#so sorry for sudden personality shifts OTL

[im-a-special-bebe]

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Centaur!Wonho

(Please credit me if you use the moodboard!)

Warnings: Some violence, NSFW for some smut - and I feel obliged to say this but NO bestiality y’all.  

@raibebe OTL I’ve been writing for days. It was supposed to be a short, sweet thing, but it had a life of its own, so now it’s at 3,700+ words aaahhh T_T 

*********************************************** 

You had been running for days now. As an accomplished but destitute thief whose money never lasted long, you were still generally good at picking your victims. However, the increased number of guards in the village had made things difficult in the past few months. This was why in a moment of desperation, you had decided to pickpocket a raggedy-looking man’s money pouch. Unfortunately for you, he had turned out to be the lord of the village in disguise. 

In paying attention to the obvious danger of his men chasing you out of the village, you hadn’t thought of the more insidious one - you didn’t know where you were going. So now here you were, deep in the bowels of the rapidly darkening forest, lost.

For the two nights that had passed since you had unwittingly pushed further into the emerald realm, you hadn’t dared to eat any of the enticing berries and fruits for fear of not knowing if they were poisonous due to your lack of knowledge, and the little ponds of water had been few and far in between. Sleep had been a foreign concept as you had lain on the rough earth, exhaustion weighing on you but the eerie sounds of scuttling insects and distant howls and cries and wild beasts keeping you awake. Tonight looked to be no different, except that you weren’t sure that you would live to see the morning.

You grit your teeth as yet another sharp twig scraped your bare feet - your flimsy slippers hadn’t even made it through the first day.

The sudden thundering of approaching hooves had adrenaline overtaking the tiredness in your body as you instinctively broke out into a run. Even getting lost in this forest would be better than getting captured, tortured, maimed, and hung in the town square, in that exact order.

You heard a shout, but the voice was unlike anything you’d heard before, both harsh like rocks grating on one another and yet accompanied by the soft rush of a flowing stream. You briefly glanced back over your shoulder to identify who was chasing you, but a twisting creeper you’d missed caught your foot, bringing you to crash onto the ground.

You turned around, apprehension a solid ice freezing your veins, and gasped. There was no way this was real. There stood two tall and muscled brutes that would’ve far surpassed the biggest of wrestlers from your village, but they stood on not two legs, but four.

Their darkly bearded faces with ferocious yellow eyes and sharp teeth were accompanied by bare, scar-littered torsos. It was these male torsos that led to similarly haired horses’ bodies.

Centaurs.

A frivolous myth - or so you’d thought.

‘I saw it first.’ One of them spoke, his rumbling voice from before sending a shiver through you. As his statement registered, you looked around, expecting to see some animal that they head been chasing, but you found nothing.

Your movement drew their attention, and they immediately focused their gaze on your person. That was when it dawned that they were talking about you.

And you had been relegated to an it. 

They may have been fantastical creatures, but they leered at you the way the dirty, perverted men in the village did, their predatory intent clear in those glowing eyes.

You scrambled up and away, needing to escape again, but just as quick, an arm snagged around your waist and you were yanked up high - you’d surmised earlier that these two measured in at about seven feet - before being hauled over a shoulder effortlessly like you were a rabbit pelt rather than a grown woman.

'You can have it after I’m done with with it.’ The one holding you said, and the horror of your impending fate had you trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

A heavy blow landed on your ass so hard that tears tracked down your face. This only made you renew your feverish struggles, which was a worse decision because a hand wrapped around your right ankle and twisted.

A loud, pained scream burst from your lips as agony burned through your leg. You hung there limply, praying for the horrible pain to ebb.

'What’s going on here?’ A new voice spoke, more flowing and melodious than the other two, but still with that rumbling undertone nonetheless. The creature restraining you stiffened.

What was it that had him being cautious?

You soon found out when you were lifted off his shoulder as he imprisoned your wrists in one hand and turned you around so that you were suspended a few feet above the ground.

Your vision was blurry from your tears, but you blinked them away to assess the newcomer. He was about as tall and naked as the other two, and boasted his own set of broad shoulders, firm pectorals and defined abdominal muscles. 

However, while they were clearly built for intimidation, his proportions along with his almost incongruently pale, nearly translucent skin afforded him a male beauty that was simply breathtaking. You tore your eyes from his barely- scarred body - yet another difference from the others - to his face and you inhaled sharply. Straight strands of dark, messy hair fell over his forehead and pointy elven ears, and his eyebrows arched in curiosity as his deep blue-green eyes studied you. Your gaze fell to his perfect, soft pink lips, and he must have noticed because they curved into a smirk.

He reached for you then, and all your interest was quickly quashed in favor of survival. You instinctively lashed out, kicking him in the stomach. The two other creatures bristled with anger and snarls dropped from between their teeth. He didn’t seem to feel any pain, but his beautiful eyes narrowed in reproach, as if he hadn’t thought of you to be capable of such a thing.

You could hardly think about it though, because the next moment, the centaur holding you had flung you through the air, no doubt punishment for your mistake.

Terror took over your system, and your back hit a wide tree trunk, the rough bark abrading your skin harshly as you had the breath knocked out of you. You crumpled to the floor, the hunger, exhaustion, and slicing pain catching up to you all at once as black dots danced before your eyes.

A roar of rage was a dull thrum in your mind as you succumbed to the darkness.

************************************************

You awoke in a soft pallet of sheets on the ground, and you were surrounded by nearly translucent navy blue curtains made of a light material. Beyond them, you could see that you were in what appeared to be a very large tent with carpets and candles strewn about.

A throat cleared next to you and you turned sharply to see the handsome man from before.

Wait. How was he able to lie with you like … Oh. Where the half of his horse body had been were now two human legs, encased in a faded brown fabric that stretched around his thick thighs.

'I thought my full form might be uncomfortable, so you’ll have to cope with the lack of hooves.’

You gaped at him, his mischievous grin a little too familiar for your liking.

'Where am I?’ You managed to croak, and gratefully accepted the bowl of water that he gave to you

'Heart of the forest.’ He replied as you drank greedily.

You caught sight of a circlet of intricately intertwined vines, leaves, and petals sitting atop his head. That definitely hadn’t been there before.

‘Who are you?’

‘Wonho.’

'And the ruler of this place?’

'Of the centaurs, and other creatures, yes. The forest doesn’t like to be ruled.’

That made sense to you. Now for the more pressing question.

'What do you want with me?’

His eyes darkened, the aquamarine blue shifting to an emerald that matched the canopy of the trees outside.

'A lot many things.’ he said, his voice silky as he scooted closer to you, his naked chest just about pressing into your side. The mellifluous quality of his syllables was even more pronounced as he walked the fingers of one hand up your thigh where your bedraggled white dress had ridden up, 'What will you let me have?’

Your eyes widened, but the fear that had started to creep through you didn’t have a chance to take hold as he threw his head back and laughed.

Unthinkingly, you smacked his shoulder in annoyance, but he only took your hand to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. You’re safe here.’

A trickle of warmth meandered into your heart. 

‘So you won’t give me to those two from before?’

His jaw hardened. 

‘Absolutely not.’ 

He could see the questions in your gaze and he sighed.

‘Centaurs … we’re not used to being denied.’

‘What?’

What kind of dictatorial bullshit was this?

‘I mean that the other creatures who do wander into our kind’s stronghold do so willingly. It’s been that way for centuries. We’re lustful creatures more in tune with our wild sides and baser instincts, so our reputation is well-known. Those two were young enough to have never even heard a refusal from a potential conquest, let alone face actual resistance. They thought you were a nymph.’

‘A nymph?’

‘Nymphs are woodland fae that like to play games sometimes, they like to be chased, make their partners work for the thrill.’

You swallowed as you were taken aback by the mental image of him being the one to chase you down for fun. You were even more taken aback by how much you liked it.

Right.

‘Why would they think I was a nymph though?’

‘They’ve never seen a human before. One of your kind hasn’t ventured this deep for a very long time. In any case, their treatment of you will not be tolerated, it’s not our way.’

‘Oh.’

You shifted slightly to get comfortable and winced as your various injuries reminded you of their existence. 

‘Let me see.’ 

‘Wonho, I - ‘

‘I can heal it, I promise.’

The throbbing in your ankle was only getting worse, but you hardly knew what he meant by healing, so you hesitated. 

‘C’mon, little human. I don’t bite unless you want me to.’ he winked.

‘What makes you think I’d want you to?’ you challenged, feeling brave in the face of his cockiness.

He moved towards you then, one hand finding the ground on the other side of your waist to balance himself as he hovered over you. His green eyes were entrancing with their dialated black pupils, and his mist and earth scent was intoxicating. 

Your breaths stuttered as his head dipped below your collarbone, his soft lips skimming the skin of your left breast as he pulled your dress out of the way. Your half-hearted protest died as his mouth wrapped around the stiff peak and sucked.

Your head fell back with your gasp. His hot tongue came out to play, laving the tight bud and swirling around it in short, precise circles that had you writhing under him as your nails dug into his thick biceps.

‘Still don’t want me to bite?’

‘I - ah!’

You felt him smirk sinfully as his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive tip before tugging sharply. Your back arched as you moaned, the pleasure so acute. He gave you another loud suck and then pulled away, looking altogether too pleased with himself.

You lay there, letting your breathing return to normal and hastily covering yourself back up as he returned with another bowl. This one held some kind of dull pink paste, and a wonderful sweet smell emanated from it.

He set it down and held his hand out for you to take so that he could pull you up into a sitting position. He took a seat in front of you, gently pulling your ankle into his lap and dipping his fingers into the bowl.

‘What is that?’

‘A lotion of crushed wildflowers.’

‘And that’s going to heal me?’ You were no doctor, but you knew that it was entirely too optimistic to rely on flowers and pastes to cure you.

‘No, I am.’

‘How?’

He smiled, as if your curiosity amused him.

‘Magic,’ he said simply, ‘But for my powers to manifest, they need a channel, a physical connector.’

As he spoke, his hands glowed a light sheen of cerulean blue, and you were hit by how other he was. The moonlight fell through an opening at the top of the tent and sifted through the translucent curtains to bathe him in a lustrous light. With his skin bare and luminous of its own, his glimmering aqua eyes, and his dark hair that seemed to have life despite the lack of wind, he was every bit an otherworldly mythical creature, even in this human form that he adorned.

His hands pressed lightly into your ankle as he rubbed the lotion into the skin, but instead of the pain, you felt a calming warmth. As you watched, the swelling subsided, and when he stopped after a few moments, you were indeed healed. 

You stared at him in awe and wonder.

‘Come.’ he said, and you crawled closer to him, letting him turn you around so that you were seated with your back facing him and he sat on his knees behind you.

And then he yanked your dress over your head in a casual manner.

You sucked in a breath, your hands clenching in the mussed sheets of the pallet, more sure now than ever that centaurs were not shy creatures at all.

His lotion-dipped fingers caressed your bruised back, smoothly stroking the injured skin, and the combination of his healing warmth and cool night air made you shiver.

‘You smell even sweeter than the flowers.’ he said against the crook of your neck as he inhaled you. His husky voice had your nipples hardening and liquid heat pooling in your stomach.

‘What is that?’ he questioned suddenly, and you winced as he touched the top of your ass, no doubt inquiring about the red handprint that should have bloomed over your skin by now as a result of the harsh hit that you had endured earlier.

You braved a glance at him to find that his eyes were so dark with fury that the green had almost bled into black.

‘He will pay for this. I vow to you.’

You nodded, risking a pat to his knee to soothe his anger.

He pulled you up so that you were kneeling, your weight no match for his supernatural strength. 

You felt the coolness of the paste as he slowly cupped your ass. Your breaths came in shallow and he groaned, marveling at how perfectly you fit in his hand as he massaged you.

Your body sang from the feel of his touch, all the hurt and pain washed away to be replaced with a delicate arousal that hummed over your skin. 

You let out a startled gasp as he snaked an arm around your waist, hauling you into his lap until his toned chest was pressed against your back and you could feel him hard and ready against the base of your spine.

‘Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me as much as I want you.’ he said huskily.

‘Yes.’ you breathed, heart pounding in anticipation. 

The word had barely left your mouth when his hands came up to cup your breasts, squeezing and molding the pliant flesh. His fingers plucked and teased the erect peaks with such expertise that it had you moaning as you grinded against him. 

‘So responsive to me.’ he groaned, his fingers more insistent in their ministrations until you were mewling, your head tossed back on his shoulder as he dipped his head so that his hot, wet lips could paint the prettiest of bruises on the delicate skin of your neck.

He slid one hand to your aching, dripping wetness, caressing the skin of your ribs and stomach on the way there while the other continued to deliciously torment your right nipple, almost as if making up for not having given it the attention that its twin had enjoyed earlier. 

With the first confident brush of his thumb againt your sensitive clit, an eager cry fell from your lips, and as he circled it while slipping two fingers into your heat, your pulse thundered in your veins.

‘So drenched for me,’ he whispered, ‘I can’t wait to have you.’

‘So have me.’ you replied, sure that you would go insane with need if he denied you any longer.

He released your breast to grab your thigh and splay you wide so that insides of your thighs were pressed against the outsides of his, leaving you spread open for him. 

His arm wrapped around your waist again, and he lifted you slightly so that he could enter you, filling you up with a fullness that was beyond compare to anything you’d felt with anyone else.

That’s when you realized that there was more of him.

‘It’s too much.’ you gasped.

He gave a brief respite to your almost oversensitive clit to cup your cheek, a finger against your parted mouth as he turned your face to press a soft kiss to your other cheek.

‘You can take me, lovely. Ease up for me.’

You met his gaze, his dark eyes so mesmerizing, and you gripped the hand holding your face to slip his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself and swirling your tongue around them.

He let out a moan of appreciation, brows furrowing in pleasure as he moved in slow, shallow strokes, coaxing you to accept all of him until you were stretched around him so tight.

His hand slipped free of your mouth to find your clit again as he pushed into you, every stroke hitting you so good that you could barely breathe, your pleasured cries echoing in the night.

Soon enough, his name was a desperate moan on your lips and his strong arms held you steady, your nails digging into his thick thighs as you crested over the blessed high that you’d been chasing, spiralling into an abyss of vivid color and electric feeling. He groaned beneath you, kissing your neck and joining you in your euphoria as he spilled into you, with his chest heaving and his breaths  harsh pants. 

It was a few moments before he moved, gently sliding from you as you moaned, your body thrumming with overstimulation. 

‘So beautiful.’ he whispered, a smile on his lips and eyes shining as he cradled you, laying you down on the pallet.

‘Rest.’ he said, brushing your hair away from your forehead before caressing your face, and you didn’t need telling twice as you let sleep take you.

The last thing you remembered was being held in his warm embrace.

************************************************

You stood at the outer edges of the forest. Or more accurately, Wonho stood in the fully glory of his centaur form as he carried you, your arms around his neck, your body pressed against his chest, and your legs wrapped around his lean waist. After he’d woken you up to wash your face in a nearby stream and stubbornly hand-fed you a large bowl of fruits for breakfast, you had set out to return to your village. He’d offered to just carry you outright, but you’d wanted to make things easier on him. 

You had also thought that it would have been much easier to ride him, but given that he hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to risk offending him by asking. 

You heard something in the bushes, and Wonho snapped a nearby branch off a tree, his glowing hands quickly transforming it into a large claymore sword. With his intense gazed focused on any signs of danger, he looked every bit the wild, kingly warrior he was.

He stepped back so the two of you were hidden by foliage, and he used his free hand to tuck your face into his shoulder before returning it to your waist. 

The passing creature turned out to be one of the usual patrolling guards of the city - one that you would have no problem getting past. It would seem that the lord’s men had given up their search on you in the days past. 

‘I can find my way from here.’ you murmured once the man had passed. 

Wonho carefully lowered you to the ground and transformed so that he was in his human state again, although he was still at least a head taller than you. 

‘Thank you for everything.’ you said sincerely.

‘I should be the one saying that.’ he smiled mischievously, gaze lingering on the love bites on your neck as his fingers delicately grazed your cheek and you blushed fiercely at his words. 

You knew that you shouldn’t linger for long lest another guard come by, but his vivid aquamarine eyes reflected a tiny sliver of sadness and a you felt a pang in your heart at the thought of parting from him, even though you had only known him for so short a while. Instead of stepping away from him like you should have, you stepped closer, fingers tangling in the dark locks at the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. 

Each brush of his soft lips against yours had your heart beating faster, and his arms circled your waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue melting against yours. You found yourself pinned to a tree with your arms curled around his neck as he kissed you passionately. 

‘The things you do to me, lovely little human.’ he sighed as you broke apart to breathe, and he used the pause to pull you to his chest, gently smoothing your hair. 

With a heavy heart, you let go of him and turned towards your village.

‘I’ll see you again.’ you said softly.

‘Call my name,’ Wonho smiled, ‘the wind will carry it to me.’

You knew you’d be back.

[magicjesuscup]

Can you do headcanons for Artoria realizing she's falling for her master?

I know I scream about how much I love Siegfried on here a bunch, but King Arthur is my favorite (all of them. Saber Artoria. Lancer Artoria. Prototype Arthur), so I had a lot of fun thinking about this one. I’m assuming this ask is about Saber Artoria (although, it would be true of Arthur and most of it applicable to Lancer Artoria too). Sorry this took so long. I wrote it in Word and it came out to be about 4 pages. OTL

Kinda spoilers for E Pluribus Unum singularity ahead.

Artoria is the last person to find out about her own crush. Literally everyone else in Chaldea knows except her.

Merlin is the first to know and it has provided him endless entertainment.

Her crush happens in stages...

Stage 1: Admiration

Her feelings start as admiration. You weren’t at all prepared to be the sole master in a mission to save all of humanity, but you were always choosing to do the right thing.

If you’re excited about saving the world, she’ll tell you, “I can appreciate your enthusiasm, but you should keep in mind that all that’s required of you is that you do your best. Don’t create expectations of yourself that you will be unable to fulfill, least you never forgive your shortcomings or regret ever having taken up your cause.”

If you don’t have noble reasons for saving the world and ask if Artoria (the king of ethics) is disappointed, she’ll respond, “No. Your actions are just, and you are a fair master; that’s all that can be asked of you.” When you seem unconvinced, she sits next to you and adds, “You and Mash are the first to rayshift to each singularity, and you stay close by the battlefield to issue commands. Knowing you are doing these things despite not wanting to is admirable. When you summon me to your side, I find pride in telling friend and foe of the singularity alike that you are my master.”

Flirting here is virtually impossible since you’re still building a relationship with her and might not even have a crush yourself yet.

Stage 2: Super Protective

Artoria then becomes very protective of you. Women in her time weren’t expected to take up arms, so she doesn’t suggest you learn to fight so you can protect yourself. She may be a king, but she is also a knight in your service. She’ll protect you, even if it means her life. Artoria is determined to keep this vow; she will not fail.

She’s also ready to fight with Diarmuid over this. He insists, “The safest place for Master is the farthest she can get from the battlefield.” To which Artoria responds, “She relies on us, her servants, for protection. If you wish to call your abilities to keep her safe into question, you are free to do so, but do not question mine.” Luckily, Diarmuid had no intentions of challenging the difference in their moral code, so they agreed to disagree.

She spends a lot of her time playing the part of the perfect, chivalrous knight for you. Artoria starts by doing things like opening doors for you or pulling out your chair. She’ll stop doing those things if you say it’s unnecessary or do something else if you say something like, “If you wouldn’t mind, I need your help more with [a thing].” She’ll also step in if she sees any male servant making you uncomfortable. Remember the E Pluribus Unum singularity? Let’s pretend that Fionn was talking to you instead of Mash. You’ve never seen somebody be challenged to a fight so fast. Artoria flew in out of no where (you seriously have no idea where she came from), and smacked him with her gauntlet…The metal side... Anyway, after Fionn looses but before he and Diarmuid leave, Artoria gives them a lecture on how your freedom belongs to you and no one is entitled to that. Fionn makes some comment like, “I suppose if I want her I’ll have to win her from you first.” Yeah, remember when I said everybody notices Artoria crushing on you except her? I meant literally everyone. Then Fionn looks at you

If you’re aware of Artoria’s crush, you smile and shrug. I mean, what are you supposed to do about it?

If you’re as oblivious as Artoria, you give him a confused glance. Fionn then rolls his eyes so hard they almost fall out of his head.

When the Knights of the Round Table notice their king protecting you so fiercely, they follow suit.

If you’re kind, this is the time to flirt with her. The conversation might go something like this:

You: Artoria, you’re the perfect knight. If you’re not careful, I might fall in love with you.

Artoria: I doubt that. I’ve never had that kind of effect on women.

You: Seriously?

Artoria: Not to my knowledge, no.

Artoria then moves the conversation on to Guinevere, who she seems to like talking about. Flirting with Artoria here gives you the advantage of learning things about her since she’s not too flustered to talk to you.

Stage 3: Semi-Awareness

For some reason Artoria can’t let Fionn’s comment go. She keeps thinking about it and you, and gah! What does it all mean!? Clearly she’s just being the best servant she can for you because you have similar goals and it would be dishonorable for her to half ass her efforts in helping you…Right? Right!? So why is it every time you smile she feels her stomach doing somersaults? When she offers her hand to escort you, why is she so aware of how close you are to her?

She insists on being alone if there’s a time she needs to remove her clothes for any reason. You don’t think too much of this though since you thought she should’ve sought that privacy all along. You two used to be in the same room while you changed (adhering to what you called “locker room rules” where both of you would facing opposite directions). Now Saber insisted on waiting outside the room.

If you’re mean (or like to be consistent), this is where you flirt with her with something like this:

You: *while changing* You don’t have to leave, Artoria. We’re facing different walls, so it doesn’t matter if you stay.

Artoria: In that case, I think I should stand guard at the door.

You: *pretending to ignore what she said* Although, I guess it would be ok if you turned around; it’s not like I’d know. *You hear the door shut really quickly as she leaves*

You won’t learn anything about Artoria here, but you will get to see her face turn 6 shades of red.

Step 4: Denial and Avoidance

There’s a slow progression of your sleeping arrangements. First, Artoria stands in the corner to protect you while you sleep. That doesn’t even last the first night because it weirds you out. You convince her to sit on the side of the bed. You start out sleeping as you normally do. But night after night, you edge closer and closer to Artoria until you sleep curled around her. When questioned about it, Artoria says it won’t stop her from being able to jump up to protect you if necessary, so you can sleep that way if you want. One night you see that Artoria had fallen asleep sitting up. The following day, you acquire pajamas for her. She was confused when you presented them to her. You explain that you want to try something different and invite her to sleep next to you. She lays down but protests that she won’t be able to protect you if she can’t see you. Laying next to her, you reach over and hold her hand and say, “There. Now you can feel that I’m next to you.” She turns her head away from you, but you can see that the tips of her ears are red. She replies with, “I suppose I can.” After a few nights of this, the Knights of the Round Table decide to take shifts guarding your door so their king can relax and enjoy himself. (Note: They have no idea what you two are doing, so they’re left to their wild, sometimes dirty imaginations.) It was Bedivere’s turn first. Artoria gets flustered and says if he’s standing guard, there’s no need for her to be there. Bedivere can see you’re hurt by that and suggests you would enjoy her company even if you weren’t relying on her for protection. Artoria doesn’t respond and leaves. Bedivere’s super observant, so there’s zero chance of hiding how hurt you are from him. He spends most of the night trying to comfort you, even though you tell him he doesn’t have to.

This lasts for several days. The Knights of the Round Table one by one had begun to ship you and Artoria. It really bothers them to see her avoiding you and how hurt you where by that, especially since they feel partly responsible. They split up to try to fix things between you two.

Tristan and Bedivere try talking to you. They suggest you go to Artoria and tell her how you feel. You tell them it’s not your place to try guilting her into a relationship. It’s not like the two of you broke up; you two weren’t together to begin with. Besides, what would someone as perfect as Artoria want to do with someone like you anyway?

You might even take things a step further here and start comparing yourself to Guinevere. You’re not as beautiful. You’re not as smart or diplomatic. You’re not as graceful. When you’re done listing all of ways you’re different from Artoria’s Queen, Tristan comments that Artoria wasn’t in love with Guinevere; Lancelot was. So, maybe it was a good thing you were different.

Lancelot and Gawain try their luck with Artoria. They get equally nowhere, but did so much faster. What their king says goes; they can’t push the matter like Tristan and Bedivere can with you. Artoria denies having any feelings for you whatsoever, even most non-romantic ones. When they inquire about the sudden change in her attitude, she says it’s because she had shown too much familiarity towards her master and needed to put some distance between you two to set things right again. It’s the dumbest thing Lancelot or Gawain had ever heard, but they couldn’t argue.

Weirdly, it’s Mordred that fixes things. He walks up to Bedivere and Tristan and asks, “Lancelot and Gawain didn’t get anywhere; what about you two?” When they shake their heads, Mordred rolls his eyes and mutters, “Gotta do everything myself.” He grabs your arm and leads you off to where Artoria is. He greets her with, “Hey, good news. The Doctor found a second person that can take over as Master.” He threw you to the ground. “Guess that means you don’t need this one anymore.” He takes a dozen steps away from you before changing into his full suit of armor, sword in hand. When he turned to face you, he took a fighting stance. Your mystic code doesn’t have invincibility, evade, or stun, and you begin to get the feeling this isn’t going to end well.

Artoria: Mordred, what are you doing?

Mordred: Clarent-

Artoria: Mordred!

Mordred: Blood-

Artoria: *putting herself between you and Mordred* Ex-

Mordred: ARTHUR!

Artoria: CALIBUR!

You close your eyes against the brightness created by the two noble phantasms colliding. The sound is deafening. When you open your eyes again, your ears are ringing and Artoria and Mordred are fighting. You notice the walls have large cracks and there’s dust falling as if the ceiling is about to collapse. You shout a warning to the two combatants. As Artoria looks up to the ceiling, Mordred kicks her in the stomach, pushing her back. Mordred jumps back just as a large piece of ceiling falls on the now empty space where they had been standing. Mordred looks at Artoria and says, “You’d better get her out of here if you don’t want her to get crushed,” before sprinting off.

Stage 5: Acceptance

Artoria turns to you, holds out a hand, and asks if you can stand. You nod, take her hand, and take off running with her through the crumbling hallway. Artoria pulls and pushes you, weaving to avoid falling debris with limited success. By the time the two of you are in a stable part of the hallway, you both have several scrapes and bloodied and bruised patches of skin. Artoria gently helps you sit on the floor, kneeling in front of you. She looks very worried because of all the blood on you.

Artoria: Are you ok?

You: Yeah.

Artoria: I’m sorry; this is my fault.

You: It’s fine.

Artoria: How is it fine!? The person I love is hurt!

Before she realizes what she said, you say, “I love you too.” You cup her face briefly in your hands before she leans forward to kiss you. You take the opportunity to do a mana transfer to heal her injuries. When Artoria pulls away, she realizes what you did.

Artoria: That’s not why I kissed you.

You: I know.

Artoria: Come on; we need to get you to a doctor.

You: I wasn’t done yet. *you tug her shoulder to try to get her lips back to yours*

Artoria: But you’ve healed my injuries.

You: I know.

You smile wickedly at her causing her to blush before she tells you that there will be plenty of time for that later.

[theblueinyou]

L’heure entre chien et loup 06

↳ Pairing(s): Kookmin, Namgi, Yoonjin

↳ Genre(s): Noir/mafia, angst, romance

↳ Warning(s): R18. Graphic violence (blood+death), gun violence, hitmen+ assassination 

↳ Words: 3,136

↳ Summary: Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung are NIS agents working on a mission to dissemble an organization of highly trained killers.

Chapter preview: Seokjin’s patience is tested, Jimin receives an unpleasant reminder of his past, and Namjoon, Taehyung, and Hoseok are a step closer to uncovering a well-kept secret. 

↳ Notes: i realised the last time i updated was last november i’m so sorry OTL also thank you @berrycoups for beta-ing this chapter! 

↳ ao3

At eight in the evening, a lean figure sits crouched on top of a thirty-story building in Gangnam. The air is crisp after the sun has set, two hours past the usual time where people finish work and return home. It’s one of busiest time during the day, but the noise from the ground below isn’t so bad up above, everything muted by the height.

Jimin holds a semi-automatic pistol as he gazes through his binocular glasses, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he watches the busy streets below him. Soon the bustling streets will freeze with terror, a microsecond of silence before chaos unfurls.

                          < L’heure entre chien et loup >

                                                Chapter 6

“Jay,” a voice from his earset snaps him back to alertness. “There’s wind blowing from the west.”

Mina, a woman five years older than him, is his handler during operations and his right-hand woman in his business. She’s the only one in the tattoo parlour among his staff who carries a gun under her kimono.

“Target approaching from 12 o’Clock at 25 km/h.”

Jimin’s eyes searches the street with Mina’s instructions before he sees it. “Benz E Class?”

“Yes.”

“How many are in the car?” There’s a limit to the binocular glasses, and Jimin squints behind the lenses.

“There's one driver and two sitting in the backseat. Target will arrive in your range in 700m.”

Jimin hums in response, dropping the cigarette to the floor and crushing it beneath his boot as he loads his gun. The car carries a member of the Triad, and Jimin doesn’t breathe as he holds his aim. Revenge, he thinks as his fingers hover over the trigger, is best served cold.

“Target is now in your range.”

The bullet cuts through the air with a bang with a slight pull of the trigger, propelling itself to reach its destination within seconds. The glass shattering is piercing as a clean shot goes through the driver’s head. It all happens in a manner of seconds, there are splatters of blood everywhere and the car swerves out of control. The screeching of tires and horns blaring catches the attention of every passerby. Jimin quickly reloads his gun once more for Mina’s next orders.

“Target is 300m away. Get ready.”

It’s when Jimin’s focus suddenly shifts from the streets below to the sudden flash of a nearby digital billboard, that he freezes. The screen is filled with Jungkook’s face.

“250m. Jay, shoot!” Mina’s voice rises when Jimin doesn’t respond. The car has moved out of Jimin’s range, rendering their original plan useless.

“Jay!”

“......”

“Park Jimin!”

Mina using his real name is just as effective as splashing cold water onto his face, and Jimin snaps back to reality. His focus zooms into the car and he readjusts his aim. Someone from the back seat has reached forward to take control of the wheel, and the car barely escapes into the corner of the street and  out of Jimin’s range.

“Fuck,” Jimin hisses and throws down his glasses. He shoves his pistol into his bag and pulls out a long range sniper rifle, sprinting down the stairs. When he’s half-way through the building, he pushes the nearest window open and searches for the car containing the Triad member. Jimin spots them quickly, and pulls the trigger without a clear focus. He misses and the bullet hits the front tire instead. He curses, adjusting aim again when the car skids to a full stop.

Adding onto Jimin’s frustration, the Triad member jumps out of the car and runs to hide. Jimin struggles to find a good shot as the man jumps from car to car to avoid getting killed. He’s just about to switch to another rifle when he hears a gunshot.

Mina. Jimin sighs in relief. She must have been on the other side of the road and shot him in the thigh. The Triad member is limping now, leaving a thin trail of blood behind him. Jimin acts immediately, aims for his back, and pulls the trigger.

The white cement beneath the man soaks red, but Jimin doesn’t have the time to watch the body fall to the ground. The city beneath him is in chaos, and he needs to slip into the crowd to avoid unwanted attention.

He can hear the distant sound of sirens as he packs away his gear. The sound of their gunshots have given away their locations, and Jimin moves quickly. Once he’s left the building, Mina appears behind him and pulls him into the rushing crowd, moving towards their escape route.

Jungkook’s face is still on the screen above him, and Jimin looks up once more before pulling up his hoodie over his head.

He still remembers what Seokjin has said to him two years ago, when he hadn’t shot him like Jimin had expected to.

“Live like you’re a dead man,” Seokjin had warned him, his last act of mercy. “If you ever appear in front of Jungkook again…”

Mina and Jimin slip into a car that’s been waiting for them in the alley, and Jimin closes the door just in time to see Jungkook’s face one last time before the screen blinks into an advertisement.

“...I’ll kill you both myself.”

“He’s ready to see you now.”

The secretary gestures towards the door, giving Seokjin a nod towards the office. Seokjin tugs at his jacket before he enters, smoothing out the wrinkles that aren’t there.

There are ups and downs of being used as a political puppet at the age of thirty. One of the perks is that his unofficial title allows him to move forward with the mission quietly and quickly— no one would ever expect the puppet to be working with two highly trained assassins to put a bullet through the head of their party’s presidential candidate.

And one of the downs… Seokjin suppresses a sigh before he walks in.

The office of the floor leader of the party bears a large national flag, hanging proudly above the elder. It’s a minimum effort to keep up the appearances— it was an open secret that the right wing conservatives weren’t exactly altruistic in their motives. Seokjin eyes it briefly before he bows in greeting, “You asked to see me, sir?”

The floor leader holds a golf club in his hand, hitting the ball lightly towards the hole at the end of the golf mat, missing by centimeters and rolling to a stop in front of Seokjin’s foot instead.

“There are too many people who don’t practice putting these days even when it’s the basic foundation of golf,” The man forgoes the greeting, and Seokjin obediently places the ball back for him to hit again. “They lack the basics, so that’s why they miss all the opportunities on the field, letting the ball go to the wrong places.”

Putting requires a great amount of concentration—  Seokjin knows that much. He never played but watched enough games to pretend. Seokjin waits quietly as he goes back to his place, hands folded neatly in front of him. The man stares at the head of the golf club as he continues, and swings—

“No common sense. No fundamental knowledge.”

The ball flies higher than it normally should, hitting Seokjin at the center of his chest. It doesn’t hurt, but a flash of anger to spikes in him. Still, after years of practice, Seokjin doesn’t even flinch. His perfectly calm demeanour, however, seems to aggravate the older man further.

“Your face was all over the front page of the newspapers this morning. And you’re not the face I want to see these days.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I hate apologies. If you’re going to be sorry about it, don’t do it in the first place,” he scowls briefly before shifting his attention back to the new ball in place, swinging once more to hit Seokjin again, this time on the shoulder. Seokjin doesn’t blink, keeps his head bowed as he waits for the old politician to mitigate his anger.

The incident at the charity gala was planned by the leader himself in order to divert the recent negative press about the Ruling Party to the mayor who was currently affiliated with the Opposition Party. The press however, was more concerned about Seokjin’s martyrdom as the protector of the mayor, than finding out the reason why the bag of waste was thrown towards the mayor in the first place.

“Listen, Kim. Politics is a show,” the older man growls, hitting another ball towards Seokjin. “Do you know what a puppet does?”

Thwack!

“Puppets that don’t follow orders get disposed of. You’re no different from one. Do you understand?”

Several golf balls that have hit Seokjin roll around his feet idly, and Seokjin knows better to keep quiet and let him have the last word. The mayor was one of the very few politicians Seokjin liked personally, but it wasn’t exactly out of a good hearted instinct that Seokjin had protected him— Seokjin had been alerted of the plan beforehand and made sure it would fail.

“The media and the press are  vultures who do nothing helpful,” the man continues. “They can’t even get the info on the prisoner who escaped.”

Seokjin looks up from the ground at the mention of Jungkook, but the floor leader is too occupied with his grip around the golf club to notice.

“I’ve been dealing with so many unnecessary trouble ever since that rat escaped.”

Another swing, and the ball flies towards Seokjin once more, only this time Seokjin catches it with one hand. The older man freezes at the sight, his grip around his golf club tightening as Seokjin takes a threatening step closer to him.

“I apologize for the trouble I have caused last night,” Seokjin says cooly as he places the ball back into the man’s hand. “It won’t happen again.”

The man swallows. “You may leave now.”

Seokjin bows before he exits, and the man can only dumbly stare at the ball in front of him.

All of Jungkook’s attention is on the glass bowl with two goldfish inside. He taps on the glass lightly, watching them swim to the surface for the bits of fish food he had sprinkled in. Their scales glitter under the narrow beam of sunlight that peaks through the curtains, and he can’t help but to smile a little.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi calls, only to get no response from him. He waits for a while before clearing his throat, and calls him again. “Jungkook.”

“Hey,” Jungkook cooes, watching the two goldfish swim in circles under the shadow of his hand. He brought them back to his place, after killing the owner in their apartment Jungkook was in before lunch this morning. Jungkook was excited by the idea of having a pet to keep him company. “Eat up so you can grow big—”

A bullet flies past him, cutting him off as it shatters the glass into a thousand pieces, and Jungkook watches as the fish flop helplessly at his drenched feet. He stands there in silence, staring until the fish breathed their last breath and looks up to see Yoongi disassembling the silencer from his pistol.

“Was that intentional or an accident?” Jungkook asks dryly.

“Intentional.”

“That’s murder.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who was imprisoned for shooting someone in the head,” Yoongi ignores the glare thrown his way and continues. “Don’t get attached to unnecessary things.”

It’s a fucking goldfish, Jungkook thinks angrily. “Don’t take your anger out on unnecessary things,” he shoots back. “I was about to reply to you anyway after I made sure they’ve eaten everything. I didn’t even get to name them yet.”

“You’re going to get attached once you start using names,” Yoongi says flatly. “You never work properly when you’re emotionally attached to things.”

“You call me by my name,” Jungkook narrows his eyes.

“Who else will, if not me or Seokjin-hyung?” Yoongi hits him where it hurts, reminds him that there’s no one else left but them.

Seokjin arrives just in time when Jungkook is about to argue, alerting them with his presence by the sound of the door being unlocked. “Who made this mess?” He sighs when he sees a puddle in the living room with two dead goldfish on the floor.

Yoongi and Jungkook point at each other, and the three burst out laughing, all the tension from before dissipating within seconds.

“Ah, by the way, Jungkook,” Seokjin starts, reaching for a bottle of water in the fridge. “You won’t be assigned any personal operations for now.” Seokjin raises a brow when Jungkook starts to protest. “You’re a walking one million won award. I can’t have you walking around in public so freely.”

While it was true that there was an monetary reward for Jungkook’s whereabouts, Seokjin was lying about Jungkook’s activity put on halt. Whatever task was assigned to the youngest, Seokjin would do it in his place. The Triad didn’t care for Jungkook’s safety and if his true identity was exposed to the public, they’d kill him immediately.

This was Seokjin’s only way to keep him alive.

“Hyung, are you sure this will be our last mission?” Yoongi asks quietly. “Will we be free after we kill the presidential candidate?”

“Yes,” Seokjin nods. “Our last.”

“What are we going to do after this is all over?” Though Yoongi hides it well, Seokjin can sense his worry. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“We’re going to live happily.” Seokjin promises. “Together.”

“No way.”

Hoseok has a hand over his mouth, and Taehyung replays the recording once more.

“Don’t tell Jungkook.”

“He’s going to find out anyways. I’m sure there are articles up already online.”

“Jungkook doesn’t know how to use a computer.”

“He watches TV though. Most of them are cartoons but— did you hear something?”

“Well, cartoons are fun,” Taehyung agrees with a mouthful of cake. It was his birthday, and Hoseok had brought a small cake in, an office tradition that Taehyung himself had started and a tradition that only started today and that only Hoseok knew of. For someone who was older and probably had a better paycheck than he did, Taehyung had a knack for making the younger spend money on him.

Usually, Hoseok would have complained, but today was different. It was also the birthday of his dead twin, and as much as Hoseok half-hated his superior, he didn’t have enough mean bones in his body to ignore Taehyung. And Taehyung knew this and took advantage of it, and the three of them - Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon- decided to have lunch out for a change. It was just a small pasta place, but thankfully, Namjoon had offered to pay.

“Isn’t this like some blockbuster movie? Who knew a popular party representative would be a Triad member?” Taehyung speaks with his mouth full, and Hoseok does his best not to make a face.

“Isn’t this all too...easy?” Hoseok asks, scratching the back of his neck. “They gave themselves away so quickly.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Namjoon shrugs, twisting his fork around several strands of spaghetti.

Still, Hoseok finds it difficult to believe it just yet. He was taught on his very first day of work that nothing is handed over to him so easily. “There’s a possibility of the tattoos just being similar in design.”

“Three times a coincidence becomes fate,” Namjoon answers. “One, I saw that tattoo on Kim Seokjin myself. Two, we heard them talking about Jungkook.”

“Now we’re waiting for the third coincidence. How exciting,” Taehyung grins, looking like he’s enjoying himself too much despite being faced with the sudden increased chance of a possible premature death.

“Do you think the man who was with Seokjin last night is part of the Triad too?” Hoseok asks.

“They all have the tattoo placed in different parts of their bodies. We just need to figure out a way for him to show some skin.”

“What are they, though?” Hoseok frowns. “They don’t sound like they’re just colleagues.”

“Lovers, maybe?” Namjoon speculates, his mind flashing back to the memory of Seokjin at the dinner table with Yoongi.

Taehyung blows a low whistle. “Looks like you’re going to have a hard time then, hyung. How are you going to make him show you his tattoo?”

“You’re making it sound like it’s me who’s going to do it.” Namjoon cocks a brow at him.

“Did I? Oi, rookie. Did I sound like that?” Taehyung shoots a smug grin at the tight-lipped Hoseok, who refuses to partake in this conversation.

“And it was a fucking metaphor. I’m not going to undress him myself,” Namjoon is quick to defend himself, only to widen Taehyung’s shit-eating grin.

“Tomato, tomato. Same thing. Have fun getting your di—”

“Please! God!” Hoseok interrupts them finally, exasperated and slightly disgusted. Taehyung seemed to have a talent for side tracking to the topic of sex during whatever conversation they were having and it drove him crazy. Thankfully, to Hoseok’s relief, Namjoon’s phone rings, and the two younger men become quiet when Namjoon answers.

“This is Kim Namjoon,” he says calmly, his voice doing a 180. “Tonight at nine? Not a problem, I’ll have the restaurant change the time right away. See you there, Mr. Kim.”

“Mr. Kim as in Kim Seokjin?” Taehyung asks once Namjoon hangs up.

Namjoon nods, and Taehyung lets out a pleased hum. “Gonna make that third coincidence happen, huh?”

“That’s the plan,” Namjoon had invited Seokjin for dinner, saying that he wanted to thank him for protecting his father when really, it was to confirm Namjoon’s suspicions.

“I have a feeling Seokjin would beat you easily if you’re ever against him one on one. Want me to give you some tips on stabbing someone?” Taehyung says in a sing-song voice.

“Funny,” Namjoon says dryly. “I’m gonna head out now. Get back to work once you’re finished eating,” he says before leaving, taking his jacket with him.

“Damn it,” Taehyung mutters when Namjoon is gone. “I should have ordered more.”

“Sunbae,” Hoseok watches Taehyung looking sadly at his plate. “Remember what you told me on the first day? About breaking traditions?”

Taehyung perks up immediately at this. “So soon? I taught you well.”

“Well,” Hoseok smiles genuinely this time. “It is your birthday.”

The Japanese restaurant that’s situated snugly in the polished streets of Cheongdam is small but it’s a high-end hotspot that needs to be booked months in advance for a table. Namjoon stops and smiles when he sees an extra pair of shoes outside the room, and feigns surprise when he sees Yoongi sitting next to Seokjin.

“My brother seemed to be bored at home so I brought him with me here. I hope you don’t mind,” Seokjin says with a sheepish smile.

“No,” Namjoon smiles back. “Of course not.”

[shimmerleaf]

A Day Well Spent

-insert awkward laughter here- Ayyy @blurobolobo, here’s the thing for the exchange thing I should’ve finished last month o u o I’m sorry it took me this long OTL Just saw your post about going on hiatus sooo, I wish you the best of luck on your exams and schoolwork, and when you get a chance to read this, that you’ll like it (/^▽^)/

Free!: Tachibana Makoto x Reader

“I’m sorry we have to reschedule our plans for today,” Makoto states, handing you a warm cup of hot chocolate before he sits down beside you on the couch. “The weather forecast said it was supposed to be sunny today, not snowing.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Makoto, it’s not your fault,” you inform him, waving off his apology and taking the cup from him with a small ‘thanks’. Bringing the cup up to your lips, you take a small sip, a smile blooming on your lips as the chocolatey liquid makes its way down your throat. Makoto nods to acknowledge your words but there’s still a frown on his lips. “You don’t have to look so down.”

“But you were looking forward to it,” Makoto points out.

You nod. “Yeah, but we can always go on another day. The amusement part isn’t going to shut down anytime soon,” you counter, “Ran and Ren don’t seem to mind not being able to go today, so, why would I?”

At the mention of his siblings, Makoto turns to glance into the kitchen. Instead of seeing Ren and Ran standing around the table trying to build the gingerbread house like they said they were going to do, Makoto spies them standing around the kitchen counter. Exchanging glances with you and noting the curiosity sparkling in your eyes, the both of you get up from the couch and walk into the kitchen.

“It’s one cup of flour and one teaspoon of baking powder,” Ran reads off the recipe, leaning closer to her brother to make sure that the measurements are correct, “And then you sift them together into the bowl.”

“What are you two doing?”

The suddenness of the question startles both twins, resulting in Ran rapidly turning around and Ren almost dropping the sieve but luckily, he was able to steady his hold on the handle. “Onii-chan! Don’t surprise us like that!”

“Sorry, sorry! But what are you two doing?”

“Baking cookies, of course. Can’t you tell?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at their back and forth, being amused with the banter. Giving Makoto a soft nudge with your elbow to catch his attention and to keep him from replying, you turn towards the twins. “Can we help?”

“Sure,” they answer, shifting over to make room for Makoto and you at the counter.

“This has all the dry ingredients and we need to mix together the sugar and butter,” Ran informs you, pointing at the two big mixing bowls on the counter. “(F/n)-nee and onii-chan can mix the butter and sugar, and Ren and I will go prepare the cookie sheet. Is that okay with you, (F/n)-nee?”

“Sure,” you chirp, suppressing the urge to giggle at just how adorable Makoto’s siblings are. You glance at the recipe Ran is using, taking note of the quantity of sugar and butter needed before setting out to measure out the correct amount.

“We forgot to preheat the oven, Ran,” Ren comments, making his sister stop in her tracks. They exchange looks and both of them immediately dash towards the oven, opening it to remove the pots and pans that are stored inside. “What was the temperature supposed to be?”

“190 degrees Celsius,” Makoto reads out and receives a ‘thanks’ in return. A chuckle escapes his lips at watching his siblings and you can’t help but join him. Ren and Ran really are just too cute.

“Help me cream this,” you state, nudging Makoto’s shoulder, “Before they get on our case for being slow.”

“Alright.”

It takes a while using the electric mixer before the butter and sugar mixture becomes smooth, and its then that you add in an egg and a teaspoon of vanilla extract. One more round of using the mixer results in a cream coloured batter staring up at you.

“Thanks, (f/n)-nee, onii-chan!” Ran exclaims and Ren echoes, “We can do the rest!”

It’s clear that you’re not wanted in the kitchen and with a slight laugh, you nod and leave the twins to finish up what they had started, pulling a sighing Makoto out of the kitchen right behind you. Back in the living room, you sit down on the couch along with Makoto, finding it hard to hold your giggles in at the sight of him repeatedly glancing into the kitchen. “Why are you so worried? They’ll be fine. It’s not like they’re going to burn down the house,” you can’t help but tease, gently poking his cheek.

“I know, but…”

“They clearly don’t want you in the kitchen, Makoto.”

“I know,” he repeats, sounding quite disappointed. The look on his face almost resembles that of a kicked puppy and you can’t help but laugh softly, finding it unbefitting of a person like Makoto. “Sorry, (f/n).”

“What for?”

“I invited you over to celebrate the holidays but those plans got cancelled and well…” He sheepishly scratches his neck and averts his eyes from you. “This probably isn’t how you imagined you’d spend today.”

“True, I didn’t imagine this, but I don’t mind it,” you answer, flashing him a reassuring smile. “We can’t control the weather and my family will understand why we can’t celebrate together. And I like spending time with Ren and Ran. And you too, of course.”

“Why am I listed last?”

You merely hum in response instead of actually answering him, resulting in Makoto pouting at you. “You’re too cute, Makoto.”

The sudden compliment catches him off guard and a light pink dusts his cheeks which only leads you to grin at him, further darkening his blushing cheeks. “Y-You’re cute too, (f/n).”

“Thanks.”

Your simple response leaves Makoto with nothing to counter and he’s left simply staring at you. You meet his gaze head on and he’s the first one to look away. “Do you want to watch a movie to pass the time?”

You nod and with one press of the remote, the TV flickers to life. With the snow falling outside however, reception is rather poor, so instead of choosing from one of the many Christmas movies airing on different channels, the two of you resort to picking from the rather small collection of DVDs. Most of them are romance movies, oddly enough, and though they’re not exactly your favourite thing to watch, with the limited selection, you haphazardly pick one before settling beside Makoto on the couch.

As expected for you, you just can’t seem to get into the movie or care about any of the characters introduced so far and eventually find yourself falling asleep, your head falling onto Makoto’s shoulder. The suddenness of such an action startles Makoto slightly but one glance at your adorable sleeping face has his heart melting and he finds himself paying more attention to your sleeping expression than to the movie playing.

Needless to say, Makoto fell asleep too.

A pungent smell caresses your nose and with each passing second, you start to find it unpleasant, eventually opening your eyes. The TV is off now but instead of being surrounded by silence, you can hear the faint sounds of Makoto breathing and Ran’s voice in the kitchen. You blink your eyes before the scent registers in your mind and you immediately sit up, shaking off Makoto’s arm that had encircled your waist, waking him up in the process.

“(F/n)?” His voice is still groggy with sleep and Makoto has to blink a few times before his eyes focus on you.

“Do you smell something burning?”

That question quickly wakes him up completely and he also sits up, inhaling deeply before he stands up, making a beeline towards the kitchen. That obviously answers your question and you immediately follow after him.

“Ren! Ran!”

The kitchen is still intact is the first thing you notice, though a burning kitchen wasn’t what you had been expecting. Everything is clean. Nothing looks out of the ordinary except the oven door is open and something smells burnt.

“Hi, nii-chan, (f/n)-nee-chan,” Ren greets the two of you when he spies you stepping into the kitchen. “Why are you here?”

“Are you two okay?” both you and Makoto ask at the same time.

“We’re fine, why?” Ran replies.

“We smelled something burning.”

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Don’t lie. Where are your cookies?”

“We ate them.”

“All of them?”

Ren and Ran frantically nods their heads. That doesn’t convince Makoto though and you’re not convinced either, especially since they both have their hands behind their backs. While Makoto and the twins continue their back and forth, you time it perfectly so that you can see what it is they’re hiding. As expected of course, it’s the burnt cookies.

“(F/n)-nee!”

“Why couldn’t you have just shown them to use?” Makoto asks with a sigh.

“We wanted to decorate them and then give them to you,” Ran replies, looking down at the kitchen floor, “but we messed up and they burnt.”

“They were for me?”

“And (f/n)-nee-chan, for Christmas,” Ren adds.

That certainly wasn’t what you had expected to hear but their kind gesture certainly warms your heart and you find yourself mentally squealing. “It’s the thought that counts. Thanks, Ren and Ran.”

“They’re ruined now though…”

“There are still ingredients left, right?” you ask, and when you see the twins nod, you continue, “Why not try again? There’s plenty of time left in the day. And this time, we can all bake together. It’ll be more fun too. That’ll be fine, right, Makoto?”

Your boyfriend nods enthusiastically and Ran and Ren seem to perk up at your suggestion. “Okay!” they both exclaim, dashing towards the cabinets and fridge to take out the needed ingredients once more. “Let’s try a different recipe this time then! What cookies do you like, (f/n)-nee?”

“Sugar cookies with frosting,” you reply, naming the first thing that popped up in your mind.

“Let’s get it right this time, Ren!”

Makoto chuckles at how excited they seem to be at this and walks up behind you, giving you a small hug. “Thanks, (f/n), for cheering them up.”

“You don’t have to thank me for this, Makoto. Besides, I want to bake cookies with them,” you inform him, happily smiling at him before shaking him off of you. “Now, how about you go blend together the sugar and salt again?”

“On it.”

You watch him cut out the required amount of butter and measure out the amount of sugar required. At the other end of the kitchen counter, the twins are measuring out all the dry ingredients. This definitely wasn’t how you imagined you’d spend Christmas but you certainly have no complaints. Even if things hadn’t gone as planned, you still enjoyed today and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.