#that there was the most loveliest person to have ever sat besides them

[lanternlightss]

today i have thought sm about my beloved oc’s mel and cerelia and i am feeling so completely normal about them (this is a lie i am so unwell)

[mmilkbreadd]

—oh my god, they were roommates—

Previous || Masterlist

╰┈➤ when is my heart going to stop beating fast every time i see them?

╰┈➤ someone help me PLEASE.

╰┈➤ call a medic.

notes: tsukishima can’t handle his feelings like a big boy [yes, i ended this fic three years later, so?]

word count: 3.2k

[third and last part]

It’s been three months since the lights went out —when Tsukishima discovered your eyes were stars burning brightly in the night.

Three months where you hadn’t even exchanged anything but a few glances here and there.

Three months where he had definitely been avoiding you.

The three most uncomfortable months of your entire life (and it wasn’t because of the apartment that you were living in; in fact, it was by far the loveliest and calmest place you had ever slept in).

Yet, why was sharing an apartment such a difficult relationship?

But still, did you even have a relationship? A friendship, at least?

Companionship…?

You weren’t even sure what that word meant! But it certainly wasn’t what your ‘rommate-ship’ was about. Besides, you couldn’t point out when it had changed —the ‘lights out incident’ was just a funny anecdote to you: a way to remember some of your first days at your new home.

On the contrary, to Tsukishima, it was as his life had taken a huge turn: a wave of feelings had suddenly hit his heart. His emotions fluttered as he was a hormonal teenager in love. But Kei was never one of the popular jocks who had every person falling for him —he had a few students following him around during his high school days, but they were never that serious—, therefore he had never felt what having feelings for someone meant.

He felt weird around you, like he was making a fool out of himself every time you shared the same air, the same room, the same bathroom! He was out of words whenever you asked him how his day had been.

Him! The Tsukishima Kei! Who would’ve thought? Not even Yamaguchi Tadashi would’ve, to be honest.

Tsukishima didn’t know what to do anymore. His palms were always sweaty, his minds constantly occupied with thoughts about you —he used to be so serious about volleyball practice, but it was completely difficult to concentrate when he knew that he would have to come back to meet you in the apartment! He made so many mistakes during matches that his coach even thought about benching him for a few games afterwards.

So, three months after the lights went out, he made a decision: he was moving in with Tadashi for a few days until his heart calmed down.

His best friend’s apartment was too tiny to fit them both. But a place on the couch had Tsukishima’s name in it and he didn’t bother sleeping on it —even if it was half his size.

And there he was: bag at his feet; baseball cap on his head; mobile phone with three missing calls from his pretty roommate; and his right index finger was pressing the doorbell, repeatedly.

The door opened only to show Yamaguchi wearing his baby blue pajamas; his hair, a tangled mess.

“It’s six in the morning,” he stated the obvious. “What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Tsukishima simply said as his best friend moved to the left to let him in.

“So, you decided to pack a bag and just… come over?” Yamaguchi asked after closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, Tsukki, but I just don’t believe you at all.”

Tsukishima slowly made his way to the small green couch in the center of the living room area. He sat on the left side as his eyes took in his newest home.

A big plasma T.V stood in front of him, along with a coffee table cluttered with magazines, video game controllers, and a few empty snack wrappers. Yamaguchi's apartment was cozy but undeniably lived-in, unlike the sterile cleanliness of Tsukishima’s place.

Yamaguchi sighed, rubbing his eyes before sitting down next to Tsukishima. “Alright, spill it. What’s really going on?”

Tsukishima hesitated, looking down at his hands. He wasn’t good at this—talking about feelings. But he needed to get this off his chest. “It’s my roommate.”

Yamaguchi raised an eyebrow. “The one you’ve barely talked about? What’s wrong with them?”

Tsukishima took a deep breath. “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know. It’s just… every time I’m around them, I feel like I can’t think straight. It’s affecting everything, even volleyball.”

Yamaguchi leaned back, a small smile forming on his lips. “Ah, I see. You like them.”

Tsukishima’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What? No, that's not—

“Tsukki, you’re not fooling anyone. Not even yourself,” Yamaguchi interrupted gently. “It's written all over your face. You like them, and it’s driving you crazy.”

Tsukishima groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don't know what to do, Tadashi. I can't keep living like this.”

Yamaguchi patted his friend's shoulder. “You need to talk to them. Maybe they feel the same way.”

“I can’t," Tsukishima said firmly. “I don't want to make things awkward. It’s bad enough as it is.”

“Then you need to find a way to deal with it,” Yamaguchi said. “Running away isn’t going to help.”

Tsukishima knew he was right. But the thought of confronting his feelings, and you, was terrifying. “I just need some time away. To clear my head.”

Yamaguchi nodded. “Alright, you can stay here for a few days. But promise me you’ll talk to them eventually. You can't avoid this forever.”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima muttered, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. For now, he just wanted to escape the turmoil inside him, even if it was only temporary.

As he settled onto the couch, Tsukishima couldn't help but wonder what you were doing right now. Were you worried about him? Angry? Did you even notice he was gone? He pushed the thoughts away, closing his eyes and trying to find some semblance of peace in the midst of his chaotic emotions.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, you were pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. You had noticed Tsukishima’s absence immediately. It was hard not to when the apartment felt so empty without him.

You had called him three times already, each time more frantic than the last. Where could he have gone so early in the morning? And why hadn't he told you?

The morning stretched into afternoon, and Tsukishima remained at Yamaguchi’s apartment, wrestling with his thoughts while Yamaguchi went about his daily routines. The quiet hum of the television played in the background as Tsukishima sat on the couch, lost in contemplation.

Then the afternoon became night, then morning again. And suddenly, two days passed without further notice.

You sat down on the couch, staring at your phone. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe he just needed some space. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Three months had passed since the ‘lights out’ incident, and in that time, you had grown accustomed to Tsukishima's presence, even if he was distant and aloof. There was something comforting about knowing he was there, in the next room or sharing a meal in the kitchen.

You had tried to break through his walls, to get to know the person behind the cold exterior. But it seemed like every time you made progress, he would retreat even further. It was frustrating, but you were determined to be patient.

As you sat there, you realized just how much you missed him. His snarky comments, his occasional smirks, even the awkward silences. It was all part of the strange, complicated dynamic that had formed between you.

Taking a deep breath, you decided that when Tsukishima returned, you would confront him. You would tell him how you felt and hope that he would finally open up to you.

“What if something happened to him?” you muttered to yourself, biting your lip anxiously. You knew Tsukishima was independent and capable, but the fear of the unknown nagged at you.

Finally, unable to sit still any longer, you grabbed your keys and rushed out the door. Maybe he had gone for a walk to clear his head, or perhaps he was at a nearby cafe. You had to find him, to make sure he was okay.

As you walked down the familiar streets, you replayed your interactions with Tsukishima in your mind. Despite his aloofness and occasional sharp words, you had noticed glimpses of something more beneath his tough exterior. There were moments when his guard seemed to lower, when he would share a small smile or a thoughtful comment.

But now, faced with his sudden disappearance, you wondered if you had missed something important. Had you pushed too hard, too fast? Were you the reason he had left?

Lost in your thoughts, you almost missed the familiar figure sitting alone on a bench in the park. Tsukishima sat with his head bowed, staring at his phone with a troubled expression.

Relief flooded through you as you approached him cautiously. “Kei,” you called softly, unsure of how he would react.

He looked up, surprised to see you there. His expression softened slightly, but there was still tension in his posture. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been worried about you,” you admitted, standing in front of him. “You left without saying anything. Are you okay?”

What the hell? What’s going on with me? Tsukishima thought. Say something!

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away. “I was at Tadashi’s, and then I came to get some air. He lives ten blocks from here.”

“I understand,” you said gently, sitting down beside him. “But you could have told me. I was really worried. It’s been two days.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn't mean to cause you any concern.”

“Tsukishima,” you started, gathering your thoughts. “We've been living together for three months now, and... I feel like we barely know each other. I want to understand what's going on with you, but you keep pushing me away.”

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours. “Am I supposed to be sorry?” he murmured. “It wasn’t my intention or anything.”

Yeah, right.

As you listened to Tsukishima’s response, frustration and hurt welled up inside you. His dismissive tone and lack of remorse grated on your nerves, making it difficult to hold back your emotions.

“You don’t have to apologize, Tsukishima,” you replied, your voice tinged with disappointment. “But a simple ‘I’m sorry for worrying you’ would have sufficed.”

He looked away, a hint of guilt flashing across his face before it was replaced by his usual aloof demeanor. “Oh, forgive me for not realizing I needed to report my every move to you,” he retorted sarcastically.

“Maybe not to you,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin. “But to me, it was. I care about you, even if you don’t seem to care about how your actions affect me.”

You felt a pang of hurt at Tsukishima’s cold response, his words cutting deeper than you expected. His aloof demeanor and sharp tongue were nothing new, but somehow, this stung more than usual.

“We’re not even friends, [Y/N],” he continued, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact. “We’re roommates. We don’t have to get along, it wasn’t on the contract.”

His dismissiveness struck a nerve, and you struggled to contain your emotions. “You’re right,” you replied, your voice steady despite the hurt bubbling inside you. “We’re roommates, but that doesn’t mean we can’t treat each other with basic respect.”

Tsukishima scoffed lightly, crossing his arms defensively. “Respect? Spare me the lecture, please.”

“You know what?” you said, your frustration simmering to the surface. “Maybe I expected too much. Maybe I thought there was more to you than this sarcastic facade. But clearly, I was wrong.”

He glanced at you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me,” he retorted sharply.

“Then why don’t you tell me?” you challenged, your voice tinged with both anger and sadness. “Why don’t you let me in instead of pushing me away at every turn?”

Tsukishima looked away, his jaw tightening as if grappling with his own emotions. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, which was rare for someone usually so quick-witted.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered finally, his voice quieter than before.

“Try me,” you urged softly, your frustration giving way to genuine concern. “I want to understand, Kei. I want to know why you’re like this.”

He met your gaze then, his eyes guarded yet holding a hint of vulnerability. “Because it’s easier,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier than letting people in and risking getting hurt.”

Your heart ached at his confession, the walls he had built suddenly making sense. “But that’s no way to live,” you said gently, stepping closer to him. “Closing yourself off from everyone… It’s lonely, isn’t it?”

Tsukishima hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly. “But that’s a me problem. I don’t need your help nor words of encouragement.”

You paused, taken aback by Tsukishima’s sharp rebuttal. His words stung, cutting through the fragile moment of vulnerability he had just shared. The raw honesty of his admission had felt like a crack in his armor, a glimpse of the person buried beneath the sarcasm and aloofness.

“I understand,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. “But sometimes, we all need someone to lean on, even if it’s just a little.”

Tsukishima glanced up at you, his expression guarded once more. “I don’t lean on anyone,” he stated firmly. “I manage on my own.”

Your heart sank at his insistence on pushing you away. “You don’t have to face everything alone, Kei,” you said gently, reaching out to touch his arm lightly. “Let me be there for you.”

He tensed under your touch, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. “Why do you even care?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and defensiveness.

“Because I see more in you than you see in yourself,” you replied honestly, meeting his eyes with unwavering sincerity. “And because despite everything, I care about you.”

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly, though his defenses remained intact. “You’re too persistent,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Then, I’ll cease,” you answered, saddened by his awful attitude. “I’ll be at home. Let me know if I have to start looking for another place to live, though.”

Tsukishima watched you live without even flinching. He saw your move from side to side, and deep inside, he desired for you to turn around. To come back, to beg for him. Was he always this selfish?

He should be the one to be for you, to be for your forgiveness. Three months with nothing but a few words. Three months of ignoring his roommate. Three months with an unnoticed suffering.

“That was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Yamaguchi, arriving from behind Tsukishima. “And I’ve seen you reject multiple people in high school with the most monotone voice and evilness.”

Tsukishima’s expression hardened again as he turned to face Yamaguchi. “I don’t need your commentary,” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration.

Yamaguchi crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you clearly need something. What were you thinking, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I don’t know, okay? Everything’s just... complicated.”

“Complicated?” Yamaguchi echoed, shaking his head. “You like them, don't you?”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly at the blunt question. “What does it matter?” he deflected. “They deserve better than someone who doesn’t even know how to talk to them properly.”

Yamaguchi stepped closer, his tone softening. “Then tell them that. Tell them how you feel. It’s better than pushing them away and hurting them even more.”

Tsukishima looked down at his feet, the weight of his own insecurities bearing down on him. “I’ll just ruin it all over again. I hate this.” he mumbled.

Yamaguchi’s expression softened further, empathy clear in his eyes. “You’re not going to ruin anything by being honest,” he said gently. “You’re human, Tsukki. You’re allowed to have feelings and make mistakes.”

Tsukishima clenched his jaw, grappling with the swirling emotions inside him. His mind raced through the memories of the past three months—your late-night cleaning sessions, your disdain for cold breakfasts and black coffee, the way you immersed yourself in the volleyball magazines he left lying around, your eyes lighting up whenever you found his name mentioned.

The way your eyes sparkled with genuine interest and admiration—it was something he had never experienced before. Something he didn't know how to handle.

He couldn't help but recall the countless times he had caught himself staring at you, wondering what it would be like to be close to you, to share more than just a living space. But he had built walls around his heart, walls he thought were impenetrable.

Taking a deep breath, Tsukishima straightened his shoulders. He knew what he had to do, even if it terrified him. Yamaguchi was right—he couldn't keep pushing you away and hurting you. He needed to be honest, to take the risk, even if it meant exposing his vulnerability.

As he made his way back to the apartment, he replayed the conversation he wanted to have with you over and over in his mind. He practiced what he would say, how he would say it. But as he reached the door, all the rehearsed words seemed to evaporate.

Gathering his courage, he opened the door and stepped inside. You were sitting on the couch, looking lost in thought. Hearing the door, you looked up, surprise and apprehension flickering in your eyes.

“[Y/N], we need to talk,” Tsukishima said, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotion.

You nodded, sitting up straighter, bracing yourself for whatever was to come.

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice raw. “I’ve been pushing you away because… because I was scared. Scared of getting close to someone. Scared of getting hurt.”

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest.

“But the truth is,” Tsukishima continued, his voice softening, “I’ve come to care about you more than I ever thought possible. I’ve been hiding behind these walls, but I can’t do it anymore. I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. And I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

Your eyes widened, tears threatening to spill over. “Kei… I…”

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to try. I want to get to know you, to let you in. If you’ll give me a chance.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you smiled through it, the weight of the past three months lifting from your shoulders. “I’ve liked you too, Kei. Despite everything, I’ve always seen the good in you. And I want to give us a chance, too.”

Tsukishima let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. In that moment, the barriers he had built around his heart began to crumble, making way for something new, something hopeful.

If he was the moon, he hoped the stars would never leave his side again.

[cagcd]

      " It is- not that big a deal Johnny, I assure you! Leafs are a common thing get caught up on my person from the winds I am more then used to it. "( tl;dr : gd does fujins intros and exits have a lot of leafs in them. )

        ❛❛   I know a bad hair day when I see it,   and you my windy friend,   need serious help,   so sit still,   and let the pro do his thing.   ❜❜        he says firmly,   producing a comb from within his jacket,   which usually was the spot designated for an extra pair of sunglasses in case of emergencies,   but ever since his daughter had developed the habit to return from the playground all covered in mud or leaves from climbing trees he made to sure to carry an emergency pack that's consisted of a comb,   hair ties,   fresh wipes and Band-Aids.   The life of a parent was certainly a challenging one,   even more so when said child had interests most her age didn't share.   All of which he encouraged without judgment,   but had to sit hours long taking out leaves,   thorns and tending to cuts and scratches,   what made her think landing onto a bush would lessen her fall                  God,   she can be too much like him sometimes.   So upon seeing the sight of his friend covered with leaves from head to toe it was almost an automatic response to help take them out,   and go as far as rearranging his braid for him,   the state it was in was almost tragic.   Besides,   he can't imagine how long it would take to figure out this mess all on his own,   so why not lend a hand ?        ❛❛   You know how many breakdowns I had trying to figure out a French braid ?   This is nothing !   Let me flex a little.   ❜❜        Johnny chuckled,   remembering the day so vividly,   both him and cassie sat there watching the tutorial on youtube over and over at the dead of night until he achieved full perfection,   she had the loveliest look on picture day,   and he,   the longest nap in his life.   But they were minor inconveniences he welcomed wholeheartedly if it meant he could be there for his daughter,   he wouldn't ask for anything more.

@axrsinal // have no fear your savior is here !

[aminiatureworld]

Frustration

Characters: Childe, Diluc, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,068 words

Premise: Commissions don’t always go as planned, much to your frustration. Luckily there’s someone there to make you feel better.

Author’s Note: So I’ve been thinking of writing Genshin stuff for months now but haven’t, for various reasons mainly that being how much this blog is already a bit of a disarrayed mess. But after awhile I decided another fandom won’t hurt. Besides I think it’s better to write something than nothing, even if the fandom keeps changing. So… yeah?

This particular scenario was basically my day today. The characters have been chosen out of my own personal will. I was going to do Zhongli as well but I’m exhausted so if this is well received perhaps I’ll do that another day.

Also I’m so tired I’m halfway to a headache and feel a bit floaty so sorry if there are grammar mistakes and such. Anyways, hope you like!

Character Banners in progress

Ao3 link in reblog

Childe

“I’m gonna kill someone.” You muttered, slamming your weapon down on the table, causing the ginger next to you to start.

“As long as that person’s not me I’ll be glad to help you.” You weren’t sure whether you found the comment worrying, insulting, or charming, and decided not to reply, instead throwing yourself in the chair across from Childe, usually reserved for customers or some member of the Fatui higherups, though today you could care less.

“Hey, am I not good enough?” Childe half whined half joked. You only grunted before getting up and walking over to his chair, plopping yourself on his lap and promptly picking at a stray thread on his coat which had caught your eye and was now becoming an increasing source of irritation.

Taking this as a sign Childe gently pried your nails away from the offending thread. Placing your palms in his gloved hands he smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Want to tell me about it?”

“It’s this stupid ley line! You know, the one in the stone forest? I was commissioned to keep an eye on it, normal stuff, but this one seems absolutely crawling with all sorts of slimes and the like, hilichurls too and a stray bandit here or there. They keeping breaking the damn thing and the minute I fix it they’re back again. At this rate I’m not going to finish it!” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking of the hours you’d spent fighting with the thing. You’d even let out a few tears of frustration in the process, and having nothing to show for it was intensely irritating, to say the least.

“Poor darling.” Childe’s smirk was timeless, but there was a softness to it that you took as confirmation that he understood. I mean if anyone was going to understand it was going to be a member of the Fatui. As much as you disliked the group on principle, you did have to admit that Childe was certainly a hard worker, and running around at the whims of the far off Tsaritsa certainly had its trials.

Slumping against his chest you allowed yourself to relax a bit, some tension brought out simply by the act of telling someone about the frustrations that were building up, like someone shaking a corked bottle. Childe kissed your hands, a welcome distraction, before giving you a peck on the nose. You smiled at that, squeezing his hands. It felt good to have someone to complain to, to have someone who understood. But that was Childe, surprisingly understanding. And always looking for a fight.

“So…” as if on cue Childe spoke up, tone becoming truer, his smile becoming more foxlike. “You have something you need help fighting I hear.”

“Don’t let this get you any ideas.” You smirked right back. “I can still whip you when it comes to sparring at you know it. Besides, won’t I get in trouble if you’re there.”

“Give me half the commission rate and we’ll call it square.”

“Such a steep rate!” You gasped in fake horror, nevertheless lifting yourself off the chair. Childe was up no sooner, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Well of course! I can’t have you fleecing me out of my money. Not when I’ve already given you my heart, which is quite expensive by the way.” Giving you a quick forehead kiss he took your hand then, giving some half assed excuse to the poor desk clerk when they asked where he was going. “I have to save someone some trouble.”

You scoffed at that, but it was true. Childe was saving you a lot of trouble, and keeping your pride in some sort of piece. That was Childe. Wild, passionate, aching for a fight, perhaps not a great person – no in fact decidedly not so. But he was also surprisingly caring, reliable, and steadfast. And that was all you could ask for in the moment.

 Diluc

“Do you know where in Monstadt someone is supposed to find 50 Windwheel Asters?”

Diluc whipped his head up at that one; out of all the things he expected you to say that was certainly not one of them. It was almost closing time at the Winery, and this was normally the time when you came up to see him, chatting about this and that, waiting for him to close the ledger so you two could have some time together. In the entire history of your relationship there’d never been an evening that began such as this.

“There should be some around here, and Windrise if you’re in for a bit of a hike. But 50 is an awful lot, and I’m not sure the florists would be happy if you carted off with all their flowers.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall, picking at your fingernails. “I know that finding 50 of anything in a day is a hard task. But I was given a short noticed commission by some wealthy tradesman who’s passing by and wanted some flowers for a gala or some such thing. It’s important for the Guild that I complete these you know, and I’m not looking forward to telling Katheryne about it tomorrow.”

You sighed, glancing out the window of the Winery. You thought of all the places in Monstadt the view was perhaps loveliest here, cozy, with a view of all that made Monstadt, the planes, the forest, even a glimpse of the waterways that ran through it. But right now all you could think about was how in such a vast swath of land you’d still failed to meet the goal, you’d still turned up empty handed.

“Would you sit next to me?” Diluc’s voice broke you out of your depressing reverie and you sat down in the chair adjacent to his – a recent addition to his office – laying your head somewhat awkwardly on his shoulder, running your hands through his soft hair. You two sat in silence like that for a bit, the steady flow of Diluc’s pen keeping your eyes occupied while your hands braided and twisted at random, gentle and absentminded.

Finally the ledger was closed and Diluc turned to you. Smiling he massaged your left shoulder slightly, eliciting a sigh from you.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for things like this.” He began, his tone soft and low. “No reasonable person on Earth would ask you to gather so many flowers in a day. Even Flora doesn’t sell that many to a single customer without an order, and her whole job consists of selling flora. You’ve watched me work long enough, do you think I’d sell 50 kegs of wine to a tradesman on site?”

“No, of course not.” You mumbled. “But it’s my job to do the unconventional requests, how can I pick and choose at random? I can’t very well complete only half of my commissions.”

“Of course not, but nobody expects you to simultaneously catch 50 flowers out of thin air either. The Guild has its own regulations and rules you know, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a violation of one. No one doubts your prowess my dear. You’ve slain Eyes of Storms and have scaled mountains taller than most people in Monstadt might ever imagine. You done what might be considered impossible to some many times. So you should trust in the Guild and in the people of Monstadt. They aren’t well likely to turn their back on you over such a ridiculous request.”

You hummed a reply, resting your hands on Diluc’s. All he said was probably right of course, Katheryne could very well tell you how ridiculous such a request was, and no harm would come to your reputation. But your relationship with Diluc was still young, there was still so much to learn about the other, and so hearing such confident praise from him felt like a sort of gift, recompense for such a frustrating ordeal. Humming once more you leaned your head on his shoulder again. Tomorrow you would go and tell the Guild about the debacle, and let the man know the ridiculousness of his request. But tonight you just wanted to rest with the person you cherished the most. That was all you wished for.

 Xiao

“Something’s wrong.” Xiao’s voice was purposefully flat, and you wondered not for the first time how the adeptus in front of you had become so good at reading your mood, especially considering the fact that he admitted himself that his grasp on human emotions was a tricky one. He always seemed to know when you were upset at least, and your initial urge to attempt to hide your frustration immediately blew away.

“It’s been a rough day.” You admitted, standing next to him on the Wangshu Inn’s railing, letting the cool evening breeze cool you down. It’d been an obnoxiously hot day, and you were glad for any bit of fresh air. Xiao said nothing, but you could feel his gaze on you, waiting for your decision as to whether or not you’d let him know the reason you were upset. Not that it was really a question, at this point you couldn’t imagine a time when you didn’t tell Xiao practically everything, from the most mundane to those things that loomed largest in your life. You’d never met someone you trusted so much in your life before, and it felt rather freeing, knowing that he didn’t mind a bit, something that had scared you when you first began opening up to him.

“It’s just a commission, nothing ground shaking. Thankfully.” You added on, thinking of when Liyue had almost been swallowed whole; the moment when it seemed all would fail, before the miraculous traveler had bound the adept and the citizens of Liyue together. It was something you weren’t likely to forget, and something you never wished to relive. “That being said.” You added on. “It’s something that, well, is distressing me a lot.”

Xiao stood patiently as you explained to him that your deceptively simple commission of delivering food to someone had managed to go horribly awry after a group of Cryo slimes had left the food frozen solid, with the angry customer unwilling to pay or wait for a replacement.

“It wasn’t too expensive thankfully.” You remarked. “I mean it was just food. But it feels silly, and a bit embarrassing. I mean of course I should’ve paid, I don’t begrudge that. I just don’t understand how I managed to screw up something so fundamentally simple. It seems… somehow a bit of a slap in the fact. I mean, aren’t I any good?”

“Of course you are.” Xiao’s answer was firm, but not unkind. Instead it held in it the certainty of one who’d lived thousands of years, and whose trust in you was absolute. Drawing closer, the adeptus glanced around, making sure there was no one around, before slinging an arm around your own, drawing you close and running soft circles around your shoulder.

“You’re a great adventurer.” He remarked, voice filled with as much serious as there was fondness. “I’ve seen many warriors, many adventurers come and go in my time. Those whose feats will fill the pages of books and the staves of songs long after they themselves have been reduced to ashes. Those who will be called great heroes. All of them fell sometimes. And, if you must fall, I’d rather it be over something so simple as a botched food delivery.”

You glanced up into Xiao’s eyes. Normally he was reticent with words, even moreso with gestures. Every word let you deeper into someone’s life, into their past, their personality, their soul. No word was careless with Xiao. And as you stared at eyes filled with pride and love and worry, suddenly you felt as if what had just passed was small, oh so very small. There would be another commission, just as there would be another tomorrow. There’d be another failure most likely too. Many of them even. But they were small stones in a great big pond, quickly sinking out of sight and out of mind.

“I love you.” You breathed, and Xiao’s face seemed to open all of a sudden, shedding a thousand cares and a thousand worries. He pressed his forehead to your own.

“I love you too.”

[dazaiswindow]

dad! mozart headcanons

a/n: these ideas were running in my head all day so i had to sit and write it down and then this happened

tagging @cauldroncatx and @nafeary since i know you both are mozart stan 💜

Okay so, i imagine Mozart would have a pretty little girl which almost looks like himself but is not like him at all in terms of personality

His little girl picks up mc's clumsiness and is very friendly towards all the other residents that sometimes they teased him about the contrast

She is especially fond of Uncle Jean, he would always play with her if she asked and he takes her horseback riding to the field near the mansion

Jean melts inside whenever she calls him "Uncle" uwu

Mozart teaches her music and how to play an instrument very early on in her life, so that she may develop the same love and passion for music as he has

It doesn't even have to be piano, he is happy to teach her any instrument she wants to learn, even if it's an instrument he's not familiar with or not the ones he originally played, he will go out of his way to learn that instrument first and then teach it to her

But of course, if she has other passions that is not music, he will be a supportive dad too and encourage her to do what she loves

Besides teaching her music and instrument, Mozart will also teach his little girl some german, something he doesn't even do with mc

They both can sometimes be caught conversing in german which even mc can't translate despite her somewhat little knowledge on the language

"Mama sieht heute so schön aus, findest du nicht?" He asked her one day when the three of them were in the dining room and mc was serving the foods for them all to eat together

"Ja Papa! Ich möchte eines Tages so schön sein wie sie!" She replied excitedly and Mozart smiled at that before patting her head affectionately

"Du bist schon schön" He said softly, which made her giggled happily

Mc almost have no idea what they were talking about, but she heard the word "Mama" which she knew means mom, so she assumed they were talking about her, but judging by both their reactions, she thought it must not have been something bad so she just let it pass

Mozart also lets her pet Schelm, he would call the snowy owl out from the woods and when the owl sits on his arm, he would crouch down in front of her so she could pet it gently

Both Mozart and the little girl can often be found in the music room, she would watch him whilst he play the piano and compose his melodies

He would also have her sit in his lap while he's playing and he would play her whatever song she asked him to play

One time, mc walked into the music room carrying a blanc for Mozart and she's greeted by the most loveliest sight she'd ever encountered

Mozart sat on the piano bench, playing 'Eine kleine Nachtmusik' while the little girl sat on his lap, her eyes trained on his fingers dancing on the keys in clear awe and admiration

Mc felt like she could melt right on the spot from the wholesomeness

He has also been caught smiling so many times whenever they're spending times together, no one has ever seen Mozart smile this much, not even when he's drunk, and the other residents are left completely baffled at the sight everytime

Even one or two more comments about it from Arthur or Dazai didn't even faze him at this point

Arthur & Dazai are lowkey disappointed that they didn't get the snappy reaction they wanted out of him

However Mozart would absolutely never let the other residents know that he lets her play with his hair sometimes

Yes he would let her braid or tie his hair back, but he made her promise to never tell any of the residents

All in all, she just makes him so so happy and there's absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for his kleiner Engel ♡

Translation:

*This may contain inaccuracy since i'm only using google translate because i'm not a german speaker, so i apologize in advance for any mistake

Mama sieht heute so schön aus, findest du nicht? (Mom looks so beautiful today, don't you think?)

Ja Papa! Ich möchte eines Tages so schön sein wie sie! (Yes dad! I want to be as beautiful as her one day!)

Du bist schon schön (You are already beautiful)

Kleiner Engel (Little angel)

Feedbacks are always very much appreciated! | Masterlist

[mylovelies-docx]

Silent Lovers

Inspired by THIS post. 

Just a cute little fluffy piece I wrote. It hasn’t been proofed, so any mistakes are mine. 

Word Count: 2350

Warnings: None. Tooth-rotting fluff!

You fell in love with him just a little bit more every day.

His actions, his mannerisms, the glimmer in his eyes spoke of a man infinitely amused and in awe of the universe around him despite everything it had put him through. Poe Dameron may have been the Resistance’s best pilot, but he was also the reason so many people joined in the fight. Including you.

_____________

You had seen him buying galactic fruit from a bazaar on an allied planet that you had called home for years. His insignia emblazoned jacket marked him as a good guy, but his smile marked him as a kind man. His straight white teeth were easily visible, and his deep smile lines indicated a lifetime of grins.

You were too far away to hear their conversation, but you could tell that the stall owner was quite taken with him. They were laughing boisterously and exchanging quips rapid fire, pulling others around them into the conversation. The gravity of Poe Dameron sucked you in as well, and you orbited the outskirts of the group.

Poe was recruiting new members to his cause using only his charisma and charm. He never faltered on reasons to join and never stumbled through the sales pitch. He was confident in himself and his ability to sell the war efforts to this small group of traders and civilians. He succeeded, too.

You gained passage on a cargo ship heading to the Resistance base to supply yourself as a new recruit. Working as a mechanic for most of your life lent itself as a boon to your placement on base, and having sufficient flight and combat skills meant you could also be a substitute pilot on missions when required. But with so many X-wings coming in damaged and in need of repair after skirmishes with the First Order, your feet were planted firmly on the ground. Which was alright by you since all of your new friends were fellow mechanics or mission control crew.

It was also fine by you since you were able to discreetly observe Poe Dameron in his natural element as Commander and pilot. There were so many talented mechanics that you weren’t able to gain access to Poe’s X-wing, and therefore you were unable to get to know him up close. But you were content to watch from the sidelines and learn who he was by watching his interactions with others.

___________________

He had a smile or a special handshake with nearly everyone when things were calm. You could tell that he genuinely enjoyed speaking with and knowing everyone he worked with; whether that be the droids helping to repair his ship or the runners that brought out rations who were too young to fight. You enjoyed seeing his smile, since it was the first little thing you fell in love with.

Poe also had a habit of singing - quite loudly - when he was working on a task and feeling particularly playful. He was actually a good singer, but when Snap or Jessika gave him a look to shut up, he purposefully sang off key and out of tune to irritate them further. They would just roll their eyes and pretend to be annoyed, but they smiled when they looked away. Poe noticed these smiles and grinned even wider when he caught them.

Poe had even gotten his little droid, BB-8, to beep along with him. Poe would start whistling a tune and BB-8 would pick up right alongside him. It was cute to see the droid sway back and forth while it was ‘singing’, but your focus was drawn to the sound of Poe’s voice as he started up the chorus.

Whether or not his singing was out of contentment or playfulness, you loved to hear it. You often hummed along to yourself, five or six stations away on the opposite side of the hangar, far out of reach of Poe’s ears and eyes.

You loved to hear him sing, because that meant everything was okay for the moment. Your heart skipped a beat every time you caught even a note.

__________________

The constantly tousled brown curls that rested on Poe’s head were disastrous to your heart, as well. Anxious or nervous, laughing or silly, Poe was notorious for running his hands through his hair and shaking out the curls. You saw him do this on many occasions, unfortunately they were mostly out of stress and fear. 

Before an important mission, Poe would give his team a pep talk and try to instill a fearlessness in them. He would be serious and stoic, resting a hand on someone’s shoulder and pointing and motioning with the other. He would clap twice then rub his hands together feverishly, dismissing his squadron and turning his focus onto preparing himself. Poe would take a deep breath with his hands on his hips, then on the exhale scrub his hands frantically through his hair. His face was always set in a determined expression, but you could tell by the chaotic set of his curls how anxious he really was.

On one such ritual, Poe caught you staring from across the hangar. You froze for a second, mentally berating yourself for watching him for too long. 

Heart in your throat and stomach somewhere around your knees, you gave a weak smile and two thumbs up. Your first interaction with the man you were silently in love with.

Poe gave a little huff of laughter and mimicked your gesture. With a small grin on his lips and in seemingly better spirits, he climbed into his X-wing and pulled a helmet over his beautifully disheveled hair.

                                                            ******

Poe Dameron knew a lot of people, but he didn’t know you. You, who he’d never seen before until that day. You were cute in an unassuming way; flushed cheeks and messy hair, grease stains on your clothes and face. The little thumbs up you had given him was enough to get him in his cockpit and out into the fray. You had no idea how much he had needed encouragement from someone other than himself in that moment.

After that mission, Poe took to watching you. You didn’t know each other, but he liked to think he knew you just by observing. 

He fell in love with you a little bit more every day. 

Your expressions, your posture, your smile that lit up a room and illuminated everything within its path. You may have been one of the best mechanics on base, but you were also one of the loveliest people Poe had never met.

______________

Poe was not typically shy; he had a loud mouth, a hot temper, and no impulse control. But when it came to you, he was a nervous wreck. Every time he got up the courage to introduce himself, someone either came along and roped him into a mission or you were so busy that you didn’t hear him clearing his throat behind you. (Those times were mortifying: Snap and Jess would chortle unabashedly at his misfortune, dying over the way he would ring his hands behind his back as he waited for you to turn around and notice him. Poe only ever stuck around for a few seconds until his courage was gone, but those few seconds were embarrassing.) He couldn’t bring himself to interrupt your work when you were so invested.

Your eyebrows would furrow together and create a little line right in the middle, tempting Poe to smooth it out; your mouth would curl up like you had witnessed something distasteful, begging Poe to give you something more to your liking, but sometimes you’d bite your lower lip and stick your tongue out in concentration, sending Poe’s blood careening through every vein; you would be hunched so far over your work bench that you basically had your chin pressed against the table, but Poe loved the way your face softened as you finally figured out what was wrong with the part in your hands.

One time, Poe sat huddled in the hangar with a group of pilots, waiting on the sudden storm to pass so that they could go out and train, when he noticed you run off into the rain. He sat mesmerized with a goofy grin on his mouth as he saw you fling your arms open and raise your face into the oncoming water. Your eyes were closed and your mouth was open in a wide smile full of pretty teeth. You spun in a circle a few times and nearly lost your balance, sending you into a fit of giggles that, unbeknownst to you, Poe joined in on. 

Jessika shoved an elbow into Snap’s waist when she caught their Commander with such a gooey expression. They both gave each other a look and brought Poe back into the conversation.

                                                           ******

You really didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore. Poe was all you could think of in your spare time and you ran the risk every day that he would catch you watching him again. But you couldn’t help it; he was just so handsome and good. You couldn’t get over this stupid, silent crush no matter how hard you fought it.

He doesn’t even know who you are, just that you’re some nerfherder that he caught staring at him.

A few months had passed since that happened, and you were no closer to knowing Poe on a personal level. Interestingly enough, though, Jessika Pava and Snap Wexley were becoming fast friends of yours. You were a bit intimidated at first, but they were both nice and funny, so you quickly let down your guard and hung out with them. They often brought up Poe, which made your cheeks warm everytime. You didn’t miss the knowing looks they gave you when you turned your face down and away from their prying eyes.

_________

It was an uncommonly windy day on D’Qar, so all of the pilots were grounded and unable to practice maneuvers. Everyone was resting on or against a pile of supply crates in the hangar, chatting and having a good time. You didn’t want to interrupt them, but you needed some materials from the crate that Jessika was situated on. Since you knew her and knew she wouldn’t be bothered by your interruption, you made your way over to the group quietly.

Poe was standing beside Snap on Jess’s other side, so you sidled up behind her and whispered in her ear:

“Boo.”

Jessika jolted off of the box and whirled around to face you. You were laughing so hard that you were bent over at the waist with tears collecting in the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t stop yourself from seizing the prime opportunity.

“Maker! You scared me half to death!” Jessika scolded, wagging a finger at you. Her heart was still racing, but she couldn’t help but chuckle at your antics.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you apologized, wiping away the tears that were threatening to fall. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You were still grinning from ear to ear and huffing out little breaths of laughter, causing Poe’s heart to constrict in his chest at the sight. You were so cute it hurt.

You were so close it hurt. You weren’t looking at him, but he could see your face up close for the first time, and it took his breath away. He had seen a million beautiful people across the galaxy, but there was something about you that was special in a way that none of them had been.

Jessika glanced quickly away from your smiling face to catch Poe with his mouth slightly open and eyes wide with longing. Finally, she had gotten these two idiots within speaking distance.

“Whatever: I forgive you. By the way…” Jessika said. Her eyes darted towards Poe, and yours followed along. Your breath stuttered out of your lungs as Jess grabbed Poe by the arm and tugged him closer. “Have you met Commander Dameron?”

Jessika released Poe’s arm and shoved him closer towards you. Poe nearly stumbled over his feet at the sudden pressure. He turned to give Jess a quick glare, but faced you again immediately. Your eyes were wide and your face was either still flushed from laughter or from nerves; either way, Poe was enamored.

“Poe,” he introduced. He extended an open palm towards you, hoping like hell that it wasn’t sweaty. His heart was racing, but a crooked grin stretched across one side of his face in anticipation.

“I know,” you replied, extending your hand in return. You cringed at your reply, pausing your hand on its way to meet his. You made a quick finger blaster with that same hand to point out that you had caught your slip. Poe chuckled adoringly at this gesture and proceeded to clasp hands when yours returned to the correct position.

You were absolutely horrified by what came out of your mouth and whatever the Maker your hand just did. Your social anxiety was at an all time high right now, and you weren’t making it any easier on yourself. You were shaky and you just knew that your underarms were pouring liquid, so you kept your one arm extended to shake Poe’s hand and the other crossed over your chest to grasp your opposite bicep. Even through the nerves, you could feel how warm his hand was.

Poe had a large and calloused hand, proof of all the years he had spent fighting. It radiated heat into your own palm and you didn’t know whose hand was providing all the sweat. Despite the awkwardness you had shoehorned into this meeting, you were thankful that it was finally happening.

“(Y/N),” you supplied.

“I know,” Poe grinned.

You had both fallen in love from a distance and now had the opportunity to fall in love up close and personal, building on top of the foundation you had both laid together silently and without the other’s notice.

You were no longer silent lovers, appreciating and admiring from afar, but finally intimate acquaintances. 

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 18

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader   CW: mentions of abuse, throwing up, depression, horrible coping mechanisms, implied sexual references   A/N: Read CW for this chap.

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 18: Love Isn’t a Magic Potion

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

February 14th, 1976

There wasn’t quite another person like James Potter who knew what unrequited love felt like.

After years of harbouring feelings for Lily, making a fool of himself, his failed attempts of trying to impress her; she never seemed to take interest. Lily always sent him disgusted looks, never passing up the opportunity to call him a dirty arrogant toe-rag.

And sure, it phased him sometimes; her words cutting deep, but despite it all, James still believed in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half. His parents were his main inspiration for love. Years — decades they’d been together and still, the love they held for one another, so fierce and unstoppable, it even shocked James at times.

A long time ago, when he truly understood the concept of love, he made a promise that he wouldn’t settle for anything but for the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding his soulmate — his better half.

He wanted all of it. The good days, the bad days, the glitter and sparkles, the cheesy one-liners; long walks on the beach, nursing them back to health after they caught the flu, watching the sunsets, dancing in the rain — even the stupid petty arguments. He wanted all of it.

No matter how long it took to find them, he would; after all, everyone had their person.

Maybe that’s why he chased after Lily for so long — hoping for that romantic love — the love that’s made for movie screens — the type of love that conquered all. But he wouldn’t continue to beat on a dead horse, especially if Lily didn’t want that.

He wouldn’t force her and certainly, he wouldn’t harass her.

But, James would consider himself lucky, he found his friends — they were already his platonic soulmates and he’d go to the ends of the earth for each of them. His parents, the Marauders, Marlene, now Whiskers; he was always surrounded by only the purest amount of love.

He was never a person to cover up his emotions — hardly, that is. He wore his heart proudly on his sleeve, never once letting others dictate his life and the way that he loved. He laid himself bare, open, and there was a beauty to it that words couldn’t describe.

Love truly conquered all, whether it be romantic or platonic.

But to the women that fell in love with Sirius Black, well — there wasn’t quite another group of people like them who knew what unrequited love felt like — not even James ‘Oi, Evans!’ Potter could compare. 

Love is shit.

Love is cruel.

Love is unfair.

Sirius would go on date after date. One fleeting look and soon enough, he had women at his feet, falling for his devilish charm that captivated them in seconds.

They swooned over his chiselled jaw and thick glossy hair; eyes so mysterious with profound, moonlit mirth. The epicanthic folds highlighted his sharp and pointed look that they swore cut through them, searching through the deepest part of their souls.

He was a part or used to be a part of the oldest and most noble Pureblood families in the country. He was rich, of high status, French, could speak five languages and a mischievous bad boy straight out of your classic Muggle film.

Falling in love with Sirius Black was an easy task, so simple and it could happen in a blink of an eye. The realization would come either fast or slow depending on the poor lovesick git who let themselves fall.

But getting Sirius Black to return that affection was an impossible task.

He was raised as a gentleman and would play the part before becoming bored. They were all fillers, the people he dated.

He would admit it, he’s a bit of a dick.

He never fell in love with anyone he’s dated so far — never got past the fancying stage and even then, it was never strong. It never made him feel those butterflies that James described them as. His heart never jumped, never sped up fast, he never felt his skin heat nor did their laugh ever put him into a trance — nothing like what he described them to be like. If anything, he’d always break it off with the girls he found himself getting too comfortable with; always severing it before it became too much.

Although, it technically never was his fault that they fell in love. Most of his admirers like to daydream from afar, or they’d make a promise at the beginning — no strings attached.

Well for them, it did. It almost always ended with strings attached with Sirius holding a pair of shiny scissors at the end of fried thread.

He did not believe in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half.

But that doesn't mean he didn’t want it.

But, above all, Sirius Black considered himself to be a realist. Unlike James, he couldn't — he wouldn’t let himself believe in that shit anymore. Love is disappointing and it does nothing but hurt you, nothing but a filler he used to distract himself with, no matter who it was. Love did not fix his fuck ups nor himself.

All of the adoring admirers, the ones that lined up for him, they would all leave if they caught a glimpse of the worst parts of him. The ugly, nasty parts. He used rage as a means of defence, he pushed the people he loves away, he was moody, dramatic and above all, reckless.

All they wanted was to take, use him for his body — they wouldn’t love him if they knew him. The real him: the ugly side along with the beautiful one he wore. The side that wasn’t always adventurous, daring, bold, brave… happy, go-getting.

Nobody would stay for the ugly part of him.

In that regard, Sirius was unloveable. Completely, utterly unloveable.

Currently, the uglier, caged part of Sirius re-emerged as he writhed around in his bed. Eyes moved rapidly behind eyelids, squinted in pain as he squirmed around, clutching the bed sheets tightly. His head flopped from side to side as he was unable to wake; stuck in a nightmare.

“You mudblood lover —” “Don’t call them that!” “Babies, Regulus, babies!” “It’s killing me to stay.” “CRUCI —”

Sirius woke with a jolt, choking on a strangled scream that clawed at his throat. His mind seemed to be encased in a wordless static, muting him to the noise around him as he felt the rapid, hard thumps against his chest. Distantly, he could feel his body raking in waves as the sticky, cold feeling of his sweat dripped from his temple and down the side of his face. It made his hair stick to his forehead uncomfortably yet somehow, despite the sweating and the overwhelming feeling of heat, he felt ice cold.

He swallowed thickly, sniffingly away the stinging growing behind his eyelids but failed as a few stray tears had already settled on his cheeks. Sirius looked around frantically, meeting the familiar red and gold bed sheets that were now pushed off of him as he sat upright in his bed. Red velvet drapes hung around the sides, pulled together as slivers of bright light sliced through them. It made him squint and focus on the surroundings.

Soon enough, it felt like a weight lifted off his chest, marked in unspoken forgiveness once realizing where he was.

You’re safe, his inner voice spoke firmly, It was just a dream. A dream.

“Wakey, wakey Padfoot!”

He had just enough time to wipe the freshly fallen tears away before James ripped back his curtains, jumping into his bed. He drew a deep sigh, avoiding James’ eyes and trained them to look outside.

Upon the grass and mountains, snow sprinkled on much like sugar over a cake. The distant chirping of birds could be heard singing their usual song, or more like an alarm clock, as they soared high in the sky without a worry in the world.

If only Sirius could be a bird, what a simple life he would lead.

“Fuck you,” groaned Remus, “He might be awake, but I’m not.” His eyes clenched in annoyance, throwing his blanket over his head.

“Well aren’t you lovely? Isn’t he, Sirius?”

“The loveliest,” he managed to grit out, throat groggy and dry.

“Shut up!”

“Okay, calm down big bad wolf.”

“Well,” he mocks James, his voice going an octave higher, “This big bad wolf can maul you.”

James beamed brightly, the ever morning person he was, unaffected by Moony’s response. Instead, he padded his way over to him, shaking him before Remus flipped the covers off his body, tackling him into his bed.

“Do you guys think I should cut my hair?” James managed to get out as he gasped. Remus sprawled out on top of him, pinning him in place as he was being crushed from his weight. “I want to make sure I look good for today.”

“You’re always in need of a trim,” Peter called out.

“You look fine,” Remus added, “Besides, you and scissors are not a good move right now.”

Meanwhile, Sirius’ stomach felt hollow, worry ate at his very being before he felt something rise within his throat. Quickly, swinging his legs over the edge, Sirius made his way to the loo in a rush while James and Remus were both distracted.

Peter was there, rifling through the cabinets with his toothbrush dangling from his lips. “Morning,” he said, not quite looking over to him, “Do we have any more toothpaste? I keep telling Prongs not to use so much…”

“Get out,” he managed to say before shoving Peter out of the door, closing it shut. He barely managed to cast a silencing charm before opening the lid of the toilet seat, throwing up. For the most part, Sirius gagged on air before finally attempting to collect himself, preventing hyperventilation.

Foolishly, even up until that dreaded night, Sirius had an ounce of hope. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was hope that Regulus might have turned out different, or maybe it was hope that he’d finally be accepted, even though he knew that would never be the case — never with parents like Walburga or Orion.

But every time he dared to dream, to hope, he was always quickly reminded why it hurt. Hope was dangerous, a false sense of reality — a taste of what people dreamt and chase for but could never quite grasp.

It was more addicting than any kind of alcohol he drank — or the girls — or pranks.

Eventually, he got up from the floor, jumped in the shower and followed his morning routine before wrapping a towel around himself and stepped out.

Sirius was drying his hair before catching a glimpse of himself in the large mirror in front of the sink.

Sirius had never been insecure about the way he looked. A part of him, the arrogant and narcissistic part of him knew that he looked good and he’d flaunt it. But there were times like today, where he’d look at himself, but feel as if he’s looking at a familiar face that wasn’t his — a monster reflected back.

He wondered if this is what Moony felt like.

For a moment, Sirius let his face rest, allowing the helpless, loitering fear and guilt he felt engrave its way onto the smooth surface of his skin.

The eyes looking back at him today were his father’s, his hair reminded him too much of Regulus, his high cheekbones reminded him of Walburga and the tired, slightly crazed look reminded him of Bellatrix.

A member of the Black family, that's what people saw when they first looked at Sirius, the heir of the most noble and ancient house of Black.

Sirius Orion Black.

Orion Black… Even his name made him want to cry out in rage. Another reminder.

Pushing back his wet hair, he studied the faded scar that disappeared into his hairline.

It was more apparent than ever that Sirius had scars.

But unlike James, whose scars were from happy memories of the Quidditch pitch, or Peter, whose only scars were from chopping chocolate for a fancy baking recipe — and lastly, Remus, whose scars were visible, laid out for everyone to see, Sirius’ scars were invisible.

He wore them day in and day out without anyone ever knowing.

With a blink, he drowned out his thoughts immediately; his dreams, his past, his thoughts were for another time.

He sucked in a breath, clicking the door open.

Remus was the only other person still in the dorm. He stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up his white school shirt before ducking down and grabbed his bag, shoving in books, his wand and any other loose pages of parchment that he assumed was for his little study group.

“Where’s Wormy and James?” He asked, not liking the way his voice sounded wobbly and hoarse. His eyes no longer peered up at his chap, instead looking around the room. Anywhere but his face.

Thankfully, Moony didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with the now overflowing pile of Valentine gifts and cards on his bedside. He grew frustrated with them with every passing second as they littered his space.

“Accio bin!”

The black bin from across the room flew into Remus’ hand, quickly shoving the letters in but soon a guilty look flashed across his face.

Remus had always been too considerate about their feelings, perhaps Sirius should take a page from his book.

Sirius had a pile accumulating on the carpet beside his trunk; it seemed like more and more people every year were confessing their feelings, but this time, Remus seemed to be getting a lot more along with the rest of the Marauders. But he smiled, happy to know that Remus had been getting some action. He fucking needed it.

“Er — sorry, Pete’s off to Wood’s room to borrow their toothpaste and James —” Remus cut himself off, bringing a hand to the sides of his temples as he moved them in circular motions. “I’m pretty sure Prongs went to find Y/N. Something about finishing a sign or a song for today —”

Sirius bit back a laugh, “A song?”

“I guess he’s fucking Paul McCartney now.”

Remus passed him, disappeared into the loo, giving enough time for Sirius to get dressed.

It was his third dream that week about that night and it was wearing down on him emotionally. He was losing sleep, he wasn’t eating, he was reclining from the Marauders, he was so prone to anger; lashing out, yelling… he didn’t like how he was acting — it reminded him too much of Orion.

And the thought made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to be a monster.

Lost in his depressing thoughts, Remus re-entered the room. But instead of walking up to his bed, Remus halted, looking directly at him before he crossed the room, putting a protective, encouraging hand onto his shoulder. A serious and calculated look crossed his face.

“Do you need anything?” He spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were to speak any louder, the walls might hear.

Sirius felt unexpected annoyance brewing in his chest. Bloody fucking Lupin, of course he knew — using his heightened senses to sniff out his distress.

Unlike Sirius, who hid his emotions, who covered and buried even a sign of weakness, who searched for answers high and low, Remus was so blunt — clear cut with his emotions. He knew just what to say, knew what was happening before others did even if they hadn’t even spoken yet.

He wished his thought process was as clear-cut as Moony’s.

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” he said, faking nonchalance. Jokingly, he prodded Remus’ cheek with his finger, “Turning into Moomy, again?”

His friend did not smile, concern still latched on.

“You know I’m always here for —” Before he could say anything more, Sirius hastily grabbed his bag, slinging over his shoulder, bolting out of the room.

Hiding — running away from his problems — that’s what Sirius was an expert on. And like that, he switched off that part — the ugly, unloveable part of his brain for the day.

When Sirius reached the Great Hall, he wasn’t surprised when a dozen owls bombarded him with letters and chocolates. It brought a sly smile to his lips

What? He did say he was arrogant.

“Looking grand, Black,” Marlene teased as she observed the overflowing amount of cards already in his arms. She ruffled his hair as he was forced to take the seat next to L/N. Marlene turned to chat with Dorcas, who finally was back on her feet and kicking it.

“It’s not even eight and your bag is filled?!” Peter exclaimed, baffled.

A part of Sirius didn’t feel annoyed as he sat beside her. Maybe it was because his main stressor, the Black family, was out of the picture and he’d been desperately trying to control his lash outs, but Sirius was stumped. Since the break, especially after the ‘Muggle’ incident, he found himself tolerating her presence.

Just a bit.

He understood why James, Remus, Lily, Marlene; why everyone took a liking to her.

But he had an inkling as to why.

Although, his mixed feelings towards her were not helping in the slightest as he dealt with the string of recent events in his life.

She was the one that spoke first, which surprised him.

“Ugh —” Y/N fiddled with the hem of her robes, “Kettleburn wants us to switch the Puffeskin between us. I was thinking since we’re in the same house, we could keep it in one of our dorms. I was thinking about keeping it in yours.”

“Why not yours?”

“They liked to hatch in warm places. Your dorm has a fireplace, right? I remember James telling me you had one… And it would make it easier since women can go into the boy’s dorms.”

For some reason, he couldn’t stop himself — he just couldn’t. “I bet you’re trying to get off quick.”                

The accusations did not sit right with her.

For someone like Sirius, someone who dealt with the worst shit imaginable; someone who'd been beaten down, both metaphorically and literally — someone who by the textbook was supposed to curl in on himself — keep to himself, be small, avoid drama, don’t cause arguments — Sirius did anything but that. Everything he did, he made sure to cause a reaction.

“No —”

“Are we about to argue because you want to win, or is it because you want to learn?.”

“You’re so arrogant. I don’t need you for grades. Your brain probably grew twice in size when I turned you into a dog.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“Then why are you replying?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Very creative.”

“Do you ever just shut up?” She snaps. Her face inched closer to his.

Unbeknownst to her, for a second, a second that he’d never admit, Sirius' brain falters. They hadn’t been this close to each other since that day after Kettleburn had assigned their group project. He catches the smell of faint floral — tulips, he thinks. Or maybe vanilla? Books? Tea? He couldn’t place it.

But his heart did a funny thing. It never does a funny thing like that and it concerns him. He wasn’t sick, was he?

Silence lingers.

L/N scoffed, “Well finally, it looks like you have.”

Although, she seems completely unphased by their closeness.

“Huh, you really do shut up.”

He snorts, his brain finally working again. “You nag an awful lot.”

“Well, you —”

“Whiskers. You’re a woman, how do I look?” James asked. He came bouncing up to them across the hall from the entrance. He twirls a little, showing off his outfit. In one hand, he held a sign and a bunch of roses. “Would you fancy me?”

“Dropping hints, are we, Potter?” She smirks playfully, “Anyway, I know you nicked that from Sirius.”

Sirius looked over to him, his head nodding up and down but was surprised that she noticed the difference, “She’s right, that is mine. Maybe that’s why you look so good.” He meant for the remark to come off as a joke, but cringed as the words spewed from his mouth. He sounded like a complete arse. 

James ignores him, “I have everything planned.” Then, he holds up a sign, all in baby pink with hearts dancing across the page as a huge message declaring his affection for Emmeline was written in bold fonts. I looked fairly cheesy, but that was James for you. A romantic at heart.

“Well,” he starts, clearly happy, “Do you like it?! I’ve also got a song written!”

“Remember the last time you wrote someone a —”

Y/N kicked him, hard, under the table, which caused Sirius to look at her sharply before his face turned annoyed again. She hadn’t even glanced his way yet. She continued to calm James down, giving him a pep talk while Sirius would jump in with encouraging words.

“Of course we love it — is it for Lily or —”

James shakes his head and they both knew who he was referring to.

“— Then Emmeline will love it even more! Get the girl, Bambi!”

James smiled triumphantly, sticking his fist out for a fist bump before running off happily towards the Ravenclaw table.

“Y’know,” Y/N starts, talking to Sirius as they both watch as James gets up on the table, preparing to serenade Emmeline in front of the entire Great Hall with a guitar that vaguely looks like Remus’. “You can choose not to be a dick.”

Surprisingly, he laughed, small, but there. And then, he finds himself responding to her comments, “I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, feeling his mouth go dry. He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes fluttering shut a couple times. It didn’t help that she smirked at his reaction and it made Sirius feel funny. An odd swoop piddled at the base of his stomach.

“I’ll take that into consideration for later,” he settled on.

Remus and Lily waltzed into the room, both holding small cards of their own. L/N and Sirius shuffled over as much as they could to fit in with both Remus and Lily. 

A part of Sirius’ routine had started incorporating Lily doing his hair. Most often, she did pretty braids or buns — but of course, not without James pouting to him later. He only hoped that with Emmeline’s new presence, James would stop.

“Ooo la-la!” Y/N mocked, swiping one of the cards from Lily and Remus. “You two are popular.” She turned to face Lily.

“It’s n-nothing, really, “Lily stuttered, her head ducking down. But her eyes seemed to look up at her, seemingly in hope of some recognition.

“Don’t be so modest!”

“A-hem!” James’ bostal voice. His foot wobbled on the edge of the table that made them all nervous if he were to fall. He finally concluded his song. Lily looked over and smiled, glad to know that James had finally chosen a different target to annoy.

“Fuckin’ barmy,” Remus muttered out, a hand going to cover his mouth in suspense. His hand travelled down to his chin-stroking his jaw.

“Emmeline, thou beauty —”

“Oh my god,” groaned Remus again, sinking in his seat from the second embarrassment but smiling nevertheless.  

However, Marlene whopped loudly, a large grin on her face.

Lily looked over to the scene, her eyes finding their way back to L/N, Peter paled slightly at the scene, Marlene was howling in laughter along with Sirius.

But much like himself, L/N found herself laughing with them too.

Her laughter rang out, and Sirius found himself drawn to the noise. But what was worse, was that he wanted to hear it again.

And even though he knew that other women and even men were staring at him right now, ready to give him all their affection and attention, Sirius found himself unable to look away from her.

He felt his palms getting sweaty, his heart beat harder, he wanted to sit closer to her and a smile tugged at his lips but he forced it down.

Fuck.

It was almost as the realization hit him there like a thousand tidal waves.

His heart jumped, it sped up fast, he felt his skin heat and her laugh put him into a trance — everything like what James described it to feel like.

If it was what he thought it was, Sirius wasn’t quite pleased with his newfound knowledge. He already had too much shit to deal with and certainly, someone like her was not worth it.

As the thought arose, there was something else that pulled him from these thoughts; it was the very shit that Sirius was dealing with, coming to haunt him again.

Regulus entered the Great Hall and Sirius had the urge to run to the nearest bin again. He hadn’t seen him since that night.

Within seconds, Regulus sensed his gaze and their eyes locked.

He wasn’t proud of Regulus, if anything, Sirius resented him — hated him and his entire body spiked in anger as he stared at him. He chose his path. But he couldn’t help but feel immense, dreadful guilt.

He could’ve done more, been there for him more, talked to him more. There were so many possibilities, so many outcomes and Sirius managed to end up with one of the worst paths imaginable.

He both wanted to scoop him up in his arms, cry — hold onto him tight like how they used to years ago, but the other part also wanted to take a Beater’s bat and swing a Bludger at his head.

His head shook slightly, just enough for Regulus to get the hint.

There was a hard, hopeless expression on Regulus’ face as he seemed to take a sharp inhale, his shoulders slumping within every passing second.

They were from two separate worlds, more evident than ever now. They weren’t brothers, not really.

Two of the brightest stars were torn apart forevermore.

Once the bell rang, Sirius sprang out of his seat and walked down the halls. He dodged owls, letters, chocolates and even a few love potions. There was a familiar void that punched its way through Sirius’ chest.

It was too early for firewhiskey, he couldn’t get knackered, he couldn’t talk to James, not when he was this happy and getting a pack of smokes from Remus — he’d bloody know within seconds what was wrong and call a Marauder's meeting or sort out some intervention for his sanity. Besides, he needed to apologize to Peter for how he acted that morning.

So the next best thing; snogging — a quick shag.

The next girl that tossed a flirtatious wink his way, he immediately approached. She was pale, had brown hair, soft skin and he vaguely recognized her but couldn’t quite place it. They flirted, Sirius would suggest it, she smiled, nodding her head and giving out a breathless sigh as Sirius dove for her lips, walking into the nearest broom closet.

Things were fast, almost a blur. She reached down, fumbling with his buckle before it clanked to the floor; he unbuttoned her top, hoisting her up and pushing them against a wall. She let out soft whimpers and he groaned into her neck.

The sensation, the building pleasure had left as soon as it came, leaving him feeling empty once more. He peeled off the girl, checking if she was alright like every other time. He didn’t know her name, forgetting it, and smiled awkwardly as she dressed.

He watched her leave the broom closet, the door clicking softly behind her. He could hear the faint scuffle of her shoes as she skipped down the hall excitedly. She had gotten what she wanted, a piece of Sirius; the Sirius that he put out — the pretty, nicely packaged Sirius.

Bent down, sinking to the floor, rocking on the balls of his feet, arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his head resting on his knees; emotions pooled through Sirius, attacking his frail heart.

Sirius laughs; it was dry, sad, pathetic, defeated. It was hard enough to hide with smiles, pranks, the random girls, sex, but those happy hormones that he craved, it was never, ever enough.

He couldn't go on like this, he had to fix something because something else was bound to break.

His laughing became strained as the walls of his throat began to close, eyes filling with tears. But now, finally alone, he let them cascade freely as his quiet sobs echoed in the dusty closest.

Love isn’t a magic potion.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

【I hope it was clear in this chapter that in no way am I trying to romanticize Sirius's trauma】

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

30. Scared, potter ?

Prompt used- Grabbing onto their arm | FLUFF | Draco finally reveals how he fell in love with harry | can't believe I've already reached 30 days with these prompts.

Laughter cackled into the room with people draco had enormously grown to love. It's weird how fast time flies when you are surrounded by people who care about you regardless of how many shit days you may have and draco was a happy victim of it. All his life he had never cared for anyone else, treated them as if they were nothing untill he himself felt like one of those people, what it felt like to be nothing and he hated every second of it and when finally life gave him a second chance by a simple act of fate, he rose out the person who was completely opposite of who he used to be and he was proud of it and more proud were the people who once had hated him. It was a miracle how draco was sat amongst these people now, but he could not be more happier to reach where he is today and everyone he have right now. 5 years of learning, progress, trying to clear his name, he had finally became the person he wanted to be and love, it was just a small Miracle that happened by his side, so unpredictable but exactly what he needed and if there was one person who struck through it all was none other than, harry james Potter. His so called arch nemesis.

He met harry by a very simple mistake actually. One day he was serving coffee in a muggle coffee shop to pay his rent and the next day he knew he had almost been fired for spilling coffee over someone, and obviously that someone had to be harry. They got to talking about how different lives were, how difficult and yet they had the most complex similarities. It took harry exactly 9 months and 3 days during draco's final trials to get a job for him in the auror office, claiming if they didn't take him it would one of the most stupid choice they'd ever make because they'd lose a brilliant mind. Draco's first instincts were obviously disliking harry for doing something like that for him and maintained distance as much as he could but showed his gratitude in different ways like anonymously sending harry his favourite deserts every Friday and cup of coffee every morning. It wasn't until they both had been paired up for a mission related to a death Eater that they collided once again. According to the recruiters, it was important they had someone who was familiar with the death Eater ways, draco and a person they feared the most who vanquished the dark lord, harry. One scene to another, the tension building up one day led them into fighting and eventually resulted in them not talking until during the end of the mission when Draco got fatal injury, not because of the case but because of a muggle driver basically hitting draco. Eventually harry had to assign the mission to officials under him and draco being on bed rest, since it was a muggle injury and treating it the wizarding ways could've possibly been a hindrance in his 100 percent recovery.

And now this is where they are, sitting on top of the grimauld place, on its roof , lit up by almost 70 golden fairy lights, sheltered by a silver tent with a bunch of their friends and families assembled for the rehearsal dinner, or so the muggle called. It was just a last party from harry potter and draco malfoy.

Neville clinked his work lightly on his champagne glass raising it " Time for toast"

Draco cleared his throat grabbing attention from everyone across the table. Harry looked at him, bewildered since he definitely didn't knew Draco planned this.

" I'd like to take a few moments from all of you for this. I- I am blessed to have you all in my life and I met most of you when my life hit rock bottom and through it all, you guys have supported me unconditionally and I'm forever in debt for that"

They all raised their glasses in appreciation.

" and to you harry, tomorrow morning I will be pronouncing my vows and I know we've practically written them together, I can assure you no words are ever enough to what I feel for you. I've met you by a simple act of fate and it is my choice to choose my destiny to spend the rest of my life loving you just like you love me.

I met harry 6 years 3 months and exactly 25 days ago. I was merely counting the days of my life to make it through all of it and by far that day had been a huge blessing. A lot of you have asked me when did I realise I was in love with him and I've Always said that it was somewhere along the way but the truth is I have been saving this answer my whole life for this specific day. 3 years ago when I got hit by a car and had stitches up and down my body, 2 fractures and almost a broken nose, thank goodness for that though, I love my nose, harry being the absolute gentlemen he is, dropped the damn case to take care of my lousy ass. So this one day during my 1 month bed rest, harry had been late and I was absolutely glad he was because of ego issues, I heard my bell rang, I got up and took sometime to reach the door and by the time I had even checked who it was, the person had left, leaving a parcel in my letter box. Being me, I went downstairs to pick it up and just as I started to go back upstairs, a floor below mine I almost rolled down the stairs and guess who was the knight in shining armour, harry. He ranted the hell out of me for choosing to do that and simply grabbed my hand, put it around his neck and carried me back up. The entire day he kept bashing on about what would've happened if he wasn't there. That's when I fell In love. It wasn't magical or something as people describe it, I felt what I had been deprived of my whole life, care and love. The way he just went on and on about it, just showed me how much he cared and the same exact night he stayed over claiming he is never leaving my fucking ass alone, guess he took that too seriously by the way, I fell in love that night of him scolding me. And that's the answer I've saved up all these years. And I'm pretty sure harry is still never leaving my fucking ass alone if in future I get injured, just the consequences and situations would be far different " and draco raised his glass again.

" to harry and draco " Ron grinned, his arms wrapped around Blaise's waist.

" to harry and draco " everyone cheered

" to us " they silently whispered smiling at each other, with a look in their eyes, that was simply just their own, their love.

" I actually can't believe you took an entire minute to make this speech with basically no phrases such as electricity running through or how admirable harry looked. I means it's all sorta sparky " Ron joked. A few people around him laughed too including harry and draco.

As time went on, when everyone was almost done with dinner and simply hanging away slow dancing, chatting, making jokes, harry intertwined his fingers with those of draco's under the table and rested his head against draco's shoulder. Draco looked on his side to see his fiance finding his comfort in his neck. Smiling to himself, draco pressed a long kiss on top of Harry's head, bringing their hands to his lips and kissing over Harry's knuckles before resuming laughing at yet another one of Ron's jokes.

By midnight everyone had started to go downstairs in the house to crash over and a few of them leaving. Finishing up with the cleaning harry and draco too finally departed to their seperate bedrooms as per before marriage rituals. It was almost half an hour later when Draco heard a soft knock on his door. He opened the door cautiously to find harry standing there with a small smile.

" breaking the rules as usual " draco smirked as he turned around to let harry in behind him.

" well, that's just who I am. Besides your room have a nice balcony. Could use it " harry said as he shut the door softly and followed draco.

Draco finally turned smiling at his fiance, just staring at harry until he pulled them into the balcony, letting the moon wash over their bodies, making Harry's eyes sparkle more and draco's hair looking softer than usual.

" can you actually believe, we're getting married in less than 24 hours " draco said as he looked at the sky.

" it doesn't seem so different, does it ?" Harry asked as he stepped closer to draco and grabbing his hands to intertwine their fingers again.

" it doesn't " draco smiled as he kissed Harry's forehead. He too smiled at Draco and finally hugged draco, his arms hanging loosely around his waist , his head rested against draco's chest to hear the faint loveliest sound of his heartbeat. Draco put his chin on top of Harry's head, his arms too hanging loosely around Harry's back and just staying there like that.

" can I ask you something ?" Harry finally asked after moments of silence while watching the moon, different memories, different thoughts running in their own heads.

Draco hummed in response. Harry looked up at Draco, staring blankly as if he was trying to find something, but there was no freckle or a mole or anything left on draco's face yet for him to discover. He knew Draco better than he knew himself and it was just a small proud achievement.

" during that speech, you said something about saving your answer for this day, did you know we'd ever reach this far ?"

Draco pouted looking behind harry deciding on how to phrase it.

" I didn't. If this were to ever end, the secret would've died with me but I knew the only time I'd ever reveal it would the day before our marriage. And I did "

" so you Always wanted to get married ?"harry asked curiously in a Playful way.

" I think yeah. I never had anything close to having what we have, I'd had been a fool not to imagine whatever comes next " draco smiled at harry fondly, his hands tightening around his waist.

Harry looked at Draco amazed. Despite being together for so long, being with each other was Always a different adventure each day and this was their kind of adventure.

" when did you knew you loved me ?" Draco finally asked not looking away from harry.

" well- I think it was during the time you joined DMLE. Those deserts every Friday and the cup of coffee, they had the same handwriting on the Little notes you put into the desert box and on the coffee cup, I knew they were from you long before you told me, courtesy of stalking you all around 6th year "

" So you were obsessed with me " draco teased smirking.

" whatever helps you sleep at night " harry chuckled before he pressed his head against draco's chest again and stayed there in silence until harry had finally gone to his own bedroom, as silently as he had came.

The next day when harry and Draco finally stood against each other on the alter, after the vows, the ring ceremony, the speeches, the minister finally claimed

" I now pronounce you husband and husband, you may kiss each other "

Harry smirked at Draco holding his hands

" scared potter ?"

" you wish, Malfoy " draco smirked back.

And then they kissed, promising an eternity of love that even this life wasn't enough..

Requests open. This might be one of my favourite ones.

Day 29- sweet, sexy and practically fainting | Day 31- would you come back to me

[mimizepp]

may i request poly bruabba relationship hcs if you’re okay writing that ? 😛

i can never get enough bruabba goddamn i love them so much.. fluff + nsfw hcs and i added some scenarios for how the relationship came to be just for some fic practice i guess? enjoy !!! (also sorry my nsfw headcanons are never great but i tried)

poly bruabba relationship hcs

- bruno and abbacchio always saw their soon to be s/o in libeccio, alone most days but sometimes joined by a friend or two. they sat at a table relatively close to + facing the entrance, visible to anybody walking in 

- half due to suspicion, abbacchio always made unbreaking eye contact with s/o. it wasn’t anything threatening but he surely didn’t make himself appear too friendly. the way s/o never failed maintain this mutual gaze intrigued abbacchio, enough to tell bruno about this strangely sexy person of interest

- bruno was equally compelled to s/o, and even started to subtly express his interest once he and abba discussed the possibility of a polyamorous relationship

- bruno would slow down as he passed by s/o, just barely dragging a long finger along the table as he gave a soft, bidding smile. abba would follow behind, a mellower expression than usual, which s/o returned

- little bouts of small talk sprouted from this, s/o charming the hell out of bruno and abbacchio. s/o would occasionally join abbacchio outside for a quiet smoke, which he thought to be quite endearing

- for a while s/o never joined bruno nor abbacchio for a proper meal, as they were always with their associates or whatnot. it was a tad disappointing and s/o almost felt as if this friendliness between the three would never become anything more, but one morning bruno and abbacchio walked in libeccio, abba going the usual way and bruno approaching s/o

- ‘cara/caro, would you care to join us somewhere more private?’

- after melting under that sweet, familiar voice of reason, s/o gladly followed. in the private area sat abbacchio at a table in the corner, bruno escorting s/o to a seat beside him. abbacchio smirked and poured s/o a cup of (NON PISS) tea before questioning them about loads of things

- before s/o knew it, they were in a poly relationship with two of the sexiest gang members in italy

fluff

- abbacchio softens up a bunch and always has this understated, loving expression when with bruno and s/o

- bruno becomes even more of a mommy and loooves babying s/o and abba on their days off

- YES THIS MEANS HE LETS THEM SIT AROUND AS HE DOES EVERYTHING FOR THEM IT’S HIS PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE AND ITS SO SWEET

- if he’s been overworked due to passione business, s/o and abba like to take care of him for the day so he can unwind 

- bruno and abba feel really bad that they have to leave s/o for work so often so they’re always calling to check in + love bringing little gifts home for their s/o

- if bruno and abba come home exhausted / beat from work they’ll cuddle up with s/o and form a little bruabba nap sandwich for a little while

- if s/o’s back is ever turned, either bruno or abba will be going in for a soft little embrace just for a few moments (or longer if they feel like chatting and swaying for a bit)

- bruno and abba love bringing s/o to libeccio, whether it’s to accompany them in meetings with the bucci boys or just for a comfortable meal together (it also just reminds them of how this beautiful little relationship came to be)

- btw the bucci boys really like s/o + love how abbacchio softens up when s/o is present (saves giorno from constant berating and glares)

- little comforting things with hands are all the pda abba is able to tolerate (there will be arms wrapped around waists, hands resting on lower backs, and hands held AT ALL TIMES)

- s/o and bruno love teasing abba and like to kiss one another in public, just to see if he will want to get a peck of his own (leone usually doesn’t induldge himself when they’re out but will defo be glaring with an eyebrow raised until s/o and bruno stop)

- one time s/o just went for it and placed a little kiss on abbacchio’s cheek + bruno took a photo just as abba’s face was its deepest shade of red

- if any single one of the lot is sleepy, all three are required to cuddle up and get cozy (it’s an unspoken poly bruabba rule)

- the same goes for little kisses at home. if abba gets three, then bruno gets three... etc.

- s/o and bruno often wake before abba and love surprising him with breakfast in bed :,)

- just once did abba wake up super early and try to surprise his babies with a meal... he burnt everything and was later found on the kitchen floor sipping a glass of wine and eating a blackened piece of toast

- abbacchio likes doing his hair and makeup in the quiet company of s/o + bruno (who will be doing whatever necessary to make sure his braid + bob are up to par)

- abbacchio sometimes gets really indecisive and asks s/o and bruno if he should try out his black or green lipstick, but he always ends up going with his safe choice despite anything said (light purple)

- on lazy days at home abba ties his hair back loosely and wears a large tshirt with boxer briefs and some comfy ass slippers + bruno has his hair styled very slightly and wears a cute little sweater with comfy pj pants. s/o wears one of abba’s large tshirts with just undies underneath as well as some fuzzy socks

- bruno is often dreaming of having children with s/o and abba + really wants to have a nice little house to raise them in the countryside someday

- dates are usually planned by bruno, who loves having s/o and abba in cute family-owned restaurants or niche little locations that he knows his babies would adore

- abbacchio has planned several wine tasting dates along with a few afternoon picnics. he always takes s/o and bruno to this quiet, secluded park that has the loveliest view

- sometimes abba and s/o tirelessly try to come up with ways to surprise bruno + thank him for all his hard work as a milf, and they normally end up trying to cook his favorite meal (bruno is so grateful for this even if it doesn’t taste the nicest.. he loves the sentiment though and his heart feels so FULL)

- bruno says ‘i love you’ not only through his words, but also with his touch. s/o can always tell when bruno is embracing them in a way that communicates such a feeling, whether it be a kiss on the forehead or the squeeze of a hand. he most often likes to stand behind s/o with his hands on their hips, so he can lean in to kiss their cheek and bring his arms around their waist and hug them as tight as possible

- abba says ‘i love you’ with his eyes and facial expressions. whenever doing daily / domestic tasks with s/o, abba holds the warmest, most adoring look on his face as he looks at his dearest. s/o always meets his eyes and blushes before reminding abba how much they love him, to which abba responds with a light ‘mm’ full of intimacy

nsfw

- as much as s/o abba and bruno hate to admit it... jealousy and lust are MAJOR players in the bedroom

- bruno gave s/o more attention than he gave abbacchio? abba’s making sure he gets his share of it and has the two follow his every demand + won’t let them finish until they’re begging for it with tears in their eyes

- so many hickies / love bites EVERYWHERE

- also loads of purple kisses will be all over s/o and bruno’s chests

- abbacchio loooves having s/o take him from behind as bruno plays with himself (and vice-versa)

- ‘bruno can’t wait for his turn to get inside you... i know you’d love that, you fucking whore.’

- abbacchio likes being pegged by bruno while giving s/o oral more than he’d like to admit + still won’t let s/o or bruno finish until he wants them to

- whenever pegged by bruno or s/o he usually gets super bratty and loves being punished with many slaps on the ass / accross his face

- shibari.

- abba will intricately tie s/o with their hands bound behind their back. he and bruno will have a liiittle too much fun teasing s/o until they’re nearly crying +  begging one of the two to fuck them senseless

- if bruno ever gets to take the lead he makes it much slower and intimate most times, focusing loads on foreplay

- he likes having s/o and abba wear blindfolds so they never know where his next touch will come from + is always down to tease with some nipple play

- looooves lightly tracing his fingers down s/o and abba’s torsos until he reaches their inner thighs and watching his babies shudder beneath him

- if s/o or abba ever whine during foreplay or lean into his touch, bruno will punish them by making the other cum first and then edging the impatient party until he’s satisfied

- ‘hm, it seems you’re coming close, amore mio.’ he will cease movement completely and smirk, ‘i’ll let you finish soon enough.’

- abbacchio likes cumming inside s/o or bruno, but doesn’t mind having to pull out and finish in their mouth or on their chest

- bruno loooves finishing all over s/o and abbacchio while they have their mouths wide open and waiting for him

- as for what happens after sexytime, abba is the first to get sleepy and ask s/o to cuddle + bruno goes and gets towels and some glasses of water for his two favorite people

- s/o bruno and abba will cuddle for a little while and make sure each of the three is satisfied and soothed + then they’ll all lovingly drift off to sleep at some point during the night

- they will all be showering together quite sensually in the morning with plenty of sudsy groping

[emeralddaydream]

Hey, misty plz i'm gay

absolutely!! hope u enjoy!!

Misty x GN!Reader

Flowers In Her Hair

Word Count 817

Rating: General

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff🥺

The sun shines dimly through the trees from where you sit on the edge of the bank. The toes of one of your feet skim gently back and forth through the water as you try to focus on the task at hand. The messy blond curls clouding your vision bounce gently, as you run your fingers through them. A strand bounces back to hit you in the face as Misty turns her head to the sky, watching a couple of pelicans as they fly overhead.

“Honey,” you scold with a small sigh, gently turning her head back to its previous position. “If you want me to finish this without accidentally ripping your hair out, I need you to stop moving.” You focus once more on the strand in your hand, picking up one of the small purple flowers that lies in your lap before weaving it gently through the thick locks.

“Y/N” Misty giggles, reaching back from where she sits in front of you to pat your knee gently. “You know if I wanted to, I could have done this all myself in about ten seconds, right?” She wiggles her fingers back at you and you roll your eyes.

“I can stop any time you want,” you reply, tongue gently poking out between your teeth in concentration as you grab another flower, entwining with and placing it next to the previous one.

“Please don’t,” she answers, squeezing your knee gently, where her hand still rests. “You know how I love when you play with my hair.”

With a laugh, you shake your head, placing a gentle kiss against her shoulder. “Well then, will you please just stay still? I only have a few more…”

The next several minutes are filled with a comfortable silence as your fingers weave gently through your girlfriend’s hair, pausing every once in awhile to pick another delicate bud from your lap as you continue placing them throughout the golden halo that is Misty’s gorgeous waves. She has the most beautiful hair in the world, in your opinion; the color of wheat seeming to explode against the crown of her head. It fits her personality well, you think; wild and beautiful, just like her.

“Alright… and I am done,” you declare, fanning her hair out against her back so that you can admire your work. Misty turns then, a sweet smile on her lips as she looks back at you, grabbing at a strand of her own hair and looking down to see the string of blossoms that fall against the curls there, the deep purple and blues of the petals contrasting against her strands of gold in the loveliest way.

“You’re an angel,” you whisper, not realizing you’ve said anything out loud until Misty giggles, turning in your arms so that she’s able to reach back, cupping your face in her hands.

“I’m a witch,” she corrects, bumping her nose against yours playfully. With a grin, you reach out brush your thumb over her jawline, cupping her face there.

“The most beautiful witch I’ve ever seen,” you reply, and the smile that lights up her face then is nearly enough to make you melt into a puddle and join the water sloshing against your foot. You lean in, pressing your lips to her own in a sweet kiss and feel her grin growing underneath you as she sighs into it, both of you closing your eyes, completely losing yourselves in the moment.

You’re not sure how long the two of you are sat there, lost in your love for each other, but when you finally do pull back, it isn’t to catch your breath, but out of surprise when you feel a few small droplets of cold hitting your forehead. When you look up at the sky once more, you see that it has turned completely gray, thick black clouds rolling in. The rain begins to fall more freely then, and a flash of lightning in the distance startles you, making you jump; from beside you, Misty squeezes your hand comfortingly, breathing more heavily than before.

“Let’s get home,” she declares, standing quickly, before reaching down to help you back to your feet. Once you’re stable, she wraps her arms around your waist, rocking the both of you back and forth gently. “We can light some candles, listen to some Stevie… maybe take a bath?” The hopeful look in her eyes makes you giggle; whether or not she agrees, she really is an angel.

“Of course, baby,” you reply, leaning in for one more lingering kiss as rain begins to pour down more heavily. A clap of thunder rolls overhead and you pull back, tugging on the witch’s hand in mock-urgency. “Let’s get out of here before your hair gets completely ruined…” With a smirk, she follows, both of you laughing wildly as you run back to the shack through the downpour.

[mediocre-writerr]

anyone else [dani clayton]

Dani Clayton x fem reader

Summary: Y/N and Dani met through their mutual friend Jamie and instantly started a relationship. However, Dani starts feeling a little jealous at the two girls friendship.

*not my gif*

You sat on the chairs of the greenhouse with your best friend Jamie. Sipping proper English tea and not the poison that your girlfriend Dani would usually make. A plate of scones on the table in front of you, just enjoying the dewy morning. 

“Where’s Poppins anyway?” Jamie asks breaking the silence.

“I think she’s still asleep,” you say shrugging, taking another sip of your tea. 

“Long night, last night eh?” she asks and let out a soft laugh careful to not wake anyone up. 

“Maybe, maybe not.” you reply with a little wink and she pretends to throw up, you let out another laugh at her reaction. 

“You’re so annoying!” she says pushing your shoulder lightly. 

“If you were here last night, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything though. We had to keep it somewhat PG so the kids won’t hear.” you add on continue to make her grossed out. 

“Oi fuck off already!” she yells loudly and pushes you again. 

But you don’t stop you keep pushing and making up somewhat fake stories just to make her grossed out. Until she finally cracked, she got up from out of her comfortable spot on the chair and started to to tickle you in all the places that you were ticklish in the most. 

You and Jamie have been best friends for as long as you could remember. Probably since primary school when she moved there because of her foster family and you were inseparable since then. There were times where Jamie would just stay at your house because of how terrible the foster family actually was. You became as close as regular sisters. 

And when she started working at Bly you met everyone and knew all of the gossip because of how often you were there. You’ve seen Flora and Miles turn from sweethearts to little shites who you don’t love any less. You were there for the most toxic relationship of Peter and Rebecca. And to watch Owen and Hannah’s relationship blossom. 

Then you met the new au pair: Dani freakin’ Clayton. The quirky blonde haired American who makes terrible tea. 

“Y/N!” Flora and Miles scream as they see you step out of you car in front of their beautiful manor that was now filled with haunting memories. 

You knelt down onto the gravel and held your arms open for the two kids, “Hello kids!” They crash into both sides of your arms and embrace you in a hug. 

“I want you to meet someone perfectly splendid,” Flora says looping her arm with yours as she guides you into the house. 

“Oh is that right?” you ask looking down at the little girl.

“Hey Flora, who’s this?” you look up from Flora to the sound of an unknown voice. 

You were met with a blonde haired beauty and your heart stopped at the sight. She had vivacious blue eyes and had a cute little smile that could light up the whole world. 

You un-loop your arm from Flora’s before extending your hand out to her, “Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a really good friend of Jamie’s.”

She shakes your hand and electricity coursed through your body, “Dani Clayton, I’m the new au pair.” your heart drops at the word thinking back to when Rebecca said the same thing. 

You felt someone’s hand pat your shoulder hard, “So I see that you two have been acquainted.” your hear Jamie say and you hesitantly release Dani’s hand not wanting the feeling to go away before turning to your best friend. 

“Yeah,” I say with a smile and Jamie nods. 

“Alright then well I need your help in the greenhouse, if you don’t mind.” she says immediately whisking you away from the au pair. 

You turn your head back to look at her and she was staring back at you in curiosity. You smile at her and send her a small wink before turning back around and following Jamie.

“What’s going on here?” Dani asks her hair in a braid, wearing one of the red shirts she stole from you when you spent the night at your flat, and shorts.

Jamie stopped tickling immediately backing away with a smile on her face as she brushed the hair from off her face. Dani came and sat in your lap as you wrapped your arms around her waist, hooking your chin on your shoulder. 

“Your little shite of a girlfriend here is annoying me so I tickled her because that’s only way I can get her to stop.” Jamie says going back to drinking her tea and shaking her head.

Dani look back at you and you shrug, “What? It was funny!” you exclaim and Jamie throws a scone at your head. You pick it up and throw it back at her all of the crumbs crumbling as it hit her chest, “Ha! Bullseye!” 

Jamie got up from off the chair and wiped the crumbs off her shirt and pants, “I’ll get you back for that Y/L/N, you better watch your back!” she points at you before going off to change. 

You turn your attention back to Dani who was staring at you with a soft smile on your face. You placed a soft little kiss onto her jaw and her smile widened. 

“Good morning, my darling,” you whisper into her ear and you feel goosebumps start to arise on her skin and you smile at the reaction. 

“Good morning.” she replies sighing contently as her back leaned into your front. She turned her head and you both met halfway before sharing a short yet sweet kiss. 

“Y/N, where are we going?” Dani whispers to you as you lead her to your favorite spot to just clear your head when you’re at the manor. The spot you only shared with Rebecca. 

“My favorite spot,” you reply shrugging, “If you ever need a break from the kids, this is where you can go to escape. Only I know about this spot so there won’t be any intruders. 

You set up a cute little picnic spot for the two of you to go on for your first official date. You two have been flirting back and forth since you’ve met and you finally gathered up enough courage to ask her on a real date. 

“Oh Y/N, this is lovely!” she says looking at you in awe.

“Well I wanted it to be just as lovely as you, but I realized that nothing can be as lovely as you because you are the most loveliest person on the planet.” you respond taking a hold of her hand as you see a blush arise on her fair skin. 

“Thank you.” she whispers and you nod.

“You don’t have to thank me for reminding you that you’re beautiful. You’re always gonna be beautiful in my eyes.” you whisper.

You two sat onto the picnic blanket and you had a thermos of proper english tea along with some of her favorite snacks that Owen has made. You talk about everything and nothing at the same time, sometimes she just laid there in your arms as you looked at the night sky, enjoying each other’s presence. 

Her arm would be wrapped around your torso as her head laid on you chest listening to the soft beats of your heart. A blanket over the both of you as the cool breeze filled the night air.

After the date you walked her back to the front of the manor, “I had a lovely time tonight,” she said grabbing a hold of both of your hands.

“I did too. I would like to do this again one time if you would like.” you whisper. 

“I’d really like that.” she replies her smile widening. 

“Goodnight Dani.” you whisper, but before you could let go of her she cupped both of her cheeks in her hands and she kissed you softly. 

The feeling of her lips on yours sending the butterflies running wild as your legs turned into jelly. Her lips were soft as your childhood blanket you’ve always loved. You placed your hands on her waist pulling her closer into you not wanting the moment to stop. 

Eventually she pulled away and rest her forehead on yours, “Goodnight Y/N” 

“Goodnight Dani.” you whisper back. 

She heads inside and you walk towards you car making the lonely ride to your flat. Once you got home you immediately dialed Jamie. 

“Jamie...” you say sounding uneasy on the phone.

“What do you need Y/L/N?” she asks. 

“I think I’m in love.” you respond. 

There’s a long silence on the phone before she finally replied, “Shit.” 

“Y/N! Are you ready to help me garden or are you gonna sit on your lazy ass all day with Poppins?!” Jamie yelled from the door of the greenhouse.

You laughed lightly, “Yeah I’m coming!” you turn to the beautiful girl that’s right in front of you, “I’ll see you at lunch okay?” 

“Okay.” she whispers giving you a small kiss. 

“Alright lovebirds fuck off!” Jamie yells and you flip her off before wrapping her arm around her shoulder as you two walked off together.

Beside your knowledge Dani didn’t really like that. She loved and was an awe of you and your friendship with Jamie, but sometimes you were too close for comfort for her liking. She never brought it up to you, but she was secretly scared about losing you to Jamie. Especially after she heard a conversation between you and Jamie before you started dating officially. 

“You can’t keep flirting with her!” Jamie yells. 

“Why not?!” you throw your hands up in rage at your best friend’s behavior. 

You’re usually not too mad about her usual protective behavior, but it hasn’t been this bad. 

Jamie and you were complete opposites: she thought that people were exhaustive even the good ones, but you thought that humans were some of the most adorable things in the world and that all of them are worth fighting for, even the bad ones. 

Jamie swore to herself that she would protect that precious little heart of yours, even if you were exhaustive. That’s how much she cared for you. So when she found out that you were in love with Dani, she was a little skeptical and it blew up.

“You know exactly why Y/N!” Jamie points at you and you shake your head remembering back to the time where you got your heartbroken you weren’t in the right mindset. 

You face softened at her comment and her angry eyes were now filled with concerned as you looked deeper into the problem, “Jamie, that’s not gonna happen again.” you say stepping closer to her and rubbing her arms.

“I know. I just I worry, the last time you were in love with someone it didn’t end well.” she whispers which makes it inaudible for Dani who was listening nearby, “But what if it does? And there’s no us anymore. I almost lost you once, I can’t bear the thought of almost losing you again,” she says speaking up just a little. 

“It won’t, I promise.” you say as you take your best friend into your arms. 

Dani took that as her cue to go and thought that she lost you for good, but by her surprise you asked her out for another date. 

“Y/L/N, I need your help with these flowers over here!” Jamie yells from the other side or the garden. 

“Alright coming!” you yell and you see her kneeling in front of the rose bush.

“I cant pull this one out, can your try? It’s really jammed in there.” she complains throwing her glove onto the ground.

“Calm down, I got it.” you reply kneeling down to the spot she was once at.

You’re about to pull out the flower when you feel a cool rush of water being dumped over your head. You let out a small little scream and see Jamie holding the bucket backing away slowly like she’s about to take off running. And she does.

You chase her around the garden until you find the hose. You turn it on and start spraying her with it. A scream coming from her mouth this time and it causes her to slow down in her tracks. You throw the hose on the ground and finally catch up to her. Wrapping your arms around her waist you lift her up and spin her around. 

“Y/L/N! Put me down!” she yells slapping your arms, but you continue to spin around. 

“What’s going on?” Dani asks for the second time today, but this time she looks angry.

“Nothing just classic banter.” you respond setting Jamie down.

“No, no I don’t think that’s it!” she answers raising her voice lightly taking you and Jamie aback, “What is going on between the two of you?!” 

“Nothing darling, absolutely nothing.” you say taking a step towards her.

“No! There’s something going on and I want to know what!” she yells.

“Poppins calm down, me and Y/N are just best friends, you know that.” Jamie says trying to mediate the conversation.

“I don’t believe you! If you’re not going to be honest with me then I don’t think I can do this anymore Y/N.” she responds tears brimming your eyes and your heart drops into your stomach. 

“I think you should tell her the truth about what happened before you met,” Jamie whispered since you were still in earshot, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” she says louder giving both of us a nod before making her way inside. 

You start walking towards the fountain in the middle of the garden and you gesture for her to follow you which she does. Both of you take a seat at the fountain, the silence filled with tension, it was deafening.

“So you’re right, I haven’t been completely honest with you, but it has nothing to do with Jamie. There is nothing romantic going on between me and Jamie, never has been, never will be. She has always been like a sister to me and the thought of anything romantic going on with her kinda makes me sick.” you joke trying to lighten the mood and she has a tight lipped smile on her face.

“What haven’t you been honest about then?” she asks and you nod before looking towards the lake. 

“Rebbeca, Jamie, and I were inseparable, we had each other’s backs; Jamie didn’t find the need to get to know Rebecca when she first started the job as the new au pair, but I took her under my wing. I showed her the in’s and out’s of Bly Manor. I’m not going to lie to you when I first met her I was instantly attracted to her, but I never pushed my feelings or flirted her with anyway. I was shy about it.” you explain not wanting to look her in the eye. 

“I was about to tell her how I felt when she told me about her relationship with Peter. And our friendship slowly grew more distant the more time she spent with him. I thought I was in love with her though and I told Jamie and she was scared for me. If anyone got in the way of what Peter Quint wanted it would be hell. She was also scared that I’d get my heartbroken.” my words got caught in my throat as I reminisced the old memories.

Dani took your hands in hers and squeezed it lightly to let her know that she was there for you even if you wouldn’t look at her. You squeezed her hand back three times, something you and Jamie used to do whenever one of you were sad, to let each other know that we love them even if we don’t say it. You haven’t confessed that to Dani yet so three squeezes is enough for now.

“So how do you think I felt when I found her dead body floating in the lake with Flora just watching? It was hard to handle, it was hard to deal with because I was constantly blaming myself. Because maybe, just maybe, if I had told her about my feelings, if I had the courage, if I swooped in right before Peter did, she would still be here today,” you scoffed shaking your head, “The what if’s ate me alive as time went on. I constantly found myself at the pub drinking my sorrows away and one time I drove home, still very much drunk and I got into an accident and almost died.”

“Since that day, Jamie has sworn to protect me and the only family she has left. That’s why we’re so close because we grew up together and if she loses me, she’ll feel like she lost everyone,” you finally look her in the eyes as a couple tears dripped down your face, “But I can promise you with everything in me that I don’t want anyone else. How am I supposed to think about anyone else when I have you?” 

Dani smiles at you ever so softly as she takes the pads of her thumbs to wipe away the sorrows of the painful memories, “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I was just scared because I am so scared of losing you. I never felt this strongly about anyone not even Edmund. I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve love you.” she whispers. 

You smile widely at her confession before cupping her face and pulling her in for a kiss. The world seemed to stop and stare at the beautiful sight. Dani’s lips felt like everything good and right in the world. Like nothing bad could ever touch you if you just had her. 

You pull away breathless as the feeling of dizziness started to fill your head at the passionate kiss, “I love you Dani Clayton.” 

She has the same reaction you do with her bright wide smile that you fell in love with the moment you saw it. She leaned in to kiss you again this time more soft and gentle. Then another, and another, and another.

“Oi lovebirds! There’s people watching! Cut it out!” Jamie yells looking annoyed, but you can tell by the smile on her face she’s happy you found someone who truly loves you.

[kim-ruzek]

Contentedness

Summary: Antonio Dawson is back in town for a charity event, and gets to meet baby burzek.

Established Burzek, AU as it goes off the premise Kim never miscarried.

Word Count: 3.2k words

Read on AO3

Notes: This is just a lil fun fic, mostly formed from a conversation with Cíara (as, tbh, most of my fics now are!) @justanoffalygirl

I hope y'all enjoy!

Kim doesn’t know how life gets better than this.

It’s a warm spring day, the beginnings of summer starting to break through. She’s in the park, on one of the spacious fields, surrounded many of the people she loves so dearly, soaking in the sound of laughter and playful banter that fills the air.

Days like this, to be around so many people on her day off, are few and far in-between. She’s only recently begun to be more adventurous with where she goes, and how long she stays out, and when already it’s so hard to get everyone together with their own shifts and lives, it’s hard to organise. So when opportunities like this come about, Kim leaps at the chance, especially when it’s doing something for charity.

And if that hadn’t already made her commit to attending, learning that this was an event organized by a charity the Dawson siblings were involved in would’ve. Antonio and Gabby might’ve left Chicago, and maybe not on the best of terms, but the first responders of Chicago are a family, and so the Dawsons’ will always be their family as well.

Kim admits, at first she was a little reluctant to see Antonio. They were partners, they had been through so much together, and he had just...left. Without a word to her. She’ll always be happy for him, that he got himself clean, that he patched back up his life, but she can’t ignore how betrayed she felt at him just leaving. Especially with what happened in her life after.

But she finds it so hard to keep onto those feelings, not when, despite the lack of sleep, despite the way it’s made her have to relearn her own ethics and morals, despite turning her world on it’s head, Kim’s never been more happy, more content with how her life is.

The reason for her happiness squirms in her arms, and Kim looks down at her daughter. Alice Ruzek is only ten months, but Kim can’t remember what her life was like without her in it. Alice, or Ally as Adam affectionately nicknamed her from day one, has changed her life in so many ways.

No longer does she stay up late for fun, the way Kim used to think she was behind on shows with just her job now seems like a dream, her head is full of Children’s lullabies and Alice’s cries, and she can’t count how many times her and Adam has had such stupid yet infuriating squabbles about things just because of lack of sleep or stress from being away from her for too long.

But all of that pales in comparison to how the sound of her laughter, her babbles, is the most beautiful sound Kim has ever heard, to how Kim could stare into her eyes all day, to how seeing Adam holding their daughter, rocking her, singing to her is the most loveliest sight she has ever seen.

To how Alice has managed to do the one thing they’ve struggled to do for years, to make them learn how to be partners, to communicate, to not let the little things matter, and have allowed them to realise just how much they need each other, to be each other’s person. To how Alice has truly completed their lives, how she’s brought them peace and love neither knew was possible.

“Kim!” The sound of Antonio’s voice drags her away from cooing at her baby girl, and she turns around, ready to greet him. They had briefly seen each other when he was at the precinct the other day, but intelligence had a case and he was busy, so they hadn’t been able to say more than a hello to each other. Kim’s been here at the picnic for half an hour, enough for Alice to be cooed over by her various aunts and uncles, having only been left alone, now. Kevin had stolen away Adam—the only person who could distract Adam from his daughter—to help him, and Kim had been just enjoying the moment before she was going to go over to friends.

Antonio looks good, healthy, relaxed. She had thought so when she saw him the other day, but she can truly appreciate just how much good Puerto Rico and charity work has done for him now, when he’s dressed casually, and out in the sun.

Kim grins at him, happy she did decide to put aside all her hurt feelings on how he left. He’s grinning at her too, but as he reaches her and she turns fully around, his grin falls off, shock overtaking his face. She’s only confused at the change of his demeanour for a second, as before she can wonder too long, he’s speaking again.

“You’ve had a baby! Congratulations!” He exclaims, happiness for her replacing the confusion. Kim doesn’t wonder for a moment how he was so easily able to deduce that Alice is her’s, and not someone else’s that she’s just holding, having had way too many people tell her just how much her daughter looks like her. It’s something Kim does agree with, but at the same time, all she can focus on is all the ways she looks like Adam, loving how she’s a beautiful mix of the two of them.

Kim smiles down at Alice, her perfect daughter, before looking back at Antonio. “That I have,”

“Seriously, Kim. This is amazing news; I’m so happy for you. Parenthood is one of the best, fulfilling things you can ever do. And she’s so beautiful,” Antonio says, his words warming her heart. It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before, but she never tires at it, and hearing Antonio, her partner, one of the first people in intelligence to believe in her as a cop, say how happy he is for her is particularly heart-warming.

“So I’ve heard,” Kim replies. She had. Everyone and their mother had told her just how fulfilling parenthood is. A lot of the time it had come unsolicited, often with advice she didn’t ask for, nor want, but the times it came from someone she cares about—like Natalie, Voight, Herrmann—she really appreciated it.

Kim introduces Alice to him after that, Antonio immediately questioning, correctly, if her name is a little nod to Alvin, and he coos over her a little, holding her as they catch up.

The day progresses at that, Gabby coming over and meeting Alice as well, and them all mixing back into the crowd of their friends. Kim had participated in some of the charity events, Alice being with Adam when she was doing that, and with her honorary grandmother Trudy when they were doing stuff together.

Adam had joked at one point they should receive some of the raised money, with how their big responder family had all demanded time with their baby. Kim loves it, so does Adam, that their daughter was being raised around so much love and around so much wonderful people, getting the childhood neither of them had gotten.

It was a few hours later now, and Kim sits on one of the picnic blankets, next to Sylvie, the two of them soaking up the sun. Sylvie watched her man, Matt, chuck a ball with Kevin, and Kim watched where Adam sat with Alice. The sun’s high in the sky, and while it was getting past midday now, it’s still quite hot and bright, so he sits in the shade with her.

There’s an aching in her, that wants to get up and join them, join her family, but she resists, knowing she wants to make the most of getting the chance to be in the sun, knowing Adam will just shoo her away, making sure she enjoys something she wouldn’t have hesitated to before she was a Mom.

Instead, she settles for watching him, and continuing to fall so deeply in love with him at the way he so softly and lovingly interacts with Alice.

“Needing a break from her?” Antonio asks, sitting down beside her. Kim glances quickly at Sylvie, knowing her friend had told her that everything is okay and not awkward—well, not that awkward—with the Dawsons’ but doing it on instinct anyway, the nonplussed expression on her friend’s face reassuring her.

“No, it’s just hot. She needs shade and Mommy, mommy needs sun,” Kim replies to her. Everyone at work teases her about how easily both her and Adam slip into referring to themselves as what they are to Alice when talking about the girl.

“It’s okay. She’s with Adam,” Kim continues. There’s a pause, a silence.

“They’re very close, aren’t they?” Antonio says. His words seem careful, calculated, but Kim doesn’t focus on that, instead grinning at him, her heart fluttering once more at just how much fatherhood suits Adam.

“Yeah, they are.” Kim can’t keep the happiness out of her voice, not that she’d want to. She’s looking back at Alice and Adam, watching as Adam plays with her. She’s too far away to hear them, but she’s watched scenes like this so many times before that she knows exactly what he’s cooing at her, and knows exactly what her laugh sounds like.

“What does, uh, the father feel about that?” Antonio asks. Kim looks at him, frowning a little, confused.

“Happy, I’d think.” She replies, shrugging off the weirdness of the question, and turning her attention back to her family. Natalie has walked over to them now, and Kim watches as her friend coos over Alice, and how Adam’s face lights up with pride, at his daughter being so popular.

“I thought mommy brain was meant to be gone by now,” Sylvie says after Antonio leaves. Kim looks at the paramedic, confused. Sylvie’s looking at her amused.

“You do realise that question he asked—it means he doesn’t know Adam’s her father?” Sylvie tells her. Kim’s mouth opens, about to argue against that, because of course he knows that, but then the pieces fall into place and she realises she never actually told him, never told him that they’re back together, forgetting it’s information he wouldn’t automatically know.

“Oh.” Kim says. “Oh.” Sylvie laughs at her.

“It’s amusing, if you think about it. Every time you announced your pregnancy to someone, everyone guessed she was Adam’s before you told them, but Antonio didn’t. And he’s been seeing Adam with her!” Sylvie points out, making Kim laugh with her.

“Finally!” Kim laughs, remembering how just how many people asked if her baby was Adam’s, or didn’t look at all surprised when she told them, when she was pregnant.

“Is it bad that I kind of don’t want to correct him?” Kim asks after. “Just to see how long it takes,”

Sylvie giggles. “I might be bias because he’s my ex, but no, not bad at all. In fact, you rest, I’m gonna go tell everyone he might talk to about it and tell them not to correct him either,”

Kim laughs, loud, as her friend jumps up, excitedly, running off to tell everyone. Sylvie is such a ball of fun, never giving Kim a dull moment when she’s around, and Kim’s once again reminded that they made the right choice to make her and Kevin Alice’s godparents.

Her laughter has attracted the attention of Adam as, after securing Alice’s hat back on her head, he gets up and heads towards her.

“Having fun without us?” Adam asks, sitting down next to her. He looks down at Alice. “Hm, what d’you think, Ally? That we should be upset she’s having fun without us?”

Alice, in response, loudly babbles back, making large smiles spread across both Kim’s and Adam’s faces.

“Hey, Ally,” Kim coos at her. “Having your own fun with Daddy?” she holds Alice’s hands with her own, her heart clenching at the way her fingers wraps around hers in response. Kim looks from her daughter, catching Adam’s eyes, seeing how he’s watching them with such love, such adoration and fondness and Kim knows, then, life really doesn’t get better than this.

The day was coming to an end. All the events had finished, the money raised calculated and announced and most people had left. All who remained was the Dawsons’ first responder family and their charity workers, all of them helping to tidy up.

Kim stood among her friends, all of them chatting between them, winding down and getting ready to leave. Adam stands next to her, Alice in his arms as she makes sure everything is in her pushchair. Alice rests against her father, sleepily, and Kim knows it won’t be long until she’s napping once more.

“It was really good seeing you, and of course getting to meet your beautiful daughter,” Antonio is saying to her, standing on her other side. Kim smiles at him. During the events of the day, when they were catching up, Antonio had apologised for how he left, that he didn’t even tell her. Kim had waved him off, but she appreciated his admittance to that it wasn’t very good of him, depending they were partners.

“It’s been good seeing you too. I’m glad you sorted your life out,” Kim replies, knowing she’s being truthful, and knowing that finally she’s gotten closure on that part of her life, that no longer will she have any left over upset feelings over how he left.

“I’ll definitely keep more in touch; I’ll want updates on this one,” he says, indicating at Alice and Kim’s smile widens, happy that he doesn’t want to go totally no contact with her, with the 21st, again. The way being in this profession, the bond you have with your unit, your partner, isn’t something she can ever truly describe to anyone outside this life; the bond is indescribable, you spend so much time with these people, you trust them to have your back—so when someone just leaves, when you have no idea how they are, it leaves a hole in your life.

Antonio’s eyes drift beyond her, smiling. “Hey, Trudy,”

Kim turns to look at Platt, who’s approached, Mouch by her side. Kim doesn’t know if she’ll ever get used to seeing Platt like this, the person she is outside of work, when she lets a little more of her softer side oout

If you had told her all those years ago, when she first met the desk Sergeant, that she’d consider Platt family, one of the main people she feels comfortable confiding in, that Platt will be one of her main support during her pregnancy, that she’ll be her daughter’s honorary grandmother, Kim would’ve called you certifiably insane. But that’s how her life has turned out, and Kim wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I told you, it’s still Platt to you. You may not be a detective in my district, but I’m still your sergeant,” Trudy gives him a look, but her usual scariness is undercut by the clear affection in her expression. She then turns to look at Adam, or more importantly, the sleepy Alice.

“Now, how’s little miss Ruzek?” Trudy says. Kim thinks that if Platt was anyone else, she’d be cooing the words, but this is Platt, so it’s said still in a manner-of-fact kind of way, affection only an undercurrent.

“I know Adam can be scared at the stupidest of things, but calling him a girl is even too harsh for you, Trudy—uh, Platt,” Antonio laughs, and Kim grins, thinking he’s making a joke, until she realises he still doesn’t know Alice is a Ruzek.

Trudy fixes him a steely look, a true Platt stare through and through. “I was referring to my granddaughter, not her father.”

Platt’s voice is equally steely, as she accepts Alice from Adam’s arms as he passes her over. Antonio looks at the interaction, his expression comical as he processes the information. As he processes that Platt isn’t making a joke, as he processes Platt calling Alice her granddaughter, as he processes exactly why Adam’s been playing and holding Alice all day long.

“She’s Ruzek’s? Adam’s a dad?” Antonio says, shock in his voice, turning to look at Kim. “You’re finally back with Adam again?” He then looks back at Trudy. “Did you just call her you grandmother?”

“Someone’s got to be, and if we trust the ones who raised these two idiots, Alice will be lucky if she doesn’t need therapy and communication lessons before she’s ten,” Trudy speaks first.

“Hey! We communicate well!” Adam protests, before adding, “Now,”

“Listen, Ruzek. I was critising your parents, not you two. For all your past idiocy, you’re good parents.” Trudy looks down at Alice, who’s now sleepily lying against her. “You’ve got to stop crying so loud, Miss Ruzek, you’re deafening your father and god knows he’s already a big enough idiot as it is,”

“When did this happen? When did you get back together?” Antonio asks, once more bringing attention back to him, and his state of confusion.

“About ten months ago, give or take,” Kim grins. They don’t have an official getting back together date, as when Kim was pregnant they were still focused on primarily being co-parents, deciding they need to learn how to communicate well before even thinking of getting together, not wanting to subject their child to having parents like theirs, but they still behaved so incredibly like they were married already.

Their initial plan was to wait until Alice was a year before assessing if they should be more that co-parents, but after the stress that was Alice’s birth, and seeing Adam hold their daughter, Kim knew she’ll never want anyone else, never want to be more with anyone else but him.

“If was up to me, it would’ve been sixteen months ago,” Adam comments, his tone joking, even though Kim knows he’s being perfectly serious. Antonio frowns, connecting the dates and the age of Alice, his eyebrows raising.

“You mean...oh,” Antonio says, realising. Adam smirks, and even Kim finds the reaction amusing. At the start, when they first was telling people, Kim described announcing was more like telling people that she hooked up, unprotected, with Adam rather than telling people she was having a baby—Voight may have hugged her, but she’ll never get over the mortifying knowledge that she essentially had to tell him that she and Adam are each other’s booty call—but now, with Alice being ten months and her and Adam actually being together, Kim sees more amusement in this stuff than anything.

Antonio looks between the two of them, before shrugging. “Well, then. I guess congratulations, man. I’m happy for you,” Antonio shakes Adam’s hand, them going in for a bro hug. They pull back, and Antonio looks at Adam, proudness on his face.

“No wonder you’re so relaxed, fatherhood suits you.” He compliments and Adam beams. Kim knows that Adam still harbours some issues towards Antonio, but Antonio is still family, and family is important to Adam.

“Yeah. It may have been messy and complicated, but I love being a father,” Adam snakes his arm around Kim at that, pulling her to him and giving her a soft kiss on top of her head. Kim rests her hand onto his, squeezing it, and smiling up at him. And in that moment, in his arms, their daughter and family with them, and a contentedness in her heart, Kim couldn’t disagree with him even if she wanted to.

It may have been a messy and complicated journey, but now she’s here, now this is her life, Kim knows all of that was worth it; and that life really doesn’t get better than this.

[haloangel391]

Ooooh... requests are open for the boys? That’s lovely.

Uhmm....

I’m getting way too fond of them way too quickly... especielly Ridge. And Ash. And Mudd. And Brigh.... all of them.

How would Ridge react to someone whose wrist is burned?

Also can I hug Mudd? Because I have the feeling he would give the loveliest hugs.

The Blind Date

Your wish is my command! Thank you anon for sending this in! I hope you enjoy!

Star Wars OCs: Mudd and Ridge.

Gender neutral character.

Warnings: Mentions of an injury.

Word Count: 698

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Ridge said from his seat beside Mudd at 79’s. Ridge kept messing with the lighter in his hand, flicking it on and snapping it shut to try and calm his nerves. Mudd had set him up to go on a blind date with one of his friends, and to say Ridge was nervous was an understatement. 

“Don’t worry,” Mudd said from beside him, never taking his eyes off the green male twi’lek sitting at the bar, “you’ll like them a lot, I’m sure of it.” 

Ridge scoffed at his brother’s words. 

“Yeah, but will they like me?” Ridge murmured. 

That got Mudd’s full attention. 

“What do you mean?” he inquired, the poor guy genuinely looked confused.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? Look at me Mudd, I look like a freak! I’m half covered in burns, my eyebrows won’t grow back, and my beard looks like a young shiny’s! Whoever your friend is, they’re not going to be impressed by what they see.” Ridge slouched further into the seat, feeling like the lowest person on the planet. 

Mudd simply looked at him and started to laugh.

“Don’t worry vod, they’re not much into appearances. Besides, they told me most people avoid being around them too, because of how they look.”

Ridge groaned and put his face in his hands, “Oh no, you set me up with a Hutt didn’t you?”

Mudd continued to laugh at his brother’s antics, until something caught his eye and he started waving frantically into the crowd. Ridge looked up from his hands and he swore his heart stopped. Coming towards them was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. 

“Hey, y/n!” Mudd shouted as they came towards them. Mudd instantly engulfed them into a tight hug and spun them around a bit, making them laugh, which Ridge then decided sounded better than any explosion he had ever heard in his life. 

“Hi Muddy!” y/n said, as Mudd put them down without falling, which for Mudd, was an absolute miracle.

Mudd gestured over to Ridge, who realized that he was staring very hard at y/n. But if they were concerned they didn’t show it. 

Y/N waved at Ridge shyly. “Hi.” Ridge kept staring and didn’t respond, Mudd rolled his eyes and smacked Ridge across the head. 

“Hi!” Ridge winced at how high pitched his voice sounded, he cleared his voice, “hi.”

From behind Y/N Mudd was face palming, and pointed to the seat. 

“Oh! Right, uh… would you like to sit down?” Yep, Ridge thought, this is going smoothly.

Y/N smiled, “Sure!” 

They sat down next to him and looked at him expectantly. 

Great now what? Ridge thought. The silence was getting more and more awkward by the minute until Mudd interrupted by clapping his hands together. 

“Well! You kids have fun, I’m going to go over there. Remember, great talking points are Tookas, Banthas, and Mudhorns.” And with that he walked into the crowd, presumably looking for the green male Twi’lek.

“So…” Ridge had nothing, how could he possibly impress someone as beautiful as Y/N. Luckily for him, Y/N was better at carrying on a conversation. 

“I heard you like to play with fire?”

Ridge nodded slowly, not sure where they were going with this.

“Is that why Mudd chose me as your blind date? Because I’m hot stuff.” Ridge didn’t know how to respond to this. He had never been on the receiving end of a pickup line before, but he was loving every second of it. The seriousness in the delivery made it even better, even if it did end in a fit of laughter not two seconds later, which Ridge gladly joined in. 

“It’s all right baby, I can handle hot stuff, I’ve been burned before.” Ridge stated, pointing to the various burns on his body. 

“Humm, so have I,” Y/N purred and then proceeded to roll up their sleeve and show a very intense burn going up half of their arm.

Ridge was dumbstruck, but a soft smile took over his face. Huh, maybe he wasn’t a freak afterall.

@anstarwar

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 28

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: death

A/N: we’re close to the end and i’m getting really emotional over this ending soon 😭 also did i write this watching the death scene in west side story? yes i did so i was sobbing through this.

Next Chapter

To say that Bucky had been ignoring her was the understatement of the century. 

With the excuse that she probably needed some fresh air rather than being in the meadows, Bucky had sent her a week ago to be at the Elysium with Hecate and the other maidens. Despite all her protesting and fighting against the idea of being in the Elysium, Buck had gotten the upper hand and without any argument on his part or even a single word, left her at the care of Hecate, who was probably acting just as weird as him. Before he left he had promised to visit but those visits were as short as seconds where it looked like he’d check on her, kiss her forehead and then leave again. He said that it would be better for her to be an environment similar to that where she used to live but in all honesty, she was certain the pollution in Brooklyn was worse than the meadows.

She spent her days questioning Hecate and the maidens as to why Bucky was suddenly busier than Santa on Christmas Eve but they would just say it was all on her head. It wasn’t. Even back when she was in Brooklyn, he’d come to visit more often. It also did not help that everyone in the Elysium treated her like she was made out of glass, not allowing her to do any work and basically leaving her sat on one of the stone benches with a book until night time where she would sleep in Hecate’s quarters. Psyche and Ariadne would come to visit regularly with stories of their husbands and other tales with the rest of the greek pantheon. 

Those visits had quickly became the only thing Y/N held onto and the only way she could get news from Bucky. She would constantly nag both mortal turned goddesses about him, wondering if he had finally grown tired of her but they would reassure her he was just busy. Somehow, everyone seemed to know more than her, almost as if they had locked her into a glass bubble. 

Today was like any other day, she was walking down the gardens, one of the books she had been lent in hand, trying to free her mind from the countless thoughts telling her Bucky was tired of her, he didn’t want to deal with her anymore, when she felt it again. The dizziness, the light headiness hitting her like a freight train. The book slide off her hands as she allowed her legs to hit the stone of one of the several marbled benches all over the Elysium’s gardens, sitting down to steady herself. She felt weak, cold again.

     - Y/N? - a few maidens noticed this change in posture, rushing to her side to check on her as if she were an injured person. Her hands were laying on her lap as Hecate checked the motion, taking her hands in hers and immediately sensing the coldness of them.  

      - Notify the king. - she heard her tell one of her maidens but the words looked further away, detached even. - Y/N? Can you hear me? 

      - Yeah. - she managed to take herself off that plane of thinking. - I’m alright, just dizziness. 

Hecate nodded, allowing Y/N to be alone for a while. She knew better not to try and force care onto her, specially because Y/N had become specially good at running and hiding. Hiding was what she felt right now, so, as per usual, she took shelter into the dying Grooves that seemed to now be flourishing with various amounts of white roses. She sat against the bark of one of the dying trees, trying to fight the tears threatening to come out of her eyes. She knew nothing, Bucky barely visited and she felt like the more time she felt in the Elysium the more miserable she felt. She missed him, missed seeing his messy hair or how he would bit onto his pens whenever he was looking at paperwork.

     - My lady? - she was too busy in her own miserable thought pattern she didn’t notice the presence of someone else in the Grooves. She cleaned the corners of her eyes with the fabric of her dress, turning to see the same lady from the golden threads. - I knew it was you.

      - I’m sorry, I just ... I just really need to by myself right now. - workers of the Elysium tended to have curiosity about the mortal, something Y/N didn’t really mind but right now she wanted to understand. 

      - Something seems to be on your mind, milady. Might I guess it must have something to do with the God of the Underworld? - she took a seat by her side, basket in hand. - Overthinking minds don’t look at thing clearly. 

      - I guess you’re right. - she chuckled.

      - Here. - she took a pomegranate from her basket, handing it to Y/N who suspiciously took it. How funny, this small fruit had started it all. - Mortals tend to look at it and interpret it in various wrong ways. I’ve never seen a single mortal or deity who ever understood what the pomegranate really means. 

      - What would that be?

      - Love. The type of love that makes you go against the forces of nature, crazy, unthinking love. After all, the god of the Underworld fed it to his bride when the danger of losing her came about and she ate it willingly. 

       - Some mortals think she was forced into eating it. 

       - A goddess can’t be forced into the Underworld, my lady. 

Meanwhile, Bucky had been mid meeting with Zeus when one of the handmaidens came rushing into the room like a maniac. His heart stopped as he saw her standing there, mind running wild as to why she would be here, to if Y/N was still alright, still alive. However, the news she carried didn’t ease out the heart clench. She was dying a little every single day and James was watching powerless. The past week had been filled with a platoon of meetings along with various gods to determine the cause as to why she was losing her life source. It came to no surprise that a mortal in the Underworld is unnatural and the way the forces of nature have to deal with that is to regain balance by turning a mortal into the state at which they belong into the Underworld.

The problem that stood once more was the same problem, taking her away from a contract she had unwillingly signed by eating the fruit of the dead. Most gods did not want the contract broken however James knew exactly who was easy to break down and that was Zeus. Zeus, god of the Gods, he could go against laws of the Underworld if he wanted and right now despite all attempts, he still refused to return Y/N to the mortal realm. 

In a twisted manner, he seemed to enjoy watch the god of the Underworld walk around miserable knowing someone was dying and he couldn’t do anything. Knowing the all powerful who could order the death of whomever he pleased couldn’t control the fate of the one he cared for. At least the one who still remembered him but after she passed, it wouldn’t be long til that too disappeared. 

James had even threatened ordering the death of whatever demigods related to Zeus still roamed the Earth, but he only laughed at those empty threats. What would that help in his case? It wouldn’t. He was powerless in this situation and Zeus was relishing on it. 

     - I wonder if she’ll make it to the Elysium. - Zeus thought out loud, making James’ blood boil. - You should’ve expected this. Besides, mortals die everyday, you’ve seen your fair share of relatives dying. She’s just one more. 

     - If I marry your daughter, will you break her contract to the Underworld? 

James didn’t want to be married to Aphrodite. Being married to Aphrodite meant Zeus would forever have control over him, over the Underworld and he would just be someone else’s puppet again. But yet again, he had been HYDRA’s puppet for decades and if being a puppet to Zeus for centuries to come meant Y/N would be safely back into her life, free to do what she wanted, then he would do it.

Zeus face twisted into that of someone who had won the lottery, imagining the countless opportunities. Not only would it put the control of the Underworld  onto his only and direct bloodline, it would rather amuse his daughter which was no small feat. 

     - I’ll make sure your daughter becomes Queen of the Underworld as long as Y/N is returned to her home, unharmed. - he sat down in his chair, looking at a petal from the sunflower she had given fall into the soil of the pot. - She returns home today.

     - I can ensure she returns safely to the mortal real but I won’t supply her with any protection once she’s there. 

     - She gets there safely and I follow the end of my deal. - he extended his hand up to him, looking at the sunflower.

Y/N had put the pomegranate in the pocket of her gown, returning to walk around the Elysium like a lost soul with a book in hand. She had probably read the same book several times in the space of a day, but she didn’t feel like bothering James asking for another book. She was a burden as she was. She closed the book, holding against her chest and huffing, getting ready to return to the rest of the maidens once she saw Bucky’s figure at the distance.

A smile stretched itself on her lips as she grabbed the fabric of the gown and used whatever was left of her strength to run over to him. Her feet paddled onto the grass as she finally reached him, wrapping her arms around him in what James thought was the loveliest, warmest hug he’d ever felt. She kissed his chest, holding his head as she stared onto his blue eyes. 

     - You’re late. - she teased, caressing his jaw with her ring finger. 

     - You can go home, lovely. - he smiled, kissing the crown of her head. - You can finally return home. 

     - What do you mean home? I’m home, I’m with you. - she wrapped her fingers around his. 

     - No, sunflower. You get to go home to Brooklyn. 

     - Buck, is that why you’ve been so distant lately? - he leaned his face against her touch, wondering how long it would be before he could do that again. Before he could feel her warmest touch. 

     - I’ll explain later, sunflower. Zeus is waiting for you and he’s not very found of waiting.

She followed him out of the Elysium, turning back to see what had been her normality for the past month and then back to him. She didn’t really know what to expect once she reached Brooklyn again, she didn’t know how she would act with Anne or if she even had a job back at the nursery. She didn’t know. Did returning to the home which she was once homesick for meant not seeing Bucky again?

Her mind was running wild with possibilities. She should be happy, she should be happy to return to her normality, she wasn’t a goddess, she didn’t belong here, she belonged up above with her people, with her daily runs and her jokes with co-workers. However, she wasn’t happy, she was worried, worried about Bucky, worried about herself.

Maybe, had she had the time to discuss it out she could’ve cleared up her doubts but it seemed like in a flash Bucky has handing her off to Zeus, kissing her and telling her it would be okay. It wouldn’t be okay, he didn’t look okay and she didn’t feel okay. She didn’t understand why she had even been thrown in the Elysium for a week, she knew nothing. 

     - I got to give you to you, Y/N. - Zeus took her off her own thoughts. - If I had known that all it took to get my way was for you to almost die, I would’ve made sure it happened sooner. 

     - Almost die? - she scrunched her face, stopping on her path which made the god of gods stop too. - What do you mean almost die? And what do you mean by getting your way?

     - Why do you think you’re feeling so weak, lately? Mortals don’t belong in the Underworld unless they’re dead and you can only fight the forces of nature for so long until they win. - it hit her like a freight train and she didn’t know if too feel mad or upset with James for hiding it. It finally made sense, the Elysium, the constant sick like treatment she got from people who originally despised her and James’ willingness to let her go so soon. - Besides, he made me an offer I just couldn’t refuse.

     - What offer?

     - Let’s say, the Underworld will be under my control as it should’ve always been. You can turn a mortal into a god but unless they’re controlled, they’ll never do their job correctly.

Y/N took a step back, the room seemed to start spinning. Under control. Under control. The once controlled Winter Soldier pictures came back to her mind, how he had told her about how the only good thing about being a god was being able to do whatever he pleased, not being controlled. Now here he was back again, under someone’s thumb and it was her fault. At those thoughts, much to Zeus’ confusion, she took another step back. Her eyes lingered over the pomegranate laying still on the pocket of her gown and then back to Zeus.

     - Can I ... can I go back? I forgot something. 

     - I’m sure he’ll probably get someone to bring it up to you. I don’t have all time. 

     - I’ll be back in no time, I promise. - she swore and he sighed, pointing his arm out back to the meadows and once again she was holding onto her dress, rushing down to the meadows. She could feel her heart beat faster and her legs begging her to give up, head pounding like a drum. The once path that seemed so short was now very long but still all she could think about was running, running back into his home which she eventually did.

The sound of her crashing through his door had alarmed James whose eyes widened at seeing her standing there, breathless against the door. She gripped onto the door, eyes gazing with James as she felt her body give up of her. Feeling she was about to faint, Bucky rushed over to her, holding her against his torso not sure if he was mad she had ran back or worried that he desperately needed to bring her back to her path. 

     - Y/N, you need to come back alright. - he pushed the hair away from her face but she only gave him a soft smile raising half a pomegranate with whatever was left of her strength.

     - I’m afraid I spoiled your plans. - the fruit rolled away. James world collapsed as he thought about ways to get Zeus to break the contract again. Gods, he would beg on his knees for it. - You’ve died before right? 

     - Stop talking about that. We nee ...

     - Does it hurt? - she interrupted him, clutching onto his torso. Her breathe got unruly and the once easy act of breathing became the hardest thing she ever could do. Noticing the will in her eyes, the decision she had taken, he soften his approach. 

     - No, sunflower. It’s like falling asleep. 

     - Falling asleep sounds nice. - she caressed his face, that familiar feeling of going into a deep slumber reaching fast. - I love you, Bucky.

     - I love you too, sunflower. 

She was wrapped into that tempting slumber that had been pulling at her, the last thing heard being James telling her to awake up but there was nothing left now. Just darkness.

Darkness and silence. 

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​​​​​​  @keithseabrook27​​​​​ @inlovewith3​​​​19 @nwbstan​ @romanoffs-heart

[georgemackayhey]

Like Real People Do

“Hii can you do an imagine, "Your first time with George" maybe as an insecure/uneasy reader"

"Can you pleeaaassse write more nsfw stuff? More Than A Night Out gave me my rights"

Alright yall, heed the 18+ warning! 

Seriously, I really don't want to block anyone (I love yall!) On that note... I wouldn't say this theme is my strong suit, nor have I been in a good headspace, but boy did I try my best ♡ 

w/c: 3k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You didn't date.

You called off meeting up with strangers in bars and listening to them tell half-assed life stories, embellishing in hopes they'd get to have their way with you in the same evening.

You were happy to mingle among friends on weekends and at parties, but going home alone felt safe. Keeping to yourself was the best bet, having learned your lesson by now. You recalled more unpleasant domestic experiences than ones that left you daydreaming of more. So you simply stayed single.

Some of your friends didn't regard your limits, tricking you into double dates and the like. Other friends understood but still gushed over their brothers and cousins in hopes you'd be intrigued by their qualities and demand to be introduced with wedding rings on standby.

And then there were the friends who never asked or bothered you about it at all. George was one of those friends.

He was your ride to your friend groups monthly movie theater meet up's. And he always let you take home his leftovers after dinners he wasted chatting with your mutual friends about books and culture.

In turn, you let George borrow your favorite albums. And you'd always saved him a seat in the back of bars you had to show up to for friend's birthday parties, while they threw themselves between strangers on the dance floor. Times like then were when you got to know George best.

And during the last month of summer, George invited everyone to take over a beach house big enough for your ever-expanding group and more. Apparently some of his distant family owned the property but were hardly ever in the area to enjoy it. So they gave George a spare key, and insisted he treated the place like his own.

And thankfully, then, between your friends racing to the shore in the witching hour, and when everyone split up into pairs for the evening, George kept you company. You made a habit of joining each other on the rickety front porch, sharing a drink, and usually sitting in silence.

But there were nights you talked about the constellations you could see above the roaring ocean. And where you'd like to live if you had an unlimited budget. Where you'd come from and what you wanted, and didn't.

You went home to the most dreary September of all time. You used to adore the solitude of your dull apartment. But you missed waking up to your friend's laughter, having someone, if not many more, to enjoy market runs and mealtimes with. You had never felt more lonely. And you couldn't stop thinking of George.

When he came round to give you a lift to the movie theater, your usual ride together was quiet. The silence between you was heavy- you wondered if he noticed. You sat together in a boring film. Or maybe it was the best of all time. You could only focus on how close George was to you, how you'd recognized the feeling of his company. You wondered how to ask him to come around more often, without sounding pathetically desperate.

Luckily birthday parties and Halloween bashes kept coming. And you kept finding quiet places to listen to George tell his stories. And he would always share his drink, and ask about your family, and how you were doing.

One night when he invited everyone around to his flat and only a couple of your friends managed to show up, they headed out soon after dinner. You were left alone in George's kitchen to help clean up and wonder what to do with the rest of the early blue evening.

And even though your heart beat in your throat, and everything you thought to say sounded stupid in your head, you determined it was time.

During a much too easy card game at Georges table, when a conversation about some of the horrifically silly things George had witnessed you manage in the past; you decided to stop testing the waters, and address them.

"I can't believe you put up with me." You grinned, peering past your hand of playing cards to the guy sat beside you.

"I just like you," George answered simply, his ocean eye flickering up to meet yours for a beat.

"Really?" You asked, pushing for him to say more, hoping he got the hint.

"I really do." George grinned shyly, turning his attention back to his hand of playing cards he kept accidentally giving you glimpses of. You watched George bite his lip and fiddle with the cards as if he were arranging them just so.

"What if... I like you too?" It wasn't just his tousled yellow hair, or the way his smile was warmer than a ray of sun. It was his lame jokes. His soft answers. Him.

"You don't date." George rose a brow, keeping his eyes turned away. He wasn't bittered or mocking. He was accepting. George laid down his cards, to a game you weren't focused on at all anymore.

"I like you, George." You admit in a hush. His stunning eyes met yours. He seemed to consider your words, and much more. He started to speak a couple of times as he searched your features.

"So maybe... we can start slow..." You offered. You had never planned on opening up to anyone. But George had stuck around. He was always there when you needed him even when you hadn't known what you needed. He didn't make fun of your unreasonable anxieties and he always laughed at your jokes. Even the ones you knew weren't funny. You hadn't expected to ever let anyone close enough, you hadn't trusted anyone could feel like home. But before you could even decide, it was as if your heart grew a mind of its own and lept right out of your chest into George's orbit. So since he already seemed to have you, it seemed like common courtesy to at least let the guy know.

With a shy smile, George bore his brilliant blue eyes into yours, searching them for assurance. As you looked to each other you felt his knuckles brush yours, the back of his hand nervously creeping closer. George took one of his fingers and looped it around one of yours while he agreed that it would be silly for two people who felt the same way about each other to do nothing about it. So you did.

George started coming around when there wasn't any reason to, sometimes bringing take away, or asking you on walks around the park. Sometimes you'd sit in silence next to your favorite old tree and enjoy that last purple swirls in the dusk sky. And sometimes you'd watch films, one after another, pausing only to argue over the ending or make silly predictions.  And times like then, you curled into George's side like a sleepy cat. He'd carded his warm hand through your hair as you drifted off, content.

You got snowed into his flat when you showed up a few hours before the first-holiday party of the season; to help bake treats for everyone. As ice froze everyone's doors shut, the party was swiftly canceled but your plans for the evening weren't ruined at all.

George set up his den with extra blankets, finding the holiday channel on the telly, standing to refill your cup of tea during commercials so you didn't have to move. He kissed you that night, soft and kind, and slow. You both fell asleep on the floor among the mess of all the blankets he owned, while snow piled up and over the window sills.

You spent New Year's Eve much like the past couple before, watching your wild group of pals take shots and dance to bad music. George listened to you talk as you waited for the new year to set in, and he kept one of his fingers looped around yours almost all night long.

When the snow started to melt and your group of friends started squeezing into their cut off jeans from the year before, George invited everyone back to the beach house. He set a date and sent out invitations in the mail like it was the damn 1800's. Most every rsvp got sent back with the box labeled "going "grossly marked up.

George offered to give you a lift there, a day early so he could stock up on emergency snacks and soaps and even more DVDs in case the rains came and ruined your fun on the shore. You agreed happily and walked through the isles of a department store together, picking out essentials based on how well you knew your group of friends who might need them.

And while you laughed and helped and listened, you grew increasingly more fucking terrified. Because you'd never spent so long enjoying one person's company. You were enamored with George yes, but what's more, was- you trusted him. You never thought it was possible. But you really did. And the thing that you were most scared of, was having to accept the possibility that he didn't feel the same way.

Things like this had gone wrong before. Granted, things had never gone remotely close to this right before, either. But you still prepared yourself to hurt. It was always a possibility you were too afraid of risking. But George was different. You somehow knew even if he hurt you, it would be the loveliest heartbreak you'd ever feel.

You got to the beach house, completely abandoned since the last time you left it. You found your someone's favorite lost t-shirt in one of the bathrooms, and a lot of dust on the shelves. After clearing away some of the cobwebs and unloading all your groceries to their respective places, night began to fall.

The sky was still blue enough to admire the roaring ocean from the front porch. George brought out a couple of drinks, and you sat there together like you had the summer before. Only now, it was a little too chilly. So you said goodnight to the scenery, making a note of spending extra time to soak up its beauty the next morning.

And on your way inside you joked about how someone was bound to forget to pack something they needed, or bring one of the things George asked them to. You were wrapped up in laughter as you turned out the lights and drifted to settle in.

When you headed to the bedroom where all your bags had been discarded, you scurried off to the ensuite shower. This was the room George stayed in last year, a space you'd never stepped foot near until tonight.

And when you stepped back out into the bedroom, you realized you didn't want to leave.

George was busy turning down his bed covers to the dim night light in a far off corner. A dark shine beamed in from the moon in the window next to the quilted bed, and George never looked more beautiful- perfectly tousled hair. Kind, sleepy eyes. Yeah, you'd let him break your heart.

"What?" He laughed in a warm low rumble, catching you staring. You bit back a chuckle and crossed the room to meet him.

"I just love you. That's all." You informed, circling one of your fingers around his, gazing up to the guy.

You'd said so in passing, during game nights he helped you win and in the middle of lunches he'd managed to talk you into ordering. But nothing prompted you now, and the statement held an all-new kind of weight.

"I love you, too," George whispered in turn, raising his other hand to your cheek.

"Can I stay in here? With you?" You asked, keeping your gaze set and your voice low even though no one else was around to hear.

"I'd like that." George assured with a tiny grin.

You clamored into the big bed, pointing out the window to the moon over the ocean. George eased in behind you, gazing all the same. You tangled your hands together staring out the window for a while, giggling over nothing every now and again. He was so impossibly close, so warm next to you.

"George." You turned your head slowly, catching his attention. He looked at you, silently wondering what you wanted. But somehow you didn't need to say.

Somehow he knew to lean in for a kiss, soft and sweet. When he pulled away, you could tell he didn't want to. When George looked at you, you could tell he longed for more, but still kept his distance, kept your meek nature in mind. He was too kind, too considerate. There weren't words to convey how you felt. You knew what came next. You wanted George.

You reached for his hand, and brought it to rest in the dip of your waist. He kept his eyes steady on yours while his thumb brushed over the skin exposed where your shirt had ridden up.

"Kiss me again?" You asked, barely a whisper. George leaned in, almost before you could finish asking, to press his mouth against yours. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt to pull him closer while George let his hand travel to the small of your back, holding you perfectly against him. He kissed you slow and deep like he was trying to put you in a trance.

Whether he meant to or not, you wondered if it worked, as you melted into the mattress all while lazily pulling him almost all the way on top of you. This was as far as you'd ever taken things with George, yanking at each other's clothes while you kissed until you couldn't breathe.

So when you gently pushed George away, he started to retract back to his side of the bed without putting up a fight. But you sat up too. And George watched on in wonder when you sheepishly slid into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

Without a word you pulled George's shirt up, silently suggesting he take it all the way off.

When he did, you didn't relish the sight long before you dove in for another kiss. His skin was burning, and you could feel his heart hammer when your hand traveled across his chest. You moved your kisses to his neck, reveling in the feeling of being so close. George kept one arm gently wrapped around you as your teeth grazed a spot under his ear that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Y/n. Are you- Do you..." George began, keeping his hold around you all the same. You pulled away, gazing to George through your lashes while your heart teetered on the edge.

"Do you not want to?" You worried. You were so finally sure. But George might not have been. So you prepared to be let down gently, knowing George would at least be kind enough to break your fall.

"Yes." George let out a breathy laugh, reaching to hold your head in both of his hands. "Of course I want to do this. But I know how you feel and if you don't-"

"I trust you, George." You nodded, searching his eyes while a smile bloomed across your face. You'd been so nervous for a moment like this to come true. But everything was different with George. He made you laugh when you never expected to, he made you think about things in ways you'd never even considered. He was so the one for you.

You wrapped your fingers around George's wrist, bringing his plus to your lips. You watched George's eyes flutter as you planted a small kiss there, before moving his hand to your hip.

"Just go slow." You nodded, watching George's eyes open to meet yours. You leaned your forehead against his while he nodded, making you laugh.

He decorated your cheeks with gentle pecks and moved his hands under the hem of your shirt as you leaned in to capture his lips with yours again. And because you spent a while that way, you weren't nervous to act upon taking things even further.

Kisses turned seering as George wrangled your shirt off. His lips traveled down your throat as you settled deeper into his lap, shocked by how easy this was. Your kisses grew longer and sloppier while your layers started to collect on the floor.

You impressed yourself by how effortlessly you reach to pull away George's trousers. He managed to kick them aside while you kept your lips on his, laughing between breaks for air.

But when he pulled you back into his lap, when his fingers danced around your waistband, you were suddenly swept up in the realization that this was happening. Like, really happening.

"Uh, wait a second." You halted in a shaky breath. You didn't want to stop, not completely. You just needed to assess things for a moment, to catch up with this new reality in which this wasn't upsetting or dull or any of the things being with anyone else ever was.

George stalled in an instant, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. "Do you want to stop?" He asked gently, hands firmly pressed against your back, eyes glowing right into yours.

"No way." You breathed with a grin. You knew it would be better than before, with George. Probably the best. It already was, you realized with a smile, encouraging George one more time. Your hips rolled against his, causing his heavenly sigh in your ear.

He wriggled you out of the last of your clothes and made you feel like a wonder of the world, tracing the shapes you were made up of with his pretty fingers. By the time you were laid against the pillows admiring the halo of light ringing around George's waves of hair, he asked again if you were sure about this.

"So long as you are." You swallowed.

"Of course I'm sure. God, I'm so sure." George pressed a kiss to your face between sentences, making you giggle and swoon all at once. "I've never been so sure of anyone but you. I'd like to keep it that way." George rambled, peppering a few more loving, gentle kisses to your cheek. "But if you want to stop for any reason, we'll stop. Just say so."

"Thank you, George." You grinned after a beat, knowing he really meant it. Recognizing how deeply he really cared for you, watching him search your face for validation. Watching George watch you, contentedly, like he had dozens of times before now. He gave you a slowly sleepy blink, ocean blue eyes shining brighter when they opened again.

George leaned closer, hovering over you with his eyes locked on yours. He molded a kiss to your lips before anything. Then to your cheek. Then his eyes fluttered to meet yours once more.

"Slow." You rose a brow, whispering a reminder, but it was really more of a green light for him to finally take the next step.

George repeated you, in a barely audible hush, soaking up the look in your eye. A lithe grin painted his lips while you held your breath. You accounted for the feeling of his fingers loosely tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing across your temple every now and again. You'd nearly forgotten everything else while swimming in those warm icy eyes of his. He didn't break you from your reverie when he gave a small nod. The gesture only settled you further, as you responded by lacing your fingers around the back of his neck.

George kept his hand nearly cradling your head as he pushed closer. His thumb brushing across the pulse of your temple was keeping you grounded while your heart threatened to soar into the clouds. While your breathing grew deeper, while he moved as close as he could until he couldn't anymore.

"You okay?" George asked, his voice beautifully strained.

"Uh-huh." You gazed at him through hooded eyes as you adjusted everything, including the realization that this was happening. He wasn't even moving yet. And he waited until you had to ask him to, with his head buried in your neck. After a couple of breaths, you looked to George, giving him a nod. He pressed his forehead against yours and moved his hips.

A tame, steady pace set in as you stopped George from asking if you were alright, again, assuring him you were really, very good. Your raspy encouragement must have given George the sound authority to go about awing you further.

He kept one hand against your temple while his other trailed down your side, fingers deliberately pressed into your skin as he brought your leg around his hip. George's strong-arm hooked under your back to keep you secured against him. He picked up the pace as your hands tangled in his hair, around his shoulder, holding on to the moment. To George.

You wondered why you waited so long to feel this damned good, while George spoke low in your ear. He listed off all the things he liked best about you, and why. He planted clumsy kisses to your lips. He made you see stars brighter than all the far off constellations you were used to pointing out from the shoreline. You seemed to float among them, above everything. Time slowed down while your heart sped up, somehow, and while everything around you faded into an impossibly dull background, you still had George.

His weight was warm and secure. His breath was hot on your neck. His voice was saccharine in your ear.  When he eventually eased next to your side in a heap, the cool of the night was still shielded by him.

You snuggled to his chest, like an old sleepy cat while he kept repeating how he loved you. You said so too, as many times as you could manage before drifting to sleep all tangled together.

The next morning came slow. You made coffee and watched the sunrise above the waves from the porch. When your friends started showing up in pairs and trios and more, they all seemed sort of relieved to find you and George attached at the hip. They greeted you as if you'd always been a packaged deal, and they didn't bat an eye when you stuck together to roam the vast empty beach. There was no fighting over choosing partners when someone broke out a new board game that night. When your friends were all gathered around the dinner table, and all the extra snacks and gifts and surprises for the summer were stored away, you still had George.

Maybe things wouldn't always be so easy. There would likely be fights and upsets and questions that didn't always have answers. But George was worth it. You had him now, you loved him and he couldn't stop reminding how dearly he loved you. Nothing had ever hurt so good before. You decided to keep it that way.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[drivingsideways]

Here, have like 5.7k of not-fic, because I am *still * not writing in this fandom, god damn it. 

In which Gon is an asshole, and Tae-eul knows it. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop Jo Yeong from wanting him.

It’s at the naval academy that Gon realizes that he is, in fact, in deep shit.

Gon is there because he’s expected to be there, Yeong-ah is there because Gon is there, and also because he’s the most stubborn 16 year old in existence, and even commanding him to stay at school and join only two years later, along with his peers hadn’t worked, probably for the first time since Gon had given him a play sword and brought an infinitely more precious thing into existence.

 Yeong had just turned up in the naval academy class in his trainee uniform, all coltish limbs and squared shoulders and defiant chin and serious eyes, and his collar more starched than even His Majesty’s and Gon had thought god damn it, but he’d also been conscious of a sense of relief. It was lonely without his shadow of almost twelve years now, and honestly, if Yeong-ah thought he could do it, who was Gon to disagree, because he knows what Yeong-ah is capable of when he’s determined.

 (Yeong-ah has the scars to prove it, and Gon has the worst night after his father’s murder to remember, the night when he sat beside Yeong’s bed as he slept off the anaesthetic, post surgical removal of a bullet from his shoulder. Yeong had taken off his service vest during combat training, apparently deciding that he needed to learn to fight through an actual bullet wound.

The idiot.

Gon had wept all night beside his bed, and raged at him in the morning, and expressly forbidden him from pulling a stunt like that ever again, and Yeong had looked at him, confusion in his dark eyes, and said blearily, his usually lovely clear voice still thickened by sleep and painkillers, but how can I be the unbreakable sword if I don’t practice?

Yeong, Gon had replied, helpless in the face of such devotion. Yeong.

 So yeah, he should have probably known that Yeong would turn up at the Academy.)

 The four years at the academy are great- actually the most freedom Gon has ever experienced, which is hugely ironic, given, it’s like, the navy; and he wants Yeong to have that too before they both return to the palace. He wants Yeong to have as normal an adolescence as he can, hang out with the guys, make friends, and who knows, maybe even date? Like, Yeong should have the delicious experience of a first kiss, her lips soft and tasting of champagne and plum-flavoured lip balm, the slim curve of her waist that fits into the slightly damp palm of your hand, and the fluttering of her eyelashes against your cheek, and the wild roaring of your heartbeat in your ears- and her almond-shaped dark eyes on yours- 

 Yeah, so, Gon wants  Yeong to have all of that and more, and he’ll do his best to arrange the world so that it will happen; what kind of elder brother would he be if he didn’t?

 So when they’re at one of the few parties that trainees- including His Majesty- are allowed into at the Naval Club, he tries to manoeuvre things suitably so that he can casually introduce Yeong to some pretty young things, at least two of whom, he’s pleased to note, have the good taste to realize how handsome and adorable Yeong is. Well, he’d best leave them alone now, trusting that nothing can stop a determined young woman who’s spotted something she wants- and in the meanwhile, he has caught sight of Ms.Kim Seo-Hyun, she of the laughing dark eyes, and the wicked mouth, and goes off to renew a very pleasant acquaintance in the shade of some conveniently placed trees. 

 It’s a while before he returns to the main ballroom, and his eyes scan for Yeong, and don’t find him. He’d half been expecting for Yeong to break in on Seo-Hyun and himself, because Yeong rarely lets Gon out of his line of sight, except for very good reasons. And hey, look at that, perhaps for once, Yeong was not thinking about protecting Gon, and was instead having a good time by himself.

 Good, he thinks, the light buzz of alcohol in his veins adding to the generally pleasant feeling, and he smiles to himself when he thinks about the fun he’ll have later, teasing Yeong about it. He stands for a minute watching the milling, chattering crowd, god, it’s warm in here. 

He finds what looks like a deserted corridor, that lines the back of the club building, and drifts down it, hand still clutching the slowly warming glass of champagne (his fourth) that he’d taken off a passing tray. 

He recognizes Yeong from his silhouette- of course he does- before he actually sees him. He’s leaning against a pillar- if such a ramrod straight posture could be termed leaning - and he seems to be in conversation with someone opposite him, who’s entirely in shadow, thanks to a pillar and a large leafy potted plant. The clouds clear at that moment, and the moon comes out, and Yeong is smiling, actually smiling, with his teeth and everything, the smile softening the sharp cut of those cheekbones, and the sight stops Gon in his tracks, because Yeong rarely smiles, Gon should know, Gon has worked harder at winning those smiles than at any mathematical problem, but here’s Yeong, smiling at someone who isn’t Gon. 

 He should probably leave- after all, he doesn’t want to embarass Yeong or accidentally crash their rendezvous- but for some reason he can’t move. He can’t move, and he can only watch as the person opposite, comes out the shadow- and that-that is not a girl- no, that’s another cadet, and he’s crossing the two feet between him and Yeong, and now he’s leaning in, a little, one hand coming to rest over Yeong’s shoulder on the pillar behind, while the other comes up to tilt Yeong’s face toward his, and Yeong’s eyes are dark, unfathomable pools, but he’s leaning in, his eyelashes fluttering shut, and then-

No, thinks Gon, No. 

He’s mine. 

And then, appalled, fuck.

 He manages to stumble away without being seen- the other two are too busy-  and listen, it’s not for nothing he’s been trained since childhood to wear an armour of charm and stoic politeness no matter the provocation, and he calls on every lesson he’s ever learnt from endlessly boring state dinners, and even more uninteresting briefings, and manages to get through the rest of the evening without doing what he wants to- destroy every single glittering, happy smile in sight- and grab Yeong’s hand and run. 

 Because Yeong would go along, if he did. Yeong would follow, like he always did, and if Gon- if Gon ever asked him- then Yeong would, of course he would, because Yeong has never ever not given Gon anything he’s asked for, not since he was four and Gon had bought him with a few thoughtless words, said mostly in jest, just so the little boy would stop crying like that, as though it was his world that had ended, and not Gon’s. 

 He lasts the evening, and the next two years, and he never asks Yeong about that night, or any of the nights after, and Yeong never volunteers the information. There’s a part of Gon that’s resentful, that wants to scream, do you trust me so little, do you think I’d love you less because you’re gay, and there’s a part of him that’s glad Yeong never tells him, because if it were- out there- between them, then Gon might become weak one day, and ask, after all, and no, it’s best that it remains unsaid, and it’s fine, it’s FINE. 

 He has Yeong in all the most important ways; he has his time, and his devotion, and his quiet, dry wit that he rarely displays to anyone except Gon, and he has Yeong’s touch, even- Yeong reaching out to pull him up from the floor after beating his ass at taekwondo, Yeong brushing lint off his shoulder after he’s dressed for one of those stupid dinners, the brush of his knuckles against Gon’s suddenly dry throat as Yeong adjusts his tie, the press of Yeong’s shoulders against his as they sit side-by-side watching The Seven Samurai for the forty-seventh time. He has Yeong’s face peering into his as he shakes him awake for the 4 am drill, and he has Yeong’s disapproving frown when he discovers Gon has skipped both lunch and dinner because he got lost in reading this brilliant new paper by Maryam Mirzakhani, Yeong, you don’t understand, the woman is a fucking genius, and god, why is it spinach today, why, Yeong, you’re so cruel to me. 

 They graduate, and then it’s back at the palace, and they slip back into its routines and confinements, and if he applied to the Pope for canonization, surely, he’d get it, because Gon deserves it.

 It’s been ten years since that awful, life-altering realization, and every hour since then has been a lesson in restraint and abject self-denial in the face of the loveliest and most every day of temptations:  to kiss the curve of Yeong’s quiet smiles and run his finger along the sharp blade of his cheekbones; to trace the shell of his ear, and turn fully into the warm heat of his body, that’s always, always within reach, and if Gon ever asked-

Gon doesn’t ask. 

 Then he’s transported to a parallel universe and meets Tae-Eul  and Eun-sup and she introduces him to things like half-and-half and also asks him questions like “what kind of king are you?”, things he has no real answer for, and it’s nice- it’s nice to be able to be honest with someone, to have them treat you like you’re a weirdo, but not like, a royal weirdo, and though he jokes about it with her, one day she says, suddenly, “You can be anyone you want to be here and you’re telling me that you choose to be some stick-in-the mud blueblood?”

She snorts, inelegant, and comfortable within her skin, and that’s when he realizes-

And alright, he has to sell a couple of more diamonds and some rare gold artefacts to arrange it, but then it’s done- he gets to resurrect Lee Ji-hun. Lee Ji-hun is just some guy here, a musician, not a mathematician, living a quiet, ordinary life in a moderately posh neighbourhood.  

 (Tae-eul contests his definition of “moderately posh” when she walks into his large fully furnished studio apartment, all floor-to-ceiling windows, and polished dark-wood floor, but listen, he wouldn’t be able to pull it off if he had to live in actual poverty, sorry, but he has limits. Tae-Eul gives him a distinctly unimpressed look, but probably agrees about his limits, he thinks.

 “You should be a lawyer or a tax consultant instead” she says, touching the beautiful grand piano he’s installed. “They’re rich”.

“Ugh, boring. Musicians aren’t rich here?”

Tae-Eul sighs, “Not ones as mediocre as you” she mutters

“I have never been mediocre at anything in my life”.

“Who told you that, Your Majesty?”)

  The reason he gives her for this entire project is that he wants to draw Lee Lim out into the open, but it’s not just him, but that part he never tells Tae-Eul. He’s told her all about Yeong of course, about his unbreakable sword , and she gives him one of her penetrating looks and says, abrupt, people are not things , and he feels himself flush to the roots of his hair

 I just meant, it’s not like that,  he stumbles, and stops. 

There’s an awkward pause. 

Then she says, quietly, I forget how different your world is. 

 And that’s it, isn’t it?  Here he can be anyone, and if he can be anyone, then he doesn’t have to be Yeong’s lord, and he can be Yeong’s equal, perhaps, and - and- but he doesn’t let himself hope for more. Equal. Friend, perhaps. If that’s all it can be, then that’s enough. 

 So he tells Yeong, who’s been quietly going crazy, he knows, what with Gon’s strange behaviour and disappearances,  about the parallel world, and Yeong says, sharp, and agonized- don’t go where I can’t follow - 

I’m not, he reassures Yeong, and then takes him through the portal. 

He introduces Yeong to Tae-Eul, and then to Eun-sup, and enjoys the mutual horror of the latter meeting very much. Seeing them together is just one more reminder of how much he loves his Yeong, though Eun-sup is adorable- everything about him loose and loud and in the open- in contrast to Yeong’s grave eyes and buttoned cuffs and ramrod spine, and that twist to the corner of his mouth that indicates that he’s suffering at the realization that his doppelganger is a complete goof, and god, Gon should probably stop staring so openly at Yeong, before someone realizes that he’s half a breath away from pressing Yeong against a wall and ruining him.

 He thinks he’s rather given himself away though, the way Tae-Eul is looking at him, something startled and then thoughtful in her eyes.

Yeong is incredibly suspicious of everything about Tae-Eul, though Gon tries to talk him out of it.

Why are you so determined to defend her, Yeong asks, sounding bewildered. 

She and I are bound by fate, Gon replies, quietly. I know it in my heart, just like I know she’s a good person.

He doesn’t quite understand the look in Yeong’s eyes then- a flash of something- so quickly gone that he might have missed it, if he hadn’t been used to watching Yeong all the time. 

But Yeong nods, once, and then says, in his brusque way, “What do you need me to do?”

Enter Lee Ji-hun. 

He gives Yeong the same story that he gives Tae-Eul, except that he doesn’t tell Yeong that there is no Lee Ji-Hun, because his bastard uncle had made sure of that. 

Find a way to befriend him, he tells Yeong instead, and stay by his side here, and if Lee Lim turns up, you have my permission to behead him.

Yeong gives him a dry look.

I don’t think it works like that here, Your Majesty, he says.

He’s my subject, says Gon, and he can’t quite keep a lid on the vicious hate that bubbles up from where he’s buried it all these years, and I am the law.

Yeong is silent for a minute, and then asks, how long?

Tae-Eul and he have worked out some kind of plausible back story for Lee Ji-hun

Anyways, he regurgitates it to Yeong, adding the necessary flourishes when needed, (“He’s supposed to be one of the best pianists in the country!”) who looks increasingly sceptical.

“Well?” Gon demands.

“I don’t see how I’m going to befriend him” Yeong gripes. “It’s not like I can play an instrument”.

Not to worry, Gon and Tae-eul have a plan for that too, though essentially their plan is to move Yeong, ex-military captain, now into private security, into the apartment opposite.

“Ex-military can afford this kind of apartment here?” Yeong asks, incredulous, while Gon narrows his eyes at him.

“Private security pays good money” Tae-Ul offers and gives Gon a look.

Hmm, says Yeong, and then proceeds to strip-search every bit of the apartment while Tae-eul gawks at him.

Gon thinks it’s adorable.

 So begins the most exhausting cat and mouse game that Gon has ever played with himself.

He’s just wondering how to arrange for a ��chance meeting’ with Yeong- in the lift perhaps? (because he’s sure that despite everything, Yeong would probably take days to make a first move, and Gon simply doesn’t have that time in his schedule. As it is, working it out so that he gets at least four hours of sleep out of 24 has been an absolute nightmare.)

Anyways, he’s still musing on it, when there’s a knock on the door, and he opens it to the sight of Yeong in a half-sleeved t-shirt and loose trackpants and a really sweet smile, asking whether he can borrow some sugar.

Gon nearly expires on the spot, because for years now, even when training, Yeong wears full sleeved shirts with high necks, and this- this- excuse for clothing even has a v-neck, dipping down, and Gon unsubtly tracks the miles of skin between the hollow of his throat and where the dip of it ends, feeling a little like he’s been run over by a train, and he would really like to know why Yeong felt the need to dress like a total harlot to ask a stranger for a half-cup of sugar.

His silence has Yeong back away, with an awkward look.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you sir” he says, and it’s so stiff and formal, and it snaps Gon out of his idiocy.

“Oh no..not at all…sorry” he says, “I was just…” he snatches around wildly for a plausible reason, “I was just distracted by this piece of music I was composing!”

(what?)

“Oh” says Yeong, “You’re a musician”.

“Please do come in” Gon says, “And allow me to make up for my rudeness by welcoming you with a cup of tea? Coffee?”

“Tea” says Yeong, another surprise, because his Yeong doesn’t touch the stuff, but will drink gallons of coffee.

“Nice” says Yeong, as he looks around the apartment with its modernist furniture, so unlike what they back at home, and the way he says it, so deliberately polite and fake, makes Gon hide a smile.

He walks to the piano while Gon gets the kettle going.

“So you’re a pianist”?

“Yes” Gon replies, easily, “What do you do?”

“I was in the army” Yeong says.

“Which division?” asks Gon, just to be a little shit.

“88th” Yeong replies, lying through his teeth.

Gon is proud of him.

“I’m with a private security firm now” he adds, conscientiously.

“Celebrities?”

Yeong shrugs, another strange gesture, “Mostly corporates” he answers. “It pays well”.

“I don’t suppose I could pay you to protect me” Gon says, smiling.

“Do you need protection”? Yeong’s eyes on him are sharp as he walks slowly toward the kitchen area.

Gon runs his hand through his hair, messing it up, and Yeong’s eyes grow sharper.

Gon had tried to comb it differently, to maintain some illusion of difference, but he’d probably ruined it, he realizes.

“Not really” he says, giving Yeong a sheepish smile. “It’s just that I’m new to Seoul so I could do with some help getting around the place”

“I’m new too” Yeong says, because that’s the story they had agreed to.

“Hey, perhaps we could figure it out together” says Gon, cheerfully. He sticks out a hand. ”Deal?”

Yeong gives him that smile again, and Gon wants to- wants to-

“Deal” says Yeong, taking his hand in a firm, familiar clasp.

 Gon explains away the reasons he stays at home, mostly- “Decided to give myself a break for a month, to settle in”- over tea and then over dinner (it’s not a bother, I was going to make some anyway), they chat about nothing and everything; the good thing is that Gon knows he needn’t worry too much about being “found out” by some inappropriate reference- at this point Yeong doesn’t know much about this world either. Honestly, it’s a piece of cake.

“The Seven Samurai” he says, unthinking, to a question about his favourite movie, and Yeong stares at him for a moment, before looking down into his bowl, and murmuring, “Mine too”.

“We should watch it together sometime then!” says Gon brightly, “I’m due for my annual rewatch anyway”

Yeong gives him a strained smile.

It goes pretty well for two days; Gon pretending he doesn’t see Yeong tag him all around his deliberate tour of the most unsuspicious places, and then in the evening, when Yeong’s gone back to his apartment, after being well dined-and-wined, Gon sneaks out and heads back through the portal, and spends half the night signing papers and reading reports, before he comes in before dawn back to his apartment.

On the third day, Tae-eul asks him to meet her after dinner.

“I’m going to be late” he tells her, already looking at his watch as he approaches her.  “There’s a mountain of paperwork waiting for me back home”.

“What the fuck, Lee Gon???!!!” she yells, and Maximus whinnies in distress.

He steps back, surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Why haven’t you told Yeong that there’s no real Lee Ji-hun” she hisses at him. “What.The.Fuck.”

He pales.

“How did you find out?”

“Because I’m not an idiot and I’m a detective” she snaps.

“Have you been wiretapping us?” he gasps, outraged.

She snorts, “God you really have no idea about privacy and rule of law, do you? No, you idiot, Yeong called me to dig up more info on Lee Ji-Hun, and as you can imagine, I was curious why he would need to do that!!!!”

“Ah”.

“Yes”.

She ties her hair up, pulling the knot tight.

“Go on” she snaps, “Explain yourself! Do you suspect him of being a traitor?”

“What?! NO! Of course not!”

“Then why this whole game?”

“It’s not a game” he says quietly. “I-you said it yourself- I can be someone else here. I can be someone that- that- Yeong might- love-“

Tae-eul gapes at him

“Even a blind man can see that he already loves you!” she exclaims. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

“He loves the king he was given to”  Gon says, miserable. “I want him to love the man”.

She closes her open mouth with a snap.

“You know” she says, her voice taking on a conversational tone. “In a shittier story, you and I would be the ones falling madly in love, you with your I’ve waited twenty- five years to meet you and tallness and your face and your horse and everything. As if me, a girl from a middle-class family who works her ass off trying to protect law and order, would fall for someone like you, who literally thinks he’s the law and whose idea of “living in poverty” would keep one hundred families fed for a year. And that’s even before this bit of assholery.”

He sits down on the bench with a thump, and says, weakly, “At least we’re not in that story?”

“No” she concedes, with a small sigh. “No, we’re just in a slightly upgraded, but still shitty version where the lone female character is there to knock some sense into the heads of two emotionally dense male characters and keep them from doing something irredeemably stupid, like, oh, I don’t know, ruin the most important relationship in their life because they don’t know how to be functioning adults in a relationship?!”

“Tae-eul” he says, “I can’t-“

“Why not?” she says, “Why can’t you just tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Because I’m his king!” He yells, jumping to his feet.

“I’m his king, and he’s devoted his entire life to me, and he’s never said no to anything I’ve ever asked, and I can’t ask him this- I won’t—"

She stares up at him.

“And when he finds out?” she says, softly. “What then? Or do you think he never will?”

He shakes his head, and sits back down, covering his face with his hands.

“What then?” she asks, relentless. “What happens once we’ve figured this out and caught Lee Lim- how are you going to divide yourself then?”

“I don’t know” he says, muffled. “I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet. I just- I just want some time-some memories-“

“Lee Gon” she says, and she’s back to being kind, even if her words are painfully blunt. “Don’t be a fool. Tell him now before it gets more complicated”.

“No” he says, “No.Tae-eul. I know you can’t understand me or agree with me. But no. I won’t, I can’t give this up—”

Because it’s only been two days, and he’s already used to Yeong’s smiles, and his surprisingly strong opinions about ice-skating, and the way he pauses for a minute, inhaling the scent of his tea before sipping it. He’s used to Yeong sprawled loose limbed, on his couch as they argue about the which team should take the league cup, and hopping around in agony when Ji-hun tries out a new ramen recipe and spice, eyes streaming, and the stillness with which he sits , while Ji-hun plays the first movement of the moonlight sonata, and his eyes when he says, softly, “that was beautiful”.

The last ten years- the last ten years have been an arid desert compared to this- because he’s constantly been on his guard, always being careful not to let his feelings show, trying his damnedest to be the brother and king that Yeong thinks of him as, and Yeong had- Yeong had been the same, he realizes now. Yeong had maintained a distance too- the distance between a liege and knight, even one who was like a brother.

And now the rains have come, and things are sprouting green and wonderful and fresh, and Gon wants to let it grow into a garden, lush and colourful, for whatever time he has.

He wants to wander around this new, strange city with Yeong, discovering its sight and tastes and sounds and smells, and then, tired and happy, he wants to take him home and curl up with him, and he knows- he knows it in his marrow- that it could happen- that he could make Yeong his, really his- if only, if only he had the goddamn time—

“I have to go” he says, dully, rising to his feet.

She nods in silence and watches him leave.

 So that’s what he does, for the next two weeks, wandering between worlds, sleep deprived and bone tired, and the happiest he has been in a decade, Yeong by his side.

He thinks- he hopes desperately- that Yeong is happy too.

In the third week, he shows up as Lee Gon to meet Yeong.

Yeong is in his dark suit, with his collar buttoned.

“Your Majesty” he says, bowing.

They’re in a small diner, nobody looks at them.

If they did, what would they see, Gon wonders.

Would they wonder who these two men are, what their relationship is; one of them relaxed against the cheap faux leather of his seat, while the other sits up straight, tension in every line of his body.

“Relax, Yeong” he murmurs, leaning forward, putting his elbows on the table. “You’ll make people stare”.

It’s almost painful, watching Yeong make the effort.

“Your Majesty” Yeong says, quietly, “Are you well?”

“As you see” he says, with a small shrug. “I’m perfectly fine”.

Yeong’s eyes search his.

It’s fine, Gon has learnt to hide from Yeong.

“How’s Lee Ji-Hun?” he asks.

“Not in any danger” says Yeong, and picks up his coffee mug, taking a deep swallow.

He doesn’t volunteer anything more.

“What is he like?” Gon asks, because he has to know.

Yeong sighs, and then looks up, meeting his gaze.

“Sometimes I think he’s you” Yeong says, “Sometimes”.

Gon feels his heartbeat speed up.

“In what way?”

“He has your face”

“What else?”

“Your Majesty” Yeong says, “I think it’s time I went home”.

“Lee Lim could…”

“Lee Lim is more likely to make an attempt in Corea” Yeong argues, “He’s not interested in Lee Ji-hun, why would he be?”

“Why do you want to go home?” Gon asks, abrupt.

“Because you’re there” Yeong replies, and it sounds- sounds so simple- when he states it like that, and Gon is sick to his stomach.

“You’ll stay here” Gon says, “As long as I want you to”.

Yeong stares at him, the hurt in his eyes obvious.

“Yes, Your Majesty”.

 Later that night, after Gon has- dismissed – Yeong, and taken a long, miserable, lonely walk, he lets himself into the studio. A warm shower might help, he thinks, tired and heart aching.

He’s just pulled on his pajamas and a t-shirt, when there’s a knock on the door.

It’s Yeong.

He’s back to his casual attire, and seems to have showered too, after his meeting with His Majesty.

“Let’s watch Seven Samurai” he says, as he brushes past Gon, not waiting for an acceptance. “I’m in the mood for a movie”.

“Uh” says Gon, befuddled.

There’s one part of him that’s relieved to have Yeong- any Yeong- with him, there’s another that thinks, desperate, I can’t do it anymore, I can’t-

They watch it in silence for a while, sitting two feet apart, Gon with his feet curled up, and Yeong sitting oddly straight, hands in his lap- as if-

Gon thinks there’s an odd tension between them, but he can no longer trust his own emotions and he wants- that’s all he is now, he thinks, a creature stitched of want and weariness-

“Yeong” he says.

Yeong’s dark eyes are on his.

He reaches out a hand and covers Yeong’s hands with it.

Yeong’s sharp inhale, and his exhale are swallowed as their mouths come together.

“Yeong” he moans, after a minute, and his wants and needs are expanding every moment like the universe, and if Yeong doesn’t- doesn’t-

But Yeong does.

He pushes Gon down on the couch and clambers over him, his mouth already red and wet with Gon’s kisses, his eyes burning into Gon’s, and his hands tugging at Gon’s t-shirt.

Gon grabs his wrists.

“Bed” he gasps, and he’s a little shocked at how high and needy it sounds. “I want you to-I need you to-“

Yeong stills.

Please, Gon whispers, and he’s not above begging, he’s not above getting on his knees-

Yeong slides off his legs and gets to his feet, looking down at Gon.  

For a moment they stay frozen like that, Yeong’s wrists locked in Gon’s grip, and all the air in the room is gone, Gon, thinks, lightheaded.

Then Yeong breaks his grip, easy, like he’s trained to do, and he’s hauling Gon up by his hand instead, and into his arms, and then they’re stumbling toward the bed, barely six feet away, clothes flying in all directions as they try to do several things at once, and Gon’s not being kissed, he’s being devoured, he thinks helpless, as he falls into the bed with Yeong above him, something fierce and intent in his eyes, and it reminds Gon of that time they went bungee jumping, the roaring in his ears, the wild thudding of his heart, and sensation of falling, falling, falling, but Yeong’s there to catch him, as he always has been, and always will be.

 Afterward, Gon kisses the top of his spine, and nuzzles at the soft skin under his ear, curled sleepy and content around Yeong, hands splayed across Yeong’s rib cage.

Yeong sighs.

Slowly, his body relaxes against Gon’s and his breathing evens out.

 In the morning, Yeong is already dressed when Gon wakes up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Do you have to go so early?” he rasps out. “I’ll make you breakfast”.

Yeong’s smile is apologetic.

“Sorry” he says, “Can’t stay”.

Gon blinks up at him.

“Oh” he says.

“Will I see you this evening?”

Yeong says, quietly, “There’s another matter I have to attend to”.

Gon nods.

This is Yeong trying to let him down gently, he realizes.

“Alright” he says, and oh, is this what heartbreak is, this quiet shattering, surely there should be more noise, “Alright”.

 Of course, he does see Yeong that night, except that it’s as Lee Gon, as himself.

It seems he needs some reminding of that fact.

“Your Majesty”.

Gon has chosen a place that Yeong and Lee Ji-hun had been to just last week, talking and laughing for hours over food and beer.

It’s cruel; he consoles himself that the cruelty is directed toward himself, for Yeong obviously doesn’t care.

He sits, straight-backed and prim as ever.

“How was your day?” Gon asks, eyes on the menu. “Anything new to report?”

When there’s silence, he looks up.

“I’ve compromised the mission” Yeong says, quietly. “I slept with Lee Ji-hun”.

Gon stares.

Whatever else he’d expected from Yeong, it wasn’t this.

“Why?” he says, and it doesn’t matter that his voice comes out strangled.

“Because he has your face” Yeong says, still in that quiet voice,  “Because sometimes, he’s you, and I was greedy, and tired of wanting, but not having, and I couldn’t help myself”.

“Yeong”.

“Is it treason?” Yeong whispers, “To want you like this?”

Gon swallows hard.

“You know” he says, and his voice wobbles, a little,  “There’s sencha at the palace too, but you never drink it there. Why?”

Yeong’s face does too many things for him to parse.

 “Why?”

“I was greedy, and tired of wanting, but not having, and I couldn’t help myself”.

“You never asked” Yeong says, and it sounds like he’s bleeding. “Don’t you know there’s nothing I would deny you?”

“That” says Gon, softly, “was the problem. I wanted you to want me”.

“You are not a soul divided” Yeong says, “not to me”.

Gon nods.

“I know” he says, “but I feel like that. Sometimes. All the time”.

“Gon”

It’s the first time that Yeong has called him that, the first time since they were children, and Gon had stupidly bought a soul without thinking of the consequence.

His name in Yeong’s mouth sounds like that’s where it was always meant to be.

He places his hand on the table, palm turned upward.

“Yeong” he says, “Forgive me”.

Yeong takes his hand and presses a kiss to his palm, and then turns it over, and kisses his ring, the one that means lord, master, king.

His dark eyes are not as unfathomable as Gon had thought, after all.

Gon exhales shakily.

“Alright” he says, “Alright”.

Their fingers tangle and stay that way, while they smile at each other, foolish, and Gon thinks, surely, everybody must be staring, how inconceivable for it to be any other way, when he feels like he’s been lit up from the inside by a thousand suns.

But no one is.

After a minute, Gon says, “Eun-sup told me the japchae here is pretty good as well”.

“Eun-sup” says Yeong, “knows nothing”.