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[triaelf9]

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[austinsgirl]

Rather Die | Chapter 20

rating: Pg-13

warnings: pregnancy talk

masterlist

————————————————————

It is currently Christmas Eve.

Victoria's mom, Evelyn & her stepdad, Peter, both came into Los Angeles to visit and to meet Austin's family as well. Victoria's parents are staying with her & Austin while they are in town.

Currently, both families are together at their place, including Ashton, Mila, & Juliet.

"Wait, how far along are you?" Evelyn asks Victoria as she glazes the ham in the kitchen. Victoria is currently mixing together the potato salad.

"About 5 months. I'm due around Easter." she looks to her mom with a smile.

"Ok, that's what I thought. Just a few more months to go."

"Yeah, I'm excited. About halfway there or so."

"When did you move in with Austin? Not long ago, right?"

"Yeah, I moved in last month like a week before Thanksgiving. I ended up moving in sooner than we planned."

"Why is that?"

"It was just easier, since I was going to be starting the good pregnancy milestones & more doctors visits. Austin doesn't want to miss anything, and I don't want him to either. Also, wanted to get moved in before I was too pregnant and couldn't do anything."

"That makes sense. I'm glad you two have figured things out. I know how rough it was between the two of you at the start."

"I'm glad too."

"And I see he's moved on?"

"Mhm. I think any day now he'll ask her to be his girlfriend."

"I still can't believe what you said to her." Evelyn chuckles.

"Mooomm, please. I know. But it's fine. I apologized, we're good with each other."

"Good. The last thing you need is to be stressing over a new girl he's with."

"Don't worry, I'm not."

Victoria looks over to the living room and sees Austin & Juliet cuddling on the couch, being all cute. She feels lowkey disgusted on the inside, but Ashton comes up behind her & takes her away from those thoughts.

"Hey, baby." Ashton says, wrapping his arms around Vic, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Hi, honey." she smiles. "I wish you didn't have to leave after dinner."

"I know, me too babe. It's just a lot easier on my family if I go to them rather than them coming here. But my parents want to come out soon to meet you."

"They do?"

"Mhm. We're thinking next month sometime."

"That would be great, Ash." she smiles.

"Is dinner almost ready?"

"Yeah, actually. Hey, Aus?" Vic gets Austin's attention, looking over to him.

"Yeah?" Austin replies.

"Can you get the table set, please?"

"Yeah. Wanna help me set the table?" he asks Juliet.

"Sure." Juliet smiles.

Mila walks into the kitchen, "Hey, is there anything you need help with?"

"Uh, yeah. You can start putting the sides on the table. Mom is finishing up the glaze before she cuts the ham, & Ashley is finishing up the desserts."

"Alright, sounds good." Mila smiles. "Is that a new necklace?" she asks Vic, noticing a sparkly diamond around her neck.

"Yeah, it is." Vic smiles. "Ashton got it for me. We already exchanged gifts."

"It's so pretty, I love it."

"Thank you. I love it too."

Austin overhears their conversation & rolls his eyes. "A diamond necklace?" he thinks to himself. "It's nice, but c'mon. Don't be so basic. At least I got Julie my birthstone so it's more meaningful."

By the time the table was set, dinner was ready. Ham, kielbasa, potato salad, green bean casserole, pierogis, veggies. A whole feast to say the least.

Ashley asks Victoria as they eat, "Any plans for a baby shower? I'd love to help!"

"Oh my gosh um, I haven't even thought about it. I guess we'll have to start planning it." she responds.

"Do you have a theme picked out yet for the nursery?" Victoria's mom asks.

"We're just doing a pretty floral theme with shades of pinks."

"Oh, that'll be so nice! Maybe you can do the shower the same theme."

"That's a good idea." Mila chimes in. "My mom's friend is a florist that could probably help us out."

"Perfect. One step of planning done." Vic says.

"We still have to pick out a name." Austin says.

"You haven't picked out a name yet?" Ashley asks.

"Nope. Have we even talked about it?" Austin asks Victoria.

"To be honest, I don't know. We might have early on."

"We'll have to discuss it later." Austin smiles.

After dinner

"Hey, don't worry about cleaning up. I got it." Juliet says to Vic smiling, as she was gathering up plates.

"Are you sure? You're a guest, I don't want you to feel the need." Victoria responds.

"Yeah, it's fine! Austin & I can handle it, right Aus?"

"Yeah, we got it. You did a lot today, Vic. Go rest." Austin says.

"Alright, alright. Ash? You got time?" Vic smirks a little.

"Yeah, a little bit." Ashton responds.

Victoria & Ashton head off to her bedroom to have a little alone time before he heads off.

As Austin & Juliet clean up, they talk amongst themselves.

"You're still coming over to my parents' house tomorrow, right?" Juliet asks.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking. I know you get shy, and I didn't want you to back out because you're too nervous to meet them."

"I mean, I am nervous, but I'll be fine. They want us there at 4, right?"

"Yeah, 4 or earlier."

"Alright, maybe we can head over there early. Get more settled in before dinner."

"Sounds good, Aus." Juliet smiles.

Not too long after....

"I can't believe you're leaving me." Vic pouts as she's saying goodbye to Ashton.

"I know, baby. I'll be back before you know it. I'll call you when I land, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

Ashton and Vic share one last kiss before he heads off to the airport.

"I'll see you soon, love." Ashton says

"See you soon." Vic shyly smiles.

Around 1AM, Victoria finds herself watching the 24hr marathon of "A Christmas Story" while shoving Christmas cookies in her mouth, being hungry and not able to sleep.

She hears footsteps coming down the hall, "Austin?" she calls out, but not too loudly.

"It's Santa Claus." Austin says sarcastically, walking into the kitchen. "What are you doing up?" he asks, looking over at her in the living room.

"Baby girl was hangry for cookies & wasn't letting me sleep. Why are you up?"

"I don't know, honestly. Just not tired enough to sleep. Came out here for a snack, sometimes that helps." Austin responds grabbing some milk & cookies for himself. "What are you watching?"

"The 24hr marathon of "A Christmas Story". Peter left the cable on from the football game earlier, so I just put this on."

"It is a classic. I didn't know TBS still did the 24hr marathon." Austin sits on the couch next to her.

"I guess so. Did you grow up watching it?"

"When we had cable, yeah. Or if I was at my grandparents for Christmas. We weren't always able to afford cable."

"Makes sense. New Zealand didn't have TBS, but I think one channel did show "Home Alone" all day or showed all 3, all day long. My brother would keep it on until my mom got tired of it." Vic chuckles.

"That's cool. We mainly watched VHS or DVDs for movies. I think my sister kept them all after my mom passed, or she donated them."

"Is that one of your favorite memories with your mom around the holidays?"

"Yeah, yeah it is. Also making these cookies with her." He holds up a cookie that looks like a candy cane. "She had taught Ashley & I how to make them. Well, not so much the dough, but how to dye the dough and roll it out to make different shapes."

"Did Ashley make these ones? I don't remember seeing you make them."

"Yeah, she did. They're my favorite because they remind me of my mom."

"That's really sweet, Aus." Vic smiles. "They are really good. I'm gonna need this recipe. I'd like to pass down things like that to baby girl."

"Me too. And speaking of baby girl..."

"What?"

"We should probably think of a name."

"We should. Any ideas?"

"Nope."

"Me neither. Let me pull up a baby name list."

"Well actually..."

"Yeah?"

"If it's okay with you, I'd love for her to have my mom's name as her middle name. Whether it's Lori or Lorraine, whichever sounds better."

"Of course we can do that, Aus. As long as our next born has David for his middle name after my dad. IF it were to happen." Vic jokes.

"Deal." Austin chuckles.

"Okay, names that will go with Lori or Lorraine. The number one name on this list is Olivia, which is so pretty but doesn't really sound right."

"Also, people would probably think we named her after my Elvis co-star."

"True. Emma?"

"Eh. Too popular I think."

"Charlotte? Amelia? I like Amelia."

"I do too. Let me start a list. Charlotte is okay."

"Ava wouldn't sound right, Sophia is too close to Sophia Loren, that actress."

"What's next?"

"Isabella. Reminds me of Twilight."

"Her name was Bella though."

"Close enough, Aus."

"What else is there?"

"There's Mia, which we'd probably call her for short of we named her Amelia."

"Mia is short for Amelia?"

"Yeah. Mia's name in "The Princess Diaries" was Amelia, but went by Mia."

"Okay, well I'll put Amelia/Mia on the list. What else?"

"Evelyn, Harper, Luna, Camila, Gianna, Elizabeth. None of these are sticking out to me."

"Let me see." Austin puts her hand out for his phone and starts looking at the list.

"Ella? Scarlett? Aria?" Austin asks.

"Maybe Aria."

"Hazel?"

"No, too "Fault In Our Stars". Maybe when I was fifteen."

"Madison?"

"I have a cousin named Madison."

"Ellie?"

"That's kinda cute."

"Violet?"

"Violet? That's pretty. Violet Lori? No. Violet Lorraine? Hmm.."

"Violet Lorraine. I like that. It flows nice."

"Yeah, it does."

Austin keeps scrolling to see if there's anything else on the list of names.

"Ew. Hell no." he says.

"What?"

"Eliana is on the list."

"Ew. Fuck that bitch."

"I'm really liking Violet."

"Me too. It just seems right."

"Did we just choose name?"

"I think we did." Victoria smiles big.

Austin repositions himself to be near Victoria's belly.

"Hi Violet, Merry Christmas from your daddy." he says, getting teary eyed. "I love you so much, my beautiful girl." Austin places a kiss on her belly.

Victoria tears up as well.

"Hey, Merry Christmas to you too, Vic." Austin smiles at her as he sits back up.

"Merry Christmas to you, Aus."

"Don't tell Juliet this, but I like it better when you call me Aus."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, you started it. It was your thing first, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. But don't worry, I won't tell her."

"And you do know I'll always love you, right?"

"You will?"

"Mhm. You're the mother of my child, of course I'll always love you in some way. I'll always care about you. I hope you know that."

"I feel the same way about you, Aus."

Vic looks into Austin's blue eyes. She notices his eyes leave hers to look at her lips as they sit close.

Austin leans in for a kiss, Vic doesn't stop him right away, letting him deepen the kiss as he puts his hand on her face. She eventually realizes what's happening & pulls away.

"What are we doing?" she asks him.

"I-I don't know. I got caught up in the moment." Austin responds, blushing, looking down.

"We won't speak of this. This never happened. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. We should go to bed. Big day tomorrow." Vic says getting up & turning off the TV.

"Agreed. Goodnight." Austin says.

"Goodnight, Austin."

---------------------------------------------------------------

[makeste]

this is just a post listing all of the scenes in BnHA which underline Bakugou’s narrative importance and the way that it’s intrinsically connected to Deku and his storyline, because I really want to emphasize that the MORE THAN 300 CHAPTERS OF BUILD-UP just slightly outweigh the literal seven chapters in which he hasn’t played a major role just lately. recency bias is a thing guys, and we should all try to remember that.

not Kacchan establishing his goal and ultimate endgame less than one page after his introduction.

not Kacchan being saved by Deku less than an hour after burning his notebook and telling him to jump off a roof, establishing the contradictory nature of their relationship right from the get-go, and changing Deku’s destiny forever as All Might witnesses this moment and realizes that Deku is more heroic than he ever could have imagined. “you looked like you needed saving.” that’s a line that’s already had at least one callback, and with Deku now struggling in the current manga the time could be ripe for an even more powerful one.

not “win and save” being established as the two cornerstones of the hero philosophy all the way back in chapter 5, with Deku and Kacchan each embodying one of these dual aspects, and being narratively primed to walk opposite paths in their respective hero journeys, only to meet at the middle when they reach the end.

not Deku and Kacchan having an iconic battle less than ten chapters into the series, during which their rivalry is further established and the complicated history of their childhood friendship is expanded on.

not Kacchan’s first childhood flashback revealing that the pivotal, character-defining event of his childhood was baby Deku reaching out his hand and asking if he was okay.

not Deku instinctively reaching out to Kacchan yet again all of two chapters later, making a fateful decision which will have massive ramifications down the line and which will eventually alter the course of Kacchan’s character development.

not Kacchan’s teachers thoughtfully praising his “overwhelming tenacity” and All Might noting his potential for greatness early on the series.

not Deku choosing a hero name originally given to him by Kacchan, but repurposing and reclaiming it, and possibly paving the way for another parallel that’s just waiting to be capitalized on. Kacchan feel free to tell us more about your own hero name’s meaning whenever you get a chance.

not Deku becoming stronger by learning from Kacchan (win to save).

not Deku and Kacchan deliberately being paired together for their final exam and Kacchan having a fucking meltdown until Deku literally knocks some sense into him, at which point he immediately gets his head back on straight because the two of them are capable of getting through to each other in a way that nobody else can.

not All Might being all “THIS FIGHT SURE IS SOME GREAT FORESHADOWING FOR THE TWO OF THEM TEAMING UP TOGETHER IN THE FUTURE AS FORETOLD BY DESTINY.”

not Kacchan becoming stronger by taking a page out of Deku’s book (save to win).

not Deku being the last person Kacchan sees before the LoV take him away, and the two of them locking eyes until the last possible second before Kacchan disappears and Deku literally falls to his knees screaming in the most dramatic breakdown of the entire series.

not the two of them being singled out in a crowd of hundreds and framed side by side desperately cheering on All Might in his darkest hour in the battle which will change the entire course of the series.

not Aizawa literally saying that class 1-A revolves around Bakugou and Deku.

not Deku and Kacchan having the most iconic battle of the entire series and being all “goddammit I can’t figure out why my entire life revolves around you and it’s driving me crazy” and being fully honest with each other for the first time in their lives, and then having All Might come over and tell them “you two need each other, and you need to learn from each other, because each of you intuitively understands part of what it means to be a great hero, and by working together you will both one day be able to rise to the top.”

not Kacchan, and only Kacchan, being inducted into Club OFA a full two hundred chapters before anybody else.

not Kacchan and Deku obsessing over showing off for each other in the Joint Training arc while All Might looks on like a proud dad.

not Kacchan’s phenomenal progress in the JT arc being traced directly back to the lessons he learned from All Might and Deku.

not Deku being triggered into activating a wholeass new fucking quirk because someone said something mean about Kacchan.

not Horikoshi answering the question of “so what’s next for Kacchan’s character development?” with “he’s going to begin the slow burn process of realizing that he needs to make amends to Deku.”

not Kacchan being focused on Deku during Tomura’s attack on Jakku, and realizing what he’s about to do, and immediately moving in step beside him without the slightest hesitation because he’s determined to stay with him and protect him.

not All Might literally saying “THEY WILL GET A CHANCE TO TALK YOU GUYS SO JUST BE PATIENT.”

not Kacchan unconsciously emulating Deku when he’s focused on saving, and mimicking everything from his exact style of strategizing down to his speech patterns, in the exact same way that Deku starts unconsciously imitating Kacchan’s own mannerisms and speech when he’s focused on winning.

not Kacchan’s milestone “Rising” chapter being explicitly centered around this transcendent moment when he reacts without thinking in order to save Deku’s life.

not Deku activating a wholeass new fucking quirk AGAIN because someone insulted Kacchan AGAIN.

not Kacchan being all “Deku’s not the only one whose quirk goes through Awakenings when he sees that his childhood rivalfriend is in danger.”

not Kacchan having an entire character arc devoted solely to the importance of him choosing a hero name, which he has yet to reveal to Deku.

last but not least, not a whole entire montage of Horikoshi interview quotes with him talking about the thematic importance of “win to save, save to win” (it’s literally what heroism means to him), and talking about Bakugou’s future, and how he’s determined to write an even better ending than the one in Heroes Rising, and how the story will have a conclusion where all of the characters come together in the end.

so yeah. just in case it isn’t clear from all of this,

Bakugou and Deku’s destinies are intertwined in a way that runs deeper than any other connection in the series

the two of them have spurred on each other’s growth throughout the entirety of the manga

their character development has revolved around each other literally from the start

their journeys mirror and complement each other in a way that enriches the narrative

they each represent one half of All Might’s legacy

and their bond is at the center of the series’s emotional resonance

and Horikoshi is not just going to all of a sudden forget all of that and ignore it entirely in the series’s final act. I literally can’t understand why anyone would think that. it’s all right there you guys. 300 chapters’ worth of history and development. this is how it is, and this is how it has always been. like it or not, these two idiots are both in this together, and their respective endgames are inextricably tied to one another. win and save, you guys.

[hydroponicjj]

No Body, No Crime [2]

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Peterkin!Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Mentions of Drugs/Alcohol, Swearing, etc

Summary: Rafe is finding himself having trouble trusting Y/N, even after what she did for him.

A/N: Hello! This is the second chapter of No Body, No Crime. Please enjoy and, let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist! <3

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The entire drive over to Topper's made you extremely nervous. Your stomach felt as if it was in a knot that couldn't be undone.

It only got worse when you began to recognize the scenery of Figure 8.

It was unusual of you to be so anxious.

Usually, you’re hyper-focused. You don’t have time to worry about all the possible things that could go wrong but, Rafe made you feel different.

Typically, the two of you would only interact in passing. Oftentimes in the kitchen at his house when you needed him to help you reach something on the top shelf.

Now, you’re about to see each other in a brand new light. Going from strangers to...

Honestly, you didn’t really know how to classify this blossoming relationship, considering it hasn’t started yet.

Turning a corner into a neighborhood, you recognized Topper's mansion almost immediately.

It was the second house on the right with pillars and a baby blue door. There were tiny American flags pitched in the yard with small lights showcasing their entrance.

There were so many cars parked on the street and in the driveway that it was nearly impossible for you to get close without clipping a vehicle.

Finding a good spot near the sidewalk, you emerged from your car, making sure to check that it was locked (a habit you learned from your mother).

Drawing closer to the front door, you spotted Rafe.

He was sitting ominously in a rocking chair on the porch, looking out into the yard.

"Hey." You called out. He broke from his intense gaze and glanced at you.

"Shit, I totally forgot that you were coming." He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning his head.

"Well, I'm here so.." You trailed off, taking a seat next to him.

Instantly, Rafe began to draw away from you. You noticed but refrained from commenting on it, not knowing what his problem was.

It wasn't long after that the tension started to fill the air. You’re usually the one keeping your distance from him, not vice versa.

“Are-Are you going to say anything?” You asked, nervously.

You had no idea what made his energy shift from the last time you spoke to him but, this wasn’t the same Rafe that you saw that afternoon.

“What do you want me to say?” He replied sharply, glancing over in your direction.

You were taken aback by him, “Rafe. You asked me to meet you here. I have no idea what the hell is going on. So, I just— I wanna know what’s happening.”

He froze, inhaling deeply. It was clear that he was searching for the right words to say that would get his message across.

“Y/N, I don’t trust you. You might be Sarah’s best friend but, you’re also the sheriffs' daughter.” His voice was cold and distant.

He genuinely viewed you as some kind of threat. Less than 7 hours ago, he was more than willing to rope you into whatever he had going on, and now, you’re just a burden to him.

You scoffed, “You seemed pretty happy to get your drugs back this afternoon. Was I the sheriffs' daughter then?”

“I stole from my mom, Rafe. That’s not something you just do for fun. Especially when you have a lot to lose on your end, okay. So, if I rat you out, I’m going down too.”

Guilt instantly flashed behind his blue eyes. It was evident as his features began to soften and he lowered his eyebrows.

He began to speak but, you cut him off, “Listen, Rafe, I don’t expect us to go out and get matching tattoos anytime soon but, we have to learn to trust each other, or else this thing isn’t going to work.”

He chuckled lightly, flashing you a crooked smile, “Yeah.” Rafe replied simply.

The loud booming of music coming from inside filled the silence.

“Didn’t you graduate high school yesterday?” Rafe asked, quirking his head to the side.

“Yeah... I-I did.” You replied, still surprised.

You weren’t valedictorian like your mother planned but, you were pretty damn close. Still, it wasn’t enough to satisfy Susan Peterkin so, you spent the entirety of graduation sulking.

You didn’t even get a chance to enjoy your High School graduation.

A sour taste formed in your mouth as your throat began to get tighter by the second.

Rafe noticed your sudden discomfort, “Well, you’re at a party. Why don’t you go inside and have fun? Celebrate the milestone.”

“You should celebrate too. I mean- finishing your first year of college.” You acknowledged, awkwardly trying to shift the conversation toward him.

“I took a gap year. Too many things to do and not enough time.” He shrugged.

You were so entranced by the way Rafe spoke. He wasn’t like you, who felt the need to give the deepest, most profound explanation for everything.

He was simple.

You liked simple.

Standing up, you extended your hand in his direction, “Come on,” you paused, grabbing him by the wrist, “We’re going inside.”

“No no no,” he protested, “I already told my friends I was leaving so,” Rafe resisted your grasp, staying firmly in his seat.

“I think we can handle Topper and Kelce.” You scoffed, giving him a playful look.

Rafe knit his eyebrows together, contemplating. It had already been an extremely long night. But, he was having a hard time pulling out the response from his chest.

"Shitttt," He drew out, "What the hell. It'd be nice to see you pull the stick out of your ass and relax."

Eyes lighting up and a smile tugging on your lips, you yanked on his wrist again. This time, he rose from the rocking chair, peering down at you, "Don't make me regret this, Peterkin."

"How could you possibly regret anything when you're with me?" You sent him a sly wink.

Twisting the front-door handle, you entered the Thorton household.

Your senses were instantly triggered. Your ears struggled to determine which was louder, the music or screaming of teenagers. Your eyes reacted to the fluorescent light projected on the ceiling.

The scent was absolutely putrid. Sweaty bodies and alcohol were not a good mixture, not under any circumstances.

"Ugh," Covering your nose with your right hand, you peered back at Rafe. He seemed completely fine.

This was normal for him.

Watching as he maneuvered around this situation with such ease inspired you.

Rafe was a complete mystery to you. Although with every interaction, he became less of a riddle, it was still a challenge trying to figure him out.

Abruptly, someone from behind you yelled, tearing you from your trance, "I said that you'd be back!"

Turning around, you saw Kelce and Topper making their way towards the two of you.

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe responded, playfully, drifting closer to his two friends.

A mere seconds later, Topper noticed you standing at a feeble 1 and a half feet shorter than Rafe.

"Holy shit," He gasped, "A-Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Y/N Peterkin at a party?"

This caught Kelce's attention and, he certainly couldn't resist making a sly comment, "How's your mom? Is she still 6 feet up the Pogues ass or....?"

Scoffing, you began to walk away but, something caught your shoulder.

"Listen, she's a bitch but, not as nearly as much as you think." Rafe defended.

You couldn't help but laugh, “Thanks.”

Yes, it was a shitty, backhanded compliment. But, it was coming from Rafe Cameron so, that's the best you're gonna get.

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Commented Kelce, turning his head to look around at the scenery.

“Rafe,” Topper paused, “Are you trying to get even more fucked up tonight?”

Glancing at Rafe, you noticed how tired he looked. Drooping eyes and hunched shoulders gave away how he was feeling.

“No, he has other priorities on his mind.” You chimed in.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Kelce raised his eyebrows.

Wiggling two fingers between the two of you, “Are you guys....? You know?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kelce. You’re a goddamned idiot.” Rafe rolled his eyes, pushing his friend lightly.

“Relax. I’m not gonna swoop in on your girl. Just curious who you’re fucking this week.”

Glancing up at Rafe, he appeared extremely fed up with the current conversation.

“Come on, man,” Topper said, pulling Kelce by the shoulder, “Let’s leave these two alone. I’m sure they’ve got loads of shit to catch up on.”

The two walked out of the entryway, side by side, and floated right back into the epicenter of the party.

“Why do you do that?” You questioned, almost instantly.

Looking in your direction, he responded, “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you began, “You willingly hang out with Dumb and Dumber,”

“You could be surrounded by people that are on the same intellectual level as you. Yet, you surround yourself with people like those 2 that are only interested in being so high that they can’t remember their name.”

Rafe shook his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

There he goes again. Being simple. Summing up everything he has to say in a mere 3 words.

"He deserves better than that." You thought but didn't say.

In your head, you could see Rafe walking away from the conversation and, you wanted him as close as possible (because you're not used to parties.... no other reason.... of course).

"This is stressing me out," You commented jokingly, running your hands through your hair.

If you weren't so hyperaware of your surroundings, you would've missed the way that Rafe was glancing at you.

He looked as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head.

“Come on.” He nodded his head in the direction of the living room (aka where 90% of the party-goers were).

You grinned slightly, “I was deprived of partying my entire 4 years of High School. I don’t think I should start now.”

You turned around and sat on the love seat in the Thornton entryway.

“You dragged me back in here so, the least you could do is sway your hips to some shitty music.”

“Maybe.” You smirked, teasing him.

“Alright, I’ll find Topper and Kelce. I’m sure they’ve got something interesting for me.” Rafe began to exit the room.

“Fine,” you rose from your seat immediately, catching his attention.

You shook your head in disapproval, “So manipulative.”

A smug look was plastered on Rafe’s face, “Yeah, well.... it worked.”

He shrugged and sent you a smirk.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

You had never felt so free in your entire life.

It was surprising that such a wild atmosphere made you feel a sense of comfort and enjoyment, rather than fear and anxiety.

Maybe it was the fact that you clung to Rafe for the majority of the time.

He was such a social hotspot.

People of all ages and demographics were speaking to him. He kept the conversations brief and, it was clear that he wasn't very interested.

Nevertheless, he was dragged into a game of beer pong, and (with the help of Topper and Kelce) he agreed to play BUT, only if you did.

At first, you were hesitant, having no idea how to play but, there was something inside of you that hated the thought of saying no to Rafe.

You indulged him and decided to play, with the exception that you didn't drink, considering that you had to drive back home to the Cut.

It took a few tries for you to actually get the hang of things but, Rafe helped a lot.

He would often adjust your form, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you in another direction.

It made you nervous yet excited having him in such close proximity to you, whispering in your ear which direction to throw the ball.

Ultimately, the two of you ended up winning against Topper and Kelce (who were pissed that they lost to such an inexperienced player).

That was the beginning of the fun.

After that, you didn't feel the need to cling to Rafe as tight as you had been before.

You went off and had conversations with people that didn't go to your High School, which also meant they had no clue who your mother was.

You used to be extremely familiar with Figure 8 and you often found yourself missing it from time to time.

It was very nice to be able to surround yourself with people that weren't foaming at the mouth to run and tell your mother everything they saw.

It wasn't until you began to dance, swaying your hips to the beat that Rafe found you again.

"Y/N, I--I need a ride home." He began, speaking in a low but rushed tone.

"What?!" You yelled, not being able to hear him over the music.

You took a glance at him and, he looked horrible.

His eyes were extremely red and he reeked of alcohol and plenty of other illegal substances.

Not only that but, Rafe seemed extremely jittery. Almost as if something bad was going to happen if he didn't leave immediately.

Seeing the stress of the situation, you gripped Rafe by the arm and tugged him out of the hectic scene and into the nearest quiet room.

Finding a bathroom right before the kitchen, the two of you entered.

You sat him on the edge of the tub, crouching in front of him.

"Rafe," You paused, clutching the sides of his face, "Look at me. What's going on?"

Opening his eyes, he began to speak, "Please, just, please. Take me home." He buried his head into your shoulder.

You were stunned by his actions, having no idea what drug he took that made him act like that.

But, now was not the time to question Rafe, he needed your help and after all the progress the two of you made that evening, you weren't going to leave him behind.

"O-okay, okay. Yes, I'll take you home."

You stood up, continuing to hold his arm, afraid that he'd fall back into the tub.

"Rafe, can you stand? Can you walk?" You asked.

He nodded then rose, towering over you.

"Here," You directed him towards the sink, "Splash some cold water onto your face, okay?"

He did as you told him, gathering a scoop of water in his palms and splattered it onto his face.

After, he seemed slightly more coherent but, not nearly enough.

The two of you emerged from the bathroom. You were still clung to his arm, leading him in the direction of the exit.

Once, you left the inside of the house, you were bombarded with cars from all angles.

It then hit you that you had to park on the street.

As you led Rafe down the infinitely long driveway, you cursed in your head, upset at the universe for making you work against gravity in order to keep him from face-planting.

Finally, making it to your car, you reached in your pocket and unlocked it.

Opening the door to the passenger's side, you plopped Rafe in the seat and buckled him in.

You ran around the front of the car, trying to get back to Rafe as soon as possible.

"Rafe, do you have everything? Your phone, wallet, keys?"

"Mhm." He replied, setting his head on the back of the seat.

With that, you took one last glance at Rafe and put the car in drive.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Pulling into the driveway, you noticed that the Cameron household was quiet.

The only light coming from inside was the glare of the TV from Wheezie's room.

"Rafe, we're here." You said, shaking him. He had fallen asleep seconds after you started driving.

He didn't waste any time getting out of the car. Unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door, he headed in the direction of the garage.

As he approached, it opened.

"I know they're rich but, damn, motion detected garage?" You commented, continuing to watch, making sure Rafe made it inside safely.

It wasn't until you started saw him stop that you noticed a figure standing in front of him.

It was Ward Cameron.

"Shit."

You knew Ward was going to give Rafe crap for staying out late, partying so, the least you could do was try and cover for him.

Emerging from your car, you walked towards the garage.

"Rafe, I need you to do it, okay? I don't want Sarah getting involved-" You caught the end of what Ward was saying before he stopped.

"Y/N!" He greeted, a smile on his face.

"Hey, Mr.Cameron." You waved awkwardly, sending a forced smile.

"Thank you so much for bringing this one home," He grabbed Rafe by the shoulder, pulling him into a side hug.

"No problem! I just needed his help with some things. The least I could do was take him home." You replied.

"Yeah, yeah," Ward nodded his head, looking back at the door.

"Listen, Y/N, thanks for putting in a good word with your mom. We really appreciate it."

"I'm sorry?" You knit your eyebrows in confusion.

"I got a call from the station today saying the charges against Rafe had been dropped. All of us are so thrilled that we can resume a normal life and move past this." He placed a hand on his chest.

You had no idea what he was talking about. Your mom wasn't home yet. There was no way she could've seen the drugs had been taken from her safe yet.

But, you had to play it cool, not wanting Ward to ask any questions "Sure, sure." you answered.

"Okay, welp," He paused, "Have a nice night, Y/N. Come by tomorrow and see us." Ward finished, hurridly.

With that, he turned around swiftly and went back inside his house, through the garage door.

That entire interaction was odd. You had never seen Ward act so tense.

Also, you couldn't help but wonder what was so urgent that Sarah couldn't do?

It had been less than 24 hours and, you're already wrapped up in things you couldn't begin to comprehend.

"I need to sleep."

Walking back to your car, you entered the driver's seat.

Putting the car in reverse, you exited the Cameron house and began your journey back to the Cut.

TAGLIST *strikethrough it won’t let me tag*: @oopsiedoopsie23 @a-bolanos @cocobutterqween @gabiatthedisco @athenastarkey @halsmultibitch @water13 @avaspringtime @niamhvivo @haterpenny @nerdypartytrashpsychic @casually-kook @mynameberose @malfoylaufeysonweasley

[andromedasstarship]

i could not choose between 77-80 so i overbearingly ask u to use each of them with spencer reid if u wish 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

80. “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” + 77- “If you want to leave, we can leave.”

send a prompt + character from this list! 

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings - stress?? mostly fluff 

a/n - tysm kenna for requesting this i love you and i loved writing this. i also went overboard on this one bye! ive also never posted something this long in an ask reply before so if this looks weird BYE!

Your car had long gone cold, but you still couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself out yet. It was futile to try and wrestle your emotions into a tightly sealed box; as soon as you crossed the threshold of the town-home you shared with Spencer, you knew he’d be able to read you like a book. Damn genius profiler skills.

Taking a quick look at the time you knew you had to suck it up and go inside; you were pushing how ‘late’ you could be without him worrying something had happened on your commute home. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and exited the car; taking your sweet time with locking the car behind you and digging your house keys out of the bottom of your bag.

To put it simply, it had been a difficult year. It was the final year of your Phd. program and while- all things considered- you had had an amazing time, the past few months had been both physically and mentally draining. What was once your lifelong passion had suddenly started to feel like a chore; a chore you felt you weren’t even good at anymore. Almost every day was spent either in your own classes or teaching undergrads. Almost every night was spent on the final edits of your thesis or grading work from your students. The few moments of freedom you found were spent doing the boring parts of adult life: housekeeping, getting your car fixed, calling elderly family members, etc.

Neither of you had formerly addressed it, but you knew it was taking a toll on your relationship. Spencer being busy was a constant, but it was normally balanced out by your typical 9-5 schedule. But recently, even on the nights he was home you’d be too wrapped up in your own work to even sit down and eat dinner with him. By the time you crawled into bed he’d be long asleep and in the mornings you’d been leaving for work earlier and earlier in order to get research time in at the university library. It felt like the two of you hadn’t even been awake in the same room for weeks, let alone do anything relationship-y.

Tonight was supposed to change that. Kind of. His team was having a fancy dinner to celebrate some major milestone that you couldn’t remember. It’d been on the books for months, but kept getting pushed back by surprise cases. It felt like everyone held their breath this week, waiting for a case to pop up, but instead everyone was left pleasantly surprised when no such thing happened. It was going to be a great night: classic Rossi pasta dish, all partners and kids invited. Even though the two of you wouldn’t be alone, it’d still be a perfectly good excuse to get out, put on some nice outfits and have a fun evening with friends.

Spencer had been particularly excited. The past week, you felt as if it was the only thing he ever talked about. Not that the two of you were having extensive conversations. He kept talking about how great it would be to get out of the house and how much he was looking forward to having a totally work free evening. His excitement warmed your heart.

Which is why you were taking so long to find your keys. Today had been one of the hardest day you’d experienced in a long time. The thesis meeting you had with your advisor- that you’d been staying up late every night editing for- had gone horribly; it was as if everything you prepared was wrong. Almost every student in the class you taught scored poorly on the latest assessment- on a unit you considered yourself an expert on-, something you viewed as a failure of your ability to convey the info. And to top it all off, even though you felt as if you’d spent hours upon hours working yourself to the bone the past week- in order to clear space for tonight-, you still felt as if you had piles of work to catch up on.

You knew the stress and tension of the day would read clear on your body as soon as Spencer got a look at you. And with how excited he’d been, you absolutely didn’t want to ruin the dinner. You’d hate for him to feel as if you were being selfish or that you couldn’t even prioritize him in your schedule.

You took one last deep breath, before going to put the key into the doorknob. Just as you touched the handle, the door swung open from the other side.

“Jesus!” You exclaimed, one hand clutching your chest as you nearly jumped out of your skin. In front of you was Spencer, smiling down at you with that irresistible grin of his.

“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought I heard you car pull up earlier and when you didn’t come in I thought maybe something was wrong so I wanted to come check-”

You quickly cut him off- even though you did find his worrying a bit endearing- by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“A good song came on just as I pulled in, couldn’t just get out.” You lied, adding a small laugh for effect. It was an on brand situation for you, something certainly believable. If Spencer had any doubts, he didn’t question you, simply moved out of the doorframe so you could step in.

Inside the house, you set your bag down by the front door like you always did. While kicking your shoes off, you pulled your jacket off, smiling when Spencer had his hands already open to hang it on the rack. You knew he had that ridiculous memory- and you had a pretty set routine-, but it still made your heart swell every time he anticipated your next move and went the extra mile to be helpful.

“So, how was your day?" Spencer asked, as the two of you made your way to the kitchen area. “What’d Professor Addams have to say in your meeting?”

You clenched at the handle of the fridge, grinding your teeth before pulling the door open. When you turned to look at Spencer, you saw he made himself comfortable on one of the countertop stools.

“Went well. They gave me some uh, um, some comprehensive revisions.” You said flatly, turning back to face the fridge; missing the skeptical look Spencer was throwing you.

“That’s good?” He said slowly, before adding, “well how was class? You just wrapped up the last unit didn’t you?” You both knew he knew the answer, but was just attempting to further the conversation. Had it been any other day you would’ve found it endearing, but today just wasn’t that day.

You slammed the fridge door shut, just hard enough to be cause for concern. “I thought tonight was absolutely no shop talk. Huh? Why don’t we just start that rule now.” You said, a slight edge to your voice. It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.

“Are you okay-”

“Yes! I just don’t-”

“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell-”

“There’s nothing wrong-”

“Do you need to stay-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed, bringing an end to the constant cutting each other off. “Everything is fine. Okay?” You said, unable to maintain eye contact.

Spencer slowly nodded, though you could tell he didn’t believe an ounce of what you had just said. Luckily for you, he seemed to let it go, falling back in his seat.

“I’m gonna go shower and get ready and then we can leave, alright?” You asked rhetorically. When he just nodded again, you very quickly walked up to him and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

---

The ride to Rossi’s was silent, something that normally wouldn’t have bothered either of you had it not been for the borderline argument you had in the kitchen. As you pulled up a few cars down from the house, you caught Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat, a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Stop doing that.” You huffed out, but there was no real bite in your voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently, reaching out to push a piece of your hair away from your face. God that was sweet.

You quickly nodded and threw a very forced smile his way, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. I promise, come on.” You said, killing the engine and pushing open your car door.

Before you could fully open the door, Spencer’s arm shot out across your body and pulled the door back shut with a bang.

“Spencer!” You yelped, startled by his sudden movement. You turned and gave him a bewildered look.

“You always look over my head when you lie.” Spencer stated.

“Oh I do not-” You started, but letting the sentence fall flat as soon as you realized you currently were looking over his head.

“Your favorite song came on the radio, twice, on the drive here and you didn’t react at all either times.” He said. When you still didn’t say anything he continued. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”

The look he was giving you was making you feel all sorts of guilty. Of course he cared, that’s why you loved him so much. You just didn’t want to ruin something that’d been in the works for so long, all because you had a bad day.

“Spencer,” you started, giving him a very pointed look and making sure to hold eye contact, “I’m fine. Can we just go in?”

Spencer shook his head, externally searching your face for more clues while also internally thinking back to any clues from your kitchen fight. “We aren’t going anywhere, until you talk to me.” He urged.

It probably wasn’t the best move on his part, seeing as you both were incredibly stubborn. The two of you were unrelenting, both staring blankly at the other; hoping the other one would break first. After nearly 5 minutes of silence, it became very clear that neither of you were standing down anytime soon.

Spencer reached his hand out again, gently cupping your cheek; internally you cursed your body’s natural reaction to lean into his touch. “What’s going on?” He asked, voice much softer than earlier.

You were internally screaming over how caring he was. Damn him! You cursed yourself for not being able to just play the role of perfect partner for one night.

“I’m exhausted.” You said, voice quiet. “My meeting went horrible day. I absolutely failed at teaching my students the last unit. I’ve been bringing so much work back to the house I haven’t even been able to give you a second of attention. And now we have this dinner that you’ve been looking forward to for months and I don’t want to ruin-”

This time, it was Spencer that quickly cut off your rambles with a kiss.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, as if it were the most simple thing ever

You gave him a shocked look. “Spencer, you’ve been talking about this dinner for weeks. I, I can’t ask you to put this off, you and the team rarely get time to-”

“If you want to leave, we can leave.” He said. His voice was so sincere it made the whole thing that much more difficult. He was too good.

“Spencer, no.” You said, putting special emphasis on the ‘no’. “We haven’t even walked in the door, there’s nothing to leave yet. I’m not going to ruin the dinner we’ve all been planning on for months. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”

He didn’t answer, instead pulled his phone out and quickly started to type out a text.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Rossi, I’m gonna tell him you aren’t feeling well and we can’t come anymore.”

“We’re outside his house! It’s not a big deal-!

“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner!” Spencer cut you off, giving you a very pointed look. You weren’t sure your heart could take the swelling much longer.

“Spencer, you’ve been planning-”

“I don’t want to hear it-”

“You’ve wanted to get out of the house for so long!” You stressed, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“We can go do something else!” He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just us, no pressure to be ‘on’ in front of anyone else.” That did sound good- No!

“I’m not gonna be the one who keeps their boyfriend away from his friends-”

“I see them every day. Every day. One dinner means nothing.” Spencer said confidently, clasping your hand tightly between his.

You contemplated for what seemed like hours; though it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” Spencer said, giving you a very mock serious look; you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “There you are.” He said, smiling to match yours.

You turned the car on, clicking your seatbelt back into place. “So, where to pretty boy?” You asked.

“Well, I heard of this new ice cream place that just opened up. Their ‘claim to fame’ is they make over 50 flavors in store every single day. Did you know on average it takes nearly three hours from start to finish to make a single batch of ice cream? Or that when ice cream-”

You shook your head in amusement, chancing a couple glances in his direction as you were driving. You loved his excited ramblings and animated hand motions as he further explained the history of ice cream; as well as all the random facts about the place he was directing you to. As you got closer to your new destination, all you could think about was how lucky you were to, to be loved by someone who always knew just what to say.

---

permanent tags - @sunflowersandotherthings

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Snow Covered Mountains // (F.W.)

Summary: A wintery escape with the one you love.

Prompt 41: Renting a winter cabin

Prompt 93: “You are very endearing when you are half asleep.”

Prompt 94: “How about a kiss?”

A/N: My entry into @vogueweasley‘s writing challenge! Congratulations on your milestone, I am so happy for you!! I’m so sorry it has taken a while to get to! I really did love writing this fic, it’s just so fluffy! I hope you like!!

Warnings: a lot of fluff, post!hogwarts, no angst just happiness

Word count: 2.1k

“Where exactly are we going?” Fred questions: bags in one hand as he holds the other out for you.

You smile, “You’ll see when we arrive.”

Fred goes to question you further; happy to drop the bags and question you until he’s blue in the face but you grab his hand before he can start, apparating the both of you to the winter cabin you had rented for a long weekend.

It wasn’t a large cabin, big enough for the two of you to enjoy the time away together. Fred remained speechless as you led him up the stairs to the porch, digging around in your bag for the key to the door.

Pushing open the door, you step aside for Fred to enter first. He drops the bags to one side before walking further into the large living room. A rustic feel to the room, a great couch takes up the centre of the room, a cream blanket laid over the back of it. In front of the couch, a fireplace sits unlit. Smiling to yourself you follow Fred into the living room, making a mental note to light the fire as soon as possible to warm the both of you through.

Fred moves to walk through to the bedroom, spying the queen size bed from his spot in the living room. Instead, Fred turns to you, eyes bright with happiness and love as he asks, “When did you do this?”

You shrug, “A couple of weeks ago. You came home from the shop looking dog-tired, so I spoke to George and he let me take these days for you. That night, I booked the cabin.”

Fred rushes over to you, taking your face in his hands and tilting it back slightly. His eyes run over your face, searching for the answer to a question you don’t know. “I love you; you know that right. I love you so very much.”

You cover his hands with yours, smiling up at the redhead that had occupied your heart and mind for years now, “I love you too.”

Fred beams, refusing to say another word as he presses his lips to yours in a kiss that effectively ends all conversation for the rest of the day.

--------

The morning starts deliciously slow. There was something incredibly sweet about waking up naturally, without aid of an alarm. The absence of the piercing shriek happily noted by the both of you as you stretched, reaching out for Fred across the bed.

Fred meets you halfway, humming happily in his sleep as he feels your body curl around his. Your legs slip in between his as your hand runs across the flat expanse of his stomach.

From there, the morning turned even more languid. Fred waking, kissing you immediately before rolling you onto your back where he pressed you further into the mattress. Fred in the mornings was really something to behold: sleepy smiles, messy hair and intoxicating kisses. He was a dream in the mornings.

Breakfast is late. Fred cooking shirtless as you sat at the counter, admiring the man you fell in love with so many years ago. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face as you twisted the ring that sat on your finger; a proposal whispered in the middle of the night; an answer swallowed by a kiss.

From there, the day is moved to the large couch in the living room. Fred falling backwards onto it, tugging you down on top of him. After years together, the position is second nature, the weight of each other being nothing but a comforting presence.

It doesn’t take very long for either of you to nod off. Fred’s breathing slows first; his fingers that were doodling aimless patterns onto your back stops, a sign that he’s fallen asleep peacefully. You follow soon after, drifting off with a hand resting on Fred’s chest.

------

Similar to the morning, you wake slowly, finding that neither of you had moved through the late morning nap. Sighing in content, you become aware of a hand playing with your hair. Turning your head, you meet Fred’s gaze. It’s soft and filled with nothing but love. He doesn’t say anything, but a small smile spreads across his face.

“You are very endearing when you are half asleep,” You whisper, tilting your face, brushing your lips against his in a manner that has Fred craving more and more and more.

Fred smiles against your mouth, conscious of the fact that you currently reside on top of him in a manner that could quickly become counterproductive to the day he has planned in his mind.

He taps your hip, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. You shiver against him; a reaction that Fred never got sick of. He pulls back from your mouth, a smile still on his face. “We really need to get up, love,” He states, shifting underneath you, keeping a tight hold on your waist.

“Do we have to?” You question softly, the whisper of suggestion in those four words has Fred’s body under yours heating. He wants to cave; he wants to fall back onto the couch, his mouth attached to yours as his hands wander further under your shirt, brushing against your skin in a manner that will leave you gasping.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs quietly, shaking his head at your words. “I’m afraid we do. It’s snowed some more when we were asleep, and I know you want to make a snowman before we leave.”

You purse your lips, weighing up the decision in your mind. Stay warm and make out with Fred or brave the cold and make a snowman – your only aim since arriving at the cabin three days ago.

“I suppose we should,” You sigh dramatically, moving off Fred and standing from the couch.

He pouts as you move, missing the warmth of your body already. Your eyes run over his naked torso unashamedly, drinking in the sight of the man you had pledged your forever to. It was a sight you could never grow tired of, but now Fred needed to put a shirt on.

“Babe, grab a shirt and then we can head out.”

Fred wiggles his eyebrows at you; relishing in the fact that he can fluster you so quickly even after all the time together. He doesn’t argue; the quicker he has a shirt on, the quicker he can get you back to the cabin and back into bed.

------

Snow covers the ground, untouched and pure. It’s breathtaking, Fred thinks to himself as he rubs his hands together to force some warmth into them. He reaches for the gloves in his pockets, tugging them on as he turns to face you.

He stops halfway round; caught off guard by the smile on your face.

You aren’t looking at him. You’re focused on the view from the porch of the cabin. The freshly fallen snow blanketing tree branches and weighing them down; the crispness to the air and the bright sky that only promises further snow fall.

To be loved by you, Fred realises, is an honour. A continued honour that he will always take above everything else. To know that you love him just as intensely, as encompassing as he loves you has his body feeling whole once more.

There was a time, not too long ago, where he doubted everything. A time where he couldn’t tell reality apart from the nightmares that had haunted him since that fateful day at Hogwarts.

Then you entered his life as a force to be reckoned with. The friendship that he had cherished for years was rekindled when you entered the Burrow and offered him a short and sweet reality check. Fred likes to joke that that was the exact moment he fell in love with you.

But as you smile up at the sky; a peaceful look on your face, eyes shining with happiness so deserved that Fred realises he’s been falling in love with you every day since.

How could someone as wonderful as you love someone as broken as him?

That is very question he asks himself as you turn away from the view, focusing your attention on him. The very love you feel for the redhead written across your face, shining from every pore as you reach for his hand. The gloves make it difficult to tangle your fingers together, but you hold his hand just as tightly as you did that day you whispered yes to him.

How could someone as wonderful as you love someone as broken as him?

Fred remembers the very first moment he asked himself this question. The anniversary of the battle was fast approaching, and Fred could feel himself sinking to a dark place he now visits so rarely, but at one time spent most of his time there. He could feel the weight of it pressing on his chest, constricting his breathing and worrying his mind.

He remembers how you banished the very thought from his mind. How you pressed yourself against him; taking his face in your hands as you listed the ways in which you loved him. By the end of the list, you were both reduced to tears, but he had understood. He had understood perfectly how you could love someone as broken as him.

You were broken yourself. Broken but healing with the help of Fred, just as he was broken but healing with your help.

Still, sometimes he has to take a moment. Only a moment to question how he got here; how he got to this point in his life where he’s in love with someone as lovely as you and the ring on your hand to prove it.

The snow crunches under your feet as you step down onto the first step, turning back to Fred with a large smile. “Come on magic man,” You laugh, “I want to make a snowman!”

Fred cannot help but laugh along with you, following you down the front steps of the cabin and into the fresh snow. It freezes his feet, and the cold begins to seep into his bones, but when you turn to find him following you, the smile that crosses your face instantly warm his body up once more.

You haven’t strayed too far from the warmth of the cabin when you pause, spinning in a circle. “Here,” You state plainly, “Here is where we’ll build Sebastian.”

“Sebastian?” Fred asks, eyebrows flying to his hairline.

“Sebastian is his name,” You explain, bending at the knees to gather the snow.

“Why Sebastian?” Fred asks, a curious but slightly envious tone to his voice.

You shrug, crushing the snow in your hands, “It’s a strong name for a snowman.”

“I’m glad you’ve thought this through,” He states, “But does it have to be a man?”

“Fred,” You gasp, the beginnings of laughter curling in your chest, “Are you jealous of a snowman?”

Fred shakes his head, refusing to answer, “I was just wondering why Sebastian couldn’t be Samantha?”

You fix him with a plain look, still holding the now formed snowball, “It’s a snowman, Fred. Sebastian was the first name that popped into my head. Now, do you want to build a snowman before we freeze our fingers off?”

Fred laughs, jealousy forgotten as he bends down, gathering masses of snow to make the bottom of the snowman. The ball slowly begins to grow as Fred shifts through the snow, pushing the snowball along with a now cold hand.

It’s as he’s doing this when something wet and cold smacks into his face. He splutters, snow freezing his cheeks as his eyes widen at your actions. “What was that for?” Fred all but shouts, enjoying the sound of your laughter at the sight of his sopping wet hair that now falls over his forehead.

“For being jealous of a snowman!”

Fred holds his hands up, admitting, “Alright. I was jealous of the snowman – are you happy now?”

You smile, victorious, “Much. I’ll get to work on the middle section if you’re happy to continue with the bottom?”

“More than happy, love.”

You turn back to your work, gathering and collecting the snow to start rolling into a ball. Fred smirks as he breaks up the snowball in his hands, beginning to creep in your direction, the idea fully formed in his mind.

You screech as the snow falls down the back of your coat; soaking your jumper and everything else you wear. You turn to Fred, scowling playfully as you tackle him into the snow, straddling him as he lays in the cold. Sebastian the Snowman now long forgotten by the both of you.

“Shall we head back to the cabin?” You ask, heat alight in your eyes, love alive in your smile.

“I’d follow you anywhere,” Fred whispers earnestly, “But I have something to ask you first.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Now I have to hear this.”

Fred pushes himself up, propping himself on his elbows; pure happiness written across his features, “How about a kiss?”

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @lunalovegxxd​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @mytreec​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @stupxfy​ @chaoticgirl04​ @accio-rogers​ @starlightweasley​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @lestersglitterglue​ @msmimimerton​ @obx-beach​ @izzytheninja​ @slytherinprincess03​ @bbeauttyybbx​ @breadqueen95​ @acciotwinz​ @kashishwrites​ @slytherinsunrise​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @remmyswritings​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @ria-rests-here​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @inglourious-imagines​ @ithilwen-lionheart​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @phuvioqhile​ @moatsnow​ @missmulti​ @storyisnotover​

Fred Weasley taglist: @whiz-bangs78 @susceptible-but-siriusexual @seppys-return-to-madness @hexmione @ickle-ronniekins @oh-for-merlins-sake @somekidinacoma

[hardskz]

bow down.

pairing — bang chan x genderneutral! reader

genre — modern royalty au, drama-ish, smut; sexual tension-ish, hand kink, brat tamer! chan, degradation, leg humping, humiliation

synopsis — you have eyes. prince bang chan is a whole snack. but you also have too high of an ego and can’t seem to accept that prince chan isn’t full of himself unlike the other dozen members of any royal family you’ve met before. alternatively, this is the disney channel movie ‘princess protection program’ but make it porn only.

note — this fic with a wc of 7k+ does not include any spoilers to the movie and you don’t even have to know what the movie is about you’ll get the gist as you read. ngl half of this is from one of my drafts from like 3 years ago and i never continued it so here i am turning it into filth hahahah (and i needed a fresh idea for brat tamer chan and hence why i think the sfw part is better written than the nsfw lmao) rip also pls accept this as the follower milestone gift and 1 year anniversary special :’)

“I’m pretty sure I asked for a puppy for my birthday — which was three months ago may I add — not for a new roommate?”

You look back and forth between Youngjae and the stranger sitting on the couch who is staring back at you with a curious expression. He looks around your age and you admit, his face isn’t the kind of face that makes you thank your parents that genetics did a decent job on you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.

His face is the type of face that makes you ask your parents why genetics didn’t do a better job on yours. Okay, you haven’t reached that stage of visual inferiority yet but that’s mainly because he is dressed in clothes that were trendy in the 15th century or something. The garments clinging to his skin look like a bad fusion of a suit (which college student wears a suit in their free time?) and the ridiculous costume the marching band at your former high school had worn whenever a football game was up. And those weird golden pins clipped on the blazer makes it seem as if he used to be in the marines or comes from a royal bloodline or—

Oh. 

“Don’t mind my cousin, your Highness. (y/n)’s humor has always been questionable.”  Youngjae sends you a glare before he puts on his sweetest smile — you know, the act he puts on whenever he tries to negotiate a bonus with his boss or woo his date — and opts to ignore your presence. “Anyway, since we are dealing with a more serious issue at hand than originally expected, we need to give you a makeover to—“

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you violently tug him away from the prince and despite Youngjae thrashing around and complaining, you manage to send the guest a forced smile and leave his vision. The moment you let go of Youngjae in the neighboring room, he readjusts his collar. “What? Couldn’t you have waited once I was done? Also, was it necessary to crinkle my collar this much?” he hisses but you get straight to the point.

“What is he doing here?”

“Uh, sitting on the couch?”

“That’s not what I mean.” you grit your teeth and land a punch on his arm. “What is he doing here?”

Youngjae looks over your shoulder, making sure that what he’s about to say next is only heard by you. “Prince Chan is,” he hesitates, unsure how to approach his topic. You know it’s taking up his last nerves to conclude a logical explanation as the tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips; a habit he has adapted ever since he stopped chewing on his bottom lip. “The predicament he’s in is worse than we expected. Well, his dad is partially at fault because he forgot to tell us this not-so-small critical detail that—“

“Youngjae, you’re rambling.”

“The point is.” he sighs and gives you a distressed look as if he already knows you’re not going to like the information at all. “We can’t send him to the family in Goyang, the place he was originally going to stay in. He’s one of the more extreme cases and the Board agreed that he had to live with one of the active combatants to ensure his safety.”

Silence engulfs the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for you to count two and two together.

“He’s going to live here,” you deadpan eventually and Youngjae nods in confirmation.

“I know you’re not very happy—“

“Not very happy is underwhelming.” You earn a flick against your forehead and yelp in pain as you over the spot he just hit. “Ow! I was just stating the truth!”

“Will you stop interrupting me? Geez. Yes, I know that you’re not happy at all. I know that you’re not a huge fan of the majority of our family working in this business. But please do me this one favor or so help me God— try to be nice to him for the next year.”

“He’s staying for a year?” you shriek and in the blink of an eye, Youngjae clamps your mouth shut.

“Can you keep it down?!” he whisper-yells, then retreats his hand and reverts to a conversational tone with a frown. “It’s just a year, okay? Y’know, just... say hi to him whenever you see him. Act civilized.”

You grimace as he stresses his last words like you didn’t know what human decency was. The longer you keep the petrified expression on your face, the more it turns into a staring contest between the two of you. Just as if you were each other’s reflection, you mimic his actions and vice versa. When Youngjae squints, you squint. When you shoot him a glare, he returns it. It all boils down to the final blink that Youngjae feints and you’re the first to look away.

“Okay fine! I’ll try to behave,” you mumble in defeat.

A satisfied smile makes its way on Youngjae’s lips. “It’s always nice negotiating with you.”

Being born into a family where the majority works for the royalty protection program (short: RPP or as you like to stylize it: argh-pee-pee), also known as the secret service for people with crowns on their heads, comes with many perks. In your eyes, this privilege comes with many, many downsides that aren’t worth the advantages. Sure, there is the one or other occasion where you can waltz around in fancy evening attire and attend an actual ball, but overall, it’s a pain in the ass.

Even though it’s prohibited to openly declare that you work for the RPP, the news always finds its way out. Usually, it takes approximately a week for pretty much half of the neighborhood to find out. And it certainly isn’t nice hearing whispers about your dad being that guy working for the program whenever you step out of your house, which is ultimately why you moved in with your cousin Youngjae. (Housing in your small town wasn’t really affordable for a dirt poor college student after all!)

Youngjae has always been your favorite cousin out of the... whatever number of cousins you have. But here’s the thing. He also works for the RPP.

However, somehow he managed to — and up to this day it still remains a mystery to you how on earth he did that — keep his job a secret. Especially with his tendency to dish out the worst kinds of secrets when he’s slightly tipsy. Frankly, you once considered printing out the image of a trophy for that remarkable feat.

With your dad and cousin both active in that business (because organization sounds too shady), it’s not the first time you meet a prince, so you already know how the entire thing works. The concept is quite simple; they get sent to a household but before they settle in and take on a fake identity until their circumstances have improved, they undergo a makeover. Most of the time, it ends up in the glow up you secretly crave but in Prince Chan’s case, you suppose he can’t get any more attractive.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

You’re busy slicing bell peppers for the meal you were cooking when both your cousin and the prince enter the kitchen and Youngjae explicitly demands you to pay them attention. You don’t react immediately, but the moment he threatens to swipe the knife away from you, you perk up and set your desire to prepare your fried rice aside.

“(y/n), uh, hi? I’m Bang Chan and I’ll be your new housemate for a year. I hope we can get along.” Chan recites his introduction without any mistakes and earns a way too brotherly pat on the back from Youngjae, considering that they just met this morning. It’s truly amazing how fast Youngjae can get people to warm up to him. 

Chan is stripped out of his weird clothes and instead, looks like he threw on the next best thing lying around in his room. Nonetheless, despite the seemingly little effort that was put into the outfit, it looks oddly good. The stylists didn’t seem to do much to his hair and just parted his bangs a little, so one could catch a slight glimpse of his forehead. It’s just a small detail, but you find yourself liking his current appearance much more appealing than before, though you’re pretty sure his clothes played a major part in your previous distaste. 

“Remember Jihyo?” Youngjae interrupts your train of thought. “She’s Chan’s relative. And because I’m the genuine friend who loves to help her out, I decided to agree to this after she went down on her knees and begged me to let Chan live with us for a while—“

“I’m not interested in your blown up, fictional background stories, thank you very much.” you backtrack. “Wait. Did you say Jihyo? Seriously? Jihyo is his alibi?” Of course, you remember Jihyo. It’s quite difficult to forget her when Youngjae used to swoon about her at every hour of the day, back when they were a thing. Besides, she still stops by every few months.

“C’mon, you have to admit there is a similar vibe between them!” 

You furrow your brows and inspect Chan a second time. Your gaze wanders back to Youngjae and then returns to Chan anew. It’s obvious that the latter is feeling as if he were up for auction and you can’t really blame him for feeling so uncomfortable. You’ve heard from a few friends that if looks could kill, you’d have the highest killing record. 

There’s no similar vibe in your view, but for the sake of entertaining Youngjae’s thoughts: “He does seem similar to Jihyo.”

“Told ya. But back to more important matters,” Youngjae coughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but it somehow seems as if he’s opting to strangle you. “My duties are calling, so I won’t be back until late. You look like you could need some help with cooking, by the way. I’m sure Chan right here is willing to help you!”

“I’m almost done though—“ you choke when he tightens his embrace. By now, his arm is no longer hugging your shoulder, but rather crushing your throat.

“You look like you could need some help,” he repeats, this time with added urgency. “It’d be a great opportunity for you to bond since you’ll also share pretty much all classes at uni. Did you know, he has the same major as you! Besides, it’d be a very useful life experience for him if he helped you with cooking.”

“Of course, how fun!” you hiss, voice going an octave higher from the lack of oxygen. “I already said that I’m painfully delighted about that, so you can let me go now, Youngjae!”

A sneer and a jab in his arm later, Youngjae finally takes his leave. That nasty liar, leaving an hour earlier than his schedule stated. You know that silently cursing at him isn’t going to make your problems dissolve because that’d be a dream come true.

“Listen, let me get things straight.” you sigh, picking up the knife to resume chopping your vegetables. Youngjae may have ordered you to act civilized, but having eye contact with Chan when you’ve been starving for the past hour isn’t your priority. Food doesn’t make itself. “I don’t have any intention of getting close to you and I expect the same from you. Don’t step a foot into my room, don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary, and don’t think I’ll run around and do your chores or cook your meals like one of your little servants. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’ll be treated like one under this roof.”

“We live in the 21st century, not the renaissance. Your idea of royal families is very dated.” Chan chuckles dryly.

“Baron Yoon Jeonghan from the seven islands is a stuck-up prick and out of touch with the world. It took him several visits to the slums, multiple voluntary hours at the kindergarten, and stripping him off his bank card to make him see reason,” you deadpan. Fuck Baron Jeonghan. Just thinking about your first and last encounter with that entitled douchebag almost makes you slice your finger instead of the bell pepper. “Duchess Yoo Shiah threw a hissy fit when she found out her clothes weren’t dry cleaned and bought from Zara instead of fucking Dior. The one who takes the cake when it comes to privilege is Princess Kim Min—”

“Everyone knows they are problematic,” Chan interjects. True, he has a point. There’s nobody out there who doesn’t know about Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah but he’s also missing the entire point.

“And guess who gets stuck under the care of the RPP?” you raise a brow at him. He blanches at the realization as if he got struck with lightning. Perhaps you should give him more credit because he seems to own more brain cells than Baron Jeonghan. “Exactly. Everyone problematic.” 

Chan’s jaw is clenched as he racks his brain to come up with a smart comeback. The sight of him stumbling on his words is nothing but pitiful, so you turn back to the cutting board and grab an onion to slice in half. “I’m not interested in your sob story, your Highness. I don’t care why you’re under the protection of the RPP. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my business.”

“Chan is fine. No need for the title,” he sighs with a strain. “Perhaps I should’ve been more considerate with my first comment. Youngjae already told me about your… negative attitude towards the entire setup. It wasn’t my intention to anger you. Sorry.”

Well, that’s new. Out of the dozens of aristocrats you’ve met (and sadly also shared a house with back when you were 16 years old and still living with your dad), he’s the first to drop his title within five minutes for the sake of the disguise and apologize. 

“We live under the same roof so we should get along with each other. If there’s something you need help with, just ask me, (y/n).”

“Thanks for the offer,” you reply nonchalantly because act civilized unless you want to suffer from a late-night sneak attack from Youngjae if he finds out. “But no thanks. I don’t need your help.”

You find yourself in need of help a few weeks later, right before the dreaded exam season.

“No. Forget it, Bam. I’m not going out clubbing with you tonight. In fact, I won’t do that anytime soon.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you try to break down to your friend that you prioritize your grades over his need of getting wasted.

“C’mon!” he whines so loudly that you have to put your phone farther away from your ear. “You’re not in that much stress yet! You have to make the most out of it before you drown in your exams.”

“Things are different for engineering students like, uh, me for example!” you hiss. “I fell behind and need to catch up. Ask Yugyeom or Changbin.”

“First of all, Yugyeom is always at the bar doing his job. And Changbin never picks up his phone. There’s nobody who’d dance with me!”

“You abandoned me at the bar for some chick the last time,” you deadpan. “I’m very sure you’ll find someone.”

Bambam finally gets the gist and gives up. “Fine then. Your loss. Have fun dying in numbers and variables instead of living in the moment. You’re going to regret it—”

You end the call and set your phone on mute before throwing it on the bed. Sometimes you wonder whether you were on drugs when you decided to major in engineering. The longer you stare at the jumble of numbers and letters — some of them in Greek too — the more you think your brain cells are decaying.

That’s how you find yourself in the kitchen, complaining at Youngjae’s expense and telling him how much you’d rather drown in bleach than subjecting yourself to Algebra II. 

“You know there’s someone you can ask for help and he’s right here,” Youngjae drawls before chugging down the rest of his beer. If he’s going to be a victim to your temper tantrum about a major that you chose yourself, he might as well get a drink so he won’t go insane from your monologue about numbers and graphs and formulas he’s forgotten since he graduated from high school.

You gawk at him. “You? Are you hearing yourself? You almost failed maths. Twice!”

“Because I didn’t mean myself, dipshit,” he says blankly and his eyes flit over your shoulder, “Speaking of the devil. There comes the man of honor.”

You whip your head back to the door to see Chan enter confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Yes.”

“No, we were just talking about you!”

You send Youngjae a death glare which he casually shrugs off. “(y/n) here is bitching about her Statistics I class and needs a tutor!”

“It’s actually Algebra II if you bothered to pay attention—”

“(y/n) needs a tutor!” Youngjae exclaims and nearly trips on his feet when he gets up from his chair. “Channie, I heard you’re good with numbers. Didn’t you get accepted into all Ivy Leagues in the States for all engineering programs?”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Chan laughs it off and nervously rubs the back of his head. He’s not denying it though.

“Obviously he would. He’s loaded and lives in a castle,” you mutter under your breath, but everyone catches it.

“Hey,” Youngjae warns. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s alright,” Chan says casually. “I just wanted to get myself a snack. But if you have some questions, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. The offer still stands, y’know.” He digs through the cabinet until he finds two packs of the strawberry flavored Pocky knockoff that is 1) apparently his favorite thing to eat and 2) half the price of the Pocky version. He gives Youngjae a thumbs up before he returns to his room.

The moment Chan is out of sight, Youngjae whips his head to you, nostrils flaring. All that’s missing is steam coming out of his ears and his face running red and then he looks like the impetuous brother in every kids cartoon ever. “Really? He’s been staying with us for how long now? Four weeks? Five? Yet you’re still acting as if he murdered you in your dreams or something.”

“I don’t like him,” you state coldly. Youngjae looks like he’s about to rip his hair out.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me being active in this field of work, and I get that you have some hatred against the royal families. But you know you signed up for this when you decided to move in with me.” Youngjae pauses to get a breather and pop a new beer bottle open. “Besides, Chan isn’t like Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah. I have eyes, (y/n), and I’ve seen you two avoiding each other as much as possible. And he doesn’t just laze around — he does the fucking chores and cooks dinner too! Chan is good, (y/n).”

The last words make you snap. “Good? Are you fucking serious? Because that’s why the press in his kingdom is depicting him as a tyrant who cares more about building his sick harem instead of helping the poor. And wasn’t he diagnosed for having anger management issues?!”

All the color leaves Youngjae’s face. This is obviously something you shouldn’t know. While he’s scrambling for words, you take the chance to add, “Dunno why you’re protecting him when he’s making headlines as a prince who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Chan isn’t just a prince,” Youngjae says quietly. “He’s the crown prince.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “What? Isn’t that even worse with that reputation he has?”

“It’s all propaganda,” he sighs and takes a swig, “The ministers are doing everything they can to finish him off. You see, Chan is the only child of the current king of the seven islands, and if he’s wiped out, it’ll be utter chaos. Chan’s smart and I admit, he used to have anger issues, but he’s worked on them. Though I guess he’s resorted to bottling up his feelings when push comes to pull. The point is, all the higher-ups don’t want him as their future king because they know that Chan is very much capable of pulling through with his own ideas and that doesn’t sit well with them. And a supposedly impulsive future king is the last thing anyone wants, hence why his people are eating up the news.”

“Oh.” you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. However, it’s not the first time you’ve heard such stories. 

“Yeah. Oh,” Youngjae mocks, “If that’s the main reason why you don’t want to talk to him, now you know better. He might have power, but he’s not a monster. And for the record, he got into all Ivy Leagues and elite schools all over the world through his intelligence, not his status.”

Although you can see it in his eyes that Youngjae is done with the heated discussion, he’s still waiting for you to say something. You frown. “So… you think he’s a good tutor?”

“He’s your only shot.” Youngjae says nonchalantly, then adds with a warning tone, “But remember: Act. Civilized. Oh, and don’t tell him I told you about his circumstances. It’s supposed to be confidential information.”

You roll your eyes. How the fuck hasn’t Youngjae been busted yet?

Nonetheless, you’re trudging to Chan’s door a few minutes later, your fat binder of incomprehensible math formulas and (Greek) letter heavy in your arm. Chan opens the door with surprise etched on his face after you knocked, but it settles to warmth when you begrudgingly ask him to help you understand Algebra II. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy here,” he chuckles airily once he lets you in. It’s not messy per se, just a few clothes piled up in a corner of the room and some books and messily written notes lying on his bed. Still, it’s by far cleaner than the pig stall that is Youngjae’s room (and yours when you’re having a very bad day).

Chan clears his desk and drags his other chair to the table before plopping down on it. “So, what’s the problem?” Instead of answering, you just shove a sheet of paper up his face. “Y’know, you can talk to me. If this is about earlier, it’s really alright. I’m not mad or anything,” he says with the same friendly tone you’ve been hearing ever since he moved in, yet he still takes the sheet from you. You watch his brows scrunch together the more he reads on, and you can already see the question forming in his mind.

“(y/n), you do know this is the basis to understand—”

“I was absent when the professor covered it and everyone I asked couldn’t quite explain it to me,” you respond before he can finish speaking out his thoughts. “All my friends were like—” you gesture with your hands, “—you just do this and that and then hope your hunch is right. Before you say it, yes I know that I don’t get the material of one entire unit and the exam is two weeks away.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Chan says before grabbing his iPad. You stare at him blankly as he writes something on his tablet. The last thing you expected from him was to accept it and try to hammer as much of missing information as he can into your brain, but then again, you’ve never seen him backtrack whenever Youngjae asks him something. Speaking of Youngjae, perhaps he is right. Chan does seem to know what he’s talking about.

“You have to subtract X first, then replace it with Y,” he explains as he circles said letters in different colors. By now, you’ve leaned closer to him to get a better view on what he’s writing (his handwriting isn’t the worst you’ve ever had to decode; refer to Youngjae who you’ve internally awarded with the worst handwriting of the decade). 

Chan is exceptionally good at explaining. You feel like you’ve figured out a secret of the world that not even Pythagoras found out as you slowly understand what on Earth you are supposed to calculate with the formula. Chan is patient, always asking if you got it or if you needed another clarification, and takes the time to draw colorful graphs to visualize the jumble of numbers. His voice is pleasing to the ear too, soft and gentle to the point where you’ve blurred everything out except Chan. Chan’s voice. Chan’s hand.

You didn’t mean to stare, but with him always adding something new every five seconds as he goes on with his monologue, you can’t help but do so. His fingers aren’t long — that’ll always be courtesy of Hyunjin from Subway and yes, his very pretty hands might be the sole reason you only insist on going to that one specific Subway at the intersection next to KFC — but just one glance at Chan’s hand and you know that he’s strong. 

He’s barely applying pressure to the pen, but you can see the veins slightly protruding. Chan’s sleeves are pushed back and if you move your head a bit, you’re more than certain that veins are bulging out from his forearms too. However, you don’t muster up the courage to do that because Chan will definitely notice and the last thing you want on your platter is to tell him that you were too busy checking out his arms instead of listening to him talk about Algebra II.

Eventually, Chan sets the pen down to stretch his hand. He says something, but you don’t pick up what exactly. Not that it’d matter much anyway since you’re too busy admiring his hand—

“(y/n), you there? I called out your name several times but you didn’t react.” Chan’s breath hitches and surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second when his gaze meets yours. You don’t understand his hesitation, but then horror bubbles in you once you realize that his hand is firmly gripping your chin and keeping your head pointed at his direction. The very same hand you’ve been staring at for God knows how long. 

“I’m good. Just a little tired, but I’m good,” you stutter, though it comes out very breathlessly as if you just finished a marathon.

“Tired?” Chan echoes, concern settling into his features. “You should’ve said so, then I would’ve stopped talking. You need something?”

Now that you think about it, you’ve never got a close look at Chan. Sure, he’s handsome, the countless pictures of Google prove that he’s also too photogenic for his own good (goddamnit, why didn’t your parents make you just as photogenic?) but in person, he’s something else. His lips are plush and look very inviting to kiss, and the lower your eyes wander, the more you see a toned chest hidden underneath that damn shit that hugs him in all the right places.

Fine, his hands aren’t the only attractive thing about him. Then again, he’s a prince.

“I said I’m good.” you snap out of your thoughts and finally gather enough control over your nerves to tear his hand away. “And I caught everything you said.” Of course, you know that’s a blatant lie and he knows so too from the way he’s looking at you. That is until he quirks a brow.

“Okay, then what did I say before I called you?”

Your mouth feels dry. It’s almost as if he knew the reason for your distress. “I caught everything relevant to this,” you mutter, suddenly finding his curtains much more interesting. What an interesting design, maybe you should get yourself new curtains too—

“Then you wouldn’t mind solving these questions, right? Just so I can make sure that you got everything down.”

“Sure,” you reply because that’s the only thing you could say without hurting your ego and straining your vocal cords. Chan doesn’t comment any further and looks for some practice questions before sliding the iPad to you. Already the first question makes your head spin in disdain. Numbers? Variables? Never heard of them.

Chan is watching you like a hawk as you fiddle with the pen, unable to write down anything that makes remote sense. Feeling his eyes on you makes you feel helpless and you shift around in your seat. “What are you staring at?” you glare at him once you give up for good, and you just hope that your look is as intimidating as you pictured in your head.

“You’re definitely exhausted. You’re shaking,” Chan points out. Your eyes widen as you stare down and realize that your thighs are shaking, and it’s then and there when you realize that you’re feeling hot. Seems like Chan doesn’t realize that because the worry written on his face is genuine. “You say the exam’s in two weeks right? We can stop for today and work on this tomorrow. That is if you still want my help.”

You nod and add in a tiny voice, “Yes, please.”

You’re too busy ignoring the heat building between your thighs to notice the borderline feral sound that leaves Chan.

“And here I thought you had quality bonding time.” Youngjae gives a disappointed look. “You’re acting even colder towards him than before your exam meltdown. Your prick level can only stoop down so low.”

You ended up getting tutor lessons from Chan every day before the dreaded day of judgment: the exam in Algebra II. You spent more hours in his room than on your own if you were completely honest, and the results were fruitful. While you did manage to pass the exam with a fairly high score, the price you had to pay was hell.

It’s almost as if Chan caught up on your hand fixation. Sometimes he twirled the pen in his fingers, sometimes it was the simple bracelet dangling on his wrist. Just when you thought he had you figured out, he asks you if you’re alright, visibly oblivious to his effect on you. Such duality in a person should be illegal, you conclude. If you die from whiplash, you know who the perpetrator is.

“You were the one who pretty much pressured me into asking him for help,” you drawl.

“I had good intentions only! You can’t keep up the I-hate-royal-families-blah-blah mentality the entire time!” Youngjae wails before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Watch me.” You internally cringe at the loud crunching sounds he’s making and add vigorously, “And stop chewing so loudly.”

“You’ll get around or so help me God—” he groans when his phone buzzes. He doesn’t spare a glance at the caller ID because there’s only one person who has set his ringtone to the baby shark song specifically for when he’s calling. “I gotta go, Jinyoung’s being a bitch again. Don’t murder somebody. Thanks.” You only watch him shuffle for his bag and grab a handful of chips before he’s out the door. Groaning, you clean up the mess he’s made on the table. 

Just as you’re done wiping the crumbs off the surface, Chan pads into the room. 

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I established right at the beginning that you should only talk to me when absolutely necessary.” you scowl, trying to walk past him.

“Well, this is important,” he urges and blocks the doorway, effectively stopping you from fleeing. “And I do deserve one conversation with you after I helped you out.”

“You offered on your own. That’s not the same as asking for a favor.” You successfully push your way past him, but in the next moment, he spins you around and pins you against the wall. 

“We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not.” The sudden coldness of his tone has shivers running down your spine. Chan holds your wrist in an iron grip and if he clutched on any tighter, you wouldn’t put it past him to break your bones. Out of options, you comply and give him a curt nod before he lets go and takes a step back. 

“I don’t understand you, (y/n). I genuinely thought you would put your prejudices aside but instead, all I get are mixed signals from you.”

It’s your turn to gawk. “Me? Mixed signals? What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about how you keep looking at me as if you want me to fuck your brains out.” If the color hasn’t drained from your face yet, it has now. Chan smiles wickedly at your horrified reaction but doesn’t stop there. “I’m talking about how you talk like you don’t want anything to do with me but act as if you’re begging for my attention.” He takes a step closer to you, and you wish you could morph with the wall. “I’m talking about how you keep staring at my hands and think I don’t notice it.” You wince when he rests his hands against the wall on each side of your face, leaning closer so that you can feel his breath on your lips. “So, you have a thing for my hands?” Bullseye.

“You’re so full of yourself. No wonder your ministers want to get rid of you,” you snap because you’d rather suffer from food poisoning than admitting that you want Chan’s fingers in you.

Something shifts within Chan. He gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to even know about the ministers. His demeanor darkens in a blink of an eye, and you feel like your legs are about to give up on you when you meet his eyes, black and feral.

“You’re playing with fire. Don’t anger me,” he warns, voice low and rough.

“So it’s true that you resorted to bottling up your feelings, your Highness?” you cock your head to the side. Chan clenches his jaw at the mention of his title, struggling to keep his anger in check. You laugh through your nose, then grab one of his hands and force it away from the wall. If he already knows that you’re thirsting after him, might as well go for it. “It’s funny how your ministers aren’t able to string you around like a puppet yet here you are, unable to do anything against a commoner. You know you have nice hands and you know my weakness and yet, you’re not using them on me.” He gulps when you fumble with his fingers. 

And then he understands.

“Unless I misread the situation,” he says darkly, though you distinguish the slight tremor his voice carries. “Do you really want this? I’m not going to go easy on you.” Chan is dead serious, judging by the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“The safe word is petunia.” You don’t take your eyes off him and add in a louder tone, “Now try me, do your worst.”

“You’re going to regret wanting me at my worst,” Chan growls and before you know it, he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but sweet, more of a clash of teeth and tongues and saliva dribbling down your chins, yet it leaves you boiling hot and wobbly on your feet. He presses you up against the wall and forces his leg between yours, the sudden contact making you hunch forward. You moan against his mouth when he tugs harshly on your hair, the sting making your nerves go haywire. In the meantime, your hands roam his upper body, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as you try to buck your hips against his leg. While he doesn’t budge, you manage to elicit a groan out of him.

When you pull away, you’re both gasping for air. Chan’s hair is disheveled from the way you’ve been pulling on them, lips pink and glossy. One look in his eyes is enough to make your heart stop beating. They’re dark and animalistic and set ablaze with unfiltered lust. You’re such in a daze from a simple kiss that you nearly stumble when Chan drags you to his room.

He manhandles you on his bed with ease before his lips latch on yours once more. You nearly sob when he rids you off your pants, putting pressure in all the right places to have you losing your mind. As you’re about to gain back some dominance in the kiss, he breaks it off. His fingers that were once ghosting over your underwear are now tracing patterns all over the material, making you spasm. “You’re such a brat, all bark but no bite. All it takes is one kiss and you’ve lost all your fight. Can you get any more pathetic?” he mocks as he focuses his fingertips directly on the wet patch of your underwear. Your eyes roll back as he rubs on the same spot, the broken moans leaving you eerily similar to cries. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come like this. How sensitive are you?”

“Am n-not—” you cut yourself off with a whimper when he lets the waistband snap against your skin.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he grins and that’s when you break, feeling your high approaching at lightning speed. 

“Don’t wanna come like this—” 

“But I thought you’re not sensitive?” the satisfied grin just widens with every syllable that leaves his lips. “If you don’t want to come like this, all over your underwear, beg.” 

Chan applies even more force to your sensitive spots, and you struggle to have a clear thought. The smirk he delivers is lethal, and you couldn’t be any more convinced that he’s the devil’s incarnate.

“I’ll do anything, please. Don’t let me come like this, that’s all I’m a-aah-asking for,” you weep, your blood nearly boiling at its climax, “I’ll even take a punishment!”

“Say my name,” he orders, fingers still drawing circles.

“Your—”

“My name, not my title.”

Your breath hitches as you finally realize what he’s aiming for. He wants you to remember that it’s him who’s reducing you into this illiterate mess. Him, the one you’ve been despising since before you even met. If you still had any ounce of dignity left, you’d try to fix the power imbalance until you’re left with no choice but to obey, but now you’re so close and the last thing you want to do is come with your pants on.

“Please, Chan,” your voice breaks towards the end and in an instant, he pulls away. As you’re letting you’re basking in the break from his brutal tempo, not too affected by how your upcoming orgasm is fading away, Chan observes you.

And then out of nowhere, he flips you on your stomach and delivers a hard smack to your ass that has you screaming into the pillows.

“You said you’d take any punishment too, right?” You twitch as he rubs the small of your back. You can already imagine the handprints on your ass he continued to slap you with such force that has you moving up the bed. The pain that’s going to haunt you for days. Before you know it, you try to arch your back to lift your ass, but then the bed shifts. “But if you really think I’m going to spank you as a punishment, then you’re really fucking dumb. As if I’ll use my hands on you when we both know you love my hands.”

With that, he drops himself on his chair, spreading his legs that you can see the prominent tent forming in his pants. He orders you over with a flick of his finger, and just as you get up from the bed, a new wave of horror flushes over you.

“Crawl.”

The look you send him is priceless. There’s no fucking way you can do it. It’s just a few meters, nothing you can’t handle, but he’s there sitting on his Ikea swivel chair as if it’s his throne made of gold, watching your every movement like a predator. And then there’s you, only in a shirt and underwear, being forced to go on all fours as if you were his fucking dog—

The difference in power display couldn’t get any more visible. He really is the fucking worst.

“You’d really do anything, huh…” he muses as you drop on your hands and knees and crawl to him, never looking up. It’s only when he beckons you to stand up that you look at him with nothing but rage and shame in your eyes. Chan has always been slightly terrified with your death stare but right now, he can’t take it seriously and it shows. It shows in the way he smiles lopsidedly, in the way his brows quirk in amusement. “Now hump my leg.”

Humiliation runs through your body all over. Your fists are clenched as he waits for you to act, even pats his thigh in case you didn’t get the memo. But oh you do, and his thigh does look inviting.

“Hump my leg like the brainless bitch you are. If you want my hands or my cock, you earn it first. Especially since you treated me like shit ever since I moved in.” The last sentence burns you badly because he has a point. But then there’s the prospect of his hands and dick that’s bulging out of his pants. 

Pushing all thoughts away, you settle on his leg. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you tell yourself it’s all good and then you move. The first thrust knocks all air out of your lungs and you grab onto his shoulders for support. You didn’t even move that much, but Chan’s looking at you as if he’s about to fucking devour you and knowing that he is very much capable of moving you around, you’re starting to become overwhelmed.

Eventually, you lose yourself in the feeling of his rough jeans against your drenched underwear, humping on his thigh as your orgasm builds up. It’s silent, save for your pants, and the countless whimpers flying past your lips as your movements gradually become sloppier. You’re almost there and you know it. But so does Chan, and the moment he’s got it figured out, he lunges from your hips and forces you to pick up the pace. 

“Oh no, you’re going to come,” he growls, ignoring your pleas and sobs. Adrenaline courses in your blood and you know it isn’t long until you fall apart. You try to make him stop, even put your hands on his, but you don’t have the energy to actively push him away.

“Chan, please— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come? Then fucking come on my thigh, (y/n),” he snaps, and then adds, “You hear that? You’re about to come from humping my thigh.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he’s right, maybe it’s the way he’s worded it. Either way, it’s the last straw to make you spasm as you come, soaking your underwear and even managing to make a mess out of his pants. Chan makes sure you ride through your orgasm, only stopping to move your hips once you’re all spent and resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, vision foggy, but the only thing you can envision clearly is Chan.

Chan jolts when your hand grazes over his bulge. You’re about to undo his pants, but he’s quick to stop you and restrict your hands behind your back.

“You think you deserve my cock? Dream on. As if I would fuck any commoner, especially those who don’t respect me,” he spits, and you flinch at his choice of words, clearly recalling that you used the exact same terms and he’s now using it against you. “You said you’d take any punishment. Well, guess what? This was just punishment number one.”

[princip1914]

A few thoughts on writing longfic

I’ve had this post brewing for a while and I figured since today is a Friday I might as well let it out into the wild. 

First off, this is not writing advice. I don’t feel qualified to give writing advice. This is a few observations I’ve made over the course of trying to write something that feels, well, long. Fandom is full of excellent authors writing long chaptered fic, but I don’t see a lot of people talking about how they go about producing such fics. I remember feeling like long fic was really out of reach for me when I started writing again in the summer of 2019 after not writing for years and years and I wanted to talk a bit about how that changed for me. Of course, this post comes with all the caveats that there is no need to ever write long fic if you’re not feeling it. Some of my favorite authors write mostly or only oneshots! But, if you are interested, here’s my lengthy, self indulgent, and entirely personal take on ~the longfic process~ below the cut. 

First, to get this out of the way: long fic is anything that feels long or complicated to you, the author. “I’m working on my long fic” can mean that you’re branching out from microfiction to write something that’s 2k long, or it can mean you’ve got a multi-part 800k epic. There’s no objective measure of if something is “long fic,” Your own personal definitions can also change as you grow in confidence or change your focus as a writer (a little over a year ago when I finished Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire topping out at 31k, that felt very very long to me. Now it feels….still long, but not very very long.) 

Here are a few specific things that helped me write something long. I don’t know if they will be interesting for anyone else, but at the very least writing these down has been a fun way for me to reflect on my own process. 

Practice exercises. Ok, this is going to sound exceedingly obvious, but writing one shots prepares you for writing chaptered fic. Here’s what I mean more specifically: if you know you want to write (as a totally hypothetical example) a chaptered fic set in America in the summer that relies heavily on a nature metaphors, is written out of chronological order, and features a melancholy tone--it helps to write a few one shots like that before you embark on the Big Fic. Just like artists tend to do sketches before starting a big piece, it’s very helpful to write something small that gives you a feel for the ~vibe~ of what you’re trying to do in the long fic. It’s helpful for all the usual reasons--you get to know a specific version of the characters which helps plan out a character driven plot for the long fic--but it’s also helpful because you will learn if the tone and mood of the fic has enough staying power to capture your interest for the long haul. For instance, I have a few unfinished chaptered fics that have a humorous tone. I wish I had done more short humorous fics before starting them, because I would have realized that I don’t currently have the mental stamina to hold up a humorous tone for the length of a chaptered fic (hopefully that will change and I will finish Last Days some time this century!). 

Plan it out ahead of time. I used google sheets for The False and the Fair. I do not think God intended google sheets to be used for fiction, but that was not going to stop me. On a more serious note, I think the best tool for planning fiction is the one you’re the most comfortable with--the notes app in your phone, handwriting, word, google drive, sheets, chalk board, summoning circle, the blood of your enemies, etc. The reason I chose to use sheets is that I knew from the very beginning that I wanted certain things to happen at specific places in the story--for instance, I wanted the first kiss to happen at the end of the first third of the story and I wanted the “reveal” about the mine accident to happen at the end of the second third of the story. But, I didn’t know what was supposed to go in between those elements. A traditional outline for a story at this point in development might have looked like: 

Meet cute

Kiss

Reveal 

Ending 

But, what my brain needed was to preserve the blank spaces in between these story elements, and specifically to preserve the right amount of blank space between these story elements so that it didn’t end up, for instance, that the first kiss was halfway through rather than a third of the way through. In this way, I found google sheets an invaluable tool for pacing in the early parts of the planning process. I simply made 30 rows assuming 30 chapters, and started plugging in the elements I knew I wanted in the locations I wanted them. Then I filled in the blank spaces by asking myself “how do we get from X plot element to Y plot element in Z amount of chapters.” I’m not a mountain climber, but I’ve often thought about the first things that go into the spreadsheet in terms of mountain climbing terminology.  In climbing, a crux move, which can be anywhere along the route, is the most difficult move of the route: if you can’t do it, you can’t do the route. I think of the first things that go into the planning spreadsheet as the crux moves of the story, the most important pieces around which everything else turns. It was not an accident that those were also all the first scenes of the fic that I wrote; if I couldn’t do those scenes, I couldn’t do the story the way I planned it so I wanted to know early on if I needed to make changes.

Make changes if you have to: even though it helps to have things planned in advance, don’t resist the story if it tries to change on you while you’re writing it. Usually the feeling that you have to make changes stems from having a plot that is not entirely character driven. As you write the story, the characters reveal themselves and sometimes the plot has to change to change with the characters’ motivations. Here’s an area where fanfic writers have a leg up on everyone else: if you write fic, you already know the characters really well. That means, (in my experience anyway) it’s less likely that you’ll have a surprise character development which leads to a rethinking of the whole plot. Less likely, but not completely unlikely, unfortunately.

Lie to yourself: The False and the Fair was supposed to be 90k words. I thought that sounded reasonable, a little less than 3x the longest fic I had ever written. Now it's 161k and will probably top out a little over 170k. Ooops. But I never would have set out to write something that long. I wouldn’t have thought I could do it, even though anyone more experienced looking at my plans for the fic probably would have laughed at the idea I could cover all those plot points in 90k. Ignorance is bliss. Protect your ignorance.

Scrivener: Long fic for me means “fic that is long enough you can’t hold all the parts of it in your head at once.” That’s where Scrivener comes in (or another app if you’d rather, but I really like Scrivener for the ability to see the project either linearly or as condensed notecards). You can put together an organizational scaffold in Scrivener that allows you to move back and forth between the forest and the trees. So, for instance, you might be going for a jog and come up with the perfect line of dialogue for chapter 27 when you’re only up to chapter 5 in terms of writing progress. With Scrivener, you can go home, and put that dialogue in the “bucket”/index card/whatever for chapter 27 without compromising your ability to see chapter 5 clearly or muddying up your google doc. You can then use the fact that you’ve started writing bits and pieces of the later chapters in conjunction with the tool of lying to yourself that, actually, you’ve written a lot more of the fic than you realize and that when you get to chapter 27 it won’t be as hard as chapter 5 because you’ve put in the groundwork already. In my experience, this lie turns out to be true about 50% of the time, which is better than 0% of the time.

Digestible mini arcs: The False and the Fair was originally broken up into thirds. I thought it would be 90k and 30k was the longest I had written, so thirds seemed to make sense. Also, 3 is a nice, time honored storytelling number. I think it’s good to give yourself seemingly achievable milestones along the way to completion. These milestones (for me anyway) lined up well with the “crux moments” I’ve described. If you’re someone who likes to write out of order, writing your way to an already written milestone can feel like sailing to an island where you get to rest for a bit from the stormy seas before setting out for the next island in the archipelago.

“It's all part of the process”: I’m categorically incapable of describing things without resorting to running metaphors, and so I apologize in advance, but I am now going to do the insufferable thing of comparing writing a long fic to running a marathon. Here’s the thing with a marathon. You are not going to feel good every step of the way. We all know this. It’s a marathon, it’s supposed to hurt a little bit, especially at the end. In the same way you literally cannot write something novel length or even novella or long short story length without, at least at some point, feeling bad about yourself and your writing. But you also can’t run a marathon if the whole thing is agony, and for most people, it’s not--your meat sack shuffling along the course is subjected to the slings and arrows of all sorts of weird body chemistry that only happens when you push it to its limits. So, you’ll be in agony and then the endorphins will kick in for a while and you’ll be thinking “this isn’t nearly as bad as everyone said,” and then you’ll drink some water at a rest stop and feel like a God for half a mile before you crash and you’re in agony again until that one perfect song comes up on the playlist...and you get the idea. Writing something long, for me at least, is a bit like that. There are massive ups and downs. The key for me is to just understand it’s all part of the process, a necessary step on the way to the finish line. If the fic is 10 chapters long, at some point you have to write chapter 5. Just like you have to write chapter 5, at some point you also have to go through a bit of despair before reaching the end. It is unfortunately non-optional. In fact, despairing is something you can check off your list each time you’ve done it. Cut dialogue tags, check. Feel awful about my writing for thirty minutes, check. Write ending section, check. Often I feel that the stress and shame and fear that come with bad emotions while writing are worse than the bad emotions themselves. It really helps me to remember these emotions are all part of the process and nothing to worry about. If I didn’t have them, then I would worry! 

I certainly have plenty more to say about writing, but this ramble has gone on long enough. If you’re interested in any of this stuff, please feel free to send me an ask. 

I would also love to know more about everyone else’s writing processes, so feel free to pop into my ask box to talk about your own approach too! I am very interested in this stuff! 

[herstarburststories]

Important Milestones (Damian Wayne x reader)

✾ Summary: An intimate look through your and Damian's relationship. Requested! It’s been a hot bit since I wrote for Damian, so I hope this one is good!

↼❈⇁

First meeting

Dick was taking Damian to the circus

Add a long conversation and lots of "Yeah, Dami. I'm sure the animals are treated well-- Actually, animals aren't allowed in legal circus anymore. You don't have to worry."

They were watching the show, and Damian couldn’t believe that Grayson was so excited about clowns

Damian excused himself to get some food

Dick asked him to get a hotdog, but Damian will bring him popcorn #beaveg

Thing is, you and Damian arrived the food trunk at the same time

Which leaded to an argument

Y/N: I got here first!

Damian: You are not on the line!

Y/N: Because you almost ran over me!

You two kept going long enough for a worried Dick to show up

How to trust each other

You know when you've never seen a person before, but once you lay your eyes on them, you start seeing their face in every crowd?

That's basically you and Damian

How come you didn't know the idiot from the circus was also the Wayne guy that studied with you?

How he, with Talia and Batman's observation skills, never noticed you walking around Gotham's School and now he always caught a sight of you?

You and Damian quickly fall into a weird routine:

Glare each other during lunch

Rolls your eyes when the others was talking in class

Annoy each other whenever you had the chance

Jon teased him a lot

Talking about Superboy...

He seemed off in the morning and he hadn't showed up for lunch like he always did

Damian decided to look for his best friend

Surprisingly, he found Jon crying in your arms in the middle of the chemistry laboratory

You just looked at Damian and nodded for him to come in

Y/N: His parents had a big fight. I found him here alone and thought I could help. Since you are here, guess I'll go.

Damian: You can stay. I mean, Jon probably could use your emotional assistance.

Damian still finds you annoying (and so do you), but you helped his friend

He trust you... A bit

Recognize your feelings

Damian came to school one day. He is clearly hurt-- he couldn’t even walk straight

Jon remained quiet. He was there when the week's villain throw Damian against a wall as if he was a bag of potatoes

But you don't know about the Robin detail

Besides, you are sort of a trinity with them now

Therefore, you worry

And you ask

And you worry some more

It's been a few weeks since your friendship started. Damian trusts you, he really does, but not enough to tell you

Let's keep in mind that pretty much like Bruce, Damian isn't the best when it comes to expressing his feelings through anything but violence

So, he acts like an idiot

Y/N: Damian, come on. I'm not stupid enough to believe you’d fall hard enough to get yourself hurt like this. Talk to me.

Damian: Stop pushing your need to fix everything on me, Y/N. You are not my mother. Don't waste your worry on me, I don't need it.

You realized you liked him when you felt way more worried than you usually would

But Damian just noticed his cherish for you when you glared at him with evident hurt in your eyes and left the table

He just wanted you back, making silly jokes with Jon and stealing his fries

Kiss me, idiot

Two days

48 hours + 12 minutes since you two fought

A whole weekend

LISTEN, his life was going perfectly well before you came along

Now it seems like you opened a spot that's exactly your fit and put yourself there

Whenever you aren't around, Damian feels this weird sensation of missing

Jon convinces him into talking to you

As soon as he sees you in school, he does

Apologize becomes another argument (surprise, surprise)

Damian: Why do you care so much?!

Y/N: Because I like you, idiot!

Damian: You, you like me? As in--

Then you kiss him

Because, let's be clear, you'd end up kissing or punching him

Finding out he's Robin

It's the most stupid way possible

Like, for real

Last night, his Robin's duties kept Damian up until 5am

Instead of leaving his clothes inside the Batcave as usual, he just crumbled to his bed

The sun arrived and so did you

School project

While Damian was out to grab some books, you were studying his room

A picture of him and Jon. Some papers with Arabian words. A dog's bed. Robin suit. A sword

Wait, come back

A. Robin. Suit.

Damian Wayne was many things, but cosplayer certainly wasn't on the list

The pieces glued together fast

A rich family would make sense: Batman and Robin's instruments never looked cheap. Four Robins existed among the years, and Damian had 3 brothers. Not to mention that he'd show up with random scratches and never explain what happened. He was good with swords, and the current Robin had been seen with them a lot of times. Besides, Damian Wayne would never wear a costume willingly, much less keep one in his room

He walks inside the room to see you wearing his cape and mask

Y/N: Guess I'm robin' your persona, huh? Wanna tell me something?

Meeting the family

You come from a big family

Good thing because anybody else would be scared if they were in your shoes

MESS, MESS, MESS

Dick is smiling like a crazy all the time, and making dad jokes

Tim is teasing Damian by asking you to blink twice if you need saving

Jason is directly fighting Damian and calling him devil spawn

Bruce is quietly watching everyone with a subtle smile on his lips. He asks you a few questions, and occasionally asks the boys to behave before answering his phone and excusing himself

Babs, Steph and Cassandra come in later

Now the teasing is divided between you and Damian and Steph and Tim

You tease them a lot, blushing Tim is adorable

You are wearing purple boots, and Steph already loves you for that

Dick tells Babara about you being aware of the family secret

She offered to train you for some self-defense

YOU ACCEPTED, DUH. SHE IS THE BATGIRL!!

Cass is more quiet, but very friendly

Alfred was the first batfam member that you'd met, though (also your fav)

You try (key word being try) to help him in the kitchen

Batcow became your best friend, sorry Jon

You met the Titan family as well

Now you had munition to tease Dick as much as he teased you and Damian

Thank you, Kory

Also, Kor is a real life alien princess, how cool is that!?

Beast Boy is the funniest guy -- and now you are pretty sure you became a vegetarian because you can't eat animals after seeing his transformation

Raven reminds you of Cass

Donna is so powerful, and she knows so many languages!

You get along with his two families

Although Damian rolls his eyes a lot during y'all interaction, he is really happy

First kid

You and Damian are in university when it happens

You both know it's a big step

There's no turning back, you two will always be connected

Damian and you are now responsible, parents

Of the cutest bunny!

Yep, you insisted on naming him Robin

The first kid you both adopted together

Get on your knees for me

Damian isn't much of a romantic

You don't really mind

But when he proposes, it's the sweetest thing

You two had ordered some veggie food to celebrate the end of your finals

Finally a break!

Damian was holding you on the couch as you both watched one of your favorite movies when Robin, the bunny showed up

Y/N: Batbunny, just because we have vegan food, it doesn't mean you can get some. Go eat your lettuce.

Damian: Beloved, maybe you should see what he brought for you.

The bunny had a necklace wrapped around him!!

And the said necklace was attached to a ring!!

A FUCKING DIAMOND!?

Extra of love:

You became a vigilant for a bit before deciding how you truly wanted to help people

Besides charity, you became a lawyer specialized in cases of racism and immigration

Your and Damian's wedding was a mix of your culture and his

Comment/Reblog if you liked it, feedback is magic! Wanna see more? Check my Masterlist! How about get tagged on my batboys or just Damian works? Ask me or add yourself to my taglist!

[chaotic-wanda]

Hope Of It All

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Prompt: “I need to know that it’s possible that two people can stay happy together forever.”

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of cheating, lots of angst, but I swear it ends fluffy (y’all should be proud of me for that)

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the Bucky fic I promised forever ago. Sorry for the delay, school and work is kicking my ass currently. So this is for @hopesbarnes​ 1k challenge (it’s super late, i’m sorry). Congratulations on the milestone!! If you’re not following her yet, you should be. This has not been proofread. 

Y/N knew she was acting paranoid. She watched with close eyes as Bucky made the other agent laugh, the younger girl twirling her hair between her fingers and batting her eyes at him. He’s always been friendly with everyone he meets. So why was it bothering her so much now? And why did he have to make the girl laugh so much? Y/N tore herself away from the interaction playing out in front of her, opting to take a stroll outside instead. 

There had been an obvious shift in her attitude since she got back from visiting her sister. She thought she had been doing a good job hiding it, but, anyone who knew her could tell something was off, even Vision. Instead of the happy and bubbly personality they were used to, she had grown tremendously quiet, withdrawing more into herself with each passing day. Bucky had noticed immediately, but whenever he would ask her about it, she would simply shrug and say she was fine. 

As she walked, Y/N looked at the leaves that were already beginning to change color. Fall had always been her favorite holiday. The promise of change and being able to start fresh always made her feel rejuvenated. But as she kept walking, she pulled her cardigan tighter around herself, feeling bitter about the changes this time around. 

She’d been so excited to see her sister and her family. Her brother-in-law was the closest thing she had to a brother and she loved her nephews as if they were her own children. 

Bucky had laughed at how excited she was while she packed.

“You talk to your sister every day and yet, you’re acting as if you haven’t seen her in years.” 

He watched her from the bed as she ran back and forth in their shared room, looking for a particular sweater to pack. She rolled her eyes at his statement but still couldn’t seem to wipe off the neverending grin she seemed to have for him. “This is different! We get to have wine nights in person and I can dance around with my nephews while having our sing-a-longs.”

Grabbing her as she passed, Bucky pulled her into his lap while wrapping his arms around her. “I would gladly do all of that with you and then you wouldn’t have to leave me for a week,” he whispered softly, barely brushing his nose with hers. Y/N smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and softly brushed her fingers through the back of his hair. 

“Mmm as tempting as that sounds…” she started kissing up his jaw causing Bucky to shiver underneath her before leaning into his ear, “you’re not as cute as the 4 and 6 year old boys waiting for me.” 

She grinned as she tried to pull away from him quickly but he was always faster than her. He threw her on the bed effortlessly as she giggled. Caging her in, he peppered her face with kisses as she kept laughing. He pulled back slightly with a soft smile as he watched her catch her breath. 

“I’m trying very hard not to be jealous right now.”

Y/N grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling his lips down to barely meet hers. “There’s no reason to be jealous baby, I’ll always come home to you at the end of the day.” That’s all he needed to hear as his lips softly crashed into hers… 

Her excitement for the trip however had been ruined the moment she’d gotten to her sister's house. What she thought she’d be welcomed with were warm welcomes and hugs to go around for days. Instead, she found her sister alone, with tear stained cheeks and a look of heartache and exhaustion. Y/N quickly learned the kids were with their grandparents and her brother-in-law… well he had been staying at a hotel.

An affair. Y/N was still having a hard time grasping the truth. The harsh reality of her favorite couple coming down around her. They had practically raised her during her high school years and supported her with every endeavor she chose to follow after her parents divorce. They were the only reason she had believed in love to begin with after learning about her mother's cheating habits. It was the one healthy couple she’d ever had involved in her life, and it all turned out to be a lie. 

She’d stayed with her sister for longer than she had planned, only leaving when her sister swore that her best friend was coming to stay. But even as she left, she couldn’t help but feel like everything she had believed in was a lie. It had turned out that once your sister revealed the affair that many of the people in her friends group had one as well. Out of six couples, four had an affair that affected their marriage. Her sister and brother-in-law did everything right and always seemed so in love but it still didn’t work out. So what was the point of love if someone was always going to get hurt anyway? She’d lost her trust in anyone it seemed.

_

Y/N had always been wary of being in a relationship, the trust issues of her pass always seeming to build walls and keep people out. It had taken Bucky years to knock every obstacle down, but to him it had been worth it. Now the walls seemed higher than usual and he wasn’t sure how to bring them back down. Later that day, they silently got ready for bed, Y/N’s back turned towards him as she changed. The emotional distance made him feel sick to his stomach. 

He slowly walked towards her and reached for her hand. She visibly flinched and he quickly drew his own hand back as quickly as he’d reached out. He was trying to hide the hurt that was  evident across his face but she couldn’t even bring her eyes to look at him. 

“Doll… please tell me what’s going on. If I did something, I’m sorry but I can’t fix this if I don’t know why you’re so upset.” 

She stayed silent, leaving the room in a state of uneasiness as they both internally fought with themselves. She desperately wanted to tell him everything. About what happened and how scared she was that they would fall into the same fate. That one day he wouldn’t want her anymore. That she wouldn’t be enough. Bucky trying and failing to think of how to make this better. 

Slowly, he lifted her chin with his finger. Her eyes finally met with his and Bucky couldn’t help but feel his heart break as he saw the turmoil within them. Before she could push him away, he quickly pulled her into a heated kiss. She met him with just as much passion, teeth clashing and desperation mixed in. Suddenly, Y/N thought of everything that had recently happened. Between her sister, Bucky with the agent earlier, and all of her fear and insecurities that were consuming her, she came to her senses and yanked herself away, keeping him at arm's length. 

Keeping her eyes on the ground to hide the tears in her eyes, she hoarsely mumbled, “I think I’m going to go sleep in my old room tonight.” She made a quick exit and slammed the door before Bucky could even get a word out. The tears freely and swiftly ran down her face now as she choked back the sobs. She wanted more than anything to believe that Bucky truly loved her. He’d never given her a reason to doubt that. But she couldn’t help but think he’d leave her in the long run. It was better to have her heartbroken now than later down the road. 

Bucky stared at the door praying she’d come back any second now. He knew he could chase after her but it’s like his feet were stuck to the ground. He had hoped that maybe after the past couple of weeks she’d finally open up and instead, she had shut him out even more. Running both hands through his hair, he tried to calm his racing heart before letting out a frustrated yell. He dropped himself on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands as he kept trying to figure out where it all went wrong. 

_

It had been over a week since their last exchange. Y/N opted for staying in her old room and every time he’d walk into the same room, she’d get up to leave. It broke his heart, but he didn’t want to be even more of a bother to her by chasing her down. The two of them moped around for days, always staring at each other longingly when the other wasn’t looking. The rest of the team was either concerned or annoyed by the lack of communication between the two. Sometimes a mixture of both. 

“Sam, you’ve got to talk to her. Figure out what’s going on,” Steve insisted. 

“How am I going to make a difference?”

“Are you kidding? You’re like a brother to her!”

“Yeah well you’re Bucky’s best friend. Why don’t you talk to him?”

“Because Bucky doesn’t talk when he’s upset.”

“Well neither does Y/N!”

The two bickered back and forth until Natasha finally snapped, “Enough! Sam, you’ll talk to Y/N and Steve you’ll talk to Bucky. It shouldn’t be this difficult.” Both nodded in agreement, not wanting to risk making her any more annoyed than she already was. 

That’s how Sam found himself at Y/N’s door, knocking lightly and waiting for a response. He heard rustling but still didn’t receive an answer so he knocked once more. When he still didn’t receive an answer, he threw open the door. He was met with a pouting Y/N.

“Go away, Sam.”

“Nope. You’re gonna get your infuriating ass out of bed and we’re gonna go for a walk.”

She pulled the covers over her head like it would tune him out. He watched her as he brought his hands to rest on his hips. “Really? You think I won’t drag you out of this bed?” When he didn’t receive a response he sighed before making his way to the bed and yanking the covers off.

“Sam!”

“Get up and let’s go.”

She begrudgingly agreed, knowing she wouldn’t win this battle since he was so determined. 

They walked along the path just outside of the compound, words barely being spoken. Sam wasn’t sure what to say and she wasn’t sure where to start. They would mildly chat about random things until the tension grew too much for Sam’s liking. Once they reached the lake, he decided it was time to level with her. 

“Alright baby girl, what’s going on? You’ve got me worried. Hell, you’ve got everyone worried.”

She shrugged, not daring to look at him but instead out at the water. “I don’t know what you mean.” Sam couldn’t stop the full belly laugh that came out of him. 

“Y/N I hate to break it to you but the only person on this team who is good at hiding things is Natasha. You’re closer to the bottom of that scale.” The comment made her smile slightly before the tears overcame her as she remembered why they were really out here. So she told him everything. About how her brother-in-law cheated, how she started feeling hopeless about relationships and saw that agent flirting with Bucky right afterwards, and especially about how she started pushing Bucky away before he realized he didn’t want her anymore. 

After explaining everything, she looked up at Sam with tears in her eyes, “I just… I need to know that it’s possible that two people can stay happy together forever.” She then dropped her head into her hands in an attempt to hide her tear stained face.

Sam sat with her in silence for a while and tried to rub her back in comfort. He was upset that she had kept so much to herself, knowing she had a tendency to let things fester until it became too much, but even more upset that he didn’t push like he knew he should have. Letting out a sigh, he turned towards her and grabbed her hands, “I can’t promise that it’ll last forever. It takes a lot of communication and a lot of work. But what I can promise you, Bucky loves you. He loves you so much he would go to the end of the earths for you. Shutting him out won’t solve anything and you’ll lose him before you realize it’s too late.”

Y/N took in a shaky breath as she nodded her head. “I don’t want to lose him, Sam. He means everything to me” she whispered. 

“Then go get your man and tell him everything you just told me,” he stood up and pulled her up with him. She gave him the faintest of smiles and threw her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Sam.” After releasing him from her grip, she rushed towards the house in an attempt to find Bucky. 

She looked in several rooms and even asked Steve if he knew without any luck. She finally made her way to their shared bedroom and slowly opened the door. She sighed in defeat as she found it empty but still made her way in, looking around the room. It was strange how it felt foreign to her at the moment. Seeing her favorite sweater of Bucky’s laying on the chair, she grabbed it and slipped it over her shirt, taking in the smell of him. She’d miss that scent and they way he’d hold her close. Y/N slowly sank to the bed and curled up on his side, thinking he’d come in eventually and she’d be there waiting. 

She waited as the seconds passed into minutes which turned into hours. Sighing to herself in defeat since Bucky still hadn’t shown up, she slowly pushed herself off the bed. She lost him and had no one to blame but herself. Herself and her stupid insecurities. Y/N wiped the tears off her face but they fell quicker than she could catch them. Once she finally collected herself enough to be seen, she briskly walked out the door and to her own room.

The second she made it in, she slammed the door and slid to the ground. Sobs racked through her at the realization of her mistake that she couldn’t hear the feet running towards her. She felt hands clutching her arms and a voice asking, “Y/N what’s wrong?” Finally clearing the tears, she saw that Bucky was eye level with her. 

She reached out her hand to softly brush against his cheek, “Bucky? What are you doing here?” 

He grabbed her hands to lift her up before slowly leading her to the bed. Once she was settled, he found her some tissues to help wipe away the tears before settling in next to her. “I wanted to talk to you and when I couldn’t find you anywhere, I figured waiting here until you came back was my best option.” Y/N let out a slight laugh as she used the tissues to dab the tears from her eyes. “What’s so funny?”

She slowly reached for his hand and as he worked to intertwine their fingers, she smiled up at him. “Would you believe it if I said I had been doing the exact same thing?” He slightly smiled back before turning back to their hands, rubbing his thumb along hers. It was always the slightest sign of his anxiety getting to him and it broke her heart knowing she was the cause of it. “Buck, I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been acting.”

“What have I been doing wrong?” the look in his eyes as he asked the questions felt like a knife running down her chest. 

“Nothing! I swear, it was all me.” She attempted to pull him closer without actually ending up in his lap. Bucky looked down once more, and she could tell he didn’t believe her. Letting go of his hand, she gently placed both of hers on his cheeks in order to get him to look at her. “Please… you have to believe me when I say it’s nothing you did.”

“Then why did you push away from me? You know I’m always here for you. And you even flinched when I tried touching you not even a week ago.” Her cheeks flamed up at the accusations. She knew he was right and she truly felt shitty for it. 

“I know I don’t have the right to ask... In fact you could walk out of this door and never speak to me again and it still wouldn’t be enough for the way I’ve treated you… but can you just hold me?” her eyes were pleading and she looked at him with such desperation. Bucky didn’t even give it another thought though as he laid back and brought her with him. With an arm wrapped around her, he pulled her in close so that she could snuggle up closer to him. She rested her head on his chest just under his chin then grabbed his free hand with her own, working to intwine their fingers. Bucky was calm and understanding, and she knew he deserved better than her. 

A few seconds passed as she gathered her courage. “When I went to my sisters house, it felt like everything had gone to hell. She told me how her husband had cheated on her and she just looked so… broken.” Her voice quivered and Bucky pulled her in even tighter if it was possible. He knew that they had been a role model of romance for her growing up. “It just made me believe that love was hopeless. If they couldn’t make it, then who could? And then I got home and I saw that agent all over you. Despite the fact it was obvious you weren’t flirting back, it’s like my mind just shut down. All of my fears and insecurities cruelly took over me and I was worried that we were destined for the same fate. As if you were already growing tired of me.”

Bucky adamantly shook his head despite her not being able to see then pulled away just enough that he could look her in the eyes. “Doll, I don’t want anyone else. You know I easily get sick of other people, but I’m not sick of you. Ever. I’m actually pretty in love with you.” Her eyes closed to let the words sink in and she couldn’t control the few tears that found their way out. He pulled her up higher so that they could be face to face, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Out of everyone I’ve ever known, you’re the only person I want to spend every day of my life with and that’s counting Steve.” She laughed at his statement and the grin on his face grew at hearing that sound. 

Her eyes met with his own as she placed her hand over his. She took a mental picture, wanting to remember this particular moment in spite of the ugliness and hurt that had been caused because it also came with hope and love. “What are you thinking about, baby?” Bucky’s voice coaxed her out of her own thoughts. 

“I’m pretty in love with you too. I’m sorry I’ve been acting like an idiot.” 

He brushed his nose slightly again hers, hovering right about her lips. “Promise me you’ll always talk to me when doubt starts creeping in? I’ll be sure to knock it right back out,” he whispered against them. She nodded and not even a moment later her lips crashed onto his, letting go of everything that had held her back. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her on top of him as he kissed her back with just as much ferocity, tongues tracing each other as if they were trying to learn each other once more. They both pulled away once the burning in their lungs became too much. Letting out huffs of air, they still didn’t let go. Y/N began leaving soft kisses along his face before meeting at his lips and giving him a soft peck. 

They spent the rest of the night curled up into each other, catching up on everything that had happened from the past few weeks while sharing a few kisses here and there, only ceasing their discussion as eyelids grew heavy and sleep overcame them. And for the first time in what felt like a long time, she finally slept through the night while holding onto the man she loved and who she knew loved her just as much. All the fears and insecurities that once drowned her now easily had slipped away and was replaced with the hope of all they would become.

Tagging: @winterprincess-sky​ @bugsbucky​

[otonymous]

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part III: Near & Far

Description: Promising beginnings and a premature end throw you into a tailspin Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: depictions of mild PTSD symptoms, mentions of death of a close family member, disappearances, “breakups,” angst, profanity Word Count: 1882 words (~9 mins of falling in love and wallowing in angst 😱😂) Author’s Notes: If you’re still following this story, please accept a giant (virtual) hug from me to you!  Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart for supporting me and this piece of work! 💖 Without further ado, I present to you part 3 of my slow-burn Shaw fic, written for the lovely @op-peccatori​ as part of my follower milestone celebration.

As always, dear reader, please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, and happy reading! 😊

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Four

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“You can relax, you know.  I won’t try anything funny while you sleep, not my style.  Besides, isn’t this much better than camping out on the floor?”

Nodding your head before you realize that Shaw probably couldn’t see you in the dark, your “Yes” comes out in a mewl so pathetic you wished you could immediately take it back.

His snicker shakes the bed, reverberating across squeaky springs to where you lay beside him, right at the edge of the twin mattress as you tried not to let your hands touch.

No matter how much you wished for them to.

Beyond the window, a neon signboard paints electric shadows on your walls in splashes of pink, flashing in time to a rhythm Shaw tapped out with one foot beneath the covers.

“Is it cool if…if we didn’t draw the blinds tonight?  I can’t sleep in complete darkness.” He had asked you earlier that evening, towelling off his hair as he emerged from your bathroom wearing a shirt your ex had left behind along with your broken heart a year and a half ago.

Snoopy looked much better riding his skateboard across Shaw’s broad chest anyways.

And there, in the midst of an awkward arrangement where sleep would surely prove fleeting, the sounds of the night: the low hum of the refrigerator, the pawn shop’s sign buzzing just on the other side of the windowpane…the tick-tock of the clock on the wall, steady like Shaw’s breath beside you as it counts down precious time—

“I’ll be out of your hair first thing tomorrow morning.”  

Ba-bump.

“No, there’s…there’s no rush.  Honestly.”

“Can you really afford to miss more work because of me?”

Silence.  You couldn’t refute the truth.

“Tell you what, in exchange for putting up with me, you can ask me anything you want.  I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes; surely you must be curious about some things.  Might as well find out before I go.”

Your stomach knotted, clenching tight.  He was right.  For all you know, it was now or never.  “Why did you join?  The triad, that is.”

He is silent for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to piece together.

“I’m looking for my brother.”

Out of all possible answers, this wasn’t one you were expecting.  Turning onto your side, you study the handsome profile of his face — watching as pink mixed with lavender in the most ethereal way until you were overcome with the sense that in this vast ocean of life, you and him stood on very different shores.  Eyes still fixed on your ceiling, Shaw continues.

“He was an undercover cop, working to infiltrate the ranks of the group I’m currently a part of.  I only found out by accident, and he made me swear up and down not to breathe a word of it to mom.  Then one day…he was gone.  Just...disappeared off the face of the earth.  Mom and I went down to the station every day for months, knew the names and faces of everyone who worked in that building, but it was like Gavin never even existed.

“It was too much for her.  I came home late from school one day — found her on the floor, barely breathing.  It was dark in the apartment…so dark.  She had probably just drawn the curtains.  By the time the paramedics arrived, she was already gone.  Heart attack, they said.  

“I lie awake at night sometimes, wonder how I’m going to tell him that mom’s no longer here — go through the motions in my head, rehearsing every line.  ‘Cus I know that sooner or later, that day will come.  There’s no way he’s dead.  I know my brother.”

A glimmer at the corner of his eye catches yours.  Beneath the covers, your fingers inch towards his, finding courage in the darkness to brush against his pinky as if the sliver of warmth could express what words simply couldn’t convey.

“With mom gone, there was nothing to lose.  I joined the group, worked hard…did what they needed me to do to gain their trust, all while collecting scraps of info here and there — whatever I could get my hands on in the hopes that it’ll lead me to Gav.”

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Tiny drops of rain speckle your windowpane.  And when Shaw’s finger hooks around yours as if in a solemn pinky swear, the tears burning your eyes finally fall.  You don’t ask him how many years it’s been, the dirty deeds he’s had to sully his hands with.  You don’t question him about the father he doesn’t mention.  All you can do is watch as a solitary drop rolls down the side of his face before soaking into lavender strands fanned out on the pillow, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back bitterness only he knew.

In spite of it all, he is the one who chuckles when he turns towards you, eyes red rimmed even as his brows rise in feigned exasperation when he says, “Why are you crying?!  I’m the one with the tragic past here!”

And when you start to cry even harder, his soft hushes of “Shh, shh…I’m sorry, that last part was a joke.  It’s all right, everything will be okay, I promise,” burrows deep into your heart and you believe him.

Because when he reaches towards you — the thumb wiping the tears from your eyes calloused yet gentle — you are struck by a sense of overwhelming tenderness:

In the carefulness of his touch.

In the way he regards you with the sincerity of some unspoken emotion.

In the entirety of this man whom the rest of the world has already written off.

And that is when you know…

“I didn’t mean to make you cry by telling you all this, I’m sorry.”

…that you are in love with him.

“I’ll make it up to you.  Ask me another question.  Maybe something less depressing this time.”  

A smile spreads across his face.  You wished there was a way for you to keep the warmth of his hand on your cheek forever.  Sniffling, you try again.

“Wh-why did you keep coming in to my store everyday?  There’s a lot of other convenience stores in the area—”

A flash of panic in those amber eyes, and Shaw is turning over with lightning speed until all you can see is the smooth expanse of his back.

“Changed my mind.  A guy’s gotta keep some secrets!  Goodnight!”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

Wrap your arms around the pillow.

“Good girls shouldn’t concern themselves with bad boys.”

Bury your face into its cushiony fill.

“Or have you forgotten that I’m wanted by the police?”

And inhale deeply.

Shaw’s scent on your sheets is faint now, so much so that you can’t be entirely sure you’re not imagining it, having gone through this ritual countless times since the day Shaw left your apartment…

…and stepped out of your life.

                   *                                         *                                          *

“Is there…any way I could stay in touch with you?  I-I just…just want to make sure you’re okay…”

Voice trailing off, you watch as Shaw gingerly shrugs one arm then another through the sleeves of his leather jacket, still wearing the Snoopy t-shirt he had slept in the night before after you told him he could keep it.  His own was torn beyond repair, stubbornly dyed in blood regardless of how much you scrubbed at it.  And when he hesitated still, you said he would just be doing you the favour of taking out the trash.  

Smoothing down the front of his jacket, Shaw glances at the phone in your hands — eyes tracing along your eager fingers, poised to type.  The expression on his face is unreadable, as if the man you had spent the night sharing secrets with was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

“It’s better if we don’t.  I’ll be fine, just laying low for the next while — boss’s orders.  And I don’t want the cops coming around to your place again.  Detective Whatshisname looks like he could be really good at hounding pretty girls like you.”

That smirk again, so familiar to you by now.  And in the compliment that would’ve made you blush bright red before, nothing but a smokescreen.

“Shaw, I don’t mind—”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?" The force in his voice cuts, and you barely breathe to feel his finger curl beneath your chin, tilting up your face until you have no choice but to meet his gaze.  Those eyes are dull, like molten gold frozen beneath a layer of impenetrable ice.  “Good girls shouldn’t concern themselves with bad boys.  Or have you forgotten that I’m wanted by the police?”

The shiver that runs electric down your spine makes the hairs on your skin stand on end.  It was like looking at a stranger.  Heart racing, your palms grow clammy with sweat, unsure of exactly when your phone had dropped from your hands, slipping away like…

“I don’t care about the cops!  I’ll deal with them—”

“DEAL WITH WHAT?!  You think that just because you managed to turn them away at the door that it makes you a hardened criminal?!  WE are not the same, okay?  My life is worthless.  I’ve already signed it away a long time ago, I’m ready to give it up without a second thought.  But you…you’re different. Y-you’re kind, innocent.  You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.  One day, you’ll make someone the luckiest person in the world, be a beautiful mother to beautiful children.  Don’t sell yourself short…not for someone like me.”

The silence that descends is thick, suffocating.  You don’t speak, afraid to open your mouth because it takes all your concentration just to keep the tears from spilling from your eyes.

Finally letting go of your chin, Shaw reaches behind his neck to undo the clasp on the thin gold chain he wore, the jade disc pendant that hung from it still warm from the heat of his skin when he places it in the palm of your hand.

“It’s not much, but it was a gift from my mom and the most valuable thing I own.  You saved my life, so it’s yours now.  Maybe…maybe one day, you can give it to your own child.”

Lump in your throat, you can barely breathe, let alone tell him there was no way you could accept something that precious, something that priceless.  That you didn’t drag him home that night, broken and bleeding, in the hopes of gain; not for money, not for love.

He curls your fingers around the heirloom, gentle thumb pressing on index, middle, ring then pinky in turn before your fist finds itself held tightly within the press of his much larger hand for one…two…three seconds…

…before those purple Chuck Taylors take him to your door…

Slam.

…and just like that, the man with the lavender hair is gone.

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Forgive me for trolling, but there really was only one bed LOL!  Hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, and please stay tuned for what may be the final instalment in this Shaw saga! - XOXO

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Four

Thanks so much for reading! 💕 Check out more of my work here! 📚(Please do not repost/copy/alter my work.  Reblogs, on the other hand, are a-ok and much appreciated! 👍🏼💖)

[sunshinejihyun]

The Fool in Love Was Actually the King || Kiro

Author’s note: I’ve been needing some sweet, fluffy Kiro content lately, so I needed to deliver.

Warnings: there’s a thunderstorm? does that count as one?

Word count: 2553

Masterlist

It started off as a humid day, the type of day that made Kiro’s hair stick to his forehead and the back of his neck and the girl’s hair would have as well, except for the fact that she had already pulled it up in a small ponytail, grumbling about the weather.

Despite her sour attitude over the stickiness in the air, Kiro was still able to drag her along to the pond behind his house and got her in a boat for a little picnic while watching the large koi fish swim about.

“So,” she started, talking around a mouthful of sandwich. “What big thing are you working on next? A movie, magazine shoot? No, wait! Let me guess, an album?”

The way she got so excited over his work made Kiro’s heart warm and his stomach flip. When other people asked him about things related to his job, Kiro knew it was only because they wanted to have the insider scoop. But not her; no, she genuinely cared about him and asked because she was interested in him and what he was enjoying.

“Hmm… you must know me so well, Miss Chips!” He exclaimed, taking a swig of water as her face brightened into a beautiful smile. “Yes, I’m working on my second album. Today was the first time in weeks I’ve been able to be out of the studio!”

“And you chose to spend it with me? I’m honored!” She polished off her sandwich and there was a smudge of peanut butter on the corner of her lips. Reaching over, Kiro brushed his thumb over her soft lips and collected the peanut butter onto his thumb before popping it in his mouth and sucking it off. “K-Kiro!”

“Tasty!” He exclaimed, secretly pleased at the blush starting on her cheeks. As she stared at him speechless, Kiro felt a drop of water on his head and looked up at the darkening sky and as she raised her eyes to see what he was looking at, rain started pouring down. “Hold on, let me move the boat, we shouldn’t be out on the water if it’s going to storm!”

Kiro was too focused on rowing back to shore that he couldn’t even concentrate on the fact that she was definitely watching his muscles move underneath his tee shirt and getting flustered sitting across from him. As the boat reached the dock, Kiro got out and tied it to the pole at the end before holding his hand out to the girl, and as she took it, he relished in the warmth and softness that he found himself craving when he hadn’t seen her for a while.

Standing on the dock, one of her hands enclosed in Kiro’s, his other hand went to lightly rest on her waist. “I’ve never kissed someone in the rain before, what do you say, Miss Chips?” Although his voice came out teasing, Kiro was nervous. Sure, he had kissed the girl countless times before and didn’t want to seem eager, but he couldn’t deny that he had been craving feeling her lips against his once again and… he was a romantic; Kiro had heard that kissing in the rain was one thing you should do with the person you loved at least once, and he wanted to try it with her.

Without saying anything, she stood on her tiptoes and gently brushed her lips against his own and as she did so, Kiro’s grip on her waist tightened slightly, keeping her in place so he could kiss her longer, relish in her taste for just a moment more. When Kiro released her waist, she looked up at him with shining eyes, adoration dancing over her features and he was sure that he looked quite the same.

Then the lightning struck. The both of them jumped in their place, their grip on the other tightening only slightly and Kiro started off in a light jog, urging her to keep up. “C’mon, my house is right up this hill!” His grip on her hand was slipping from the wetness pouring down on them and Kiro stopped for a second to move his hand to her waist and finish guiding her to the house like that, a secure grip on her the rest of the way.

Stepping in the doorway, Kiro shook his wet hair out of his face and brushed it back, all the while she slipped out of her wet shoes and soaked jacket. With a glance at her, Kiro felt his cheeks heat up as he noticed her shirt clung to all of the curves. It was hard to peel his eyes away, she was so breathtakingly gorgeous he could have easily stared at her all day and never find anything he’d get bored of looking at.

“Um, Kiro?” She was looking at him like he had grown two heads and Kiro realized he had been staring for longer than he thought. “Can I borrow some clothes so I’m able to heat up? I’m freezing cold.”

To be quite honest, the only thing going through Kiro’s head currently was the thought of soaking in a bubble bath with the girl standing in front of him. To be able to see her relax and just let go for a few moments, those were his favorite times. Where she wasn't worrying about work or stressing over the messages Victor left on her phone; where she could just spend some time with Kiro alone, no cares in the world except for how much the both of them cared about the other.

So Kiro quietly took the girl’s hand, guiding her to his rather large bathroom and turned on the tub, letting it fill with water before gesturing to the collection of bubble soaps he owned. “I thought we could have a bath together… don’t worry, I won’t look! I’ll close my eyes and you can even keep your underwear on if you want! I just want to spend some time together.”

She stepped forward and kissed Kiro’s lips once before choosing a soap that smelled like sweet strawberries and pouring a generous amount by the faucet. As bubbles started forming, she pulled off her shirt before dropping her soaked skirt to the ground. “Keep those boxers on, Mister!” She exclaimed as Kiro started to pull his pants down over his hips. She admired him as his shirt came off and Kiro knew his neck and chest were starting to flush red from her watchful eyes on him. He could stand in front of a crowd with no problem, but as soon as he stood in front of the woman he loved, he was a flustered mess.

Love. It was such a silly thing; when he met the extraordinary woman who was now settling in between his legs, her back pressed to his chest, Kiro felt his whole world change. Where he used to see muddy puddles on the ground after a storm, when he met her he started to see the rainbows in the sky. She helped change his perspective on the world, and finally taught Kiro what it meant to feel loved.

Sure, he was adored by many people, and he appreciated all his fans immensely, but she loved him for everything he wasn't, whereas they loved him for everything that he was forced to be. She loved Kiro despite his obsession with comics and the dorky way he sang and danced when it was just the two of them alone. She loved him even when he cried in her arms some nights, when the pressure from everything became too much and he just needed to release it somehow. She just loved him.

Kiro loved her just as much, if not even more than she loved him. He found himself thinking of her every day and wondered if she thought about him as much as he did her. He loved the way her hair first looked in the morning before she showered, all poofy and bangs flying everywhere. He loved the way she tried to cook for him but still managed to burn everything she put on the stove. And he loved the way she looked at him, like he was the only person in the world for her and that look was what could dispel all of Kiro’s worries in a fleeting moment.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, leaning her body back against his so her head was on his shoulder and she could lightly kiss his neck. “You’ve been awfully quiet today.” “I’m thinking about all the deserts I could be eating right now,” he teased, his fingers dancing over her bare sides, making her squirm and giggle. “We should order a bunch for tonight.”

“Tonight? What is tonight?” She questioned, moving so she was sitting still in his lap but this time facing Kiro.

“Well, we’re having a sleepover, of course!” He exclaimed, leaning in and kissing her browline and dissolving the confused look on her face. “What kind of boyfriend would I be, knowing you have a fear of storms, to let you go home tonight and sleep by yourself?” Her eyes shone, and Kiro couldn’t tell if she was crying because he remembered, or happy that he just assumed she’d be staying the night. Maybe it was both, but either way she moved in and wrapped her arms around his neck, and Kiro immediately hugged her back, his hands resting on the middle of her back. “At this point I should just move in,” she pulled back with a playful look in her eyes, resting her forehead against Kiro’s. “I stay here more than I do at my own house when you’re not on tour.”

“I think we can figure something out! It would be nice to come home to you after I finish a leg of a tour.” Kiro answered honestly and the grin on her face went straight to his heart and the piece of it she already owned just grew a little bigger. “Will you move in with me?”

This was it: the biggest milestone they could take before getting engaged, and Kiro was ready to jump all in. This was the woman he loved, why should he spend more time away from her than need be?

“I would like that a lot Kiro, yes. I love you.” She always said those three words with such sincerity. No matter how many times she said it, it felt like she was saying it for the first time.

“I love you too!” Kiro stood up to grab a shampoo bottle, water falling off of him like a waterfall, and tapped both of her shoulders with it. “I now crown you, Potato Chip Queen! And you know what your first act shall be after being crowned Queen?”

She giggled, rubbing her shoulders with her hands. “I don’t know, Kiro! What?”

“You must kiss your King, of course!”

She stood up and he bent down to meet her shorter stature, her lips planting firmly on his for a second before pulling away. “Mwah!” She laughed at his shocked expression and moved to get out of the tub. “Your Queen demands some new clothes to wear! Go on now, or else you’ll upset her and you don’t want to know what’ll happen if she gets upset!”

Kiro grinned before wrapping a fluffy towel around his waist and stripping off the boxers clinging to his lower half and quickly exited the bathroom making his way to his bedroom to dress himself before dropping some clothes outside the door and calling for her to let her know they were there. Continuing on into the living room, calling and placing an order for takeout before settling down on the couch and scrolling through his phone.

As she stepped into the living room, Kiro let out a low whistle. She looked gorgeous no matter what she wore, but in a pair of his sweatpants and one of his tour tee shirts, she looked ethereal. “Next time you need a change of clothes, you can go into the closet and grab your own!” He stated proudly.

“What if I don’t want my clothes? Yours are pretty comfy!” Her smile dropped off her face as lightning struck and the building shook and she quickly jumped onto the couch, throwing herself in Kiro’s arms. Kiro rubbed her back comfortingly as the storm raged on outside and when the doorbell rang signaling the delivery was there, he walked with her tucked under one arm to grab the food sitting on the doorstep. “You ordered me food?”

She snuck out from under his arm and poked her head into the bag. Once she was satisfied with the order she snatched it from Kiro and made her way to the kitchen before dumping some of the dinner onto a plate. “Make yourself at home, babe.” Kiro teased.

“This is my home!” She responded before handing Kiro a plate she had piled food on. “I’ll meet you in the living room! After we eat we can make a pillow fort!”

With the thought of the storm momentarily gone, Kiro followed closely behind the girl and flopped down next to her on the couch, both of them eating quietly as they rushed to eat the food before it got too cold.

Once he had finished, she took his plate back to the kitchen to wash up and Kiro stood up, grabbing all the couch cushions that would detach and threw them on the floor before grabbing some chairs from the next room over to hold up the sheet over the cushions. She reentered the room with an armful of blankets and silently started making a little bed for the both of them to lay on and once she was satisfied with how it looked, she and Kiro put the sheet on top of the chairs together.

“After you, my Queen!” Kiro gestured inside the fort and she crawled in, pulling the blankets back for Kiro to climb in next to her. “This is cozy.”

Snuggling into his chest, she breathed out a sigh of relief. “I could get used to this, laying with you every night.” “Well, good!” Kiro exclaimed, his hand rubbing up and down her back in a comforting motion. “You’re going to have to!”

Suddenly she gasped, moving to sit up. “Kiro!” He looked at her, heartbeat picking up in panic as she twisted her face in disappointment. “We didn’t have dessert!”

Kiro laughed and pulled her back down to him, her lips softly meeting his own. “That’s alright, you’re the sweetest thing in this house currently, my Potato Chip Queen!” Her mouth twisted in a soft smile and she buried her face in his neck, arms wrapping around his middle. “Now sleep, my love. Plenty of time for sweets tomorrow, and every day after that.” He kissed her forehead and she made a sound of contentment, her eyes closing as her full day caught up with her and before long, she was fast asleep.

Matching his breathing with her own, Kiro finally felt at ease in his own home. She helped to build the foundation with love that ran so deep, he’d be able to feel it even in the darkest storms.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The Raven; Let Loose

Part 2 of the 1000+ follower milestone! A continuation of the Raven lore outlined in part 1. I believe I will have a few more parts coming out shortly, just to solidify the Raven and Jade lore—and, I suppose, to make up for the lack of events for previous milestones (600, 700, etc.).

Today, we have the Raven’s introduction to Night Raven College! It’s a bit longer than my usual works, so it will be censored under a cut. Please enjoy~

The raven stares into a full-length looking glass. Whoever stares back at them is practically a stranger.

Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?

A short girl with milky skin and long hair as dark as the night, swept over one shoulder, wears a perplexed expression. Their amber eyes appear even sharper than they typically are, no thanks to the smoky shadow that lines the outer corner of their lids. They are dressed in long, black robes edged with an intricate gold pattern--the interior of the robe is violet and dotted with gold.

“You look rather fetching in those coveted ceremonial robes!” chirps a jolly voice. It belongs to a man bearing a crow mask, a top hat, and a dark cape--leaning on a walking stick. He taps a talon under the raven’s chin.

“...Wanna stay home,” they mumble, tugging on their hood. The raven’s words are terse, clumsy, and unpracticed. They are too used to cawing and the sounds of bird speak.

“Excellent orating! Before you know it, you will be speaking human as well as you can write it!” The man in the crow mask declares. 

“But...feels weird, Mister Dire.”

“No, no! I’ve told you before, have I not? Refer to me as your dear old Uncle Crowley!” he insists, waving a hand. “And you are...?”

“Erm...Raven. Raven Crowley,” they mutter, wanting to vanish into their hood. The have practiced the line so many times, but it still does not feel natural rolling off of their tongue. “Uncle’s...niece.”

“Correct!” He gives them a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’ll do just fine at the ceremony, my little black bird.”

“Scary...” The raven shivers and pulls their robes tighter around themselves. “I...I don’t want to...”

“Nonsense! You cannot keep roosting in the attic forever, toiling over those accursed storybooks of yours. It would do you some good to socialize--and I shan’t have the little bird I have taken under my wing wasting their life away on quill and ink!” Crowley shakes his head. “The time has come to set this raven loose on NRC.”

The raven stares doubtfully at their reflection.

“Let me give you a piece of advice--because I am so very, very kind. Words have power--but so, too, do actions. You must put yourself out there if you wish to change the course of your story, curse be damned.”

“I’ll...I’ll try.” The raven does not believe their own words.

“Very well. I shall see you at the Mirror Chamber, then.” Crowley turns on his heel and makes his way to the door.

“A-Ah...! P-Please wait for me...” The raven cries out, stumbling after the headmaster on unsteady feet, the fabric of their robes billowing out behind them.

“Oh, my apologies--I neglected to mention that you will be making your way to the chambers without my guidance!” Crowley tosses a mischievous grin over his shoulder. “After all, cuckoos must be pushed out of the nest if they should ever wish to fly. Spread your wings, my little raven--and enjoy your new school life!”

He gives a firm tap on the ground with his walking stick--and he vanishes in...a flash of light.

The raven’s stomach sinks, as though they have swallowed stones for breakfast. Vanishing in a flash of light--that would be their own fate if they did not tread carefully.

They sigh, shoving such ominous thoughts into the back of their mind. First thing’s first: make it to the ceremony in one piece, or else they shall never hear the end of it.

The raven throws open a window, then climbs onto the sill, hoisting themselves up and out. (Why did Crowley use the door? Windows are much more efficient for birds.) They tumble into the bushes.

The bird pops their head out and squints into the sunlight. By the Great Seven, the campus is positively teeming with students, all dressed in the same robes as them. The raven shudders at the thought of approaching any of them for directions.

They tuck their head into the bushes and begin to crawl, covered by the foliage. Unfortunately, the raven does not make it long before their path is blocked.

“Ohoh? What do we have here?”

The raven freezes--for young man with a blonde bob cut and emerald eyes has materialized before them.

“Bonjour--a bit early for a game of cache-cache, is it not?” He’s grinning, taking in the sight of a small bird curled up on the ground. “Ah, but more importantly, what is a lovely mademoiselle such as yourself doing in this den of lions?”

“...What?” The raven quirks an eyebrow at him. They have never heard such...strange, flowery phrases before.

“Ah, excuse moi!” His hands go up in the air. “You must be rather lost and confused, mademoiselle. Perhaps I may be of assistance?”

“N-No...I am okay...!” The raven insists, scrambling to their feet--their extensive vocabulary fails to make itself known in its trembling voice. Human language is...so difficult!

“...Mademoiselle.” The stranger’s eyes narrow, but the easygoing smile remains upon his lips. “That cadence with which you speak—it is reminiscent of the language of birds. Are you, perhaps, an animal given human form?”

Her flabbergasted expression confirms his suspicions. The young man breaks out into boisterous laughter and clapping.

“Fascinante~ I have a vested interest in wild life, you see!” he explains, circling the raven like a shark in the water. “I would like to observe more and more of you!”

“U-Um...I...I need to go...!”

But he has grabbed her arms by the elbows, roughly maneuvering them up and down. Her limbs flop around carelessly.

“Where are your wings, mon petit oiseau?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Surely you must be capable of advanced transformation magic in order to maintain your human form? Are you able to fly as you currently are? Will you not give me a demonstration?”

The barrage of questions, coupled with being grabbed, sets the bird into a panic.

“S-Stay awaaaaay!!” The raven screeches, wildly thrashing.

They manage to land a hit on the young man’s face, sending him stumbling backwards. The raven sprints as fast as her little legs can carry her, not caring who witnesses it.

“Mon petit oiseau!! Please return to me--I must witness it...! The beauty of your flight!” comes his pleading voice behind them, growing ever louder.

The raven dares to sneak a peak over their shoulder--and screams even louder. He’s dashing right after them at a breakneck pace, closing the distance little by little. His hood has flown off in all of the rush, his golden hair whipping across his face. Perhaps he would have been a prince in some fairy tale, if his eyes were not so feral and pulsating with perverted curiosity.

This is it, this is how I will die.

The raven wills itself to run faster--

--crashing straight into another student.

The raven feels themselves falling back, expecting the harshness of the ground, but instead, they are caught and righted at once.

“Oya, oya. Please, do mind where you are going, miss.”

This student, too, is wearing the ceremonial robes. Oh, and how tall he is. Skin like sea glass, wistful lips, and a handsome face framed by teal hair and a black lock--but his standout feature are his heterochromatic eyes, one verdant green and the other a deep gold, edged in violet makeup.

“Pretty...” the raven remarks, their voice trailing off.

“Pardon?” he quirks an eyebrow at the remark.

“Eyes.”

“Ah. I see--”

“Mon petit oiseau!”

Oh no. 

“P-Please help...!” The raven squeaks, ducking behind the tall student. They jab an accusatory finger at the fast-approaching blonde. “H-He is...he is scary!!”

The student regards them with the tilt of the head. “...I understand. Please, leave this to me.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur Mastermind...!” the blonde greets, having finally caught up. “The little bird you are guarding--kindly relinquish her to me, if you please!”

“Bird? Why, I do believe you are mistaken, Rook-san. She is a human through and through--a human that just so happens to be skilled in Animal Languages.”

“What?” The blonde--Rook?--frowns slightly. “Mon dieu, a human?”

“It is quite rude of you to make assumptions. See to it that you do not repeat such a careless mistake,” the tall student suggests. He smiles, but his tone has a bite to it. “You would not want Vil-san to learn of such a blunder, yes?”

“Ohoh. A fair point, Monsieur Mastermind. Cunning as always, I see.” Rook gives a light laugh and throws his hood up again, casting a shadow upon his face. “Very well, very well, I shall relent for today--my queen is expecting me.”

“I will see you at the ceremony, then?”

“Oui. Give Monsieur Kills for Thrills and Roi de Fort my regards~ And apologies for the trouble, mademoiselle!” Rook waves and disappears into a crowd of robed young men.

At last, the raven can breathe a sigh of relief. “Th-Thank you...erm. Mon...sure Mastermind?”

“Rook-san has a penchant for nicknames.” He chuckles into his hand. “I am Jade--Jade Leech. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, miss...?”

He glances at them expectantly, with those pretty eyes of his.

“U-Um...Uncle said...to wait until the ceremony for giving names.”

Jade’s eyes shift slightly as he takes in this new information.

“Ah, you must be the unusual student the headmaster warned us of. I presume you must have been on your way to the Mirror Chamber before Rook-san gave chase.”

“Y-Yes. Erm...but I do not know where to go.”

“Fufufu. It just so happens that I am on my way to the Mirror Chamber now. The opening ceremony is to start shortly.” Jade raises a hand, gesturing to the students around them. “All you need do is follow the others, like a school of fish in the ocean. However, if you are still feeling unsafe after your encounter with...Rook-san, I would be more than happy to escort you.”

“I-Is that...really okay?”

“It is no trouble at all.” He offers his hand and a reassuring smile. “It is only natural to lend aid to those in need, yes?”

And the raven, mesmerized by his eyes, accepts his hand--and they merge with the sea of robed students milling to the Mirror Chamber. Standing at the entrance is the headmaster himself, ushering young men in.

Crowley catches the raven’s gaze and beams--though his expression falls just as quickly once he registers who it is that towers over his niece. Jade notices, and releases the raven’s hand.

“...Jade Leech-kun.”

“Headmaster. Good day to you,” he greets with a small bow.

“Hmm.” Crowley’s beady yellow eyes stare right into Jade. “Thank you for delivering her to me. Now then--shoo. Join the remainder of Octavinelle.”

“As you wish.” Jade gives a small, polite wave before he heads inside.

The raven waves back shyly. Crowley tsks and whisks them away behind his feathered cloak. He mutters something under his breath about being too kind.

Within the Mirror Chamber, a certain octopus scolds Jade.

“Where have you been? It’s not like you to be nearly tardy.” Azul frowns, hands planted on his hips.

“Ehehehe~ Even I made it here before Jade today,” Floyd laughs, gnashing his teeth.

“My apologies. I was preoccupied with...networking,” Jade says with a slight bow.

“Well, it had better have been worth it,” Azul mutters under his breath. “We’ll need to be in the headmaster’s good graces if we wish to expand the Mostro Lou—“

“Ah-HEM! If I may have your attention please, everyone,” Crowley calls from the front of the Mirror Chamber.

Azul immediately snaps in attention—and Jade follows his gaze. Floyd, meanwhile, groans and rolls his eyes. Lame old crow.

“We have a special little guest joining us at Night Raven College starting this year! They are quite far from our usual demographic, so I ask that you be so very, very kind to them.” Crowley nods to the hooded figure hiding behind him. “Go on, then. Introduce yourself, my dear!”

He steps aside, exposing them to thousands of pairs of eyes. The raven shrinks back. Crowley sighs and gives them a slight nudge forward.

“A-Ah...u-um...I am...R-Raven. Raven Crowley. Uncle’s niece. P-Please...take good care of me.”

Murmurs fill the room. Some students are expressing shock that the headmaster even has relatives, others are questioning the enrollment of a female student at an all-boys school.

“Oya?” A chuckle escapes from Jade’s lips. He leans over and whispers to his dorm leader. “Azul, that is the one.”

“Is that so? Mm, this is highly unusual,” Azul notes, tucking a hand under his chin. “But...if she is related to Crowley-sensei, it would behoove us to charm her. She can put in a good word to the headmaster for Octavinelle.”

“Yes, she will be of great use to us in the future,” Jade agrees, his smile twisting into something...demented, jagged teeth on full display. “Then, shall I do the honors?”

“You really do think of everything, Jade. By all means, be my guest. See to it that the little bird is...fond of us, of you. Either works.”

“Fufufu. But of course--I live to serve.”

“Well, I’m bored and hungry” Floyd complains, interrupting the two. He slings his arms around his brother and Azul. “Let’s grab some grub after this booooring ceremony...!”

[magicrowiswritingstuff]

Part 2: “Dead Trickster” – Gabriel x female!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!) | Part 3 | ...

Summary: This is the second part of “Dead Trickster”! So it ties into its story line which now takes place roughly during Season 2/3. The Reader is sure that the trickster couldn’t have been defeated so easily. Even though nobody believes you, you decide to keep an eye out just in case. It seems for a good reason when strange occurrences start to happen around you.

Warning: swear words, violence/fighting mentioned, slight suggestive themes (if any)

Category: general rating

Words: about 4.000

Note: I’m so sorry for not posting anything and my general inactivity. I’m having a very rough time and trouble concentrating on writing. 2020 is an absolute shit year and I feel like I’m constantly having a mental break down for the last couple of days. Fun :) On a brighter note, I finally managed to finish this chapter and the third is already in the works. Let’s pray I can get my shit together.

Note 2: Also! We almost hit 100 Follower ... I really can’t believe this. Thank you all so much for enjoying the little pieces I managed to post. Now I feel even more bad for not being that active ... Should I do something if we hit the milestone? I feel like not many people are activly responding to my writing so I’m asking directly: Is there something you want me to write? Something I can focus on to stop my thoughts? Just let me know ...

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Part 2 “Dead Trickster” – Gabriel x fem!reader

It has been many months now, maybe about half a year, after Dean had killed the trickster in that school and even though you had been so sure about it then, you slowly doubted if he really was still alive. Nothing out of the ordinary happened since then. Maybe he really did die that day. Or he was really good at laying low. You had stopped actively looking for any signs and just concentrated on the current hunts with Sam and Dean because you noticed you would get very grumpy after staying awake nights on end, trying to find any signs that weren’t there.

At the moment you were stuck in some small town in another motel room with Sam and Dean sharing the one next to yours. Apparently, there was a ghost in town that forced people to kill themselves just like the ghost had. You had stayed behind in your room researching the towns history, trying to figure out who the ghost might be while Sam and Dean had drove to the latest killing scene. You weren’t really in the mood to leave the small room so you had volunteered to stay behind. You texted Dean the last bits of information before turning off your laptop, setting it down on the coffee table and walking to the small bathroom. You refreshed your face with cold water, it was too damn warm in this town. You had bought some ice cream -another reason why you stayed behind today, you wanted to eat it without worrying Dean would steal it- and you were more than looking forward to it. But when you opened the small fridge you found nothing but the empty packaging there. Furrowing your brows, you froze. “What the hell” you whispered, grabbed the packaging and threw it in the trash. So much for your ice cream. Had Dean found it after all? But how?

Your phone rang before you could think more about it. You looked at the name on the display. “Perfect timing” you laughed and accepted the call. “Hey, (Y/N). Quick question: Are you sure-“ Dean started but got interrupted by you. “Dean, did you eat my ice cream?” you asked and sat down on the small couch. “What?” Dean sounded genuinely confused. “The ice cream I hid in the motel fridge?” you pressed. “You had ice cream? And you were hiding it from me?!” So, it wasn’t Dean then. “Dean, give me Sam” you demanded, interrupting his playfully offended speech. “Alright, but I’ll remember this, (Y/N). I won’t ever share my fries with you again, this is treason.” You chuckled: “Yeah, yeah. I’ll remind you when I’m stealing them again.”

Then the line went silent for a few seconds before you could hear Sam’s confused voice. “(Y/N), what’s the matter?” “Did you eat my ice cream?” you came straight to the point. “Ehm, no. What ice cream?” Sam also sounded genuine. How could it not be one of them? You paused. How could anyone steal your ice cream when the only time you left your room since you bought them was when you had gone to the bathroom just now? Sweet-tooth … “Never mind” you slowly said and absentmindedly stood up from the small sofa. You rotated around your own axis, inspecting the whole motel room. “Call me if you need me there” you canceled the phone call after that, completely forgetting that Dean had called to ask you a question (but he seemed to have forgotten it too) and put your phone into your pocket. Just when you thought you would never find any prove …

“I know it was you, trickster” you spoke into the empty room, feeling only the slightest bit silly because of it. Tricksters were sweet-tooths and how should have anyone else stole your sweet snack right under your nose when you had been in the room all day. “I knew you weren’t dead” you said, not able to suppress the smirk stretching your lips slightly. You waited a few moments but nothing moved, no one spoke up. But you knew it was the only plausible option. And even if you wouldn’t catch him now, he would show up again. He was a trickster after all and he wanted to play. You just had to wait.

 _______________

  “So, where exactly is the supposed vampire nest? Not just in the middle of this town, right?” you asked Dean. He had got a phone call from a hunter earlier that day who had told him that a new vampire nest had settled down somewhere here. The older Winchester shook his head. “No, it’s in a barn a few miles from this city” he explained and left the car without another word. You looked at Sam who only shrugged his shoulders and also got up to follow his brother. You sighed, grabbed your backpack and were about to leave the car as well when you felt the ghost of a hand on your shoulder. Flinching you spun around. But there was no one there since you were in the backseat. Furrowing your brows, you hastily jumped out of the car, trying to shake your paranoia off. You were here for a vampire nest and not a ghost hunt. You must still be a little spooked by the last one. You had seen many ghosts in your hunter life but that one had been the most terrifying looking yet. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the images. “Why are we here then? And not searching for the barn?” you asked after you had closed the car door behind you, jogging after Sam and Dean. “I need something to eat” Dean explained. You laughed when you caught up with them. “I should have guessed.”

The three of you walked into the dinner Dean had been eyeing all the time. The establishment was rather full but luckily someone left his seat just when you were standing in the door. They brushed past you which made you look up at them, meeting their golden gaze. You froze, letting the small backpack fall from your hands and to the ground. Your eyes followed the sound and when you looked up … he was gone. You looked around but he was nowhere to be seen and the door leading outside was untouched, still closed and no bell sound signaling that someone had just left. But you hadn’t imagined this. No, it had been him. You were sure. You remembered those eyes. “(Y/N)?” You tore your gaze away from the windows and turned to face Sam who gestured you to sit down beside him. You grabbed your bag and forced your feet to move. “Please tell me you saw him” you begged when you had sat down and suppressed the shivers of your body by tensing up. “Who?” Dean asked, looking up from the menu he had snatched from Sam. “The trickster!” you whisper-shouted. Sam and Dean shared one glance before looking at you again. “I saw him, I swear. He just left!” “I think you’re still spooked by the last hunt. There weren’t any alien sightings for months now, (Y/N)” Dean chuckled, putting the menu back on the table. You threw him an angry glance. “No!” you huffed. “I know what I saw. I told you that he wasn’t dead!” “Order some food and relax, (Y/N)” the older Winchester pushed the menu out of Sam’s reach and over to you. “You’ve been on edge ever since we left that school.” You rolled your eyes, shoving the menu to Sam and put your head on your palm, looking out of the window. You opened your mouth, about to give Dean a piece of your mind when you paused. A wide grin flashed threw a crowd of people, honey colored eyes starring right at you and the only thing you were able to do was to stare right back with your mouth wide open. A few people walked by the window and when they were gone the brown-haired trickster had vanished once more. Pressing your lips into a thin line you moved away from the window, muttering angrily under your breath. “Bullshit.”

“Not so happy to see me? I thought you were keeping an eye out for me.”

You flinched, looking over your left shoulder but the only one near enough who could have said something was the waitress walking to your table. But that hadn’t been her voice, you knew that cheerful tone that had whispered in your ear. When you glanced at Sam and Dean, they seemed unbothered. They hadn’t heard a thing. Oh, so that was how he wanted to play? Making you lose your mind trying to convince Sam and Dean about his presence when they weren’t able to see and hear him. You bit your tongue. “Fuck you” you whispered under your breath. “What?” You turned around to face Sam and waved him off. “Nothing. Just tired.”

The vampire nest had been dealt with the next day. They hadn’t begun turning the people yet, so it was rather easy to get rid of them all. Now you were back on the backseat of Dean’s car with your arms crossed before your chest and looking bored out of the window. The three of you had been on the road for about three days again. “Found anything interesting yet?” you asked Sam and leaned forward, putting your arms on the back of his seat. He slightly turned around in his seat. “Not yet, but you can help me if you want?” You eagerly nodded, anything to keep your mind occupied. You grabbed the newspaper Sam had bought at a gas station and was now handing to you. You leaned back in your seat again.

“What about these three deaths? Only a few days apart and all in the same part of a town” you suggested but Sam shook his head. “Already checked that one. They all died differently. No ghostly activity anywhere near there, no vampire nests or werewolf packs. No witchcraft or anything else” Sam threw the papers he had been reading on the floor and grabbed another newspaper. “Just ordinary deaths.” You sighed and got back to reading. Nothing really caught your attention so you just read an article to not get bored again. You don’t even know what it was really about, only paying half attention to the words on the paper. That was until one sentence suddenly stopped. Wait, hadn’t there been an article on that page? You blinked. The whole side was white. You turned over a page and then another and another. The whole newspaper was white and empty now. Except for one sentence. “Having fun yet?”

Your mouth fell open and you let the papers fall to the ground. You didn’t even notice that you were mumbling something until Sam turned around in his seat to face you with one eyebrow raised in question. “Did you find something?” You looked up from the newspapers whose pages were now covered by that one sentence. Shaking your head, you swallowed hard. “No-o” you cleared your throat. “Nothing unusual.” The younger Winchester only nodded and turned back around. Your eyes wandered almost automatically back to the papers on the car floor.

“Having fun yet? Having fun yet? Having fun yet? Having fun yet? Having fun yet? Havin-“ The words seemed to blur in your mind, hugging your knees to your chest you sticked out your tongue.

“Oh, I’m starting to have fun, sugar.”

You flinched, looking over your shoulder but just like the last time there was no one there. Maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him so openly.

  _______________

  You weren’t having fun. Not at all.

The next prank he played on you made you shiver only looking back at it. For a good week almost every water bottle you opened would have a surprise for you. The most frequent was salt water but not limited to it.

The first time it happened you opened one and took a big sip (you had been running around all night because of a hunt) you immediately spit everything out, coughing for five minutes, leaving behind a huge mess in the impala. Dean had stepped on the breaks in an instant. With terrified faces, thinking the witch they had just killed had cursed you, they turned around to look at you. “It’s salt water!” you shrieked still coughing and handed Dean the bottle. He looked at it confused but took a sip. His eyes immediately darkened. “It’s regular, old water, (Y/N).” You shook your head in disbelieve and snatched the bottle back, warily taking another small sip. Your eyes widen in horror and confusion. “Tha-that’s not possible” you shook your head. “It was salty only seconds ago, I swear!” But Dean was right, it tasted like regular water again. The older Winchester looked at the water on the backseats and sprinkled on the front window and console before turning his gaze back to you. The death glare Dean had shot you made you shrink down in your seat (he made you thoroughly clean Baby the next day). Furious you looked at the bottle, while Dean sped up again, cursing the trickster under your breath until you saw something strange written on the label. “You’re the salt to my sugar, honey.” You cringed, opened the car window next to you and threw the bottle out while Baby was driving on full speed down the empty highway. You ignored the irritated glances from Sam and Dean.

This prank repeated over and over again though. Sometimes it was salt water, other times it was the most disgusting liquid you didn’t even dare to describe because you didn’t want to think about what might have been in it. Rarely it was normal water. You thought you were going insane because whenever you made the Winchesters try it, the water was completely normal again. You grew more frustrated the more it happened. On top of that the golden-eyed trickster had the audacity to show his face to you on more than one occasion. You could always see only a glint of him whenever you were in a town. Sometimes he even brushed past you but whenever you would turn around, he was already gone. And Sam and Dean were still unable to see him. It annoyed your greatly. You cursed yourself for calling him out for his illusion back in that school. Why hadn’t you just shut your mouth and waited for something to happen in silence? You could have kept an eye out for him without announcing it to him but oh no, you just had to make it obvious.

“Oh, I’m starting to have fun, sugar.”

You groaned. His words still echoing in your mind after weeks of pranks and annoyances. You weren’t having fun. You could barely concentrate on the hunts you were on anymore. Just like the one you were on now. Sam had gone into a library, searching for information about the old alleged haunted house of the city, while Dean and you questioned three teenagers who were the last ones to step a foot into the house. “I swear I saw something take Beth down the stairs!” a blond boy said, looking at his friends for reassurance. A dark-haired girl nodded: “I saw it, too.”

“What exactly did you see? A man?” you asked, still playing your FBI role. “A ghost!” the boy yelped. “A … ghost?” you slowly asked and looked at Dean knowingly. Normally you couldn’t really trust confessions about a ghost-sighting because there was always the change that it was just a shadow or their imagination filling up the gaps but since a girl had vanished two days ago after going into the house with her friends you had to believe them just for her sake. “Yes! Please, you have to believe me” the boy begged. “I saw it drag her down the stairs to the basement but-“ “But when we went down to look for her there was nothing in there” a dark-haired boy interrupted. “The room was empty!” “So, where exactly is that ‘haunted’ house?” Dean asked, sounding unconvinced by their statements. The girl of the group stood up from the bench she was sitting on and pointed down a street branching off from the market place you were at, at the moment. “Down there, the very last house.” You nodded and smiled sympathetically. “Thank you, when you remember anything else just call me, alright?” You handed them your number and then turned to Dean who was already walking back to his car with his phone in his hand, probably calling Sam. You were following him, passing through a crowd of people when you heard the voice again. “They can get your number, so what about me, sugar?”

You spun around to see chestnut-colored hair vanishing around the corner of a house. Without thinking you took one step in that direction but were stopped by a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face Dean. “What are you doing? We have to get to the haunted house.” You freed yourself from Dean’s light grip and nodded. “I just-“ you looked back at the corner the trickster vanished behind. He was probably long gone already. Sighing you turned and walked past Dean and to the car. “Never mind, let’s go. We need to get to the girl.”

You and Dean managed to distract the ghost while Sam dug up its body in the house’s backyard (the ghost was already so old that when the person had died his relatives just buried him there). Or rather, Dean fought against the ghost while you searched for the entrance to a secret room in the basement Sam had read about in the library. If the girl was still alive, she should be in there. However, searching for it in the darkness of the basement -the lights were broken down there and the ghost had flung you around the room and you must have lost your flashlight at some point- was hard. You let out a frustrated growl as you paused and held your head between your hands. “Where is the most plausible place to hid the entrance?”

“Need some help, sugar?”

You jumped away from the voice with a yelp, hitting the shelve to your right with your hip. A pained groan left your lips as you bend over, rubbing the sore spot that would definitely bruise. When you looked up you met the honey-colored eyes of the trickster, illuminated by your flashlight he held in his hand. “What are you doing here?” you asked confused, completely forgetting your frustrations with him. “Giving you a hint” the trickster said and walked past you to the desk that was standing next to the shelve you had hit. Taking a step back you tried to get more distance between you and him. “Why?” In the small light of your flashlight you saw the trickster roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath. “Because Dean is lying unconscious on the floor upstairs, Sam isn’t done playing ‘Where’s the pirate’s treasure?’ with a dead body and the ghost will be here soon to get his next play buddy.” “Who?” you asked, eyeing the trickster suspiciously. The brown-haired man turned around to face you. “You of course, stupid!” Your eyes widen and your cheeks grew hot as you crossed your arms before your chest. Just when you were about to give him a piece of your mind you heard the door to the basement open and the heavy steps of the ghost. “Shit” you mumbled and locked eyes with the trickster. “What now?” The trickster grinned at you and snapped his fingers, making the table move away from the wall and revealing a secret wooden door, barley large enough for you to kneel down and crawl through. There was no one there once again when you turned to look for the trickster, only your flashlight was lying on the floor. But you had no time left to curse him now, so you just grabbed your light and pried the door open, crawling through. On the other side you saw the girl sitting on a chair, her body slumped over on the table in front of her. You rushed to her and took her pulse, begging to not have arrived too late. There it was, faint but present. She was still alive. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and heaved the girl from the chair. You had to get her out of here but how? Panicking you looked to the hidden door. The ghost would be here any second and there was no other exit. You looked around, trying to find a sign, a weapon or exit, anything. But the only thing your eyes found in the dim light was the trickster standing next to you. Biting your tongue, you tried to stifle the yelp that would have escaped you other ways. “Need a lift?” Before you could answer he grabbed your arm. And after a few blinks you realized that you were standing on the porch of the haunted house with the girl still in your arms and the trickster next to you. Furrowing your brows, you looked at him questioningly. But when you opened your mouth, he only winked at you and then disappeared. For a few seconds you just stared at the spot he had been standing on before shaking your head. You carried the girl to the car and laid her down on the back seat, taking her pulse once more to be sure that everything was still fine. Then you spun around and ran into the garden, helping Sam with the body.

Half an hour later you were standing in front of the city’s hospital, Sam and Dean beside you. You had burned the ghost and then drove there. The girl was immediately brought in for examinations but you were reassured that she was just very dehydrated and would be fine in a few days, at least physically. Now you stood there, leaning against the wall and just took a long, deep breath. “How did you get out of there with her?” Dean questioned after a while. You looked up at him and Sam, asking yourself if you should tell them the truth. But would they even believe you if you told them that the trickster had helped you? You didn’t even really believe it yourself and you were the only one knowing that he was still alive. “I dragged her up the stairs and laid her down in the car” you lied instead. Maybe you should get at the bottom of this first before you put the trickster back on Dean and Sam’s radar. “You didn’t run into the ghost?” the older brother pressed. You shook your head. “Nope, he must have been busy throwing you around” you joked, hoping it would lead to the questions being dropped. Why were you covering for the trickster? Why were you lying? You didn’t want Sam and Dean to get hurt because of you, you told yourself and nodded to reassure yourself. You had to figure out what his plan for you was before you might bring Sam and Dean in even more danger. You let your eyes wander over the street with a sigh only to catch a glimpse of chestnut-colored hair that disappeared immediately. You gulped and forced a smile on your lips as you shifted your attention back to the two brothers. “Let’s just go and find somewhere to sleep, alright?” You wanted to leave this city as fast as possible.

        To be continued: Part 3 is here!

_________________________________

[thewritingof-therose]

Hi! Last week, with the publishing of the 20th chapter of Hasard, I reached the 100 kudos on the fic, so to celebrate it, here’s some kind of bonus chapter where I talk a little about the conception of the story, along with comments about each chapters. 

Enjoy!

----

So… 20 chapters and 100 kudos already. To be honest, by the time I started imagining this story, I wasn’t really expecting to be able to celebrate that milestone of kudo on a single fic and even if I already celebrated the 2000 kudos in general this year, if we make a quick calcul based on the numbers of kudos and all the fics I’ve published, at the time I’m writing those words, it’s the same that if each one of my fic had only 20 kudos… So yeah, finally reaching the hundred on a single one makes me so happy \o/

Anyway, here’s some trivia and fun facts about Hasard and the first twenty chapters of the story.

First of all, some history:

I had the idea for Hasard in May 2018 as I was watching the tv show Lucifer (I am not up to date with it, please don’t try to spoil me this show ^^’) and I imagined one scene that just… shaped the entire story and it took me less than a few hours to know that I would write it. Even if I wasn’t sure how long it would be and that there had been some changes. And no, I won’t tell what scene kickstarted it all because she still has to come and it could be quite a huge spoiler. 

Following it, my brain quickly went into developing the full story and a few things changed. On the top of my head, I can say that Maiev was meant to be more on her own, almost a complete independent Hunter that would have also been resented by the other Hunters, along with a way more black and white view of the demons. She was meant to be more aggressive against all demons and really thinking that they all deserved to die, but I softened that side of her as I shifted the world building with the presence of hybrids. 

At first, the hybrids were meant to be a really rare kind and I wanted to keep that status for a few select characters because it could have brought some really good story for them. Then, as I kept working on the worldbuilding, I came to the idea that actually, hybrids were extremely common, but at the same time, the demon’s presence was still a secret from most of the world because most hybrids started centuries ago and their blood and physical attributions were weakening the more they were reproducing. So, about 80% of the world is made of hybrids of all kinds of generation (who is my way of scaling the demonic influence on their life) and the 20% left is shared with the full demons and full humans. 

Full demons are simply people who don't have a single drop of human blood in them. Usually, they are born from two other full demon parents or they just appeared like that (that’s the mytho). They are extremely powerful and good magic users, but now, they are rare. It was easier to be a full demon millenia ago when they ruled over the world and the few that are left in the current world of Hasard, survived either by hiding really well, manipulating their way to stay alive, or simply because they accepted to work with the humans and they went on. 

My best example of a full demon is Velen. 

The full humans, are the humans who either had never gotten a single drop of demon’s blood in their bloodlines, either they purged the bloodline after making sure that there had been at least 10 generations since the last time a hybrid was born (technically, every child following it would be considered as an hybrid, but the other parent would be a full human to weaken the demon’s blood which each new generation). Full humans are rarer than full demons and they tend to be bad news as almost all of them are associated with the Priesthood (who’ll get some more explanation later.)

I haven’t presented yet one of them to give an example, but one is ready to show up in the Second arc of the story. Won’t say who to not spoil the surprise x)

As for hybrids, there are two kinds. The one born from a demon and a human, and or hybrids (two hybrids will keep creating hybrids and technically, as long as one of the parents has human blood, the bloodline will stay a hybrid one). And the second one hadn’t been introduced yet. We have characters that are that kind, but it’s some worldbuilding elements that will show up later and so, I'll keep it to myself for now. Feel free to theorize though! And usually, most hybrids will simply call themselves demons instead of showing signs of weaknesses by not being a full one.

For the title of the story, it had been extremely hard for me to find one. Ever since I started preparing everything, it had a codename and it was “Modern AU” and it stayed like that until the very minute of the publishing of the first chapter. I was already going towards “Le Hasard Fait Bien Les Choses” but I was bothered because it was French, and no matter what, I couldn’t find a good English idiom that would have all the nuances of the French one. The only thing that comes close to it would be “Fate is a funny thing” and yet, I’m not entirely satisfied with it. So, after a long debate with myself and help from other people, I came to the conclusion that I had to keep the French title if I wanted to be happy with it. 

It might not help much to get people interested, and I’m considering adding “Fate is a Funny Thing” after it but I’m debating it.

I think that's already a lot, so let's move to the trivia per chapters:

A Muffled Shout In The Night

Oh boy, first chapter! I was so excited to finally start the story but I was also really stressed. I tried to give away a quick summary of how the universe was working, along with my two main characters + showing up the first supportive characters towards Maiev. Trying to present all the cast (so adding Illidari and more about Illidan) right in that chapter wouldn't have really worked so, instead, I went to show that a more "Legion-y" timeline could be expected thanks to Khadgar and Velen's presence in the chapter. 

I kinda hope that I succeeded to already show Maiev's obsession towards the Betrayer through her first lines.

Though I will be one hundred percent honest with you. The end of the chapter with Illidan running away, don't expect much from that interaction. I kind of always forget about it unless I'm reading back the chapter… I only needed a reason for them to stop fighting and the chapter to carry on.

But who knows, maybe I'll tie it to something one day.

Two Black Coffees And A Meeting, Please

When writing it, I always knew that Drelanim was on the other side of the call (or at least another Hunter) but as I read the moment a few times, I realized that I could have gone for a completely different way. One that would have probably surprised everyone.

But yeah, in another universe, it's Illidan who calls Maiev because he's in front of her place as they decided to meet for breakfast there. It would have been quite nice and unexpected for the story, especially that Illidan would have gotten right away the reveal that Maiev was actually the Warden as she would have complained about the wounds of the night. 

In the end, I went on with my first idea and made them meet for good in the chapter.

And, like with the first chapter… the "current problem" that he talks about to Kor'vas went nowhere… I'll more than probably get him to acknowledge some uninteresting side story for it at some point.

Memories Of A Rainy Day That Will Never Be Forgotten

For that one, one word: Ouch.

By the time I started to write this chapter, I was also preparing the Advent Calendar of 2019 and I had decided on telling Naisha's story, and I had to realize that I still had to foreshadow some elements from it to make it work. Of course, the title is fully referencing the day she died and the demon that Maiev killed right at the beginning of the chapter was similar to Naisha, putting Maiev in a stabbing mood. And it led us to another necessary addition for the Calendar's chapter: Malfurion.

(I'm also wondering how many people guessed right away that Malfurion was the one Illidan was calling…)

Brother, My Brother, Tell Me What We're Fighting For? 

Even if Malfurion had more of a cameo than anything in the Calendar's story, I felt the need to introduce him to put the bases of the twins' relationship. I always knew that he was a doctor and that he was mostly helping Illidan when he was getting in trouble, and as their backstory is different from WoW and that they are both demons, I didn't want to go on the canon path for them. 

I cannot tell much about it because we'll get fast to their backstory (Second arc) but here, Illidan and Malfurion mostly grew up in a world where it was them against the rest of the world. They were born during the glorious days when demons ruled the world and they saw it change through the millennia that followed. After everything, they would be devastated to lose the other and suddenly be the only one left. This is why they are way closer than they could ever be in canon (and also Tyrande isn't part of their backstory so it helped them keep a good relationship). Sometimes, they part ways for a few decades. Malfurion goes back to medical school somewhere and makes sure that he's up to date for it, or Illidan just moves with his clan to experience new things. But they stay in contact and always come back in proximity of one another.

The end of the chapter was my obligatory "shock reveal/cliffhangers" before a break. But well, I wanted to keep the Legion's existence in my sleeve for a little longer, but I realized that it would allow me to make them into a concrete threat as the story will progress + allowing Illidan and, mostly, the Illidari to be a little more presents into the story.

Actually, the chapter's name comes from a song from the occidental version of the first Pokemon movie. It's a line from the song that plays when the Pokemon and their clone fights, and i used it mostly for the brother's mentions and because it would totally be a thing said by one of the twins in their past…

A Flower Arrangement Made With Your Face In Mind

At that time, I wanted to make a chapter to develop a little more the supporting characters of the cast, and as I was taking back the writing of the fic after a four or five months break, I thought it would be nice. 

So, we got a little side dish of Illidari for it and that’s pretty much the only chapter (until now) where Illidan or Maiev barely appears in it. Yet, I threw some worldbuilding and foreshadowing in it and I still like it, so it isn’t really a filler.

I’ll probably do more chapters like that in the future, but I’ll see with the pacing of the story.

Willingly Accepting Your Death Isn't As Easy As I Thought

I don’t have much to say about this chapter. I still really like it and especially Maiev and Velen’s interaction. 

Along with showing that we were far from a potential romantic relationship, at least on Maiev’s side x)

A Laugh That Will Echo Through The Ages

Oh my God, that chapter! I could probably talk about it for hours but we would quickly reach the spoiler territory so I’ll see what I can tell without shooting myself in the foot.

I loved giving Khadgar some more identity and I like his relationship with Maiev. In the story, they are around 10 years apart, with Khadgar being the youngest. He’s like an honorary younger brother to every Hunter and even if Maiev won’t admit it, she’s kinda thinking the same. 

If he had been in the spotlight for this chapter, it was actually because I was thinking of writing his backstory for the Calendar of 2020 but in the end, I scrapped the idea and wrote something else. But It’ll happen at some point.

You Were In My Dream Last Night, And I Found You That Morning

A simple and nice chapter to calm down from the action heavy that was the precedent. I do throw some crumbs of foreshadowing and backstory, mostly for Maiev, but we will have to wait quite some time for the full one. Even if to be honest, before I release it fully, there will probably be some people that will stitch everything from my crumbs.

Illidan’s dreams are meant to be a plot point all through the story, and I decided to start them with this chapter. And of course, we can see that it’s the first chapter where Illidan, even if he isn’t conscious of it, starts to like Maiev more than he should have at that point.

A Red Dress And Heels To Hide The Knife In Plainsight

I loved writing that one. Showing that Maiev had more hobbies than hunting demons, along with showing how you had to act to get her to do things that she would refuse to do otherwise. Most of the time, if Sira gently asks if she wants to go do some shopping, Maiev always has something else to do. Not that she hates shopping, just that she thinks there’s better things to do. 

I could probably go more about Worgens and their existence, but it would spoil some part of the story :/ 

And honestly, I had an alternate version of this chapter where Illidan saw Maiev and Sira hurrying in the streets, followed them and he would have eavesdropped on the conversation about him. It was obviously bad because it was confirming that Maiev was at least a Hunter (which he won’t know until a while by that time) and it would have been totally an excuse for smut x)

A Warning Falling In Deaf Ears

With this chapter, I’ve been working on mixing the idea of chapters 5 (to concentrate on rest of the cast) with more of the main story. Like that, I show that there’s more than Illidan and Maiev in this universe, but at the same time, I’m still progressing their story by sharing the chapter between the two. I really liked writing Kayn like that and I think that one of my favorite things to write in this story, it’s Illidan and Malfurion interacting.

A Touch So Familiar, Yet So Strangely Threatening

I remember writing that chapter and suddenly realizing that it was going to be longer than the precedent, and i thought for a moment that I had to cut it in half, but I couldn’t find a satisfying way to do it, and it would have fucked up my outline, so I just carried on with it until I had told everything that I had to. 

With that chapter, I’m trying to show that Maiev can be really crazy when it comes to the Betrayer and his followers, but I can assure that she wouldn’t wound any of the Hunters, even if they cannot really be sure about it. And the little dialogue with the B-word made me laugh and yes, Maiev already called the Betrayer a bitch to his face. In 13 years, it would have been weird that she didn’t think of it at least once.

For the rest of the chapter, I just wanted to show that Maiev and Illidan were becoming comfortable with each other + setting up a reason for her to be worried about Illidan to show him her good side.

Screaming Under The Full Moon Won't Change Your Fate

The one thing I keep from this chapter, is that I can’t wait to dive more into Velen and Maiev's relationship.

Otherwise, yeah, if Illidan were to go into a fight only wanting to use magic, he could kill Maiev without breaking a sweat. But he likes the challenge and feels like it wouldn’t be satisfying to annihilate her with just a spell, so he’s fighting blade against blades, unless Maiev is really close to kill him.

A Fateful Call That Only You Can Be Blamed For

I have nothing much to say about it. It was one chapter that I really wanted to write and publish, because it’s the one where Illidan just let his guard down around Maiev for good, and now that he won’t try to trap her into admitting that she is the Warden, it allows him to see Maiev in another light.

That anyone can guess what it is.

Oh yeah, just that I threw some good crumbs of the fact that Illidan is a self-loathing addict in my fics and that it’s one of the reasons he falls so hard for Maiev after this chapter. But it’ll be a good talk for either another chapter, or later.

Going Separate Ways For A Night But Not The Life

Nothing to say, it was a transitional chapter to show that Illidan really believes that Maiev isn’t the Warden, and that there’s more than the fight to them.

Stab Me Once, Shame On You. Stab Me More Than Twice...

A fun little chapter. Velen is more modern than most people can believe and once again, I like writing about the interactions between Illidan and Malfurion. Of course, if you go back to read this one after chapter 20, you might see that I already knew how it was going to happen from this chapter, as the 20th got his title in this one.

I just hope that people read the story from the Advent Calendar 2020 to know what happened in the middle of it.

And From There, Fate Laughed At Them

I could talk for hours about Cordana in my AU. I just love what I’m going to do with her characters and I hope that my readers will like it too. 

But to give some crumbs, Maiev and Cordana have been best friends since high school and she’s the first long-time friend that Maiev had made in her life and thanks to Cordana, she met with Sira and the group, but most importantly Velen. Cordana is a hybrid of sixth generation, so her demonic attributes are almost non-existent, but she kept some supernatural ability from her legacy. She knew from a very young age that she wanted to hunt demons and protect people, and met with Velen early to prepare her future job. Once she discovered that Maiev had some natural abilities to hunt demons, she saw them as the future “Best Best Friend and Hunters” and convinced Maiev to give a go to the hunt. She was forced to move out in another city but she kept contact with Maiev and the rest of the group. In terms of strength, abilities and hunting score, she is right behind Maiev.

Otherwise, I will add that I had a lot of fun writing the conversation between them about Illidan and how he would be better than the Betrayer *winkwink*.

I didn’t make it clear in that chapter and it won’t be important, but Khadgar has a crush on Cordana.

Cordana meant well with the message, and even if in real life, I would condone such action, here, I needed it to move things around because yes, neither Illidan nor Maiev would make the first step if it wasn’t for Cordana.

During the fight, at the beginning of the scene, Illidan totally complimented the Warden on her abilities but don’t try to make him admit it.

Last thing: my nickname is Fate. I’m the one laughing.

Games, Games, All Is Games

I don’t really have anything to say about this chapter.

Sometimes, Cowardice Allows The Survival Of The Smartest

To be perfectly honest, I regret how I handled Cordana’s week in the story because I’ve barely done anything with her but I can explain where the problem is. I knew that I wanted Illidan to discover the warden’s identity on chapter 20, and I planned all my updates around that one fact, but when it came to the outline, I wasn’t sure what to tell between the chapter 13 and 20 to reach that point and thanks to the Calendar, I moved things around that one and I ended up having the idea of making Cordana appears (She should have come in person in the story much, much later). And as I needed chapters 18 and 19 to build up to the reveal, I ended up completely stuck and making her appearance too fast and if it wasn’t for the message, she would have been useless to the story. But I realized it too late and I couldn’t rework my outline in time.

But well, i’ll give her a better mini-arc in the second arc of the story to atone for it.

Otherwise, I hope that the feel of the countdown to the reveal starting by the end of the chapter had been caught by some people x) It’s obvious to me, but well, i’m the writer.

Step By Step, Tick Tock Said The Clock

Just a build up chapter for the 20th. Even if I really like it and that I’m preparing the ground for future plotlines but I’ll let you guess which one it could be x) 

I know I haven’t make it clear in the chapter, but Malfurion knew that Illidan was lying when he pretended that his problem was the Warden “may-be-may-be-not-a-hybrid/demon” but as he also know that his brother is a “stubborn motherfucker” he let it slid. 

And yes, somewhere in my mind, there’s an alternate universe where Maiev accepted Illidan’s invitation and that they would spend the evening at her place. Without a reveal first.

Any Last Wish?

I don’t really have something to add to this chapter. I succeeded to write it just as I wanted.

I just had a long debate with myself as to how I wanted it to end, as I had the choice between cutting it right as Illidan is saved by the Warden (maybe not revealing her identity before the next chapter, or it would have been the last line) or just as I did, by them reaching her place first. I chose the latter because I want Chapter 21 to start with a really specific scene and I thought that it was better than a cheap cliffhanger. 

The last thing I'll add, is that for the story to go well, I had to make Illidan be the first to be aware of the identity of the other, mostly because he can be the one to change his mind more easily about wanting to kill the Warden. If it had been Maiev discovering that Illidan was the Betrayer at this moment of the story, he would have died.

And now, because I'm not done yet, here’s some info about the bonus chapters that were published independently from the main story!

AC Day 8: A Morning

First calendar, in 2018, and I already knew that I was going to write Hasard. It had no name by this time, but I had written that small scene to try out a few things and see how it’ll work.

There’s a really high chance that I end up rewriting it for the main story, but I think that a few elements will change. We’ll see.

AC19 Day 24: Hasard: Naisha

Probably the worst (in terms of feels) chapter of the story yet.

Naisha is probably the character who had a story and fate the closest to canon and I wanted to keep it like that, as it allowed to shape even more the hate between the Warden and the Betrayer. Honestly, she wasn’t deserving of a death like that, especially that if the Betrayer hadn’t intervened that day by trying to kill Maiev, Naisha would have survived.

Actually, in any other universes/storylines possible, she would have survived. Unfortunately for her, she fell right into the feud and became a victim of it.

At this point of the story, Illidan isn’t even completely aware of what happened that day, and he has no idea who Naisha was. All that he knows is that he thought to have killed the Warden, only to find her, even more angry in the following week. He just knows that he had killed the wrong person, but he had no idea who. Maiev herself doesn’t know for sure that it was the Betrayer the culprit, as she couldn’t see clearly in the rain.

Of course, it’ll end up being brought up in the story :)

AC20 Day 8: Hasard: Malfurion’s Hellish Day

It should have been Khadgar's backstory actually for that Calendar. But even if I have a good idea about it, I realized that I wasn’t completely inspired and that I was missing a few details to be able to write it. So, in the end, I went desperately after another idea and thanks to Melowen, I think, she got me on the idea of writing about Malfurion.

In the end, this chapter, meant to be a funny one with Illidan and Maiev forced to be in the same place for the same job, with Malfurion, aware that it would be a catastrophe to let them discover the truth, ended up shaping the last chapters currently published.

And if you are wondering, no, Illidan wasn’t trying to trick his brother in giving him the secret identity of Maiev. He was just trying to get his brother approbation about the woman he was starting to crush on.

The line: ‘“Yeah, everyone tells me that I look like a famous actor,” Malfurion faked a chuckle, glancing at the woman.’ is a reference to my Bodyguard AU where Illidan is an actor. 

Alright, that’s all for the trivia! Thanks for reading this bonus chapter, and the main story until now, and I hope you’ll keep enjoying reading Hasard!

Rose

[unseeliefaelass]

Darksiders: Origins

Chapter 4: Growing Up Fast

Ale worked extra hard to aid in the growth of the infants. The others grew into toddlers within months, and Ale of course wanted to let them explore the world more at this time. Absalom being ever loyal however, asked Lilith about the matter. She agreed upon it, but only so that she didn't have to teach them the basics.

Lilith did give one condition though, "Ale will not teach them to walk or speak. I'll only entrust this important task to you. As their growth is becoming faster each day, I'll need to prepare for when they're big enough for training to begin."

"Of course Mother, but..when will they be 'big enough' as you say?", Absalom inquired.

"Don't worry my child, time is moving fast for them and us. They will be ready soon. Though admittedly I'm surprised the littlest one is still alive. Much more that you keep trying despite the much slower progress he's making."

Absalom stood up from his seat, "Ale has said to keep up faith in him. It's hard sure, but I have seen progress. That's good enough reason to keep trying for now."

Lilith snickered, "Ehehmhmhmhmhm. Be at ease now, I could never cause you grief."

Nodding, Absalom headed away to see how Ale was managing things. She already had Menahem out for the day and was trying to encourage him to crawl around. He was mainly interested in the Limts sniffing at him though.

Absalom nearly pulled out his axe upon seeing them before Ale raised a gentle hand, "Steady now. These Limts won't hurt him. They're just little rodents is all, besides there's no dragon crystals around for them to eat and go feral over."

"What?"

"Oh nothing. Just know Menahem is safe and fine. I've been trying to teach him to crawl, but he's been wanting to say hi to the Limts." Ale assured him.

Absalom looked down at the diminutive creatures, "Very...fluffy. Though, why are they here?"

"My kin and I make our clothes from their fur. To obtain it we keep domestic groups and sheer them when it's appropriate. Their fur grows back quickly too, so there's nothing for them to worry about in the cold climate here."

"Uhm...well...I see. May I try coaxing him to crawl?"

"Of course. Just bare in mind he's a little slow to respond. Wondering if maybe it's a sensory overload." Ale tells him.

"Well..we'll just have to work on that then."

Absalom then crouched down and tried getting Menahem's attention. Snapping his fingers when speaking didn't work much. Ale cocked her head at his impatience but let him keep trying as best he could. Eventually he waved his hand in front of Menahem's face. Finally the child looked toward his older brother curiously. After a nervous few moments Menahem finally slowly made his way to Absalom. Crawling slowly but steadily as he moved forward.

Absalom scooped him up once he finally made it to his hands, "There we are, not so hard now is it?"

Menahem only cooed in response before yawning. Absalom just shrugged and handed him to Ale. She giggled, then stood up to return Menahem to his pod to sleep. From there she worked on getting his pod and the others into tip top shape. Absalom helped where he could, having been taught to by Ale.

Once Menahem was put into his pod though, Absalom warned Ale, "Be careful how long you keep them out for. She is..watching very closely you know."

"I know, but I truly feel it's been helping. At least with Menahem anyway. I'll admit I'm a little excited about teaching him things like walking."

"Actually Ale....Lilith has asked me to handle teaching them to walk and talk. She doesn't want you involved in that process."

Ale's eyes quickly widened in shock before they settled just as fast. Ale knew Lilith already didn't like her much. Her spending all this time around the little ones likely wasn't helping things either. Whilst she could understand Lilith's reasons and that Absalom would likely do fine enough, she was still a bit upset. Her ears barely drooping as Ale fought to force them to stay perked as she gave the same smile she always had, "I see...well I'll still attend to my duties as needed. Even if I'll be missing out on an important milestone. But I understand Lilith's...concerns, and thus I shall abide by her wishes. I was commissioned after all, and as the provider of service I'd best do as was promised."

Absalom was certain she was hiding something, but couldn't be sure. He ultimately chose to speak to Llildan about it. The old rabbit only sighed heavily upon being informed of the situation. Approaching Ale later that day whilst she was caring for the Limts outside. Feeding and grooming them all for their excess fluff. She didn't trim them this time, only brushed them thoroughly.

She was on the final Limt as Llildan came up, "I warned you to not look too useful."

"And I have abided by that much. Lilith just isn't fond of me, though that is putting it lightly I'm sure."

Llildan's eyes narrowed, their red glow intensifying a slight, "I've no doubt she'll kill you one day if you keep going above and beyond as you are now."

Ale's eyes glanced his way, "I'm remaining alert."

"Not nearly enough girl. Not if she's continued to notice you and is simmering over it. I'm serious Ale, you're overdoing it. And you're really REALLY pushing your luck."

"I'll be fine. I'm aware she doesn't want me teaching them to talk or walk, probably other basics too. And I intend to follow her wishes. I just know the smallest one needs the most attention as of this time. Hence why I bring him out often, to ensure he's doing well and growing as best he can. Is that truly so wrong if I have proof it's helped him?"

"Atari I beg you please, reconsider this."

"Don't worry Ceiser, I'll be as mindful as possible. That said I still have a task at hand." Ale expressed as she let the little critter on her lap down.

Llildan sighed as she walked away, but ultimately returned to his own work at his main console inside. He tried working without worry, but overtime things became overwhelming. His hand instinctively moved for the dial on his head, but paused halfway in hesitation. The hand shook as he tried to force things, but in the end gave up. After a moment of quiet, yet heavy breathing; Llildan glanced at a hole on the console's rim. It was shaped as a crystal, and he knew for what crystal specifically. Sighing under his breath, he looked throughout the room before finding it. A plain, clear crystal with not a single chip or imperfection upon it. He held it to his chest for but a moment before seemingly reconsidering his current choice. Yet again he hesitated in placing it back down, but his heart won once more. He brought the crystal to the hole and placed it carefully within. Upon that placement, the console whirred to life before displaying a projection of his memories. This crystal in particular holding the ones of his wife, Shel and Ale as a little girl. He watched each image and passing memory silently, as what emotions he seemingly had left began flooding in. Llildan didn't know when the tears had started, but was unamused at finally noticing them. His hand once again went to his dial, stopping just short of it.

This time Llildan whispered to himself as he saw Shel's face appear in the final memory he had of her, "I often wonder moya lyubov', if perhaps she grew up too quickly...like you had to. I can only hope...that she doesn't meet the same end as you too."

With that he turned the dial a slight bit clockwise. Upon doing so, the tears that had been flowing so freely ceased just as quickly as they seemingly came. At least from Llildan's perspective on the matter. He then heard someone coming, and grabbed a towel to appear as though he was wiping sweat away instead of tears. Almost furiously rubbing them away before grabbing a bottle of vodka. He about poured himself a glass, but decided not to. Instead popping it's cork and drinking it straight. Though he did also think to turn off the crystal's projection. Just in time too, as Lilith came into the room.

"My my, there a special occasion? Or are you just in desperate need of a distraction?"

Llildan actually gave off a slight growl, "I just like it's taste, and it's hardness."

Lilith propped herself beside him against the counter, "Ah yes. The cold, chilling bite as it travels down the throat. The near pure and perfect alcoholic aftertaste after the smooth and creamy texture soothes the chill. Hitting you with a mix of flavors depending on the make and brand. Definitely among my favorite alcohols, though I've always...always felt it needed more than being drank straight."

Llildan ignored Lilith as much as possible. For with each word she began letting more of her true nature arise. The lustful, sex addicted freak of a succubus that would kill you either before, during, or after. All depending on her mood and whether or not she favored you as a 'toy'. He'd heard all the stories, he knew full well what she wanted right now. Her body language, her tone, even the blatant yet somehow still tasteful removal of things like a strap here, or her belt there. He turned the dial again, if only to ensure his emotional response was deadened enough to escape the dreaded musk. The stories of how it brought just about all men to her beck and call was enough to warrant the dial being moved again in his opinion.

He then looked at the bottle in his hand again before just putting it down a bit forcefully, "I've had enough."

"Oh? But you've only just started on the bottle. Imagine what it'll be like once you've finally drank it dry." Lilith complained with a very faint pout.

"It already is dry for me, perhaps it was too dry to begin with anyway. If you want a 'drinking' partner, go pester someone else. I've more important matters to attend to, not to mention a need for a rest."

Lilith hanged her head backward in annoyance, "Uuuugh, no wonder it tasted too dry. You're just as dry down there I'll bet."

Llildan shook his head, "Try harder Demonness, I know better than to lose my nerve so easily."

He then tightened his grip on the crystal before leaving the room in silence. Lilith just drank the bottle's remnants, of which there was plenty, in a mix of barely contained fury and sexual frustration. Growling and muttering to herself in the now darkened room.