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7s3ven · 8 months

Note

Hii I loved your daughter of hades x luke fic when is part 2 coming out?? But I had an idea like what if something happened that got her mad and something happens with her flames like they turn black or blue and is like a really strong flame and then luke comes sees this and calms her down and people are like ohh woowww.. bcs he was the only one that could do that

Part 2 is coming out soon! :). For now, I’ll write a short(ish) one shot about your cute idea! 😽. This can be read as a standalone but it makes references to the og so if some parts don’t make sense, you know why.

( master list )

HELL-FIRE : part 1 / part 2 (in progress)

( this is a little spin-off from hell-fire )

Luke (PJO) x Hades! Reader

A/N : completely unrelated, but I believe I could write the most toxic things if I tried hard enough.

Warnings : injuries, y/n and luke making out at the end but I didn’t write it very descriptive just in case lol

—

Y/N was never one to participate in capture the flag. She always came up with a weak excuse to skip it and Chiron had to let her past in fear she’d blow up the camp. Again. It had happened a few times actually.

“Why won’t you play capture the flag?” Luke asked as he shoved a chip into his mouth. The pair were on their routinely midnight walks, which had become a regular thing after their first stroll. Y/N wasn’t so keen on getting caught again but Luke could be very persuasive.

“It’s just a game.” Y/N lightly scoffed, gripping the bluebird chip packet tightly so it didn’t fall out of her grasp. “I don’t see what the big deal is… there’s nothing appealing about it.” She mindlessly shrugged.

“Hm, I can think of a few reasons why you should play.” Luke grinned while Y/N arched an eyebrow, somewhat curious. “Firstly, I’ll be playing with you. Secondly, we’ll probably win. And don’t forget about the glory.”

“Glory is fine but you know what’s better? Not breaking a leg in a stupid game.” Y/N sarcastically smiled while Luke rolled his eyes. During Y/N’s first and only game, she had broken a leg. Granted, it happened while she was rolling down a steep hill.

“Come on, Blaze. You’ll love it.” He assured her, patting her back.

“I’ll hate it even more if you’re with me.” She grumbled in response, her tough facade never faltering. But Luke could see the apples of her cheeks turning pink and he noticed the way Y/N’s eyes darted to glance at him. She couldn’t help but let her eyes flicker to his lips for a split second.

“Why do you love such a game anyway? It’s a waste of time.” She shoved her hands into her pockets.

“Annabeth is captain and she’d be overjoyed if you came. I think she has a kiddy crush on you.” Luke chuckled to himself while Y/N rolled her eyes for what seemed like the fifth time in an hour.

“Nobody has a crush on me.” She uttered, kicking a small stone across the grass. Luke’s eyebrows raised and he paused.

“Okay… what does that make me then?”

Y/N quickly turned her head to look at him. She spluttered, tripping over her own words as her mind tried to decipher his statement. Y/N was always calm and collected but only Luke had seen this side of her. The flustered side, the embarrassed side. “You… you’re lying.” She finally decided on something to say.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play jokes on me, Luke.”

“You think my affection is a joke? Blaze, I literally get you flowers every day and watch you burn them then throw the petals away. Have you noticed how I don’t give flowers to anyone else?”

“It’s a stupid gesture.” She muttered, “Besides,” Y/N cleared her throat, looking away like she was embarrassed. “I don’t always throw the petals out… sometimes I keep them.”

“Oh, charming, witty, and a hopeless romantic. So, what’s the reason you hate capture the flag so much?”

“It’s stupid. That’s the only reason. People take it too seriously here.” Y/N signed, shoving the bag of chips into Luke’s arms.

“Play one game with me?” Luke asked. Y/N frowned, shaking her head.

“Not a chance. Nice try, though." Y/N briefly smiled before she walked back towards her cabin. Luke was quick to rush after her.

“One game. For Annabeth, at least. She likes your style of fighting.” He begged, blocking her path. He clasped his hands together, pleading her. Y/N sighed at his pitiful attempt but she was tired and every time she tried to step around him, he stopped her.

“Fine.” She snapped. Luke’s eyes lit up and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel her lips twitch into a small grin at his happy demeanour. “Good night, Luke.” She said, bumping his shoulder as she brushed past him.

“Night, Blaze.” He called out after her, “I can’t wait to kick Clarisse’s ass tomorrow!” Y/N huffed in amusement.

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” She uttered, yanking open her rickety cabin door. It creaked and Y/N almost cringed. She’d have to ask someone to fix it for her. The door handle was almost falling off too.

“Hey, Y/N, catch.” Luke unexpectedly tossed something red towards her. She barely managed to grasp the strange object. She stared down at it, shaking her head.

“Did you seriously just give me a pomegranate?” She asked, but she didn’t burn the gift this time.

Luke shrugged as he walked towards her once more. “I heard it’s your favourite fruit.” He said, shivering slightly in the cool breeze. It was, which was ironic considering the story about Hades and Persephone. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Blaze.” He tucked a stray lock of Y/N’s H/C hair behind her ear, smiling. He was far too close for comfort but Y/N’s body made no move to shove him away. She didn’t know if she even wanted to move.

“You should go, Luke. Before we get in trouble again.” She muttered. Luke cleared his throat, nodding.

“Right… yeah. I’ll leave.” His eyes flickered to her lips for a moment just as Y/N’s had before he thickly swallowed. “Sweet dreams, Blaze.”

The moment he was out of her sight, Y/N hurried into her cabin and slammed the door behind her. She buried her hot face in the palms of her hands, quietly groaning in frustration as she slid down the wall.

She was starting to fall for Luke.

Y/N fiddled with her metal helmet. She aimlessly rocked back and forth on her heels, taking notice of the gazes she was receiving. It was rare for Y/N to even be outside, let alone play a game of capture the flag.

She could see Luke talking to Annabeth and quickly excusing himself to jog over to Y/N’s side. “I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to show up.” He chuckled.

“This is stupid.” She muttered, scoffing.

“And yet you’re still here.” Luke slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, leading her towards Annabeth. “Hey, Annie, look who decided to join us.” The young girl’s eyes lit up and she sent Y/N a small smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming, Luke?” Annabeth questioned.

“I only convinced her yesterday.” Luke shrugged, “But she’s joining us now so will that change the plan or?”

“Of course it will.” Annabeth sighed, annoyed with Luke.

“If it makes it easier,” Y/N piped up, “I can just guard the flag.” Annabeth bit down on her lower lip as she thought long and hard, mumbling to herself. She finally decided on an idea.

“I have a better position for you. You’ll be taking Luke’s place.”

“What?” The brunette boy behind Y/N questioned, “But… huh? How come I have to guard the flag? You know how much I like attacking!”

“The other kids are scared of Y/N,” The young Athena girl turned to Y/N, “No offence. Whether we let Y/N guard or flag or let her take the opposing team’s one, we’ll still win because we have an advantage that the red team doesn’t.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, “And that is?”

Annabeth heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes at her brotherly figure. “We have the daughter of Hades who’s rumoured to be quite a good runner.”

“You did track?” Luke turned his head to face Y/N. She silently nodded. Annabeth ushered Luke off and he led Y/N over to his squad, which was temporarily hers. “Stay safe.” He said as he checked Y/N’s armour for the fifth time in two minutes.

“What are you, man? Her mother?” Chris teased, shoving Luke. “Stop worrying about her. We’ll keep your girl safe.” Luke sent his friend a warning glare.

“One scratch,” He said, “And I’ll tackle you.” Chris raised his arms in surrender.

“You got it, captain.”

Y/N fumbled with her heavy sword. She bit the inside of her cheek, watching as her teammates effortlessly fought off the opposing team. The words Annabeth whispered in her ear swirled around in her mind.

“You’re our advantage, Y/N. I need you to lie low and don’t give your strengths away. Act weak, to put it simply. Once you reach the flag, go full out.”

Y/N’s sword clashed with another and she pushed the girl back, causing her to stumble. Chris disarmed the captain of the squad and she reluctantly gave up due to the sword being held at her throat.

The game felt like hours to Y/N. Every turn they took proved a new challenge. Y/N had opted to hiding behind trees to save her energy, something she wasn’t proud of but Annabeth had full faith in her. She didn’t want to let the poor girl down.

“No sign of Clarisse.” Chris said, expecting the curly-haired girl to jump out with her spear. But she didn’t, only confusing the blue team more. “She usually hunts here for the first two hours or so.”

Y/N licked her dry lips. She was at the back of the group but when she spoke, everybody turned in unison to look at her with hawk-like eyes. “They most likely changed their tactic too.” She said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“So if she’s not here,” Chris mumbled.

Y/N nodded, finishing his sentence. “Then she’s going for our flag.”

Luke, on the other hand, wasn’t having nearly as much fun as Y/N. He groaned as he circled aimlessly around the flag he was forced to guard. He knew Annabeth was lurking around somewhere with that invisible cap of hers.

A twig snapped, earning Luke’s attention. His head snapped towards the sound. The forest seemed to grow quiet; the birds stopped chirping and the wind that had been howling in his air for the last hour floated away. He furrowed his brows, taking a careful step forward.

There was another snap. Luke called out to nobody in particular as he adjusted his grasp on his sword. When nothing happened, he turned back to the flag only to see that it was gone from its position perched on the rocks.

Luke ran forward, reaching out a hand to grab Clarisse’s shirt. His fingers barely wrapped around the fabric but she pushed forward and Luke lost his grip “Shit!” He yelled as he watched Clarisse run off with the flag. He angrily kicked a rock, knocking it into a nearby tree.

“Luke, what’s wrong?” Annabeth walked into the clearing, removing the hat her mother gave her.

“Clarisse has the flag.” Luke seethed, clenching his jaw. Embarrassingly enough, she stole it from right under his nose. Another one of their teammates crashed through the bushes, loudly panting and wheezing.

“Y/N has the red flag!” They exclaimed. Luke and Annabeth exchanged a look, knowing that they could still win this game if Y/N moved quick enough.

The said H/C-haired girl sprinted through the vegetation, gritting her teeth as she willed her legs to move faster. Vines and stray branches slapped her in the face, cutting her cheeks and grazing her sun-deprived skin.

The armour was slowly her down and she quickly removed her helmet, letting it crash to the ground. Her sword and shield was next. She could hear the blue team cheering in the distance as she ran, her lungs burning and her ears ringing from pushing her body past its limit.

She spotted Clarisse up ahead, also holding a flag. It was a race to see who could get to the border first. Y/N wildly panted as she approached the safe zone, not daring to slow down. She could see the fury in Clarisse’s eyes as Y/N impulsively jumped over the border in a last desperate attempt, not thinking much of it.

She hit the ground harshly, rolling and hitting a few rocks. She hard Clarisse scream in frustration, throwing the blue flag to the floor in anger.

Y/N’s teammates helped her to her feet, slapping her on the back and loudly congratulating her. But an Ares boy wasn’t as happy with Y/N’s win as her team was.

He blindly slashed his dagger at her, aiming for her face but Y/N quickly moved. The dagger cut her arm instead, splattering blood everywhere. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/N screamed, grabbing the boy’s dagger and tossing it at his shield. The metal loudly clattered against each other, causing the campers around her to flinch. “You almost slashed my face!”

“It’s not like it was worth anything anyway.” The arrogant Ares boy brushed her anger off. Y/N scoffed, taking a step towards him.

“The whole point of this stupid game is that it’s a mock fight. It’s pretend. You don’t have to actually try and slice someone in half.”

“It’s not just a stupid game.”

“You almost killed me over a game that requires you to capture a flag. So yeah, I’d say it’s stupid. And idiotic.”

He swiftly punched her. Y/N was knocked back by the force. She gasped in disbelief, feeling thick blood trail down her chin. “Are you insane, or something?!” She exclaimed, standing up. “Mentally impaired? Mentally challenged? Psychotic perhaps? The game is over, so stop trying to fucking kill me!” Her voice increased in volume the more she spoke. She could feel tendrils of rage slither up her body, wrapping around her and refusing to let go.

“You Ares kids are just like your father! Always so overconfident and obsessed with glory!”

“Like you’re any better! You have Hades as your father.” He tauntingly shoved her, “You didn’t exactly win the lottery either. At least I have siblings, you spoiled only child! The guys were right. You are pretty but you’re also a bitch. I’m surprised Luke tolerates you.”

Suddenly Y/N’s armour was melting. Thick droplets of metal pelted to the floor to join the small puddles of blood and the other campers stepped back when they spotted a small group of flames dancing across the grass.

Only, the fire wasn’t pink or blue or red this time. It was black.

“Oh, shit.” An Athena girl muttered, stumbling backwards. She grabbed another Hermes boy, clutching onto his arm. “Get Luke. Go find Luke!” She tried to calm Y/N down but nothing was working. If anything, it only made things worse.

“I don’t get why everybody’s so scared of you.” The Ares boy continued to taunt her. He circled around her, waving his sword as he laughed. “You aren’t even that strong. I’ve never even seen you play capture the flag. Is it because you’re scared you’ll ruin your nails? Or are you secretly weak?”

“Shut up.” Y/N muttered, glaring at him. It was no secret that Hades had a temper that rivalled Ares’. Unfortunately, Y/N inherited it.

“I bet daddy doesn’t even like you. You probably annoy him. I mean, you don’t fit here either. You should join your dad in hell. That’s where you belong.”

“And you belong in the infirmary with a broken neck.” Y/N snapped. The flames below her crackled, reaching out for anything to burn. You could practically see the heat rise from the fire and another Ares kid yelped in pain when the flames’ heat ate away at her leg, almost melting her flesh and creating a sizzling sound. But she was a meter away from the fire.

“Don’t get too close.” Clarisse warned anybody who tried to interfere. “It’s too hot.” The fire was slowly making a circle around Y/N and the boy, whose name Y/N finally remembered was Jordon.

Luke barged past the trees, quickly walking towards Y/N with large, meaningful steps. The flames made a path for him, like snakes that knew not to harm him.

“What the fuck, man?” Luke harshly gripped Jordon by the front of his shirt.

“Oh, her boyfriend’s come to rescue her. Hooray.”

“Shut your mouth.” Luke grumbled, dropping Jordon and scoffing. “Blaze, let’s go. Get your nose and arm patched up.” He wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, leading her away from the growing crowd.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, asshole.” Jordon sneered, “You’re getting soft, Luke. And for what? A little slut whose only achievement is having Hades as a father? She’s probably a crack whore too.”

Y/N’s temper finally snapped.

She whipped around, ignoring Luke’s warning. She drove her hardened fist into Jordon’s face. “That’s for calling Luke an asshole.” She muttered, grabbing onto the sides of head and slamming his nose into her knee. “That’s for calling me derogatory names.” She finally kicked him between the legs. Everybody watching winced in pain as Jordon fell to his knees. “And that’s for punching me, shit face!”

Her flames exploded once more, causing another cluster of panic. Luke quickly took action, grabbing Y/N by her shoulders and spinning her around. He knew words wouldn’t be enough to distract her so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her.

It was a stupid idea but her flames grew gentle once more, morphing from black to pink. The kiss was a quick one as Luke pulled back, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. But Y/N grabbed him by his necklace and pulled his forward, kissing him once more.

Chris whistled loudly from the sidelines, “Ay! Get it, man!”

Y/N’s lips tasted like metal and Luke realised he should’ve cleaned the blood off her face before kissing her. The red liquid stained his skin when he pulled away for the second time, gazing at Y/N with a vicious urge to kiss her until her lips bled. Unfortunately, Chiron arrived before Luke could sneak Y/N off.

“What’s going on here?” Chiron looked at Y/N’s injured face then at Jordon who was picking up his bloody dagger with a bruised hand. Finally, Chiron’s eyes landed on Luke’s face. Blood trailed from his mouth and smeared around his cheeks. Without context, he looked like he had just devoured somebody.

“Sir, Jordon cut Y/N’s arm, though he was aiming for her face, and punched her even after the game ended. Then he started calling her names. And uh, Luke calmed her down… somehow.” Someone from the blue team piped up, earning a glare from Jordon.

“I think it’s very obvious what Luke did to calm her. You three, see me after Y/N is treated.” Chiron demanded. Luke led her away, teasingly grinning.

“So, you wanna talk about what just happened?” He asked. Y/N scoffed, pulling him behind the Hermes cabin. His back was pressed harshly against the wood as Y/N clenched her jaw.

“You are infuriating, Luke.” She poked his chest, “And annoying. And obnoxious. And you are practically the bane of my existence… so why do I want to kiss you so bad?”

After processing her words, Luke didn’t waste a second in pulling her closer towards him. Y/N kissed him back with all her pent-up anger, frustration, and hatred towards nobody in particular and Luke welcomed her rough approach.

“Let’s get your nose and arm fixed up.” Luke uttered, not wanting to ignore Y/N’s injuries. She reluctantly followed him into the infirmary and sat down on a nearby bed. “So, was my calming technique good?” He teased.

Y/N shrugged. “It was alright.” She spoke with a joking tone and Luke grinned as her hair flared pink again. He loved watching those brightly-coloured flames, especially when he was the cause of them.

PJO TAG LIST (why is there a 50 user limit 😡) : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

#luke castellan x you #enemies to lovers #annabeth chase #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #pjo show #percy jackson series #camp half blood #ares percy jackson #hades greek mythology #greek mythology #hermes pjo

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so-long-soldier-writes · 1 year

Text

Do You Believe in Soulmates, Darling?

poly!mikaelsons x reader

summary: after waiting a thousand years to find their soulmates, the mikaelsons find it in mystic falls. one thing though - they all share the same lover. | request

word count: 7k (I don’t know how this happened)

tags: soulmates, fluff, human!reader

It is Kol that sees you first. He is standing in the town square, observing how people are in the twenty-first century, and how much has changed since he’d last been undaggered. He hadn’t really planned on being out that day, but Klaus was getting unruly in the mansion, needing quiet time to paint. Kol wasn’t in the mood to be on the receiving end of his anger again, so he scurried out the door and decided to explore the town.

It’s peaceful and no one bothers him. No siblings, nor vampires, nor townspeople. For once, the inhabitants of Mystic Falls mind their own business.

By nearly three o’clock, he still occupies the square. Klaus was probably over his anger hours ago, but Kol finds he quite likes the scene. Despite enjoying the time away, though, he knows he should go home soon before a sibling catches up to him. One cannot escape the family for too long; that’s the blessing and curse of family. With a sigh, he stands up to leave, sparing one last glance to the park before him.

Thank god for that last look. Had he not taken it, he wouldn’t have noticed you. That would be a missed connection never known, but to secretly haunt him forever.

You, with your gentle smile as you look at the girl to your left. The way your eyes roll at something she says. The way you walk gracefully towards him, though he knows that’s not where you’re headed. Suddenly, something inside him wishes it were. Something fluttering in his chest; something that starts to beg for your attention. He stares at you as if his gaze would somehow attract yours.

“Are you daft? Kol! Hello?!” None of the words register to him. However, the swift hit to the head does.

Kol whips around to see his sister. Her hands open to him in frustration.

“I’ve been calling you for ages, standing right beside you. What are you even looking at?”

“Nothing,” he says, almost stutters.

“Certainly not nothing to have your attention like that.” Rebekah scoffs, then tries to follow his line of sight.

By then, you had dipped into a store. Kol secretly curses his sister for the distraction.

“That bird over there, you were seeing?” There’s a bluebird standing where you just were.

“No.”

“Then whatever in the name of-”

“Just a girl, Bekah. So like I said, nothing.”

“Oh? A girl’s caught your attention?” She snickers, “tell me, is she pretty?”

“Can you bugger off?”

“Why don’t you just answer?”

“Because I-” he stops upon seeing you again. You and Caroline tumble out of the store laughing, clutching onto each other’s shoulders. He listens to the words he sees leave your lips.

“That was so weird,” you mutter.

“People here are so strange sometimes,” Caroline agrees with your statement.

“Because you what?” Rebekah’s voice cuts back in. When Kol doesn’t answer, she follows his gaze again. “Caroline Forbes?”

“No, the girl beside her.”

A tease is prepared on the tip of her tongue, but upon seeing you, it’s gone. The two Mikaelsons are quiet for a moment as they watch you and Caroline continue to laugh.

“My, she is pretty,” the blonde finally admits. “Go talk to her.”

“Do you really think it’s wise for me to go over there with Caroline Forbes right there?”

“Well if you don’t now, you could lose her forever!”

“Or I could lose my life when her blonde friend rips my head from my neck!”

“You never know until you try.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea what will happen if I do that.”

“Caroline won’t kill you because then she’ll lose brownie points with our brother.”

“Fair point, Bekah, but-” He’s interrupted by two ringing phones. Specifically, his and his sister’s. “Bloody hell. Almost went all day without a summoning.”

“Who’s calling you?”

“Klaus.”

“Elijah’s got me. Guess we have to go back now. Wish your pretty girl farewell.”

Kol rolls his eyes at her words. He steals one last glance at you before following his sister to what he hopes isn’t some new brand of chaos.

◇◇◇◇

“So is it true?” You turn to your best friend.

“What?”

“That Klaus has a thing for you?”

She slouches in her next few steps, “really?! Y/N! As if I hadn’t had this conversation so many times.”

“Well, is it?”

“Ugh. I don’t know! I think he does, but trust me, I don’t feel anything for him back!”

“Aw,” you joke, “why not give him a chance? He could be your soulmate for all you know?”

She lets out a sharp laugh, “no way! In fact, Klaus has no soulmate, and do you know why?” She doesn’t give you a chance to answer before saying, “because I don’t think he even has a soul.”

“Caroline!”

“Am I wrong?”

“I- I don’t know, I’ve never met the guy!”

“Well good. Avoid him. He can be charming, I’ll give him that, but it doesn’t take away the fact that he’s a killer.”

“He can’t be that bad. We’ve all killed once or twice.”

“First of all, yes, he is. Second, no, we haven’t. I have. You have not, and that will stay that way.”

“Maybe I have, you don’t know that.”

She snorts, “You’re too sweet for that. And besides, even if you have, you’d tell me right away with your guilty conscience.”

“I do not have a-”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Fine, I might. But don’t mistake that for me not having fire, because I can assure you, I do.”

“Oh I know you do. That’s what makes us such good friends. But you need to remember that you’re human, so you still need to be careful.”

“I know, I know!”

“Which includes talking about Klaus, because he could be listening.”

“Sorry,” you try to hide your smirk, “I won’t ask about the big bad vampire again.”

“Good.” Caroline’s not at all convinced that this’ll be your last question about them, but at least it’ll be the last for today.

Ever since the Mikaelsons have arrived in Mystic Falls, you’ve been curious about them. It’s hard enough keeping you out of the Salvatore drama, but that difficulty increased tenfold when the original family came into play. With you and Matt being the only two humans left in the friend group, they’re very protective of you. You, even more-so than Matt. Matt’s met most of them by working at the grill, but the girls do their best to hide your existence from the four siblings. They all swear that if they ever find you, nothing good would happen.

◇◇◇◇

“You two have been out all day, where could you have possibly gone?” Elijah questions as soon as he sees his two youngest siblings enter the mansion.

Kol already has his answer ready, “well seeing as Klaus was about ready to kill us all this morning, I decided it would be in my best interest to get away from him.”

“He’s been steady since one. It’s past three now.”

“Lost track of time, I guess. Tell me, what is it you wanted?”

“Why? Have something to get back to you?”

Rebekah, who had left to fetch a glass of bourbon, replies, “yes, actually. I was quite occupied before you called.”

“You two? Together? Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” the eldest raises his eyebrows. “Hopefully not planning a kill in the square?”

“On the contrary, dear brother. But unfortunately for you, it’s none of your business. So again, what is it for which you called?”

“Ever so fiesty, Rebekah. Worry not, we just wanted to make sure you weren't starting anything."

"What? That's it?"

"What kind of older brother would I be if I don't check up on my younger, more troublesome siblings?"

"You called us both home for that?"

"What’s got you so bitter, sister? Mystic Falls isn't so interesting that you should be so upset."

"Not to you, but this time, we actually did find something interesting, thank you!"

"Oh, do tell, Rebekah," her other brother asks as he fetches his own drink.

"Doesn't matter now that we'll never see her again," Kol mutters, sharing an annoyed look with the blonde.

"Her?"

Rebekah glares, "yes, a girl. But Kol's right, doesn't matter." She swallows down the rest of the liquor in one gulp.

The two eldest brothers are too confused to question further. Kol takes this as a chance to retreat to his room, while Rebekah, after one more look at Elijah, leaves to hers.

"What girl could have stolen the attention of our two siblings so quickly?"

"Doubt there is one at all. They just wanted a reason to get away," Klaus snaps with a tone full of anger.

Elijah detects a hint of jealousy, but says nothing. Nor does he share about his curiosity for this supposed girl that infatuated them both.

◇◇◇◇

Two days later, you’re spotted in the square again, this time, by Elijah himself. At first glance, he makes no connection between you and whomever his siblings saw, but rather takes in the sight of you. You are sitting by the fountain, legs crossed on the cement, and a hand reaching into the water. A stack of books are in front of you, the one on top open, and a notebook to your left. You pay no attention to them, though, and keep your eyes trained on the small waterfall. The sight of a human so seemingly relaxed in such a busy and perilous town has him unable to draw away his attention. He watches you carefully from the square’s metal bench, far enough that you could not catch his eye.

Only a mere five minutes pass before you have company. A girl Elijah recognizes - April Young - touches your shoulder lightly. You turn to her with a smile as she starts to speak. Curiosity kills him, so Elijah tunes in to listen.

“If someone finds you out here, they’re not going to be happy.”

“I don’t care, April, I’m so bored. I can’t be inside all day just because they’re scared I’m going to encounter vampires.”

“Shh! You know they could overhear you, right?”

“It’s fine! They have no reason to hurt me, I’m just minding my own business.”

“They don’t need a reason to hurt anyone, Y/N, they just do. They drink blood, remember?”

“Okay, sure, point taken. But since I apparently have a team of protectors, I should be fine, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“And, hey, you’re human. Why are you allowed to talk to them? Who’s the girl again? Rebekah?”

“Y/N, be quiet! Yes, I talk to them, but it’s because they found me first and dragged me into all this. And Matt’s been dragged in almost since day one. You haven’t been discovered by them yet, and we all need to keep it that way.”

“So boring! I want to be in on the fun.”

“It’s not fun, Y/N. I’m serious. None of them will be gentle if they find you; they’re all dangerous.”

You sigh, giving up on arguing with the girl.

“You know what they say, ‘curiosity killed the cat’,” April says.

“Okay, but they also say, ‘satisfaction brought it back’,” you finish, eyebrows raised.

April rolls her eyes, “stay out of it. In fact, I’m texting Caroline right now that you left your house if you don’t go back right now.”

“I’m not going back, I’m studying here.”

“Study at home.”

“No.”

Immediately, she starts to dial Caroline. In an instant, you pack your books back into your bag. “See you later, buzzkill.”

The girl hangs up, but doesn’t leave until you do. You know better than to try and win a fight against both of them, so you head home, missing the square already.

Elijah knows he shouldn’t follow you. Caroline could be on her way; April’s in the distance. Yet, he can’t watch you walk away, either. He must at least know your name, or else it might kill him. At the very least, he could compel the conversation out of your mind as soon as he hears it.

He waits until you’re alone to approach. Probably not the best way to do it, but he doesn’t know how many there are keeping you hidden in your supposed “team of protectors”. And this way, it would be easier to compel, should it come to that. So, as you travel down the sidewalk, humming to yourself, he suddenly calls out to you,

“Excuse me, miss.”

You turn quickly towards the voice. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the handsome stranger. “Um, hi.”

“I mean you no harm, but I saw you in the square just a little bit ago, and I have to know your name.”

You hesitate, unsure if you should give it.

He continues, “I know this is quite random, but I truly do not wish to frighten you. I saw you by the fountain, unbothered by the world around you. The screams of children, the barking of dogs, but nothing disrupted your focus from the gentle flow of water. I could tell it brought you peace, and I could see the secret you harbored to jump in and enjoy it. It was beautiful, not to mention the beauty that you are, yourself. So, apologies if I am crossing a line, but I can’t help but wonder what name to put on this delicate soul that has imprinted on my own.”

You stare at him, speechless from his words. Never has anyone said such beautiful things to you, and in such an alluring accent, no less.

“My apologies, love. I fear I have said too much.”

“N-no! Forgive me, I’ve just never had a man tell me I’m beautiful before.”

“That is quite a shame. Sure they just have never told you out loud.” He walks closer to you, feeling a bit more confident that you’re not afraid.

A blush rises to your cheeks, but you’re still unable to form a response. “I-I, um… Y/N. My name.”

He repeats your name, tasting it on his tongue. “Lovely name. Lovely name for a lovely girl.”

“Thank you. And what’s yours, may I ask?”

Elijah hesitates. It hurts his heart knowing he’ll have to compel this conversation from your mind, but at least, he can give you his name before he does. “Elijah Mikaelson.”

“You- you’re a Mikaelson?”

“Afraid I am.” He scans your face for fear, which he wholeheartedly expected. However, nothing.

“You’re the first I’ve gotten the pleasure to meet. I’ve been curious, I’ll admit, but my friends tell me to stay away,” you pause, “which you probably found out from my conversation with April a few minutes ago. Oops.”

“It’s alright, love. I won’t tell a soul of your secret.”

“Thanks,” you smile, “I hate being cooped up in the house all day. You were right - I did want to jump in that fountain.”

“You should’ve. I bet the joy on your face would have been unmatched.”

You swallow hard. You’ve never been good at taking compliments. Especially not those given to you by a handsome man who has lived long enough to see thousands of beautiful things. Never would you have expected to be one of those things. “I think I should’ve, too.”

Suddenly, you get a text. In a brief glance, you see it’s Caroline. “Oh crap.”

“Is everything alright?”

You sigh, “it’s Caroline, asking me to send a picture of myself in my kitchen, with an egg in my hand, and a spoon on my head. I guess I have to go.”

“Such an odd request,” he wonders out loud.

“She likes to put me up to things like this to prove I’m at home. It’s something I won’t have in my pictures already, and have to do that instant. If I don’t get it done in five minutes, she comes over.”

“Well I guess I better let you leave, then.”

“Unfortunately, yes. But I liked meeting you, Elijah.”

He smiles, “you too, Miss Y/N.” He steps forward and takes your palm to kiss it. In a deep breath before he starts to compel you, you suddenly interrupt him.

“Wait! I’m way more than five minutes away. Crap! She’s gonna catch me.”

He shouldn’t offer. He shouldn’t know where you live. Yet, the idea of you getting caught out of your house worries him. He may never see you again if that happens. “I could, perhaps, take you home? Could get you there much quicker than if you were to walk.”

“You would do that?”

“I owe you that little, being the reason you might get caught otherwise.”

You blush at the thought of him picking you up, but try to force it away. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” He picks you up bridal style, and before you know it, you’re on your porch.

“Thank you.” You smile, then check your phone. “Oh, shoot! Two minutes left.” You’re quick to unlock your door and throw it open. “Come in and help me find an egg!”

Surely you know the rules about those words pertaining to vampires and one’s home, yet you said them without hesitation. You didn’t stick around for him to question you, either, and instead ran to complete the quest. Slowly, he tests the entryway, and enters with no resistance. He then finds you in your kitchen digging through the fridge, then pulling out an egg. As quickly as you can, you take a selfie and send it to Caroline.

“Whew!” You breathe out, then notice him, “hi.”

“You completed your challenge?”

“Hopefully! But she might still come by because it was April that called her.”

“So I should probably leave.”

You bite your lip, not wanting him to go.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you invite me inside?”

“Because I needed you to find an egg. Which I found myself, so thanks,” you joke.

He smiles, but only for a second, “I’m serious.”

“I don’t know, I trust you.”

“Why? I’m a Mikaelson. The very family that your friends told you to avoid.”

“Well maybe I don’t like being told what to do. And maybe you don’t seem so bad to me.”

“I would like to prove your feelings right. I wish I could.” He says truthfully, catching your eyes.

You start to look back, but then his words hit you. I wish I could. You straighten, then look away from his gaze. “Don’t compel me.”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare compel me to forget this. I don’t want to forget this. I don’t want to forget you. You, or your smile, or the things you’ve said. Please don’t take it away from me.”

“Y/N-”

“Please.”

He takes a deep breath. It must be done, but he hates it. He doesn’t want you to forget. In fact, he wants to know you deeper. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t. I won’t tell, I promise. If anything, compel me to never forget.”

“Y/N-”

“‘Lijah, don’t.”

The nickname you’ve already given him weakens him. It renders him unable to finish the task; there’s no way he can force himself to compel you now. “Alright.”

“Wait, really?”

“If you’re sure you want to remember, but you’re sure you’ll never tell.”

“I promise. And I won’t say that I invited in a Mikaelson, either.”

He chuckles, “that would be wise.” He kisses your hand again. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.”

“You too. And thanks for taking me home.”

“Of course, love.”

After he leaves, you collapse on your couch, head swirling with thoughts of him. The words he said: how he described your time at the fountain, the beauty he saw in you. His own appearance: kind eyes, small wrinkles under them from a lack of sleep or hundreds of lifetimes lived, or both, a perfectly neat suit, the dark blue ring fitted on his finger. The way he watched you take Caroline’s picture with a smile on the edge of his lips. How he kissed your hand gently as a parting.

Your cheeks are hot with blush, not to mention the heat you feel throughout your body. Butterflies are alive in your stomach. It all makes you feel so silly, but some part of you whispers that it’s love at first sight.

◇◇◇◇

The minute Klaus hears the door open, he’s already yelling, “another sibling spending hours out and about in Mystic Falls. Where in the bloody hell have you been all day, Elijah?”

Elijah enters the room to find Klaus standing beside another painting, while the two other siblings sit on the couch. All three have glasses of bourbon and are sipping carefully. “What’s going on?”

“For once? Nothing. We all just happen to be here.”

“Where have you been, Elijah?” Rebekah turns around in her seat to question him.

Before he can answer, Klaus chuckles, “let me guess! Out with a girl. You only wear that smile when you’ve found a girl to fancy.”

“Niklaus, I have not-”

“Oh don’t try, I’ve known you for a thousand years!”

“Better not be my girl, mate,” Kol mutters, though his tone isn’t rough like Klaus’.

“Your girl is my girl, too, Kol. Remember that.”

“Heaven’s sake, you all are idiots.” Klaus turns back to his work, ignoring the three.

Elijah ignores him right back, and instead looks down to the others. “Describe this girl you saw. Everything you remember.”

So, Kol and Rebekah do. Everything from your appearance, to the sound of your voice, and to the way you walked. The more they described, the more it sounded like the ‘you’ Elijah was with all day. When he admits this, their faces pale.

“There’s no way all three of you idiots have fallen in love with the same girl,” Klaus mutters, still listening despite his annoyance.

“It’s happened before, brother. Remember Mary?”

“I remember, Bekah, but that doesn't mean it’s plausible to happen again.”

“I think it is entirely plausible,” Kol admits, “in fact, I think this goes deeper than it did with Mary.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“Something draws me to her. And it’s like I know her, yet I don’t at the same time. Do you guys feel this too, or is it just me?”

“No, I definitely feel it,” Elijah says, “and spending time with her today felt so natural. Like it was something I could never tire of.”

“You three sound so stupid. Talking like this girl, that two of you have never actually met, is your soulmate or something.”

“Well maybe you need to see her, Klaus. You’ll be in love instantly, I promise.”

Klaus rolls his eyes one more time at his youngest brother before going back to his painting. He refuses to admit the curiosity he feels towards you, and instead plays on animosity. His siblings don’t give up, though, and continue talking about their feelings for you until they all part to go to bed.

The following day, Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah actively seek you out in hopes of inviting you to dinner. They spent the morning planning that they’d find you and convince you to come over, where they could all gain your trust and get to know you better. The difficult part of this was getting you alone to talk. Elijah had warned his siblings about what you had said and told them to keep a close eye on their surroundings. He did also mention how excited you were to meet a Mikaelson, though, and said to use this to their advantage if one of them finds you instead of himself.

So, in three different parts of the city, the siblings fan out and keep their eyes peeled for your presence. Shouldn’t be that hard to find; they’ll just follow the pull of their hearts.

◇◇◇◇

For ten minutes, you’re able to sneak away, just long enough to visit your favorite store on the street corner. After meeting Elijah yesterday, the thought of being stuck in your house all day sounds miserable, and you are prepared to risk your friends’ wrath to see him again. Granted, inside the little shop is probably not the place you’d find him, but being out in the open at least makes it seem possible.

You are looking at a row of necklaces when a man comes up beside you. You don’t see his face, yet he doesn’t seem threatening to you, so you’re not too worried.

“That color would look beautiful on you,” he says aloud.

“Me?” You glance around to see if he’s talking to someone else.

“Yes, darling. I mean you.”

You blush instantly. “Thank you.”

“Let me get it for you.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. It must be expensive!”

“Not a problem for me. I happen to come from a well-off line.”

“Oh do you now?” You turn to face him fully. “And what line would that be?”

He smiles at you, then plucks the necklace from its place and brings it to the counter. Immediately after buying it, he’s fastening it around your neck. “As expected, you look beautiful.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“How could I not? It was made for you.”

“You’re too kind.” You reach your hand out for him to shake, “Y/N L/N.”

Instead of shaking it, he presses a kiss to the back, “Kol Mikaelson.”

He watches your eyes light up, just as Elijah said they would. “Mikaelson?”

“So you’ve heard of me?”

“Heard of you? Definitely.”

“And I heard you met my brother yesterday. God, he would not stop talking about how beautiful you are.”

You blush deeper at the thought of Elijah talking about you to his family. Either that, or it’s because Kol’s still holding your hand gently. You’re not sure.

“Say, Y/N, would it be possible I could invite you to dinner? I would love to get to know you better, and I know Elijah would love to see you again. Bekah, too, has a curiosity.”

“I, um…” you so desperately want to, but fear your friends finding out. “I want to, but I don’t know if I can.”

“If it’s Caroline Forbes you’re worried about, I bet we could fake an alibi.”

“It’s not just Caroline, it’s all of them. But, if we could think of a good enough alibi, I bet I could escape for a little bit.”

“Perfect, I will let my siblings know. This is our address, but if you need one of us to pick you up, my number’s on there, too.” He slips you a piece of paper. “I look forward to seeing you again, darling.”

“I do, too, Kol,” you smile.

With one last kiss to your hand, he disappears from sight.

You show up on the Mikaelsons’ porch at seven in one of your best outfits, playing with your hair nervously after ringing the doorbell. When the door swings open, the girl - Rebekah - is on the other side.

Before you can greet her, she looks you up and down, “wow… you are gorgeous.”

The redness rises back to your cheeks, “thank you.”

“No wonder my brothers are smitten with you.”

“Don’t lie, Rebekah,” Kol’s voice rings through the house, “you know you are too.”

She rolls her eyes, “come inside, dear. We promise we won’t bite.”

You follow her into the house, smiling as you pass the threshold into the mansion. “It’s beautiful in here.”

“Not as beautiful as you, darling.”

You’re starting to pick up on the affectionate nicknames that each gives you. Elijah calls you ‘love’; Kol calls you ‘darling’; and Rebekah just used ‘dear’. It’s one thing that they’ve all called you beautiful, but they all have nicknames for you, too. If they get any more romantic, your heart will flutter right out of your chest.

Just as you think that, they do. Elijah and Kol both kiss your hands as they greet you, making you weak in the knees.

“Thank you for coming, love. I’m glad you could join us.”

“Thank you for inviting me. About that alibi, Kol, I’m gonna need it tomorrow. No doubt I’ll get some kind of spoon-on-head, one-nail-painted-black kind of challenge that I’ll fail, and have to find an excuse for.”

The boy laughs, having been told by Elijah about Caroline’s antics. “We will certainly come up with something. But for now, are you hungry?”

“Yes, actually. And I’m excited to know what you guys eat when you’re not drinking blood,” you joke. The giggle fades out once you see the kitchen table, though. From end to end, it’s covered in dishes. “Holy crap.”

“Only the best for a woman such as yourself,” Kol sends you a wink.

Rebekah pulls a chair out for you. “Stick around, and you’ll find we actually have quite the appetite for more than blood.”

“Oh that was just a joke,” you say, afraid you’ve offended her.

“No worries. I know it was.”

Soon, you’re all seated, except for the head of the table. “Um. Don’t you guys have another brother?”

“Niklaus, yes,” Elijah smiles at you, “he’s painting at the moment, but he should be here shortly. I apologize for his absence.”

“It’s okay! I was just curious.”

Speak of the devil, Klaus enters the room not a minute later. Elijah gestures to you immediately, introducing you. Klaus, still skeptical as to why his siblings are so obsessed with you, has a threat prepared that sits on his tongue. The three wait for it to come out, expecting it, and ready to defend. However, as soon as he looks at you, his mind is wiped of all things foul and offensive.

“Hello, love,” he says instead.

All four of you are caught off guard. The tension in the room was thick; you were expecting an insult, too. Not to mention how Caroline speaks so poorly of the man.

“Hi,” you respond, voice smaller than you’d like, “nice to meet you.”

“You as well.” He sits down with a newfound attitude towards you. “Tell me, how do you like Mystic Falls?”

After you answer his question, the five of you talk for the next two hours, sharing every bit about yourselves. They learn how you’ve lived in Mystic Falls your whole life, and have barely traveled out of the town. You discover they were born in Norway, but were turned in this very town, some thousand years ago. You find common ground in the parents’ department, none of you having the best relationships with your parents, especially your fathers. Though you get a glimpse into the abuse that they all faced from their father, and feel an indescribable rage towards the man you’ve never met. This part of the conversation helps you understand each of them better, including how that fear and anger has made them into one of the most dangerous families - a term they admit describes them well.

“Dangerous,” Rebekah says, “but fiercely protective over those we love.”

“Quite exactly the reason we are so dangerous,” Elijah adds to her statement, “we will do anything to protect whomever we love.”

Hearing the word from their lips makes your body shiver. A thought passes through your head wondering if you’d ever be someone that they’d protect that much. Something deep in your soul tells you that you already are.

After the childhood topic, conversation moves onto lighter subjects. Everyone’s favorite foods, shows, and pastimes are shared. You learn the birth order of the four siblings in front of you, and discover that there’s three others not present. One of them, alive, but so disgusted that they’re vampires that he refuses to associate with them. This, in turn, gets a truth out of you,

“Well you don’t have to worry about me, I think vampires are sexy,” you say before covering your mouth. Too much wine, you suppose. “I mean, I just think they’re cool. There’s a reason the gang tries to keep me in the dark about everything that goes on in the town.”

Eyes go wide, but maybe for the sake of your embarrassed gesture, the topic moves onto the so-called perfect group of miscreants. After, it shifts to your alibi that will be used to explain your disappearance.

“You were bored and went to a restaurant to study. Lost track of time,” Kol tries his best.

“Ran to the store for a much needed grocery trip,” Klaus provides after his brother’s failed idea.

“Or,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, “you just fell asleep.”

“Watching a movie and falling asleep,” Elijah finishes, “so that you have about an hour to be engrossed in the movie, but then you nod off into a deep sleep.”

“I think Caroline would buy that. She always does get after me for not answering immediately.”

“Perfect,” Klaus concedes, “now I would like to know more about what you think makes vampires so sexy,” he says, smirking at you.

You blush for a second, but then can’t help spilling the truths stacked on your tongue.

◇◇◇◇

After that night, you stay in contact with the Mikaelsons, and even visit their mansion for several more dinners. In time, you find yourself getting close with each one. Most nights, Rebekah walks you home, and always kisses your cheek before leaving. Sometimes, too, she’s in your kitchen, making coffee or tea when you wake up. Kol visits you everytime Caroline puts you on “house arrest”, and tries to help you study to the best of his ability. That, or he distracts you completely, begging you to watch a movie with him instead. You almost always give into him. Elijah keeps up his charms of kind words and gentle touches. The moment he learns what your favorite flower is, he brings you one every time he sees you.

Between the siblings, Klaus is the least trusting and the last to give into his desire to know you. Though the more he sees you with the others, the more jealous he becomes, and eventually, he cracks. His first gesture towards you is a painting of you standing in the Mikaelsons’ ballroom. He says he could picture you dancing in it, someday, in a beautiful dress made tailored just for you. After that, he’s now just as smitten as his siblings.

You love being with all of them, separately and together. One thing though - you find your heart being torn in four different ways, and it scares you. You can’t break one of their hearts, nor do you want to, but there’s no way you could be with all of them. Look how that went for Elena and the Salvatores.

Oh, and speaking of Elena… you still haven’t even told your friends that you’re even hanging out with the Mikaelsons, much less that you’re in love with them. You feel bad keeping secrets from them, but you know how they’ll react if they find out. Even if you can prove the family has been nothing but kind, they’ll be overprotective and most likely try to ban you from seeing them entirely.

“Maybe I can just tell one of them,” you wonder out loud one night. Tonight was easy to get out of your house; everyone went to the grill to drink and you played the ‘too tired’ card. Little did they know what you were actually going back to the family’s mansion.

“Who would you start with?” Rebekah asks from behind as she plays with your hair.

“Caroline, maybe? I’m closest to her. But with Elena, I could use the excuse that she’s dating a vampire who’s almost just as dangerous.”

Klaus scoffs playfully, “almost as? Love, he doesn’t come close.”

“Well I know that, but some people think he’s pretty dangerous.”

“Oh he certainly is. But when it comes down to it, my family will always come out on top.”

You remember the conversation from your first night meeting them. How you wondered if you’d ever be one they’d fight to the death to protect. Klaus answers this for you now. “Like we said before, we protect those we love. That includes you, little one.”

Your eyes snap up to him. “Me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We open our home to you; share our deepest and darkest secrets. We don’t do that with just anyone. There’s something different about you.”

“He’s right,” Kol comes beside you on the couch to sit down, “you’re one of us now.”

Elijah clears his throat, a little worried the two will scare you away, “if you’re comfortable with that, of course. Do not feel pressured in any way. We will not be upset.”

As he’s talking, you reach your hands out for Kol to lean against you. The youngest boy does, putting his head on your shoulder, while you wrap your arms around his neck. “Pressure? No, I don’t feel pressured. I love hanging out with you guys. I love-” you pause, blinking. You’re not sure what to say.

“Y/N?” Elijah starts.

“I’m… I don’t know… I’m confused, and I feel awful for it, but I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“What’s wrong, girlie?” Rebekah kisses the top of your head gently. The boys focus their attention on you fully. “I promise, whatever you say, you don’t have to feel awful.”

“Bekah’s right, you can tell us anything.”

“I just… I love you guys. I love being with you all as a family, but then, I don’t know, I love you all separately, too.” They say nothing, so you continue. “And it’s not just a friendly thing, either. It’s like blushing, butterflies in the stomach, wanting to be with you kind of love. Which would be okay if I fell for only one of you - well, actually, it wouldn’t, because then I’d hurt the rest of you - but it’s not just one. I love all of you like that.”

Elijah’s first to speak. “Why do you think that would be wrong?”

“What?”

“Why is that a bad thing to you?”

You stare at him, “I can’t have a thing with four different siblings. That’s crazy, right?”

You can’t see her face, but Rebekah’s smiling wide. “Are there any rules when it comes to love?”

And before you can answer her, Klaus follows up, “crazy pretty much defines this family, I don’t know what you’re worried about.”

“Hold on,” you put up a finger, even more confused, but now for a different reason. “You are all okay with this?”

“We may have had a talk,” Elijah says, sitting down, “the night after you first came here. You see, we’ve all shared lovers before, so this is nothing new to us. However, usually they rotate. Start with Klaus, move onto Kol, have a fling with Bekah, start something with me, and then they go. But, as you’ve heard us say plenty a time, you’re much different.”

You nod, “so what was the talk?”

“Well, dear Y/N, none of us can quite keep our feelings about you to ourselves. Nor do we ever think we could tire of loving you.” Elijah’s slow and cryptic talk is making you antsy. Apparently, it’s frustrating Kol, too.

“Do you believe in soulmates, darling?”

“Soulmates? Um, ish? I mean, Caroline and I used to entertain the idea as kids.”

“Would it be absolutely crazy to entertain the possibility that you’ve met yours? And perhaps it to be in the form of four siblings to whom you’ve just admitted your love?”

“I-” slowly, it hits you. His words sink into your head and your heart at the same time. A fire burns, heating your palms, reddening your cheeks.

“Because polyamory was a thing with the Ancient Greeks, though it’s not too common anymore. But then again, here you have four siblings who love you just as dearly. In that same ‘butterflies and a warm feeling’ that you described.”

“I, um…”

“If you had let me explain it, you wouldn’t have scared her,” Elijah chides his brother.

“You were taking too long. I’ve been waiting a thousand years to tell this girl I love her.”

Hearing the three words finally broke the dam. Whatever fear you did have melts away instantly. “It’s okay,” you mutter. “It’s clear to me now. I do love you. All of you. As crazy as it sounds, I can’t deny my feelings; I don’t want to. I love you.”

Immediately, Kol spins around so he can kiss you properly. You kiss him back, relaxing into his hands which hold onto your face. As soon as he breaks it off, Rebekah mutters that he needs to move, and then she kisses you, too.

“I just have one question,” you pant, out of breath from the excitement.

“And what is that?”

“How do I know this isn’t going to end terribly, like how Stefan and Elena’s relationship did ever since she fell in love with his brother?”

“Because,” Klaus zips across the room to put less distance between you two, “we all love you and are quite capable of sharing. We’ve lived thousands of years together, and have been looking for you for thousands more.”

“Besides, there’s this cool thing called communication that we do that the Salvatores like to ignore. Take it from someone who’s slept with both,” Rebekah adds.

You crinkle your nose at the information, “no more sleeping with Salvatores.” You pull her back in for another kiss, “you’re mine now.”

When you let go of Bex, Klaus steals his turn, and then Elijah. It’s a little overwhelming, but your worries are overpowered by how much love you feel from them, and by how much you want to give them in return.

After you all settle down, you let out a giggle. “I had nearly given up on the idea of finding my soulmate. Little did I know I’d be so lucky to have four.”

“Not as lucky as us,” Elijah claims the last word, “to have found our girl after thousands of years of searching.”

#poly!mikaelsons #mikaelson siblings #mikaelsons x reader #tvd fanfiction #requested #i hope this is okay!

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kimkaelyn · 1 year

Text

Wingspan - k. takami

You are startled awake by the sound of crashing porcelain followed by a loud snarl coming from your living room. You lay in your bed for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling as you process what is happening. You sit up, at a loss for what to do in this situation. You have seen enough horror movies and true crime documentaries to know that getting up to investigate the commotion happening in your living room at two-thirty in the morning is a big no-no. However, the less rational side of your brain is probing at you to investigate.

Slowly, you rise from your covers and carefully tiptoe your way to the door. You slow down your breathing whilst avoiding the squeaky floorboards, not wanting to make a peep. On the other side of the door, you can hear faint muttering and booted footsteps. This intruder isn’t the brightest, you think to yourself when you hear glass cracking and splintering. You grab the metal bat that you keep propped against your dresser, just for good measure. You are right in front of your bedroom door now, the noises emitting from the other side becoming clearer. You take a couple of deep breaths, trying to ground yourself in the current moment. You put on a determined front, and with some sort of muffled battle cry, you throw open the door and sprint out into the dimly lit hallway, bat raised and ready.

You continue to yell your battle cry as you run into the main living area of your apartment, eyes frantically looking side to side, up and down as you search for the intruder.

“Woah there, bluebird,” A voice calls out from the other side of your couch, on your left. You quickly twist around, not hesitating for a second, raising the bat above your head and throwing it with everything you have toward the faint outline of a body. You hear the bat contact something- if the sharp thang is anything to go from, which is quickly followed by the sound of it hitting the floorboards. “What the hell!” The mystery person cries out.

You are momentarily blinded when your apartment is flooded with light. It takes a couple of seconds for you to adjust to the sudden brightness, but you are rendered speechless when you comprehend the sight in front of you.

Your apartment is a mess. Your balcony doors are wide open, and there are leaves covering every surface within ten feet of them. Your love seat is toppled on its side, and as your eyes drag along it, you realize with a gasp that the end table next to is it uncharacteristically bare. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach as you catch sight of the jagged remains of porcelain that once made up a gorgeous vase.

“Wh-what happened?” You ask your boyfriend, who is still slouched on the floor. He looks exhausted. His entire body moves with his ragged breaths, with his crimson wings tucked in tightly to his form. His mouth is pulled into a thin line, and his eyes are apologetic as he regards you.

“I’m sorry, bluebird,” he says. He gestures behind him to the balcony and the toppled furniture. “I came in a little too hot, and I’m not exactly in tune with your apartment yet.” He grimaces and scratches the back of his neck.

You nod in understanding. With how busy Hawks has been lately, you haven’t been able to spend much time together. You have only been able to meet up for lunch at his agency a couple of times over the past four months. Not to mention he has only been inside your apartment twice before, so it’s expected that he wouldn’t know his way around in the dark. You notice that he is holding a broom, and you spot the dustpan on the floor next to the pile of broken porcelain.

“I really am sorry about the mess,” Keigo continues. “I tried to be quiet and not wake you up, but obviously I failed.” He chuckles as he resumes cleaning up the broken ceramic.

“It’s okay, Keigo.” You tell him as you squat down to help, careful not to cut your fingers on the sharp porcelain. “It’s just broken porcelain, I can always buy another one.” You notice his shoulders slouch in relief at your assurance. “However, I am curious. How did you manage to do all of this in such a short amount of time?”

Keigo’s face turns bright red, and he bashfully avoids your gaze, instead opting to look at the floor. “Involuntary reaction to the hard landing,” he says. “I tried to catch myself before I fell, which means my wings splayed outwards, and knocked your vase over.”

“Oh,” Is all you say at first, and then- “I have never put much thought into your wingspan before.” You reply nonchalantly. You don’t notice your boyfriend openly gaping at you until you stand to dispose of the pieces of porcelain. You notice the almost constipated look on his face as he tries not to laugh. “What?”

At your question, the winged hero gives you a dazzling smile. His eyes take on a dark hue as he looks you up and down. “Well, bluebird, you know what they say about wingspan.” You blush as the words sink in.

Indeed, you did know.

Copyright © 2023 by kimkaelyn. All rights reserved. No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing. Please notify me ASAP if you see my work posted on other sites.

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #hawks x you #keigo takami x you #takami keigo x reader #mha #bnha

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meyerlansky · 5 months

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dancing cheek to cheek (to cheek) (7563 words) by littlelansky chapters: 1/1 fandom: Masters of the Air (TV 2024) rating: Explicit warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply relationships: Curtis Biddick/Gale "Buck" Cleven/John Clarence "Bucky" Egan, Curtis Biddick/John Clarence "Bucky" Egan, Curtis Biddick/Gale "Buck" Cleven, Gale "Buck" Cleven/John Clarence "Bucky" Egan characters: Curtis Biddick, John Clarence "Bucky" Egan, Gale "Buck" Cleven additional tags: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining, Period Typical Attitudes, Internalized Homophobia, (it's light though dw), Canon Compliant, Dom/sub Undertones, Dirty Talk, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Making Out, Drunk Sex, Whiskey Dick, POV Curtis Biddick series: Part 1 of three bluebirds summary:

If Bucky’s with Curt, he’s with him. No biting back another guy’s name, no faraway look in his eyes. It’d probably have made the whole thing easier if there had been.

Because when Bucky’s boy rolls in, Curt takes one look at him and whistles low.

“I was lowballin’ it on ‘twice as pretty,’ huh,” he mutters to Bucky, quiet enough no one else can hear. He scowls, played-up, to counter the stupid grin on Bucky’s face. “And you just let me. Some friend you are.”

(In which Curt catches feelings twice.)

[read it on ao3!]

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sphireath-wisp · 1 year

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#A Night at the Symphony

Synopsis: Laufey songs + Blue lock Characters + love stories = days of me violently sobbing (The pronouns in the lyrics do not matter, reader is still gender neutral and please tell me if I accidentally assign reader with any pronouns other than they/them)

Warnings: Laufey's heartwrenching songs that I love with my whole heart, Kaiser and reader are aged up in his section and old enough to drink alcohol, not proofread, weird interchanging grammar,

Notes: For my friend, @dewwberry. Writing for all the red flags today 💪💪💪

Featuring: Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi x GN! reader

Michael Kaiser + "Like the Movies"

"Maybe one day I'll fall, in a bookstore, into the arms of a guy."

"Thank you," was all you could mutter out, a coy smile plastered on your face as the blonde man reached for a book on a shelf too high for you to even tiptoe to. He towers over you, his ridiculously handsome face adorned with an amused smirk.

Before he passes it to you, his blue eyes scan the cover of the book, taking his own sweet time browsing through the pages. You snap out of reality when you hear the sudden close of the book in his hands, a chuckle - most likely at you

"My bad," You apologize for staring, a relieved sigh escaping you when he nods. "It's alright," He pushes up his glasses when it slides down the bridge of his nose, grabbing another copy of the book he had passed to you. "At least I now know what I'll be reading tonight."

You hugged the book to your chest, hoping that you were the only one who could hear the loud drums of your heartbeat against your ribs. "I'll see you around?"

Pursing your lips, you nodded, ecstatically returning the favor when he waved bye to you. You continued to observe his proud strides as he walked off, only noticing the dopey smile on your face when you look at your reflection through the glass-paned windows.

"Huh?" You mumble after snapping out of your daydream, noticing a small card wedged in the middle of the book. Examining it, you widen your eyes when you see a phone number and name written on it, "Michael Kaiser?"

"We'll sneak into bars and gaze at the stars, Surrounded by fireflies."

Before you knew it, you were texting him constantly, returning to that same bookstore every week or so to meet up. As more time went on, you found yourself searching for every chance to meet up with him, whether it was at the movies or a bar. Luckily for you, Kaiser is someone who loves his champagne.

"Time passes by too quickly when I'm with you," Kaiser hears you drunkenly admit, taking a small sip of the champagne he had so generously bought for you. He hums in response, nonchalant as usual. For a moment, Kaiser feels like this bar is too stuffy - the irritatingly loud music preventing Kaiser from hearing your voice.

He rests his chin on his hand, half-heartedly - at first - listening to you ramble about whatever you had to get off your chest. "I'm such a hopeless romantic honestly." Kaiser's ears perk up.

"I've read too many romantic books, they're all raising my standards. It's no wonder I've had no luck - no one's ever good enough." You sigh and you finish another glass of champagne, not even realizing how bad the hangover after this will be for you. He doesn't say anything, his fingers reaching to brush those strands of your hair that have been bothering him. "I wanna love like I've seen in the movies." He pauses just before his fingers graze against your cheek.

"That's why I'll never fall in love." You lie to both yourself and him.

"Oh, I'd like to sleep in till two on a Sunday And listen to the bluebirds sigh."

Groggily dragging your feet out of bed, you blink when you see the blonde man leaning against the door frame. "Kaiser?" You rub your eyes again, the shock striking you all of a sudden when you find yourself in an unfamiliar room.

"I brought you back to my place. You had passed out before I could ask you where your place was." You hold your head in your hands, trying to recall the events of last night in vain. "You were clinging to me all night, you know?" Kaiser chuckles when your face contorts into embarrassment, chiding him for teasing you.

Reading you like an open book, he takes you by the hand - almost hurriedly - and forces you to sit back on the bed. "I'll go buy you some medicine to help with that headache." and so he turns his back to you, gently creaking the door shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You spot a small card - identical to the one that was wedged between the pages of the book before - on the bedside table, a glass with about 3/4 of it filled with water holding the card down and preventing it from flying with the wind.

"So old-fashioned." you thought, though you had to admit you did not mind one bit.

"'Take better care of yourself, idiot.'" You scoff lightly after reading the note out loud, rolling your eyes. "Wow, well, that's a very nice thing to say." You sarcastically whip back out of pure instinct - if Kaiser was here, he'd definitely be snapping another annoyingly smart retort back at you. You toss the note aside on the table, that headache killing any energy or willpower you had in your system.

Eyes wandering around the room, you spot a myriad of items - a bookshelf neatly arranged in alphabetical order (that book both you and Kaiser were reading slightly sticking out of the shelf), a comfortable rug that you could probably fall asleep in, and a trash bin filled to the brim with crumpled pieces of paper.

"Strange, why is there only paper in here?" Your curiosity took over and, for better or worse, you straighten out a few of the papers and read their contents, lightly skimming through them on the floor. You could tell Kaiser wrote this just by the handwriting.

'Don't worry about anything, rest up for the whole day. I'll take care of you.' said one note.

'I care about you more than you think, don't ever get that drunk in front of another man.-' the last part was just scribbled off as if the writer wasn't sure how to phrase his words.

You stop, rubbing your eyes as you pull out a torn-off piece of paper.

'I've fallen for you too - just like the movies.'

"Get soaked in the rain and smile through the pain, Slow dance under stormy skies."

It's been a few days since you left Kaiser's place. As much as your heart ached to be with him, you had no idea what to do honestly when you found that piece of a once-complete letter. You didn't know what to do when it boiled down to love despite being a connoisseur in romantic movies or books.

In the end, you were clueless and utterly hopeless, dragging your feet back to that same bookstore.

You wandered inside, that once-comforting almond smell of books making your mind think back to the first time you met him. Yet, you didn't see him at all, no matter which corner you turned. Well, it's not as if you both agreed to meet up today - why would he be here? Though, you always did believe Kaiser had some kind of telepathic power when it came to you.

Defeated, you exited the bookstore just to notice a familiar figure sitting on a bench, staring off into the pouring rain. That blonde hair with blue streaks, that confident posture, of course, it's Kaiser. A mix of emotions stirs in you, but your body reacts on its own accord, feet marching confidently in his direction. Heart pounding. Head woozy. That same lovestruck smile on your face.

"Didn't bring an umbrella?" You peeked over his shoulder, startling him for a second. Kaiser sighs in relief when he registers that it's just you, nodding. He sits up, spine straightening when he notices the umbrella you have in your hand. "You'll have to hold it though, you're taller than me."

"Alright, alright." Kaiser opens the umbrella and covers both of you with it, that usual smug grin on his face - but something feels different this time. You feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Stay close or else you'll get soaked." His grip on your waist tightens.

"It's no wonder I've had no luck, no one's ever good enough. I want a love like I've seen in the movies. That's why I'll never fall in love."

"You're such an idiot, actually." You reply to his last joke, your chest bubbling as you try to contain your laughter - in vain. Kaiser dramatically scoffs, making that 'tch' sound and shaking his head."

"Says the one who forced me to take care of them because they were too drunk to tell me where they lived." You jab him back lightly in response. "For your info, I did not force you. You were the one who willingly took care of me."

"I willingly took care of you because I'm just that good of a person!" Kaiser tilted the umbrella to your side, ignoring how his shoulder was getting drenched in the rain. He masks his amusement with a frown when you sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever floats your boat." You roll your eyes despite that stupidly cheerful smile on your face. "Hmph, you sound very doubtful of me." Kaiser retorts, elbowing you, "Then, tell me, know-it-all. Why do you think I willingly brought you back to my place that night?"

You place a hand on your chin, thinking for a moment. A brilliant idea hits you and you put on your best smile, deciding to reply with a cheesy quote from the book both you and Kaiser read, "Because you love me."

He recognized that cliché quote without any trouble, almost instantly facepalmed, and burst out laughing. Something about you made him feel a little more alive, a little more complete. Was it just him, or did every morning seem a little easier to get through ever since he met you?

"You know..." Kaiser lowers his voice, the atmosphere changing.

"That night when you were drunk, while you did not tell me where you lived, you did confess to me something else." Kaiser notices that the rain had gradually stopped as he spoke, observing your once hyper movements slow down. "You told me you fell in love with me."

You halt dead in your tracks, your cheeks heating up. A swarm of butterflies rush through your body and even though you parted your lips, you didn't say anything. He stopped in front of you, the distance between you and him being heartstoppingly close. "I never got to tell you my response to your confession, so..."

Kaiser's wrist slowly turned, tilting the umbrella at an angle that blocked anyone's view of this precious moment - seeing your face in such a flustered state is a luxury that Kaiser doesn't want to share. You feel a hand cup your cheek too gently, treating your skin like the most precious of porcelain. A more genuine, soft grin adorned the man you fell in love with as he slowly pulled you closer, stealing away your first kiss.

"Yes (Name), I do love you. I'll bring you back to my place and take care of you whenever you need me to."

Sae Itoshi + "Beautiful Stranger"

"Beautiful stranger sitting right there, Looked up at me... Looked back for a second, didn't want to be rude. I tend to fall in love on the tube."

You unintentionally whispered a 'wow', your mouth left agape at the sight of a lean young man boarding the train. Reddish-brown hair that he unconsciously brushes his hand through, slim green eyes that make him look so unapproachable, a cold and aloof gaze - yet you felt nothing but warmth in your chest.

He sat across from you, hands tucking themselves comfortably in his pocket after zipping up his jacket. He places his bag on the floor, clamping it in place between his legs.

You notice him sigh, seemingly tired from... whatever he was doing before. His gaze drifts around, locking eye contact with you for a short moment and you felt your body tense up.

You snap your head in the other direction, your eyes still wanting to look back, maybe even wave if you could muster up the courage. Covering the lower half of your face with your hand, you muffle your gasp and pray that he didn't notice you.

You take a deep breath. No way you would fall in love with some stranger you just met, right? From the corner of your eye, you glimpse at him and realize he isn't looking back.

Maybe, hopefully, he didn't catch you? You slowly turn your head back forward, trying to calm your beating heart and that annoyingly imaginative mind of yours.

Greedily, you steal another glance at him, looking at him from head to toe multiple times. It was as if you couldn't get enough of him.

"Beautiful stranger sitting right there, Reading the newspaper, stuck to his chair. I swore that he smiled and I felt my heart drop. Heard the doors open, came to my stop."

You observed him as he fished his phone out of his pockets. He leaned back, mindlessly scrolling on his phone. You scratched the back of your neck and immediately turned your head when he looked up from his phone, pursing your lips.

While you couldn't see his face properly, you swore that there was a small smile on his face. Getting up from your seat, you prepared to leave and waited for the doors to open.

For the first time in forever, you didn't want to reach home this early though the comfort of your bed was more than appealing. Some part of you still wanted to linger around. Your head turns back to that same stranger, still staring at his phone. The sound of the door opening echoed, it was your cue to leave.

Though you weren't hallucinating - he was smiling.

"Beautiful stranger, catching my stare. It's fate we collided right then back there"

You boarded the same bus on your way to work and back, despite it taking longer than your usual route, hope that you'll see that same beautiful stranger dwelling in the deepest part of your heart. Just like a loop of last night, you awaited his arrival patiently.

"Oh!" You mumble under your breath, gaze following his figure just like his shadow would the moment you recognized that unforgettable face. He looks around the bus, almost as if he was searching for something, and you swore you saw him stare at you for a slight second before sitting down across from you.

Just like that, boarding that exact bus became routine for you, and your mornings were brightened by his presence. Your innocent little crush escalated and bloomed into something more, and for a second, you longed for him more.

You wondered how his voice sounded when speaking to you instead of on a call with someone else, you fantasized about how his hand would feel in yours, how warm his embrace probably is, how lovely it must be to be that special someone in his life.

No, this has to be infatuation... right?

"I wonder if he felt the same thing too. Innocent crush on the morning commute."

Another unremarkable morning, you anticipated the same cycle to repeat itself. He'll board the train, glance around, then sit across from you.

Or so you thought. That night, he seemed particularly exhausted, his demeanor was completely different in the morning. His posture was a bit slouched, occasionally yawning and rubbing his eyes. You frowned, worry in your eyes as you clutched the phone in your hand.

As usual, he looked around with that same detached expression. However, this time, despite all of the empty seats around, he sat next to you. Widening your eyes, you immediately turned your head away, more than reluctant to let him see that rosy glow - that you've noticed is a side effect that happens when you think of him - on your cheeks.

You leaned back in your seat, wanting to get a better look at him. He had his arms crossed, reddish-brown hair messy, and eyes weary. He dipped his chin, seemingly looking down at his lap before closing his eyes. Sooner or later, you could hear the soft murmurs and snores from him.

As the train came to a sudden halt, the impact caused his head to land on your left shoulder, using it as a pillow. Cautiously, you adjusted your position and took off your left earphone so it wouldn't disturb him in his sleep. All the passengers must have been jumping to conclusions when they gave you both warm smiles and nods of encouragement, what could they possibly be thinking about?

Though, no matter how you deny it, that enamored smile on your face must have fueled whatever assumptions they were making of the both of you. When you turned to check on him, you noticed something peculiar.

Was he always smiling like that at first?

"What if I would've stayed on the train? Dared to stand up and ask for his name? Maybe we would have exchanged a few words, A fairytale moment could have occurred."

While you dreamed that this moment could last forever, you noticed that you would be reaching your stop soon, and - no matter how tempting the idea of missing a few stops was - you were left with no other option than to shake him awake.

"Hey... hey?" He must be a light sleeper because he woke up pretty quickly with a few gentle tugs. Why didn't he wake up when the train suddenly stopped then... Was he pretending?

You giggle at him, insisting that it was okay when he apologized to you, even lowering his head a little. It felt like something had sparked between the both of you through that short interaction, something that sent your heart into overdrive. From the subtle softening of his gaze to how his shoulders dropped in relief, you could only wonder if you were the cause of such dismissive reactions.

"Oh... this is my stop." Disappointment laces your words, your heart sinking.

With a scowl on your face, you approached the train doors. You give him one last sorrowful look, wishing that sweet, surreal moment wasn't so short. You met his gaze, locking eye contact as you felt the train slow down.

You lifted your hand to wave goodbye, but you clench your fist and hesitate, hurriedly dropping your hand back down right after. Your fingernails dig deeper into the flesh of your palm, that crazy part of you scolding you for missing such a wonderful opportunity. Any rational, logical sense left in you supported what you did, it did save you from any embarrassment or rejection.

Turning your back to him, you solemnly take a small step closer to the exit once the train doors open.

"Wait," You feel fingers envelop your forearm, preventing you from entirely leaving the train. Surprise coursed its way through your veins when you realized it was your beautiful stranger holding you by the arm, a rosy glow that you were only familiar seeing yourself with adorning his cheeks. "I'll walk you home."

(Bonus: After spending more time with Sae, he'll purposefully save a seat on the train for you, placing his bag there and patiently waiting for you. Even when you text him that you won't be showing up to work, he still does it out of pure habit unless the train is really crowded or someone asks.)

Rin Itoshi + "Valentine"

"I've rejected affection for years and years. Now, I have it, and, damn it, it's kind of weird."

"Rin, Rin, what does this word mean?" Your fingers pointed at a phrase on the letter you found on your table. You knew basic phrases in Japanese and barely got through school with that knowledge. Thus, Rin was naturally assigned to be your personal translator throughout the day since he was fluent in English and was conveniently in your class. And, would you look at that, he sits next to you as well.

You watch him eye the letter and his eyebrows shoot up. He snatches the letter from your grasp, practically crumpling between his index and thumb fingers. The smell of the perfume - cheap, for sure - wafts through the air up his nose and he clogs it. Rin was always the type of person to have a disdain for well, most things, but whatever vexed him was more than just the glittery design.

"Ignore it," He expects you to oblige, giving the letter a piercing, demeaning glare. "It's nothing important."

"At least tell me how to pronounce it!" You pout, crossing your arms, "I have to learn Japanese, or else I'll forever be stuck with a grumpy, moody translator." You didn't mind the idea so much actually, but you continued to act like you did.

"I'm not an idiot, (Name). You'll just search up the meaning." He drapes an arm over the top of his chair, jaw resting on his knuckles. "Even if I promise? Swear to keep my word and not search it up?" You persist, probing into why he seemed so repulsed by some scrap of paper.

"Even if you promise," Rin repeats after you, seemingly not budging an inch. You audibly sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. "Won't you tell me? Come on, it can't be that bad." Your knee swerves to the side, jabbing his leg from under the table. "I have a right to know, the letter was meant for me after all."

Logically, Rin wouldn't listen. No, he shouldn't. If wishes to keep his pride, he shouldn't give in to your request. From adopting the traits of his older brother, from an early age, he weaved and molded himself to be rational at every step. Yet, somehow, every bone in his body wants to trust and believes you.

"It doesn't matter anyway," or so he would rationalize his actions, fingers pointing at the words on the letter. Your eyes trail after his finger, listening intently.

"あいしてる.(Ai-shi-teru)" He lowers his voice suddenly, almost into a whisper as if he didn't want anyone else to overhear him. You echo after him and for a moment, you could've sworn that the tip of his ears grew red, "あいしてる."

"He tells me I'm pretty, Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue."

Rin's group of friends people he tolerates happen to sit near your table during lunchtime and, occasionally, your friends would catch the short glimpses you exchange with him.

You feel a not-so-subtle kick from under the table and you retaliate, returning the favor as you chide your friends. Judging by their smirks, you could tell you were in for a disaster. Seems like they caught you red-handed.

As you are forced to profusely deny anything they say, their teasing reaches Rin's ears.

"You're all red! You definitely have a crush on him!" One of your friends exclaimed, teasing you. You felt like melting as you covered your ears in a weak attempt to block out their words. "Oh, shut up! You're so loud."

Rin glances at you from the corner of his eye and you could feel the shivers crawling up your spine, clawing their way around your body. You could only pray he didn't hear anything as you chewed on your food. You couldn't swallow the food down, fidgeting with your hands under the table while stuttering out poor excuses to change the topic.

At first, he planned to save you the embarrassment and pretend to be oblivious. It'd cause him less trouble anyway - just look away and continue eating, engraving the memory in his mind. Having said that, he didn't know what made him so fond of that flustered expression on your face.

"Lukewarm," He utters under his breath - directed to your friends and, for the first time in a while, himself. He looks away, pulling out his phone to text you with a scowl on his face.

You see your phone buzz on the table and the notification, much to your dismay, displayed Rin's message to you for all your friends to see.

"u have a nice smile" and you felt like your eyes were playing tricks on you. You swiped your phone off the table, pressing the screen against your chest and close to your racing heart. Your friends all screamed and cheered in unison, all you wanted to do right now is scream into a pillow and curl into a ball.

You took a deep breath and gathered your thoughts, shakily checking your phone again. Slowly, your gaze returned back to him, scrutinizing the way the ends of his lips curl upwards.

"Ty, u too <3" You text him back.

"With every passing moment, I surprise myself. I'm scared of flies, I'm scared of guys- Someone, please, help! 'Cause I think I've fallen in love this time."

All of a sudden, it's hard to maintain eye contact like the both of you used to. Every time you both chat, that moment when the both of you coincidentally lock eye contact releases swarms of butterflies.

All of a sudden, it's routine to walk home together. When one of you has the misfortune of needing to stay back after class, the other has no qualms or complaints about waiting. If one of you forgets something like homework, the other remembers. It's like you both complete each other, two peas in a pod.

All of a sudden, he's the one carrying your things for you, insisting it's all lightweight and not a problem after hearing you complain about your back aching.

All of a sudden, you both of whispering answers to each other whenever the teacher calls one of you out.

All of a sudden, you love learning Japanese. You love how he's somewhat patient with you - or at least he tries his best to. He'll sigh when he has to repeat himself, but that beaming grin plastered on your face when you learn something new is one of the best rewards for him - better than the money you continue to pay him for the tutoring despite how he refuses to take it.

'Expect the unexpected,' but there's no way you could have predicted this. Everything happened so fast, but you didn't want things to slow down either.

"I've lost all control of my heartbeat now, Got caught in a romance with him somehow. I still feel a shock through every bone When I hear an "I love you", 'Cause now I've got someone to lose."

He couldn't tell whether it was a blessing or curse to sit next to you. Everything you did has this selcouth effect on him, his mind riddled with that unusually flawless image of you, turning winter into spring in a matter of seconds. Now that he thinks about it, did you ever have any flaws?

From flowers to breathtaking sunsets, his heart had been plagued with this confusing, unfamiliar feeling because everything reminded him of you. It was too intense to forget about with time, too new to be hatred, and too extraordinary to let go of.

You're just like the best goal he ever scored, the best gift he's ever received, the best movie he's ever seen. You're so refreshing, new, but at the very same time comforting like his mom's cooking or a nostalgic video game. You're his biggest weakness and the best thing that ever happened to him all at once.

He's heard of love. How 2-dimensional and sappy it is, how people crave and want it so desperately. He never did understand it. However, now, faced with no choice but to confront his feelings, he's left dumbfounded by just how puzzling and deep they are.

...It's alright if he thinks with his heart, just this one time, right?

"The first one to ever like me back. I'm seconds away from a heart attack. How the hell did I fall in love this time? And honestly, I can't believe I get to call you mine. I blinked and suddenly, I had a Valentine."

February 13, 11:39 p.m. Rin walks into the convenience store, hands tucked comfortably into his pockets as he walks in, a small bag hanging from his shoulder. He sighs when he spots you running up to him, waving at him.

"Why'd you call me so late to come here? You made it sound like you were going to die or something."

"I just... felt like seeing you." You innocently chirp, grabbing some chips that both you and Rin would share later on, good thing you knew his favorite flavor beforehand. "Is that a bad reason?"

Rin narrows his eyes before another sigh escapes him - which you assume means 'yes'. "Why'd you come?" You ask back. Knowing Rin, he should have expected a silly reason like that coming from you.

"I wanted to make sure you were safe. Going out this late is dangerously close to a stupid idea." You chuckle at how logical his answer is, "So, you're saying that you don't mind doing something stupid so I could be safe?"

You feel a sudden glare on you and you giggle. "Okay, okay, I won't tease you." Done choosing your snacks, you go to pay at the counter.

11:47. You exit the store with Rin following behind, holding the plastic bag filled with the snacks you hand-picked. Sitting down on a bench in a nearby park, both you and Rin open up the snacks and chat to pass the time.

"11:58," you whisper under your breath after checking the time on your phone, "almost time."

"Rin," Rin glances at you, tilting his head to meet your eyes when you call out his name, your tone mellow. "How many Valentine's Day gifts did you receive last year?"

He leans back on the chair, the mention of Valentine's Day causing him to glance elsewhere. "Didn't count, I rejected all of them." His hand reaches into his bag, fingers grabbing onto the box of chocolates he had impulsively bought for you, but he doesn't dare take them out.

"Do you have a Valentine this year?" You take a deep breath before asking. He shakes his head, much to your relief. "You?" Rin questions and you shake your head.

"I don't really know how to ask this," you chuckle, an attempt to lighten up the mood as you shift closer to him. "But..."

"Will you be my Valentine?" You ask, staring up at the moon, miraculously able to blurt out the words without stuttering. The silence after that kills you as you hope for a favorable response, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

Rin carefully places the box of chocolates on your lap, hand lingering on your thigh for a moment. The box of chocolates was red and rectangular, you could smell a slight scent of vanilla, all tied together with a ribbon. Attached to it was a small card that wrote, "あいしてる." in messy handwriting - he was never good at calligraphy.

"Aishiteru," you read aloud, "You never did tell me what it meant." Rin felt something stuck in his throat, only replying to you with a soft 'mm'. You ignore his refusal to tell you, but you could kind of guess the meaning now that he used it.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you sigh in content.

February 14, 12:00. "The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" You whisper to him, sliding your hand into his pocket as this warmth bursts from your chest. You feel his hand pull yours deeper into his pocket, intertwining fingers. "Yeah, yeah it is."

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tigersullivan01 · 1 year

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Alma Peregrine x reader Bird bath

Y/n pov

“Alma!” I scolded her lightly as I crouch down and scooped her up from the floor. “Your wing is still injured and i could have accidentally stepped on you you silly bird! Why are you covered in flour?” Standing up with Alma sitting on my arm i head to the kitchen. Emma, Olive and Hugh stand in the kitchen covered in flour, coco powder and melted butter?”What happened in here?” All three of them look over at me in surprise”We wanted to bake chocolate cookies” Hugh mumbles as Emma and Olive stand on ether side of him looking at the floor. Letting out a sigh and rubbing my temples “Next time inform me before you do something like this, apologize to Miss Peregrine before you all clean up this mess together and go take a thorough bath”

Mumbling their apologies to a flour covered Alma before starting the cleanup process for the kitchen. I walk upstairs and knock on Enoch’s door before stepping inside.

“Enoch could you please keep an eye on the others whilst I take care of Miss Peregrine?” Enoch looks at me confused before seeing a grumpy Alma on my arm, he sighs and stands up and walks downstairs. “You owe me a few organs for this” He muttered, letting out a second sigh as I walk to mine and Alma’s bedroom, walking to the attached bathroom.

Putting Alma on the sink edge and plugging the drain in the sink, filling it up with lukewarm water and a little shampoo, getting a fluffy towel before picking Alma up and slowly putting her into the water. Although she had other plans as she flaps her wings and claws her way up my sleeve. “Ow! Alma that hurts! Stop it! BLUEBIRD!” I manage to grab her whilst leaning backwards to not get splashed in water, securing her wings to her sides and glaring at her.

“That was uncalled for.” I muttered grumpily. “Seriously though, you have to take a bath. You’re covered in flour! Hey! No stop that” i put my finger on her beak

“You don’t have the right to give me that glare, I’m trying to help you and you’re making it difficult. I’m going to relax my grip, no funny stuff” I ease my grip on her and slowly lower her into the water

“See, it’s not that bad” I gently pet her feathers as I let her get used to the water before slowly washing her feathers with a small washcloth, I can’t help but giggle at the sight of Alma being completely soaked in her bird form. Receiving an unhappy chirp from Alma as she waddles out of the sink, I wrap her up in a fluffy towel like a burrito and holding her like a baby in one arm as I walk downstairs and start preparing supper.

In the beginning of my cooking Alma chirps to correct me for something but eventually stops, I glanced down and sees that she’s fallen asleep with her head against my chest. Smiling softly as I continue to cook, putting everything on the table and gathering up the children by foot instead of ringing the bell so i don’t wake Alma up. The children respectfully talk in a quiet manner as they eat and actually behaving themselves for ones.

eh? I don’t know if it’s good. I can do a part two on either of the stories I’ve posted if anyone wants that. I hope you got some enjoyment out of this one! Please give some feedback I would highly appreciate it! And leave requests for stories you want written!

- Tiger

#alma peregrine x reader #alma peregrine #miss peregrines home for peculiar children

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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I want to hold Bluebird kindly and give them affection please. They deserve it after the bullshit they went through with their yan :(

Bluebird would cry for hours at the faintest touch. At first they're terrified, but then they realize you aren't going to hurt them like they did. Your love isn't conditional like theirs was and you won't ever hurt or break them like they used to. They're unable to sleep without your arms around them, muttering for you not to leave them in their dreamless sleep. After a while their dreams do come back, and they're all of you

#Bluebird my oc #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere blurb #yandere x you

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birdofdawning · 6 months

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Pumpkins

Myka Bering and the bank own a house. This is important to the story. It is a small house, but it has a front porch that looks out over a quiet street, and French windows that open onto a small back lawn with an apricot tree in the middle. The house is one-hundred and thirty years old, and in a much better condition now than when Myka Bering had first bought it. Then it was sad and unsightly, with paint peeling off its weatherboards and a tin roof that banged in the wind. When you flicked on the light switch it made noises and when you turned the tap on worrisome things happened. But Myka read renovation books and went to night-classes. She stripped and sanded and repainted the house, replacing its rotting weatherboards. She pulled up the old carpet and polished the floorboards underneath. She hung wallpaper, unjammed windows, replaced panes of glass, and even repaired the plumbing herself. But she got an electrician in to rewire the house; and, though she nailed down the loose pieces of her rusty iron roof herself, she began saving up for a new roof. Now the house is trim and tidy and even smart, in a modest way.

The house is in an old neighbourhood that is currently unfashionable. It still has short, narrow streets lined with telephone poles, which cars are slow to navigate, and a small church or a corner store every few blocks. There are orange trees in some people’s yards and old rusted vehicles in others, each yard separated by a completely different style of fence, or a scraggly hedge, or nothing at all, just a strip of grass. Myka Bering says that that one day, when house prices rise and the area becomes desirable, she will be able to sell her house for considerably more than she paid for it. But after she had built and filled an enormous bookshelf that took up the entire internal wall, spanning from the front windows of the lounge to the end of the small dining room, people had decided that she was probably going to stay.

In the evenings, after she has cleaned her small kitchen, Myka Bering might sit down in an armchair beneath the great bookshelf and read. On Friday and Saturday nights she has a glass of wine and puts cello concertos on the stereo; and if it is warm she will open the French windows in the kitchen and enjoy the scent of orange blossom drifting through the house. Sometimes her friend Abigail will come over and drink wine with her and try and talk her into going out.

“It’s been four years,” Abigail will say, “time to get back on that horse, kid. They’re not all secretly married.”

And Myka will roll her eyes and say “I am perfectly content staying at home.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Abigail will say, “Christ, Mykes. I bet I’m the first person you’ve talked to in days.”

“Not true!” Myka will say, triumphant, “I had an exciting conversation with Mrs Kim about the tinned tomatoes she had on sale yesterday! And anyway,” she will add as Abigail rolled her eyes, “I like living quietly by myself. I count myself lucky to be able to.”

“I’m just jealous,” admits Abigail one evening, “Every week I have to explain to my mother why Josh and I aren’t breeding, and hear statistics on the dwindling fertility rate in women our age.”

“Well, she has to tell you these things because you didn’t become a real doctor.”

“Real doctor my ass,” Abigail mutters, and takes a big sip of wine.

“Kids are nice,” says Myka, who is an aunt. “And other people’s kids, who I can leave with their parents at the end of the day, are the nicest of all.”

And Abigail looks about at the tasteful ornaments and unmarked lounge suite and kilim carpet and finds it hard to imagine children trampling into this oasis of calm.

Myka Bering has done well for herself. When she first started living in the house she would get up at five and rush about, taking breakfast with her to eat as she drove to work in the same old Nissan Bluebird that she had had since college. But now she gets up at seven, turns the radio onto NPR, and leaves it playing as she makes herself a cup of coffee and sits down at her computer in the small office she has set up in the back bedroom. She has replaced her old car with one that she doesn’t have to keep having repaired, and she wears nicer suits on the days when she goes into the city. And after a few years she did indeed hire men to come in and replace the old roof, so that she didn’t have to keep climbing up with her hammer every autumn.

But still she continues to live quietly, sticking to her routine. Perhaps she’s more likely to work late into the evenings instead of sitting in her chair and reading. The walls of the back bedroom-office have slowly accumulated pinned maps and diagrams and lists, and the spare bed has become a place to keep folders and file boxes. Myka buys an oak bookshelf for the room and fills it with heavy textbooks on city design and transport planning, and from time to time as she works she will push her office chair across to the shelf and consult one. But other than these few things the room is sparse. While the rest of the house is filled with lovely rich colours, the back bedroom-office, where she spends so much of her waking time, remains white and utilitarian.

“You’ve become a hermit. It’s very you, but it’s not healthy,” her sister tells her on one of her occasional visits. She lives somewhere far away, and when she arrives she has a suitcase and Myka changes the sheets and opens the windows of the second-best bedroom.

“I have a very nice life,” Myka replies.

“You have a very nice house,” rejoins her sister, “It’s not the same thing.”

And then they will quarrel until one of them cries, or stomps out of the room in a temper, or they both become distracted by a pop song from their adolescence.

“Well, if you’re happy I suppose that’s that,” says Abigail with a sigh as she puts her coat on one evening. “Are you happy?”

“Of course I am,” says Myka.

One winter’s day Myka Bering is woken up by a phone call. She has fallen asleep curled around the folders and file boxes on her spare bed, after spending days and nights working on a difficult project. It takes her several tries to get the phone to work.

“H’llo?” she finally mutters into the device.

“Myka! Where are you!? I’m waiting in Arrivals!” says her sister.

“Arrivals?” yawns Myka.

“Arrivals! At the Denver airport! Holy fuck, Myka, have you missed the fucking plane?”

“Wha’?” says Myka sitting up. “No, that’s tomorrow…”

“It IS tomorrow you idiot!” yells her sister. “How could you lose track of the day!? You!? Have you just spent the whole week in that house not speaking to anyone!? Oh my god, you have haven’t you!?”

Myka runs into her bedroom and begins hastily packing a suitcase while her sister continues shouting in a tinny voice that she certainly isn’t going to tell their parents that Myka won’t be making it to Thanksgiving, and that Myka needs to sort her life out.

“My life is fine,” mutters Myka as she grabs her keys and drags her suitcase out to the car.

But perhaps it is time Myka Bering’s life had a little bit of a shake-up. We’ll start small, though. We’ll open a gate.

Myka Bering does not consider herself much of a gardener. This is important too. I suspect the deficit is due more to a lack of interest than a lack of ability, because I believe that Myka can do anything she puts her mind to.

But instead she pays Mr Jackson to keep the strip of front lawn tidy and to mow the grass around the apricot tree every other week. And because she mostly works from home now, when he arrives she will leave the back bedroom-office and help him shift the wooden lawn furniture she keeps under the tree into the driveway, and then back again when he is finished.

The back lawn is perfect. It is flat and even, largely because she had hired a roller in her first year in the house, and had spent several Saturdays onerously rolling the ground flat. In the spring and summer, before Mr Jackson is due to cut it, the grass in the back yard grows almost long, with dandelions and clover flowers everywhere and bees happily wandering about. On sunny evenings Myka Bering sits outside in a lawn chair under the apricot tree, and has her dinner and reads.

Other than the tree — and a small shed tucked up against the back fence — the lawn spreads out to the fence line, unmarred by any hedge or flowerbed. Myka has not grown anything else in the yard in the four years she has lived there, other than some night stock that she planted beside the French windows one year so that the perfume would drift inside the house when she hooked them open in the evenings; but night stock is, of course, an annual, and she didn’t bother replacing it the next year. Myka Bering prefers things neat and tidy and low-maintenance.

Now, decades ago the Alvarado family had lived in the house and had been good friends with the Rojas family in the house next door (that is, until Adriana Rojas ran off to New York with Izzy Alvarado to become Rockettes, thus causing a rupture that was never fully repaired). In the evenings, after supper, the parents would sit together on the front porch of one of the houses and drink beer and talk and listen to the baseball or swing music on the radio, while their children ran up and down the street. And when night fell, and they would call everyone inside and bid each other a good night.

And so, when it came time to replace the old fence between the two properties, Mano Alvarado suggested putting in a gate halfway down, so that the families didn’t always need to walk out onto the street and around every time they wanted to go between the two back yards.

Mano and John Rojas were both builders, and they knew their trade. When they built something, they built it to last for two generations and more. And so the gate still stood there, halfway down the back yard fence, when Myka Bering (and the bank) bought the little house.

Myka had tried the gate once, when she first moved in, and found its old hinges immovable and its latch stuck fast, all fused solid by rust. And deciding that this was as good as a fence she had left it alone. She had painted it, of course, or at least she had painted her side of it; and now it was a fetching bottle green, to match the lawn and the apricot tree. But, not intending to ever use the gate, she didn’t bother replacing the hinges and broken latch, and rarely thought of it again.

And so one afternoon in April Myka Bering is standing in her kitchen putting together a cheese sandwich. It is past three o’clock so she doesn’t allow herself any more coffee, but a snack is permissible. It is spring, and she has the French windows open, and a movement outside makes her look up.

There is a girl in her back yard.

The girl is standing beyond the apricot tree, intently examining a corner of the lawn.

Myka Bering steps out of the house and walks over the perfectly level grass towards her.

“Hello?” she says cautiously, “Can I help you?”

The girl turns to look at her. She is maybe nine? ten? years old and has long, black hair and dark eyes. She is wearing jeans and an adult’s t-shirt that says ‘A WOMAN’S PLACE IS IN THE REVOLUTION’.

“Do you rent?” she asks Myka.

“What?” says Myka.

“Do you rent this house?” says the girl, and then, perhaps supposing that Myka may not be familiar with the concept of renting, she adds: “Does somebody else own your house and you pay them money each week in order to live in it?” She has a vaguely mid-Atlantic accent.

“Oh. No,” says Myka. “I own it. Me and the bank.”

This answer seems to please the girl, though she doesn’t smile. She turns fully around now, so that she faces Myka and holds up an envelope. “Then can I—” she stops, frowns, takes a breath, and starts again “—may I plant pumpkins in your garden?”

Myka blinks. “Well, no. I don’t have a garden… Sorry, who are you? And, uh, where did you come from?”

The girl points with the hand not holding the envelope. The green gate is now ajar.

“How on earth did you manage to open that?” Myka asks. “I was sure it was rusted shut. You live next door? I thought the Menzies were there?”

The girl shrugs. “I don’t know who they are,” she says, “I live there now, with mamma.” She gives an Old World pronunciation to the last word. “Which means we’re neighbours. So can I — may I — plant pumpkins in your garden?”

Myka Bering finds herself looking about for another adult to take over, but her back yard stubbornly persists in containing only the two of them. “Hey, I really don’t know if you should be talking to strangers without your, uh, mamma,” she tries, “You don’t know anything about me. I could be a bad guy.”

“Mamma says it’s perfectly reasonable to speak to people one doesn’t know because otherwise one will never find friends or make one’s way in the world.” announces the girl, “And also that statistically I am in far more danger from family members than strangers,”

“Oh,” says Myka.

The girl nods. “I reminded her that she was my only family member. She said that I would do well to keep that fact in mind.”

Myka looks back at the green gate in the wall.

“So. Mrs Pérez gave everyone in the class pumpkin seeds today, and I want to plant my ones here, please.” The girl, it seems, will not be side-tracked by trivialities like stranger-danger. “She told us that they would be ready by Halloween, and we could make jack o’lanterns.”

“But why can’t you plant them in your back yard?” asks Myka.

With tremendous patience the girl explains. “Because we rent. And Mamma says I can’t dig up the lawn because the landlord mows the lawn himself and he will see. But you don’t rent, and you don’t have anything else growing here, only grass. So can I plant my seeds here?”

Myka Bering tries to think of a reason why the girl couldn’t plant pumpkin seeds in her back yard and fails.

“I… suppose you could,” she says. “Where would you plant them?”

The girl points at the corner she was inspecting. “I thought the pumpkins would be out of the way there.”

Myka examines the spot. It seems as adequate to the purpose as any other.

“Alright,” she says, tentatively, reluctantly. “But right at the edge, okay? I don’t want too much of my lawn dug up.”

The girl nods her agreement. “Thank-you,” she adds, very properly.

“Uh, I think pumpkins need a lot of water. Maybe? You’ll have to look it up. So you’ll have to water them regularly. I’m not going to,” says Myka, trying to regain ground she suspects she has never really had since this conversation began.

“Of course,” says the girl. “I have a watering can.”

“Well then,” says Myka, taking a step towards the garden shed, “Um, do you want a spade or…?”

“I have a trowel,” says the girl. “I only want to make small holes and drop each seed in. You don’t want your lawn dug up,” she reminds Myka.

“No,” says Myka. “I don’t. Well, uh. Okay. G’bye, then.”

“Good-bye,” says the girl, who is already turning towards the green gate in the fence, presumably to fetch her trowel.

Myka watches her disappear and then looks about the back yard. Everything appears quite normal, but she feels a faint apprehension of an approaching change... still beyond the horizon, but inexorably on its way, like the pressure drop before a thunderstorm. After a moment she shakes her head and goes back inside and finishes making her sandwich.

As she carries on with her work that afternoon, Myka Bering occasionally looks out through the window of the back bedroom-office and watches the girl at the end of the yard. The apricot tree obscures much of her activity, but she spends a lot of time carefully digging. And later she has a metal watering can which she judiciously applies to certain spots about her.

That evening Myka goes out to look over the girl’s labours. There, cut into the grass that ran along the fence line, are twelve black holes, each about the diameter of a coffee-cup. Myka looks back at the green gate. It is now shut. Still feeling a little uneasy Myka Bering walks back inside and begins to prepare her dinner.

#myka bering #helena g wells #christina wells #abigail cho #Pumpkins Story #bering and wells #bering & wells

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awlimagines · 5 months

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Well, that was a New Year’s Eve kiss you won’t forget anytime soon. Part Three

It was the last day of winter in Forget-Me-Not Valley. In the city, you would have a dozen plans that would result in remaining home to ring in the New Year alone. There was a party at the Bluebird Bar tonight, but you hesitated to attend. It wasn’t that you didn’t have anything to celebrate. In a year, you had improved the farm immensely, and villagers had commented on how great you had done. But you had yet to give the Blue Feather to someone special like Takakura suggested in the summer. You twirled the item in question between your fingertips. Takakura surely wasn’t serious about you getting married so quickly. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you glanced again at the clock. You grabbed your coat and left for the party. If this would be your last night in the valley, you’d at least go out with a bang.

MARLIN/MATTHEW

You were surprised when Matthew came into the bar alone. The bar was usually pretty empty, but for tonight, it was packed. You waved to catch his attention and indicated an empty seat next to you. As Matthew slid into the seat, you were again reminded of the man's attractiveness. He was exactly your type, especially after you grew closer and realized how sweet he was beneath the tough exterior he put on.

“You’re not here with Rock?” he greeted.

“Nope,” you popped, motioning to where the blonde sat with Lumina as you took a swig of your drink.

Rock and you dated, but not very seriously. It wasn’t your best idea to use the blonde to try and drown your feelings for the brunette farmer. Rock then ditched you in the fall for Lumina. You couldn’t even blame the boisterous guy for it. Things would have never worked even before you agreed with Rock’s parents that Matthew would be a better marriage choice. Matthew’s sharp blue eyes observed the happy couple with an expression you couldn’t read before turning back.

“No, Ceci?” you asked as Gavin placed a drink before Matthew.

“She’s with Nami.”

“Ah, well, let’s drown our sorrows then!” you cheered with false bravado as you clinked your glass into his. You soon lost track of the drinks you consumed. It wasn’t midnight; you could tell through your fuzzy senses as Matthew supported you to the door. You heaved in the frigid air and felt some sobriety return at the chill. Matthew cast glances toward you each time you stumbled as he led you home. Tears pricked your eyes as you stepped on the farm. You wouldn’t leave without letting Matthew know your feelings.

“I've liked you since the beginning of summer. Matthew, I’m sorry. But just let me this once before I go, please,” you muttered before grabbing his collar and crashing your lips into his. You parted for a breath and prepared to kiss the man again before he gently stopped you.

“Y/N, I can’t. You’ve had too much to drink,” Matthew led you through your door. He pointed to your bed and told you to lie down. You fought more tears as you climbed into bed. At least you wouldn’t remember this rejection in the morning and would be gone before dealing with the consequences.

You woke in the morning to knocking on your door. Blearily, you climbed from bed to open the door. It was better to tell Takakura you failed and get it over with. You blinked in shock at Matthew standing on your doorstep first thing in the morning. You could see Takakura hovering behind him, as confused as you were about what was happening.

“Do you remember last night?” Matthew wasn’t beating around the bush. You nodded as you invited him in to talk with some privacy. Matthew hardly waited for the door to shut before continuing, “Good, then tell me again, sober.”

“Um,” you hesitated, unsure of what was happening. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Matthew frowned before leaning closer to you. “Did you mean it when you said you liked me last night?”

“Oh, that! I mean, yes! I’m sorry to dump such feelings on you like this before leaving.”

“Why are you leaving? Isn’t the farm doing well?”

“Aha, well, Takakura wanted me to give this to someone, and it didn’t quite work out,” you mumbled, showing him the Blue Feather.

“Is that all?” Matthew asked, taking the feather from your hands. “I’ll take care of it.”

You stumbled after Matthew as he left the house and approached Takakura. The world felt like it had turned upside down as you stood and listened to Matthew speak. Matthew explained in no uncertain terms his feelings for you and his intentions while holding the Blue Feather.

MUFFY/MOLLY

As you gulped the last of your drink, the countdown began. So much for going out with a bang, you bitterly thought as you set the empty glass on the counter. You had only a moment to register the couples around you, locking lips before feeling a tug on your collar. Molly’s desperate grasp on your shirt pulled you across the bartop to firmly plant her lips against your own. You fought down surprise and the impulse to pull her back as her hand dropped away. The blonde returned to work as though nothing had happened.

You felt dazed and confused before deciding to ask Molly about the kiss. After you declined another drink, the blonde pointedly ignored you. The rational part of your mind reasoned she was still working. The irrational part screamed that she already regretted the action. It was close to 2:00 a.m. before the bar was empty, and Molly asked Gavin for a break. As Molly came around the bar to sit on a stool alongside you, you prepared to question her.

“You’re getting ready to leave, aren’t you?” Molly abruptly asked. She chuckled at your shocked expression before explaining further. “I recognize that look. I’ve been there too before I moved here. I just hoped I could give you a reason to stay.”

“I do want to stay! I want to be here with you,” you wailed as the weight of your emotions and stress overflowed. You couldn’t remember how you got home or what happened from when the tears started. A glass was pressed into your hand as you struggled to sit up and check the time through a pounding headache.

“Here, darling, you should drink some water,” Molly cooed. When you grasped her hand, the blonde grinned and sat beside you on the bed’s edge. “You know, it’s cute, but I’d like to make some decor changes at some point.”

#harvest moon #story of seasons #story of seasons a wonderful life #harvest moon a wonderful life #sos awl #bokujou monogatari #hm awl #awl imagines #awl marlin #awl marlin x reader #awl muffy #awl molly #awl muffy x reader #awl molly x reader #awl matthew #awl matthew x reader #matthew should have just been a separate one shot from how that went

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ternfic · 3 days

Text

Bluebird

Chapter One: Lost At Sea

Thank the Man Upstairs for the fog, was all Metalbeard could think as they lost sight of their pursuit- who hopefully had lost sight of them as well. The Sea Cow was one of the fastest ships to ever sail the seas, but even she couldn’t outrun Bad Cop’s flying forces for long.

“Captain, where are we?” Skeeter asked, squinting to try to see through the fog. It was so thick, they couldn’t see the bow from where they stood at the wheel.

“I’ll tell ye in a bit,” Metalbeard murmured. “Methinks we lost ‘em, at least for now.”

“Land ho!” Mollie shouted.

“How is she actually seeing through this mess…?”

“We must be comin’ out of it now.” Sure enough, after a few more minutes they came through the other side. It was like someone had cut it with a knife, it ended so abruptly. There was no time to relax, though- they had to put as much distance between them and that fog as possible, lest Bad Cop find his way out, and them, again. They sailed on for several hours, hardly daring to speak as though they would be heard somehow, when once again Mollie called down to them.

“Captain! Look!” Metalbeard glanced in the direction she pointed. It was an island- not a very large one- and on its beach was the strangest thing. From a distance, it looked like a coffin had washed ashore.

“Oh that poor soul…” the pirate captain murmured, turning the ship toward the island. The crew didn’t even need to be ordered to prepare the ship, apparently of the same mind as their captain. They got as close to the island as they dared to get before dropping the anchor. Metalbeard picked a handful of crew members to come ashore with him, taking a longboat the rest of the way.

“That be a strange coffin, Cap’n,” Sly muttered. “Awful complicated.”

“Aye,” Metalbeard agreed. “Tis makin’ funny noises…” He pressed his hand to the lid as he leaned in to get a better look, and startled when it gave a sudden hum and hiss, the lid popping loose. He gave it an experimental nudge; it slid aside easily enough. And inside was an equally strange sight.

It was a young man, as far as they could tell, dressed in a protective blue suit, his helmet cracked. The yellow glass of the visor had come loose and slid off at some point. Metalbeard recognized the logo on his suit; he was one of those astronauts from Cape Space. There was a faint beep, and the young man started screaming and thrashing, staring blindly into the sky.

“Sink me, he’s still alive!” Metalbeard yelped, jerking back to avoid being smacked by a flailing limb. It was a few seconds later that he finally calmed, blinking quizzically at the sky before shoving his helmet off and gasping for air. “Easy, lad,” Metalbeard soothed, helping him as he attempted to sit up. The young man looked at him. “Do ye know where ye be?”

The astronaut glanced around, taking in their surroundings then looked back at him. “Pirate’s Cove, by the looks of you guys.” Metalbeard nodded to himself, satisfied. He was coherent; that was a good sign.

“So he be as lost as we are,” Ridge laughed.

“I’m not lost!” Metalbeard bellowed at his belligerent crew, earning a snicker from the astronaut. “I just need a bit to get me bearings!”

“We got chased out here by Bad Cop, and we’ve no idea where we be at,” Ridge continued in explanation.

“Who’s Bad Cop?”

The pirates fell silent. “…Ye don’t know who Bad Cop is?”

“Uhh, duh? I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

“Lord Business took over the world and outlawed Master Builders. Bad Cop’s his attack dog, he’s been hunting us down.”

“You’re all Master Builders?” The astronaut wrinkled his nose in distaste, and Skeeter rolled his eyes.

“Great, another one of them. Just leave him, Captain. Bad Cop will probably find him and pick him up,” he grumbled. Metalbeard looked thoughtful.

“Nay, we be takin’ him with us,” the captain decided. “And bring that fancy coffin with ye!”

“It’s not a coffin, it’s a cryostasis pod,” the astronaut explained, accepting Metalbeard’s offered hand as he climbed out. They stared as he wobbled several inches above the sand. He glanced down, as his eyes went wide. “Whoa. Uh.”

“…I take it ye don’t normally do that?” Metalbeard ventured.

“Not really, no. Crap, how do I get down??” Skeeter fought down a snicker and reached for the astronaut’s shoulders, gently pushing him down until his feet were firmly planted in the sand again. “That’s kinda freaky…” the astronaut muttered, then grinned. “And kinda cool.”

“Well come on then,” Metalbeard said, gesturing for the astronaut to follow. “What be yer name, lad?”

“Benny!” he chirped. “Benny Blue! I’m the engineer of my crew!” He gasped suddenly, freezing in place. Sly cast him a concerned look, at his horrified expression. “Oh stars, my crew-”

“We only found ye, Benny lad,” Metalbeard told him softly. Benny didn’t look like he was taking that news too well.

“Wait wait wait,” the astronaut said, his breath quickening. “What day is it?”

“It be Thursday,” Metalbeard answered, confused.

“No no, month and day-”

“June second,” Ridge told him, catching on. Benny went pale.

“Oh- oh sh- How long was I in stasis?! Our flight was in August! Don’t tell me I’ve been under for almost a whole year-!”

The pirates glanced at each other in concern. If he didn’t know Business was in control of the whole world… “…More like almost four, if ye don’t know of Lord Business or Bad Cop,” Metalbeard admitted reluctantly. Benny’s legs gave out at that, dropping him to the ground.

“What… So it’s- it’s Ninety-Two now? Ninety-Three?”

Metalbeard’s heart sank. Oh, this poor lad… “Try Two Thousand and Nine, lad.” Benny wheezed, grabbing his head and hunching over.

“Fuck.”

“Ye be in shock,” Metalbeard said. Not that he could blame Benny. Based on his guesses, he’d been in this ‘stasis’ for a couple decades. “Come on, come aboard. We can take ye to Cape Space, to yer hospital there.”

“Yeah. That’s- I think that’s a good idea.” Benny shakily got to his feet, and Metalbeard offered his arm for support. The astronaut nearly fell onto him, grabbing onto his offered arm and clinging to it for dear life. “So uh. What’s your name?”

“Me given name’s Jonas, but most know me as Metalbeard.”

“Oh. Cause of the-” Benny giggled, bordering on hysterical. “The metal beard. Yeah. That’s- that’s pretty cool, actually.” The crew grabbed Benny’s pod, dragging it to the water and tying it to the longboat to float along behind them. As they rowed back to the ship, Benny burrowed into Metalbeard’s side, shaking like a leaf. The captain didn’t comment on it, instead launching into one of his infamous stories to distract the distressed astronaut.

“I got picked up by a pirate crew when I was a wee lad of only four years. A plague had been sweeping the islands, and me parents didn’t wake, so they found me wandering the docks alone and took me in…”

Skeeter, Sly, and Ridge kept silent during the telling. They’d heard it before, of course- several times, even- but Benny really seemed in need of something, anything, else to occupy his mind with. He was barely responsive as they boarded the ship and Metalbeard tugged him toward his own quarters, giving him some space and some privacy to have a breakdown if he so needed. The stasis pod was hauled aboard and stowed in the cargo hold.

“You know, I never would have guessed you were from the islands if you hadn’t said so,” Benny chattered. “Though I guess if you were picked up that young, of course you wouldn’t really sound like it anymore.” He quirked a grin at the pirate captain. “That’s something we kinda have in common.”

“Aye?”

“Yeah. I was born and raised in the Old West.”

“Well shiver me timbers!” Metalbeard laughed. “Never would have pegged ye as a country boy.”

Benny wrinkled his nose at that. “Yeah. I got poked fun at a lot for it, when I first started college. Everyone kept asking me what some backwater hick was doing studying engineering.” He smirked. “I showed them, though. I was twenty-four when I flew my first mission into space! Youngest astronaut ever!”

“Gracious, lad, and ye look even younger.”

Benny snickered. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” He tilted his head as Metalbeard grabbed a blanket and shook it out, moving to drape it around his shoulders. “Dude. You know I don’t need that, right? My suit’s plenty warm as it is.”

“Aye, maybe ye don’t need the warmth, but I’d feel better knowin’ ye be comfortable.” Benny sighed, but didn’t protest any further. He nuzzled into the material; it was very soft.

“Thanks,” he murmured after a moment. “I don’t know what you’re expecting to get from me, for all your help, but I do appreciate it.”

“I’m not expectin’ anything, lad. Just helpin’ a soul in need.”

“You’re really not was I was expecting a Master Builder to be like.”

“Aye? And what were ye expectin’?”

“Well, when I… left… Master Builders were massive jerks. If you weren’t one, you were worthless, in their eyes. I worked with a couple, before. They were always sneering down at me for ‘thinking I could be like them without actually being one of them’, or some such nonsense.” Benny rolled his eyes. “I would have loved to see them figure out my cryostasis system.”

“Ye invented that stasis contraption?”

“Well.” Benny gave him a sheepish grin. “Me and my crew, anyway. I wonder what happened to them…”

“…Rest, lad. Maybe ye can find out when we get ye back to yer own realm.”

#the lego movie #bluebird #benny the spaceman #metalbeard

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berry-nonnie · 6 months

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[Video Start]

The screen was dark and the sound of fabric rustling was covering conversation that sounded like it was coming from another room.

“The old fuck really didn’t have great stuff,” they muttered, and it could be heard searching through a box of items. Glass, plastic, metal. The noise paused. “Is this a Walkman? Don’t matter, mine now, yoink.”

They could be heard stuffing an item into its pocket, and the search continued. Conversation sounded closer, and the rustling of its movements stopped again, followed by the sound of it shoving another item into its pocket. The voice of a woman became clearer, asking ××× what they’re doing.

“I’m just looking around for the last time, I’m going to really miss coming here for the holidays,” it sighed, and the woman gave a sympathetic hum. The camera moved out of their pocket like it was pretending to check the time on its phone, the well worn wooden floor and old shoes it was wearing were all that could be seen from the angle before the camera was put back. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. I’ve got an appointment in the morning, can’t miss it. It was great to see you again.”

They hugged the woman and left.

[Cut]

“Bluebird, look at this,” they called out loudly, the sound of a door closing following their words. It pulled out its camera and the items that it took from their late family member. They placed down an old Walkman, a small digital camera, and two old looking cassette tapes. “Man, this is junk. Do you want one of these tapes?”

“Uh, sure,” another voice chirped as their friend approached. It grabbed one of the cassette tapes and handed it to its friend. “What’s on them?”

“No clue. They were left to me by my dead grandma, you’re welcome by the way,” it turned the other tape over in one hand with the camera pointed at it. The cassette tape was dusty, and strange 4 was inked onto it.

“Oh! Right, thank you ×××,” their friend said sheepishly, and they let it look at their tape on camera too. The friend’s tape was completely unlabeled. “You didn’t have to give it to me if you got them in the will.”

“You don’t want my gift? I’m trying to share the memory of her life with you, and you don’t want it?” They asked sadly, and its friend could be heard frantically trying to fix their apparent mistake.

“Wha- no! No no, I do! It’s a lovely gift, I’d love to honor her memory with you,” Its friend spluttered, the tape leave frame in the direction of their voice. “I loved your grandma, she was a great woman. I’ll treasure this cassette tape, I promise.”

“I’m glad, bluebird. You’re such a good friend, I knew you’d like my gift,” it hummed, and it grabbed its new belongings again. “You know, I’m going to go to our spot to listen to my tape. I’ll see you later.”

[Cut]

The camera panned around an overgrown graveyard, headstones nearly obscured by grass and weathered by nature. It turned the camera towards an open mausoleum and entered. Their footsteps echoed against the stone walls, they lowered to the ground, and the Walkman and cassette tape clattered to the ground.

“Time to see what’s on this dusty old tape,” they shut the tape into the Walkman and pressed down on the play button-

[Static]

[Video End]

Playing next File...

[Video Start]

The camera landed on a table, ××× could be seen pacing with headphones over its ears and the Walkman in their hand. The audio was cut, they were talking.

It stopped pacing and threw the Walkman against the wall. The walls of the room it was in were littered with holes and patched with cardboard and tape. They punched the wall and could be seen screaming something. The door opened and a head poked in to say something. It snapped at the person and snatched up the Walkman again. The person left quickly.

It grabbed the camera and stormed out of the room.

[Cut]

The camera was on the forest floor, just in frame was ×××, unconscious on the ground with the Walkman next to its head. It was wearing the headphones. The audio was still cut. The camera stayed recording for an hour before they were dragged out of frame.

[Static]

[Video End]

#berry logs #< except it isnt a log #pre-tapes lore #spent probably too long on this #no beta we die like mike

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manyothermusingsofmine · 24 days

Text

Heartfelt || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: Angst feelings, mostly.

Wordcount: 2248

Summary: Sometimes the best way to support someone, is to be the person you needed most when you were going through similar pain

AN: excuse me while I just casually shred my own heart into pieces over this just HNNG the feels

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"I knew I'd find you here."

The sun had only just dipped away behind the horizon; and Kurt had been up there the whole time as it slowly hid away for the night, the only one who had kept him company on the rooftop of the mansion having been a little bluebird that had long since flown off when she showed up. Granted, this would be exactly where she’d find herself if she needed a moment away from it all again. Speaking of…

"It's not like you to vanish from the mansion for most of the day," Miranda softly noted, "that's usually more my style."

She went over to him, her pace elegant and almost catlike before she halted next to him and slowly sat down. Observing him from the corner of her eyes and clearly debating on what to do as he sat there with his gaze still on the horizon, her hand slowly reached out to him. She clearly hesitated a little, pulling back once or twice before her fingertips lightly touched his arm. It seemed to wake him from his thoughts enough as his eyes went towards her. A deep sigh left him, but before she could take that as a signal to draw her hand back, he placed his own over hers and lightly pushed it closer to his arm.

"Sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me today," he muttered, hoping that answering her supportive touch was what she needed to make her stay, "there's just.. a lot on my mind, I guess."

She looked at his hand as it remained over hers, putting her free hand on top of that and lightly resting her head to the top of his arm in the hopes that the silent physical affection helped a little.

"Is it because of what that cashier said?" she could hear the slight, startled gasp that came out of him at that, which was pretty much confirming it from the get go.

"How did you-"

"Good hearing. I hear a lot; especially things people say when they think they're being subtle and quiet. And she wasn't exactly either in her jealousy."

His eyebrows furrowed at that, and he actually turned his head a little more towards her. Jealous? He tried to remember the tone of the cashier's voice, but all he could think of were her words, not so much the tone they were said in.

"Jealous?"

Miranda just nodded, a slight, knowing smile on her lips as her eyes flicked to Kurt.

"Oh, yeah. It was very obvious that she only said half of what she meant to say. 'Why is he with that human, parentheses, when I'm standing right here?' She'd been trying to get your attention the whole time you were mentally calculating if you had enough money for what we had left to get or if you needed to save some things for a next run."

"My attention? For what?"

She tried not to laugh, her face contorting for a moment at the attempt; but she managed to keep her giggle to herself.

"Please, Kurt. From the moment you walked in she was trying to flirt with you. And it wasn't subtle; even I noticed that was her intent when the amount of times other people had to tell me "Miranda, he was trying to flirt with you" is frankly, straight up, embarrassing."

"Well, some way to do it," Kurt grumbled, trying to ignore the slight burn of embarrassment as it burned in his cheeks, "implying I shouldn't be interacting with regular humans, judging them like that, real attractive, lady. She.. she was implying you- She knows nothing about you, it would’ve been so easy for her to just not say anything.”

"There's worse things to be compared to than a human," Miranda said with a light shrug, to which a thought dawned upon Kurt.

"You... heard what the guy said too, before we went to the convenience store, huh?"

"About you? Yeah. And for what it’s worth; I also heard his friend telling him to shut the fuck up, in a tone that makes me think that friendship isn't going to last much longer if he keeps his idiocy up. Kind of wish I had said something like that, too; but then you suggested leaving so I thought you just didn't want it becoming some whole scene between the four of us. I.. hope that didn't come across as me letting him get away with insulting you." There was a sense of fierce loyalty in her voice, something that told him she would've tore the guy a new one had he not almost immediately suggested they leave.

"I did want to leave as soon as he started insulting me. I don't like wasting my time confronting some stranger who thinks I'm not allowed to exist, looking like I do. But the lady, with her "real human" comment; that stung. As if her physical mutation, as if mine, immediately means we're incompatible with anyone who isn't mutated on the same level, or a non-mutant. I already hear that "too mutant" nonsense enough from someone who's supposed to..."

As his voice trailed off, Miranda turned to him with concern plainly written on her face. He was implying people closer to him than random strangers out on the street were giving him grief for looking the way he did, and she genuinely couldn't think of anyone it could be. The other X-men for as far as she could recall only ever made notes about how fuzzy he was. Even her own team, her friends; even then only his fur came up in conversation, not much else, which begged the question...

"Who's calling you-" she started, the protest fizzling out as soon as his eyes met hers. Something about the slightest hint of sorrow swirling around in them told her that this was something far deeper and more complicated than a friend accidentally coming across as harsher than they wanted to.

"... I've been hearing my mother in my head all day," Kurt quietly admitted, appreciating the light little supportive squeeze she gave his arm, "She... I don't know. I feel like, on some level, she always wanted to be human instead of a mutant. To be normal. Wanted me to be normal. And, well.. I wasn't. And I just hope that someday, who I actually am will be good enough for her."

Her heart simply broke for him, the clipped tone of his voice betraying that this was an old hurt that never seemed to sting any less as time went by. She wanted to ask for the whole story behind it, but decided that was probably the worst thing to ask right about now; she didn’t want to reopen old wounds like that. Her mind was racing, options and questions popping up at random as she tried to figure out what was actually a good move to make, a good thing to say; she never had much faith in her ability to comfort, glad that with the friends she had been making there was always someone who knew what to say if someone was upset. But now, it all came down to her and her alone; she didn't know what to do, how ease even a little bit of his emotional pain on this matter like he did for her whenever her mind got the better of her.

Like he did for her. She grabbed onto that thought, dragging it back to the forefront. If anything, Kurt usually was a perfect example of someone who knew what to say to comfort and reassure. If the roles were reversed, if she was struggling with some emotional matter like this... What would he do? What would she need to hear from him for this to feel even slightly better, if this was happening to her? What would he tell her? She thought about it a bit longer, trying to land somewhere between helpful and gentle, and trying to find a way to say things in her own words. And as it finally came to her, Miranda shifted, turning her whole body towards him. She freed her hands from where they had been the whole time, wrapping them around his chest in a supportive hug as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"You are enough. More than enough. I see you try so hard, every day, to make a positive difference in the world. You're warm, you're kind, you're strong- You’re simply wonderful, Kurt. My life is genuinely a lot better with you in it, and nothing anyone says will ever convince me otherwise. You deserve the whole world, honestly. And your family, your friends, everyone here at the mansion? They see you for who you are, for who you’re trying to be. They love you."

I love you.

Those three words seemed to be sinking away as if trapped in quicksand, stuck somewhere in the very back of her throat with no hope of pulling them any further than that. Unspoken, they swirled lower and lower, sinking away to the depths of her chest as her heart quietly whined in protest. God, how she wished those words were actually easy to say when it mattered most, how she wished that it was easy to simply admit that’s how she truly felt about him. But the longer she tried to grasp those words, the faster they slipped from her fingers, and the more a voice in the back of her head insisted that this wasn't the time to be a romantic sap about the situation. That feeling of it not being the right time to bring it up was only confirmed to her when something in him seemed to crack; as if something was pushed into one last bend it couldn't handle and thus broke instead.

He rapidly lost the fight against his own tears, burning his eyes with such intensity that it took no time for them to start pouring down his cheeks. She let go only enough to pull him into a better hug, gently pressing his head to the lower curve of her neck and pressing a kiss to his head. Keeping one hand there to softly run over his hair, the other was draped protectively around him. She felt how in response he wrapped his arms around her torso, his tail swirling itself around her waist to anchor himself further; holding to her almost for dear life as the tears kept raining down

"Don't go," her heart broke once more at the hurt tone of his voice, "please."

"I'm not going anywhere," she gently reassured, tightening her grip on him ever so slightly, "I promise. I've got you."

She just held him close, silently promising that she was riding this emotional storm out with him no matter how long it would take. And when it did subside, when everything seemed to have poured out of him, she held onto him until he released his grip on her, first. As he pulled back, she cupped his face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently wipe away the remaining tears on his cheeks- He looked emotionally exhausted.

“You… wanna turn in for the night?” she asked softly, to which he nodded in response. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, in the hopes that would reassure him even more, “My room is right below, here, think you can…?”

“Uhm, yeah, give… Give me a moment,” he muttered, wiping at his own eyes as he took a few deep breaths; he needed to calm down a little more before he could manage to visualize her room and teleport them both over. When he did, he held onto her a little tighter than he normally would- really not wanting to let her go, but at the same time…

“I should.. go to my own room, I guess.” It was a poor argument when he couldn’t convince his own body to drop it’s hold on her, her eyes going down to where his hands were clutching onto her arm, before looking back up to him. Quiet defiance built up in her; he was absolutely not going to spend this night alone in his own room, no matter what his claim of that being the better solution was. Grabbing onto him in response, she simply tugged him towards the bed already there. She flopped down on it easily, taking him along as neither actually let go.

“Come here,” it was a soft spoken demand, but a very welcome one as Kurt gratefully nestled himself back in her embrace. Focusing on her calm breathing and the steady beat of her heart, his mind finally seemed to ease up a little while she spoke up, “of course I’m not letting you go by your room to deal with this by yourself. I know firsthand what a poor idea that is… you wouldn’t let me do that either, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he muttered after a bit, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. Just… try and get some sleep, okay? I’m here. I’ll be here, the whole time. Promise.”

“Thank you.”

“This is the least I can do, but, you’re welcome. You’d do the same for me.” She tried to ignore how that notion made her heart flutter and whine at the same time, lightly running her fingers through his hair until he fell asleep in her protective embrace.

#Drifting writes things

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