#people have been interested in my aus… so perhaps…. ill do something with those???

[euripidestrousers]

The Bridget Jones Wolfstar AU that No One Asked For

Dear Diary, 

Even writing those words makes me physically ill so I’d like to start this off by disclosing that getting a diary was not my idea. 

You see, my best friend, James - excellent, wonderful best friend who has recently become a family man by choice, and has therefore become one of the most insufferable people on earth - gave me this diary and said it’s either this or he’s buying me therapy because one more rubbish one-week relationship of mine is going to kill him.

And I don’t need a fucking therapist, so here you are, and here I am. I feel better already.

(haha)

Dear Diary, 

James might be onto something. Today I found myself smoking my third morning cigarette while drinking my coffee and muttering that the drive to work is going to be hell because of the rain. 

I’ve become my father. 

Of course, I asked James if he ever looks in the mirror and sees Monty staring back and if it makes him want to buy a motorbike and he replied, ‘Uh, I’m literally his son, we look alike. Are you okay?’

My thirty third birthday is coming up. 

Please don’t let this be a mid-life crisis. I’m not in a relationship because I don’t want one, and haven’t had one in over ten years because the men in London either want to meet you in the park or meet your parents. It’s the last hour of the buffet and all that’s left is the salad. And I don’t need a relationship either. James and Lily are a match made in heaven since the first time he told her ugly friend he was ugly (rightfully so, the man is still hideous and a complete prick), and she told him to watch his fucking mouth. Made for each other.

But the last time I met a guy that made me laugh and was any sort of attractive and not a complete knob about being attractive, was over three years ago. 

Ie, it’s not for me. End of story.

I bought a motorbike

Dear Diary, 

I’m going to do away with the whole ‘dear diary’ thing, it makes me feel like a schoolgirl and if James ever finds you when we’re drunk he’s going to read out at least one embarrassing entry at me. They’re all embarrassing. 

I went on a blind date today.

“Long black for… Sirish?”

What? Oh. That vague jumble of mush must have been his name. Sirius grabs the takeaway cup and makes for the door briskly. He has the Binkley case to catch up on and write a piece on by the end of the week and he’s still not clear who the man is. A football star perhaps? He’s still being sidelined into the sports area of the paper because he did football for a year. Nevermind that he has an interest in politics and would very much like to report on where the country will be in ten years if it keeps going-

J: You busy after work?

Sirius grins, flopping his jacket over one arm to type back to James Potter, best friend and inarguably lesser half of Lily Potter. 

S: drinks?

J: I have a one year old

S: too early for him to start?

S: kidding. Don’t tell Lily. She’s already started making him take his helmet every time I take him for a day. 

J: It’s not for drinks. Lily has a friend who’s just come to town. I thought maybe you could show him around.

S: Worst lie ever. 

J: I haven’t had coffee yet.

J: It’s actually true though. He just came to town and doesn’t know anyone other than Lily, and Harry has a cold so we’re both staying home.

J: He’s quite attractive I’m told. Lily told me to say ‘tall Martin Freeman’, and that you’d know what it means

S: Potter, if I was so desperate that I would open to a blind date, I definitely wouldn’t start with any of Lily’s friends, they’re all college professors and about 50 years old. 

J: He’s 37

S: He has elbow patches. Guaranteed. Bet he says ‘but the Torries are actually not as conservative as they’re made out to be.’

S: Bet he has a mahogany desk and wanks to Aristotle

J: Jesus christ

J: Photo sent

Sirius glances down uninterestedly and sees a photo of a man. But instead of the expected stuffy looking balding man with a sour face, as most of Lily’s fellow professors are to be fair, instead he’s looking at a tall, brown haired man with flecks of grey at the temples and smiling softly at the camera, and he’s well, he’s not not handsome. Tall Martin Freeman is actually quite right. Hello.

He brings the phone closer to examine the photo as he blindly barges into the office building with the large Get Up, Britain sign gaudy and bright above him. 

The man is younger on second glance, although he is wearing a suit jacket with elbow patches (told you, Jamie), and standing a little awkwardly, like he’s not used to photos being taken of him, and it’s entirely likely that he’s more accustomed to being nose deep in a book ninety percent of the time. 

He’s shagged worse. 

S: I was right about the elbow patches

J: I really tried to find one without them too

J: But he sounds nice. Funny. Lily likes him, she talks about him all the time. They were prefects together in school and used to bunk off and smoke behind the bins

One the one hand: prefect. Disgusting. Hall monitors. Pigs-to-be, snooty, law-abiding to the most irritating degree (Lily being the exception, of course). On the other hand: smoking behind the bins is more his style. Speaking of, he’d love one right now-

J: I really think you’d like him. Even just friends. Moving cities is lonely and he sounds alright. He likes Manchester U?

S: Fine, I’m free after 6

S: Don’t yell at me if I shag him, work has been shit.

So that’s how Sirius finds himself, half past six, swearing up a storm and running with his tote bag over his head in the pouring rain, late for his blind date (or something).

He slams into the restaurant door, shaking himself off like a wet dog, his casual Friday jeans and black t-shirt soaking wet, his shoulder length, black hair is dripping around his face, hoping his laptop has survived, and shivering like a chihuahua at a children’s party. 

“Uh, I’m here for uh-” he consults his phone again and reads the name to the maitre d, “Reh-mus?”

“It’s Remus, actually”, comes a soft voice from his left. 

Sirius turns quickly and immediately drenches the man standing at his elbow in droplets of water from his hair and coat. Tall Martin Freeman indeed - he has one of those faces that’s even better in person, where the way he stoops his shoulders and holds himself makes him look soft and welcoming, and the warm lighting gives him that attractive, cozy professor look, rather than an uptight old man.

“Oh”, Sirius grins quickly, hoping his dazzling smile will make up for their flimsy introduction, “Right, Sirius. Are you still waiting for a table-?”

“I er, well, I was about to leave actually”, Remus says, glancing at the maitre d awkwardly, “You’re quite late.”

Sirius’ smile freezes. Well, then. 

“Got caught up at work”, he replies stiffly, brushing his hair back and letting his eyes go cold, “If you’d prefer we don’t-”

“No, no, of course not”, Remus appears to snap back, as if remembering his manners and seeming oddly distracted, “Please, let’s sit. You look like you could use a drink.”

Sirius runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he follows Remus to the table and wonders if that was a slight about him looking like a drowned rat. He notices the man has worn an absolutely hideous brown jumper that wouldn’t be out of place in an aged care home, so he doesn’t really have the right to judge Sirius’ appearance. 

“Wine?” The waiter offers politely. It’s a nice place - James said Lily had picked it because she thought Remus would like it. It is a little stuffy, honestly. Something his parents might have stopped by and deemed adequate, which is to say, the beer is fucking overpriced, Jesus-

“I’ll have the Stout again, please”, Remus answers briskly, nodding at Sirius to order his.

“Uh, yeah, Stout. Cheers”, Sirius adds, dumping his bag beneath the table and trying to surreptitiously dry his hair in the napkin. Remus looks away as if embarrassed by him. Swot.

“So, you know Lily through school?” Sirius starts, unable to keep the boredom completely out of his voice. 

“Yes. I take it you know James through yours”, Remus answers, very politely but also sounding just as bored. 

“Yeah, grew up together”, Sirius nods. 

Remus doesn’t say anything to that, just hums and sips some water. 

It’s fucking awkward. Normally, Sirius would give him an ultimatum - ‘look, do you want to liven it up a bit and turn this into a fun one-night thing? Because otherwise, I’m not feeling it and I’ve got work to do.’

But Lily knows this guy, they have mutual friends, and if this isn’t what makes blind dates the most excruciating, hellish thing on earth, worse than job interviews, worse than-

“I don’t really do blind dates”, Remus says suddenly, and then blinks as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all.

“Right”, Sirius says, bewildered. 

“I, er, the dating scene. Not really my thing”, he says quietly, still not looking Sirius in the eye, “But I just moved here from Wales and I don’t know anyone, so this doesn’t have to be… anything. Just-”

“Oh- oh yeah. Fine with me”, Sirius finds himself swallowing down a touch of regret, offended really, because he’s not used to someone not immediately being ready to come home with him. “I’m not really looking for anything and blind dates are, well - eugh, you know? Like, thanks, my friends think I can’t get laid on my own or something so they set me up with whoever they think isn’t a serial killer, like any gay dude will do-”

“Yes, well”, Remus says tightly, taking another sip, “I rather thought Lily knew me better than that.”

His tone is rather pointed and Sirius realises he’s let his mouth run. Well… to be fair, the guy is kind of a snob. What was Lily thinking anyway?

“Yeah”, he agrees through his teeth, crossing his arms and legs and sitting back in his chair to wait for his beer. Maybe he can make an excuse after one drink. He can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humour and if this bloke doesn’t want to be a one-night stand, then he’d much rather be home. Alone.

“Is there anything around here you’d recommend?” Remus tries, voice clipped and still sounding slightly offended, “Restaurants? More importantly, ones you don’t recommend?”

“There’s a place that does turkey curry. It’s awful.”

“What? What curry?” The tightness in Remus’ face slips momentarily and he looks genuinely bewildered. He’s actually not a bad looker when he’s not frowning. 

“Turkey. It’s as bad as it sounds. Actually it’s worse, like eating a lamb burrito, it’s just not right. Shittest fucking curry and it’s as bad going in as it is bad going ou-”

“Two Stouts.”

The waiter delivers their beers and they fade off into silence as they drink. 

Remus sips delicately, in a way that’s completely inappropriate for a beer, and says awkwardly, “Yes well, thank you for the tip. I’ll rest easy never knowing what turkey curry tastes like.”

“Yeah, I mean, if you can avoid it then I guess this date wasn’t a waste after all.”

Remus blinks, expression dropping. 

Oh. Oh fuck. Double fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom”, Remus says abruptly and stands. He stalks away quickly and leaves Sirius gnawing at his lip and furious at both himself and this infuriating man who seems to loathe him, minutes after meeting him and who Lily apparently thinks is nice. 

He’s got other shit to be getting on with, he decides. And this bloke probably shags like a limp fish anyway, an Oxford type that thinks poetry is foreplay and once a month sex is scandalously frequent.

He drains his beer and half of Remus’ for good measure, and heads to the bathroom so he can catch Remus on his way out, only to hear his own name hissed furiously. He sees Remus standing out the front of the restaurant, shoulders raised against the cold and holding the phone to his ear. He steps closer and half opens the door to tell him he’s going to head off when he hears the conversation.

“... how did you think someone like Sirius would be good for me? After the hell I’ve had in the last year? Going on a date with someone like him? He showed up thirty minutes late, dressed like he’s going to a bar playing exclusively Metallica, and insulted me immediately. I told you, I don’t mind being alone for a while, especially after the divorce. I certainly don’t want to be shown around London by a rude, arrogant berk who dresses like a teenager and doesn’t seem to have a filter between his brain and his mouth. He probably thinks the bar scene is-oh”

Remus catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye and he spins. They stare at each other for a few excruciation moments, Remus still holding the phone to his ear. 

Sirius breaks the tension with a forced laugh, “Right. I’m definitely going home.”

“Wait, shit, I’ll call you back”, Remus mutters into the phone and hangs up, stepping forward but Sirius pushes past him, temper steadily rising into a roaring bonfire within his chest.

“Sirius, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re absolutely right, I wouldn’t know the first thing about showing a bloke like you around London”, he turns and says loudly so it carries over the sounds of the cars driving by on the busy street, “You’d be more comfortable in a fucking graveyard, honestly. There’s one ten minutes that way-” he turns his back and points over to the left, calling back over his shoulder, “You’ll find someone much more your speed there, Remus.”

Blind date disastrous as expected. 

Remus fucking Lupin, a professor extraordinaire who wouldn’t be able to find his funny bone if it conked him on the fucking head, is not an exception to the blind date rule, even though he’s easy on the eyes at first glance. At second glance, he is a miserable, dried up academic whose own self-importance has completely consumed him despite dressing like his grandfather for Halloween. 

If this is what my friends think of me, I need to sort my fucking shit out. 

I should have asked him to shag before he opened his stupid fucking mouth. 

[silly-little-soul]

SDV Highschool AU

A/N - in celebration of my graduation today!!

Very rushed and not formatted properly cause I’m at prom rn and writing this on my phone I’ll fix it later but like i wanted to post sth for the occassion

-

Summary: sdv highschool au, the ones under the +++ are x reader

Characters: Harvey, Shane, Elliot, Haley (cause theyre my favs to write for)

Warnings: drug mention

~~~~~~~~~~~

HARVEY

- Big nerd

- He’s planning to study medicine so of course he puts accordingly much effort

- Awkward as fuck icl

- Everyone lowkey loves him cause he’s always really helpful

- Aka almost the entire class just copies his homework

- Lives off coffee in every life and scenario

- (One of the) best in class and beloved by the teachers but not annoying about it

- If y’all wanna act like there wasn’t any homework in front of the teacher cause no one did it (except him ofc bcs NERD) he’ll totally play along

- Which is probably why the whole reason it worked

- Some ppl def have a crush on him

- But he’s just so awkward and oblivious… I love him

- Also not rlly into the kind of dating that’s most common among teens? Does that make sense??

+++

- So for you, let’s say you’ve been his friend since forever, best friends perhaps

- He’s had a crush on you so long but has like no idea how to go about it

- And you think he’s not interested cause he has friendzoned you so hard multiple times before

- It was a panic reaction don’t blame him

- I can picture you coming together at sone school dance and it’s like really cliche

- I’ll make these longer later I’m sorry

-

SHANE

- stoner

- Like sorry but

- Maybe it’s my Connor Murphy obsession or maybe I’m right

- I’m basing this v much on mentally ill Shane ik that backstory only semi much works with a highschool setting but we dont rlly know abt pre mental illness shane so

- Generally not bad at school he just has intense down phases where he completely falls behind (relatable)

- Works at some fast food chain and hates it but yk money is money

- No one ever shows up for parent teacher talks bcs he doesnt want the school to know about his family and his family about school yk

- Quiet most of the time

- Mean when talked to

+++

- But also like he doesn’t rlly mean it with some people you just gotta po ker if he does for you and talk to him

- Good news: you’re very much an exception

- Phew

- I’m thinking forced project or something

- No actually I’m thinking one of you is the others dealer

- Probs starting as a kinda fwb thing that becomes serious

- There’s sm potential here icl

- I’m gonna rewrite all of this next week and get more into it

-

ELLIOT

- The weirdest kid in the grade but beloved by all

- Writes a lot, probably started a club that’s related to that somehow

- Wins a lot of those lil writing competitions schools do

- A romantic, hands out flowers or something to people on Valentine’s

- Like super mysterious and no one can tell if he does it on purpose or if it just kinda is like that

- Def has some ppl crushing on him

- Has been ppls secret admirer before

- Except it’s not rlly secret bcs who else would do allat

+++

- So when he falls for you it’s like that too

- You get mysterious letters and flowers from an admirer

- Except it’s not mysterious bcs Elliot everyone knows no one else does that!!!

- You pretend not to realize a while tho cause it’s sweet

- And then after a but you just give him a secret admirer letter back

- Even if it’s not quite as poetic as his

- He appreciates it sm cause it’s so rare people match his energy

- You’re couple goals but also lowkey make ppl sick with all your sap

-

HALEY

- Pretty popular

- She’s very confident and can be a bit brash so you might get the idea she’s a typical mean girl but she’s actually pretty sweet

- Especially with the girls

- You might get a comment about your messy makeup but best believe she’s fixing it up for you

- Girl in trouble? She’s right there without hesitation

- Has told so many of the guys off before for harassing girls or not taking a hint

- She’s a guardian angle ngl

- A whole bunch of people having a crush on her and it’s getting kinda rough

- If the person is respectful she’s really nice in rejecting them (or at least tries), she was mean about it like once and felt so bad after

- She knows she comes off as pretty harsh and it’s not always intentional yk

+++

- You probably meet through extra activities i forgot the name

- She gets a crush p quickly but like y’all wait till you rlly know you work as a duo before you dare ask her out

- Like you wanna have sth behind your question and what you say yk

- Okay i gotta stop writing but !!!!!! will fix this up and write more next week

- Also send requests or fandom talk please and thank you

[trulytiredhermit]

Your Reader AU has my brain going brrr...though im mostly focused on the crack-ish ones.

This gave me an idea (maybe for a fanfic ill wrote muuuuuch later!) like what if Reader is aware of the Links trying to court them and the second they realize that the Chain likes them romantically, they immediately go cold. What if Reader has a long, long history of bad experience with romance and they're just tired and deadeyed. And when they start noticing the Links going yandere, they just laugh, saying "oh look, something new this time!"

the chain try their best but they're just constantly confirming Reader's worst fears.

*Aw thank you!! And yes the crack-ish ones are the funniest, I love crack AUs lol.

But OOOOF

Hitting 'em where it hurts!

I just KNOW the Chain would take this hard! Because they would have needed to become close to Reader, spent precious time with them and perhaps even shared personal thoughts and fears over their time together.

And then Reader all of a sudden is giving them the cold shoulder and completely shuts down their advances?

Angst town my friend, angst town.

Like Reader just constantly friendzoning them and hoping they get the hint, or dropping off facts about how they have a few bad experiences with past lovers and hoping that gets the hint across.

What it actually does is make the Chain start a hate list with those exes on it in which they may or may not take action upon them.*

But I also think the Chain just wouldn't get it, like they would misread all of Reader's hints that they aren't interested as something else. Their minds just couldn't accept the fact that Reader couldn't be theirs.

Also tag me if you end up writing that fanfic!! I'd love to read it sometime, but no pressure!*

You thought they had finally gotten the hint.

Wild laughed merrily as he recounted a funny story about the time he had tricked a man out of his sand and snow boots, shoving another bowl of warm soup into your still warm hands from just finishing your first bowl.

You passed it back saying you were full already.

Thought they finally decided to back off and leave your friendships the way it was, as just friends.

Time paired you up with him again, giving a curt response about how the inn was short on rooms, sometimes it was that the group just needed to save rupees, and people needed to group up.

You told him you'd just room with Wind then since the young teen wanted to hear another story about your own teenage years full of youthful fun and mischief.

But no.

Sky and Four presented you with an earring they had made together: it was a metallic earing with a red feather hung off the end, crafted just so that the feather was long enough to lightly tickle you cheek and sometimes your neck from time to time.

You haven't worn it once.

They hadn't taken the hint. They've ignored the warning signs. Practically driven over them with a stampeding horse, or a Hinox.

Twilight wrapped his wolf pelt around your form for the tenth time today, reminding you of how cold it was and how he didn't want for you to get sick.

You shrugged it to Wind, reminding Twilight you were fine just like the other nine times he had tried giving you his pelt before.

Just what more did you have to do, what more signals did you need to give them for them to get the hint?!

Hyrule had been hovering over you like a frantic cucco all afternoon, constantly offering to heal you and making sure you were okay after your little trip from a branch on the dirt road.

Once again you showed him the small scratch you had gotten, the one that was already scabbing over, telling him that you were fine, and he should save his energy for an injury that mattered.

You didn't want to sit them all down, outright tell them that you knew what they were all doing and how you wanted it to just stop. So you gave little hints here and there about past relationships that ended not so nicely, about how you were a little wary of dating again.

Wars shooed away a stranger that couldn't get the hint you weren't interested in his advances, wrapping his strong arm around your waist and glaring at the poor sap.

Though your thanks died upon your tongue when the war hero kept his arm there even after the man had left only letting go after you had pried yourself away from his side.

But did they get the fact that you weren't interested with them either? No.

Legend scolded you again, demanding you hand over your favorite shirt that had been slightly damaged by a stray arrow from a bokoblin during a skirmish, so he could fix it up.

Begrudgingly you handed it over, also wanting it to be fixed since it was always so comfy to wear. But you kept an eye on Legend's progress with it and swooped the shirt up with a curt thankyou as soon as he was done with it.

You wouldn't fall for his lies about how he had messed up a stitch or that he wasn't done with the article of clothing like he had done the many other times before.

You knew they were heroes and that maybe they had gotten so used to fixing things or that they just had the sheer will to preserve through all of your shutdowns and mis-directions since they were apparently the bearers of the triforce of courage, but it was getting ridiculous now.

Perhaps you needed to have a straight talk with them, needed to tell them that you weren't interested and that you wanted to just remain friends with them.

After all it's not like you could just up and leave them, as if they would ever allow it. Hyrule, no matter which one you traveled across, was dangerous and you didn't exactly have the survival expertise to even make it a day on your own.

So you just had to deal with the group's antics with the slim hope that they would cool it down after you had a talk with them.

[sharkrocket]

Shark… Burda but one of them is a mermaid… Mermaid AU…

OKAY me and my partner have been tossing around some ideas, and here are some of the thoughts we came up with (we are running on fairy tale logic)

Scenario where Artemy is merfolk and Daniil is a human:

Started thinking about a merfolk society that would hold the megalodon with the same reverence as the aurochs -> Shark Artemy

I know there's folklore and stories about how consuming the flesh of merfolk can either grant immortality, extend human longevity or have extraordinary healing abilities

Perhaps a certain researcher by the name of Daniil D. Dankovsky, whose goal is defeating death, is interested in these claims and goes to visit a remote fishing village that's rumored to have merfolk sightings

Do they really exist? Is it just stories? Some people claim to have seen them, some people think THOSE people have never seen a big fish before - Everyone has their own opinions about it

Has Simon eaten merfolk flesh? Is he the reason why Daniil knows about this?

A couple different things can happen at this point

One possibility: Artemy has the ability to walk on land and turn back to merfolk in contact with water but needs to return to the water after a certain amount of time before he becomes severely ill

(Maybe he's half merfolk, half human? Haven't established the details on how this would work but there's a couple of good scenarios here)

Would integrate into town society and mingle among the land people while taking note of which people posed a threat to the merfolk

He could simply warn the other merfolk of the danger, OR find the threat and eat him (thinking about this made me laugh, but it might not be the most practical or reasonable thing to do)

So when a stranger comes into town asking about merfolk and immortality, Artemy takes a VESTED interest

Introduces himself to this researcher and tries to get a feel for his intentions, and maybe fuck with him a little

"Oh yeah, I've seen merfolk before, real ugly creatures. They've got huge bug eyes, long limbs like a spider with pincers at the end and they only speak in a series of clicks and whistles interspersed in an interpretive dance" and Daniil is furiously writing all this down

But who is this handsome guy that was so adamant on introducing himself to Daniil? His skin glistens with water, his hair is dusted with flecks of dried salt, and he seems awfully knowledgeable about the sea.....

Maybe he follows Artemy around to see what his deal is, because there's something not quite right about him....

But for some reason, right when he's tails Artemy he turns a corner and the man disappears, save for a tiny ripple in the nearest body of water....

We haven't quite banged out the specifics of their relationship but there was a particularly good mental image of Daniil catching Artemy in half shark form face deep in a creature, eating its innards with blood dripping down his face and chest and Daniil just being very normal about it

This post is STUPIDLY long, more under the cut

Another possibility:

Artemy befriends this new stranger and they get closer, exchanging knowledge about their respective expertise

Eventually, after much discussion and trust built between the two, Artemy divulges details about himself, revealing he is a merfolk

Daniil's true objective isn't revealed until after Artemy has made himself known

Betrayal of some sort ensues, and trust between them is destroyed

Daniil has a difficult decision to make

Some of the potential outcomes for these scenarios:

Daniil becomes merfolk and joins Artemy to experience its wonders (not 100 percent sure how this would work, but I enjoy the possibility)

Daniil locks away Artemy and steals him away, while the ruling families ruin everything

Artemy offers flesh from his tail/fin out of love or spite and Daniil can choose to take it and leave, or stop him and tend to his injury

Daniil and Artemy fend off the ruling families, regain trust in each other and Daniil chooses to stay to continue his research

Scenario where Daniil is merfolk and Artemy is a human (sorry this one is much shorter, the details for this one were much harder to bang out 😔):

Eel Daniil.... Eelniil..... The snake imagery was too tempting, maybe one day we'll be more creative with this (oarfish was very funny to think about)

Most likely born as a merfolk in this scenario

Motivating factors: Perhaps he wants to explore the surface and the world of man and see what discoveries are to be had outside of the water (he no longer wants to dive below into the dark, he yearns to go up towards the light)

Perhaps some greater power in the sea wants Daniil dead and his best bet was to go somewhere where they couldn't follow....

Either way, his curiosity gets the better of him and he ends up getting captured (whether intentional or not)

He gets trapped in a tank either for display or waiting to be sold to the highest bidder

Artemy's work puts him in close contact with Daniil (the nature of the work is unclear, I had trouble thinking of something fitting)

In either case, the relationship between them starts off antagonistic, Artemy goes to feed Eelniil and he bites his hand and swims out of reach with a smug smirk on his face

Eventually, Daniil starts asking a lot of questions about life on land and Artemy has some questions of his own so they strike up a form of comradery

Maybe they realize they're both trapped and they start planning a way to break out and escape....

Just some loose musings we managed to come up with, hopefully you enjoyed these thinky thoughts

[messydiabolical]

Just saw a poll about what in fanfics you dislike the most and it reminded me about a specific plot line I see in Thane fics a fair bit and, well I have a lot to say. I've thought about writing this before but I chickened out tbh, I hate getting into discourse generally. I feel the need to preface that this is personal opinion and feelings, no fic authors owe readers a damn thing, and you can write what you damn well want to! Just to make that abundantly clear. This is also not written with any one fic/author in mind, this aint some vague posting attack on any person in particular. It is a trope I have seen occur on multiple occasions with Thane in particular, and one that gives me a lot of feelings. I bloody LOVE a Thane lives AU. That's my jam, no doubt. It's a cathartic, soothing balm for me. And how you choose to get there can vary massively and I love that too. I would say that I prefer when his motivation to persue treatment is based in wanting to live for Kolyat and especially for himself, and not just because his love of Shepard. And while they break my heart, I also think stories that follow canon, or divert from canon but still have him die, are also super important and I applaud the writers who go there, because ouch. Disability and terminal illness are difficult, real subjects and having that representation is so important. I completely understand why there are people who dislike Thane lives. So to the thing I really dislike: nothing makes my stomach drop faster than the disregarding or removal of Thane's bodily autonomy/consent on his own health. They tend to go like this: Thane has decided not to persue any potential treatments, collapses/is rendered otherwise unable to have his say on the matter past his already stated wants, and while unconscious Shepard overrides his DNR wishes and has him given life saving or extending treatments. He wakes up and is upset at Shepard, but ultimately forgives or even thanks them for making that decision for him (basically saying that he was 'wrong' and Shepard was 'right'.) I do think this can be written in an interesting, character study way. There's also those grey area tangents: For example, what if the treatment suddenly becomes available after he's already unable to give consent, one that he was not aware of. Or what if the source of the treatment changes; before he was against a transplant because it would mean taking from another drell, but suddenly cloning or something else becomes available? etc. Perhaps such plot lines have been explored and I've missed them, because unfortunately after reading a handful of the type where he is just wholesale disregarded by Shepard if I get even a whiff of this kind of plotline I abandon the reading. As for why this does not sit well with me at all? It creates a situation where you have to basically make out that Thane was somehow in the wrong for ever feeling that way, that his acceptance of his terminal illness is bad, his motivations wrong. Again, something that can be explored- but not by just wholesale disregarding and overriding him then later teaching him why he was 'wrong'. We are getting into the very murky area of "if a person is depressed/mentally compromised by trauma/their past enough, they are no longer able to make decisions on their own health, this is for their own good'. And- yikes. Red alert. Because that is a story that needs to be handled with so much care, and it absolutely should not be used as a temporary source of angst to further a fucking romance plot. I think this hits hard for me especially as a disabled person who has had to deal with my fair share of medical fuckery. I'm also neurodivergent and have mental health issues. Advocating for myself is something I have had to battle many a time. Anyway hoo I had that one pent up hey? Again, I hope no one feels personally attacked by this. It's my own ick, one that might resonate with some, one that others might completely disagree with.

[wtfuture2]

Wait why are you deleting it?? :(

ok so a fewww reasons 1 im just not hyperfixated on it anymore 2 ive been into eddsworld for a very long time and have had many many bad experiences with it. i try to enjoy it as best i can but remembering the stuff that happened with me in it is not fun at all and its easy for me to not want to enjoy it anymore, even if i still want to at other times 3 i dont like the matt or bing and i dont like the direction the series is taking at all. im a big fan of story driven concepts (obviously) and for matt to start taking it in a very more comedic nature than where edd left off i feel as though its just reverted back to how it was before. when it was very obvious the more edd grew as an animator he also grew as a storyteller and wanted to tell actually stories people could get interested in unlike matt plus bing is a weirdo and the fact matt defends him is strange . also the time he was weirdly ableist for no reason and never apologized for it. most of my reasons besides serious ones are very petty in nature so dont take any of this more than with a grain of salt 4 not a huge fan of. the fandom. its definitely gotten a lot better over the years but its still very easy to find weirdos and strange people. also dont trust popular/big ew artists on here ive seen some stuff i dont EVER wanna see again from one in particular. if you know you know im sorry to all thje people that enjoyed my art. as i do not really post it anywhere else except on private discord servers due to my very cool paranoia. i try to have a consistent art blog but it never pans out well since my interests are very diverse and nost just one thing. plus i just had no idea people would actually be sad to like?? see that i was leaving i was surprised so thank you for everyone that seriously just enjoyws my art as art and not because silly gay hoodie guys i might not delete this blog but keep it up as a archive and perhaps one day if i do have a active art blog or account ill link it on here but for rn im just not interested in keeping this going. i had many creative plans for a lot of aus i wanted to make but i found that i always felt bad that i couldnt of just rather used those concepts for ocs and orginial stories rather just on. yknow. ew. not to say me writing serious stories for something like that would be in anyway cringe or weird to me i just think i could use the creativity and ideas elsewhere and would rather use them for my own stuff. plus i have a lot of designs i made for ew that i would like to keep as my own

[five-rivers]

So first, I just want to say that I love Mortified, especially the arcs involving Ereshkigal and Innana. The whole thing is absolutely incredible, and I'm always thrilled to see an update. Second, I was rather hoping to offer you a prompt I've had swirling about my head. What if there is some sort of research facility exploring "that which is unknown and previously thought to be impossible" (i.e. magic but they don't call it that because people don't really know about magic and ghosts in this AU) and Danny's class is invited to go on a field trip there. At first, everything is normal, but just after the class leaves the researchers realize that their instruments show that some sort of Eldritch Horror is nearby and they start freaking out, but it's just Danny. I don't know where else this would go though.

Mr. Lancer chewed on the end of his pen.  It was a disgusting habit, he knew, but he could never quite get himself to kick it, especially when he had a problem to confront.  

Said problem was, presently, that enough of his students had expressed an interest in careers in ectology and paranormal science that he really had to give them a relevant field trip.  Unfortunately, there were very few reputable options for such a field trip.  The Fentons were unsafe, Axion Labs refused to give tours, the GIW were essentially a government sponsored hate group.  Most other ‘ghost hunting agencies’ were outright scams.  

But there had to be something nearby.  Or at least in the state.  Maybe not something that explicitly or solely dealt with ghosts, but something.  

Maybe...

Oh!

He shifted to sit straighter in his chair.  That would work.  He started typing an email.

.

“We got a what?” repeated Johannsson.  

“A field trip request,” repeated Deer.  

“Like... from a school?” asked Johannsson, cautiously.  

“A high school,” confirmed Deer, sounding rather stunned.  

“Do they... know what we do here?” 

“Evidently,” said Deer.  

“Like, they know we research magic and telepathy and stuff.”

“Yes.”

“And astral projection, higher-dimensional beings, alternate universes, that kind of thing?  Fringe science?”

“He says the junior class is interested in the ‘paranormal sciences.’”

“Wow,” said Johannsson, finally bringing his coffee up to his mouth and sipping at it cautiously.  “Where,” he started, “where are they from?”

“Um,” said Deer, peering at her computer screen.  “Casper High.  One sec.”  She started typing.  “It’s in Amity Park?  Do you think it’s a joke?”

“Ah,” said Johannsson.  “No, that tracks, actually, if it’s Amity Park.  We’ve got some weird readings on file from there, if you look it up.”

“It’s close,” said Deer.  “If we get readings, why don’t we have a presence there?”

“Another agency called dibs first,” said Johannsson.  “We have enough trouble.  No need to step on toes.”

Deer looked up at Johannsson incredulously.  “We fight eldritch abominations from the edge of reality,” she said.  “Is the boss really worried about stepping on toes?”

“Hey, that’s how we get funding,” said Johannsson, shrugging.  “We don’t want to end up like MKUltra.”

“MKUltra was a scam, Steve.  And also mostly illegal.”

“Yeah?”

Deer shrugged.  “Anyway, should I send this on, or...?”

“Yeah, go ahead.  The boss will probably get a kick out of it, if nothing else.”

.

“I would not have told the boss about this if I knew I’d be the one babysitting a bunch of teenagers,” said Deer through a clenched smile.  She jerked on the hem of her blouse, not used to the more formal clothes she was wearing on this momentous occasion.   

“Yeah,” said Johannsson, “but it isn’t like we get a lot of people coming into this profession for this profession.  And they’re kids.  So be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” grumbled Deer.  

“Well, look like it,” said Johannsson, elbowing her.  He caught sight of the yellow school bus.  “Here they come now.”

They waited until most of the students had gotten off the bus to approach.  

“Hi,” said Johannsson, “you must be Mr. Lancer.”

“That’s me,” said the rather frazzled-looking teacher.  “Come on kids, let’s get settled down.  Listen to our guides.  Let them introduce themselves.”

“Yeah, hey,” said Johannsson, waving.  “Welcome to the Edge Institute, where we study that which is unknown and often thought to be impossible.”

“Hi,” said Deer, frowning at one group of students in particular.  Johannsson followed her eyes.  

The trio in question didn’t seem particularly out of the ordinary.  Except...  Well, there was a reason Deer worked here.  

“I’m Steve Johannsson,” he said, getting back on track.  “This is Sylvia Deer.  We mostly work in report processing and assessment, but that brings us into contact with all our other departments, so we’re more than suited to show you around.”

Sylvia put her thumbs up.  “Yep,” she said.  

“Most of what we work with isn’t terribly dangerous, however, there are exceptions to that rule, and we have some classified projects, so don’t wander off.  Stay within view of us at all times.”

“What if we need to use the bathroom?” asked a student.

“Well, that’s different,” admitted Johannsson.  “We’ve got a couple scheduled stops, so make sure you go at those times.  Other than that, don’t go through any doors we don’t open for you and don’t touch anything without asking first.  Got it?”

There was a soft murmur of assent.  

“Come on, kids,” said Mr. Lancer, clapping, “he asked a question.”

The murmur became slightly more unanimous.  

“Right,” said Deer.  She jerked her head towards the building.  “Let’s go.”

“Anyway,” said Johannsson, “this is reception, which is the only part of the building freely open to the general public.  If you do need to go to the bathroom, they’re right there.  We’re going to hang out here for a few minutes, get everyone taken care of.”

Most of the students made their way to the restrooms immediately, however, that one trio stayed put.  

“Hey,” said the smallest of the group, “do you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Johannsson.

“Um,” said the boy, slightly rocking forward on the balls of his feet, “there’s, like, an alarm or a siren going off?  It’s really faint, but is everything okay?”

“We’d get a text,” said Deer.  “Not to mention an announcement on the PA system.”

“And the radios,” said Johannsson, tapping his.  

“Right,” said Deer, nodding.  “Maybe you have tinnitus or something?”

“Isn’t that recurrent, though?” asked Johannsson.  “He’d know if he had it.”

“I do not have tinnitus,” said the boy, firmly.  “I really think there’s an alarm going off.  Or maybe someone has a mosquito ringtone.  Gosh, I hate those...”

Johannsson glanced at Deer and noted that she, once again, was staring at the children rather intensely.  Mostly at the boy, but that made sense since he was the one speaking.  

“Danny has good hearing,” said the girl, who was decked out in an array of gothic and mystic symbols.  One which, on closer inspection, would probably be fairly effective at passive protection.  

Johannsson wondered if that was the result of research, intuition, or sheer luck.  

Perhaps that was why Deer was looking at them like that?

“Maybe I’m just imagining it,” said Danny, shaking his head.  “Let’s go to the bathrooms.  There’s probably a line by now.”

Once the kids were gone, and Johannsson and Deer were more or less alone in the entry hall, Johannsson turned to Deer.  “Think we should call Detection?”

“Yeah,” said Deer, pulling out her phone.  “There’s something not right, here.”

“Maybe he’s a sensitive?” suggested Johannsson.  “He could be picking up a project.”

“Or maybe he’s like you and he’ll break every piece of tech invented in the last twenty-five years as soon as he touches it.  Or he was cursed by a goddess, like Vicky in Containment.  Or maybe he just has tinnitus and is in denial.  I still don’t like this.”  She finished dialing Detection and brought the phone to her ear.  “Hey, I-”  She pulled the phone away, glared at it and cautiously brought it back.  “What’s going on?  An incursion?  Then why aren’t we on lockdown?”

Johannsson’s blood ran cold.  “An incursion?  How big?”

Deer held up a hand.  “That doesn’t-  You know we can’t detect everything!  It doesn’t matter if nothing else gets triggered, the protocol is lockdown until we can determine- If you had done your job, the kids would still be on the damn bus!”

At this point, Deer’s shouts had drawn the attention and worry of Mr. Lancer and several of the students who had emerged from the bathrooms.  

“Is everything alright?” asked the man.  

Johannsson glanced at Deer.  “No,” he decided, just before the security shutters slammed down and the emergency lighting came on.  “I’m really sorry,” he said, “but it seems like some of our colleagues were overly excited about your tour and didn’t, er, follow proper procedure following a, uh, event.  So-”

The PA system stuttered into life.  “Attention.  A level seven entity has been detected.  All nonessential personnel, please proceed to the nearest shelter.  Repeat-”

“Seven?” echoed Johannsson, starting to sweat.  “Seven?”

“It’s probably a false alarm,” said Deer, putting away her phone and smiling in the way only people who feel very ill do.  “None of the other incursion detectors went off.  No radiation associated with dimensional breaks or anything.  We should still get everyone to a shelter.  Maybe you can round up everyone from the bathrooms?”

“Right,” said Mr. Lancer, who was enviably calm.  

“Is an entity like a ghost or something?” asked one of the kids, who clearly weren’t grasping the gravity of the situation.  “How strong is a seven?”

Level seven entities couldn’t be described in terms of strength alone.  They were eldritch, uncaring gods that tore at the fabric of reality with their very presence, creatures that had no business being on the material plane.  They shed bright magic and dark science in their wake, leaving those unfortunate enough to see them grappling with madness that was not.  

He really wanted to know what was happening in Amity Park (ghosts?) that made these people so blasé about the alarms, flashing lights, and security shutters.  

Wait a second.  

He unclipped his radio from his belt.  “This is Johannsson, calling detection.  Can you describe the signal to me?  Over.”

The radio crackled.  “Slowly rising over the last thirty minutes, peaking and plateauing in the last ten.  Why?  Do you have something?  Over.”

The bus had arrived ten minutes ago.  Johannsson closed his eyes.  “Maybe.  Will inform.  Over and out.”

He looked over at the bathroom where Danny and his two friends were emerging.  Danny had his hands pressed over his ears.  Whenever the overhead lights flashed off, the boys eyes reflected green.  Just for a second.  

Yeah.  Johannsson had something.  The question was, what was he going to do about it?

[valwentinefics]

First Impressions - Helmut Zemo x Reader (Pride and Prejudice AU) Part 1

The news of a new inhabitant of Netherfield Park has your family excited to meet the rich and single man Mr. Barnes at the upcoming ball. While there you come face to face with his friend, the Sokovian Baron named Helmut Zemo, who seems like he’d rather be anywhere else.

A/n: First part woo! This part was mostly based on the 2005 movie, the next part will follow the book more. I also won’t be doing such accurate lines in the future unless you guys tell me you want me to, I just felt like I should in this to set things up better. I’m also just slapping in marvel characters where I can, I hope you guys don’t mind!

Series Masterlist

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. This opinion was held by the community for the newest inhabitant of Netherfield Park, despite not knowing his opinion on the matter, and the mothers in each of the surrounding families had their hearts set on ensuring that one of their daughters would be the one to stake their claim on the man.

Your chilly hands held a weathered book as you entered the small house, abandoning the crisp and fresh spring air for the warmer indoor air that always seemed to smell slightly of flour. You often read outside while walking, a way to enjoy your hobbies of walking and reading as well as relax in the quiet spring air without your often giggling horde of sisters to interrupt your thoughts as they were doing now.

Your eyes looked to the group of girls gathered outside the door to your father’s study, ears pressed against the wood. You gently bonked your sister Natasha on the head with your book when you saw her straining to hear whatever conversation was happening in the room.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop Natasha.” You scolded your older sister who’s beautiful face turned to a pout at your words. Although you were only the second child you often felt as if you were the oldest.

“Y/n this is different! Mother says Netherfield Park has let at last. It has a young, wealthy, and single inhabitant!” She protested, making you hesitate your retort.

Normally you were not one to indulge in your mother’s gossip about men, but the news piqued your interest. It was no secret to you or your sisters that your family was not doing well when it came to money. With your father aging more by the day and a cousin you hardly contacted set to inherit the property and everything on it once he died, things were not looking good. It was due to this that your mother was frantic when it came to setting up her daughters with suitable husbands. You sighed and pressed your ear to the door, knowing your mother was likely to attempt to set you or one of your sisters up with this newcomer, you were hoping to figure out some things about him before she did.

“How does his fortune affect our girls?” You heard your father, Mr. L/n, ask. You knew he knew the answer, your father was an intelligent man, he just found great enjoyment in pushing at your mothers buttons.

“Mr. L/n!” Mrs. L/n’s exasperated cry could be heard clearer than anything else that had been said earlier. It was as if she wanted the whole world to hear of her plights. “You know it matters because I intend to marry one of them to him!” Marriage seemed to be the only thing on your mothers mind, it was as if she was put on the earth for the sole purpose of getting you and your sisters a husband with good connections.

“Does the man get a choice in this?” You could hear your father chuckle and you had to bite back your own.

“The odds are in our favour with the amount of daughters we have, he very well might fall in love with one of them, which is why you must go see him at once!” Mrs. L/n pleaded, earning a sigh from Mr. L/n.

“You and the girls can go, or you can send them by themselves. Perhaps the latter will work out better, for you are as handsome as any of them. This Mr. Barnes may like you the best of the party if you are in attendance.” He flattered her. You knew it was a mix of sincerity and a way to distract her from her nagging. If nagging was something people could compete in, your mother would likely be world renowned for her skill. 

“My dear, you flatter me. I have had my fair share of beauty, however it is nothing extraordinary now.” Mrs. L/n paused for a second before seeming to remember her mission. “But Mr. L/n, You must visit him! Think of our daughters!”

The door opened, causing your sister Peggy to nearly fall to the ground, caught by your other sister Carol. The greying Mr. L/n smiled at the group of girls gathered outside the door before walking past them, chased by Mrs. L/n.

“Mr. L/n! Mr. L/n! Are you listening to me?” She called out as she followed him.

The older man paused, turning around to look at his wife and daughters who had followed them both. “I don’t see why I must go visit Mr. Barnes for a second time.” A sly grin spread onto his face.

“A second time?” Mrs. L/n gasped. “Oh, how could you tease me? Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?”

“On the contrary my dear, I have the utmost respect for them. They are my old friends, I’ve dealt with them countless times over the years.” He teased, earning an eye roll from his wife.

“Will he be attending the ball tomorrow?” Spoke up Sharon, excitement clearly shown on her face as she looked at your father expectantly.

“I believe so.” Mr. L/n replied, sitting down and watching as your sisters exploded with joy, chattering loudly about what they would wear and pestering him with questions about what the man was like.

You couldn’t help but smile and find yourself excited for the event. It had been a while since you last attended a ball and you looked forward to looking good and getting to see the strange new man. Netherfield Park was an amazing property, and you had heard many good things about the library of the place. The new tenant Mr. Barnes was likely to be an avid reader because of it, and if he was perhaps you could find a friend in him. 

A friend was all you were interested in. Whenever the topic of marriage came up you found yourself zoning out, much to your mothers dismay. Men were either too cocky or too daft, and always too easy to figure out. You wanted someone with substance, someone intelligent enough to keep his cards close to him, whose character you couldn’t figure out as easily as the rest. It would take characteristics like that for you to even begin to grow interest in a man, and even then only the deepest, truest love could persuade you into the chains of matrimony. 

-

The jovial air of the ball made a smile appear on your face as you stood in the corner of the room with Natasha and Wanda Maximoff. Wanda was your very close and trusted friend despite being seven years older than you. Your mother often would go on rants about how you would end up just like her, an unmarried burden to your parents at twenty seven, but you ignored it. Your eyes were trained on the dancing people, your foot slightly tapping to the sound of the music until it suddenly stopped. Your attention snapped to the entrance of the room, spotting three newcomers, two men and a woman. 

“The man with the blue eyes is Mr. James Barnes and the woman is his sister Miss. Rebecca Barnes.” Wanda explained, noticing you and your sister’s confusion. Her father had brought her family to Netherfield to introduce themselves earlier.

“And the man with the bad attitude?” You asked, examining the man accompanying the two. He didn’t seem too happy to be here. He was extremely put together, not a hair out of place and his posture exuding importance. His brown eyes looked around the room, making those who they landed on wonder what they did to deserve the piercing look.

“Baron Helmut Zemo.” Wanda explained. “He comes from Sokovia, rumors say he owns about half of the country.” Your eyes hardened, assuming his reason for being so unimpressed with being in the room must have something to do with his wealth and not wanting to be around so many common people.

“The miserable half of Sokovia clearly.” You scoffed, unable to rip your eyes from him. He would have been attractive if not for the ill temper he seemed to have.

Wanda and Natasha laughed at your comment, the music soon resuming once the group made their way to the other end of the room. You couldn’t help but stare at them, your attention mostly on Baron Zemo as he spoke to no one, despite the Barnes siblings who he had come with mingling with others.

You felt a hand grab your arm and you turned your head to face the person, realizing it was your mother. “Y/n, come, I must have you and Natasha introduced to Mr. Barnes.” She said, hauling you away to the other side of the room as you gave Wanda a pleading look, although you knew she could do nothing to stop your determined mother.

“These are my daughters, Natasha my eldest, and Y/n the second. I have others but they’re already dancing.” She introduced you and your sister. You looked at the group, taking great effort to stop yourself from staring at the Baron, instead examining Mr. Barnes. 

Mr. Barnes was certainly handsome with his dark looks. He was well built, clearly a man who went outside quite a bit, and his striking blue eyes were filled with kindness but had a small darkness within them, despite that you read him as a kind and gentle man who worked past his past mistakes. His eyes stayed primarily on Natasha, and you couldn’t blame him. Natasha was always the most effortlessly stunning sister, but when it came to balls where she put effort in her appearance, she blew everyone away.

“Mr. Barnes, are you liking it here in Hertfordshire?” Asked Natasha, her eyes stayed on him as well. You allowed yourself to glance at the Baron while the two conversed, finding the man standing still and talking to no one, instead looking away from your group and watching the dancing crowd with an unreadable expression.

“Very much.” He replied. You turned your attention back to the conversation to not appear rude, Mr. Barnes was giving your sister a charming smile.

“I’ve heard the library at Netherfield is one of the finest in the country.” You added to the conversation.

“It fills me with guilt, I’m not a very avid reader.” You had expected this from his athletic stature. “I prefer being outdoors. I mean, I can read, and I’m not saying you can’t read outdoors.” He began to ramble, seemingly embarrassed. Despite his kindness he didn’t seem to be too good when it came to socializing, either that or Natasha’s beauty was distracting him as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her even when you had spoken.

“I wish I read more but it always seems as if there's other things to do.” Natasha spoke with a smile, saving Mr. Barnes from his awkward state. 

“That’s exactly what I meant!” He smiled, making Natasha smile in response. You knew they would get along well which would delight your mother.

You felt the warmth of someone's stare, turning your head to see Baron Zemo looking at you. Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones for a few moments, wordlessly trying to figure him out. You heard Mr. Barnes ask Natasha for a dance, and she accepted, leaving you with the Baron.

“Do you dance much, Baron?” You asked, hoping to ease the tension between you two by initiating a conversation.

“Not if I can help it.” He looked away, not seeming to be too pleased with being spoken to. The awkwardness of the moment threatened to consume you. You silently watched your sister dance for the duration of the song before heading to Wanda once it ended.

“What’s wrong?” She asked

“Baron Zemo is a dreadful conversationalist. He seemed so irritated with me just asking him a question, I can’t stand-” You were cut off with a shush, Wanda gesturing to where the Baron and Mr. Barnes were standing nearby, not noticing you two.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in one place in my life.” Mr. Barnes spoke to his friend.

“You were dancing with the only beauty in the room.” The Baron replied with a scoff.

“She was gorgeous, but what about her sister? Y/n I believe was her name. She seemed intelligent, she asked me about the library. Maybe the two of you would be a good match” He nudged the Baron who sent him a look. Their dynamic was odd, and Y/n couldn’t help but wonder how such a kind man became friends with a man like Baron Zemo.

“She’s tolerable, but isn’t handsome enough to tempt me.” He replied, the two walking away to where Miss. Barnes was. You didn’t care about Baron Zemo’s opinion, but you couldn't help but be offended at his remark.

“If he liked you, you’d have to speak with him. Count your blessings Y/n.” Wanda tried to cheer you up. 

You forced a convincing smile. “I wouldn’t dance with him for all of Sokovia anyways, let alone his miserable half.”

Your joke made Wanda laugh, but your insecurities began to creep through. You had to forcibly stop yourself from dwelling on the Baron's words. He was pompous and judgmental and not worth your time. You looked over to him briefly and saw him looking unimpressed with everything around him. Was that really the man you would let spoil your fun night? He was the most disagreeable and unpleasant man you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing you would never have to encounter him after this night.

You stood up, determined to make the best out of the night, and headed to find a partner to dance with. You didn’t want to give the Baron the honour of haunting your thoughts. However, it was hard to keep him out of your mind when as you got in place to dance you felt the prickling of his stare on your back.

-

Taglist:  @killeromanoff  @ay0nha @thesuitkovian @pedropascallovebot @trelaney @hibiscusgardenia @dxnxdjarxn @naivara-duneimith @hiraethmaximoff @farihafangirls @aisling1985 @literatureandqueen​ let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[gronjon44]

REVILLAGE: Happy Ending AU

So I keep seeing people think of happier endings for RE8 and I wanted to take a shot at it.

Heisenburg is secretly communicating with Chris Redfield, and the two cooperate to kill Miranda, but the assault on Ethans caravan in the cold open throws their plan into wack.

Heisenburg then pretends to go along with Miranda's plan for the ceremony and, when he gets choice over Ethans fate, he opts to get hin out of Mother Miranda's clutches and send him on a path straight to his mill.

When they meet Ethan is met by him and Chris, who Ethan rightfully assaults on sight.

After a brief explanation from Chris about Mia's identity he cools off and Chris pulls out the journals we find in the climax of the game (Heisenburg supplies them to Chris to give him the answers he needs, and Heisenburg himself obtained these Journale through communicating with the Duke, who in this AU is the hidden 5th Lord)

Chris knows it's too soon to call H.O.U.N.D squad so they try to think of a plan;

Heisenburg opts kill the other Lords and use Rose to kill Miranda, but Cnris and Ethan rightfully protest using Rose as a weapon, to which Ethan suggests that perhaps they convince the other Lords to aid them in killing Miranda.

Heisenburg: They won't do shit to help us Miranda has them all Brainwashed, Alcina and Moreau especially.

Ethan: If you can change sides why can't they? And we'll need all the help we can get if we want to kill the bitch.

Chris: He has a point-

Heisenburg: Can it Boulder Boy I know. *sighs* Look if we're gonna do this we do it my way and on my terms, and the way I see it they'll all kill you two on sight if I'm not around, especially you *gestures to Chris*

Chris: What do you suggest?

Heisenburg: Ethan and I go to each one and TRY to talk to them. Doubt they'll listen but if you two wanna try this then we start with Donna.

Ethan: Isn't she-

Heisenburg: The mentally deranged one with a killer dolls? Yeah and she's the best place to start; we start with Moreau or Alcina they'll kill me on sight and then go straight for you.

Chris: I don't like this-

Heisenburg: Well it's the only plan we have so let's go.

Heisenburg and Ethan leave for the Beneviento estate, with Chris staying behind to help evacuate the remaining survivors of the village (Elena does still meet Ethan and the other villagers do all survive, though Elena's father does still die)

Ater making their way through dolls and... certain bosses... they finally see Donna and Angie, to which Heisenburg is unnaturally caring towards Donna.

Donna: Karl... Why are you here with... him?

Heisenburg: Donna hear me out-

Angie: He should be DEAD! You lied to Mother and we should TELL HER!

Heisenburg: CAN IT you little shit! Donna she's been abusing us for years you have see that.

Donna: You're... lying...

Ethan: Please you have to listen-

Angie/Donna *in sync* : You're supposed to be dead. You're going to ruins mothers plans for Rose and we should just kill you now

Ethan *pulls out the Bio Journal on Donna* : You think I'M the enemy here? Read this and tell me who's worse.

Donna reads the journal, seeing how Miranda views her as a test subject and sees her psychological profile, how Miranda viewed her as unfit as a vessel for her daughter.

Donna: No that... that's not...

Heisenburg: Donna you don't have to do what she wants you can help stop her you can get your life back.

Donna: I...

Angie: They're lYING! They want to ruin the ceremony and take Miranda away from us its a TRICK!

Donna: Its in her handwriting Angie‐

Angie: Let's just kill them now! Mother will be so happy...

Ethan: Those are her words we can all see it plain as day. Please Donna, help us end this.

Donna: I-

Angie: C'mon let me gut him right now Donna! He should've died when we was brought to the castle-

Donna: Angie stop...

Angie: No they need to-

Donna: Angie stop.

Eventually, through some leftover shred of humanity, she returns the flask to Ethan and the three then leave the estate, a small Bridal doll left among an even larelger collection of dolls that would never see the light outside that old house.

They then leave to visit Moreau who is much more headstrong then initially expected.

Moreau: Mother has...cared for us and you'd... betray her like this..?

Donna: Moreau I-

Heisenburg: Listen you puss filled sack of shit Miranda views us all as test subjects she doesn't see us as her children, much less you or I.

Moreau: You're...lying... She-*coughs*-she loves me... She gave me my Cadou...

Donna: The Cadou's are what made us into Monsters Moreau.... there's better for us then this. The ceremony will just give her reason to dismiss us.

Moreau: But... she loves us...

Heisenburg argues that Moreau is a lost cost, and suggests killing him now, though Donna believes he can be swayed.

Ethan: Moreau listen‐

Moreau: You just want to RUIN her special ceremony! She gave us these flasks to... to prepare for it... she loves us and knows we'll care for them like our children... because she's do the same for us...

Ethan: Moreau I'm a father, a parent. And I can see that Miranda isn't your mother. If she really cared about you would she have turned you into this... this thing? You used to he human and she called this a gift. Help us and we can help you. You don't have to live like this.

Moreau: You're... you're lying-

Ethan: If she cared for you would she leave you alone in this swamp with a bunch of mindless animals who used to be people? People who cared for her just as much as you care for her?

Ethan hands Moreau the journal detailing his evaluations, gently placing it in his hands.

Ethan: If you really think she cares about you, then you'll throw this in the water.

Moreau takes the journal and, before throwing it to the swamp, opens the first page and begins reading, eventually slumping to the ground.

Moreau: She... She doesn't care about us... Our Cadou's were all just... tests to see if we'd survive for Eva...

Ethan: I told you. It hurts to know the truth but if you help us it'll all be better. *offers Moreau his hand* I promise.

Moreau, silently, hands Ethan the Flask and agrees to help eliminate Miranda, so long as he can go back to his swamp when they're done. Knowing the truth hurts too much for him...

They then travel to Castle Dimitrescu, met by her daughter Bella awaiting their arrival.

Heisenburg: Bella.

Bella: Heisen-bitch.

Donna *pushing Heisenburg back* : You know why we're here.

Bella: I do, and you've been ordered to accompany me to my mother's quarters, though she's requested you leave all weapons out here. Including the Hammer.

After Heisenburg finally gives up his weapon Bella leads the guests to Alcina who, unsurprisingly, is disappointed in all of them

Dimitrescu: Now I must say to see you here Moreau is quite a shock. You of all people I expected to put up more of a fight. Donna well... let's face it you've never been all there.

Moreau: They're right Alcina-

Dimitrescu: And why should I believe you? Why should I believe any of you? The things she's done for us these past years are just as easily dismissed all because this Man Thing before us said a few mildly persuasive words?

Heisenburg: I told you she was a lost cause-

Cassandra appears and draws her cicle on Heisenburg, barely slicing his neck.

Cassandra: Speak ill of Mother again or we'll-

Heisenburg: You'll what? I could bend that toy of yours right now but I won't because that "Man Thing" wanted to talk to you.

Ethan: Alcina-

Dimitrescu: Speak when your spoken to-

Ethan: No actually I won't. Listen I know you have alot of family beef and to be honest, I don't want to get involved but here I am. You have daughters so you understand what being a parent is like. You'd do anything for them, correct?

Dimitrescu: I... I would.

Ethan: Then you know that I won't stop until I get my daughter back where she belongs. If something happened to one of your daughters do you think Miranda would care? Would she bat an eye if one of them died right now?

Dimitrescu: She cares for all her children-

Ethan: But they aren't her children are they? None of you are really. All she wants is Eva and she'll do anything for it. What do you think she'll do with you all when she has Eva back? She won't her other children when she has her real daughter back. Be honest with yourself and consider just how much she really cares about you.

Dimitrescu sat in silence, everyone in baited breath, until she ordered everyone leave the room except for Donna. Her daughters protested, but she affirmed her decision once more.

Dimitrescu: They really convinced you then?

Donna: Alcina I-I have never been a hundred percent mentally, you were right about that. But for a brief moment I felt... clear headed, like I was sound of mind for the first time since before my parents died. I know you noticed Angie is gone, and I'm glad she's not here. I left that doll behind because I want to move on, to a future better then what Miranda has promised us.

Dimitrescu: But she gave us these gifts Donna. How can you or Moreau just turn away from her-

Donna: I've been mentally and physically scarred by Miranda, Moreau even moreso. You an Heisenburg got off easier then we did. I know you still follow her but please *Donna pulls out the Analysis Journal about Alcina* Just read her own words for yourself.

Donna leaves the room to let Alcina read the journal who, for a brief moment, just stares at it in silence, debating whether or not to actually read the journal; an hour goes by before Alcina steps out of the room, everyone at attention.

Heisenburg: Took you long enough.

Her daughters circle around her, they're words drowned out by Alcina making eye contact with Donna, who gives her a silent smile.

Dimitrescu: Daughters I've decided that we will... Help them. They speak truth and we will help them. Miranda does not have our best interests at heart and I will not allow any harm to come to you three.

Alcina hands the flask to Ethan, making eye contact with him before letting it go

Dimitrescu: From one parent to another, don't fail us.

With the final flask obtained they return to Chris, now joined by H.O.U.N.D Squad, who reveal that Miranda has secretly kept Mia alive for experiments, and wants Ethan to come alone with the flasks. Ethan, not wanting to risk his wife's life a third time, agrees to go alone.

With the flasks he goes to Miranda who, with a chained up Mia, begins to explain her life goal and tells Ethan how, even after everything he's gone through, he's still going to fail, even after coming back from the dead (this prompts the reveal that Ethan is part of the Megamycyte/Mold created by Eveline, and how his unique body is what made Rose even possible.

Before anything else can happen Chris, having tracked Ethan, begins the assault on Miranda, giving Ethan a chance to rescue Mia.

This leads to the fight with Miranda, Alcina and Heisenburg appear to aid him in battle while Donna and Moreau escort Mia to safety.

Miranda, in a fit of blind rage, guts Ethan and rips out his heart (and the flasks) and leaves him limp while she prepares the ceremony.

As Miranda continues with the ceremony Mia runs to Ethan, who in his last words, tells Chris to take care of Mia and Rose.

Moreau who, after seeing all this unfold, is so touched by Ethan he quickly uses a Cadou to ressurect him, which manages to bring him back as a newer more bioweapony Ethan Winters

Just when Miranda finishes the ceremony Chris shoots her enough for Donna to snatch the baby from her and give Alcina and Heisenburg room to let loose and deal more damage to her.

Chris knows Miranda won't stay dead unless they destroy the Megamycyte, and reminds them that he planted a bomb on his way in. When he pulls out the detonator Moreau asks where the bomb is and he tells him it's planted in the main chamber of the Megamycyte, to which he snatches it and begins running towards Miranda.

Moreau: I can't live if Miranda doesn't care about us... I won't stand by her lies... not anymore.

Moreau turns into his larger fish form and tackles Miranda, sending her over a nearby cliff that happens to lead to the Megamycyte chamber. He yells for everyone to run.

With those final words everyone escapes the village before the bomb can go off, leaving Miranda, the Megamycyte, and Moreau all wiped out with the rest of the village.

Everyone goes the own paths from here on out. Heisenburg joins Chris as a member of H.O.U.N.D Squad

Lady Dimitrescu finds a new castle with her daughters and opts to take the village survivors with her (the men aren't all immediately killed and the women become hand maidens who AREN'T turned into savage vampires)

Donna Beneviento leaves with Alcina as she feels most comfortable in her company, even striking a relationship with one of the daughters (probably Diana or Bella)

Ethan, Mia, and Rose leave to a new home, with Elena going with them as a caretaker to Rose, they move to another European safe house, hopefully able to finally live peacefully.

This took awhile, almost 6 hours. This is the first real AU fic I've ever done and I apologize if it isn't the greatest but I wanted to make a happy ending AU for the game.

Also yes Moreau dies in the end still cause let's face it his whole existence revolved around pleasing Mother Miranda and I don't think he would've wanted to live in a world where she didn't love him.

[ladyeliot]

Exceeding expectations

Valentine’s Day (Masterlist) 

Request: Anonymous: Hey this is for the Valentine’s Day promps! Tony, ⚡️, enemies to lovers, 4. & 11.

4. “I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up.”

11.  “Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!”

Pairing: Student!Tony Stark x Fem!Student!Reader

Summary: All your life you have been focused on your studies, for you that was all that mattered, but during your third year of university things take a sharp turn and love appears in your life.

Warnings: College AU. SMUT ⚡️

Word count: 7254

A/N: This is very long! It has gotten out of hand. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

At the age of thirteen you had discovered that love, or rather what adults used to call love, because you barely knew what those four letters meant, doesn't always bring you happiness. Jason Filton had sent you a note in the middle of Biology class informing you that you were no longer dating and that his new girlfriend was Sarah Rickman. After reading it, you threw the paper over his head as hard as you could, making all your classmates laugh and you ended up in the headmaster's office. At that moment you decided that love was rubbish, as well as everything else that had to do with it, so you chose to dedicate your life to more important things, such as your studies, and that's how you got a place in one of the best universities in the country.

For the first two years of aeronautical engineering you abhorred any distraction that would make you lose track of your own path. No parties, no conversations of more than ten minutes with anyone that weren't helpful to your future, no going home for holidays, it was all a waste of time that tended to break up your daily routine. Your university lifestyle tended to be unconventional, and unconventional didn't tend to go unnoticed in those places, and it didn't help that you were a year ahead of everyone else and your grades were above average. It seemed that everything stood in your way, but you used to overcome obstacles with great ability, you didn't let anything get to you, especially coming from society.

In the third year things changed, you were offered the possibility of taking two parallel degrees, as many subjects were validated, there was no evidence that you accepted, so in your weekly planning began to appear subjects of mechanical engineering. At no point did it ever occur to you that this choice would bring with it some murky consequences that you did not have in mind. A smarty-pants is not always well accepted in a class when there is already a person who occupies that position, there he was, the cause of all your future ills during the university year ahead, Tony Stark.

It's not that you hadn't competed with people like this before, well, you'd never really come across someone like this before, he was worthy of analysis, one of a kind, any student of psychology or even anthropology would be willing to do a doctorate on him. Although he obviously wouldn't come out of that research alive.

A week after attending those classes, you discovered that he was the same age as you, so he was also advanced in Mechanical Engineering, but the most surprising thing was that he already had a PhD in Physics, which made you wonder what you were doing wrong. Even so, the most curious thing is that he hardly paid any attention in class, he spent the whole time chatting amicably with his colleagues in the back row, but every time he was asked he answered the professor's questions correctly and wittily. He was a scholar, and that got on your nerves, although it was easy for you to hide it.

You avoided getting in his way at all times, but it was very easy for him to do so whenever you were in class, and one point in your favour was that when classes were over you used to lock yourself in your bedroom, and you were lucky that your classmate hardly ever came around, so those 15 square metres were all for you. But even so, the biggest drawback of your third year was not the competition with Tony Stark, it was someone else, James Barton.

James was a boy who shared some Mechanical Engineering classes with you, he was a year older than you and it was more than evident that he was a real inconvenience, because from the first day you entered the Micro/Nano Engineering Laboratory and he sat next to you, you knew you were in serious trouble. You felt the same as when Jason Filton at the beginning of eighth grade invited you for an ice cream in the cafeteria, that's right, that was the closest thing to love you had ever felt, that's why you knew you were in serious trouble.

During the first few months there were no clear developments, mostly because you never noticed any interest on his part. In your case, you hid with all your might the excitement you felt every time Tuesday morning came and you had to share a lab with him, the last thing you wanted was to look like a desperate high school teenager every time you saw him. But by magic, or perhaps fate, things gave you an incentive for your relationship as classmates to evolve.

Apparently James had been down with the flu for a week, so he was unable to attend class that Tuesday, it was obvious to you from the first moment you saw his empty seat. Therefore, Mr. Gregory thought it appropriate, since you always sat next to him, that you could bring him the material he had offered during that class. You were grateful that he thought there was at least a friendship between the two of you, it was an incipient one for you. You were a little reluctant at first, mostly because you didn't think it was appropriate to introduce yourself to him in his dormitory when you had barely spoken a word to each other beyond a morning greeting and a goodbye when you left class, but you chose to accept it as a personal challenge.

It was not complex to find out which dorm you were staying in, nor to find out which room you were in, the complexity was in making proper social conversation, as your social skills were far from what any young person could wish for. Nor did the male gazes cast upon you as you entered the building and began to walk down those corridors to the third floor help, you didn't know if you were in a dorm, a circus or a petting zoo. It made you wonder how those people had managed to get a place at MIT.

You positioned yourself in front of the wooden door with a set of papers and notes from Mr. Gregory's class in your hands, replaying over and over in your mind how you could start an ordinary conversation, but before you could knock on the door someone behind you thought you needed help so with his knuckles he rapped on the wood.

"If you don't knock no one will open the door," said a boy flashing you a friendly smile, perhaps the first you had ever seen in that place, as he continued on his way.

"Come in!" exclaimed a voice behind that door, you knew at that moment it was James.

Taking a breath you slowly rested your hand on the doorknob and turned it slightly, leaving only a small gap to put your head through.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I don't mean to intrude. I'm just dropping off the notes and materials Mr. Gregory gave in class today. He thought they might come in handy for next week's class."

James was lying on the bed, you found that the atmosphere was a little heavy with sweat mixed with his particular scent with hints of cinnamon, but the moment he discovered who his visitor was he sat up and started to pick up some tissues that were scattered on the sheets.

"God... I'm sorry, this is a mess," he said, taking the wastepaper basket in his hands and stuffing everything he could find into it, his tone totally congested.

"No, don't worry about it," you added quickly, stepping into the room. "Don't mind me, I was just coming to bring you the notes and I was just leaving."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, collapsing back onto the bed from flu-like exhaustion.

"That's all right," you gave him a small smile and put the material you had brought on the desk nearest his bed. "I guess you'll understand everything, but if you don't understand anything or need anything at all you can tell me."

"Thank you very much," he said leaning back against the wall, "I appreciate it."

You nodded smiling at him, thankful that the situation hadn't been too complicated, at least so far, so you decided not to push your luck and head for the door.

"Wait," he exclaimed as best he could behind you, causing your footsteps to stop and you to turn back to him. "Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?"

During those moments you were trying to process his request to buy you a drink the dormitory door opened with a thunderous bang against the wall, bringing you face to face with your beloved Mechanical Engineering partner.

"Oops, sorry, am I interrupting something?" he said curiously, contemplating you both gradually.

"Could you not give those bumps every time you come in?" complained James almost incomprehensibly due to congestion.

"Sure mate," having said that he gingerly closed up and walked over to his bed, picked up a book, lay down and pretended to browse through it.

"So?" James looked back up at you waiting for an answer.

It had all happened so fast that your mind had not yet come to terms with the situation, but all you had to do was say "sure", "yes, I'd love to" or "of course, that would be fine", but you only managed to nod with a small smile.

"That's a yes?" he asked trying to clarify your intentions.

"Sure," you managed to say between nods, which managed to extract a smile from your partner. "So... I'll see you next week in class. I hope you get better."

To your surprise you had overcome that personal challenge with great talent, you knew that if your sister were present she would award you the medal for bravery, not only for having talked to a boy, but for having managed to get a possible future date with great elegance, and without hardly expecting it. But what you didn't realise, or at least not until first thing on Wednesday morning, was that you were in for some curious comments from your opponent about the previous day's events.

"So you're going out with Barton," he said almost before he sat down behind you. "I thought your social life was limited to striking up a conversation with the lady at the post office one Sunday a month."

Over time you had learned that the best thing you could do was to ignore that annoying little voice that sat behind you every Wednesday and tried to interrupt you every time you were offering an explanation during class. It was the best way you had found to get through those first few months with him.

But it wasn't all that simple, especially when you and James started a friendship that developed into something a little more serious just before the Christmas holidays. Like any other relationship where two people are attracted to each other the search for intimacy is normal and ordinary, during the third year of university you were lucky that your roommate was practically a ghost and you found the best place to have your own intimacy, because obviously you didn't know why Tony Stark was always in his bedroom, and when he wasn't he used to appear at the most inopportune moments, and worst of all without knocking.

"Are you crazy?" you exclaimed, hiding under the covers. "Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Oh, come on! It's nothing I haven't seen before," he said throwing himself on his bed. "Don't worry about me, I don't care."

At those moments you didn't know whether to get up and cross his face or just not show up there anymore, because things didn't stop there, he used to drag out the subject at hand and make inappropriate comments to you in class, such as "I hope you used protection" or "you forgot your bra" or "if you need any advice you know you can ask me for it". It was quite frustrating, because there was little you could do about it, just ignore him or else he would come over the top.

Apart from that everything seemed to work perfectly with James, or at least that's what it seemed to you, the two months that you had been together things were coming together without forcing them, you met every now and then to go out to eat, you took advantage of the moments you were alone to study and sometimes things generated moments of intimacy, it was the closest thing you had had to a love relationship, although your experience was very basic in that matter in question. So basic that you barely understood a lot of things and you could be very naive about anything to do with social relationships.

Discussions started to become your daily routine, they all came hand in hand because of your clashing characters, he used to have a very evolved social life, three times a week, he even skipped some classes because of the hangover that the night before he had self-inflicted, although you accepted his lifestyle, you didn't share it at all and his constant initiatives to integrate you in his environment didn't usually turn out as he expected. So a constant back and forth ensued from then on, which brought out a character you didn't like.

You began to hear rumours, which you tried to avoid, so as not to get caught in the net. These rumours ranged from whether James had hooked up with Nancy Skelton the night before to whether he had taken her to his room. So every time you sought an explanation he seemed to find himself sufficiently unwilling to offer one. The same thing happened on Valentine's Day.

You had been ignoring the rumours that were torpedoing your ears for two weeks, James had sworn and swore to you that nothing that was going around the halls of the college was true, that he hadn't done anything with anyone at the frat party. You, like an innocent fool, accepted his words, letting yourself be carried away by those green eyes that knew how to make your legs tremble. So that meant that the Valentine's dinner was still on. It was the first time you had bought a dress for a special occasion on your own, you didn't choose to take risks, black was always welcome and straps too, although you really did take risks with the neckline, and with the reddish lipstick. In short, you wanted me to discover that you could also become Nancy Skelton for a night, but apparently I didn't feel like checking it out. You waited for twenty minutes in your room for him to come and get you, but you thought something must have happened, so you headed off to find out for yourself.

Again, as if you were in a circus attraction, and you were the main attraction, you rushed through the corridors of the male dorm with whistles, sexist comments and cheers behind you. It was Thursday night, which meant that the party had started early that evening and most of them had traded blood for alcohol. You knocked on the door, waited a few seconds but no one answered, knocked again, but the case was ignored so you tried to turn the doorknob, but to your surprise the room was locked.

"What the hell?" you asked yourself.

Totally confused you look at your wristwatch, expecting to have got the time wrong, but no, it was 8:35 p.m. just thirty-five minutes later than you had arranged. You stood there for a couple of minutes waiting for him to appear out of nowhere, but the most you could find was one of his mates running past you in his underwear.

"Hey! Do you know where James Barton is?" you exclaimed trying to find an answer.

"In the common room!" he shouted without turning to look at you.

Looking like a complete idiot for not having considered that fact you walked back through the hallway in embarrassment in the direction of the common room, from where laughter, shouting and anything else that involved a group of boys with beer bottles around them was emanating. When you appeared through the door frame there was little time for your presence to be noticed.

"What have we got here?!"

"Oh my god, is this my birthday present?"

"Shut your mouths you idiots!" James stood up from his seat and walked towards you, with a subtle wobble in his body and his eyes completely rolled back in his head. "Is it time already?"

"It's actually been forty minutes," your arms were still crossed preventing his body from approaching yours. You could smell the stench of beer all over him, even his shirt was stained with a few drops.

"All right, all right," he said abandoning the bottle on a bookshelf. "Let's go."

Unable to hold on, and under the watchful eyes and laughter of his companions he offered you his arm, but lost his balance and fell to the ground, right at your feet. You took a deep breath and began to let it out very slowly, but you barely flinched, you couldn't believe what was happening to you at that moment. James tried to get up as best he could and stood back up in front of you, pulling his shirt back on.

"Come on," he made a second attempt.

"No, no James," you said in the most serious tone you could rescue from your broken insides. "I'm not going anywhere with you. But you know what, I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up. So I'm going to take advantage of the reserve we have." You uncrossed your arms for the first time and pointed your finger at him. "Ah! And in case you haven't made it clear, it's over between us."

The cheers went up like you'd just scored a touchdown in the middle of the national finals, but you just kept your composure and got out of the place as quickly as possible. You were so pissed off about the situation, as well as yourself, that you felt the sting running through your veins. You asked yourself over and over again how you had been so stupid as to get into this situation, you, but you couldn't find a coherent answer. You assumed that smoke must be billowing from your head as you cut your way through the labyrinthine corridors to get out of the building as quickly as possible, but just around the corner the one person who could complicate things appeared.

"Hey!" he exclaimed behind you, picking up his pace and coming up beside you. "I was thinking, why go to dinner alone when you can have good company?"

You turned your head to the right, flashing him the most incoherently terrified look you could extract from yourself at the moment, but Tony didn't seem to care enough because even that didn't stop his grin from being wiped off his face.

"Are you kidding me?" your footsteps were rather light. "Oh, of course not! Do you really think I'll accept you coming to dinner with me?"

"Do you have someone better to go with?" his arrogance was pushing you over the edge.

"Of course! Me, alone," you said walking down the steps of the dorm and stepping outside.

"Really, by yourself on the most romantic night of the year, in a small Bistro in downtown Boston?" he said without breaking away from you. "That sounds really sad," he paused. "Do you have a car?"

"Welcome to the world, I don't need a man to go out to dinner whenever I feel like it and there are taxis," you walked as if you were going to miss the train of your life.

"Alright!" Tony definitely seemed to give up and fall in behind you, "See ya!"

You were so upset at the time that the only thing on your mind was to head for the campus taxi rank, and so you did. You were lucky that there were a couple of taxis waiting, so it didn't take you more than fifteen minutes to get to the door of the Bistro, located in the centre of Boston. The place was really charming to anyone's eyes, its round tables were perfectly placed to offer a cosy dinner to any of its diners. The candles offered that romantic air that anyone could want on that night of the year, and the aroma of traditional dishes was wafting from inside, whetting anyone's appetite.

You looked outside through the glass windows to see the couples who seemed to be enjoying a really lovely evening, it was at that moment that your spirited idea seemed to wane, for now it didn't seem to make much sense to go inside and dine completely alone under the watchful eyes of the waiters who wondered what had happened to put you in such a situation. The metre who stood at the door waiting to receive his customers watched you, for you were only a few feet away from him.

"Do you wish to wait inside, miss?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"No, I..." you shook your head as if to leave.

"I'm here baby," a hand took hold of your waist. "Sorry it took me so long, it's impossible to park in this area."

As you heard that voice and felt that hand on your waist you knew immediately who it was, caramel coloured eyes accompanied by a wide smile were looking at you right next to you, you were about to give him a push if it wasn't for the fact that that metre opened the access door to the place and the last thing you wanted was to make a scene in the middle of the street.

"Did you have a reservation?" asked the waiter, checking the list.

"Yes, under the name of James Barton," said Tony, barely letting you speak.

"By all means, follow me," he began walking among the diners arriving at a small round table just outside the window, where he didn't take a second to light the candle that adorned the table. "Will you have something to drink in the meantime?"

"Yes, what wine do you recommend?" his way of waving his hand embarrassed you, he seemed to want to pretend to be knowledgeable.

"Oh, we have a Château Montrose, which goes perfectly with the meat tastings," he informed her.

"Perfect," nodded Tony, opening the menu.

As quickly as the waiter left, your attitude changed, expressing all your feelings with your face.

"Are you crazy?" you whispered, leaning towards him so that no one else could hear you. "Do you have any idea what that wine might be worth? But more importantly, what the hell are you doing? What are you doing here? What is this?"

"Oh come on, you know if I hadn't come you'd be back in college right now, don't you?" he cocked his head to the side and smiled at you, "Besides, the wine and dinner is on me, just enjoy the night."

"Enjoy the night? With you? Really?" you frowned, it was unbelievable to you that this was happening, but at least he'd had the courtesy to ditch those rock band t-shirts he used to wear and that messy hair, he'd shown up in a white shirt and black peg trousers.

The wine soon arrived and you'd be lying if you said it didn't help the dinner go more smoothly, allowing you to chat like two normal people. You found it hard to let go of that stubborn attitude you have inside you, but when you managed to put it aside you came to discover that Tony could be a lot of fun, even if he didn't share your sense of humour. You spent two hours discovering similarities in each other and also many differences, but it was a fruitful conversation, for the candle that lit the centre of your table was gone. You surprised yourself by observing more than once the features of his face, his honey-coloured hazel eyes, his upturned nose, his full lips and the way he smiled that seemed to bring out your colours every time he did it. But you blamed it all on the bottle of wine you had finished between the two of you.

When they brought the bill he barely allowed you to look at it, as he deposited his american express and smiled proudly at you.

"How about now...?"

"Shall we go back to campus?" you cut him off by stepping outside with a smile you couldn't keep off your face and pink cheeks.

"Well, actually, I was thinking..."

"I'm exhausted," you cut him off again, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "Besides, we have a class first thing in the morning."

" Okay!" he exclaimed in a melodious tone shoving his hands into his pockets. "Then we'll go back to campus."

In three minutes you found yourself sitting inside a red Porsche, which was going at a speed well above what you were used to. From the speakers came the sound of the Australian rock band AC/DC, but without knowing why Tony stopped the music.

"What's wrong?" you asked looking at him quizzically.

"I thought you didn't like it," he shrugged. "You were very quiet."

"First of all, I was listening, I like it," you began, "and secondly, in case I didn't like it you don't have to indulge me, this isn't a date, or anything like that."

"All right," he gave a half-smile and turned the music back on. "So this isn't a date..."

You smiled quizzically at his last words, trying to assume that it had been the alcohol that had given you that little smile and not your subconscious that seemed rather pleased by the last two hours you had spent together. During the drive you couldn't help but laugh when you discovered his imitations of Angus Young, the lead guitarist of the band you were listening to. But the situation changed when the Porsche pulled up right in front of your dorm, but before you had even taken off your seatbelt your door was open and Tony's hand was waiting to help you out.

"Thank you..." you whispered a little reluctantly. "Oh, you don't need to come with me, I think it's rather late, so I'd better..."

" Okay," he nodded smiling, again that wry smile that you knew was going to cause you to either want to come along or not.

"Alright," you said giving up and walking towards the inside of the building. "Don't even think about making a sound."

"Please, I'm all grave," he said behind you as you walked up the stairs, but he didn't keep his word as a stumble caused the sound to bounce all over the stairwell.

"Tony..." you reproached him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he raised his hands in his defence.

Within a minute you had reached the door leading to your room and the awkward moment of saying goodbye was upon you, face to face.

"Okay, well... I guess thank you very much for... dinner and for walking me to the door," you nodded without knowing why in a slightly nervous tone.

"It's been my pleasure," he bowed, his voice sounding utterly confident, the opposite of yours.

"Great... so, I'll see you in class tomorrow," you rummaged through your bag to find your room key and when you had it in your hand and looked back up at him you discovered Tony's gesture biting his bottom lip, so your mouth let out, "or maybe..."

Why the hell had you blurted out those three words, 'Or maybe...' 'Or maybe what?' Your unconscious was working and coming alive in you, your inner self was saying that you didn't want to part with him so soon and that you couldn't wait for him to come into the room with you.

"Or maybe?" a half-smile came to life on his face, showing you part of his tongue running subtly across his upper lip that made your heart race. But finding that you didn't know what to say in that instant, he added, "Are you inviting me in?"

"I..." you looked a little hesitant, but found the courage to face the situation, "Only if... you feel like it."

There was a few moments of silence in which your wives seemed to be electrified.

"All right, but first I think you should know something," he added, breaking the moment of sexual tension that had built up. "The James rumours are true. I caught him and Nancy in our bedroom," he paused and tucked back a strand of hair that had come loose. "I should have told you before."

Why did you feel as if you knew deep down that this event was true? Maybe because it only took you three months of being with James to find out what he was really like, a total prick. But the funny thing is that when you took in those words, the sexual tension returned, making you forget everything he'd told you.

"Okay," you nodded with a blank stare, "So does that mean you don't want to come in?"

Again he made that arrogant smile present again that even as he brought his face close to yours to catch your lips did not disappear. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, crushing your body against the wooden door, preventing you from escaping from that place if you were planning to do so. It was really infuriating, to have his lips between yours and still feel the need to have him closer. You were so lost that the key slipped from your fingers, catching Tony's attention and he opted to pull away from you and bend down for it, you hated those seconds, but instantly you discovered his hands roaming the nakedness of your legs along with his lips rediscovering that new area.

"Come on Tony," you begged, resting your hand on the doorknob so as not to give in to his touch as it slowly crept up your thighs. "Open the door."

With a small nibble on the inside of your left thigh he pulled himself back up to your height to force your lips together as he tried his best to open the door as best he could in the dark. You felt the door offer you passage into a room dimly lit by the moonlight coming through the window. Tony closed the door behind you regardless of the noise he made in doing so.

" Damn it, Tony," you said, pulling away from him.

He took the opportunity to pull your dress up to your waist and wrap your legs around his waist to direct you towards your bed. The position is really intimate, but your head wasn't in the right place to dwell on it at the moment, there was practically nothing romantic about what was happening or what was going to happen in a few minutes. During the ride you opted to get rid of the black dress that seemed to be burning your skin by dropping it to the floor, revealing your naked body only covered by a pair of black panties.

"Shit. Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!" he exclaimed finding his gaze at the level of your breasts.

Tony's body collapsed on the mattress, unable to take his eyes off your body, he maintained an upright, seated position, straddling him. Your gazes connected, in your eyes there was nothing but tension and lust, the passion of two young university students who needed to let off steam as soon as possible. However, inside you both hid a sense of nervousness that you kept from coming out.

Although you'd had sex with James before, you weren't exactly an expert on the subject, but something inside you was working, making it seem like you had no problem with it. In Tony's case you had heard things, but you didn't know how much of it was true or not. Still, Tony's kisses trailing his mouth down your neck were methodical, the way he brushed his tongue, bit into your neck and finished by pressing a soft kiss seemed to transport you to paradise, just as it did him, as you could see it in the hardness forming between your folds. A moan escaped your lips causing your hips to move gently to feel more firmly what was hidden in his trousers.

"Oh, god, do that again," Tony uttered against your ear in a completely gnawed tone of voice.

As if it was a command you were incapable of refusing, you did it again. His hands gripped your thighs firmly and his lips lingered on your breasts for the first time, brushing his lower lip over your right nipple, letting his intense breathing fan it. Your back arched bringing your breasts closer against his mouth, likewise your fingers found themselves stirring his hair. Tony simply played with his tongue against you offering equal attention to both breasts, making sure it was pleasurable, and he assumed he was succeeding thanks to the sounds coming from inside you.

Your hips kept making circular motions pressing against him trying to relieve the need that had built up in your core. Tony seemed to feel the same need so he parted his lips from your breasts and made a sudden movement grabbing your waist and trying to flip you over on the bed, trying because in the process he caused your head to hit the bedside table next to the mattress.

"Shit!" he exclaimed with a surprised look on his face, but your reaction generating a giggle in you, calmed him down expressing a smile. "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay," you say finally taking the position he wanted, lying down on the bed and finding Tony's body on top of yours.

You feel his lips moving over your skin again as he undoes his shirt, uncovering every part of his back with your fingertips. Your whole body was being a mess, the path of his tongue was heading south, his fingertips formed circles around your navel and his mouth had a clear direction, you felt it when his fingers brushed the top of your panties. All you could do was keep your eyes closed with your head on the pillow, bite your lower lip to stop the curses coming from inside you and press your legs against each other.

"Open your legs," he whispered against your skin and then placed a kiss on your lower belly, making all your nerves want to explode. "I'll be gentle, promise."

You feel those words crash against your skin, and as if they were a switch they are able to make your legs open subtly giving way to the fabric of your underwear sliding down your thighs. Tony decides to take his time until he manages to extract them through your feet as he doesn't take his eyes off your completely naked body exposed before him. He slid his fingers around the inside of your legs to again run his lips up and down them so that his hands were free to free himself from your trousers.

"Do you have...?" he asked moving his kisses up your thighs.

"What...?" the word almost came as a plea from your lips.

"Condoms," he said against your skin.

Something in your brain clicked, bringing you back to consciousness in those moments, you lifted your head off the pillow and looked directly into Tony's eyes that were practically over your core in those moments.

"Are you telling me you don't have any condoms?" you asked with a frown, a little gruff at the situation you were in.

"Well, I wasn't really planning on ending the night like this," he lifted his face with a smile from between your thighs, but as he watched your head fall frustratingly against the pillow he added, "Okay honey, don't worry, I'll take care of everything."

As quickly as he uttered those words he managed to get your lower limbs onto his shoulders, meeting again between your thighs. That was the first time you discovered what lips on your clitoris felt like. Your frustration was fully replaced by pleasure, a pleasure that made every part of your body tremble. You really didn't know how you could have missed this for so long. Your hands were fixed on either side of your body gripping the sheet tightly, but there came a point when you couldn't let him pull away from you, so you curled your fingers in his hair. Right now you had Tony Stark kissing and licking your most intimate part and all you could think about was that his movements wouldn't stop.

"Please... Don't stop," you urged between moans, feeling two fingers thrust inside you at your words.

You find yourself in complete disbelief, you're a mess, and you can't help but open your eyes and look at the one causing the disaster, who just like you was a complete mess against your intimacy. That action, along with the speed of his movements inside you and his moans against you, causes all your senses to connect and decide that the time has come to explode. You drop your head back down onto the pillow, arching your back in an attempt to establish a closer connection with him. You're exhaling, screaming his name between your moans without thinking about who might hear you. He continues to consume you, sucking you in as he brings you to full orgasm. Your limbs slowly manage to steady their movements, until the euphoria inside you ends with a soft moan.

Tony subtly withdraws his fingers from inside you as he leaves his wet kisses around your thighs, searching for your gaze amidst the mess of sheets that existed around you at that moment. He finds himself climbing up your body, kissing every part of it gently until he reaches your face where he catches your lower lip between his teeth.

"I told you, I'll take care of everything," he added with a half-smile. "And I think I've managed to exceed expectations."

"It's possible," you kissed him again finding your breathing much calmer. "That means it's my turn now."

With more skill than he did, you were able to get his body underneath yours in an instant, causing his tongue to come out and lick his upper lip. It was obvious that he was tremendously proud of the job he had just done, thanks to how well you had let him know with your facial and guttural expressions. But now it was your moment, discovering that your needs had not yet been fully satisfied and that you had a burning need inside you to feel him in you. Your kisses moved from his lips to his neck, taking on the taste of his perfume. You exerted just enough pressure with your teeth to profess from his throat his sweet gasps that were filling you with madness.

The path of your kisses was present on his chest, which rose and fell because of his accelerated breathing. He was soft, sweat was present on him from the previous exertion, but you hardly thought that fact mattered to you. Your tongue had reached his lower abdomen with great skill, the evidence of which was that Tony had chosen to lose eye contact with your actions and now looked a complete mess biting his knuckles. If it had been any other time you would have enjoyed the scene in front of your eyes causing him to beg, but he had been so good to you and you were so eager to kiss what was hidden by his briefs that you wasted little time in sliding the fabric down his thighs and releasing his erection.

You had been in that situation only once before in your life, so you opted for a marked subtlety in bringing your lips to his tip and licking it clean of his pre-cum. Luckily for you the noises coming from Tony were a map for your movements. you just start by testing the ground, tasting it, feeling it deep in your throat.

"Don't stop, whatever you do. I like that, a lot," his hand wrapped through the strands of your hair as his gaze focused on you.

Those words ignite your movements, you circle his shaft with one hand, accompanying the movements, you find that it intensifies his panting and generates a slight movement in his hips that causes him to thrust his erection deeper against your throat. You bring your free hand to his hips instilling a show of confidence and acceptance of his thrusts, which causes Tony to increase his speed.

"Shit, I'm so close, keep going -," his frantic tone could barely finish the sentence.

You felt the hand disappear from your head allowing you to withdraw right then and there, but his desperation was also shared by you, and just as you had orgasmed against his lips as you couldn't hold him inside you wanted to feel him as much as possible. Throbbing moments later inside your throat, accompanied by curses accompanied by your name coming from inside Tony. His hand returned to its proper place, dropping subtly to your head, enticing you to follow his movements.

Your lewd movements stopped over time as you noticed his limbs returning to their normal function and his breathing resumed its normal rhythm. You withdrew, offering her a soft kiss on the tip, and connected your gaze with hers, which strangely seemed a little embarrassed.

"I hope the walls are thick," you commented with an arched eyebrow.

He merely took in your smiling face and intertwined his fingers with yours to bring you closer to his height. He placed your bodies sideways, intertwining your legs, and with his fingertips he wiped the droplets of saliva from around your lips.

"So... would you say I've exceeded expectations too?" you asked, caressing his bare arms.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly. "I need more than one round to find out."

His half-smile lifted again, in no doubt that that had been the best sexual experience he'd had to date, because not all rumours are true.

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[mighty-ragnarssons]

Knocked Up | Modern Vikings AU | Chapter II

Relationships | Modern Ivar x OC Warnings | some smut, a little angst, violence, harassement, teenage pregnancy

Keep up with the previous chapter here [chapter 1]

First of all let me thank you for the amazing support. You guys are the best! I hope you enjoy this one as well :)

You can read in AO3 as well (click here).

Chapter 2

Days passed and still no text. Ivar was tempted to drive by the apartment he’d left them at, but that would be crazy, right?  He should’ve never told her to use his number in case of emergency. What if that was why she didn’t contact him? Instead he tried to let it go although it wasn’t easy. He’d go to class in university, he’d party with his brothers, he’d smoke some things to keep his mind away, but nothing really worked. Once he was obsessed with something, that was it. 

It didn’t help at all when Hvitserk came home one day saying he’d seen Ivar’s girl.  

“What do you mean?”

“That girl from the other night. The one you’re so hung up on. The pretty blonde” Ivar had to stop himself from growling. Why couldn’t his brother just tell him already? Hvitserk was clearly amused at the whole situation. “I left the gym and went to try that new coffee shop downtown, know which one? Well, she’s an attendant there. And you know what, she looks really cute in an apron” Hvisterk teased, seeing how Ivar’s teeth clenched slightly. “Cute and nice. She offered me a coffee and a muffin, saying it was to thank me for the help. Damn fine muffins. I might have to go there again for one of those sweet things.” 

While Hvitserk daydreamed of muffins, Ivar was thinking about having them as an excuse to pass by the coffee shop. He couldn’t stay away and this was the perfect excuse.

“Did she tell you to visit again?” Ivar asked, taken aback for a moment. His older brother, much like the others, was the town’s heart breakers. Hvitserk’s pretty looks and dazzling smile could get him anyone he wanted. Perhaps he’d already bewitched the girl. 

“I guess so. She works there, isn’t she supposed to say that? ‘Have a nice day. Come again!’ I’m pretty sure she says it to everyone. But if what you are asking me is that I got her number or anything, the answer is no. I actually asked her out again but she didn’t take me seriously” Pretending to be hurt, he put his hand over his heart. “Perhaps she is not into Ragnarssons. Interesting, uh? There’s always a first”

Stupid Hvits, Ivar wanted to say. How could his brother go after the girl he clearly had staked a claim on? 

“Did she tell you her name?” This little detail was something he couldn’t stop wondering about.

“Now that I think about it, no, I don’t think so. I was too distracted by her pretty smile to ask about that” Well, now Hvisterk was really just trying to mess with his brothers “Tell me, little brother, will you crawl into that coffee shop right now?” he joked “Take my advice: lose the puppy face before going.”

“So funny I forgot I to laugh”

Hvitserk was wrong. Ivar didn’t crawl to the coffee shop right away that day, although he wanted to. Instead, trying to be rational, he waited a couple of days and decided to drop by after his classes in university. He could always pretend he went there to study, although that was something he rarely did. He just really wanted to see the girl again. She hadn’t left his thoughts since that night.

However, to his dismay, she wasn’t there. There were only two attendants and none were his  nameless girl. His heart sunk a little,  but disappointment was something he was used to. It no longer left a bitter taste to this mouth. He stayed, nevertheless. After a couple of hours working in his computer in the company of a whipped cream coffee and one of the famous muffins - his brother was right, they were a delicacy, he was finally willing to admit defeat. It’s not like he could even ask about her, not really given how her name was something he didn’t know yet. so, the afternoon definitely didn’t go as he had expected. 

Frustrated, he put his computer back in the bag and left the payment on the table. With the help of his crutches, Ivar stood and was on the way out, almost making it past the door but stopped seconds before the door opened, almost hitting him.

He would’ve been mad, but it was her coming in. 

“It’s like we can’t stop meeting like this” he chuckled. 

The blonde girl looked surprised. “I’m sorry. It seems I have a bad habit of bumping into you” 

Because there were clients trying to go through said door as well, both Ivar and the girl stepped outside. 

“You’re leaving?”

“And you’re just getting here  now?”

“I guess your brother told you I worked here”

“Well, yes. But I was just passing by. My university is just a couple of blocks away. I’ve been meaning to try out this since it opened and I needed to study” 

He regretted saying this almost immediately. Would she get the idea that he  was not interested in seeing her again? 

“I only work here after classes” she informed, while  mindlessly flipping her hair away from the side of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Ivar didn’t miss a single movement of hers, wishing he’d been the one doing that for her. 

What the fuck, Ivar? Focus, he was trying to tell himself. 

“It was nice to see you, Ivar. I don’t think I thank you enough the other night. You really helped us out. Not many would have done that” She smiled a little “I gotta go in or else I’ll be late for my shift” She moved closer to the coffee shop’s door. 

He didn’t want to see her go, though “Maybe we can meet one of these days?”

Looking conflicted, she bit her lip “Perhaps we'd better not" she said “It’s like I told your brother… I have a lot going on, with school and work and.. well, I’m sure you’re busy too” 

Ivar was shocked. Was she really dismissing him that quickly? He wasn’t one to take ‘no’ for an answer. “There’s always time if the company is good”

“You’re Ivar Lothbrok. One of the Ragnarssons”

That settled it. The first time he heard her saying his name, it sounded so good. This time? She was not as impressed, it seemed.  

“And so what? What stories have you heard that led you to believe I won’t be any good company?” his voice was raised and succeeded in making her feel uncomfortable. 

She shot him an apologetic look. “It doesn’t matter, Ivar. I’m sorry, I really have to go inside. Please, do know that I’m grateful for your help and I wished things were different”

“You just don’t want to hang out with a Ragnarsson, I get it” his accusatory tone made her flinch. Although his expression was carefully controlled, she saw in his eyes that her rejection stung. “Before you go, allow me at least to say a proper goodbye. I don’t know your name yet”

For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to tell him anyways. All of this was going terribly. But then she surprised him “My name is Eva.  Eva Jørgensen”

Bitterly, and before walking away, he proceeded  “Then I guess this is goodbye,  Eva Jørgensen. Have a nice life.” 

“Goodbye, Ivar Lothbrok”

Her rejection stung far more than he wanted to admit. It felt worse than his previous rejections, not just because of the blow to his ego, but more because he cared a little for her, had since the night he helped her in the club, and somewhat he’d been expecting things to go differently. How stupid he was feeling. 

It didn’t take long for his ill temper to grow as he drove back home. Finding out that a party was taking place in the Lothbrok home didn't improve much of his mood, either. Moving through the crowd of people into the living room, he saw Sigurd playing DJ in a corner, looking high as fuck by the looks of his attempted dance moves. Not far from him was Hvitserk surrounded by a bunch of ladies. Ivar recognised many of the faces among the more than a hundred people. 

“Brother” Ubbe showed up behind him. He was still in his business attire, looking completely out of place from the rave “Sigurd claimed we need to make use of the house before our father comes back. Texted everyone we knew.” he explained, opening a beer can. Only then he noticed his little brother’s somber expression. “What’s eating you? You look like you could use a drink”

“I sure do. Actually… You wouldn’t happen to have any pills with you? In your personal stash”

“Ivar… I’m not sure that’s a good idea”

“C’mon, don’t be a killjoy” 

“Is it for the pain?” Ubbe asked, but reckoning it wouldn’t be. Ivar’s eyes were not the strongest shade of blue like they used to be when he’s suffering more than usual. 

“Ubbe, will you fucking give me some or not?” he snarled.

“Look, I don’t have any at the moment. Maybe Hvitty does, but he looks like he’s already under the influence of them. Why don’t you just come out to the terrace, drink something and chill? I’m sure your shitty day will get better if you stop being so grumpy” 

“Spare me the bullshit. I’m out of here” 

Holding tight to his crutches, Ivar went to his room. It was the only room on the ground floor so the blasting music could still be heard from it. In need of releasing some steam, he took the matters to the gym they had on the basement floor, also known as the man cave. Getting one beer from the bar they kept down there, he decided to throw punches on the boxing bag, which he could only do from a seating position. When beers were no longer satisfying him, he took it to the bottle of vodka. Ivar just wanted to have his mind distracted from the beautiful Eva.

At some point, when his sight was already blurry and he had collapsed on a red couch, he thought he was imagining things for he’d swear there was a girl who was making her way to him. He tried to blink but his vision wouldn't get any better (no doubt too much alcohol and physical pain had taken over him). The world slightly dark around him, Ivar felt a set of hands pulling his t-shirt, then pressing onto his sweaty torso first, then down towards his pants.  The next thing he feels is his lower lip being bitten. At the metallic taste of blood, he regained consciousness just a bit, but enough to discern the blonde girl who now had her hand inside his pants. 

“Margrethe, don’t fucking play games with me” he said dangerously. 

Margrethe only continued to look mockingly into his blue eyes. “So vulnerable and at my mercy, Ivar. Still, you don’t get it up, do you? Why do I even bother?” A mean laugh rose from her throat “Ubbe said you need some cheering. I guess I felt sorry for the poor little Boneless”

Something snapped in him.  His ungovernable temper got the best of him. With the accumulated irritation of the day upon him, he suddenly grabbed her arm and forced it off of him. Muttering between his teeth, he warned “We 'll see about who’s at mercy here”. He could be a crippled, but he was not weak by any means. His hand was not on her neck so hard that Margrethe fell back against the couch, and stayed there with her hands spread out against him, trying to get off his grip. 

“IVAR! What the fuck are you doing?” 

Suddenly Hvitserk was pulling him away, making Ivar collapse on the floor. Margrethe jumped to the blonde brother’s arms in no time. 

"He's crazy. He’s absolutely mad!”  She whined, burying her face in Hvitserk’s chest. “Take me out of here” 

To complete the party, the rest of the brothers showed up as well, all of them taking Hvitserk’s side and looking down on their cripledl brother. Their looks were one that Ivar had spent his whole life loathing: one of pity and superiority. 

“You’re drunk, man. Crawl back to your room, cripple” 

It was Sigurd speaking, of course. Margrethe was his favorite. Ubbe simply shot him a disappointed stare before the four of them returned to the party.  

Ivar stood on the floor laughing hysterically until he realized what he had done. It didn’t matter that Margrethe was not a saint. She loved to miserly tease him just so she could humiliate him next. It still didn’t give him the right to go against a woman, though.  Shame poured over him.

Alone on the cold floor of the basement, a single tear ran down his cheek. What a fucking miserable day.

The following days were no better. His brothers were giving him a silent treatment since the party. Sigurd could barely look at him without snorting. And without his brothers Ivar really didn’t have anyone close, not really caring for his colleagues at university. 

There was one person. Floki, the oldest friend of his father Ragnar and Ivar’s mentor. 

Ivar dropped by the bay where Floki had his workshop, where he worked on the sailing boats that had coined him the best boat builder in all of Norway. He now ran a successful company called North Sails. Usually Ivar would go spend his afternoons there and would even help a bit, but his mind wasn’t in the right place at the time and Floki kindly dismissed him after Ivar almost ruined a custom-made pine wood deck by spraying the wrong product. 

For the most part of the week he had been lonely, which wasn’t something new, but it still bothered him. To pass the time, he worked out more and even went to all his classes and not skip some as usual, but none of that really helped. So that late October afternoon he had resigned to spend it indoors, playing playstation, which was something he usually delighted in beating his brother at, but not this time as he was by himself.

Until his phone beeped. At first, Ivar didn’t pay much attention, but then another text message flashed his screen and a word caught his eyes. Eva. 

He immediately grabbed the phone, sliding into the messages from the unknown number which read: 

‘Sorry to bother, but I don’t know who else to ask for help. Can you come to the coffee shop? Asap’

‘It’s Eva’

Less than fifteen minutes and many crossed red lights later, Ivar parked his SUV right in front of the coffee shop, not minding it was a forbidden parking area. Although it was past the normal closing time, the lights were on, yet the door was closed. On a normal week night, the street wasn’t as busy as during the day, and but a couple of guys in a corner, it was all empty. 

Ivar first tried to look inside, then knocked. He was worried, wondering what help Eva needed. Was she in trouble? Was she hurt? Ivar surprised himself by figuring out that all the grudge he was holding against her was gone, completely replaced with worry.

He let out a  sigh of relief when she came up from behind the counter and came to open the door, allowing him inside. The look of relief in her face did not escape him. “Thank you for coming, especially after the last time we..uh...met”

“What’s going on? What’s the matter?”

“This might be silly, and I’m sorry for making you come all the way here, you did tell me to contact in case of an emergency and this might not be one and I’m sorry  -” 

He cut off her nervous rambling “Eva, just tell me” 

“My stupid boss went to watch a football game and left me the keys to close up the space, even if it was not on my schedule. Some guys dropped by. It was really difficult to get them to pay and leave. But they're not gone. When I tried to step outside and wait at the bus stop, they started coming my way and calling out. I rushed back here and locked myself. I was so nervous I texted you. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking”

“Don’t apologize.” His jaw clenched. His face hardened, and he started to rise with a hint of violence “Stay here” He commanded before turning his back on her and walking out of the coffee shop.

“Ivar, what are you going to do!”

“Damn, Eva, stay inside”

But she wouldn’t and followed him into the alley. Ivar actually recognised the four guys propped against the wall, acting all tough. The Ragarnasson stood his ground, not feeling nor looking the least intimidated for being outnumbered. 

“Nothing to do tonight, boys? You can always go home and catch up with the last episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians instead of creeping out here” he gritted through his teeth.

“Who do you think you are?” one of them stood to face Ivar. 

“Oh, the brave one of the group, no? Get your asses out of here before I make you regret coming” Ivar warned seriously. 

“You think I’m afraid of you, cripple?”

Don’t say I didn’t tell you so, Ivar thought before head-butting the guy in the nose. The scumbag immediately fell to the ground, dazed. Ivar stomped his crutch over his chest.

“If you ever come near her or the coffee shop again, I'm going to break the rest of your face. And after I do that, I promise I'll break every bone in your body, one by one. Trust me, I know how much it hurts to have your bones broken. You don’t want that happening” He lifted his foot a fraction and the guy whimpered “You know who I am. I am Ivar Lothbrok. I might break a bone, but I can never break a promise. Do you follow me?” 

After Ivar let him, the guy rolled over. He seemed scared enough, his hands covering the bloody nose. The guys were looking at Ivar like he was mad and that scared them enough to leave as soon as they helped their friend get up. 

When they were finally alone, Ivar turned back to face Eva, thinking he probably scared her off as well. Yet there she was and the next second he knew, Eva launched herself at him, giving him an unexpected firm hug. He definitely hadn't seen that coming. 

“Thank you” As she stepped back, she looked a little embarrassed as if realising a boundary had been crossed “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot” She blushed. “I’m glad you texted me”

“I didn't know who else to text… I don’t know many people in this city yet.”

“Do these guys hang around here much?”

“Sometimes” she bit her lip nervously. “Tonight was the first time they tried  to come for me. I usually don’t do night shifts alone” 

For a moment he wondered what could’ve happened. Anger build up within him, making him wish he’d beat the crap out of those stupid guys. 

“I don’t think they’ll try again. If they do, they’ll have to do deal with me”

“Again,  I really do not know how to thank you enough, Ivar”

“It was no trouble” he replied, with a smile that made him look more handsome than ever, or so she thought. 

“It was trouble. Are you hurt?” Again, without thinking, she came closer to him inspecting concernedly “Are you hurt? You head butted that guy strong” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry”

“Well, I am worried. Let me at least give you some ice”

He followed her inside and sat waiting for her to return with a bag of ice. The inside of the coffee shop was welcomingly warm in sharp contrast to how cold he didn’t realize was outside. “Lean back” she instructed and he followed suit, putting his head back. Eva had to stand so close to him that her body touched his as she placed the ice bag gently on the swelling of his chin. She bent over him, her lips puckered in serious concentration as she tried not to hurt him. Other than his mother, no one had ever been so gentle with him before. Gradually as he takes in her closeness, he smells her perfume, surprised that it is  something spicy, sweet and lovely altogether. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen” 

“This is nothing. I grew up the youngest of many brothers. Can you imagine how many times we wrestled while growing up?” 

She smiled, causing him to do so as well. After how he treated her the last time they met, he thought she wouldn’t feel comfortable with him again, but it didn’t feel that way. He felt...at ease with her. Just like he did when they had first met. 

Eventually, as Eva released the ice bag, their distance grew a bit. Ivar had to keep himself from growling in disappointment. 

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed after looking at the time and jumping to grab her things “The last bus just went by. Fuck!” 

“Let me drive you home. There’s no way I was going to let you wait for another bus anyways”

“I don’t want to cause you trouble anymore. You already had quite a share”

“Don’t be silly. I won’t take no for an answer”

Driving her home took longer than he imagined. She lived almost out of town, which made him figure it would be around forty minutes by bus. Driving took a little less time. Time which they did mostly in silence, although it looked as both wanted to start a conversation without really knowing how. 

“You can drop me off here”

“Are you sure?”  There didn't seem to be many houses there, mostly warehouses and shops. 

“Yes, I live nearby.”

“I can drop you off at your doorstep”  She seemed troubled which made him guess “You don’t want to be seen with me”

“It’s complicated, Ivar”

“You said that last time” he snorted, disappointed once again.

“You’re right. I did.”

“You have a look on your face that tells me you’re about to say sorry again”

“Well, I was. I am.” How had he read her so easily? “I wish I could explain it better. I can get in trouble if my family realizes something happened and that I took your ride. That is all. Ivar, I really owe you thanks for your help” her hand reached his instinctively. Eva looked up at him with a thankful gaze before getting out of the car. 

He watched as she disappeared in the distance and drove off afterwards, not knowing how to feel about all of this. He had wanted to talk to her, learn more about her, ask her what was going on and on what terms they were on. He wanted to ask her if she’d text him again. 

He wanted to tell her he wanted her to.

To his amazement, she did. Text him, that is. He was already in bed when his phone bipped. 

‘I really thank you, especially for helping me out twice already. I promise trouble doesn’t usually follow me so often… I also want to apologize for the way I approached you at the beginning. I'm sorry about that. Let me know how I can make it up to you. Good dreams, Ivar.’

That night he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Tags: @adrille88 @istorkyou @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius​

 If you’d like to be addded or removed from the tag list at any given time, please, message me to let me know*

[twstdreams]

A Bouquet to Share: Flower Foraging

CYOA: Chronic Hanahaki AU

Length: 2K | ao3 link

Warnings: fluff, mentions of flu/cold

next

You’re waiting in front of the mirror for your turn to pass, behind the infamous first years. No one in NRC isn’t aware of the prefect and their friends, mostly how they perpetually get themselves in all sorts of trouble. 

“Hey, wasn’t the prefect going to be in our group?” Jack asks

“Oh, they couldn’t make it because they got sick,” Deuce answers. There’s a pause as the unasked question lingers in the air. If they’re just suffering from a passing virus or if it’s that illness.

“With a normal cold,” Ace clarifies, “Grim’s been complaining about having to take care of them.”

You think you’ve heard ten different iterations of this conversation before. Some with Octa A-kun, another with a Pomefiore duo, the same rumours and inquiries always start flying when winter is broken by spring’s warm touch. Everyone wants to know who has hanahaki and chronic sufferers are always the first suspect. People attempt to deduce who’s sick because of pollen or because of the flowers blooming in their lungs. It’s not a lethal disease with modern magic and technology, but you swear enough drama follows it to make up for the lack of imminent doom.

“Hand!” the ghost before you demands once you’re at the front of the line. You offer the back of your hand and immediately a rose is stamped on it, proof that you’re a student who has access to the Great Seven botanical gardens. Then you step through the mirror and are greeted by the site of a massive glass structure. You’re excited to explore the grounds. Each area is its own biome with unique flora and fauna which flourish in that environment. Personally, you’re hoping to see the aquatics section for fun, but you need to ensure that you complete your assignment first.

“Meet each other in the tropical region in two hours!” you text to Jamil and he responds with an affirmation. You two had already agreed to this prior to the project. Most people are wandering the gardens with their partner, but you know Jamil has his hands full with Kalim. You just hope Jamil will actually get to appreciate a couple flowers too.

Officially, the headmaster says this is a field trip for all grades because botany is useful in several fields of magic. You think it’s because a massive amount of students visiting from a prestigious school gets him some sort of discount, but those aren’t thoughts you voice out loud. Not that you care, the Great Seven Botanical gardens hosts some unique and deadly plants, even more so than the poisonous flowers allowed to bloom on campus. You can't choose a lot of them for your assignment but nothing is stopping you from visiting them if you have extra time. Plus, activities amongst different classes aren’t that common, let alone those in various years. If you’re lucky, you might see Malleus amongst the flowers.

You’ve only met Malleus at night, on late walks while perhaps avoiding a guard or two. The daffodils at the entrance remind you of your first meeting with Malleus. But you can’t recall clearly, was there only one daffodil at the spot where you met or several?

-

Staying up late the night before to cram for a test, only to crash and take a nap afterwards completely messed up your sleep schedule. No amount of staring at your ceiling was going to make you drowsy. Besides, you want to explore the campus and check out some night-blooming flowers. You spotted several during the day but hadn’t gotten the chance to see them underneath the moonlight. 

You slip out of your dorm to enjoy the slight breeze and fresh air entering your lungs. Exploring the campus at night feels a little liminal. Not to say that it was silent, some nocturnal familiars scurry around, a ghost or two floating, and more than a couple of students here and there creating background noise. But it's interesting to see a campus normally overflowing with life morph into something restful and quiet. The closer you get to the Ramshackle dorm, the more this effect becomes more pronounced.

You spot plenty of random vegetation growing on the lawns of the dorm. You’d be willing to bet a week’s worth of lunches that dorm hasn’t had real maintenance for at least a decade. Horrid for the prefect living there, you really do feel bad for them, but lots of fun for your midnight flower foraging trip. Your phone battery is dying fast with the flashlight so you test out a new spell you’ve recently learned. You murmur the incantation and a ball of light forms in the palm of your hand. You try to extend it so it acts as a familiar but the light begins to flicker so you’re stuck with having it illuminate the area around your hand. A little testing, a failure or two, and you’re able to create a soft light to guide you. Your hand is nothing but a glorified flashlight, but you can see your surroundings so it’s not a total fail. Unfortunately, what you thought was some pretty evening primrose is actually daffodils.

“How odd. You’re not one of the Ramshackle inhabitants,” a voice notes. You’re certain a ghost has come to lecture you, but you let out a gasp when you realize a living being is behind you.

“I’m, uh, yeah I don’t live here,” you admit, “Just wanted some fresh air. I couldn’t sleep.” You were honestly hoping to avoid all dorm leaders, you know some don’t take kindly to students leaving their dorm after hours, and you think some greater force must be laughing at you because somehow you’ve stumbled upon the most mysterious and powerful one.

“And you came to this abandoned building to do that?” His voice is even. You’re not sure if there’s an accusation laced in his statement or if his regal airs just make him always seem confident and a bit unfriendly.

“I thought it’d be cool to see the night-blooming flowers too,” you add, “There’s supposed to be some evening primrose and moonflowers beneath a gargoyle but I can’t figure out which one it is.” 

“I can introduce you to the correct gargoyle,” Malleus comments. Your head, which is frantically processing information and doing its best to be logical, tells you that’s probably a social cue to ask him to show you where the gargoyle is. Your mind, however, is still trying to comprehend how the heck you ended up meeting the Malleus Draconia on a weedy lawn.

“I am part of the gargoyle appreciation society,” he continues but the way his lips were pressed into a thin line indicates that you’ve spent a little too long coming up with a response.

“Oh! That’s impressive,”—now isn’t a good time to admit you didn’t know that club existed—“if you don’t mind, then I’d really appreciate it!” He nods once in acknowledgement and you begin trailing after the dragon fae. 

“Do you know about each of the gargoyles?” you ask; you ought to express interest in his passions when he’s doing you a favour. You’re not sure what to expect, but it was most definitely not an encyclopedic infodump about Ramshackle’s gargoyles.

“This is the first gargoyle, located on the entrance to the east building. Are you able to see it?” Before you had a chance to answer, Malleus casts a spell of light that creates fake fireflies which illuminate your surroundings. 

“Now I can. It kind of looks like a crow,” you answer. The gargoyle is easy to see but you think Malleus’ elegant magic is more beautiful. Your lightbulb of a hand is almost embarrassing and you quickly stop the spell.

“It is a crow, which is extremely rare for a gargoyle. This is the only one I’ve ever seen. Its quality means it must have been made by a famous craftsman. It looks like it could take flight at any moment.” He goes on about the history of the gargoyles here; you’ve never really been interested in them but the way Malleus talks about them with such excitement makes you engaged. It’s the way that extensive knowledge is intertwined with informed hypotheses while the excitement in his tone never leaves. Hearing Malleus talk about something he loves feels enchanting and endearing. His bubbling enthusiasm is cute.

“This is the gargoyle with the evening primrose and moonflowers,” Malleus announces. Once he finishes his little spiel about its history, you begin to take pictures of the flowers. You want to ask if you can take a picture of him; there’s something so odd about this experience that you want a picture to prove it is real. However, the fresh air has awaken your brain cells and they let you know that perhaps asking someone you just met for a photo in the dead of night is not the best idea. But well, Malleus has been pretty accommodating so you decide to ask for another favour.

“If you don’t mind, could you teach me that light spell?” you inquire. The surprise is evident in his expression and you wonder if you’re being too selfish.

“Is that so? You want me to help you with your spell? Interesting,” he comments and honestly, the pause makes you so nervous you regret ever opening your mouth, “Very well. Show me what you can do.” Even though you're the one who asked, you're a little surprised that the Malleus Draconia has agreed to some impromptu tutoring.

“I can summon a light but I’m having trouble making it steady after it stops making contact with my body,” you explain while taking out your wand. You murmur the incantation and a soft light envelopes your hand while illuminating your surroundings. As the light starts to float away, its shape begins to morph and looks like a blob of light which never stays a consistent shape, akin to a lava lamp. 

“You have enough magic to power the spell. The changing shape suggests that you’re having trouble imagining the outcome,” Malleus sumrises, “Why don’t you try mimicking the shape of mine?” Malleus adjusts the shape of his firefly lights into simple spheres. Unfortunately, it does not go so smoothly for you. First the light looks like a balloon, then it shrinks to the size of a marble, but when you have it at a reasonable size then the edges of the ball begin to quiver.

“I’m sorry it’s taking me so long,” you mutter. Sure, you don’t expect to be on the same level as someone as infamous as the Diasomnia dorm leader, but this feels embarrassing.

“You aren’t expected to master everything at the beginning. Don’t be shy,” he reassures. His comforting words encourage you to calm down. You take in a deep breath and start again. The light transforms into a uniform sphere—your own little sun for this corner of the world the two of you are tucked away in.

“I did it!” you exclaim, “It’s all thanks to your advice!” You toss the light between your hands before extending it to float beside Malleus’.

“You already completed the basics. I only offered some advice,” he gently protests but a smile remains on his face all the same.

“What’s the incantation to change its colour again?” you ask, and Malleus says it aloud for you to repeat. You alter your spell, dying it in your favourite colour, then allow it to dance in the sky. His luminescent green light merges with yours, and the spells twine with each other.

-

Since then you’ve taken to late-night walks for exercise and hopes of meeting Malleus. You haven’t exactly been charming—

“Are you here to admire gargoyles?” Malleus inquires when the two of you meet in the dead of night yet again.

“No, but I can,” you offer. Admitting to the ruler of the valley of thorns that you have been wandering around at night to see him again because you’re very intrigued and a little enamoured is not ideal. Luckily Malleus never questions your intent.

— but the two of you are on friendly terms now. So far no flowers were blooming in your lungs, but you’d be lying if you said a crush wasn’t taking root in your heart. But before you could linger on any hypothetical flowers, you have to pick an actual flower for your assignment! As a second year, you will have to grow whichever flower you pick back at school. 

Which flower will you choose? Vote here

White and pink carnations

Crimson astilbe (feather flowers)

Purple snapdragons

Orange tiger lilies

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Two

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

You're apprehensive the first few days. Peering over your shoulder when you walk through the halls of the Duke's estate. You often find yourself fiddling with the only real possession you have remaining from the entire ordeal - a silver locket given to you by your mother, it hasn't stood the test of time, it's littered in small scratches and it's clearly seen better days. Neither does it shine the way it used to but you need it to feel at ease.

Currently, sitting in the estate's library you attempt to focus on reading the book in front of you. It details the life of an orphaned child, the rest of the plot is a blur to you as this task is not done with the intent of enjoying the literature but with the purpose of distracting yourself.

You've been avoiding Duke Ackerman for days on end now. He's made the occasional visit to your quarters, always politely asks if he's permitted to speak to you - allowed to take even a second of your precious time. You decline every single request, your excuses range from "I'm feeling particularly ill today." to"I would like to rest early.", He never inquires after you've responded. You do however find he communicates in a variety of different ways ; Meals of the finest standard, A luxurious place to live, the maids also offer you the opportunity to venture out into the beautiful gardens but you know he's asked them to do so.

Quite frankly, you're still petrified and are unable to fathom what happened that fateful day, you had never been one to put much faith in God especially after all he had put you through, but maybe there was a God or a higher being or a somebody who helped you in your moment of despair.

Eyes darting from your page to the door of the library, you swear you see the door knob twist and you hastily double take. Nothing looks out of the ordinary so you allow yourself to shake it off. Your eyes droop shut as you knead your shoulders attempting to relieve some of the tension you feel. Recently, you find it to be an ordinary occurrence for your muscles to seize at the worst possible opportunities.

"May I speak to you?" A beaming voice enters the room from behind you but never had such a cheerful voice made you freeze in fright. It's him.

At his appearance you begin to think of all sorts of scenarios and outcomes but the specific thought you've been actively ignoring slyly slips into view. What if the spell weakens?

Fate is an ever changing entity, one minute it may be in your favour, the next... you'd rather not delve any deeper into that alternative.

Jumping to your feet you don't look in his direction trying to keep the contact you have with him minimal.

He audibly huffs and just as you're about to scurry away he speaks again. "Halt your movements."

Something about his voice beckons you to do so and you anxiously face him.

"Did I come off too bold?" The expression he makes is unlike any other you've seen from him before. His eyes twinkle and it looks as if he's holding his breathe expectantly. It's almost comical how different he looks and you can't stop your cheeks from flushing. He's quite adorable under this spell.

But then a flashback is presented to you. The anger in his eyes, the cold feeling of his sword, if he were any closer he would have been swiftly slicing your neck open. Y/N, you were seconds away from becoming a corpse you remind yourself fiercely.

"I'm not doing very well at courting you, Am I?" He frowns as he asks but he's not upset, perhaps disappointed.

Looking at the floor you hear him bombard you with even more questions, he's crowding around you now like a swarm of bees - somehow he manages the job of an entire hive on his own. No one has ever taken such an interest in you.

Your conscience tells you that you will regret this later on down the line, it tells you this will come back and bite you incredibly hard, you will regret being so ignorant and trusting yet you yield. Is it so wrong for you to consider feeling affection? When the Duke snaps out of this spell he will promptly execute you and you're aware of that fact, so what reason is there to cower away in fear?

For all your life you have never experienced the true feeling of love. You had mother's maternal love, which hadn't lasted very long at all. Never would you have any other opportunity to experience the romantic intimate kind involving a significant other. If you were to die you may as well play the role of his wife for as long as this spell wills it. Perhaps he'll receive his memories back so late he forgets or simply no longer cares. Part of you hopes he doesn't remember at all.

"Would you like to..." you pause already regretting what you're doing but before you can continue the Duke cuts you off.

"Have tea together? Explore the gardens together?"

What really sticks out to you most is how he casually emphasizes the word together. He really doesn't care what activity you engage in as long as it's with him. You feel your heart twist in your chest. This is dangerous.

He's eager, leaning forward with wide eyes. It feels odd having someone care about your input, even more odd seeing that person smile at you with the same spirit of an elated child. It's bittersweet knowing his true character.

"Let's have some tea."

A few months have passed since then. Surprisingly you're still alive and the spell shows no signs of wearing away any time soon.

After the raid at your palace he's been nothing but sweet towards you. At first many people were against him courting you and a handful of his advisors attempted to steer his sights away due to suspicions and speculation that you were a "sinful witch" who had manipulated or even seduced him.

The day he had heard those rumors he caused an uproar and had fired the royal advisor who spread them around. "Impertinent fools have the audacity to make such comments about my Duchess." You would usually add in you were not worth such respect considering you were not officially a Duchess but the fiery blaze in his eyes had stopped you.

"Hey Lev, lets go have some tea they've learnt their lesson." You shot the gossiping maids a sympathetic look.

Being under the spell does not make him more tolerable towards other people is what you learnt that day.

Multiple women all with visuals worlds more appealing than your own approach him, some even sent by his advisors to set you up. They test if his love is strong enough to withstand the attacks of others. Time and time again he proves everyone wrong and doesn't think for a second to give up on you.

You're glad for that because through these few months you've ascertained how much you love the Duke for who he is. Well, who he's acting as. You want to slam your head against a concrete wall repeatedly when you think about the level of affection and tenderness you hold towards the man but you can not lie and say you hate him.

The fact that before meeting him you lived a life lacking of love and affection does not help your case either. It only makes it harder.

But it's painfully obvious to you that this is all truly one sided. You aren't really in love with the Duke but you're in love with the magic holding him hostage.

You share these thoughts to yourself as you take a short sip from your tea cup. Sasha has left the room to fetch some pastries and sweets. She takes her job seriously as head maid (you never address her as such because really she's just a friend to you). It's a chilly day hence why you've covered yourself up in a shawl, it coincidentally matches the beige drapes.

Suddenly a boy who you recognize to be one of the young apprentices by the name of Eren bursts through the doors of your tea room. His hair is all over the place and he's panting as he tries to formulate a sentence.

"Duke." Puff. " Duke Ackerman" Puff. "Refuses to return to the Imperial Palace and is threatening the Emperor stating he won't return to his duties!"

You ignore it and try to keep to your own affairs because who are you to interfere in military business? It's looked down upon to involve yourself in such matters.

You send him off and in the mean time Sasha makes her way back.

A few minutes later as the both of you are munching on a particularly sweet macron the palace's butler bursts in the same way as Jaeger and tries to get a word in but Sasha manages to interject first.

"My lady, perhaps you should check in on the Duke." she suggests.

You try to speak but the Butler cuts in abruptly.

"Duchess. I'm afraid he hasn't ate a meal in five days. Please talk to him."

"Mike there is no need to call me a Duchess when I hold no such title...wait the Duke hasn't ate for five days???"

You find it unbelievable that Levi has forgotten to eat or possibly starved himself for something.

Making your way to his office you enter with a speech prepared about how eating is one of the blessings you've been given and how it should be appreciated but instead you're met face to face with a trail of rose petals that lead to the Duke.

You stare at him in confusion. He holds a bouquet of roses in his hands and they kiss his chest, He gives you a look of admiration that can only be described as the look that is reserved for your one true love. His eyes glimmer and they shine along with his glossy raven hair. You look him up and down in astonishment.

He's arranged all this for you.

"I'd do anything to have you be by my side for all of eternity. Will you honor me with the opportunity of taking your hand?"

Just looking at this entirely different version of the Duke, you feel relieved and in the moment you recklessly accept his proposal. You know it's stupid, you know it's ignorant, you know you should be denying him but you can't make yourself ignore the will of your heart.

"I hope to live a long life. One with you present." he whispers into the shell of your ear, it tingles.

After weeks of the Duke's courting you accept his marriage proposal and the both of you quietly wed two months later.

He's so kind and affectionate that you're plagued with nightmares where the spell wears off.

In your nightmares he continues what he left unfinished. Every time he's about to plunge his sword into the depths of your chest he wakes you up and caresses your face in between his large hands. He wraps his arms around you after some time. Once your breathing relaxes he asks what has made you cry and you can't do anything to explain. It only hurts more seeing his concerned expression. The way his eyes flick between your eyes and trembling lips, you want to tell him the truth, instead you state that you"had a nightmare, and don't wish to talk about it." You don't want him asking questions over it.

It's another Wednesday and you're pacing back and forth in front of his office door arguing with yourself about whether or not you should enter. Finally, you decide to make your entrance and peek inside. You hear him arguing with his advisors as normal.

"Instead of blithering like a idiot and making excuses why don't yo-" he's midway through his sentence when he sees you at the doorway.

Dropping the previous matter he rushes over towards you and scoops you up in his arms. Smiling up at you, you smile back sheepishly ignoring the stares of his staff.

"Honey, why did you leave me? Where did you go?" He whines into your neck and you try to push him away shyly but he won't budge.

Everyone around you grimaces at his usual mood swings as well as the heavy flirting that he's targeting at you.

"You haven't come to eat dinner with me for three nights. You're the workaholic who left me." You swiftly retort his point and you pout at the end of your sentence. He pouts back and you can see his cheeks are tinged a blushed pink.

"Then we must dine immediately, you should have informed me that I had made you feel so neglected, my darling!"

After making your way to the dining room you and Levi are conversing happily as per usual when you spot his highly agitated secretary Mikasa. It settles in that she's been standing there for a considerable amount of time, time flies when you and Levi speak. She's clearly waiting for him to report back to duty.

The first time you had met Mikasa she was highly suspicious of you and would keep an eye on your movements at all times (literally) , you thought she perhaps fancied the Duke but later learnt that she was related to him and that was probably why she was on edge at the appearance of a new individual. Besides all that she's sweet really, sometime she joins you and Sasha for tea and you happily converse. She isn't much of a talker, more of a listener which works out well considering how extroverted Sasha is and how you love to story tell. You've shared many fond memories with her.

That's why you place a hand on Levi's shoulder and interrupt him.

"Why don't you return to your work? It's about time I send you back now." You suggest but he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Why do you keep on trying to get rid of me? I want to stay for a little longer. After all you are my wife. You count as one of my duties. If not the most important duty of all!" He's about to break out into one of his embarrassing speeches and you want to save Mikasa from that.

"Mikasa really needs you to complete your other duties. Do it for me Lev." You try and butter him up with the mention of his nickname. As expected he perks up and stands up to leave, not before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Ah Lev, I'll be taking a short trip out today. Is that alright with you?"

You don't specify that 'out' means the Sunday Market place, he'll ask question after question.

He holds onto your chin with his thumb and leans in for a chaste kiss.

"Of course my darling. Be careful."

He giddily waves at you as he leaves and you wave back with the same enthusiasm. You giggle at the sight of Mikasa practically gagging at the two of you and glaring daggers at Levi.

The door then shuts and you're left alone.

All that accompanies you is silence and you purse your lips together trying to keep it together. Recently as soon as he turns away from you all you can think about is how this love of his is a hoax.

He doesn't really love you.

That doesn't stop all the sweet words he's ever uttered from flooding your memory.

"You're mine and I'm yours."

"My beautiful love."

"I love you I mean it." It hurts. He doesn't mean it.

But you'll keep the charade up. You'll find a way to keep him this way forever. It's selfish but you can't be blamed, It keeps you safe and happy.

Love is nice but you would prefer to live.

[twilight-deviant]

Masterpost of links to my FiskMatt Daredevil fics on AO3.

Includes title, word count, tl;dr summary, and full summary.

Bound by Choice (792 words) [kidnapping] Matt can leave at any time he chooses. Fisk made sure of it.

Choked Up (1532 words) [choking] Compelling to hold an enemy's life between his hands. Surprising to discover he likes it.

Half-Measures (1703 words) [parent angst] Fisk and Matt are capable of great feats, yet none of that can help them.

Compulsory Trust (4855 words) [f*ck-or-die] It was their own fault falling for the trap. The mad man had them right where he wanted, and there was nothing else to do but everything he said— for Vanessa.

Perfect Deceit (1877 words) [partner betrayal] Despite every odd, Matt was happy in a relationship with Fisk, and no one was more surprised about it than him.

Greater Than Nothing (1289 words) [sensory deprivation tank] The tank is driving Matt insane, and he will worship any sensation outside of it.

Take Care (1671 words) [deaf] The darkest truth can stay in Fisk's deepest thoughts: perhaps it was for the best.

Burning Breath (1724 words) [sick fic] Matt hated being sick. He hated being sick around someone who refused to not help him, but maybe he needed it.

Reborn to Die (1395 words) [obsession/plotting] Stuck inside the prison cell where Daredevil cast him, Fisk does not have much with which to occupy himself except thinking— and planning.

First Choice (2232 words) [mpreg/delivery] Matt told no one about the father of his child, including the father. He swiftly regretted that.

Underwater Coffin (1042 words) [trapped underwater] Fisk wanted Matt dead for his threats. He no longer cared how. Let him drown sealed inside a metal box.

Watch Me (2311 words) [tor-ture] Fisk ruined the lives of too many people for none of them to seek revenge, but they should have taken it out on him, not Matt.

Tight Rope (1325 words) [rope bond-age] Matt is slowly killing himself, and Fisk wants to watch.

Crushing Retribution (1101 words) [broken bones] When Fisk drops him, Matt is still alive. That is not the problem.

Something I Can Never Have (2554 words) [non con drug use] It felt too good to be real, but Matt was stronger than that.

Tracks (4914 words) [s-e-x work AU] Fisk is not interested in a relationship. He asks only for someone to fulfill those baser needs.

Something Wrong (1837 words) [mpreg/miscarriage] Matt believed in helping people. The dedication was a liability to his health, always had been. He never had so much on the line before.

Night Surgeon (1181 words) [non con vision restoration] If Matt wanted his sight back, he would have gone through with it himself.

Blood Sacrifice (3213 words) [vampire AU] Fisk did what was necessary to survive. He did not expect the Devil to barge into his life with an alternative.

Male of a Tail (2156 words) [mermaid AU] What they found defied the natural world, and Fisk was intent on keeping him.

Prison Breaks (2061 words) [prison] The man arraigned as Daredevil is in prison for his crimes. So is everyone he sent there.

His Priest (3229 words) [priest AU] He chose the church instead of law, and Fisk has a heavy soul to unburden upon him.

Auction Blocked (2805 words) [trafficking] Fisk did not have many rules in his organization, but there were still rules.

The Breakup (2901 words) [breakup] Nothing lasts forever, but their fleeting happiness should have had a better ending.

Shut Out (1963 words) [further senses stolen] Fisk took everything from Matt, and then he took more. He took away the world.

Almost Identical (1675 words) [twin AU/Mike Murdock] Fisk knew what he wanted and was almost satisfied settling for less— almost.

No Strings (1826 words) [a/b/o] They had a good arrangement, a horrible arrangement. Despite Fisk's wishes, Matt did not mean to turn it into something more.

Ill-Conceived (2940 words) [non con mpreg] That day in the prison, Fisk gave him more than a lesson on what happens to those who threaten Vanessa. Matt would forget none of it.

Playthings (2383 words) [tor-ture/death threats] Dex broke into the Presidential Hotel that night to kill Fisk, his wife, and Daredevil once he got in the way. He had no intentions of leaving his work unfinished.

Grave Secret (956 words) [character death] He wanted to kill the Man in the Mask, not the one behind it.

In Thrall to Royalty (1263 words) [OT3 with Vanessa] Vanessa wanted him as a wedding gift to them, and Fisk could never deny her.

[ot7always]

Forget-me-not

Word Count: 7.4k

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Village!AU. Angst. Seriously, it hurts.

Warnings: Mentions of war. Death, grief.

Rating: PG-15

Summary: As much as this had always been a possibility, you never thought that one day your best friend would actually be stolen from you. 

A/N: This fic is part of my 1k Milestone Requests that was picked randomly out of the pool of requests I got!! Thank you to the lovely @jinpanman​ for sending such an interesting request in!! When I started writing this I had just come off of writing so much fluff, so I thought: I guess it’s time to write ANGST and this physically hurt me fhkfldhgf 

--

“Y/N!” a voice called out loudly from downstairs, startling you enough to drop your sewing needle into the mess of fabric on your lap. Your sister had once again managed to tear one of her dresses running around doing whatever it was she did with the neighbour’s youngest son. Not that you could have boasted any more appropriate behaviour when you were her age.

“Just a moment, mother!” you responded, eyeing the damage. Truly, it wasn’t as bad as she made it sound when she came to you in a panic, dirt on her hands and tears on her cheeks. Surely it couldn’t take you more than a few minutes to fix.

“Come now, love! There’s a messenger from the capital outside!”

That had your brows furrowing instantly. A messenger? Here? Surely your relatively small, riverside village was of nearly no importance to the capital aside from paying the annual taxes.

“Coming!” you shouted, rising quickly and tossing the garment onto the chair behind you. The sewing could certainly wait, whereas the capital did not wait for anyone. It was possible the messenger had already started his spiel, and you were much too nosy a person to sit at home while something interesting was happening.

You slipped into your shoes quickly before rushing downstairs and out the door, hoping you still appeared as put together as you had that morning. Perhaps you should have thanked your mother before running full-speed toward the village’s centre, but it was much too late for that now.

When you arrived, a well-dressed man was already standing in the centre of a crowd, luckily only seeming to have just begun speaking.

“-sends his regards from the capital, but also his deepest apologies.”

Before you could ponder his words much, a sudden towering presence beside you stole your concentration for a moment.

Dark brown hair unruly, coat hastily done up, boots unlaced – how Kim Namjoon managed to make looking like a total mess a fashionable statement, you could never understand. But according to the whispers you heard as you went about your day, his unkempt, boyish manliness had stolen many ladies’ hearts in your little village. You would almost be annoyed, if not for the fact that he was so oblivious.

He shot a quick, dimpled smile your way, returned by one of your own before you both concentrated on the man’s speech once again.

“-army had taken a massive hit after the last war. As you know, that was only one year ago, and we have yet to recover properly after the close victory. And it appears that Reina is looking to take advantage of this.”

Reina. A country nearly 2 weeks away by horse, one who recently allied with Xenia through marriage, who your Kingdom’s army had barely defeated last year.

Unease settled over the crowd immediately. You grabbed for Namjoon’s arm instinctively, his hand raising to cover your own only a second later. This couldn’t possibly be what you thought it was, right?

“War appears to be imminent, and it can only be so much longer before tensions snap. We cannot let the Kingdom fall without a fight, and we are calling on all of our allies for assistance. But it is not enough.”

You sucked in a breath.

“The capital has decreed for all able-bodied man over 20 years of age to report for training and assignment. Women may volunteer to join the forces.”

Whispers and hushed cries of disbelief rang out through the crowd, but were quickly quieted by the continued announcements.

“You are expected to be in the capital within one weeks’ time. You may report to me for additional details. That is all.”

You turned to Namjoon with a helpless expression colouring your face, but the one on his was already one of resignation. Every man knew this could always be a possibility – hell, the same thing had happened only years ago for similar reasons, though that that time, your best friend had been too young to be conscripted.

But not this time.

“Namjoon-”

“It’ll be fine,” he cut in quickly, trying to quell the steadily rising despair taking over your features.

It seemed that the other men in the crowd felt the same sort of sad acceptance, hushing their daughters, wives, and friends in the same way.

As much as you might as joked to anyone who asked that Namjoon was nothing more than a nuisance, you hardly went a day without seeing him. His family home was only down the street – a fact you’d learned only days after you grew old enough to play with the other children on your own.

His tiny body had come barreling into your smaller one in a rush, sending your 6-year-old figure straight into a nearby bush. And as any young girl would do after having torn the new dress gifted to you only weeks earlier, to no fault of her own, you recalled throwing quite the tantrum.

You only saw more and more of him after he brought you to his home in a hurry, pushing you towards his mother in a wordless plea to fix whatever problem he caused. And so she mended your dress, urged you to return for tea the next day, and thus began your odd relationship with the clumsy boy.

You were not quite fast friends, your friendship with his mother developing much more quickly than any relationship with him. The younger you was quite adept at holding a grudge, and you didn’t dare forget that this was the boy that almost ruined your birthday present.

But, as children did, you got over it before long, especially after learning that you would be attending the same classes that same year. While a year older than you, an unfortunate illness had befallen him two years prior, holding him back several months.

After weeks of taking the exact same walk to and from school, you’d warmed up to the boy quite a bit. He liked to show you his strange collection of rocks, and in exchange you showed him your collection of fabrics you’d collected from old clothing and blankets over the years. The fact that you’d acted interested in each other's odd habits must have been a testament to your strengthening bond.

Spending your days with him became second nature over time, right up until he’d grown at least a head taller than you and become more man than boy.

You’d seen each other through almost all of life’s troubles; studying together in a harried panic, hurriedly throwing together gifts for birthdays you’d forgotten, and eventually cheering each other on in finding an occupation for yourself.

It must have been a surprise to the other villagefolk that it was you who had become the teacher, and not Namjoon, because it was him dazzling your teachers with grand speeches and uncanny wisdom for his age. Though they could not be surprised long, for it was Namjoon who spent many months of the year in neighbouring villages, and sometimes even the capital, studying to be a doctor.

There were few people in your village with the capabilities to study such a profession, but Namjoon excelled. He preferred not to boast of his abilities, but you heard frequently from your mother that many travellers sung his praises. Your best friend was a rare gem whose future appeared to span far beyond the tiny walls of your village.

Which was why you could not simply accept that he would go off to war, possibly never to be seen again.

“How can you be okay with this? How are you not panicking? Namjoon, I-”

You were unaware of your rising volume until steady hands settled on your shoulders, moving to shield you from the curious eyes now pointed in your direction. How could he possibly take care for your reputation when the country was asking him to give up his life?

“We always knew this might happen some day, Y/N. You know it as well as I do.” His words were firm, but his eyes spoke different words, pained words. Words that he could not say here, for to publicly voice his displeasure would not be taken well. Especially not when so many of the men around you had already gone to war and returned.

He was right that you knew this could happen – you would be a fool not to realize such a thing. Even your father had been lost to war when you were only a child, as is the reality for many children in your village. But did that make this any easier to bear? No person could say that preparing for a possible goodbye made the event any less gut wrenching.

“I’m worried for you,” you eventually whispered, head tipping back to stare into those eyes that had become a constant in your daily life, eyes that, one week from now, you might never see again. That thought sent a new wave of dread through your very being, a hole opening in your chest at the thought of Namjoon riding off, never to be seen again.

“Y/N,” he said, squeezing your shoulders in an attempt to pull you out of your head and back into this moment with him. “I need to speak with the messenger. Will you wait for me by the pond?”

You could only nod mutely, afraid that if you were to open your mouth, the only thing that would come out would be more words of displeasure.

“I’ll come as soon as I can okay?” he asked gently, voice filled with compassion. A part of you was ashamed that he was here comforting you when it was his life on the line.

When you didn’t make to move on your own, the hands still on your shoulders nudged you to turn around, further words of assurance falling from his lips.

It was as though you had been possessed. Your mind felt suddenly blank, your chest empty, your movements not your own. You hadn’t even realized you were approaching the pond near your home until the water was glistening right in front of you.

You stood as close to the water as one would dare, what with the notoriously slippery rocks at your feet. You stared at your reflection in the crystal-clear shallows before you, as though she could tell you how to deal with this situation. And as you watched your skirts sway gently in the spring breeze, you wondered if your eyes appeared as empty as your soul felt in this moment.

Being here only spurred up more shared memories. Summers spent playing in the water, digging up insects, even chasing each other over the wet rocks, much to the disdain of your mother.

Not only that – this place felt safe. It was where you came when you were upset, where you always were when Namjoon came looking for you to make things better. It was where you found him when he was contemplating whether he was fit to be a doctor, where you assured him that he was the most intelligent person you knew of.

Without even realizing it, you had begun digging up every good memory you had with Namjoon, as though to mourn them before you’ve even lost him.

It seemed that a part of you had already accepted the possibility of losing him forever, already accepted that as many memories as you had together, you might never have the chance to make any more.

But rather than sadness, sorrow – all you felt was a gaping emptiness within you as you stared, unblinking, unseeing, into the water before you.

Was something wrong with you, not to feel? Someone akin to family was about to be ripped away from you, yet your eyes were dry. Shouldn’t you be screaming, sobbing? Didn’t he deserve at least that?

“Y/N.”

You didn’t have the slightest idea how much time had passed before Namjoon was calling your name, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You turned slowly before meeting his eyes, the distance between you unusually large. He appeared as though he didn’t know what to do with himself, as though you hadn’t spent over 15 years at each other’s side. He looked to be brimming with words he wanted to say to you, but his eyes remained fixed on you, his mouth shut.

“So?” you managed to force out, voice sounding distant even to your own ears.

He only gave you a pained smile in response, closing the space between you and eventually sitting next to the place you stood. When he patted the ground at your feet, you joined him.

Minutes went by with both of you silent, gazes staring blankly across the water, as though failing to address the subject at hand would render it nonexistent.

However, patience was never your strong suit, and you could not hold your tongue any longer, even if you would only receive bad news in return. Though, it appeared Namjoon had the same idea.

“What-”

“I-”

As quickly as you had both opened your mouths, you had stopped talking. A slight smile finally cracked your stony expression as you met Namjoon’s eye, his expression sheepish, as though he could have known he was going to cut you off.

“You first,” you chuckled, tension seemingly broken as you watched Namjoon collect his thoughts.

“I spoke to the messenger...” he started, taking another breath as you acknowledged him with a low hum. “He told me I would be able to work with the doctors there.”

You perked up immediately at his words, hope blooming in your chest. “So you won’t have to fight?”

But the troubled expression on his face told you it wasn’t that simple.

“Not on the front-lines, but I’ll have to be close by. Wherever they decide to send me.”

“You’ll be in the camps.”

“Right.”

That coiling feeling in your gut returned. “And the camps get raided often.”

“Right,” he murmured. “I could...”

“You could die.” You cut him off with a whisper, turning your head away to hide your furrowed brows, nails digging into your forearm as though the physical pain could ease the burden in your heart. “How are you not more upset?”

“Part of me always expected for this day to come,” he sighed, hand drawing senseless patterns into the rocks at his feet. “As a man in a country at war, it’s like I was born just to die.”

“Don’t say that. Why do you accept your death so easily?” you forced out through gritted teeth, burying the sorrow in your chest that was creeping up your throat, threatening to burst at the seams. Did he value himself so lowly that it was so easy to throw his life away for his country?

“There’s nothing I can do about this, you know that,” he said lowly.

“I know,” you replied simply. You did. But that didn’t mean you could accept it so easily. You should have been more like him, should have expected that this might eventually happen to the two of you, but too much of you didn’t want to think about a reality without your best friend in it. Perhaps it was naïve and foolish of you, but you were happier thinking that the time you had with Namjoon was not defined by an hourglass that tipped at the notion of war.

The silence that followed was heavy, the emotions that laid between you more than words could express.

To think that his hulking presence in this place you grew up together – when he visited you in the classroom with treats for the children, when he ran through the village streets with your sister on his back – to think that one week from now, those might just be memories, never to be seen before you again. Was it selfish to mourn how lonely you would be without him?

You thought you could hold yourself together until you returned home, but it was the arm circling around your shoulders and the words that came next from his lips that broke you.

“Will you remember me well?”

It was as though the single thread holding you together snapped, sorrow rearing its ugly head as tears spilled from your eyes. You kept your face from him, but no matter how quietly you cried, the heaving of your shoulders, gave you away.

Namjoon didn’t comment, only pulling you closer so that your head could rest on his shoulder.

“You’re so stupid,” you sobbed, voice strained as you angrily wiped at the tears on your face. “I hate you.”

You swore you heard Namjoon snort at that. After all, he heard that phrase from you at least 5 times per week.

“I know, I know.”

You finally turned towards him, but before he could get a good look at you, you buried your face in his chest and wrapped your arms around him. When you realized that this could be one of the last times you held him close like this, another strangled cry was wrenched from your throat.

He didn’t dare comment on how tightly you were holding him, nor how wet the front of his shirt was becoming.

Another comment on how well he was keeping himself together was on the tip of your tongue before you felt the shuddering of his body beneath you.

Namjoon was a silent crier if you’d ever seen one, and if not for the breath catching in his throat, it would have been hard for anyone to tell without seeing him.

You didn’t know how long you sat there like that, half-sprawled across his body, tears falling until there was nothing more for your body to give. Namjoon’s hands trembled in their place on your back, and you wished more than anything that you could make this easier on him somehow. It was his life on the line, after all, and not yours.

“Y/N,” he whispered, the sound wrought with emotion.

You pulled from him enough to meet his eyes, the pain you found there a reflection of your own. His hand rose to wipe at the wetness on your cheeks before moving to lace his fingers with your own.

“Take care of my mother for me. Please.”

You nodded gravely, reaching for his other hand as well. “Of course,” you replied, breaking eye contact lest you fall apart all over again. “Only until you get back.”

“Only until I get back.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noted the setting sun above the tall trees surrounding you, though you still had no grasp on how long you had been here together. Everything felt to be a blur of fear and despair.

“When do you leave?” you asked.

“In five days.”

You nodded. Five days left with your best friend before you had to send him off to a war he might not return from. You were certain those days would be spent busy right from dawn until dusk, but you would steal whatever moments with him you could.

You eventually returned to your original position sitting beside him, facing the water as a slight breeze sent a shiver through you.

“We should head back soon,” he said, but he didn’t sound to want to leave very much. “It’s getting dark.”

“Stay with me a while longer,” you murmured, reaching for his hand.

So he did.

--

The days following passed in a whirlwind. Despite your dedication to spending as much time with Namjoon as possible before his departure, it proved difficult with the preparations he had to make. Writing letters to his colleagues, saying goodbye to old teachers, securing a horse, packing his belongings – there was unfortunately not much time left for the two of you to simply spend with each other, though you stole what moments you could.

It was almost surreal, what you felt in that time. You couldn’t help the tears that came that night after the pond when your mother held you. Since then, it had almost been an endless cycle of sorrow followed by emptiness, over and over and over.

But the morning before Namjoon would set out on his own, you were determined not to break down again. You were determined that you would send him off with a smile, no matter how difficult it would be to manifest one. He deserved to leave on a good note, not having to comfort you yet again right before he left. You should be the one making him feel better, not the other way around. You would support him as best you could, and momentarily put aside the worst-case scenarios that had been circling through your head ever since the words came from that messenger’s mouth.

“Were you waiting long?” came a voice from behind you.

Turning around, you smiled as you met Namjoon’s eyes, his body already clad in a riding outfit and sturdy boots. It looked good on him.

“Not at all.”

The two of you had decided to spend the last of his time in the village together at the pond. It felt fitting – it was a place ever-present in your childhood memories together, a place you felt a strong emotional attachment to. Not only that, it was peaceful here. Quiet. Perfect.

“Sit with me,” you said, settling yourself in the grass beside a basket you brought with you.

“Is that what I think it is?” he questioned, clearly trying to keep the childish excitement from his voice, though failing.

When you removed the cloth covering what laid within, you had to keep yourself from laughing at Namjoon’s sudden intake of breath.

“Apple pie, fresh from the oven about... an hour ago?” you hummed nonchalantly, not bothering to hide your grin at his excitement. “It’s not exactly breakfast, but I thought you would appreciate it. You can take what’s left with you.”

“You really know how to cheer up a guy, don’t you?” he breathed, sending a reverent ‘thank you’ as you handed it over to him.

As he distracted himself with the pie, you took the chance to study him.

You quickly dispelled the thought that you had to memorize his face now, burn the picture into your memory while you could.

What startled you was that he looked... happy. Well – as happy as he could be considering the situation, but truly, he looked content. As though accepting his fate was no difficult thing, as though he wasn’t leaving his family behind within hours.

Perhaps you should not have been so surprised, though, as Namjoon had always been someone who adapted well to change and thrived wherever he went. All you could do now was have faith that that would hold true now.

“Something on my face?” he teased, snapping you out of your thoughts before darting a slightly embarrassed glance his way.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How much I’m going to miss you.”

A flash of pain went through his gaze before he snapped his head down to hide it. A pang of guilt shot through you at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” you hastened. “I promised myself not to be negative today, I just...”

“Can’t stop thinking about it, right?” he mumbled.

“Yes,” you whispered, reaching for his hand as you pushed the leftovers of the pie out of your way. “But it’s okay. You’re so stubborn I know you’ll come back.”

Your words had their intended effect, those dimples you’d come to grow and love making their appearance again as he exhaled a laugh. The momentary joy you saw there, though, was quickly put away and replaced by an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone sounding unsure and entirely unlike him. A furrow worked its way between your brows immediately and you were about to comment on his apparent nervousness, but he spoke up before you could. “I need to tell you something.”

“Hm?” you responded, caught off guard. “Okay, sure. What is it?”

“I... This is – Well...” he stuttered, taking you off guard even more. Anything that rendered Namjoon an ineloquent speaker must have been weighing heavily on his mind.

“Namjoon?” you prodded, tone laced with concern. You had never been one to mince words with each other, and so his inability to come out with what he was thinking was unusual.

“I’m sorry for doing this to you right now,” he blurted out in what must have been half a breath. “But I don’t want to leave here with any regrets, you know? In case... well, you know...”

“You’re scaring me,” you said, your heartbeat increasing already just from watching him fumble around with his words.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he breathed. “But before I go, I just have to tell you that I...”

He took a long pause then, several moments passing as he gathered himself. Just as you were about to cut in again, he said the words all at once, almost too fast for you to process.

“I love you.”

You spent a moment staring at him blankly as you registered what he said.

But once you did, you were left no less confused than you were before.

“I love you too, Joon, you should know that-”

“No,” he interrupted loudly, wincing slightly in apology when you jumped in surprise. “That’s... that’s not what I meant.”

That’s not what he meant? What else could he have possibly-

Wait.

Namjoon spotted the exact moment you realized exactly what he meant by his words, confusion, realization, then confusion again flashing in your eyes.

It was silent for several moments as you simply stared at him, no part of you knowing what to do with this knowledge.

“What?” was what you settled on, and you inwardly cursed yourself for not having anything better to say.

He gave a bit of a self-deprecating laugh then, and something in your gut wrenched knowing you were the cause of that sound. He broke eye contact, bravery seemingly used up, instead staring blankly into the water.

“I know it’s unfair to tell you this now, and honestly,” he paused as his lips upturned in a mirthless grin. “I don’t really know why I did. It doesn’t change anything.”

You wanted so badly to be able to comfort him, but you couldn’t tell whether your touch would just make it worse.

“I-I don’t know what to say, I never-”

“I know you don’t feel the same way. I just had to get it off my chest since...”

He let his words trail off, both of you already knowing what he was referring to. There was no use saying the same thing again and again.

“I never thought about it,” you whispered, glancing over at Namjoon in a new light. In love with you? You couldn’t say there was never a moment where you thought you and him could be together like that – you'd spent much of your life together, after all. But it was never something you’d entertained seriously, never something you allowed to linger in your brain.

“I know,” he said, and you ignored the way his voice cracked at the end of the phrase. “I just didn’t think our story would end like this, you know?”

“Namjoon...”

“I thought I’d have time to muster up the courage, time to make you fall in love with me too,” he continued. “You always told me I was naïve.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have said something earlier, stopped hiding, stopped pretending...” He sighed. “There’s no use dwelling on it now. Find someone who makes you happy, okay?”

It was as though all of the words had been stolen from your body. You didn’t know what you could possibly say to him, how you could possibly ease his pain. And despite not having known, you couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you. You were the one causing him this pain, you were the one somehow too oblivious to see something in the man you claimed to know everything about. And at the same time, you wished he said something before, because now was too late – whether you could have been happy together didn’t matter now. Fate was cruel with her strings.

“Y/N.” His stern tone broke you free from your thoughts. “It doesn’t bother me now, okay? I just... couldn’t leave with secrets.”

“I understand,” you responded, though you could not stop thinking on the notion. What you might have been together had he not been called to war, had he had time to enact his grand plan to win your heart.

But none of that mattered now.

After several minutes of heavy silence, his voice startled you out of your melancholy.

“I need to say goodbye to my mother.” He stood, offering you a hand to join him.

“I’ll walk you,” you offered quietly, not letting go of his hand. He didn’t comment on it.

You felt almost dazed after his confession, the two of you arriving at Namjoon’s family home within what felt like seconds.

When you looked up at him he was staring at you quizzically, and you quickly removed your hand from his own.

“Will you meet me at the gates in a half hour?”

The gates. The place where you would say goodbye to your best friend, not knowing if or when you would hear from or see him again. You pushed down the dread once again, determined to show a brave face.

“Of course,” you replied weakly, sending him a smile that surely didn’t meet your eyes.

Before he could express his worry at your behaviour, you patted him on the back as you set out for the gates.

--

The entrance to your village was a beautiful place – surely the most beautiful in the entire area. One of the village teachers had a special gift for horticulture, tending to the hedges and flowers almost every day. You had tried your best to help him when you were young, though it was quickly proven that despite your love for flowers, you lacked the ability to care for them properly.

The primroses were in full bloom, the array of colours surrounding you from where you sat in the grass. The butterflies were rampant this time of year, enough that some of the grumpier citizens likened them to pests. But you had always admired their beauty, silken wings of white, yellow, and orange fluttering gently through the warm breeze.

Perhaps such painful goodbyes could be made slightly easier in scenery such as this.

The grass was soft where you sat waiting, nothing like the thick, pointed blades near the pond. You allowed your fingers to trail through the greenery on either side of you, closing your eyes and tipping your head back to greet the warmth of the sun, only having just taken its place in the morning sky.

You didn’t move even as you heard the clacking of hooves on cobblestone, as footsteps approached and arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind.

He was warm, and safe, and alive, and you would give anything and everything to keep him that way.

But sheer will and sacrifice could not win a war, no matter what the folk tales claimed.

You allowed yourself to relax into his hold, despite the awkward position of Namjoon hovering above you.

You didn’t remember doing it, but at some point, you must have pulled him down with you. Because the next thing you knew you were in his lap, face hidden away in his chest as you trembled, holding back tears.  

The hands on your back and on your head almost hurt in the way they were crushing you to him, but you didn’t dare complain, not when you were doing the same to him. Not when this one moment needed to last you until you could see him again.

If you could see him again.

But now was not the time to explore that train of thought once again.

Pull yourself together and be strong. For him.

Forcing yourself to take several deep breaths, you eventually pulled away from him enough to look into his eyes for the first time since he walked up.

You didn’t know whether to be happy or sad that the deep brown of his eyes held only a resigned acceptance, lips upturned in a smile that looked more self-deprecating than anything.

Neither of you dared to break the silence, and it dawned on you then that to anyone else, you might have looked like lovers, wrapped together amongst the flowers, gazes locked.

Yes, fate was cruel with her strings.

The bell from the clocktower several blocks away was what broke you free of the moment, your heart dropping in your chest when you processed what you’d heard.

The seventh hour.

He had to leave now.

You stood up wordlessly, almost as though you were in a trance. You couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head up, staring intently at your feet.

“Y/N.” His voice came with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to keep you from hiding any longer. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

“Okay,” you whispered, covering his hand with both of your own.

A moment passed before you led him to where his horse was waiting. You managed to crack a smile at the sight of the remnants of your pie bagged and tied messily to the saddle. With a knot like that, you were dubious that it would make it to the capital in one piece without being left behind.

You clung to his bicep the entire time you walked the horse past the gates, your fingers digging into the flesh as though you had the power to keep him there.

His hands moved to cup beneath your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his eyes one last time before he left.

You didn’t even blink as his gaze darted across every inch of your face, memorizing it as if he didn’t see you in his dreams every night already.

“I guess this is it,” he murmured, allowing his thumb to stroke mindlessly along the soft skin of your jaw.

It wasn’t often that he got to touch you like this, and he would make this one moment last a lifetime if you would let him.

He gave you a smile then that was small but as genuine as you’d ever seen it, and your face was lighting up in return before you even gave it any thought.

You only nodded, afraid in that moment of what would leave your lips if you dared to part them.

His hands left you slowly, leaving warmth in their wake. When he turned his back to you, about to climb atop his horse, you didn’t know what came over you then. The warmth, the pain, emotion you couldn’t put into words – something in you snapped.

You saw the breath leave him in a sigh, and right as his leg begun to raise from the ground-

“Wait!” you yelled, yanking his arm to turn him back around, a yelp leaving him as he almost lost his balance.

His eyes were wide with alarm, but you didn’t give him the chance to ask what you were doing before you threw yourself at him.

When your lips met, sparks didn’t fly, nor did time slow to a pause.

But something within you blossomed at the touch, a hand raising to rest against the nape of his neck even as he stood frozen with shock. His hands hovered in the air as his mind struggled to catch up, struggled to process the fact that you were kissing him.

Just as you were about to spring away from him, concerned by his utter lack of reaction, he groaned into your mouth, arms circling around your waist.

You’d clearly awoken something in him, his lips responding to your own with vengeance, pulling your body as close to his as possible. Your neck ached fiercely at the harsh angle, but that was the last thing on your mind.

You couldn’t pinpoint what this feeling was – you only knew that you didn’t want to let it go. This warmth, this safety, this moment with the sun warming your skin, his hands clutching you, his lips soft, patient against your own.

What started out hurried and desperate soon became slow and calm, but your heart was pounding in your chest regardless.

It was the horse’s whinny at your side that broke you from your daze, your lips separating as you looked at him wide-eyed.

“Y/N-”

“Come home safe,” you cut him off, finally disentangling yourself from him and stepping back.

He looked like he had so much he wanted to say to you, and you shared the sentiment.

But there was no time if he wanted to reach the capital before sundown.

He would just need to come back.

With a sombre nod and a quick touch of his fingers to his lips in disbelief, he turned to finally mount his horse.

You locked eyes once more, forcing your mouth up into a smile as you weakly waved farewell.

But your heart hurt, your eyes stinging.

All he could do was try his best to return it.

And with one last tilt of the head from both of you, he set off.

Come home safe.

Please.

--

It was a long and grueling six months.

You were beside yourself once Namjoon left that morning. It must have been days before you felt well enough to leave your bed, but time was a blur then. Your sister did her best to comfort you, cuddling her much smaller body into your side until you both fell asleep.

But you could not spend all of your days moping. Not when you had your own responsibilities in your home and with your students. Not when that would be the last thing Namjoon wanted, either.

Each time a letter arrived from Namjoon, your hope renewed. They came every few weeks, one for you and one for his mother.

You always ran excitedly to her house when a letter came for you, eager to share what words he was able to put down in a rush at the camp.

He was clearly a busy and well-needed man, stationed at one of the more populated camps on the edge of the battlefield, tending to the wounded at every hour of the day.

Despite his short letters and scribbled words, he always included petals or pressed flowers in his letters to you.

It made you giggle when you opened the first one to find a badly-crushed hyacinth stuffed into the sheets.

It was no secret that you went through a phase in your adolescence in which you loved to collect flowers in notebooks. You’d had many short-lived passions, but this one lasted for years. Books and books of dried, pressed flowers, enough that your poor sister sneezed whenever she entered your room.

It became routine to find flower after flower in his letters to you, and you had to admit that your heart fluttered each time, excited to see what he included for you that time.

The flowers on the other side of the country were much different from your own, and it was no small thrill to see what beauty was in store for you with each letter.

--

Stretching your arms far above your head, you sat up in bed, having been woken by the sunlight streaming in despite your closed curtains. Perhaps you would soon need to invest in buying some heavier, darker fabrics.

Hopping out of bed quickly and tossing on your skirts and apron, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror before heading out to wash up and make breakfast.

You were often the first one up, your mother much preferring reading or knitting until late at night, lit only by lanternlight. Your sister, on the other hand, slept early and woke up late. The girl got an obscene amount of sleep, though you supposed her growing body must have needed it.

You didn’t mind the quiet, your hushed footsteps and soft humming only ever interrupted by birdsong and crickets chirping.

You were in a particularly good mood as of late, constantly receiving news of battles gone well and your country’s forcing advancing. The village elders had told you that with the way things were going, the men should be back in about a month or two, perhaps even sooner should your opponents surrender.

The thought of seeing Namjoon again in only a month had a soft smile spreading across your face before you had realized it.

You didn’t know what you were feeling for Namjoon, didn’t know if it was love, but you knew that with every letter, he wrapped himself around your heart even more.

Reaching the kitchen, you reached for a hair bandana before turning in search of flour. Perhaps you could make pastries before your family woke up?

But as you turned, a flash of white in your peripheral caught your eye. Spotting an envelope on the near the front door, the bandana fell forgotten to the floor, feet racing across the room.

Scooping the envelope from the floor, you hurried over to the table, setting yourself down into a wooden chair in preparation for another of Namjoon’s letters.

But when you examined the letter closer, you frowned.

It was addressed to you, but the handwriting wasn’t one that you recognized. Who else ever sent you letters? Who could you possibly not recognize despite them knowing where you lived?

Doubt and dread rose in your gut, but when you turned the envelope around, you could have sworn your heart stopped.

A military seal.

Bright red, and clear as day.

With trembling hands, you reached for a nearby knife to cut the envelope open.

Pulling the paper from inside, you had to muffle a cry when you unfolded the letter, a flower falling into your waiting hand, Namjoon’s writing covering the page.

Unlike his normal, scribbled, rushed handwriting, this was meticulous. Neat.

It made you feel sick.

Already feeling like you were sinking, you begun to read.

My dearest Y/N,

I pray to anyone who may be listening that your eyes never see the words written on this page, that I return to you a stronger man, prepared to do anything to have you kiss me again.

In the event that you are reading this, I’m sorry.

I asked my commander to send you a letter in the event that I do not make it out of this war alive.

It pains me to write this, and I fear staining the paper with my tears as I do. There is nothing I want less than to leave you alone, than to leave you behind as I leave this plane.

There was something you said to me once when we were perhaps 11 or 12, I’m not sure if you remember it. It was after we got into one of our silly, petty fights, and I ignored you for a several days.

When we met again, I remember that you were crying. Your eyes were wet and red, and my heart hurt then. You told me, “Never leave me alone again.” I told you I wouldn’t, and I never did something like that again. From then on, I promised myself that I would never leave you. I would stay by your side in whatever capacity you let me.

I'm sorry. I’m sorry I broke my promise, and I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to come back to you.

I love you more than words can say, and I’m sorry.

I never want to cause you pain, and it kills me knowing that if you ever have to read this, I won’t be there to ease the hurt.

I want you so badly to be happy no matter what, and I want nothing more than for you to look back on our moments together with joy. Please don’t let my death take that beautiful smile from your face forever.

I’m sorry.

With all my love,

Your Namjoon

You didn’t know when you had started crying, but fat teardrops covered your hands, splashing against the ink on the page.

Why?

Why?

Why did your story have to end here?

You tried to quiet your sobs, but it was no use. You were lost to sorrow, overcome with pain, your vision blurry with tears.

As you balled up your fists in rage and agony, you felt something poke into your palm.

The flower.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you looked down into the palm of your hand, and another gut-wrenching cry was pulled from your throat.

Because there laid a browning, wilted, crushed, forget-me-not.

--

Tagging: @jinpanman​ @ezralia-writes​ @wwilloww​

[tare-anime]

Just a little something for AUpril “College AU” entry (AO3), inspired by this cute video clip "Mantra Cinta" by Rizky Febrian.

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

Yor took several books and notes from her locker before closing it. She planned to make today’s assignment at the diners, where she worked part time, located two blocks away from Eden college building.

She got help from the Ostanian government for her college study to become a kindergarten teacher, but of course it only covered the bare minimum. She still needed to earn money to cover other necessities. And thus, as usual things happened each afternoon, she walked towards WISE diners.

Ms. Sylvia was a kind lady, to let her work and study at the same time, but she was also quite strict regarding time management (a.k.a tardiness equal to payroll deduction).  

When passing the courtyard, she noticed that there were preparations for annual spring festivals that will be held at the weekend. She looked around and noticed the preparation of booths, a massive bonfire where the afternoon dance will be held, and spots where the fireworks will be launched.

Yor sighed.

Deep down inside she wanted to attend such festivals, but even in her last year of study, she wouldn’t be able to. Or to be precise, didn’t want to. She has no close friends to accompany her, and well….. roaming around festivals by one lonesome self was not an interesting idea to begin with.

Thus she continued to walk towards her destination.

.

Yor glanced at the far corner table at the diner room from behind the counter. There he was again, sitting by himself, taking notes from those thick books.

She noticed that starting a month ago, the blond man always came to the diner, exactly at 5 pm, and stayed there until their closing time. Always taking notes and…..

The doorbell rang and this time the same short haired blond lady that had been coming for the past week, again sat in front of him.

She watched from her place how the lady tried to talk sweetly to the man, but he ignored her. And after some time, that lady gave up whatever plan she had, and left.

.

The next day, the usual scene happened again as Yor chopped the ribs she was told to prepare.

Only this time, he was pestered by a tall lady with long black hair and bodyguards (?). Yet, the lady was also being ignored. The bodyguards tried to threaten the blond man, but he didn’t bulge.

Yor frowned and didn’t realize that she chopped the ribs harder until the chopping board made loud noises. She cringed when she looked down and just realized that she chopped the board into two. She would have her payroll deducted because of that, but somehow she didn’t mind it as she saw the bodyguards back off, and the black haired lady then turned and all of them left the blond man alone.

.

Day after that, another blond lady came to pester the man. This woman had that pompous aura around her. She talked and gestured at the man, perhaps asking him to do something. But as always, the man just ignored her. Yor glanced at the scene before her, while mopping the kitchen.

Apparently, this lady also was rather short tempered compared with the previous ones (and also ill mannered), that suddenly she took her caffe latte and splashed the man with it, then stomping away.

Yor gasped at the scene, and she hurriedly took wet towels to help the man cleaned himself.

“Are you alright?” she asked the man while she hurriedly dabbed at his clothes, books, notes, and tables.

He scoffed, “That’s Camilla for ya. Could never take ‘no’ as an answer.”

Yor’s eyes widened, “That’s Camilla? The idol of all men on Eden campus??”

The man chuckled and gestured to the brown blotched coloring clothes he was wearing, “Honestly, don’t you think that’s a self proclaimed title??”

The woman just blushed and continued her work.

“Thank you, by the way. Sorry that you have to redo the cleaning here….”

“No problems….”

“I’m Loid Forger, pleased to meet yo-...”

“You’re THE Loid Forger?! The most exceptional medical student Eden ever has for years?!” Yor gawked for the second time that day.

“Okay, now that exaggerated rumours are not-.....”

“OH NO! These notes and books! I’ll dry them right away,” the black haired woman hurriedly took a bunch of paper towels and spread them.

“Ah and your clothes! If I washed them right away…. Wait here, I’ll grab some spare clothes….”

“Ms. Briar….. These are not-....”

But Yor already ran to the staff room, and returned with a plain T-shirt, “Here. Please change your clothes to this. This is not fancy, but it’s clean.”

“Ms. Briar, I don’t want to trouble you any further….”

“It’s no trouble. And just call me Yor,” She smiled back, before she realized something, “How do you know my name?”

The man casually pointed to her name tag neatly pinned on her diner uniform.

“Oh….” She blushed.

Of course.  

Why would she ever have that tiny hope that somebody would notice such an invisible student like her in the first place. Especially the one as famous as the man standing before her, who happened to have such a calming sky blue eyes….

Wait…. What are you thinking, Yor??  

She shook her head hard to clean weird thoughts from her head.

Loid smiled, “Actually, I’ve been trying to talk to you. But you’ve always been busy. I don’t want to bother….”

Yor blinked confusedly at the man’s statement.

He then rumagged his backpack, and retrieved a shawl, “I’ve been meaning to return this.”

The lady took the shawl and immediately recognized it. It was hers that she used as the makeshift bandage for a pink haired elementary school girl, around two months ago.

She had found the girl at the alley behind the diners one day, being bullied by several male high schoolers with dogs. The girl was furiously fighting back, saying things like how the high schoolers shouldn’t bully her friend. It could ended worse than scraped arms, had Yor didn’t intervene. Still the older woman needed some time to calm the kid, tended to her wounds, and walked her home.

“My niece has tendencies to involve herself into trouble, no matter how many times I tell her to stay away from it. So, I would like to thank you, for saving her that night.”

“It’s the right thing to do….”

His smiles just become bigger, “Ah…. so that’s why she called you that.”

Yor raised her eyebrows at the statement.

Loid elaborated, “Anya has been very persistent in her want to meet you again. She pestered me to find her ‘Beautiful angel with red eyes’.”

Yor flustered even more, “That’s not….”

“These days? It really is rare to see someone help others without ulterior motives.”

The lady opened and closed her mouth and tried to say something, but eventually, she opted to change the subject, “Uh… your clothes….?”

“Nah, don’t mind it.”

“Okay….”

“Say, are you free this weekend?”

Yor blinked at the man.

“Do you mind helping me escort a certain very energetic girl to attend her very first Eden spring festival?”

She blinked even more, “Weren’t healthy kids supposed to have loads of energy in the first place?”

“I’ll leave it to the future kindergarten teacher to always see it as a good thing,” He chuckled, “as I am very sure, I won’t have the patience to follow her around.”

Yor giggled and smiled brightly, “I will ask the owner regarding my schedule this weekend.”

And that was their first conversations of many many more later in their life, when somewhere in the middle, Yor Briar became Yor Forger.

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

Notes: 

PS: the first blond lady was supposed to be Millie, and the black haired ‘princess’ was Sharon. All three of them were trying to make Loid their date at the festival. But of course, the man already set his eyes on one woman only ^^

Of course Loid Forger is still a magnificent liar in this AU.

Anya didn’t ask him to find Yor per se. He was the one intrigued by Yor’s kindness, one of the rare people who could withstand Anya's tendency to run into trouble, and made the girl safe and happy.

And of course, Loid searched all Eden College to find this 'angel with red eyes', a nickname he made himself (based on Anya’s nickname “the kind lady with red eyes”), until he knew the angel’s name was “Yor Briar”, a student of Majoring in Early Childhood Education Program, who happened to work part time at WISE diners.

Still Loid was such a dork, that he didn't know how to start a conversation, until the incident happened.