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acaplaya-musings · 1 month

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Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals: Unshaken

Geoff's cover of the song Unshaken from the videogame Red Dead Redemption 2 was uploaded on the 10th of March, 2024, i.e. a month ago for you reading this. I wasn't quite sure at first if I was going to make a Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals post for this video or not, but I waited a couple-ish days (it released on a Sunday morning, and I'm currently typing this on the following Tuesday night), had a think about it (and watched it about half a dozen times, 5 of those just in its first day of release), and decided "yeah, I can talk about this!"

So let's get into this!

Ho boy, that's one hell of an opening shot (and yes I know I said the same thing about Jack's Lament), and we linger on it for like 5 seconds as well!

(Howdy there, Daryl!)

Original thumbnail/Spotify image alert! (And this was the image Geoff posted a week earlier on his Community tab as a little sneak peek, like he really gave nothing else away ahead of time)

For a red hot second (hah) when I first watched this video I thought there was gonna be a red tint to the visuals the whole time, but thankfully no

Did you notice how the screen expands at the same time as the lighting changes? Very neat!

Also interesting that the lighting on Goff, Daryl, Jeoph, and Jeff (more on them in a minute) is not just plain white or yellow; it's almost definitely green. The red lighting has not disappeared, as you can tell from the background, but it gets (mostly) cancelled out in the foreground by the green lighting, because red and green are of course complementary (opposite) colours. But also, red can be associated with danger and warnings (and it's in the title of the videogame of course), and green can sometimes be a "spooky"/"eerie" colour, particularly the bright neon kind. Things to think about!

(And of course, the credit for lighting automation goes to none other than Eli. Thanks Eli! (though I assume Geoff had a fair hand in coming up with ideas for lighting design as well).

If you're reading this, you almost definitely know that this video is technically a prequel to Geoff's video for Ghost Riders In The Sky - here, we see Goff, Daryl, Jeoph, and Jeff as living human cowboys, before they became ghost cowboys. I made a side-by-side comparison post not long after this video dropped, which you can find here

I am of course, quite pleased to see the return of the "Geoffettes", and if you've been following my Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals posts (the last of which was written at least a few weeks before this), you'll know I was keenly anticipating their next feature in a Geoff video. What I wasn't expecting, however, was to have a video that was in fact, just them! Jeff, Jeoph, Goff, and Daryl, but no Geoff! A bold move, to let them do a video all by themselves, but hey, I'm not complaining! 😁😉

Jeoph takes lead vocals for most of this one (technically a primarily-visual observation, for obvious reasons), which is interesting, as he was the only one of the four "brothers" in Ghost Riders to get a proper solo part (the "cowboy change your ways today" line). I wonder if the connection is deliberate/intentional?

(Also Jeoph's got charm, I'll give him that)

I'm assuming that is in fact the same coat that Daryl wore in Ghost Riders In The Sky, since all the other costume pieces match up, but because of the lighting, it looks like a different colour. In Ghost Riders, it seems to have a bit more of a reddish tinge to it, but with the green lighting here, it looks more like a regular brown.

Also because I didn't mention it in my Ghost Riders post, I'll mention it here instead: Thanks to the leather coat (and a bit of extra clothing layering underneath I believe), Daryl looks like he's got a bit of extra "heft" (weight/muscle) on him compared to the other three riders, as pointed out by someone in the comments section of the Ghost Riders video

Oh yeah and there's this golden light backdrop as well, which is quite nice, and I feel like there's some sort of meaning/intention behind this as well, but I haven't quite figured it out yet, rip

Also if Daryl's the largest of the group, at least by a small margin, then I'm saying that Jeff is the thinnest, at least a little bit.

Back to the harsh red lighting for the chorus!

Oh yeah and then we get more of a cool green lighting backdrop for the second chorus - sorta fitting for the lyrics about the whispering pines.

Also I just realized I haven't yet said a word about the set design, which is honestly criminal of me because it is on point. All the props are so cool, like the lanterns and the horse saddle on the far left side, and it definitely nails the Old West theme!

(This was of course filmed at Pattycake Productions Studios, so shoutout to them for their help/collaboration!)

(This shot is more representative of how Daryl's coat appears in the Ghost Riders video in reagards to colour)

Interestingly, Goff doesn't get any solo/lead parts in this one, and also I can't figure out whether he's left-handed in this video too or not. He's holding a large gun (rifle? musket? idk I'm Australian) in his right hand, but I can't see a gun holster on his right hip, so I'm assuming he has a holster on his left hip like in Ghost Riders (and I know Jeff kept his underarm holster in this video)

If I may step "out-of-universe" and talk reality for a hot second, I love the fact that even when Geoff is portraying 4 different cowboy characters, the rings stay on the whole time, for every single one, and so does The Necklace (you can only see part of the necklace chain in shots of Jeff, Jeoph, and Goff here though). Like truly, his jewelry (all of which is a symbol/representation of his love for his wife <3 ) only comes off in the most exceptional of circumstances (like having your hands and chest spray-painted to turn you into a skeleton, for example)

On a completely different Doylian note, how the frick does Geoff Castellucci's hair work? Watch this video, and look at the colour/shade of his hair. Then go watch Wicked Game, the video released just last month, and do the same. And as a bonus, go watch Sleeping In The Cold Below. Seriously, is lighting more powerful/influential than I thought, or does he use colouring products sometimes? I swear I'm gonna be talking about this in many posts to come this year, lol rip.

Jeff is my favourite in this video, though I can't help but love them all 😁

And peep the underarm gun holster I mentioned!

Handsome pretty boy <3

Also love the fact that since Jeff's shirt didn't have any buttons on it to leave undone, he left a button undone on his vest instead (Geoff and his "Clones" are nothing if not consistent 😆)

Lighting change!

"Will the hunter be hunted by the smoking gun?"

Jeoph removes his hat, which in a lot of media is often associated with acknowledgement of death, and the way he holds/looks at his gun here makes me think that Cowboy Jeoph has in fact killed somebody (in this essay I will...)

(Also Matthew "Bucky" Buckner is credited as "special consultant" for this video. Did he help out with the use of the gun props or something? (they are just props, right?))

"Amidst the crash of the-"

Love the sudden light flash to match with the sudden line pause, like a flash of lightning, and it kinda sounded like there was a subtle thunderclap there too!

You know I love a good passionate belt from Geoff (or one of the Geoffettes) in a video 😄💜

It's quite different tone-wise, but this bit reminds me of Geoff's Shenandoah video, with two of the Geoff clones seemingly conducting with each other at one point. Go rewatch that video after this, you'll see what I mean.

Also either it's just me, or for most of this, the self-conducting hand movements are kept quite minimal/subtle, only increasing moreso here at the big climax of the song/video. I'm gonna have to watch this video a few more times to confirm, but it adds to the more sombre vibe of the video imo (like obviously we know how the story ends for the four of them here, and it's not exactly a happy ending)

Go off Jeoph!

I also wish to know if there's any particular meaning/significance behind Jeff taking off his hat early on in the video and then putting it back on at the end (other than the thought that only just came to me right now, in that it's very similar to Jeff in Folsom Prison Blues, removing his glasses early on in the video, and then putting them back on at the end.)

Honestly love this final shot, it's very cool 👌

There is one thing missing though: the gramophone logo at the end! It's not there! The video just goes straight to the Patrons list! It's not even at the very very end! Did Geoff just forget? Is it some subtle symbolism connected to how "Main Geoff" isn't in this video? I guess we'll just have to wait and see whether or not it shows up at the end of the next one!

And here I was wondering whether or not I'd have a lot to say about this video or a lot of screenshots to take! Guess I had no need to worry after all! Geoff once again knocked it out the park, and yes, as I said at the start, I watched this 5 times in one day! The arrangement is very impressive, as we've come to expect from Geoff, and though I predicted this would be a Low Bass Cover the moment I realized this would be a Western-style song/video, this was still ridiculously low. Geoff pulled out all the stops for this one, and I love it!

#geoff castellucci #unshaken #unshaken rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 unshaken #voiceplay-adjacent visuals #acaplaya analysis

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mtreebeardiles · 2 years

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Bonds of Smoke and Steel

idk, I've just been having fun in Fallout 4

AO3

Sanctuary looked different.

The bones were the same, of course, foundations neatly lined in the same pattern they'd had before the bombs fell, but the structures resting atop them had changed drastically even in the three or so years since he'd been here last. The homes that had remained were no longer dilapidated shells bolstered by planks of steel and wood salvaged from the wastes; proper walling had taken their place, shabby exteriors painted over with generous paint in various colors. Wild grasses and flowers that had once called this place home had returned, adding shocks of green and white and yellow where dried, choked lawns had been. The roads were still rough, cracked asphalt and concrete, but some effort to ease the way for pack-brahmin meant they were better than they had been. Power pylons ranged at regular intervals, lines connecting buildings and water purifiers to generators tucked away but still noisy on the other side of the settlement. Even here, though, there were improvements: new structures installed along the perimeter, elegant and sleek wind turbines rising above the rooftops, harnessing additional power to support the less clean sources below.

It was easily the most transformed of the settlements he'd seen thus far since his return to the Commonwealth.

Others would no doubt be getting the same treatment down the line, but whether it was the space or the sentimentality Sanctuary offered it was almost always first in line for restructuring and innovative solutions. He wasn't sure how Maksim did it, what drove him to return here again and again to the site of tragedy -- ground zero for the day his life had changed forever. Echoes of a past long gone, reminders of a future he could never have, and maybe he didn't stay in the home that had originally been his but that hadn't stopped him from renovating it. Preserving bits and pieces even though it must've been painful… or maybe that had been the point. Maybe it was less about grief and more about healing, putting hammer to nail and brush to paint to rebuild from your own ashes something new, something different, something you might not have imagined, once, a canvas not quite blank but still holding some potential within its borders.

Maybe the man found it therapeutic.

Danse wasn't sure; his own past had been a lie, after all.

"Greetings, bud-dy."

Danse blinked, startled, turning only to come face to face with the familiar sight of a…heavily modified protectron unit.

This thing is still kicking around?

He wished he was less impressed than he was.

"Can I interest you in a cold one? Or would you like to hear a joke?"

Phrasing newer and a lot smoother than Danse remembered and he supposed he wasn't too surprised that the unit had been maintained and likely upgraded.

"This thing is amazing!"

"Just leave it -- and there he goes."

A grinning face, hazel eyes alight, and Danse found it harder to be annoyed when the newest Brotherhood Knight was clearly so enamored with the machine as it stepped free from its pod.

"…you planning on sending it to the Rexford, then?"

"Absolutely not." A gentle clap to the bot's chassis and Danse bit back a sigh. He hadn't known Taylor very long, but he was already getting better at recognizing that particular gleam in the other man's eye. "This buddy is coming home with us."

"I sincerely hope you mean Sanctuary and not the Prydwen."

"Bud-dy?"

Another blink, startled this time from his thoughts and Danse shook his head. "Uh, no thank you."

"Oh-kay."

He watched it toddle off, continuing what he strongly suspected was the exact same circuit it had kept since the day they'd brought it here. Home -- Maksim's home, but Taylor's, too, the two Vault Dwellers having crossed paths twice over the centuries. An easier alliance forged, shared history a burden best shared between the only two who could truly appreciate its weight, and of course Taylor had meant Sanctuary all those years ago.

The Prydwen was a command center, steel and heat and noise, not a home Taylor could return to for rest and recovery. The other man couldn't have found solace in it the way Danse had, and Danse shouldn't have expected him to.

What was it he always said? He wondered as he trudged along a rapidly reclaimed sidewalk, pushing deeper into Sanctuary. Don't sleep where you work?

Something like that.

#my writing #late to this fandom too huh #Paladin Danse #Paladin Danse x male sole survivor #MacCready #MacCready x male sole survivor #two vault 111 survivors #canon divergence

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gumnut-logic · 2 years

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It is getting ridiculous when I have written enough fic that a situation comes up and I immediately think ‘ooh, I wrote something like that’.

It should also be noted that it took me far too long to remember the name of this episode, my brain is working so slow. It’s only the FIRST episode ::headdesk::

Anyway, Nuttyfic reblog cos as predicted I don’t have enough brain left to write any more of my current fic tonight.

Mild whump, cranky Virgil, idiot Scott...yeah, he’ll drag him out alright.

-o-o-o-

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”

He’d done it and he’d done it proper.

“I told you it wasn’t safe. I told you not to go in. But no, you know better.”

Oh, yes, he had done it proper. He hadn’t heard Virgil go off the deep end like this since high school and the time Gordon had decided to not be where he was supposed to be at school pick up and the three hours of terror that followed.

Admittedly, Scott had been just as angry at the time. It was a whole new perspective to be on the receiving end.

“Virg-“

“No, Scott. I’ve had it. You obviously don’t trust my judgment. You think you know better. Well, newsflash, hot shot, you don’t!”

Oh, yes, this was going to go on for some time.

So, he kept his mouth shut. It would be worse if Virgil realised that not only had his jet pack run out of fuel, but it had dropped him from quite a height. Without warning…he must speak to Brains about that. Fortunately, he had rolled down a slope and into an underground lake.

Unfortunately, the slope had been jagged and torn up his uniform somewhat. There was likely some bruising.

And the lake had been damned cold.

Virgil had been livid by the time he had arrived in Two. Yes, he had told Scott not to go in. Yes, it had been a gamble. But if it had worked, Scott would have been able to locate the cavers much faster than Gordon who was still looking with a second pod while Virgil hunted down their wayward commander.

Of course, Virgil had found him as fast as possible, but the engineer had had the remainder of Two’s flight time and the pod hike down into the massive cave network to stew on the stupidity of his brother.

Scott was forced to agree that he might have a point. But he was not going to apologise. Command decisions were command decisions whether they succeeded or failed. He owed no-one an explanation.

Regardless, he was sat in the back of the pod so far, he may as well be sentenced to the trunk, while Virgil blew steam.

On any other occasion he would have given as good as he got, but to be honest, he wasn’t feeling so great.

The pod itself was clambering up an almost vertical cliff - proof that flying in was far more practical than climbing - and Virgil’s concentration between expletives needed to be focussed. Scott would mention it on the next flat bit.

But then they would be getting out of here soon anyway. Might as well wait until they reached the surface.

He let his head drop back against the seat.

“Scott?” The pod was dangling from an overhang and had stopped moving. Its spots lit up rock inhabited by dangling…things.

He blinked as something flew through the beams.

“Scott? You with me?”

“Huh?”

There was silence a moment, Virgil’s head attempting to turn around and look at him, but failing with an exasperated grunt. “Scott, speak to me.”

“Wh’t do you want me to say?”

His brother grunted and the pod began moving again. This time though, it changed direction and shook harder as if his brother was in a hurry to get somewhere.

Next thing he knew the pod had stopped, the hatch was open, a yellow light was flickering everywhere and a pair of worried brown eyes were glaring at him.

The light vanished, leaving his brother’s helmet lamps to pale him to a ghost creature dressed in deep blue.

“You said you were okay.” It was soft and hurting. The ghost hovering over him just looked sad.

“’M okay.”

“You’re bleeding and suffering from hypothermia. How can you possibly be okay?” It was said quietly, but it cut through him like a knife because with it came disappointment. Virgil turned away and reached for the storage locker below his seat. “I guess I should know better.”

“Virg…” But his brother refused to look at him, even when he folded up the front seat and climbed back in to hunt down exactly where Scott was leaking blood from. Turned out he had cut the back of his leg. Not badly, but bad enough.

The water in his boot was so cold, he hadn’t felt it.

Sure and caring hands removed Scott’s footwear, his helmet, and his baldric was unfastened and tugged off. Virgil, it was Virgil, ever dependable Virgil, was unzipping his uniform, gently pulling him forward and peeling his under shirt off his skin.

He should be helping, but he couldn’t quite pull the energy together.

An emergency blanket appeared and Scott found himself quickly swaddled. A hiss and he was suddenly smelling something warm and chocolatey.

“Scott?”

He discovered his eyes were closed and he forced them open. Virgil was crouched in front of him, holding up a plastic cup of something emanating warmth. He had no hands to take it, but his brother offered it up to him like a baby.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the big brother part of him was outraged and horrified, but he was too busy sipping warmth to care.

A cap was gently tugged onto his head, completely messing up his hair.

Warm fingers brushed the strands out of his eyes.

Virgil was staring at him, so much emotion in that one expression. Exasperation, frustration and worry, but most of all love.

Something inside Scott just melted.

“I’m sorry.” It came out in a rush through a throat that had suddenly grown tight.

Those brown eyes widened and Virgil leant back just a little. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared for a moment before lowering the safety harness over Scott’s shoulders.

“I need to get you back to Two as fast as possible. Gordon has located the two cavers and is making his way to the main cavern. They report no injuries and once orientated will be climbing out themselves.” His brother unfolded his seat and clicked into position before jumping into it. “You’re the only injury.” The canopy hissed shut and the pod started up, its claws immediately grabbing at rock.

Scott swallowed.

He lost some time after that. The next thing he knew he was in daylight and the pod was stomping over level ground only to be engulfed by the green shadow of Two.

The pod came to a halt and the canopy was thrown open. “Hey, Bro, how you feeling?”

He found enough energy to frown. “I’m fine, Gordon.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that too often if I were you.” He lowered his voice and leant in as if conspiring. “Virgil is pissed.”

“Move, Fish.” Gordon disappeared to be replaced by Virgil. His lips were tight as his eyes examined Scott. “You’re going to ride back in the infirmary and you are not going to complain. After that, you have two days off rescues and if you say anything in protest, I’m reinforcing that medical order via Grandma and her latest interest in exotic soup. You will do what you are told and after a health review we will have a discussion regarding operative safety.”

“Virgil, I’m sorry.”

His brother froze.

“I mean it. You were right and I screwed up.”

Another moment of staring. “I need to get you to the infirmary.”

Scott untangled himself from the blanket and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Virgil, I mean it.”

The engineer looked down at Scott’s bare arm and the hair suddenly standing on end the length of it. A gentle hand reached up and moved his arm back under the blanket. “We’ll get you well, first, then we will discuss this.” His brother’s gazed dipped and for a split second a deep sorrow flickered across his expression.

But only briefly. A blink and Virgil was reaching into the pod and lifting the restraints. “C’mon, let’s warm you up and fix the holes you’ve got in you.”

Scott pushed himself to his feet somewhat wobbly. “Holes? I thought I only had the one injury?”

Clambering over the side of the pod, Virgil caught him and eased him to the ground. “That would be too easy. You, my dear brother, are hard work.” He pulled a hoverstretcher close. “Now make it a touch easier by lying down without arguing.”

“I’m fine, I can walk.”

The growl that echoed off the module bulkheads was positively savage.

Okay, perhaps he should let Virgil have this one. He backed up and sat down on the stretcher.

He was forcibly nudged to lie down and his feet lifted up onto the cushioned surface by a smirking Gordon.

As the stretcher was pulled into motion, his medic brother muttered under his breath.

“So much damned hard work.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #nutty no brain

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sustraiii · 2 years

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TEAM KWTZ CHAPTER 8: I HEARD A RUMOR (PART 2)

KWTZ chases a lead but it isn’t all smooth sailing.

WYN

The ruins of Pyre Academy were not a place that Wyn desired to spend a lot of time around. After departing the Golden Fleece, the group - consisting of KWTZ and Colin - had headed back to the Peredur home to get changed and grab their weapons, before heading out to the long-abandoned academy.

What remained of the academy was located just a short distance northeast of the town. They had to leave the walls of Silbern behind, but as they walked it became apparent to Wyn that the walls had once extended further outwards, encapsulating the academy within them.

They walked along an old, stone path. Time and nature had slowly reclaimed the path, concealing cracked grey tiles under layers of dirt and moss. It was only a short walk to Pyre Academy, and even in the daylight, with most of the ruins visible, the school had an eerie aura surrounding it. Wyn could not say what it was exactly that set him so on edge, but it certainly did not lack for haunting features. The vast majority of the school was no longer standing, only rubble and broken timber standing in its place. A few walls were still standing, though they were falling apart in places, or overwhelmed by creeping vines and other such weeds.

On some of the stone walls, Wyn could make out dark scorch marks, from a fire or an explosion. As the group had made their way here, Colin had informed them that the school was where the tragedy that had befallen the town had begun just over a decade ago. This was where the Glatisant first appeared, killing six people before making its way to the town proper, drawn there by the panicked, fleeing students.

As they began inspecting the rubble, this place's history lingered in the back of Wyn's mind. Six people had died here, five of which were students; the similarities to the Fall of Beacon were not lost on Wyn.

“Any idea what we should be looking for exactly?” Wyn asked, stepping away from a section of the building he was looking over. There was rubble beneath his feet and Wyn almost lost his footing as he moved away.

Ahead of him was Colin and the rest of KWTZ scattered around, none of which seemed to have had any luck finding anything either.

“Without knowing what Cheren and Datura were guarding it’s hard to say,” Kieran answered in place of his uncle. A deep frown settled on his features. “Still, I can’t imagine what sort of job they’d take here. There isn’t anything here.”

“Just ghosts and bad memories,” Colin said with a sigh, before standing up from where he had been overlooking a section of rubble. “I don’t know if they’re still standing but there used to be a couple of old storage sheds round the back that could be worth a look. I don't imagine there’d be much there though, they only ever used it to store any junk from the last school year and a few spare tables and chairs.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to have a look whilst we’re here at least,” Lin mused.

Since Colin knew the way, he summoned the group to him and proceeded to lead them in the direction of the sheds he had referred to before. As they walked around the side, Wyn could see more of the extensive damage to the building. He could only imagine how bad this place must have been when the Grimm had attacked.

It didn't take the group too long to find the sheds. One had been taken out some time ago by a fallen tree so they were able to rule that out as a location to look through. The second one, however, was still standing whole. It was a little weather-worn and had vines climbing the walls, but was otherwise fine.

They paced around the outside cautiously first, finding nothing out of the ordinary. There was one window on the outside of the shed but it was so yellowed and cracked that they could not look inside so it was anyone's guess what awaited them within. Colin was about to break the lock that was on the door but hesitated briefly. Wyn could see him holding it in his hand, peering down at it curiously.

"This lock is brand new," He said, gesturing for the group to look at it.

Colin was correct - it was indeed new, or at the very least newer. The lock was made from a shiny metal with only the faintest touch of rust forming on the lettering.

"Do you think Cheren and Datura left this here?" Lin asked.

Colin shrugged his shoulders. He looked as though he meant to say something else when a rumble of laughter echoed from behind them. Wyn was quick to whip around on the spot, the others quickly following suit. At first, no one emerged, and then, through the undergrowth, two figures stepped forth. First came a tall, grey-haired man, wearing an old red duster coat. He walked with a large warhammer, which he currently used as a makeshift walking stick. Wyn recognised him from the Golden Fleece. He was Cheren Rutland.

Next to him was Datura Oleander, a slender man, with white-pink hair worn in a messy updo and bright magenta eyes. He seemed to be wearing a formal vest and shirt and he wore an unusual amount of rings and other silver jewellery. He didn't strike Wyn as much of a huntsman in truth, and if not for the sabre he had attached to his belt - which he made a show of bringing their attention to - Wyn wouldn't have taken him for much of a fighter either.

"I don't think that concerns you, my dear," Datura said, looking at Lin as he spoke. Clearly, he was responding to her earlier question.

Colin took a step forward, standing between the group and the two men. "So you are involved in something then?"

"Maybe we are, maybe we aren't," Datura said, raising his hands in a mock shrug. "You're not supposed to be here, you know."

"Neither are you," Colin said sharply.

Datura sighed. "You just never know when to keep your nose out of things do you?" He said as he unsheathed his weapon. The man held it close to himself for a moment, before pointing it towards Colin. A wicked grin formed on his lips as he said, "I think I'll enjoy putting an end to the 'Wraith of Silbern'."

Colin sneered and pulled out his hatchet, twirling it in his fingers as he took up a fighting stance. "I'd like to see you try you pompous jackass."

The two men surged forward.

With a sigh, Cheren readied his own weapon and moved to engage KWTZ. Whilst Datura was actively engaging in fighting Colin, Cheren seemed less motivated to do so, even when Wyn and Tilia tried to attack him. He was slow to move and react but he wasn’t completely incapable of fighting. Both Kieran and Wyn were unfortunate to get struck with a heavy blow from his hammer as the man fended them off.

Lin made an attempt to attack him, shooting an arrow in his direction but he neatly deflected it with the shaft of his hammer.

Cheren closed the gap between himself and Lin and moved to bring down his warhammer in a downwards strike in front of her. Thankfully, Tilia was there to absorb the attack, sneaking around the side of Lin and quickly angling her shield to absorb the hit. It still must have hit hard, Wyn noted, as Tilia slid backwards from the recoil. Even Cheren stepped back following the hit, finding himself in the line of Kieran.

The older man's head turned in time to see Kieran moving towards him but was not quick enough to stop him from hooking a foot around his ankle, sending him tumbling to the floor. Cheren's weapon fell out of his hand as he hit the ground, which he quickly reached out for. Luckily, he was prevented from doing anything with it as Lin intercepted him with her bow drawn.

"Yield," She urged.

The man held her gaze for a long moment, before bowing his head and offering out his weapon in submission. Kieran took it from him and tossed it aside.

With Cheren dealt with, KWTZ could turn their attention to Datura, who was still fighting with Colin. Wyn was surprised to see that Datura was a fairly decent fighter. Based on how Colin and the others had spoken of him, Wyn hadn't expected him to be very proficient, so was surprised to see him holding his own against Colin. He didn't seem to be landing many attacks on Colin but was doing a good job at parrying his attacks and keeping him from hitting him too hard.

Although Colin seemed to have it handled, this didn't stop Kieran from trying to intervene between the two. His looming presence forced the two men apart for a brief moment, both of them looking annoyed at the interruption of their fight.

"Stay out of this!" Datura hissed.

Wyn watched as the man's eyes began to glow before a similar magenta glow emanated from his free hand. With a sudden motion, he pulled back his hand, before slamming an open palm into Kieran's chest.

Kieran took a step backwards following this, more out of surprise than anything. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment, and Kieran tilted his head to one side, before suddenly seizing up, making a gasping breath before he stumbled backwards.

It was a good job Wyn was standing near his teammate as Kieran would have fallen straight back onto the ground otherwise. Thankfully, Wyn was able to catch him before he did so. As Wyn held him in his arms he watched as Kieran's dark aura flared up, magenta trails from Datura's attack appearing to be the cause of the flare up, looking as though it was attacking Kieran's very aura itself. This lasted for around two minutes, after which the flow disappeared and Kieran's aura stopped surging. Kieran also felt less tense now, though appeared slightly disoriented from whatever attack Datura had hit him with.

In the minutes it had taken Kieran to recover, Colin and Datura had picked up their fight again. The first few attacks that Wyn caught from Colin seemed notably more aggressive than before, like he was actually trying to hurt Datura rather than just drive him back. It seemed Wyn was not the only one who picked up on the increased aggression, as Datura had a smirk as he parried a quick succession of attacks.

"Colin, Colin, Colin, you needn't have worried about your nephew," Datura cooed in a falsely sweet voice. "You know my semblance doesn't really do any damage. It's only meant to incapacitate!"

As he finished saying that, Datura ducked, before rising with a twirl. He attempted to make a quick jab with his sword, driving Colin backwards rather than outright hitting him, before readying his semblance again. His palm shot outwards ready to strike but Colin was ready. He sidestepped out of the way, Datura's palm only catching the edge of Colin's cloak, before Colin twisted on the spot and swung down his hatchet on Datura's wrist.

Both men had upped the aggression of their attacks now. They swung, jabbed, and slashed at each other; neither appearing to care about how much damage they took or received. Seeing them like this, Wyn thought they were both equally matched, though Colin's attacks were definitely more precise than Datura's who seemed to prefer lashing out wildly and hoping for the best.

Datura tried an overhead strike, looking as though he was aiming to cleave into Colin's shoulder. Colin ducked down and rolled out the way, swinging out the arm with his shield attached to it in an effort to sweep the other man's legs whilst he was distracted. Datura narrowly avoided the sweeping motion, and backed off momentarily, allowing Colin to get back to his feet.

With a grunt of annoyance, Datura rushed forward, trying to catch Colin off guard as he stood up. He managed to get four quick hits off, before Colin countered him properly, and forced him back with a shot from his hatchet.

The two men stayed away from each other for a moment, sizing each other up before preparing to go again. Both raced forward at the same time, Colin swinging his hatchet toward Datura from the left, and Datura swinging his sabre towards Colin from the right. Both men managed to get their attacks off at the same time, proceeding to fall back once they had done so, their auras flickering and breaking as they did so.

"This is where the fun starts!" Datura called out.

He didn't hesitate to engage Colin in combat again, not appearing to care that he had no aura. He hacked and slashed at Colin, growing increasingly annoyed when Colin dodged or parried his attacks. His annoyance only grew when Colin slashed at him and opened up the sleeve of his shirt.

One angry slice from Datura did finally catch Colin out, however. The man was not quick enough to fully get out of the way in time as Datura swung near his head. The blade of Datura's weapon nicked Colin's ear, and Colin stumbled back, his free hand clamped over the ear in an effort to stem the blood. Colin moved his hand away briefly, looking down at the blood staining his hand, before looking up at Datura. With a sudden burst of speed, he lunged forward, making it appear as though he was aiming with his hatchet. However, at the last minute, Colin shifted his stance and let his shield fly.

Wyn watched as the shield missed Datura completely and soared off into the trees. It was an odd move to be sure and made even more odd by the fact Colin simply stood on the spot afterwards.

Datura chuckled. He moved towards Colin carefully. He went to slash his weapon across the other huntsman again but was blocked from landing a strike on him by Colin pulling up his hatchet, and blocking the attack. It was a bit of an awkward manoeuvre, with Colin forced to hold his weapon with both hands at an awkward upwards angle to effectively stop Datura.

"You missed," Datura teased.

It was Colin's turn to smirk now. "Did I?"

The man switched to holding his hatchet with one hand and raised his now free arm into the air. The bracer on his wrist glowed purple and the sound of a snapping branch echoed nearby. Datura turned his head from side to side looking for the sound, just in time for the shield to come flying back through the trees, hit him in the back of the head, and send him flying to the ground.

The hit didn't knock Datura out for long, but it allowed Colin to disarm him properly and then restrain him and Cheren on the floor. By the time Colin broke the lock on the shed, Datura had come back around and was yelling expletives to no one in particular about the current position he found himself in.

Colin, Kieran, Lin, and Wyn stepped into the shed, leaving Tilia to watch over their two assailants.

Due to Cheren and Datura's presence here, Wyn had been expecting there to at least be something contained in the shed but there was nothing. There was just dust and a few old leaves. Overall it looked just as old and abandoned as the rest of the academy.

"There's nothing here," Wyn said with a dejected tone. It wasn't even as though they could say that something had been here, as the layer of dust on the floor was so thick it surely would have shown up if something had been here recently.

"No..." Kieran murmured quietly. He crouched down and swept some of the dust away with his hand before pressing his palm against the floor. "There is something here...I can hear a faint humming sound, like an electrical hum. It's not very strong but it's there. It's beneath us, I think."

"There shouldn't be anything beneath us," Colin said. "At least not this side of the building."

"Could it be a secret room?" Lin suggested.

"Hmm, maybe," Colin considered. He looked out the door towards where Cheren and Datura were sitting. "Let's find out."

Walking back outside, Colin lowered himself next to Datura to talk.

"We know there's something underground," Colin told him. "I would advise you to be smart and tell us how to get to it."

Datura glared at Colin for a second, and then looked towards where Kieran, Lin, and Wyn were standing in the doorway of the shed. "Why don't you get your little hound dog to sniff it out for you?"

Wyn felt himself tense up instinctively hearing those words, knowing full well it had been directed towards Kieran. Even Lin, usually the calmest of their team, had tensed and had a grimace on her face.

Wyn couldn't see Colin's expression fully from here but he could only imagine what it must have looked like.

Suddenly, Colin raised his fist and punched Datura square in the face. A wet crack followed this punch and Datura slumped forward, knocked unconscious from the punch. Colin was untroubled by this, rose to his feet again, and shook out his fist before moving to speak with Cheren.

Fortunately, Cheren was much smarter than his companion.

With Colin's help, Cheren got to his feet and stepped inside the shed. His hands were currently bound, but he gestured underneath the windowsill, where there was a small gap between the wooden panelling and the window. "There's a button under there. Press it and you'll get your answers." Was his only instruction, before he stepped to the edge of the room.

Colin just about managed to fit his hand underneath, pressing the button that Cheren had mentioned. There was a small click before a whirring sound kicked in. The floor started to shift beneath Wyn's feet, and he quickly stepped aside as two large panels slid open, revealing a staircase that led down to a room below.

Wyn and his teammates peered in, but they could see nothing, only a dim flickering light deep down.

"What's down there, Cheren?" Colin asked.

"I don't know," Cheren admitted. He could well have been lying but something about his tone and posture told Wyn he was telling the truth. "We were only ever shown how to open it, not what was down there."

Colin gave a grateful nod. "Thanks, Cheren." The huntsman then called out to Tilia who was still standing next to Datura. "Are you okay with keeping an eye on the two of them?" He asked.

"Sure," Tilia responded, giving a thumbs up. "You go do what you need to do."

Colin seemed reluctant to go down the stairs at first, but after a moment he led the four of them downstairs. There was very little light in the room that awaited them. There were three ceiling lights that should have illuminated the room, but only two were working, and one of those was flickering distractingly.

The room was larger than Wyn anticipated and had a nasty odour which lingered in the air. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was exactly but it had a peculiar mix of a damp smell and rotting fruit. To the left of the bottom of the stairs were three large tubes that went from the floor to the ceiling. Two were empty and the other had been smashed in the middle, leaving a large gaping hole in it. Wyn didn't dare think of what was once contained in those tubes, but by how strong the smell was near them, he could think of some not so nice possibilities.

The right of the room had been set up like more of a laboratory - or at least had been once. The equipment looked as though it had been thrown around and broken down, making it hard to determine what some of the larger pieces were. There was a desk on this side of the room with a computer and typewriter on top, the computer which appeared to have suffered a similar fate to other equipment in the room, though the destruction of the computer seemed much more extensive. It was riddled with bullets and deep gashes, almost as though somebody had taken a sword or similar blade to it.

The most telling of the destruction in the room was a pile of burnt books, papers, and folders in front of a bookshelf. Though some of the books were still a little intact, they were so badly burnt the pages were likely to fall apart if somebody attempted to turn them.

As the rest of the group sifted through the burnt remains, Wyn made a note of the undamaged books that remained on the bookshelf. None of them seemed particularly interesting though. They were all historical or geographical, and none of them seemed to have any relevance to this room or Silbern save for one book which was about the local area.

The others seemed to have a bit more luck in their search, with Lin finding a moleskin folder which didn't appear to have as much damage as the other items in the pile. There were a few pages within, but by what little Wyn managed to glimpse before Colin took it away to read, it seemed as though someone had begun to remove pages out before hastily throwing down the whole folder, hoping the flames would take it. More interesting than that was that the pages appeared to have been written on the typewriter rather than handwritten.

“Oh no…”

The shocked voice of Colin forced the group to turn around and look at him. He was stood off to one side, holding some of the papers in one hand, and his free hand partially covering his mouth.

“What is it?” Kieran asked, taking a step toward his uncle.

“The Glatisant…the attack on Silbern.” Colin gripped the paper tighter. His expression had become dark in the minutes he had been reading.

Kieran motioned towards the paper. “Can I read it?”

Colin did not respond for a moment, continuing to stare angrily into the distance, before turning and acknowledging his request. He moved to hand Kieran the paper and then pulled it back, almost like was second-guessing his decision. “I’m not sure you’ll like what’s written on here, Kieran.”

“I can handle it,” Kieran assured him.

Although Colin did not seem entirely convinced, he handed the paper to his nephew. As Kieran began to read it, Lin and Wyn also came over, reading over what was written on the paper. It didn’t take long for Wyn to see what had caused Colin’s initial reaction and his hesitancy to pass the letter to Kieran.

It was clearly the last of several pages, as the initial words on the paper were midway through a sentence. In it, the writer described their annoyance at being told to destroy their “work” by a man known as “Uncle Sylvester” following the attack on Silbern. The writer conceded that they would have to destroy some of their work to avoid detection and to appease Sylvester but would keep some small samples and notes to see if they could one day repeat what had happened with the Glatisant.

“Sylvester…that wouldn’t happen to be Sylvester Chartreuse would it?” Kieran asked.

Colin nodded. “Most likely, yes.”

“Which means that the writer of this was likely Victor then, no?” Kieran asked, once again looking to his uncle for confirmation. “And the wording. How he describes the attack and the Glatisant…it’s almost like…”

Kieran seemed unable to get the words out himself so Colin concluded for him. “The Glatisant and the attack on Silbern was no accident.”

#team KWTZ #team kwtz fic #kieran peredur #wyn blanchard #tilia bosco #lin zhu #colin peredur #datura oleander #cheren rutland

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elvaria-project · 1 year

Text

Part 1, The High Realms(Tilemgie- Boriasonde) Drafts

The proper Boriasonde(Tilemgie) post is here: https://at.tumblr.com/elvaria-project/universal-lore-part-1-the-high-realmstilemgie/yo1donzt3f70

If I were to assign one word to each of the stories of the High Realms, Altersae's would be fear, Spaelcul's would be frustration, Voiskana's would be vengeance, and Tilemgie's would be hope.

I wanted to convey that the Tilemgians are the ones that will be able to let go and forge a future for themselves, and thus the story ends on a hopeful note, but I'm not sure if I managed that correctly, so here's the versions that didn't make the cut. I'm not going to bother adding the writing taglist to this post since it's very trivial.

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Version 1(Incomplete)

Note: This one got chopped because it would've been too long and also too dramatic. I also felt that the first part was very irrelevant so I just scrapped the whole thing.

Howling sandstorms tore across the dunes of Desaebla, leaving behind swirling grains of sand that remained afloat in the skies.

The skies would remain a burnt yellow in hue as the storms persisted for many days, but not all of the desert was battered by these storms, for far away from the Asurei-shielded Dalirnan cities was a canyon surrounded by strange magic.

To the eyes of outsiders, there was no canyon, and they felt no pull to travel across or near it. To them, it was simply another dune among the many that covered Desaebla. To those more observant, they saw the air ripple ever so slightly when sand grains passed through it, but they assumed it was only a hallucination from the scorching heat and felt a compulsion to leave it be.

But the canyon was no strange phenomena akin to the air-lands that dotted the skies or the perpetually ablaze lands of Emorscal, it was unnatural, carved by the hands and power of many that came from a realm afar.

The strange beings known as Tilemgians were once a grand race that held power over the concept of Time, for their creator Tilisnet was the embodiment of Time and the one that granted each Cycle a beginning and end and the ability to progress.

Without Time, there would have been no start of life or creation to be born upon the Space of Seclir, and there would not have been a definitive beginning of this existence for Avaas to cultivate.

This Cycle, though, was always bound to meet a short end from the circumstances Avaas had seeded. Tilisnet knew of the beginning and end of each existence, but it was not his duty to speak of these, only to ensure that Time would still flow to its natural end. His people would also know of this, and they understood that it was not their place to change fate, as no one could, and that they were not preservers of individual worlds or civilizations, as that was the duty of Avaas and his people. They had foreseen the end of their realm of Boriasonde and the disappearance of Tilisnet, but they were never able to prepare for it or warn the other High Realms of it, as this existence had an ordained fate from the start of this Cycle, and this fate dictated that their race would fall from grace.

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Version 2(Complete-ish)

Note: his was supposed to be a comic but then I realized that I cannot draw in a comic format for my life. I'll stick to single shots thank you very much. The character in yellow is not the same character as the one in the proper Tilemgie post. This would've been titled Clockwork Bird. Also please disregard any issues with the text colouring, I cannot fix it at all. Tumblr is just making it worse each time I try.

"I still hear the whispers carried by time, you know. Not ones that carry orders from Tilisnet, of course, but whispers from people."

"That's not very encouraging considering our current circumstances. Are you certain that you're not hallucinating?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not hallucinating. "But it turns out there's still things to learn. "There's a word mortals have that we don't- miracles. When good things happen without reason or explanation."

"We're long past believing in that sort of thing. Our realm is gone and our powers are diminishing. Many of us are scattered across all points of existence and some of us are unfortunate enough to become sick from the memories we hold."

"But we're still alive, aren't we? Though we don't have much power compared to our past selves, we still have power and we can still survive on these mortal planets. These are miracles, if not to you then at least to me."

"At this point I don't consider our survival as a miracle, more like a tribulation. At any moment we could disappear, and at any moment time could cease to exist and this existence's past, future, and present could collide and end this Cycle."

"But that hasn't happened yet. Time still flows, even if the sands do not flow entirely in the right direction. But living on the mortal plane for the past few hundred thousand years has taught me to focus more on the little things rather than the grim bigger picture. "We're no longer bound solely to our duty- we can afford to care more about ourselves as individuals, if not be a little selfish."

"Selfishness brings irrationality. You are becoming irrational, sister. This is not good for us, and we cannot forget our duties that we were created for, as without us there is no time."

"I never said to forget our duties entirely, just that we have more "freedom"- another idea I learned from eavesdropping on mortals. "Boriasonde being destroyed and TIlisnet disappearing at first seemed like tragedy when I looked into our future eons ago. But to be honest, I've forgotten a lot of what came after. I've chosen to let go of many memories in order to live like this."

"But I have chosen to remember."

"And you've become sick as a result. "Fate is a strange thing, and I know there's no one that embodies it since it's the natural progression of entropy, but I don't see this fate as our end. "I think of it as our signal to change. It's going to hurt, but maybe change will redefine our place in this existence."

"And you think the memory overload is a "miracle"? The permanent death of many billions of us, the impending doom of our kind, and the loss of Tilisnet? "This was not a good change, and you saw how change led to our current predicament- in fact the whole of existence's predicament! The Abyss was never meant to exist, Avaas' desire for change doomed us all. The change you suggest, there is no guarantee that it will not end us."

"Tell me, when I release this clockwork bird, does it matter if it remembers me after I die?"

"Our situation is not comparable to a clockwork bird."

"Just humour me."

"...No, but birds are not bound by-"

"-When I set it free and let it pass through the barrier, this being of clockwork will become a real bird that breathes and bleeds. It has no duty other than to survive, and whether or not it does shouldn't be determined by me. When I am left in the past, the bird will have a choice to remember or forget and to stay or go. "If it stays, it will die without knowing the world outside and never realize what it could've been. If it goes, it will learn of the many wonders of life outside this canyon and be able to live a life of it's own choice. "Our fall from grace was a tragedy, yes, but we are the clockwork bird with the choices in front of us."

"...If we change, who will be left to maintain time when we become a new race?"

"As long as we still exist, Time will endure. We will never bleed red like the elves on this planet, but we'll always be connected to the Sands of Time, and so will the race that comes after us. "The bird is still a clockwork being in its heart, and the essence of clockwork will be carried by its children if it chooses to have any. "We should fly freely in order for Time to live on, we can't be afraid of mortality forever. Even if flying defies parts of our duties, we will still carry on the essence of them. "No one has to be sick anymore from the memories. Actually, we don't even need all of our memories for our duties- we just need to know how to fix and maintain Time, not all the details of said Time."

"And what if the day comes where our memories will prove crucial to whether or not this existence will outlast the Abyss?"

"Write them down and give them to the Altersaeans and Spaelculans. We can warn them now without the duty stopping us. "This is the miracle all of us have been looking for since our creation. Even if some of us never wanted to fly, we've all wanted to be able to warn others in the hope that maybe, just maybe we could change fate. We don't all have to die. This existence doesn't have to end this way."

"...Then for once I will believe in your irrationality and "miracles"...but are you certain that the sickness will end if we forget the future and past?"

"I'm not going to say certain, because I gave up foresight for my life. "But just take the chance so we can live for the first time since our creation- and that clockwork bird will be our guide."

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Okay so one last notes section. I chose to not(and also kinda forgot to) mention the whole "there's pretty much no one managing time right now except like a very small population of Tilemgians" thing. Time may or may not get messy when I work on the present and future of Elvaria itself.

Also felt the need to slightly elaborate on line "We now can evolve as the drakes on the elven planet and the crystalline structures on the pseudo-planet have done." in the proper post, mainly the crystalline part because the drake stuff is in the Dust Era post.

So I'm probably never going to talk about the pseudo-planet since that draws away from the focus on Elvaria(which the realms posts are already doing so I need to do less of that), but basically Elvaria's solar system has six planets, and of those six two of them have life, being Elvaria itself and the pseudo-planet. They'll pretty much never interact so it's very irrelevant, but the life on that planet is crystalline time-crystals and the planet itself is in a phase state because of it's composition also being mostly time crystals. Tilemgians on there are doing pretty good in comparison to the ones on Elvaria since the pseudo-planet is closer to sands of time than any other.

#worldbuilding #infodump #lore

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donaweasley · 3 years

Text

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

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It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

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“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

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

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.1K

a/n: ok, so, Kid is ready to give Yoon that good good just after hearing like half the mixtape, our girl hasn’t even seen the damn mv yet guys, like, she’s ready to pounce after just seven songs from her man. And honestly, mood. I hope you lovelies enjoy this, I hope it lives up to your expectations lmao, and thank you for reading :))

YOU paced back and forth from one end of your kitchen to the other as you waited for Yoongi to answer his damn phone. I mean, seriously, how long does it take to pick up the-

“Hello?” Yoongi’s low voice interrupted your thoughts through the phone’s speaker.

Gasping, you eagerly asked, “Can I start listening?” omitting a proper greeting.

“Oh hey, I’m fine, how are you?” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware he couldn’t see you. “You’re expecting a lot of self-control from me right now, Min,” you complained.

Yoongi allowed himself to chuckle before responding with a humored, “if you want, you can listen, Kid.”

You squealed in excitement, bouncing around in front of the oven. “You’re sure? I don’t have to wait for you or anything?”

“Nah, I’m almost there anyway,” he told you, and you could tell by the tone of his voice he was grinning. “Just no music video yet,” he said in a whiny tone which you knew must be accompanied with a pout. He enjoyed watching your reaction to his music videos.

“No music video, I promise,” you smiled, absolutely fond of the man. “Oh my god, I’m not ready for this am I?” You yelled out, Yoongi scoffing in response.

“Jesus, you’re ridiculous,” he groaned.

“Shush, I’m hanging up, I have a long-awaited mixtape to listen to, thank you very much.”

“Ok fine, fine,” he laughed, but before you could hang up, Yoongi added, “Hey, Kid?” You hummed in response. “Love you.”

You’ve heard the words a million times, but it never failed to make your heart pound. However, that didn’t stop you from teasing him a bit. “Yeah, yeah, love you, I gotta go, priorities, baby. I don’t know if you’ve heard but the Agust D just made a comeback.”

He chuckled into the phone once more before giving you a, “See you in a bit,” and then hung up.

Immediately, you were pressing play on the mixtape on Spotify, already having had it pulled up for five minutes.

The first song, ‘Moonlight’, started off soft before scratching records came in, and then your boyfriend’s voice. When he gave his iconic laugh with an “August D” you smiled in pride. That’s my honey boy.

You turned your attention to the meal you were preparing for you and Yoongi, one of his favorites, stirring the contents in a big pot on the stovetop. Bopping along to the music, you listened to the lyrics that talked about his story, starting in Daegu to flying high with his group, how he goes through feelings of confidence in his work to feeling untalented, the struggles of writing this exact mixtape due to the pressure from a larger audience, expectations, and self-doubt. You knew those struggles all too well. You were with him throughout it all.

You’d been given glimpses of the songs throughout the writing process, some tracks in full while others you only saw lyric scribblings on those yellow notepads he leaves around his studio and that littered your apartment. You first saw the chorus to ‘Moonlight’ written on one of those notepads that sat on your bedside table.

“I like this,” you told your boyfriend, holding the notepad in one hand as the other found its way in his dampened hair, his face resting against your bare chest.

“Huh?” He looked up at you, his hand gripping your waist as his eyelids fluttered. The sheets were in disarray around your still nude forms. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, is it for D-2?”

“Maybe,” he told you with a yawn. “Not sure.”

“I think you should use it,” you told him, your finger outlining the shell of his ear as his lips curved into a lazy smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“You really think so?” He asked, uncertain and a bit more awake.

“Yeah, definitely.”

He kissed the center of your chest before nuzzling his face further against your breasts. “You always know best, Kid.”

You felt your eyes prick with tears as you listened to the song, feeling immensely proud of your boyfriend. Of how hard he worked, of overcoming the doubt and fear, and just simply for the talent, passion, and artistry he shared with so many people.

As the mixtape played, you went through phases of dancing around, squealing in excitement, gasping at lyrics and phrasing, and more bouncing and dancing. You tried your best to focus on the lyrics, though you knew it would take a few listens to catch them all as you were too excited to comprehend everything just then.

Completely invested in the music, you didn’t hear your front door open, unaware of your boyfriend’s presence until he appeared in your peripheral, catching you doing a little strut that resembled Yoongi’s swagger walk he did on stage. Your head snapping to him, you were met with his gummy grin, his shoulders shaking in laughter as ‘Burn It’ continued to play throughout the kitchen.

“Are you leaving me for Agust D yet?” He teased, walking toward you.

“Do you realize how sexy you are? Like do you have any idea?” You asked accusatorily. “Like what the fuck, dude?”

“Jesus,” he huffed, a smile still plastered on his face. “You’re actually ridiculous.”

“Yeah, and you’re ridiculously talented, Min. You’re not told that enough,” you told him seriously. Reaching you, he placed his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, stepping further into his arms.

“I’m told that plenty,” he dismissed with a bashful grin.

“No, you’re not,” you told him as ‘Burn It’ continued to play. Instead of responding to you, he kissed you which you immediately deepened, Yoongi stepping back a bit by the unexpected force behind your actions, though his arms wrapped tighter around your waist so your body was flush with his.

Pulling away, he chased your lips, making you smile. “I don’t even have the words right now to tell you how proud I am of you,” you told him seriously, tears forming in your eyes. You watched as Yoongi took a deep breath, keeping his own emotions under control at your sincere confession. “Just know I’m really proud,” you said as tears threatened to fall.

He quickly nodded just before bringing a hand to your jaw as he caught your lips again, giving you several quick pecks as he composed himself.

Letting out a breath that sounded to be one of relief, Yoongi peered around your frame, inspecting the food cooking on the stove, as well as the food that had spilled outside of the pot, with a grin. “That looks good.”

“Hopefully,” you said with a smile as Yoongi nuzzled his face against your neck, refusing to let you go. With the overwhelming pride and love you felt, mixed with the fact that the man on the mixtape was all yours, and he was standing in your kitchen, in your arms, pressing sweet kisses to your neck, you had a sudden desire for him.

As ‘People’ started playing, you were instantly struck with the memory of coming to his studio as he was working on that very track. It was just the instrumental then, but it was interesting and different from the other stuff he had been working on. Yoongi must have been thinking upon the same memory as he lifted his head, a gummy grin directed to you as his eyes found yours.

“I remember the night you wrote this,” you smiled, biting your lower lip. That night, you had spent about an hour of it sitting on his desk as Yoongi sat in his chair in front of you, his chin resting on your knees as you both discussed your ideas of life, and people, and changes, and what it all meant, if it even meant anything.

You had already been dating for well over a year, but it was a moment where you and Yoongi felt a closeness between you both that hadn’t really been there before, becoming more mentally and emotionally attune with each other.

The conversation eventually faded out, the intense feeling of understanding between you both leading to you having sex on his studio couch.

“Trust me, I remember it very well,” he chuckled, his mind running through every moment of that night, from the feeling of closeness, to the warmth of your body underneath his as he pressed you against the couch cushions, the way you moaned his name and whispered ‘I love you’s’.

As the chorus of ‘People’ sounded from your laptop, your eyes widened at the sultry soothe of your boyfriend’s vocals.

“Since when do you sing like that, Min?” You teased with a smile, your eyes bouncing around his soft features. As he let out a breathy chuckle, you slid your your hands down his neck to rest overtop his collarbones as you leaned toward him and kissed him deeply.

The action took him by surprise though he easily found his rhythm, his hands slipping underneath your shirt, feeling at the bare skin of your waist.

As you began backing up, he quickly felt around to shut the stove off before following you toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Your hands found his waist as his moved to your face, taking control. You began lifting his shirt up, you both separating just long enough for you to pull it over his head and discard it somewhere in the hallway outside your room.

Eagerly, you unbuttoned his jeans, Yoongi helping you get the clothing off him as he released his hold on you to step out of them. Backing up, your legs hit the edge of the bed and you locked your eyes with your boyfriend’s. Smirking at him, you pulled your own shirt off before unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor at your feet.

Yoongi bit his lip, his eyes settling on your chest before slowly dragging them back up to meet your darkened gaze. Tilting his head at you, you quipped, “What are you waiting for?” Yoongi scoffed before approaching you and pushing your body so you fell against the mattress. He reached for the waist of your jeans, taking no time in unzipping them and tugging them down your legs, you lifting your hips to help him. Your panties were removed next, Yoongi dropping them to floor as he allowed his eyes to rake over your body, taking in every inch of you.

You sat up on your elbows, watching the man as he looked over your nude form. “For a man who brags an awful lot about being a king and a boss, you seem a bit timid, baby,” you teased in a sultry tone.

Your boyfriend scoffed again, a smirk forming on his lips. “Be patient,” he scolded, though he stepped toward you, nudging your inner knee with his leg, making you widen the gap between your thighs as he stared down at your center.

“My patience disappeared the moment I clicked play on that mixtape,” you smiled. “I want you.” With that, you sat up, your hands slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear, lowering them until they easily slid down his legs, pooling at his feet. You kept eye contact with him as you left a sweet kiss to his lower abdomen, just above his pelvic area.

He let out a quick breath as he smiled, lowering his body on top of yours, your back meeting the mattress. “If I had known Agust D would get you this worked up I would have released a mixtape two years ago,” he joked, your hands grabbing onto his sides as his lips found yours, kissing you passionately.

One of his arms was being used to prop himself up overtop you as his opposite hand slid down to your core, his fingers feeling between your legs. He groaned into your mouth at feeling how wet you’d become, and you smiled against his lips.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you used your strength to push against his body, rolling him over and straddling his hips. Yoongi’s breath was heavy and shallow as he anticipated being inside you, his large hands gripping your hips, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight of your form on top of him. He always did love you on top.

Placing one of your hands to his chest, your other found his hardened length. You stroked him a few times, Yoongi letting out a soft moan at the feeling, his hand sliding up your abdomen to your breast as he squeezed the supple flesh in his palm. At his touch, you guided him to your entrance, sharply intaking breath at the feeling of him slipping inside, letting the air out in a throaty moan.

“Fuck, Kid,” Yoongi breathed out, pinching your nipple between his fingers as you moved your hand from his dick to his chest, bracing yourself against him as you began slowly grinding atop him. Yoongi’s hand left your breast to your thigh, clutching the muscle as he bit his lip, watching your body move. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You held back a moan as you increased your pace, looking up to the ceiling before squeezing your eyes shut as he hit particularly deep. “Fuck,” you breathed out, lowering your gaze to Yoongi’s face, meeting his hooded eyes as he looked up at you in bliss.

His chest was like velvet underneath your hands and you wanted to feel more of his skin on yours. As if reading your mind, Yoongi moved his hands to your lower back, pulling you toward him so your chest was flush with his. He kissed you messily as he lifted his hips off the bed to move in and out of you as he held you to his body.

“I love you so much,” he confessed shakily against your lips, his breathing erratic due to the pleasure you were giving him.

“Oh my god, Yoongi, I love you,” you moaned, moving your face to his neck where you kissed and nibbled his skin lightly.

Wanting to treat him, you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him, sitting back up as you rocked back and forth on him, arching your back and placing a hand to his thigh to support yourself. Yoongi’s hands grabbed onto the sides of your legs as he watched you, looking more and more fucked out the longer you rode him.

Eyeing his thin but toned body, his smooth skin, and the flex of his abdomen as he took sharp breaths, you groaned. “You look so good,” you told him, admiring the man beneath you. Your man. All yours. “Feel so good,” you moaned.

One of Yoongi’s hands left your leg to find your hand that was pressed against his lower abdomen. He took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours before bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly as he locked his gaze on yours.

The intimate action had your lower abdomen tightening. Sitting up straight, you brought your hand toward him which he grabbed with his other hand, helping you to support yourself as your motions atop him became hastier, approaching your high.

“Yoon, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby,” he nodded, squeezing your hands as you neared your climax. “Me too.”

You let out a whimper, lowering your body to Yoongi’s again, your dewy chest meeting his, Yoongi wrapping his arms around your lower back as you both worked each other into your finishes. Yoongi buried his face in your neck as he let out small muffled grunts, you breathing out a moan in his ear. As he came, he hugged your body to his tightly, letting go inside you. The feeling of him releasing had you crashing into your own high, biting your lip as you moaned breathily, Yoongi kissing your neck sweetly as you came down.

You relaxed atop Yoongi, breathing heavy as his fingers toyed with the small of your back, soothing back and forth along the curve of your ass. You had a hand on his neck, slipping your fingers into his damp strands, your other hand on his chest, dragging your fingers along his pectoral.

“The mixtape is really good,” you assured him in a whisper, kissing his jaw. “Well, what I’ve heard so far.”

Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle, flattening a palm on your lower back. “Thank you, Kid.”

“No need to thank me, I’m just being honest.”

“No, thank you for always supporting me. In everything,” he clarified, emotion thick in his voice.

You lifted your head to peer at his face, catching the glassy shine in his eyes. “Always,” you assured him.

He nodded, looking at you with a soft smile. “I know,” he whispered, barely audible, giving away that he didn’t trust his voice, knowing it would break if he spoke louder. “It means- you mean the world.”

You lowered your lips to his face, giving his plush cheek a small kiss. “I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex,” you teased with a big smile, Yoongi scoffing, though he couldn’t hold back his gummy grin.

He groaned loudly, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m starving,” he changed the topic, making you giggle.

“Well, lucky for you, your girlfriend made you a delicious nearly cooked meal that is probably very cold at this point,” you smirked.

“Oh, lucky for me?” He questioned with a small smile.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed with a small chuckle.

Yoongi sucked air between his teeth, ticking his head to the side. “Remind me to wife you up later.”

You scoffed playfully, rolling off his body as you prepared to stand up and find some clothes. “In your dreams, Min.”

Scooping your t-shirt off the floor, you slipped it over your head before grabbing a pair of panties from your dresser drawer, all while Yoongi’s eyes followed your every move. Sending your boyfriend an air kiss from where he sat at the edge of the bed watching you, you walked toward the bedroom door. “Hurry up and get dressed, Gramps, I need your album commentary.”

You exited the room, turning toward the bathroom to clean yourself up. Yoongi shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, in my dreams,” he mumbled as he stood up to get dressed. Taking his sweet ass time, you walked back past the bedroom toward the kitchen, noticing him still stumbling around for a shirt.

“Hey, hustle, Min! I still have a music video to watch, my dude!” You called out to him as he looked to you with widened eyes. “Your shirt is out here, by the way.”

“Ah, what did I tell you about patience,” he whined out, a pout on his lips as he walked through the hallway, grabbing his shirt on his way, feeling full of appreciation and adoration for you.

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gbagamess · 3 years

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The 30 Best GBA Games (Game Boy Advance) of All Time 2021

1. The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap

The Icon of Zelda: The Minish Cover shirts our checklist for a variety of motives: Never-ending allure, fantastic overworld and dungeon layout, clever puzzles as well as wiser challenge aspects. The Minish Cap told the backstory of Vaati, the leading antagonist and important shape in A number of Swords. Right after Vaati petrified Princess Zelda, Hyperlink rescued a wonder sentient head wear using a bird go that, when donned, lets him get smaller into a minute dimensions just like the{Buzrush.com} Minish, the small beings who have did the trick tirelessly to aid take out darkness coming from the planet. The head wear, the game’s central quirk, was designed exploring Hyrule a lot differently than before. It opened up new locations and available new viewpoints, illuminating just how stunning the field of Hyrule actually is. The Minish Limit obtained all the prominent features of a successful Zelda online game, from excellent dungeons to whimsical townspeople for the absolute satisfaction given when launching a jewel chest. And were you aware The Minish Cap was designed by Capcom, not Nintendo? It remains to be one of the better Zelda video games of all time.

2. Golden Sunshine

Camelot Application Organizing, known for Glowing Power and Mario athletics titles, shocked every person with 2001’s Wonderful Direct sunlight, a valiant attempt at providing a unique Final Fantasy-style encounter to your hand-held foundation. And the child performed Camelot at any time to be successful. Wonderful Sunlight starred Isaac and a few other adventurers inside their quest to save the concept {Buzrush.com}of Weyard. It possessed most of the trappings of an Ultimate Fantasy online game - a help save-the-world storyline, random convert-structured battles, and summons - but it also had a good variety of overworld puzzles and much more intense tale owing to a great deal of exposition and dialogue. Its sequel, Wonderful Sunshine: The Shed Grow older, shared the tale with the perspective of the antagonists. The original is not only the best GBA RPG ever; it’s one of the best turn-based RPGs released to this day, even though both games are excellent in their own right. If you missed out on Golden Sun, find a way to play it, such as through the Wii U. A sequel called Gold Direct sunlight: If you want even more Golden Sun in your life, Dark Dawn also came to DS, as well.

3. Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow

The final and third GBA Castlevania video game, Aria of Sorrow, revealed that it had been possible for the collection to attain the level of effectiveness displayed in Symphony in the Nights. That is ideal. First, we said Metroid Fusion was better than Super Metroid, and now we’re putting Aria of Sorrow on the same pedestal{Buzrush.com} as Symphony of the Night. In contrast to its predecessors, Aria of Sorrow got the vampiric sequence into the long term, setting customers within the boots of Soma Cruz, a teen with occult energy who could produce the reincarnation of Dracula. Aria of Sorrow has got the low-linear research of SotN, meaningful RPG mechanics, a handful of great weapons, and a series of daunting but incredible boss struggles. Throw in the Strategic Souls technician, which adjusts gameplay and data by beating foes, and Aria of Sorrow was the richest entrance in the collection currently. It holds right now as one of the greatest Castlevania games, and for a flavor of a related design activity, try Bloodstained: Routine of your Nighttime on Change.

4. Metroid Fusion

It’s no great surprise Metroid Fusion was developed via the similar team that manufactured Extremely Metroid. Fusion almost looked like an not related sequel if this started in 2002. Combination showcased in a similar fashion extended {Buzrush.com}open-society to learn, allowing gamers to review and reveal ways and secrets ahead at their own speed. The team at Nintendo R&D1 highly processed the fight from Awesome Metroid and released several new power-mechanics and ups at the same time. Metroid Fusion is not just one of the best games on GBA; it’s the best 2D Metroid ever made, even though it may be blasphemous to say.

5. The Story of Zelda: A Web Link to the Earlier and A number of Swords

Not much has to be stated regarding a Url to the Past, the common top notch-lower Zelda trip for the SNES. The GBA dock helped bring the mesmerizing Dark and Light Worlds of Hyrule to hand-held correctly. The port also introduced a new element, however, named A number of Swords. This supportive mode allows a 2 to 4{Buzrush.com} player workforce to approximately get rid of puzzles and defeat baddies in dungeons. However the primary strategy is exactly what eventually earns The Link to the Earlier an increased identity within this collection, adding A number of Swords created the GBA version the definitive solution to enjoy one of the greatest games ever, even when compared to Nintendo Change On the internet type available by using a subscription.

6. Upfront Wars

Smart Techniques, the recording studio behind Fire Emblem, have also been powering the greatest transform-based method video game on GBA: Advance Wars. The idea was simple: A glowing blue army face looked out against a reddish army, every single one composed of tanks, infantrymen, and artillery. Boasting difficult proper gameplay, a deep promotion, as well as a chart creator, Progress Competitions got all the things a technique enthusiast could want. Like Fireplace Logo, Advance Conflicts originated from{Buzrush.com} a Japanese exceptional collection named Famicom Conflicts, so we are rather lucky to get it in Canada And America. The GBA also got a sequel in Advance Competitions 2: Black colored Pit Escalating. Whilst great, it observed more like add more-on information due to the actually powerful forerunner, as well as the DS sequels weren’t as vintage since the initial. For your similar practical experience, look at Wargroove on Nintendo Swap.

7. Metroid: Zero Goal

Exactly what do you get if you mix the atmosphere and nostalgia in the authentic Metroid with current mechanics? Properly, a darn great sport. Metroid: No Vision, a reimagining of your 1986 classic, retold the storyline of Samus Aran’s initial venture together with the enhanced fight evident in Super Metroid and Metroid Fusion. {Buzrush.com}Beautiful to view and even far better to engage in, Zero Objective manufactured going back to World Zebes feels fully unique again.

8. WarioWare: Twisted!

Established from the frantic “microgame” formula of WarioWare, Inc.: Mega Microgames! , WarioWare: Twisted! included drive comments - certainly one of only two GBA game titles to possess the feature - and also a gyro sensing unit. The outcome? An event unlike another for the hand held. Microgames are necessary competitors to complete speedy-flame activities within minutes. None of the games were particularly complex, but all of them were entertaining. Also the plan, which associated Wario getting{Buzrush.com}mad with a game on GBA and flinging the handheld at the wall structure, fell completely in line with the game’s irreverent development. If you played it in public, ferociously twisting and turning your GBA like a madman, on a scale of sheer “fun value,” you’d be hard-pressed to find a more satisfying GBA game, especially. Some of the games can also be found in the 3DS generate WarioWare Yellow gold, in conjunction with microgames from the other collection.

9. Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga

Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga kicked off of one among Nintendo’s best Mario games and spin off selection. Despite the fact that starting off within the familiarized Mushroom Empire, the video game speedily transitions to Beanbean Kingdom, a substantial world how the bros should traverse to recover Princess Peach’s speech. Split{Buzrush.com} up to the core concept, Superstar Saga had been a flip-dependent part-playing activity. But Nintendo and today-defunct programmer AlphaDream layered the combat by adding timing-structured maneuvers that nodded to Mario’s platforming origins. Controlling Mario and Luigi all at once also contributed to the game’s many fun spot puzzles. Superstar Saga stands apart today as the GBA’s ideal RPGs.

10. Closing Imagination VI

Closing Fantasy VI did not arrive at Game Child Upfront in America till 2007, greater than two year period after the Nintendo DS started. Often, it is introduced like a “thank you” to Activity Boy followers for his or her lengthy-standing help and support. Final Fantasy VI was a pitch-perfect port that brought the epic story, strategic {Buzrush.com}gameplay, and wondrous soundtrack to a handheld device for the first time, as one of the best entries in the long-running role-playing series. Final Fantasy VI rightfully earns a spot on our list, even though the GBA also received great ports of Final Fantasy I & II, Final Fantasy IV, and Final Fantasy V. It is merely the most effective RPGs ever produced and one of many top Closing Imagination game titles in recent history.

More Info-

https://www.buzrush.com/the-30-best-gba-games-game-boy-advance-of-all-time-2021/

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guqin-and-flute · 3 years

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Modern 3zun/A-Fu Verse--Baby Acquisition Continuation

[Part 1] [Modern A-Fu Verse] [AO3 Series]

[Crediting @little-smartass with a lot of the characterization/story beats because I’m positive we’ve had a conversation about this at some point]

“He really is as bald as a little cue ball, isn’t he?”

It took Meng Yao several seconds to register that words had been spoken, another to parse the words, then another to tear his gaze up from the pile of early childhood development books he was accumulating in his lap, color coded tabs bristling from the edges. Da-ge was sprawled in the corner of their enormous sage green couch in his slacks and undershirt, bathed in the ghostly, swimming glow of the TV on mute. He was looking down fondly at the newborn tucked into the crook of his arm, fast asleep with his fist shoved up against his face.

A newborn that was, in fact, very bald. And so very tiny.

“Is that normal? Is that a sign of something?” Meng Yao began to anxiously dig around in the plush crevices of the armchair he was folded into for his phone, preparing to search something along the lines of ‘is baby baldness bad??’

On the other half of the L of the couch from Mingjue, Xichen sucked in a shuddering breath through his nose, making them both freeze and look over. But all he did was sigh in his sleep and return to his motionless sprawl where he had collapsed about an hour and a half ago when Mingjue forcibly removed the baby from his arms and insisted he lay down. “Just for 5 minutes,” Meng Yao had also reasoned in a two pronged attack. “No one says you have to nap. Just close your eyes for a bit, then you can take him again while Da-ge makes dinner, if you want.”

Of course, he had fallen asleep immediately as they all had known he would. But one had to give Xichen explicit permission and then a backup compromise and then incentive before he considered doing something so selfish as making sure he wasn’t dead on his feet, even after a day of running errands with an 7 day old who was still suffering from stomach upset from travel. Meng Yao and Mingjue were long since practiced in being able to maneuver around his particular aversion of self care.

When their eyes met again, Mingjue’s were crinkled and he teased in a lower voice, “Being bald is a sign of being an infant, A-Yao. You really know nothing about babies, do you?”

Meng Yao aggressively squashed back the automatic bridling that happened every time a flaw in his...anything was pointed out. Instead, he primly brandished a pastel yellow book with curlicue flowers around the edge. “I am learning.” It’s not my fault I obtained all my siblings after adolescence. Not for lack of trying...

“I’m telling you, most of those are gonna be useless. Everyone’s got something to say and it’s all going to be different. You’re better off just winging it,” Mingjue stage whispered dismissively, rolling his eyes. “It’s just until Xichen’s uncle gets the custody stuff all worked out, so he’ll be gone before you know it. Just enjoy the baby-head smell while he’s here.”

The what? He narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re making fun of me.”

For some reason, a grin spread over Da-ge’s face--a delighted, self satisfied grin. “Oh.” He got up--(”Don’t wake him up--” Meng Yao hissed, stiffening, remembering his disconcerting little mewling cries from Xichen’s return from the store)--and easily cupped the infant up to his shoulder as he crossed the thick cream carpeting.

“Make room, come on,” Mingjue whispered, grabbing a stack of books in one large hand and carelessly tossing them onto the basket of neatly folded throw blankets beside the armchair.

Lips pursed and fully harassed, now, Meng Yao neatly piled the remaining books down by the leg of the chair. “Why do you insist--” When he sat back up, he immediately almost fumbled the armful of baby that was thrust into them. But Mingjue seemed to have been ready for this, because he just kept pressing him into his chest until Meng Yao’s hold came up automatically to support him.

The baby was warm and very soft, with no tension in him at all as he slept. And so light--almost like some sort of doll. It was hard to believe he was a real, living human being instead of some sort of strange hairless animal. Baxia had more heft, for god’s sake and she was a cat.

For some reason, Meng Yao’s heart rate immediately spiked as if he were being chased. His palms and neck began to sweat. It’s not like he hadn’t held the child in the day that he had been here, he just...well, he actually hadn’t. He hadn’t held any child before--his nephew wasn’t quite born yet and he had never been in a foster home with a baby. All yesterday and last night, he had shadowed Mingjue while he changed the diapers, observing techniques such as ‘The Turkey Hold’ and ‘Tissues Before Wet Wipes’. He had noted the ease with which Xichen just palmed him belly down like a fragile little football while packing the lunches Mingjue had assembled for him and Meng Yao to take to work, or patiently maneuvered his little sausage limbs in and out of clothes like he wasn’t afraid of breaking him.

And they certainly weren’t keeping him from Meng Yao--but he was still researching and information gathering while they had plenty of experience. And the stakes seemed absurdly high to chance a failure with this particular subject He hadn’t been avoiding it, just...he was sure the opportunity would present itself. Eventually.

His face was round and slightly alien in its minute proportions; a perfect miniature of a proper nose, a fine dusting of eyebrows above completely smooth little eyelids, a tiny squinch of a mouth that had fallen open in sleep. And he sort of smelled like...slightly sour milk and the floral baby detergent Xichen had bought. Nothing that special.

Cautiously, Meng Yao attempted a gentle joggle with his arms, then froze when those little fingers flexed and the baby made a noise, halfway between a snort and a grunt, but so tiny. How on earth did anything this tiny and helpless even exist? How was he allowed to hold something that had this much potential? This much importance? His father wouldn’t even let him touch his fountain pen at the office--how would he ever let Meng Yao hold his heir? “A-Yao, breathe,” Mingjue’s whisper was nearby and amused and when he looked up at him, Meng Yao saw his face was close, leaning down, hands braced on both arms of the chair. Blocking escape.

“I think you should take him back,” Meng Yao hurriedly whispered back. “I don’t think he likes me. He’s going to wake up and cry.”

Mingjue shrugged. “He might.”

Anxiety, old and choking, rose up in his throat like bile, like failure. “Then take him back.”

The asshole just raised his eyebrow. “No. If he does, it’s not the end of the world. Calm down, smell his head.”

“I can smell him just fine from here, I--”

“Smell his head, I’m telling you--”

“Mingjue--” he hissed, baring his teeth, instinctively looking over at the sleeping Xichen to be the tie breaker and peacemaker, but Mingjue just put the back of his fingers to Meng Yao’s cheek and (gently. Always gently.) pushed his face toward the tiny round head tucked to his shoulder.

Stiffly, he gave a grudging, perfunctory sniff, intending to follow the exact letter of the order and not the spirit, because if he was going to be forced--

Oh. Oh. What? Pressing his nose closer, he breathed in properly. What on earth...

His head did smell different from the old spit up and detergent. Warm and--and--almost sweet but not, somehow mild and calming? It felt familiar, even though it wasn’t. How was this unwinding something in his chest? Without intending to, he breathed out through his mouth in order to hastily draw in another breath, deep and slow. It smelled like... sleep and home and softness. Comfort. And he did have hair, actually--downy little fluff, close to the scalp, soft like velvet when he pressed his lips to it to take a third breath. How did the top of his head smell so good? Was it the baby soap they had used? No, it wasn’t, because he could smell traces of that, soapy and artificial. This was something completely organic that somehow exuded from his scalp?

Mingjue chuckled above his head and Meng Yao opened his eyes--that he didn’t even remember closing. He knew he should probably feel more annoyed at his partner’s smugness but the tension that had been humming through him seemed to have utterly bled away. “There, now, was that so hard?”

“What...is it?” he murmured against the baby’s head, unable to tear his nose away.

“Baby-head smell.”

“Baby-head smell?”

“Mm.”

“Do they--do they all smell like this?”

“More or less. It’s so we don’t eat them when they wake us up in the middle of the night, probably. Hormones and shit.”

“Has someone bottled this? Made it into a candle?” He whispered, affronted. “Is this known?” None of the early childhood development books he had read even alluded to the fact that baby heads apparently smelled like magic. “Does Xichen know?”

Mingjue snorted. “Of course you consider marketing. Yeah, most people who’ve handled babies know about the baby-head smell, so now you do, too. Instant stress relief.”

It was. It was like a drug, how instantaneously it worked. Meng Yao greedily breathed in again, cupping his tiny head closer to him. He could feel the thrum of his heart through his back against his forearms.

Mingjue huffed a fond laugh through his nose and smoothed his hand heavily down Meng Yao’s hair, swaying them both gently as one. “See? Not so scary. Now sit there and relax with baby. I’ll make us all dinner.”

Meng Yao could do that--and quite happily.

#modern 3zun #jgy #nmj #lxc #3zun #also yes the baby is A-Fu he just doesn't have a name yet #I wanted to give them a baby and give them a chance to name him because they don't have either opportunity in the other AU #ALSO GOD I MISS BABIES ;A;#Well it wouldn't be a JGY POV without the shadow of a panic attack but I FIXED IT QUICK #THIS IS A FUN AU. FUN FUN FUN #my stuff #my fic #'he's just here for a little while' suuuuuuure Mingjue >.>

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snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 3 years

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Blue Moon - Part 1

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.)

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,746

Xxx

“So what’s it like living with a Hale?” Stiles asked, turning away from your locker after you shut it. Both of you fell into step with Scott as you made your way to your next class.

You must have grimaced or made some face with a slight slant of your eyebrows only a Stilinski could read, because Stiles let out a snort. “That bad?”

You shrugged, sighing. “I mean, it’s not like I expected it to be a walk in the park, it is Derek Hale after all.” Scott chuckled with a gentle shake of his head, making you smile before you continued. “But I didn’t expect it to be this…. easy….. either.”

“Easy?” Scott questioned, making the same face you must have initially as Stiles let out another snort of laughter.

“Yeah, I mean, the first few days were awkward. If we weren’t training we weren’t doing anything. The man is silent, had no TV, or any of that-”

“Wait, ‘had’?” Stiles held out his hand, effectively cutting off your sentence and your steps, your shoes screeching on the floor at the sudden stop.

“Yes, had. He now has a TV, streaming services- yes, Stiles, services as in plural, if you keep your eyebrows that high they may stick that way, and it’s not the best look for you…”

“So at least there is something to fill the silence at least.” Scott resumed walking, you followed a few steps behind, Stiles lagging, jaw still dropped in shock.

“Well, yeah,” you agreed with Scott, and this time you felt your eyebrows making the face.

“But….?” Scott’s prodding was gentle, but his face held a smirk.

“But somewhere along the way we went from off handed comments during a news broadcast, or some show we were watching, to actually pausing it to have some discussion, or referencing some situation later and asking if the other had had something similar happen, or just opening up about random experiences and stuff. It’s…”

“Weird?” This time Stiles prodded, earning a glare and gentle whack on the arm from Scott.

“Well, maybe it’s because you’re…. new.” Scott opted for a more discrete word for ‘werewolf’ in the crowded hallways. “He may feel like opening up more because of the pack mentality and all.”

“No, it’s not because she’s…. new.” Stiles raised one eyebrow on the word as he addressed Scott, earning a sigh and eye roll from the young Beta. “The man is a brooding wall of leather and growls.” You chuckled at the description, making Stiles grin. “I think we finally found our miracle cure for our Sourwolf!”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up.” You held up your hands as if to physically stop their words. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. We know you two like each other. It’s so obvious.” Stiles immediately closed his mouth, his lips a tight line, eyes wide and eyebrows in his hairline in his signature “I was not supposed to say that” face.

“What?” you deadpanned to your friend.

The bell rang, and Scott, wide eyed and smiling too broadly, gave Stiles a shove on the shoulder in the opposite direction of your next class as Stiles muttered, “Oh, look. The bell.” They both began to walk quickly the opposite way.

“Guys!” you yelled. “This is not over! But I am not responsible for you guys missing another class, what does that make, like fifteen already this semester?”

Your two friends stilled and turned on their heels, ushering past you quickly, avoiding your glare, Stiles looking at Scott and muttering, “See, Scott? I told you our class with Miss Blake was this way.”

“Ugh,” you mumbled under your breath. The sour expression stayed on your face even after you sat at your desk in the back of the class.

Chuckling, Stiles chanced a glance your way from beside you, hoping to change the subject from his ultimate fail in the hallway. “You still don’t like her?”

“I still don’t like her.” You overlapped his last few words, matching his gentle nod with one of your own as you stared straight ahead at the teacher’s still vacant desk.

“What is it about her you don’t like?”

“I just have a really bad feeling whenever I see her. Something just isn’t right.”

Scott chuckled, opening his book to the proper page. “You’re just mad that she gives you a little bit of a harder time.”

“You mean she gives me ‘more attention’?” you asked, your words rising to a ridiculous octave as they repeated Jennifer’s words she had used when she assigned you some extra credit to help raise your grade so you could stay on the lacrosse team. Your friends chuckled at your words. “I’m sorry, not everyone can be amazing at everything, being a wer-” you stopped yourself, clearing your throat before continuing- “new-” you looked at Scott pointedly, earning you a glare and Stiles’ laughter on your other side- “doesn’t allow for a whole lot of extra studying time.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. I know you feel that way now, but it will pass,” Scott said with a smile as Miss Blake walked in, setting things on her desk, and he chuckled as you glared at her. “This is all ephemeral.”

You looked at Stiles, your face blank, voice a deadpan. “You ever buy him a word of the day subscription thing again, and I will rip your throat out.” You flickered your yellow eyes at him discreetly. “With my teeth.”

“With your teeth,” Stiles mumbled, overlapping your words, both of you nodding in agreement again. “I asked what it’s like living with a Hale, and now I got my answer.” He looked at you, shaking his head mockingly. “You’re becoming one of them. It’s contagious. We’ll call it ‘Sourwolf Syndrome’.”

Xxx

Due to your parents’ professions taking them all over the place constantly, like Allison, you were actually a year older than your friends, having to repeat a year a few grades back. But you wouldn’t change it for anything, because that’s how you met your best friends.

It helped that your parents were away on business most of the time, so no one questioned your staying at Derek’s loft for so long. You stopped by every few days to get the mail and check on the plants around the house, packing some new clothes if needed, Derek sitting outside in his car the first few times, but lately he had taken to coming in and helping you do the few things you had to do.

You told yourself it was just because of the increased threat that he wanted to be closer to his newest Beta. He didn’t have too many of those these days, you thought bitterly, smirking to yourself. You stared blankly as you rinsed out your coffee cup in the sink, and a wave of sadness washed over you as you thought of Erica, her absence still fresh and raw. The two of you had never really been close; just acquaintances at school, then pack members briefly, before she was gone.

Boyd had really withdrawn himself after that, and you didn’t blame him. You knew he probably felt how you did times ten. When Cora had been here briefly she mentioned losing a pack member was like losing a limb, and she hadn’t been wrong.

Then Derek had kicked both Cora and Isaac out of the loft, claiming it wasn’t safe with the Alpha Pack around. Isaac was staying with Scott, but you didn’t know where Cora had disappeared to. Peter was a wild card, so you didn’t even try to factor him in, and Scott outright refused to be a member of Derek’s pack. He was an Alpha with Beta eyes, and an enigma for another time.

The point was, Derek was running low in the Beta department lately.

The only reason Derek had you staying at the loft and followed you around the house when you had to go was because you were the newest, or so he said. Deep down you knew he just didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to you. He wanted to control the situation as much as possible which, you guessed, you were kind of glad, being new to this whole werewolf thing, and admittedly not wanting to stay home alone again, human or werewolf.

At least at the loft, even in the times before Derek brought home the TV and stuff, the silence had been comfortable. You’d never admit it to anyone, but just being in the presence of another living, breathing being, even one as brooding and somewhat annoying as Derek Hale, was nice.

And you sure as hell weren’t going to think about how he had helped you with your homework sometimes, especially with that English extra credit. He had a side he didn’t share often, and you were glad you got to see it. It was like a rare spotting of a mythological creature.

You smiled to yourself, watching the water in the cup filling clear now, the mug long clean, and you let your feelings wash away down the drain with the water as you turned it off.

Setting the mug in the sink, you took a deep breath, letting the feelings whirling around you fully roll off your back, rolling your shoulders back as they did.

Stepping into the doorway to the living room you saw him delicately watering some houseplant your mom babied. The first few times he had just poured water at its base, and you had to stop him, showing him how it had to be done, otherwise he’d over water it. And since then, though he had said initially that it was stupid under his breath, he took meticulous care to check if it even needed watering, and then watered it properly, like you showed him, even bringing books home to the loft about how to care for the various types of plants your mom had around the house. You found it endearing.

Smiling softly, you gently shook your head. One second you were bitter towards him, the next finding little things that made him amazing. “I’m going to go grab some clothes, my stuff got torn to hell last week when we dealt with what’s his face,” you said offhandedly, starting up the stairs. So many baddies came through this town, you got them all confused.

Derek chuckled. “Okay. You know you can always borrow some of my clothes if you need to.”

You stopped midstep on the staircase, each foot on a different step, and your grip on the bannister tightened, your knuckles turning white.

This.

This is why you had such conflicting emotions about this man. Wolf. Wolfman.

“Are you sure?” You kept your voice even, smiling softly.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, makes more sense then driving all the way over here.” His voice tried to be neutral, but it was evident he was trying to cover up something he had let slip before really thinking about it.

“Thanks. I’ll remember that next time.” You nodded once to each other before you took two steps calmly and then practically ran up the rest of them to your room.

Holding a hand to your chest, taking deep breaths to try and stabilize your heartbeat, you slumped against the door after you closed it, sighing.

You tried not to over analyze what he said, but failed.

You knew he probably was making some underhanded comment about your abilities, “coming all the way over here”, really he wanted to say, “you suck at being a werewolf, you’re always getting hurt and your clothes destroyed in the process”.

“You too, wolfman. You too,” you mumbled under your breath as you angrily rifled through one of your drawers, grabbing a few things.

You chuckled a dark laugh. “But I’m an Alpha, Y/N. I’ll heal faster.” You mocked his deep tone, your search in your drawer turning into an aimless activity, the contents totally mixed up now.

He had never been around whenever you had gotten in a hit or takedown on the baddies you guys had encountered so far in your short time in this world. For some reasons you ended up on opposite sides of the battle fields, and he never said it directly, but you knew he probably thought you sucked. How else does one end up with torn shirts from claw marks and blood being covered by your jacket?

Everyone else had called you a badass, but Derek had yet to compliment or even comment on your fighting ability. But maybe, since he trained you, that spoke more to his ability and not yours, you thought with a smirk. Satisfied with the thought, you grabbed a few clothes out of the drawer before snapping it shut.

After a few steps toward the door, you slowed to a stop, absently staring at the clothes in your hand as your thoughts cleared a little from your earlier anger.

If it was a reflection on how he thought he was, that was kind of sad. Did he really think so lowly of himself and his abilities?

You had only been in this world a short time now, but even you had to admit he was a good Alpha. A good wolfm- werewolf. A good man. He was a great person to have at your back in a fight and in mundane things like math, which was also a fight, but that was a thought for another day. He was a good friend to have, period.

Shaking your head and chuckling gently at yourself, you wondered why your thoughts were everywhere. Glancing at your calendar on the wall, you saw the full moon was coming up soon and rolled your eyes. Of course.

This would pass. This was ephemeral. You groaned softly as you made your way back down the stairs. Stiles was going to pay.

Derek met your eyes when you made it to the last step, hopping the last few inches to the first floor. He set down the watering can softly.

“Do I really sound like that?” His lips twitched upward slightly.

Screwing up your face in confusion it took you a second to realize he had heard your mutterings as you disorganized the contents of your drawer upstairs. Realization crossed your face before your palm slapped to your forehead, the groan passing your lips before you could stop it.

Derek laughed, and you looked at him apologetically, to which he motioned with his hand as if waving it away and smiled at the floor where his gaze was focused. “Don’t worry about it. I just always thought my voice was deeper than that.”

He chuckled even more as you swatted his arm, laughing gently yourself. He grabbed your wrist playfully before you could withdraw your hand, and you found yourself pulled closer to him, almost toe to toe and having to crane your neck to look up and meet his eyes that looked down at you with some emotion you couldn’t decipher.

That comfortable silence hung around you two like a blanket… Until his phone rang.

As he fished it out of his pocket, you softly cleared your throat and took a small step back, feeling Derek’s gaze on you the whole time.

“Hello?” His voice was gruff and annoyed, and he was still staring at you. It almost seemed like he was upset at whoever was on the other end for interrupting his moment with you.

But that thought quickly evaporated.

“Jennifer!” He said it with a broad smile on his face, his voice a total about face from his greeting, and his eyes moving from you to the wall behind you.

It couldn’t be who you thought. There was no way. That would be too much of a coincidence.

“No, I’m not busy,” he said, turning to the door.

Grabbing his arm to stop him, he turned to look at you, eyebrows raised in question and, if you weren’t mistaken, slight annoyance.

“What?” he mouthed.

“Who is that?” you whispered.

“A friend,” he hissed.

“Who is it?” you hissed back at him.

“Your English teacher, Jennifer Blake.” He shrugged out of your grip and out your front door, motioning you to the car.

You seethed as you turned off the lights, grabbing your bag of clothes, and locking the door after you.

Reason number five hundred and sixty two to hate Miss Jennifer Blake.

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra What’s This?

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cheri-translates · 3 years

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[CN] Victor’s Business Trip Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 出差之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Note: This date features S2 Victor, but contains no main storyline spoilers!

[ This date was released on 13 May 2021 ]

"This flight will be reaching its destination soon. Please fasten your seatbelts...”

Hearing the announcement, I shift my gaze away from the notebook laptop, rubbing my slightly swollen eyes.

The company recently took up an important collaboration, which is why I had to make final amendments to the proposal even in the middle of a business trip.

Drawing up the window at the side, what enters my vision is a patch of deep blue. Above the vast water, the small islands are reminiscent of dark emerald gems.

MC: So beautiful...

It’s as if I’m able to sense the greenery from across the window, and it adds a tinge of anticipation to this trip.

Even though the reason why I’m here is to attend an international meeting spanning three days.

The moment I step out of the airport, I see the apologetic expression on the staff’s face.

Staff: Hello, are you Miss MC?

MC: It’s me. Did something happen?

Staff: I’m incredibly sorry. Because of our negligence, the car that was supposed to pick you up is scheduled to arrive only in the afternoon. However, another guest has agreed to share a car with you to the venue.

MC: That’s fine, as long as the other party doesn’t mind.

When we reach the carpark, my brows arch at the sight of a long Bentley. I can’t help but criticise silently that the host would use a car with such high specifications.

The staff steps aside to pull the door open. I bend and enter the car, prepared to thank this important guest whom I have disturbed.

MC: Hello, thank you...

Lifting my eyes, I meet an indifferent face.

MC: ...Victor?!

In the spacious car, Victor is wearing a black suit as he typically does, a thin picture album in his hands.

Since Victor, who should be at another end of the earth, has appeared before my eyes, I’m unable to react immediately.

MC: ...what are you doing here?!

Victor: Why can’t I be here? LFG receives an invitation from the host each year. This year is no exception.

He glances at the time on the television screen installed in the car. He taps his knuckles against the picture album, his tone calm.

Victor: Also, who else would be willing to wait fifteen minutes for you.

I clear my throat hastily, displaying a brilliant smile.

MC: I have to give CEO Victor a proper thanks for waiting patiently then! But I really didn’t expect you to attend the meeting personally. Didn’t you always refuse in previous years?

Victor looks at me with slight surprise.

Victor: You remember these things really clearly. I happen to have time this year, and...

He pauses, his gaze landing on me.

Victor: I wanted to see if a certain acclaimed producer is just as skilful and at ease when faced with an international collaborative partner.

Hearing the mildly teasing tone in Victor’s words, I can't help but crinkle my eyes into a smile.

MC: In that case, I definitely won’t disappoint CEO Victor. This meeting is really important to our company. I’m bringing out one hundred percent of my fighting spirit, which I haven’t done in a very long time.

While speaking, I scoot backwards into the soft chair. With Victor at my side, the tension that I’ve been experiencing is finally alleviated slightly.

MC: Fortunately, the host arranged for the venue to be at a resort. We can have a good rest too. I heard the scenery on that small island is pretty good. And there are lots of kittens...

Victor: I’m guessing the reason why you came here to attend the meeting was for the resort.

Hearing this, I stare at the picture album in his hands. The page which has been flipped open happens to be the view I saw from the plane. It’s clearly a brochure for this place.

MC: CEO Victor, aren’t you looking at a brochure?

Victor: It was to while the time away while waiting for someone.

Even though I’ve exposed Victor, his expression remains unchanged. He closes the brochure composedly, which has a few images of cat paws on it.

Victor: Do you want to look at it?

MC: No need. Actually, the main reason why I came here isn’t for the resort.

Victor: Then what is it?

The expression in my eyes changes, revealing a smile.

MC: My reason is very obvious. It’s to expand our company’s influence internationally, and obtain a few more million dollars’ worth of LFG’s investments.

Victor doesn’t refute my words. Instead, he folds his arms in front of his chest and leans against the wall of the car, meeting my eyes calmly.

Victor: What do you plan to do?

MC: Before coming here, I noted down the organisers and brands, then wrote proposals based on their preferences and styles. But from the looks of it, there seems to be a faster method.

I smile while facing Victor, speaking unhurriedly.

MC: For instance... getting close to an extremely important guest at the meeting.

Victor arches his brows, the upward curl at the corners of his lips softening his well-defined features.

Victor: I’ll look forward to it then.

The meeting that spanned the entire afternoon finally comes to a temporary end. After politely turning down an invitation to the dinner banquet, I leave the venue, standing outside and taking in breaths of fresh air.

Victor: Why are you hiding here?

Turning my head, I see Victor who appears to be leaving as well.

MC: I’m heading back to rest and prepare for tomorrow’s main event. What about you? What are you planning to do?

He glances at the insuppressible fatigue on my face, then continues walking.

Victor: Like you, I’m heading back to rest.

He doesn’t walk quickly, as though waiting for me to chase after him. Curling the corners of my lips, I speed up my footsteps and follow him.

In this resort surrounded by water, exquisite glass houses sit among the elegant scenery, reminiscent of illustrations from a fairytale.

Two small wooden signboards with cats drawn on them attract my attention, and I continuously turn my head around to peer at them.

Victor: What are you looking at that has left you unable to walk properly?

MC: There’s a story written on these wooden signboards, and I find it interesting.

It’s a simple yet heartwarming short story: a mysterious kitten knocks on the door of guests, giving them a secret, warm gift.

MC: Do you think a kitten will knock on my window tonight?

I turn to Victor, saying this jokingly. However, he’s the same as always, shattering my imagination with his words.

Victor: It’s just an advertising tactic by the resort.

Kitten: Meow~

Before he finishes speaking, a soft sound drifts from the thick clump of grass at the side. My eyes brighten instantly.

MC: See? The Cat Resort lives up to its name.

Very soon, a calico cat leaps out from the thick grass, its black eyes seeming to scrutinise the both of us.

I squat down, wanting to reach out to play with it. However, it’s incredibly proud and aloof.

MC: ...what a cold cat.

The “cold” calico cat avoids my outstretched hand and goes to Victor’s feet, circling him in a clingy manner.

MC: Why is it only warm towards you?

Victor: Your earlier enthusiasm probably gave it a scare.

Kitten: Meow~ Meow meow~

The kitten lifts its tiny head, raising a paw and “condescendingly” leaves two paw prints on Victor’s trousers before leaving in a leisurely manner.

Victor: ...

Watching it jump back into the grass, I retract my gaze, continuing forward with Victor.

MC: I didn't expect you to have an affinity with animals. Whenever I want to get close to the stray cats below the company building, I have to “give offerings” of cat food first.

The gentle evening breeze brushes past. In this leisurely atmosphere, Victor’s tone is casual and relaxed.

Victor: Maybe the cat food you bought doesn’t taste good.

MC: I buy high quality cat food, okay?

Engaging in idle chatter while walking, we soon reach the houses that have been prepared for us.

Detached glass houses scattered in a disorderly fashion appear before our eyes. What surprises me is that the small house Victor is staying in happens to face mine.

The two windows aren’t that far apart, and they face each other, conjuring a carefree atmosphere.

MC: I didn’t expect our residences to be so close by. This way, we could start chatting just by opening the windows.

Victor: ...I won’t do such a silly thing with you.

MC: I was just kidding. See you tomorrow! Rest early, CEO Victor.

Waving at him happily, I turn around and push open the door to the small glass house.

Everything in the small house is as exquisite as the exterior. Through the transparent ceiling, I can see the glow of sunset.

Now that I’ve returned to the residence, the exhaustion from the journey immediately spreads through my four limbs. With a “plonk”, I fall onto the soft bed.

It is only after releasing a huge breath that I think about shutting the curtains. When I walk over to the small balcony, I see the person standing opposite.

Victor is holding a cup of coffee at the window, and is currently meeting my gaze.

He has removed his outer jacket and has his sleeves rolled up, making his entire person seem much more relaxed. I can detect a smile from the expression in his eyes.

Recalling how I looked sprawled on the bed earlier, my face instantly heats up.

MC: [whispering] That’s so embarrassing...

Pretending to be calm, I shoot Victor a smile, then tug on the thick curtains firmly.

The room instantly descends into dimness, and also covers the slight tinge of red on my face.

Buzz buzz - at this moment, my phone vibrates.

Victor: There’s a meeting tomorrow. Sleep early, and don’t get overly excited.

Upon waking up, the room is so dark that there doesn’t seem to be any light coming in. Drawing the curtains, I realise that the sky’s almost dark.

Warm yellow lights from the opposite house enter my vision, reminiscent of tender candlelight in twilight.

At some point of time, it had started raining outside.

And behind that curtain of rain, there’s an indistinct figure.

Victor seems to be reading documents while sitting by the window.

MC: He’s still busy with work at this time?

After thinking about it, I put on a coat and sneak out of the door.

MC: Thanks for your help.

Carrying the congee I purchased as a take-out, I walk down the glass-roofed corridors. Falling rain patters outside the corridor, embellishing the night with even more coldness.

Kitten: Meow~

At this moment, a calico kitten suddenly appears at the side, and it’s clearly the same cat Victor and I met before.

With the same happy and contented gait, it comes up to me, then lifts its head to stare at me.

After being confused for a few seconds, I lift the congee in my hand, and the kitten’s line of sight slowly shifts upwards too.

MC: Turns out you’re just a little greedy cat despite your aloof appearance. But I can’t let you eat this. I still need to feed a “big cat”.

Despite me leaving mercilessly, the calico cat follows behind me all the way.

MC: Fine, you can visit Victor with me then.

It lets out an excited “meow”, though I’m unsure if it understood what I said.

MC: I’ll take that as an agreement.

When I walk to the small glass house, Victor’s room is still lit. I pick up the cat and lean towards the window, tapping on the window with a thud.

The figure sitting in front of the window pauses. The curtains which weren’t closed completely are pulled open.

Victor’s face appears in the window clearly. When he sees me and the cat in my arms, he’s slightly stunned for a moment, obvious surprise flashing across his face.

Warm light illuminates the room with a soft and comforting glow. Even Victor, who is sitting amidst the warm colour, seems to become much gentler.

Lifting the kitten’s paw, I wave it a few times in greeting.

MC: Hello Mr Victor. We’re here to give you a present.

He chuckles in resignation, the word “dummy” leaving his lips silently.

Victor sets the documents down neatly, then gets up to open the window. While supporting the window frame with a hand, he looks down at me with a scrutinising gaze.

Victor: What are you doing outside this late instead of sleeping?

MC: I should be the one asking you that. Why are you still working this late!

Hearing this, he lifts his hand and rubs the space between his eyebrows, but the veins in his eyes can still be seen faintly.

Victor: There’s an issue related to an acquisition by LFG. Goldman called and asked for my opinion.

MC: Is the issue serious?

Victor: It’s manageable.

He sets down his hand and brings it to me. I stare at this unfurled hand, blinking in confusion.

Victor: Didn’t you say you brought something for me?

Only now do I remember my official business, and I hide the thermal bag with the congee within it in my arms.

MC: Victor, are you going to take my congee and then ask me to leave?

Victor: ...when did I say that. It’s just that a certain someone has a “tough battle” to fight tomorrow, and has to maintain her vigour.

MC: I’m fine. I just took a nap and feel so much better.

While we’re talking, the kitten in my arms suddenly meows impatiently. Then, it leaps out of my arms.

It jumps into Victor’s room deftly, then stands on his desk, licking its paw calmly.

MC: ...it really likes you. It doesn’t even want my congee now.

I grumble, and Victor suddenly chuckles softly.

Victor: Didn't you buy the congee for me? I don’t intend to share it.

Hearing this, I recall the serious matter I came to attend to by making this trip.

I scan my surroundings. It’s still raining, and there’s quite a distance to the door. And this window happens to be sufficiently low.

After giving it some thought, I roll my wrists, then speak.

MC: Victor... move a little to the side.

Victor: What are you planning to do now?

Victor arches his brows in a lack of comprehension. However, he follows what I said and shifts away from the window.

In the next second, I support myself on the window frame, hopping across smoothly.

When Victor sees the faint footprints on the windowsill, he’s silent for a few seconds.

Victor: ...

Victor: Looks like you truly had sufficient rest. You’re full of energy.

MC: This is a special situation. Scholars in the ancient times would leap over walls to meet beautiful women. Today, I’m leaping over the window to bring you congee.

I retrieve the piping hot congee from the bag, placing it in front of Victor.

MC: For you. Have some supper before continuing work.

Victor lowers his head to look at the congee, the corners of his lips curling upwards indistinctly.

Victor: Is this what you called “catering to my tastes”?

MC: That’s right. So I hope CEO Victor would help me out tomorrow in preventing awkward silences.

Victor: It depends on your performance.

He picks up a spoon, stirring the slightly solidified surface of the congee slowly. The fragrance of rice makes my stomach grumble uncontrollably.

Smelling the fragrance, the calico cat circles our feet, meowing coquettishly.

MC: It seems hungry. The congee I ordered is pretty bland. Why don’t you share some with it?

Victor: Looks like it isn’t the only hungry one.

Victor gives me a meaningful glance, then splits the congee into three portions. The portion that he blows cool is placed in front of the kitten, and another is pushed in front of me.

Victor: After you’ve finished eating, go to bed.

MC: I didn’t even say that I wanted to eat...

I can’t help but mutter to myself while happily taking a spoon and sending a scoop of congee into my mouth.

Victor: The proportion of water and rice is wrong, it wasn’t cooked long enough, and it doesn’t bring out the taste of congee.

Hearing VIctor’s comments, I pause in my movements, then release a soft ‘hmph’.

MC: I wasn’t the one who cooked it, so your words don’t hurt me.

Ten minutes later, three completely clean bowls convey the greatest gratitude towards the chef’s hard work.

The satisfied calico cat has long since found a space on the carpet and rolled into a ball, snoring and sleeping soundly.

Victor: It’s also time for you to return and sleep.

MC: I still don’t feel like going back. I just had a nightmare, so I don’t feel drowsy at all. Why don’t I stay behind and accompany you while you work? I could wait for tomorrow’s sunrise too.

Victor: ...seems like you just want to use my room to watch the sunrise.

Seeing that he remains unmoved, I raise my hands, looking at him with a face filled with sincerity.

MC: I’ll definitely keep quiet throughout, and won’t disturb your work!

Victor doesn't say anything, returning to his documents. He seems to have tacitly allowed me to “run amok”.

I sit on a sofa chair at the side obediently, supporting my chin with a hand while sneaking peeks at him.

Beneath the warm lights, the side of his face seems to become much gentler. However, his slightly furrowed brows reveal a faint sharpness.

Rain patters down outside the window, a stark contrast to the tranquility within the house.

Looking at Victor’s figure, my eyelids grow heavier and heavier...

Victor suddenly senses a weight on his shoulder. He turns his head, only to see that the girl who claimed that she wasn’t drowsy is currently sound asleep, eyes shut tightly.

Victor: MC?

The girl wrinkles her nose, as though she’s having a beautiful dream, or feeling nostalgic for the delicious food from earlier.

He recalls the story written on the wooden signboards earlier in the evening about the kitten which taps on windows and sends gifts. A soft chuckle rises from his throat.

Along the horizon, a hazy ray of light sneaks in through the window in front of them.

🐈 Phone call: here

🐈 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor #HE'S SO SOFT

155 notes · View notes

kireimarkeu · 3 years

Text

Yellow; l.mk

+another repost, one of my favourite works ever. its unfortunate not many liked it... ;-; but im still gonna post it anyways. i did not make any changes to this fic.

summary: a journey where boxer!mark and you start to fall for each other.

5.8k words... it wasn’t supposed to be this long.. sorry guys ):

i changed the title because sunflower reminded me of johnny lmfao! also i know you guys don’t like long fics but istg i didn’t want it to be so long either ;;

warnings: mentions of blood & violence, f words

+Day 1

The loud cheers were really starting to annoy you. Why did you let your friend drag you here in the first place?

You let out a grumbled sigh when your friend had pulled your hand, leading you closer to the ring. Truthfully, you hated anything that has got to do with blood or violence. You didn’t dare tell your friend that since she told you that she has always wanted to go to an underground match.

People were pushing you around as you struggled to keep your balance. You hold onto your friend’s wrist, to avoid from falling.

Your friend must have noticed your discomfort and leaned towards you, “you okay?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “yeah... this- this is just not my type,”

She pouts, “do you want to leave?”

“No, no, you’ve been waiting for this, let’s just watch the match,” you reply, looking back to the ring. Your friend nodded, looking back front.

The match started within a few minutes, both participants standing on each side started getting closer, waiting for one of them to throw a punch.

“That’s Jung Jaehyun,” your friend says, pointing to the one who had chocolate abs. He had some parts of his black hair dyed a dark green, which really suits him.

Jaehyun.

He was handsome. Pretty face— really pretty face. However, his neck was filled with tattoos, which gets rid of his cute demeanour. You already knew he was the type to get lots of girls just by doing nothing.

“And that’s Mark Lee,”

Your eyes gazed on the boy with black hair.

Oh.

He’s cute. He’s really cute. Super cute features. Plump lips, cute cheeks— you just want to pinch. You were surprised why he would be in a ring with such adorable features. You wanted to coo at his ears, why are his ears so cute?

If you were to pick one, you would pick the latter. He’s just your type.

Great, you’re doing it again. Thinking which boys you would choose.

Shaking your thoughts away, you focus on the match.

Jaehyun suddenly throws a punch, to which Mark managed to dodge. Mark suddenly throws a punch, straight to the other boy’s cheekbones.

You let out a gasp, flinching at the sight. Though, the crowd continues to cheer.

In a blink of an eye, Jaehyun has Mark under him, his arm tightening around Mark’s neck.

“Isn’t that dangerous?!” you screech, turning to your friend who was happily watching the match.

“That’s what makes it fun,” your friend winks.

Your mouth was left wide open as you look back at Mark who was struggling to breathe. You notice Mark tapping on Jaehyun’s arm as the latter lets go of his crazy tight grip on the boy.

“This is crazy,” you whisper out.

Despite being absolutely terrified of the scene that had just happened, you wanted to see more.

After a few matches, it was declared Jaehyun had won this time’s match. You actually expected it- seeing how he was slightly more builded than Mark. At the same time, you were disappointed that Mark had lost the match.

The people around you started getting closer, excited by the first match. It was making it hard for you to breathe.

You tap your friend’s shoulder, “I am going to step out for a while,”

“Do you want me to follow?” she asks.

You shake your head, “no, enjoy the rest of the match,”

“Okay, text me if you need anything,” she tells you as you let out a hum and step away from the crowd. You climb the flight of stairs, pushing the tinted glass door open. You take a deep breathe, finally able to breathe fresh air.

You rest your back against the brick walls, fishing out your phone to reply to some texts and scroll through Instagram.

“Hey,”

“Oh, jeez!” you jumped, your hand pressed against your chest, turning to see Mark.

Mark laughs, staring at you in amusement, “weren’t you from inside? I saw you,”

You gulp and nodded, “yeah, yeah I was, I saw you too,”

You scan his features. He had multiple bruises and cuts on his cheekbones and lips. You notice a deep cut on his eyebrow, and a bruise on his neck. You look back up to his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, pointing to the bruises painting his face.

He chuckles at your question, wiping the blood staining his lips. “Your first time here?”

You nod, your head moving to scan the cuts on his face, “are you going to clean that up?”

“I’m okay,” he reassures you, a small smile playing on his lips, “this is nothing,”

You wince. That was nothing? You would be crying in pain if you had that many cuts and bruises on you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I’m Mark,” he says again, “what’s your name, pretty?”

Your face turned a crimson red, “y/n,”

“y/n,” he repeats, the name rolling out of his tongue smoothly, “beautiful name for a beautiful girl,”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, “how many times have you used that phrase, Mark?”

Mark was flustered for a moment, but quickly regain his coolness, “well, as of 3 seconds ago… once?”

He laughs when you grimace at his response, shaking your head in astonishment.

“So, what were you doing in an underground boxing, y/n?” he asks you, “you don’t seem like the type to be around this area,”

“My friend has been dying to come to an underground match and she dragged me with her,” you explain.

He hums, “ah, your friend? She really caught Jaehyun’s eye earlier,”

You smirk, knowing your friend definitely has been crushing on Jaehyun too.

“We should set them up!” you say excitedly.

+Day 15

2 weeks later, you were back at the same place. This time, you weren’t forced, you had begged your friend to bring you again. You would go alone but being alone in a place filled with rowdy men scares you. You knew your friend would agree since she wanted to see Jaehyun too.

“You usually don’t like this type of things, why are you suddenly so excited?” your friend asked, grabbing her bag, while you were tugging on her arm.

You bit your lip nervously, knowing the exact reason why, but you refuse to tell her.

***

“You’re back again,” says Mark, looking down at you with a smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, I just need some break from the chaos at school,” you explain. You were actually doing well in school. Unlike other students, you let out your stress from doing work and projects.

Mark hums as he looks around, “wanna go somewhere quieter?”

“But—” you turn away to find your friend, but she was nowhere to be found.

“She’s talking to Jaehyun,” Mark tells you.

You turn back around, holding your breathe when you see Mark leaning awfully close to your face. When he saw your flustered state, he started smirking, letting out a low chuckle.

“Come,” he says, tugging on your elbow, pulling you out of the crowd. Climbing the familiar stairs, the both of you walked towards an empty playground. The both of you take a seat on the swings.

“It’s kinda scary to be in a playground at night,” you state, looking around the extremely quiet area.

You hear Mark laugh at your statement; you look at him confusingly. “You know what you remind me of?”

You raise your eyebrows.

“A sunflower,” he tells you, making you blush. “Anything with the colour yellow,”

“And why is that Mark?”

He rests his head on the rope of the swings as he stares at you, “You seem like someone who is absolutely cheerful, everyone needs someone like you in their life,”

You smile at his sweet words.

Your eyes gaze on his hands that was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through them.

“Are your hands okay?” you ask, nodding your chin towards his hands resting on his lap.

He looks down at his hands then back at you, smirking, “why? Did I make you worry?”

You look at him like he was crazy, “of course you did! The guy went pretty hard on you,”

Mark felt embarrassed at that. You came to watch his match twice and he still couldn’t win in front of you.

He looks away from your gaze, “it was nothing,” he murmurs.

You were quiet for a while. You felt guilty for bringing it up, knowing he was already beating himself up for it.

“You did great,” you blurted out, “I came to support you actually,”

“Really?” he chuckles, his gaze still on his shoes.

“Yup, you did so well, I think I should take you out for lunch,” you blurt out without realising. Your eyes widen at what you had just said.

Oh god, why did you say that? Did you have no shame? What if Mark didn’t even feel the same way?

Mark swiftly turns to look at your confused face. Fuck, he just wanted to hug you so bad.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asks, an amused grin plastered on his lips.

Oh god.

You quickly face away from the boy who was staring at you with amusement. “N-no,”

He lets out a defeated sigh, “damn, really? I was hoping it would be a date,”

Oh fuck, he was smooth.

“Shouldn’t you be asking me out on a date?” you huff.

“Do you want me to ask you out on a date?”

“No! I mean—”

“Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

+Day 17

The date was originally scheduled in 5 days but Mark was too excited and had asked you to meet slightly earlier, to which you agreed.

This time, Mark wasn’t in a tank top and shorts, he didn’t have cuts on his face or bloody hands wrapped in bandages. He was dressed in a button up and black skinny jeans.

He’s so adorable.

“What,”

“What?” you look at him weirdly.

“You keep staring at me,” he points out, “do I have something on my face? Or am I too handsome?”

You grimace at his words and threw a fry at him, giggles leaving your lips.

Mark wanted to take you out on a proper expensive date, but he was also a broke college student— just like you. He felt bad about not being able to take you out on a proper date, but you had reassured him that you’d rather eat McDonalds kids meal than eat a $50 meal that is the size of a pea.

“You know,” you start, leaning back on the chair, “If I saw you for the first time, I wouldn’t believe it if you told me you were a boxer,”

“Why?”

You shrug, “you look like a baby to me,” you tell him, “just wanna pinch your cheeks,”

He scoffs, puffing out his chest, “I may look like a baby, but I fight like a man,”

+Day 23

Mark: hey are you coming later

You: where?

Mark: my match you loser

You: I don’t think so :(

You: i have a bunch of work to do :((

Mark: :(

Mark: oky then :/ make sure you rest enough

You: I will :) don’t worry haha

+Day 25

“I didn’t know Mark had many girl friends,” your friend says.

You raise your eyebrows at that. The both of you weren’t official yet, only at the talking stage. He has never mentioned his friends or his family, but the information had your suspicions growing.

You pretend to not be affected by the words, “how’d you know?”

“You know the day you couldn’t come for his match?” you hum, “I think he invited some girls because they were all hugging and talking,”

You would be lying if you weren’t heartbroken by your friend’s words. However, you have no rights stopping him from seeing his friends. The both of you weren’t a couple.

“Aren’t you guys a couple?”

“No,” you answer with a sharp tone, “it’s his life he can do whatever he wants.”

“You’re not fazed by it?”

“Why would I be?” you murmur, “he’s not mine to begin with.”

+Day 35

Mark: hey :)

Mark: it’s been a while

Mark: I miss you

You: I knw haha

Mark: are you coming for my match tomorrow night?

Mark: no no you have to come tomorrow!!

Mark: ok?

You: hahahah

You: I will oky

You: im finished with my work & all so why not haha

You: but I need you to come get me hehe

You: my friend wont be following so its just me :3

Mark: that’s great!!!

Mark: I’ll send u home too ok

You: oky Markie :3

+Day 36

You had your hands resting on Mark’s face, cleaning up his bloody face. Mark had lost this time round; his opponent was three times your size and had beat Mark down like a pipe.

“I don’t even know why I support you doing this,” you mumble, wiping the blood running down his face, “you make me worry too much,”

“I’m okay.”

You glare up at him. “If you think this is okay then I don’t what’s your definition of the opposite.”

He frowns at you but didn’t say a word.

It took you a good 30 minutes to clean up all of his wounds. You lean away from him, “make sure you rest for a week,”

He hums, staring at you, “thank you,”

You felt bad for being so harsh on him. You reach for his hands, holding it in yours, your thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“Can you take me home now? I’m tired,” you sigh.

Throughout the ride home, you had one of Mark’s hand resting on your lap. You didn’t let go for a second, loving the warm feeling of his hand clasped in yours. Before you knew it, his car stopped infront of your apartment building.

You pout, turning to face him., “I don’t wanna leave yet,”

“Me neither,” he chuckles, “don’t go,”

You lips break into a grin, “you loser,”

He hums.

You unlock the door, ready to open the car door but Marks tug on your hands. You face him. He lifts his free hands, his pointer finger tapping on his cheek.

You snicker at his actions, your pointer and middle finger pushing his cheek away. You stick your tongue out when he pouts at you. You open the car door and left the car, shutting it, turning to face the boy who was still pouting.

“Thanks for today,” you say, “make sure you rest for a week before you start working again,” you reminded him.

Upset that you didn’t kiss him, Mark clicked his tongue and gestured for you to go in.

+Day 40

Your eyebrows furrow when you saw the pictures Mark was tagged in Jaehyun’s photo. You knew this photo was recent from the evident bruises on Mark’s face.

You had already warned him to completely heal for a week before going back to work but why was he so stubborn?

The girls who was surrounding the guy you like didn’t go unnoticed by you. You noticed how he had his arms snake around both girl’s waist.

Shutting your eyes close, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Is this from today?” you ask your friend, showing her your phone.

Your friend takes a look and nods without hesitation.

A loud and angry groan left your lips. Getting up from the couch, you stomped to your bedroom, shutting the door as you climbed in bed.

God, why was liking a boy so hard?

Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so frustrated with Mark. You liked him so much that you hated seeing him being hurt— even if it was something he loves doing.

It wasn’t the first time he was seen surrounded by girls. Although the both of you weren’t in an official relationship, you didn’t enjoy seeing him touching girls. Maybe you were being dramatic with the girls, but did you really want to date someone like him? Someone who could potentially be taken away in a flash?

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a deep sigh. Everyone deserves a chance, even if he had hurt you.

You turn on your phone to send Mark a text.

You: you went to work today?

It took him less than a minute to respond.

Mark: how’d you know?

You: jaehyun’s Instagram

You: I thought I told you to rest?

Mark: sorry :( it was just a last minute match

You: hm

Mark: but on the bright side, I won this time!

Right. Of course he would win the match when you’re not there to support him.

You: was it fun?

Mark: yeah! Our friends came to support us

You: ohh who?

Mark: just some ex-school friends, you don’t know them haha

You: okay hha

Mark: you’re not angr right? Haha

Mark: angry*

You: no why would I be

You: you’re not my boyfriend so I have no right to be

You: mad

+Day 58

“Hey,” Mark sends you a bitter smile, “you okay? Been a whole year since we last saw each other,”

“It’s been 2 weeks, Mark,” you reply dryly.

Mark pouts and takes a seat next to you, “two weeks too long~”

He leans his head on your shoulder as his gaze on your phone. You turn to him slightly, offering your bubble tea to the male who happily accepts. He rests his hand on the plastic cup and your hand holding the cup, pulling it towards his lips.

You giggle, “you’re so cute, Mark.”

He squints his eyes cutely at you as he continues sipping on your drink. You didn’t complain, you love seeing him all happy.

You clear your throat, earning his attention, “I want to ask you something,”

He tilts his chin upwards, “what’s up?”

You try to think of a way to phrase your words together without sounding possessive.

Mark notices your furrowed eyebrows, he cracks a grin and nudges you with his shoulder, “don’t be so serious, what’s up?”

“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” you blurted out.

Mark fell silent at your question. He wasn’t annoyed or anything— not at all, he couldn’t ever be mad at you. But it was just so sudden, where was this all coming from?

“I mean- you don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” you explain, “it’s not like I want to,” you laugh awkwardly, looking away from the male.

“N-no,” he stutters out, “it was just so sudden, where is this coming from?”

“I’m sorry,”

“Do you want to meet my friends?” he asks.

“I’m not forcing you,” you state, “it’s just a question- it’s not important,” you mumble the last part.

He let out a chuckle, “I want you to meet my friends,” he says, “but, they just…”

You purse your lips, already expecting the answer. Of course he won’t introduce you to his female friends. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t disappointed, but you couldn’t do anything. you can’t force him into doing something he doesn’t want to.

“I’m sorry,” he sounded sincere, too sincere. It’s weird.

You feign a smile, “It’s okay, but I have to go now,”

He frowns, watching you stand up to grab your bag, “already?”

You nod, “I’ll see you when I see you, I guess,”

Before he could even hug you goodbye, you had already left the bubble tea shop.

+Day 62

You had this habit of overworking yourself whenever you were down. You had drowned yourself in projects and work. The incident that happened a few days ago has left your mind, especially when he hasn’t sent you a single text.

“Hey,” your friend called, you hum in response, although your gaze was still glued on your laptop. “Have you been talking to Mark lately?”

Your fingers freeze at his name. Suddenly you were furious just by hearing his name.

“Why?” you reply crudely.

“He’s been asking me about you. Did something happen?” your friend asks, worried about you.

He’s been asking about you? So he has been thinking about you this whole time? Your heart fluttered a little at the thought. You genuinely liked Mark and it sucked that the both of you were already having arguments even before being a couple.

You bit your lip, turning around to look at your friend, “what did he say?”

Your friend passes you her phone, showing the text message between the two.

Mark: hey, im sorry if im disturbing you but

Mark: is y/n okay?

Mark: we haven’t been texting lately and I thought she needed space so i gave her that

Mark: I just want to know if she’s okay? If shes eating healthily?

Your lips tugged upwards at the text. God, he was so cute. You scroll down a little more to read more texts.

Mark: could you update me everyday on how she’s doing?

Mark: I miss her :/

“He really likes you, you know,” your friend says abruptly.

You pass her phone back, looking up at her.

“I know I’m not officially his and I have no right on stopping him who he should hang out with,” you explain, “but it upsets me seeing how he’s being surrounded by girls every single night,”

Your friend places her hand on your shoulder, her thumb caressing your shoulder comfortingly, “you should talk to him about it.”

She was right. Communication is key. You can’t keep it a secret forever. If it upsets you, then you should voice out.

You were going to talk to him about it.

+Day 67

You were at the underground boxing area again. Mark had texted you to come and support him. You were going to talk to him about it today. After his match. This was the only way that was going to make you feel better.

This time, you were standing near the wall, furthest from the boxing ring. Mark had warned you to stay here because of all the rowdy men crowding the area.

“With your petite size, you are just going to be stepped on,” he had said.

You locked eyes with Mark who was standing in the ring. You automatically grin at him. Mark struggled to keep a straight face after seeing your adorable smile.

‘Good luck!’ you mouth, lifting your hands to show a thumbs up, then sending a heart to the male.

Mark’s heart flutter just by looking at you. He looks away to keep a straight face. Soon, the match started.

“Hi,”

You swiftly turned to see a handsome male standing next to you. You send him a polite smile before turning back to look at Mark.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’m just here to support a friend,” you say plainly, your eyes gazing on Mark intently.

“I see,” the man says, “I’m Yuta,”

Does he ever stop talking? You hum, hoping it would stop him from talking to you.

“What’s your name?”

You wanted to roll your eyes at his question. You face the man, “I’m y/n,”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he flirts, winking at you. You grimace at his words. “You’re really pretty,”

You didn’t respond, irked by his presence.

“Do you hate talking or something?” he asks you. He rolls his eyes when you didn’t reply. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t, Yuta,” you sigh.

“Then? Do you hate me or something? Do you hate someone you’ve never met?” he asks you, leaning closer to you.

Unbeknownst to you, Mark saw you talking to the male and was distracted by it, which resulted in him getting punched in the jaw by his opponent.

Loud gasps and whistles filled the room.

You quickly turn to see Mark laying on the ground, getting stepped on by his opponent. Your hands went up to your mouth, watching in horror. Once his opponent was pulled away, you ran to find Mark, but was stopped by Yuta grasping your arm.

“Let go of me!” you shrieked, pushing his arm away, running to find Mark.

You see Mark in the room, holding his jaw painfully while Jaehyun helped him bandage his hand.

“Mark!” you call, running up to him. You instantly hold onto his elbow, scanning his face that was littered with bruises. He had a black eye too.

Mark meets your worried gaze. His eyes held something different— anger and annoyance.

“Are you okay? Are you badly hurt anywhere?” you ask.

The male suddenly pushes your grip off him, looking away from you. Your eyes widen at his actions.

Did you do something wrong?

You look at Jaehyun, hoping he would signal you something— anything. But he only looked away from you guiltily. You frown at the both of them.

“Mark?” he ignores your voice.

You felt your heart clench painfully. You didn’t know what you did wrong for him to treat you this way. A disappointed sigh left your lips as you turn around, leaving the underground boxing match.

You rest your back against the brick walls, you felt tears trail down your cheeks. You came here with Mark and was expecting him to drive you home, so you didn’t bring any money with you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your fingers wiping the stray tears.

You fish out your phone, unlocking it but only to see a black screen. You harshly pressed on the button multiple times but it wouldn’t turn on. Great, your phone must’ve died. You look around, trying to find someone who could help you out.

“Are you going to get in?” a deep voice says.

You look up to see Mark standing next to his car.

+++++

A shaky sigh left your lips, brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop leaving your eyes. You look out the window, hoping it would distract you. Another tear rolled down your cheeks.

“Stop crying,” Mark murmurs.

You wanted to scoff at that. How ironic, especially when he was the one who made you cry.

“I’m fucking trying,” you say through gritted teeth.

The car comes to a halt as you see your apartment building outside. However, you didn’t leave his car.

“Did I do something?” you ask. You have been dying to ask the question ever since.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t know y/n, did you?” he responds sarcastically.

“Can you stop that?!” you shout, turning your body to face him, “Just tell me what I did so I can fucking apologize!”

He scoffs at your words, “who was that man? Openly flirting while I was in a match?”

Your brows knit in confusion. Is he being serious?

“Firstly, I don’t know who the hell that man was, and I was definitely not flirting with him,” you explain, “and secondly, you’re not my boyfriend. So, even if I wanted to flirt, I am allowed to.”

This relationship was starting to get confusing.

“We are in the talking stage!” he shouts, “technically you are mine.”

You laugh at that, “really? I can’t flirt with anyone but you’re out here hugging and touching random girls!”

He becomes quiet, looking away from your intense gaze.

You push your hair back, frustrated. “what now, Mark?”

He looks down at his lap, playing with his fingers. He felt like crying— he never cries. “I don’t think this is working out,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I think we should stop seeing each other,”

You feel your lips tremble, tears threatening to fall again. You close your eyes, the tears falling down your cheeks. Your hands clenched into fists, hoping it would stop you from letting out sobs.

“Okay,” you mutter, “I’m going to go,”

When you reached your apartment, your hand immediately rests on the wall, steadying your balance. You couldn’t even breathe properly as you let out loud sobs. Your heart was beating rapidly from your unsteady breathing.

You felt like you were going to die. You didn’t expect this to hurt so much.

You are going to get through this. You will get through this.

+Day 83

It has been a few weeks since you had last seen Mark. You had spent most of your time in your room crying your eyes out. If it wasn’t that, you would be sobbing on the couch while your friend would try her best to comfort you.

You didn’t have the energy or appetite to eat. Your friend always made you drink lots of water and would sometimes make a sandwich for you.

Your friend had secretly sent text updates to Mark, but he would just ignore them. He was hurting as much as you were. Just by hearing your name, his heart would clench painfully. Mark had spent most of his time at the ring, taking out his frustration by throwing punches and kicks.

You were washing the dishes since your friend had left to support Jaehyun in the underground match. She had invited you to come with her, but you’d rather stay home, knowing Mark would probably be there.

Your phone started ringing. You let out an annoyed sigh, quickly putting the plate on the rack, then walking over to grab your phone. You answer the call.

“What?” you sigh, “I’m busy cleaning, you know?”

“y/n,” your friend breathes heavily. This was weird. “Can you come here?”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion, “what? Why? What happened?”

“Mark passed out,” she tells you.

Your eyes widen, “w-what?”

“He’s going to be sent to the hospital, you need to come, now,”

+++++

“What room is he in? Is he okay?” you ask, looking at your friend and Jaehyun with wary eyes.

“He’s okay,” Jaehyun says, “he’s in the room,” he nods towards the door.

You had tears threatening to leave your eyes. You couldn’t help but let the tears fall. You felt your body grow weak, you squat down, covering your face with your arms as you let out loud sobs.

It was all your fault. If you hadn’t taken care of him more often, none of this would’ve happened.

Your friend frowns at your state. She bends down and pat your back comfortingly. “Go in,” she persuades, “he has been dying to see you,”

You lift your head to look at her, a small pout on your lips. Your friend wipes your tears with her thumb, smiling at you.

Letting out a soft sigh, you stand up, smoothing your hair and your pants. Walking towards the door, you knock softly before sliding the door open. Mark tilts his head, seeing you walk in quietly with your lips pursed.

He didn’t know what to do. Should he send you a smile? Should he act cold?

When you got closer to him, you scan the state he was in. He had his forehead bandage and his arm in a cast. His lips were busted, a plaster on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey,” you say, voice still raspy from the crying earlier, “what happened?”

He clears his throat and looks away from you. He feels bad making you worried. But at the same time, he didn’t expect you to be here.

“Just a few bruises here and there,” he says.

“Mark.”

“It’s nothing, really!” he exclaims.

You glare at him, “fuck you,” you spit. “I came down here because everyone was so worried about you. I was so worried about you. And now that I’m here, you’re going to tell me it’s nothing?”

Mark was unbelievable. God, why do you like him so much?

His eyes soften at your words. He bit his lip nervously, intimidated by you, he slowly looks up at you, “I just don’t want to worry you,”

You scoff, “your job already worries me, Mark.”

He pouts without even realising. He looks down at his lap guiltily, playing with his fingers.

You felt bad for shouting at him. Letting out a huff, you amble closer.

“You’re okay now, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his gaze glued on his lap.

A pregnant silence fills you two, unsure of what to say to each other. You didn’t want to leave, and Mark doesn’t want you to leave. You bit your lips awkwardly as you look everywhere but Mark.

“I think I’ll leave now,” you say, “I have work to do and I don’t want to… disturb you,”

You stare at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. disappointment fills you when Mark looks away from your gaze. You turn around, ready to leave the room when Mark calls your name.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, “that day,”

You stop in your tracks, your back facing him. Your grip tightens on your sweatpants.

“Mean what?” you repeat, “you suggested it, Mark,”

“I know,” he breathes, “I regret it,”

You missed Mark. You missed his dumb jokes and his annoying laughter which you loved so much. You turn around to look at him.

“I don’t like seeing you this way, Mark,” you confess, “your job scares me, it worries me,”

“What can I do to make you not worry, y/n?” he asks, eyes widening, “should I stop doing it?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you reply harshly, “if you would actually let me stay by your side, it might ease my worries,”

You step closer to the boy, your hand resting on his cheek. He subconsciously lean against your soft hand.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day,” he professes, “I..I didn’t mean what I said,”

You take a seat on the chair that was next to his bed, holding onto his hands tightly. “Then, why would you say that Mark?”

“I just—“ he sighs, “I just didn’t want to lose you to someone else, y/n,” he explains, looking up at you, “we weren’t even dating yet! I just knew that I genuinely like you.”

Your heart clench at his words. “I didn’t like seeing you with other girls either,”

“I know,” he huffs, his free hand going up to ruffle his mop of black hair, “I was just stupid,”

Your thumb strokes his hand comfortingly, “It’s okay. It’s all over now,”

“I don’t want to deal with this anymore,” he tells you, “all this, jealousy and possessiveness.”

Is he going to…?

“I have been dying to ask you this question for the longest time,” he continues, “would you like to be my girlfriend?”

507 notes · View notes

jinmukangwrites · 3 years

Text

@damianwayneweek Day 4 (6-16): Reverse batfamily | Hugs | Soulmate

Warnings: Canon typical violence, major injuries, background character death, ✨angst✨

Note: this one ran away from me. It got a mind of its own. If I had more time, this would be so much longer. I've always wanted to write a reverse batfam story with Damian's perspective. Please enjoy.

---

Damian has only spent a month living with his blood father, and he's felt nothing but miserable this entire time. Somehow, life has managed to become even more stressful and exhausting compared to living within the League of Assassins. He... understands why his mother felt he'd be safer here for the time being, but at least, back in Nanda Parbat he knew what he was doing and what the rules were.

He's not sure where he stands with his father. It's obvious that his father doesn't know where he stands with Damian either. Damian, his entire life, had grown up with the knowledge of Bruce Wayne being his father. Batman. Caped Crusader of Gotham. Hero. Bringer of Justice. His mother's dearest, most precious love after Damian himself. She spoke often of him. Highly. Only when alone and no one else to hear them. His father isn't exactly on high standings with his grandfather nor other high ranking members of the League.

Yet, his father knew nothing of him until the day they met. His mother brought him to the streets of Gotham, lured Batman to their location, and introduced them there. His father seemed visibly shocked under that cowl at the information of having a son, yet he didn't question it.

Damian didn't know what to expect after his mother left him for his own safety. He didn't know all too much about culture outside of the League. He was, of course, taught the basics to blend in with American society—as well as other countries—if the need so came, but other than that... He didn't know what to do with himself when he first stepped in the manor to find only one servant and a new home empty of anything to fill his time. The cave where his father operates was locked to him from the get-go.

His father doesn't seem to trust him. He explained the situation to the servant, and then sent Damian off with the servant to find a room with the warning that if Damian "did anything", he'd regret it.

Damian's hardly seen his father since. When he's not working as a CEO, he's out as Batman, and Damian sits in the manor all day and night running out of ways to keep himself entertained.

Sometimes he sees his father at supper, but he doesn't ever start any conversation. Damian doesn't start any either, thinking it's purposeful. He doesn't ask about Damian's stay, or if he's comfortable here, or anything. He doesn't update Damian on any new information about his mother and the league. The only words he speaks to Damian are gruff good nights.

Miserable. It's miserable. He doesn't understand why his mother is so in love with such a miserable man for company.

He doesn't speak up on it, however. If his father is anything like his teachers or his grandfather, questioning him or speaking out of turn will just get him in trouble. He'd like to keep his stay at a tolerable level of misery, thank you very much.

So he doesn't say anything to his father, even though he's itching to go out with him at night to... to do whatever he does. He's seen the television, Superman has a kid fighting with him in Metropolis. Why can't Damian do the same with his father as well? He can wear a mask and change his name. He can easily defend himself, even against this country's love for guns.

He still doesn't say anything, and he spends the days miserable.

-o-o-o-o-

It's the butler, Alfred as he has insisted many times during his stay (Damian humors him by calling him by his first name, being as he's the only one to speak to Damian in this drab house), who suggests school a few months after coming here.

"School," his father says blankly, looking at Alfred like he's lost his mind.

"He's a young, growing boy," Alfred says. "It's not good for the lad to be inside all day like this."

Damian sits at the dining table, stiff like he's stepped on a landmine and is now waiting for it to explode. However, he can't help but look up at his father through his lowered eyebrows to meet his sharp gaze. School... doesn't sound like something that would be any fun, but... but anything to get out of this manor sounds almost heavenly.

His hopes fall when his father shakes his head. "No. It's too dangerous."

And something inside Damian snaps just a little. "Dangerous for who?" He demands, slamming his hands on the table. "For me? Or for the other children?"

His father looks stunned, and Damian's stomach drops as Alfred's eyes widen as well.

He's running out of the dining room before anything else can be said.

He's messed up. He's definitely, royally, messed up.

-o-o-o-o-

Punishment for yelling at his father doesn't come like he expects it to. A week goes by, and there's not a single word of his outburst.

It sets him on edge. It fries his nerves. It makes him jumpy and paranoid and frightened at every shadow.

So much so that he finally decides, one day, to pull the sword hanging above the library entrance off the wall and practice with it. It's heavier than what he's used to back in Nanda Parbat. British history is in the shape of the blade, but he still wields it and practices rusty moves on it until he's sweating in the middle of the library. Usually training makes him feel better, but the more time that passes, the more frustrated he gets.

He gets so frustrated that he imagines enemies surrounding him. He imagines the warmth of blood splattering against his skin as he swings. The taste as it touches his tongue. Their screams of death. He gets so deep in this trance that he doesn't notice he's broken something until the sound of crashing glass reaches his ears; he's swung right through a glass display case, the unprotected remains of a signed classic novel resting inside.

His heart jumps when the door opens to see what the commotion is about, and he drops the sword like it's hot when Alfred is the one to poke his head through.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Alfred gives him a long look, and then he sighs. "Come fetch the broom with me, and we can clean this up."

"Will you tell father?" Damian asks slowly. He can tell it's a loaded question when Alfred pauses and purses his lips.

"Not this time," he says finally, after a few heartbeats. "But I do think it's time I speak with him about some other things. Come along, the quicker we clean this up, the quicker I can get you a cup of tea to stop you from looking like a frightened racoon."

-o-o-o-o-

A few days pass, and his father invites him to follow after dinner. Out of everything Damian expects to come from this, being led into the batcave through a grandfather clock in the study wasn't one of them.

"You can train here," his father said, showing him a massive room in the cave filled to the brim with practice tools of all kinds. Dulled swords, throwing stars, bo-staffs, and straw dummies to name a few. There's locked cases on the far side of the training room, of which Damian suspects are full of much more sharp, dangerous, and fun tools.

No matter. He's already feeling his blood shake with excitement at the thought of finally getting some proper practices again.

"You can come down here only when myself or Alfred are here to supervise you," his father explains. "Nothing here leaves this room, and if anything breaks you tell us immediately."

"Can I start now?" Damian asks, barely managing to hold himself back from running towards the closest, one-handed blade.

His father, surprisingly, nods. "I'm going out, and Alfred will be down to help me with the computer. He will be in charge."

Damian can't stop himself from smiling. Finally there's something to do in this house. Feeling hopeful, he decides to ask one more question.

"Can I go with you? One day?"

Silence is his answer for a few heartbeats, making Damian suddenly fearful that he shouldn't have asked that. Then, his father sighs.

"We will see."

-o-o-o-o-

A few more days pass before they do see. He suspects Alfred must have had another conversation with his father, because he approaches him one night and offers to spar.

It's done in full concentration, not a single word exchanged between the two. Both are too busy studying the other's fighting patterns to say anything.

It's now that Damian realizes what his mother meant whenever she spoke about his father's advanced martial arts. It's brutal and expertly executed. It's only a matter of time before he's pinned. He's disappointed in himself, but not surprised to end up losing.

But not all is lost. He can tell his father is impressed when he releases his pin and tosses Damian a rag to wipe off his sweat.

"We need to talk to Alfred about getting you a suit."

-o-o-o-o-

The suit Alfred makes him is made of the strongest, thinnest material Damian had ever seen. It cannot only be Kevlar, because it would be heavier than this. It must have been created by his father himself, or one of his associates.

Whatever the case, he's in awe by it. Alfred is a master of every craft, it seems. He's managed to create the suit to Damian's submitted designs to the T, only making subtle changes here and there where sketches don't match up with reality.

It's mostly black, because according to his father white isn't a good color to go with in Gotham. It's understandable, as much as Damian dislikes it. He's always liked wearing whites and tans for his outfits, accenting here and there with greens and blues to bring out his eyes. Black is such a boring and dull color, but this, he supposes, he will have to deal with.

And it's not all black, at the least. Just the bits around his shoulders, cape, hood, sides, and legs. On his chest, however, is a splash of dark maroon, as well his boots and gloves. His belt is yellow, like his father's, and filled only with smoke pellets, a grappling gun, and a hanging pair of sticks that triple as escrima, a bo-staff, and nun-chucks. Not his preferred weapon, but his father doesn't seem to be very trustful with him and sharp ones yet.

He goes out into the city, out of the manor, for the first time in what feels like forever. His father keeps a sharp eye on him, reminding him every two seconds to not kill anyone, but Damian doesn't mind too much.

He's just happy to be out, and to finally get glimpses of what his father is truly like outside of the stories of his mother and the silent dinners.

He's ruthless, but not heartless. Strong, but not abusive. He prioritizes justice, above all else, and teaches Damian that even the criminals deserve it. The victims get saved, and his father leaves the criminals to be picked up by the cops to be brought to rehabilitation or wherever else they must go.

Damian's careful to remember these teachings, even though he doesn't understand them. He's been raised to think the only thing bad people deserved was punishment, but after taking down a bank robbery, his father researches the names of the robbers and finds that the bank keeper was blackmailing them to give him money on top of the loans they already had with the bank.

The bank keeper was trying to pay off the gangs to protect the bank from other gangs.

So on and so forth.

Gotham seems to be a big cycle of abuse, with no one willing to end it.

Well, no one besides his father.

It doesn't make sense to Damian why his father would try so hard to stop it, but he can at least respect it.

For now.

-o-o-o-o-

Everything goes almost fine until it doesn't.

For the first time in almost half a year, Damian finds himself separated from his father and Alfred. There's a new big bad in Gotham, a man with half of his face burned off by acid. Two-Face, he calls himself. Harvey Dent, his father informed before he left Damian behind to fight him alone.

"This is personal," he said.

And Damian didn't listen. He wanted to see what a real fight was like in Gotham. These petty bank robberies and classic muggings were getting boring and repetitive. He didn't mean to get so close.

His father was in a standoff with Two-Face, and on a stroke of bad luck one of the goons spotted him watching.

"It's Red Bird!" Shouted the goon. Red Bird is the name Gotham had started to call him by in the papers.

A group of the goons charged after him, the rest kept by Two-Face and his father, sneering as they separated his father from helping with their guns and a baby hostage.

And maybe it was seeing the child in Two-Face's arms that made him see red. Maybe it was the disappointment in himself for being spotted. Maybe it was simply all the pent up frustration that's been building without his knowledge since he's gotten here.

Whatever the case, he fought back a little harder than he meant to. What he was supposed to. He brought most of the goons down to the ground, clutching broken bones and bloodied gashes. His old training kicks in, and he goes to hit one of his opponents in a specific place that would kill them.

"RED BIRD!" His father shouts angrily over the commotion.

And Damian stumbles, stopping in his kill-path. His father sounds disappointed and upset and- and Damian almost disobeyed his orders and his father saw it immediately.

Then, before he can be fearful or horrified or confused, his own skull is hit hard enough that the world fades to black.

He wakes up with his arms tied behind his back and his entire person disarmed. His father stands at a makeshift pair of gallows, another man besides him. Both are hooded.

Two-Face flips his coin and asks Damian heads or tails. He says tails, and saves his father, but the other man hangs.

Then, Two-Face beats Damian with a bat, to the point he can't see straight, and the pain drags him back into unconsciousness. The last thought he has is that he's failed. He's disappointed his father, and he must have disappointed his mother as well if she hasn't come back for him yet.

He's failed.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes in the batcave's med-bay, his entire body numb. He can only lay there with a tube running up his nose and needles in his arm, listening to the machine besides him voice his heartbeat. Vacantly, he can hear arguing voices outside his door, one of a woman he doesn't recognize and the other of his father.

He closes his eyes when the arguing gets too loud, but opens them sometime later when it stops and someone enters the room.

His father stands in the doorway, his face looking more raw and vulnerable than Damian's ever seen it.

"I thought I lost you," is all he says before he runs to the cot and grabs Damian's hand. The one not in a sling, he realizes. He's so numb he didn't even notice he had so many bandages and casts on him.

Not that he focuses on that for long. In fact, all he can focus on is that his father is clutching his hand like a lifeline and whispering over and over how sorry he is.

"I should have been better," his father rambles. "You're not like Jon, you don't have powers. I'm so stupid for letting you out there- I almost got you killed- your mother is going to murder me-"

Damian doesn't even know what to say. He's so flabbergasted by the actions of his father, that he just lays there as his father continues.

"I knew I wasn't cut out for this. I'm not even in my thirties, and I'm a dad. I tried my best to keep you safe, make sure you didn't get yourself into danger- and I fucked it all up. I don't know what I'm doing, Dami. I don't know- I'm sorry-"

And this continues for a little while longer until the door opens again, revealing Alfred and the woman who must have been yelling at his father before. She has gray hair, curled up like a loose afro around her head, revealing her old age. Behind her glasses, her eyes are sad. Together, Alfred and the woman approach the bed, and the woman lays her hand on his father's shoulder.

"We need to check his bandages," she says.

His father nods, wiping quickly under his eyes before he stands up. She gives Alfred a look before she leads Bruce out.

It's only Alfred and Damian for a moment, and Damian releases a breath.

"He's not going to let me out again."

Silence.

Then Alfred comes to his side and looks at the bandages. "I will talk with him. First, let's get you healed up and properly introduce you to Miss Thompkins."

-o-o-o-o-

Red Bird does go out again, once he's healed up. Alfred's talks with his father do wonders, it seems, as life at the manor has gone back to lonely and miserable—what with his father avoiding him at every chance. But he goes out again, swinging into the night with his father silently beside him having just finished retelling him every rule he must follow.

Damian intends to follow them. He doesn't want to lose this. He's come so close to losing this.

He hopes... That maybe... If he follows the rules... Things will start getting better again.

They fight crime like normal, going their normal routes and working silently by each other. By the time it's time to go home, Damian's feeling more alive than he has since Two-Face beat him with the bat.

Before they can return to the manor, however, a familiar signal is lit in the sky by the police department. His father stills and Damian watches him carefully. His father has been careful to keep him out of the business that comes with that signal, even before Two-Face.

His father sighs, then gives Damian a hard look through his cowl.

"Behave," is all he says before they're on their way to the police station.

There's a man on the roof. Commissioner Jim Gordon. He gives his father a greeting, then pauses when Damian steps out besides him.

"Decided to finally introduce us?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "Just when I thought Red Bird was off the streets for good."

Damian bristles, but his father sighs. "What do you need, Commissioner?"

"Apparently a college teacher went insane and poisoned his students with a gas that made them see their deepest fears. Professor Jonathan Crane. It sounds like something you'd handle quicker, and I can get you the files we have on him after you explain to me why you're still letting a child run around in tights. Especially after you told me he was quote un-quote, 'alive but out of commission'."

"I don't see why it's your business," Damian hisses before he can stop himself.

"Red Bird," Batman scolds, and Damian falls quiet.

His father looks at the Commissioner with a hard look. "He's my responsibility, and I will look after him."

"There were rumors he died, Batman," Gordon argues back. "Two-Face bragged about it all the way to Arkham. He had blood on his face."

His father stiffens his jaw, then says through gritted teeth. "I will never allow something like that to happen ever again. If you want my word, I will give it in saying if anyone like Two-Face tries to hurt him like that again, I will make sure they regret the thought before it can happen. Red Bird will continue to be with me where I can watch him, and you will respect that. Trust me, it's safer for all of us this way."

He looks down at Damian, then almost smiles.

"He will sneak out himself anyways, eventually. Or I won't hear the end of it from a mutual acquaintance."

Damian finds himself smiling back. It seems getting on the good side of Alfred was a good decision on his part. And he's right in the former statement as well. Damian is sure he'd eventually get bored enough of being left behind and go out to prove himself without permission. Red Bird... It's too good to give up. He can't lose it.

It's like a staring contest between Gordon and his father for what feels like an entire minute, but eventually Gordon gives up with a sigh.

"Don't know how you do it. The wife's starting to talk about having a kid... I can't imagine a little one of mine running around doing the things I do, let alone what you do."

He brings a cigarette to his mouth, then pulls out a file with his free hand. "Take the case."

Batman steps up to do as was told, but before Gordon let's go, he gives his father a hard look.

"You better keep your word," he growls, "because if anything happens again to that kid, I'm holding you responsible and I'll bring you in for child endangerment myself."

Batman nods. "I'm counting on it."

-o-o-o-o-

Eventually, the topic of school comes up again.

Which of course brings up the topic that no one actually knows about Bruce Wayne's son. Damian's been kept a secret this entire time, unknown to the public.

"We'll tell them that your mother and I met at the end of highschool, and we have kept you a secret ever since. Due to your mother's weakening health, we decided it would be best for your future to have your custody turned over to me and the mother wishes to remain private. Then, we can-"

"Wait," Damian interrupts. "You're going to let me go to school?"

His father pauses in his verbal plans, then nods.

And suddenly, Damians jumping from his chair with joy, wrapping his arms around his father's neck without thinking about it. However, the second he realizes his action, he attempts to scramble away with horror. He's never hugged his father before. But things have been so good, civil even, to the point where they can be in the same room and have conversations about the weather or the recent sports game or even about a new cartoon Damian found on TV.

But they never hugged.

Afraid he's pressed boundaries, he pushes away, but he doesn't go far before a hand wraps around his shoulder. Damians left halfway on his father's lap where he sits, looking at him with anxiety churning in his stomach and an unreadable expression on his father's face.

Then, gently, Damian's pulled back in so now arms are wrapping around his back. His father's hugs are soft and warm, Damians learns. The opposite of how he fights. Yet he feels so safe and protected that he doesn't resist the action.

"This is really happening," his father says in a whisper. "I have a son. I'm really a dad now. I... I promise I will be better for you. From now on. I'm sorry for how I treated you... In the beginning. I was scared. It's no excuse, but I promise you, I will be better."

And he is. They get ice cream after and then watch a movie before going out as Batman and Red Bird.

Time passes so Damian starts school and makes friends. He meets Clark Kent and his son, Jon, and makes a best friend. He grows older, and happier, to the point he no longer misses the League of Assassins. To the point when his mother does finally return to see him, saying the danger has passed...

Damian tells her he wishes to stay with his father. She smiles, and hugs him, and says that she's proud of him. She promises to visit him as often as she can after they share a good cry.

She leaves, and visits, and time moves on a little more.

Until one day, years later, they notice a kid with a camera following them around and taking pictures. Then, the same kid admits to knowing about their civilian identities when confronted.

His father searches the kid up when they get back to the manor, and after some digging it's revealed his name is Tim Drake and his parents are neglectful and strict.

Damian sees the same look in his father's eyes as when he first told the public he had a son named Damian Wayne, and he gets the feeling the manor is about to get a little more crowded.

This, he thinks, is about to get interesting. It's been awhile since life threw a curve ball. He just didn't expect this one to come in the form of a little brother.

And life goes on.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #robin #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #reverse robins #jin writes #fanfiction #violence tw #injuries tw #death mention tw

147 notes · View notes

paellaplease · 3 years

Note

HAII!! if it hasnt been done yet, could you do revali x reader with basorexia? maybe reader really wants to give him a kiss but she really cant since,, yknow she has lips and he has a fuckin beak so she just decides to give him a lil smooch on the cheek? idk that was just an idea i had in mind, u dont have to write it!

22. basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss.

pairing: revali x reader summary: revali spirits you away to enjoy the new years eve festivities.

In the darkness of your room, you awoke to the sound of a soft tapping on your window. Twisting in the mess of blankets and pillows, you pushed aside the papers and textbooks that had accumulated at the foot of the bed, noticing only then that the candle at your desk had long since extinguished.

Head pounding, you rubbed at your tired eyes, feeling heavy. How long had you been asleep?

The tapping grew more insistent, forcing you to get up. Grumbling, you allowed yourself a second to stretch, ignoring how your room felt like water sloshing in a glass.

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on!" You said, hobbling to the window. Brushing the mess of hair from your eyes, you pulled the curtains away and roughly pushed it open.

The culprit hovered outside, eyes bright and smug. Revali looked very much at home though he was floating at a dizzying distance away from the ground. In the sleepy haze, he looked like a painting of some myth you had read before, with the late night sky as his backdrop and the outline of your window as his frame.

"Took you long enough."

"Apologies. I thought some tree branches were hitting the glass."

The Rito made a show of turning in the air. "Funny, I don't see any nearby trees."

"I know," you sighed, disappointed.

Revali rolled his eyes and poked his head through the window, feathers brushing past your cheek as he ignored your personal space in favour of scoping out your room. The stiff turn of his neck as he looked around reminded you of the curious and confused little birds that landed on the sill from time to time.

"Quite a dreary home you have here." Gesturing to the overall darkness, he pointed to your stack of scattered papers. "You shouldn't study without proper lighting, it's bad for your eyes."

"I was asleep."

"Why, I'm surprised. And here I thought you were one of the festive many who choose to stay awake at an ungodly hour in order to count down the remaining seconds of the year."

"Well," you shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Not like it's anything special. New year, same shit. What difference would a countdown do?"

Biting down on your tongue, you stopped yourself from saying anymore. The cold breeze sifted past the light shirt you were wearing, making you shiver.

He was right, normally you were one of those people who stayed up, excitedly watching the hands of the clocktower tick til they reached midnight. You enjoyed the energy of being in a collective crowd, waiting with bated breath for the first inhale and exhale you would take into the brand new year.

The final month on the Hylian calendar brought a sense of relief and a hope for new beginnings. Usually today of all days you were at your happiest, jumping at the prospect of celebrating along with the rest of the kingdom and yet…

That sinking weight clawed at your chest again, forcing you to clamp down on it once more.

You grimaced. There it was; that bitter feeling. Hylia. How annoying. It twisted in your brain like an angry snake, pulling down your mood and enthusiasm along with it.

Last year you wanted to cheer and dance until the morning light. Now all you felt like was staring at the wall. Or falling asleep.

You blinked, turning back to the window to see Revali patiently waiting for you to continue. Feeling your face warm, you hustled your brain to get a move on. A coherent thought would be great right about…now!

"Hey have you ever wondered why they don't grow trees on this side of the castle? It's not fair the more expensive quarters get all the pretty greenery. I mean, non-noble guests still need that sweet oxygen everyone keeps raving about, you get me?" Shut up brain, that's enough. I said a coherent thought. C o h e r e n t.

Stars in his wings, Revali shook his head but answered anyway. "I agree, it's hardly fair. Also go change into something warm, we need to get you outside."

"What? Why?"

Something in the Rito's expression clued you in to the fact that he wasn't in the mood to play stupid. You've been sitting in the dark for the past few days and it didn't take a private investigator to know it was playing tricks with your head. "Fine, but when I say we go back--we go back, got it?"

He huffed, turning around to give you some privacy. "I promise on my honour."

The brightly lit lanterns of the town square made you squint as you shuffled closer to your guide, the sound of the city loud in your ears.

Though less prominent, the twisting feeling in your gut continued, making you more hyper-alert than usual to the world around you. Adjusting the sleeves of your coat, you followed Revali past the streets, the Rito expertly navigating through the sea of people.

Somewhere along the way he had taken your hand, and you told yourself it was a good way for you both to stick together. Wouldn't want you getting lost and spending the final minutes of the year playing an elaborate game of hide and seek after all. He was a great friend like that. Nevermind that everytime you would hold his wing a little tighter to remind yourself that he was there, he would always squeeze back.

You needed a distraction.

Just focus on everything that's not him.

The night was alive with the sound of music. It didn't matter if you partied with an alcoholic drink in hand, or a glass of milk, everyone in Hyrule was filled with an addictive buzz that came with an event that only happened once a year. Vendors with bright smiles called out from their stalls, the smell of freshly baked sweets or the sizzle of a barbecue beckoning you to take a closer look. To your left, a group of friends raised their hands in the air, loudly welcoming a Goron that had turned up late but regardless had finally arrived.

The archer followed your line of sight, guessing the question bouncing in your head. "Daruk is in Eldin, probably rattling Death Mountain with that story again about the Moblin camp and the barrel of explosives."

"I love that story."

"Of course you would."

"Sorry about your feathers though."

"Whatever, they grew back."

"How about the one's on your--"

"Anyway," he interjected quickly, playfully nudging you to the side and glowering at your laughter. "We've been told to 'take a break'. The other Champions have chosen to spend this day with their families and loved ones. We are planning to regroup and continue preparations in the days following."

"How about you?"

"I already said it."

Your cheeks coloured at the implications of his words, mind replaying the previous sentence. Families and loved ones. Families and loved ones. He didn't even hesitate. You both were not related. So that left you with...

"Woah!" Digging your heels into the dirt, you abruptly paused your brisk walk and saved yourself from colliding with the archer's back.

Stopping at one of the stalls, Revali held two fingers up. You glanced up at him questioningly but he refused to give anything away, expression relaxed. The vendor returned quickly, the Rito thanking them quietly and placing the payment on the bright yellow table cloth along with a large tip in their jar.

He turned around, dropping a square shaped pastry into your hands. It was some kind of rice cake, with a fluffy exterior and a golden baked surface that smelled of butter and felt warm like the sun.

Taking a bite, you smiled at the hints of coconut that were hidden in its sweet flavour. The sticky treat was familiar somehow. "Is this so luck sticks to you in the new year?"

Revali scoffed, though failed to hide his own smile behind the cake held in his wing. "You said the same thing when we first met. You need new material."

"Says the baron of bird puns."

"I am the king." He punctuated the statement by biting into his own rice cake. Offering his wing, he gently took your hand once more, turning back to step again into the busy promenade.

Following him, you noticed that the crowds ever so slowly began to thin. A lantern lit hill was coming up. The grassy expanse was dotted with a few people, though it was blessingly not as populous as the town square. "I should be the one that's surprised. Thought you hated crowds unless their attentions were all on you."

"It's tolerable so long as I am with good company."

The both of you walked up the hill with an unspoken agreement to make it to the top. Taking a seat on the grass, you allowed yourself to breathe, chest heaving from the small burst of exercise after days of being sedentary.

The twinkling lights of Castle Town stretched out before you. Gazing at it, you could imagine all the untold stories hidden in the glowing little pockets of the alleys and in the hushed whispers behind closed doors. Funny how in a city so full of people, one can feel so alone.

Revali was the first to speak, breaking you from your thoughts. "I think I can understand now. Looking at it from this distance, it really can feel like nothing much has changed."

You continued to stare at the lights, trying to focus on a certain string in an attempt to ground yourself. "Yeah. Sometimes it feels like though the world continues to spin, I'm remaining completely still. Just stagnant."

Frowning, you ran your hands through the grass, feeling the dirt shift under your fingers. You could feel your frustrations building, bubbling up to the surface with no way of dragging them back down.

"And the challenges just get worse every year. How am I going to face those old problems and these new ones if I'm still the same lost person I was back then?"

Your voice echoed at the last sentence, making you hide your head in embarrassment. That was loud.

Some strangers relaxing on the hill turned around to flash you an annoyed glare, before quickly returning to their picnics after spotting the Great Eagle Bow on your friend's back.

"I'm so sorry." You wanted more than anything then to dig a hole and hibernate preferrably for the next hundred years or so. "I'm yelling, that isn't like me. I'm so so--"

"There's nothing to be sorry about. You needed to say it." He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. There was a serious element to it that made it a little hard to breathe. "There is one part of that I don't agree with, however."

"What is it?"

"That entire section about you, how did you put it, stagnanting." He twisted a wing in the air, thinking on his words before pointing a feather directly at your face. "You're fully capable of enacting the change you want to see in yourself."

You felt a little dizzy now. But another kind of dizzy, one very different from the vertigo you felt waking up in the darkness of your room.

"And who said you were exactly the same as you were back then? You've changed. In a good way. You're stronger and more capable of things I'm sure the person you were two years ago or even less couldn't even fathom doing."

Turning to face you, Revali gave you his full attention, compelling you to do the same as the cadence of his speech joined the steady rhythm of your own beating heart. From the back of your mind, you could barely register the sound of people gathering together, their voices floating into the cold night air.

'Ten!'

"It's difficult to see your own progress from a distance."

'Nine!'

"So take my advice and start looking at yourself up close for once."

'Eight!'

He had that expression on his face, one that said he was thinking too hard about something. It was like watching him try to pull the planets together with just a piece of string. His brows were furrowed so deep that your fingers wished to run over his feathers and smoothe the worried creases.

'Seven!'

You slowly reached out to him, giving him enough time to back away. Revali stilled as your hands traced up the nape of his neck, leaning in as his pulse thrummed underneath the soft pads of your fingertips.

'Six!'

He opened his beak the moment you reached his face. You paused, half expecting him to tell you to let go and pretend like it never happened.

Instead, he called out your name.

'Five!'

He said your name again, though quieter now. It was enough to tug at the invisible force drawing you two together. Enough so that the polite distance nervously enforced by the both of you gradually began to dissipate, trailing away like a ribbon of smoke as you both leaned in closer.

'Four!'

"May I--," He cleared his throat, eyes darting away for a second before they were back on you again. Bright green in the lantern light. Emeralds in the desert sand.

'Three!'

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes."

'Two!'

"Your way or mine?" You couldn't help but joke. Revali smiled, exhaling a soft joyful laugh before pressing his forehead to yours.

'One!'

'Happy New Year!'

An earth-shaking boom rattled your ears, but all you could think of in that moment was Revali and the feel of his feathers against your skin; the utter elation of being so close to someone you deeply cared for and that cared just as deeply for you.

In the dazzling light you lifted your head from his, both your eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hands moving, you gently angled his face with a steady hand, feeling then the soft, butterfly light brush of his wings on your waist.

Closing your eyes again, you leaned in to press your lips against his beak, the blush on your face warmer than any fever or furnace. The Rito's soft sigh was barely audible as you trailed your kisses upwards, stopping at the red circle on his cheek.

Revali laughed again as you turned his face to press a kiss to the identical red mark on the other side. "You're very thorough."

"You deserve it." You beamed. "And this is just the beginning, just you wait at the end of the countdown I'll--"

"Actually my dear," he grinned, pointing to the sky.

"Huh?"

Above you were the vibrant colours of the firework display. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring, but a confirmation that you were definitely minutes in to the new year.

"Oh," you said, before shaking your head with a smile. "It's fine, we got 12 more months to prepare ourselves for the next one."

Revali nodded, pulling you closer so he could press your foreheads together again.

"Indeed," he grinned. "Now will you finish your sentence? What exactly were you going to do at the end of the countdown?"

fin.

#revali x reader #revali #botw #revali botw #prompt fic #more taggs later #i wrote this entirely on my phone so apologies for any errors #been thinking about this for a long time #also very late but happy new years #paella writes

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jaeminzie · 3 years

Text

better than words | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,226

a/n: lawd it’s been a while since i’ve posted a fic but here it is ! a week delayed from valentine’s but let’s just pretend it’s the 14th :,]

‘better than words’ by one direction

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

like most hufflepuffs, you have a natural interest and talent with every living thing, including plants. herbology is one of the classes that you excell at and enjoy doing. though, the hufflepuff class had to deal with the subject with none other than the slytherins.

students walked into the greenhouse chatting, but soon became quiet once professor sprout called out for your attention, “everyone! in celebration of valentine’s day, i came up with the brilliant idea of hosting a contest! the objective is to successfully cast the herbivicus charm on a rose. this charm is used to rapidly grow whatever plant you desire.” everyone looked at each other warily, completely uninterested in some gardening spell. “since this spell needs precise movements, you will need a partner to help guide you.”

immediately, students began making eye contact with their preferred partners. lee donghyuck turned his head slightly toward your body standing next to him and nibbled his bottom lip. your relationship with donghyuck was rather interesting. being seatmates in this class, you choose to be kind and offer help whenever you see him struggling which would usually not be accepted by the boy. you believed his attitude was because of professor sprout moving him all the way at the front of the class next to you in punishment of being the initiator of constant disruption with his friends stood at the back. you didn’t mind the silence though. but in reality, donghyuck wasn’t sure how to talk to you without being too straightforward as he’s been told many times that he is slightly too shameless. he was afraid to say or do anything that could potentially hurt your feelings when he’d had no intention in doing so.

“to make it easier for everyone, your partner will be the person standing next to you.” professor sprout said her ‘good luck’s’ before dismissing us to work on the assignment. “whoever perfects the charm first wins.” she smiles before heading toward her desk covered in plant roots in the corner.

taking a deep breath before turning to the boy, you greeted him — to which he replied with a simple nod and pursed lips while avoiding eye contact. you cleared your throat at the awkwardness prior to politely asking, “do you want to be the one monitoring me or casting the charm?”

“i’ll cast it.” he grabbed the book placed in front of you and began flipping through the pages loudly. he began examining the words on the brown paper and clicked his tongue, “this will be easy.”

you let out a small laugh, “it looks pretty complicated.” you skimmed through the lines along with him, leaning forward closely in order to see clearly. donghyuck leaned back slightly when he noticed the close distance between your faces. the boy’s heart raced the moment he felt your hair brush against his right cheek. he wanted so badly to slap himself for not being able to contain his feelings.

he crossed his arms, tongue poking the inside of his right cheek in an attempt to not smile, “are you saying i can’t do it?”

“of course not, just be realistic.” your smile faltered when the once-gone awkwardness made its return when the last portion of your sentence came out instinctively. “oh, um, that didn’t come out well. just- i just mean that-”

“don’t.” he said blankly while you slightly pouted at his words since you’ve already failed to maintain a decent conversation barely five minutes in.

you bit your tongue at his response and forced yourself to move on since you wanted nothing more than to disappear from this situation. donghyuck rolled up the sleeves of his oversized green robe the best he could before waving his wand experimentally. “it says to-”

he cuts you off, “i don’t need assistance.” the tiniest quiver of your bottom lip caught his attention before it was directed toward his friends who were making obnoxious kissy faces toward your two distanced bodies. he glared at them before tilting his head slightly when he noticed your hunched figure standing timidly, starting to feel the regret in his unnecessary words. donghyuck cleared his throat and began to follow the instructions written in the book.

you carefully watched donghyuck’s wand, mentally taking notes on the movements. his long fingers delicately held his wooden wand that fits perfectly in his grip and moved it with such grace, creating imaginary loops and curves just how the book had described. “herbivicus.” he breathlessly spoke when he was finishing up the wand movements.

he proved his previous statement when the rose sprout began to flourish steadily. donghyuck turned, unintentionally making his shoulder hit your arm, and walked toward professor sprout. observing from afar, you see the professor’s face brighten when he was done speaking politely with his hands put behind his back. donghyuck nodded before turning to walk back toward your shared working table. gathering enough courage when he got close to you, you asked, “what did she say?”

he walked past you and began tending more flowers planted on the dirt tray behind you without saying a word. at this point, your patience was crippling. “are you just gonna ignore me?”

without even turning his head to face you, he shook his head at your question. “then answer me verbally.”

donghyuck physically melted as his knees felt weaker when hearing your fragile tone trying to be assertive. he moved his wand quicker, trying not to prolong the silence between the two of you. once the wide variety of flowers were fully grown in front of him, he attached them together with a ribbon before taking a deep breath. he’s been told by his friends that actions speak louder than words when asking for advice on courting a person he has interest in. lots of interest. he used to always scoff whenever they’d say that, but his desperation grew over time of not being able to initiate a proper conversation.

donghyuck felt stupid for doing this which was evidently shown through his red face and sweaty palms. he straightened his back and held the flowers with both hands, placing them in front of him.

he turned around to face you teary-eyed, the tears were threatening to spill at any moment. donghyuck’s shoulders and face dropped upon hearing your tiny voice, “why don’t you like me? did i ever offend you? or do i just annoy you?” donghyuck muttered curse words at himself for making you think this way. he placed the flowers on the table by his side and hesitantly hovered his hands over your shoulders, testing the limits. when you didn’t flinch away, he softly rested them on your shoulders, brushing his thumb against the soft fabric of your yellow robe.

“no. . . to all of those.” seeing your flushed cheeks and nose made him want nothing more than to caress your cheeks. he looked around the class and made sure no one could see him pull you two toward the exit located right next to your working station, making sure to bring the flowers and placing them behind his back.

you yelp when donghyuck gently placed you against the brick wall, his hands barely had any grip on your robe like he was afraid to cause any further damage. your breath hitched when he dropped his hands into his pockets and looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you furrowed an eyebrow, not knowing how to react at this moment.

“i have a feeling i haven’t been the nicest to you.” he nibbled on his lip while you tried not to chuckle at his statement. “um, it’s stupid but i’m always cautious not to behave a certain way that’ll hurt you by. . . not talking to you at all or cutting our conversations as short as possible.”

he groaned and let his head fall back as he realized how childish and inconsiderate his actions were. your facial features softened as he faced you again with a coy smile. “forgive me, i swear i don’t not like you.”

he laughed breathlessly, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” the now pink-tinted boy’s right hand ran through his hair repeatedly before placing it on the wall behind you. “i’m really sorry.”

you blinked at him. “it’s okay. thank you for explaining, actually.” you cleared your throat. “i’m just glad you don’t hate me or something.”

“so, how would you feel about me liking you?” his once shy smile is now gone and has been replaced with a sly smirk. you were taken back from the sudden change of confidence from the boy.

you shrieked under his strong gaze as he stepped closer to your figure. “oh, i- um. i, i wouldn’t be. . . opposed.” his smirk grew bigger at your answer.

donghyuck took his hand off the walk and stepped back slightly and placed his left hand in front of his chest, showing the bundle of flowers he had tended for you. he stood there holding the bundle of the prettiest flower he chose himself with his still-sweaty palms, and smiling softly causing his still-pink cheeks to round. donghyuck surely held his composure quite well with his smooth comments and actions but the red tinted ears of his were clear even under the dimly lit walkway, giving his nervousness away. “this was what i was doing when you were talking to me.”

he scratched his head with his free hand, “sorry, i was fully immersed. y’know, concentrating.”

you nodded slowly at him. “got it.” you spoke slowly while eyeing the flowers in his hands.

donghyuck giggled at your state, all flustered and not knowing what to say. he could definitely get used to this view. “would you be opposed to going out to hogsmeade with me?” his hand went back onto the wall and his face leaned very closely to yours. “my treat.” a smile slowly made an appearance on his godly face.

you were baffled. just ten minutes ago, you were one second away from crying in the middle of class because of the same guy who’s making your heart flutter in a way that you’ve never experienced before. the same guy who wouldn’t even speak a proper grammatically complete sentence to you prior to the past couple minutes.

he quirked an eyebrow as he patiently waited for your response. taking a deep breath, you seriously had nothing to lose. “no, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” donghyuck smiled at how you can finally speak a full sentence without taking any pauses or stumbling upon your words.

once again, he pushed himself off the wall to grab your hand and arranged them so that you were now holding the flowers. you felt a wave of heat rush onto your cheeks and you tried to hide by keeping your focus on the colorful array of petals, allowing your head to stay low.

this obviously didn’t satisfy donghyuck since he wanted to stare at your flustered state all day. his pointer finger rested under your chin and pushed your head up to force you into maintaining the intense eye contact. pretty. he thought. your eyes were still shiny, and face even redder. donghyuck smiled at the up-close view of the face he had to restrain himself from staring at for too long in the past. savoring this moment, he examined your face slowly. taking all the time he needed and did not need, he continued to stare at the way your mouth fell slightly open, counting the seconds you could last without blinking your eyes and holding your breath when he stood so near you.

his brown, yet bright, eyes looked back at yours, he spoke softly, “good. i’ll wait for you outside your common room right before the sun sets tomorrow.”

you let out a breathy laugh at the vague description. “and what time is that?”

“anytime you’re ready.” his warm breath hits your hot cheeks, making your smile falter. donghyuck notices his effect on you and keeps that in mind for future purposes that you’ll soon loathe him for. “just don’t keep me waiting for too long. i’m already excited to be with you.” donghyuck smiled at the double meaning of his own sentence, feeling proud of himself for finally making a move and smiling at the sweet thought of his friends no longer pestering him to talk to you nor poking fun at him for being a bit of a coward.

the boy had to force himself to step away, but his gaze was still set on you. “i’ll see you tomorrow. anticipate it for me.” you blinked and nodded at his order while he winked at you before he made room for you to move past him and walk back toward the greenhouse.

donghyuck pushed open the door for you to enter and was automatically greeted with wide smiles from his friends still standing at the back of the room, silently cheering for their friend. he shyly smiled back quickly before retreating his attention back to you. he noticed how you caressed the soft flowers in your hand with such adoration and a smile on your face that will never seem to leave — he wished to do the same to you. and he had a strong gut feeling that his wish would soon be granted.

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