#//i might add more muses but for now it's gonna be just these 6
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New Muses Alert!!
The new year calls for new muses! Here are a few muses that I think of adding to my muse list. For now, they will only be test muses until I decide wether to keep them or not. Do let me know if you find interest in any of of them ^^
Gwon Haneul, (fc: Yeo H.wanwoong), he/they, gay, a witch (has a human verse too) & a spy. If I am gonna give Nao a spy verse, then I am gonna give them someone to work with too bc I can. Haneul used to work alone, he preferred it that way, but after encountering the unfortunate situation Nao was in with their ex. Nao was a spy too, but thing took a wrong turn after meeting with Kiji. They did manage to escape, but had a lot of wounds that could kill them if they weren't treated asap. Fortunately for them Haneul happened to investigate Kiji and was aware of their setback. He took pity on them and helped them out for some time until they could go their separate ways and so Haneul wouldn't feel guilty for leaving Nao in the dirt. But as time passed, they grew fond of Nao and eventually agreed to form a team with them. Says he's an only child while actually having siblings as a safety percussion.
Luis Perez (fc: E.van M.ock), he/him, bisexual, a professional basketball player who had to quit playing due to an injury, now he helps out aspiring athletes with tips and whatever he can do. Is in a bit of a (messy) situationship with Jasmine.
Intira 'Jasmine' Kaeomani (fc: Anatchaya Suputhipong, aka Natty), she/her, bisexual, a personal stylist. Is in bit of a (messy) situationship with Luis (it started out as a publicity stunt).
Zig (fc: Kim B.ora) - she/him, lesbian, werewolf, mechanic working in the same repair shop as Chul. She's a rework of an old muse of mine. She used to grow up quick after she got abandoned by her family. At some point she found where they lived, but stopped herself from paying them a visit. Zig wondered why it all happened to her, but as time went on, she decided to stop thinking about it. After all, her parents probably didn't think as much about her as she did about them. So in the end she got used to living on her own. Her working in Chul's repair shop was completely coincidental. After she got fired from her last job as a waitress she needed to find a new job quickly and Chul needed someone who could take over the shop when he couldn't be around. Thankfully Zig had some prior knowledge when it came to cars and motorcycles, the rest she learned on the move as she's the type to learn quick, she had no choice but to learn fast all her life.
Andrea Wells (fc: M.ikey M.adison), she/her, questioning, a secretary at day, a comedian at night, also runs a popular faceless blog where she puts some interesting things for those willing to pay, would honestly give up her job as a secretary in a heartbeat if she had that option
Saeki Kiyomi (fc: H.ashimoto K.anna/K.utsuna Sh.iori), slightly inspired by the game MiSide, DKDKLC, or any similar games where one of the characters of a video game seems to have gained consciousness and has tried to gain consciousness (especially that looks innocent on the surface at first but is much darker once you get into the thick of it and there's a bit of fourth wall breaking), and also slight insiration from the webtoons S.urving R.omance and Z.omgan. There were so many stories about normal people transporting to another much different world than theirs, a world that no normal human would believe actually exists. If they were true, then was it possible for those same characters from the stories to be transported into the world of the humans? Kiyomi didn't even think about that at first. She wasn't programmed to think about that at first. She was supposed to be your traditional love interest of the main character in any video game, a character without much depth usually. But one day something happened. A glitch, perhaps. Something that slipped through the developer's eyes and started to corrupt the files. By the time they have noticed, it have already been too late. That is when Kiyomi saw beyond the wall. She saw who the real player was. She realized that most likely she wasn't their top priority. That in her current form they would never have their true happily ever after. Who knows, the player could find someone else, someone real and abandon her. So then, when nobody was watching, she began her biggest experiment, the first thing that she did and that she wasn't hard-wired to try to do. It starter with the first player, the experiment continued with the second, and the third, and so on. One could never guess the darkness that was brewing in a game that was supposed to be just for fun. As people from the real world started to disappear, the police began to suspect that there's a serial murderer on the rise. But they couldn't find a lead that could lead them to a suspect, nobody questioned the fact that there was one thing connecting all of the victims - that they all had that same dating game app on their devices and the last thing they had opened was that same app. What? They went into the screen? That's too silly, unbelievable. There was nothing that could make the developer of the game a suspect either. So the cases quickly went cold. As for Love Bytes, the game all of the missing people turned out to be playing, while the game became quite popular, with people making their own urban legend of some sort connected to it that everybody who plays it will enter the world of the game and would never return, something else managed to get out. Kiyomi who managed to learn quite a bit through her experiments created a copy of herself in the game while she herself managed to transport into the world of the humans. Now she can go back and forth through both worlds, though the world of the humans is always more interesting to her. But one thing never changed. She never managed to overwrite her desire to find her true love, no matter what she must do to have the one she wants. (please keep in mind that this character takes on some yandere personality traits and there would be possible themes of stalking, violence and torture with her. You can proceed interacting with her with caution). In the human world, she's working as an accountant in a big company. A pretty ordinary job f̧̡̛̦̜̯̞͚̜̬͉͗͊̅ͬ͂ͣ͑̌̾̂͛ǫ̶̸̡͚̙̺̰͇̘͗ͭ̅̏͑͑ͨ͐͛̈ͭͮͣͭ͘͟ŗ̴͙̰̰̰͇̱ͥ̀͐̊ͬ́̈̀͐̀̈́ͫ̍͟ͅ ą̬͚ͮ̀̓̚͝n̶̴̡̧̺͓̠̻̮̠͂̍̂͂̇̉ͧ̋ͦͭ͟ o̶̷̧̡̡͍͓̞̫̫̺̼͇̫̱͍̬̗̞̻̲̻ͨ͋́͌̅̒̏̓ͭ̇̔ͤ̈ͥ͗̓͘̚͜r̸̶̨̫̬̭̺̜͎̳͚̜̺̜̜̼͈̲͙͖͖̰̿ͥ͌ͭ̏̌̋ͧͫ̔̈́̓̓̑͊̉̓ͤͯ͊͞͡͝d̵̸̵̶̲̥͕̝̩̙͖͖̭̦̳̙̙ͮ̍̿̿̋ͪ̉̓̓̏̌ͫ̍̽ͨͥ̐́̾̌̊̉ͨ͂̕̚͟͠i̱̻̥̗̤͆̂͌̏̈͐ͯ̃ͮ͞��̚n̸̡̛̰͇̖͕̪̝̬͌͒͑ͪ̂̅ͦͬ̍ͣ͂͝a̜͔̫̜͖͇͙ͪ͐̉͐̀̃̅̋͊ͩ̑́ͮ͗ͣ͞_̙̭̬ͅr̪̖̱ͣͥ̍ͅy̡̒ g̴̵̨̢̢̳̯̼͙̹̫̅ͫ̂̑̀̂̽̒ͩ͋ͫ̚͟͝͡͡į̻̪̤̰̗̖͚̬̤̞̈́̄̿͑ͩ͒̊͢͡ͅr͇̝̣̩ͯ̃͑ͧ͆̀͘͜l̵̷̴̨̩͈̻̣̤͚͍̭̙͗̌ͥͭͧ̊͆̽͐̐͑̉̾͗̄̏ͮ͌͌ͦͭ̽̔̕̕͠ͅ.
#misc; ooc#//i might add more muses but for now it's gonna be just these 6#long post cw#//bc idk when the last muse's introduction got so long these were supposed to be short descriptions djfgjfdbgvf#//honestly kiyomi is ready to have her own seperate bio page with this long ass introduction
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The Second Library of Alexandria
Settling in
So so so out of order for what I want to map out, but the chittering whispers of the muse would not be silenced until they were appeased, so early Alexandria Daryl x OC fic be upon ye. Still need to do simple mathematics to add those 6 votes from the initial poll to see what this funky little queer will be called, but sex la vie or whatever.
Also, the quote they say is from Romeo and Juliet is actually from Hamlet. Onto the scene. Enjoy!
He’d been hiding in the tree line for a while now, shifting nervously from foot to foot, debating going in. He was just about to leave, to call the whole thing a waste of time when the rustle of leaves nearby caught his attention.
“I can hear you,” Daryl said to no one in particular. It didn’t matter who it turned out to be; the drunken cadence of whomever had found him was familiar enough.
“No you can’t. I’m being super quiet and stealthy actually. I think you might be experiencing auditory hallucinat-“ They were cut off by the crack of dry wood and the rustle of leaves as they fell somewhere close off to his right.
A snort and a giggle quickly followed. A small smile of his own cracked the harsh line that he’d pressed his mouth into.
He heard them stand back up, and moments later, they stood at his side. He tore his gaze away from the house, from the throngs of people in the window, dressed in their Sunday best or whatever they would call it. They stood next to him, swaying on their feet, staring through the branches above to see the stars. Their face was flush with alcohol and awe as their finger traced constellations with no names. They always looked at the sky the same way, with a sense of wonder and fondness, as if they were seeing it for the first time. Daryl found it endearing, but reasoned that the pleasant tightening in his chest was a gentle amazement that anyone was able to maintain that level of wonder after living through the end of days so long.
“Yer drunk,” Daryl said plainly, not quite sure what else to say.
They snorted. “Heh, yeah. Rick is finally watching his own fucking baby. Love that kid, don’t tell her I said that. And I’ve been going drink for drink with good ol’ Abe. Haven’t been this drunk since undergrad.” They swayed a bit. “Came outside to smoke. Saw you. Decided to bother you.” They leaned against a tree as they fumbled in their pockets. They placed a joint between their lips, fiddling with the lighter.
“You doin a good job at that already,” he said, watching them struggle with drunken fingers to hold a flame on the lighter.
They laughed again, failing to light the lighter once more. “Mission accomplished then.” They considered the lighter for a moment. “If I share, will you light this? I fear I’ve lost control of my fine motor functions.”
He huffed a laugh, taking the offered lighter. He held the flame cupped in front of him. They leaned in a little unsteadily, not that their coordination was great to begin with when sober. The soft skin of their cheek grazed against his hand that blocked the wind as they breathed in the first drag, humming pleasantly. Daryl’s fingers felt tingly where they’d made contact with their face. He flexed them to rid himself of the feeling, trading the lighter for the outstretched joint.
They stood in silence for a while, passing the joint back and forth. “So,” they began, exhaling smoke through their nose, “you gonna come in? I’ve been pissing off rich milktoast democrats all night. It’s quite fun, if I do say so myself.”
He scoffed and shook his head, taking the joint as they passed it to him. “Not my crowd.”
They hummed as they watched him exhale, eyes trailing his profile. “Not mine either.” The two considered each other for a moment. “Glad you came close though. It’s nice to see you trying.”
His eyes narrowed, “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
They shrugged. “You’ve been pissed off and uncomfortable since we got here. It’s a nice change of pace. You’re more fun when you’re not all angsty and brooding.” They kicked his boot playfully, smiling as they took the joint back. They used both hands, fingers grazing both his palm and knuckles in the process. They thought for a moment. “Hot and sexy maybe, but not much fun.”
Daryl felt his face heat. He shook his head. “Yer drunk.”
They laughed. “And high. Figure that out all on your own, hey Sherlock? I’m serious though.” They took one more drag and handed it back over. “Here. You finish this.” They exhaled up into his face as they pushed off the tree they were leaning against. He grumbled, and they chuckled. “Maybe now that you’re getting comfy, you can finally take a shower.”
“Don’t count on it,” he said, feeling a small smile tug at his mouth.
They hummed again, studying his face. Their expression was the same pensive curiosity they showed when archiving some textbook they found. He could feel a slight fuzziness in his head that he blamed on the weed.
“What?” He looked away, not liking the way his face was heating under their gaze or the way his stomach flipped.
They started to say something, a single “I” slipping out before they seemingly changed their mind on what to say. “You, Rick, and Carol. What are you guys planning?”
Daryl sighed. Of course they’d noticed. “Don’t worry bout it.”
They chewed at their bottom lip. “I wouldn’t if it were just you and Carol. But Rick,” their voice trailed off. They’d never been the biggest fan of Rick's leadership, something they were very vocal about most times, but this was different. This was worry, concern.
Daryl felt his hand move on its own accord, finding perch on their shoulder. He was briefly aware of how big his hand looked on their short frame, but he shook his head. “Rick’s fine. We’re all fine. Promise”
Their eyes narrowed momentarily. He knew that they’d clocked his uncertainty. But they apparently decided to let it pass. All at once, he saw the alcohol and cannabis creep back over their consciousness, as if they’d allowed it purchase again. Or maybe it had always been at least a little bit of an act.
“Alright, Daryl my dear. Whatever you say.” They patted the hand on their shoulder. “I’m gonna go turn this political fundraiser into an actual party. This music is ass. Or maybe I’ll find Deanna and tell her why I didn’t vote for her last election. That would be fun.” They grabbed his hand and stepped back, bowing. “Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!” They pressed a quick kiss onto the back of his hand, close to the still-healing cig burn from a week or so ago. They’d been the only one to notice that too. “That was from Romeo and Juliet I think. Maybe. I don’t know; it’s all a big mess up here right now.” They dropped his hand to tap their forehead. Daryl felt a strange sadness at the loss, knuckles still tingling from where their lips had touched.
He waved them off before he could register the heat spreading from the back of his neck. He listened to them giggle one last time, waving back at him as they made their way back to the party. “G’night, Daryl. I’ll see you back at home. Well, the house. Not quite home.” They stopped to ponder, apparently their brain and their feet unable to operate at the same time.
Daryl shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Just get in there. Go have another drink or something.”
That seemed to snap them out of it. “Yessir,” they said, hitting a sloppy salute before laughing and waving as they headed back inside.
Daryl stayed in the tree line a little longer, watching them through the back sliding door, then through the window as they stood on a couch and started their show, ever the performer. As the music changed from a polite jazz to whatever rowdy bar song they started, he sighed and turned away. He began walking towards what would hopefully be home. Eventually.
#throws this into the abyss#daryl posting#the second library of Alexandria#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x ftm reader#daryl dixon x gn!reader#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon x oc#cw weed
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Random musings about last nite's episode
"Right in my cancer".
Bony Stark
Get orbed Delilah!
No, but seriously, glad to see that they finally found a nice way to control that issue and turned her into basically a magic battery.
As someone who hasn't seen C2 yet -started with C1, saw all of the EXUs, and have been watching C3 from the get go- (but already know most of its beats because how could you not by now), kinda wish I had seen it to better understand how Braius' origin is tied to Nott and Jester. Like, it was obvious and everyone reactions when they realized was priceless. Still think I would've laughed more had I known the full context.
I love that Vasselheim saw the lifeless husk of the undead primordial titan from the ending of C1 and thought "IT'S FREE REAL ESTATE". But it's also an amazing sign to add to a city that's already thousands of years old, in terms of adaptability, of symbolism (the city of the gods turning a primordial titan into a building and source of resources), and just all around aesthetic -the fact that people are mining it, that they incorporated it into the cityscape, the fact that they made apartments and people have gardens growing out of it-.
Also, I'm pretty sure there's gonna be another undead outbreak in Vasselheim before the night's over. I would be shocked if it don't happen, because the seeds for it were firmly planted.
GROG!! J'MON SA ORD!!
Ever since it was clear that this campaign was a-ok for the cameos, and the moment it became evident that every major character of the 3 campaigns and EXU was gonna end up playing a part in the final conflict, I was waiting for the whole "EVERYONE IS HERE" moment, and we're finally getting there. It's gonna be so much fun seeing the art that's gonna come out of it.
But in a related note, it just dawned on me, as if it wasn't evident already, that we're entering the final stretch of the campaign. And like, I still think that we've got many months ahead, like, I don't think this is ending this year. But the fact that we're finally at the meeting where everybody is gathering around for the big fight, the fact that Delilah is finally under control, that Ludinus' invasion is finally underway. We're clearly in the beginning of the final act (even the wiki, which I know is not official, but has arc 6 starting point at episode 102). Between the 10th anniversary next year and the launch of Daggerheart (and assuming they might change systems for Campaign 4), everything's kinda fitting together.
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The BNHA Season 4 BluRay/DVD Vol. 1-6 Box Set comes with a special bonus light novel called the "Cultural Festival Wrap-Up Party" about Class A's after-party they had the day after the Cultural Festival, written by Anri-sensei. Here's the summary! Enjoy~
Boku No Hero Academia Cultural Festival Wrap Up Party
The story starts off with All Might greeting Aizawa as he enters the faculty office, a day after the Cultural Festival. He says good work to Aizawa and asks how the clean-up went for the Cultural Festival. Aizawa says that everything has been put away properly and recalls how it was a bit of a risky Cultural Festival this year with the whole fiasco that almost caused them to stop the festival, referring to the incident with Gentle and La Brava.
Aizawa mentions that the students are now preparing for an after-party. He says, “too bad they can’t put this amount of effort that they did in the Cultural Festival towards their studies instead,” and All Might laughs and says, “Well, they’re still just kids after all.” He also tells All Might that a little while ago, Sero stopped by the office to ask him something. Aizawa says, “What?” and All Might explains, “Well…you see…”
Next scene is at a nearby discount variety store (**note: basically a Don Quihote department store in Japan that sells a variety of things including food at really cheap prices). The Class A band team, consisting of Jirou, Kaminari, Bakugou, Yaoyorozu, and Tokoyami, are buying snacks and drinks for the after-party. However, Jirou seems to be the only one who’s actually taking this seriously as she can’t find where everyone else ran off to. She bumps into Yaoyorozu, who excitedly says, “Jirou-san, look at these super cheap drinks! They’re only 10yen each! If we buy 20 of them that’s only 200yen!”
Jirou looks at the bottles and notices that they’re only on sale because the drinks had already expired. She tells Yaoyorozu to put away the items. She then continues to search for the other band members and finds Kaminari. He tells her that he wants to add these cool snacks into their pile of food, which come with bonus cards or toys. He says, “Look at these! Doesn’t it take you back? Man, when I was a kid I used to collect these all the time!”
Jirou looks at the items and says “put it back,” and Kaminari whines but does so anyway. Yaoyorozu keeps getting distracted by all the things in the store since she’s very rich, she seldom has the opportunity to visit these discount stores that people go to. Jirou finds Tokoyami, and Dark Shadow dumps a whole bunch of sweets into their shopping cart. Jirou says that they don’t need that many sweets and to put things back. Tokoyami then gives Jirou a snack with packaging that says “The Witch of Darkness’ Apple Pie.” Dark Shadow says, “Fumikage used to love these sweets when he was younger!” and Tokoyami gets flustered. Jirou then pats Dark Shadow on his head, and Bakugou comes up behind her.
He says, “What the hell are you guys even buying!?”
Kaminari cries out, “Whattya mean!?”
Bakugou says, “If we’re gonna eat this at the after-party, then we need several big bags of food! And why the hell am I even here shopping with you guys right now!? This is so annoying!”
As he says that, he fills the shopping cart with bags of potato chips, sweets, paper plates, and trash bags. Jirou sighs in relief and says, “Yeah! I was thinking of getting paper plates too so clean-up would be easier!” They then agree to buy some more bottles of juice and soda, and Bakugou says they only need a maximum 5 bottles to which Jirou agrees.
Bakugou then says, “Well then let’s just get the hell out of here!” and Kaminari regrettably puts all of the sweets that he added to the shopping cart back on the shelves. Jirou looks at Bakugou and says, “Bakugou, you’re…kinda like a very capable Mom.”
Bakugou gets mad and says, “WHAT!? Stop saying such stupid crap!”
While the Band members are buying stuff at the discount store, the Dance Team members and Stage members are back in the Class A dormitory preparing food and decorating the common room. The Dance Team is in charge of the food and the Stage team is in charge of decorations.
Satou is the one who is cooking most of the food, but the other Dance Team members are helping him with the food preparation. Iida is in charge of chopping the vegetables, and although he is known for his speed, he’s not used to handling knives, so he chops them at a slower pace. Hagakure is in charge of prepping the oil and oil absorbent sheets to fry the chicken and place it on the sheets. Ochako and Ashido are in charge of stirring the pot, which contains beschamel and bolognese sauces.
Ojiro checks up on the oven to make sure that it’s the right temperature. Satou tells Ochako and Ashido to add the sauce for the lasagna and to not forget to put olive oil on top. Shouji says that he’s done making the dressing for the salad, and Satou samples it. The kitchen is full of lively sounds, and everyone is excited for Ojiro’s delicious cooking.
Ochako, Ashido, and Hagakure then discuss how Christmas is around the corner too, so they should do this again and throw a Christmas party next time. While they think about having a potential Christmas party, Iida says, “Hey now! Christmas is a day that celebrates the Birth of Jesus Christ! You should be spending it with your families, so this Christmas we…”
Satou then says, “Iida, the knife, watch out the knife!” since Iida was talking while swinging the knife around in his hand. Iida apologizes. Ashido then says, “But wouldn’t a party be fun?” and Mineta appears in the kitchen holding some peaches while muttering, “Christmas…Christmas costumes…Santa Girl skirts…That’s awesome…”
However, they eventually convince Iida that Christmas is indeed a time to celebrate things together, and Iida gives in and says he will ask Aizawa for permission to throw a Christmas party much to everyone’s delight.
Mineta had been slacking off on his duties by looking at the peaches and stroking them gently, imagining something lewd, and Hagakure calls him out on his perverted thoughts and tells him to help out along with the others.
He is in charge of cutting the carrots, and while everyone is helping prepare the food, Ochako stares at the fried chicken that just came out of the fryer. She can’t help herself and pops one into her mouth only to find that it’s burning hot. Tsuyu says to be careful since they’re still hot, and Ochako apologizes as the fried chicken looked and smelled so delicious she moved without thinking.
Satou asks her how’s the flavor, and she says the fried chicken is really good while giving him a thumbs up.
Ojiro and Hagakure are washing the dishes, and Hagakure holds the plates, making them look like they’re floating in mid air. Ojiro then tells Hagakure that she should probably put some clothes on if she’s going to be in the kitchen where people use fire and knives, but she said she just wanted to see what people’s reactions were to her small pranks. Shouji then passes her an apron, and Mineta muses that it’s one of those tropes where girls wear aprons while naked, but Iida warns him to not go further.
Meanwhile, in the common room area, the Stage Team is preparing the decorations to be strung about the living room. Deku, Todoroki, and Koda are folding origami together to put on the walls as banners. Deku folds a cool All Might shaped origami, and Todoroki praises him, saying “Wow, All Might! That’s awesome!” Deku actually used to practice folding the All Might origami countless of times to perfect its shape, and he blushes a bit when he hears praise from someone.
He then sees that Todoroki folded a crane, and Todoroki says that his sister taught him how to fold the crane origami when he was a child.
Koda then says, “Oh um…I…made a camera origami!” and shows them a whimsical camera shaped origami that makes a shutter noise when pressed. Deku then notices that Koda actually had folded a ton of different origami flowers and animals, and Koda gets a bit embarrassed at the attention.
Koda says, “But the All Might origami is amazing…” and Todoroki agrees.
Todoroki then asks Deku to teach him how to fold the All Might origami. Deku is happy to oblige, and he says, “Okay first you fold a triangle and then…”
As he starts teaching Todoroki, Kirishima comes into the room and puts up his own dorm room’s fisherman banner on the wall of the common room. He says that this will make the place a bit flashier, and the others agree. Aoyama then comes in and also says that they need something sparkly and bright. Aoyama tells them that he’ll come back with something sparkly.
Kirishima then says, “Oh wait I’ll come help too!”
Todoroki then turns to Deku and says, “Midoriya, so how exactly do you fold the All Might origami?”
Deku realized that he was in the middle of teaching Todoroki before they got interrupted by the others, so he resumes his lesson by saying to first fold a triangle. Afterwards, he goes off on a tangent about how to perfect the folding process as well as making sure to accentuate the silhouette of All Might through the folds, and as he mumbles a bit, he accidentally folds the origami too quickly.
Todoroki is patient with him though and says again, “Um…can you please start from the beginning and teach me the steps a bit slower this time?”
Deku apologizes for folding the paper too fast and teaches Todoroki again, this time at a slower pace.
Kirishima then walks by and says, “Woah Todoroki, you also want to learn how to fold the All Might origami?” He leaves them to their folding and joins Aoyama and Koda in putting the finished origami and other decorations up on the walls.
After Todoroki successfully folds the All Might origami, Deku says, “You made your first All Might origami!” and Todoroki responds quietly, “I think this should be able to fit in the letter…”
Deku says, “Hmm?” and Todoroki says, “Ah, it’s nothing.”
Aoyama them brings a disco ball into the common room, and he, Kirishima, and Sero put up the other decorations.
Finally, the preparations are complete, and the Class A students gather in the common room surrounding a bunch of food that’s placed on the tables. Iida then makes a toast to a successful Cultural Festival, and everyone raises their glasses and says, “Cheers!”
Satou mentions that he also has prepared dessert, and they have two choices of either a chestnut and fig montblanc cake or an apple and peach jelly. Tsuyu chooses the jelly as jelly is apparently her favorite food. Tokoyami also chooses the jelly dessert while Ashido takes the montblanc.
Iida mentions that he and Mineta were in charge of chopping the cabbages and carrots for the cole slaw. Todoroki and Deku praise him and say that the coleslaw is delicious.
Bakugou watches irritably and decides to leave the party, but Kaminari says, “Hey hey hey, where do you think you’re going, Kacchan-kun!?” Bakugou says that seeing everyone making small talk is pissing him off, but Kaminari rebutts by saying, “But you looked excited when you were buying food!”
Kirishima then comes over and says, “Bakugou! I brought you some fried chicken! Let’s eat a ton!” and puts a bunch of fried chicken in front of Bakugou, to which he says he doesn’t want it. Kirishima doesn’t back down though and says, “Oh I got it! So you want lasagna instead!” and brings a slice of lasagna for him.
Satou noticed Kirishima carrying the food over and says, “Hey, you should put a bunch of tabasco on it before eating too!” and pours a bunch of tabasco onto the lasagna and force feeds Bakugou with it. Bakugou yells, “What the hell are you doing!?” but eventually pipes down after taking the lasagna from Kirishima as it seems like he does enjoy the food after all. Kirishima watches him and says, “See, I told you it’s good! I’ll bring you seconds!” and goes to bring Bakugou more food.
Sero then turns everyone’s attention towards the TV in the common room. He says, “Well then now that Bakugou’s calmed down, let’s watch the recap of our Cultural Festival performance!” He turns on the TV and everyone gathers around to watch the recorded performance.
Some of the members mention that Deku was late to the performance, and they thought that he might not even be able to perform. Deku apologizes for being late, but as the performance starts, they can hear the audience’s chatter as someone yells “YAOYOROZU!!!” Ashido and Kaminari tease her about having fans, and she gets flustered. Satou then whispers, “It’s starting…it’s starting…!” and the screen fills with the sound of Bakugou’s drums as well as a huge explosion.
The girls all fawn over how cool Jirou looks while singing, and this causes her to blush and say, “Please stop…” Koda also adds, “You were really cool, Jirou-san,” which makes her blush deepen.
Ashido exclaims, “Look look, the dance is all in line too!” and the class watches as Ojiro uses his tail to swing around. Everyone on the dance team mentions how it was thanks to Ashido being their teacher that they were able to have fun while dancing and making this possible. Next is Deku and Aoyama’s synchronized dance, and Shouji murmurs to Tsuyu, “Wow, they are so in sync!” to which she replies, “Midoriya-chan and Aoyama-chan practiced real hard, right?”
The students continue to watch as Aoyama becomes a disco ball and the stage team starts their part of the performance with Kirishima shaving the ice that Todoroki created while Sero uses his tape, and Kirishima says, “You guys’ timing was perfect, Seroroki!”
Sero mentions that they should try this move out while doing actual hero work next time, and Todoroki agrees. As Kaminari watches himself play the guitar, he says, “Woah there…I feel like I’m gonna be super popular after this with those slick guitar moves…!” and Mineta says, “But wait did you guys see my harem dance? That was the best…!”
Jirou says, “Tokoyami, you’ve gotten super good at guitar!” and Tokoyami mentions that it’s all thanks to her.
Kirishima and Bakugou are watching the performance from a spot a little away from the rest of the class, and Kirishima smiles at Bakugou, saying, “Man, you’re great at drumming after all!” and Bakugou replies casually, “it’s just average.”
Jirou overhears their conversation and says, “No way! Your drumming was phenomenal! Your rhythm is what allowed us all to stay in sync! Thank you for taking on this role!” and Bakugou scoffs and says, “Well, you’re the one who carried the whole performance though!”
Everyone is really impressed by Jirou’s bass skills as well as her singing, and they vote for her as the Class A Cultural Festival MVP. Everyone, aside from Bakugou, smiles at her, and she blushes, saying, “What…why…”
Yaoyorozu remarks, “Jirou-san, you were shining the brightest!” and Aoyama says, “Even more than me!?☆” But he agrees that Jirou indeed deserves the MVP title.
The class asks Jirou to make a small speech. She thanks everyone for making this performance a reality, and she’s really happy that they were able to perform together.
After everyone is done eating, Sero and Kaminari tells the class that they have some cool party games planned for everyone. Most of the class are excited for what they have in store, but Bakugou feels like it’s a waste of time and gets up to leave. Kirishima tries to stop him, but Sero taunts, “Oh, you’re leaving because you don’t think you can win, right? Well that’s fine, you can go back. Even though we have a quiz specifically tailored for you, but I guess you’d fail anyway.”
This gets Bakugou angry, and he agrees to participate in Sero’s dumb quiz challenge.
The games that Sero and Kaminari have planned are for one member of each Cultural Festival team to undergo a “Can you guess the __” type of challenge. Bakugou is first up, representing the Band Team. His challenge is to differentiate between three different types of pepper spice seasoning purely by taste (called 一味 ichimi).
Bakugou sits down in front of the table that has the seasonings, and Sero blindfolds him by putting on an eye mask that has a funny grinning face on it. Deku and the others snicker at how ridiculous Bakugou looks with that eye mask on, and Bakugou gets mad, yelling, “Damnit Deku, what the hell is so funny!?” Deku replies, “Well, anyone would laugh when they see…hahah!”
Bakugou roars, “You piece of shit!” but Todoroki says calmly, “Hey Bakugou, maybe you should consider wearing a hero suit that matches that mask.” Bakugou is furious and yells, “Shut the hell up, you half and half bastard!”
The challenge then begins, and Kaminari spoon feeds Bakugou the three different spices. He surprises everyone by correctly guessing each type of spice and goes even as far to explain which company manufactures them. Kaminari and Sero are speechless, but Deku says, “I thought that Kacchan would know the difference. He’s always had a very particular sense of taste. He could even tell when sweets expired and would never eat the expired food.”
Bakugou gets mad and says, “Don’t put on that stupid face as if you know it all!” and throws the eye mask at Deku.
The next challenge is Todoroki’s turn, representing the Stage Team. His task is to figure out among three cups of brown liquid which one is soba noodle soup. The cups contain either coffee, soba noodle soup, or throat medicine, and Todoroki cannot smell or taste them before picking his answer.
Iida mentions that Todoroki often eats soba during lunch, so there’s no way he would guess incorrectly for a food that he loves. Deku says, “Good luck, Todoroki!” as everyone watches him study the cups closely. The catch is that he also has to drink from whichever cup he chooses. Todoroki decides on a cup and drinks from it, only to spit it out and say, “That…wasn’t soba noodle soup…”
Kaminari chimes in by explaining that the cup he chose was actually throat medicine. Todoroki apologizes for spitting out the throat medicine, which splurted all over Iida and Deku. They tell him not to worry as more importantly, they need to get tissues to clean up the mess. Todoroki mutters, “I don’t think I want to eat soba anymore after this…”
The next challenge is for Tsuyu, where she has to differentiate from three different types of fluffy things: Koda’s bunny, Ojiro’s tail, and Deku’s hair by touch only. As she puts on the eye mask, Koda, Ojirou, and Deku stand in front of her. When Koda offers the bunny, Tsuyu says, “it’s fluffy.” When Ojiro offers his tail, she also says, “it’s fluffy.” When Deku offers his hair, Tsuyu says, “it’s…fuzzy?” She then correctly guesses which fluffiness was which.
Kaminari and Sero then round up the results of the various challenges, and the winner ends up being Bakugou!
Bakugou says, “Obviously I would win!” but the party’s not over yet! Next up is the Personality Quiz! Sero explains that since the class is with each other practically 24/7, they should all have picked up on small details of each other. This quiz will test how well they actually know each other after all.
The first question they ask is, “What did Iida answer on his Hero Test the other day to name the three most beautiful Heroes of the past?”
The class guesses incorrectly, and the answer was that he wrote on his test “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and everyone has their own different types of beauty.”
Baffled, Iida asks Sero and Kaminari how they even knew what he wrote on a test paper, and they explained that their accomplice, Hagakure, has been doing a bit of spying on everyone in order for them to make this quiz a reality. Hagakure apologizes for doing so, but she says that she saw it as an opportunity to also test out her hero skills too.
The next question is “What has Yaoyorozu been obsessed about lately?” Jirou answers first, saying “Oh, is it furikake (rice seasoning)?” The answer turns out to be correct, and recently, Yaoyorozu has taken a strong liking to furikake to season her rice, which makes her blush a bit.
Sero then says, “All right Kaminari, what’s the next question?”
Kaminari answers, “Okay! For the next question, what made Ojirou disappointed recently!?”
Satou guesses, “Cementoss said his effort was average?”
Shouji says, “Tetsutetsu told him his strength was average?”
Aoyama ponders, “Recovery Girl said his health was average?☆”
The correct answer is actually Ojiro changed the conditioner for his tail recently, but no one noticed. However, Hagakure sidles up to him and says, “I actually saw you looking around near the bathroom area to see if anyone noticed, haha!” and Ojiro gets red, saying, “Well if you were watching me, why didn’t you say anything…!?”
The next question was, “What was hidden in Kirishima’s elementary school yearbook!?” Kirishima panics and says, “Huh!? How did you…!” but Sero grins and says, “That’s only for me to know. But I totally could not believe what was hidden there!”
Ashido guesses, “Maybe a love letter!?”
Mineta exclaims, “A porn magazine!!”
Todoroki says, “Failed test scores?”
All three of them were incorrect. The correct answer is “a photo of him dressed up as a girl!”
Bakugou says to him, “You’re actually into that kinda stuff?”
Kirishima gets flustered and says, “Wait, you’ve got it all wrong! It was during my elementary school’s festival stage play of Cinderella where I played the Stepmother! When I left the picture at home, my mommy kept showing it to other people, so I tried to hide it!!”
Kaminari then continues with the next question, saying “Okay, so next question. Before the Cultural Festival performance, what did Uraraka mess up on!?”
Deku says, “She accidentally made herself float!?”
Iida offers, “She was too nervous she threw up!?”
Tokoyami asks, “She ate too much mochi and threw up!?”
Kaminari says they all guessed wrong and the correct answer is “she was looking for Midoriya but tripped and accidentally went into a room where Class B’s Monoma was in the middle of changing clothes!”
Ochako gets red in the face and says, “I didn’t do it on purpose!!”
Mineta comments something lewd, but Tsuyu shuts him down.
The next question is “What was the reason why Jirou and Hagakure were arguing!?”
Koda says, “Because Hagakure-san was messing with Jirou-san’s earphone jack…?”
Yaoyorozu offers, “Jirou-san accidentally stepped on Hagakure-san’s naked body?”
Mineta exclaims, “Fighting over a guy!”
The correct answer is because Hagakure tried scaring Jirou after they watched a horror film together. Ashido asked whether they actually argued, and Jirou said she got mad because when she takes a shower alone, she’s usually scared of the bathroom area anyway. So when Hagakure messed with her by causing the lights to flicker on and off and the faucet to suddenly turn on by itself, she absoutely freaked out and felt like she almost had a heart attack. Naturally, she was livid, and Hagakure says, “Sorry Jirou, your reactions were just too good!”
The next question is about Deku, and Kaminari asks, “Recently, Deku has been leaving the dorm early to meet with someone. Who is that secret someone!?” (**Note: The word they use is ‘aibiki,” which means secret date/meeting).
Deku is surprised and says, “Wait, how do you know that…?”
Mineta and Satou ask if he was secretly meeting up with a girl, and Iida says, “Midoriya-kun! Are you actually in a relationship with a girl!? You should prioritize studies first!”
Ochako is confused as she says to herself, “Aibiki? Like the type of meat?” (**Note: Ochako isn’t familiar with the word, so she thinks it’s referring to ‘aibikiniku,’ which is a combination of different types of ground meat)
Deku gets nervous and says, “No, it’s not like that…” He thinks of ways to deflect the situation without making it known that he’s actually meeting up with All Might in the morning to train his quirk, but the other classmates continue to guess.
Kirishima says, “He’s meeting with someone from the General Class!?”
Ashido says, “No way…maybe he’s meeting with someone older, like Midnight…!?”
Mineta suggests, “Maybe he’s meeting with a living thing other than a girl…!!”
All three of their guesses were incorrect, and the correct answer was that he was meeting with the Support Department’s Hatsume Mei!
Deku is relieved to know that the others have not found out about his secret rendezvous with All Might early in the morning to do training.
Bakugou snorts and says, “There’s no way that dumb nerd would ever be popular!” but Sero says, “No, Midoriya is quite popular among the ladies. Like during the Provisional License Exam when that naked upper classman got all over him.”
Deku rebutts by saying, “But that was because she was attacking me!?”
Iida then recalls how Hatsume helped Deku out when they went to the department together earlier, and after an explosion, she was also all over him. Mineta then gets lewd thoughts again, but the conversation switches to Mineta using his mogimogi hair balls and puts it on Deku’s head. Iida notes that it looks like Deku’s wearing those infamous mouse ears from “Zoo Dreamland” (aka Disneyland). Ashido mentions that she used to go to Disneyla—…Zoo Dreamland all the time when she was younger. The class chatter switches to discussing their favorite rides, attractions, and food.
The class then asks Mineta to put mogimogi balls on their heads too so they can look like they’re wearing those infamous mouse ears as well. Mineta enjoys the attention and says, “All right I guess…”
Before the party wraps up, Sero mentions that there’s one more video that they want to show to everyone. As they gather around the TV to watch, they see Aizawa on screen with a cat. As the video starts, Aizawa suddenly appears in the common room and reprimands them, asking what are they doing up so late? The video pauses on the screen.
Aizawa stops the party and tells everyone to clean up and go to their rooms. Since the party’s over, he tells Sero, Kaminari, and Hagakure to stay behind. The three students prepare themselves for a scolding, but instead, Aizawa asks them where they got this footage.
It turns out that Present Mic gave it to them after he recorded it while hiding in sight. The footage was of Aizawa trying to befriend a cat, but the cat ignores him and goes to All Might instead. Sero actually came to the faculty department before the after-party to ask for permission to show the footage, and since Aizawa wasn’t there at the time, All Might said it was okay.
However, Aizawa says he will be collecting the footage and tells the three to never discuss the contents of the video to anyone. They agree, and he sends them off on their way.
It’s been a long day, and Aizawa sighs and wonders just when he got caught up in all of this student stuff. However, although adolescence is short, that never stops them from chasing their dreams forever. Happily, while young, without sadness, sweetly, harshly…youth is a precious thing.
The light novel ends with Aizawa saying, “Good luck, everyone” with the words “the festival had ended, but even so, their bright days continue onward.”
THE END
#boku no hero academia#bnha#deku#midoriya izuku#bakugou#bakugou katsuki#ochako#todoroki#todoroki shouto#iida#kirishima#kirishima eijirou#ochako uraraka#tsuyu asui#yaoyorozu#jirou kyoka#kaminari denki#sero#all might#aizawa#my translations#this story was cute
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clandestine. | 02
↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.
◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7k [2/6]
notes: looks like it’s a writing/editing kinda day, folks! hope you enjoy this installment, and let me know what you think!
warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, jeon jungkook is a goddamn tease, smuuuut, oral (f receiving), jk’s got a big dick whoOPS, minimally edited bc i’m feeling lazy
⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06
Morning brings with it bright sunshine and fresh horror as the events of the previous evening come rushing back. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to look Jeon Jungkook in the eye again—or at least, not without being reminded of the way he’d plagued every single one of your dreams with devilish eyes and even more devilish fingers. Groaning, you scrub at your temples, as if that will help dispel the memories. After a few fruitless moments, you crawl out of bed and head for the bathroom, intent on washing everything away with a good, cold shower.
Try as you might, though, you simply cannot avoid your dark-haired neighbor. You’re in the kitchen sipping at your second coffee of the day and debating what you want for lunch when there’s a knock on the front door—a familiar rhythm that has your heart stuttering. “It’s open!” Jimin yells from the living room, and a moment later, the devil himself strolls in, wearing a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans and well-worn Timberlands. Vaguely, you wonder when he made the switch from white tees to black, but your musings are cut short when he spots you in the kitchen, an impish grin settling across his face.
“Hey, Noona.”
“Hey.” You thank whatever god may be out there that your voice is steady. “Jimin’s in the living room.”
Jungkook tilts his head coyly and takes a step forward. “What makes you think I’m here for Jimin? Maybe I came to see you.”
Anxiously, you swallow down the memories of his warm hands that are trying to resurface. “I highly doubt that.”
“Really?” Jungkook takes another step forward and plucks the coffee mug from your hands. “What if I came over to finish what I started last night?”
Heat floods across your face. “That—that was… I mean, I don’t—”
“You don’t what?” Jungkook asks, raising a brow. “Want me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a lie, Noona.” Quietly, he closes the last bit of distance between you, and when he speaks again you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “You see, I think you want me. Just as much as I want you. Am I wrong?”
“Jungkook, we—”
“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Jimin’s head suddenly pops around the doorway, and you nearly jump out of your skin in your effort to put some distance between you and your dark-haired neighbor. “I’m about to start the game without you.”
“Just wanted to grab some coffee and say hi to {Name},” Jungkook replies, raising your half-empty mug to his lips and taking a sip. “Did you want to join us, Noona? It’d be fun to watch you kick Jimin’s ass at Mario Kart again.”
You swallow, hard. “I can’t. I’ve got homework to do.” Not strictly true, perhaps, but you’d been planning on looking over the details of your internship again at some point, and now seems as good a time as any. “Sorry,” you add quickly, seeing Jungkook’s disbelieving expression.
“Summer homework? Gross.” Jimin pulls a face. “You’re still coming to Tae’s party though, right?”
You nod, unwillingly catching Jungkook’s eye again. He’s still sipping at your coffee, and you don’t miss the flagrant wink he shoots you over the rim of the cup. “See you later then, Noona,” he says, his voice practically a purr.
“Right,” you respond dully, your heart skipping a beat at the dark promise in his stare. “Later.”
Jimin and Jungkook disappear down the hall, but you remain rooted in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, listening as the music of whatever video game they’ve decided on starts playing from the living room. Heaving a sigh, you fetch a new mug from the cupboard and pour yourself some more coffee, grabbing an apple and a bag of chips as well. Taking everything up to your bedroom, you pull out your laptop and make yourself comfortable on your bed, plugging in some headphones to drown out the noise from downstairs. With any luck, you won’t have to see Jungkook again until you have to leave for Taehyung’s party, and you’re pretty sure that it’ll be easy to avoid him once you’re there.
In fact, you’re certain of it.
So with that thought in mind, you settle down with your coffee and open up Netflix, sinking into the pillows and pushing your dark-haired neighbor into the deepest recesses of your mind. It isn’t until your phone starts vibrating insistently against your thigh that you are startled out of your binge-watching, the screen lit up with two new notifications. Surprised, you realize that hours have passed, the sky outside your window deepening into the hazy blue of nighttime.
[6:02pm] Jungkook: you hungry, noona?
[6:02pm] Jungkook: for pizza, i mean. we ordered dinner
[6:03pm] Jungkook: but i’ll be your dessert if you want me ;)
You drop your phone as if burned, his final message playing over and over in your mind. It takes you a full minute to gather your wits again, stowing your device in your pocket without responding and carefully picking your way downstairs. Already, you can smell the cheesy grease, your stomach growling in anticipation.
Just grab the pizza and go, you think to yourself, formulating your escape plan and double-checking it for any holes. Dine and dash.
You’re walking past the foyer when there’s suddenly a knock on the front door. Curiously, you answer it, swinging it open to see a familiar grinning face standing on the doorstep. Lee Taemin is a good friend of Jimin’s, and your brother pokes his head out from the kitchen at the sound of your greeting, clearly expecting the new guest.
“Taemin! Get in here and have some pizza,” Jimin says, his mouth full. “You too, Noona. We got plenty.”
Instead of immediately heading for the food, Taemin wraps you in a hug that has you wheezing for air. “Long time no see, huh? How’ve you been?”
You squirm in his tight embrace, raised to your tiptoes. “Put me down, you heathen. I’m fine right now, but I won’t be if you suffocate me.”
Taemin chortles good-naturedly and releases his grip, ruffling your hair. “Good to see you too, {Name}. Honestly, it hasn’t been the same around here without you. How long are you back for? The whole summer?”
You shake your head. “Just a couple weeks. I’ve got to get back for an internship.”
“Already a hotshot, huh?” Taemin grins. “What are you going to be doing?”
The topic of your summer job is a welcome distraction from the way Jungkook’s dark gaze trails after you as you tread into the kitchen alongside Taemin, slapping two slices of pizza onto a plate and glancing around for a napkin. You can feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull, prickling your skin with electricity, but continue your conversation with Taemin as if nothing is amiss.
“You gonna sit down or what?” Taemin gives you a quizzical glance as he pulls a chair out from the table, joining Jimin and Jungkook who are already seated. You do your best to ignore the way Jungkook’s jaw flexes with every chew, somehow managing to look infuriatingly handsome despite the mouth full of dough and pizza grease staining his chin.
“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for the excuse you had planned. “—I still have some work to do. Reading and whatnot.”
“Nerd,” Jimin snorts.
Taemin shrugs. “Okay, then. Suit yourself, I guess.”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything. But you feel his eyes burning into your skin as you head back upstairs, and it isn’t until you are safely back in your bedroom, sagging against the closed door, that you can finally breathe properly again.
///
You end up departing for the party nearly twenty minutes after the official start time of eight o’clock, caving to Jimin’s insistence on being fashionably late. Personally, you think he just wanted the extra time to work on his hair—making sure every strand is perfectly, effortlessly tousled—and call him out on it as he locks the front door behind you.
“I didn’t spend that long on my hair,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Besides, you’re the one who needed to run back in and get your wallet. What do you even need your wallet for? We’re walking like, four blocks.”
“Better safe than sorry,” you retort. “What if I get murdered and they need to identify my body? What if I get mugged? You never know!”
Taemin falls into step beside you. “What if we need to tip a stripper?” he chimes in.
You nod and raise your hand for a high-five without taking your eyes off your brother. “Exactly! You have to tip your sex workers, Chim!”
Jimin waggles a suggestive eyebrow. “I think I’d rather give them a different ti—”
You push him off the sidewalk before he can finish speaking, pulling a face as he stumbles into the street in a fit of laughter. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you perv!”
The remainder of the short walk to Taehyung’s house passes uneventfully. Jimin doesn’t bother knocking, throwing open the door like he owns the place, and you trail after him with Taemin and Jungkook on your heels. Immediately, you’re assailed by a cacophonous sea of conversation and thumping music, people milling around in the dimly lit interior.
“There you are!” The voice comes from your left, and you barely have time to register the speaker’s face before she’s gasping and engulfing you in a hug. “{Name}, you made it! Hi!”
You laugh, squeezing her back. “Hi, Chaeyoung. It’s good to see you. Sorry I didn’t catch you at graduation.”
“Oh please,” she says, waving you off. “We have all the time in the world to catch up now. Let’s get you away from these boys and find you a drink, shall we?” Flipping a lock of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, she loops her arm through yours and begins steering you toward the kitchen. “So what are you in the mood for? The beer’s shit, so I’d stay away from anything in the cooler, but everything else is actually drinkable.”
“Shocking,” you remark, peering at the mess of bottles and cups lining the kitchen counter. There’s a massive bowl of a horrifyingly neon green concoction as well, and you take one whiff before backing away again, nose wrinkling in disgust. “I see Tae’s still making punch.”
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Chaeyoung advises. “He’s somehow managed to make it twice as sugary and three times more alcoholic than last year’s. Pretty sure it’s worse than moonshine at this point.”
You grin and locate an empty cup, raising it in her direction. “Thanks for the heads up.”
Chaeyoung refills her own drink, and you settle on a simple blend of cranberry juice and vodka. Together, you head back in the direction of the living room, where Jisoo and Lisa are chattering away on a couch in the corner. They look up at your arrival, greeting you with smiles and hugs, and quickly usher you into a seat beside them.
“So,” Jisoo begins, leaning forward. “How’s college?”
“Tell us everything,” Lisa adds, propping her chin in her palm. “Is it nice living away from home?”
Jisoo waggles her brows. “Forget that. Have you met any guys?”
Unbidden, Jungkook springs to the forefront of your mind, dark eyes staring at you from beneath equally dark hair as he leans down, down, down—
“Nope!” you blurt before your thoughts can progress any further. “I mean, I share a suite with a couple guys, but that doesn’t count.”
“Are they cute?” Lisa prods.
“They must be more mature than these high school boys,” Chaeyoung sighs.
“Hardly,” you snort. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
The gossip continues. More people arrive as the night wears on, the living room filling up with dancing bodies. A few girls you don’t know join in your conversation, perching on armrests and ottomans and the carpeted floor as a last resort. Across the hall in the dining room, you spot Taemin setting up a table for beer pong, a triumphant shout going up when Taehyung procures an unopened package of balls from somewhere in the hall closet.
“This is gonna be tournament style, got it?” he announces as he tears the package open. “Winner goes up against the undefeated champs—Jungkook and Yugyeom!”
Even from your comfy seat on the couch, you can see the arrogant twist of Jungkook’s mouth as he leans over to give Yugyeom a high-five. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way he tongues his cheek, lounging back into a chair to watch the first round of the game. Jimin steps forward alongside Taehyung, and you watch as your brother scrutinizes the pyramid of cups, poised to make a throw that lifts his shirt just enough to expose a flash of his admittedly toned abdomen.
“He wore that shirt on purpose,” Jisoo accuses, and you huff out a sound that’s more snort than laugh.
“Please, it’s just the only shirt he owns that isn’t dirty. Trust me.”
“I don’t even care,” another girl you don’t know the name of pipes up. “I’d still let him blow my back out.”
You grimace. “And on that note, I suddenly need another drink,” you announce, to giggles. Wrenching out of your cozy seat between Jisoo and Lisa, you wave your near empty cup in farewell and make your way toward the kitchen, carefully skirting around the dancers and beer pong spectators spilling out into the hallway.
The kitchen is deserted when you walk in, everyone having flocked to the dining room to watch the beer pong tournament. Humming along to the music, you open up the fridge and survey its contents, hoping to find something decent. Curiously, you pick your way past a few cans before turning a dark glass bottle around to read the label.
“Are you avoiding me, Noona?”
The voice comes from behind you, deep and sinfully resonant, and you don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s standing just inches away. His breath ruffles through the hair at the nape of your neck, sending gooseflesh prickling across your skin, and when strong hands curl gently around your hips you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.
“I missed you, y’know,” he continues, his mouth finding its way to your ear and nipping lightly at the lobe. “You didn’t talk to me all day, even though I was right there in your house. Ran like a scared little rabbit when you saw me in the kitchen, didn’t you?” Softly, his lips ghost along the column of your throat, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. “So, now what? Are you gonna run from me again?”
You don’t think you could if you tried. Your feet are rooted firmly in place, your entire body frozen as you await whatever he’ll do next. And when he urges you to spin around and face him, you obey immediately, your hands coming up to splay against his chest as he presses even closer and rewards your compliance with a kiss.
“Jungkook,” you breathe against his parted lips. “Jungkook, god.”
Slowly, he trails down your neck, leaving soft nips in his wake. “Yes, Noona?”
“We can’t,” you whisper, even as your head falls back to allow him more access to your clavicle. “Jungkook, we can’t do this.”
Your companion raises his head then, his dark gaze meeting yours. “Tell me to stop,” he says quietly. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles into the soft skin of your waist, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. “If that’s what you want, Noona, just tell me to stop and I will. I promise.”
He’s palming along your hips now. The warmth of his palms seeps into your body, rendering it increasingly difficult to concentrate. His mouth returns to your neck as he awaits your answer, and you don’t miss the way his lips curl into a smirk against the delicate skin of your collarbone when you hesitate a moment too long.
“Well, Noona?”
Fuck it. Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe, throwing all remaining remnants of caution to the wind.
Jungkook straightens up to his full height, his smirk widening. “Anything for you, princess,” he remarks before leaning down, winding one hand in your hair and finding purchase in the curve of your waist with the other. The newfound pet name ignites a tendril of heat in the pit of your belly, and when Jungkook finally closes the gap between your lips, you release a breathy moan that he eagerly swallows. The hand in your hair tightens its grip to pull you even closer, tongues and teeth clashing as he deepens the kiss.
It’s only when the need for air becomes critical that you break away from him with a gasp, your lungs aching. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his chest heaving beneath the thin white material of his t-shirt. He releases his grip on your hair, his thumb grazing across your cheek gently instead, and when he leans in to plant another kiss on your mouth, you exhale shakily. “God, Jungkook.”
His arm tightens around your waist. “What do you need, princess?” he asks, and you can’t deny your delight at his continued use of the nickname. His teeth find the lobe of your ear again, and you release a breathy moan as he delivers a particularly sharp nip to the soft flesh before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below it. “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”
You slide your hands along his broad shoulders and up to his nape, brushing the silver hoops in his ears before tangling your fingers in his silky hair. “You’re teasing me.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue and pulls away, your arms falling uselessly to your sides as he takes a step back. “I just need to hear you say it, Noona,” he chides, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. “I need to hear you say that you want this. That you want me.”
A shiver dances up your spine, and you aren’t sure whether it’s due to his wicked lilt or the sudden absence of his body heat. “I want you,” you whisper, reaching out to touch him. “Jungkook, please.”
The smirk that spreads across his face is absolutely devastating. “Then come with me,” he commands softly, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. You leave behind the thumping music and the loud chatter of the party, allowing Jungkook to pull you into one of several rooms lining the hallway and squeaking when he shuts the door and immediately pins you against it. His mouth slants across yours, hot and urgent, and you moan into the kiss as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Jungkook breathes, pulling away just enough to whisper the words against your lips. “Fuck, princess, look at this tiny little skirt you’re wearing. You’ve been killing me all night, you know that?”
He punctuates the words with another kiss, nipping harshly at your bottom lip. His hands slide down to the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he scoops you up effortlessly. “Legs around my waist,” he orders, readjusting his grip as he begins walking you further into the room.
It’s the laundry room, you realize upon closer inspection. Jungkook’s busy mouthing at your neck, but he breaks away with a smirk when he finally reaches his destination, plopping you down atop the cool metal of the washing machine. “Shame there’s nothing in here,” he remarks, kicking the side softly. “I really wanna fuck you with this thing running one day. But for now…” His smirk widens, his hands settling on your knees. “This’ll do.”
In an instant, he’s pushed up your skirt and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He drops to his knees, smoothing his hands along your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush when he urges you to spread them further. “Jungkook—“ you mumble, thoroughly embarrassed as he stares reverently at your exposed core, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Quit staring at me like that.”
“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a soft trail of kisses along your thigh. “You’re so beautiful, Noona.”
“You…”
You trail off, unsure of what to say. What do you say when your little brother’s best friend is staring at you like you’re a desert oasis and he’s been wandering, dehydrated, for days? What do you say when the scrawny neighbor kid you’d grown up with is caressing every inch of your legs, soothing the soft skin with his fingers and lips?
What do you say when you realize, once and for all, that Jeon Jungkook is undoubtedly—unabashedly—a man now?
You swallow, hard. Jungkook is nearing your core now, his hair tickling your thighs, and you gasp when he slides a finger up your slit experimentally. “You’re so wet,” he breathes. “So wet, and so—” He touches the pad of his finger to his tongue, grinning up at you as he laps up your essence. “—delicious. Fuck. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
And then he leans forward, boldly licking a stripe up the length of your entrance. Strong arms wind around your legs to hold you open, and when he shoves his face even deeper, his nose brushing against your clit, you let out a strangled whimper. “Fuck, Jungkook—”
The sound of his name draws a pleased hum from the young man nestled between your thighs, rumbling through his chest and straight to your core. Your walls clench, but Jungkook stubbornly refuses to dip his tongue inside. Instead, he teases at your folds, spreading them apart with two fingers and licking ardently at your leaking juices before kissing a short trail up to your clit. “Can you cum like this?” he asks curiously, thumbing across the sensitive bundle of nerves.
His answer comes in the form of a breathy gasp, your hips jerking upward to seek out more friction. Jungkook chuckles and obliges your silent request, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours as he begins rubbing slow circles around your bud. “Guess that’s a yes,” he murmurs, pressing yet another kiss to your thigh. His gaze remains locked on yours as he rubs a little harder, dragging your juices up from your slit and digging in deep until you are moaning aloud, your hands coming down to fist in his silky hair.
“I-I’m close,” you keen. “Please, Jungkook, please.”
Jungkook hums and leans back. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them upward, and the sudden surge of fullness is more than enough to tip you over the edge. His name escapes your lips in a garbled moan, your walls spasming around his hand as he continues teasing your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you finally whine from oversensitivity and bat him away. Obediently, he withdraws, rising to his feet so that he towers over you once more.
“Holy fuck,” he murmurs, staring down at you with an expression caught somewhere between awestruck wonder and unbridled hunger. “You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty and perfect and—” He swallows, his throat bobbing harshly. “God, I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you now, Noona? Will you let me stretch open this pretty little pussy and fill you up with my cock?”
Your breath hitches. Never in a million years could you have imagined that your brother’s mild-mannered best friend could have such a filthy mouth, but you cannot hide the way your core clenches at his words. Slowly, you raise your arms, winding them around his neck to pull him closer. “Yes,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”
A groan escapes him, deep and cavernous in a way that sends heat spiking through your veins. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, his mouth chasing after yours as one hand finds the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other slides down to the waistband of his jeans, freeing himself from the confines of the denim. He doesn’t break the kiss for a moment, even as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer. It isn’t until you’re seated on the very edge of the washing machine, wrapping your legs around his waist to steady yourself, that you pull away and let your gaze fall to his newly revealed cock. Jungkook is long and deliciously thick, and you let out a shaky breath when you see the pearlescent white drops beading at the swollen tip.
“Oh my god.” The words bubble up automatically, escaping you in an airy whisper. “How are you so big?”
Jungkook huffs out a hoarse chuckle, amusement glittering in his dark irises. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”
Your gaze falls down to his length again, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Put on a condom, and let’s find out.”
Jungkook grins and produces a little foil wrapper from somewhere in his back pocket, tearing into it with his teeth. You help him roll the condom over his cock, and as soon as it’s in place, he’s lining himself up and pushing inside you. A deep groan escapes him as he parts your walls inch by torturous inch, and you moan as your pussy is stretched to its limit, molding to his shape and sheer size. By the time he bottoms out, he’s almost prodding at your cervix, and you grab breathlessly at his bicep.
“I—I need a minute,” you gasp, your body spasming around him as you fight to adjust to the surge of fullness.
“Me too,” Jungkook rasps, his voice strained. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales deeply through his nose, cursing again when you clench around him unconsciously. “Fuck. You’re so tight.”
For a few moments, there’s only the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder. His breath is hot against the exposed skin of your clavicle, and you sigh when you feel him mouthing at the delicate skin, nipping softly before soothing across it with his tongue.
At the sound, Jungkook raises his head, dark eyes meeting yours before dropping down to where the two of you are joined. “God, you look so good like this,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “So pretty, stuffed full of my cock.”
You clench around him again—this time more purposefully. Jungkook’s mouth falls open, a silent question on the tip of his tongue, and you answer it with a deliberate roll of your hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move. Gingerly, he obeys, retreating until only the head of his erection remains inside you. His hand drops down to your clit, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks his thumb across the sensitive nub. Pleasure licks at your spine, replacing the discomfort. Jungkook lets out a pleased hum.
Slowly, he works up a rhythm, keeping his thrusts shallow as he begins rubbing circles around your clit again. With his other hand, he slides the straps of your top down your shoulders, tugging the bodice down just enough to free your breasts. Your nipples harden at the exposure, and a moan escapes you when he immediately takes one between his fingers, rolling and pinching at the peak. The additional stimulation, paired with the heavy drag of his cock along your walls and his insistent thumb on your clit, has you teetering dangerously close to the edge, your tummy tensing.
“Jungkook—” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He grunts in response and picks up the pace, rolling even more fervently up into your clenching heat, and you gasp when a particularly hard thrust sends you scooting backward atop the washing machine. “Fuck! I’m close, Jungkook.”
“Me too,” he grits out. “Come on, princess, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go for me one more time—”
And with one final flick of his wrist and a thrust that’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, you come completely undone, spasming wildly around his cock. It all proves too much for Jungkook, who’s groaning right alongside you as he reaches his high, spilling into the condom. He chants your name like a prayer as his hips gradually still, and his lips seek out yours almost instinctively as his cock softens inside you. The kiss is lazy and languid, contentment settling in your veins. Jungkook wraps you up in a warm embrace, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to explore.
It isn’t until a loud cheer rises up from the front of the house that you snap out of your blissful haze. “We should get back to the party,” you mumble into the kiss, pushing against Jungkook’s chest when he only pulls you closer. “Jungkook, come on. People are gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”
“You know what else will make people suspicious? You, coming out like that.” He gestures at the skirt hiked up around your waist, a slow smirk playing at his lips as he gives you a once-over, his gaze lingering on the wet sheen streaking your inner thighs. “As much as I’m enjoying the view.”
You swat his arm. “Stop that!”
Jungkook snickers and bends down to pick up your discarded panties, swinging them around his index finger. “Stop what?”
“Oh my god, Jungkook.”
Cackling, he returns the lacy undergarment to you, watching as you pull the material up your legs. You adjust your shirt while he disposes of his condom, and when you hop off the washing machine, he offers you a hand that you gratefully accept, gripping his arm as you steady yourself on shaky legs.
“You should leave first,” you tell him, smoothing out the wrinkles in his t-shirt and relishing the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingertips. “It’ll look weird if we leave together, and I need to pee, anyway.”
Jungkook grins and catches your wrists, swooping down to plant a quick kiss on your mouth. “As you wish,” he says, offering you a playful wink.
Then he’s straightening back up to his full height, checking his pockets and running a hand through his mussed hair. You watch as he walks over to the door, putting his ear against it for a few seconds before determining that the coast is clear and slipping out into the hallway. As the door clicks shut behind him, you hear someone—you’re pretty sure it’s a drunk Yugyeom—greet him with a resounding clap on the back. “Dude, where have you been all night? We’re getting our asses handed to us. Minho and Taemin are winning.”
“Sorry, man,” Jungkook half-shouts, and you realize that he’s making sure you can hear him. “Come on. Let’s go get that crown.”
Leaning against the door, you listen as their voices recede down the hallway. You count to five, and then to ten when your thumping heart refuses to slow. At nineteen, it finally calms down—enough that you feel comfortable leaving the laundry room and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up.
There’s a massive crowd gathered in the dining room by the time you rejoin the party, and you easily slip unnoticed into the mass of people eagerly watching the final round of the beer pong tournament. Jungkook stands at the far end of the table beside Yugyeom, poised to throw.
He catches your eye at the same time he releases the ball with a flick of his wrist, a knowing smirk settling on his face as triumphant cheers break out all around you.
///
It’s well after midnight by the time the party begins to wind down. Chaeyoung and Lisa are nowhere to be found, and several other girls are lingering near the front door saying their goodbyes before heading out. You find yourself seated on the couch between Jimin and Minho, watching as the latter helps clean up by hurling beer cans at the wastebasket on the other end of the room.
“Man, no wonder you suck at pong.” Jungkook walks into the room and plops down on an end table, a faded cardboard Burger King crown sitting rakishly on his head. “Want me to show you how the champs do it?”
Minho snorts. “Fuck off, man, you barely won that second game. Besides, we totally would’ve won if Taemin hadn’t spent half the time staring at Lisa’s tits.”
Taemin, who’s perched on a corner of the coffee table, raises his hands innocently. “Hey, don’t look at me. I scored most of the points that round.”
Minho huffs irritably and tosses another can at the wastebasket, cursing when it bounces off the rim. Taehyung wanders in and picks it up, throwing it back at Minho before squeezing into the miniscule amount of space between you and Jimin on the couch.
“Jesus, Tae,” you grunt, shifting to give him more room. The movement tilts you toward Minho, smushing you against his side, and he shoots you a playful grin and a wink.
“Cozy?”
“Cozy,” you confirm with a laugh.
“Good,” he says, freeing his arm and throwing it across the back of the couch to give you a little more space. “It’s nice having you around again, Noona.”
Jungkook’s head whirls around so quickly you fear he might have given himself whiplash. His stare zeroes in on Minho’s arm, eyes narrowing at the proximity, but the other boy remains blissfully unaware as he leans back against the couch cushions. Subtly, you lean forward, trying to put some distance between your bodies.
“It’s nice to be back,” you tell him. “It feels like I missed so much, but at the same time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”
“Choi’s aim sure hasn’t changed,” Yugyeom remarks from the doorway with a handful of empty beer bottles. “Still can’t land a shot, even after all these years.” Raising a bottle, he hefts it toward the wastebasket, smirking in satisfaction when it sinks perfectly inside the can.
“And not just with pong,” Taemin goads. “How did things go with Sana again?”
Minho rolls his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk. Besides, we’d all probably stand a better chance if Jeon over there would leave some girls for the rest of us.”
“You’re just jealous because Sana likes him better than she likes you,” Taehyung says with a snicker. “Yo, Jeon! Didn’t you guys make it to third base at Jackson’s party?”
Your stomach sinks as all eyes in the room turn to Jungkook, whose eyes go wide at the sudden attention. “What?”
“Sa. Na,” Taehyung repeats, emphasizing each syllable. “Hottest girl in our year? Third base at Jackson’s? Or are you having a hard time remembering since you wound up leaving with Jihyo?”
Yugyeom chortles as he plops down onto the carpeted floor. “Fuck, man, I forgot about that. Jesus. Just last year you were still shitting yourself at the thought of talking to a girl. Who knew you secretly had so much game?”
The room is beginning to feel stifling. Every breath you take feels like you’re inhaling ash, like a volcano that has lain dormant for ages has suddenly and without warning erupted inside your chest.
He’s playing you. And even worse, it seems that this is a game he’s played before—many times, if his friends are to be believed. Your stomach turns at the thought.
From his perch on the end table, Jungkook scoffs out a stilted, staccato note. “Right. I guess any nonzero number would seem high to you guys, huh?”
Loud jeers break out from the surrounding boys, and you do your best to melt back into the couch cushions. The way you’re squished between Taehyung and Minho makes it impossible for you to find any leverage to stand, so you settle for leaning your head back and staring at the stucco ceiling, willing your heartbeat to slow. Gradually, the noise of the party fades into the background, as do the voices of your brother and his friends. It’s only when Jimin pokes your shoulder, singsonging your name, that you break out of your trance.
“What? Huh?”
“The lake house,” Jimin says, looking at you as if you’re stupid. “You down?”
You can only blink at him, repeating the words back to him dumbly. “The lake house?”
Jimin raises a brow. “Yeah, the lake house. You know, our lake house? The one we drive up to every summer? Where we’ve been vacationing since we were like, five?”
You scowl when he pinches your cheek like you’re a child again. “Yeah, I got that. What about it?”
A snort. “Jeez, have you been listening at all, Noona? We’re talking about going up there for a few days.”
“Oh,” you croak. Unwillingly, you find yourself glancing over at Jungkook, your face growing warm when you see him staring right back, his expression careful and composed. “Right.”
“You should come, Noona,” Taemin pipes up. “You’re here for the next few weeks, right? Might as well have some fun.”
“I don’t know—” you begin, but Jimin cuts you off with a raised finger and another pinch to your cheek.
“You can’t just do homework the whole time you’re here,” he says. “Come with us, Noona. Live a little.”
“It’ll help get your mind off your internship, too,” Jungkook remarks softly. “You deserve a break. Just a few days won’t hurt.”
The fact that he remembers your internship woes shouldn’t make your heart lurch. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help the way your chest swells dangerously. “Fine,” you concede, reaching over Taehyung to pinch Jimin’s cheek in retaliation. “I’ll come, I guess.”
Taehyung and Taemin cheer, and Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and squeezes you tight. “We should invite the other girls,” he points out, chuckling when you splutter for air in his ironclad grasp and try in vain to shake him off. “Don’t want it to be a total sausage fest.”
“Penis party is a much better term,” Taehyung interjects helpfully. “It’s alliterative.”
“You want alliterative? How about a cock carnival?” Jimin supplies, before doubling over in giggles.
You huff, exasperated at the ludicrous turn in conversation. “I can’t believe I’m coming with you guys.”
Minho snickers. “Title of your sex tape,” he jokes, punctuating it with a suggestive eyebrow waggle that sobers your brother up immediately. Jimin straightens up and fixes Minho with a glare, and despite your brother’s smaller stature, the older boy still shrinks back slightly.
“Dude, that’s my sister.”
Minho raises his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Automatic response. My bad.”
You just roll your eyes. “Are you twelve? God. I don’t know how the girls put up with any of you.”
Gradually, the night draws to a close. The number of people milling about dwindles, and Taehyung fiddles with his phone, letting out a satisfied hum when he finds the playlist he wants. The music transforms into something low and smooth, the soft R&B beat filling the room. You feel your eyes begin to droop.
“We should probably head home,” Jimin says, stretching his arms lazily overhead. “Noona here has to get her beauty sleep, and I don’t feel like carrying her back if she falls asleep here.”
“Shut up, Chim,” you mumble, but there’s no real bite in your tone. Jimin just chuckles and stands up, tugging on your hand until you’re on your feet as well. Jungkook straightens up too, and together, you bid farewell to the others and head for the door.
“{Name}, wait a second.”
You turn at the sound of Jisoo’s voice, tilting your head curiously as she lays a gentle hand on your arm and ushers you off to the side. “Yeah?”
Jisoo casts a furtive glance around the hallway, lowering her voice to a murmur. “I see what’s going on with Jungkook,” she whispers once she’s sure the coast is clear.
You stiffen, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you manage to find your voice again. “You… you saw us?”
She nods. “He’s been watching you all night—it’d honestly be harder not to notice. I just…” She sighs and looks around again, missing the relief that must be etched across your expression as her gaze lingers on where Jungkook and Jimin are loitering by the door. “…just be careful, okay? Jungkook—he’s changed this past year. I mean, I don’t know if all the rumors are true, but… he’s not the same guy you probably remember. He went out with Chae for a few weeks, did she tell you that?”
At your look of horror, she sighs. “Figures. She hides it well, but I know she’s still torn up about how he ended it after they slept together. So watch out for him, okay? He’s a heartbreaker. And he never, ever stays until the morning.”
Every word that leaves her mouth stings, but you don’t let that show on your face. Instead, you force a smile and pat her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell her. “I’m not going to get involved with him.”
You repeat that to yourself the whole way home, trying not to focus on the young man a few paces away and the way you can still taste him on your tongue.
#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fic#bts#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#bts imagines#brother's best friend!au#lia writes
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Magic
For Maribat March day 16 theme magic
Master List
“50 bucks says she is,” Dick walked in on Jason saying, “there is no way she’s with Demon Spawn otherwise.”
“I agree with Jason, there’s no way she isn’t.” Tim agreed.
“So how much are you betting Tim?” Babs questioned, getting ready to write it down.
“20 bucks.”
“What are you guys betting about?” Dick interrupted.
“If Marinette is magic or not.” Steph responded.
“Why?” Dick asked.
“Cause there is no way that she’s not magic if she is able to not only hang around Damian but date him!” Jason accused.
“We really shouldn’t be betting on this sort of thing.” Dick tried, and failed, to reason.
“Too late,” Duke spoke up, “30 bucks says she isn’t magic.”
Dick sighed, “What has everyone else betted?”
“I’m keeping track so I’m not betting.” Babs clarified, “Steph betted 20 bucks that she isn’t magic, Duke just betted 30 bucks that she also isn’t, Tim betted 20 bucks she is, Jason betted 50 bucks she is, and Cass and you haven’t betted yet.”
Cass then signed, “I bet 20 bucks that she is magic, just not in the way we think.” Leave it to Cass to be that cryptid.
“I’ll bet 10 bucks she isn’t, why not.” Dick finally gave up his internal struggle, yeah it wasn’t nice betting on his little brother’s girlfriend, but hey there was no way she was magic.
-
“I still can’t believe you’re magic.” Damian admitted.
“Well technically I’m not magic. I just wield magical jewels that house tiny gods.” Marinette corrected.
“Is there really a difference?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him.
“Yes, yes there is.” She replied, cuddling closer and leaning into him.
“Are you sure you parents are gone?” He questioned, Jagged and Penny claimed that they had business they needed to do but he wouldn’t put it past them to lie and spy on them.
“Yes they trust me because I’m responsible. Plus it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, just cuddling.”
“YOU BETTER NOT BE DOING ANYTHING OTHER THAN CUDDLING!” Stompp shouted from the other room. If they had to guess, the other kwamis were stopping him from barging into the room they were currently in.
“WE’RE NOT STOMPP! YOU CAN STOP BEING SO PROTECTIVE!” Marinette yelled back.
“More like paranoid.” Damian muttered.
“Like you can say that.” Marinette laughed.
Damian tried to scowl but couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. While she may not have believed it, she truly was magic. To him at least.
“So does your family know yet?” She asked once she stopped laughing.
“No, they have no clue.”
“Really, we’ve been together for a year. Shouldn’t they know by now?”
“They started a bet on whether you’re magic or not. If that counts.”
“They did not!” She broke into another giggle fit.
“They did.” He smiled at her as she grinned up at him.
“Oh the chaos that will come from this.”
“Don’t let Plagg let hear you say that.”
“You’re scared of what might happen if we ever teamed up.”
“I am very scared.”
“As you should be.” She looked like she was having a very serious internal battle as she tried not to laugh.
“So are you still coming over this Saturday?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”
-
Marinette enjoyed these dinners at Wayne manor. Dinner with her bio parents usually consisted of silence and conversations about the bakery or school. Dinner with her adopted parents consisted of Jagged doing or claiming he did something that Penny wouldn’t approve of then him getting scolded. Sometimes she would add in her own disappointed face. But dinners at Wayne manor were different.
Because there were so many people there was so much going on at once. Different conversations somehow managed to flow smoothly and they managed to jump from topic to topic like lightning. Yet when something interesting was brought up they all managed to stop and listen before continuing their other conversations.
They were all so different but they managed to get along so well (most of the time). In a way they reminded her of the kwami. While it was a weird comparison it made sense in her head. All the kwami were different, different personalities, opinions, and views of the world. But at the end of the day they were still a family.
“Hey Pixie!” Jason called from across the table.
She quickly swallowed her food and replied, “Yeah!”
“Where’d your nose ring go? I haven’t seen you wear it in a while.”
“Oh I stopped wearing it. The side effects were so annoying and I just didn’t see the point anymore.”
“Wait what side effects?” Dick asked, “You weren’t allergic to the material or anything were you?”
“No, but the magic part of it was tiring to try to keep under control.” Marinette was met with silence. She was very much aware of the chaos she was unleashing and she couldn’t wait.
It was Cass that ended up breaking the silence, a small grin on her face, “Pay up.”
“Wait, I betted that she was magic too!” Jason shouted.
“Yeah, but Cass said she was magic not in the way we think. So technically she wins the bet.” Babs observed.
“We really should stop betting.” Duke mused, pulling 30 bucks from his wallet and handing it to Cass.
“Marinette, what do you mean that the magic became too tiring to keep under control?” Tim questioned.
“And Damian did you know?” Steph butted in.
“Yes I did know.” Damian answered.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dick asked, placing a hand to his heart to show how betrayed he felt.
“Because Stompp gave him the shovel talk once he found out.” Marinette giggled.
“Stompp?” Duke repeated.
“Yeah my kwami at the time. His miraculous is the nose ring I used to wear.”
“Kwami? Miraculous?” Bruce finally decided to add into the conversation.
“Oh yeah. This is gonna be a long explanation.” Marinette chuckled to herself, Damian let a small smile onto his face before replacing it with a scowl.
“Wait, I wanna know about the shovel talk Damian got?” Jason interrupted.
“Why is this Stompp called a kwami and why is your nose ring a miraculous and why is Stompp connected to it?” Tim voiced.
“Okay how about I start at the beginning.” Marinette reasoned to the agreement of the family.
“Which beginning?” Damian smirked, much to the confusion of his family.
“I’ll start at the very beginning.” Marinette smirked back at him before launching into her story. Needless to say it was a long night.
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Oh my god I’m so sorry I was late. If you didn’t see my post from yesterday I was supposed to post this yesterday but life kinda hit me with a train. Then burned down the hospital I was in and sent me to hell. Life hasn’t been to great. But here I am with the final part to this mini series. It’s no masterpiece but its something and I promised I would post today. Thank you for all of the support I’ve been getting! All of those who like, comment, and reblog, I’m thanking all of you. Honestly seeing that so many people like what I’m doing is one of the only motivation factors I’ve got going, so again thank you! Tagging all the people that commented on part 2 which you can find in my Master List. It will be Maribat March day 6 and 12. If you want me to link parts 1 and 2 ask me. I didn’t want to at first because I’m lazy but if you want me too I can.
@maribatmarch-2k21 @lunarwolfspn @myazael @birdiesthings @northernbluetongue @thecaptainthunder
#maribatmarch2021#maribat#maribat march#magic#daminette#final part#final part to ox miraculous marinette#hope u enjoyed#part 1 was day 6 miraculous side effects#part 2 was day 12 second chance#find those in my master list#sorry for posting late!#ill do better
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Hi there! I was hoping you could give me some advice for making background images for themes. I've been tinkering for the past couple of hours with your "The Single Flower" theme but nothing I've put together seems to work. Is there some kind of format you follow? Thank you in advance :)
Hello! I can definitely try to give some advice and tips on how I personally go forward making backgrounds for my blogs. This is just my personal way of doing it, so obviously, feel free to be as creative as you want with this and not follow any and / or all of these tips if you’d rather just be inspired by them! Also, I use Photoshop, but I’m sure a lot of these tips can be used for non-photoshop users too! I’ll put this under the cut to make this post less long on the dash.
1) So first, I try to find a PSD I enjoy that I can slap on top. I’d usually go with one that you use for your icons, or one that is similar to the one you use for your icons, if you use psds on icons. There are a ton of free psds out there than you can use, if you search up “icon psd” on tumblr, or “icon psd” on tumblr. You can also try looking up similar searches like “coloring psd” etc.
2) When you’ve found a PSD you like, it’s time to make the actual background. I personally like to keep the size of the background a little on the bigger side, so that those with larger screens doesn’t get a cut off image or large parts of your blog just a single plain background color. So I tend to use the size 1920x1080px.
3) If you have a single muse, which I’m assuming since you’re using the single muse theme, you might want an image of your muse on your background. In order to make it look neat, it’s a good idea to go to google images and look up images either of the character name, if they’re a canon character, or their faceclaim / actor’s name, if they’re an oc. For example, let’s say I want to make a background for a muse using Jensen Ackles as a faceclaim. I’d search up either “Dean Winchester wallpaper”, “Dean Winchester background” or “Jensen Ackles photoshoot”. After searching, I’d also further click on “Tools” > “Size” > “Large” like in the image below.
4) Test around with some of the images which ones look best with the PSD you’re using and has the look you want. For my example, I used THIS psd by venuscommissions, and my background would now look like this:
You want to remember that you’re also going to have the container box of your posts on this blog, so you’ll want to make space for that. To know if you have placed your image in the right spot, you can always print screen your theme without a background, copy-paste it into photoshop, above your background, then choose “lighten” on the layer with the container, as in the image below. (remember to delete this layer when you’re finished making the background! It’s just gonna be there for reference to make sure everything is positioned right!)
As you can see, I decided to move the background image with Jensen a little bit more to the left.
5) Still, the background image looks very plain, doesn’t it? Maybe you want a bit more effects on it. Google images are again super helpful here. I personally tend to search up things like “Beautiful light black background”, “Colorful light dark background”, “Golden sparkles, black background”, “Flowers dark background”, etc. The reason I add “Dark background” to all my searches, is because when I copy-paste them over the image of my muse’s FC, I do the “Lighten” thing like I did with the container, so the black on the background goes away. This way, with the right images, you can make really cool effects. For my example, I messed around with two simple images, and got this effect:
Now, obviously, I could probably spend a lot more time adjusting, and finding different images to use that look a lot better, but that’s basically the gist of it.
6) Now lastly, the thing I do when I’ve made everything the way I want it to look, is I go over the edges on the right and bottom with the soft paint brush, using the background color to paint over the edges, so there’s no color at the very edge and it gets a smooth transition from the colors to the plain, background color. This way, for those with a different sized screen, it won’t just have this strong, cut off line from where your background image is, to where the blog background color is.
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New Days
Rymin Week Day 4: Off the Train
1 2 5 6 7
Ao3
~
Contrary to popular belief (his parents), Min-Gi is not a morning person.
He’d trained himself into getting up and going to bed early, first at his parents’ insistence, then as a necessary skill for all the classes he was taking in high school (Gotta make that college application shine!). Yet given the choice, he would happily stay up all night and wake up extremely late.
On the train, all of Min’s obligations and restrictions suddenly vanished. Although his schedule was primarily dictated by not dying, which led him to sleep and wake up at odd hours (and telling time on the train is a complicated task anyways), he started sleeping in later and later. Now that he’s off the train, and most of his days consist of driving, songwriting, and practicing, he’s free to wake up as late as he wishes.
It’s why he finds himself slowly slipping into the world of wakefulness one unassuming Thursday morning. The van is already moving, as per usual - Ryan doesn’t mind the quiet mornings as Min sleeps away. Golden rays of sunlight peak through the van’s windows.
In the driver’s seat, Ryan is spotlighted in one. The sun’s brilliant hues turn his brown hair into shades of tree bark and make his soft skin glow. He’s beautiful.
Ryan is a morning person, in contrast to Min, but he would very much like to be a night person. They’ve spent ages lamenting the fateful injustice. Unlike Min, who used to force himself to go to bed early even if it meant lying awake in the dark for hours, Ryan chooses to just run on little sleep. He’d go out and party and/or perform all night, crash for a few hours, and wake up at his usual time.
He’s been getting better, though. Just like Min, they’ve both been making bounds of progress now that they’re off the train and free from restrictions. Every time Ryan goes to bed at a decent hour, it eases the worry in Min’s heart.
They’re both doing so much better now. Min never thought he’d be grateful for getting spontaneously kidnapped by a magical death train, but he and Ryan are so much happier now than they’d ever thought they’d be.
Ryan glances over, smiling fondly. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”
It’s a running joke between them, one that started way back on the train with Kez, but Min’s heart never fails to make a little jump whenever Ryan calls him beauty.
“Morning,” Min replies, stretching. He digs around in a bag at his feet. “Did you move the songbook?”
“Yeah, I was working on it earlier,” Ryan says. He jerks a thumb behind him without taking his eyes off the road. “I left some new lyrics and chords for you to look over.”
Min smiles. “Thanks.” Following Ryan’s directions, he grabs the songbook, a blue pencil, and his coveted mini-synth. Items in hand, he carefully slips into the passenger’s seat and buckles up.
Ryan shoots him a quick grin and turns his music off so Min can write.
For the next few hours, they stay as they are - Ryan keeps them on track to their next gig, while Min tackles the lines Ryan wrote earlier. It was a bit of a learning curve, figuring out how to write songs together, when they first started out. Ryan only knew chords and tablature, while Min only knew notated music from his viola days. Now, though, a couple months into their journey, they’ve worked out a good system. Whoever comes up with lyrics or a melody first (usually lyrics, and usually Ryan) will pen it along with any chords or notes they can think of. The other will look it over, edit it, and add the missing element. It usually makes for a solid first draft.
Min twirls the pencil in his hand. Blue. His favorite color. Ryan usually writes in a red pencil, from a set of colored pencils he stole from his younger brother before leaving. It makes contributions easy to distinguish when writing and editing.
Every so often, while Min looks over Ryan’s ideas, he’ll pull out his mini-synth and tap out a melody. Both of them find it easier to create melodies with an instrument in hand. Min may not play his mini-synth on stage like Ryan plays his guitar, but it still makes him happy to play it regularly. Not as a toy, not as something he has to hide from his boss and his parents, but as a genuine instrument.
As he writes and plays, Ryan listens. He keeps his attention on the road and map, but chimes in every so often with little affirmations and suggestions.
“Is that a D?” Ryan muses. “Under a G?”
Min thumbs the corner of the page. “Yeah, I think it sounds cool. Thoughts?”
Ryan graces him with a patented Ryan Akagi grin, all teeth. “I like it! I’ll look it over when you drive.” Ryan squeezes his fists on the steering wheel. “I’m really glad we’re working together, Min. This is way better than anything I’ve written solo.”
Min ducks his head, cheeks flushing. “Oh- Uh- I like writing with you too,” he replies. “
--
In the afternoon, they pull over and Min takes the wheel. Sometimes at this time they stop for food - they’ve made it their mission to catalogue all the small restaurants across Canada and America on the way to New York for future reference. But today Ryan got a late start on driving because he was songwriting (“Inspiration strikes when it strikes, Min! Who am I to deny my muses?” Never mind that Ryan is uncharacteristically close-lipped about what/who said muses even are), so they eat separately in the car. They step out to stretch for a minute, and Min hands over the songbook and food. Then they’re off again.
Ryan makes a few more edits with his red pencil, but they always collaborate on the second pass. At both of their insistence, they have to wait until one of them isn’t driving to truly discuss it. Min thought he might have to put his foot down on this, but Ryan was insistent - he’s an experienced driver and knows far to well just how dangerous and difficult driving is.
The afternoon passes without much fanfare. Min keeps his eyes on the road while Ryan edits and eventually breaks out his guitar. The highway is long, flat, and unassuming. Few other cars pass them.
It’s for that exact reason Ryan gets an idea that is both brilliant and stupid.
“Min. Min. Minminminminminmi-”
“What.” A feeling of dread washes over Min before the words are even out of Ryan’s mouth.
Ryan grins toothily at him. “I’m gonna stick my head out the window.”
Min chokes on air., surprised. “Wh- Ryan. Why would you want to do that? Didn’t you have enough thrills on the death train?”
“Eh,” Ryan says, shrugging. “I’ve always wanted to do it, but i couldn’t exactly do it while driving when I was touring alone. Besides, my parents would never let me.”
“For good reason,” Min grumbles, but in his gut he knows Ryan’s already won.
Ryan frowns at him. “Look, I’m not stupid. I’ll be careful. I won’t lean so far out of the car that I’ll fall. I’ll come back in if there are more cars or it looks like I might hit something.”
“Or if we start turning,” Min warns.
Ryan’s replying smile is blinding. “Does that mean it’s a yes from you?”
Min rolls his eyes. “Just try not to die. If I show up to the venue with only half the band, the manager won’t be happy with me.”
“Yes!” Ryan punches his fist in the air and dances triumphantly - or, he dances as much as one can while sitting in the seat of a moving van.
Ryan rolls down the window and sticks his head out. He’s crouching on the seat, half-standing, in order to fully fit through the window. His upper body is out of the car. His arms wave and flail, making his jacket sleeves flutter even more violently in the wind.
Min starts to shout a warning, to yell about safety precautions, to give into the panic in his heart and yell get down, but the words die in his throat the minute he lays eyes on Ryan’s face.
Ryan is joyful. Euphoric. Happy. He has always been a smiley person, but times where he is truly, unadulteredly happy are rarer than you’d think. Here, riding half-outside of the van while they drive to their fame and dreams, he seems truly free.
Min smiles. God, he loves that man.
Ryan glances back, the light reflecting off his glasses, and flashes Min an adrenaline-fueled grin and a shaky thumbs up. His ankles wobble a bit. Before Min realizes what he’s doing, he reaches out and grabs Ryan for support.
Ryan’s mouth drops open in a small ‘o’. Min moves to take his hand back, but before he can, Ryan twists and reaches back inside the car to grab Min’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
Min freezes.
Ryan is smiling, more bashful and careful now than before. He’s still happy, but… nervous? Anxious?
Min’s heart flutters. He manages to smile back.
“I got you,” he says, although it comes out as a whisper.
“O-oh,” Ryan whispers. His eyes are wide and soft. “I… thank you, Min.”
Min ducks his head awkwardly. “You’re welcome.”
The rest of the drive is quiet. It’s not awkward, but it’s not as comfortable and natural as it usually would be.
Something has changed.
Min grips the wheel tighter and stares down the road, for a lack of real target. If looks could kill, the road would be up in flames.
It’s… confusing. He’s not sure why a change in their dynamic is so upsetting and off-putting. He and Ryan have gone through so many changes over the years, and they’ve always been able to come back to themselves in the end.
Besides, it’s not like they had an argument. Or even a misunderstanding. All they did was hold onto each other to keep balance. Why does this feel so monumental?
Min chances a glance away from the road to look at Ryan. He’s curled up in the passenger seat (because Ryan seems incapable of sitting normally when he’s not driving) with his guitar. The songbook, flipped open to their latest draft, is balanced precariously on Ryan’s knee. He’s bent over to read it accurately, which must be difficult, especially in the dim light. But he seems to be managing. He’s humming softly to himself, almost too quiet for Min to catch it. As he’s focused on the road (no matter how much he wants to listen to Ryan’s ethereal yet natural and homey singing) the melody floats in and out of focus. Ryan is also plucking at his guitar, playing mostly individual notes instead of chords. It’s calming and comforting, not to mention beautiful. If Min weren’t driving, he might just fall right asleep. Even though he’s the one playing, Ryan seems drowsy as well, judging by the way he’s leaning against the back of the seat.
As they draw closer to their destination, Ryan seems to consciously shake himself into wakefulness. He sits up and puts the songbook away to focus fully on his guitar. As Min pulls off the highway and navigates the city streets, Ryan tunes his guitar and warms up.
They run through a couple vocal exercises together, practicing harmonies and lyrics as well as warm-ups. Min is a bit shaky since he’s focused on the road, but he and Ryan know their songs by heart, and the warm-up does the job. He’s still a bit jittery as he pulls into the venue parking lot, but that’s normal. He hasn’t quite shaken his stage fright yet, but as long as he has Ryan at his side, he’s able to perform. More than that, he has fun performing.
Besides, Ryan confided in him a while back, before their first real show. “You’re not the only one with stage fright, Min,” he’d confessed. “Yeah, I love it, and the adrenaline basically cancels out the fear, but it’s still there. You just have to go for it.”
Min had felt comforted enough to perform with that, with the admission that even the seemingly-fearless Ryan Akagi, who’d always seemed more at home on a stage than at his actual home got stage fright. But then Ryan had hesitated, glanced down, and taken Min’s hand. Min’s heart had nearly stuttered to a stop in his chest. He almost missed what Ryan said next.
“Besides, it doesn’t matter if you get stage fright or not,” Ryan had said cheerfully, too cheerfully, although Min barely noticed. “All that really matters is if you enjoy what you’re doing. It’s more admirable to conquer your fear in order to chase your dreams than to not have fear.”
Min had smiled back, shaky but euphoric. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, not unlike how he felt onstage. “That’s very profound.”
Ryan had laughed and squeezed his hand. “Eh, I have a lot of experience. Listen to me, I’m the master!”
The mood subtly shifted with the joke, and suddenly they were laughing and Ryan let go of his hand and they were pushing the synthesizer on stage and it was all a blur from there until the curtain went down and Ryan was squealing and hugging him and picking him up and screaming We did it! You did it!
What a first show.
Min shakes himself back to reality and pulls into the venue parking lot. Ryan jumps out of the van before Min is fully parked, despite Min’s loud protests. He rolls his eyes and lets Ryan run ahead anyway.
While Ryan gets checked in with the manager, Min parks and unloads Barold and the rest of their equipment (which is pretty much just Barold now, since Ryan took his guitar with him in his haste). He heads inside, he and Ryan set up, and then they’re standing onstage behind a lowered curtain, waiting in darkness and silence for their cue.
Suddenly, Ryan turns around and flashes Min a thumbs-up and a bright smile. It’s more jerky and jittery than usual, probably because of the nerves and adrenaline. He seems a little more on edge today, though.
“We’re gonna do great!” Ryan promises, grinning.
Min smiles back. “We’re gonna do rad,” he replies. The tension between them dissipates, and the curtain goes up. Ryan turns toward the crowd, beaming his particular I’m-on-stage-but-I’m-really-enjoying-myself smile, and greets them. The crowd goes wild.
Energy floods Min’s body, and he grins back at the crowd. Ryan counts them off, and they burst into their opening number with the power and passion it requires. The crowd screams, but Min can barely hear them over the music and Ryan’s voice.
He’s living. Far more than he ever was before.
They both are.
--
After the show is a blur of chatting with audience members, grabbing something to eat, and scheduling another show. By the time they head to the hotel, Min’s exhausted. But he dutifully puts all the equipment in their hotel room and locks up the van before he collapses into bed.
Ryan is already in their room when Min comes in. He’s sitting on the bed, facing away from the door, with his hands on his lap. Most striking is the absence of his guitar. Ryan may have been playing all day, but it’s rare for him to be without his instrument and yet so still like this.
Ryan, to his core, is always moving. Even when he’s not physically moving, he’s always singing, humming, thinking. Yet now, he sits in absolute stillness.
“Ryan?” Min whispers. His voice is quieter than he intended, but Ryan jumps at it all the same.
When he turns, he’s smiling disarmingly, but it’s too wide and shaky to be natural. Ryan may have convinced someone else with that expression, but Min knows him too well to be fooled.
Min strides into the room with three short steps, locking the door behind him. He stops in front of Ryan, so close their knees are almost brushing. Ryan blushes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I- Nothing.” Ryan won’t meet his gaze.
Min scowls. “Come on, Ryan. Aren’t we past this? Didn’t the train teach us not to do all this not-talking crap?”
Ryan flinches. “I- Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m just… thinking.”
“About what?” Min finally moves, stepping around Ryan to sit on the bed beside him. He takes care to keep his voice soft and gentle. He doesn’t want to scare Ryan again. Whatever’s going on seems to have him skittish all of a sudden.
Ryan bites his lip. “Min, I… you know I care about you, right?”
Min blinks, surprised. “Of course I do.” Hesitantly, he reaches out to take Ryan’s hand, running his thumb over Ryan’s knuckles. “I care about you too.”
Ryan blushes. His cheeks are nearly scarlet right now. Min’s a bit too tired to unpack that all on his own right now, but he knows it means something. It spurs him on, gives him a burst of courage and energy in the adrenaline crash phase after a show. “I’m glad we’re-” He’s about to say friends, but the word dies on his lips. Suddenly, it feels all wrong, but he can’t put his finger on why.
Slowly, Ryan turns to face him. His eyes are wide and anxious, his lips slightly parted, but there’s a set determination in him that shows in his face. He reaches out to take Min’s other hand, and… leans in closer.
Min finds himself leaning in simultaneously. Soon they’re close enough Min can feel Ryan’s breath on his lips. It’s hot in more ways than one.
Oh. Oh.
So that’s why today, Ryan’s hand on his wrist, the trusting and yet shocked expression of his, felt so weird and so right at the same time.
Their eyes meet. A silent exchange passes between them.
Do you want to do this?
Yes. Do you?
Yes.
If asked after, Min couldn’t say if he initiated it or if Ryan did.
All he knows is the gap between them is now nonexistent, and Ryan’s lips are on his, and suddenly it’s everything he’s ever wanted.
The kiss is slow. Hesitant. Exploring new territory, figuring out boundaries. But it’s not awkward.
No, they are Ryan and Min, Min and Ryan, Chicken Choice Judy, and they have come much too far to be awkward. They’ve been building towards this moment since they first met, even if they didn’t know it.
It feels like a found puzzle piece of himself Min didn’t even realize he was missing. Now, he is complete. Now, they are complete.
Now, they are both truly living their lives to the fullest.
~
this fic is just: *headcanon* *headcanon* *headcanon* *hea-
oh man i almost didn't finish this one in time. it's still the 12th here, though (by a couple hours!), so i'm good! it's hard to write a full one-shot every day, but i've already come farther than i thought i would! i told myself i would finish this today, and i did! i also told myself i would finish the week and my remaining prompts, and i will. :)
title is from new days by dreamcatcher. that's the second time i've used it as a title but the last one was for a zine fic so i can get away with using it here, lol. i really love that song, so that's why. the lyrics translation are absolutely nothing like this, but for some reason it gives off road trip vibes (at least to me), so it works really well for this particular piece!
okay confession time: i think this is the first kiss scene i've ever written lol. i was writing it and i was like "hey wait a minute i have no clue what i'm doing have i done this before??? i don't think so???" it didn't help that i didn't intend to write a kiss scene, but i got to the place where i'd intended to end it and it felt like the natural progression. i'm gonna go research good kiss writing after this. i would've done it while i was writing, but i didn't want to post this any later than i had to
i have a bunch of infinity train snippets and wips i wrote right after book 4 aired and my interest in the show peaked, and i really thought i had something that would fit well for off the train but i guess i didn't?? maybe i just daydreamed it and never actually penned it skfhksl. so i was kind of flying by the seat of my pants for this one. i think it's my favorite of rymin week so far though! it was also the most fun to write. i really love introspective pieces. ryan and min off the train, after their relationship is repaired, when they're in a much better place and truly happy with each other, is also my favorite time in their lives to explore. they're so much happier and healthier, and they can truly start to explore themselves and realize their dreams.
if you have a piano or something on hand you should play the d and g notes together. they sound heavenly. in choir two years ago we had that chord and i have never forgotten it because i love it so much.
if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a reblog/like/comment if you enjoyed it!
@ryminweek
#infinity train#rymin#rymin week 2021#rymin week#ryminweek2021#ryan akagi#min-gi park#min gi park#mingi park#wavey writes#infinity train fanfiction#infinity train ryan#infinity train rymin#infinity train min#infinity train min-gi#infinity train mingi#infinity train min gi#ryan infinity train#min infinity train#min-gi infinity train#min gi infinity train#ryan x min
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The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe
Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco
The tricky thing is yesterday we were just children
But now we've stepped into a cruel world
Where everybody stands and keeps score
So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard
Every lesson forms a new scar
They never thought you'd make it this far
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Summary: Planning for something in theory is easy... putting it into practice? That’s where the weak are separated from the strong.
A/n: Hello my lovelies! So here is the second part to the last chapter!! If I had posted it all at once it would have been over 20k words so... yeah. I split them up. Also, this gets pretty dark and well, we all know how HBP ends... so I guess that’s a warning. And to add, this went in a completely different direction than I planned, but now it’s closer to my original idea so... Let me know what you guys think! Seriously, I thrive on your approval. (Also, I’d like to see if someone notices a MAJOR problem for these two kids... because I barely caught it myself)
“Oh, my darling boy,” Narcissa crooned, nearing Draco’s bedside. She took his hand though he was in a spell induced coma and could not hear her.
“I’m so sorry Narcissa,” I teared up. “I...”
“Snape explained it all my dear,” She consoled, reaching out for me. “You have nothing to apologize for,”
I all but collapsed in her arms, breaking down into tears as she held me. Though Abby and Pansy—as well as many others including Ernie, Blaise, Greg, Vincent, and Hannah—had comforted me and offered me a solace, it was different having a mother there to hold me and tell me it was going to be alright.
“It was awful,” I sniveled. “I thought... I thought...” I began to hiccup with the lack of oxygen due to my tears.
Narcissa shushed me softly and rubbed my back in a soothing rhythm.
“You’re alright darling,” Her voice was gentle. “Everything’s going to be alright,”
She stayed for the remainder of the night and came back the next day. I was only allowed a day off from classes before I had to return though Draco had still not woken. Though I knew there would be rumors and whispers, and though I expected to have to retell the harrowing story again and again, everyone already seemed to know. And more surprisingly, each student I came across was sympathetic and kind to me and even towards Draco, wanting to know how he was faring. Yet the thing that took me back the most was the amount of Gryffindors who offered their sympathies to Draco, rather than siding with their own Golden Boy. Even McGonagall offered her sympathies.
And for the most part, I completely ignored Harry. The best I could. Which... well. I’d like to say that I did, but I can’t. To be fair, he did try to talk to me on my first day back, two days after his attempted murder.
“Y/n,” He rushed out in the Great Hall as I sat down with Pansy and Abby.
“You need to stay away from me,” I gritted out, glowering at him. “You’re a coward!”
“Look, I didn’t know what the spell would do, okay?”
“No! That’s not okay!” I stood. “You almost killed him! And you would have! Why in Merlin’s name would you use a spell if you didn’t know what it did!?” Bristling, Abby had to place her hand on my arm before I drew my own wand. Her gentle hand allowed me a moment to take a deep breath and cam myself, ever so slightly. “Just get out of here Harry. Don’t... don’t talk to me,”
“Come on, mate, let’s go,” Ron pulled Harry’s arm back, sensing the rising tension in his best friend.
“You’re... you’re not really going to...” Abby asked softly as we sat back down. “About being the bad guy?” She was almost timid to ask.
I sighed and shook my head.
“No,” I admitted. “I just said it because I was mad and scared. I’m not gonna go off and join the Dark Lord,” a sad smile played at my lips. “I... I feel like I have no choice... This path was forced into me because of Precious Potter and I... I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to be broken... but I don’t want to be walked on,”
“And you don’t have to be,” Pansy encouraged. “We all have your back,” Pansy nodded to the Hall. “We’re on your side,”
“I don’t want there to be sides!” I dismayed, scrubbing my face. “I don’t want to be divided because we still do have the same enemy and...” I let out a sharp breath in defeat. “When did it all become so complicated?”
Abby said nothing but wrapped an arm around me, soothingly rubbing my shoulder.
“It’ll all work out, you’ll see,” She encouraged, sharing a look with Pansy. “For all of us.”
After dinner, as I always did, I went and saw Draco. His steady grey eyes trailed me as I rounded his cot.
“Hey,” He offered softly as I slipped my hand into his. Despite his many blankets and long sleeves, his hands were still ice cold.
“Hey,” I echoed sadly. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” There was little confidence in his voice. “How’s class without me?” I scoffed and stared at the intricate carvings on the pillars of the infirmary.
“It’s not the same... nothing is the same...” The depressing thought left my lips before I could stop it. “I do miss walking to class with you though,” A small smile played at my lips at my gaze returned to him.
Wordlessly I reached out and brushed a few stray hairs from his face, my fingers ghosting over the pale pink scar that ran along the side of his face. Maybe fortune was on our side because though his skin was marred with scars, the spell hadn’t left permanent damage to his senses. His skin was still chilled under my touch.
“You’re still cold,” I murmured. “Do you want tea? Another blanket? I’m sure there’s a warming potion around here somewhere,”
“I’m alright,” His lips tugged upward. “Pomfrey and Snape said that it might happen, because of the Dark Magic...”
Worrying my lip, I nodded and intertwined my fingers with his pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.
“What’s on your mind?” His question was soft.
“Nothing and everything,” I smiled. “Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing... but loved most of all, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music...”
“Haven’t read that one in a while,” Draco mused softly. “I think they’re having a show in London over the summer holiday...”
I wanted to snap at him. I wanted to say that it was stupid to think about the summer. It was foolish to think we’d survive the semester. That going to the opera shouldn’t be a plan we made on some false hope that we’d actually make it.
But I didn’t.
Instead I entertained the idea. Just for a while. Even if it would hurt later.
“You’d take me then?” I mused.
“Well, of course,” Draco smiled, enjoying that I was playing along. “Of course, Pansy and Abby would come with us,”
I laughed softly at the thought. The false memory of the four of us in some opera house amidst twinkling lights, dressed lavishly, laughing and having fun. I could see myself on Draco’s arm as he held his head high, smiling soft at my antics. I could almost hear Pansy scolding Abby for her poor etiquette. I could almost feel the thrum of the music in my soul and the magic of the performance before me as I was enraptured again by another story.
“I’d like that,” I whispered softly, tears stinging my eyes.
“Then think of it done,”
A silence fell between us.
“Can I stay here tonight?” I asked softly.
“Would you expect me to say anything but yes?” He quirked an eyebrow.
Curled up in his arms, again I thought of everything and nothing, utterly exhausted—mentally, emotionally, physically. Draco still offered a sweet comfort that I had never found in anyone else. A comfort that quelled my anxieties and allowed me to sleep soundly.
“Told you she would be here,” I heard Pansy whisper harshly. “It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve done it,”
“Yes, yes, you’re so smart,” Abby said flatly. “They’re still precious, aren’t they? Even now,”
There wasn’t a response. I shifted through my sleep logged thoughts and blinked my eyes open. Draco was still fast asleep beside me, his mouth hanging slightly open as gentle breaths passed through his lips. Abby and Pansy were forgotten as I watched Draco bathed I the soft morning light.
“Hey Feathers, Dumbledore wants to see you,” Abby nudged my arm. “I don’t think it’s good either.”
Fear and dread struck my heart as I froze.
“Did he say why?” I squeaked out, carefully slipping out of the bed, not to rouse Draco.
“No, just that it was a serious matter,” Abby frowned at me. “Are you okay?”
“Do you really want the answer to that?” I mumbled. “Please stay with him, tell him where I am when he wakes up. And if he tries to come and find me, make sure he doesn’t. He’s still healing,”
Timidly I made my way up to Dumbledore’s office, a list of a thousand things that could go wrong sprinting through my mind, willing them all true. Those thoughts however, changed and funneled when I saw that I wasn’t alone in his office with him. No, Harry, Snape, and McGonagall were all present along with the old headmaster.
“Miss Y/l/n, thank you for joining us,” Dumbledore smiled kindly.
“Yeah... okay,” I closed the door behind me. “What’s this about?”
“What happened in Myrtle’s bathroom,” Snape informed with a monotone voice. “Though I have thoroughly explained that what Harry did to Mr. Malfoy was much worse and you acted in self- defense,”
“Uh... okay...” My eyebrows furrowed. “What exactly did I do?”
“What did you do? You used an Unforgivable!” McGonagall dismayed.
“You tortured me!” Harry exclaimed.
“You attempted to murdered Draco!” I shot back. “What was I supposed to do!?”
“As I said, she acted in self-defense.” Snape cut the tension with his calmed voice.
“That wasn’t self-defense, that was malicious intent,” Harry growled. “You have to mean the curse for it to do any damage,”
“Oh yes, and I’m sure your use of Dark Magic is completely justified,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “And are you really going to play the victim when I have every right to loathe you?”
“Miss Y/l/n,” Dumbledore interjected. “We are not here to point fingers, but rather here the entire story. Both sides.”
“Why isn’t Sprout here?” I looked around. “She’s my Head of House... shouldn’t she be here?”
“This isn’t a House matter,” Snape clarified. “This is a matter of the Order,”
“Of which you are a member,” McGonagall finished. “Now please, your side of the story,”
My mind processed this information then I began my tale.
“Draco was having a panic attack, so I led him to the nearest quiet place that I could find—”
“Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?” McGonagall clarified and I nodded.
“I was comforting Draco—walking him through grounding and Harry burst into the bathroom. Draco got defensive of me, drawing his wand, and Harry cast a hex at the two of us... I remember telling Draco to stop... there was water everywhere. And then Harry,” I glanced over to the golden boy who was sulking in his chair. “Cast whatever awful spell that was. I didn’t think. The Unforgivable was the first spell that came to mind...” I paused, drawing in a sharp breath. “Then there was so much blood. Merlin...” I wrung my hands together in a desperate attempt to wash my clean hands of blood that was no longer there. “I did cast the spell, and I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m sorry for hurting you, but not for defending Draco,”
“I see,” Dumbledore nodded. “Well, it seems that all’s well that ends well,”
Harry and I both sputtered, glaring each other down.
“She should be going to Azkaban!” Harry exclaimed.
“Oh, you should really keep your comments to yourself Potter,” I snarled.
“If I remember correctly Mr. Potter, you also cast an Unforgivable at Bellatrix not last year,” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow at a fuming Harry who instantly fizzled out.
“You cast an Unforgivable and you have the nerve to accuse me! Oh, stars above Harry where does it end with you!?”
“That doesn’t count! She was trying to kill me! She killed Sirius!”
I stared at him in quelled anger. “Funny,” My voice was calm and even. “I could have sworn I did it for the same reasons,” I watched the color drain from his face. “But I get it, I’m not the Chosen One, I don’t get free passes, do I?”
“Miss Y/n,” McGonagall warned.
“Am I free to go? I need to get back to Draco,” I looked to Snape.
He gave a seldom and I rushed out of the office, practically running back to the hospital wing. Abby caught me in her arms, stilling me outside the door.
“Hey, talk to me,” She demanded. “What happened?”
“Harry needs to mind his own damn business,” I growled. “He told that I used an Unforgivable against him after he tried to kill Draco. After he already used one last year! And he has the nerve—”
“Y/n?” Draco’s shaky voice was a lot closer than I thought it would be. It had to mean that he was up and walking.
“Dray?” My anger softened to concern and hope. “Draco what are you doing up?”
“You could have given us more of a warning about how much he would fight us after telling him that Dumbledore wanted to speak to you,” Pansy muttered, Draco’s arm slung around her shoulder.
“Sorry?” I offered, taking Draco’s weight, freeing Pansy. “You need to stay in bed,” I scolded him softly.
“How could you think that I would? How could you just leave?” His voice was trembling and uncertain.
“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” I led him back to his cot, setting him down gently. “Forgive me?”
He nodded as I pulled the blanket back over him. Pansy and Abby aided me in getting him settled again.
“This is so stupid,” He groaned. “I should be there with you,”
“A few more days, my love,” I comforted softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Then you’ll be back beside me,”
__________________________________
Draco’s eyes met the plated silver. His reflection mocking him. His pale skin was decorated— was that the right word? Ruined, perhaps—with faded pinkish scars.
Of course, his mother had been livid. Visiting him in the hospital wing more days than not until he was medically cleared to go back to class, she was there, pacing, muttering, threatening, demanding.
Your sentiments matched his mother’s but ever since the fateful day that Harry had taken him inches from death, you had gone silent with a cold ruthless fury. A look that only faded from your eyes when they met his. Then adoration was evident. Love and dedication was evident. Kindness.
As he stared at his reflection, the phantom memory of pain danced along his skin.
“Hey there handsome,” Your gentle voice caught his attention. Catching the sight of you in the mirror he turned, leaning against the vanity.
“I don’t remember you ever calling me that before,” He mused, slightly teasing—part of him wondering if you were just saying it to make him feel better.
“I know you Draco,” You pressed off the doorjamb you were leaning against and took his hands. “Self-assured, confident, absolutely gorgeous,” A smirk hinted at your lips. “But I know you’re unsteady right now.” Gently your fingers traced the scars on his hands trailing up his arm making him shudder.
“And what of you?” He asked softly, bringing your hand to his lips pressing a kiss there softly, reveling in the warmth of your skin; something that he had lost, his skin retaining an icy chill with the dark magic that plagued it.
“What of me?” You countered softly. “I’m quite assured that I’m beautiful to those who matter to me... call it vanity,”
A chuckle escaped his lips, your words reminding him of Pansy. “No, that’s no mystery. You are stunning,” Your arms draped lazily around his shoulders as you waited for him to continue. “Are you okay? I know you, and you’ve been... I don’t know. Withdrawn? Distracted?”
He feared the anger that flashed in your eyes until you seemed to blink it away. With the fluttering of your eyelashes the ire turned to sorrow. Your shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath you took.
“I’m tired of being walked on. I’m tired of people underestimating me. Of thinking I’m harmless or weak.” You paused but then your eyes met his pleading, “I know who I am, I really do. I’m just tired of other people not seeing it.”
Draco smiled at you, reaching up and caressing your cheek delicately. “And?” He knew you had more on your mind.
“I’ve had enough of Harry thinking he can get away with anything.”
Draco nodded. Before his prejudices against Potter had been just that—prejudices. Now? Now they went so much deeper. The hurt and pain that Harry had caused to you and him was something that couldn’t be brushed off. Draco’s anger matched yours when thinking of Potter, but maybe the difference was he had never seen it from the outside looking in.
“He almost killed you Draco,” Your voice wavered. “If Snape hadn’t shown up, you would have...” Tears pricked your eyes and you quickly shut them. “I can’t... I can’t lose you... and I never want to feel helpless like that again,”
Draco cupped your face softly, your eyes meeting his as quiet streams of tears trailed down your cheeks.
“And you won’t have to, but my love,” He sighed softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead before drawing you into his arms, “I don’t want you to lose yourself... I know you’re angry, and I know you’re scared... I know you wish it would all just go away, because I do too,” He sighed deeply. “But we can’t lose focus on who we are,”
“When did you become the wise grounded one?” You pouted into his shoulder, earning a small chuckle from him.
“Some girl brought me back down to Earth,” He mused.
“Must have been some girl,” He could hear the smile in your voice.
“Oh, she’s quite wonderful, I think you’d love her. I know I do,”
“Sap,” You accused, smiling up at him.
“And yet you love me anyway,”
“I do,” You pressed up on your toes, your lips brushing against his softly.
The day that he returned to class, as expected, he got plenty of stares. Students gawking at him and whispering behind his back. Not that it was new for him. But maybe you were right—he was unsteady. You still held his hand in the halls though, and still looked at him as you would a piece of artwork. And whenever he became uncertain about his appearance your gently smile and soft kisses created phantom memories that kept him grounded.
“Ginny and Harry are together,” Hannah gave off hand one day at dinner.
Draco’s eyebrows raised in surprised. Your face soured a bit as your eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table where sure enough Harry and Ginny were sitting together amidst their friends. He pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling you a bit closer. The pout didn’t leave your face, but your focus reverted back to your friends before you.
Draco hadn’t spoken to or gone near Harry since he had been back to class. The only real struggle was Potions, but Harry seemed content on ignoring him, and with Ernie as Draco’s partner, Draco’s thoughts weren’t consumed with Harry. Ernie was actually quite pleasant in class, Draco had to admit. Though he was a bit reckless and impulsive in a childlike manor, but he wasn’t impossible for Draco to work with. In fact, Draco almost preferred to work with Ernie because Ernie didn’t treat him any differently after his near-death experience. It was a vein of normalcy.
“This should work,” You lowered your wand, running your hand over the mended Vanishing Cabinet. “We should be done,”
His eyes met yours. There was hope in your warm eyes. Draco gave a seldom nod and grabbed an apple from his bag. It was the first test. Though weeks ago, the apple had made it to Borgin and Burkes, the live finches you had sent hadn’t survived. You mourned the small birds and buried them beneath your tree by the lake.
The apple was closed behind the wardrobes doors and after counting to thirty, your hand gripped tightly in his, Draco opened the door again and saw that the apple had a slice cut out of it. You let out a steady breath and went to the golden wire cage, with gentle grace setting down the small bird into the wardrobe. You closed your eyes, refusing to watch as he closed the door this time. Thirty seconds again, he opened the door, and the small finch was there, staring up at the two of you, an apple slice in his mouth.
You let out a scream of excitement and joy as you gathered the bird into your hands and kissing its small head before setting it back in the cage to enjoy its treat.
The next was a crow, easily transfigured from a goblet. Draco ser the bird into the cabinet and closed the door yet again. The ruffling of wings faded for twenty seconds until he heard frantic cawing and agitated movements. Throwing open the door, the crow flew out. With a quick flick of your wand the crow was a goblet once more, falling harmlessly into the piles of rubbish around the two of you.
“I have to go,” You breathed out, words that he had been dreading.
“Y/n,” He refuted. “We don’t know if it’ll work for larger animals, Pinnae might not make it.”
“It worked for the crow,” You pointed out. “Pinnae can make it,”
“It’s too dangerous,”
“Draco,” You gave him a flat look. “I need to go,” You took his hands into yours. “It’ll be okay, I’ll be back. If not, I’ll just fly back here from Diagon Alley.”
“You make it sound so simple,” He nuzzled his nose to yours.
“Because it is,” You smiled, pressing your lips to his fleetingly. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
“Please be careful,” Draco dismayed as your morphed into Pinnae, fluttering into the base of the wardrobe.
Then he closed the door, trapping you in darkness. Thirty seconds had never been so long.
There was a knock on the door then it slowly opened. Your smiling face was shining as you crawled out of the cabinet.
“It works,” You breathed out, amazed.
“By Merlin it works!” Draco exclaimed, spinning you in his arms.
You laughed and held onto him tightly. The two of you celebrated with laughter that turned to tears. When the entire world seemed against you two, at least one thing went right.
“I love you,” You sniffled through tears.
“Stars, I love you too,” He breathed in the scent of you deeply, burying his head in your shoulder. “We’re gonna make it,” He was almost hopeful.
“We’re gonna make it,” You affirmed.
“Who’s there?”
You and Draco froze, staring at each other in paralyzing fear.
“Hello?” The voice called again.
You sagged and let out an aggravated groan. “It’s Trelawney,” Gritting your teeth you let go of him, sighing. “I’ll go see what she wants. You get to Snape and tell him we do this tonight.” There was fierce determination in your eyes.
Draco nodded and watched as you made your way toward the exit. He could hear your faint conversation with the professor. Giving you five minutes head start, Draco slipped from the Room of Hidden Things undetected.
“It’s done,” Draco panted out, catching his breath after nearly running to Snape’s office. “The raid has to be tonight,”
“I see,” Snape rose. “And you’re certain?”
You burst into the office just then, also out of breath. “Harry and Dumbledore are leaving to go find something called—”
“Silencio!” Snape casted the spell on you, proving you mute. Infuriated, Draco drew his wand, stepping between you and the professor. “Calm down, she’s in no harm,” Snape rolled his eyes and lifted the spell. “But be careful with what you speak. It is wise to hold your tongue.”
Fuming, you nodded still.
Draco lowered his wand and took your hand.
“Now, you both know the task ahead of you?” Snape questioned. Silent nods affirmed the question. “Very well. He will be pleased, Draco. Very pleased indeed.” Another silent moment passed. “You have twenty-three minutes.”
Draco took your hand and pulled you into the hallway and along the corridors.
“Go, find Abby. Warn your friends. Warn your house. No one needs to get hurt. We’re already doing enough damage,” His voice was soft and gentle as unshed tears lingered in his eyes.
“I love you,” Your voice broke as he cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours desperately.
The kiss was hasty and despairing. Though neither of you would admit it, you both knew that it was a kiss goodbye. The warmth of your breath against his was the last of your warmth that he expected. The urgency of your fingers in his hair was the last of your comfort that he sought. The taste of your mouth was the last of your sweetness that he accepted. The softness of your lips was the last of your peace that he pursued.
“Twenty-three minutes,” He breathed out before letting you go and heading down to the murky waters of the Slytherin Common Room.
The Mark on his arm burned and Draco knew that Snape had called the others of the raid. A plan set into motion long ago, now coming to fruition.
____________________________
“Y/n!” Abby called my name as you burst into the common room. “What’s going on?”
My friends were all gathered in the common room as Abby tossed to me something small and shiny. A galleon. My galleon. From D.A. I might have cursed.
“How does he even know?” I chucked the galleon into the fire, watching it ricochet a flurry of ashes. My eyes met Abby’s. “It’s tonight,”
She nodded, knowing what it meant, knowing what was expected of her. A plan made long ago, that was now set into motion.
“Okay, this is going to get very bad, very quickly.” My voice trembled as I looked at all of the horror-struck faces before me. “But please, I need you all to keep the younger years safe. I need you to stay out of the halls until Abby comes and gets you.”
“But what about you?” Ernie asked.
“Look, you’re going to hear things. Awful things about Draco and me. And I can’t deny them, nor should I ask for your forgiveness. But please,” Tears streamed down my face. “Believe that everything I’ve worked for... everything I’ve done has been for this family,” I looked around the room. “I don’t have much of one by blood, but you? All of you... you’ve always been my family. And Hogwarts is my home.”
Abby’s arms wrapped around me and I could no longer hold back my tears. Soon there was a massive comfort pile and I was in the center of it. My friends, my family all there, all holding me close.
“So, what do you need us to do?” Taylor asked. I wiped my eyes and stood tall.
“Someone get word to the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors that they need to stay in their dorm. You all have about fifteen minutes to be completely locked down. Cast protection spells. Silencing spells. Comfort younger years. Distract them. Do not take an order from anyone unless it’s Abby. Make sure she is not under a spell before you listen to her.” I glanced over at her. “This is a grave matter and lives are on the line tonight. One of which is mine. I don’t know what will happen tonight, but I won’t be coming back. Not for some while.”
“But why?” I didn’t see where the question came from.
“It will all be revealed soon. I love you all. And I hope that you all can forgive me after tonight. No matter what you think of me, please, don’t forget: have courage and be kind.”
They all nodded. I rushed up to my room, changing quickly into dueling robes, pulling my silver cloak on.
“Are you okay?” Abby asked, tying her hair back.
“I’ll be fine,” I drew her in for a hug. “Please just get out alive,”
“You too kid,” Abby smiled weakly, taking my hand. “Sister for life,”
“Hufflepuffs for life,” I finished, looking back one last time before taking off through the window and into the night.
With a soft thud I landed on Draco’s floor. He was expecting me. We didn’t embrace another, but instead got to work.
“The Hufflepuffs?” He asked.
“Warned and locked down. Word was sent to Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. The Slytherins?”
“Secured.” Draco affirmed. “Seven minutes,”
“Okay,” I nodded. “The Mark,”
Draco looked out his opened window and chanted something short and unfamiliar to my ears and I watched as a snake coiled from the end of his wand in a thick green smoke and into the sky merging with a skull. I took his hand, standing beside him.
“I still don’t want to kill him,” Draco confessed. “But I’ll do anything to keep you safe,”
“Draco don’t worry about me. Your mother and I have a plan if things go wrong.” It was an easy lie as I met his confused grey eyes. I smiled softly. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“The Astronomy tower,” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Go,”
I leapt out of his window again and circled the school, patrolling, watching two figures on brooms land on the tower I was destined for. The quiet night was eerily quiet as I landed, perched on a sill, watching Harry and a frail looking Dumbledore. I almost slipped out of Pinnae because of the regret that fluttered in my chest, but it was easily pushed aside.
I watched as Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral staircase, his hand just meeting the door as I heard running footsteps from the door opposite to Harry. My eyes trained and waiting for Draco missed whatever had caused Harry to keep fleeing.
“Expelliarmus!” Draco shouted, and I sprang into action, catching the wand in my claws and settling back on the sill.
Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, “Good evening, Draco,”
Draco stepped forward glancing over to me then to the empty room. He was making sure that we were alone. I wanted to warn him that Harry was close, but I couldn’t not yet. Draco seemed to figure this out on his own however, as his eyes fell upon the second broom.
“Who else is here?” He demanded.
“A question I might ask you.” Dumbledore eyed me before his attention reverted back to Draco. “Surely you’re not acting alone,”
“No,” Draco said. “I’ve got backup.”
“I see,” Dumbledore said as if Draco’s actions were praiseworthy. “And won’t you join us Miss Y/n?”
Draco glanced to me, panicked. That wasn’t a part of the plan. I wasn’t to be human at all. No one was supposed to know that I was there. Not the Order or the Death Eaters and certainly not Bellatrix.
“I know that it’s you my dear, you might as well join us,”
It was a wildcard neither Draco nor I were expecting. Draco gave a seldom nod, looking utterly defeated. Against my better judgement, I morphed back human, wand in my hand as I took my place at Draco’s side, adrenaline and anxiety threading through my chest.
“You always were such a talented witch,” Dumbledore praised. “I assume you had a hand in this plan, finding a way to get the other Death Eaters into my school?”
“Yes,” I answered, my voice shaking.
“You do complicate things don’t you my dear,” Dumbledore’s eyes fell upon me. “To think if Mr. Malfoy never had you, what would have become of him.”
“I don’t dwell on what might have been,” My eyes narrowed at the frail headmaster. “But rather what is to come,”
“Ah yes, your little job,” A twisted smile curled on his face. “Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,” said Dumbledore softly.
Confusion flitted across my face. Did Dumbledore know what we were here to do? How long had he known? Why the bloody hell hadn’t he said anything? A tense silence fell between us and I could faintly hear the fighting of Death Eaters and The Order occur somewhere below. I winced at the mental images.
“Draco, you are not a killer.” Dumbledore smiled. The words sounded cruel coming from his mouth rather than mine. Condescending.
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Draco snarled, gripping his wand tightly.
“Oh yes, I do,” said Dumbledore mildly. “You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley—”
“That wasn’t us,” I interjected. “You really think I’d allow that?”
“Well you are here to kill me, are you not?”
Silently I seethed, gritting my teeth.
“It wasn’t us,” Draco replied coldly. “And we never figured out who it was,”
“Very curious,” Dumbledore mused. “But you were saying . . . yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible...How did you do it?”
Neither of us said anything. The echoes of the fight below were deafening. My blood ran cold, torn between who I needed to win. One to protect Draco and I. One to protect my family.
“Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone,” Dumbledore taunted. “What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight too,”
“The Order is here?” Frowning I met ancient blue eyes.
“You think I wouldn’t have back up at my own school?”
Betrayal washed through me. I had no idea that the Order was here. That they were the guard against the raid that was merely a plan b. I never wanted them to get hurt. Why wasn’t I told that they were here? Wasn’t I apart of the Order as well? Then it dawned on me.
“You... you manipulated me!” I shouted. “You never wanted me as a part of the Order! You just wanted to keep an eye one me! Never for one moment did you believe in me!”
Draco winced at the realization of my words, as he took my hand, grounding me.
“Who was I to go against your father’s wishes?”
“My father is dead because he believed in you,” I spat.
“He died for you. Not me.”
I growled dangerously.
“But never mind all of that,” Dumbledore waved the thought as if it were something easily dismissed. “And after all, you don’t really need help... I have no wand at the moment... I cannot defend myself.”
I ran my fingers over Dumbledore’s wand in my hand. It was urging me on, daring me to cast an Unforgivable. Begging me to. If I didn’t get my fury under control, Draco might not have to kill Dumbledore. Because I would.
A silence fell again.
“I see,” said Dumbledore patronizingly. “You are afraid to act until they join you.”
“I’m not afraid!” Draco snarled, though he still made no move to hurt Dumbledore. “It’s you who should be scared!”
“But why? I don’t think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe... So, tell me, while we wait for your friends... how did you two smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I hissed. “We had the plan since this past summer. We could have easily done it by Christmas, but Draco and I deserved another year together at our home,” My words dripped venom as they met the crisp air.
“We had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one’s used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year.” Draco explained because anger claimed my voice, deeming me silent.
“Ah.” Dumbledore’s sigh was half a groan. He closed his eyes for a moment. “That was clever... There is a pair, I take it?”
“We don’t have to explain anything to you,” I whispered, my eyes closed as I tried to reign in my anger.
“I see,” Dumbledore smiled. “But I suppose that I was incorrect when I assumed that you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet and acted rashly? It does leave me to wonder who did almost kill Ms. Bell and Mr. Weasley.”
Draco’s grip on my hand tightened. He didn’t like the loose end any more than I did. “If you suspected us, why didn’t you stop us then?” Draco demanded.
“I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders —”
“He hasn’t been doing your orders, he promised my mother--”
“Of course, that is what he would tell you, Draco, but—”
“But nothing!” I interrupted. “I think Narcissa means a bit more to Snape than you do,”
“We must agree to differ on that, my dear. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape —”
“That’s marvelous,” I deadpanned. “But trust isn’t the same as loyalty,”
“Isn’t it though?” The old professor seemed as if he were having a hard time standing on his own without the help of the railing. I almost offered my aid. “But as for being bout to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted...”
Draco glanced to me and a gave a soft smile. The fear and uncertainty in his eyes caused my anger to morph into a fierce protection.
“I see,” Dumbledore went on. “I wonder why Voldemort has let you live so long Miss Y/n. You really do hinder Draco from what is expected of him,”
“Shut your mouth!” Draco snapped. “She is the cleverest, most brilliant witch I’ve met! If anything, she pushes me past what I should be and into who I am!”
“And who are you Mr. Malfoy? Are you a killer?” Neither of us answered. “There is little time, one way or another,” said Dumbledore. “So, let us discuss your options, Draco.”
“My options!” Draco scoffed. “I’m standing here with a wand—I’m about to kill you—”
“My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means.”
Draco’s aspiration to kill Dumbledore might be fading, but my desire for it was growing with each moment that passed as I untangled a web of lies and manipulation in silence about the frail headmaster before me.
“I haven’t got any options!” Draco despaired. “I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill her! He’ll kill my mother!”
“I appreciate the difficulty of your position,” said Dumbledore. “Why else do you—”
“No,” The fury in my voice was cold and unforgiving. “Don’t. You. Dare. Don’t you dare make yourself the martyr. You have no idea the hell Draco and I have been through together. Your chosen one almost killed him for Merlin’s sake, and you have nerve to offer a false kindness? As if you were blameless? As if you understood?”
“No, you can’t,” Draco agreed to the weight of my words.
“Come over to the right side,” Dumbledore continued as if I had never spoken, “and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban...When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, you are not a killer...”
“Like you protected my father?” I whispered softly. “When will you see we are on the side of good. But we’re not on your side.”
Dumbledore did not speak. His mouth was open, still trembling, as if to find the right words to manipulate us back to his side.
But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs, Draco and I turned, in fear. We were both buffeted out of the way as four black robes burst through the door.
It seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.
A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle. “Dumbledore cornered!” he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. “Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!”
“Good evening, Amycus,” said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. “And you’ve brought Alecto too... Charming...”
The woman gave an angry little titter. “Think your little jokes’ll help you on your deathbed then?” she jeered.
“Jokes? No, no, these are manners,” replied Dumbledore.
“Do it,” said the stranger standing furthest from me. He had a deep raspy voice and almost barked the words. All of my instincts told me to run from this man.
“Is that you, Fenrir?” asked Dumbledore.
“That’s right,” Fenrir barked, and I understood. Fenrir Greyback, the savage werewolf. “Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?”
“No, I cannot say that I am.”
Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely. “But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.”
I choked back a sob, struggling to stand upright. Faces of my family flashed through my mind. Whose blood was on my hands and on his teeth? My world spun as I tried to get it back into order. Draco’s arm wrapped around me, trying to keep me upright.
“Ah, the little harlot,” A familiar voice cooed. “I should have known you’d be the one to stop Draco from his task.”
My eyes flashed up, meeting Bellatrix’s.
“She’s actually helped quite a bit,” Dumbledore interjected. “She has my wand, and she’s the one who made your arrival possible,”
“Shut up you old fool!” Bellatrix sneered. “Now come along little prince, we are short on time,” There was an urgency in her voice that made me hopeful that perhaps the Death Eaters hadn’t won but merely escaped.
“Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us—”
I didn’t take note into who was speaking because just then, from the door that Draco had arrived, came Snape, rushing forward and taking in the scene before him. His eyes met mine then went to Draco’s before settling onto Dumbledore’s.
“Severus...” The plead startled me. My eyes turned to Dumbledore who for the first time tonight was begging.
Snape said nothing but walked forward and pushed Draco and I roughly out of the way. Draco steadied me and we both moved to the back wall, watching the other Death Eaters—even Bellatrix fall back without a word.
Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.
“Severus... please...” Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.
“Avada Kedavra!” It wasn’t my voice or Draco’s. But rather Snape’s.
Time around me slowed. Or maybe I could register everything around me all at once.
Dumbledore staggered back, falling, falling, falling down. Bellatrix cackled victoriously. Draco was a solace beside me, clinging to me as if I was his only lifeline.
“Out of here, quickly,” Snape ordered, glaring Draco and I down, a snarled look on his face.
He seized Draco’s cloak and forced him first through the door, with me trailing not far behind Draco. I didn’t bother to look who was behind me. Darkness fell over me and I proved blind. All I could do was cling to Draco’s robe and pray that wherever this darkness led, that there was a light somewhere at the end.
The darkness lifted as the starry night sky stretched before me letting me know that I was on the grounds of Hogwarts, not far from Hagrid’s.
“Go! Off the grounds and disapparate!” Snape ordered. “Go home!”
Draco and I stumbled as we ran through the dark. I wished nothing more than to morph into Pinnae and fly away, but I knew it was impossible. Just as we were at the outskirts of the grounds, Draco had to pull me out of the way of a bright red flash.
“Stop righ’ ‘ere!” A gruff voice called.
“Hagrid!” I called in relief until I realized I was no longer wanted here.
“Y/n?” Hagrid seemed just as confused as I was. “Wah are you doin’ ou’ wiff a bunch o’ Death Eaters?”
“I’m so sorry Hagrid,” I yelled into the darkness as Draco and I kept moving towards our freedom. “Take care of Steve, please!”
The distraction was enough to let a few black robes step foot off campus and disapparate. I turned back, a mistake, and saw Harry sprinting towards us, malice and torture in his eyes.
“I was right about you all along!” He shouted. “Don’t you dare show your face here again!”
Before I could respond, mostly just wanting to scream in frustration, Snape intersected the two of us, allowing Draco to grab my arm and pull me off the grounds.
“Y/n!” He called. “You need to disapparate! Go back to the Manor!” His eyes were wild and wide.
I nodded and wand in hand, I landed softly into the foyer of the Manor.
Of home.
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chapter 11
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Shadowsinger Part 6 - Gwynriel
ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
*****
Azriel was still asleep when she opened her eyes, his hair falling over his eyes as his head dropped onto the back of the chair, had he slept there all night? She couldn't think how he actually managed to fall asleep in a chair of all places. He opened his eyes as she sat up,
"Morning, sleepyhead," she laughed, and he yawned,
"Morni-" and yawned again, setting Gwyn laughing again,
"C'mere, you're hair's all messy." She leaned towards him, quickly tiding it up, brushing it backwards through her fingers, not quite registering how still he had gone until she had finished and sat back, "There we go, that's better,"
"Thank you," he said, his voice much lower than usual, still with notes of sleep in it, she had never noticed it before, and she had to force herself to get up normally, and wash her face, without thinking about that voice. She stared into the mirror for a few moments, mentally preparing herself to face him again, "Gwyn, I'm gonna go and get dressed, I'll see you at breakfast."
"Okay," she shouted back, shit. How was the sound of his voice slowly shredding her self-control? It was just the change in his voice, nothing else, it couldn't be anything else she told herself. She was foolish to even consider it.
Apparently, Cassian and Nesta hadn't emerged yet, so it was just Gwyn and Azriel at the dining table that morning, forcing Gwyn to try to control her thoughts, to push any thoughts of him aside and focus on her food. She hated the silence, it felt wrong, unnatural, and she sighed, anything to break the stillness around them. Even that small sound seemed to wake Azriel,
"Gwyn," she looked up, startled, and smiled, "I just wanted to talk to you about what's going on in Illyria." Oh, she'd forgotten to ask Nesta,
"Okay,"
"I don't know how much Nesta's already told you,"
"I haven't had a chance to ask her yet, so very little."
"Okay, well, the bottom line is that there are those among the Illyrians who hate the changes Rhys has been implementing. Banning wing-clipping, and enforcing it, forcing them to train females, and putting systems in place for those who want help, so they can contact us easily, without their families knowing." Gwyn nodded, good, she'd heard about wing-clipping, seen what had happened to Emerie, it was about time it was finally gotten rid of, completely.
"Okay, so, some of them don't like it, then,"
"No, there are some who have been attempting to ignore the laws, and have failed," he added, seeing her worry, "And then there are those who are restless, hating that they fall under Rhys' jurisdiction. They want an independent Illyria, and freedom to treat their females how they wish." Gwyn gasped,
"They wouldn't survive on their own, right? They don't have a unified leader, anyone who wanted would be able to invade easily, and their army is paid by Rhysand, they couldn't afford it otherwise."
"Exactly, that's why the wannabe rebels are a minority, but they are there. I promised you no secrets, it's no good trying to protect you from this. There's nothing that could happen in Velaris though, any potential fighting will be in Illyria."
"You're going to fight?" He'd only come back from another war a year ago, and she couldn't face the thought of him, of any of them, on a battlefield.
"Maybe. Hopefully it won't come to that. Hopefully, the loyal Illyrians will be able to stop a full rebellion before it starts. Most of them do support Rhys' new laws, but the minority are very vocal."
"You need to know who is stirring up violence then. And where, and how many, and how strong they are."
"Y-yeah, exactly, have you been reading about this?"
"No, why?"
"Never mind, it's just, you seem to know exactly what to look for, and at dinner last night, you were paying attention to everyone."
"I was just trying to work out what to talk about, I doubt I'd remember it."
"Oh, really, who was complaining, quietly I might add, about the wine running out?"
"Mor."
"Yeah, and what did Rhys say?"
"That it served her right for drinking all his best wine." Azriel raised an eyebrow,
"And Feyre?"
"Laughed at both of them, and called Rhysand a pretentious prick."
"So you don't remember anything?" Gwyn laughed,
"I don't know."
"You instincts are spot-on. It takes months of training for some of my spies to learn to listen to a room like that," he mused,
"Then train me."
"What?"
"Train me. To be a spy, maybe I can help with Illyria."
"Absolutely not, you've not even trained to fight for that long, I'm not letting you anywhere near rebellious Illyrians."
"That's stupid, Az. Train me to help, or at least to listen, I visit Emerie at Windhaven quite often, so I can at least help you get a picture of what it's like there, if nowhere else. Please, I want to be helpful, I'm done being useless."
"You've never been useless, Gwyn, and I will train you, but only so that you have an extra skill set to defend yourself, not so you can go and spy in Illyria." Gwyn huffed,
"Az. You're being stupid, stop trying to keep me safe, train me, and then let me use those skills."
*****
Gwyn was glaring at him, annoyance glimmering in her eyes, he was being stupid, but some part of him couldn't bear the thought of her in danger. She kept her gaze on him as she finished eating, giving him a chance to think,
"I won't say yes," Gwyn shot him another exasperated look, "But," he continued, "You can be a last resort, only if my usual spies can't get in, or can't find anything, then you can go." She narrowed her eyes, considering, and nodded,
"Perhaps Em has heard something, we should ask her today." Azriel nodded, and quickly tidied up their plates,
"You wanna help set up for training?" He grinned, "Should be fun today," Gwyn sat bolt upright,
"Oh no, no, I know that look, you're going to be mean, is there an obstacle course of something?"
"You'll have to come if you want to find out," he slipped out of the room, chuckling as she swore and scrambled out of her chair to follow him. Gwyn's eyes widened at the sight of the course he and Cassian had secretly set up last night before dinner,
"What is it?" She breathed, pretending to be nervous of it, but Azriel noticed how she was shifting her weight from foot to foot, how her voice raised in pitch slightly, she wasn't scared. She was excited,
"It's sort of an obstacle course, but this one simulates enemies, so Cass and I can both watch you fight, without one of us having to be the opponent. And, as a bonus, the second half is brilliant for silent movement training, which is what we'll work up to if you want lessons from me." Gwyn nodded gleefully, and Azriel chuckled at her excitement, "There's only a few things I need to get set up now, the moving parts and stuff. If you like, you can get the weapons racks out and ready while I do that."
As expected, Gwyn was right at the front of the queue to tackle the course, with Nesta and Emerie right behind her, she was bouncing on her toes, waiting, waiting,
"Go!" Cassian's shout spurred her into action, and she leaped over the wall obscuring the course from her view, immediately ducking the padded bar swinging towards her head. She kept light on her feet as she ducked and weaved between moving obstacles, one wrong step and she'd be sent flying. Gwyn kept her focus on one obstacle at a time, facing one, and moving to the next, she rolled sideways, and leaped onto a wall to avoid the final bar, and it slammed into the wood next to her. She gasped, and glared at Azriel, but he chuckled, it wouldn't have really hurt her if she hadn't moved, just left a bruise perhaps, but the near-miss spurred her on, and she sprinted for the next obstacle, but her undivided focus left her exposed for the first 'enemy' to knock her feet out from underneath her. Gwyn gasped and rolled, and Nesta craned her neck to try to see at the sound, glaring at Cassian, and mouthed something at him,
"She says that if Gwyn's hurt, she'll kill us both," Cassian whispered, and Azriel snorted,
"She can try," Gwyn had rolled forwards, her hands automatically raising into her guard, and she easily blocked the next blow from the padded gloves,
"Wait! Az, how do I win?" She shouted when she ducked past and landed a blow, but barely ducked the backhanded counter-strike,
"You run, Gwyn. Run!" He shouted, "You have to beat the obstacles whilst avoiding your enemies, try not to activate the rest of them," Gwyn shot him a look before taking off, and made it past the next obstacle, before another 'enemy' activated, and she was trapped between the two of them. Azriel deactivated them with a quick command to his shadows before they could hurt her, but she was still stuck,
"Azriel!" She shouted, "Make them move, you idiot!" He didn't respond, and just chuckled at her annoyance, "Azriel!" She snapped again, and he reset the course, offering her a hand over the fence to the training ring, and chuckled when she slapped it aside, climbing over herself,
"Not bad for a first try. But, you've got to be aware of your surroundings a bit more, focus on the obstacle, but be aware of the rest of them, both of those enemies were avoidable, in fact, all of them are. When I tested this yesterday, I didn't set any off, Cass set off a few, but you should be able to avoid all of them. You're smaller than us, more agile, use that to your advantage." Gwyn nodded, and grinned when he marked her place, "Beat that next time."
Nesta came within spitting distance of Gwyn's record, a sprained ankle as she underestimated the distance of a jump sending her sprawling to the floor. She was still leaning against Cassian as he fussed whilst Emerie ran the course, only losing when a wing clipped an obstacle, knocking her off balance. She swore, but scrambled over the fence to join her sisters to watch the other females.
"Make sure you cool off, ladies," Azriel called, "Gwyn, you're with me," he stepped aside to a quiet corner of the ring. "First off, I want you to learn to move silently, it should be easy here, there's no stones to move, or creaky floorboards. Go and stand by the wall, and try to reach me without my hearing you."
"Your shadows-"
"They won't betray you, I honestly think they'd rather betray me than you," Gwyn snorted, "Make sure you place your feet carefully, and move slower than you think you need to." Gwyn nodded and Azriel turned his back, waiting for her footsteps to halt as she reached the wall. Ten meters. That was all she needed to cross. She took a deep breath, and fell silent, but after what must have been only a few steps, she rushed, placing a foot too quickly, and Azriel whirled, "Start again, you rushed, move slowly," Gwyn alerted him quickly three more times, groaning in exasperation each time he sent her back to the start, but gradually she started getting closer, only her excitement getting the better of her. She was one step away from him when she scuffed the ground,
"No!" she hissed when Azriel turned to face her, "I can do it, I can."
"I know you can, don't celebrate too early, that's the only issue." Gwyn sighed, and started again, this time remaining silent until she poked him in the shoulder and let out a whoop of delight, grinning at him, and he laughed. She was shining, and his heart leapt with her, his shadows too, her joy becoming his own, and she practically bounced up to him and beamed up at him. There was just something about her, her mere presence lifted his worries, and let his shadows roam, not constrained, but freed. She didn't chase them off as Elain had, or even Mor, she made them sing. He blinked, and realized he'd been staring, so coughed, and forced himself to look away, "Grab a sword, practice your basic movements silently."
Gwyn picked everything up remarkably quickly, it had only taken her half an hour to reach him, and now she was already adapting that technique to the swordplay, even moving the sword silently through the air. Azriel had begun coaching her through it, but now he too fell silent, just watching her, only occasionally offering pointers, and stopped her when he noticed her swings slowing down, her breathing speeding up,
"Go jog a lap, then stretch off, that's enough for today." Azriel stayed to watch, making sure she cooled off completely before leaving her to bathe and change, he should have reports to read from all his spies by now anyway, and Rhys would want an overview this evening.
*****
Gwyn toweled her hair off, and for the first time since she could remember, she had no work to do, Merrill hadn't sent her any messages, any demands more like, and she didn't feel like just sitting and reading on her own. She grabbed her book off her nightstand, and went to find Nesta, but made a face when she heard suspect noises from her friend's room, turning on her heel and heading back the way she had come. She still didn't want to be alone, so she knocked on Azriel's door, and pushed it open at the grunt from inside,
"Can I sit with you, Nesta is, uh, y'know, and I don't want to be on my own. I won't disturb you," she added, noticing the paperwork on his desk, and he smiled,
"Of course, it's just reports to go through,"
"Anything interesting?"
"No. Not yet, but I've only read through a couple, hopefully someone will have something." Gwyn nodded, and settled into an armchair to read. They fell into a comfortable silence, each reading their own material, at ease in each other's company.
As time wore on, Azriel's brows scrunched together, and he narrowed his eyes, even his shadows seemed agitated as they flitted between the two of them. Gwyn set her book aside, and crossed to his side, gently resting a hand on his shoulder,
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing important," he offered her a small smile, "Don't worry," Gwyn squeezed his shoulder softly,
"Az, what is it? Even if I can't help, let me take some of the burden. I won't pretend to know what your job's like, but please, let me help however I can."
"You are helping, by being here, by being safe, you're helping. I have so many people to worry about," he raised the papers, "I can't easily protect them, but you, and the rest of you here, I can keep you safe here. That burden lessens when you're all here." Gwyn softly cleared a spot on the desk, tiding the unusually messy papers, and sat in front of him,
"Did something go wrong?"
"No, I'm just worried it might, honestly, Gwyn, I'm fine." Gwyn narrowed her eyes disbelievingly but before she had a chance to respond, Azriel pushed his chair backwards, and made for the door, "I need to clear my head a bit, I'll be back in a bit."
"Oh, okay," of course he didn't want her help, she was probably just a nuisance, she couldn't possibly understand the stresses he faced on a daily basis. If he needed help he'd ask Cassian, she should leave him alone. But, even as she allowed him time, something made her feet move, made her climb the stairs to the roof.
The stars were beautiful, shining together, and she relaxed at the familiar sight, counting the stars as she had since she was a little girl. She stopped moving at the sight of another figure sitting on the edge of the roof, hunched over, his knees drawn up to his chest, with his great,beautiful wings drooping behind him. Gwyn made her presence known as she crossed the roof and sat beside him,
"Az," she whispered, and put an arm around his shoulders, "Please. Talk to me." he shook his head, staring into the distance still, even as a wing shifted closer to her, "What's wrong?" He just turned to face her, his beautiful face filled with despair, his eyes, usually so full of life were dimmed, empty. Gwyn moved before she knew what she was doing, cupping his face in her hand, and he leaned into the touch, "What happened?" She breathed,
"Nothing. That's the problem. Nothing. I can't even do my job." He broke off and turned away, but Gwyn turned him back,
"Talk to me."
"Rhys has a meeting with all the Camp Lords tomorrow, it could be the make or break moment for the rebellion. I was supposed to get information, who tries to fight his new laws, who wants to fight back, you know. I have nothing. He's going in blind. It's my fault, I failed him. Again." Tears pricked Gwyn's eyes at the despair in his voice, the self-loathing.
"You didn't fail anyone. You did everything you could."
"I could have gone in myself."
"To Illyria? They'd have clammed up completely at the slightest whiff that you were there. You have to trust your spies, and sometimes they won't find anything, and it isn't your fault."
"I couldn't even get them in to some camps."
"Again, they couldn't get in, not you. They work for you, but something that goes wrong on their end does not mean that you let anyone down. Sometimes things go wrong, and no-one is to blame."
"I can't keep letting him down."
"You don't keep letting him down. You could never let him down."
"I did. I wasn't with him when he went to that meeting. I could have stopped it." Gwyn knew the meeting he was talking about, "There was no-one to sniff his drink, if I had been there, she would never have been able to sink her claws into him." Gwyn just nestled into his side, letting him talk, "Fifty years, Gwyn. I failed to find a way to save him for fifty years! And then when he got back, I got injured at Hybern, I forced Feyre to go back to Spring. I am the reason that he almost lost his mate as soon as he found her. I should have known that the queens were after Feyre's sisters in the first place, but I failed them, too." Gwyn rubbed his shoulder, holding his gaze as he spoke, "I was too slow in the battle, he died because I couldn't help."
"No." Gwyn breathed, “He died to heal the Cauldron, you couldn't have done anything.”
"Yes, I could. I was with Helion, his specialty is spellwork. If I'd gotten him there faster, they could have worked together."
"You got him there fast enough to revive him."
"But without Feyre, we never would have had the chance. I can't risk something happening again, for all I know, they might all attack him at the meeting. He'd be fine, but still, I should know if there's a plan like that." Azriel finally stopped for a breath, his gaze returning a little, actually looking at her, not just seeing.
"Az, you have done everything and more that anyone could possibly expect. Plan for what might happen, with what you have, but we can't use what we don't have, so don't beat yourself up about it. Please." It broke her, seeing him like this, miserable, thinking he didn't deserve everything he had built for himself. She couldn't bear the thought of him suffering, alone, thinking that he'd failed those he loved most. Before she could reconsider, she was singing, singing the only song she knew would help him, his mother's lullaby,
Arrorró mi niño
Arrorró mi sol
Duérmase pedazo
De mi corazón
Cierre los ojitos
Ya se va a dormir
Que el pícaro sueño
No quiere venir.
Azriel's gaze remained on her as she sang, his breathing becoming more regular, until his shadows began to dance. She was still leaning against his side when the song finished, and she started again, tears pricking her eyes when he joined in, no hint of the misery left in his voice, just hope.
"Let's get to bed, it's late," she whispered, and Azriel didn't complain as she led him back to his room, but when she turned to leave, she couldn't. He needed her now. She perched on the bed beside him, setting a pillow against the wall, and sang again, stroking his hair as he drifted off to sleep, his head in her lap.
*****
Azriel actually felt rested for the first time in far too long, his mind clear, focused, and he carefully lifted Gwyn into his arms. She snuggled into him as he carried her back to her own room, leaving her sleeping, safe in her own bed. He left her a note,
Gone with Rhys to the meeting, I'll be back this evening. Thank you.
He stole one last look at Gwyn's sleeping form before slipping away.
#fanfiction#fanfic#acotar#acosf#a court of thorns and roses#a court of silver flames#Azriel#azriel x gwyn#gwyn#gwyn acosf#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara
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Second Chances - Mark (Midsommar)
Warning: Major spoilers for the movie, drug use, this fic is dogshite, toxic relationships, and just overall fucked up situations
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(my gif actually)
“Dani, do you really think it’s a good idea to go?”
Dani sighed heavily when you asked that exact question for the fourth time while she was marking her calendar for when their flight to Sweden would take place. “Yes, Y/N. I’ll be fine. I’m fine.”
You knew she wasn’t fine.
“I just, I do think getting out of this tiny little apartment would be good for you...but does it have to be on the other side of the world?”
Dani scoffed. “It’s not on the other side of the world, babe, it’s just across the Atlantic.”
“It’s far enough.” You pouted. “Plus, going with that guy isn’t a good idea either.”
“You’ve known Christian as long as you’ve known me, Y/N. You should know his name by now.”
“I do know his name, I just don’t like saying it.”
Dani frowned. “He’s my boyfriend, you’ve gotta learn to accept him at some point.”
You shook your head. “He doesn’t give you what you need, Dani. He’s terrible at supporting you all the time. He’s an asshole.”
“It’s my relationship. Not yours.” Dani snapped, quickly sighing in frustration and sitting next to you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped.”
“No, I’m sorry. I...just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”
Dani smiled weakly, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a side hug. “I know, babe, I know. I gotta believe this trip to Sweden is exactly what we need.”
“I really hope so, for your sake.”
Dani subtly wiped away a shed tear off her face, faking a wide smile. “So, did you decide if you wanted to go to the party tonight?”
“Depends, is Mark gonna be there?”
“You know he is.”
“Then no.”
“Come on, Mark’s a good guy.” She’s stifled a chuckle.
“Girl, you can’t even keep a straight face.” You laughed.
“You used to be date him and actually enjoyed spending time with him, ya know.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“Please, it’ll be fun! Pelle and Josh will be there too, it won’t just be Mark.”
“Josh is a smart ass who gets on my nerves. I mean, who the hell studies anthropology?”
“Hey!”
“Oh hush, you’re studying psychology.”
Dani rolled her eyes. “Okay, Ms. Environmental Scientist.” She said, making you chuckle. “So, are you coming to that party with me or what?”
You didn’t really enjoy going to parties...like, at all. Even if Dani invited you to one, you always made some sort of excuse to get you out of going. But ever since the incident with her family, you felt you needed to spend every waking moment with her, mostly out of fear that you’d lose her forever. You probably spent more time with Dani than her so called boyfriend.
You felt selfish for feeling pained that Christian was the first one she called when she got the news. You knew her family, actually made an effort to get to know them unlike Christian, and always saw her parents as your own and her sister was always kind to you. You felt like you lost a lot too, but you didn’t allow yourself to feel that way for long, not when they weren’t actually your family. If you were being honest, you haven’t allowed yourself to grieve at all. You spend most of your time taking care of Dani, never having the time to do anything for yourself.
The company Dani kept also was one of the reasons you never wanted to go to one of those parties. Pelle was nice, you could actually see him as a friend. Josh was a know-it-all. To be fair, you were a know-it-all too, but at least you didn’t brag about it every chance you got.
You couldn’t stand Christian. You always saw how awful Christian treated Dani, and how she just took it. One day, you actually almost got into a psychical fight with him for how he gaslighted her. Dani didn’t talk to you for a week after that, and after that, you tried not to let your anger out because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.
Mark...god, Mark could be so annoying. You used to be a couple, it’s true. But after seeing him not do anything about his “best friend” mentally abusing his girlfriend, you couldn’t just stay with him anymore, it just didn’t feel right. Plus, him being way too overprotective was not something that you liked in a person. It was heartbreaking since you actually liked him a lot, you could’ve truthfully say you loved the guy.
You didn’t dislike Mark as much as Christian, but he constantly got on your nerves after your break up. But Dani always reminded you how insecure he must’ve been after the fact. Doesn’t excuse his behavior, of course, but it did help keep your anger in check whenever he tried to push your buttons. If he wasn’t such a dick, you probably would’ve seen an actual future with him, that could’ve been happy.
Yeah...you really didn’t want to go to this party. But seeing Dani’s almost pleading face, you couldn’t argue with her.
So, you were dragged to the last party you would attend before Dani and her friends were shipped off to Sweden, until she got back.
You could see the obviously look of annoyance from Christian when you and Dani entered the apartment. He took Dani to the one of the corner’s of the room and you could faintly hear their conversation, “Why’d you have to bring her, Dani? She almost punched me in the nose last time...”
Your fists clenched instinctively, making your nails dig into the soft flesh. It hurt, but at least it kept you from socking the dude in the face like you’ve always had the urge to do. A dull glared expression settled on your face.
“Aw, is someone happy to see me?”
You immediately rolled your eyes when you heard Mark’s voice, him walking up to you with a shit eating grin plastered on his pale freckled face. “No, I think she’s probably thinking up ways to kill you, friend.” Pelle joked, making you smile a little.
“Honestly, he’s not that far off.” You shrugged, half joking.
Mark scoffed, rolling his eyes, brushing off your hurtful comment with a bitter smile. “Why are you even here? We didn’t invite you.”
“I’m here for Dani.”
“Well, we didn’t explicitly invite her either.” Pelle smacked the boy behind his head so you didn’t have to. “Dude, ow! Hey, it’s not my fault Dani’s a buzzkill.”
Almost as if you could only see red, you were about to punch the ever loving fuck out of his handsome stupid gorgeous face when Christian came up and pulled you out of the room.
“What the fuck do you want?” You hissed, forcibly pushing him away from you.
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not looking for a fight. Okay? I have to ask you something.” He sighed.
“Spit it out then.”
“Do you want to come to Sweden with us?” He asked monotone, not hiding the glare directed to you.
“Wow, you must really want me to go.”
“It was Pelle’s idea. He thinks it would be good for Dani.”
“Since when do you care what’s good for Dani? Oh, wait, you don’t. It seems Pelle cares more for her than you do.”
“I care about Dani, okay? I care. That’s the only reason I was convinced to ask you. Please, just...she needs you. She’s your best friend, you don’t want to let her down, do you?”
Gaslighting. You knew that Christian wouldn’t be able to convince you without his number one douchebag power to make your heart bleed more than it already does. He didn’t even have to ask a second time.
And next thing you knew, you were on a plane headed to Sweden. Of course, they had to torture you with booking you a seat next to Mark. But you could handle it for Dani.
“God, I can’t wait to see all those Swedish ladies.” Mark mused, a slight smirk on his face, knowing that comment would upset you.
If those Swedish ladies had any sense, they’d stay away from the giant man completely, is what you wanted to say. But deciding to keep your comments to yourself, you just tried not to gag, rolling your eyes and keeping your eyes trained out the window, seeing the ground getting farther and farther away until your flying above the clouds.
“Silent treatment, huh? I always took you for a social butterfly.” He teased.
You took a deep breath, turning to look at him with a sickeningly sweet smile. “You do know there’s a mosquito flying around your head, right?”
The smirk on Mark’s face quickly went away, turning into a panicked expression. “Where? Where?” He almost shouted, flailing his arms around his head to swat away the imaginary insect. His panic made you laugh. You felt evil, but you convinced yourself he deserved it. When he heard you laugh, he quickly realized you lied. “Not fucking funny.” He pouted, running his hands through his hair, still paranoid.
You sighed when he kept a frown on his face, still looking around for that fake fly. “I swear, there’s no fly. This is the cleanest plane I’ve ever seen in my life, okay? There wouldn’t be any bugs in here.” You never could stay mean for long, even if it was Mark. The small grateful smile Mark gave you made it worth it, and suddenly felt your heart yearn for him against your will.
Many hours later and you finally arrived in Stockholm, only to be told you guys had to travel four more hours to get to Hälsingland. “Oh my god!” Mark whined, like a little bitch you might add.
Thankfully, you always came prepared, sticking some ear buds in and blasting music at full volume to avoid possible small talk and annoying remarks from the two frat bros. You really loved your preparedness after taking your ear buds out for one second only to hear Mark talking about seeing some video about a woman with three clits, what a moron, a cute moron...
You looked at the time, it was nearing 6 pm, but the sky was still blue as ever. It was a bit unnerving, but you tried to ignore the sense of dread you felt when you guys finally arrived to one of your destinations.
You tried not to laugh as Mark pulled his socks over his jeans and walking in a panic to try to avoid potential insect threats in the grass. “Dude, just fucking walk!” Josh fussed.
“Don’t you see all the bugs?!”
“I’m sure all those bugs are much more terrified of you than you are of them.” You voiced.
“Yeah, well, what if they’re so scared that they gang up to attack me in retaliation, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, speeding up your pace to catch up with Dani. Pelle introduced his friend, Ingemar, and his friends, Simon and Connie. They seemed like good people, until they pulled out the shrooms.
It’s not like you hated drugs, you smoked pot pretty much every other day before bed, but shrooms looked hardcore compared to grass. You did not want to partake. But Dani surprised you when she accepted the offer of the tea. “Do you think that’s a good idea, Dani?” You asked concerned.
“She can think for herself.” Christian voiced with a happy and calm tone, but you didn’t mistake the threatening undertone in his voice.
“Hey, it’s okay. Promise.” Dani reassured. You just didn’t want her to have a bad trip or anything, it’s not what she needed, as if you actually knew what she needed. You didn’t even know what you needed half the time. “Are you going to?” She asked, her hand holding onto the bag of shrooms outstretched to you.
“Oh, no. I’m good.” You backed away slightly.
“Are you sure, Y/N?” Mark asked mockingly. “You gonna be a pussy?”
Your eyes narrowed in annoyance. If only looks could kill...You grabbed the bag, popping a couple mushrooms in your mouth, immediately cringing in disgust at the taste. You chewed quickly and swallowed, almost regretting the action as soon as you did so. Since when was Mark of all people able to successfully peer pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do? The fuck?
“There’s a nice place to sit over here, guys!” Pelle voiced, motioning the group over to a tree in the middle of the field.
It didn’t take that long for the drugs to kick in. You’d never taken shrooms before, but you definitely noticed when you came up due to how the world around you was starting to look warped, almost like nature was breathing. You felt more appreciative of nature in that moment, and with Pelle talking all philosophical like, it wasn’t hard to relax into the sweet embrace of the drug.
You looked over to Dani, she was the most calm you’ve ever seen her, but you weren’t sure if that was a good thing. You snapped out of the thought, not wanting to hyper focus on a drug. “Oh fuck, a new person.” Christian groaned.
“What? I don’t want new people right now!” Mark whined.
“Now who’s being a pussy.” You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear it.
“I’m going lay down. Everyone else lay down too.” Mark settled on the ground, still breathing heavily. “Guys, do it, it feels so nice. Josh, Y/N, can you lay down please?”
“Fuck off.” You spat while Josh did as he was asked.
“Y/N, please, lay down.” You furrowed your brows when you heard the desperation in his voice, almost like he was going to cry.
“Jesus, fine.” You huffed, laying down on the soft grass.
The sun shining through the leaves of the trees was enough to put you back into a relaxed state, almost giggling at the warped rays of light. “This is nice...” You whispered to yourself.
You jolted when Dani stood up all of a sudden. “I need to go for a walk.” Dani voiced, the waver in her voice clear as day to you.
“Dani, are you okay?” You stood up, wobbling slightly, Dani’s figure waving as she walked away.
“Fine, I’m fine.”
You wanted to follow her, but were you capable enough to give her support if you were high as a kite? It didn’t matter at the point. You probably stood there trying to decide for about five minutes before you actually starting walking in the same direction Dani went, but then it was too late. You didn’t see her anywhere.
Walking into the woods, you immediately got lost in nature, enjoying the colors that seemed to be amplified from the drug. You smiled to yourself, not even the arms wrapping around your shoulders could force your mouth to pull downwards. “Hi.” Mark whispered, giggling as he tightened his embrace.
“What?”
“What?”
You turned yourself around in his arms. “Why’d you follow me?”
“I’m not allowed to see what my friend is doing out in the woods?”
“I’m looking for Dani, and we’re not friends.”
Mark pouted. “We used to be more than friends. Why’d we ever break up?”
You frowned. “Cause you excused Christian’s behavior towards Dani. Plus, you were always a dick.”
“Rude. And to be fair, I’ve been trying to convince Christian to break up with her. They should’ve called it quits awhile ago.”
“The first thing you’ve said in your entire life that’s actually correct. How’re you an undergrad again?”
If you were sober, you would have never let Mark lean in and kiss you. At least, that’s what you hoped you would’ve done. But his lips were so soft and he was so gentle, you almost wished you were sober to experience the kiss better. It almost felt nostalgic in a way, even though it hadn’t been that long since you two broke up. You had to stop yourself from leaning back in for more when he pulled away.
“You reciprocated.” Mark smiled softly, caressing your face gently.
“Did I? I didn’t mean to, sorry.”
“I miss you, Y/N, a lot. I know you miss me too.” He whispered.
You shook your head and quickly walked away, not feeling like talking about...well, your feelings. Sobering up quickly after that, you kicked yourself for allowing that to happen, even if you happened to enjoy it very much.
You pretty much avoided Mark after the encounter in the woods, you were too awkward to confront your problems with other people, in that regard anyway. But thankfully, six hours after finding Dani peacefully sleeping off the drugs, it was time to hike through even more woods to get to Pelle’s village.
“So, we’re stopping in Waco before we go to Pelle’s village?” Mark joked.
Yeah, the all white clothing everyone wore did put you off just a bit, almost giving you Jonestown vibes. But they were so nice, taking your bags and giving you strawberries. They seemed like okay people.
You looked over to Mark, rolling your eyes as you saw him exhale smoke from his vape pen. Even in the presence of strangers, he still had no respect apparently. Josh even had to stop him from eating prematurely during one the first meals of the day. The ritualistic part confused you, but you just wrote it off as culture shock.
Sitting in between Dani and Pelle, you almost hit yourself for not remembering a very important fact. “Happy birthday, Dani!” You grinned. “I can’t believe I forgot, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” Dani rubbed your shoulder. “Pelle actually gave me a drawing, which was incredibly sweet.” She said, causing him to have a slight blush on his face.
“I actually did get you something, but it’s in my luggage. Make sure to remind me tonight. But what about Christian?” Dani frowned. “He forgot...of course he did.”
“It’s not his fault. I forgot to remind him, that’s all.”
“Dani, you shouldn’t have to remind him.” You scoffed. “Let’s just hope he remembers soon, else I’ll have to castrate him.”
“Anyway, what’s up with you and Mark? You’ve been avoiding him ever since we hiked here.” She whispered.
You internally groaned. “I always avoid Mark.” Dani just gave you an unimpressed look. “Can you like, stop being a mind reader for once in your life?” You whined.
“What happened?”
You sighed, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “We kissed...” You quickly put your hand over her mouth to stop her from squealing like a school girl. “Shh. It was when we were both high. Didn’t mean anything, at all.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right?”
The conversation didn’t sway your decision to not stop avoiding Mark, you were going to avoid him for as long as possible and not even Dani could convince you to do otherwise. But you kept thinking about that kiss, and you suddenly found yourself wondering if there was any shock therapy places in Sweden.
Walking around the village a bit more by yourself to try and get some more bearings, Pelle joined you with his usual calming smile. “How are you liking it here so far?”
“It’s pretty interesting, I’d say. Living in New York never really gave me opportunities to be in nature, so this is great. I probably never wouldn’t come if it weren’t for you, Pelle.”
Pelle nodded. “I felt it was best for Dani, considering. She needs someone she can count on.”
“Yeah. It’s great that you’re looking out for her, it’s like you should be with her instead of Christian.” You cringed. “Oh god, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Damn it.”
Pelle chuckled nervously. “It’s okay. Speaking of couples, are you and Mark-”
“Nope.” You quickly interrupted. “Not a chance.”
He hummed in thought. “I don’t mean to pry. It’s just, he told me about what happened...”
You groaned. “That little shit.”
"You know, I think you should give him a second chance."
You laughed. "That came out of nowhere."
"No. It didn't. Mark has always had a thing for you. And I probably shouldn’t tell you this but, he always talks about how he regrets how things went between you two. He still cares about you.”
You frowned, the feeling of missing the bastard starting to bubble up in your heart. “We weren’t good for each other. He needs to grow up.”
“Yes, I do agree he’s...a bit immature.”
“An understatement, Pelle.” You snorted.
“Personally, I am a big believer of second chances. I just think what if I die tomorrow, would I be happy with my choices in life? You never know when that time will come.”
“Jesus, since when have you been so dark?”
“I’m serious, Y/N. You don’t know when you’re gonna die, so I’d try to live life without regrets.” He smiled calmly.
You kept thinking about what Pelle said well into the night. You had trouble getting over the creepiness of his statements at first, but you knew he meant well. You did miss Mark, more often than you’d admit. You hated that you kind of agreed with Pelle about the whole regret thing.
The next morning, you woke up with a terrible headache. Thinking way too hard for hours on end wasn’t good for your brain. But, it did give you some perspective on how you’d go about interacting with Mark. You admitted to yourself that you did want to be with him, but you also didn’t want to rush into giving him another chance, knowing that just a smidge of eagerness would give the man an overinflated ego.
“What was the name of that activity you said last night, Pelle?” Dani asked.
“Ättestupa.” He answered.
“Sounds fun.” You said, half joking. “Wish we knew what was going to happened, but you seem to love surprises.” You directed to Pelle, a cheeky smile on your face.
From afar, Mark couldn’t help but glare at Pelle. To anyone one else, you were just being friendly, and if Mark had any sense at all, it would’ve just been a friendly smile to him too. He couldn’t help but feel jealous, but even he knew he had no right to be jealous since you two weren’t together. Maybe that was his problem, he thought, being too overprotective when you were in a relationship with him. God, he knew being an immature bastard would bite him in the ass one day. He just didn’t realize someone important to him would be scared away in the process.
The brief eye contact the two of you made threw you for a loop, that sense of longing for one another.
“Can you two stop eye fucking each other, please?” Josh voiced rudely. Strangely, it didn’t phase the two of you. Josh only rolled his eyes. “Fine. Miss breakfast then.”
You eventually forced yourself to look away from Mark, the both of you following the rest of group outside for the meal. Of course, the only seat left was next to Mark. How convenient...
Mark was silent as you stood next to him, taking short glances at you and the ground nervously. “Somebody should tell those girls they’re walking stupid.” He joked, trying to lift some of the tension. It didn’t work.
A boy rung a bell, an old man and woman walked two their assigned seats, and everyone only sat down until they did. Another rack of culture shock moved through you were the couple started chanting in what you assumed was Swedish, but it was honestly hard to tell.
After that, you just ate your food in silence. You were annoyed that you were too awkward to even look in Mark’s direction. But eventually, he cleared his throat to speak. “Did you sleep well?”
It was odd, hearing him sound so timid and quiet. “Uh, I guess so. I don’t really remember falling asleep.” You chucked nervously.
“So...yesterday-”
“Please, don’t.” You interrupted with a huff.
“I think we should talk about it at least.”
You bit your lip in thought, silently agreeing with him. “Not right now. Maybe after, whatever Ättestupa is. Okay?”
He sighed, nodding his head. “Fine. Fine.”
Mark stayed behind as you, your friends, and the rest of the Hårga journeyed to wherever this activity was taking place. You all were standing at the bottom of a cliff, waiting. “What’s this activity supposed to be?” You asked, but no one gave you an answer.
You sighed, crossing your arms around yourself. Whatever was supposed to happen was taking a long time, you almost felt bored. But soon you really wished you’d stayed behind with Mark back at the village.
Everyone watched as the old woman stood at the edge of the cliff, holding her arms outstretched to the sky. You could sense Dani hyperventilating, and you also felt a feeling of dread. You had no idea what was happening, and it scared you.
You let out a loud gasp as the woman fell from the cliff, her body falling onto a stone platform below, her face hitting it hard enough to completely mutilate any recollection that this woman was a human being once. Her face was caved in, it almost didn’t feel real.
You were in silent shock, not comprehending anything else around you, even with how loud Simon and Connie were freaking out.
All you could do was watch as the old man did the same, walking off the cliff and hitting the platform leg first.
“Oh my god, he’s still alive...”
All of the Hårga cried out when they saw the poor man was still alive, sharing his pain that he must’ve been feeling. A few members of the village ended his suffering, taking a large mallet and caving in his face like his partner in the senicide.
One of the elders, Siv, said that taking their own lives was a great joy and that this ritual had been done for many years. You couldn’t believe how barbaric these people were when they were so nice at first. Why were all these people so unfazed by seeing their own people die violently in front of them?
All you could do was follow everyone to the village in silence. You did the same as Dani. You needed to be by yourself right now. You sped walked to the woods surrounding the village, leaning against a tree in exhaustion. Did that really happen, you asked yourself.
You slid down to the ground as you let the tears start flowing. You didn’t want to be in this place anymore, how could you? You thought back to what Pelle said. He knew that the ritual was happening and he didn’t warn you guys at all. Why would he do that?
“Y/N?” You heard a voice call out. You didn’t answer, you didn’t trust your voice not to come out distorted from your sobbing. Finally making his way through the clearing, Mark saw you hugging yourself on the ground in tears. “Are you okay? I...heard about what happened.”
“No. No, I am not okay. I just saw two people jump to their fucking deaths!” You tried not to cry.
Mark was never good an emotional support, so he simply walked over and sat next to you as you cried. You didn’t know how he managed to pull you onto his lap without you noticing, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care, so you just held onto him like your life depended on it. You didn’t want him to let you go.
“I wanna leave this place...” You mumbled.
“I think that’s understandable.”
“How’s Dani? Did you see her at all?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I don’t want to leave without her. I gotta find her.” You wiped the leftover tears from your cheeks, standing up with along with Mark. “Will you come with us?”
Mark didn't expect you to ask that. “You want me to go with you?”
“I have a bad feeling about this place. I don’t want any one of us to stay here, but I want you and Dani to come with me at least. I...I still care about you too.” Mark blushed as soon as you said that, making you chuckle lightly. “Seeing those poor people die...I don’t want to live with regrets, I already have enough of those. I don’t want to give up on us without trying to make things work. I admit, I gave up on you too easily. I don’t want to do that again. Okay?”
Mark couldn’t help himself, he soon planted a passionate kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, you weren’t afraid of opening yourself up to him anymore. You wanted him, you’ve always wanted him. It just took a rough wake up call to remind you of that.
You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, standing on your tip toes to meet his lips easier. You felt safe in his arms, him holding you so close that the world and the messed up situation you both were in seemed to fade away. But you knew you were limited on time. You both pulled away breathlessly, wearing smiles on your faces.
“I love you.” Mark said, shocking you. “What? Live life without regrets, right?”
You laughed softly. “Yeah, you’re right. I love you.”
“Now, let’s get outta here.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, I left it open ended on purpose. I’d like to think that they escaped the Hårga. But if they didn’t, at least they’re together lmao.
Whenever I feel bad that Mark died in the movie, I just think to how he must’ve put up a fight since that cunt who led him away had a busted lip. Did he deserve it? Yes, probably. But...but...he was a cutie pie🥺
Also, I’m trying to write a fic with Kenny from We’re The Millers, but IT’S SO HARD. Kenny, in general, is hard to write since he’s so...well...himself. Another thing is that the plot is all over the place and my mind keeps bouncing between a bunch of ideas so, it’s literally starting to look like gibberish. But i’m trying
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lucid locations (gbd)
while one full year of wakeheart and an impending candle launch are definitely moments to celebrate, you might just have another plan for the ceo’s attention
word count: 7.5k
warnings/tags: ceo!grayson, lots of smut, 🥵 is all im sayin
feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)
Between construction at the house, the warm California summer and an inviting pool right in the backyard, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had on more than a bikini top, running shorts and one of Grayson’s shirts. He was the same - mostly running around shirtless in his shorter shorts, maybe throwing on a tank top if he was building. When you’d packed up to take haven from the construction dust and noise, headed for a rental house in Malibu, you’d had to convince him he needed to pack more than his new speedos.
Needless to say, getting cleaned up and ready for a black tie event was quite the shift from your usual day to day. The makeup you were swiping on felt almost foreign, especially the lipstick. But the hand that made it’s way onto your bare back was all too familiar. You relaxed into it, smiling at Grayson in the mirror.
“God damn.”
“Stop it,” you rolled your eyes, closing them when he leaned over to press a kiss to your shoulder.
“You look so good,” he hummed. “But can you look good 6 inches to the right? I gotta clean up my beard.” Your eyes went wide, lip jutting out as you moved over, opening up the spot in front of the sink.
“Don’t shave it.” You blurted, making him laugh.
“Don’t worry baby, I’m just cleaning up the edges. The scruff stays.”
“Good, it makes you look very... ceo-ey,” you grinned, reaching over to run a finger over his jaw, feeling the coarse hair there that you loved so much.
“What, I don’t look ceo-ey with a baby face? Not even in this fit?” He gestured down to himself in his speedo, striking a bit of a pose.
“King of business. Steve Jobs is quaking. The bulge really sells the whole look,” you teased, scrunching up your nose. He belly laughed at that, a hand moving to his chest as if to brace himself until he moved forward to you, spinning you around a bit so he could press his nose to yours.
“Can’t blame me when you insist on getting ready in a bra and tiny shorts,” he mumbled with a grin, fingers ghosting up your bare sides as if to reiterate his point.
“I’m enjoying the ethan-has-his-own-bathroom perks of this house, sue me.” His lips brushed against yours just barely as you spoke, so light that it almost tickled.
“I’m enjoying it too.” He pressed a kiss to your lips gently, a small one.
“Don’t smear my lipstick bub,” you cautioned nicely, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sighed at that, eye meeting yours and just looking. It was the type of gaze that made your cheeks as warm as your core.
“Bring more so you can fix it later. You’re very kissable right now.”
“And you’re very sappy,” you mused. He always got sentimental on big occasions, excited to make new memories. “And kissable.” You gave in, giving him a quick one, ignoring his attempt to deepen it. “We gotta get ready or we’re gonna be late to your own event.”
“The CEOs have to be a little late, I think it’s customary,” he tried, but you just shook your head, covering his lips with your hand.
“Shave, I gotta do my hair anyways. And I’m probably gonna need your help with my dress.”
That was enough motivation for him to get on with getting ready. You’d been sneaky, not shown him the dress you’d picked out for the evening. It was your first black tie event that you’d gone to ever, and definitely the first one with him at your side. You wanted to look good next to him, look good in the pictures you knew were going to be taken that he was no doubt going to post and probably print out to add to his photo collection too. It had butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you did your hair the way you liked, keeping it simple and making sure it framed your face.
It took you a little while, and you smiled when Gray wandered back into the bathroom in his suit, bowtie hanging loosely around his neck just as you finished. You let out a low dramatic whistle, breaking it off into a laugh when his cheeks turned your favorite shade of pink.
“Help.” He walked over to you, lifting his chin up so you could better access his bowtie. You went to tie it immediately - you’d taught yourself last week when he decided to wear one. It made you smile as you recalled the two of you sitting on his bed, him shirtless with just the bowtie around his neck while you practiced, the spitting image of a male stripper from a bachelorette party. You’d been laughing so hard that it took you a ridiculous amount of times to get it. Luckily now you got it on your first try, proud of yourself as you straightened it out.
“Is it dress time?” His eyes flashed a bit when you nodded in response, heading for the closet where your garment bag was waiting. You pulled it out, having to hold your arm up high so that it didn’t pool on the floor as you moved it to the bed.
Grayson rubbed his hands together in anticipation before he balled them into fists, the full embodiment of a kid on christmas, but in a 6 foot body.
“You look like you’re gonna combust baby, chill,” you teased, shaking your head as you slipped your shorts off. You felt his eyes on your thong, the smallest one you owned. You still weren’t sure it would work - only one way to find out.
You reached behind yourself and unclipped your bra, letting it fall to the floor before you leaned down to scoop everything up and toss it the laundry.
“I like where this is going.” His voice had dropped a bit, eyes taking you in from head to toe.
“Oh yeah? Well, get excited,” you teased, reaching into the Target bag on the floor to pull out a few nipple pasties. “These bad boys are coming along for the ride.” You wiggled them around dramatically in the air before you turned to the mirror to put them in place. Grayson watched, entirely unfazed.
“Okay, go stand in the bathroom for a minute,” you instructed, pointing to the door. He balked, eyes going wide.
“What? Why!?”
“Cause, you seeing me wiggle into this thing will ruin the allure. And I like surprises.”
“But I wanna see,” he pouted, giving you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. You weren’t sure how a 6ft man in a tuxedo could look so soft, but he pulled it off.
“You will see, in like two seconds,” you teased, pushing gently on his chest as he walked backwards towards the bathroom door. He was still pouting when you closed it.
Taking a deep breath you went back over to the garment bag, pulling the zipper of it down to reveal the fabric you hadn’t seen in a while. Just laying there it looked almost innocent... almost. But when you put it on? You’d never felt like such a bad bitch - even in the fittings you’d felt powerful, sexy.
“Do you have it on yet?” Grayson’s voice was impatient, a bit distorted. He was biting his fingernails, you could tell.
“No, just gimme a minute,” you laughed, coaxing the dress off the hanger and carefully stepping into it. The fabric was silky but dense, with enough structure to give your body shape and enough flow for it to be flattering. It was a deep purple that reflected in a way that made it almost blue when it caught the light. The cleavage was there, but subtle, and that subtly was made up for with an open back. The material pooled right over the curve of your ass, leaving almost your entire back exposed, held up by the tiny straps over your shoulders.
But once you had it on, you remembered your favorite part, the main reason you’d bought it besides the color.
The slit.
It was high. So high that it was borderline inappropriate, but still just classy enough. It tapered up at your hip, leaving your entire left leg open to the air. And as you’d feared, the lace line of your thong was visible.
“Let me see,” Grayson whined from behind the door. You knew if you didn’t give in he was going to come out anyways.
“Alright alright, come in!” You called to him. He wasted no time in getting the door open as you stayed where you were in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what to do about the underwear situation.
“Holy. Fuck.”
That caught your attention, and you turned to see his face. He was smiling, but his mouth was wide open, jaw slack as he looked you up and down. You expected him to get it together after a few moments, but he just stood there, awestruck, eyes never leaving you.
And then, to top it off, he finally took in a raspy breath, coughing a little. You opened your mouth to say something, but he held up a finger and moved towards the bed, rummaging around by the bedside table.
It was a sight you always wanted to remember - him, puffing on his bright red inhaler while standing there in a tux.
“Wow, that good huh?” You couldn’t help the ego boost that it gave you to see him so undone just from looking at you.
“You got room for this in your bag? Might need it later with you lookin’ like that.”
You rolled your eyes a bit, but you held your hand out anyways, taking it from him and sitting it down next to your bag. The fabric tape you’d bought peeked out at you and you pulled it out with a sigh. It wasn’t the most comfortable looking stuff, but you didn’t have much of an option.
You moved back in front of the mirror, reaching up to your thong and hooking a finger through it and pulling it down.
“What’re you doing?” His mouth sounded dry as he spoke.
“It was showing. Can’t wear any with a slit this high.”
“You’re actually trying to kill me.” He watched you step out of them with hooded eyes, which turned to confusion when he watched you open the packaging on the tape. “What’s that?”
“Fabric tape. Keeps everything where it needs to be, ya know?”
“You can’t just wear the dress?”
“Do you want the entire Wakeheart team to see my vagina tonight?” You laughed, quirking an eyebrow at him in the mirror. He scrunched his nose at that idea, staying quiet while you got everything arranged and taped.
“Okay, tell me if you can see anything.” You spun around slowly, trying out a few different angles with your leg that you might do during a photo.
“You’re good. I fuckin’ love that dress, it looks perfect on you.”
“Thank you baby. You look pretty fuckin’ hot yourself.” You fixed the collar of his shirt with a smile. He brought his wrist up, checking his watch - his green rolex, of course.
“Ah shit, we gotta go or we really are gonna be late.”
You just nodded, moving to the box with your new black heels and pulling them out. Grayson held his hand out for them and you handed them over, blushing when as you watched him crouch down and reach for your foot.
“I can do that you know.”
“I know.” He grinned up at you before he looked back down and guided your foot in, his big fingers giving him a few problems when he got to the tiny clasps on the straps. “These are stupidly tiny.”
“I can get em,” you offered again, but he just waved you off, sticking out his tongue as he focused and finally got the buckle to thread through. The left shoe went easier, even though you had to hold onto his shoulder while you balanced on your right.
He stood up when his work was done, eyes flashing wide when he looked at you.
“You’re so tall now. That’ll be nice for my back.” The question must have been clear on your face, because he answered it. “Don’t have to bend down to kiss you.”
“Shut up and put your shoes on,” you laughed, kissing him quickly before moving to check yourself in the mirror one last time - even you had to admit, you looked damn good. Grayson got his Louis shoes on quickly, tying them and coming beside you, phone in hand. He pulled you against him so you both fit in the mirror, posing like you were on a red carpet just for his phone.
“Turn around.” His voice was gruff, and when you did as you were told you knew why. You couldn’t help it - he took the first picture of just you looking up at him, your back on display. But by the time he snapped the next one, you snaked your hand down, white nails bright against his black pants as you cupped him over the fabric, his bulge already growing.
“Don’t.”
He snapped the picture anyways.
“You sure?” You didn’t have to lean too far to get close to his ear now that you had on heels, and he rolled his neck as he sucked in a breath. His eyes flashed to yours, desperate and angry and wanting all at once.
His hand fell over yours, pulling you off of him by your wrist. “Later.”
“Promise?” It rolled off your tongue as you looked up at him through your lashes.
“Jesus,” he groaned, the effort he was using to stay put together obvious. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before he let go. “Yeah, fuckin’ promise.”
He saved the last picture under my eyes only and put his phone away, taking your hand as you grabbed your bag and followed him out of the room.
------
“Does my hair still look okay?” You turned to Grayson, a bit nervous that you’d undone all your hard work.
With gentle fingers he fixed a few strays that had come loose. You should have known that they were going to play Cudi the whole way to the venue - it was a Dolan celebration after all. The boys always got hype, and you couldn’t help but join in, dancing along and singing at the top of your lungs. For your mood? Wonderful. But for your look? Maybe not so much.
“You look perfect.”
“Promise?” You quirked an eyebrow, knowing exactly what you were doing and loving every minute of it.
He sat back down in his seat further, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. Ethan noticed from the front seat, watching for a moment and then deciding he should probably mind his own business.
Grayson’s eyes were serious when he turned to you, leaning over so no one else heard your conversation.
“We have photos in like 5 minutes. I’m begging you. Behave.”
You pondered it for a minute - how many times had he fucked you up, got you turned on in public when there was nothing you could do about it? But there was a sincerity in his eyes and his voice that you couldn’t ignore.
Did you like being told what to do? No. But for Grayson? You’d do just about anything.
“Fine,” you conceded with a grin, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “But only cause I want you to be able to post the pictures without your dick showing.”
“How considerate of you,” he rolled his eyes, but it was light hearted. He laced his fingers with yours, thumb running over your skin as his excitement mounted every minute closer you got the venue. You watched out the window as the fancy buildings started to emerge, signaling that you were getting close. Malibu had a more relaxed yet somehow more exclusive vibe than LA, and it had your heart racing.
“You’re gonna be fine, it’s just cameras.” He had somehow sensed your nerves, putting his own aside as he tried to comfort you instead.
“You’ve done this before, of course it’s not scary for you.”
“True. But I’m gonna be with you the whole time, which means you have nothing to worry about,” he countered, almost asking you to challenge him on it. You just nodded, picking up your purse from the floorboard.
“When we get out can you stand in front of me? I don’t wanna accidentally flash anybody.”
“Of course baby. I thought thats what the tape was for though,” he mused.
“Better safe than sorry.”
“We’re here, you guys ready?” Ethan turned from his spot in the passenger seat, excitement written all over his face. He reached back, hand extended to his brother, his partner in all this. You watch them do the handshake they could do in their sleep, a silent communication of excitement and support.
And then, it was time for the show to really begin. It was a bit of a blur after that, mixtures of adrenaline and nerves. Grayson opened your door, standing tall and broad as you stood up, got your footing and adjusted your dress to make sure all was covered. And then he offered you his arm, prideful grin on his face as he showed you off.
It was a blur after that. You vaguely remembered pausing in front of the backdrop, a simple white with the Wakeheart logo scattered across it. You took a few serious pictures, giving your best sultry look, but mostly you just smiled, so proud of your man for all he worked so hard for.
At one point he stepped back from you, gesturing towards you proudly. It took you a minute to register that the photographers were calling out for you to pose, just you by yourself. You did your best, posing and looking where you were called.
You only relaxed when Grayson reattached to your side, leading you down the rest of the carpet that stretched up to the venue. You posed for a few with both him and E just for fun, the three of you goofing off and just being yourselves before you made it to the end, the doors open to reveal the inside of the venue.
“They want some of just E and I, do you wanna wait out here or do you wanna go sit down?”
“I’ll go sit, save my feet. Have fun!” You kissed him quickly, vaguely aware that a few cameras flashed. You reached up and wiped a tiny bit of lipstick off his lip before letting him go, watching him head back over to his brother.
You weren’t alone for long - you’d barely made it into the room before Sterling saw you, lighting up and running over to you. She was in a floor length green number, the sparkles on it catching the light from outside.
“Ster! You look amazing!”
“Says you! Holy shit! You rode in with the boys right?” You nodded, starting to look around. “Do you think they’re gonna like everything?”
“Oh they’re gonna love it, for sure.”
The room was dim, colorful lights all around giving just enough brightness to make it functional without ruining the vibe. It only took you a second to realize that each light was specific; purple, blue and a light orange, just like the Enterlight collection. There were little Wakeheart touches everywhere, from the little mini fragrances on the tables to the logo printed on the name cards at the tables.
“Your all’s table is at the front I think,” Sterling offered, pointing up by the stage. “I gotta go find Daniel, I’ll find you later!” She disappeared to find her boyfriend and you headed in the general direction of the front, weaving through some of the tables.
“Y/N!”
You turned, lighting up as you realized the call had come from Deon who was beelining for you, the biggest smile on his face.
“De!” was all you could get out before he had you wrapped up in a hug, almost lifting you off the ground. It had been too long since you’d seen him, too long since he’d come by to hang out after the first few times that you’d hit it off.
“You look hot as hell girl, damn!” He praised, and you blushed so deep that you were sure he could see it, even in those lights.
“Did Kai get to come?”
“Yeah, he’s getting us drinks, wanna meet him?”
“Of course! Gotta see what all the hype is about,” you nudged his shoulder, taking his hand as he lead you over to the bar.
Kai was taller than you’d pictured him when Deon had described his boyfriend, but he was beautiful enough for all De’s constant gushing about him to make sense. The introductions went well, and you almost forgot where you were until someone cleared their throat.
“You guys gonna get drinks or what?” The bartender that spoke was a burly guy, too much muscle, and probably too old to be happy as a bartender if his tone and glare said anything about him.
“Oh right, sorry! Just uh, two mules for us. Y/N?” Deon looked at you expectantly.
“A mojito for me please,” you kept up the niceties, trying to stay pleasant. Maybe he was just having a bad night.
“I hate making those.”
Niceties? Gone.
“Well then I guess it’s a good thing you’re getting paid.”
“Suppose so,” he grumbled, passing over the two mules to Deon and Kai. They took the gratefully, giving you a little wave before they headed off, so caught up in each other that they didn’t even register the conversation. You stood up a bit taller now that you were by yourself, practically daring him to try something.
“You here by yourself?”
“No.”
“Don’t see anybody with you.”
“So observant.” You let the annoyance seep into your tone, but you were right in assuming that he was the type of guy who didn’t give a fuck if the women around him were uncomfortable.
“Where’s your man then? Not a smart one if he’s gonna let you walk around here wearing that by yourself.” The way his eyes raked up and down your form didn’t sit well with you.
“He’s a bit... occupied. And considering I’m the reason there’s a bar here in the first place tonight, I suggest you watch your mouth and make the drinks before the CEO changes his mind.”
“What she said.”
You’d know that voice and the hand that slid dangerously low across your back anywhere. Apparently, the event planners must have shown the workers who the whole party was for, because the man behind the bar changed his tune immediately.
“Mr. Dolan,” he greeted, so serious that is almost made you laugh. “Can I get you anything sir?”
“You can get my girl what she asked for, and you can watch your mouth. That’ll be all.”
You weren’t sure how a guy the size of the bartender could look sheepish, but he managed it as he handed over your mojito.
“Thanks! Have a great night!” You hoped your insincerity was blatant enough as you took your drink and waved back to him, letting Grayson’s hand guide you as you turned around.
“Hi baby, how were the rest of your pictures?” You asked as you walked to the table, chasing your straw with your tongue for a moment before taking a sip.
Grayson just shook his head at you. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
You shrugged, enjoying the compliment and lifting up to kiss his cheek in thanks. He pulled your chair out for you before you sat down, settling beside you. As you expected, he was a hot commodity, a stream of people coming up to the table to give their congratulations. It only got more constant when Ethan found his seat on the other side of Grayson, everyone making sure they got their moment with the boys.
Grayson was fully engaged, and you did your best to listen, focus on what he was saying, accepting the little nods of acknowledgement everyone was giving you.
But you were much more focused on the way Grayson’s hand was reached back so he could keep a hand on your thigh, his diamond ring cold against your skin as he squeezed every once in a while - a little reminder that he appreciated you being there with him.
It was innocent enough - but the mixture of him in that suit, the professional tenor of his tone, the lights, the fact that his hand was big enough to cover all the way across your thigh. You couldn’t help it - you shifted your legs just barely, only then realizing just how wet you were.
It was wishful thinking that he didn’t notice. And of course, right at that moment there was a lull in the congratulations. He turned back to you, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Come with me, I wanna show you something.”
You smoothed out your dress when you stood up, hoping your skin didn’t look as flushed as it felt.
“Hey. We gotta talk at 8. Don’t leave me hanging.” Ethan’s tone was all too knowing, and if you hadn’t already been blushing you would have when he fist bumped his brother.
You took Grayson’s hand, his Rolex cool against your wrist as he lead you out of the event room, down a small hallway and to an elevator. He hit the button labeled R, and you both waited as patiently as you could. As soon as the doors were closed he was on you, both hands on your face, thumbs over your jaw as he pulled you to him.
You melted into him, molding to his form, whimpering when his right hand traced down your back, crossed over and tucked under the fabric of your dress, fingers ghosting over your bare hip.
“Fuck, forgot you ditched the panties,” he groaned, turning in annoyance as the doors dinged and opened.
There were very few things that could have pulled your attention away from Grayson at that moment - the view was one of them.
“Oh wow,” you breathed, looking out at the rooftop that the elevator had brought you to. It was a garden of sorts, lots of greenery and flowers all around. But the real stunner was the view over the ocean, a perfect Malibu beach stretching out, visible even in the dim twilight that had settled over the sky while you’d been inside.
“Figured you’d like it up here. And it’s private.”
You turned around, quirking an eyebrow at him.
“Private.” You swallowed around the word as he came closer to you, pulling you in for another kiss. This time you got your piece, hands coming up to his neck, searching out any skin you could find over his collar. He one upped you, both hands moving down your back, under your dress and over your ass, squeezing and massaging as he reached further, getting dangerously close to where you needed him most.
“We can’t, Gray we can’t.” Your words didn’t match your actions, whole body jolting when his hands moved out of your dress, right hand resting on your hip from the front now, the slit just making it that much easier for him to gain access.
“Why not?” He mused, kissing along your neck.
“Cause we can’t go back down there looking fucked out. We’ll be home in a few hours.” There wasn’t even a flicker of conviction in your voice, and he just shook his head, unwilling to hear it.
“Can’t. Got me fucked up down there, calling me CEO and shit, hyping me up to that piece of shit. Don’t think I’m gonna make it home without at least a taste.” His hand traced left, ducking under your dress. You gasped as the tape peeled off your skin, leaving you vulnerable.
“Fuck Gray,” you whimpered as his hand cupped over you, your knees buckling underneath you at the feeling of his fingers sliding through your slick.
He groaned at what he found, other hand coming up to the back of your head, chasing your lips with his as you gasped when he started to move.
“Just hold onto me baby, I got you.” His voice was deep in your ear as you clung to him, his arm wedged between both of your torsos as he worked you over. But just when you were really getting there, legs shaking, he pulled away, leaving you exposed and cold in the evening air.
You were about to complain, but the look he gave you told you he was far from done.
“You’re on watch.” His voice and the wink he threw you had your already weak knees about ready to give out as he sunk down, moving your dress away like a curtain.
He pressed a sweet kiss to your hip before he ducked down, holding onto your thighs as he dove in with a wide tongue, finally getting what he’d been waiting for. And even if he hadn’t told you to you would have been bracing yourself on his shoulders.
“I like these heels,” he murmured when he pulled back for air. “Gets me a better angle.”
“Fuck, Grayson.” Something about you using his full name had him diving back in with a vengeance, tongue rough and active, only pausing to suck on you in the most delicious way.
Your eyes rolled back, hands finding his hair, not caring if you messed it up as you held on, twitching a bit as he hummed at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You forced yourself to focus, watching the door to make sure no one wandered up to the roof, found the star of the whole affair buried in your pussy.
But something else caught your eye - a little clock, number shining blue.
7:58pm
“Gray, G-Grayson, stop, stop it’s almost 8, you have to - fuck - you have to go,” you warned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull him away from you.
“Gotta keep my promise first,” he said, only speeding up, knowing you were close from your breathy tone and your quivering thighs. Sure enough, all he had to do was add his finger and you were completely undone, calling out his name and bracing on his shoulder so you didn’t collapse.
He stood back up with a triumphant grin, ego booming as you just stared at him, working through the aftershocks. He checked his watch and clenched his teeth, giving you a nervous look.
“Hell yeah, one minute to spare. Take the elevator.” He pressed a wet kiss to your cheek and jogged off, leaving you panting and alone as he disappeared down the staircase.
“Jesus christ,” you huffed, trying to walk forward on your wobbly legs as quickly as you could, doing your best to pull yourself together. It was all deep breaths and attempts to ignore the wetness on your thighs in the elevator ride as you tried to re-stick the fabric tape with no luck.
The only reason you didn’t go to the bathroom to get yourself re-situated was because you didn’t want to miss the boys speech. So you quickly made your way to your seat, sipping on your drink to try and cool yourself down while you watched Ethan attempt to fix Grayson’s hair at the side of the stage. Oops.
They walked up eventually, waving and acting as humble as ever while the room applauded them. Grayson looked entirely unfazed, as if he hadn’t just been nose deep in your pussy 60 seconds ago. You tried to manifest the same energy, pretend like you weren’t still practically dripping sitting there in your dress.
But when he looked right at you and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip, wiping away what you knew was you? You clenched around nothing, biting down on your straw.
It was going to be a long rest of the night.
They thanked everyone for coming, and for all the support of the brand over the last year. They shouted out everyone on the team, giving them the praises they deserved. Grayson slipped in a little moment for you, a “thank you to my amazing girlfriend who always smells every sample I bring home and isn’t afraid to give her honest opinion, and who keeps me sane and supports me through every step of everything I do” that had your cheeks burning as all the eyes in the room sought you out.
When they were done he wasted no time in putting his hand right back on your thigh as soon as he sat down, smirking a bit when he wrapped around and found just a trace of wetness.
“Easy. My tape won’t re-stick,” you warned, not wanting him to get too frisky and accidentally move your dress.
“Guess you’ll just have to stay close to me then huh,” he mused, leaning in for a kiss that you gave him happily.
The rest of the night went smoothly, from the meal to the social hour afterwards. You stayed on Grayson’s arm, right where he wanted you as he made his rounds, made sure he spoke to the executives that he and Ethan had invited, got the advice he’d wanted to ask about.
Before you knew it midnight had come and gone.
“You ready to get out of here baby?”
“Hell yeah.”
Perks of dating a 20 year old CEO? He has his own driver when he wants it. But to your surprise, the man who drove the three of you there handed him keys instead of leading you to a car.
“Had em drop off the porsche in case we wanted to ditch early and Ethan didn’t.” He answered the question he knew you had, leading you to the familiar blue car that was waiting on the side of the street.
“Always the planner,” you teased, squeezing his arm before he opened your door for you and helped you in.
“I do run a company you know,” he mused, leaning down to kiss you one more time before he picked up the rest of your dress and put it in the car so it didn’t get closed into the door.
You watched his every move as he went around the front of the car and climbed into the drivers seat, starting it up and revving it up once just for good measure.
As soon as he pulled out of the spot you were leaning down to unclasp your heels, groaning in relief when your feet were freed.
“Better?”
“So much better,” you sighed, relaxing back in your seat as he plugged the rental address into the GPS and started down the road.
“Those shoes have their perks for sure. Sorry they hurt you though.” He palmed the wheel as he turned and you bit your lip, remembering exactly what perks he was talking about.
Now it was his turn.
You reached over, hand resting on his thigh, nails digging in just barely. He twitched, foot pressing a bit on the gas, lurching the car forward.
“Easy baby,” you cautioned, turning in your seat so you were facing him, fingers tracing up further, gauging his reaction.
“What’re you doing,” he asked as if he didn’t know, eyes trained forward on the road.
“Keeping promises,” you mused. “Got me fucked up back there.”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth as you repeated his words from earlier, unbuckling his belt and pushing it out of the way as you spoke.
“Yeah? How’d I get you so fucked up baby. Tell me.”
“You know exactly what you did,” you reminded him, popping the button open with your nail, coaxing the zipper down to reveal his Calvin Klein briefs that were already getting stretched as he got harder and harder.
“Wanna hear you say it,” he grunted, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“Could barely walk to the elevator when you ran off, my legs were all wobbly. Made me feel so good,” you explained, stroking his ego and his bulge simultaneously.
“Fuck yeah they were, and you still made it down for my speech.” You reached up under his waistband, pulling his underwear down enough for you to get your hand around him. His hip stuttered as you started to work him over like only you could.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you hummed, using your thumb to trace the vein on the side of his shaft, up over the tip with just enough pressure to really fuck him up.
“Shit baby. Just like that.”
You did as he said, twisting your wrist over him as he grew in your hand. When your knuckles grazed over his balls the porsche jolted again, making you grin.
“Careful. Can’t fuck you if we don’t make it home.”
“If you weren’t so fucking horny we wouldn’t have a problem,” he huffed, looking at his phone to check the ETA. 2 more minutes.
“Can’t help it. You in a suit just gets to me,” you admitted, batting your eyelashes a bit just for fun. You didn’t count on him dropping his right hand from the wheel and reaching over to you, shoving your dress to the side and immediately cupping over your already sensitive folds. You jolted in your seat, squeezing his dick in your hand.
Two could play that game. With a wicked grin, you shifted, closing your legs so he couldn’t reach you and leaning forward, dropping your head.
Before you could get very far his hand was in your hair, pulling your head back up so you had to look at him.
“Wait.”
You swallowed hard and nodded at his command, sinking back into your seat as he pulled the porsche into the driveway, typing in the gate code, fingers drumming on the wheel while he waited for them to open. He pushed the gear shift forward into park as soon as he stopped, looking over to you.
“Wait.” He said again, opening his door and readjusting himself back into his pants before he came around to your side of the car. He opened your door sweetly, offering you a hand.
As soon as you were on your feet he was crouching, shoulder hitting your hips before he grabbed and lifted, practically throwing you over his shoulder.
You squealed, trying to find purchase against his back, hands balling up his suit jacket in an attempt to hold on. He was unfazed, even taking one hand off you to unlock the door.
By the time he made it to your alls room on the top floor you’d gone limp, knowing there was no point in fighting him. You missed his face while you couldn’t see it, smiling when he leaned forward at the edge of the bed, let you fall on top of the comforter, bouncing slightly.
“Dress on or off?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow.
He pondered it for a minute, eyes darkening as he imagined both scenarios, played them out in his head.
“Off,” he decided. You nodded, standing up and pulling one of the straps off over your shoulder. His fingers found the other before you could, pulling it off so that the top of your dress fell down, revealing your breasts. You looked down with a laugh, almost forgetting about the nipple pasties you’d put on.
He cupped them anyways, thumbs running over the little petal shaped cut outs, the muffled sensation of his fingers on your nipples making your back arch, asking for more. He was gentle as he peeled them away, not wanting to hurt you, ducking down to kiss each one when they were free.
You ran your fingers through his hair as he licked over them, kissing his way across. Your dress continued to fall down, gathering at your hips until his hands found it and pushed it the rest of the way off.
“Much better,” he grinned, guiding you back until you fell on your back again.
It was quite the show, watching him strip out of his suit in front of you. He started with the jacket, tossing it away without a care before he started working at his bowtie.
You couldn’t resist - you sat up, untucked his shirt from his pants, hastily fumbling over the buttons, pausing to run your hands over his abs as soon as you saw them. He groaned at that, especially when you leaned forward to kiss his warm skin. He got the tie off somehow, working from the top button and meeting you halfway before pulling it off. Just him shirtless in those fucking pants was enough to have you fully worked up again, and you laid back down, watching him pull his belt off through the loops, undo his button and pull everything down at once.
Your mouth watered, ready for him, but to your surprise he crawled on top of you, resting just enough weight down to pin you to the bed. He was beaming as he looked down at you for a few moments, just taking you in.
You reached up to cup his face, pulling him down to kiss you, surprised but warm nonetheless at his sudden change of mood.
“I love you,” he murmured against your lips.
“I love you too.” There was no question. “Proud of you.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” He pulled back, readjusting so he could line up. You opened your legs a bit wider to make room for him, anticipation mounting as he rubbed himself over your folds for a few strokes. His lips found your forehead as he finally pushed in, stretching you out as he slowly let you adjust to all he had to give.
“So fuckin tight for me, every time baby, fuck,” he huffed out, sinking down further onto you. If you had room to, your back would have arched as you drug your nails over his arms, overwhelmed at how deep he already was.
He dropped to his forearms, rocking above you so hard that your whole body moved across the bed with each thrust. You clung to him, arms moving around him, scratching at his lower back.
You couldn’t even form words, the only things falling from your lips being his name and a constant stream of whimpers, punctuating each drive he made into your heat. Every time he pulled out his tip ran across that spot deep inside you that had you squirming, body unsure of whether you wanted to run away or get closer, overwhelmed by the force of the sensation.
He knew you were close when you started to clench around him, walls fluttering in a way that pushed him towards the edge like nothing else ever could.
When your orgasm came, it was almost too much. You cried out, clinging to Grayson as he continued to pound into you without mercy, only spurred on when you bit onto his shoulder, riding it out before your body went limp for a moment, completely fucked out.
“Almost there baby, fuck,” he groaned, sitting up and grabbing your hips with both hands, holding you up as he chased his high, lost in you entirely. “Want your mouth.”
Somehow in your blissed out state you managed to sit up enough for him to get close enough to you and your waiting tongue. It only took a few quick strokes before he was cumming, hips stuttering as he unloaded into your mouth. You found the energy to suck him dry, taking all he had to give before he guided you off, much too sensitive for you to keep going.
He laid down beside you, rolling to his right to find your hips and pull you on top of him. Neither of you moved a muscle for a few minutes, just trying to get your breathing under control and your heart rate back down to an acceptable rate. When you finally got enough energy back you made your way up to his face, catching him with soft and lazy kisses over his lipstick stained lips, drinking each other in.
You knew that the pictures would run tomorrow, and your faces would be everywhere. You could see all the headlines about Grayson in your mind: CEO, youtuber, famous, heartthrob; every girl that saw him in that suit would be just as enthralled as you had been. But none of it mattered. Because they didn’t get your Grayson, the Grayson who picked you up and carried you to the shower twenty minutes post fuck, helped you take your makeup off and made you laugh until your stomach hurt when he washed his hair and spiked it up in a soapy mohawk like a six year old. That was your Grayson; your CEO, your heartthrob, for the rest of your fucking life. You relished in the thought as you curled up to him that night, loving the weight of his arms around you as you drifted off.
#so... heres this#SURPRISE :)#grayson fic#lynds writes#grayson dolan#grayson dolan fanfiction#gray#pls pls pls lemme know what you think IM NERVY
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AT ODDS 6 (Kal Skirata x F!OC)
Summary: Tea gets spilled at Kyrimorut. Ordo gets involved. Ori makes a choice and a new enemy.
Warnings: Mando profanity, pregnancy, SPOILERS for Republic Commando books (all but the last one), medical shit, surgery, fucking SADS
As always, so many thanks to @detroitbydark who lets me screech about my weird fic and Kal and Ori! Also this is barely edited be kind, I’m on my psych rotation and barely scraping by.
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Kal realizes he’s slipped the figurine into the pocket of his bodysuit semi-consciously in his hasty retreat from the apartment. Knotted Jonah wood whittled smooth forms two stylized figures, one large and one small, their hands joined between them.
He barely registers the ride back home and comming Mij. They need a plan, and they need one fast if they are going to find her. He knows little about how the Empire treats their prisoners compared to the late Republic, but he isn’t about to have any illusions of honor or fair play. After all, he doesn’t play fair himself. But there’s a hydrospanner thrown into the mix. What he doesn’t know is how the Imps treat prisoners with … unique health conditions. Or if they even give half a bantha’s shebs. Odds are they send men and women alike to those osik’la camps he’s gotten word of. Yeah, the Empire was equal opportunity like that.
If Mereel can’t slice into the system remotely, they were going to have to do an old-fashioned infiltration. He’d ask his ad’ike if they were up to task, there’s no way he could ask to put them in danger, not after the entirety of their lives being war. It hurts him to even think about asking. But he has to do this, even if it’s just his sorry shebs.
He tries to put on a good Sabaac face when he’s back in the karyai, discreetly gathering up all the surplus weapons they have that he finds might be useful for an infiltration into a heavily armed and fortified position.
Mereel of course, catches on within minutes.
“You’re going to find her,” Mereel interrupts. Kal yanks his head up out of the gun locker to look at his son. “And you didn’t even think to ask for backup?”
His son’s tone is accusing, edging on hurt. That he did not expect.
“It’s my fuckup, son,” he replies, “I’m the one who needs to fix it. I can’t ask you to do this.”
“What’s so special about this doctor?” Mereel slams the door of the locker shut. It’s obvious his ad’ika is protective. They all are.
“She delivered your ba’vodu’ad, Mereel. I’m pretty sure she saved Parja’s life.” Kal says, keeping his eyes on his work, cleaning the weapons, arranging the ammo he needs. Sharpening his father’s three-sided knife.
“And that’s enough to go up against the Empire? ”
He’s going to have to spit it out. Mereel is looking at him expectantly, sure that he’s going to change his mind, see reason.
“She’s pregnant, son.” Mereel, who has been away for the events of the last few months, just stares back at him in a puzzled fashion, brows slightly furrowed. Looking at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Maybe he has.
“It’s yours, isn’t it?”
In comes a second voice, and the accusatory tone startles him enough that, when added to his baseline urgency and anxiety, causes his hand to slip and nick itself as he sharpens his knife.
“Osik,” he hisses, holding pressure to the cut as blood wells, looking up to the figure in the doorway. Ordo. Mereel stares at his brother, unsure whether he is joking. Kal sighs. He should know better, trying to keep things from them. The last time he was successful at that was when they were four.
“Does it matter?”
“Maybe,” Ordo replies, just this edge of indignant, “is she carrying my vod?”
A strange and protective piece of him flares at Ordo’s tone and Kal stands, still holding the cloth to his cut hand.
“Most likely.”
“Then we need to get her back.” Ordo meets his eye finally and Kal nods, satisfied, and starts gathering ammo from the safes. This time Mereel moves to help, still in a rare state of stunned silence.
By the time they’ve gathered what they need and loaded it into aayhan, Mereel has a willing team assembled and what they know of the building schematics up on a datapad in the karyai. Fortunately for them, the team won’t be breaking into any prison blocks, which are bound to be heavily guarded.
“All we have to do is get into the information security room that houses the main terminal,” Mereel starts confidently. “We can stay far away from the security blocks and the bucketheads.”
“Though it would be fun to bust some vode out of there,” Scorch adds.
“Not our mission,” says Mereel, regret plain in his voice, “we’ll have to get them another time.” The realization that they were leaving prisoners at the mercy of the empire sobers the group even more. It was becoming more and more apparent that more planning was needed before they could root out the Empire on Mandalore. Meanwhile, Kal had set Uthan to the task of trying desperately to make their own homebrew vaccine.
---
It’s been many many years since he’s fastroped. Lately, he has been finding that it’s been years since he’s done many things. Fastroping, underwater diving...fathering kriffing kids. He swallows, hard and regroups himself. Every single one of them needs to be focused if they’re gonna pull this job off.
Yes, he’s fast roped before. But he’s never liked it. Where his sons get twitchy when confined to tight spaces, he finds himself sweating more than usual under his beskar the more stories they climb. Right now, they’re about ten stories up, far above the sensors of the garrison and way above his tolerance for heights. They have about a minute to pull this off before the Imps realize this transport is lingering too long in their airspace.
Mereel, Sev, Scorch, and Kal are in Aayhan, hovering silently above the Keldabe imperial garrison in the inky black late summer night. The humidity sticks his tactical garments to his skin, making it itch and crawl in addition to his surging adrenaline. That was one thing that never changed, no matter how old he got, no matter how many missions he’s finished - that nauseating spike of pure fear and bliss.
He gives the signal to move move move and soon he’s roping down, strong north Mandalorian wind whipping around him, soaking through his underlayer. The four of them land silently on the roof of the compound, and Scorch starts laying a strip charge along the floor to create a hole leading below, straight into the admin offices. Four sets of Mando armor gleam lowly in the moonlight. It’s a perfect night for an op like this, whipping wind obscuring any slight noise they did make and the faint whine of aayhan’s engines. The charges detonate with a controlled bang and flash of bright light that briefly blinds his HUD. Kal switches to night vision.
*His child*. It’s barely a concrete concept in his mind yet, but an instinctual piece of him knows the truth. The timing is too perfect for him to be wrong. The way Orla had looked at him in the med center…
The stakes are too high to fail, and distracting thoughts get men killed. Mereel leads the way through the door, rifle at the ready, and Kal banishes his musings to the back of his mind, pushed away by a fresh rush of adrenaline. It’s a stealth mission, and they navigate by night vision, as silently as their boots will allow.
They stalk through dark quiet hallways lined with innocuous office doors until they reach the end, what is presumably the CO’s office, with its durasteel double doors and obviously larger size.
Mereel starts in on slicing the door panel while Sev shoots out the camera in the hallway corner while the rest of them listen for any approaching patrols. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed they were there, whether it was the hole in the roof or the blacked out camera. The double doors open quietly and they head inside. Vau’s boys guard the door while he and Mereel crowd the desk in the middle of the room.
“I need a few minutes to get into this,” Mereel says, eyes locked onto the screen before him. One of his slicing tools is between his teeth.
“You’ll get it, son. We’ll take care of anything that tries to get in our way.”
So far it looks like no one has noticed them. The imps must really be confident in the plan to neutralize Mandalore with so few guards and patrols. Sweat drops trickle down the back of his neck and into his bodysuit.
Mereel studies the datapad stripping the system for a few more moments and turns it towards Kal. There’s a concerned look stretched across his handsome face. Together the watch the recorded scene on the screen before them.
There’s Orla, still in her work clothes, talking with an Imp who’s behind this very desk, flanked by two stormtroopers. He knows those gestures - she’s spitting mad, barely containing the fury that was directed toward the man behind the desk. Without audio he can only guess as to the contents of their conversation. The Imp behind the desk gives a short reply and nods curtly to the right-hand trooper who, without hesitation, raises his blaster rifle and cracks her across the face with the butt end. She doesn’t even see it coming. Even in the shades of blue from the holoprojector the blood is obvious, trickling down the side of her face.
Kal is livid, trembling so finely it’s barely visible, and he almost forgets where they are for a moment. Deep in enemy territory, with hostiles incoming any minute.
Mereel makes a disgusted noise from deep in his chest as they watch her be pushed to the ground. They follow the video feed where she’s led to a cell. His breath catches. There’s a chance she’s still here. His hope is tempered, however, when an alarm starts to sound from within the garrison. A patrol must have finally found their breach point.
“Sarge?” warns a voice from outside the door. It’s Sev, by the gravelly tone.
“Almost finished,” he shouts, over the screeching din. Mereel continues to work furiously, his bulk hunched over the console. He’s able to parse through incredible amounts of data with immense precision; Kal can practically feel the concentration rolling off him.
“Wait,” Mereel says. Kal looks over at the screen. They’re centered on a video feed again, this time outside. The sheer amount of prisoners in line for the transport is shocking enough, but the fact that none of them are in armor is even more appalling. The Imps are slowly stripping their culture away, plate by plate.
“She’s not on the manifest for this transport, even though the records say she leaves.”
It doesn’t make sense. Unless… Kal knows Mereel must be thinking the same as him. Judging by the brutality of the footage they’ve watched, the stories from around the planet, he wouldn’t put it past the Empire to take care of a pesky problem in the easiest way they knew how. It wasn’t something that supposedly peaceful, orderly governments liked to keep records of. His dread and guilt intensifies, leadening his limbs already weighed down by heavy beskar.
He chokes the words out. He has to know. “Is there any footage of…” Kal can’t bring himself to say them. It doesn’t need to be said, Mereel knows what he’s looking for. He’s been in a war zone long enough to know that armies aren’t sentimental.
“No, no footage. Just them leading her away.” The alarm continues to blare. It could be minutes, seconds before they have to blast their way out.
“Here.”
Kal steels himself to watch. It’s his fault, he reminds himself again. Two more fresh marks in his ledger. His arm reaches automatically to his son’s to steady himself. He feels Mereel’s slump ever so slightly, whether it’s in relief or defeat, he can’t tell.
“I have what I need,” he says, “time to go. Debrief can wait for later.” Distant footsteps start to echo towards them, modulated shouts following close behind. They were about to be grossly outnumbered, by the sound of it. Kal shoves his helmet back on, heading through the doorway and signaling Sev and Scorch to follow.
They wind through the garrison, avoiding both patrols and squads of stormtroopers sweeping the building. It’s laughably easy compared some of the other heists they’ve pulled - except he speaks too soon. As they make their way out of the back door of the garrison onto the Keldabe streets, one squad catches up to them. Ordo has aayhan back at Kyrimorut - earlier they had decided it was too risky for the four of them to fly home and possibly expose the homestead. So instead their plan was to run the winding streets and strategically borrow a transport. The problem is that Kal is pushing sixty and the other men are - physiologically at least - still in their early twenties. They’re a lot kriffing faster than him, even with his ankle fixed.
The streets and alleys twist and turn, switching from ancient cobbles to smooth duracrete without warning. Easy enough to get lost if you’re a local, they are impossible to navigate as aruettiise. Soon the four are panting, ducked into an alcove off a cobbled alley. Finally, it seems they’ve dodged the patrol. Only time will tell if they were recognized. Kal finds he doesn’t much mind if they know his face. In fact, he hopes they do. He wants to meet that garrison officer.
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Imperial Rehabilitation Center
Weeks later
19 BBY
Life isn’t all doom and gloom. They are kept...occupied. Like rats in a maze. Ori shares a bunk with another Mandalorian, the only other there. Taren is a kid really, small and slight except for her distended belly. It’s obvious she’s used to wearing armor by the way she walks, how upright she holds herself, arms swaying slightly away from her body. And how she closes in on herself when she realizes it’s not there, when it’s nighttime in their room and thinks Ori can’t hear her sob breathlessly into her pillow every night.
It’s almost childish, the way they’re herded from room to room. Chaperoned and on a schedule, like one would handle a naughty child needing extra discipline. It was how she imagines Coruscanti boarding schools some of her medical school classmates attended - polished stone floors and crisp uniforms, all strict routines and synchronized repetition. It’s meant to numb the mind, making days run into weeks. She suspects they’re kept intentionally disoriented. After all, most of them are still political prisoners, and many she’s found have important connections on their respective homeworlds.
They’re at lunch, scattered around their assigned tables. Generously, they are allowed to converse during meals, though their seats remain assigned. The ‘rehab center’ has proven to be much more expansive than she expected - some rooms are swallowingly large, like the one she is in now, and some are as small as a broom closet, connected by narrow winding hallways. The building itself could have been any number of things in a past life - a school, factory, or prison. She supposes it doesn’t matter much now. Today there’s a newcomer, sitting quiet and sullen at a back table with the Corellians. Time would tell if she was one of them or if she hailed from a different world.
An arm jostles her, hitting her square in the ribs. It successfully knocks her out of her analysis of the newcomer.
“-did you hear what I just said?” Taren says, mouth full of tasteless nutritional paste. It’s far from delicious, but you ate what they give out and she is hungry *all the time* nowadays. A fleck lands on Ori’s face and she wipes it away with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, al’verde.” Commander. Her eyes roll automatically. She knows she doesn’t deserve the title. Discreetly, Ori shushes the younger woman - they’re lucky the stormtroopers here don’t understand Mando’a.
They put together kit for new stormtroopers, morning and night. It’s another endurable humiliation. She stabs at the cubes bitterly with her spoon, scattering crumbs across the table. They’re not allowed forks or knives, not after Taren’s first week. A tiny smile flits across her face as she thinks on the memory.
Ori feels like a geriatric compared to the spry warrior, though they’re less than ten years apart in age. She’s seen things in that time, lost people, buried dreams. Though Taren is looking older and older by the day, cooped up in this place.
“Theera is gone,” Taren says, “she wasn’t at breakfast either.”
Looking around and finding no sign of the woman, Ori hums an agreement. She’ll be gone for good soon, and her baby as well. Every time someone delivers it sends a sense of unshakeable dread down her spine and into the pit of her stomach. All of them are marching slowly towards that finish line.
The artificial hierarchy into which they are forced has made the two Mandalorians de facto leaders, despite Ori being one of the newer inmates and to cement her as *alverde*; her medical expertise makes her invaluable.
The room hushes as Dr. Loesch sweeps down to the cafeteria, all business in crisp grey scrubs, so confident in his admiration. He insists they call him ‘Doctor L’ like he’s a popular lecturer at a university. He’s the worst kind of hut’uun, just as bad as the rest of the Imps she’s met here. Loesch is in charge of their medical care, all 100-some of them, including herself. Loesch towers over most of them, even herself.
As a physician, Ori is personally insulted at his complacency, the fact that he is perfectly content in his post and cemented in his belief that what he was doing is just, his complicity. She stabs at her cubes some more to try and make herself feel better.
As a woman, she’s decidedly less surprised. Men like him are everywhere, tall and handsome, handed success on a silver platter, born into families of privilege and power. Taking and taking with no thought of the carnage they leave behind.
He saunters his way over to their table and sits with a charming smile.
“Beviin,” he starts, “I heard through the gossip chain that you were an obstetrician before you came here?”
It’s physically painful to keep her retort in hand. She’s been here long enough to see women sent to solitary. And to see them come back, changed indefinitely.
“Mmm,” she mumbles affirmatively through a mouthful of cubes. She swallows. “Yes.” Keep it simple, that’s easy enough.
He smiles sardonically. “How ironic,” he adds, obviously pleased with the revelation. Expectantly, he looks around the table to gauge his joke, and they catch on, laughing softly, nervously, afraid of what might happen if they don’t. Even Ori joins in, the butt of the low blow, though her simmering rage ratchets up another level.
They finish the rest of their lunch largely in silence and Loesch pulls her away when she files out with the others.
“Ms. Beviin,” he says conspiratorially, “I know it must be difficult for you to be here.”
The man over her, face too close for comfort, his voice deep and low. Alarm fills her as the other people in the room dwindle until it’s just the two of them and the scattered troopers on the upper level. All Ori can think about is where the nearest exit is located when she realizes he’s still speaking to her.
“...what do you think?” He waits patiently, a benevolent expression in his face. He blinks too little, she thinks, and his eyes are devoid of expression, shining with an amused sort of malevolence. They’re a strange shade of brown...no, green? The little noise he makes in the back of his throat brings her back to their conversation.
“Ah...sure?” she replies weakly, stunned and frozen.
“That’ll be nice for the other inmates,” he says. Incredibly white, straight teeth flash as he smiles down at her. “I think it will give them comfort to have you there. I’ll have the guards collect you when it’s time.”
——
Three nurses eye her from across the suite. They wear sweet matching hospital uniforms, in the same soft fabric as hers except in a delicate petal pink. With a pang, she misses her fellow nurses and doctors on Mandalore. Who knows how many had fallen ill? Been arrested? The way they clustered in a little group reminded her of her schoolmates, when they found out she didn’t like fighting, whispering rumors from across the room. That she thought she was better than them, that weird girl who was more concerned with grades than winning fights and impressing boys. Now they stand across the room from her like a little bunch of flowers in their coordinated outfits, identical and perfect. She’s an other in their world, someone to be feared and hated, pitied at best.
Orla stands awkwardly, waiting for the show to start when her stomach flips. The scrub top she has on stretches across her middle awkwardly, pulling at the seams and the soft shoes that cover her feet are obscured by her bump. The strange sensation returns, a little differently this time, just the barest flutter, deeper down than that nervous feeling. Her baby. She lays a gentle palm over the swell, as discreetly as she can, still feeling the scrutinizing looks of the women across the room.
Another nurse wheels a bed into the room, complete with Theera shivering atop it, her hair and gown drenched in sweat. Orla rushes to the head of the bed as she’s prepped for the operation. Theera is dazed, too exhausted to make much sense of anything right now, glassy eyes focused on the ceiling. She smoothes back the sweaty hair from Theera’s forehead.
“Hey cyar’ika. It’s Ori,” she says softly. The woman’s eyes focus a little, just enough to meet hers. She bumps their foreheads together. It was as much to comfort herself as much as the other woman. Non-mandos typically didn’t understand the meaning behind the gesture. She can’t squeeze her hand like she wants to - it’s being hooked up to IV tubing.
“I’m cold,” she mumbles. Some of it is adrenaline, some from fear, and the rest from the icy operating room temperature to keep the surgeons comfortable. Drenched as she is, it’s no wonder Theera is shivering.
Ori asks the wary tech for a warm blanket, terrified of overstepping and getting her shebs kicked out of the operating room. She’s promptly ignored in favor of his work. Dr. Loesch enters the room and the nurses titter around him while he ensures everything is prepped to his liking. Ori settles for as much skin to skin contact as she can get with Theera, trying to warm her, mumbling comforting nonsense into her ear as Loesch starts to work. A warming bassinet waits ominously against the wall for its prize.
A thin cry interrupts their mumbling and Theera’s eyes sharpen at the noise. Loesch holds the little thing over the curtain separating them indulgently, just for a moment. A boy, he says, and she and Theera find themselves mesmerized by the bloody little thing and his tiny squished face and flailing arms, already so angry at the world. He’s held up for a second, allowing Theera a cursory glance and then whisked away by the nurses to the bassinet. His mother is still paralyzed on the table and it makes it all the more unjust that she isn’t even allowed to touch her son, see him up close. The nurses at the bassinet laugh and coo, oblivious to Theera, who starts weeping pitifully. Fat tears slide down the side of her face, wetting the starched white sheet beneath her head.
Ori is in the middle of the absolute emotional chaos around her. Theera crying, Dr. Loesch talking with his assistant about weekend plans, and the nurses with the baby, who have turned back at the sound of crying to glare at them judgementally. She can practically hear them now. Serves her right, their looks say. She deserves it. The rage congeals around Ori, settling itself in her throat. This feeling is exactly what had put her in this place to begin with and she knows she has to control it, use it somehow. She watches them place a little bracelet around the infant’s ankle and scan it into a datapad. They don’t bother with Theera. It dawns on her then that if she’s lucky - incredibly lucky - she can use the Empire’s obsession with order against them.
She makes her way over to the bassinet under the ruse of joining the indulgent cooing that is going on, trying not to throw elbows before she’s kicked out of the room. The little boy’s leg is caught for a heel stick an she gets her chance. The number on the leg band is just visible, only for a second. She sends a prayer up to the Manda that she gets it right.
Taglist
@clonewarslover55 @simping-for-fives @808tsuika @jedi-mando @cherry-cokes-world @nelba @fractiouskat @passionofthesith
#PHEW THIS SUCKED TO WRITE UGH#how do people write long chaps like goddamn I'm drained and this took MONTHS#i suck basically lol#At Odds#Republic Commando#Kal Skirata
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Never too late - 6 - 7
A continuation of Leo and Regulus’ attempts (antics) to give Regulus the childhood he never had.
CW: Food talk
Please message me if you feel I need to add any content warnings
Rating: T
Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist
Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.
[This is currently unedited, and I'm not that happy with it, but also my writing mojo has decided it is vacay time so it is what is it]
6. Go to camp! You’ll make friends for life.
“Le! Did you order something?” Finn called, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen carrying a large box.
“Yeah, it’s the t-shirts,” Leo nodded, scraping the onions he’d just chopped into the pot. “Put it on the island for me please, babe.”
Finn looked down at the box, making a show of testing its weight before he looked back at Leo with wide eyes, “This seems like...a lot.”
After adjusting the temperature on the stovetop slightly, Leo washed his hands and made to inspect the delivery. “Err, yeah. Potts got wind of the plan and got all excited. Half the team are coming now,” he smiled sheepishly.
“Of course that happened,” Finn threw his head back with a laugh. “You might as well make it a thing.”
“A thing?” Leo repeated, throwing Finn a bemused look.
“Uhh huh,” Finn nodded.
“I’m gonna need more, babe,” Leo said, lifting one of the shirts out of the box and running the material through his fingers, humming a note of approval.
“More shirts? There’s like 50 here,” Finn frowned.
“No, love,” Leo laughed, shaking his head “More on what a ‘thing’ is.”
“Ohh, got you,” Finn chuckled, leaning against the counter. “I just meant, if half the team is coming anyway, you might as well invite the other half. Get the kids involved. You know, a thing.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Leo cocked his head.
“Well, I did go to Harvard,” Finn shrugged, rooting around in the fruit bowl to find a suitable pear. One that wasn't too big because Finn got bored of flavours quickly and could never finish them. One that wasn't too soft, because he hated the sticky mess on his hands. In the early days of their relationship, Leo had been excited for the adventures that were going to come with his boyfriends, but he hadn't been prepared for how much the little nuggets of information he would discover about them would mean to him. The satisfied smile that appeared on his Finn’s face as he procured the perfect one was infectious.
“Such big brain energy and yet he still can’t load a dishwasher,” Leo retorted, motioning to the stack of crockery that had been abandoned on the counter.
***
“I have no idea why I put up with you,” Regulus scowled, covering his eyes with his hands. “Okay, I promise I can’t see.”
“Because I’m your best friend, obviously,” Leo replied, making a stupid face to ensure that Regulus was, in fact, telling the truth, and began to lead him towards the back door.
“Obviously,” Regulus drawled. “Do I get a choice in this best friend business?”
“Well, you can try and resist it if you want, but I am incredibly loveable and inevitably you will have to succumb to my charm so you might as well just deal with it,” Leo said.
Regulus gave a resigned sigh, “I suppose as best friends go you aren’t too bad.”
Leo laughed, punching Regulus lightly in the shoulder before telling him to watch out for the step up into the back yard.
“I hope you know that if I break my neck, you will be paying for -” Regulus started.
“Wegggie!!” Harry shouted through a mouthful of graham crackers that James had been trying to buy his silence with.
“Is that?” Regulus pulled his hands from his face, his eyes going wide at the scene in front of him. Leo had to admit he may have gone a little overboard with the execution of the summer camp. What had started off as a few classic summer camp activities had turned into a carefully planned extravaganza. There was a climbing wall and he’d hired an events team that taught archery. Between the games of dodgeball and capture the flag, there would be time for tye-dying, friendship bracelet making, water balloons, tug of war and much more. Of course he hadn’t skimped on the food either: burgers, pizza, vegetable sticks, taco salad and hot dogs; there was a long buffet table laden with an endless supply.
Regulus pulled Leo back inside, tugging him further into the kitchen so that the crowd of Lion’s players and their families couldn’t see them. “Leo, this is too much.”
Leo looked at Regulus trying to read his friend, but the other boy was infuriatingly closed off. “Look, if you really don’t want this, I’ll go and tell everybody to enjoy themselves and we can get out of here.”
Regulus huffed out a breath, “It’s not that I don’t want to...it’s...it’s weird everybody being here. They are obviously just here because you asked them and I feel like an add on.”
“Okay, let me stop you right there,” Leo held up a hand. “You practically live at Kris’ house the amount of time you spend there with Avie. Celeste loves you like a seventh? eighth? child...honestly, I’ve lost track of how many children they’ve adopted at this point. You and Olli…”
“Alright, alright,” Regulus interrupted, “I get your point.” He cocked his head slightly, “Huh, I guess I didn’t realise how much I’ve settled here.”
“You need a second to process that or are you ready to go have some fun, because I think Harry might eat all the s’more supplies if we wait much longer.”
***
Leo leaned into Logan’s shoulder, smiling as he watched his boyfriend show Katie how to toast her s’more in the bonfire that crackled in front of them. He was admiring the softness of the French leaving Logan’s mouth, when Regulus plopped himself onto the large log they were sitting on, a sleeping Aveline clinging to him.
“Hey, Reggie,” Leo greeted, turning his soft smile to his friend. “You alright?”
“I’m good. I just wanted to say thank you,” Regulus nodded, shifting Aveline into a more comfortable position. Leo noticed that Regulus had added another 3 new friendship bracelets to his haul since he had last got a moment to catch up with him. “For all this. This day has been amazing. All of it. I’m not sure if summer camp would have been my thing really, but I never really got to do fun family garden parties either and this has been incredible. ”
Any reply that Leo was about to make was disturbed, by Aleandra dumping a water balloon over Marc’s head right in front of them, their loud screams causing Aveline to wake with a cry.
7.Decorate your room! Paint the walls, buy new bedding and pick some new accessories! Make it your space.
"Well," Leo set a pile of magazines on the bed with a soft thud. It was a little old-school, but he was adamant that it was easier to come up with a complete picture this way. "What do you like? You don't have to know exactly, but we can't go to Ikea without any idea." He let out a soft snort at the unintentional rhyme.
Regulus looked up at him, wide eyed, as if he'd just asked him to supply the solution for world peace. "I don't know," he shrugged, toying with the sleeve of his shirt.
"You must have some thoughts."
"I don't know," Regulus snapped. "I've never had to make these decisions before. There was no point liking anything, because our parents would do what they wanted either way." He spat the words, and despite how it made Leo feel he knew the anger was a sign of some sort of progress. Not even a few months ago, his friend had spoken about his childhood like it was just a different form of normal.
"I'm sorry," Leo apologised, climbing onto the bed next to Regulus.
"It's not your fault, is it," Regulus shrugged, tucking his knees to his chest.
"I shouldn't have pushed you for an answer," Leo clarified, moving the magazines out the way and dragging his laptop from the bedside table. “Look, how about we go through Pinterest and you can pick some pins you vibe with. I’m sure we’ll find a trend.”
“Yeah,” Regulus breathed, shuffling closer to Leo. “Yeah, okay.”
***
“What the hell, there’s more,” Regulus said in awe as they rounded another corner to be confronted by rows of rattan baskets.
“I think we’re nearly at the end.” Leo looked up from the map he was trying to follow, almost stumbling over the cart when Regulus came to a sudden halt.
“These are nice,” Regulus mused, picking up a walnut coloured weaved basket. “My towels will look nice in these.”
“I’m sure they would,” Leo chuckled. He shouldn’t have been so surprised by how quickly Regulus had gained an affinity for interior design considering how he had taken to honing his clothing style with such ease.
“Oh! But these are nice too.” Regulus turned to show Leo another basket, that was identical in every way except for being perhaps a shade lighter.
Leo groaned. They had been in the store for over 3 hours and the cart was overflowing. His friend was adamant he was going to pay his own way and considering the short amount of time he had played for Slytherin along with the legal fees to end his contract early, the man was having to learn to budget to be able to afford college. Leo had suggested that doing a couple of interviews would leave him with a fair buffer, but Regulus had wanted to put as much space between hockey and his new life as possible. Leo was supportive, but Regulus seemed to be having trouble getting out the habit of buying everything he wanted.
“Right, pick one and then close your eyes. We need to get out of here.”
***
“Up a little on the left,” Leo instructed, shaking his head as Regulus lifted the left side of the photo frame considerably. “No, not that much.”
“That’ll do.”
“It’s not straight!”
“Neither are you and you don’t see us complaining,” Regulus huffed as he adjusted the frame again.
“You’re just jealous,” Leo threw one of Regulus’ new cushions across the room, hitting him squarely in the back of the head.
“Eww,” Regulus deadpanned. “And please do not throw my things,” he glared, hugging the cushion to his chest.
Leo was about to make a comment back, but he was interrupted by Sirius clearing his throat in the doorway.
“Got you a present,” Sirius said, holding out a large bag.
“Sirius.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, his face set into a disapproving stare. “I told you -”
“Think of it as an early birthday present,” Sirius interrupted.
“My birthday is not for another 4 months.”
“Just take it. I promise I’ll let you do this the way you want, but you’ve got to let me buy you things every now and then too. That’s what big brothers do.”
Regulus sighed, crossing the room to take the bag from Sirius. “Thanks,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth lifting despite his best efforts. The smile spread further as he laid the mustard coloured herringbone throw he’d been salivating over in the small boutique they’d visited a few days prior.
“You’re welcome,” Sirius nodded. “Looks good in here, by the way. We’ll have to find you an apartment in New York that will be big enough to fit it all in.” he commented, walking away as he finished his sentence.
“I’m paying for the apartment!” Regulus called after him. Leo barked a laugh as Regulus ranted about stubborn humans on NHL wages. Regulus poked a finger at him. “You can be quiet. I know this was your doing.”
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This is such a cute idea! I’m addicted to making weirdly specific Spotify playlists so this is perfect. I have an ✨eclectic✨ music taste but my favorites are usually bedroom pop (mxmtoon, chloe moriondo, khai dreams, etc), romantic classical (think Debussy and Revel), and indie (although I like some Megan Thee Stallion, AC/DC, Nirvana, etc when I’m hyping myself up). As far as my personality goes, I’m pretty insightful and like to support people whenever I can, even if I don’t know them well. I can be a little chaotic sometimes, but I like to think it’s a chaotic good. I love tea, blankets, philosophy, deep conversations, the outdoors, and writing. I’m also an INFP and a Taurus :)
Sorry if that was too much, thank you so much! Take care of yourself and stay well
- Elle ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
( @snoozless ) you don’t understand how bad i want to be your friend. 😐😐 ok so you kind of get bonus 😀 but it rly might not be bonus because akfjakdkw. so, i gave you matsukawa!! but he’s not always like revered about so if u want a character lmk!! i am. in love w him tho. you’re so sweet you would balance him out and yall would be equally chaotic together.
he would have philosophical questions w u!! he might just be a little blunt & might accidentally cut the convo short, but he would listen to everything you said.
he’s used to a wide variety of music bc i’m convinced the seijoh playlists are absolutely fucking cracked like so loud. so he really could sit there and listen to anything. and i mean ANYTHING. like if you wanted to put on christian rock he’d awkwardly try to tap his foot on beat for you.
but, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna geek over you i feel like he’d be pretty private about the relationship. he’s not like secretive but he’s not gonna post you every two seconds yknow? he wouldnt put prom photos, but if yall went to look at the stars or go on a little hike he’d take a pic and youre wearing baggy sweats and one of his shirts and your hair isnt brushed for shit and it’s way too dark to properly make your face out and he’d put that shit on his main absolutely 😒
this man would be the kind of mf to look up his “crush’s” zodiac just for shits & giggles, so if he randomly knows a taurus fact, don’t question it<3 (he looked up your compatibility and he will take that to the grave)
issei is an infp idc. so yall got that in common.
he’s genuinely so pretty.
bc i took so long, i’m going to put descriptions for all the songs i love you thanks for requesting sorry for taking forever i’ll link the playlist and list the songs<3
1. silly girl- chloe moriondo
okay while this song is actually kinda sad, i think tHIS is pretty cute. issei comes off as this intimidating guy, and the more you get to know him the more you forget ab this idea of him you had or whatever? like the lyrics “i made him perfect, cause i wanted him to be” are really prominent in the point i’m tryna make because like even tho the lyric is obviously sad bitch shit, music is up for interpretation and this is like “hello ok he actually a real mf and shiiit maybe he cool😁✊”
2. nice boys- TEMPOREX
kinda sad. i don’t care how unemotional he might act, everyone has shit that brings them down. PLUS HES A PISCES THERES NO WAY HES NOT SAD SOMETIMES. this song just really taps into insecurities for him, and the song just gets under his skin in like a very therapeutic way. also “because he’s a pisces” some of his emotions are super intense so the “because he cares too much” line hits him fuckin hard
3. IV. sweatpants- childish gambino
this is some shit he listens to more with his team, absolutely. no doubt they blare this shit during weekly practice. but, he really really likes the song. so, when you’re hanging out and he has the aux? it’s one of the first ones he puts on. you two jam to it together. he’ll come up w dumb little dances to fit with certain lyrics (stole some of them from oikawa and hanamaki, but he won’t tell you)
4. you get me so high- the neighbourhood
okay unfortunately i must say him and hanamaki get fuckin faded in empty fields at two am all trashy like. but they make it look good idc. and if you smoke, cool, if you don’t he does not care. he always associated getting high with,,, getting high and everytime he listened to this song it just was one of his getting blazed jams, but now he’s got like a different kinda “euphoric” feel with loving you? like i said this bitch is a pisces even if he doesn’t overwhelm you with affection, he thinks ab you 24/7
5. 80’s makeout session- dacelynn
thIS SONG IS SO CUTE. but it’s p self explanatory. in love and also spare a kiss pls
6. can i call you tonight- dayglow
i feel like actually coming to terms with genuine feelings for someone would be kind of weird for issei. like no offense, but he sees it as kind of a pain in the ass. i genuinely think he would be someone to put his all into work or a task in front of him. he’s super intuitive, and constantly uses it to be better. whether it’s in volleyball or like cremating ppl i guess (HE WORKS INA FUNERAL HOME POST TIME SKIP IF U DIDNT KNOW). and it’s the same in relationships, but it’s also harder because he can’t have this complete clear head because you make his brain go kinda fuzzy. so, this song is like his little way of expressing that even tho he was like ‘internally conflicted’ this mf chose to go for it and that’s how much u mean to him
7. clair de lune, L. 32- claude debussy
i’m gonna be fucking honest with you. even though he’ll listen to anything, i really don’t think this man is looking up ‘classical romance study tunes’ playlists in his free time. he definitely enjoys the music, but that’s only if someone points it out to him. and he’s listened to you talk about it before, and watched you as you heard the piano and gauged your reactions and thought u were pretty cute he’s not gonna lie😼. so he definitely just looked up classical romance and picked the first recommended song and added it on there. he’ll dance w you a lil bit, but it wouldn’t be that quiet, intimate slow dancing in the dark you think would come w this song. itd just be a little sway as he hugs you from behind while you get water, or he twirls you once randomly with a laugh UGH I LOVE HIM
8. like real people do- hozier
ok. this one was fun for me. idc. double meaning lol. so this song is literally about two dead bodies in a bog and ,,, and he works in a funeral home PLS LMAOFJAJDJA I THINK THATS SO FUCKING FUNNY AND SO DOES HE. but also this song literally is my idea of love. this is my idea of love. and yall listen to it, with your stupid little death joke, but he looks at you and he’s just like ‘oh’. yknow? YKNOW?
9. BS- still woozy
like i said, i think he puts a lot into work. and he literally plays for a powerhouse school there’s no way he doesn’t practice a lot. so that means there’s a lot of time where he’s physically not there and definitely can’t text, because he’s trying to improve. and while he wouldn’t stop volleyball for someone else, he understands that you are like super amazing for being so Cool with him not being the most available. the song just reminds him of how compassionate you are and also he does miss u when he’s at practice YKNOW?
10. i <3 u- boy pablo
this one made me so fucking soft ew. ok. this song reminds him of you so so much. he’s totally okay being vulnerable with you? and even though he has pretty heightened emotions, he’s never felt like so strongly for smth other than like ??? volleyball and caring ab his siblings (BUT HE FEELS DIFFERENT FOR U THAN HE DOES FOR A VOLLEYBALL AND HIS SIBLINGS PLEASE😁). HE LUVVVVV YOU
11. heart-shaped box- nirvana
so many reasons. for one, simply fucking JAM. yall would scream this on a drive. if you ever got drunk together, this would be the first song you play. also, little lyrics remind you of each other. (the pisces lyric in the first and third verse, and even tho the flowers aren’t being used in a sweet sense in the song he does remember talking ab flowers w u, and now any flower is mentioned and he’s like “ah yes. my girlfriend.”)
12. pluto projector- rex orange county
FUCK. FUCK THIS SONG. GOD. NO. LIKE HE REALIZES HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. HE T E L L S YOU HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. the first time, he just sends you the name of it like ‘pluto projector <3’ and you listen and it’s so sweet and ur like ayo turn this shit up. and he adds it to your playlist, which definitely gets a smile from you. and then one night like two weeks later youre just laying together, and he’s running his fingers through his hair and he pulls away for a second to grab his phone and he turns the song on and you just listen to it in silence and it’s so fucking intimate. and he’s just like “i don’t think i’ve ever related to a song more” and you think he’s making a joke so you tell him to shut up (also jokingly) and he just laughs and it’s dark in his room and he’s playing with your hair again and he just goes “god, if you’re telling me to shut up over that i don’t even want to imagine how you’re gonna react when i tell you i love you” and it’s right around 3:10 in the song i’m literally so gone for him. bye you cry and try to hide it but he can tell HES PERCEPTIVE
13. i wanna be yours- arctic monkeys
okay for one, it’s a good song. it’s a song he absolutely let’s play in the background, just to cover the static lol. but also? ALSO? THE TITLE APPLIES TO YOU THE FUCK? it’s as if,,, he’s whipped,,
14. supermassive black hole- muse
hanamaki prolly showed him this song, and it’s one of his vibe songs. he will do falsetto while singing it if he’s in a really good mood and it just makes everyone laugh, including himself. it actually kind of grosses him out, because this song used to literally just be a song he would aimlessly go hard to but NOW his little bitch ass is like “you set my soul alight”? i guess i relate and “oh baby, i’m a fool for you” well, surely i’m not a fool but yea i get you muse sing it. it’s so gross. at this point he wants one thing that doesn’t make him think of you, just to prove that he’s not that gone, but he struggling
15. desperado- rhianna
i’m sorry to say it but this song makes him feel like a bad bitch LMAOOOOO. like if he’s ever getting pregame jitters or anything, he will just play this song. whether it’s on the speaker or in his headphones, he puts this shit on full volume and gets a lil too cocky LOL. this is also on the main seijoh playlist no doubt. he wants to share his bad bitch song w you, so you can aLSO feel like a bad bitch?? dUH
IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT BABES! IF YOU WANT ANY OF THE SONGS CHANGED (or even the character) LMK!! UR AMAZING ur so sweet it makes me ill
#haikyuu#haikyuu playlists#ikigaitooru playlists#matsukawa issei#mastukawa x reader#matsukawa playlist#haikyuu x reader
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What are your thoughts on people who goes all out on the aesthetic for their blogs? Do you think they’re have the right to express their creativity however they want? && Other than roleplaying, what’s your favorite hobby?
✨ @deductry. meme. still accepting!
17. What are your thoughts on people who goes all out on the aesthetic for their blogs? Do you think they’re have the right to express their creativity however they want?
i think its fine as long as aesthetic doesnt hinder the ability to make a reply i can read. some people really do be out here triple spacing their words, adding bold, italics, upside down letters, strikethroughs, underline, and everything else and for what???? for a reply that the kids i used to teach could write. and they were like 4 years old. lol. thats sad....... that’s when i know someone’s not confident in themselves
dont rly understand why ppl trend chase. ive noticed ppl putting dividers in their replies now and im just??? mystified???? what is this... what does it add to the reply.... which if ppl wanna do it then fine but please consider this: my blog is pretty and its bad enough ugly icons that dont match them are ruinin the vibe now mfs wanna add a border that is totally irrelevant to the actual reply???? i.......... im gonna get a divider / border like these 2001 old web ones and then force everyone to look at it on their blog then the concept becomes goofy
i think id be fine with aesthetics if they didnt involve those chunky dunky ass container themes with super busy backgrounds + 50 textures, the crispiest color psds, promos that all look Exactly alike, navigation that u cant see, 20 x 20 icons the size of a cheerio, 4px text, the shittiest formatting on this side of lady gaga's america, and actually gave some sort of idk. pizzazz to the muse.
like if the aesthetics are important then at least let them tell a story too. and authentic. not something thats bein done cuz everyone else is doin it. id like to think i go balls to the walls with my blog too but you walk into my blog and you know it’s a myspace era throwback because that’s what my muse is supposed to be.
everyone can do whta they want! but if its uglee imma call it dat so......
30. Other than roleplaying, what’s your favorite hobby?
im a musician before im anything else so im probably in my daw fucking around. producing something. ive recently gotten into ambient electronica / ambient techno production so im finding joy in stringing together a bunch of synths til i hit the 6 minute mark, adding random bitcrush effects, some percussion just so it looks like i actually did some work, maybe a vocal sample of someone whispering.......... and then i delete it gfkldjgslf. im actually working on a beat tape tho. its been a work in progress for the longest time. but if i actually managed to find my voice as an electronic music producer then i guess i could get somewhere. using a daw is new to me. im more of an instrumentalist. drummer and flutist, primarily. but i dont have any drums and my flute is at my grandmas so there's that..............
i also like to read!!! i buy like 3 - 4 books a month. havent bought any since like november. i only bought two i think. but its fine because ill always revisit my recent favorites. ummmmm... video games. i rly like those old school ass niche ps2 era games like mr. mosquito, space channel 5, kinetica, etc.
wow do i luv internet drama. so im probably reading up on someone’s dumb bullshit on reddit or something!! or youtube. i love internet drama, its my favorite thing on the internet. i live for watching people be the very worst!!! other than that??? i like to collect and try out different skincare and research ingredients cuz its just fun. might go to school to be an esthetician when this whole covid19 panera bread is over.
i love collecting obscure jazz records from taiwan.
#( 🌙 OOC! RULER OF THE VOLCANIC DIAMOND PLANET. ✨ )#/ i dragged a good bulk of the community but that's just how it has to be.#deductry
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