#though less art is better than the NONE that happens when I’m exhausted and having a bad time

[scribblemakes]

[ID: A collection of black and white sketches showing everyday objects that are haunted by little creatures. These creatures fill in gaps with black space and white dots for eyes /End ID]

As some of you might’ve seen: I’m no longer posting art on Twitter, so Tumblr is now the only social media I’ll be consistently posting art to. However: I’ll also be posting it to my website and possibly other social media platforms in the future.

I also post monthly sketch pages to my Patreon (April’s is on this post) with early access for Patrons, and I’m hoping to add more things to it soon!

Thanks everyone for your support (your tags mean a lot to me!) and I’ve put more of my thoughts in the tags.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

[myherowritings]

PART 3. ACCIDENTAL SUGAR DADDY?

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. happy new year y’all! :3 i hope you have a good 2021 and here is some flirty ceo!shouto for u to enjoy as we enter the new year hehe ;) thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

“I heard you dropped by this weekend,” you said as a greeting, a playful smile on your lips. “Looking for me?”

If the tips of his ears didn’t tinge pink, you would have guessed Shouto was completely unaffected by your words. 

“Mn.” He drew his attention away from your gaze and pointedly adjusted his cufflinks. “Good morning to you too.” 

You laughed, accepting you wouldn’t get anything out of your attempt at teasing. “Morning, Shouto. How was your weekend?” 

The cafe was quite busy this hour, but Miyazaki took over the other register to alleviate the stress (though, what she really said was so you and pretty boy—who happened to be rich rich—could talk). Whatever the reason, you were glad for a small break whenever you could get it.

“You could say it was busy,” he replied, sounding a bit tired. For the first time since you met him, you actually noticed how exhausted he looked. You wanted to put cucumbers on his eyes and lay his head down on your lap to coax him to sleep. Nonetheless, he smiled softly at you. “And yours? I hope you were able to have time to rest and relax.”

You nodded. “I just slept a lot and caught up on the shows I missed throughout the week.”

“The real way a weekend should be spent.” 

His voice was teasing but he didn’t sound mocking. Just...somewhat playful. There was something about his tone that made you want to hear it again.

“Something tells me you need a weekend away where you could just relax and do nothing,” you commented, tapping the back of your pen to your chin. “Do you not have any days off at work?” 

He considered this. “Depends what you mean by day off.” 

“If you have to ask that, that probably means you don’t have a day off, huh?” you said with a frown, holding your hand over your chest as you sighed dramatically. “You poor thing. Overworked and tired. Maybe I should steal you away one weekend and get you to just relax.” 

You were only half-serious.

“Maybe you should,” agreed Shouto, sounding full-serious.

“Maybe I will,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. Maybe you could if you actually had his number… Then, feeling shameful you said, “But, ah, anyway, what can I get for you today? We actually have cheese danishes again!”

His face brightened. “You do? I’ll take five dozen.”

With a laugh you took down his order. You really weren’t sure where all these pastries were going when he bought it, but judging from his expression, you figured it must be somewhere good. 

“And for your drink?”

“This time I’ll have a large green tea with almond milk, please.” 

You nodded but tilted your head to the side in question. “No coffee with extra shots of espresso today?” 

“I add too much sugar and creamer to my coffee,” he admitted sheepishly. “And with all the baked goods I’ve been eating I realized I may have had an excess amount of sweets lately.” 

With an understanding laugh you patted his hand that was resting on the counter woefully. “I can definitely relate to that. If too many sweets are bad for you they shouldn’t have made it taste so good.”

Shouto glanced down at where your hands touched, an expression you couldn’t quite discern on his face. Averting your gaze, you quickly pulled your hand back. Was that inappropriate of you? Did he find it too pushy?

“Oh— Sorry about that,” you said, rubbing your elbow with your opposite hand. “Got a bit ahead of myself there.”

“No, it’s fine.” He blinked once. “I didn’t mind.”

Unsure if he meant anything by that and unsure if you were reading too much into things, you simply brushed the topic off and moved on to getting his order in telling him the price. 

“Paying by card again, I’m assuming?” you asked before hitting the appropriate button on the screen.

“Correct.”

By now the sight of the sleek and pretty credit card was one you grew rather fond of as he scanned over the payment terminal and signed his name. Was it weird you wanted to examine his signature more closely? Shouto seemed like the type of person who would have a fancy signature that somehow looked like art. 

As per routine, you told him his order would be ready for pick up at his right and, before he left the register, he thanked you and gave you another $100. 

Did it feel any less strange than the first time he tipped you? Not really, no. But you still weren’t going to complain about a generous tip from a willing customer.

Before he left with his cheese danishes and cup of tea in hand, he stopped by next to you with a small smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You grinned back. “Can’t wait, Shouto!” 

— ✩ —

This went on for a whole other week. By this point, he had given you over $1,000 in tip and you were starting to feel like you should give him something in return despite him assuring you he didn’t expect anything. 

When you told your friends about the nice guy you met while you were working and they asked for the details, the first thing they said in response to your situation was, “Sugar daddy?” 

Before they planted that thought into your head, you just took it as a rich businessman who hated the rich and believed in redistribution of wealth—you couldn’t complain about that. That made him even more appealing, if you must say. But once Kaminari and Ashido whispered those two words, you couldn’t help but see the comparisons. 

You had no issues with sugar daddies or sugar babies; as long as they were two consenting adults, what did it matter to you? It just wasn’t something you were looking for at the time and you didn’t want Shouto to get the wrong impression or involve yourself in something you weren’t ready to. 

As you commuted to work for your next morning shift, you told yourself today was the day you’d thank him one final time for the tips, but tell him you couldn’t accept anymore. You were sure he’d be understanding but you also hoped it wouldn’t deter him from coming to see you. That was the last thing you’d want. 

“Mrs. Miyazaki,” you said between customers. “When Shouto comes in, do you think I can step away from the register to talk to him for a little? I promise it’ll be brief!”

She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not a problem. Are you finally going to ask him out or something?”

You scratched the back of your neck. “Or something, yeah.” 

Thankfully, by the time Shouto arrived today, it was later than he normally came, meaning rush hour was almost dying down. 

“Good morning! Someone’s a little late today,” you teased. “Overslept?” 

“I wish,” he sighed wistfully. “I had a meeting early this morning and it just ended. Didn’t have a chance to pick up some coffee or pastries beforehand.” 

You frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope whoever was hosting the meeting at least provided you guys drinks and snacks!” 

He paused. “He did, but… I just thought yours were better.” 

Smiling at the compliment, you preened. “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised. And I’m glad you were able to drop by still. Would’ve missed you too much otherwise.”

Again, you were only half-serious.

“Hm. I would’ve missed you too.”

And again, he seemed full-serious. Not that you minded. 

After taking his order and watching him pay, you pulled him to the side, looking over at your boss so she knew what was going on. She gave you a brief nod as you turned your attention to Shouto. 

A lapse of silence went by and he spoke up, “Did you have something you wanted to say?” 

“Yeah, actually.” You wrung your fingers nervously, hoping you wouldn’t say anything to offend him since you knew his actions were coming from a kind place. “I just wanted to say… I’m not really looking for a sugar daddy right now.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “Pardon?” 

You stared at him, unsure what to say. 

“I— Sorry. I wasn’t… It’s not my intention to be a...sugar daddy either.” Shouto’s face flushed a bright pink that made your own cheeks warm up in response. 

“But the—the money? I just… I guess I thought…” You winced.

So he wasn’t trying to pick up a sugar baby… Well, this was awkward. But regardless, you think you’ve gotten close enough to him to the point where it would feel weird accepting money from him. 

“I’m sorry if I was unclear. It really is just a tip to show appreciation for your service here.” 

You shook your head. “No! Sorry, that makes sense! My friends just said… And then I…” you trailed off, feeling a million times more flustered than when you started. “Sorry about that. The sugar daddy mishap aside, I still wanted to say that I really appreciate the tips you gave, but I don’t think I can accept them anymore.” 

Slowly, he nodded, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. “I understand. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened!” you were quick to assure. “I really am thankful, but… I think we’ve gotten too close for me to be comfortable accepting that much money, you know?”

Shouto tilted his head to the side, listening intently. 

“Like,” you tried to explain, fiddling with your apron, “over the past few weeks I just think we’ve gotten to know each other more and I think of you as a friend of sorts now.” You peered at him through your lashes, hoping your words were making sense. “I think as a relationship develops—for me, at least—adding money into the mix can cause weird power imbalances if not communicated properly. And I just don’t want that for us.” 

He thought through your words for a while before agreeing. “I get what you mean. I wouldn’t want to unintentionally make you feel like you owe me anything, so if you’re not comfortable with it, I can stop.” 

“Thanks, Shouto,” you said with a beam, glad he was so receptive. Really though, what else did you expect? From your interactions with him you took him to be kindhearted and open. Of course he wouldn’t be upset over this. “But just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you should stop coming! Right? I don’t want to stop being your friend or anything!” 

With a small laugh, he nodded. “Sure. I wouldn’t want to part with my favorite cafe. And I’d like to keep being friends as well.”

Those words warmed your heart. You really were nervous about this confrontation earlier; you didn’t want voicing your opinion to mean ending your friendship. (Although, if you sharing what you were comfortable with was enough to end a relationship, then you supposed it was bound to be a toxic and stifling one in the long run and it was good to know in the beginning to end it before it could grow.) Turns out, however, that you didn’t even need to worry about that. He was understanding and sweet and you were glad to have gotten this out of the way.

“Well, as new friends,” you said, gently nudging his side, “maybe we should get to know each other more? Exchange numbers… Hang out outside of this cafe…” You ran through some suggestions, almost bouncing on your feet in excitement. “I mean, I know you’re always so busy and might not have much free time to hang out. But— If you’re ever free one weekend…” 

“I’d enjoy that,” he cut in, saving you from blabbering your mouth off and accidentally embarrassing yourself. “Didn’t you say you’d steal me away from work to relax? I’m still holding you to that.” 

The beginnings of a smirk formed on his face as he looked at your flustered expression. Was he teasing you?

You huffed, pretending to be insulted by his playful mocking. “Guess I’ll really have to do it then.” 

“Guess so.”

“Maybe you should give me your number first so we could plan it.” 

“Okay.”

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours, both of your adding your numbers to the contact list. Smiling, you held the phone in front of the two of you to take a contact picture of yourself for Shouto’s phone. To your complete surprise, he laughed before promptly following suit and taking a selfie for his contact image. 

“Cute,” you said when he handed you back your phone. 

“You too.” 

Placing your device back in your pocket, you looked at him, hand on hip. “Since when did you become such a smooth-talker? Am I going to have to guard my heart now?” 

His only response was a shrug, but you could see hints of a smile playing on his face. The two of you seemed to be smiling a lot lately, you couldn’t help but notice. 

“I should probably let you go to work now—and I should go back to mine.” You gestured to the growing line at the front of the store. Your manager looked like she had things under control, but you didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness. “You should text me later though. If you want.”

“I’ll do that,” Shouto promised, picking up his drink and pastry boxes from the side counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. And… I’ll message you soon.” 

As you watched him leave the store, you were certain you had a silly look on your face as you stared in a trance. 

“I’ll turn my phone off silent just for you!” you said to his back, hoping he understood what a momentous occasion this was. Your phone was always on silent (unless you were playing a game, of course). But for Shouto, you could handle hearing the obnoxious ringtone and text tone. 

With an amused expression he nodded before waving goodbye.

Later on that day, at the end of your shift, you noticed a new message from a certain someone that made your stomach flutter.

Shouto: Hi there. It’s Shouto :)

You never knew those four simple words would be enough to keep the grin plastered on your face up until the moment your head hit your pillow to fall asleep. But, damn— Were you glad that happened to be the case. 

a/n: whY WAS SHOUTO AND Y/N EXCHANGING NUMBERS SO CUTE idk that scene got me all blushy and :DDD HFJDKSF like taking a selfie with shouto and getting his number? only goal in life BFHFGF,, also y/n said no more tips how we feeling? ;o 

what to expect in the next part:

an unwanted visitor ಥ_ಥ

shouto has a...proposition for y/n 

FLIRTING FLUFF SO MUCH CUTENESS U MIGHT CRY

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~

[ddarker-dreams]

Exodus. Yan Chrollo x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol mention, implied trauma, and panic attacks.  Word count: 1.6k.

Tonight commemorates an important milestone. 

You don’t know if you’d call this outing a “celebration”, the somberness of your mood presenting a stark contrast to the festive label. Reclaiming authority over your own life shouldn’t have been a necessity in the first place. To take pleasure in having autonomy again feels surreal, invoking a bitterness within you that can never be sated. Nothing serves as a permanent solution in making you feel better. Distractions, all of them, fleeting as the wind that carries you from one city to the next. 

The glass in front of you is empty, your throat burning from finishing it off. It’s late -- around midnight, last time you checked -- you should be heading out by now. Staying in one location longer than necessary is unwise. This prepaid card should have just enough to cover your tab for the night, if you’ve been keeping track properly. The man who’s been chatting you up for the past thirty minutes pauses when he sees you reaching for your wallet. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he chuckles, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “My treat?” 

It’s a welcome enough invitation. “Ah... if it’s not too much a bother.” 

He shakes his head, and waves the bartender over. “It’s the least I could do. You make for a good conversation partner.” 

Good conversation partner, you think, repeating his words in your mind. Well, it beats some lecherous guy trying to feel me up. I’ll take it. 

“Though, I’ve got to say, are you feeling alright? You look like you’ve been spaced out for a bit. Did you drink too much?” He asks with a frown. It’s true that your head feels hazy, but it’s not debilitating. 

“I’ll be fine,” you respond, stretching your sore muscles. “Thank you for caring.” 

As more people from nearby clubs pour in for a drink, the bar feels more claustrophobic. Various people walk by you at every moment. You and your friendly companion have to move out of the way to make room for the influx of people, even though you’re sitting on barstools. Can’t people bother giving a bit more space? Geez... 

“Alright, just making sure,” he’s been feeling around his pocket for a few seconds now, eyebrows furrowing. “Huh, that’s strange, I could’ve sworn I left my wallet right here...” 

You look at the pocket he’s referring to, recalling how he put his wallet in there after ordering drinks for himself earlier. Before you get the opportunity to offer to help him search, there’s an additional voice behind you. One that instantly submerges your body into a state of unrivaled panic.

“I’ll pay for them.” 

There’s a hand placed on your shoulder. For such a light touch, it carries a heavy weight, your body all but crumbling underneath of it. Your breath catches in the back of your tightening throat. This... this can’t be happening. It’s been months. How is this possible, I took every precaution-- 

“Isn’t that right, [First]?” Chrollo comes into your view, a content smile on his face. The same smile that tells you he knows he’s won. The same smile that seals your fate, closing every door to the future you fought tooth and nail to open up. You don’t trust your voice, not in this petrified state, opting to nod your head once. Wrapping up some unsuspecting stranger in this is the last thing you want to do. Especially as courteous as this person has been to you.  

“Ah, thanks man, I must’ve dropped it somewhere,” he lets out an awkward laugh. From how Chrollo is referring to you with familiarity, he assume he’s your boyfriend. “I’ll head out for now then. It was nice meeting you.” 

“Y-yeah. Nice meeting you too.” You swallow bile that rises in your throat, every muscle in your body going taut. Chrollo takes the seat the stranger had once occupied and eyes you with acute interest. He’s wearing far more casual clothes than usual, bandages covering the peculiar mark on his head. Neither of you make a move. Had it been anyone else, any other person threatening you without so much as uttering a word, you’d be making a scene. 

It isn’t anyone else. You know Chrollo, you know the lengths he’d go to. One wrong move and everyone in here would be reduced to nothing less than a bloodstain on the floor. Playing your cards right is the only option, stalling until a better solution comes into your paralyzed mind. His dark grey eyes are unreadable, piercing straight through you, bringing a sense of dread like no other.

Your hands tighten on your lap, fingernails digging into the skin of your thighs. “How... how long...?” 

Chrollo raises an eyebrow at your quivering voice. “How long what? How long ago I knew the body wasn’t yours, that you’ve been using various forms of false identification, or since I entered this bar?” 

He returns your poorly executed question with a barrage of his own, delivered in an even timbre. Chrollo takes a sip from his own glass at your silence. What is there to say? What is there to do? You’ve been caught, trapped in the spider’s web, any forms of struggle fastening you further into his clutches. Squirming underneath his unrelenting stare feels even worse, but you can’t will yourself to remain calm. You know this is what he wants. To make you feel powerless, taking some form of twisted pleasure in your misery. There’d be a tiniest touch of satisfaction in denying him that, yet you can’t even manage that much. 

“I wanted to observe what you’d do, what lengths you’d go to,” Chrollo explains as he taps the rim of his glass, “Now that you’ve had your fun, I believe it’s time to come home.” 

Fun...? Is that what he’d call it? Having to look over your shoulder whenever you went out for basic supplies, the insomnia that haunted you as you feared you might wake to the sight of him watching over you, cutting off contact with everyone you cared for as you feared the repercussions if he found out? There was no fun in the last few miserable months of your life, only anxiety and lament. It took everything you had to escape from Chrollo once. Seeing the light of that victory extinguished is agonizing. 

Chrollo places a smothering hand atop your shaking one. “Though, I do have to admit that I’m quite... disappointed, with you. There’ll be time to discuss that elsewhere.” 

“What makes you think I’ll come with you?” you snap before you can stop yourself, pulling your hand to your chest in disgust. Chrollo doesn’t bother moving his hand. You both know your lack of power in this situation, how every act like that is nothing but an attempt to make you appear stronger than you are. Never before has his surname felt more fitting than now. 

“The same reason why you haven’t tried doing anything since I showed up,” Chrollo closes his eyes, reflecting. His voice drops to a sinister whisper. “You know what’d happen if you did.” 

There are no hidden strategies up your sleeve. No escape route, counter argument, or clever tricks. Your eyes dart around. There are people from every walk of life gathered here, none the wiser to the threat that looms over like a shadow in the night. College students, long time friends reconnecting, workers relaxing after a long week at the job. To Chrollo, they aren’t meaningful people with lives and ambitions, they’re puppets. His Nen is capable of horrors that you wish you could unsee. 

“In that case... what do I do?” Your body is heavy with the burden of defeat. Shoulders slumping, eyelids drooping, and eyes threatening to overflow with tears. 

Chrollo places some bills onto the countertop, money no doubt gained through the pain of others. “I’m glad you asked. There’s a car outside waiting for us.” 

Of course. This wasn’t a chance encounter, or fate spitting at you in disgust. It was meticulously planned and executed by a man who specializes in the art of thievery. You’d expect no less. Sighing, you reach for Chrollo’s drink, that he had sit down in favor of inspecting you. He watches wordlessly as you take it for yourself, chugging the remnants in its entirety. The flush on your face worsens at your actions, but you can’t bother yourself to care. 

It’s only when you place it down with a clink that he comments. “I leave you to your own devices for this short a time and you end up like this? Surely, being with me was better than jumping motel to motel for months on end. You’ve proven you’re incapable of taking care of yourself without my intervention.” 

“It’s because of you that I’m like this,” you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, venom dripping from your every word. “Don’t get the wrong idea.” 

Chrollo simply smiles, standing and motioning for you to join him by his side. For something that’s posed as a choice, it’s lacking the options to truly be one, a single path set ahead of you. Chrollo helps you to your feet, your legs too unstable to function properly. In the moment, you can’t settle on how you feel. Angry with yourself? The rest of the world for not being able to see what’s happening? Exhausted from months of being on the run? You don’t know. You don’t know anything anymore for certain, the room around you steadily becoming a blur. All you know is that it’s all his fault. 

“Whatever helps you feel better about yourself, [First].” 

[starsstruck]

like the sun coming out

part of the cloubusting universe. a continuation of the story of painter!harry and barista!mc. icy february mornings, valentine’s dates, and soft painting sessions. 

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, sexual content words: 9.3k

series masterlist

an: hello and happy valentines day💕  im sorry to be a day late but everyday is valentines if you want it to be <3 i hope this finds you well, this is again, just more sweetness because i cant help it. hope everyone has a wonderful loved fill day, happy reading, and as always let me know what you think 💕💕

You eyed the bouquet sitting by the pastry case. The red of the roses were bright, easily contrasted with the adorning baby’s breath – a classic bouquet that was probably sold out all over town considering the date.

Holding your mug high by your mouth in both hands, warming your cold fingers as you blew lightly over the hot coffee. Standing by the space heater that kept its place under the counter, reveling in the warmth before you had to open the café.

You glanced at your phone that sat on the counter, tapping the screen to check the time. 6:27. You had three minutes. And two minutes since you had last checked, two minutes and still no new text notifications.

Sighing, you leant back over the counter and watched the few cars drive by outside, spending those three minutes you had enjoying your coffee.

Sunday’s were always unpredictable. A lot factored into how busy a shift would be, the weather being the main factor. But then there were holiday’s which for whatever reason were even busier. So working a sunny Valentine’s Day, you could more or less determine that it wouldn’t be long before a line formed out the door. All you could hope was that the line ups would form in the afternoon, when you were free from work.

You weren’t that lucky.

An expected slow start, but as soon as the sun rose higher in the sky you found yourself unable to catch a break. And when Saya came in, it seemed to get even busier. Regulars, big families, couples going for walks – it was all expected but you still felt your mood worsen while your shift went on. It was one of those days, where you’d spill milk and drop cups, a day where nothing seemed to be going right.

The only good thing about a busy day is that time flew by fast. Soon it was just past two o’clock, and you were clocking out while eyeing the newly forming lineup that was officially no longer your concern.

Pulling on your coat, grabbing your bag, and sending one more glance at your phone, before you were heading out the door. There had only been a few notifications – none of them being the one you were waiting to see. You had decided that if Harry didn’t say anything to you by five o’clock, that you would text him again. Or maybe you should call.

You had texted him late last night, unable to sleep before your early shift, and the messages were still left unanswered.

It was only silly little fight, you couldn’t even remember how it had started, just a quiet annoyance. Something about you having to work all week, and suddenly he wasn’t answering your texts. But now it was now nearly twelve hours since it happened and you were growing worried that he was more upset with you than you’d initially thought.

Your walk home was cold, and slow, as exhausted manifested in the balls of your feet. You easily gave in to the overwhelming urge to pull off your boots and slide into bed for a moment as soon as you got home. Your music was still playing in your earbuds, moving it over to your little speaker as you pulled the covers up under your chin and rested your cheek on your pillow. A little lie down was very much needed at the moment. 

A faint buzzing echoed around you.

Consciousness came slowly. You groggily opened your eyes, peering out your window to see the sky still light, meaning your little nap couldn’t have been as long as it felt. You slowly realized that the faint buzzing was coming from your phone, which was likely buried somewhere deep in the duvet around you.

Searching for where the sound was coming from, you found the phone under your pillow as you flipped it up, seeing Harry’s name across the screen.

“Hello,” your voice was a bit shaky, after you had accepted the call and pressed the phone to your ear. Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling and rubbed the back of your hand over your eyes, no doubt smudging the makeup you’d completely forgotten about.

“Did I wake you?” Harry sounded like he was on speakerphone.

“It’s okay,” you cleared your throat.

“How was work?” His voice sounded clearer now.

“Busy,” you sighed. “People are stupid on holidays.”

“Too tired to keep plans for tonight?”

Your lips curved lightly, already feeling better at the lightness in his tone. “Thought you were mad at me.”

“Couldn’t be,” you could hear the smile in his own voice. “I’m sorry – for last night. I’m frustrated with my work and well, I was being petty, and selfish with your time –”

He cut himself off, as you raised yourself up over the mattress again to search for your phone charger.  “Not your fault,” you hummed, after plugging the phone in. “I’m sorry too.”

“Don’t be – can’t be mad at you for doing your job. So it’s a yes for tonight?”

You bit back your smile, even though he couldn’t see you. “Suppose so. It is Valentine’s day, isn’t it?”

“It is, yeah. And I don’t want to give too much away but I have a few things planned for us.”

“Bit of a romantic, aren’t you?”

You heard him laugh through the phone. “Been told that once or twice, yeah.”

Smiling, you bit the inside of your cheek. “What time?”

“Did you still want to lie down for a bit?”

He knew you well. “I can come to yours in an hour or so,” he continued, “and then we can head to the store together to grab some groceries.”

“That sound’s good,” you said, happy to hear you had a little more time to lie in bed.

“So I’ll see you in a bit?” He confirmed, as you checked the time on your phone and thought that maybe you should set an alarm, in case you fell back asleep.

“You will.”

After saying your goodbyes, you spent a few minutes checking your notifications before sleep sneaked back up on you. Another nap that felt like it could’ve been five minutes or five minutes took over your body, but the next time you woke up, you finally felt rested. In fact, you woke up with a smiling tugging at the corner of your mouth, giddy for the night you had planned with your partner.

Rolling onto your back, the calm you felt was quickly interrupted.

“Jesus!”

Your heart leapt through your throat. Quickly lifting your top half over the mattress, you let your weight rest on your elbows as the duvet bunched around you.

Harry was sitting on the other side of your bed, opened book in hand with his legs extended out over the duvet. His eyes were wide on yours, your exclamation clearly startling him as well.

You saw his mouth part, a gleam in his eyes as he peered down at where you were watching him with wide eyes. “Not quite.”

You felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, trying to calm yourself down from the shock of seeing Harry, or anyone else for that matter, sitting in your bed.

He offered you a small smile with a quirk in his lips, placing his book down next to him and cleared his throat. “Didn’t mean to startle you –”

You fell back against the mattress, lying on your back as you stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t anything new – him letting himself into your place. You each had the other’s set of keys, but this was surely a first that he had sat himself down next to you while you slept.

“When did you get here?”

He checked his phone, before glancing back at you. “About ten minutes ago – looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you just yet.”

“Well thank you for that,” you rolled your head on your pillow, smiling up at him. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

Watching as the corner of his lips perked, he returned your sentiment. “Happy Valentine’s to you too,” he hummed, leaning over the small space between the both of you to press a light kiss over your lips.

He wrapped a hand around your shoulders, leaning down to kiss you once more. “Sorry again,” he murmured over your mouth.

You both pulled away with matching small smiles. “Let me go get ready,” murmuring quietly, you slowly pulled the warm comforter off your body. “I’ll be fast.”

Quickly crawling out from under the covers, going to get ready. You freshened up your makeup that had been rubbed off in your sleep, soft hues to accentuate your features as you took a little longer than planned when you attempted a different kind of eye look with your eyeliner.

Finishing with a small outfit change that you had already planned out ahead of time, a red silky skirt that hit just above your ankles, paired with a nice knit pink top that had little ties holding the front closed. You looked like Valentine’s Day had threw up over you and you loved it.

You were both soon exiting your apartment, hand in hand to the grocery store, and then back to his place for a nice dinner date together.

You had already planned on making a creamy quiche, filled with vegetables and a golden buttery crust. The dough had already been made ahead of time, only needing to take it out of the fridge so it could warm up a bit before filling it with all you wanted.

Wine had been poured, both already on your second glass by the time your dinner was in the oven.

Both impatient and wanting to exchange gifts, you sat yourselves down on the couch and handed each other your wrapped presents. Deciding on lowkey gifts, the two of you both having the same idea of gifting each other flowers as two bouquets now sat in vases on Harry’s windowsill.

He had gifted you a journal, thick paper bound together with a custom cover of his own art that he had gotten printed on a soft vellum. It was one your favourite painting of his, soft oranges that blended with light purples in a beautiful sun kissed sky. Vague outline of two silhouettes sat on the lower corner, two figures that blended with quiet blues and held each other close on a glowing empty street – two silhouettes who he always told you were the both of you.

Your gift to him was a thick light blue sweater, adorned with a small pattern of purple hearts over the front. You had immediately thought of him when you found it. Wanting to make it even more special, in orange thread you had embroidered the word “loved” right over the spot that would rest on his heart. He’d immediately pulled it over his head to wear.

Dinner had been followed by chocolate covered strawberries, those of which you had attempted to make yourself but had found to be not as easy as initially thought, a small mess of melted chocolate covering his kitchen counter to be delt with later. But that didn’t matter all that much not when you were sharing them with Harry.

Now you were both seated on the couch, a soft glow of candlelight around you mixed with the light coming from outside. You and Harry were curled up close together, both unable to stop looking at each other with heart shaped eyes.

“I’ve never really had a real Valentine’s day,” you’d told him, pouring yourself another glass of wine.

“Glad I could give you one,” he grinned at you, voice sounding melodic in your ears as couldn’t take your eyes off him. He looked particular good, his hair falling softly around his sharp features, brand new seater fitting perfectly over his chest. “Though I think it’s you who makes it special.”

You only laughed lightly, both the wine and his words making your head spin. You were sat across from each other on the couch knees pressed together with the occasional brush of a hand over the other’s leg, like two magnets who had to touch each other.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he chuckled with his eyes narrowed on yours.

“Like what?”

“You know like what,” he swirled the rest of the wine that sat in his glass, tilting it back against his lips to swallow the rest of it.

Choosing not to answer him, you instead leant forward closer to him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped down to the expand of skin that led to the lowcut neckline of your shirt.

He mirrored you move, sitting forward and slowly closing the distance between the both of you. Your eyes dropped to his hand that had gone to rest over your knee, not thinking much as you rested your fingertips over his and traced the lines over his hand.

“I was thinking,” he hummed, hand dancing over your thigh.

You only nodded, watching him closely as you waited for him to continue.

“Remember our first date?”

You raised your glass to take a sip of the dark red alcohol. “Course I do,” you answered. “When you invited me over to paint?”

Harry nodded. Lifting an arm to rest over the back of the couch, you subconsciously shifted closer into his open side. “What do you say to doing that again?”

“You want to paint with me again?” You nudged his side with your elbow, a light teasing tone in your words. “With your muse?”

“I’m serious,” he laughed with a small shake in his chest. He rose from where he was sat next to you, going over to the corner of the room where he kept his boxes and drawers of supplies.

You rose from your relaxed position, sitting up straight on the couch. “You mean right now?”

He glanced over at you from over his shoulder, digging through his things for what he needed. “Why not?”

“Clothes are too nice to get paint on,” you laughed lightly, watching him pull out a small canvas and fully turn to face you.

“You don’t have to paint,” he murmured, walking back over to you and leaned down so that his face was at level with yours. “How about I paint you,” he pressed his lips to yours, “since y’look so pretty.”

“Sweet talker,” you hummed over his mouth, and he pressed one more peck to your lips before pulling away. “Where do you want me?”

“Where you are is good,” he shifted back from the couch, settling a short distance away from you with all he needed to paint. “Sit back – relax.”

Doing as he said, you watched as he got himself organized and was soon bending over a little blank canvas and laying colour reds and pinks all over it.

You were both quiet for a while – you watching him, and him dividing his time between watching you and the soft strokes of his brush over the canvas. Only the quiet hums of Vashti Bunyan filled the space of the room.

At one point, sweet soft little Cherry had bounced up onto the couch and sat with you for a moment as you covered her in affection, before she decided she didn’t want to be seen anymore and promptly left.

You had fallen into a small daze, not a tired one but a relaxed one, nearly entranced by the way Harry moved the brush so swiftly and delicately over the canvas.

After a while, you didn’t know how long, he murmured your name, head still looking down as he spoke lowly.

Only humming in response, you looked over at him as you watched his eyes flick up to yours.

“Skirts riding up a bit,” he spoke slowly, watching you with a gleam in his eyes.

“Oops,” you murmured quietly, “didn’t want me to move that much, right?”

He shook is head. “Don’t mind –” he shot you a sly little smile, and it could’ve just been the dim lighting but you were sure to have caught a little blush grace his cheeks.

You shifted your legs again, sliding your calves under your bum with a tilt to your torso, as the hem of the skirt rode up a bit higher. You saw Harry glance back down, as you were unable to help the teasing tone in your voice. “What is it?”

“Just distracting is all,” he didn’t look up at you but you could see the roundness in his cheeks that suggested his grin.

“Yeah?” You spoke lightly, moving again while you rose a hand to tug on one of the ties at the top of your blouse, pulling it open to reveal more of your chest. “Wouldn’t want that –”

He glanced at you as you cut yourself off, a short second of heavy eyes on you, following the gap that the fabric created with a dip down to the top of your breasts. You saw him pause, momentarily distracted before he looked back down to his painting with a shake to his head.

It was like that for a short while, a slow quiet game as Harry took longer and longer glances at you and you slowly teased him with soft movements. It was nearly embarrassing how easily you could get worked up over a simple stare, the intensity of his gaze that skimmed over your body always seemed to completely light you on fire.

Though it was him who gave in first, the painting not going nearly as smoothly as it was when he first started as he felt unable to think clearly, mind only occupied with thoughts of you. He found himself focusing on the curve of your lips, the dip of your chest, the way your eyes softened when his gaze met yours – he was unable to do anything but think about you.

Eventually, he placed his brush in his little cup of water, glancing back up at you for a beat before speaking. “D’you know what else I remember from our first date?”

Seeing him rise to his feet, he stretched out his legs before taking the few steps needed to be standing directly in front of you. You only looked up at him, tilting your chin up and watched him hover in front of you. He leant down and placed a hand on either side of you, palms dipping into the couch cushions.

When he leant lower so that his face was level with yours, you straightened out your spine a bit to sit completely parallel to him. He got impossibly close, tip of his nose about to brush over yours if you were to move half an inch.

“What else?” You whispered, watching as Harry flicked his eyes down to watch your mouth form the words.

“How it ended,” he closed the short distance, lips pressing over yours as when he spoke.

“You walking me home?” You pulled your head back an inch, eyes meeting his once again.

“Hmm,” he thought for a second. “The middle then.”

“May have to jog my memory,” you murmured, watching his lips curve up a bit before placing another kiss to your mouth.

You easily deepened the kiss, reaching a hand around him to grab over the back of his neck to pull him in for more. He remained hovering over you with his hands over the couch, mouths parting when you licked over his lips.

He tasted like the strawberries you had shared, a fruity sweetness mixed with the slightly bitter dark chocolate. You were sure you tasted the same – you wondered if you had a distinct taste that mingled with his when you kissed. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his neck to brush your fingertips over the warm skin.

He leant into your touch, shifting closer in so that his face could be at level with your own. He easily deepened the kiss, one hand rising from where it was supporting him and cupped your cheek with a firm grip to tilt your chin up to his.

“Mm,” he hummed softly over your mouth, pulling away from you for a beat. He bent his knees and sank down to the floor in front of you, and you followed his movements with your own, head tilting down to remain at level with his.

“Started a bit like this, didn’t it?” Your lips perked at his words, feeling his other hand move up over the couch and onto your hip, hands freed to grab at you all he wanted now that he didn’t need to support himself up.

“Think I need a little more to remember,” you told him, feeling his fingers knead over the silky fabric of your skirt and into your rounded skin.

He gladly complied, craning his neck up so that your mouths could reconnect.

You felt hot under his touch. His thumb was tracing the soft line of your jaw until it was gliding the curve of your bottom lip, while his other hand circled around the small of you back and tugged you closer towards the end of the couch, closer to him.

You sighed affectionately into his mouth as he rested his forearms over your folded legs. He was pressing his weight over you, a welcomed touch that had you leaning in closer as you sought out more of his mouth.

Pulling away with a small suck over his bottom lip, you watched his eyelids slowly part open to gaze up at you with darkened eyes.

“Wait right here,” he muttered, suddenly standing up and walking away from you with a quick pace in his step. You watched him move to the kitchen, the expanse of his back was the only thing visible to you from around the corner. You heard him run the tap for a moment before turning it off, and he was back in front of you just as fast. Settling himself back on his knees between your parted legs, his hands wasted no time before feeling your bare skin once more.

You suddenly felt a flush overtake your body, at the realization of what he had just done. At the realization that he had just washed the paint from his hands.

“Are you done painting for now?” You rose one of your hands up and traced the line of his cheek as you spoke, fingertips rising to push back some of the hair that was falling over his forehead.

“Well, you are a pretty convincing distraction, sunshine,” he kissed over your chin, urging you to tilt your head up while his lips slipped down your neck. His wet mouth suckled over your skin, while one of his hands traipsed over your hips, doing his best to wrap his arm around them to tug you closer.

He suddenly pulled away, just as his teeth nipped at the skin above your collarbone while his hot breath warmed your chest. “I think that first time was,” he muttered, head hanging low between your two bodies, watching his hands flatten over your thighs. He squeezed your knee, urging you to unfold your legs and part them around him. “More like this.”

You did as he silently asked, bringing your legs out from under your bum and swung your claves over the edge of the couch. With your knees perfectly parted, Harry easily stayed where he was in front of you now encased between your legs.

Instead of skimming his hands over the fabric of your skirt like you thought he would, he instead rested his chin on the corner of your leg and brought his fingers up over the waistband and on to the skin that was hidden under your shirt. You watched in quiet anticipation as he raised the knit blouse up a bit higher, all while his breath heated your legs.

“You’re the sweetest thing, know that?” Harry murmured, twisting his head so that his lips could smooth over the spot above your knee.

You whined under his touch, feeling his mouth press higher on the inside of your thighs while your skirt slowly inched up, nearly completely exposing you.  

You placed your palms on the back of his hands that held your waist, grabbing a hold of his fingers to bring them lower down your body. He easily complied, gripping the silky fabric that covered your hips in his fingers as he slowly eased it up higher. He followed the hem of your skirt with his eyes, as more and more skin got exposed to him until the fabric was completely bunched up around the edge of your thighs.

You shifted over the couch, allowing the garment to move past your bum until it was bunched just bellow your waist. You didn’t move your eyes away from Harry, watching as his hands dropped to hold your bare thighs, his own eyes glued to your newly exposed centre.

“Sunshine,” his voice was breathless as his hands held the skirt over your form. “What’s all this?”

“It’s new,” you whispered, revelling in the way his warm hands moved over the curve of your hips and onto the delicate underwear that covered you. You keened into his touch, feeling hot under his hungry eyes. “Thought of you when I found it –”

He groaned low in his throat, one hand sliding around your soft skin until his fingers were brushing over the thin straps around your hips “Baby,” he said lowly, watching the way the swell of the skin moved under his touch. “For me?”

The underwear was a light blue mesh fabric, with thin straps that rose high over your hips and tied shut with little bows. In small patterns that covered the expanse of the front, was a delicate embroidery in light whites and oranges; a trail of white little flowers paired with bunches of oranges.

You bent forward, searching for his mouth as your fingers lightly held his jaw to move him closer to where you wanted him. He craned his neck up, mouth immediately finding yours, kissing you hotly while his hands roamed over your skin.

“Please tell me there’s a matching top,” he muttered into your mouth, fingers tugging at your blouse.

You placed your hands over his, promptly removing your shirt. He pulled back from you, sitting on his heals, watching you with heavy eyes while you pulled the soft fabric over your head and tossed it aside.

His hands remained firm over your hips, eyes eating up inch of your skin. He quietly dragged his fingertips up your sides, dragging them up onto the underside of your breasts as he watched the swell of skin move under his touch.

“Like it?” You hummed, meeting his dark eyes with a tilt of your chin.

The top matched the bottom, underwire of the bra keeping your breasts up as the cups were thin and sheer, covered in the same small colourful embroidered of oranges and flowers. Harry lightly traced the patterns with his fingertips, wanting to feel every inch of the bra.

He didn’t answer you, and only leaned in closer so that he could press his lips over your stomach, soft smoothing movements up to your sternum while his hands palmed over your breasts. He followed the embroidered detailing over your pebbled nipple with light teasing touches.

“You’re a dream,” his hot beath sent a shiver down your spine, lips smoothing back down once more as his hands got a firm grip over your thighs.  “Nothing I love more –” he inhaled deeply, “than being between your leg like this.”

He completely bypassed where you hoped he would end up, instead kissing up over the inside of your legs, hands smoothing on your thighs to give him more access. He dug his digits into the soft skin, lips replacing his touch as hot open-mouthed kisses licked over the sensitive spots.

You knew where he was headed, you knew he loved to play this game with you, but you were growing a bit impatient as he sucked into the inside of your thighs, no doubt leaving marks that would bruise a purplish red tomorrow.

“Baby-“

“Baby what?” He muttered over your thigh, loud kiss on the skin. “What d’you want? Tell me,” his tongue licked over your skin, a small nip of his teeth over the sensitive skin.

“Your mouth,” you whimpered, hands smoothing over his the crook of his shoulder and up over his neck in search for his hair to tug on.

“Where?” His breath was oh so hot, fanning over your skin in a way that you were sure would light you on fire if he continued. His fingertips toyed with the thin fabric that covered you, snapping the elastic over your skin as your breath hitched in your throat.

“You know –” you choked, feeling a new wave of heat shoot through your stomach when his hands wrapped around your thighs. “Just like our first date, right?”

“Right,” his chest shook with a soundless laugh, hands reaching behind to hold over your bum and tugging you even closer to him. He was so close you could feel the soft breaths of air leave his nose and tickle the crest of your thighs. You were sure that there was a wet spot forming over your new underwear, visible to the man between your thighs. “Want me to taste you, just like the first time?”

You hummed in the air, unable to form a proper sentence when his tongue poked out from his lips and he pressed it flat against your covered core.

“Was that,” he pulled his mouth away far to fast, “when you knew?”

His fingers were tugging at the soft straps that were tight around your hips, easing the fabric down ever so slowly. You let out a breathy sigh, “what?”

Moving his head back, Harry kept his eyes glued to the skin his fingers were uncovering. “Was that when you knew you liked me?”

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, as you rose your hips up so that he could ease the flimsy material down your thighs. “That wasn’t it.”

He was so enthralled with the sight of you in front of him, that there was a slight lag while he processed your words. Moving back as your underwear hung just above your knees, glancing up to meet your gaze through heavy eyelids.

His swollen lips pouted. “When was it, then?”

Smiling down at your lover, your fingers found their way over his cheek once again, trailing over the curve of his cheekbone and down to his jaw. “When you kept bugging me at work,” you laughed slightly at the memory, “and when you wanted to stay and close the shop with me.”

Another kiss to your thigh. “And I really knew when you brought me those mandarin oranges.”

His eyes bore into yours, another exaggerated pout of his mouth. “That was after.”

“Well,” you hummed, nails scratching over his scalp, “had to make sure, didn’t I?”

“Guess you did,” he leant in even closer, a kiss right at the crest of your thigh that had your breath hitching in your throat.

You saw him move, but it was still a small shock when his mouth was felt over your folds. After a light lick of his tongue, he was pulling away within seconds.

He urged your legs to further part for him, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull to spread you wider. His mouth was back on you within seconds, tongue pushing against your clit with slow licks over the sensitive nub.

Mouth widening over your centre, tasting more of your arousal. A quiet moan escaped your mouth when he circled his lips over your clit, sucking with quiet determination.  

He had one hand gripping into your thigh, sure to be little crescent moon shapes left behind from his nails that would be indented as a reminder for how good he makes you feel. You let your head fall back, hitting the back of the couch with a near uncomfortable bend to your back, but you didn’t care. One of your hands was still mussing up his hair, tugging at the soft strands when his mouth felt particularly good against your clit.

Your other hand was being blindly sought after by Harry’s own palm, eyes glanced up through his eyelashes to meet your own with a sly smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. He seemed to wordlessly speaking to you, quiet lustful gazes before delving back in with slow, teasing movements through your folds.

His palm fit over the back of your hand. He held over you, moving your pliable hand to turn it in his grasp, fingers dancing with yours all while you both pushed into the seat of the couch.

“Hold m’hand,” his voice was muffled over your cunt, soft vibrations shooting up your spine both at the feeling of him speaking and the tenderness of his words.

You easily interlocked your fingers, palms pressed together as you dug your nails in the back of his hand when his tongue was back searching for the arousal that was dripping over your skin.

His moves into your cunt were slow, too slow. Tongue flattening over your folds with deep pushes into you, before soft teasing circles were graced over your clit. You were arching your back over the couch, hips seeking his mouth as you quietly begged for more. He alternated between pushing just over the entrance of your hole, sliding through the wet mess and up to your clit to pull beautiful moans from you.

“Taste so sweet,” his groaned, as you whimpered for more. “D’you like it when I eat your sweet little cunt like this?”

You rolled your hips up at his words. He often muttered sweet confessions of love, and dirty little thoughts. But when he got like this, when his words turned you to a mess of a puddle while he indulged the both of you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting under him.

The two of you had a certain kind of completeness when you had sex – a passionate unity that worked together. He would let you take charge when you wanted, so attentive to what you needed and loving nothing more than seeing you get off.

But sometimes you set off a certain stir deep in his stomach, that had him wanting to pin you down and be as unrelenting as he could until you were screaming his name.

His desire grew the louder you got, the desire to make you come and the desire for you¸ as simple as that. Every sweet vibration through your chest, every quiet whimper and every call of his name that you unashamedly whimpered out. He knew the more he teased the more desperate you’d get, and he also knew it wouldn’t take much asking on your part for him to give in to anything you wanted.

After a particularly harsh tug to his hair, he lifted his mouth from where it was paying you attention and you let out an even louder whine in the absence of his touch.  

“Harry,” you moaned sweetly, your eyes boring into his, both holding intense stares while you were positively begging for him. “Please make me come.”

His lips brushed over your thigh once again, looking up at you through his eyelashes as you pleaded for him to touch you. He didn’t say anything, and instead dragged his free hand around your thigh and to your centre, until he had two fingers dragged through the wetness created both by your arousal and his saliva.

You let out a heavy breath at the touch, chest quickly rising and falling while your heartbeat thundered in your ears. Harry watched as the swell of your breasts strained against the soft blue fabric, pausing for a moment as he wanted to keep your fingers interlocked but also wanted to feel up the skin of your chest.

Deciding on the former, he kept your hands together and pressed the back of your hand further into the cushions of the couch. His other hand was trailing lower, his fingers now slick with you around your entrance before he pushed into you with ease.

You moaned under his touch, the fullness of his fingers inside of you had you twisting your hips over the couch as you ached to feel him hit that delicious spot inside of you.

His mouth was back over the inside of your thighs, your skin burning under his touch when he kissed over the little red marks that he had earlier made, just as they were starting to darken in colour. He was all over you at once open lips back over your clit and licking deeply with determined moves of his tongue over you. His fingers slowly began to move inside of you, curling the two digits up as he gained a steady pace and repeatedly hit that smooth spongey spot inside of you that made your vision blur and your toes curl.

You were having trouble keeping your eyes open, letting your head fall back once more as your free hand pulled at his hair, subconsciously matching the brushes of your hand with his slow strokes. Your other hand was pulling at Harry’s, squeezing it so tightly as he was working you up.

The familiar burning in your lower belly was growing hotter and hotter, tight coil getting closer to snapping. You could feel his nose pressed against your pelvis, his chin bumping his own fingers after particularly harsh thrusts – he was completely buried between your thighs. You were sure to be making a mess over his lower face, the thought making you squirm even more in his touch.

Letting out a loud gasp at the low vibrations that were felt when Harry moaned, when he muttered quiet words that demanded all of your attention to figure out what he was saying.

“This what you wanted, sunshine?” He pulled his lips away, loud kisses over your thighs as he watched you slowly unravel under him, refusing to keep his mouth off any part of you.

He couldn’t choose where he wanted to keep his gaze. At your soft blissed out face with your lips under your teeth and fluttering eyelids, or at the expanse of your chest with the beautiful garment that graced your skin, or right in front of him at your swollen cunt that was shining in arousal and at the way his fingers sank into of you.

The music was still softly playing the background, a quiet secondary noise to every melodic moan that was sounding from your throat, the music in fact all but forgotten when obscenely wet sounds filled the space once more.

“Oh – Harry,” you moaned when his tongue was back over you, knowing you were growing closer to your release from the way you clenched around his fingers.

“Feels good?” He asked, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

You whined with a nod, holding onto him as tightly as you could. “So good – fuck,” you moaned, hips bucking up when your climax was right around the corner. Words were spilling from your mouth, sentences jumbling without much sense. “Love you so –”

He hummed over you, his hand giving yours a few quick squeezes as he felt you clench around his fingers. Again, he murmured something that you couldn’t even begin to make out, focusing on his touch rather than his words.

“Y’love me?” His voice rang through yours ear, suddenly louder than your thundering heartbeat.

“Yeah,” your voice was a dreamy breath of air. “I do.”

He mumbled something that sounded like a “fucking love you,” before you were meeting your release against his mouth and around his fingers. He didn’t relent, mouth hot and open over you with continuous tugs to your clit as his fingers pushed so deeply inside of you.

You moaned low in your chest as you came, every touch of his skin on yours sending electricity through your nerves. Your legs jolted from around him at the sensitivity of your clit, as he kept sliding his tongue over the bundle of nerves while you calmed down from your orgasm.

Eyes parting open, you saw Harry pull away from between your legs as he fully sat back on his legs and withdrew his fingers from you. With his fingertips trailing down your thighs, he rose his slicked fingers up to his mouth to taste every last bit of you.

Your breath was coming out unevenly, and you nearly moaned at the erotic sight before you. His wet lips kissed your knee once more, his voice was low, laced with desire when he spoke your name. “How was that?”

You didn’t answer right away, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook with a happy laugh. Pushing yourself up from the couch, you used all the strength in your shaky legs to slide off the furniture and into the lap of your lover.  

“Just like the first time,” you breathed, words fanning over his chin as he easily held you in an embrace.

He felt like he was losing feeling in his legs, small soreness in his knees so he shifted you over him until he was able to extend his legs out over the floor and you could straddle his thighs. Completely removing the skirt, you tossed it aside as you were left in only your lingerie. Upon his request, you had slid your underwear back on instead of letting it fall to the floor. He hummed against you when you easily fell back into each other, lips seeking your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss.

Slowly grinding your hips over his, every inch of him hard underneath you could be felt. Harry rolled his head back on his neck, exposing the expanse of skin to you as you repeated the motion over his hips.

Taking the chance to lean in closer, your lips landed over his neck in light sucks of kisses. “Love you,” he whispered into the air, fingertips digging into the skin of your waist.

“Yeah?” You hummed over his skin, licking a strip up the column of his neck. One of your hands danced along his throat, tracing down until your fingers were following the dip of his collarbone and circling around his back. “Do you?”

“You have no idea,” he breathed, chin dipping down once again as his nose nudged yours when he sought out your lips.

Leaving kiss up over his cheek, you didn’t stop until your teeth lightly tugged at his earlobe. “How do you want me?”

You felt his hands brush along your bare back, slow and steady movements that juxtaposed with both of your rapidly beating hearts.

“Pull me out, angel,” he already felt your hands playing with the waistband of his pants, soft tugs at the rough fabric.

As your fingers made quick work to pull at the zipper of his trousers, he momentarily lifted his hands from your body so that he could pull his shirt up over his head. His skin was warm when he wrapped his arms around once again, shifting his hips so that you could move his pants and briefs down together in one swift move.

Having to lift off him so that you could completely let the clothes fall from his legs, you pushed the heap of fabric aside before quickly settling back into his lap. His cock looked painfully hard, a soft curve upwards that led to his raspberry red tip.

Your hands were on him within seconds, bowing your head in the small space between the two of you. Pursing your lips, you let spit fall from your mouth and onto his length. Sliding your hands over the wetness, Harry gently groaned your name with a tight grab at your hips when you squeezed him in your grasp.

“Please,” he quietly cursed, watching you with darkened eyes as another moan tumbled from his mouth. “Wanna feel you –”

You pressed a kiss over his cupid’s bow. “Like this?” You smiled gently against his mouth, “on the floor?”

He returned your smile hands on either side of you as he tried to pull you closer to where he wanted you sat over him. “Just like our first date, yeah?”

Breathy laugh at his words, you slowly nodded and shifted your hips higher. You were about to grab at the elastics of your underwear, going to pull them back down over your hips but Harry was quick to stop you. “Keep ‘em on,” he whispered, silly little smirk playing at his lips, “just push them aside.”

Folding your lips into your mouth, you bit back a smile as you knew he’d ask you to keep the bra on as well. Doing as he wanted, you rose a hand from his shoulder to pull the front of your underwear to the side, with the other hand still keeping a firm grasp over his cock. He was supporting himself up with on hand on the floor behind him, so that he could remain so close to you. His legs bent at the knee, making you edge towards him with your chests nearly pressed together, and the soft move prompted you to slide the head of his cock through your folds.

Easing him in with a slow move, you lowered your hips as he filled you so deeply until you were sat completely flush together. His chest shook with a moan as you did so, hands squeezing into your thighs as you both sat motionless for a moment.

He fit so deeply into you, with the slight stretch that always felt brand new. You rose your hands to wrap around his shoulders, nails nearly clawing at his skin to pull him in for a kiss.

“You feel perfect,” he moaned against your mouth, guiding your hips to urge you to move in small grinds over his. “Squeezing me so tight.”

With you both sat upright, he always felt even deeper inside of you in this position. You ground your hips in slow circles, starting to move in teasing grinds, before lifting yourself up over him and then back down in a sharper thrust than you’d intended.

You moaned over him, head falling into the crook of his neck as you muttered something about how deep he felt inside of you.

Repeating the motion, Harry planted his feet over the floor with an even greater bend to his legs that had your seated so fully against him. He met your moves, slow and sharp thrusts between your legs that already had you working towards a second orgasm.

One of his hands skimmed over your hips, sliding between your bodies with as his fingers applied a light pressure to your lower belly. His voice was gravelly when he moaned into your cheek. “Feel me right here?”

“Yeah,” you sighed dreamily, eyes shutting close with a harsh bite to your bottom lip. You tilted your head back up, another deep thrust inside of you. “Always so deep.”

Harry’s hand found its way to your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing gentle action. He quietly urged you to open your eyes for him, to stare into his as he wanted you to see how good you were making him feel.

You saw him with slightly bloodshot eyes, cheeks tinted pink and a light dewiness to his skin. He looked so completely blissed out, corner of his swollen lips turned to a sly smile. Bowing his head down, he attached his lips to your collarbone and left a trail of wet marks over your skin until his teeth were nipping at the swell of your breasts that were spilling out from the top of your bra.

Arching your back in his touch, you slowed the movements of your hips again and went back slow rutting, clenching around him when he whined your name with a matching squeeze of his hand that had found its hold on your hip once more.

Without much warning, he lowered himself to lay completely on the floor, back resting over the soft rug as he didn’t have the energy to hold himself up any longer. He let his knees bent further with his feet on the floor, keeping you in your place as he was able to hit slow teasing thrusts up into you.

His eyes never left you, watching you sat so beautifully as both his hands now grabbed at your hips, guiding you over him. He found it hard to look away from where you were connected, watching his slick cock disappear inside of you. “So gorgeous, sunshine,” he was muttered quietly, “how did I get so lucky?”

Both of your motions were speeding up again, his thrusts meeting yours harder than before as he found that his release was coming right around the corner. He reveled in the way his name sounded from your mouth, as you clenched tightly around him with your own orgasm seeming to approach as well.

You had flattened out your hands over the expanse of his chest, giving yourself leverage while you moved over his length. Your head hung low, nails digging into his skin when he hit that spot inside of you that made your breathing falter. “Oh…!” You whimpered wetly, “there, there please.”

His stomach clenched tightly at your cries, feeling you squeeze around him his fingers matched the squeeze around your hips. He kept going, watching you fall more and more into a whimpering mess over him until he felt like he was about to explode.

“Slow down,” he choked, a harsh hold of your thighs in an attempt to stop your rapid moves. “Slow down,” he chanted, wild moves of his eyes between your own. “Stay like this for a moment.”

Doing as he asked, you completely halted and gave yourself a moment to catch your breath. Bending down, you laid completely on top of him which gave a nice ease to your knees. Pressing your chest flush to his, your chins bumped as you smiled down at him.

He didn’t miss any more time before pressing his sweet lips over yours, kissing you with all the desire that was apparent in his eyes. Your lips parted as he pushed his tongue against yours, tasting each other for what was probably the thousandth time but it always felt like the first.

Your arms were easily all over him, nails digging into the muscles of his arms as he kissed you deeply. He pulled back with a tug to your bottom lip with his teeth, licking over the sensitive skin after releasing the plump skin.

“My sunshine,” he hummed, lips capturing your chin as he moved further down your body. Kissing over your jaw, a soft bit over just under your earlobe as he knew every spot that made you whine.

With his hands guiding your hips, you slowly began to move around him once more. Straightening out your spine to rise to a seated position, you watched as one of Harry’s hands moved forward to cup over your core, right above where you were connected.

“Won’t last much longer,” he whimpered, already working right back near his edge as soon as you started sinking back down on him.

You moaned in agreement, also easily getting worked closer to your release when he dragged his fingers over your clit in quick circles. You were both finding another steady rhythm, hips pumping together as the noise of your actions filled the room, only seeming to spur you on.

“Please come for me again,” he moaned, begging to feel you squeeze him dry. “Wanna feel you – please.”

It was like something was opened inside of you, meeting your release as he begged from under you. Moaning his name with heaving breaths, feeling your walls clench around him when your orgasm took over your body. Your thighs tensed, eyes squeezing shut with a little smile painting your mouth at the euphoria coursing through your body.

“Fuck – it’s gonna be,” your movements had slowed over him as you came, while Harry spluttered nearly incoherently, “– I’m coming.” He warned, a sharp thrust up into you before he was painting your walls with his release. Sloppy thrusts inside of you while pulling at your hips, grabbing over the small of your back to hug you close while calling your name over and over like it was a song that was stuck in his head.

Your chest fell over his with a heaviness that neither of you minded, revelling the complete closeness you had to the other in that moment. His chest was rising and falling with quick breaths, lips over your hairline as he peppered the lightest of kisses laced with praises for you.

Eventually, you lifted your upper half and parted your eyes to gaze down at the man below you. Pressing your mouth over his, you felt him smile under your touch as you murmured a soft, “happy Valentine’s Day.”

His own eyes parted, watching you with nothing but love his in softened eyes, as you pressed another whisper to his mouth. “Thank you for being my Valentine.”

You’d always felt comfortable with Harry, but for some reason at this moment you felt better than you ever had with him. The way he looked at you like you hung the moon, the way he softly whispered your name as his lips sought to touch any part of you.

Harry returned the affection, quiet “I love you’s” pressed into your skin before you were moving off of him with shaky legs.

He followed when you rose to your feet, the painting long forgotten by now as you both went to the washroom to get cleaned up. Your makeup had been ruined once more, eyeliner smudged by your teary eyes so you ended up scrubbing it all off, completely your skincare before changing into a cozy stolen hoodie and settled into your partner’s bed.

Harry soon joined, only in a pair of sweatpants and the forgotten chocolates from earlier in hand. He settled in under the covers with you, as you both shared chocolates and chocolate flavoured kisses.

“How about you,” you started with a quiet murmur as your head rested over Harry’s shoulder. The chocolates were on your lap, one of Harry’s arms around you as peered down at you. “When did you know you liked me?”

You saw Harry’s lips perk from the corner of your eye. He thought it over for barely a second, before answering. “Is it too cheesy to say the first time I saw you?”

Nodding your head with a little laugh, although you melted further into him at the tenderness of his words. “Yes, it is too cheesy.”

“Fine,” his lips pursed with an overly dramatic pout, and he took another minute to think. “When I ran into you at the supermarket that one evening,” he thought back to the memory, “I remember seeing you choosing your vegetables like it was the most important decision of your life.”

You tilted your face, easily finding his lips to press a light little kiss to. “Well, maybe it was,” you whispered playfully, as he leant into your mouth when you pulled away.

Resting your temple of the curve of his shoulder once more, you kept your eyes trained on him. Harry held your gaze, mumbling quietly as his hands squeezed your arm. “You’re still looking at me like that.”

You batted your eyelashes up at him, unable to help the way your pupils were probably heart shaped at the moment. “Like what?”

“You know like what.”

Your smile deepened. “Can’t help it.”

Sighing happily next to him, you melted a bit more into his side as he held you closer. His lips smoothed over the top of your head, mumbling sweetly, “me neither, sunshine.”

Once again, the sweet little act of painting had led to something magical, a feeling of blissful joy you’d never thought possible until Harry came along.

once again, happy valentines to everyone 💕 thank you for reading 💕

[peach-pops]

Amorentia || Kuroo Tetsurō

summary: amorentia has a different scent or aroma for anyone who smells it and the potion, if done correctly, can remind the user of things or more specifically someone they find most attractive, even if the said person is oblivious in their attraction. 

word count: 3.1k

warnings: none 

authors note: i dont know why i always end up writing for kuroo but this dude just speaks to me on an inspirational level ya know? kuroo is a ravenclaw in this but the reader is gn and i didn’t specify what house the reader is in to make it a bit more inclusive. credits to @rhymewithrachel​ for the picture of kuroo which you can find here and pls check out their page for more amazing art! also i def feel like i’ve written the last few lines on like another piece i’ve done but oh well if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it

The library was eerily still for a Thursday morning but you relished in how quiet it was. You had found the perfect sweet spot; not too late where you would forget breakfast but early enough to where you would avoid the morning rush of students who would try to find a quiet spot to study. 

The lowly lit lanterns were useless since the sun was beginning to peak its way through the windowpane behind you and the small semblance of light drew your attention to the dust that was floating lazily in the air.

Even though there were hardly any students around you, you felt as though you were tucked away from the world as you spread your legs out against the leather couch with a Magic Potions: Basic for Beginners textbook settled in your lap. Besides the ever so often sound of a few students rustling their papers, it was truly peaceful. 

“ Good morning beautiful, mind if I join you?” 

Bloody hell. 

You looked up from your textbook to see Kuroo standing over by your legs that were neatly crossed over each other. You would be lying if you said you weren’t slightly taken aback by seeing him so early in the morning but even if he did manage to wake up on time for class, his hair was still a disheveled mess from his horrid bedhead. 

“ You’re up early,” You replied normally as you turned your attention back to your book,” by the way, your tie is crooked, might want to fix that, yeah?” 

You and Kuroo were both in the same year but you two didn’t officially get acquainted until your fourth year when he had “accidentally” spilled butterbeer all over you and then attempted to wipe it off with his bare hand. 

“ Shit, I-I am so sorry! Let me just-”

“ Can you stop feeling me up and get me a napkin instead, you creep?” 

“ A creep? I’m nothing short of a gentleman- speaking of which, are you dating anyone by chance?” 

“ Are you joking? As if I would be under the accompaniment of a clumsy Ravenclaw like yourself.” 

Your vow was fully ignored and by some weird alignment of the planets, you two had been inseparable since. Of course, Kuroo still spent his time over the past two years trying to woe you in some way and while you used to find yourself flustered over his charm, you managed to get used to the constant flirting between the two of you. 

Who were you kidding, the flirting was mostly one-sided unless you weren’t exhausted trying to think of witty comebacks to try and get him stumbling over his words like the first time you two met. 

However, you weren’t blind. You were bold enough to admit to yourself that over the years, Kuroo got progressively wittier, taller, and yes, possibly more attractive. You would never admit it out loud but there was a slight possibility you were starting to see him in a different light.

Nonetheless, you figured feelings like those would just come and go, and surely you didn’t actually have feelings for him. 

Kuroo looked down at his tie and shrugged nonchalantly before fixing it,” I was tossing and turning all night, poor Akaashi had to sleep in the common room because I was keeping him up too. Quidditch tryouts are this afternoon and I’m hoping we can get a strong team together so we can keep up our legacy.”

“ First-year as captain and you’re already nervous,” You clicked your tongue against your teeth as you took another bite of your raspberry scone, utilizing the silence between the two of you as you finished chewing,” hopefully Ravenclaw will get some wins this year. You know, for your own sake and my sanity.” 

“ Okay ouch, first of all, you know you’re not supposed to eat in the library it’s forbidden,” Kuroo crossed his arms playfully over his chest as you only hummed in response,” and second of all, maybe if I had someone special cheering me on, I would do immensely better.”  

You knew he was only being smug since you always showed up to his games but nothing was more entertaining than watching Kuroo practically gush over Quidditch only for you to act somewhat disinterested. 

“ Aw, do you want me to show up with some blue and bronze paint over my face? Maybe even bring a poster with your name on it with little hearts decorated on the border because I have sooo much free time on my hands?” You teased as you played with your hair while pouting back up at him, relishing in the way he shifted from side to side,” honestly Kuroo, you know I have better things to do than to watch you fly around like a lunatic.” 

Kuroo smirked to himself but said nothing to retaliate as he offered his hands to help you out of your seat once he saw the time,” Come on, you know Slughorn will throw another fit if we’re late again and by the looks of it, you can’t afford falling behind.” 

For a moment, you thought that maybe you had gone too far. His response was almost disappointing in contrast to how he would usually retort with something wittier of the sort but it was out of your control now. 

You closed your textbook and grabbed Kuroo’s hands so he could help you off the leather couch but once he got you up to your feet, his strong grip on your hands didn’t release. 

Your chests were almost touching and the distance between you two was so small, you could distinctively smell his signature vanilla aftershave that he put on every morning. You looked down at your hands that were fitted perfectly against his as Kuroo leaned down close to your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

“ Don’t act so coy, Y/N. I know you would love nothing more than to wear my jersey so that everyone else could know you like me.”

You could feel the heat rise from your chest to your ears as you slipped your hands out from his to hold your textbook to your chest, as if it would cool you down. You fiddled with the spine of the textbook as a distraction as Kuroo smiled back innocently at you to give you time to compose yourself. 

“ D-Don’t say things like that, you’re my friend and that’s all,” You stammered as you slapped his shoulder to make the tension less thick,” and wipe that grin off your face, you look like an idiot!” 

Kuroo laughed, easing whatever tension was left in the air as he bumped your shoulder with his, “ Fine, fine, I’ll stop but only because you’re my special friend.”

“ You’re the worst.” 

“ And you love it.”

“ Are you sure we’re doing this right?” You asked Kuroo as he sprinkled in the powdered moonstone while you stirred the concoction slowly. 

You surveyed the room as you watched your fellow classmates fail miserably at the assignment at hand, some being greeted with thick clouds of smoke while others potions just combusted into flames. 

You flinched at the sound of shrieking and looked up to see Sugawara and Daichi backing away from their cauldron as a mass of black tar started to slither out towards them. Slughorn had warned everyone that this potion was tricky to master but you didn’t think it would be this difficult and as time passed, the more anxious you grew. 

Kuroo, as unbothered as ever, looked down at the instructions for a moment before turning his attention back at the cauldron,” Yep, triple checked it and everything. You sure are nervous today.”

“ I’m always nervous during this class, you know I’m awful at potions. Plus look what happened to Oikawa, he’s in the hospital wing because of this lab.” 

“ He’ll be fine, the flames weren’t too high, he probably just lost an eyebrow,” Kuroo teased, trying to keep your mind at bay,” are you sure you’re not nervous because we’re concocting Amorentia?” 

You continued to stir the mixture carefully as you only scoffed,” Why would I be nervous of a silly little love potion?” 

“ First off, Amorentia is one of the most powerful love potions in existence so show some respect,” Kuroo said as you only rolled your eyes back at him,” And second of all, maybe you’re nervous because this will finally prove that you have feelings for me.” 

“ Knock it off before I send you to the hospital wing nerd,” You replied hastily as Kuroo put his hands up in defense,” Are you sure you’re not the nervous one? You’ve been acting weird since class has started...like more mouthy than usual.” 

If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve gone the whole lesson completely oblivious to Kuroo’s nervous tics, but after years of being friends, you knew better than to pass them off as normal tendencies. 

Kuroo rubbed the corner of the textbook page between his fingers as his eyes read the directions over again to try and ground himself in his thoughts. He had re-read the same step of the last instruction for the past couple of minutes to look occupied but his facade was starting to fall apart. 

“ If you paid more attention to the assignment instead of me, maybe you would pass the class, huh?” Kuroo smirked to try and ease your mind but the action only made you feel more annoyed. 

“ Enough with this back and forth, are we almost done? You’ve been reading the last step for a while now, is it that hard or are you just stupid today?” You nudged Kuroo out of the way and bent your body over the table to read the last step, wanting nothing more than to get this class over with. 

Kuroo watched as you began to stir the concoction slowly, his eyes trained on the top of the cauldron to watch for any sign of steam. 

“ What color are the spirals supposed to be?” You asked as a dark, pink-colored steam started to slowly rise from the mixture,” did he say pink was right or purple? Maybe red I don’t even remember.” 

Kuroo carefully leaned closer beside you to get a better look at the steam,”Looks right to me. You smell anything?” 

“ The only thing I can smell is that god awful aftershave of yours so back up.” 

You leaned your forearms on the table and took in a deep breath of the potion. Almost instantly, you felt a comforting warmth spread throughout your body that started in your chest and moved all the way down to your head and toes. You felt your body completely relax and it felt almost similar to the feeling of submerging yourself into a hot bath after a long day. 

It would make absolutely no sense to describe the scents as something so oddly familiar and distinct while not being obvious at all yet that was where your headspace was as you tried to identify the scents. 

Almost immediately, once you pinpointed one scent, the rest came flooding in one after another,” I smell something like cinder-a burning logfire...and....I know what this is it’s kinda like- oh, broomstick polish!” 

You took into another deep breath to try and identify the last scent but you couldn’t put a name to the scent which only made you more frustrated. 

“ Kuroo, can you help me? I can’t figure out the last scent,” You sighed as Kuroo closed his eyes to take a turn, even though he could already pinpoint a few scents from his spot,” do you smell the logfire too?” 

Kuroo only smiled to himself as he felt the warmth spread across his body before shaking his head,” That’s not how it works. Our scents would be different for example, I smell…freshly clean linen, old parchment paper, and… butterbeer froth.”

Once the words left Kuroo’s mouth, he opened his eyes and turned to you to read your reaction. He looked for something, anything behind those eyes of yours to watch it all click in your head but as usual, you were completely oblivious to the huge hint he had given you. 

“ Lucky you, I wish I could smell what you can- this is harder than I thought,” You pouted as you noticed some of your other classmates were getting distracted by you and Kuroo’s Amortentia,” maybe we did this wrong.”

“ We did it right, don’t worry,” Kuroo cleared his throat as he gave you a nudge with his shoulder which only made you nudge him back even harder,” maybe you should try again, think really hard. Try to see where you recognize the scent instead of what it is.” 

You closed your eyes and just like before, the same warm sensation flooded your body but this time, you could feel yourself leaning closer and closer to the cauldron, almost as if the potion was pulling you in deeper. 

“ Burning logfire, broomstick polish and…” You took in another deep breath but you were only meet with more frustration,” for the last time, can you give me some space, Kuroo? I swear all I can smell is your-.” 

You opened your eyes and practically pulled yourself away from the table once an unsettling realization had started to develop quickly in your mind. You knew exactly what the scent was but there was that lingering sensation in your mind that still tried to convince itself that for once, maybe you were wrong. 

Kuroo let out a breathy laugh as the back of your neck and ears began to grow hot,” Something the matter-”

Without thinking, you grabbed Kuroo’s collar and pulled him down to your eye level. Kuroo’s face started to grow red as you brushed your nose against the side of his neck to get a better smell. You had to be going crazy, there was no way- it all had to be a trick. 

“ Are you sure we did this right? You’re absolutely positive?” You asked softly as you let go of his collar. 

Kuroo smoothed out his collar and nodded as he looked back at the cauldron,”I’m absolutely positive- why are you freaking out?” 

Because I smell your stupid vanilla aftershave. 

“ I’m not freaking out,” You lied through your teeth as you turned your attention to Slughorn as he dismissed the class for the day,” You know what, I’m actually not feeling well- Can you clean up for me? I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”

“Y/N-”

“ I’ll see you around,” You gathered your things quickly but as you reached for your potions book, Kuroo snatched it off the table and held it behind his back,”enough Kuroo, give it back.” 

“ Clean linen, parchment, and butterbeer froth,” Kuroo listed as you tried to grab your book from behind his back but Kuroo was quick to hold it above his head,”did you hear me?” 

You looked up at how high he was holding your textbook and as embarrassing as it was, you decided to hold on to the little dignity you had left and not jump up and down for it. 

“ Yes I heard you but I don’t care.” 

“ You do care and you’re not listening to me. I smelled clean linen, parchment paper, and butterbeer froth so now it’s your turn, what did you smell?” Kuroo asked, this time a bit louder. It was obvious in the way he was enunciating his words that he was trying to lead you down a certain conversation but you were slow to pick up on it. 

You didn’t want to tell him, all you wanted to do was go back to bed and pretend as though this day had never happened. The idea that all this time you actually had real feelings for Kuroo only made you feel flustered. 

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of liking someone like him but for years, you had convinced him and seemingly everyone else that you would never have feelings for Kuroo. In reality, you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

“ Do we have to do this right now?” You asked softly as you nodded over to Slughorn who was dusting the corners of his desk but it was obvious he was eavesdropping on the conversation. 

Without missing a beat, Kuroo nodded and lowered your textbook back down to hand it to you.

“ You’re right, we should discuss this someplace quiet and private, how does dinner sound?”

You shook your head at the boy as you tried to grab your textbook from him but you couldn’t pry it off his strong grip,“ Quit flirting with me, now isn’t the time.” 

Kuroo couldn’t take it anymore; the years of endlessly flirting and being ignored was taking a toll on his pride and he couldn’t stand it. He knew you were prideful but this was on a whole different level.

“ Now is the perfect time since now I know you like me after all.”

“ How- I do not-”

“ You’re a terrible liar Y/N, the aftershave was a dead giveaway and I don’t know whether or not I’m more hurt by the fact that you’re too embarrassed to admit you like me or that you think my aftershave is god awful,” Kuroo said as he loosened his grip on the book so you could take it from his hands,” aren’t you tired of pretending you don’t have feelings for me?” 

You carefully took back your textbook as if it was a fragile vase and held it close to your chest as if you were shielding your heart. 

“ For the record, I don’t think it’s god awful, I just think you put on way too much,” You mumbled as Kuroo stood up straighter,” and I’m not tired of pretending, maybe I don’t like you or maybe I do have feelings for you.”

“ But maybe you like me more than you dislike me, am I right?”

You opened your mouth but quickly closed it after thinking his words over for a moment,“Emphasis on maybe...but don’t let it get to your head. You get one date so don’t ruin it.” 

Even though it wasn’t the confession Kuroo wanted, it was the only confirmation he needed to hear from you to let him know that the feelings were mutual. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but wear a huge goofy smile on his face as he collected his things and followed your lead as you both started to walk out the classroom. You and Kuroo politely nodded and said goodbye to Slughorn, who was pretending to read the textbooks along the shelves. 

Once you two left the classroom, Kuroo’s hand slide down beside yours and started to play with your fingers carefully. Your hand recoiled from the feeling but once you made sure the hallway was clear of any onlookers, you let your hand slide back down and let his fingers intertwine with yours. 

“ You know, I knew you really liked me, I called it since day one-” 

“ Okay, that’s enough Kuroo.” 

“ You said and I quote,’As if I would be under the accompaniment of a clumsy Ravenclaw like yourself’ and look at you now, holding hands with one!”

You shook your head at him and wondered to yourself if this is how things would be now yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to hide the small smile on your face,”You’re the worst.” 

Kuroo squeezed your hand in his and shared the same lovey-dovey grin on his face,” and you love it.” 

taglist: @goopyartiste​, @sugas-sweetheart​, @kirislut​, @estridries​, @hannahalanib1​, @art0saurus​, @shoutamajiki​, @yee-harr​, @animatedarchives​

[sweetfierceimagines]

PART1/ It was supposed to be simple.  Ricky x Reader (HSMTM)

Hello everyone, I’ve been trying really hard to write lately, and it has been very complicated. I think you all understand, when everything is not ok in someone’s life, that someone kind of loses it.

But I decided to fight that, I least trying !

I discovered the series High School Musical the Musical and even though I’m 24 and supposed to be over this kind of drama, I’M CLEARLY NOT.

Synopsis : Reader is a student, she’s not technically involved in the Musical like everyone else, but she helps with costumes making and set management. Ricky gets to know her and even though he really wants to get Nini back and has a whole plan for it, life decides to mess with him, and he gets involved in a new sentimental obsession.

Warnings : none. Probably not my best writing, please be kind to me.. Just a lot of fluff and teenage drama ! Enjoy <3

Tell me if you want this to carry on ! I’ll be glad to write a part 2 if you like it :)

RICKY POV/

Here he was, playing Troy Bolton in this Musical. He would never have done it if it wasn’t for Nini.

He understood her, understood her pain, understood why she chose that stupid E.J. But he was not going to abandon. It was not because he didn’t reply that he didn’t mean it. 

So he enroled (quite amazingly by the way) in this musical. He was dancing, singing, acting.. He never thought it could actually be this fun and exhausting. He seemed to be reaching Nini’s heart more and more each day, as she was also realising that EJ was not as perfect as he pretended to be.

But something was about to mess up all his plans.

READER POV/

The school was all about that Musical. It seemed as if every other activity and class was less important and didn’t deserve that much attention. Y/N was not a singer, not a dancer. She didn’t play any instrument, she didn’t like to be under the spotlights.

She was all about reading, writing and creating. So when the art class shut down for “fund purposes” (basically meaning this musical was costing the school too much), she had to find another way to create. 

So she went for it. Asked Miss Jenn if she needed someone for her costumes and decor management, and simply started to work on the set. She wasn’t the only one working on costumes and on stage management, but she clearly was the best of the team.

And it was appreciated.

After just a few weeks, she was named “stage and costume director”, whatever that means. Even though she was pretending she didn’t care, it sort of made her feel validated, and allowed her to create as much as she wanted to, which was pretty amazing. 

RICKY POV/

It was one of these days.

Everything seemed to fall apart. His parents were ending their relationship, his mom would probably leave for a long time, Nini still supported EJ even though he was making mistakes for which she would have dumped him..

He felt like everything he was doing was not good enough and it was hard to deal with. He was not usually shy with his feelings, but this time he didn’t feel like sharing. So he stayed late, very late, at school, and waited for everyone to leave stage to show up.

He was sure no one was there, so he let his emotions speak and just let it out. He started by talking to himself, making moves and being loud. He was talking about his family, his fear of being abandonned, his fear of never being loved again, the pain of knowing he lost Nini because he didn’t deserve her back there, the impression that EJ was a better man than he was.. he could go for hours.

And then he started singing.

A couple sentences from numerous songs. Songs about love, songs about pain, songs about courage. He closed his eyes and sang his heart out. It was beautiful, strong, sincere. It would have tear anyone’s heart.

And it did.

READER POV/

Y/N was staying late, as usual. She had a special authorisation from Miss Jenn and the Dean to stay extra hours backstage, working of costumes or just on personnal projects.

At school at least, she didn’t have to deal with noise, with family issues of with anything that could poison her creativity.

She was painting when she heard a noise.

Startled, she sort of went in panic mode, imagining a hundred scenarios in which she would get in troubles. She walked smoothly to the stage entrance and remained out of sight while looking at the boy who played Troy basically loosing his mind on stage.

She could have told him that he was not alone, she was actually about to signal her presence out of respect for what he was revealing, when he started singing.

It made Y/N go numb, as if she left her body and could feel her soul burning of compassion. His voice was everything, his face was everything.

She didn’t realise, but she was crying silently.

After a couple minutes, she realised she was actually holding her breath. She breathed heavily and stumbled, making Ricky realise he was not alone at all.

The boy jumped and fell down, hurting himself quite badly.

Y/N came rushing at him, feeling terribly sorry for what happened.

RICKY POV/

- Man ! Couldn’t you say you were here?!

Ricky was flaming red, embarrassed that someone heard everything. He looked at this girl’s face and it honestly took him a few seconds to remember who she was. Yes, she was on stage pretty much each day, but at some point he got so obsessed with the Musical and Nini that he completly forgot about the environment he was evolving in.

She was pretty, her Y/E/C eyes looking terrified and guilty, and it seemed as she cried recently, her eyes a bit red.

He stood up and winced, lifting his shirt a bit to realise he was going to get bruses all over his chest and stomach.

- I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to interrupt or even listen. Seriously, I was going to tell you, i’m not a creep. Well, not that kind at least..

- Yeah? You were going to? Seems like you had plenty of time.

He sighed and headed backstage to inspect his clothes and body in the miror, assessing at bad it was.

Y/N followed, staying a few meters away to give him some space. She didn’t say anything, feeling guilty enough.

Ricky took his shirt out completly, looking at his body. Y/N could tell he was contracting a bit his abs and arms and let out a silent laugh. She observed for a couple minutes and finally talked.

- You riped your shirt a bit.

Ricky turned, facing her, looking anoyed, and lifted his arms.

- No joke ! Who’s falt is it?

- You’re the one who fell dude.

He opened his mouth to answer right back but her cheekiness cheered him a bit, and he simply nodded his head.

- Yeah, I’ll blame gravity next time I see her. A real troublemaker that one.

He looked at his shirt and sighed. He didn’t know anything about sewing and his mom would probably have other things to do. Too bad, it was his favorite old school shirt.

Y/N stretched her hand toward him and he gave her his shirt. Still shirtless, he looked as she sat down where it seemed like she was staying most of the time, in a corner with painting all over, needles and fabric. She grabed one needle, easily got the thread in and started sewing, with a hand technique that showed how used to it she was.

He looked around, noticing one painting that seemed to still be in progress. He got closer, reaching his hand to it.

- Don’t ! It’s wet, I was on it when I heard you.

He turned around, looking at her in another way. She was pretty impressive, painting stuff, sewing shirts and managing a stage so well people didn’t even realised she was here.

- That’s sick.

He said with a smile.

She looked back at him and nodded, smiling at him too.

- Thanks. I usually plan what I’m going to do but this one.. it just came to me.

He looked closer, noticing a female silouette, somehow looking cut in some parts. Not cut as stabbed, but cut as split in different sections.

- What do you think it is?

Y/N said while carrying on her sewing. She acted as she was not looking at him, but each time he got his attention back at the painting, she would look at him, trying to anticipate his reactions.

- Hum.. It’s a.. it’s a woman? Right?

He would turn to her, as if he was looking for her validation for each word he said. She simply nodded, encouraging him to carry on.

- It’s a woman, and this woman is split. She.. Maybe because she went through a lot, maybe the different sections represent different emotions? Different moments of her life?

He remained silent for a second and looked with intensity at the painting. His eyebrows frown and he suddently looked sad.

- Maybe because she can’t be whole again. She has to be split. She has to try to deal with these conflicting emotions, these ups and downs. Maybe people tell her she should be grateful, and happy, and she should move on. But she can’t, because life cut her in several pieces.

And a tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N stood up, mooving carefully toward him, and put a gentle hand on his (still naked) shoulder. She could feel him shaking a bit, deeply moved by what he felt from the painting. 

- Ricky.. it’s ok.

He turned, facing her, his eyes still filled with tears. He didn’t quite knew why, but he didn’t feel like looking anything but himself with her. After all, she knew how he was feeling, she heard what he said, and she felt what he felt.

The way she was looking at him.. Conforting, warm, yet terrifying. She understood.

He put his hand on hers, squeezing it as if it would make him feel better. He was here, facing her, hand on hand, eyes to eyes.

Suddenly, the speaker went on, the voice of a security guy telling “Miss Y/N, time to close the school. Sorry”

This sort of broke the moment. They broke the physical contact and she gave him his shirt back. They both gathered their stuff and silently headed to the front door, thanking the security guard for his patience.

They smiled at each other and Ricky waved goodbye, whatching as she was quitely leaving of her bike.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Seventeen ~ Split

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1482

Warnings: None

A/n Hello hello! I know it’s not one of my normal update days, but this one is short, so enjoy this angsty bonus chapter!

Cosima

Weeks pass in routine. In the mornings I research with Alex or study Sindarin alone, sometimes venturing into the garden or library to occupy my time. The lunch hours are typically spent in the company of friends, and Lavandil and I have been passing many of our afternoons together in her shop. As the summer continues, business only grows, and I can see why she asked for the help. Her art is quite popular! She tried to teach me how to weave and, unsurprisingly, I’m terrible. So I mainly help clean and work with the customers.

Three nights a week, Alex, Baranor and I meet in the library and continue our lessons. On that, I actually am making progress. It’s allowed me to converse with Lavandil’s customers in their own language. It’s also helped me feel much more self-sufficient here. No longer must I have to rely on Lavandil or Rumil to translate when we go out. Ellyn I speak with still have to slow their words and repeat things several times, and sometimes I must ask for clarification, but the progress really is liberating.

Two days a week, right after breakfast, Alex and I meet Elrond in his study.

Lord Elrond insists on using the power in his fæ to attempt to aid us in recovering our memories. I hate to admit it, but his efforts are wasted and, on my part, not really wanted. Besides the memory of Mara and Nonna, I don’t remember anything, and at this point, I’m not sure I want to. I’m already too attached to the people here, and I’ve seen where that’s gotten me. I don’t want to remember people from home — love them, miss them, and then realize I can never return to them.

I don’t make much progress, anyway. Most days, Alex and I have nothing but headaches and exhaustion to show for our work. Every now and then, one of us will remember something small — a passing event or an aquauntaince from childhood — but nothing of real interest. Elrond agrees that the headaches and exhaustion are signs that we are not yet healed from whatever ordeal resulted in us arriving in Arda. He’s been keeping an eye on our fæs — apparently they are somehow injured — and says that the original wounds are all but healed.

Alex’s progress is less encouraging. His old wounds are healing, but nearly every time Elrond or Baranor checks, there’s a new injury. They don’t know what’s causing it, but privately, I have a theory. While Alex says he’s accepted this world, knowing him, there’s a part that’s still hanging on to our homeworld. Maybe that’s causing too much stress to allow him to heal. Because I’m healing, and I’ve fully accepted this world for what it is — impossible, different, but real.

And then at night time, training continues with Haldir.

I am careful to keep distance between us except when absolutely necessary. By the way he does the same, he’s recognized the urgent precariousness of our situation. As much as I want to confess the feelings I keep so tightly bottled up inside, to fall into his arms and ask him to love me forever, I cannot.

Because my forever is abysmally different than his.

So I keep my distance.

My effort to avoid excessive contact or time with him is helped by the fact that, not long after our first training session, he became incredibly busy. Though relations between him and Glorfindel are still tense, the two work tirelessly to train the newer guard. Often, by the time I make my way down to breakfast, Haldir is long gone, off to lead drills.

The distance between us hasn’t helped my internal predicament.

Too often, I catch myself following the line of his jaw, remembering the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, wanting to return to that excitement of just the two of us under the stars.

I don’t act on these thoughts, nor communicate them to anyone, though Lavandil certainly tries to break that resolve. She’s adamant that, even with my lifespan to consider, it is better to spend the time we have together in happiness rather than holding ourselves back from something that could be great.

I forcefully disagree.

I’d rather cause myself a little pain now than put Haldir in a position where he could be broken later.

Surprisingly, Rumil, once my tormentor, has become my closest ally. Any time someone attempts to bring up the subject of me and Haldir, Rumil promptly shuts it down, usually changing the subject to something outlandish enough to properly distract everyone. He kindly occupies my newfound free time and we go riding together at least once a week. Since Rumil has Roch, Haldir allows me to take Faervel out, and, where the horse used to be indifferent towards me at best, he now whinnies in greeting the second I set foot in the stables.

My life in Imladris is nice. It’s peaceful. It’s filled with wonderful friends and so much to discover. And I’m happy, there’s no doubt about that…even if something is missing. I caught my feelings early and took preventative action by distancing myself from Haldir, which is good…but it’s…unfulfilling, in a way, to stay far from him. I miss eating meals together and talking about our days before training sessions. I miss constantly having him around. I miss him teasing me and moments where it’s just us.

I miss him.

But I won’t lose my resolve.

If my sadness can save Haldir pain, then I will bear it.

{***}

Haldir

Summer in Imladris passes quickly. My days revolve around training the newer guard, and they show promising progress. Lothlórien’s borders are much more extensive than that of Imladris’, and I am confident adopting some of the techniques I use with my wardens at home to fit Elrond’s guard will help them be more prepared when the orcs attack again. My brothers have been indispensable, kindly offering their help and allowing me to use them as examples for the other soldiers. Orophin, of course, plans his schedule around Lavandil’s, but I have him with us about three days a week. Rumil joins nearly every day, only disappearing on Saturday mornings to take the horses out with Cosima.

Cosima.

My mind has been consumed by her for weeks.

If I am being honest, it’s been consumed with her long before then, probably up to the moment she arrived in this world. I now understand that my desire to keep her near me after the attack, and every moment after, was not only a preventative measure to make her feel better — it was my need to keep her close. To keep her safe. To have that reassurance that she is alright, and, if we were to be attacked again, I could defend her myself.

I really do owe Rumil an apology.

Turns out my brother knows me better than I know myself.

But despite the startling realization that I want to be with a human woman—not just any human woman, Cosima—the days continue.

Not of small concern is Cosima’s health which, mercifully, is improving. Her sessions with Elrond to attempt to regain her memories must be helping — though her memories have not returned, the scars on her fæ are nearly completely healed.

Aside from my monitoring of her health through Elrond and Baranor, my busy schedule prevents me from seeking her out. We continue to train together three times a week — she is making vast improvements — but our interactions are hesitant, a little awkward. I worry I overstepped my bounds that first night, or perhaps, even before that — maybe the night under the stars — for she certainly keeps her distance now. No longer do we eat together or talk in our free time. It’s a strange feeling, but it causes me stress not to see her during the day. Even a quick interaction would be enough, just to catch a glimpse of her smile or hear the approval of her laugh, but those are few and far between.

But, as much as it pains me, it is for the best.

I hate to think of it this way, but Cosima’s life is short and her future uncertain. Were she an elleth, there would be no issue — I could tell her of my feelings and she could return them and we could spend the rest of our never-ending lives together.

But Cosima is human. Even if she does choose to stay in Arda forever, her forever and mine are vastly different. If I give in, do as I so desperately want to and build a life with her…

She does not know it, but she has the power to break me.

And, while I still hold a sliver of the ability to keep that from happening, I must seize on it.

A/n Thanks for reading, and happy weekend! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! See you Monday with a new chapter :)

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Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala 

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

Frenzy

Warning: Explicit sex, Somnophilia, DUBCON, and Overstimulation. Mentions of past abuse. Please read with caution if any of these are your triggers.

Summary: It wasn’t her fault. Mirio had forced her hand and by the end of the night he would be hers.

◎◎◎◎◎◎

“Gomen. Can you repeat that last part, Tou-san?”

His father just smiled at him. “I said I think we should adopt Y/N. What do you think, Mirio?”

When the police raided the Shie Hassaikai, Eri quietly warned about another girl who was hidden away. Unlike Eri, though, Y/N was a teenager and, just like Eri, had nowhere to go. So, the Togata family volunteered to house Y/N until CPS found a home for her. But it looks like his father already had something else in mind.

“I think it’s an awesome idea. Y/N has opened up so much around us. I was worried about what would happen if she was adopted by someone else,” Mirio enthused.

Things were finally going his way. Just yesterday, he found out there was a chance of him regaining his quirk if Eri would control her quirk. And now this.

“Great since Y/N’s still skittish around me. Why don’t you bring up the topic with her, and if she agrees, then we can discuss it together?” his father hummed while stirring the curry on the stove. His father looked away for a second to grab chili peppers.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Mirio leaned over to grab the spoon covered with curry and quickly shoved it in his mouth before his father noticed.

“Mirio! That’s for dinner,” Tou-san scolded, grabbing back the now saliva covered spoon.                 ��            

He quickly escaped the kitchen, using Y/N as an excuse. Mirio hurried to the guestroom where she had been staying since she arrived. It was her room technically more than a guestroom now—the walls covered by cute posters of various Pokémon that Y/N liked. The bed had flattering mauve sheets that Y/N personally picked out, plus various art supplies scattered throughout the room.

Mirio hesitantly on the door as he peeked inside the opened room.

“Y/N? Are you in here?”

The bathroom door opened, and Y/N shyly stepped out. His father had thought being the sole girl in a house full of men, she ought to have privacy and gave her the room with a bathroom attached.

“H-hai. I’m here.”

“Gomen! I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can come back later.”

“Lie, it’s fine, Mirio-kun. Did you need something?” Y/N cautiously asked.

Y/N rarely talked when she first arrived; mostly, it was him carrying a one-sided conversation. But Mirio was used to shy individuals, and it was his specialty to bring down their walls. When she eventually did start responding to his questions, he learned that unlike Tamaki, Y/N wasn’t shy. Just subdued, and she carried a solemn disposition that could quickly turn others off. Thankfully, he wasn’t discouraged and carried on with his conversations like Y/N wasn’t eying the nearest door to escape.

Mirio nervously rubbed his left shoulder.

“Y/N, do you like it here?”

Y/N eyebrows furrowed like she didn’t understand the question.

“You mean the bathroom? Because you can tell Togata-san that It’s fine the way it is.”

He quickly shook his head and waved his hands frantically. “No! not that! I mean, do you like living here with me?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and her face flushed red. She quickly looked away from him.

Mirio, confused with her actions, decided to continue getting to the point.

“Because Tou-san wants to adopt you officially. He wants us to become a real family. What do you think?”

The silence that followed afterward was awkward in every way imaginable. It seemed like Y/N was purposely facing away from him to avoid answering. Though, he remained patient, waiting for her response. In what felt like forever, she eventually did turn around to look him in the eye. Her face looked all washed out, and she looked a bit teary-eyed.

“I-I refuse. I don’t want to be adopted.”

“Are you sure? Because I would love a sister!”

That only seemed to make it worse because Y/N retreated into the bathroom and quickly locked it.

Mirio cautiously knocked on the door. “Y/N, are you ok? Are you mad?”

She didn’t respond. Mirio, a bit annoyed, let out an aggravated sigh.

“Well, I’ll be out here waiting for you until you say something.”

That elicited movement in which he could hear her shuffling around behind the closed door.

“Mirio-kun, please go away. I don’t want to talk right now,” her muffled voice said.

He replied in a small voice, “Oh, well, alright. At least come to dinner. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

When Mirio didn’t hear anything in return, he shuffled back sadly to the kitchen where his father set up the table for dinner.

“Hey, did you ask her?” Tou-san inquired as he set down some chopsticks.

“I did, but I don’t think she liked the idea. Y/N locked herself in the bathroom and refused to come out.”

Tou-san saw Mirio’s wilted face and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe it’s better to wait a while before asking again. Y/N probably has her reasons why she said no. If she decides not to join us, she can have dinner later.”

Eventually, Y/N ended up having dinner in her room and not coming for the rest of the night. It was disheartening, to say the least. He tossed and turned in his bed for hours before Mirio crept out into the hallway and sat on the floor nearby Y/N’s door. When she first arrived, it was hard not to notice the lights still on at 4 AM. Since then, Mirio had always made sure to keep close by in case she needed him. He never found out what haunted Y/N late at night. But he supposed the whys didn’t matter to him, just that he was still someone’s hero even without a quirk. Mostly when that someone was Y/N.

The wooden floor was a bit uncomfortable. Discomforts that Mirio disregarded in favor of sitting there. Then he started hearing whimpering coming from Y/N’s room. It was subtle enough that Mirio thought he imagined it the first couple of times he heard it. Yet, the sounds came again and again to the point he could no longer ignore them. Not wanting to jolt Y/N, which he learned not to do, Mirio carefully pried the door open to peek inside.

The room was completely dark except for the streetlights that lit the room from the open windows. He saw Y/N’s body half-covered with a blanket. The shadows hid her face, and he could now clearly hear Y/N’s stifling gasps. She let out a groan, and the sound sent chills down his spine.

He widened the door’s gap a bit further and saw Y/N’s restless movements.

“Mirio!” Y/N let out, and the covers fell away to show her hands inside her pajama shorts.

Her chest was heaving, and her right hand’s frantic yet rhythmic motions continued. Mirio knew precisely what she was doing. It was hard not to when he was a teenage boy. It seemed that Y/N remained unsatisfied because soon enough, she tugged her shorts off and tossed them near his vicinity.

Mirio gulped, seeing the flimsy cotton garments. His eyes immediately fixated on Y/N once again when she let out a keening moan.

“Please. Please,” Y/N’s legs widened to allow for a better angle. It seemed to have worked in her favor judging by the way she enthusiastically responded. He could hardly see anything except for her creamy legs and the occasional glimpse of her hand. He couldn’t see where her left hand was either since her right hand occupied her pussy. But judging from the distance, it seemed her other hand was on her breast.

All too soon, the show was over before it even began. Y/N’s body arched, gripped by an unknown pleasure, and she started chanting his name.

Mirio bit down on his own fist from making any startling noise. It all happened so fast that he felt almost like he imagined it. Because as soon as she came, Y/N collapsed and retrieved the blankets she kicked off in her hurry. She was once again making herself comfortable enough to go back to sleep. He waited for several minutes, making sure she wouldn’t move again before carefully shutting her door and hurrying back to his room. In times like these, Mirio sorely missed his quirk because it would have come in handy.

He could only blame Y/N for the way he jackhammered pumped his cock. His cum splattered all over his stomach, leaving his member feeling raw and exhausted by how hard he managed to come.

One thing for sure Y/N touching herself while saying his name was something he wouldn’t be able to forget even if he wanted to.

 ◎◎◎◎◎◎

He watched her eat with such an intensity that Mirio didn’t even notice the strange looks he was getting from his father. He really should be less obvious, but it was like Y/N was everywhere ever since that night. He noticed things that he never noticed before. Her nose with peppered tiny black moles or how she had a giant sweet tooth. So much so it was rare to find Y/N’s mouth unoccupied without a piece of candy.

“Mirio, are you feeling ok? You haven’t touched your food at all,” Tou-san voiced.

Y/N looked up from her plate to shoot a concerned glance his way.

He could feel his cheeks heating up when they made eye contact and feeling embarrassed, he quickly cleared his throat.

“I-I’m fine. Just not hungry.”

Well, that wasn’t true. In fact, Mirio was quite famished. But he could hardly think about food when Y/N was sitting right in front of him like she hadn’t just fingered herself while thinking of him just a few days ago. He had so many questions. Like, what did she think about specifically? When did this all start? And more importantly, what did it all mean? Mirio wasn't stupid; Y/N made her interest evident last night. But how far did it go? Was it just a means of relieving stress? Or did she like him? And if she did, what does that mean for him?

“Thank you for the meal,” Y/N murmured as she grabbed her plate and left to rinse it in the kitchen.

Mirio looked down to his see his still untouched lunch and sighed.

It would make things awkward in the house if she liked him, and he didn’t feel the same. If that was the case, he could ignore everything and pretend none of it happened. Thereby preserving their friendship. But at least he knew why Y/N was so obstinate against the adoption. It would be weird knowing you’re attracted to your newly adopted brother.

He pushed his plate away and stood up. “I think I’m done. I can’t eat another bite.”

Mirio could scarcely hear his father playfully reply as he walked away, “I’m sure you’re full after only two bites, son!”

Moreover, it was clear Y/N had a rough life living amongst the Yakuza. Still, she was so brave, trying so hard to assimilate amongst his family. There were times when he could tell Y/N was uncomfortable or there was a dark cloud hanging over her some days; even then, she was doing her best. It made her incredibly likable in his eyes, and that’s why she was so special to him.

“Y/N! Wait up, I have a question,” he hollered after her.

She did as Mirio requested, and a small smile blossomed on her face at the sight of him. He could feel his heartbeat increase, which definitely wasn’t from the short jog.

He was never someone to beat around the bush, so he immediately questioned her.

“Y/N, do you l-lik”

Well, at least he tried to, but as Mirio studied Y/N’s face, all he could hear was her throaty voice saying his name repeatedly.

She waved her hand in front of his face.

“Mirio-kun, you were about to ask me something.”

“OH, rightttt. Well, I forgot my question, so I’m just going to leave. Bye now!” he nervously chuckled before trying to dart into the nearby plaster wall. Only for him to forget he no longer had his quirk.

“Ow!” Mirio groaned and rubbed his sore forehead.

Y/N immediately went to check on him. “Here, let me see.”

Seeing her face so close made him feel incredibly tense. Goosebumps rose across his skin when she parted his blond hair to see the red bump.

“It’s not too bad. Make sure you ice it.”

In response, he clutched her hand tightly and said, “Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it.”

As he left to do just that, he didn’t need to turn back to know that Y/N’s face was just as flushed as his.

Mirio, unfortunately, didn’t hear the words that Y/N murmured as he departed.

“Hey, wait. You never asked your question,” she said under her breath before disappointedly going back to her room.                                    

◎◎◎◎◎◎

She didn’t think it was possible to like someone so much. Not after what she had been through. Not after what the last man she trusted did to her. But it was impossible to ignore Mirio. He was like an overwhelming, scorching sun that no one was able to avoid. At first, she wanted nothing to do with him. Yet, he remained firm until she had no choice but to return his affections. Now? Now she wanted him in every way imaginable. No. She needed him. Someone like her didn’t deserve him. Mirio warranted a kind and loving person just like him. Not a woman who was so toxic that she sucked everyone in like a black hole by her bitterness.

Y/N’s desire for him grew uncontrollable day by day. Each night she ended it with his name on her lips. Sometimes when she laid in her bed in the aftermath, she wished he would overhear her. Because Y/N knew he would wait out his nights outside of her room. So, she hoped he would hear and eventually join her. But of course, it was just wishful thinking.

The last few days, though, Mirio was acting weird ever since he asked about adoption. She hoped that he would return to normal if she pretended everything was fine. However, that didn’t come to pass. Now he has forced her hand. Y/N didn’t want to do this. She was hoping to avoid this exact thing. She also didn’t want to become his sister of all things, so desperate times called for desperate measures. By tonight Mirio would know precisely how she felt for him.

Y/N was used to late nights plagued by nightmares. This time though, she waited until she heard the footsteps of Togata-san, and finally, Mirio’s lighter footsteps creeping up the stairwell. She gave it a few more hours for everyone to fall asleep before carefully peeling away her covers and making her way out of the room. She never ventured farther than her room because she wasn’t comfortable enough to intrude on other people’s space. Yet, Y/N knew by heart that Mirio’s room was the second one on the right. So, she crept slowly and let herself into his darkened room. It took a couple of minutes for her eyes to adjust, but eventually, she could make out Mirio sleeping on his bed. She inched herself on the bed, cringing when the springs squeaked from her weight. Y/N peeked a glance at Mirio, who seemed to be unaffected, and she sighed in relief.

Adjusting herself carefully, she removed the blanket from his person.  Though he was clearly in a deep slumber, she should have known to expect the bulge in his pajamas. Whenever he conversed with her, she tried hard not to notice the impressive swell in his jeans many times before. But it was hard not to when judging by just the outline of how awe-inspiring it would be in person. Finally, Y/N's curiosity would be laid to rest. She slid down his pajama pants, making sure not to jolt Mirio.

In her honest opinion, penises were weird as hell. Because she only had prior experience with one guy, she assumed they all looked the same. Looking at Mirio’s, though, she couldn’t help but find it cute. It was thicker like she suspected but shorter when flaccid. It was companied by small, trimmed tuffs of blond hair. Not wanting to waste time, Y/N immediately licked the tip and engulfed as much as she could in her mouth, and sucked. All the while keeping an eye on Mirio who’s eyebrow furrowed at the contact before relaxing once again. It took everything within her not to let her eyes roll back and moan at the taste of him. There was a certain tanginess to his pre-cum, reminding her of a bit of pineapple, and she loved pineapples. The flavor just served to encourage her, and she continued to suck, hollowing her cheeks. Unfortunately, as much as she was enjoying herself with his cock in her mouth. She didn’t come in here to give him an impromptu blowjob.

It took a bit of maneuvering on her part, but she managed to remove the shorts she usually wore to bed as well as shimmying out of the panties she had on. Just the sheer anticipation of what she was about to do made her cunt glisten with wetness, and so she didn’t hesitate in taking his erect member and inserting in one go.

Y/N choked with emotions when she felt Mirio fill her to the brim. God, he felt perfect. No, he was perfect. She took a minute to gather her composure and tried to calm her harsh breathing despite being overwhelmed. While she wanted to put her hands and balance on his shoulders, Y/N didn’t think she could handle that without waking him up. So, instead, she opted to place her hands on the bed and started to rock. Slow and steady as she attempted not to create too much bounce for the bed springs to react. Then when Y/N was confident enough, she twisted her hips to move them in circular motions just the way she liked it.

She took a minute to thank Kami-sama; she wasn’t a virgin because if she were, the tight fit would have been unquestionably painful. His thick cock rubbed against her vaginal walls creating the most delicious friction, causing her mouth to unknowingly water. She swallowed back the saliva, lest she started drooling and made a mess of herself.

She pulled back a bit, causing the thick head of his cock to slip out of her before grabbing it to reenter. Y/N tried to bite down on her lip to contain any noises, but she couldn’t help whimpers and gasps as the head penetrated the sensitive opening once more.

The movement and noises caused Mirio to stir and mumble incoherently. She waited anxiously for his blue eyes to open and gaze upon her accusingly. He only drifted back to sleep a few seconds later. So, she continued her slow and hypnotizing rhythm. It made her want to cry out of pure frustration. Hoping she wasn’t risking too much. Y/N backed up and then slammed herself on his cock. Despite the tingling sensation, she again waited for Mirio’s reaction. Who seemed to moan in his sleep before settling down once more. So, she attempted to bounce several times, each waiting in increments to see if he would react. Feeling satisfied that he was a deep sleeper, she vigorously started working up and down Mirio’s cock. Throwing all caution to the wind, the bed started squealing, and her moans became unrestrained.

Y/N knew that when she had come up with her little plan, it would involve Mirio eventually waking up. There was no way she was going to be able to continue without him noticing. But even she was caught off guard when he suddenly awoke with a gasp as Y/N shoved herself back on his member.

Mirio seemed taken back to see her.

“Y/N? W-what are you doing?” he hoarsely asked.

She bit her lip, watching him cautiously to see what he would do. But Mirio just kept staring; his eyes widened like he couldn’t believe she was there on top of him.

So, taking a chance, Y/N leisurely started riding him and clutching his taut bicep.

“M-mirio.” she gasped.

Wildly he gaped at her face before watching riveted at the junction where his member disappeared inside her cunt.

“You see that baby? I’m fucking you,” she choked out as her walls fluttered around his cock.

His heated gaze made her feel shivers throughout her body.

“And I’m going to continue to fuck you until you come inside of me.”

Knowing his undivided attention wasn’t about to go anywhere, Y/N reached down to her t-shirt and tugged it off her. She made sure not to wear a bra before coming to his room. Her pebbled peaks stood at attention, and she eagerly placed Mirio’s hands on her chest.

Y/N felt him swipe his thumbs over her nipples and squeeze generously. Emboldened, Y/N increased her pace, and that really set him off. His groans seemed to echo along with the noisy mattress.

And when she purposely squeezed her muscles around him, he howled her name with ecstasy.

“Like that, huh? Every night I thought of you like this. And now you’re all mine.”

She leaned over and captured his lips. Even when she felt him tremble and frantically thrust back, Y/N held his face steady, kissing him lovingly. And when he finally lost control and bucked into her warm cunt. He painted her insides white, and she could feel the warmness emanating from his cum. Long ago, this feeling disgusted her, but with Mirio, it felt right. She felt elated, knowing that a piece of him was inside of her.

He slumped on the bed, breathing harshly like he just ran a marathon. Sadly, for Mirio, Y/N still hadn’t managed to get herself off, which meant it wasn’t over yet.

He eyed her blearily as she once again rose and let out a guttural groan as she went in deep.

“Y/N, please stop. I can’t. It’s too much,” he urged.

Y/N ignored his pleas to chase her own pleasure instead. Mirio could only watch helplessly as she rode his overstimulated cock. He feasted on the sight of Y/N parting her vaginal lips and trace slow circles on the clit.

Everything was just right, his eyes on her just like she deserved, her clit properly stimulated, and his cock that felt divine. Her orgasms, when she indulged herself, were build up like a crescendo, slow and steady with a significant impact. But this time, it hit her like a freight train. Her eyes watered from the sheer strength of it and her body bucked, unable to help its contortions. Y/N collapsed on top of Mirio and clutched him like a life preserver. It took several minutes for the aftershocks to completely stop as she was still grinding against him to prolong her orgasm. But she finally managed to look up from her exhaustion; there was a film of sweat surrounding both of their body. It stuck to his skin and made Mirio seem like he was glowing.

The two stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Knowing that no words could explain her actions, Y/N kissed his lips once. And several times more when he didn’t pull or push her away. They kissed leisurely, and Mirio pulled her body close.

“Mirio I-… I,” Y/N whispered. “I love you. I love you so much I can barely breathe sometimes.”

Mirio only tightened his grip on her and soothed Y/N as she drifted to sleep.

The last thing she felt was Mirio kissing her forehead and whispering something that suspiciously sounded like, “well, I guess that answers my question.”          

[remmushound]

Bay/rise 35!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @digitl-art-monstr @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sententiously-sarcastic @sprinklestheditty

Leo didn't move as he counted down to the last number. He remained still and waited. Leonardo charged forward with all the energy of a young warrior, and all the foolishness of one too. The first to charge was always the first to fall, and that’s exactly what Leo intended to use toward his benefit. When Leonardo got close enough to potentially land a strike, only then did Leo dare move. It wasn’t for a counter attack, however. He simply sidestepped and let Leonardo pass him by, his gaze never once leaving the eager slider. Leonardo ran a few more paces before he could slow enough to stop, and then he turned and focused his energy in another charge that Leo quickly avoided.

Leonardo didn't charge for a third time. He held his sword out at his side and motioned for Leo to approach him. Leo only smiled and shook his head, copying the motion to try and get Leonardo to approach him instead. It turned into a power struggle of patience, which Leonardo quickly lost. No patience, just as Leo had expected. Young and naive and eager to fight. Leo just had to wait it out.

Leonardo was anticipating the dodge this time and stopped just before Leo sidestepped, then quickly brought his odachi swinging at the older warrior. Leo had his katana ready to meet the attack, and the only sound that filled the air was the crash of metal against metal. Blade against blade in a cold stalemate of will and war. Their eyes met in a moment of thoughtful calculation before Leonardo pulled away quite suddenly and ducked down to attempt a swipe at Leo’s ankles. Leo just barely jumped back and then both turtles returned to their quiet planning at a safe distance.

Again, Leonardo was the first to break the stalemate and charge again. Again and again he broke rank and tried to attack Leo with swift movements and quick blows. Again and again, Leo gave it the barest minimum effort required to thwart the attacks, watching as the slider got more and more exhausted with each passing moment.

From the sidelines April, still decked out in her Leonardo cheer-gear, slumped. She leaned over to whisper to the Mikey’s and Donnie. “This is a lot less dramatic than I thought it was gonna be.”

“Wish I could watch.” Donnie grumbled, his back still turned to the fight as Leo had ordered

April scoffed and nudged Donnie. “Then turn around— ain’t nobody care about that rule!”

“It’s so I can’t snitch…” Donnie said softly, daring a look back so he could address April properly.

April crossed her arms. “We’ll I got a better way to make sure you don’t snitch, because if you do…” She yanked down Donnie by the bridge of his chest until their eyes were level, “Then I’m gonna see how long a turtle can live without its shell. Now turn your ass around and be bored with us!”

April pushed on Donnie with all her might until the box turtle relented and turned around to watch the fight taking place. Leo noticed the breaking of his rule, but he didn't dare risk his focus just to correct Donnie. Not when he stood to face a fleet-footed flight risk.

Leonardo seemed to have caught on to what Leo was doing, but it was several minutes too late. His body already felt heavy from the expended energy. He could feel the muscles below his chest working to pull on his lungs and fill as much of the organs as possible with new, replenishing air. Leo smiled as he saw the younger turtle struggling, but still he didn't move to meet Leonardo. He was constantly forcing the other to come to him. Instead of doing that, Leonardo backed up to Donatello.

“I’m getting my shell kicked out there, Don!” Leonardo whispered urgently.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Donatello asked.

“You’re my second— advise me!”

“Don’t let him hit you.” Was Donatello’s advice.

Leonardo turned to him with a narrow-eyed stare. “Very helpful, Don.”

Leo cleared his throat. “Are we fighting or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to ya!” Leonardo spat in Leo’s direction, “Can I get some real advice this time, Don?”

“Don’t eat yellow snow.”

“Donnie!”

“Nardo.”

Donatello shoved Leonardo back into the standoff. Leonardo stumbled forward until his blade met with Leo, who had finally started to show the slightest amount of interest in the spar. Though Leo had twin katana, swinging completely independent of each other in a traditional and ancient technique, Leonardo’s sporadic and unconventional attacks were enough to bewilder and confuse the seasoned soldier. Leonardo finally managed to land a slashing blow against Leo’s chest before jumping back out of the katana’s reach.

Leo’s shell was tough, but it was still just scutes covering bone, and scutes bleed. It wasn’t much, but the strike was enough to cause a thin trail of blood to trickle down Leo’s chest and stomach, and Leonardo couldn’t help but eye the wound. Just a scratch, not enough to get infected and minor enough for the scratch to stop bleeding on its own. Already the flow had ceased. Leonardo gave a slight hum at the sight of old scutes that should have shed off of the shell weeks ago, and he made a mental note of pointing out the flaw when he could catch his breath. Leo, spotting his rivals lack of focus, decided to take advantage of it.

Leonardo jumped back. Leo continued to advance. The slider took off running to avoid a few paces. Looking behind him revealed that Leo had stopped, and Leonardo stopped as well, silently cursing himself for wasting even more of his precious energy on a false charge. He couldn’t keep doing this— he had to figure out some method of weakness to exploit. Some advantage that the brute of a box turtle couldn’t expect! He looked down at his odachi, and then the idea struck him like a brick. He smiled.

Leo was almost nervous when he saw the grin, but he kept his stance firm and ready for anything. Or, almost anything. Leonardo laughed before charging the hulking shinobi. He flashed his odachi as if to strike, but swung his blade too soon. Leo raised his katana to meet the attack, but then his mind started turning like the windows loading symbol as Leonardo disappeared in a flash of blue. Leo’s eyes darted everywhere he could imagine the ninja to go, but there was no sign of him. He foolishly turned back to Raph.

“Where’d he go?”

Raph shrugged.

Leo’s answer came in the form of a loud cowabunga! followed by a sudden, unexpected weight slamming down on his shoulders and knocking him to the ground. Leonardo was perched on top of him, standing on the baffled mutant’s shoulders and holding his odachi blade to Leo’s neck for a second before pulling it back and striking a pose.

“Yeah yeah, who’s your champion? Oh yeah! It’s me!” Leonardo started to do a dance on top of Leo.

It took the watching audience a moment to catch on to what had just happened before they all erupted into loud applause and cheers.

“I don’t know how he did that, but that was incredible!” Donnie shifted his glasses in disbelief, then returned to his clapping.

“Speedy Gonzales got skills!” Raph whistled.

“WOO! THAT’S MY BROTHER! GO LEO! WHOOOO!” April cried out.

“Whoop whoop.” Donatello made tired fist pumps.

The cheers of the Mikey’s melded together like clay as they roared, words blurring together into a cloud of excitement. Once the shock was gone, Leo growled and shoved Leonardo off of, grabbing the boy by the throat and hoisting him into the air. The cheers immediately turned into shouts of dismay at the act, and Donnie had to restrain the surprisingly strong April as she tried to charge her brothers attacker. Raph was upon the duo in an instant, ripping them apart and placing himself between them. 

“You okay?” He asked Leonardo, who was still catching his breath. 

Leonardo gave a thumbs up as he almost keeled over, just barely balancing himself on his knees. Leo tried to shove his way past his brother, but Raph held him back with little strain.

“HE CHEATED!” Leo growled accusingly, motioning at Leonardo while still trying to reach him. Leonardo was quick to scatter to the safety of Donatello.

“That ain’t give you no right to strangle the kid!” Raph said, then turned on Leonardo. “How’d you do that?”

“Mystic sword.” Donatello answered for his brother, “He can teleport using it.”

“Then you lied!” Leo spat, “You cheated!”

“It’s not called lying.” Leonardo said, smiling impishly, “It’s called ‘compartmentalization’.”

Everyone gasped audibly, but none louder than Leo. Leonardo smirked at the personal attack and crossed his arms pointedly.

[missgarnet]

Stay

pairing: king taehyung x reader

word count: 5.4k

Genre:royal au/fluff/angst

Summary: There are boundaries and rules for interacting with royals, Y/N's been around long enough to figure them out for herself. But what happens when the widdowed king returns to the palace and she begins to see him as more of a person than a ruler. Can the two of them stay to put back the broken pieces left from their pasts, or will everything go wrong when the truth comes out?

Warnings: brief mentions of blood, brief mentions of death, brief mentions of child loss

Link to ao3

The sweat seeped into her nightgown, making the fabric cling to her shivering body. Her chest rattled with cough as her breath grew labored. Taehyung sat in the rocking chair by her side, studying the small crack in the arm rest as he tried to avoid seeing how small and frail she’d grown over the last few weeks. The pains started all too soon, the king grew worried as her hands pressed against her swollen stomach. It was too soon for both of them, and he was pulled away before the labor had truly even started. 

He paced in the hallways as her pained cries sounded out from behind closed doors. It pained him to see the pale faced nurses carrying armfuls of bloodied sheets away from where she layed, scared and alone without the one person who was supposed to be with her no matter what. They wouldn’t let him in the room, even after she was gone. Neither of them lived long, she was too young, too lively to go this soon. And the king’s child had barely even taken his first breath when things started going downhill. The physicians tried everything, but they couldn’t save either one. 

When you joined the palace staff, everything was in a state of mourning. The halls felt so empty without the queen, and chests of her belongings being sent away only made it worse. You knew that the king had requested you to take this position, but he had refused to see you or anyone that he didn’t have to. Soon after the palace grew even emptier as the king began preparing for a trip to the Southern Palace, where he would be staying with the Parks and one of the lesser Kim families. His absence and lack of greeting toward you was unusual compared to your previous experience, but you didn’t mind. Oftentimes you found it better to avoid meeting with nobles, especially those employing you. 

Your job was difficult enough without the added stress of having to interact with them. Most nobles had no clue how to run their staff, it was much easier for them to pay someone else to make sure their manors ran smoothly. It was your job to make sure the kitchens were stocked and well staffed, as well as seeing to the gardens, art collections, and countless rooms to be cared for. You’d been hesitant at accepting this offer but as soon as Duchess Min heard, she demanded you take this opportunity. She was a force to be reckoned with, and yet the duchess was your favourite household to work in. It was one of the more unusual places you’d worked, normally a duchess would be reserved and follow her husband's lead. However, she was more intimidating than him and that’s saying a lot. You’re half convinced she would have murdered you herself if you didn’t take her advice on going to the palace. If only she could see you now. 

In the years since you joined the palace you were sure to make one thing very clear. Even though the king had not returned, your standards would be just as if he were in that very room. You had made it a point to keep every room spotless, and a constant rotation of culinary experts for when there were guests. Unfortunately, there were certain rooms you were unable to access and the annoyance of a couple locked doors that not one of the staff could find keys for. Which was why it struck you as quite unusual that one of those damn doors had found itself slightly ajar, as if someone had found the key. You nearly had a heart attack when you saw the man curled up on the floor. 

“Excuse me. What in the hell do you think-” you freeze mid sentence as you take in the man before you, he wore no crown and looked different from the portraits you had seen but it was impossible not to recognise him. The man sitting there before you was none other than the king. You dropped into a curtsy as you frantically attempted to make up for your mistake, “Your majesty, I am so so sorry. I was not made aware of your arrival and the open door just gave me a bit of a fright. No one’s been able to open most of this wing and seeing you here startled me.”

The king sniffles, looking so small for a man of his importance, “I- I didn’t want to be announced. I thought it would be best if I had time to adjust, being here it’s just a little much. And besides I’d rather not have people seeing me like this. It’s shameful really. Kings don’t cry.”

You carefully take a step forward, watching for him to react or ask you to leave but instead he stays still as you seat yourself on the floor across from him. “Maybe not, I don’t know enough about kings to say one way or the other. But I know people, and people need to cry sometimes, and yell, and laugh, and just express whatever it is that they’ve got trapped inside of their heads.”

“I’m not just a person though, there’s too many expectations for me to do that.”

“Maybe not,”you pause for a moment trying to think of the right words. “What if even just for a moment, you and I sit here and just be a normal person for a little while. We can talk or just sit in silence, but without all the pressures and responsibilities of everything else.”

“One condition, I don’t want anyone to know you found me like this. I just needed a minute, please don’t tell anyone.”

“Your Majesty, it’s my job to notice everything and nothing at the same time. Trust me, your secret’s safe with me. I’ll do my best to make sure the staff allows you to have as much privacy as you need.”

“Thank you.”

Mina’s feet were pressing against your spine when you woke up before sunrise the next morning, for such a small child she really had a talent for taking the entire bed. As you slipped out from the covers, you couldn’t help but notice how sweet she looked as she curled herself into a little ball the second you got up. Getting dressed without waking her up was usually difficult but you had years of practice with this. You’d found it was easiest to start your day by being the among the first to be up and about in the palace. It gave you enough time to brew coffee for the other staff about to start their days, and a time and place where you didn’t have to worry about anyone else. That was before today of course. 

One thing you’d learned early on and come to rely on was the fact that most royalty did not know where anything was, and they made it a point to avoid the servants' side of everything. This was why you found it so surprising when you walked into the kitchen to find a certain king  attempting to figure out how to brew a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning,” he said, looking up at you with a boxy smile.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. Please forgive me for asking, but are you lost?”

He seems to find something entertaining in your response and proceeds to start laughing at this. “No, I’m pretty sure I was still in my palace last time I checked. I just thought it’d be easier for us to talk in your office, but you’re not using it.”

“I’ve found it’s easier to run everything if I’m the one going to them, so I never even opened the door to the staff office. This way I can move around and see what’s going on at all times. I can’t be in charge if I don’t know what is going on around me. I could start using it if that would make things easier on you, Your Majesty”

“No, I like the way you’ve been handling things. It's just that you’re quite a difficult person to keep track of. And I wish you wouldn’t call me that all the time, it’s exhausting having to hear your majesty this and your majesty that. I just get sick of hearing it so much.”

“It’s your title, what else would you have me call you?”

“Taehyung,” he grins. “Or Tae if you want. I think I’d rather just be myself around you, it’s one less person I have to worry about impressing.”

“Very well, Your- Taehyung.” You found your eyes wandering from the soft curls framing his face to his warm smile and lips that were begging to be- No, absolutely not he was your boss and a king, you could not start thinking of him like that. But maybe he wasn’t so bad, maybe the two of you could be… friends. 

“Do you want breakfast?”

“You can cook?”

“A little, I’m not very good at it but Jin’s been teaching me.” He seemed confident, so you figured what’s the worst that could happen and left the young king to attempt cooking on his own.

Turns out you were right to be concerned with him being in the kitchen, despite Jin’s lessons he had a long way to go before making anything unsupervised. Apparently the worst thing that could happen was not him breaking the eggs and leaving the shells in, but rather forgetting what he was making and almost setting the kitchen on fire. 

A few weeks later Taehyung had started meeting with various ladies of the court. You were aware of the arrangement but something bothered you about the sour attitude he had every time he returned from being with one of them. It was a peculiar feeling that made you want to reach out and comfort him. Even as you told yourself that this was just a platonic feeling, something innocent between friends, you couldn’t help but noticing a growing jealousy for these women. 

The door slammed behind the king as he returned from his meeting with Lady Nam. “Y/N, I’ll be in my office. Could you bring dinner up when you have the time?”

“Of course, I’ll have it finished immediately.” By the time you got to the office, you found the door half open like it was the first time you met. “Taehyung, I brought food, and I asked them to make a couple desserts just in case. I don’t mean to overstep, but what’s going on? You seemed upset.”

“It’s nothing, I just didn’t think they’d be so forward with their intentions. I know I’m supposed to be meeting with the noble ladies as a way to find another wife, but I didn’t think they’d be presenting me with a marriage contract the first time I ever meet her.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine someone having the audacity to do that, especially under the circumstances.”

“It’s not your fault, most nobles don’t get to marry someone they already care for. My wife and I didn’t really get along in the beginning, but I cared for her. We ended up becoming friends as time went on. It’s not much but it’s better than most. I feel a little bad for admitting this, but I wanted more this time.”

“It’s not wrong to want something more. I don’t know if this will help but I don’t think loving someone else doesn’t mean you cared for her any less.” The two of you sat in silence for a moment, what you said was true but it also wasn’t your place. You were there to serve and manage the household affairs, advice was overstepping and you had learned better.

“I know. It’s just so much harder than I thought it would be, moving on. She used to make jokes about how something wasn’t her problem, that it was something for my next wife to deal with. Sometimes I wonder if she knew, especially towards the end. She was just so small.” He lowered his head, curls falling before his saddened eyes. “I just want someone to love me, I want someone to stay.”

“Tae, I can’t promise much but please know you have my unwavering loyalty. I’m here to stay however long you’ll want me for.” You were falling and you just couldn’t stop. There were boundaries kept in place for a reason, but somehow you just kept crossing them for the young king. It felt like he was a little broken too, and maybe just maybe you could be the one to put each other back together. You couldn't stop yourself from pushing the hair out of his face and meeting his eyes with yours. This is the closest the two of you have been, barely a breath apart. 

The two of you were so focused on each other that neither noticed the door opening. That was until a certain small child came tugging at your sleeve. “Y/N, it’s snowing! There’s really snow outside! Can we go? Please!”

A panic snapped you out of whatever strange feeling had come over you just moments before. You grabbed Mina by the hand and began guiding her towards the door, “Mina! What did I tell you about wandering around? You could have gotten lost or hurt, and you know there’s places that are off limits for a reason.” You turn back to the king, trying your best to repair the situation. “Your Majesty, I am so sorry. I didn’t expect-”

“Please don’t worry about it, I actually like kids but there’s not many around here.” He walks over to where you’re still holding on to Mina and kneels so that the two of them are almost the same height. “Hi, I’m Taehyung. And you know, I think we might have some extra winter coats around here if you want to go and see the snow up close. I think I might take a break and join the two of you, if that’s alright with Y/N.”

“Please Y/N, please? I’ve never got to see it in person.” Mina says turning around and begins tugging on your skirts this time, to your surprise Taehyung joins in her pleas asking you to join them. 

“Fine you can go,” you tell them as you try to hold in your laughter. “But you have to put on coats and gloves first, both of you. It’s too cold out and I don’t want either of you getting frostbite.”

“Y/N, you’re coming with right? It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Why not? I don’t see the harm in a little snow.” The three of you dug through the little storage closet, tossing gloves and hats around at each other until you had matching sets. Coats were much easier to find, they were already organized by size to make things easier for staff.

For most places a first snow was barely enough to dust the ground and disappeared within a few hours at the most. However, this palace was unlike anywhere else you’d been. Somehow the snow had already formed a thick blanket across the grounds despite it’s unusually early arrival. It looked like something out of a fairytale and there was a certain kind of magic in the air as the three of you stepped into the gardens that day. 

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your heart as you watched the two of them playing together in the snow. He looked carefree and unburdened for the first time since you’d met, and Mina finally got the chance to play like most kids her age. The two of them were running circles around the snow, chasing each other in a game of tag. It came as quite the shock when you felt the cold ball of ice striking you in the side, especially when you took in the king’s laughter and his reddened cheeks from the cold. Without even thinking you sunk your hands into the snow and packed it into a dense little sphere, chucking it in his direction as hard as you could. 

Mina laughed as she watched your snowball glide directly over her head and strike Taehyung hard enough to make him lose his balance. Tae flopped back in the snow, and you began to worry you’d hit him too hard. Getting closer you notice Mina throwing herself down in the snow next to him, the two of them flapping their arms as they lay on their backs.

“Y/N, come help us. We’re making snow angels!” Mina calls from her spot on the ground. You sigh as you plop down between them, trying to ignore the cold ice seeping into your gloves as you wave your arms through the snow. 

Mina and Tae hop up from their spots and each hold out a hand to help you up. The mischievous look in their eyes should have given their little plan away, but somehow you took their offer anyway. Sure enough they started to help you up right before letting go and laughing as you fell back into the snow. 

You ended up having to find a way out of the snow on your own and turned to look at the little figures left in the snow. Three little angels laid out side by side, the bigger ones were messy and rough around the edges but the littlest one was perfect. “Mina, how do you make a perfect snow angel your first time?”

“Because I am an angel.” She says with a smug little grin.

“Sure you are,” you add. “Speaking of Angel, your favourite person is going to be here pretty soon.”

“Who’s coming here?”

“Angel, it’s a nickname we have for Duchess Min. A bit ironic really, but you’re supposed to be meeting with her sister-in-law and they’re all coming with.”

You’d gotten used to the duchess dropping in whenever she felt like it, but with the king finally back it seemed as though she’d finally have to announce her arrival like everyone else. It was always exciting to see her, but she made it a point to see you on as little short of notice as possible. This time you’d been in the kitchens planning menus for their stay at the palace when you were given the news.

“Excuse me Miss,” one of the younger maids interrupts “The Duke and his family have arrived.”

She had barely gotten the warning out when Duchess Min burst through the door and practically launched herself into your embrace. “Y/N darling, I’ve missed you so much! The manor has been positively dreadful without you. I swear they’re trying to drive me completely and utterly insane.”

“Angel, I’m pretty sure you were already that way when we got married,” the duke jokes from across the room.

“Oh please, I’ve had about enough of that nickname. I am a delight compared to you. Thank you very much. And besides I’ve missed my best friend, Y/N it's bad enough that you left me there all alone but now I have to deal with his bore of a sister.”

Yoongi sighed heavily at his wife’s remarks, “My Love, how many times do I have to ask you to stop calling my family whor-”

“Bore Yoongi, BORE with a B. I am quite aware of the fact that you wish to turn a blind eye to your sister’s recent flings. I however enjoy being able to express myself in the way that I see fit, so I would advise you to stop trying to censor the language I use. It’s bad enough I have to deal with your sister, I don’t need this too.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to have the manor to yourself again.”

“Yes, exactly! Because when we have the manor to ourselves we can,” she pulls her husband down by his collar and begins whispering something in his ear that makes the confident duke grow flustered.

You made it a point to clear your throat at this moment, drawing their attention away from each other for the time being. “I just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. And you’re supposed to be meeting the king to chaperone your sister and him, not planning whatever it is the two of you can’t wait to get home and tear each other's clothes off for.” 

“There’s where you’re wrong, A few of our guards are serving as chaperones. We’re here to visit you because my wife is insistent on proving another one of her theories.”

“Oh, please it’s not a theory,” the duchess scoffs. “I received very reliable information about a certain situation within the palace, and I wanted to verify it for myself. And now that we’re here it’s obvious that I was right once again.”

You can’t help but sigh at your friend once again interfering in other people’s personal lives, “What is your brilliant discovery this time?”

She beams at your choice of words, ignoring the sarcasm surrounding them, “He’s not going to take an interest in Yoonji.”

“You don’t know that, Yoonji can be sweet and charming when she wants to be. And you’ve seen how great she is at negotiating for whatever she wants. It’s a little amusing how similar the two of you are.”

She made a horrible gagging noise at this, “No I am nothing like my sister-in-law. Why would you even- Yoongi stop laughing, it’s not funny. I would not care if you compared me to anyone else, but her.”

“Very well, Angel.” you say with a smirk. “If you don’t mind me asking why do you think you’re right about this.”

“Trust me, I know how to read people and there’s something there that’s…” your friend sighed for a moment in thought. ”He’s already got someone else in mind.”

“So, how did things go with Yoonji?” You asked later that night, passing a pastry to Taehyung.

“Better, I suppose. At least this one didn’t send a marriage contract during our first meeting. I just don’t think that any of these women are what I want.”

“Tae, you have to give her a chance. At least try, maybe we could ask them to stay with us for the holidays.”

“Us?”

“Yes, there’s only a few days til Christmas and I usually take Mina to spend it with the Mins. But I was thinking maybe I could stay here this year, spend Christmas with you.”

Before you knew it, Christmas eve had arrived and the three of you had set out to mark trees for the staff to bring in. Each of you held a little red ribbon to be tied around a Christmas tree of your choice. The Mins were supposed to join, but Angel had sent a note this morning that they had all been feeling under the weather and were exhausted from last night’s festivities. 

“I think this one’s my favourite so far.”Tae announced, already choosing a tree within moments of entering the tiny forest.  “I can just see us sitting around this tree drinking cocoa and unwrapping gifts in the morning.” 

“Not in the Great Hall, it’s too small,” you felt bad the second you spotted the disappointment in his eyes and began to take the ribbon in your hand to tie around the tree. “But I haven’t picked mine yet, and maybe we can have a smaller Christmas tree just for us.”

Mina came running up to grab your hand, practically dragging you off in the opposite direction. “Y/N, look at this one! It’s small like me, I want this one!”

You take a quick lap around the miniature tree, there was no denying it’s lack of size nor it’s lack of branches. It’s top was barely past your knee, and the few branches it had were either short or nearly broken off. “Mina, I don’t know about this one.”

Tae seemed to notice the child’s disappointment from afar and rushed to make things right again. “Maybe we could put it in a planter and bring it with, so it can get even bigger and stronger.”

Mina smiled as the two of them tied the little ribbon around the tree. It became sort of a game between them at that point, trying to pick trees that were too small, large, or misshapen for the great hall. In the end the three of you had to choose quickly because it was starting to grow dark outside. 

The next morning you found that Angel and Duke Min had miraculously recovered from any ailment and were waiting in one of the parlors around the Christmas trees you had stayed up decorating the night before. They were seated as close as possible, each of them resting an arm or leg against the other. Hot cocoa steamed in the mugs on the table before them, but that was meant to be shared between the five of you.

“Where’s Yoonji?” you ask, eyeing your best friend. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t do anything to her.” Angel looked back at Yoongi and elbowed him as if trying to remind him of something.

“She actually didn’t meddle this time, Yoonji’s not much of a morning person and she’s lucky enough to not have someone dragging her out of bed at the crack of dawn.” Despite the tone of his voice, you could tell that he wasn’t cross with his wife. You knew from experience that he would do anything if it meant making her happy. 

Angel laughs at his complaints, “Oh please, I mentioned presents and he came running down the stairs.”

“Did someone say presents?” You looked up to see Tae rounding the corner with Mina shyly trailing behind. The two of them were dragging velvety red bags filled to the brim with boxes and bags for everyone. 

Tae sat in the armchair across from all of you as Mina nestled in beside you. Reaching in the bag, Tae began to pull out gifts calling out names from the miniature tags tied to each. The room buzzed with joy as each of you began tearing open the wrappings, even Tae was overjoyed as the Min’s surprised him with the presents they had snuck in the night before. 

Finally it was your turn to surprise them, getting up to reach around the back of the tree you retrieved the four little packages you’d hidden when the decorations were brought in. “It’s not much, but I wanted to get each of you something special.”

The room filled with little gasps of joy as they each saw the personal touch you’d put into each of their gifts. The Min’s had a strict no weapons for Christmas rule after an incident years before, but there wasn’t a rule to stop you from getting Yoongi cuff links in the shape of his sword. Admittedly you had bent the rule just a little when it came to Duchess Min’s gift, the necklace of angel wings surrounding a dagger was beautiful and the matching blade was hidden in the false bottom of the jewelry box for her to find the next day. 

Tae looked at the little glass case in confusion. “It’s a snowflake, sealed and preserved between the glass. I had it made that day we were in the gardens, it was the first sign of winter at the palace and the first snow we spent together. Something about it was too perfect to let go, so I wanted to keep even a small part of that day and give it to you.”

“It’s perfect,” he took your hand in his as he lowered himself onto one knee and pulled out a small jewelry box. “If I’m being honest there was one last present I was looking forward to for a very long time. Y/N, these past months I’ve spent with you have been the happiest I’ve been in my life. You make me feel loved, and I want nothing more than to do the same for you. So please Y/N will you marry me?”

“Your majesty,” you say as you pull yourself away from him.

“Taehyung, please,” he corrected with a hushed whisper.

“No, your majesty. I can’t do this. I’ve grown to love you over these last months, but my feelings don’t matter.”

“Then what does? If we both want this, who's to tell us any differently? I don’t care about you not being a noble or any other reason you don’t feel like you aren’t enough. Because you are more than enough, I love you and that’s all that matters” he remained there on his knees as if begging you to give him a chance.

Your voice raised barely above a broken whisper, “I’m not fit to marry you, because I’m not fit to be a queen.”

“Y/N,” he said cupping your face between his hands. “You are brilliant, self-assured, and unbelievably kind. If anyone’s qualified for this it’s you.”

“That’s not what I meant, it’s more than just being good at something.”

“Then what do you mean Y/N, you can tell me anything. Just please let me in, give me a chance because I’m not just going to give up when things get difficult.”

You take his hand in yours, “Tae, it’s a long story and trust me when I say it’s better off if you don’t know. I don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“It’s okay, nothing you say will ever change the way I see you right now. You are my world, and if you have a story you need to tell, I’m here to listen.”

“I can’t be queen because of something that happened years back, when I had first taken over the management of a noble house. One of the first things I learned was that you never say no to the baron. Anything he wanted, he got whether it was another drink, playing cards, or providing company for him and his guests. The baron I worked for took a very one sided interest in many of the women that worked for him, myself included. I’ll spare you the details, but I had my daughter nine months after he acted on this… interest.” you paused for a moment looking at his face for signs of the horror or pity you had seen in others who’d found out before him. But none of it was there, instead he held out his hand and waited for you to hold it.

With your hand in his, he gave a reassuring squeeze as if to remind you that he’s still there, “I’m alright, you can keep going if you want.”

“I had to leave the estate long before I had her, and when I returned I had to tell everyone that she wasn’t mine. We weren’t allowed to run a noble’s household if we were married or had kids, they thought it would be too much of a distraction. So I told them that she was my sister’s, she knows the truth but it’s still hard. I tried to hide it, but there’s still rumors and I can’t do that to you. This is my burden and I can deal with it, but I will not make it yours.”

“Y/N, you were right. I do see you differently now. I can see that you are more resilient than I ever thought. And I know that you would do whatever it takes to protect those you love, even if it means holding back part of your story to avoid upsetting them. You may not want to talk about what happened now, but you might someday. I want to be the person you can tell everything to… So I am asking you, forget I’m a king for a moment and please, will you marry me?”

“Taehyung I-”

From across you hear your best friend’s voice interject, “Y/N, if you don’t get it together and say yes already, I will leave my husband and marry him myself.”

“Angel, you know just as well as I do that’s not possible.”

“They didn’t need to know that,” the duchess pouts as she leans back against her husband’s chest. You chuckle at seeing them so relaxed around each other.

Tae clears his throat as if to remind you of the question still hanging heavily in the air. “Yes, a million times yes.”

As the five of you sat around the fire basking in the joy and warmth of the new engagement, the sound of carollers began to echo throughout the halls. Tae pulled you closer and the two of stayed curled up together as the Min’s began passing the cocoa around along with the flask Angel had hidden in a secret pocket. “Merry Christmas Y/N”

“Merry Christmas Tae Tae.”

[kanri-tea]

The TDD get punted into the world of Demon Slayer via illegal microphone, starring:

Ramuda as Tanjiro

Jakurai as Nezuko

Ichiro as Zenitsu

Samatoki as Inosuke

None of them know what's going on and they're all disasters (they blame Ichiro though, this anime-esque shit has got to be Ichiro's fault). The only mostly responsible one has been turned into a demon and Ramuda is panic-screeching in his mind.

Ramuda and Jakurai live together. Jakurai runs a small cliniic and orphanage which he's been running for quite some time before he stumbled upon a child Ramuda and took him in.

Ramuda was not a happy camper when he comes to and comes face to face with Jakurai, but since they're in the Edo period ("We are in the Taisho era, Amemura-kun" "Ugh, whatever! Close enough!"), he figures it'll be safer if he sticks with the old man.

Ichiro is an orphan that gets picked up by Kuwajima like Zenitsu, but no electrocution for this boy. He's a diligent student, but can't seem to really pick up any other of the Thunder Breathing forms other than the first one because of plot device

Samatoki grows up in the forest as well, but he is a civilized person no matter what anyone may say. Plus, he has some experience of survival cooking thanks to Rio. His Beast Breathing is a combination of influence from the wild animals that he grows up with and memories of Rio and Jyuto

Ramuda returns from selling coal when Muzan kills everyone at the clinic and turns Jakurai into a demon, paralleling canon with Tanjiro and Nezuko. Jakurai doesn't recognize Ramuda at first, mind still stuck in the in-between of human and demon. He doesn't eat anyone but he does nearly attack Ramuda when he gets back but regains his mind at the last second.

After an encounter with Giyuu and Jakurai proving that he's still very much himself, Ramuda travels to find Urokodaki with a child sized Jakurai in a basket. It is very awkward for both of them and Ramuda promises that he'll find a way to turn Jakurai back into a human

Ramuda is very much panicking and screeching in his mind because what the fuck is going on and why the fuck do demons of all things suddenly exist and Ichiro, this is totally your fault, what is this, an anime???

Jakurai is a very tired (tm) and kinda pissed that he has to rely on Ramuda now. He's also a little mad about having to be the size of a toddler most of the time

Ramuda learns Water Breathing while Jakurai starts rehoning his assassin skills. He might be a healer now, but with how dangerous this world seems to be, well, someone has to watch Ramuda's back.

Along the way, Ramuda figures out that he can use his microphone's ability along with Water Breathing. His sense of smell is also ridiculously good for some reason, which is helpful to find demons, he supposes. Jakurai on the other hand, finds out that not only can he use blood demon arts, but also use his microphone's ability, except it's more like he can help others regenerate/heal fast. They're both really weirded out, but hey, at least its useful???

Ramuda ends up meeting Ichiro on his way to Tsuzumi Mansion. To say that they're surprised would be a huge understatement. Ichiro had assumed that he was alone while Ramuda had assumed that it was only him and Jakurai. Jakurai is conveniently asleep in the box when this happens and it slips Ramuda's mind to tell Ichiro. Ichiro is slightly suspicious though, because his sense of hearing is really good and he's pretty sure there's a demon in there, but Ramuda wasn't saying anything???

Samatoki is trapped in Tsuzumi Mansion and cursing himself for rushing in without a plan when he encounters Ichiro with a civilian kid. While surprised to see each other, they nearly start fighting before being reminded that hey, they're kinda in a demon lair right now.

When Ramuda, Ichiro, and Samatoki finally reunite, it's a bit bittersweet because on one hand, they're really glad they're not the only ones here, but on the other hand, why are they in this weird ass world?

Also, Ichiro and Samatoki question, if the three of them were here, where was Jakurai?

"Uhhh... Yeeeah... About that... The old man is kinda, uh." Ramuda sweats his way through this conversation, "I'll tell you guys when we get to the Wisteria house, 'kay?"

When they finally get to the House with the Wisteria family crest ("Holy shit, that old lady is creepy." "Stop being a baby, Ichiro.") Ramuda finally reluctantly reveals what happened to Jakurai.

"So, about the old man. We kinda ended up together," Ramuda starts explaining, "Like he ran a clinic and everything and I lived there for a while."

"Eh, did he stay behind?" Ichiro questioned, confused to where this conversation was going. Samatoki is nodding next to him, confused.

"About two years back, we... the clinic got attacked by a demon. Muzan," Ramuda breaths, "And the old man..."

Ichiro and Samatoki's eyes widen. Was Jakurai dead?

"... Jakurai got turned into a demon," Ramuda finally admits. He turns towards the box and raps his knuckles on it.

"Yo, old man. Are you coming out or not? You've been asleep in there for ages!"

The door of the box swings open, a tiny hand revealing itself before its owner crawls out, purple hair splayed everywhere.

"What," Samatoki breathlessly stares, "the fuck."

A toddler-sized Jinguji Jakurai stares back, muzzled mouth quirking down and an unimpressed look plastered on his child-like face.

Both Ichiro and Samatoki are very, very surprised. They quickly agree to help Ramuda find a way to turn Jakurai back into a human. If they happen to spend a couple minutes cooing over how cute he looks, well that's no one else's business, now is it?

They learn that while Jakura has retained his mind, his body is still very much like a demon's. He can't stand in sunlight or eat human food. His energy comes from sleeping and while he can speak, but only when he's in his adult form. He's more or less non-verbal as a child.

Ichiro stews in his thoughts in the meantime. He's fairly sure this is the plot of an anime he saw once... He keeps quiet though because he's not 100% certain, but did the illegal mic seriously punt them into an anime?

Jakurai is very unhappy with what happened at Natagumo mountain and is even more unhappy with being stabbed multiple times while in the box while being put on trial. Honestly, what sort of barbaric trial is this? Hitoya would be so dissapointed.

When Sanemi tries to bait Jakurai using his own blood, Jakurai just sends a "I'm very exhausted and exasperated" look at Ramuda

"Oyakata-sama," Jakurai hears someone scream, "I will present to you the ugliness of what we call demons!"

He's mildly cranky at being woken up by all this chattering and being suddenly stabbed, but even that isn't able to distract him from the sudden scent of blood seeping into the box.

Sweet... But, no, Jakurai had sworn that he would not fall prey to these demonic temptations.

"Hey demon! It's time to eat! Sink your teeth on this!"

As the door of the box is ripped open, Jakurai frowns at the rudeness. The blood is tempting, yes, but more importantly...

Jakurai tilts his head to look at Ramuda. Are they serious?

No fucking duh! The look Ramuda shoots back is scathing and furious, though more because he was being restrained by the man with the snake then at Jakurai.

"Shinazugawa-kun, was it," he sighs as the people watching gasp. He's well aware that he's rather tall, even in the modern age.

"You shouldn't needlessly injure yourself," he grabs a roll of bandages and starts wrapping the young man's wound. The boy looks rather shocked and angry, but Jakurai didn't really have the energy to really care.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

Jakurai hears the confusion around him, but chose to ignore it. Giyuu and Ramuda could deal with the questions later, he decided, Jakurai was already exhausted from Natagumo mountain.

"Wait a second!"

Jakurai turns, finishing up wrapping the young man's arm.

"I thought the box was stupidly heavy, but you're like the size of a toddler normally," Ramuda starts, "Have I been basically carrying a shit-ton of medical supplies?!"

Jakurai rolled his eyes, shooting the most unimpressed look he could at the pink-haired gremlin, "Well someone has to take care of your injuries, no?"

"You - you stupid old man! I can't believe anyone calls you saint! Aaughh!! I hope you break your back!"

"That would most assuredly be very difficult to do with my regeneration. Though, I suppose object permanence is rather difficult for children like you."

Maybe they should tone down their arguments a little... nah. It effectively derails the meeting, which was the entire point of Ramuda's outburst, of course.

When Ramuda and Jakurai finally arrive at the Butterfly estate, they find Ichiro with shrunken limbs ("The medicine sucks, but it's nothing worse than what sensei's given me before...") and Samatoki with a crushed throat ("Fuck... I was so weak..."). Ramuda is also in a lot of pain. Jakurai manages to recover fairly quickly with lots of sleep and spends a lot of their recovery time assisting the nurses.

Ramuda tries to figure out why he can do Hinokami Kagura and is very confused. Jakurai tiredly reminds him that it's probably because he used to watch Tanjuro, a former patient who lived at the clinic, do it. While Jakurai only knows about Hinokami Kagura as a ritual dance, he is reminded that the sick and frail man had died and left behind a pair of strange-looking earrings.

When training begins, Ichiro, Samatoki, Ramuda are motivated and stubborn to a fault, so they manage to learn Total Concentration: Constant. Ramuda also has a conversation with the Butterfly pillar, Shinobu ("Please do your best, Ramuda-kun. When I see you doing your best in my stead, I feel much better."), it makes him think back on his relationship with the Chuuoku. These people... They care a lot and they're fighting for their lives and humanity every day. They aren't even comparable to manipulations and cruelty of the Chuuoku, and Ramuda wonders a bit if he even wants to go back. Sure, there's Gentaro and Dice, but... here, he's not sick. He's not living day-to-day wondering if he'll outlive his usefulness. Here... he's able to stay at Jakurai's side.

Jakurai is the one to become friends with Kanao is this universe, because let's be honest here, Ramuda is really not the type to be nice out of the goodness of his heart, and Ichiro would probably do it, but he's kinda still recovering from nearly becoming a spider.

"You should listen to your own heart," the purple-haired demon hums. He's talking to her, but Kanao doesn't know why. The demon - Jakurai, she thinks - had been taking time out of his day since he'd recovered to talk to her.

She doesn't respond often. Her coin doesn't land on tails that often, but it doesn't seem to bother the tall demon. And tall he is, his height easily looming over her, but there's an aura of kindness and gentleness that tells Kanao that this demon wouldn't hurt her. It's a strange thing to think about a demon.

It's Jakurai's last day here. The other demon slayers, including the one that Jakurai travels with is leaving. Kanao isn't sure, but she thinks she might be a little sad about it. The demon has been good company, she has to admit to herself a little.

"People," she hears him breathe, "are driven by their hearts. If you live by your heart, your heart will grow stronger than ever."

Jakurai smiles down at her. It's gentle and warm and his eyes crinkle a little bit at the edges. He ruffles her hair a bit, a familiar motion over the course of the month.

She knows it's time for him to leave when he gets up. He leans over and straighten outs the butterfly in her hair, giving one last kind smile.

"Live by your heart's desire, Kanao. And stay healthy."

With that, he leaves, leaving Kanao behind contemplating his words. Could she really live like that? Live by her heart's desires...? There was something in the kind demon's words and smiles that made her think that maybe, just maybe... she could.

Samatoki and Ramuda's first impression of Rengoku is that he's a weirdo. Ichiro on the other hand thinks he's kinda cool. Jakurai is asleep and therefore doesn't care.

When they're put asleep by Enmu, they end up dreaming about their respective division (sans Jakurai). It's also a bit of a harsh awakening that they've all gotten pretty complacent of this world and that they need to find a way to get back to the modern age ASAP.

When Rengoku is nearly dead because of Akaza, Ichiro, Samatoki, and Ramuda are inconveniently a little bit attached to the strange Hashira. As a desperate last resort, Ramuda gets Jakurai to try and heal the man. After all, they were all sick of the people they cared about dying and if this could save him...

"There's no point in shouting now," Ramuda hears the hashira call out from behind him. His vision is blurry from tears, and distantly, he recognizes the resigned tone in the man's voice. Rengoku Kyoujuro was had already accepted his death as inevitable.

"The wound on my stomach is opening," the man tells Ramuda, "And your injuries aren't minor either."

Samatoki is watching silently and Ramuda can see out of the corner of eye that Ichiro is making sure Jakurai doesn't get killed by the sun.

Wait. Jakurai. The old man could heal Rengoku, right?

It takes a moment of shouting to Samatoki and Ichiro to convey his idea, but even as Rengoku is staring at them with a single, intense eye, they manage to get Jakurai and Rengoku into the shaded trees of the forest nearby.

"Ramuda-kun," Jakurai quietly says, before focusing his attention on Rengoku's injuries. It's not a promise, Ramuda knows, but Jakurai is a doctor through and through. He'll do his best to ensure that Rengoku survives, he knows this.

Rengoku is watching them confused, a couple of protests having spilled out, but he's ignored in favor of getting Jakurai over as quickly as possible.

Ramuda has seen Jakurai heal a couple of people over the years with his ability, but it's always amazing to see it like this rather than through a microphone.

"Hypnosis Microphone: Medication," Jakurai breathes, and as his hands glows, the injuries beneath start to mend themselves. It starts off slow, but as color returns to the hashira's cheeks and breathing evens out, Ramuda knows that it's working. Knows that Jakurai is doing everything he can to heal the man.

There's going to lots and lots of questions later, Ramuda knows, but for now he's glad. He's glad that Jakurai is here, that Ichiro and Samatoki are here, that he's not alone.

He's glad that he doesn't have to see another person that he cares about die.

[sixx02]

Heart Stopping

Art By the Wonderful MRK50!  Commissioned by Myself!

_________________________________________________________

Jaune had experienced a lot of things in his short life, getting new siblings, having the girl he was in love with step all over his heart, having his eldest sister knock him around like a rag doll.  Each of those times had stolen his breath away, only one of those had given him a good feeling afterwards.  However, for the first time since he’d been alive, he REALLY felt his breath stolen.  HIs heartbeat slowed as the vision of the goddess or near goddess in front of him took all of his attention, his peripheral vision blurring out everything else.  “Wow…”  Truly he was a poet.  

Still, he found himself nearly unable to speak or move, despite the distance he felt her gazing into his soul, much like he was doing with her.  His stomach flipped, he felt butterflies swarming around his gut, his heart flipped as his breath became ragged.  He’d never experienced feelings like this before, and despite how embarrassed he was.  He still found himself unable to look away, he half expected her to do the same, but she simply watched him, watched him with an increased amount of interest.  

She was absolutely stunning, in a lot of ways she reminded him of, “FLANNA!”  her, ya her.  Jaune’s attention snapped to Nora, who was practically fuming.  Before he could stop his exuberant sister she darted off.  

“This appears to be bad.”  Jaune turned his attention to his brother, an exasperated look on his face.  Lie simply shrugged as he began to walk after Nora.

“You!  What are you doing here?!”  Nora was practically steaming, how dare this harlot show her face here!  She thought they’d left her behind back home, but no here she was!  Though… she looked a little different, possibly going for a new look, well she’d have none of that.

“I… I’m sorry?”  Pyrrha was incredibly confused, and a little scared.  She’d been watching the newcomers with piqued interest, well she’d been staring at the blonde boy possibly a little too much if she was actually being honest.  Then all of a sudden the orange girl made her way towards her, calling her Flanna?  She’d never heard that name before, how peculiar.  Right back to the girl in front of her.

“You’d better be sorry!  What did I tell you about staying away from us?!”  Oh this was bad, Nora was angry, and when she was angry bad things happened.  Jaune hurried forward, Lie on following along in pace.

“Nora!”  Both boys grabbed a side of their smaller sister.  “Nora!”

“What?!”  She struggled against the two boys, pulling them along with her.  

If there was one thing Pyrrha understood from this strange encounter, it was that the smaller girl was strong, strong enough to drag her two male friends along with her.  She herself hadn’t realized she’d sensed the danger till she noticed that she’d already taken a defensive stance just in case an altercation happened.  She just hoped they wouldn’t bother the other students too much.  

“Nora that’s not her!”  Jaune was doing his best to calm his little sister, hopefully she’d listen to reason.

“What?!  What do you mean it’s not her!  They look exactly the same!”  Thankfully Nora had stopped, her attention now fully on Jaune.  

“What?  No they don’t!  Flanna’s hair is nowhere near as gorgeous, and her eyes aren’t even close to how shining hers are!”  And like that, Jaune realized he was talking aloud, his mouth snapping shut shortly after.  

.

Nora paused, turning towards the girl she started to see it too, “Oh…”  That’s really all she could say on the matter, she hadn’t meant to scare anyone!  She just thought it was that harlot who broke Jaune’s heart, and she’d be damned if she let her or anyone else do it again!  

Still, she wasn’t sure she could trust this newcomer, she saw the way her big brother looked at her, even more so she saw the way she looked back!  That was just asking for bad news, he’d been burned before, and again she’d be damned if she let anyone else hurt him.  “Sorry…”  It was a half hearted apology, but it was the best the girl in front of her was going to get.  Still, she silently fumed, at least till she felt Lie’s hand on her shoulder.  Turning towards her other brother she calmed down as they met eye contact.  “I’m sorry… I thought you were… someone else.”  

“I apologize on her behalf as well.”  Lie simply smiled, choosing to keep his apology for Nora on the short side.

Pyrrha simply nodded, she was feeling many things right now, confused, a little exhausted, and a little scared.  But, at the very least it didn’t seem that the orange haired girl… or Nora as they’d called her, well it didn’t seem like her anger was actually directed at her.  She was curious, but it was impolite to ask these things of people she’d just met.  “I uhm… that’s alright, apology accepted.”  She finally relaxed, lowering her guard.

Jaune took a breath, at least Nora’s little rampage had done something good.  He felt his heart calm, and a new found amount of courage entered his chest.  “I’m sorry too, please forgive us, well… I mean you already did… but still!  Uhm… sorry…”  Wow he was finding it rather hard to talk.  “Nora’s… she’s just an overprotective sister”  

“Sister?”  Oh!  She hadn’t meant to say that outloud, but the two didn’t look anything alike.  Though if she squinted she could sort of make it out.  Nora did have turquoise eyes, and the boy had, well he had the most stunning clear sapphire colored eyes, Pyrrha had never seen eyes like his before.  “I’m sorry!”  Her face flushed in embarrassment, perhaps this wasn’t something she should be asking aloud, or at all.

The trio simply chuckled in response, “It’s okay, we get that a lot.  Oh uhm… I’m Jaune, Jaune Arc.  Short, Sweet, Rolls off the tongue lad… OUCH!”  Jaune jolted up as Nora slammed her heel into his foot.

“Jaune!  What did I tell you about that terrible line?!”  Nora obviously didn’t want to hear it, neither did Lie apparently, he simply rolled his eyes at his siblings antics.  

“But!  Dad said…”

“Jaune… dad’s advice isn’t meant to be taken literally.  Like, when he says all you need is confidence, he means confidence in yourself, not to fake it.  You should listen to mom’s instead.”  Lie’s words caused him to pause, right Lie was right…

“Right I’m sorry… I’m just a bit nervous.”  He didn’t really want to expand on why he was so nervous, not when the reason he was nervous was the incredibly gorgeous girl in front of him.  “I uhm… I’m Jaune Arc, third child and first son of the Arc family.”  

As Jaune reached his hand out, Pyrrha found herself a little flustered, and a little lost.  People rarely approached her, she’d always come off as intimidating, and scary.  She couldn’t even remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to introduce themselves first.  As she took his hand she felt her heart flip in her chest.  This was a nice feeling, hopefully her parents were right, maybe she’d be able to make friends after all.  “I’m Pyrrha… Pyrrha Nikos.”  She smiled, and for the first time in a long time her smile reached all the way.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Jaune Arc…”  She paused, “and for what it’s worth I quite like the name.”  Crimson began to spread across her cheeks as she realized she’d just flirted.  

Crimson also began to spread across Jaune’s face, he hadn’t expected that to work, his track record with flirting was non existent, mostly cause he hadn’t bothered in a long time.  “I… thank you… Pyrrha’s also an incredibly gorgeous name.”  Oh… “I… uhm… u… I meant pretty…”

Both of them stood there, frozen as to what to do next, till Nora spoke up instead.  SNAP  Both statues turned towards the sound of a scroll taking a picture.  Nora stood there with a massive grin on her face.  “Heheheh~  Wait till mom sees this!”  

If their faces had been simply crimson before, they were now an intense and dark scarlet.  

“Good job Jauney~!”  Nora was obviously happy for her brother, though she was over exaggerating at the moment, but this was nice!  Jaune never talked with other people, well people that weren’t family.  Heck, he did so less than herself or Lie!  Stuffing her scroll in her pocket she stepped forward.  “Howdy Pyrrha!  Again sorry for threatening ya like that before!  Though if you break Jauney’s heart I break your legs!”  

“I… uh… uhm….”  Pyrrha felt like she was a deer lost in the headlights.  She didn’t even know if she liked Jaune yet!  Though he was quite dashing, and appeared to be rather kind, if not a little dorky.  Though, that wasn’t a bad thing, not in the slightest.

“Alright Nora that’s enough.”  Jaune had finally snapped out of his stupor.  Withdrawing his hand, regrettably, from Pyrrha’s grasp.  “UHm… right, well the short orange haired tiny person you’ve been speaking to is Nora Valkyrie Arc, my younger sister.”

“OH!  Getting brave in front of your new girlfriend are you?  You’re in kneecap popping distance Jauney~!”  Though she spoke, her voice was far from threatening, more jubilant than anything else.

Jaune simply rolled his eyes, “And the silent one over here is our brother Lie Ren Arc.”  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Pyrrha.  I apologize for our sister’s… behavior.”  Lie simply eyed Nora who shrugged in response.  

“It’s alright.  It is a pleasure to meet you three~”  Despite everything that happened, Pyrrha was happy!  People were talking to her, though she was curious, none of them looked even closely related but they all had the same last name and had introduced themselves as siblings.  For now she’d stow that away for later, she was just happy she’d gotten to meet new people.  

The lights began to dim as the headmaster made his way out to introduce himself.  Jaune paid no heed to the dimming lights or the headmaster, instead he continued to watch Pyrrha.  She was really pretty… and she seemed really nice.  Though, even as his hopes grew he still heard the little bit in the back of his head.  You’re going to fail, don’t bother, she’ll just leave you too~  He bit his lip as he turned his attention towards the front.  His heartbeat slowing to a near stop, right he didn’t have the best luck with these things, best not to try.

[seventfics]

Blind Owl

Written for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​

Prompt: Temporary or permanent blindness Relationships: Triss Merigold/Philippa Eilhart Rating: M Content Warnings: None (Mild Gore, Blood and Injury) Summary: It's hard, but Triss finds a way to help Philippa.

Read on AO3

* * *

“Philippa.”

At the mention of her name the sorceress turns, her head held high. Too high, Triss notes, to be facing her directly.

The edges of the blindfold over Philippa’s eyes are stained red.

“Triss. I must say, of all the things that have happened today? I didn’t expect to meet you.”

Triss quirks a smile at her. “Disappointed?”

“No, never,” she says with a graceful wave of her dirtied hand. “Surprised. I overheard that all the mages had dipped from Novigrad. I should have known you would stay behind.”

“I wasn’t going to, to be honest. Geralt convinced me.”

“Yes, he’s good at that, isn’t he?”

Triss’ portal had taken them from Sigi Reuven’s bathhouse to her small room at the Rosemary and Thyme. It’s not her room, really, but a kindness of Geralt’s friends, and one she immediately took up. Better than the Bits, where she lived in tight quarters on a lopsided building. Now she has actual furniture she picked herself, a full bed that can support her weight without sinking, and a lock on her door. It is much more to her liking.

Philippa would hate her decor, if she could see it. They’ve always had different taste in furniture.

“Circumstances aside…I’m glad you’re with us, Phil.”

Philippa hums. She walks the room carefully, a hand tense with magic held forward to sense for objects. “And what are the circumstances, exactly?”

From her pocket, Triss brings out an agate.

“Geralt stumbled upon this, some time ago.” The stone glimmers from old traces of Philippa’s magic. “You want the Lodge back together. Well, so do we.”

“Ah. Our interests align.”

Though she is blind, Philippa props herself neatly on the lone bed’s edge as Triss explains the looming threat of the Wild Hunt. In all things she is flawless artistry. Her hands cross over a hip, as she lifts her legs to lounge over Triss’ bed—and oh, how familiar, the sight of her like that. It distracts her mid-speech more than once.

“In my state,” she drawls, gesturing to her blindfold, “I am not much help.”

Triss is less artful, but just as coquette with her lilting voice. “You are, Philippa,” and more seriously, she adds, “You were the best of us.”

“Quite. You understand that this is a matter most crucial for the survival of magic.”

After a moment’s pause, Philippa sits upright against the half a dozen pillows Triss hoards at the back. She presses a hand to her temples, sighing as if displeased by something.

It is the closest sign she’s going to give to her exhaustion. Her pain.

Triss’ heart aches to help. But Philippa is proud. She is strong on her own, and protective of that right. She would not accept an ounce of pity nor mercy, no matter how well-intended.

Years of her acquaintance have taught Triss how to work around that.

“We need you at your best. Phil,” she says, sitting by the weary sorceress to take one of her hands between her own.

Philippa tilts her head up then. Again, too high, and slightly left of Triss’ ear.

“Tell me what I can do.”

* * *

The wet stones under her fingertips harbor the cells of Philippa’s experiment. It’s grotesque, she knows. Some sections have grown beyond control, eye-masses with mutated pupils, multiple irises, some even larger than a megascope’s crystal. But as Philippa does her best rebuilding the Lodge, reforming allyships, and planning the Wild Hunt’s defeat, Triss must do this unpleasant work. For Philippa.

She nearly slips and falls down to her doom twice. The stones are at such a precarious altitude, at a precise distance from the cavern waterfall to promote cell growth without washing off the results. What was Philippa thinking? Growing eyes in such a dangerous place?  

But here she is, carefully extracting the cells from the stone with her magic. She suspends them in a sterile magic seal, to store in her purse. For some reason, that makes her laugh, a sound that echoes back to her ears three times. She has Philippa’s eyes in her bag. Philippa’s beautiful eyes that had been gouged out by an angry and paranoid king. The amber of them is now indistinguishable from moss.

There is no time to rest between quests, and yet, once she is finished gathering the most that she can, Triss climbs to safer ground on shaky hands and knees, needing a second to breathe. Just a second. She cannot spare more than that to mourn, or cry, or remember how Phil used to tease her with just a stare and a raised brow.

It will be fine.

She will have new eyes. They won’t be the same, but Philippa won’t care. It’s just Triss who needs a second.

Back when they were a powerful Lodge of Sorceresses, and not the tattered survivors of imprisonment and war, Triss had mooned over the proud advisor to the crown of Redania. She didn’t make her attention obvious, but nothing goes under Philippa’s notice. The woman had made herself friends among spies and, like in all things, absorbed some of their skills.

They spent many nights in each other’s company. Sometimes, it was just to forget the cruelty of war, the greedy men who broke what they could not claim. Triss was lucky to be considered important. A sorceress has more worth as a power to be wielded than a woman to be abused.

And after the Battle on Sodden Hill, Triss had little trust in men.

Maybe that’s why she started this...liaison. And maybe it had been a shallow, poor excuse at first, but. Somewhere between disillusionment and distraction, her heart stole away in the owl’s nest of Philippa’s making.

“Do you think one day we could be happy?”

With a single candle to illuminate the room, Triss braves the words. This world is not made for them to find happiness, but they are powerful. They could make it so.

Philippa doesn’t move from her limp, careless spread over silk red sheets. The dim firelight paints her skin bronze. Nothing covers her, and it is beautiful.

“Happiness has never been my dream,” she says, her back to Triss. “My vision remains on the future of the Northern Kingdoms and the conservation of magic. A sorceress’ dream.”

That is Philippa. Sturdy. Focused. Her hedonist streak is a sparse creature, easily ignored.

Still, Triss hopes. That is who she is.

A long pause ebbs the nervousness buried in Triss’ chest. No one disturbs them, which is rare. No megascope call. No xenovox. No letter from either of the kings they serve.

Triss nearly dozes off, warm and content with things, when she hears a quiet, “Do you see me, in your dream of peace and leisure?”

“I do.”

She opens her eyes to the jostle of movement. Philippa has finally turned around to stare at her, her dark hair a wild fan over her shoulders and breast.

“Perhaps,” she says as she brings up fingers to play with the loose fire-red strands over Triss’ ear, “perhaps one of us should keep that possibility in our mind.”

* * *

“Ah, you’ve returned.”

The surprise lilt in Philippa’s voice tells her that she did not expect Triss so soon. She understood the hard undertaking of retrieving her growing eye cells from the deepest caves of her most secret hideout.

But where Philippa is clever, Triss is eager. Of course she would go as quickly as possible. The Wild Hunt does not wait. The witch hunters of Novigrad will not cease their chase. There is no time to be dallying.

“Well darling, hand them here," Philippa starts, her palms opened to receive Triss' hard-earned work, "so I can get to the matter of fusing them in.”

“Let me.”

She pauses at the plea. If she had eyes, Triss imagines she would have blinked.

But it’s only a short lapse in time, her mind running through a million scenarios.

Eventually, she nods, deeming the offer acceptable. “If you insist. But do not take too long, I hear our brave witcher is to return soon with our esteemed Cirilla, and I have much to talk with her about the future of our Lodge.”

Slowly, Philippa undoes her blindfold, unknowingly as Triss goes to kneel in front of her.

She does flinch at the sight. It is a nasty healing wound, dark and sunken where eyes should be. The skin around the sockets is black. But her own chest, glamored to hide snarled skin, bares worse scars from battle.

The cells take time to transfer from her purse, and they are not yet fully nurtured. They will have to grow into place. With Philippa’s magic to amplify sight, it would be enough to maneuver buildings and streets on her own. It is not by any means a perfect resolve.

Triss puts great care in choosing the healthiest cells. She tries not to cause too much discomfort—any sort of magical procedure that modifies the body would be painful, at the very least uncomfortable—but if it is unbearable, Philippa bears it.

When the last sliver of magic dissipates, Philippa voices a tense but honest, “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

There, still knelt between pale thighs and gazing up at the newly-healed flesh around mossy eyes, Philippa kisses her.

A wound Triss did not know she still had in her heart opens. Fresh blood pounds through her body like a blaze set free on a forest. It burns, the kiss like a match against her lips, and the world narrows down to them, now, together after everything. Her arms cannot hold onto Phil any harder as she kisses back with all her being. All her fire and pain and love that never waned.

When they separate, Phil whispers, “Do you still see me in your dream of the future?” like a secret that should not be named in fear of shattering it.

“I do.” They don’t have time to second-guess their dreams or the choices that got them closer to achieving them. Just a second is all they can spare, to doubt.

One day, Triss hopes they can finally stop running, stop fighting, scheming, surviving, and simply be.

It will be fine.

They stay in each other’s arms, breathing each other’s air. Philippa’s fingertip lingers above Triss’ lip, almost playful in its upwards tug. This time, when Triss stands up and Phil raises her head, it feels like she is looking at her.

“Well, then we better stop this world-ending business first.”

Triss gives her a smile through her eyes.

One day.

[wardensantoineandevka]

A couple of people remarked about the idea of swapping weapons on my post about fun weapon proficiencies in the Nein (Veth is proficient with the Star Razor!) and one person even wondered about a battle royale where everyone switched weapons.

Now, it’s not really possible to determine who would win that royale because that involves working out the many, many possibilities of not only a battle royale between the Nein (which is hard as is) but also working out all the weapon possibilities (which is even harder). But, I can make general assessments about the mechanics of each of the Nein using any of the other’s weapons.

My verdict is: Veth is absolutely screwed, Yasha is taking a bit of a hit here but she’ll be fine in most cases, Beau, Caleb, Jester, and Caduceus are having pretty normal days, and Fjord is learning it is goddamned sweet being a Pact of the Blade Hexblade. Fjord with Skingorger can and will quickly put the fear of Melora into anyone.

Here’s the breakdown:

Rules

This is a full weapon swap using the weapons the Nein has as of 2.106.

Each person forfeits all weapons they’re carrying and will receive two weapons: one primary, one secondary. These weapons cannot be a weapon they just forfeit nor of a type that matches their original weapons, i.e. Beau may have the Star Razor but she is not allowed the Staff of Withering because that is a quarterstaff like the Belabor.

It’s difficult to tell what other random weapons the group has on them. I’m reasonably sure that both Caleb and Fjord were idly mentioned to be carrying standard daggers, so I will include those for the sake of bringing the secondary weapon count to a round total of seven. Here is what I’m considering everyone to be originally armed with and what those weapons are categorized as for this exercise:

Fjord - Star Razor (primary), Inescapable Lash (secondary), dagger (secondary)

Beau - Belabor (primary), throwing stars (secondary)

Caleb - dagger (secondary)

Veth - Tinkertop Bolt Blaster (primary), shortsword (secondary), Dagger of Denial (secondary), pistol (secondary)

Jester - +1 handaxe (primary)

Caduceus - Staff of Withering (primary)

Yasha - Magician’s Judge (primary), Skingorger (primary)

I’m allowing secondary weapons to offer opportunity to make up for receiving a primary weapon someone cannot use at all, though it would still be possible for someone to receive two weapons that are basically useless to them. Anyone would be allowed to use their secondary weapon as their primary method of weapon attack, i.e. if Jester has both the Magician’s Judge and Veth’s shortsword, she may ignore the Magician’s Judge entirely to prefer the shortsword for her weapon attacks.

The assumption is made that everyone is attuned to all their weapons if required and has the slots to do so if they receive multiple weapons requiring attunement. I’m not about to run the math on who does and does not have slots to attune to multiple weapons without losing attunement to any other equipment. (Yes, I know Yasha does not, but my post, my rules.)

Similarly, I will not do the nitty gritty of whether or not Fjord, Jester, and Caduceus can use a greatsword or two-weapon fighting given that they also have shields because that would require dissecting how fastidious the table is about the interaction between shields and weapons, and, generally, I have the impression that the table does not care that much—and, frankly, neither do I.

The primary weapon Fjord gets will be considered his pact weapon. This is extremely important for a lot of mechanical things we’ll get into later including in that it prevents him from conjuring himself a weapon he likes better, i.e. he cannot dump the Tinkertop Bolt Blaster and conjure himself a standard longsword instead because he will always summon the Tinkertop Bolt Blaster. Like everyone else may, he can opt to prefer whatever secondary weapon he gets, but it will not be his pact weapon.

Regarding the endless debate on what sort of weapon Beau’s throwing stars are considered, I’m ruling them as darts here. This is complicated enough as is.

Beau’s Maelstrom Gloves, by the way? She’d keep those. They’re armor, not weapons. Additionally, I believe that the crystal on Caduceus’ staff is his arcane focus. I consider the crystal separate from the staff itself, so Caduceus keeps it. Whoever receives the Tinkertop Bolt Blaster is also assumed to receive standard bolts as well but will not have any of Veth’s special bolts.

Proficiencies

So, firstly, who’s proficient with each other’s weapons? Proficiencies are as follows, not including the original owner of the weapon.

Primary weapons:

Star Razor (longsword) - Yasha, Veth

Belabor, Staff of Withering (quarterstaffs) - everyone

Tinkertop Bolt Blaster (hand crossbow) - Fjord, Yasha

+1 handaxe - everyone who is not Caleb

Magician’s Judge, Skingorger (greatswords) - Fjord

Secondary weapons:

Inescapable Lash (whip) - Yasha

Throwing stars (darts) - everyone

Shortsword - Fjord, Beau, Yasha

Dagger - everyone

Pistol - nobody

Jester, Caduceus, Caleb

This bunch is basically unaffected by swapped weapons. Jester, Caduceus, and Caleb do not use weapons as a primary method of attack at all. Regardless of what weapon they receive, they have no reason to make weapon attacks of any sort due to the way they typically function in battle.

They all also have War Caster, so they can cast a spell when an opportunity attack is provoked in lieu of a weapon attack. If they do decide to wield whatever they receive, War Caster also allows them to do so without issue.

As a minor note, all the weapons—with the exception of the Tinkertop Bolt Blaster, the daggers, and the throwing stars which all use Dexterity—use a Strength modifier. Of these three, only Jester has the Strength score (+3) to even consider wielding the other weapons. But, Caduceus’ (+2) and Caleb’s (+1) Dexterity modifiers are also not overly great for weapon attacks either.

But, that’s an aside. None of them benefit. None of them lose anything. Spending their actions to make weapon attacks isn’t necessarily worth their time, even if they did happen to receive a weapon they both have proficiency in and had a high enough ability score to use with any degree of effectiveness. In terms of the additional magical abilities of the Star Razor and the Belabor, none of them benefit clearly enough to really consider spending their action using that property over casting one of their own spells; it would help, but it would be of a minor and niche benefit to these three.

Beau

Beau is generally unaffected due to being a monk and can punch things. She would lose the sweet benefits of the Belabor, but she will not be hamstrung by receiving a weapon that she cannot effectively use. Beau’s Martial Arts, which allows her to use her Dexterity modifier instead of Strength for her weapon attacks, applies only to Jester’s +1 handaxe, Veth’s shortsword, and the daggers. But, y’know: pop, pop.

The most ideal primary weapon Beau could receive is Jester’s +1 handaxe because she can actually use it. Should Beau receive both the handaxe and Veth’s shortsword, or the handaxe and a dagger, she would be able to use them in two-weapon fighting. This would allow her, for example, to use her action to make two attacks with the shortsword, then use her bonus action to make one attack with the handaxe.

Beau would also benefit from receiving the Tinkertop Bolt Blaster, given that it uses Dexterity for weapon attacks but she would not be able to add her proficiency modifier to her attack rolls. But it would give her opportunity for ranged attacks.

She cannot really do anything else with any other weapons, but receiving a weapon that is useless to her, such as Skingorger, will not hinder her combat ability in any manner.

Yasha

The biggest thing for Yasha is that she is taking a hit to her average damage output. The damage die on her greatswords is 2d6 + bonuses, greater than any other weapon in the pool. This is particularly true for Skingorger which has an extra 1d8 acid damage when invoked in exchange for a point of exhaustion. Her weapon attack rolls remain the same for all primary weapons because she has proficiency in everything, with exception of the hand crossbow where she has to use her Dexterity (+2) instead of her Strength (+4). This is true for all secondary weapons as well, with exception of the throwing stars and the pistol.

Her worst case scenario is receiving the Tinkertop Bolt Blaster. She would receive her proficiency bonus for it, but the barbarian Rage damage bonus only applies to melee weapon attacks made using a Strength modifier. Effectively using a hand crossbow also means she needs to stay at range, which negates the advantages of Yasha’s mechanical build. She could make up some ground here should the secondary weapon she receive be a melee weapon. If she receives both the crossbow and Beau’s throwing stars or the pistol and she is stuck in melee range? Well, unarmed strikes get the Rage damage bonus because “an unarmed strike counts as a melee weapon attack” and it uses her Strength modifier. Less than ideal.

The most ideal primary weapon she could receive is the Star Razor. It has the highest average damage output of the weapons available to her, and she can take advantage of its versatile property to wield it two-handed for 1d10 + bonuses damage. It could also possibly benefit her to cast Faerie Fire to attempt to gain advantage on attacks against a target should she have the space to spend an action doing so. The radiant damage biteback when hit with a melee attack is also a nice complement to her Rage resistances.

Other than the hit to her average damage output, Yasha would generally do alright, provided she does not receive two ranged weapons, but her average damage output will suffer a wide variable amount.

Veth

Veth is screwed in this scenario except in exactly one case.

She will receive her proficiency bonus with the Star Razor, either staff, and the handaxe. However, none of those weapons are finesse weapons nor are they ranged. This means two things: Veth must use her Strength modifier (+0) instead of her Dexterity (+5) to make her weapon attacks, and more importantly, these weapons are ineligible for Sneak Attack.

In fact, there is no primary weapon she can receive that is eligible for Sneak Attack because the only finesse or ranged weapon the group carries is her Tinkertop Bolt Blaster. And per the rules above, she cannot receive it. Of the secondary weapons that she can receive, only Beau’s throwing stars can apply Sneak Attack because they are finesse and ranged weapons.

Additionally, not that it matters because of all the other factors, due to the fact that halflings are a small race, weapon attacks with heavy weapons, like greatswords, are made at disadvantage.

Regarding Brenatto’s Voltaic Bolt, I’m unsure of the mechanics of the spell, but given the name and its flavor description, I assume that the spell takes effect upon a hit with a ranged weapon attack with ammunition, similar to Hail of Thorns.

It’s most ideal she receive Beau’s throwing stars. She would do more average damage with them than she would with anything else because she can add her Dexterity (+5) as a bonus to the 1d4 damage and she can apply Sneak Attack. These throwing stars are the only way Veth would be able to make effective weapon attacks. If Voltaic Bolt does not require a weapon with ammunition and is simply “on a hit with a ranged weapon attack”, then it could be applied to the throwing stars! So, we’re getting somewhere now. However, Veth would run out of throwing stars quickly, so it is unsustainable.

Out of the primary weapons, I personally would say it’s most ideal she gets the Star Razor? She would not be able to use it as effectively as some other weapons on the list, but the chance of landing Faerie Fire on someone to gain advantage against them may increase her chances of doing any damage at all. In a royale scenario, which is where this started, it would also deny anyone else the ability to cast See Invisibility. Given that she cannot effectively attack anyone with her spellcasting (and I don’t think she has any direct damage spells that she can use in this scenario outside of the potential in Phantasmal Force), it may behoove her to remain invisible for as long as she can to avoid being targeted, and robbing the others of the ability to cast See Invisibility and the opportunity to unveil her with Faerie Fire will better keep her hidden.

If none of that matters, and she isn’t trying to prevent the others from finding her, then one of the quarterstaffs would be the best choice. She’d receive her proficiency bonus with them, so she’s more likely to hit with it despite a poor Strength. The magical properties of both—the Belabor’s ranged attack and the Staff of Withering’s 2d10 necrotic on a hit—would be of use to her if she’s preferring trying to hit things over than hiding and surviving.

Generally though, given she is without Sneak Attack in nearly all cases, there is no way that Veth breaks even in this scenario, let alone benefit.

Fjord

Fjord is generally having a great time because being a Pact of the Blade Hexadin is pretty sweet. He will be taking hits to average damage output with most of these weapons, but not by so much that it’s worth worrying about. The upside is that in no cases does he take a penalty to his weapon attack rolls, except with the pistol, because he has proficiency with everything which results in not having to use his Strength (+1) or Dexterity (+0) modifiers for any of them.

Hex Warrior, which allows Fjord to apply his Charisma (+5) modifier, can be applied to every single primary weapon he can possibly get. It kicks in for the first weapon that Fjord touches after a long rest so long as he has proficiency and it lacks the two-handed property. Additionally, because Fjord is Pact of the Blade, this feature automatically extends to his pact weapon, regardless of the weapon’s properties. Pact of the Blade does not have limitations as to what magical weapons he can apply the ritual to, only limitations to what he can conjure for himself.

Since I have previously stated that any primary weapon he receives will be considered his pact weapon, every single weapon becomes covered by Hex Warrior, including the greatswords despite the fact that they are two-handed. This also means, because Hex Warrior extends to his pact weapon, the secondary weapon he receives can benefit from Hex Warrior so long as it meets the requirements, i.e. everything but the pistol. (Though I’m not sure how Hex Warrior interacts with a set of multiple thrown items like Beau’s throwing stars.) Fjord is not taking a hit to his attack rolls today, with exception of the gun. Again, Hexblade? Pretty sweet.

His least ideal primary weapon would probably be the Tinkertop Bolt Blaster, even though he can use it without any worries at all, in tandem with the throwing stars or pistol. This combination would leave him without melee range options, and Fjord’s typical strength in combat lies in his versatility at all ranges. He also cannot Divine Smite via ranged weapon attacks. He can, however, cast Banishing Smite through a ranged weapon attack.

By the way, Thirsting Blade, despite the name, does apply to pact weapons that are not bladed and pact weapons that are ranged weapons. If it’s your pact weapon, it lets you make two attacks per attack action. So, he can make two attacks per attack action with the crossbow. However, should he get the crossbow and the shortsword, he could make only one attack per attack action with the shortsword because Thirsting Blade applies to his pact weapon, which I’ve previously ruled would be the primary weapon he received.

That said, there’s no real way to hamstring Fjord here, even if he receives a weapon combination that isn’t ideal for him, such as the crossbow and pistol. He can rely on his talents as a spellcaster by attempting to kite his opponents, which he can do pretty effectively in theory and as we've seen in 2.98, and cast Eldritch Blast infinitely. His ability to Phone-A-Friend to fight for him can also quickly make up any weaknesses he faces in any lack of melee range options. The most that would happen is he needs to remain at range and loses easy access to Divine Smite.

Here’s a fun thing to consider though: can Fjord Divine Smite through an unarmed strike? I don’t care what Crawford says. Stunning Strike, which is applied to a melee weapon attack, works with unarmed strikes because “an unarmed strike counts as a melee weapon attack”. Therefore, per RAW and consistency, one can Divine Smite on an unarmed strike. However, Fjord would have to use his Strength modifier for the attack roll and damage on the unarmed strike itself, because Hex Warrior cannot apply; as a note, everyone is proficient in unarmed strikes. Generally speaking, it isn’t worth it enough to close distance to do so, but it might be worth attempting an unarmed strike to deliver a Divine Smite in specific situations should he find himself in melee range without a melee weapon.

*That entire paragraph made me want to see Beau punch Fjord, then him punch her back and apply a 1st level Divine Smite to it because he’s an asshole and it’s funny.

The most ideal primary weapon he can receive is Skingorger. As mentioned before, Hex Warrior would indeed apply to greatswords that are his pact weapon, so Fjord can use his Charisma modifier to make all his weapon attacks, where he would normally need to use his Strength modifier. Also, my best guess is that Fjord’s paladin fighting style is Great Weapon Fighting due to his recent rerolling ones on damage dice, and that style absolutely applies to greatswords. Given that one level of exhaustion would not affect his attack rolls, it is worth invoking Skingorger. Yes, he will miss the Star Razor’s radiant damage biteback, but I’m sure 2d6 damage with an additional 1d8 of acid damage and crits on a 19 will soothe that heartache very quickly. He already crits on a 19 against targets affected by his Hexblade’s Curse, but this would allow him to do so against everyone.

Fjord with Skingorger will absolutely put the fear of Melora into everyone.

[hotshotsxyz]

15x19 Coda

[read it on AO3]

It's… over. They won. And Dean is happy, he really is. It was a near perfect ending. The sun is shining and the Earth's still turning, it's inhabitants entirely unaware of the days they'd lost. He wonders if some scientist won't figure it out, notice that the stars have moved too far for a single day. A puzzle for the decade. And Sam, Sam's practically vibrating with excitement as they draw closer to Eileen with every mile of asphalt beneath their tires.

So yeah, Dean's happy. But it's a hollow sort of happiness.

They'd won, but the cost to play had been too damn high. Dean hadn't asked Jack to bring Cas back because he didn't have to. He'd seen the flash of sadness in his eyes after bringing everyone else back; seen the near-imperceptible shake of his head when Dean took an aborted step after him as he backed away. Jack couldn’t do it.

The kid had been through enough, and Dean wasn't going to make him explain why restoring the entire world was in his power but bringing Cas back wasn't.

Instead, he'd pasted on as much of a smile as he could manage and teased Sam about seeing Eileen again so he wouldn't have to think about who they wouldn't be seeing.

Waking at all is a surprise. Cas had seen the Empty reaching out to him, had felt its icy tendrils envelop him. And he'd felt peace. Dean was safe, and he'd finally said what he'd wanted to all these years. Finally let himself feel love in its entirety. It had been glorious.

Now, he's mostly confused. The Empty is different from what Cas remembers. There's a high pitched whine that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. In the back of Cas's head, he feels presences other than his own, tugging his consciousness in several directions. With nothing else to do, he picks one at random and begins to walk.

It's well after midnight, and they're still on the road. Sam is asleep on the passenger side, but Dean isn't tired. The last song on the cassette in the tape deck had ended an hour ago, and Dean hadn't bothered to put in a new one. They're miles from any sort of civilization, and Dean has to remind himself more than once that the lack of cars around them doesn't mean everyone is gone again. Still, between that and the muted landscape surrounding them, there's little to do but think.

Before, just after Chuck had wiped the Earth clean of everyone but them, Dean had had to push it all down. Sam was spiraling, and Dean couldn't afford to sink into the stupor he usually found himself in after losing Cas.

And wasn't that a thought? He's lost Cas so many damn times, he has a 'usual' response. This time feels different, though. He feels different. Dean still aches, feels the loss like a gaping hole in his chest. He greets his grief as an old friend, wraps himself in it like a warm blanket. He knows how to survive this loss, though, because he's done it before. And for once, he wants to. Because he wants to live up to what Cas saw in him.

"Michael," Cas says, surprised. His voice sounds strange to his ears, echoless and muted by the void around them.

Perhaps the direction he'd chosen hadn't been quite as random as he'd thought.

"Castiel," Michael replies, "I – I'm sorry," he says. Had Cas not known any better, he would've thought it was Adam speaking, not Michael. The words are pained and soft, brimming with the sort of regret and sorrow that angels are rarely capable of.

"What happened?" Cas asks.

Michael shakes his head mutely and turns away. Cas blinks and he's gone. The high pitched whine remains. Cas continues on.

Dean shakes Sam awake around four in the morning, just as he pulls into a roadside motel. It's the sort they've slept in a thousand times before, stained carpet and questionable mass produced art and all. It feels almost like a homecoming.

"Time is it?" Sam asks, yawning.

"Late," Dean replies. "C'mon, I need a couple hours of shut eye before we keep going."

Sam rubs his eyes and stretches. "How far out are we?" He asks as he climbs out of the car.

Dean shrugs. "Three or four hours?" he guesses.

"That close?" Sam asks.

"C'mon." Dean gestures towards the front of the motel. "A little sleep and we'll be there by lunchtime."

Next, Cas finds Ruby. Or rather, she finds him.

'Well, whatever the hell you did it woke us all up," she says from behind him. Cas spins around to face her.

He doesn't know what to say.

"I guess I should thank you," Ruby continues. "I mean, I could do without the eternal shriek, but it's better than everything that was going on up here." She taps her forehead meaningfully.

"I don't know why we’re awake," Cas says finally.

"Ah," Ruby says. "Then I guess you still owe me." She winks, and then she too is gone. The whine continues. Although, now that he thinks about it, perhaps shriek is a more accurate description.

Dean is exhausted, but even with his eyes shut tight against the soft moonlight that filtered through the motel room's thin curtains he can't sleep. He misses the odd sounds the bunker made at night. He misses his memory foam mattress. He misses his damn nightgown and he misses- well. Best not to go there while he's trying to sleep.

After several more minutes of unsuccessful slumber, Dean sighs and swings himself out of bed. He toes on his boots as quietly as he can manage and slips out into the night. He walks around behind the motel and sits on concrete slab, back against the wall and arms resting on his knees. The night is cold and clear, the stars as bright as he's ever seen them.

For a while he just stares, tracing out the constellations he knows and making new ones in place of the ones he doesn't. Above the big dipper is a group of stars he decides to call Jack. The brightest of them make a sort of circle. Harmony, Dean thinks. Beyond that are several stars in the shape of a child's drawing of of a house. He calls that one Sam. And above it… well, Dean knows that one. Cassiopeia. He doesn't know where it got it's name, but he knows what it means to him. Cas.

His next encounter is less welcome than the first two were.

"Cassie!" Lucifer calls out gleefully. "What a lovely family reunion."

"I have nothing to say to you," Cas rumbles.

"Oh," Lucifer says, "but you'll want to hear what I have to say." He grins, but none of the mirth reaches his eyes.

"Your precious little humans are going to lose," he sing-songs. "I've made sure of it."

"You've been here longer than I have," Cas retorts.

"Dad sprung me," Lucifer replies, "and I-"

Cas pushes past him. "I have no interest in your games," he says. To his surprise, Lucifer says nothing in response.

When he turns around, the Archangel is gone.

Dean tilts his head back against the wall, and for the first time since purgatory, he prays.

"Cas," he says softly. "I don't know if you can hear me. Hell, you probably can't. I know this one was probably it. The big goodbye." Tears begin to form in Dean's eyes, and he does nothing to stop them from falling. "I wanted to say thank you," he whispers. "What you did… we saved the world because of it. Because of you. There're seven billion people out there who owe you their lives. Some of us owe it a few times over." Dean chuckles a little at that, a wet, painful sound. "I need you to know that you changed me too. Of course you did, how could you not? Whatever it is you saw in me… it's there because of you. I never thought… well, I guess we're both stupid. You said the one thing you wanted you couldn't have. Cas," Dean says, his voice breaking, "I wanted it, too." His prayer devolves into choking sobs, the kind that tear themselves from you and won't let you draw breath to replace them.

Cas feels a sharp, painful tug in his grace.

Cas, he hears in his mind. He knows that voice. Cas falls to his knees.

It isn't until the suns rays stain the horizon gold that Dean stands again. He dusts himself off and wipes at the dried tear tracks on his face. He aches, but he also feels some relief. He hadn't said it all but… he'd said enough. The rest he can keep for himself, at least for now. He slips back into the motel room where, predictably, Sam is still asleep. He steps out of his shoes and slides beneath the scratchy motel sheets. Finally, finally, he sleeps.

"Dean," Cas chokes out. The prayer bounces around his head like a trapped echo. I wanted it, too. Cas feels the wetness on his face even as his determination surges. He's awake, and he's going to find a way home. He has to.

Cas continues walking with renewed purpose, although just as directionless as before. He wanders for what felt like hours or perhaps mere minutes. There's no concept of time in the Empty; only what was and what is. Eventually, he notices that the shriek is getting louder. It suddenly seems to be coming from a specific direction. Cas turns toward it and begins to run.

The little sleep Dean gets leaves him feeling surprisingly refreshed, and they make good time the rest of the way to Eileen. Ten minutes out, and Sam is all smiles, sending her update texts for every street they pass. His happiness is contagious, and Dean finds himself smiling too. He might not have gotten everything he wanted, but dammit Sam deserves this. So does Eileen. They've both been through so much. They're good for each other.

She's waiting on the sidewalk as they pull up to the curb, and Sam's out of the car before they even stop. He runs straight to Eileen, wraps his arms around her and swings her in a circle. She lets out a high pitched squeal and, when Sam puts her down, drags him into a long kiss.

"It's over," she says softly.

"It’s over," Sam agrees.

Eileen wraps her arms back around Sam and presses her face into his shoulder.

Dean looks away. He's happy for them, he is, but it's hard to watch, knowing that he'll never – well. All that matters is that they have each other. Dean is grateful for that.

The Empty is screaming. The closer Cas gets, the more it hurts to listen to. The unending screech rattles his teeth and threatens to tear his eardrums. He keeps walking.

As he draws close, it seems to sense his presence. "You!" it shrieks, turning it's face towards him. It still wears Meg's face, but it bares an expression he's never seen on her before. "You did this!" It lunges at him, but even as he flinches back it falls short, back on it's hands and knees.

"Make it STOP," the Empty pleads. "It's so loud."

It sounds so desperate that Cas almost feels sorry for it.

"Maybe I can help you," he says, though he has no idea how.

"Please," it begs, driven far past the point of reason.

"But if I do," Cas says, "you have to help me too."

"ANYTHING," it screeches.

"Send me home."

The Empty stares up at him. Its lips curl into a snarl. "I. Can't," it says.

"Why?" Cas demands. "You've done it before."

"We made a deal," it replies. "Deals cannot be broken."

"Then I can't help you." Cas turns and begins to walk away. The determination he felt before begins to drain quickly away.

"Wait!" it screeches.

Cas turns. "I can't help you from here," he says.

"If you get back… what will you do?"

"Jack did this to you, right?" Cas verifies. The Empty screeches in anger. It's all the confirmation Cas needs. "Then I'll get him to undo it. It's the only way to put them back to sleep. For you to go back to sleep."

The Empty stares at him for a moment in silence. It nods. "It's a deal," it says. It lunges at him, and this time Cas is too slow to avoid it. It wraps itself around him and tears him open. It's like dying all over again, but a thousand times more painful. It's as if his very essence is being torn from him. As if – oh. That's exactly what it is. It's unmaking him. The Empty is for angels and demons and other celestial beings, and if he isn't one… before he has time to finish the thought, he's gone.

The Empty curls in on itself to wait. It screams.

Dean makes some bullshit excuse about finding parking and drives off, leaving Sam and Eileen to catch up. It serves the dual purpose of giving them some alone time and him some space. He drives without thinking, makes random turns onto streets he doesn't know until he finds himself at the edge of town. He parks the car and gets out.

He begins to wander on foot, walking along a dirt road that runs between two corn fields. It almost certainly leads nowhere, but he feels an irrational need to follow it, as if there's something important at the end.

And then he sees it. He swears.

He'd known they were somewhere in Illinois, but he hadn't realized they were here.

The barn is more rundown than the last time he saw it, but Dean knows it's the same one. He can feel it in his bones. He wants to let go, to fall to his knees and sob, but something in him pushes him forward. He walks until he reaches its ramshackle doors. He places his hand lightly on one.

This is stupid, he knows. There's nothing for him beyond those doors except heartbreak and longing. Still though, there's something fitting about saying goodbye where it all began. He takes in a deep breath and pushes the door open. Its hinges squeal, but he pays them no mind because the barn isn't empty.

In it's center lays a dark haired man, naked and shivering. Cas. Cas.

Dean sprints forward. He doesn't care if this is a trick, doesn't care if he's gone mad. It's Cas.

Everything hurts. Cas is cold, and disoriented and lost and the only emotion he can process is relief. Because these aren't the sort of things that an angel feels. They're what humans feel. And humans don't belong in the Empty. He hears a noise behind him, hears a sharp intake of breath, and he knows.

He's home.

Dean falls to his knees as Cas sits up and turns to face him. "Cas," he breathes. All of his energy seems to leave him at once. He reaches out with a shaking hand and stops just shy of touching Cas's cheek.

"Hello, Dean," Cas replies warmly. He presses his face into the proffered hand.

Dean chokes out a sob, and then he's pulling Cas toward him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pressing his face into his hair. Cas returns the gesture, snaking his hands around Dean's waist. Dean feels dampness against his shoulder and knows that Cas is crying too.

"How?" Dean asks, not loosening his grip at all.

"I made a deal," Cas replies simply.

Dean feels himself tense. "Not that kind of deal," Cas reassures him. "I'll tell you more, but… not right now."

Dean pulls back a little, just far enough to look Cas in the eye. "Cas," he says, "I gotta tell you something."

Cas shakes his head softly. "I heard your prayer," Cas says. "I know."

"I didn't say it all," Dean replies.

"What's left?" Cas tilts his head in that oh-so-familiar way that Dean thought he'd never see again. He lets out another small sob.

"I love you, too," Dean says. "I'm sorry I didn't say it before, I should've said it before. But I love you, I've loved you, I will always love you. You changed me too, Cas."

"You…" Cas says, wonder in his expression.

"You can have it, Cas, of course you can have it. I'm yours."

Cas surges forward, and for the first time he takes, pressing his lips against Dean's. Dean is quick to respond though, giving as good as he gets. They spend who knows how long wrapped up in each other, until finally the need for air forces them to break the kiss. At some point, Dean's hands had wound their way into Cas's hair and he leaves them there as they breathe together.

"Dean," Cas says, and there something desperate in his voice.

"I'm with you," Dean replies.

"There's something you should know," Cas continues. "There was a cost to leaving the Empty," he says.

Cold fear washes over Dean. "What?" he asks softly.

"My grace," Cas answers. "I'm human."

Dean stares at him, open mouthed. "You're..." he starts, but doesn't know how to finish.

Cas nods. "I understand if that changes things," he says softly.

"Of course not Cas, god, of course not. I love you," Dean says. "All of you, in any form, whatever the consequences." Dean pauses for a moment, out of breath. "Are you okay, though?" he asks softly.

Cas breaks out into a wide grin. "Yes, Dean Winchester. Yes, I am."

And Dean's smiling too, so hard it hurts. "C'mon," he says, "You must be freezing." He pulls off his jacket and wraps it around Cas's shoulders. "Let's go home," he says.

"Home," Cas repeats, smiling.

And so, they do.