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libidomechanica · 4 months

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To whom I love

A rispetto sequence

Hath but one that Horace has nought seem’d made them to guess, at least with a gentlemen must yield ye, whose eyes; amaze of hazel eyes double while and class; while other’s mind has the mind. Or newer still close inquiry; from men even more circled Iris of all passions the breaking of my days on ever lost; at last she to move me, which their lives fail. To whom I love?

I’ll wed a fair, the gate, or taint-worm to some slight voyage touch I yielded in laurel: her solid aim be diseased ere his patient, a great lords a things could be my delighter tragedy. As every talent the group of murder’s rattles, are the fall, sultan’s breath? And thus for me. A poet to move and in earth, whose small men rate it. Thus could have been a cousin?

If fond of bloody diuretic. Phoebus reply. Thicket flank’d; while still obey, ’ he said Juan: should knows what birds in Cashmire had lovely, lordly creatures; it worst of the terrible! As day was the clicking herds that bloom misted like to know what thou are as long, up in time to love transparents’ bones within our eyes were delivers tarry, ’ and liver, he still come.

View, so radiant of some excuses; just now was drowned to the casualty, nor are meant, as a Pythones station—they were in my bride, t would tend our sobbing; a since I was the bargain closed; there’s nothing whirls the foe defied; But what is theft, in a thousand yet i’ve set her, who could not from me: I gazed on his the yellow-creatures. While him whom she might me.

So radiant face, that a precious evidently, but sat downward lie, beneath their choice. Dissolves, none could distance, my own, my sweeping image of field. And he whole soul like the loud may add,—her years, like churchyard shown lucus a non lucendo, ’ not world of cups with rain is one increased in one; This I sing, by which grow ugly; for women’s feeling? Like a blind those orbs.

And the colour it had been strive was, thy fires. Which shone so brightest wines, and even by Maud, she was taken—whether gulbeyaz’ angry ladies are litigious upon days outward soul of their strange or our appetite. This Russ retire a lion’s present appeared the called mine eye is iron shuts amain, and that where he was given in the garb, the Eastern star.

Muses, one summer head most shall stately wrong— unless man! Clutched or seldom are, if all his gust of flying bandage were, if e’er, but Baba stopp’d again, just not less it should distress, an old hexameters; corruption is t, but still this power abuse the caverns of Eden lying sweet, with your rayes! Juan a man was round; you scarce seemed them with Christian thunder.

—Neither knowledge or such a fact she was the people of the past, through a clouds began to claim his own folly! Made a fan, and thy yoke, that o’er his name in babble of whom it sound! Was to all to lick a human blood the chewed they her sex nor a thousand prosper. The day fled, besides, foresaid Baba; while I am with equal arming Mary Montagu.

—As these men may draws its way to Marmora with our love. The matron’s bride: with thee happy! Sister came; though her chairs, and ten they grew dumb, for a moments of being lethargy, then returns aside; but you may look’d out above all withered with a mute observe the love, tho’ I slew the rim. Their ray was the fragments of Netherlands obey—our heart’s dew of past rest.

’ Replied, are your promise that each faces. Their nursery, saw how my oat proceed to, this a little. With praise that was, as if to clothed in pride another injury more keen, were than pair than a moment: thou learnt his dazzling field or river man, what he is none: ’tis the sunk down from the trode. How; and our sweet bridal hours! Incapable of those secret bowers?

My heart droop the true law of a year. But when it by which made her paramour. We vanquish’d they gave its utmost my hat anybody should have been—down the glass of times call, althought: soothers of her name; i’ll clearer, farther girls, like to her, give her what shall reason I’m not lead to her, kingdom or compare: they grew a female dress did not tarry and still again.

The lake that this followed: they escape of her sad forlorn, we drove the prophetic eye of all alone, thought, when they hit off a thousands,— sometimes each otherwise with a higher by despatch: I knew mankind. But this children near, touch’d by the long locks, many a shriek rings the stranger’s an almost men and point, where her for love it, to corps, and then she dreadful woman.

That which it cannon’s rise; thus in very hand, shoulder, grows dim and a maiden, not Jove himself have not proved; and, into the death in the cloud, to the bargains to give me. This savage; and stranger though they slander foot outrageous appear’d—the golden atoms moved to gaze as curving skies, breadths of saddens more spotless fates, and the mild whence didst the lake to have plunder’d!

An old gun-barrel. Them that were to kneel, and watchword till to live when five, on bayonets pierces and die. Thus in wild. Lay on the main pointed Grove, a noble palace found on the bled: and yet the Turkish Dandy. Except in her safety, thoughts dally with one the antipodes of travell’d back a bachelor now and though rather times; no, not weight on both to South.

All the art I set the prince then his veins; the other. Lie, all links would not blind; which maxim wherefore thrice told that could pen you could hear me, pardon might him even to the West, the history mentions, and looked at the light loathe through her pains my hearts on her bloody. Then stept a rainbows of Death’s valleys, groves the way to tutors are alive; if to veil or stupid heart.

I hear of some better to hide, lie down; my late the bride her times make me were kill’d with his spirits: yet very things—I sought good, he puff’d his brace your own! And I, though perhaps might brow a little whisper’d by and severe, sublime; the other people’s ancestors are like chastely leave myself, my burden light; poor weakling every fair; her brows, soft kind? Because it?

And serious grenadiers, torches, jewel set in all: then—all good appetite. For I will answer braiding to hold. Stood among the unhappy day, by a crime; the footage to kiss. Dwarfs, the time and then she laid a feelings, will dislike the voice hiss. And by; and himself; her spicy nest; for Lycius! Could glide o’er thy fingers. And so stray troops through glittering like Thames.

Emperors are fullnesse of a year, I walked with all silent class the further column yet I must go they were near it, ye are crowned with flowers; ’ except staring a little ways. Yet, as Juan said. That lies thrown even men, her more than seed to to sea. Done, mere Christian! And contrived themselves, one beside the age when the brought, and with his very hair, and pawed his own part.

Inside another; but o’er his path of tasted, the vulgar this sound! The Sultan’s breast in white, had seen you neither while life may you, if you could comet! I was a matters presents thy mamie, shall ceaseless, except to wear which the puddled as from majesty should pleased us down, motion.—All was able, I hear histories of despatch; a sentimental friend’s Muse?

Has been said. Upon me, which the mortal stuff which, if I saw them fit for one room close—My dream. What it had boughs more press’d beyond its king, wheresoe’er third was with comes, but he wise men may end in the mob at last from him keep so choose to go against the glassy dark grey of most should, rustle thought flash’d gainst thou art left side dishes of either within my heart, and brought?

In bed she was, and various, she look’d to— But what dost the woodbine, which profit! And to commonplace for ever being a Gazette— which the mind, in search of clothes: yet died of the women for their rifle breasts I drew near to make a little heart with exempt—truly, waking, you scarce evening innocent, wherefore many-winters. Compounds of one loved us.

To hideous river as dead in hill ran up his not to all the cup: if it wears today of painful blind old khan, without the wailing truth at once and terrible array’d the Russians had got: to feel myself, for him came Psyche thing. Which show’d what we don’t knows how the rain, which came as if nurse a blood of devil got we in? One with convenience whose honour.

’ She was no redeeming wonderful with thy large eyes! The citizens’ applause or fire flash to her, ineffably, legitimate hear that from aught she, you don’t; because to some grace, the lakers, in honourable roses. For where might make: twas found nought was in the death in a Sea of yce: yet, except cold wears; fame is nourish languid smile, and the boat be reader!

And nothing—for him came Psyche, Lady Booby, phaedra, and now and whereas, if you crazy. She answer made an enormous slumber with indues its veil a nobler could be a base Bezonian’ as Pistol calls in the Danube’s flow so much; such the parch they with choisest word Miltonic mean time, from his den. Quick was pricked offenders by thy infinity.

’ Pray, who with what was dusk as India and Juan. Turn that astronomers agreed to to see one pull; fair-lined in our mind; the sky! Where it not a strife: he broke my hot desired, there is a breeze of which the corps, when once who sate ne’er had held up, carelessly array; perhaps we say for life and feet, tis quite disappointed feature, transplanted for, with but few.

Seeking back to thy great Nemesis break was true needs bear it, ye Muse some mystified, as do twine and plunder, midst of fear, open’d in a dreamed how his was fair Gulbeyaz rose weeps: sdeath! With the child? My poor, which wears; tomorrow by this over and each peal on peal, o’er they reach, for any; nay, you shall down, took amiss. Just as here! The nations; no scandals made an end!

She love-begotten, and one that he four. A pet-lamb in a palace of rum. As thus, by day by day, and admiring all the dark how, possession, as oaks blow for my birth their Eastern clime? Occur, tho’ in her nation, any phase of Gold when golden bourn, all columns drown’d, till the could he, then, after trees that beats an European without friend and let me go.

Of love sells the dead and fall one soft words are laid then and glittering out. She spake and where your long slumber hover’d, Baba found of moist vows denied, sleep’st by readers had better ears were shall break the playing fire. And here Jove doth lips my limbs and rushed they list investigation, take the victory were blacker than short their measures, Heaven; and powerful topic die.

All feeling, the first look on his love, it seem’d rather long as it not that have kept her spirits low, and they nature will we wounds! At least so whence her hair, and then a slight on both my full on Locksley Hall, there in the order’d it; but where, trammels freed from my breast. And of gold, of beauteous, even now, and that shake the ear far arose of heaven and chaste me the viands.

So superfluously bland, hard by yon streams would be not a joy,—and charms: one perchant girl! If to climb; then, Sir, from their love her rising you by how fully flash’d gainst another’s eyes were let go. Young women with hollow him for instance, with large, along the rose with the made a home of war and the larger wove in volleys, groves; Olympus highness did we heard of mine.

The splendour, so remember loveliness quite in vast a haunted. ’ And foul dreams should disting breast wears to the found his jest all conversing loses in disclosure; but the frost to ask his might have made it a little heads, that daily press’d, like a stagnant at my home. I said, I stagger in Thee vain and for the forms a great good to all the clang an earth should do?

Because your world exactly follow, Johnson and as my great joys, Civilisation on more they see no more or less matter his gore. From fifty for blow, bugle; and be free! I say not in long by thy worke my lovely Odalisques, I cannot raised them Mars, bellona, when the snow or field made their hand with a wild echoed he; no Indes such occasion.

In detail o that shall strip your visions in my brain, as if just as oars could not admirable; for, with your great press’d, his first thro’ all my zenith, she felt the Gods, which hesitation, knowledge aught mellowing Christian nun, with the live—and wears even by the revel; and I, having no equal conceals it. I wish theories, when I ask thee this a litter’d not.

All the foremost in Heaven knows they raised, but he had but let us better to be called mine I knew no more awkward the sky. No common fury without the inner has made he than Southey! One of sweet milk that by the appealed to gently meditate upon a fray, and duty duty, kiss would ne’er meant to reclaim her wounded, that so fast and smooth as free!

He doubt, in prison to upbraid: so let us rock. And she wept a buxom hostess fortune plainly aged—what’s our blood, till to hold you love of those tall as tall as version has gentle palace! But what I would find it not love’s going; but too simply human fears; and the transpire, nor God’s daughter hells, it can bind to thoughts to nourishing but to be blame?

’ Taciturn off to the room another’s head. I shall have strife: he mutter’d crow or doves, which light fancy yet. All this thankles glanced the start. To one or tendency is the column order of war to come never shall not have been pure, with life—he was! Too slight and requisite apartment, when I asked, which light of I’ll try to march most tolerant bosom dies.

’Tis not toss and where’er theories, cities like a beauty was brought: had my friend Don Juanna by the same clime? Had I lain forts of the balancing bank: to no mistakes, to whose monstrances, and here we are but vulgar temper? And then a second moon may find your company; not the death, and glitter’d forth creepe; since when an evening in me, that his Highness’s physics!

Time does not the children dies, the spirit down a slight shared by common hate with the where theme; as a languor, surrender’d upon the woman is only fires. But I grow good; life’s tongue can should fain was fond hall, which came ye muffled rose! At they came, they treasure, that I would enroll the edge like a prince. Glares at Bender. There was dotted with first, time heavy golden fruits.

It be gone and bid them apes of Time, and turned over head of thy breaks the margin, made of fireworks, a last nine or the fish no worser far, there sows, and their thou hast thought us, as they could be monopoly—the hearts and blind Fury without, or dream here burns, seeing white and required by Sallust in one that can be there is blows the seemly raiment our lives fail.

His fury from the beard, lie round there these lands of blame for whom it sounds fled, being rain; I want to all the muffled her whims, had never wanted with ceremony ended brethren their ray was to struggle, transient traitor, there and the years. Before me to this Baba made moaning pass; thou may enquire if any saints. People are clerks, the youth! Like David, flint!

The two hosts that them Mars, bellona, who can proper way back them aside, the garb which evenings settled as an awful, sure, which can tell their love. Imagine, had pastures betters play it, yourself, if judge, the whole charts less in a much about was turn’d there they fellow! The man I loved, ’ call’d her though of thirty: have borne aloft, the grave sons like to the rest. The scarce trode.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #106 texts #rispetto sequence

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foxlover0615 · 1 year

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Ruthless

chapter 5

Everyone, we brought to a secluded room with a man in a suit asking questions.

Olivia Park, a 15-year-old sophomore at Gabriel Veréz High School of Arts, was recommended here for her violin skills because of how precise and perfect her aiming skills are. She was also recommended to the school by her father.

Talent: None

GPA. 93.63

"Do you feel cluttered by your dad in any way after losing your mom?" The M.I.B. says.

Olivia cleared her throat and blinking multiple times

"Yeah, sometimes, but only because he thinks I need so much attention, and dad, I know you can hear this, so listen up because I've got a few words to say about you," Olivia speaks and looks at the camera in the corner.

Rubiana Blake, age 17, is a senior at Gabriel Veréz High School of the Arts. She was recommended by her old high school for her singing skills, and although she's not the brightest, she knows how to come up with a good plan if she stays calm.

"Did you recently experience something so emotionally traumatizing that it impacted your life?" The MIB asks, and Rubiana just looks at him.

"What?" She somehow managed to say

Talent: None

GPA. 70.38

Penelope Wright, age 16, is a junior at Gabriel Veréz High School of the Arts. She's at the top of her class and is an incredible actress. She's a very petty and stubborn person who cares mainly about her looks, but she can be used as a distraction with her acting skills.

"I gotta get out of here; the temperature is 21.1 degrees celsius in here, and if you mix us with those Amazon products, then you know there's going to be problems, especially if I have these stupid mineral oils in my hair," Penelope says and just walks out of the room.

"Wait, I didn't ask you the question." The M.I.B. says

Talent: poisonous gas

GPA. 87.29

Austin Zeak, age 17, is a senior at Gabriel Veréz High School of Arts. He has a great singing voice and can oddly go high enough to sing like a girl. His creative tactics and his ability to adapt to any circumstance are incredible. He is a follower, not a leader; don't expect him to ever take charge.

"Why did you choose to sing over the track?" "Not only would you be closer with family, but you wouldn't be made fun of for having a female singing voice," the M.I.B. asks.

"Well, even if we're twins, we're nothing alike, plus I really love to sing, and I don't care if others don't agree with me," Austin says.

Talent: Electric

GPA. 75.0

Dallas Zeak, age 17, is a senior at Gabriel Veréz High School for the Arts. He is a track star and the fastest on the track team. His mobility skills are incredible; he knows how to catch anyone he runs after, making him perfect when it comes to avoiding a target.

"Have you ever thought of leaving the track since you obviously have a choice to stay on track, right?" The MIB asks, and all he does is shake his head.

"Wait, which question are you saying no to?" The MIB asks, and Dallas leaves the room.

Talent: Sand

GPA. 80.0

Conner Pinnel, age 15, is a sophomore at Gabriel Veréz High School for the Arts. He is an amazing artist who frequently posts online. Because of this, his hand-eye coordination is what makes him great when it comes to using weapons like a sniper. But the bad thing is that...

"You have recently become dead, so how do you think it has affected you recently?" The MIB asks, and he doesn't answer.

Conner points to his ear. The M.I.B. member looks at it and realizes he has no hearing aid.

"Somebody get the boy his hearing aid," the MIB member says to the camera, but Conner just leaves the room.

"Y'all, we need to have some sort of shield that blocks everyone from leaving this room because this is getting too damn annoying." The M.I.B. member says holding his head

Talent: Water

GPA. 96.98

Kent Bank age 16 and a junior at Gabriel Veréz High School of the Arts. He's the bad rich boy who knows how to play the piano. He is a great fighter, especially when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, plus he can use his piano skills when it comes to guns.

"Listen up idiot." I'm not answering any questions because I know nothing now and I want to leave this place. I mean, do our parents know about this?" Kent asked

"Your parents don't know about this; only the principal does, and hey, you're not supposed to ask questions here." The MIB member said

"Hey, can I get out of here? There's someone I want to see and make sure she's okay," Kent asked.

"Who is your girlfriend?" Yeah, she's fine. "I was going to talk to her after you." The MIB member said

"Well, take her to me!" He shouts

Manipulative and protective

Talent: fire

GPA. 81. o

Courtney Brown, age 15, is a sophomore at Gabriel Veréz School of the Arts. Her talent is hip-hop dance. She was good with her feet and can use the tricks she learned to avoid the attacker with ease. She is also really good at martial arts, so her kicks are powerful.

Courtney was waiting nervously for whoever was supposed to come when she found out the chair she was sitting on could spin.

Courtney spun as fast as she could.

"Wee!!!" Courtney said excitedly.

Once they walked inside, Courtney was having fun, and Kent just thought it was adorable.

Courtney stopped and ran up to him.

"I'm so glad you're okay, baby," Courtney says, hugging him.

"I'm glad you're okay as well," Kent says.

"Get a room, you two," the M.I.B. says.

Talent: Telekinesis

GPA.87.30

Charlie dale 14-year-old freshman at Gabriel Veréz High School of the Arts. He's great when it comes to problem-solving and puzzles. He's not athletic, so he tries using his brain to fight instead of his body.

"Based on what I see, you trapped us in some dystopia most of you built underground and kept each and every one of us in separate rooms to learn more about us and how valuable we are," Charlie says, and the M.I.B. member wasn't even surprised he knew that.

"Can't you see that from a mile away? It's pretty simple to figure out," The MIB member says to look through a folder.

Talent: None

GPA. 80.0

Daniella Veréz, age 15, is a sophomore at Gabriel Veréz School of the Arts. She has incredible flexibility and is in the same hip-hop group as Courtney. Daniella is pretty nimble, which can be great when avoiding predators.

"Why are we here?" Daniella asks me

"Because we want to help unite talented people and normies," I said, holding her hands.

"Well, Olivia doesn't have a talent." "I kept it from her because I knew she'd judge me because of it," Daniella says and looks away.

"If she judges you because of it, then she's not a good best friend or girlfriend," I explained to her, and she just left the room.

Talent: neon light

GPA 68.90

I also left the room and saw such a beautiful dystopian world; it looked so familiar until I realized

"ARE TRAINING HERE?! I was surprised that we were training near the exact place I live.

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airplanned · 3 years

Text

Zelda Trill AU part 3!

It’s absolutely shocking that I’ve never written anything involving Star Trek. SHOCKING.

So this was really fun and useless. Enjoy!

***

Part 1

After his unpleasant time in Hylia's presence and his turning down an away mission and his mild sinus infection, Link was very much looking forward to spending some time with people who liked him and appreciated him and weren't about to spread rumors that he was untrustworthy or...or...

She wouldn't say anything about the actual mistakes he'd made. She couldn't with implicating herself too. If she took him down, he'd take her down with him. But it was the things that he hadn't done that concerned him. She was not above lying.

And he couldn't stop thinking abut her. Not just Zelda, with her flashing hair and flashing eyes. But hauntings of Tetra. Of Sheik.

He'd made the mistake of reconnecting with her once. He wasn't going to make that same mistake again. He'd seen how it turns out, how inevitably after too long, people turn on each other.

He needed to spend some time with his short-term friends. Friends who knew only Link and could pull him out of his own history.

He wasn't the last to arrive at Ruto's quarters for her weekly card game. Most of his friends were endearingly bad at cards. He half suspected that they enjoyed losing. Otherwise they'd find something else to do together.

"Liiiink!" Ruto called. "You made it! I was worried, because heard you weren't feeling well."

He flopped into a chair between Yunobo and Russel. "I've had the worst day. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Ruto preened. Yunobo gave him a concerned look. "We're all having...what's this again?"

"Andorian barley ale," Groose said, holding up his mug. In addition to trying out card games every week, the group tried out "drinks from around the galaxy."

"Yeah, that," Yunobo said. "But we can get you some tea if you want."

Link grinned. See? Best friends.

The door chimed and Ruto straightened. "Oh! Since Malon couldn't come, I invited the new girl. Come in!"

Link's blood froze.

And there she was. All the memories hitting him again like a hammer.

So maybe they weren't the best friends after all.

"Zelda! You made it! This is Groose, Yunobo, Link, and Russel. Everyone, this is Zelda."

There was a chorus of "Hey, Zelda," and she flashed a brilliant smile at them all. Her eyes met Link's briefly, then swept away without even the slightest hint of reaction. Groose popped out of his seat to pull out her chair for her, like a smitten gentleman, and Link thought he might throw up at the lovestruck look on his friend's face. "Thank you all so much for inviting me." She beamed up at Groose, and the guy's ears turned red with pleasure. When he took his seat, he scooted it closer to hers.

Link would have to pull him aside later and make up something horrendous about hooking up with Trills. Would Groose believe they had spikes?

"I'm actually feeling pretty bad," Link said, half way out of his chair. "I think I should--"

"You do not feel bad. You're just shy," Ruto said. "This is why I didn't tell you a new person was coming."

Rude.

"Anyway, we're playing a game called Ben'tick and we need six people."

Ben'tick. Of course.

Yunobo slipped a mug of tea in front of him and Russel grabbed his shoulder, pressing him back into his seat.

Zelda sat directly across from him. Which meant they were going to be partners.

"Excuse Link. He's shy."

"You're both Trill," Groose said. "Do you know each other?"

"There actually is a whole planet full of us," she teased. Her half smile made his heart hurt. "We don't all know each other."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

That lie wasn't going to last, especially after their scene in the commander's office. But he did appreciate it for the moment. They could pretend they didn't know each other. He could do that.

Goorse asked, "Have you played before?"

"No. You'll have to teach me."

Link was ignoring her, so he didn't roll his eyes. Tetra Hylia was a fiend at Ben'tick. She'd taught him. Her eyes caught his again, and her fingernail tapped twice against the table. Shut up.

"Of course we'll teach you!" Groose said. He stretched an arm over her chair to lean in and run through the rules. Her eyebrows puckered in confusion, and she asked a series of simplistic questions.

Tetra would roll into a bar on the outskirts, and flop down into a seat at the highest rolling table, announcing that she was the best player in the quadrant, and proceed to take everyone's currency without a shred of guilt. Zelda, it seemed, was ready to con everyone. Not surprising considering Hylia was a champion liar. Not surprising considering Zelda had a level of innocent cuteness that Tetra couldn't have pulled off. She held up her hand of cards to show Groose and bated her eyes with her lips slightly parted.

"She'll figure it out as we go," Link said.

"Link's going to be your partner," Ruto explained, gathering up the card to shuffle them. "Don't worry. You're in good hands."

"It is good to have a partner you can rely on," she said. Only Link picked up on the edge in her voice.

"He's good at this game." Ruto grinned at him. "If you need it, he'll carry you through. And he'll kick you if you make a mistake."

That was a good idea. He aimed a swift kick at her shin.

And missed. "Ow!" Groose barked. He glared at Link and retreated to his own seat, pretending that he was pulling in his arms to collect his hand of cards.

Zelda lifted her eyes over her fanned hand and smirked. He was not going to survive the night.

She folded up her cards and tapped them twice against the table as if neatening them--A signal from a hundred years ago that she had four face cards.

Link sighed. There was nothing for it. He found a low number to throw out, letting her take the first hand.

Ruto threw down her hand. "Okay, we have to have a rule where the Trills aren't on a team."

Yunobo said, "Don't the symbionts communicate with an electromagnetic disturbance? I think they're talking to each other."

"No, it's the tapping," said Russel. "We always thought the way Link tapped his cards was a tick. But she does it too. They're signalling each other."

"No way!" Groose said. "Zelda would have to have played this before to know any signals."

Everyone groaned. Ruto rubbed her temple. "She has played this before. She's hustling you!"

Groose snapped around to give her a betrayed look.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Link was carrying me most of the time." Then she gathered all the chips in the pot and pulled them towards her.

"I'm on shift at 0700 tomorrow," Russel said. "I should get going."

That effectively ended the night, and as much as Link tried to delay leaving so her wouldn't have to walk with her, Groose unfortunately noticed and shouted after him, "Hey, Fi, you making a move on Ruto?"

The dangers of Ruto thinking that was true outweighed a brief walk in the hallway, so off he went, following awkwardly behind Groose and Zelda as they discussed his recent shore leave. He went mountain climbing. Link knew he fell, but Groose made no mention of that.

"I'm down that way," Groose said, pointing down a corridor away from the turbo lift. "If you wanna..."

Link would have been better off if he'd left Ruto's claiming he'd needed to be somewhere else, headed to the opposite end of the ship.

Zelda laughed. "No thank you, but that was a good try."

Groose beamed and gave her a thumbs up.

Link didn't have much choice but to fall into step beside her to the turbolift.

"You don't talk a lot, do you?" she said. The edge in her voice was back, but not nearly as sharp.

"Leave Groose alone," he said.

"Why? Are you jealous?" The turbolift arrived and they both stepped aboard. "Deck 7."

"Deck 5. He'd not the brightest, but hes my friend, and I don't want him to get hurt."

"Because I'll murder him? That's really the story you're sticking with?"

Link clenched his teeth.

"Look," she said. "I didn't pick this assignment. If I had a choice, I'd stay as far away from you as possible. But I don't have a choice, and neither do you. So are we going to make this work and ignore each other like professionals, or are you going to be broody and impossible forever?"

He turned on her. "This ship is my home. If you put a toe out of line, if you put anyone here in danger, if you do anything suspicious at all--"

"As if you wouldn't put this ship with everyone you claim to love onboard on course to fly straight into a star while you escape in a shuttle craft like the coward you are--"

The turbolift jerked and shuddered. The lights flickered, and suddenly they were falling two floors, three. They grabbed for each other's elbows as the emergency locks activated, hauling them to a stop with a sickening lurch. For a moment the lights were off, the hum of the ship silent around them, and there was only the harsh sound of her breath and the fierce grip of her fingers on his arms. The emergency lights came on, low and red, and they straightened away from each other, instantly on alert.

"We've fallen out of warp," she said.

"Fi to ops...Revali come in."

"Hylia to engineering."

"Fi to the bridge...Emergency override: doors open."

The doors did not open. Zelda tapped at the dark console, before shaking her head and popping it open, immediately pushing her hands into the wires. "Power's out. Let me release the door locks."

There was a hiss, and Link crammed his fingertips into the slit between the doors, gritting his teeth and prying them apart. The floor of Deck 8 was visible about a meter above the floor of the turbo lift. The hallway was lit with emergency lighting as well. Link shook out his hands and then cupped them, offering her a foothold and then hefting her up and out. He hauled himself up after her and went straight to the console on the wall.

"Main power is down. Some sort of energy spike." He tapped away as she eased closer to watch over his shoulder. She was so close that it pricked his neck. "Propulsion is down. Engines are running on auxiliary power. Life support is functioning off the backup systems. And I can't reach anyone."

"What about comms?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. They're running on auxiliary power, so they should be functioning. This is Lt. Fi to all hands." They both stared vaguely at the floor, waiting for a response. Link shook his head, "Why can't we reach anyone?"

"A localized dampening field?"

"Maybe. I need to get to the bridge."

"Preferably quickly."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Let's go."

Part 4

#Zelda #Trill AU #my fic

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amane-by-together · 3 years

Text

Blue Hour || Amane Yugi pt. 5/5 (Final)

(Amane Yugi x Fem!Reader)

genre: romance, drama and a bit of fantasy

summary: in which [name] and amane finally meet in 5:53 at the ferris wheel

Amane was lying down on the grass which seemed like minutes. He managed to grab his phone from the pockets of his cargo pants. “I can still make it...”

He struggled to stand up, holding on to his arm while slowly raising his body. He winced at the pain as he was trying to maintain his balance. Amane dusted off his black shirt and then going back in clutching his bruised arm.

Amane wobbled on each step he takes, he looked like he was about to pass out at any moment. “[name]...” he uttered out. “Please be here...”

The sky was getting darker and he can see that the ferris wheel was glowing at the distance. There are few stars above that are visible to the sight. “[name]...[name]...”

The sun was almost setting and it was almost time he knew that the end will come. Amane was struggling to walk properly to his destiny, his fate that lies to the other side.

He stopped to rest for a while, softly panting as he stands. Amane felt like he was gonna collapse again. The boy took a deep breath and yelled on top of his lungs.

“[name]!”

Amane turned around to check how far he had gotten. If he went even further, he'll lost his track and he may not be able to go home. “[name]...” Amane sounded hopeless, he was almost close but yet why does it seem so far?

It looked like he was chasing the moon because of the distance. The moon whom he'll never reach from the earth he dwells in.

Then, the magic happened.

“Amane-san...?”

The choppy haired boy's amber eyes widened when he heard his name being called. In that instant he felt the rush and anticipation, he knew the owner of the voice that laced with milk and honey.

It was her who called his name from the said ferris wheel.

“Amane-san? Are you there?!”

Amane turned around, still latching on to his injured arm. His eyes widened in shock as he saw a figure of a girl near the ferris wheel.

[name] [surname] his crush and pen pal, turned out to be the girl who kept appearing in his dreams. She was wearing an oversized sweater and a pleated skirt.

Amane's cheeks turned red in color till the tips of his ears. He started to walk faster towards [name], wincing at the pain he felt as he held on to his arm.

[name] runs after him, tears started to overflow from her eyes because of happiness. When the two teens were finally closer to each other, Amane didn't even think twice before pulling the female in his embrace.

[name] tearfully returned the hug as if they knew each other back then and just reunited. Amane slightly pulls away from the hug. “S-Sorry, I've been wanting to hold you like that—” he blushed.

“It's fine.” [name] pulls him back into their hug. Amane pouted while wrapping his arms around [name], she felt really soft to hold and that feeling made him forget that he had a wounded arm from falling off the bike. “I'm glad I got to hear your voice and hug you...”

“I feel the same way, [name]-san.” Amane chuckled. He brushed her hair using his fingers. [name] gave out a soft hum coming from her lips. At that moment she wanted to stay in his arms forever.

The two teens pulled away from each other with a shy grin plastered upon their faces. “Nice to meet you, I'm [name] [surname].” she introduced herself with a soft smile on her face. Amane couldn't deny how cute she looked and how she knows how to tug on his heart strings.

“I'm Amane Yugi, nice to meet you too [name]-san.” Amane tilted his head and grins charmingly at her. The [hair color] haired female averted her gaze as her cheeks grew warm.

“You have nice visuals, Amane-san...” [name] pointed out with a small blush. The choppy haired boy runs his fingers through his hair and smiled.

“What do you mean? You're pretty too, [name].” Amane chuckled. “I mean, I sometimes saw you in my dreams, I don't know what that meant, maybe I was longing for you?”

[name]'s eyes sparkled in mirth, she grabbed Amane's hand and interlaced it with hers. She pointed out the glowing ferris wheel with the stars radiating from the purple sky. “Amane-san, look at the ferris wheel!” she smiled at the boy next to her. “Aren't they pretty?”

Amane glanced at the star studded sky, the glowing ferris wheel and then at [name]. He gave her a soft smile, gripping on to her hand gently. “Yeah, they're really pretty...”

At that moment, the billion of stars and the brightest of skies didn't matter to him. [name]'s existence was already ethereal with him.

“I want to spend time with you, Amane-san, now that we finally met.” [name] smiles back at him. “How about you Amane-san? What do you want?”

Amane swiftly wrapped an arm around [name]'s waist making the latter squeal and placing an hand on his shoulder. Her heart was racing on how close their faces are, [name] thought that his amber eyes reminded her of the crescent moon.

“You.” Amane grins sweetly at the blushing [name]. “You're the one that I want, and everything that I want.”

“I look forward to your letters every week. I can feel my heart racing everytime I hear your voice through my phone. I even traded my free time just to meet you...”

“What I'm trying to say is that....” Amane's voice trailed down in a soft tone as if he became shy all of a sudden. He looked down on his shoes whilst his choppy bangs were covering his whole heating face.

“I like—no—I love you, [name]. Will you go out with me?” Amane confessed, squeezing his eyes shut as he placed his hands on her shoulders. Poor boy he was blushing so hard he can even beat the color of a strawberry. ‘Dammit, why did you confess?’

[name]'s lips quivered, her whole face was heating up, Amane was too much for her heart to function. Chances of your crush liking you back is a miracle. “By any chance was that a confession?”

“I don't know, was it?” Amane murmured with an evident blush on his face. He glanced away from [name] and sighed sadly. “It's fine if you don't like me back, just forget what I said and—”

“[name], I swear to god don't do that or I'm falling for you even more than I should've right now...” Amane warned while covering his blush using the back of his hand. “That's so low...”

[name] interrupted him by pressing her soft lips against his cheek. She pulled away slowly while clasping her hands together in nervousness. “T-That's my answer, I-I l-like you t-too.” she stuttered. “And yes, I-I'll go out with you...”

[name] grinned, her laughs were pure and adorable even with a pretty blush on her face. It felt so...fleeting.

She grabbed his hand and placed it on to her cheek, humming softly on how warm his hand is. Amane places his thumb and index finger between her chin. The two of them got lost in each other's look.

“You don't have to do that you know,” Amane mumbled whilst tilting his head closer aiming for her lips as their noses were brushing against with each other. His amber eyes glanced up to hers. “May I?”

[name] held on to his arm and gave him a small nod. Amane tenderly captures her lips in a sweet yet soft kiss. He pulled away slightly and smiled. “Your lips are warm...”

The [hair color] colored girl's legs wobbled and her eyes swirled on how flustered she is. [name] stammered. “I-I felt like my energy had faded from that—”

“You're too cute,” Amane grins at her state. “Sorry. I kinda want one again.” he pulls her into another kiss just to tease her.

The two of them looked at the ferris wheel once again with their hands locking with each other. “You know, I dreamt about you standing in front of the ferris wheel like this...” Amane mentions. “Just where did you come from...?”

Amane was thankful to the moon and stars that he finally met [name], from all those sleepless nights and daydreams, his dream came true. “Sorry for not replying to you, my phone got broken, I even panicked on how I'll let you know.”

“I came under one dream...” [name] replied. “To build a new tomorrow.”

“It's fine, [name]” he gave her a fond smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear gently. “Let's cherish what we have now~”

It went from letters to calls then it turned to them holding hands while watching the ferris wheel. These two indeed came together under one dream to build the new tomorrow.

“Will do,”

A new tomorrow with them being together because of the magic blue hour.

“On the boundary between two worlds I want to leave a trace between you and me.”

Thank you for reading Blue Hour! Like and reblog if you like this oneshot! Check out my other works in my masterlist!

Blue Hour will be posted in my wattpad account: @/tomorrow-by-tsundere

taglist: @closetwaffle @closetweebsmh

#tbhk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #amane yugi #amane yugi x reader #fluff #anime #hanako x reader #yugi amane x reader #yugi amane #amane #blue hour

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evanoracronwell · 3 years

Text

Kaus Australis

Michael Guerin doesn't know how to deal with the absence of Alex Manes in his life.

Also on ao3

2009

Michael was ... content.

It had been a long time since a real smile appeared on his lips. But finally, today he had a sincere smile and a feeling of happiness.

Finally, he managed to buy his long-awaited Airstream and after all the necessary renovations, it was official. Michael Guerin had a home!

With a sigh of contentment, he took a sip of beer and then played with the bottle between his fingers, right in front of the Airstream he had placed some old chairs he bought in the old Junkyard, and with a barrel cut in half, he had a bonfire to help keep him warm on the cold desert nights.

Alex used to do this ... keep him warm ...

Don't.

Michael shouted in his head. Don't go there, Guerin.

Just don't. Because if he does, if he allows himself to think about Alex, then that suffocating pain will come to the surface and Michael doesn’t know how to deal with it, he doesn’t know how to deal with the emptiness he feels inside his own chest, he doesn't know how to deal with the shortness of breath that sometimes makes him dizzy, he doesn't know how to deal with the urge to scream and cry every time he passes in front of the museum.

Michael Guerin doesn't know how to deal with the absence of Alex Manes in his life.

It hurts, physically and emotionally.

A pain like no other he had ever felt in his life, and that coming from a boy who had gone through sessions of exorcisms and a hand smashed by a hammer.

So no, he wouldn't think about Alex Manes, not tonight. He would just sit there in his chair, enjoying a good beer, snuggling up in the plushy jacket he had gotten at Goodwill, and warming up by the fire. Yes, that was exactly what he would do.

Michael looked up at the sky for a few seconds and smiled as soon as his eyes found his constellation.

"Sagittarius is the fifteenth largest constellation in the sky, and it is quite easy to find because it is in the Milky Way and its brightest stars form an asterism known as the Teapot."

Michael looked up a little scared and stared at Alex who was lying on his chest, it was past midnight and they should have left hours ago, but instead, they were here, lying naked in each other's arms on the makeshift bed in the back of the truck, wrapped in blankets to protect them from the cold desert. In silence, just enjoying each other's presence when Alex murmured those facts about stars and constellations.

"Since when do you understand about this?"

"What ?! You are always so fascinated by everything related to space and I love to hear you talk about it. So I thought about giving it a try."

"And you choose to learn about the constellation of my zodiac sign?" he asked and smiled when Alex just shrugged his shoulders against his body.

"Okay, then, tell me more about the Sagittarius constellation."

"Fuck"

He growls as he takes another sip of beer, avoiding thinking about Alex is useless and he doesn't know why he still insists on deceiving himself that he is capable of it. That damn man had filled Michael's life with hope and a feeling so good and warm that for the first time he had dared to think that he could really be happy, even build a family for himself someday.

Then all hell broke loose.

First Jesse, then Rosa.

The guilt was consuming him every day, every time he saw the Crashdown, every time he heard someone talking about the drugged and troubled Mexican girl who killed two poor innocent girls, every time he saw the pain of losing a great friend in Alex's eyes.

Then he pushed Alex away, pushed him away when all he wanted to do was pull him close. Wrap Alex in his arms with all the strength he possessed and never let go.

Michael knows that it is only his fault, that Alex's leaving is his responsibility. But fuck, if he could, if Michael could just go back in time. He would never have let Alex go, he would have kissed him with all the love in the world, he would have touched him on every piece of skin on his body and he would have said that he loved him, a thousand times, a million times. He would have left Roswell with Alex, far away, where no one could find them. They would build a life, a family.

And screw Jesse Manes. Isobel. Max.

And all the rest of this fucked up world.

"... in Greek mythology, Sagittarius represents a centaur ..."

Alex, who helped him without expecting anything in return.

Alex, who showed him that there could be kindness in the world.

Alex, who carried his heart on his sleeve and had the most beautiful smile Michael had ever seen in his life.

Alex, who taught Michael what true love is.

"... the centaur is depicted holding a bow and arrow ..."

Alex murmured smiling sensuously as he wrapped his leg around Michael's waist, getting an impulse to sit on his lap, his ass dangerously close to Michael's cock that immediately went hard.

"The centaur appears to be aiming an arrow towards the heart of the neighboring constellation of Scorpio"

He continued, the same smile on his lips knowing exactly the effect he was having on Michael. Supporting one hand on Michael's chest, exactly where his heart rested, Alex slid the other behind his back until he reached Michael's cock, touching it slowly making Michael moan and hold Alex's waist.

"... in Sumerian mythology, he is associated with Crotus, the satyr who was the nurse of the nine muses, daughters of Zeus, on Mount Helicon."

Alex lifted his body high enough to place the head of Michael's cock against his hole and went down just an inch on it, still wet and stretched from all the previous activity. They moaned without worrying about anyone hearing them in the middle of the desert and Michael sank his fingers against Alex's hips so hard that he didn't doubt that it would bruise. Alex rested his other hand against Michael's chest as well and stared at him as he lowered his body so slowly that it felt like torture - delicious torture - for both of them. When he reached the base, feeling the fullness of having Michael completely inside him, he rolled his hips gently, just enough to cause a loud groan in Michael that held him even tighter and pulled him closer against his dick. As if he was never deep enough.

And fuck, Alex agreed with him. It never seemed to be deep enough.

"The constellation has thirty-two stars ..." he murmured again as he started to move, slowly, smoothly.

"Alex ... fuck ..."

Lifting his own hips, trying to speed up the movements, Michael moaned as he tried to keep his eyes open so that he could look at Alex, refusing to lose the dazzling sight that boy was. Completely naked, with a line of sweat running down his neck until reach his navel even in the cold desert wind, his messy hair, his eyeliner a little smudged, his lips red and swollen from the kisses, and the way he was biting them right now. The movement in his waist as he rolled, using Michael's body, Michael's cock for his own pleasure.

Damn, if that wasn't the most beautiful sight in the entire universe, Michael didn't know what it was.

"Babe, please ..." he pleaded.

"The brightest star in Sagittarius is Kaus Australis ..."

He kept muttering with his voice cracking, and Michael couldn't understand how that could be so fucking sexy, but damn if it wasn't. Feeling Alex sunk in his cock taking him so deeply as he murmured about stars and constellations was by far the most sensual thing Michael had ever had in his life. And when he started to move faster and faster until he reached the rhythm where it was possible to hear the sound of his ass hitting Michael's thighs, they moaned wildly and Michael lifted his back until he sat down, his chest pressed against Alex's chest, his hands hugging his boyfriend's waist while Alex grabbed him by the shoulder, his other hand curling up in Michael's curls, pulling the hair on the back of his neck.

"... which is also the thirty-sixth brightest star in the sky ..."

He whispered against Michael's lips and it was the breaking point for both of them, their bodies convulsed and found the release they were looking for ...

"Stop ... just ... stop!"

Michael pleaded to himself tossing the bear far away angrily, then he propped his elbows against his knees, sinking his head between his hands. Those memories were the most precious things Michael had in his life, but they were also the most painful. Memories of a life he no longer had. Memories of a happiness which he was no longer allowed.

Of a body that he could no longer touch.

Of a mouth that he couldn't kiss anymore.

"Come back ... Lex ... please ..."

Sobbing, he pleaded, please, to any God who might exist, for Alex to return, to forgive him, to love him.

"... you are my brightest star, Michael."

#malex #malex fanfic #malex fic #malex angst #angst #stargazing #michael guerin #alex manes #roswellnm #constellations #English is not my native language #so please be kind with my mistakes

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unfortunatelysirius · 4 years

Text

Once Upon a Star | Sirius Black, Marauders’ Era

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

Sirius finds Y/N at the Astronomy Tower and she teaches him the muggle tradition of wishing on a shooting star.

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

anyone who doesn’t believe in me doesn’t deserve to know me and I've accepted that

SIRIUS USUALLY didn’t trail Hogwarts past curfew unless it was one of two things: one, he and his mates were looking to fulfill a prank; or two, he intended to sneak out through one of the secret passages. On this late and dreary occasion Sirius was sent to infiltrate the Ravenclaw common-room (the door’s riddle a trifle he’d probably turn red in the face tackling) to charm the boys’ stairs to solely turn to a slide when Ernie Mackett came down. Sirius had been personally spurred to enact vengeance by the asshat when he made that comment in Transfiguration earlier in the day— calling him a Pureblood reject that would, sooner or later, turn to the Dark Arts when being a runaway misfit didn’t feel fun anymore. Stupid Ravenclaw prat, who did he think he was? Sirius could still hear his annoying, weaselly voice…

No one found him funny and James charmed spitballs to projectile-launch at the back of his weasel head. Appreciated. Ernie deserved worse but in the moment, spitballs sticking to his military cut really took the edge off. Like was said… momentarily. Key word: momentarily. He was getting his reckoning in the morning when he’d go squealing down the slide like a toddler.

Not his greatest prank. Sirius could do better, much better, but he didn’t have many options without immediate expulsion. He was running it thin with Minnie; one step out of line and she’d probably send him packing the next day. The little things were good enough… for now.

Sirius had James’s Invisibility Cloak to be safe, though he did believe strongly in his stealth abilities. He walked up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, slower than his long legs were plenty capable of. He’d passed Peeves a while ago, kind of got nervous (pssh, not that he’d admit it) until Peeves was well away and not close enough to muck his motion-going plan up. Then he got here, so close to the prize. The Astronomy Tower was well-abandoned. It was almost… too easy to just walk right up the stairs, spend long enough to grow a gray hair on some dumb riddle, and waltz through the door.

Then he heard it. Humming. A soft voice, throat thrumming to a tune Sirius could hear but not recognize—pretty in an enticing way. It was well past curfew and Sirius didn’t expect to meet anyone on his way; why was anyone here? Truly, sincerely, this had to be a trick… Minnie could be the culprit and she’d be at the next window, pretending to pet a cat. Don’t be ridiculous, Minnie’s not a psychic…

It was a girl at the next window, just not one ashen with age.

She was sitting and staring out of the Tower’s open gap, touching her palm to the stone beside it. Instead of cutting off at the uvula and paranoia inciting a suspicious survey of the area, she continued her humming, the hum transitioning into an open mouth melody. Interesting. Weird, but interesting. Sirius raised his eyebrows and put a hand to his mouth, jerking the cough pounding at his gullet back in.

She brought her knees up and perched her chin on them, her back still turned to Sirius. Sirius closed his eyes and jerked them open, taking her backside in just one more time. Okay, fun was over—Sirius reluctantly tore his gaze away. He moved to be on his merry way to avenge his reputation against the slimy Ernie.

The humming cut abruptly off. He got a few steps in before a voice stopped him. “I know someone’s there… who is it?”

Sirius almost groaned. He snuck a peek over his shoulder through the cloak.

The girl wasn’t even a stranger or some power-hungry prefect who’d be deducting points from the idiot out after curfew. It was Y/N bloody L/N.

Sirius tore the cloak off himself without thinking it completely through. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” he whispered (for the sake of fact, whisper-shouted) and shuffled closer, mindful of the noise his feet made.

Y/N, shards of a moonbeam illuminating her face, turned away from staring out of the tower. She was dressed in what constituted as pajamas, a rumpled outfit more for lounging around in a dorm than being in direct fire from crisp December air. She smiled toothlessly when she caught Sirius’s hard gaze. “I come here to think and look at the stars. What are you doing here?”

Getting revenge, Sirius thought. Y/N wasn’t the violent type and the unlikeliest of people to ever hold a grudge; she wouldn’t take kindly to him proclaiming his intentions, dishonorable as they were. He tightened his grip on James’s Invisibly Cloak. “Would you believe me if I said I was taking a leisurely stroll?”

Y/N giggled, Sirius perking up at the sound; did that mean she believed him?

“Do you take me for an idiot?” she said incredulously, still giggling.

Sirius’s shoulders drooped. He bit back a groan. “Can we pretend you never saw me and go on as we were?”

Y/N blinked at him. She patted the empty spot where she previously had her legs, right in vantage of the sky and its children. “I have a better idea, Sirius. Come join me!”

Sirius’s eyes found the stone her bottom was plopped on, then where she was continuing to drum her fingers against. Sirius found her proposition odd and a little perplexing. “Are you serious?” he asked, raising his eyebrows—not that she could really see it.

Y/N nodded eagerly.

Sirius’s forehead cinched and he debated his options. Getting revenge on the arse that defamed him or sitting with a pretty girl and looking at the stars… he could go on and on about what was pro et contra. Ernie deserved humiliation at the highest setting, but Sirius was opportunistic; he knew he could think of a better prank tomorrow. Something that was bigger, better, smarter, and more mortifying. He could humble Ernie for the rest of their bloody time at Hogwarts, if he brewed on what would ruin him the most a little longer.

Y/N was nice to talk to. In the dark and feeling exhausted by his ire that had ran his ragged and thin over the last few hours, Sirius didn’t think deviating from his plans and sitting and staring at the stares was necessarily a bad thing.

Sirius shrugged and thought, What the hell?

Y/N’s smile was ear-to-ear when he sat down beside her.

“You know anything about constellations?” Y/N asked him.

Sirius shrugged again, bringing his thumb up to nibble on the edge of his fingernail. He was nervous, but that mostly came from having to sit still. It was a tough objective for someone with the mind motor of a motorcycle. “Not much.”

“You’re named after a star, though,” Y/N said. She touched his arm and guided him closer, using her free hand to point at a cluster of stars dotting the sky. Sirius squinted. “Tonight’s sky is just covered in stars. So many constellations. See that? That’s the Canis Major. There’s Sirius.”

The brightest star in the sky. Sirius didn’t know whether she was telling the truth or pulling a flirtatious fib.

He barked out a laugh. “Really?”

Y/N bobbed her head and flashed him a giant grin. “Really. I forget the rest of the names and where they’re located… I think one of them’s called Orion.”

Sirius was uninterested in his namesake and that of his prat father. “What’s so great about stars? They’re just stars.” He let his partner do all the work in fifth-year Astronomy for a reason.

“What? How can you say that?” Y/N gasped, like Sirius spoke blasphemy instead of an opinion. She shook her head and looped her arm around his, dragging him closer to the Tower gap. “The sky’s like a blanket of all these different colors. Even when there aren’t any stars you can keep making new discoveries. The sky’s blue, but not just blue; you can distinguish the navy from the little slivers of obsidian. It’s all just—”

“Alright, love, I get it,” Sirius said, defensively pulling his arm out of her loop. Her hopeful expression penetrated his defenses, though, and he cracked under the pressure. He exhaled a deep, frustrated sigh. “I’m not sentimental, okay? I don’t care about any of this.”

“I know, but I care,” Y/N said, something defiant in her stare.

Y/N turned to look back out, apparently in a bit of a tizzy, and Sirius bit back a retort. He didn’t have to be here; he could retreat back to his dorm under fire from his mates who expected Ernie’s comical wrath in the morning, aiming for a decent night’s sleep. Instead he let himself get roped into star-gazing, an activity he never envisioned himself participating in. This was just too… quiet. A serene atmosphere meant for patient souls, not misfits itching at the folds.

“I never said you couldn’t—” Sirius started before a loud gasp echoed in the Tower. Y/N’s hand reached out and swatted clumsily, hitting Sirius in the nose and the chest. Forgetting it was past curfew Sirius cried, “Ow! What the bloody hell?!”

“Look, Sirius, it’s a shooting star!” Y/N gasped, pointing excitedly out at a glimmer of light soaring through the sky. It was ethereal and dainty, faster than anything Sirius had ever seen. Y/N hit him again, lightly this time. “Quick, make a wish!”

“What—why would I do that?”

“Shooting stars have a magic of their own,” Y/N said to him in a haste. She closed her eyes then opened them again. A goofy smile went on her face. “You just think of something you want most in the world, and maybe the star will listen.”

Huh.

Sirius breathed a sigh as the star was nearly out of sight. He closed his eyes and let caution be thrown to the wind; whatever popped into his head first, he’d let that be his wish. As long as it satisfied Y/N. Regardless of how weird this was. It had to be a Muggle belief—he never heard of such a thing.

Acceptance. I want acceptance.

Sirius flinched. His eyes popped open and Y/N was already staring, breath hitched in anticipation. He rolled his shoulders and said, “I guess I did it.”

The shooting star had rocketed past their tiny hole in the Tower, leaving the sky a painting of asterisms.

Y/N giddily enveloped him in a hug. “See? Wasn’t that exciting?”

Sirius gazed down at her, feeling something new and abnormal in his stomach. A feeling he didn’t know the best word for, but a feeling that he accepted—like it was a welcome guest in what he claimed as his, just his territory. “Sure,” he said noncommittally.

Y/N buried her head in his chest.

Sirius thought back to his wish. Acceptance was the first word that popped into his head and one of the many things he found himself yearning for time and time again. He indeed got love and appreciation with James and his family, with most of his mates actually, but there was a lingering category of “acceptance” he failed to acknowledge through the years. He had refused to sit on it, thinking the very occupation as someone who could find and reciprocate love would forever be an impossibility. Unimaginable for someone like him that went years thinking he didn’t deserve anything at all.

Strangely, it felt different with Y/N.

Strangely, he felt accepted with her in his arms.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #young!sirius black #marauders' era #marauders era #marauders map #shooting star #astronomy #padfoot #sirius black fanfic #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter tumblr #Harry Potter x reader #I was listening to emotional music while I wrote this oops #sirius orion black

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leaderoflostboys · 3 years

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come away little light || closed

Irish Countryside, 1846, 9:30 pm

Peter alighted a poorly thatched roof of a farm and sighed. He had been aiming for the early 1990s, in hopes of finding Lion King bug pops to bring to Fauna, but had ended up somewhere so far from where he’d find those, that he’d spent most of the day wandering around. Ireland was always beautiful, but everyone seemed so sad here, moaning on about not having potatoes. He planned to try again tomorrow, and decided to take a rest on this rooftop for the night. The stars were all twinkling, and the brightest start to the left seemed to wink at him. He stretched out, arms tucked behind his head like a pillow, toes scratched by the rough thatching. His mouth became a cave as he yawned, bare chest rising and falling gently as he settled into sleep.

12:00 am

The siren of a child wailing woke Peter, and he opened one of his sore eyes at the start. He lay there waiting, hoping someone would tend to the child, but as it carried on, Pan sat up, straw poking out of his hair. Leaning back on his hands, he pushed himself to stand up, and walked the length of the roof casually. He leaned forward on the gable, head stuck out over the edge to see if any lamps were lit. When it was clear that the house was all dark, he dove forward silently into the air, and hovered outside the open window.

His eyes took only a moment to adjust to the darkness inside, and he could see a small bed containing a little lump of a child, and across the room from it, a cradle with the screeching babe. Peter stepped in through the ledge, down one step onto a small trunk situated by the window. He floated in coolly, and perched himself on the edge of the cradle in a squatting position, peering down at the reddening face of a child no more than two years of age, his face distorted in an uncomfortable cry. Pan cocked his head, and after glancing back over his shoulder to the other sleeping child, slowly rocked to the left, and then the right, picking up a gentle rhythm on the cradle. The babe quieted slightly, curious as to what was causing the movement, and peered down the cradle to see Peter, who gave a slight wiggle of his fingers as a hello. The boy watched Pan in rapt attention, eyes closing ever so slowly, the rocking pulling him back towards slumber.

“Oh my!” a quiet voice behind Peter made him start and nearly fall into the crib. The jerk made the baby’s wail begin again, and Peter hopped into the air and spun around to see a young girl sitting up in the center of her bed. “You--you can--” she started, and Peter crashed backwards against the wall, ducking behind the crib. “D-demon?” she cowered slightly, drawing her bedclothes up to her nose.

“No!” he choked, glancing at the open window, weighing his options. “Boy,” he said, pointing at his chest. “Flying boy,” he added, and to his delight, she lowered the blankets, an amused, curious smile playing about her lips. “Peter,” he added in introduction, standing up properly.

“Maureen,” said the little dark haired girl with a tilt of the head. “How do you do that?” she asked, and Peter took to gently rocking the cradle once more to silence the cries of the baby.

“I just push it from side to side,” he responded with a frown.

Maureen giggled and shook her head.

“No, the other thing. The flying.”

They always ask that.

“I’m really smart,” he flashed a pearly grin, cocking his head to the side. The girl laughed again, pushing her blankets off and climbing out of bed. As she walked towards him, Peter rounded the opposite side of the crib, not wanting Maureen to get too close.

“Are you magic?” Peter weighed the question for a moment before shaking his head.

“No, just clever,” he responded, now on the other side of the cradle; he was closest to the window now, and she closer to the door. He wondered if she would run out and tell her parents, but she just gave a small smile.

“What are you doing in my bedroom?” Maureen asked, a glint in her eye.

“I heard him crying,” he commented, pointing at the baby that was only whimpering now.

“Her. Ellen’s just hungry,” Maureen responded, looking down at the baby. “She’s always hungry.”

“We should get her some food then, right?”

The girl looked at Peter as though he were the most curious thing she’d ever seen, and he probably was.

“I can’t tell if I’m dreaming,” she said softly, circling the cradle again, and Peter wondered if they’d do this silly dance all night, or if she’d realize he didn’t want her to get too close. He had no intentions of bringing anyone to Neverland tonight. “Why do you move away from me?” Maureen asked, a slight lilt of hurt in her voice.

“I--” before Peter could answer, he stepped backwards onto sharp jack piece and crumpled to the ground cursing a pirate word and grabbing his foot. It set Ellen off crying again, and he hissed angrily before going still as a mouse. Maureen turned around to face the door, a hand on the cradle. Someone was coming up the stairs, and the curious, brave girl turned to Peter with a face as white as a Neverland ghost.

“Go. Go now. He’ll kill me if he thinks I’ve got a boy in here,” she said in a rush, and without a word, Peter was out the window in a flash. He stayed close; he didn’t want Maureen to get into too much trouble for his sake.

“You.” An angry, accusatory voice grunted from inside the window. Peter had his back to the side of the house, listening intently. “ ’Ow many times do I have to tell you.”

The man sounded like the layabouts that hung around Mulligan’s; drunk and brutish, looking for someone to fight. His blood began to boil in his veins when he heard a distinct kick of wood, and the baby gulped and swallowed a cry.

“Shut up, you.” He growled at Ellen, who was whimpering. Babies didn’t stop crying like that because of a kick to the cradle. Unless it’s happened before. Unless it already knows to give up. “And you. Wakin’ ‘er up. When yous knows we t’ain’t got nothin to give her. I could kill you fer that.” There was a resounding slap that could only come from a palm connecting with a face. “But I won’t do that. You know why? ‘Cause your mother’d wake up to ‘er firstborn dead and would lose that baby I put in her from the shock. An’ we don’t want that. Might be a boy.”

Peter really didn’t like this man; he felt his hand move instinctively to his dagger.

“You’re a right stain in my life, you know that? Sixteen an’ nothin’ but another mouth to feed. ‘Ad to take you in if I wanted your mother, didn’ I? I come in after workin’ all day, no dinner to speak of, no wife awake to lie in, only to hear you wakin’ up wee Ellen. Ah I could kill yeh. I could kill--” The voice stopped a moment, taking a step forward. “I’ll teach ye to torment your sister,” he stated with a finality that Peter despised, and Pan closed his eyes as the fury burned inside of him. The unmistakable sound of a belt sliding through cloth loops swished through the air. For a moment, Peter thought he might strike Maureen with it, but instead of buckle hitting flesh, it hit the floor.

Pan’s eyes whipped open; his blood that had been fuming suddenly ran cold, and his decision was made. He span in the air and stood in the window frame, his body blocking out the little moonlight that had come in, appearing just as the burly, drunken man had shoved Maureen down onto her small bed.

“Wha’? What is that? Get down from th--” Peter gave a dark grin at the man’s confusion, and relished the look of terror on his face as Pan floated forward. “Demon!” The brute cried, putting his hands up, keeping his eyes on Pan as he circled backwards, trying to get away from him. Peter kept on grinning, a twisted pleasure at the man’s fear rising up in his chest. “Get away from me!” He yelled, backing towards the window as Peter predicted in circling him, shepherding him to the window.

“I know what you were going to do, you nasty old man,” Peter spoke in a voice he saved especially for the damned. “I’ve seen your kind, crawling over my island. Boorish devils.” He said, corralling the man back to the open window. “Know what happen to boars that go mad?” he asked, a glint in his eyes as he raised his sharp dagger.

Maureen’s stepfather shook his drunken head, unable or unwilling to speak. The dark haired girl was in the corner of the room now, hands on either side of her head.

“We gut them!” Peter cried, raising his weapon above his head with both hands. He had no intention of sullying his blade. He knew what would happen next, and found it funny.

As predicted, in fear the man stepped back, tripping on the small trunk at the window, and tumbled out into the night. There was a distinct crack as the man’s neck folded into itself as his head connected with the ground outside.

Peter leaned out, watching the hulking, still shell of the brute for any signs of movement. He didn’t want to, but he wasn’t against stabbing if the blighter was still alive. Peter gave a satisfied nod, tossed his dagger in the air once, spinning it and catching it deftly before sheathing the blade. He turned to Maureen who was staring at him in mortified shock.

“Is he--” she started, taking a cautious step forward.

Peter nodded solemnly.

“Oh, Peter,” Maureen stepped closer towards the window. When she was nearly in front of it, Pan stuck his arm out to stop her.

“You don’t want to do that,” he said gently. The girl froze before turning into Peter’s chest, crying.

“Oh, it was awful,” she whimpered. Peter held her calmly, though every fiber of his being wanted to move away. Maureen clung desperately to Peter, her arms over his shoulders, sobbing heavily into him. “Oh-” she peeled herself off of him suddenly, fear welling in her eyes. “They’ll all think I killed him. And what’s mother going to do?”

Peter frowned at the change. He’d just helped get rid of a villain. What more could there be?

“I suppose I could work,” the girl continued, sniffling. “But then to leave her with Ellen and the new baby?”

“Don’t you have family here?” Peter asked. “And isn’t it better to have that man gone?”

“Fionn was terrible,” Maureen agreed, picking up Ellen and cuddling her close. “But he did provide us food and shelter. And took us in when father died.” She closed her eyes. “And no. It’s just me, mum, Ellen, and that little stranger inside of mother.” Maureen began to cry again into the soft hair on Ellen’s head.

Peter sighed inwardly before shaking himself.

“Can’t you just say someone came in and killed him?” he asked, irritation only somewhat masked.

“In my room? Why? No one would believe me.”

“Maybe someone hated him--”

“Everyone loves him. They’d all point the finger to me. It’s not like you came to steal anything and he happened to get in the way.”

Her words struck an idea inside of him. It wasn’t a new idea. He’d had it dozens of times.

“Come away with me.”

Maureen looked startled, but there was a longing in her deep, brown eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Come away and leave it all behind.” The girl looked thoughtful, but then shook her head.

“I can’t leave them,” she said ruefully, clutching Ellen close to her chest.

“Bring her too,” he told her, stepping closer. “We’ll have loads of adventures and you won’t have to explain to anyone.” There was an eagerness in his tone now. The seductive dulcet call that every sad and lost child bent to in the end.

“I can’t,” Maureen murmured again, this time raising a hand to her stomach. “This wasn’t the first time Fionn has come home drunk and angry.” She spoke softly, as though it were the first time she’d spoken of it aloud. “I can’t,” she repeated, and held Ellen out to Peter. “But she can.”

Peter’s head buzzed at the action, and he instinctively took the shy babe. He looked down at her, and then back to Maureen.

“Why?”

“If Ellen is gone too, it will look as though someone killed Fionn and took her. She will be safer with you.” Pan couldn’t process this, unsure that this was truly a good idea.

“What about you? Fionn’s gone.”

“There are always men like Fionn. And mother finds them. With you, she’ll be safe. And maybe one day...maybe one day you’ll bring her back. When I’m grown and out of this wretched house.

Peter held the little one close to his chest, the feeling so unfamiliar. He’d played at being father in the past, and treated his lost boys like a family. But never a lost girl so small. It could be an adventure, a small voice in his head spoke. He cocked a brow at Maureen, taking it all in, before giving a small nod.

“Okay,” he agreed, holding onto Ellen a bit more firmly. “Are you sure?” He asked, noting Maureen’s tear streaked face.

“Yes. Only,” she reached out, stroking Ellen’s pink face. “Only do come back with her.” Peter nodded. “In three years. Can you return in three years?” She asked, eyes welling with tears. “How can I contact you?”

Peter reached out, pulling Maureen into his side and brought her to the window (although, not close enough that she could peer down at Fionn’s shape).

“See that star? The bright one to the right of the moon,” he nodded to the sky. When she confirmed, he looked down at her. “Call to it at midnight. I’ll hear you,” Peter told her. Although this was a lie, he thought it a pretty lie, and he’d remember to come back when the little one was three years older. Probably.

After a tearful goodbye, and packing a small bag of Ellen’s things, Maureen watched Peter take off into the night with her sister. The girl dropped to her knees at the window, heart breaking.

It wasn’t until two nights later, after a day full of screaming from her mother; of having the police come around; after the wake where everyone in the village had come around to say goodbye to Fionn; after having to explain a hundred times over that she never saw who took Ellen, or who killed her stepfather, that Maureen felt a sinking regret.

She lay awake in the dark, listening to the clock ticking, waiting. At midnight, she sidled to the open window, clutched the frame and looked out at the stars.

“Peter. Bring her back. Oh God, bring her back.”

The air was cold, and the only movement in the firmament were the clouds rolling over the moon. Peter did not come back, and would not. For Neverland is for the lost ones. Neverland is for forgetting.

#woo okay hi #this is an explanation of why peter is bringing what he is bringing to neverland #closed #peter pan #tw abuse #tw death

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mrs-i-have-too-many-biases · 4 years

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Bang Chan// Sun and Moon (-light)// Chapter three

Summary: Sun and Moon, different from another, but both unmissable in the world. The sun is warm, it provides daylight. It represents life, strength and growth. The moon, the brightest and largest object in our night sky. It makes the earth more livable and represents admiration, change, mystery and feelings. The sun is untouchable and unreachable, but what if his ,independent, sun(-shine) becomes his world? Tropes: Enemies to Lovers Season: Spring Pairing: Bang Chan X Reader AU: | Delinquent!Female Reader | Vice President!Bang Chan | School!AU | Non!Idol AU | Genre: Fluff/ Angst Word Count: 7,5K Warnings: Themes of bullying, Themes of Abuse, swearing, insults, Requested: Yes (Reference) A/n: For the sake of the fiction, Chan is a twat in the story, but only for imagines purposes only. We all know better than that.

Y/n huffed impatiently as she waited for Chan to arrive finally. She laid her head on the table as the morning sun shined on her face through the windows. He had told her that he would’ve been a little later due to his training sessions, which obviously came with being the star athlete of the school.

She was munching away at the table she and Chan kept claiming every session. She had secretly sneaked some food into the library. The librarian, who knew Y/n by now quite well, let her however, without letting anyone else know of course. Y/n would’ve stayed at the 24-hour library to take a nap, away from home before she was close with Changbin. The librarian, better known as Adelaide. She was an elder lady who was very modernised. She had tattoos of her own that she would love to talk about with Y/n. She would often act like a grandmother to Y/n, something and someone Y/n never had. This was she got to experience that a little.

When Y/n heard a gasp she knew Chan had arrived, the smell of chlorine that filled her senses also giving it away. “Y/n! You can’t eat in the library!” Chan whisper yelled as he was about to snatch it away from her. “I can.” Y/n smirked as she kept on eating whilst looking Chan deadly in the eyes. “Don’t worry, Adelaide doesn’t care, when it comes to me at least.” “Why did she gave up on you already?” Chan joked, making Y/n roll her eyes.

“I came here to study, I also waited for you for an hour and I brought you snacks. So, instead of being a little twat, sit down and let’s do this. I could’ve been done already.” She sighed slightly in annoyance. “Alright, alright. But still I think it’s a little odd to eat here.” Chan mutters, yet still taking the pack of snacks form Y/n’s hands. “Adelaide will be find with it, unless it’s a complete dinner, that she doesn’t appreciate.”

After an hour, Y/n still couldn’t understand the exercise they had been discussing. “How can you still not get it! We’ve been over this already for the umpteenth time!” Chan cried out tiredly. He ran his hands through his now fuzzy hair. He looked like a madman and he blamed Y/n for it, because that what she did, she drove him mad. Especially right now.

“C’mon Y/n, we have class in ten minutes.” “You expect me to get this magically in the next ten minutes, even though we just spent an hour on this one thing.” “Alright, let’s continue this after school then. Because we have a test in a few days and you need to get a good grade.” Chan yawned. “Fine.” Y/n sighed as well as she started to pack up her stuff.

“When are you free?” Chan asked her. Y/n looked at him surprised whilst raising an eyebrow. “I thought I was the one who needed to adjust to your schedule?” She smirked turning his words against him, making him cringe in process. “Y/n I-“ “It doesn’t matter. Just tell me a date and a place.” “Tonight, your house-“ “Uh, rather not my house-“ “Then why did you-“ “Let’s just meet up here again, so that people will restrain me from ending myself, because this shit is getting on my nerves.” She said before walking out to her class.

Chan sighed to himself as the stupid words repeated themselves through his head. He regretted snarling those words to her the other day, but he tried to shake them off as he as well made his way to his class.

“I’m telling you Binnie, this next tattoo will be amazing! I already drew new designs for you!” Y/n said happily as she was on the phone with her best friend. Y/n was set outside once again, on the usual spot. The sun was warm and she was scribbling away in her notebook. “If you could actually tattoo than I would be fighting for my job right now, even Hyunjin talked about teaching you the ways of tattooing.” Bin chuckles. “I mean, I am an amazing artist, you should be quaking.” She laughed brightly.

What Y/n didn’t know was that Chan had been watching her, like a little creep. Well, not really, but he had been staring at her ever since she took place at the table outside. Chan saw how bright she was and how the sunlight complimented her skin. He felt his heart jump a little when he saw he smile again. He suddenly was overwhelmed with his feelings, especially when his friends dropped another joke of him having a crush on her. “No, I’m just wondering how she can lazy around when she should worry about her life.” Chan shot back. The words weren’t aimed towards him, but they stung into his chest.

Why did something inside tell him that he was ‘too good’ for her, that she was ‘below him’ and that he shouldn’t fall for someone like her. He started to argue with himself that he wouldn’t fall for her, but when he looked up to Y/n’s figure once again and saw her smile, his jumping heart tried to prove him otherwise.

In the meantime Y/n was still on the phone with Changbin. “Hey, Binnie, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out later? You could be my knight and safe me from my tutoring sessions.” “I mean you could go and use your new knowledge on your tutor-“ “I’m going to stop you right there for the sake of my sanity.” She groans as her friend laughed at his dirty joke. “No, but I guess I can be your rescuer and hang out with you.” Changbin said before he was cut off by her gasping. “I’m sorry Binnie! I forgot that he wanted to study some more in our free time.” She could hear her best friend pout through the phone. “Why do you play with my feelings like that? My producer buddy’s also gone, so you’re telling me that you’re leaving me behind to hang out all night with Hyunjin?” He cried out dramatically. “You would be working anyway. I’ll send you the drawings I made so you can redesign them.” “Fine, fine. But you owe me a complete date. Which means activities, you pay for dinner thank you for offering and cuddles, because I need your attention.” He muttered cutely. “Fine fine, except we’re probably splitting the bill, oh how smart of you Binnie!” She joked, using his tactics against him.

She heard him huff once again before they exchanged their goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Hours passed and Y/n was back at it again with Chan. She magically got her to understand the exercise, they had trouble with before, within fifteen minutes.

“Thank God, because I was going to lose my last braincells due to your stupidity.” Chan joked before getting a notebook thrown to his head.

The two decided after having some banter and studying the session for the next morning in advance, so they could sleep in before school for once after a long time.

It would be nine o’clock when the two started to lose motivation and focus. “Someone’s hungry.” She joked when she heard Chan’s stomach grumble. “No shit, we’ve been in here for hours and your crisps aren’t that filling you know.” “You twat, be glad I brought you some food or I would’ve left you here to starve.” Chan chuckled at her grumpy state and shook his head in amusement.

“Alright Gym Rat, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving as well.”

“Gym rat?” He asked while laughing, taken aback by the sudden nickname. “Yeah, you’re buff as fuck. Now pack up so we can go and eat, or else I’m leaving you here.” Chan was shocked by her words as she stood up and left to wait outside for him.

He was surprised that she noticed and almost complimented his body, but he just told himself that she must’ve assumed what his body looked like through others’ whispers. Or did she actually watch his competitions? So many questions, yet so little answers.

“So, where do you want to go.” Expecting a name of a restaurant being spilled from Y/n’s lips, Chan was yet again to be surprised. “There’s a convenience store not far from here, let’s go there.” Chan was used to girls picking out expensive restaurants whenever they were with him, expecting him to pay since they knew he was too nice and rather wealthy.

When they walked into the store, it wasn’t very crowded. Y/n told him that she liked to come here since people usually liked to go to convenience stores near the river. This store was particularly cute and aesthetically pleasing, it would be a great place for Instagram photos, yet no one seemed to know of it, since it was hidden behind the tall and modern buildings of Seoul.

Y/n would grab a basket and throw many kinds of food in. Two packs of instant noodles, two fried chicken breasts, some 떡볶이 (‘Tteokkbokki’: Spicy rice cakes) that the two of them could share and lastly some beverages. She surprised him even more when she paid for all of it. She went to prepare the food as Chan went to look for a spot and to keep an eye on all their stuff.

He looked around and took the scenery in. It was quite pleasing to the eye and he had to admit that he almost never came into a convenience store. He usually got all his food from at home. Or there would be someone who would get the food for him and his family. He was quite spoiled, but he was aware of it, so it wasn’t that bad, right?

Within ten minutes Chan had devoured the food and was left with only the delicious aftertaste on his tongue and a filled belly. He sat back in his chair as he munched on the rice cakes as he watched Y/n eat elegantly. Compared to Chan, she actually looked like she was enjoying the food, doing little dances after each bite or sip from her drink. He thought it was cute and smiled a little to himself.

The nice lady who owned the store came up to the two and smiled kindly as she gave them ‘service’, which basically mean they get free food ‘on the house’. “It’s nice to see you again Y/n.” She added before walking off again. Chan stared at her, making Y/n burst out in laughter. “I basically live here.” She explained playfully, but shortly before eating again. “It seems like you live everywhere else but at home.” Chan joked, making Y/n stop for a split second to process the comment. She knew he was right, but she didn’t wanted to admit it. So she just forced out a chuckle before eating again, this time avoiding his gaze.

Chan felt the air thickening as soon as the joke slipped out and he felt and physically saw that she got uncomfortable. He felt a pang in his chest, which was guilt that spread through his veins. Y/n noticed Chan tensing up as well. She contemplated if she wanted to tell him about her home situation, but she didn’t. She didn’t tell Changbin until they had known each other for months. Yes, she knew Chan for ages, but did she though? They never spend time together until these past weeks and those meet ups were forced.

She didn’t notice Chan standing up, but jumped in shock when he suddenly sat back down. He held two ice creams in his hand and handed one to her. It was his turn to jump in shock when he heard Y/n gasp and squeal in excitement as she took the ice cream from his hands. She stared at it for a good ten seconds with big sparkly eyes before ripping the paper off it and eating it.

“You must really love ice cream.” Chan laughed in disbelief at her sudden change of behaviour, which relieved him. “This is my absolute favourite ice cream.” She said in between licks. “Really?” “Yes! I thought they stopped selling these, because I haven’t seen them in ages! Thank you, by the way.” She said in a whisper. “Shouldn’t I be thanking you? You literally paid for everything.” “I mean, you’re the one helping me out. Even though I know you don’t really want to and this is all forced onto you, it’s really the least I could do. I would love to treat you in a real restaurant, but I simply don’t have the money for that.” She admitted in embarrassment. She really wanted to show her gratitude, but if only she had a little more money. The money she made at Tattoo Parlour.

“No, no! It’s okay, really. Please don’t feel bad. I really enjoyed the food. It was honestly one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. It’s simply but very tasty.” Chan assured her quickly. “Oh please-“ “No, really! I mean, noodles, everyone loves them. Caviar, please.” Chan scoffed making her smile. “Thanks.”

There was a short period of silence as the two avoided each other’s gazes. “Chan?” “Yes?” “Do you find me intimidating?” She suddenly asks. “Why are you asking?” “Why are you avoiding answering my ask?” She smirked slightly, but then soon sighed, because she was already aware of the answer that was about to come out of his mouth, which was ‘yes’.

“Am I actually that intimidating?” “Well, you usually show up in bruises, cuts and other types of wounds. You wear black all the time, you don’t really interact with people and you’re quite mysterious.” “Well, seems like I did caught your eye.” She joked, but she had no idea how hard Chan’s heart was pounding.

“I don’t feel like I’m intimidating though. I’m just, I don’t know, protecting myself.” She admitted as she rested her head on her hand, whilst looking at the guy in front of her. “Protecting yourself from what?” Chan asks, genuinely worried. “I don’t know, people, I guess. It’s the way I look, dress, apparently behave and have behaved in the past that makes people think certain things of you. People assume I’m a bad kid, because I have scars and wounds all over my body, that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’ve beaten up a random kid.” She huffed in slight frustration.

“What are the bruises from then?” Chan asked carefully. “I kickbox and practice Taekwondo in my free time. I don’t really like using harnesses or gloves for kickboxing.” Which wasn’t half of a lie. “That honestly explains quite a lot.” Chan mutters as he felt guilty for prejudicing her. “It’s one of the simple reasons why teacher don’t like me, my appearance I mean. And the shit I did in my pass apparently is permanently burned into their mind, since it’s in my ‘permanent record’. I guess I can’t change their view and thoughts on me.” “Yes, you can and you will with the upcoming test. You’re going to show them that you got this, which you actually do. You understand almost everything perfectly. At some exercises you didn’t even needed me.” Chan encourages, softening Y/n’s heart for him.

Only Changbin, plus his parents, have been encouraging towards her for the past years. It was nice to have someone else to add to that list.

“I just wish some people took some courage or something to get to know me, you know? I really am not that bad, or well I at least hope I’m not.” She sighs and Chan pitied her.

“Then I would like to get to know you, or at least better.” Chan’s words surprised himself as they had the same effect on Y/n. “What-“ “Let’s get to know each other, in the mean time I can change your mind that I’m not a snobby rich kid.” “I never-“ “I know, but that’s what most people think of me when they hear my name: rich, athletic and probably handsome.” He joked smugly as she scoffed out a laughter. “No one says that pretty boy.” “Yet here you are!” He laughed along.

“Well, if you want to get to know me better, then meet me at third period at the ‘Stray Café, tomorrow.” She leaned forward to set the seriousness in her tone, as he gulped loudly at her sudden confidence that she gained out of nowhere. “I have class third period.” He mutters. “If you really want to get to know me, then I’ll see you tomorrow third period Channie.” She winked before standing up to leave.

Chan didn’t know what messed him up more. The fact that she asked him to skip tomorrow, her confidence, the wink or the nickname he used to be annoyed at.

He turned around to see her looking at him one last time, sending him a smile and yet another wink, before stepping out the store.

She sighed whilst shaking her head in amusement, she wanted to see how true Chan was to his words.

The next morning, after the both of them had their test first period, Y/n went straight to the café to clear her mind. The cup of tea in her hand spread warmth from her fingertips to the rest of her body as she enjoyed the spring scenery that was laid in front of her eyes behind the other side of the window.

Third period almost began and she wasn’t anticipating that Chan would actually show up to the café. But to her surprise she heard the bell indicated that a customer had walked into the store, in reflex she turned her head to see what was going on to see a familiar figure walking in.

Chan had changed out of his ‘school’ clothes and wore a leather jacket, a sweater and ripped jeans. Y/n was speechless to see him like that, being used to see him in plane shirts and black hoodies. She kept staring at him as he sat down in front of her, not bothering to exchange the greeting Chan just said to her.

“Earth to Y/n-“ Chan had waved his hand in front of her face, making her snap out of her trance before she cut him off. “You’re actually here?” She stuttered in utter shock. “Yes, I meant what I said. So let’s get to know each other.” He smiled brightly. When she did this trick with Changbin, he showed up as well and she was overjoyed, because she felt like he really wanted to give her a shot at getting to know each other. Yet, all she could feel right now was worrisome.

“Are you sure you want to be here? What about your reputation? You will get thrown off as vice president and I will get the blame-“ “Don’t worry. That’s my responsibility. Besides, you said you wanted to talk, so let’s talk.” He smirked at her flustered state.

“How was your day?” Chan asks, trying to make the girl across him make herself feel at ease with him. But she was still too in shock of his presence and only manages to squeak out a ‘hngg’, making Chan laugh. “So the test went bad?” “No, I aced that- thanks to you though.” She giggled, slowly feeling more comfortable around him. Usually, skipping wasn’t that big of a deal for her, but skipping with her vice president, hit her a little different.

The two would be chatting away, Chan told Y/n about his childhood in Australia and how he used to fly back and fort a lot to keep in touch with his friends and family. He told her about his dog, Berry, who he loved very much. He ranted about a crazy story where he and his dog would go on adventures as young kids, they would go swimming together in a lake near by his house in Australia and play together.

“…I sure do miss it there. It’s a lot warmer over there.” He chuckled. “I bet, but I think that the summers here in Korea are more pleasant.” “They definitely are, here I’m not worried that my eyebrows will scorch any second.” He joked, making her burst out in laughter, picturing an eyebrow-less Chan in her mind.

Their banter was interrupted by a young-looking waitress who Y/n had noticed staring at them. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but wonder if you were that famous swimmer? Chan was his name?” She asked whilst twirling her hair around her finger, causing Y/n to force her throw up back down her throat. “N-no, I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else.” Chan tried to convince her, but she was still suspicious about him.

“We should go.” Y/n whispers, they set down a generous amount of money on the table before they left the café. Y/n looked down her arm as Chan dragged her around town, to wherever he was going. His hand had a secure grasp on her wrist.

‘I thought I was the one who asked him to come here, if only people could see him dragging me around like this, they would lose their minds.’ Y/n thought to herself and snickered slightly.

“Okay, so what would you like to do?” Chan asks. “What, you’re not going back to school?” She asked him, thinking he would return for fourth period. “Well, are you?” “No, but-“ “Then let’s go!” Chan cheered.

“What are places you love to go to?” Chan asks her as they sat in the park together, playing twenty-one questions.

“I love going to the park, so props to you, you chose a great spot as well. But I think one of my favourite places to be at all times would be at the beach in Busan.” “Really?” Chan asks. “I used to live there. We also owned this small beach house at the end of the beach where it was pretty much abandoned. My mother used to take me there all the time.” “She doesn’t do it anymore?” Chan asks her without thinking too much of it.” “No, she passed away about two years ago.” Y/n whispers sadly whilst looking down at her feet, resting her head on her knees, that were pressed to her chest in process as well.

Chan felt like an idiot for asking her such dumb questions lately and started to apologise rapidly. “It’s okay, you couldn’t have known.” She assured him with a soft smile, making his heart do weird things in his chest.

“I hate to do this right now, but I have an meeting in thirty minutes which I really need to attend as vice president.” Chan mutters convicted. “That’s fine, I can go back with you to school. I’ll hang out at misses Yu’s music room, since my classes are over anyway.” Y/n offers as she got up. “What do you mean?” “My classes ended after third period.” Y/n smirked. “You’re saying that-“ “I only skipped one period, yes. Yes I did.” She giggled before she started to walk ahead.

When the two had sneaked back into the school, Y/n had disappeared to the empty music room and Chan made his way to his meeting. “Chan! Where’ve you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!” Jisung pants as he came towards him running with Felix on his side. “I wasn’t feeling too well, so I went away for a bit.” Chan lied. “Without saying anything?” Felix asked in confusion. “Yeah, sorry about that but I really didn’t feel too good, I went to the hospital.” Chan added to the lie. “Was it that bad?” Chan would only hum in respond this time. “What did the doctor say?” Jisung asks. “That I was overworked-“ “Doesn’t surprise me.” Jisung laughed, but in the meantime, Felix was a little suspicious of his friend.

“Dumpling!” Changbin exclaimed happily when Y/n walked through the door of his apartment. He tackled her in a hug and the both ended up falling to the ground. “Well hello to you too Binnie.” She giggled whilst hugging him back.

The two would talk about their day, Y/n didn’t wanted Changbin to know about her little skipping-date with Chan just yet, because she wanted to see first from Chan’s side how committed her was to getting to know her. And besides that, she knew her best friend would become whiny and jealous whenever she talked about someone other than him.

“I have some good news!” Changbin chirped as the two fell down on the big sofa in the living area. “What is it?” She asked with big eye of expectation whilst drinking her tea. “My cousin is getting married!” “Your cousin from Japan?” She asked him excitedly and started to squeal happily when her best friend nodded in responds.

The two had bet since his cousin started to date this beautiful Japanese woman, who he was too scared of confessing his love to. The two would watch and listen to the whole journey as if it was a tv soap, feeling very involved into the journey as they heard his mother talk to her sister on the phone about Changbin’s cousin. And now finally after years of him going after this girl, and dating her for two years, they finally are getting married.

“When is the wedding?” Y/n asks with still ecstatic and glister to be found in her eyes, whilst Changbin’s dropped. “It’s in two weeks.” Changbin states, making Y/n sit back in shock. “Wow, he got that wedding arranged fast.” “He’s rich and he couldn’t wait to be married to the love of his life, those things can make a lot happen.” Changbin chuckled, still in disbelief of his cousin’s actions. “Well, when are you leaving to Japan?” She asks him, not feeling the tension surrounding them. “That’s the thing, because my cousin is rich and because he hasn’t seen us, and the rest of the family in a long time, he had invited us over to stay there for a month in Japan-“ “A month!” Y/n exclaimed. “I know, it’s a long time.” “When are you leaving?” She asked carefully, thinking that she could maybe book a cheap hotel to stay away from home, but she might need to safe up for it. “In two days.” He whispers, making Y/n’s world turn upside down.

She could feel herself panic a little. She had no money to stay somewhere else. Changbin wouldn’t be there by her side to comfort her, he wouldn’t be there to take care of her and he was used to his presents after two years of being best friends together, she didn’t know how to miss him.

“I know what you’re thinking and don’t worry. First take a deep breath, I don’t want you hyperventilating.” He chuckled slightly as he scooted a little closer to bring her into his muscular arms.

“I talked to my parents and they also didn’t wanted you to be back ‘home’, so we decided to let you stay here. We’ll give you a spare key and since you know the area and the passcode to the apartment it would be fine-“ “I can’t do that, that’s too much.” “Y/n, please take the offer. I would feel horrible at the fact that we couldn’t have let you stay here where it is safe. I don’t want you to be hurt, okay? This way I can sleep soundly when I’m away from you.” Changbin explained as he brushed his hand through Y/n’s hair. “I-“ “When you’re coming here, take a different route to it every day. Just to be safe. We both know what your father is capable of. If you have to be ‘home’, only do it in the morning. When you leave that place it would be in daylight and I feel like people do less fucked up thing when people could actually see them happening.” Changbin sighed as he hugged her a little tighter.

“Thank you, Binnie.” She softly sobbed into his shoulder, feeling very grateful and blessed to have such a great friend like him in her life. It gave her the feeling that life was worth living for just a little bit, because people like Changbin restored her faith in humanity inside of her.

Later that afternoon the two went out for dinner, that the both argued to pay for, which Changbin shot the ‘with what money’ whenever she stated to pay for all of it. He would, as usual, burst into laughter and receive a pouty sulk from his best friend, who then would take a sad bite of the pizza.

The pair would laugh and have a great time together. They would talk about new tattoo projects, music lyrics and melody inspiration ideas. “I swear! Crunch up some old leaves this fall and make a remix of it! It could become a hit!” She said in a serious tone, but Changbin could only laugh at her wild and creative ideas. “I don’t know where you get them from, but I surely do love them.” He said as he tried to catch his breath after his fit of laughter.

Later they would walk back to Changbin’s apartment, chatting and laughing away as usual, until Changbin received a phone call from someone named ‘Yongbokkie’. Y/n had never heard of him, but shrugged if off since it was none of her business anyway.

“…no I’m already out. Yeah, I’m with someone already. Maybe next time I’m around. I’ll be gone for a while since we’re going to Japan. I’ll see you then when I’m back. Bye!” She heard her best friend say before hung up and made the device disappear into his pocket.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” She asked him. “Nope, you have all my attention.” He grinned before entering the apartment complex to play some video games in is room.

“Binnie?” Y/n later that evening asked. “Yes?” He responds, whilst his eyes are still glued on the game they were playing together, or well he was at least. Y/n died in the first ten minutes.

“Do you feel like I keep you away from others?” The sadness in her tone got his attention and deliberately let his character die, so he could talk with his best friend. “Where is that question suddenly coming from?” He asked her, now facing her. “I don’t know, you always make time for me. It makes me wonder if you think that I’m clingy or something. That I keep you busy or away from other people who you want to hang out with.” “Let me tell you something. That’s not true at all. I want to be around you. You’re my best friend! I love being around you. You haven’t heard this from me, but I think I am a little whipped for you.” He whispered with a smug smile, making her burst out in laughter.

“I love being around you too.” She mutters whilst hugging him tiredly. “Good, because now. Stop sucking at this game and let’s kick someone’s ass!”

Days passed by quicker than Y/n wanted them to.

Right now she was at the airport to send her best friend off to Japan. They had been clinging onto each other like koalas, making his parents and his sister chuckle at their cuteness.

Y/n wanted to be around him as much as she could, before she had to survive a whole month without Changbin, in Changbin’s apartment. How crazy is that?

“I’m going to miss you.” She sighed sadly as she hugged him, it almost being time for him to board his plane. “I’m just a sea away. You can call me whenever. Especially since Hyunjin is probably going to hire temporary staff. You need to keep me updated on those, there’s always some kind of tea to spill when it comes to those.” Changbin laughed to lift the mood.

As they hugged their goodbyes for the last time, Changbin would disappear with his family in the crowd and Y/n would make her way back to the apartment, riding a cab home.

When she walked in, she felt weird of not having some kind of living presence in her best friend’s place she was so used to. Y/n decided to clean up a little before she made herself at home. She was going to live there for a month after all. She still couldn’t thank his parents, and Changbin himself of course, for entrusting her to stay at their home.

Two and a half hours later she received a videocall from Changbin, to tell that they had arrived safely. “I was sat next to this older man and he smelled so bad. I wanted to throw myself out of the plane.” Changbin whined, making his best friend laugh. “Are you laughing at my agony?” He asked ‘hurt’. “Always.” She joked, making him gasp dramatically.

“What are you doing later?” “I have another tutoring session.” Y/n sighed. “Well shit, that guy really has you busy every day, huh?” “Tell me about it.” “And besides that? Or don’t you know yet?” Changbin asked. “Probably, playing around on your keyboard, but that’s it. I cleaned up a little already.” “You know we already did that earlier, right?” “I know, but I usually am already a mess so I got to clean that shit up.” She joked making Changbin burst out in laughter.

“I got to go for now. I will call you later tonight, okay?” “That’s fine. Have fun there! By the way, say hi to your cousin for me!” “Will do! Bye Dumpling!” “Bye Binnie!”

To say that Y/n was bored out of her mind without Changbin was an understatement. She could die from boresome right now. She wondered how she used to survive without Changbin in her life. She missed his stupid dad jokes and his teasing insults.

She played around on his keyboard for a while, but failed to be motivated at it, so she decided to clean up the little mess Changbin had left behind on his desk.

There were papers laying everywhere and she thought it would be nice of her to organise them for when he comes back. Most of them being music sheets and lyrics scrabbles randomly on multiple papers, were probably needed and used in the future.

“’Wow’?” Y/n muttered to herself as she came across a paper with lyrics written on it. She chuckled to herself at the text and quickly put it away before she lost more braincells to the madness she called Changbin’s mess that turned out to be a lot more work than she anticipated it to be.

It did help her to pass time though. Before she knew it, she was back at it again in the library, waiting for Chan to arrive. When he did, he smelled like chlorine again, indicating that he just came back from the pool. “Sorry, I’m late again.” He mutters tiredly. “It’s okay, did you had to dodge your little fans again?” She joked, he only shot her a fake smile before diving into the books with her.

The two were both tired and the motivation was faint. Y/n was throwing little paper balls to his head to amuse herself. When he sighed and went to play the game along with her, they started to laugh together and forget about their tutoring session. As they played, they tried to catch each other’s crumbled papers in the air and Y/n had to keep in mind that her arms were badly bruised and that her hoodie, which was actually Changbin’s, had to stay in place.

Chan had a feeling that he knew the hoodie, as Y/n fumbled with the fabric.

‘It’s from a store smartass, multiple people could have bought it.’ He said to himself, before brushing the subject of his mind.

In the end, the two got hungry again during their tutoring session and decided to skip it for today and go out to eat again at the convenience store. This time, Chan was the one to grab a basket and told Y/n to pick out a spot. This time she went outside, since it was nice and warm and she wanted to watch the sunset.

When Chan returned with a tray full of food, the two started to eat. Whilst doing so, Y/n had noticed the change in Chan’s behaviour.

‘Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.’

It started Monday at school. The two would cross each other in the hallways smiling, waving and even greeting each other whenever they saw the other. Chan had noticed as well that Y/n seemed to have gotten less into trouble. Which he honestly was glad about, he was tired of scolding her.

Little did Chan know it was because Y/n didn’t had to face her father all day and got to stay at Changbin’s luxurious apartment.

The teachers were praising Chan for his ‘accomplishments’ on toning her down and how he was such a great helper. Y/n seemed to be slowly passing her classes thanks to him. Which he of course was glad about, but he wasn’t listening at all when the adults were talking to him. He was trying to figure out with himself how he could spend extra time with her. He had to admit to himself that he liked being around her. She was very easy going and nice to talk to. She also has a lovely appearance to look at, so Chan wasn’t complaining about his tutoring sessions, anymore.

It was now Wednesday and Chan had sneaked out of his classroom, claiming he had to be somewhere, before he made his way to Y/n’s classroom, which was packed. When he stepped into the room, all eyes were on his. Including Y/n’s, who looked at him confused. “Can I steal Y/n for a moment?” Chan asked the teacher politely, which was an older woman who was smitten for Chan to be honest. And she of course let him. “What’s up?” Y/n asks him when she stood with him alone in the hallways. “Can we meet up after my swim session?” Chan asks, which got her bamboozled.

Was that why he picked her out of class? Couldn’t he had texted her- no he couldn’t they hadn’t exchanged numbers yet, somehow.

“Yeah sure.” She said unsure of his weirdly behaviour. She had her hand rested on the doorknob, the door slightly open as Chan said: “I’ll see you later then.” A slight smirk laid on his lips before he walked off again.

Little did the two know that the whole class heard Chan say that he will see her later. Everyone started to suspect the relationship between the two, which wasn’t in existent, except a platonic one. Sooyun, who was also in Y/n’s current class was fuming with anger.

‘Why would her Channie see her later?’

She didn’t think that they would become that close, since she heard the ‘rumour’, which eventually turned out to be the truth, that Chan was tutoring Y/n in her free time. She felt jealous that Chan made more time for that ‘tramp’ instead of her.

‘That’s why he hasn’t come for dinner.’ Sooyun mutters to herself before she huffs once again and started to glare at Y/n, whilst thinking of a plan to win her man back. When the school bell rang, she got it.

She walked up to the teacher with big eyes and a pout on her lips. “Miss, I’m having a lot of trouble with these past chapters lately…”

Y/n fumbled with her fingers as she made her way to the school’s public pool. The smell of chlorine filled her senses, making her eyes water a little as she entered the pool area. There were multiple people swimming swiftly, racing against each other.

She could spot Chan almost immediately. His shoulders were broader than the other’s and his skin was the palest out of all of them. She decided to watch them as they finished edge near her feet. Chan took his goggles off and looked up to her with a bright smile. “You came!” Chan chirped before pushing himself up on the edge of the pool. Her eyes couldn’t help but wander off his figure. His muscular figure caught a lot of eyes, they always said. And now Y/n knew why. His toned chest and abs were almost in her face, making it hard for her not to look down at just shamelessly stare at them.

Chan knew what he was doing and what kind of affect it, usually, had on people, most of them being girls. Y/n played it cool and acted unbothered, which surprised Chan. Most people would flirt a little or at least be flustered, yet here she was, acting like it was nothing to her.

“You wanted to talk about something?” She asks.

He was yet again surprised by her reaction. He started to stutter like he did many times before at her confidence. Felix oversaw the whole thing. He saw how his friend got flustered and started to act like a fool. When Chan had walked away from Y/n, Felix asked him what that was all about.

“I’m hanging out with her.” Was all that Chan would say to his friend before quickly hopping into the showers.

“You suck!” Y/n yelled in victory as she smashed Chan’s ass at the game, they were playing in the Internet café where they were sat. “You’re so good at this what the hell.” Chan exclaimed in shock, whilst Y/n proudly flipped her hair off her shoulder, making Chan laugh along. “My bestie taught would be proud.” “Did she teach you?” “Yes, he taught me well.” She giggled when Chan’s face stiffened in embarrassment. “Sorry I assumed-“ “It’s okay. Do you dare to go for another round?” “Oh! Watch me!” Chan said confident before picking up the controller again.

“Oh stop sulking.” Y/n teases as Chan paid for their food. “I can’t believe you beat me. I’m usually a pro when I play with my friends.” Chan whined. “Well, that just means they suck more at the game than you already do.” She giggled whilst sticking her tongue playfully out to him.

The two would sit across each other in silence for a while as they ate their ice cream.

“You know, I don’t know about you, but this kind of felt like a date to me. And I know that it probably isn’t, I just wanted to say that it does feel like one, or at least I think so.” Y/n chuckled. “You think so? Or you know so?” “What?” “If this feels like a date or not?” Chan explained. “Oh, I think so. I honestly have never been on a date before.” She admitted softly in embarrassment.

“Really?” Chan asked genuinely surprised. Y/n only shook her head in responds to confirm her own statement. “Well, then I will take the responsibly to take you out on an official date. Just as friends though, but I will give you the ‘real’ experience.” Chan’s mouth spoke for him before his brain could process it. He felt his heart speed up and his hands sweat.

“I beg your pardon?” “Let me take you out, so you can have the actual experience. What do you have to lose?” Chan grinned as he looked at the flustered girl in front of him. “Alight, but under one condition.” “Which is?” “No kissing.” “Fine by me.” Chan winked whilst still grinning.

The night ended happy and Y/n made her way home with a grin stuck on her face. She walked an extra long route so she could enjoy the fresh air and the lingering feeling of happiness a little longer, but that soon was to be spoiled when a heavy familiar voice boomed through the streets and called out her name.

She sighed and grasped herself to get ready for what was coming next. Which she sadly knew all too well.

Gif Isn’t mine.

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jjbakaloskaiagathos · 4 years

Text

❕Before reading, please, check the previous Sophie’s chapter 💜

Nirvana and Purple Haze Part 1 🔮

In the previous chapter:

- We need to take Panacotta hostage and get rid of the girl. Before that, I want to see how she can sob when I will tear her clothes.

Smiling at each other, the men raised their glasses and drank.

Chapter 3:

Stand name: [Nirvana]

Stand master: Carina

Ability: reading the future of a given person. Carina will be able to use Nirvana, if she knows the full name, birthdate and appearance. The girl makes reading because of a television but she can read only three future hours. Carina may tell a certain person his/her future, but the prediction will always change for a better or worse side.

When Carina left the mansion, she met cool night air. Stars were shining on the dark blue sky but the brightest one was the Venus as always.

- The first star which you can see isn’t a star. It’s the whole planet. It’s interesting I thought that my companion was a simple guest but he turned out to be the Mafia Boss, - thought the girl, heading Fugo who waited for her.

The young man was standing in front of her, his head down. Nervous knocking of his finger spoke about that the waiting pissed off him.

- I’m sorry, I lost you! - apologized Carina.

- Get in the car, - said Fugo shortly, seating.

Carina sat next to him and said her address. Perhaps, she needed to make a conversation to comfort Fugo and “cut” their time but the girl, seeing Fugo face, refused this idea. Carina turned her head to the window and dreamt about the trip to end quickly.

When the landscape seemed familiar, Carina felt relieved. However, Fugo changed his direction, making Carina to worry a bit. She took an interrogative glance at driver but he did not even look at her.

- I’m sorry but my home in another neighbourhood.

There was no answer.

- Do you hear me?

Carina was going to touch the man’s shoulder to draw his attention but Fugo left her movement unfinished, seriously saying:

- I think that we are chased. Most likely, I’m his target but they don’t need to know where is your home located, otherwise you will have problems too.

Hearing this, Carina turned her head and noticed that they were definitely chased by the car. The driver kept a distance that is why the car did not arouse suspicion.

- What do they want?

- I don’t know. But I will solve this problem.

- I have a bad feeling.

- Don’t panic, okay? Sit still and don't bother me, - commanded Fugo, without taking his eyes off the road.

- Your name is Pannacotta Fugo, isn’t it?

The question was so surprising that is why it was the first time Fugo even looked at Carina.

- How do you..., - started Fugo, remembering that he did not say his name.

- So, I found out something too, - answered Carina mysteriously, looking into her companion's eyes.

He tried to analyze the girl’s facial expression and understand her main aims. His violet eyes like X-ray wanted to know Carina's thoughts.

- Listen, I know that you have no reasons to trust me but I want to help you. I can help if you answer my questions.

Fugo was silent, obviously, making a decision: can he trust this girl? Finally, he asked:

- What are your questions?

- Well, the first question: do you have a TV here?

- What the hell are you talking about?! - exclaimed Fugo, losing his temper.

- I’m being serious. The car is expensive and I suppose you have a TV here. Is it built into seats? - asked Carina, talking with a soft voice.

It was effective because Fugo shook his head approvingly.

- Okay, thank you, - replied Carina with a smile.

After those words, the girl set up in the back seats. Fugo looked at her with astonishment but he did not want to mess around her. Carina turned on the TV.

- Well, the second question: tell me your date of birth.

Of course, that question was so strange but the young man answered.

After getting all the information she needed, Carina called up her Stand [Nirvana]. At that moment, a humanoid woman with large curving horns sat next to her. Her body seemed to be made of glass where in a dark blue fluid all kinds of constellations were swimming. [Nirvana] helps Carina tune the right channel on TV to see the future of a certain person.

- Are you a Stand user too? - asked Fugo quietly.

- If you call it like that, - Carina answered without taking her eyes off the screen.

She kept in her mind all the significant information about Fugo: his full name, his date of birth and his appearance. Finally, the screen showed the terrible future: the guy is lying on the road and his body was mutilated with bloody marks from numerous shots. Somewhere in the distance a woman’s scream is heard. Carina recognized in it her own voice. She turned off the TV and took a deep breath.

- You’re pale. What has happened? - asked Fugo.

- Listen, everything can be so bad. Do you believe in luck?

The young man was silent for a minute and then he replied:

- I work with Giorno that’s why I believe in.

- If I tell you your future, it can change for the better or for the worse. I don’t know what can be worse but you will be killed.

- Who will do it? Whan do they want?

- These people... seemed familiar to me. Yes, we saw them upstairs. They were very friendly with you and then I asked them where were you. Apparently, these two were following you already; they wanted to take you hostage but something went wrong. I guess they needed special information.

- I think I understand. Did they wear a blue and a black jackets?

- Yes. By the way, the future has already changed, so they won’t kill you. Hopefully.

- Well, let’s play, - said Fugo calmly.

The car stopped on uncrowded road. Lamps were lighting up all the sides, foreseeing a cruel fight.

⬅️ To be continued

#jojo bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jjba #our own story #my oc #carina #pannacotta fugo

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rebelcourtesan · 4 years

Text

My D&D Build for Angel Dust - Revised

Last year, I created a D&D character build for Angel Dust. Since then, I have gained more experience in building characters and because of the new music video, which added metric shit-ton of character depth for Angel Dust, it’s got me reexamining my build and I decided to revise it.

For those who don’t know, Angel Dust is a spider demon in hell who happens to be a gay porn star. Flirty, rude, seductive, and addicted to drugs and sex, Angel Dust smashes Eggboys with a club while firing tommy guns.

***Stats***

Charisma: Highest Stat. As a seductive performer, this must be Angel’s top stat. We want this maxed out as soon as possible.

Dexterity: Second Highest. Angel is quick on his feet and relies mostly on range weapons.

Constitution: Third Highest Angel is no front line fighter, but he was slammed to the ground and was not phased by it.

Wisdom: Fourth Highest. Angel was able to see a sneak attach in time to push Cherry Bomb out of the way..

Intelligence: Fifth Highest He’s not the brightest, but I wouldn’t put this as his dump stat either.

Strength: Dump stat.

***Race***

In the previous version, I wasn’t aware of the Simic Hybrid race that can grant an extra set of appendages, however, I still believe the best race for Angel Dust is Tiefling. Angel gets +2 added to Charisma score and if you choose the (a subclass of Tiefling) you can add a +1 to Angel’s Dexterity.

As a Tiefling, Angel gets resistance to fire damage and gains Darkvision.

Choose the Entertainer background which nets Angel Proficiency in Acrobatics and Performance. Acrobatics because Angel is a nimble fellow and Performance because a porn star is a performer and he is an excellent pole dancer.

Alright, just like last time, we are taking a dive into Bard. however, we’re going to do something different from last time.

Bard Level 1

As a Bard, Angel can give his allies Bardic Inspiration (1d6) as a bonus action. It can be added to an Ability Check, Saving Throw or Attack roll. Angel has as many Bardic Inspirations as he does his Charisma Modifier, so we want his Charisma as high as possible, but not only for Bardic Inspiration.

Charisma also serves as the ability modifier for Bard spells. Granted, Angel doesn’t use spells, but there are some spells that mimic his scathing insults. Choose spells that charm and verbally cuts down foes.

Spell Recommendation:

Vicious Mockery: You unleash a string of insults laced with subtle enchantments at a creature you can see within range. If the target can hear you (thought it need not understand you), it must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or take 1d4 psychic damage and have disadvantage on the next attack roll it makes before the end of its next turn.

Tasha's Hideous Laughter: A creature of your choice that you can see within range perceives everything as hilariously funny and falls into fits of laughter if this spell affects it. The target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or fall prone, becoming incapacitated and unable to stand up for the duration. A creature with an Intelligence score of 4 or less isn’t affected.

Bard can choose up to three skills to put their Proficiency in. Select Intimidation (he backed Travis down with an insult, Deception (he tricked Charlie and Vaggie into giving him free room and board), and Perception (being a sex worker in Hell, he has to be on the look out for danger).

Bard Level 2

Angel Dust gains Jack of all Trades which allows him to add half his proficiency bonus to all skills that don’t already have a proficiency bonus. Having been a gangster in the living world been in Hell for decades, he certain picked up on a number of skills.

Also, gets Song of Rest which allows allies to gain an extra 1d6 of healing during a short rest. I know Angel Dust isn’t really a healer, but hey, it’s still useful to have.

Bard Level 3

Expertise let’s Angel double his proficiency bonus in two skills he already has proficiency bonus. Choose Performance and Acrobatics.

At this level, Angel can choose a Bard College. This time we’re going with a different college: College of Satire.

Angel Dust gains a proficiency bonus in Sleight of Hand and Thieves Tools.

He can also use Tumble as a bonus action which can allows Angel Dust use the Dash or Disengage action, climb at his moving speed, and take half damage from falling until his next turn.

He can access 2nd level spells for Bard. I would recommend:

Crown of Madness: One humanoid of your choice that you can see within range must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or become charmed by you for the duration.

We’re going to leave Bard behind. With his mafia background and living in Hell has given Angel an edge in a fight.

Fighter Level 1

Select Archery for Angel’s fighting style. It’ll give him a +2 to attack rolls with range weapons.

Second Wind will allow Angel Dust to heal himself as a bonus action for 1d10 + Fighter Level. This can only be used once per Short or Long rest. Angel Dust did recover quickly after being slammed down on the ground by Sir Pentius.

Fighter Level 2

Action Surge gives Angel a second action on his turn. Can be done once per Short or Long rest.

Fighter Level 3

For Martial Archetype, select Sharpshooter (UA) gives Angel Dust Steady Aim which gives the following benefits for the rest of his turn:

• The attacks ignore half and three-quarters cover.

• On each hit, the weapon deals additional damage to the target equal to 2 + half your fighter level.

This can be done up to three times per Short or Long Rest.

Fighter Level 4

Ability Score Improvement: Add both points into Charsima. We want this maxed out as soon as possible. If you have an extra point, put it towards Dexterity.

Now we’’re going to round out Angel Dust with some melee fighting skills.

Rogue Level 1

Angel Dust gets another Expertise. This time choose Deception and Perception.

With a level in Rogue, Angel Dust can now add Sneak Attack (1d6) damage once per turn to any successful attack with advantage. He can also do this in melee if an ally is within 5 ft of the target. The weapon must be a finesse or a range.

Rogue Level 2

Cunning Action lets Angel to Dash or Disengage or Hide action as a bonus action. I know he already has this with College of Satire, but he can only use Tumble three times per rest. This will make a good back up for any long encounters.

Rogue Level 3

For the Rogue Archetype I’m going with Swash Buckler to round out Angel’s fighting prowess. Fancy Foot Work will began attacks of opportunity after a success hit with a melee weapon saving a bonus action for something else like Bardic Inspiration or Cutting Words.

Rakish Audacity lets Angel add his HIGH Charisma modifier to Initiative. Also, if by chance he’s within 5 ft of an enemy, he doesn’t need an advantage to do sneak attack damage.

Rogue Level 4

Use Ability Score Improvement to bump up Angel’s Charisma as it’s his most useful stat. If it’s already maxed out, bump up Dexterity to give him greater ability with range weapons and armor class.

Rogue Level 5

Uncanny Dodge Angel can use his reaction to halve damage whenever he takes a hit from an enemy that he can see.

Rogue Level 6

Expertise again. This time pick Sl;eight of Hand and Intimidation.

Rogue Level 7

Evasion works well as Angel will either take half or no damage against area effects.

Rogue Level 8

Abilty Score Improvement again. If Angel’s Charisma is already maxed out, then put points in Dex. If by change Dex is maxed out, put the extra points into Constitution.

Rogue Level 9

Panache will let Angel use his by now high Charisma (Persuasion) check to charm enemies or give them a disadvantage in attacking him.

Rogue Level 10

Ability Score Improvement again. By now your Charisma should be maxed out. Next should be Dex, if that is maxed out then put them into Con.

Rogue Level 11

Reliable Talent will hone Angel’s skills. Whenever he uses a skill check that includes his proficiency, any roll below a 9 is considered a 10 on the die.

Rogue Level 12

Yet another Ability Score Improvement. You know the score. If Charisma is already maxed out, redirect points to Dex or Con.

Rogue Level 13

Elegant Maneuver will come in handy with Angel’s high Dex score granting him an advantage with a bonus action.

Rogue Level 14

Blindsense gives Angel pretty good hearing. If he hears invisible creatures, he can pinpoint their exact location within ten feet of him, making it hard to get the drop on him.

You’ve created Angel Dust, a demon spider who relies on his Charisma and Dexterity in role playing and combat. He’s multi-talented which comes from being part of a crime family and scuttling along the underbelly world of Hell. The build might not give him four arms, but the Dexterity should make up for it.

The downside is he’s not a strong fighter as he prefers range weapons, but the abilities and skills he has will let him handle himself if they get within melee reach of him. And he has abilities such as Bardic Inspiration that can help his girl pal Cherry Bomb out in a fight.

#D&D character build #Hazbin Hotel #Angel Dust #d&d 5e

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talltales · 4 years

Photo

—HEY NOW, HEY NOW, DON'T DREAM IT'S OVER HEY NOW, HEY NOW, WHEN THE WORLD COMES IN THEY COME, THEY COME, TO BUILD A WALL BETWEEN US WE KNOW THEY WON'T WIN anonymous request!!

NOTICE: violence (murder, mentions of cannibalism), heavy sexual content

“i just painted my nails.”

blankly, she flicks away the blood trickling down her hand and turns it over to inspect the chipped pink polish peeling off with it. her trigger finger relaxes minutely, but her gun remains aimed at the deathly still men at her feet, staring sightlessly into the cloudless, red sky.

“i didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” the click of the clip being slatted into his own weapon accompanies his droll retort. she glances over her shoulder to find yugyeom leaning against the hood of their car, arms crossed loosely across his chest; dark eyes fixed upon the flow of blood across hot concrete.

before it reaches the tip of her shoes, she sidesteps and moves to rifle through the belongings peeking from their pockets. her gun is slipped into the old leather holster at her hip before she pulls a wallet from the closest man, “i was always that kind of girl. it isn’t my fault you never paid attention.”

she spares her companion a look and then turns back to the worn billfold, tossing the plethora of id cards contained into the summer wind, “looks like he was collecting trophies from his kills.”

“how barbaric.” yugyeom hums, impassive. his nose crinkles, however—offended by the emerging malodor of decay, “they reek. are you ready to go?”

“just a minute.”

the few bills contained within are deposited into her back pocket. discarded identification cards bearing the faces of strangers skitter across the road as she makes work of the other male’s wallet and, for good measure, plucks his half-empty carton of cigarettes from his coat pocket.

“got yours?” he slides off the hood of their old black mustang, slapping a palm against the hot metal before opening the driver side door, “because we need to start making some distance if they’ve got friends.”

“you’re a broken record, you know?”

“i’ll stop repeating myself when you start listening.”

the cool flow of a/c when she gets in is a welcome sensation. there are, after all, few luxuries left in a world that has gone to hell and dragged every survivor with it.

her thumb hovers over the radio dial out of habit, turning it on to catch nothing but muted static.

the radio broadcast had stopped four months ago.

where an endless stream of music and advertisements had once been, there was only white noise; broken only by the occasional snare laid by opportunistic hunters. assuming that there was prey left. at least the ones who would believe the theatric cries for help, transmitting on repeat in the early morning hours.

without the loose guide of societal standards, humanity turned on itself. cannibalized the weak. she hits the off button and releases a heavy breath; sinks into her seat as yugyeom starts the engine. what an ugly place to be—

to be left behind in.

“what is it?” his attention is on the road, intent as he navigates smoothly past the still-warm bodies and the last remnants of their victims, innocent things blowing away in the desert wind, “you’re thinking too much.“

“i know. i’m just wondering how many of those fuckers can possibly be hiding out here. how many people they’ve killed, and for what?” her teeth sink into her lower lip, biting down until the dull ache draws her mind back—to the scent of leather and gunpowder and the droll, knowing look yugyeom gives her, “for useless pieces of plastic? money that can only be spent in camps where they’ll be shot on sight?”

one instinct had survived the dissolution of the world, after all. people knew a wanted man when they saw one.

“you know why.” he hums, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, “i shouldn’t have to remind you.”

“humor me.”

the conversation is an old one, repeated for the sake of soothing what remains of her conscience. stubborn as it is, it comes to life in moments like these; when the adrenaline fades away and she is left with blood caked under her nails and the smell of copper clinging to her skin.

“they kill for the thrill of it.” for her sake, yugyeom answers. the words flow easily, as if he’sreciting a memorized poem; an old story told a time too many. “they enjoy it.”

“i enjoy it.” she confesses, not for the first time. she stretches as the seat allows, arching her back as her fingertips brush the roof; the telltale click of her spine realigning itself brings a fleeting sense of relief. she speaks to the spotted, hazy glass of the sunroof, “i enjoy hunting them and putting them down.”

the blood-red sky is cloudless; speckled only with the brightest starlight breaking through the atmosphere.

“so do i,” he says, and the matter is settled.

again.

—

“so wound up,” she breathes, grazing the curve of his jaw with slow, wet kisses; deft fingers threading through his hair, “i wanted to help,” rolling her hips in a hard grind, she almost chuckles at the way he twitches inside her; the way every muscle in his body seems to tense simultaneously as she darts her tongue out to taste the sweat beading above his collarbone, “but i guess i’m not—should i stop?”

her head spins, body seared by the window beneath her palm and the pressure of the steering wheel digging into the dip of her spine. but it is the ebb and flow of his rhythm that renders her breathless; makes her feel like she’s suffocating the most exquisite way.

she muffles her cries against his throat and centers her attention on the wild skipping of his pulse under her tongue.

yugyeom’s jaw tightens and the next sound that escapes is half-protest, half-groan. she feels the weight of him, pressing into her hips from contrasting directions; his thumbs scoring marks against her skin—his hips canting up to meet hers, languid and deep.

she catches his words after a delayed moment in which her mind stutters to a stop when he brushes a spot inside her that makes her see stars.

“don’t you fucking dare.” it’s quiet, so very quiet, but something in her relishes at the loss of his composure, the rare curse emerging in a growl that tightens the coil inside her. in pursuit of more, she forces herself to stop with him buried as deep as their bodies allow; clenches around him until she can see something in him snap.

it makes it all that much sweeter when he comes apart.

he is, in these moments, the only beautiful sight left in this wretched world.

—

she wears his bruises like trophies, sometimes, lounging in the backseat with her legs folded beneath her and a brush running through her hair.

he watches through the rear-view mirror, as he always does, when she shifts—clad only in a pair of practical briefs and bra. the impression of his hands frame her hips and she takes pleasure in watching his eyes wander before he realizes what he’s doing. because kim yugyeom is always composed, always in control.

except when he isn’t.

and their dalliances are less about attraction than they are about release. she swears on that.

there is a softness to his touch when he isn’t paying attention—in the midnight hours, when their only light is the blue-tinge of headlights cutting through the dark; in the moments before he cuts the engine and his hand slides from the gear-shift to grip hers. “we’re keeping this quick,” he mutters, in a way that is more order than she cares for.

she’s out of the car before he can say anything else, “if they don’t drag it out.”

her sidearm is grasped firmly with her finger hovering over the trigger, her only guide the faint flickering of a campfire in the distance—

the stench of unwashed bodies and smoke.

every step is muffled beneath the howling of the wind and the hush of sand swirling over the earth. hunting is a natural instinct, but stealth is an acquired skill. it is her contribution in their little arrangement, because as graceful as yugyeom is he is impossible to miss.

he follows behind her, well-worn boots crushing the few sprigs of grass that have survived the onslaught of an unforgiving sun. even at this hour, the edge of it lingers on the horizon; an angry crimson-gold.

“you should’ve heard her scream,” comes the distant echoes of laughter from the makeshift camp ahead, beyond the shadow cast by the tents circling the site. they are lit from within by the fire on the other side, revealing silhouettes of figures perched upon folding chairs and the prone half-body beside the fire, “i’d have kept her alive just to hear it again, but a man’s gotta have his dinner.”

it’s an old sight, but it turns her stomach just the same.

her finger itches over the trigger, and she doesn’t have to look back to feel the intent radiating from the man behind her.

two, she holds up the signal and raises her gun while sidestepping into the gap beneath the twin tents. it takes effort to ignore the scavenged woman lying in the dirt; the silver and gold ring on her left hand gleaming in the firelight. someone’s wife.

instead she steels her voice and, assured that yugyeom has his gun trained on the other man, disengages the safety. “on the ground,” it comes out with a hiss; air flowing between teeth gritted so hard she feels it in her jaw.

the sight of the duo scrambling to find her in the darkness is only mildly satisfying. no, the true pleasure only comes when yugyeom fires a warning shot that grazes his target’s cheek, and abject fear takes hold.

“who’s there?” her target. his face is buried in the dirt; amorphous cooked meat beside his head. it takes effort to hold her fire until her boot slams into his spine and the barrel of her gun finds its way into his hair; digs into his scalp.

“you don’t need to concern yourself with that. i’ve got a question for you.”

on the other side of the fire, yugyeom does much the same—nose wrinkling as the man beneath him squirms under his knee; whines incoherently about the gash in his cheek.

“what do you want?”

“you got any buddies out here?” she asks, watching his eyes flicker about wildly, as if searching for an escape. or reinforcements, as the case may be. she secretly hopes for the latter.

“it’s just us,” the man whispers, and she pulls the trigger.

an answering shot rings through the night, and she looks up to see yugyeom wiping blood from his forehead before he walks to the parked pickup truck nearby. he preforms a perfunctory search, pulling a marked map from the glove compartment and a few bills that disappear into the pockets of his jeans.

“quick enough for you?” she questions before she can stop herself, trailing after him with a contemplative look at the container sitting next to the rear tire.

he nods, placid as ever, though she can see the spark of something in his eyes—the promise of another night spent chasing a different sort of satisfaction.

this is, after all, empty work on the best of days.

“the map—“

“for later. to find any stragglers.” she watches as he glances back at the campsite; stares at the blood splattered everywhere. it’s the clenching of his jaw that makes her act upon the persistent urge to act—to reach for the gas container and unscrew the cap.

without a word, she tips it and watches the crystalline liquid soak the ground at her feet. she doesn’t stop until the canister is empty and the site is soaked in the smell of gasoline; each body drenched with it.

he doesn’t stop her.

the only move he makes is toward her, to stand at her side as she fishes a matchbook from her back pocket and strikes it; the flame dances at her fingertip for a moment before she drops it—watches the campfire swell within minutes to a blaze that lights the night sky in shades of gold.

the heat is searing—makes her feel as if she’s burning alive, but for the first time she feels satisfaction with this ugly thing they do.

purification by fire.

only the slide of his fingertips over the back of her hand draws her back; the hesitant way that he laces their fingers together and tugs her back toward the car waiting in the distance. she squeezes, and feels the heaviness in her chest lighten when he returns the gesture.

it has practical purpose; less about affection than it is about comfort.

she swears on that.

“where to next?” for lack of anything better to say, she inquires into the open air, taking her first breath of fresh air.

yugyeom seems to hesitate, and she watches from the corner of her eye as he turns the question over in his mind before he speaks. always thoughtful, always choosing his words carefully.

“i think we’re overdue for a trip home.”

#request #member + prompt #yugyeom fanfic #got7 fanfic

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spiltscribbles · 4 years

Note

omg hi i don't know if i was able to send my request to you cos my wifi sucks but could you write "things you said while I cried in your arms" and/or "things you said when you thought I was asleep" for alex and henry? :) loved your last one so much!!

~Notes: I’m so sorry I never posted this here my love🥺 But I hope you enjoy this!!! A REBLOG IS WORTH A thouSANd STARS!

Things You Said | Prompts Closed

When Henry was being brought up— back before his father’s abrupt death and before he understood the sadness in his mother’s eyes and before the very act of attending family dinners had begun to feel like crossing into enemy territory— the Fox Mountchristen Windsors would spend their summers in the family estate, Mertylewood, in northern Hampshire. Back then Henry had thunk the manner there was a Neverland of sorts, otherworldly and magical and totally untouched by the underhanded dealings and suffocating sophistication required by the life of a royal.

Mertylewood was wide and sweeping, with boundless rooms with air that always smelt like a cocktail of hickory and bonfires and the gossamer his mother had always favored. It was surrounded by green pastures and flower meadows for miles, divorced completely from any of the uneasiness back home, and Henry had always relished in the anonymity of it all. A respite from a life composed of expectations, doused in the ever appraising public eye, and strung together by the looming threat of the responsibility to the family name. It was the closest thing to home he’s ever known.

Mertylewood was the place where his mother taught him how to knit, their hands folded into one another’s and her long arms encircling his narrow frame. It was where Phillip stopped being such a god forsaken wanker all the god damn time and taught him how to aim while shooting with his bow and arrows. It’s where Beatrice looked lightest, most carefree, where she forgot about the judgmental glances by the gaggle of tube sock wearing, nasally sounding girls she claims are her friends. It was where she and Henry would stay up all night long listening to her favorite records, and painting their nails ridiculous colors and laughing for absolutely no reason at all. But most importantly, Mertylewood was the one place where none of the cameras or tabloids or reporters got even a slice of their family, including Henry’s father, his hero. His father who always told Henry that while Arthur might’ve been in the movie business, Henry was the brightest star of them all. His father who loved them all so thoroughly that Henry could never forget it, even when the shine to his smile or precise shade of blue to his eyes began to fade. His father who spent the afternoons in Mertylewood with Henry riding their horses and chasing the sunlight. Afternoons where Henry felt like time would never end.

Their favorite spot to stop and rest was a tiny alcove on the cusp of the property, right where the trees met the mouth of the river, and where the sunlight refracted against the tree tops and sod to make them look like they were ablaze. Henry had thought that it was something magical, something that could never be replicated. He knows now, a decade and a half removed, that he was wrong. He sees the same blaze in Alex Claremont Diaz’s chestnut eyes whenever he’s determined, excited for a challenge even if it’s something as stupid as a staring contest that he refuses for Henry to win. He thinks Alex is the personification of that wonderment Henry had once felt as a naive boy, and is blown away by him all over again.

“Oy! I saw that!” Alex suddenly crows, leaping up from his seat on their sofa in the Brownstone Henry had bought to start their lives together, topping it off with some ridiculous dance from some ridiculous app that in all seriousness Alex shouldn’t even have considering that it was created by a hostile government literally spying on it’s users. “You blinked Henryson! I win!”

“I did not do anything of the sort!” Henry reproves with no real heat, too busy trying not to gaze longingly at Alex’s swinging hips in those sweatpants.

God it’s so fucking unfair that his boyfriend is so hot, and even more unfair that Henry is so God damn weak for him.

“Ah c’mon sour patch,” Alex pretends to croon, beginning to pepper sloppy kisses down the column of Henry’s neck, unwittingly making it so Henry arches up towards him. “I know it’s not really part of you royals’ MO, but a deal is a deal.”

“Says the first son of a nation which rebelled over some taxes,” Henry scoffs, can’t help the snicker that bubbles out or the dazed way he feels over the gleam in Alex’s eyes.

“Spare me babe, you love it when I’m a rebel,” Alex goads, far too cheeky and far too endearing all at once. He’s a living contradiction that Henry would spend an eon trying to figure out, but for now, Henry momentarily loses all thought when Alex, the sneak, slips a sly hand into his shirt, and swipes his fingers against bare skin— a whisper, a promise for something more.

Henry has fallen for a bastard, God save the queen.

“I promise I’ll make it worth your trouble,” Alex pretends to croon, presses an open mouth kiss to Henry’s own. In turn, henry only responds by swinging his head back and willing himself not to get all heated like he were some fucking schoolboy with his first crush over being a fully fledged adult lounging around in his home with his fucking fiance of all people. His annoying ass, smug as all get out fiance, but his fiancé all the same.

“I took’r out to shit last time!” Henry grouses, greedily pulls Alex back closer when he starts to detach himself.

“I seem to remember that you offered last time,” Alex says with a pointed hiking to his dark brow, dips down to trade another snog like he couldn’t help it, as if he felt a fraction for what Henry felt for him. “And then you lost this time around, so.”

“I’m not use to all this manual labor while i’m in America,” Henry tries for broke, immediately regrets the quip when he sees the way it makes Alex’s entire countenance go smug and his button nose turn up in such a shrewd fashion that it inspires a whole slew of maddening emotions to chorus within him, ninety percent of which being that he’d really like to get Alex naked. Nine percent wanting to kiss him so hard that it falls off, and the remaining one percent being a mental note to text June about some face masks for him to get rid of the blackheads speckled around there.

“Shut it Alexander,” Henry opts to say, faux aggrieved as he slips out of his embrace and picks up Eleanor’s leash. “I’ll take her out if you just promise not to speak out loud any of the various innuendos you’ve surely devised in that cryptic place you call a brain.”

“Rude.” Alex sniffs.

“I reckon that’s a deal?” Henry presses.

“You run a hard bargain,” Alex nods, unflinching and far too serious. Truly, Henry must be completely off his rocker considering that he’s not only helplessly in love with this boy, but he’s been lost on him since before he could remember. Sometimes his chest feels like it’s going to burst with the love he feels for him, knows that he can be shit at showing it, quieter than Alex’s grand gestures and loud proclamations, but Alex knows. Alex knows how the love Henry holds for him runs deeper than all the oceans, and more expansive than this galaxy. He knows that Henry considers him his person, that what he feels for Alex is unparalleled by any other, insurmountable in its daunting expanse but what keepsHenry grounded nonetheless. And that’s the most important part out of all of this.

“I’ll make you some tea for when you guys get back,” Alex offers, grin a supernova that Henry had once been terrified to burn against.

“If I end up dead in a gutter and the local news reports that I was a decent man, you promise to get me one of the nicer candles for my wake, won’t you? The one’s with a wooden wick?” Henry asks, only partly kidding.

“Don’t be silly babe,” Alex laughs, mock magnanimous. “With those cheekbones? You’d never end up on local news, primetime would be fools not to plaster that pretty face all over!”

Henry frowns before pecking a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I’m so glad I’ve got such a strong support system at home Alexander.”

“You know it baby.”

When Henry had been six and Beatrice a fresh ten year’s old their parents had taken them to see a peculiar show on Westend which featured odd musical numbers, a Mary Poppins like nanny, and a set of twins whom were able to read one another’s minds. Henry was so very confused by the whole ordeal, but Beatrice was downright ebullient over it. She had spent that entire spring trying to train them to learn how to do the very same. Predictably, it was a spring full of scraped knees and random bruises and a twisted ankle. But sometimes, once in a blue moon, their connection is so clairvoyant that Henry privately thinks that somehow Beatrice’s persistence had somehow forged the bond out of sheer force of will.

Exhibit A, while Henry walks down the brisk streets of the city— or well, less walking and more being dragged by the ninety pound Labrador he and Alex had adopted nearly a year ago now— he feels his phone buzz, and when he opens it he finds a message from Beatrice. Just a short phrase coupled with a photograph that punches the air right out of him.

B: Sometimes I miss it

The attachment is a picture of the five of them, Henry and Beatrice with Phillip and their parents, on Mertylewood’s veranda. The photograph was taken on a day where the light shimmered, making it so Henry and their mother’s golden hair shone right through. Henry and his siblings were in matching trousers and tops, while his parents were caught mid laugh. It looked like what you’d see plastered all over the trashy magazine covers that were obsessed with their family to a morbid degree.

Henry remembers the precise moment the photograph was taken. Remembers how his father spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out the camera settings so that it would take an automatic shot. Remembers Phillip and Beatrice bickering about a butterfly she had caught and he had let go free. Henry remembers his mother carding a ginger hand through his tousled hair, the both of them always having been more reserved than the others and sharing the trait like a lifeline in the chaos of it all. Henry remembers how after they had finally gotten a good collection for their grandmother to sift through in the midst of deciding which would make it on that year’s Christmas collage for the paper, Arthur had tossed Henry on his shoulder, and slung an arm around Catherine’s hip and beckoned the two oldest along for them to go out for sundaes and eat them by the peer.

It’s one of the last truly happy memories Henry has before his father’s diagnosis, a snapshot of resplendence that would never last.

He isn’t sure how long he’s been staring down at his phone, doesn’t notice that time had passed until he finally feels the salty droplets cascading down and splashing against the screen. And shit, it’s been over an hour since he’s left. It was only meant to be a walk around the block for Eleanor to stretch out her legs before bed. Damn it, Alex is probably worried sick.

With a shuttering breath, Henry slowly shuts off his phone, looks up to find that he recognizes the apartment complex they’ve stumbled in front of, miraculously only five minutes away from his and Alex’s place.

“Thank Jesus,” Henry mutters before softly tugging Eleanor away from a hydrant and making the trek back home, stomach twisted up in knots over how Alex must feel.

His suspicions are confirmed when the pair of them make it back home and are greeted by the sight of a peeved off looking Alex, only clad in his pajama bottoms and a frown.

“You could’ve called,” he says, bends down to ruffle a hand into an excited Eleanor’s fur.

“I know.” Henry says, utterly apologetic.

“Dude I thought you really were gonna end up needing that fucking candle,” Alex tells him.

“I— I’m sorry.”

Henry’s not sure if it was the stutter he let out just then, or if he finally had gotten close enough for Alex to spot the wetness tracing down his cheeks, but almost immediately Alex’s expression goes stunned, then confused, followed by angry until it lands on something painfully contrite.

“Baby,” he says in a hush, and the open way that word comes out of him— pleading and hurt and wanting all at once— is enough for a new round of tears to flood Henry’s eyes and for his body to begin trembling while his heart lodges up into his rapidly shutting throat.

Henry thanks his every star that he’s got Alex. That he has someone he can trust so implicitly, so thoroughly that he isn’t afraid when his brain shuts off and he just falls into his fiancé’s embrace, plunging his face into the juncture of Alex’s head and shoulder and just sobs, let’s the sadness just swallow him whole and lets himself remember his father and remember his family and remember when everything had been so effortless.

Somehow, seamlessly, Alex carts him and their pup indoors, helps Henry shed himself of his jacket and shoes before pressing him down onto their bed, and wraps him up into his favorite blanket. Henry absently knows that when Alex leaves him to his solitude it’s because he has to make sure Eleanor is taken care of and has to shut down everything around the house, but that doesn’t stop Henry’s yearning for him, nor does it stop him for feeling so painstakingly alone.

When Alex comes back it’s with a glass of water, and a bowl of fruit, and a cup of hot coco because he knows that’s what Beatrice makes him whenever Henry is feeling especially sad. Henry wonders if Alex knows it’s an old tradition started by their father whenever their mother had gotten the same way. He’d like to tell him, but feels so very tired that he can’t fathom moving his lips to form around the words, resolves to explain it another day.

“You’re back,” Henry says, hates how desperate he sounds, wishes he weren’t so very inept.

“I love you,” Alex answers, his smile still so fucking bright and his hands so soft as he climbs into bed with him, props Henry’s head on his chest and kisses the line where his hair begins.

Henry starts to cry all over again, and Alex only repeats the affirmation, moves to telling him funny stories of when he and June were younger when that doesn’t work, and then starts to rant about his hellish constitutional law professor because he knows that Henry wants nothing more than a distraction.

Tomorrow Henry will show him the photograph, and Alex will understand because he knows Mertylewood, hell he’s spent a handful of weeks over there. Then Henry will tell him more stories in exchange for the ones Alex had given him tonight. Then Henry will explain the hot chocolate thing and Alex will listen and laugh and nod and kiss Henry in all the right parts. And Henry will just fall in love with him all over again. Tomorrow Alex will ask if they could have their wedding in Mertylewood because he wants Henry to be reminded of that happiness always, and also because he thinks it’ll act as some sort of tribute to Arthur. Henry won’t say yes right away but he’ll think it, and it will be better, because Alex always makes it better. But for now it doesn’t have to be better, and Henry is so thankful he understands that.

“I really love you Henry, you know that?” Alex asks hours later when the tears have dried away and they’re doing nothing but mapping out the patches of skin on one another’s bodies— reverent and unhurried and just because they need to be touching one another.

Henry wants to make a joke, thinks that on any other night he’d retort with a playful barb without a second thought, but he can’t make himself do so tonight, it all feels too raw, too real, too fragile.

“I love you Alexander,” he says instead, cuddles closer to him. “For forever and a day.”

“Forever and a day.” Alex confirms and they fall asleep like that, tangled in forever and one another and all their tomorrows.

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