#I could say many concerning things right now but I'll spare anyone who felt like reading this my morbid diary entry

[buckynats]

.

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

[tiny-slasher]

Thomas Hewitt x Reader | Coffee Shop AU | Part 2

“Some more coffee shop AU thomas hewitt?👉👈“

“i've read that coffee shop au you wrote for thomas multiple times and i need more please!!!“

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･

You'd started to get strange looks from your coworkers. They never explicitly said so, but you knew why. You'd gone to Luda Mae's coffee shop every Wednesday and Thursday evening, spending more money on coffee than you had in your entire life, just to catch a glimpse of him.

He was so large, barely fitting in the space between the workstation and the counter you paid at. His hair was tangled under the straps of his mask, and his clothes were always stained with coffee. The intenseness of his eyes and constant furrow of his brow should've frightened you, and yet you found yourself lured by him instead. He always seemed surprised to see you, no matter how many weeks you'd continued your pattern, as if expecting you to just disappear one day. You were hoping that eventually the shock would fade, and that he'd seem relieved instead.

Upon arriving early at the coffee shop one Thursday afternoon, you were disappointed to see that Thomas wasn't there. You hadn't meant to show up so soon, but you'd felt so angry at your coworkers that you'd decided you couldn't stay at work for a second longer than you had to. Still fuming, you walked into the shop amidst the dwindling crowd of customers. The fact that they were all in such a hurry to leave, knowing Thomas' schedule themselves, had your blood boiling.

Your thoughts were broken by a familiar snap of fingers in your face, "Oi! What's gotten you all in a hissy fit, huh?"

The man at the register was Thomas' uncle, Charlie, who had introduced himself the third time you'd showed up in the shop. He was...not the type of person you would generally find yourself in company with, but he was nice enough when he wanted to be. Even though you hadn't breathed a word of your infatuation with Thomas, he and Luda Mae seemed to be very aware of it. You weren't sure if it made you giddy or uncomfortable when one of them was smiling at you, happy to see you in their shop again.

"What's the matter, darlin'? How bout I get'cha a cup, alright? The usual?" Luda Mae asked from behind Charlie, making her way to the coffee machine before you could respond.

You sighed and apologized, pulling out some money from your pocket. Luda Mae shook her head, "Nah, it's on the house, today. You look like ya need it."

Charlie groaned and turned to her, "Mama, ya can't be givin' out free drinks to them every time they show up!"

"It's my coffee, and I'll do as I please!"

You tiredly smiled at the two, shoving your money in the tip jar while they were looking away. Sitting down at a table nearby, you rubbed your temples in an attempt to rid yourself of a frustrated headache. You didn't realize that a cup of coffee had been set in front of you until a warm, gentle hand rested on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw Luda Mae watching you in concern.

"I'm alright," you sighed. "Just had a long day at work, 's all."

She hummed, sitting down in a chair across from you. You sipped your coffee, sighing at the deep, silky, smooth flavor that hit your tastebuds. Despite your coworkers' very unkind opinions, their description of the coffee was shockingly accurate. The thought of them brought a frown to your lips.

"Oh, is the coffee no good? The machine's been a bit fussy today," Luda Mae sent a glare towards her coffee machine.

"No, no it's delicious! I was just..." You sigh and rub your eyes. "I just need to take a breather, I think."

"Well, alright. But if ya need anything, jus' holler, alright?" she patted you on the back before walking back behind the counter.

You tried to distract yourself with the coffee, but no matter how delicious it was, it wasn't strong enough to rid you of the memories in your head.

"His name is Thomas!" you'd bit out right before taking your leave for the day. "Not Leatherface!"

The disgusted glances they'd sent your way the entire morning had been bad enough, but hearing your coworker's unsavory nickname for him had been the final straw. You'd been tempted to punch each of their faces in, appalled that grown adults were even capable of such childish gossip and name calling, but settled with slamming the door on your way out. And now, your anger was growing again at the ever dwindling crowd in the coffee shop.

Now you understood why Luda Mae and Charlie had been so quick to dismiss you the first time you'd spoken to them, and it hurt to think about. How often must Thomas have been ridiculed or teased in his life for his mother and uncle to just assume that everyone automatically disliked him? That everyone had something nasty to say? The thought alone that anyone would purposely hurt Thomas, just because he was different, made you see red.

You jumped out of your skin when you felt a nudge at your shoulder, looking up to see Thomas standing over you. You were not used to him standing so close to you. He lifted his hand in a small wave, which he'd started doing after the fourth time you'd shown up to the shop, and you reciprocated.

"Hey, you're early!" you smiled at him.

He just shrugged, lifting his hands as if to try and say something with them, but then lowered them. Butterflies filled your stomach as he sat down across from you, his knees barely fitting under the table. You didn't want to seem like you were staring, but it was hard not to. He was just so handsome!

Still, you knew you were apparently in the minority of people who thought so. Everyone who talked about his looks always had to bring up his mask, and the scars on his arms. Someone had even started a rumor about what his face looked like underneath, and the descriptions only grew more and more elaborate as time went on. Even the smarter people that you knew were buying into these stories, and it frustrated you to no end.

"Hm?" you asked.

Thomas gestured if you were alright, and your cheeks heated as you realized you'd gotten lost in your thoughts again. You apologized, assuring him it was nothing, when Luda Mae walked over and placed a cup of coffee in front of Thomas.

"Here ya go, darlin'. Charlie and I will be leavin' in a few minutes. You might have a bit of trouble with the machine...it's been actin' a bit strangely," she told him, and then turned to you with a smile. "I suppose I'll see you next week?"

You nodded, "Hopefully."

Her smile grew wide, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. She gave you another pat on the back, kissed Thomas on the forehead, and then left into the back room. Thomas blushed at his mother's antics, and you couldn't help a smile from forming on your lips.

"You two behave!" Charlie yelled at you before walking into the back room himself.

You nearly choked on your coffee, but managed to compose yourself. The flush on Thomas' face was a lot darker than before, and he huffed in Hoyt's direction. You could feel his distaste rolling off of him in waves, and it was one of the many times you wished Thomas spoke. You always wondered what he was thinking. Was he funny? Was he smart? You got the feeling that he was sarcastic, if his eye rolls were any indication, but you never knew for sure.

Thomas sipped his coffee, alternating between looking at it and looking up at you. He always seemed like he wanted to say something to you, but of course, he never did.

"Have you ever tried to learn sign language?" you asked him.

Thomas slowly shook his head, his fingers twitching as if wanted to add on to that statement.

"Well, we could learn together, if you want!" you suggested, nervously.

Thomas blinked, his eyes burning into yours, and then he nodded. His mouth opened, and then slammed shut again, as his fingers twitched in abandoned attempts to communicate. Frustrated, Thomas stood and walked behind the counter, and then came back with a notepad and a pen. Your heart fluttered, excited and a bit nervous. You'd spent so many weeks wanted to know more about him, and now you supposed you'd get your chance.

So what if he wasn't behind the counter like he was supposed to be? It wasn't like many customers showed up anyway. You'd be surprised if he got more than two or three, and even then they'd probably leave in a hurry.

Seemingly agreeing with you, Thomas sat down and began scribbling on the notepad. Turning it towards you, you saw the phrase "I might learn slow" in very sloppy handwriting. Clearly, his penmanship wasn't the best, but it was legible...and that's all that really mattered.

"That's okay! I don't mind!" you said excitedly.

He nodded, his concern somewhat put to rest, and he clasped his hands on the table in front of him. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he clasped his hands in front of him, unsure what to do. Hearing his voice for the first time did strange things to you, especially with how gravelly and soft it was. It made you wonder what he'd sound like speaking, if he could.

The bell over the door rang, signaling the entry of a customer. You turned to see who'd entered, and saw Thomas get up from the corner of your eye. He walked behind the counter as the man who'd walked in slowly made his way forward. His stance revealed how nervous he was, but he managed to order a cup of coffee without much fuss. He glanced in your direction, giving you a look similar to the ones your coworkers had given you.

Your gaze fell to Thomas as you played with the rim of your now empty coffee cup. You tried not to ogle his backside for too long, in case he looked your way, but you couldn't help but spare a few glances. It didn't take him long to finish brewing the drink, hurriedly paid for by the man ordering it. The man was out the door when you blinked next, and you rolled your eyes.

Thomas made his way over to you, grabbing your cup before you could protest. At first, you assumed he was going to toss it in the sink, but were surprised to see him going to refill it. Of course, you ordered the same thing every time you showed up, so he didn't have to ask what you wanted.

You jumped when you heard a loud bang, and the smashing of ceramic on the tile. You turned to see Thomas recoil from the coffee machine, grunting in what you could only assume was pain. The machine rattled and hissed until Thomas punched the off button to it, holding onto his right hand as though it had been broken.

You immediately stood from your chair and ran over, uncaring of the broken ceramic on the floor, and took his hand in yours. It was bright red, scalded by the hot water of the machine. You dragged him over to the sink and turned on some cool water, making sure it ran over the worst parts of burn. It wasn't until you'd assessed his burn to be fairly minor that you realized how close you were standing to him.

You were holding his wrist in your hands.

You turned to him, noticing how heavy his breathing had gotten. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, and you were sure yours were as well. One of your hands began to travel a bit past his wrist and up his arm, trailing over the thick hair that lay there. Swallowing, you shook your head to gather yourself and looked back at his hand, turning the water off and gently drying it off with a towel.

"It doesn't look too bad...might hurt for a couple of days," you said, frowning at it.

You looked back up at Thomas, still holding his hand in yours. All the air in your lungs vanished at the look he was giving you, one of disbelief, shock, and...something else. You trembled, frozen in place. His chest heaved, as if having to remind himself how to breathe.

He yanked his hand away when the backdoor opened up to reveal Charlie.

"Sorry, forgot my wallet-" he paused, looking at the two of you with a raised eyebrow. "Weeeell, what've we got here? I thought I told you two ta behave!"

Thomas sighed and grabbed a broom to clean up the mess on the floor. You tried to move out of his way, picking a piece of ceramic out of your shoe that had wedged itself there in your haste to help Thomas.

You cleared your throat, "The machine burned Thomas' hand, so I was just helping..."

"Damn thing! Knew we should've just kept the ol' one!" Charlie whacked the machine with a glare, shaking his head. "I told Mama not to get all dazzle-eyed at how shiny it was, but did she listen? Nah."

He grumbled as he walked over to grab his wallet from under the counter, shoving it in his pocket as he shook his head at the machine. Thomas dumped some of the broken cup pieces in the trash, not even wincing when he accidentally brushed his burnt hand on his apron.

"Guess we'll have to pull out the old one, the way the good lord intended," Charlie huffed before turning to Thomas. "Don't even bother making coffee with this piece of shit, we'll just close for the night."

Thomas stopped sweeping and glanced in your direction, his hesitation catching his uncle's attention. Charlie gave him a long look, eyebrow raised, and then followed his gaze to you. Recognition filled his gaze, and your cheeks grew even warmer than they already were.

"Well, if ya wanna stay open all night, be my guest," he drawled, making his way back out. "But I don't wanna be cleanin' no suspicious stains tomorrow, ya hear me?"

Thomas stomped over and ushered him out the door, and you heard Charlie laugh obnoxiously. Thomas spared a glance at you, clearly embarrassed, and then went back to sweeping. You decided it might be best to give him a bit of space, so you began to walk out from behind the counter.

Your heart rate increased exponentially when Thomas' arm wrapped around your stomach from the front, stopping you in your tracks. His grip on you was strong, and your hands instinctively grabbed his arm, feeling the unevenness of his skin where all his scars were. You wanted to ask him about it, but didn't want to drag up any bad memories.

You turned to him, surprised, and he let go to point down at the floor. A few inches from your foot lay a rather jagged piece of ceramic. The odds of it making its way through your shoe and into your foot were extremely unlikely, but clearly Thomas thought otherwise. His brows were furrowed in concern, searching you for any signs of pain.

"O-oh, thank you Thomas," you laughed awkwardly. "I guess I should probably just stand still then."

He nodded, huffing out a breath that resembled a laugh. You backed away a bit and stayed put, letting him finish his work. You definitely did not ogle his backside again when he crouched down to gather everything up. Once finished, he turned back to you as if to say something, but then shook his head and walked back over to the table. You followed him, surprised when he picked up the coffee his mother had made him, and offered it to you. Your heart swelled and a strange sort of a feeling settled in your stomach when you realized he was trying to make up for the refill he wasn't able to give you.

"No, that's alright, if I have any more coffee I'll be up all night," you smiled at him, gently pushing his cup back towards him. "I guess I'll just have to come back when you guys get the coffee machine working again."

Thomas nodded, satisfied with your reply, before reaching down to the notepad on the table. Scribbling something down really quickly, he tore the paper out and handed it to you. You laughed at loud when you read what it said, covering your mouth with your hand.

"IOU 1 coffee - Thomas"

"I'll put this to good use, don't worry," you thought for a moment. "You work in the back the rest of the week, right?"

Thomas nodded, curious as to why you were asking.

"If I come tomorrow," you hypothesized. "Would you come out and make me a coffee?"

Thomas' cheeks reddened, and he played with the strings of his apron. He looked away for a second, and then around at the empty tables, and then finally back to you. Seeing your hopeful expression, he nodded.

You beamed at him, throwing your arms around him in a hug before you could think of doing otherwise. He jumped, his arms hovering out as if they didn't know what to do. Realizing what you'd done, you began to pull away, only to have two large, and warm hands tentatively settle on your upper back. He was so warm, and his embrace was so gentle.

How could anyone think he was a monster?

You smiled up at him, and he let go of a breath he'd been holding a bit too long. You knew you should leave, since you would need to get up early the next day, and there was no reason for Thomas to have to keep the shop open when he couldn't make coffee. Yet, you found yourself hesitating, comfortable in his arms. He seemed to return the sentiment, his grip on you tightening in a barely noticeable way. The two of you stood there for much longer than you probably should have, reluctant to pull away from each other.

Eventually, you made your way over to the exit, with the door held open by Thomas.

"You take care of that hand, alright?" you stressed. "When I come back tomorrow, it better be on the road to recovery."

Thomas rolled his eyes, but smiled at you with such fondness, you found yourself burning. You told him goodbye, parting ways for the evening, relishing in the way he watched you leave.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Well, back so soon?" Charlie teased. "You know it'd be against company policy for me to let'cha out back where Tommy is."

"I actually came to redeem this," you replied, holding up the piece of paper Thomas had given you. "To go, please."

Charlie's grumbled as he pulled out a pair of reading glasses from his pocket. Snatching the paper out of your hand, he read what was written, and his eyebrows raised. Snorting in amusement, he folded his glasses back up and gave you a once over.

Without a word, he walked over to the back door and slammed it open, yelling out into the other room, "TOMMY! GET OUT HERE! AND QUIT GIVIN' OUT COUPONS!"

If you tried to hide the joy you felt upon seeing Thomas, you failed miserably. The smile on your face seemed to be contagious, since Thomas returned it twofold. Neither of you paid any mind to the whispers of the other customers, too wrapped up in your own thoughts.

Luda Mae invited you to dinner while you waited, earning a grumble from Charlie about 'being a freeloader'. You'd agreed, earning an excited and nervous glance from Thomas, who gently placed your coffee in your hands. You smiled at him, confirming that you'd see him later. Waving goodbye to the three of them, you exited the shop to head to work for the day.

It wasn't until you were about to toss the now empty to-go cup in the trash that you noticed a hastily written note on the side.

"Have a good day ♥"

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

PART 1

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 6

Part 6~ cuz I love y'all <3 don't forget to drink your vitamins and keep hydrated! Stay safe and healthy my loves :)

Word count: 3k+ words

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: None. (tis a fluff-filled chapter)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

* beware of little shifts in perspective from two characters, we will be jumping casually from their minds.

*

You caught the orc staring at you again, with a smile that made his tusks jut out more. "H-Hi!" you blurted out, waving.

As you began walking towards him, you found yourself losing balance, your legs giving out. You closed your eyes reflexively and expected to land face-first on the tiled floor.

Only you didn't.

You felt a strong arm around your waist and a large hand on your back, nearly covering the expanse of it. Instead of the floor, you found yourself smushed against something warm, and that thing, you figured out a second later, was Tai'chi's chest. You became flustered and felt your cheeks and ears redden. Your nose was practically inhaling his scent now, all that musky and rich smell of his making you light-headed. Stuttering, you pulled your head back.

"I-I-I— Ta-Tai'chi???"

Congratulations self, that was perfect, wow.

"Hm? Oh, uh, sorry. I acted on impulse when I saw you collapse." He said as the grip he had on you slackened and moved to hold your shoulder to support you in case you fall again, his other hand, though, remained in its place behind you.

"Don't w-worry about it. My legs just gave out, haha."

That came out awkwardly.

Damn, he is fast.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, his words filled with genuine concern. Your ears were sporting a tinge of red, he noticed. Your scent also changed, signaling you were flustered.

"Ye-yep! We should uh, head back to class now. Oh! We haven't eaten anything for lunch." You said and as if on cue, your stomach grumbled to agree, followed by another grumble but louder, it wasn't yours but Tai'chi's.

The two of you laughed from the sounds they made.

"You're right. How about we go to the cafeteria first to grab something before we head back to our classroom?" He asked, smiling down at you.

"Great idea!" You agreed, a little too eager than you would've liked.

"We should get going then."

He straightened up and removed his hand from your shoulder when he was certain you wouldn't stumble again. Though, he let his hand on your back linger a bit longer even after you left the office.

**************************************

The trip to the cafeteria was peaceful, minus the sounds of muffled talking coming from the rooms. Tai'chi was beside you as you walked down the halls, thankful that your legs found their strength again.

Arriving at the significantly less crowded canteen, both of you went ahead and ordered some food before finding a place to eat. Spotting a vacant one a few tables from the main entrance, you trudged to it, Tai'chi following close. You sat down and got a clearer look at his tray.

It was a lot, though you expected it to be. There were more vegetables than meat though.

"Not a fan of meat?"

He looked at you and laughed, echoing through the whole cafeteria, which resulted in some students glancing in your direction.

You were a bit taken aback, not expecting that sort of reaction from him.

"I'm sorry. I just- I don't know why I found it funny. I meant no offense."

"None taken."

"To answer you, I'm a huge fan of meat, red meat to be exact. This was the only portion that's left when I asked for more. And I'm still growing so I made up for the lack of meat with the vegetables. We orcs love a healthy and hearty meal."

What he said made you smile even more.

"What about you?" He glanced at your tray to see a portion almost similar to his albeit more assorted. This made him look back up and you, flabbergasted. "You can eat all of that?"

You looked down to inspect your food choice, and you instantly felt self-conscious.

"I...Uhm yes. I can." You replied, albeit meekly.

Tai'chi noticed the sudden change in your voice and made himself clear; "No, no I didn't mean it like that. I'm just, well, as you already know I haven't met many humans aside from the ones in a village back home, so I was just surprised." Watching him explain himself made you smile again. The thought of you being repulsive vanished out into thin air.

"I eat a lot. Though sometimes I eat more junk than healthy food. Anyways, let's begin, shall we? We're already late and I'm starving!" Laughing, you both know today's attendance in class isn't much of an issue. They did say there won't be any lessons today to give time for 'socializing' instead.

You stopped in your tracks when you realized you haven't shown him your face ever since you met. You looked around to see if anyone was watching and stole glances at the one in front of you. You slowly removed your mask and revealed your face. Not many have seen you without it, only those who are close to you, specifically your family.

"I guess this is the first time you've seen my face, huh?" Nervous, you asked.

Tai'chi stared at you so intensely you felt self-conscious once again. "I-Is there something wrong?"

'Shit, does he find me unattractive? Weird? Not that I expected the opposite but —'

"No. No, there's nothing wrong. You-"

"I'm what?"

"You're beautiful."

'Did he just—'

Your face heated up again and this time you had no mask to hide it.

Hastily, you covered your face with one hand and looked away.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when you did, coughing into his fist before he started eating.

Once you cooled down, you did the same. Trying to focus on the savory food they served in the uni.

Eat, damn it.

You barely noticed the orc, or perhaps you chose not to, as you wolf down your food like you haven't eaten for weeks. Another thing he found admirable and attractive. You ate cleanly, not letting a single piece of food go to waste.

He'll have to find some time later to formally introduce himself, along with other...things.

***********************************

You leaned back on your chair, noticing Tai'chi doing the same, as you let the feeling of content wash over yourselves. The food was great! You made a note to thank the cook later.

You sat up after a moment and arranged your dirty utensils. You were against the thought of making the cafeteria's job of cleaning harder than it is. So you cleaned up, stacked plates properly in your tray with concentration, you didn't realize until later that you did the same to his dishes. You didn't spare a peek up into his eyes or else you'd make a fool out of yourself again. Taking a napkin, you wiped your mouth clean before you quickly put on your mask, much to Tai'chi's dismay.

You stood up but before you could walk away, a hand reached out to grab your arm, stopping you. He stood up from his seat.

"Pearl."

"Uh, yes?"

"There's still time before our next class starts. Would you mind taking a stroll around the campus with me?"

"Y-Yeah— sure. I wouldn't mind." You replied, avoiding his gaze.

The two of you strolled around the quiet grounds of the campus. There were trees, younger than the ones in the forest. You took in the nice scenery before you, feeling the fresh, cool air, the gentle rustling of leaves, calming, and the scent of your companion to your left, relaxing and sweet. You were in a daze, barely paying attention when Tai'chi said your name and stood still.

"Hmm?"

He chuckled lightly at your response.

"I want to continue where we left off in the forest."

"Oh. Oh, of course."

"I want to know more about you, Pearl. So I'll start with my true name." He knelt down which startled you momentarily.

.

"I am Tai'chi Kashharzol, eldest of five siblings, son of Durog and Gala. I come from the Northern stronghold of clan Fatof'san. Before I came down to the city, I was trained and taught basic socialization by an old human who lived in the village under our protection.

"I went through one of my clan's traditions and hunted down my first Snow Bear. The elders gave me an honorary title to carry, right after my kill."

You stood there listening to him earnestly as he told you all of this with pride, taking in each word and committing them into memory.

"I was given the name, 'Frostbreaker'. It is my warrior name." He took a breath before he asked. "Will you honor me of becoming my friend?"

All of this sounds like a confession— technically it is but there's something, intimate about it. The way his eyes shone with such determination and something you can't figure out.

Should I ask? He stopped talking, snap out of it–

"Oh, wow. I mean yes! Yes I'll be your friend. I'd be more than happy to. The honor is mine!"

You beamed as he returned a toothy grin.

"Right. I should also say something like that, well, uh, wait." You were slightly nervous as you removed your mask, offering a shy smile before speaking.

Breathe in.

And out.

"I am Pearl Blackbell, only child and daughter of Leon and Athena Blackbell. I'm from a town, West of here, Red Springs is its name. My parents taught me martial arts, and, uh, the use of self-defense weapons." You paused and showed him your crimson knuckles. "This is my favorite one to use, I'm sure you noticed already. My father... didn't want me to leave home without any assurance that I can defend myself. You were right when you said I have experience in combat. A decent amount of it," you sighed.

"I always, almost every day, get into trouble standing up for someone, bullied, or abused. I also held my own when someone tries to harass me, smashing their faces in."

Tai'chi in turn listened closely, his gaze intense on you. He was concerned about what you implied. Many attempted to assault you? How many times? Did they hurt you? Your smile faltered as you told him the next things about yourself.

"I... didn't have friends as I grew up. People tend to be afraid of what they do not understand, y'know? They didn't want me near them, finding me weird for wearing a mask, plus my reputation for punching humans didn't help," you laughed self-deprecatingly. "So I spent my whole high school years training, mastering my art with the help of my father, who was of course, very strict and hard on me." Finding nothing else comfortable to say at this stage, you went quiet.

"Can I ask you a question?" The orc said a moment later. He was bothered by the fact you had no friends, not even one. And training, training meant pain.

"Only if I can ask one in return." You replied, feeling bold all of a sudden. He grinned at this.

"Why do you always wear a mask?"

There was no trace of ulterior motive in his scent, not the usual annoyance you smelled every time someone asked the same question. So you answered him, honestly.

"Promise you won't get weirded out?"

"I swear on my name."

"Oh. oh, okay that's good. You see, my nose, or my sense of smell specifically, is err, not normal."

Now this made Tai'chi's eyes widen. Did you have an illness of sorts? Is your health in danger? Were you h–

"I can tell how someone is feeling based on the changes in their scent. My nose is very sensitive to odors so I keep wearing a mask every time I go outside. It has been like this since I was born. My doctors say it's rare for a human to possess, they say it's special, a gift from a higher being."

"When we went in the cafeteria after our first class, "—Tai'chi inserted— "Was the reason you stopped advancing inside further, the sour and disgusting smell of the students in there?"

"Yes, actually— Wait, how did you know?" you asked.

How does he know??? Did he just smirk?

"I can smell them too."

"You can?!"

"Yes."

"So you mean to tell me, my nose functions similarly like yours?"

"Yes, perhaps, a little bit differently. Or maybe it's because you didn't hone it."

"How can you say so?"

"I can block out certain smells if I want to. And based on your reaction early on, you're having a hard time doing so, is that right?"

"W-Well, yes. You're right. Usually, I'd wear a mask with a basic filtration device, but that doesn't work when I'm inside a closed space and the scents are all mixed up and concentrated."

Tai'chi nodded in reply. He began to stand up and you were met with his towering form once again. You took a step back so you can put less strain on your neck from looking up.

"You still owe me an answer to a question by the way."

"Go on and ask then."

"So, uh, is it just me or when you told me about you...it kind of felt different from how talking to a friend sounds like..." You fidgeted, a certain heat slowly creeps up your face again as you looked around not wanting to meet his gaze. You felt your heart rate increase as you noticed his scent change, telling you you were right.

Tai'chi sighed heavily and rubbed his temples before gathering the courage to talk.

"Yes, it was different."

"So..."

"We use that kind of formality, usually towards someone we want to court."

Did he say 'court'?!

"C-Court??" you squeaked. Pretty sure your face is redder than the color of your brass knuckles, your heart hammering in your chest you believed he could hear it.

"Courting, or dating, or whatever everyone calls it down here." Breathing in deeply, he returned to kneel before you and took your hands into his, large palms caressing your small ones.

"I'll have to rephrase my words."

He locked his gaze into yours, deep blue eyes to your mahogany ones.

"Will you allow me to court you, Pearl Blackbell?"

"W-Why would you want to court me?"

The hell would someone want to court me? I'm seen as a freak by most people and I'm not soft or girly like the others. I don't like skirts or dresses. I hate makeup. I have calloused hands, scars hidden under my clothes. I don't understand —

He gave you a soft smile, cutting off your train of self-deprecating thoughts. "I can hear your mind, Pearl. Don't think low of yourself. You are amazing, y'know that? The first time I saw your eyes, and the moment you fought for my sake, I knew I was smitten. You are graceful, each motion fluid and filled with strength, people would never expect you possess until they feel it through a punch you throw. You are kind, righteous, beautiful, strong, with a heart of gold. It is a shame how most people do not see it. I want to prove myself to you, and win your heart properly."

You were about to pass out from his confession when you remembered you need to respond! Gathering what courage and energy you have left, you answered.

"I...Oh my God... I don't know what to say— I've never experienced this, ever! I'm afraid I won't know what to do- what if I mess up? What if I—"

"Listen, liga ni..." He cut you off as he rubbed circles on your hands, that small shift of language sent his voice into a guttural one. "This is also a first for me, and I share your fears in this. But my wish to pursue you remains unwavered. I will try my best to woo you, and if I do something you didn't like, it is up to you to end the courting, any time you want, and I will stop immediately. I hope we would stay friends if it comes that..." He said as he broke eye contact and looked down.

"Tai'chi..." Seeing him sad like this made your chest twist in discomfort.

Steadying yourself, you studied him, his scent was pure, no malice within his words, he was speaking from his heart. With renewed confidence, you finally decided.

"Tai'chi Kashharzol...I wish to court you as well."

He snapped up his gaze back to you and saw you smile. He scented you just to make sure you weren't doing this out of pity. The moment he realized it was genuine he lifted you in the air and spun you around. You were surprised at the sudden outburst but laughed together with him once you got over it. He set you down after a while and moved his face close to yours but halted immediately when he saw your eyes widen.

"Too forward?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah." Your heart was doing backflips, even if that sounds so ridiculous.

He understood. "I apologize, I got carried away." But before he pulled back you pressed a quick kiss on his forehead. He almost purred from the gesture but suppressed it as not to scare you in any way. You were new to this after all. He cleared his throat and reached out a hand to you.

"We should head back, our class will start soon."

"O-okay." You moved to wear your mask again before taking his hand, enjoying the rest of the walk in silence. You were still nervous, but you decided to focus on the now.

I've never felt like this before... Is it a good thing? I think it is.

And with that on your mind, you let yourself relax.

*

A pair of cruel eyes witnessed the whole exchange, remaining unnoticed as he hid behind a tree, a good distance from where you stood. They watched you and the orc walk away before they went the other direction.

"She will be fun to break. A female, human Blackbell, tempting. This will be a great chance to demonstrate and prove how monstrous an orc could be." They snickered. "I will enjoy this, exceptionally."

"In time, Pearl. In time."

****************************************

Now now who is this suspicious person?!

Liga ni — means 'little one' (as an endearment) in Orcish

Tags: @crackinanutshell @kokokatsworld @mitchiesdungeon

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 9: Reminders of Tragedy

"Hey, Jane!"

"Hey, Ingrid! How is my favorite person in the world?"

Jane's girlfriend of a good 9 years now happily walked over and kissed her on the cheek, beaming as she always seemed to do whenever she looked at her lover.

"Amazing now that you're here. Hey, you wanna go to that party Randy's having at his house tomorrow?"

"He's having a party? I didn't figure him the partying type."

"Despite the whole business parents thing, he is a real party animal. Hey, you know what's weird about the party?"

"What is?"

"He invited that Jeff guy there..y'know, that creep with the Conduct Disorder?"

She gestured to the tall, dark clothed young adult that sat alone at a lunch table nearby, playing with a switchblade.

"Hey, I remember him being pretty nice.."

"Remember him? You two date at some point?"

"We did, actually, wayyyy back."

Jane smirked when she saw the look of surprise and pride on Ingrid's face when she realized she guessed right.

"What was he like?"

"He was a sweetheart. Cheesy, but a sweetheart. Hell, even cheesier than me."

"Jane, you've carved our names into multiple trees. There's no out-cheesing that."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how we met, either. My dad was out mowing the lawn, and he accidentally ran over a rock and it hit Jeff in the head."

"Oof, that sounds bad.."

"I visited him in the hospital with my parents one time, and I will never forget what he said to me as a pick-up line."

"What did he say?"

Jane cleared her throat, before trying her darndest to do an impression of a young Jeff.

"Did you come from heaven? Because you look like an angel!"

Ingrid couldn't help but let out a giggle as she quickly pulled Jane into her arms.

"Aww, that sounds so cute!"

"It was!"

Jeff himself was hearing this conversation from afar, the little tricks he played with his knife not an adequate distraction from the constant reminder of what could've been.

"I don't think he handled our breakup too well..nobody really wanted to treat him as anything other than a freak after his diagnosis went public. One time, I heard him ranting to his brother about how it was hypocritical of the school to do a health topic on depression when they wouldn't stop judging him for his CD."

"Sheesh, it sounds like he's been through a lot..poor kid could use a friend."

"It doesn't really look like he wants any. Liu isn't sitting with him..that's weird, Liu always sits with him."

"Prolly had an argument or something, you know siblings."

"Yeah.."

The day continued without incident, Jeffrey getting home at the same time as usual..yet his mind was not thinking about the party, or school, he was thinking about Jane and Ingrid. Why was Jane so special that she had everything she wanted in life and not him? What crime did he commit that landed him with absent parents, demonization from his peers, and a fucking smile cut into his face? That love, that relationship they had..Jeff came to the conclusion that it was something to be destroyed.

Liu, meanwhile, was..struggling with something. Something he never expected would be a problem in his life. Lately, he began having these thoughts..these violent, awful, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be begging to be spoken aloud, the actions they describe seeming to grow more and more appealing as time passed.

Kill Randy.

Maim Keith.

Skin Troy like the cattle he is.

Maybe if he gave the thoughts an identity, they'd be easier to handle, he thought as he thought of a name for these urges..one stood out from the others. Not at all goofy, but not as laughably edgy as the other options.

Chapter 10: Enter Sully

Liu ended up speaking to Sully for the entire night..and even into the morning. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he could already hear Liu downstairs talking with..someone.

"It's sad, really..so concerned about themselves..no time spared for you."

"I-I guess..but they've got more important things to worry about.."

"Child, they do not have a thought in them about you. They're all self centered egomaniacs that would rather get pushed around by a genetic failure of a human rather than do anything about their situation!"

"That's not true, Sully! You're lying!"

A horrible growl soon came from the room.

"We are friends, child! Friends do not lie to each other, do they?"

"I..I guess not..goodbye for now, Sully."

"Where are you going?"

"I..I need some time to think."

Liu got back up, jumping from fear when he saw his brother staring at him.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You scared me!"

"I bet."

Awkward silence soon filled the dining room where they stood.

"Hey, Jeff...?"

"What?"

"I'm..sorry about punching you, and saying all that shit about you. I shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The elder brother turned around and began walking back up to his room, but not before his brother called out to him.

"Hey..is there any way I could make things up between us?"

"You could make things up by not betraying my trust again. You're all I've got, Liu..don't pull a Jane and fuck it up for me."

Liu always did question that grudge Jeff held for his ex, after all, he chatted with her in the past, and it always seemed like she genuinely enjoyed what her and Jeff had, and she always felt bad for leaving him like that. Hell, it sounded like it was as painful for her to leave him as it was for him to find out that his girlfriend left him. He was tempted to point that out, but he feared ruining things with his brother again.

"Alright.."

Chapter 11: A Hell of A Party

When Jane and Ingrid rounded the corner home, they found..a disturbing sight. A dead raccoon laying in the middle of the street, it's guts ripped out of it's body and thrown aside, Jeff gleefully pawing through the freshly murdered animal, childishly gawking and giggling over the corpse.

"Hey, Jeffrey! What happened here, what the fuck did you do?!"

Ingrid cried out to the blood-soaked kid, who looked up at her, confusion riddling his bloodied face.

"I killed a raccoon. It's not like anyone's gonna miss it."

"Why, you little-"

Ingrid slapped Jeffrey right across the face, knocking him to the ground as Jane held her girlfriend back and tried to keep the situation from escalating any further.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"You killed a helpless animal, you freak!!"

"I oughta kill you next, you piece of-"

Woods choked on his own spittle as he made his threat, never having been particularly..elegant with his words.

"Oh, really?! I'll kick your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"I swear to God, I'll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!!"

When Jeff reached for his switchblade, Jane panicked and grabbed her lover's hand, running off with her as Woods continued to scream at them.

"Your last words better be some Mark Twain shit, because it's going on your tombstone!! You hear me?!"

That experience was all on Jane's mind as she watched Jeff steadily get more and more wasted by the bonfire outside as time went on, at least, what glimpses she could catch of him when she wasn't busy dancing with the other students. Randy was also outside, reluctantly playing Truth Or Dare with the others as well as his increasingly hot and bothered enemy.

"Ok, Jeff!"

"Whaddup, baby?~"

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, hit me with the worst ya got!"

"Slow dance with Randy."

"What the-no! I'm straight as a arrow, dude!"

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet~"

"Jeff, never say that again."

"C'mooooon, do the dare, ya pussy~ I don't bite!~"

Woods took his time getting up, but still had enough cognitive function to put on Grover Washington Jr's "Just The Two Of Us", to try and improve the mood, but Randy still wasn't having any of it. In a last ditch effort to try and seduce Randy, Jeffrey just..up and took his shirt off. That'll get things going, right? No, it didn't. Despite some swooning from some of his classmates, Randy himself didn't want any part of this. He was a few drinks deep as well, so in a drunken haze, he grabbed one of the bottles of booze they had, took a running start, and smashed it right over Jeff's head. The problem with that is that they were only a couple feet away from a bonfire, so when Jeff stumbled backward, he fell right into it, the alcohol on his exposed flesh quickly igniting. He quickly burst into flames, screaming and running off as the fire quickly seared his body, every remaining nerve ending he had that wasn't burnt away shocking his body with waves of pain. He could feel his scalp burning up once his hair was scorched away, finally finding solace in a nearby puddle that put out the flames. Jeff could see his life flashing before his eyes..his family, his brother..that was all he could see. As Randy and the other students' screams of horror faded away, Woods silently cursed himself for not doing anything more with his life..a single bloody tear rolled down his face as he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time.

Chapter 12: The End Of The Beginning

Suddenly..he was in some sort of void. The ground beneath him was black as pitch, and footsteps began to grow ever closer to him. When Jeff looked to see who was approaching, he found no earthly being waiting for his attention. When he laid his eyes on whatever approached, the previously totally dark void began to turn a sickly red. What stood before him was a monster unlike any other, an otherwordly monster many believed to be a mere tall tale.

HE COMES.

[rox-the-proxy]

Of Secrets and Dragons

Dimivain hell? Yes please. This is basically a AU a friend andni came up with. It's based off of the idea that the goddess gifted certain family lines the ability to turn into dragons should all of Fodlan ever need protection. So, we have Beast/Dragon Form Claude, Edelgard and Dimitri. Hope you guys enjoy.

"It is said that on the Goddess's last visit here with normal man, she gifted three bloodlines a very unique ability. It was almost as if it was a parting gift. She gifted three of these Bloodlines the blood of dragons. At first, none of them understood why or what the purpose was. It was until they had children of their own did they understand. With the blood of different dragons running through their vines, their children could take the form of that particular species.

"One could take the form of a mighty Forest Wyvern. Swift as the wind, agile like no other. Its said a single drop of the blood of its blood on farm lands could rejuvenate the soil, bringing about plentiful crops or bringing plant life back to a area that has been long dead. This particular form now runs in the viens of the Riegan bloodline of the Leicester Alliance. Currently its said that the next Sovereign Duke; Claude Von Riegan now wields the ability to turn into this deadly, but elegant, life giving creature."

"The next, a hulking dragon that screamed power and Pride. This large winged creature is said to wield fire itself, being able to envelop itself in it's own flames to create light or even a form of protection. Its said this dragon can bring the end of harsh, ever lasting winters while being able to being pleasant summer days. This form of dragon is said to belong to the Imperial Princess; Edelgard von Hresvelg."

"And finally, There was the final dragon. This one, Flightless, wingless. But that alone did not mean it wasnt as strong and dangerous. This dragon, a drake, was a four legged dragon. A well muscled body, but somehow lean and quick. Powerful and struck a cold fear in those who stood in it's way. Its said this beast could bring about bitter cold and blizzards to fields when enraged. Or bountiful rain to areas who were suffering from a smoldering drought. As of now, it was said that this dragon form ran in the vines of the Blaiddyd family of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. However, as of now, its said that the crown Prince; Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd does not have this dragon form. Many suspect this form was lost long before the rule of Lambert, the previous King of the Holy Kingdom."

There was a long pause of silence in the Blue Lion class room as they sat there, listening to the rare and seemingly odd lecture of the day they were getting from Lady Rhea herself. She rarely ever left the first floor and she definitely wasnt one to teach a class. She was the Archbishop after all, she typically had far more important things to do verses actually teach a class. But they had been expecting this to happen. The Golden Deer house and the Black Eagle House had already received this same lecture from her. None of them knew why they were suddenly receiving this lesson or why she was even talking about it. Yes, strange things had been happening around the Monastery as of late, but in a way, some of the students were starting to think that maybe Rhea was in a way letting the house leaders know that maybe it was time to start using their dragon forms to send a message.

But as the Archbishop had stated, Dimitri was the only one out of the three who couldn't take the dragon form he was supposed to be able to take. Or at least that's what many believed. The class gave Rhea their thanks for her lesson she had given before watching her depart, once she was gone it was painfully obvious bow they all relaxed and sighed. Some, namely Sylvain, had slumped forward onto the dark wood desk, Felix to his left pinching the bridge of his nose. "Man, talk about throwing more of the churches issues onto the future King, Emperor and Sovereign Duke." Sylvain said, sitting back up and looking over at their future King who was looking down at the notes he had sitting in front of him. He was sure the blonde didnt actually write down anything important, but he did have to make it seem like he was Intrested in the topic. "Hey, dont look so worried your Highness." The redhead tried to reassure.

It was clear that he was nervous, on edge now. Dimitri was easy to read more or less when he got like this. Especially when it concerned that dragon of his. There was a reason why it slowly started to disappear in the family line. And that was because his family's particular form was high aggressive even if the king amdnor queen wasnt by nature. So, in reality only all of the Blue Lions knew why the Blaiddyd family had started using that form less and less as time passed. Sylvain huffed when he noticed that his words didnt seem to quite reach his blonde haired loved one. He stood up, walking over and kneeled down next to where the Prince was sitting. He reached up, his palm slid up the others cheek and his fingers tangled into the blonde colored locks, gently tugging. This got the younger male's attention, he turned his head to look at the red head, but frowned when Sylvain didnt remove his hand, only tugged again.

"Must you?" Dimitri asked, though it came out more like a whine verses a question. Sylvain only smiled, keeping his hand tangled in the golden locks, gently rubbing where he had tugged on the other's hair. "I'm fine, I just dont believe that its necessary for any of us to use those forms. Lady Rhea failed to mention those forms are used for emergency cases only. In which I mean the fate of all of Fódlan is at risk. Not because some people are questioning the Church." He himself wasnt a holy man, despite what his own kingdom was called. Never really believed in the goddess, much less took part in praying to her or any such things. His father was much the same way. Maybe that's why he turned out as he did. Not that he wasnt saying that the goddess didnt exist, he just didnt see a need to worship her so damn much. Especially when so many people have died thinking she would give them mercy and save them only for it to turn out otherwise. He sighed heavily, leaning into Sylvain's larger hand. "I'll need to speak with Edelgard and Claude about this when we all have some spare time."

"Work, work, work. That's all it is with you." Sylvain teased as he stood up, removing his hand from Dimitri's hair and sitting on the end of the table, soon enough the rest of the blue Lions soon gathered around their prince at the table he was sitting at. "But on a serious note, are you going to warn them about this? Or are you going to tell them?"

"They dont need to know," Felix interjected with his usual sharp tone, his arms crossed over his chest. "There had never been a need for them to know so I dont see a reason for them to know now. It's not like all of Fódlan is on the verge of collapse. I say leave them be. Dont go doing something stupid that you'll regret. I'm sure the other house leaders are smart enough to know what Rhea is getting at."

Same typical Felix. Sylvain could only sigh as he shook his head. But his younger friend did have a point. Edelgard and Claude were smart, they probably already put two and two together to figure out that the Archbishop was in a way, pressuring them into taking those forms when the church asked them to. Sylvain couldnt help but feel glad that Dimitri's family had started using that uncontrollable form of theirs less and less. Hell, he was sure not even Lord Rodrigue recalled how that dragon form of the Blaiddyd family looked like. Still, it was a bit of a bad thing that the family had no control over the dragon form. No one could ever really figure out why, many assumed maybe the goddess made it that way for a reason. But what reason could that be? Either way, it was a mystery and would probably remain that way for a while. The red head only was pulled from his thoughts when he felt Dimitri lay his head on his thigh.

A small smile graced his features, especially when Felix, even if it was out of character for him, reached out to place a comforting hand on his back. They cared for him, he was their friend after all and they had sworn to keep him safe after the Tragedy of Duscur and after the Rebellion. Dimitri had no control over himself when that rebellion took place west of their kingdom. It had been a forced transformation and no one who was there spoke of it to anyone else out of respect for the late King and for the respect and love they had for their Prince. "Its okay, things will work out." Sylvain assured him as he ran his fingers through the Blonde's hair gently. "Like you said, those forms are for when Fódlan is on the brink of collapse right? And yeah sure there have been a few strange things here and there but nothing to suggest Fódlan is in that much trouble or need of help."

"As much as I loath to agree with him," Felix started, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest. He easily ignored the shouted and offended shout of 'hey!' From his red headed friend. "He has a point, Boar. Right now things are fine. So realx." Despite his harsh tone and the glare on his face, anyone who knew Felix well enough knew he was saying it truly to help Dimitri relax and calm down. Felix raised a brow when the blonde turned his head to look up at him. With Dimitri laying his head on their older friend's thigh, one could tell he was tried. The prince was allowing himself to look Vulnerable, and Felix felt his blood boil at the mere idea of anyone else from the other houses walking in and seeing him like this. "Get up, goddess forbid anyone else sees you looking this pathetic." He snapped.

"Felix," Sylvain scolded lightly, keeping his hand on the back of Dimitri's head. There wasn't any actual pressure there keeping the Prince's head down, but it was Sylvain letting him know that he didnt have to move despite Felix's words. He could never really actually put heat behind his words when it came to Felix or Dimitri. He supposed they were his soft spots, he could never scold Ingrid because well she never really acted out of line. Unless it was with Dedue but the Duscur man handled that well on his own.

"Your too soft with him. Hes a boar, a beast, an animal. He doesnt need to be coddled." He snapped again, glaring at the older male. Honestly he knew Sylvain coddle him and Dimitri a lot, he was just like that even when they were kids. But they weren't kids anymore. Dimitri would be king soon, and with it a whole kingdom full of problems he would need to learn how to handle. Neither he or Sylvain would always be there, there would be times where he wouldn't see either of them for months. Sylvain couldnt keep coddling him like this, making the empty and stupid promise he would always be there at his side. "Get up and come spar with me. And try to control yourself I can already feel a cold chill in the air and we're in the middle of summer."

"Ah, My Apologies I didnt realize-"

"Of course you didnt. Just shut up and let's go."

Sylvain sighed heavily, he was disappointed that the Prince lifted his head from his lap but he knew there wasnt talking him out of it. At least sparring with Felix would keep his mind from thinking about the lecture they just got from Rhea. Though Felix had been right, even he could feel the slight bite of cold in the air, Dimitri always seemed to have trouble controlling his own abilities aside from his strength. It made sense that this was the reason why he shoved down whatever he was feeling when it came to the Duscur Tragedy and the Rebellion as well. Both incidents always caused Dimitri to have a flurry of different emotions and with thaoe emotions came harsh and sudden blizzards. Faerghus had experienced it once already, the Monastery did not need to. Still, there had to be more to Rhea's lecture. A few incidents couldnt cause something like this to come about, right? No it wouldnt make much sense. There was more that she knew that she wasnt telling the students. But that didnt mean that the Professors didnt know. Which meant their Professor knew as well, a soft hum escaped the red head as he thought about this. Could he and would he be able to get any information out of him? If nothing else, their professor was tight lipped about certain things if not just completely unaware.

"Sylvain, are you alright?" It was Mercedes's soft, gentle, and caring tone that brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up at her and gave her a small smile.

"Yeah, of course! Just thinking is all. Ah but it warms my heart to know that such a beautiful-"

"Sylvain," came Ingrid's warning, effectively cutting him off from one of his usual tangents.

Sylvain for his part only laughed, rubbing the back of his neck before allowing himself to listen to the chatter of his group of friends. He supposed things would he fine, maybe everyone was just over thinking things.

That would turn out to not be the case five years later.

When Edelgard declared war, when their Professor went missing and when they received news of Dimitri's execution it was like the world came crashing down all around them and there was nothing they could do to stop it. No matter how hard they had tried. He didnt think there was much rhyme or reason to return to the Monastery like they had all promised to do, after all, their king dead, their professor probably also dead. What reason would they have to go back? Still, he gathered Ingrid and Felix up, making the long and dangerous trip to what was once a second home to them all. However what gave the red head a sliver of hope was the striking cold in the air, the frozen bodies, the snow and ice that covered parts of the walls and land.

When they finally found him with their professor, this Dimitri was nothing like the one from so many years ago. This Dimitri was cold, harsh, bloodthirsty and thought only of killing Edelgard. For a long while, Sylvain didnt think there would be much hope for him. Whatever darkness that had a hold of him had finally been able to drag him down into its depths and it was like Dimitri wasnt even trying to fight it. Whenever they went, the harsh, biting cold followed. Wherever they went, snow fell, the battles the fought enemy soldiers ended up with icicle spears through them, other begging for mercy as Dimitri held their head in his hand. Quick and painless death was a rare thing from Dimitri. Sylvain had little to no hope of ever seeing the soft, gentle and shy Dimitri he once knew again. Felix had even tried to get through to him. But even that didnt seem to work. It took Rodrigue's death and nearly his own for Dimitri to finally snap out of it.

When he did, he gave them all such a heartfelt apology. Swearing he would make it up to them And atone for his mistakes, things had started going a lot better after that. The cold that followed their army faded away, Dimitri would actually show up to the war council and even training as well. He would even join them to eat dinner together. Though there were times when he would still distance himself from the group. At first Sylvain didnt understand why, but when he found him late one evening, patrolling the Monastery grounds in the Dragon form he had no control over previously. He felt a swell of pride and joy for their future king he couldn't stop himself from walking up to him. He looked...stunning in this form. He stood taller then a horse, his scales a beautiful mix and light and dark blue. Black colored Horns that grew up and slightly back from his head. In this form Sylvain could see the scars that littered his body, and it was countless, some overlapping each other, some small, others large. Though if he had to pick out which one was the worse one in his opinion-

It would be the one that took his eye. Not that Sylvain was bothered by the horrible scarring, not in the least bit. They all had their fair share of scars thanks to this war and even past battles. But when he saw the scars that just seemed to over take Dimitri's body, he couldn't help but feel his blood boil. Only because he knew a good amount of those scars were caused by his time imprisoned in the Capital under the pretenses that he had murdered his uncle. His eye had been lost during his escape from what Dimitri had implied. He never went into much detail about that day. No one could blame him. As Sylvain stood there next to the hulking creature that was his friend, he could tell Dimitri was tense. It was sad, seeing him so tense and always seeing to be walking on eggshells around not only him, but everyone. As if fearful of doing or saying the wrong thing. Dimitri used to be so confident, or at least he came off as confident. These days he doubted himself a lot, making it hard for him to see that he was indeed making the right decision. Even as Sylvain reached up and held the other's face between his hands.

It was odd, the feeling of cold scals under his hands. Considering he had only ever had been in his human form. Both remained silent, Sylvain gently holding Dimitri's head in his hands, thumbs stoking along his jawline. The touch seemed to have calmed him down, considering his remaining eye was closed in content, deep rumbles coming from him which he supposed were the dragon version of a purr. If that was even possible. The red head pushed that thought aside, there was a time and place for such joking things, right now wasnt the time nor the place. Right now, he was enjoying this moment of peace.

"Look at you. Never once did I think I would ever get to see you like this." Sylvain mumbled, pressing his head to the other's head. He shivered at how cold the other felt in this form but goddess it felt so pleasant. "Honestly it suits you. But I'd like to see you now. If that's okay?" Had he asked this from the blonde so many hours ago, he would have been met with a snarling growl and a harsh 'no'. But right now the got a soft, long exhale of breath before he pulled his head away from his gloved and armored hands. He watched as the King shifted from that dragon form back into the human form he had grown accustomed to seeing. Like this, Sylvain felt much better seeing. He looked more vulnerable, more...him. which in a way made sense, in his dragon form it was hard to tell how he was feeling, there was always an air of being on edge and ready for anything like that. Or at least that had been how Hilda explained it whenever Claude was in his Wyvern form. Sylvain smiled, reaching up to cup the other's face between his hands. Dimitri's flinch did not go unnoticed, but he kept his movements slow and steady, making sure to not startle the other so much.

It broke his heart every single time he saw Dimitri flinch away from what would be a friendly touch. It was sading to see how a simple pat on the shoulder or back was like the best type of touch hes ever gotten. How long had he gone only knowing harmful and malicious touch? Had it been since the death of his uncle? Since his imprisonment? Goddess only knew. Sylvain smiled when Dimitri leaned into his hands, his remaining eye closed. He noticed though how his hands seemed to hover awkwardly, like he didnt know what to do with them, as if he feared to touch anyone. "Its okay," he assured the King. He felt Dimitri stiffen for a moment before his reached up, placing his hands over Sylvain's. It took a long time for them to reach this point, before Dimitri wouldnt even allow anyone to touch him. Not even Sylvain who had never once ever dreamed of hurting him. But goddess it felt good to be at this point, there was a feeling of shock that washed over him when he felt the blonde lean against him, so much so that his head was resting against the crook of his shoulder and neck. "There you are, it's good to see you."

Dimitri hummed softly, the blonde moving his arms to wrap them around the other, pulling him close. He missed this, he missed Sylvain. He didnt think something like this would ever be possible. Especially after everything he had done, the lives he had taken so mercilessly. He wouldn't have blamed the older male if he had decided to never stand by him ever again. He wouldn't have blamed him if he had sided with the Empire and told the secret that yes, he did indeed have a dragon form. But he didnt do that, no Sylvain stayed by him, had tried time and time again to snap him our of his own madness. Even when he threatened them all, Sylvain never once held it against him. He didn't quite understand why he didn't, why he had been so forgiving of his horrendous behavior, but he was. Dimitri these days knew it was best not to question the good things that were given to him even if he found himself tempted to question it constantly. "Why are you not in bed? We have a long March ahead of us tomorrow, you should be resting." Dimitri didn't need to see the other rolling his eyes at his words he could practically feel it.

"And let you wander about like a guard dog alone when you need just as much rest as the rest of us? No way, come on, Dima. Let's get you to bed." Dimitri chuckled, leave it to Sylvain to pull something like this. He didnt fight the other when he pulled away, slipping his hand Into his own and leading him back to their old dormitories. Dimitri couldn't recall ever actually stepping foot into his old room, and now that he might he felt himself grow extremely nervous. Sylvain must have noticed because as they walked and arrived at the second floor of the dorms, he bypassed the King's room entirely and entered his own. Obviously since coming back the red head took the time to clean the room out, make more suitable for him now verses back when they were young, innocent and still had delusional ideas about how they would change the world for the better. How foolish had Dimitri been back then. At least Sylvain had always been a bit more cynical then him, knew the world wasnt always as good as it seemed. Not everyone had good in them like Dimitri wished to believe. By the time Dimitri turned back into the world around him, the red head had already gotten out of his own armor and had gotten his entire chest plate off. "How often does that happen?"

For a moment, Dimitri found himself lost and unsure of what Sylvain was speaking of, but it came to him rather quickly. The zoning out, the disassociation as Mercedes called it. Compared to just a few weeks ago, it didnt happen as often as it used to, but it would still occur from time to time. On those days it was like he was watching the day pass through someone else's eyes. He found himself forgetting to eat, forgetting to sleep. Basic human function became extremely hard to do, this often lead to someone needing to be with him at all times for the rest of that day or for however long the disassociative episode lasted. "More often then I would like to admit." It wasn't a good answer, not good news by any means, but was a truthful response. He watched as Sylvain nodded, working on removing the dark colored armor he insisted on wearing. Even when Gilbert gave him the Blaiddyd armor he refused to put it on just yet.

Sylvain nodded, there was a glint of sadness and guilt in his eyes. As the blonde's friend and the oldest of their group of four he had failed when it came to looking out for all three of them. He ended up being someone Ingrid had to constantly trail behind to make sure he stayed out of trouble. Even Dimitri would pull him aside and scold him. Felix didnt even try but sure as hell made it known he wasnt happy with his behavior. At the end, they all only did that for one reason only; to make sure nothing bad happend to him. Because in their minds, loosing him would be just as bad as losing Glenn. It was touching to know he meant that much to them. But it was also sad to see that the trauma of losing Glenn had affected them all so much they felt as if they needed to do more then necessary to make sure he was going to be just fine. When he finally managed to get he other out of the armor and in clothing much more comfortable to be in, he guided the king to lay down flag on his stomach. He could tell the younger male was tense, worried about what he was planning. "Relax, its okay. Your safe here." There was more meaning to his words. Dimitri wasnt only physically safe here, his secrets, his doubts, his fears all of it was safe here. Sylvain was never one to go around speaking of the insecurities and tightly guarded secrets others trusted him with. "The empire still doesnt know about your dragon form, I'm going to assume none of the others know as well if only because they think you cant control it." He watched as the blonde turned his head to side, somewhat looking at him with his remaining eye. "I think we should keep it that way for a while. A sort of...ace in the hole."

"Would it not be better to reveal it sooner rather than later?" Sylvain could see where that would be the best idea, but he also knew that having something like that as a secret and only using it as a last ditch effort would serve them as an advantage. Plus if Edelgard caught wind that he did have a dragon form after all, she would know exactly how to kill him, it wouldnt he a problem for her. It would give her the necessary time to figure it out if she didnt know.

"The less the Empire knows about us in general, the better, Dima." The red head said simply as he gently started to massage the others back and shoulders. The king was tense, wincing whenever his hands seemed to press and knead into a particularly sore and tender spot. Dimitri didnt seem to have a response for what he said, after all he did have a point. The less Edelgard knew, the easier it would be for them all to do what they needed to do in order to stop her. "But for now, let's worry more about how tightly wound your muscles are. It's no wonder you're always stiff like a statue."

If nothing else, it was always easier to be in Sylvain's company compared to the company of anyone else. That is not to say that Dimitri didnt care for the others, because by the goddess he did. He would tear down all of Fódlan if it meant he could keep them all safe and alive. But with Sylvain, with this flamboyant, smooth talking red head, it was different. Perhaps it was due to the fact that with him, doing anything had always been easier. He ould always be more emotional around him, physical touch wasnt as a much a fear as it had been with anyone else. Sylvain even encouraged it, often times locking their arms together, throwing his arm over his shoulders and dragging to wherever he pleased or even always putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. On rare occasions, a friendly but gentle pat on the head as well. Dimitri would refuse to admit to anyone that those pats on the head had been his favorite. Maybe that's why letting him do this, rub out the tension in his body was so easy for him, letting the other's gentle hands run up and down his back, carefully kneading. When the older male hit a particularly sore spot, the one eyed male hissed, arching away from his touch. Dimitri could name every single spot on his body that was far more tender and tense then anywhere else. It was how hebhad been living for the past five years since his escape from Fhirdiad.

"Shh, shh. Easy I know hurts right now but it will get better." Sylvain was quick to comfort, quick to lighten his touch on that spot just under and along his left shoulder blade. He had a feeling he knew what brought the tension on in the muscles in this particular area. If nothing else, Dimitri was a master with a Lance, but he wasnt thebobly one who had exceptional skill in the use of this type of particular weapon. He had encounter plenty of other Lance users and he had used Areadbhar many times in battle. Often times, he watched his King push himself far past limits he knew better then to cross. But did so anyway, which lead to torn muscles, and soreness in his shoulders more often than not. And if seemed like this time would be a case of exactly that. It felt like hours had passed before Sylvain seemed to have finally gotten the muscles in Dimitri's back to relax. When he moved to lay next to the king he paused and smiled at the sight of the king peacefully asleep.

When had he even drifted off? He wasnt sure, but he was happy to see that the man still trusted him enough to even fall asleep around him. As he laid there, watching the man in slumber, is when he started to notice small things, such as that even covered in warm, fur blankets, Dimitri's skin was cold to the touch. If one looked closely enough when he was awake, one could see the faint Cerulean glow his eye had. Even his teeth seemed sharper as well, all attributes and traits that he got as he got older thanks to the dragon form that ran through his family's blood. For now, the others didnt need to know about his control over his beast form, not yet. It could be a secret between him and his king. For now, Dimitri could rest.

For tomorrow, it was back to war, back into the fighting.

[riyuu-bsd]

Catch me When I Fall [Osamu Dazai x Reader]

"Catch me when I fall, okay, D-Dazai-Kun?" the girl said, smiling shyly.

"Sure thing, (L/n)-Chan," the brunette chimed, holding his arms out expectantly.

The girl blushed, looking up at him.

How could he have forgotten?

Her shy nature prevented her from being upfront with what she wanted, everything having to be explained to the detail or she would brush it off as her being silly, and remind herself to follow the plan as best she could.

Which meant she probably wouldn't have just initiated a trust fall.

"Catch me, (Y/n)~" he grinned, falling back to break away from the awkwardness of the previous situation. Fussing slightly, she held out her arms the way he had, catching him as he fell. He smiled, looking up at her from her hold. She gave a small smile in return, face tinted pink. He lifted himself back up, standing up straight. The smile remained on his face as he leaned down to her level, placing his finger on her nose and adding a small "boop". Her face flushed bright red, quickly hidden by her hands. He let out a small chuckle.

"D-Dazai-Kun..!" she blushed, peeking between her fingers, "D-don't laugh at me..!"

"Sorry, (L/n), you're just too cute," he flirted, only sending her further into embarassment.

.

Those were the better days.

When they were happy.

When she was there.

When his life had meaning.

But he disappeared without a trace, a note left at his bedside the only evidence she had that he ever even happened.

.

The soft knock at the door was left unanswered, the (h/c)ette cautious to knock any louder and be a disruption.

"D-Dazai-Kun?" she called up meekly, the window not flung open by her close friend.

She began to worry, knocking slightly louder.

The choking grasp of anxiety gripped at her throat, the girl afraid to be a bother.

A concoction of anxiety and concern kicked in, the fragile substitute for adrenaline ushering for her to open the door, to check on him, to make sure he was safe.

She was well aware of his habits, knowledgeable of why there were so many scars littering his body. No matter how many times she urged him to stop, they kept appearing.

Until one day when he threw away the razor, grabbing her hand boldly.

"Better, (L/n)-Chan? I'll stop with that, and I'll make sure that I won't do it again, just for my best friend."

The words stuck with her. He had stopped because she was his reason to hope for a better tomorrow. That wasn't something that she would let go of so easily.

"Osamu?!" she called, opening the door and running up to his room.

She flung open his door, bursting in.

He wasn't there.

On the bedside table there was a note, adressed to her in his somewhat scribbly handwriting.

Dear (Y/n),

Hey. It's me, Osamu. I know you'll be mad, but trust me, it's for the best. I'll see you again, don't worry. I just feel like there's more out there. So I'm going. Going to Yokohama, you always said you loved it there. I won't go back to my old habits, trust me. When you're a detective there, maybe you can help me out a few times. I was planning to do this a few weeks ago, but it was your birthday, and I wasn't gonna pull a runner without celebrating with my best friend one more time. I couldn't run away and risk ruining a time when you should be happy. I couldn't. I can say any amount of insults to anyone, irritate someone until their skin crawls. And yet when it comes to you I can't bring myself to lift a finger. That's why I'm going, I'm going to be strong enough to protect you. Just don't forget me, okay? Remember me as Osamu Dazai, your best friend forever.

Xoxo, Dazai

Salty tears streamed down her face, her silent cries blurring out the rest of the world.

He was gone.

And so naturally.

It drove daggers through her heart, sent her anxiety into a flurry, sent her into a spiral of depression.

.

.

.

But that was all in the past, right?

.

.

.

Walking past the dark walls of Port Mafia Base, the (h/c)ette cowered slightly behind the short male guiding her.

"A-Are you sure I can help with this mission, Nakahara-San?" she stammered, clutching her notes to her chest tightly.

"The boss said to bring you here, but personally I'm not so sure," the executive said with a shrug, swinging the door open,

"Ah, (Y/n)-San," the cold, monotonous tone called, a gloved hand motionig for her to come closer, "This mission involves someone you're.. Personally connected with."

.

She bit her quivering lip, looking down at the file on her lap.

"As the top strategist of the Mafia, I'm sure this mission is no issue to you," Mori chuckled,

"I.." she choked, "..Of course, Mori-San.."

It came out a choked whisper, tears falling down her face as a few stray strands of (h/c) hair fell over her face.

"Magnificent, (Y/n)-San! You are excused, please take your leave."

She nodded, hiding her face behind her sleeve as she spared one last glance at the name printed on the file.

Dazai Osamu.

.

Walking through the streets of Yokohama, (Y/n) stopped all of a sudden, looking towards the well known armed detective agency.

The place Dazai now worked.

Her heart ached, desire to see him burning holes in her self restraint.

"But.." she whispered, "I'm his enemy now.. I work with the one person he hates most.."

Her words of doubt did nothing, years of pent up emotion driving her forward.

She gave in, dashing forward towards the building.

Not wanting to wait for the elevator, she ran up the stairs, breath heavy from the adrenaline and emotion building up inside of her. Tears had pooled in her eyes once more as she slammed her fists onto the dark, spruce desk of the agency,

"I have to speak with Osamu," she panted, desperate to hear his voice once more.

"Oh, Dazai-Kun? You just missed him, I think he was headed to-"

"Missed him?" she repeated, cutting off the freckled boy mid sentence as she began to grip at the desk.

"All these years.." she whispered, breath shaking through her tears, "All these years and I still can't find him."

The blonde who had attempted to help her looked at her with an expression of concern, stepping forward to console her until she turned on her heel, slumping out of the agency.

The orange glow of sunset glowed softly against her features, (e/c) eyes still misty with tears. She continued to sulk, gliding through the streets with her eyes glued to the pavement.

"All these years.." she whispered, "And I still can't forget my best friend.."

She was hoping to hear his voice, just behind or beside her, to finish the phrase.

But she never heard his "forever".

.

"Hey, Kenji-San, anything happen while I was out?" the brunette said, a small smile on his face as he stepped into the office,

"Oh! Dazai-Kun! Someone was looking for you earlier, she looked really upset when she heard you'd just left," the blonde recalled, face twisting into one of sympathy at the memory of her broken expression.

Part of him hoped, desperately, that it was a particular someone. But he knew it was stupid; how could someone be remembered from a single note.

"Hey Ranpo-Kun, how likely is it that someone could remember their childhood best friend from a note?" he called, tone strained slightly and face still a blank smile.

"It depends," the detective sighed, looking up from his console to meet the chocolate gaze of the ex-mafioso, "But I wouldn't think it's all that likely at all."

He sighed,

"Of course.." he whispered, running a hand through his hair as he sat down, no doubt piquing the interest of most of the agency.

"D-Dazai-San?" Atsushi began, concerned at what could possibly rattle his superior so much.

The man tapped his foot against the tile floor restlessly, grabbing a pen and scrawling down notes.

His subordinate looked on in confusion, trying to decipher the meaning of Dazai's scribbles.

Your best friend forever.

Four words.

Four words was almost all of what she was left with.

A pathetic excuse of a goodbye and the reminder he existed.

Even in the note, he couldn't muster the courage to tell her.

The girl he missed so much.

The girl he felt so much guilt for.

The girl who saved him countless times.

The girl he loved.

And he left just before she could find him.

"I'm going on a walk," he announced, turning and leaving.

.

.

"Why.." she whispered, pulling the small note out from her pocket.

I'll see you again.

I'll see you again.

I'll see you again.

I'll see you again.

Her eyes lingered over those words, the cold air brushing her hair behind her.

Leaning back against the barrier, she closed her eyes, tears falling down her face.

"Where are you, Osamu..?" she whispered, "Am I stupid to think you'd still remember me..?"

She heard the hitch of someones breathing, eyes opening as her gaze shot to the direction of the noise.

"..(Y-Y/n).." a voice whispered, before a tall, lean man stepped forward, brown hair blown to the side, half covering his eyes.

Her own eyes widened, she let out a small whimper,

"O-Osamu.." she whispered, jumping up and running towards him. The man stiffened under her touch, before melting into the hug she initiated. She wept against his coat, gripping tightly as though he would disappear at any moment.

"O-Osamu.. You're really here, right? It's really you i-isn't it?!" she cried, the taller man running a hand through her hair and nodding,

"It's me, (Y/n).." he cooed, caressing (h/c) tresses and holding onto her hand. She continued to cry, leaning her weight onto him.

"So, what brings you here?" he whispered, letting out a dry chuckle,

"I.."

She was working alongside his enemy, Chuuya Nakahara, in an attempt to kill him off.

"I can't.." she whispered, cuddling into him before breaking away.

"Can't what?" he asked, still holding her hand, "Please, (Y/n) talk to me, I won't leave you again,"

She let out a shaky exhale, tears still falling down her face,

"I'm working with the Port Mafia.." she whispered, "My current mission.. Involves you.."

"Oh."

Dazai held her close, her feeble resistance giving in to his hold.

"I'm sorry.." she breathed,

"It's okay, (Y/n), it's okay," he whispered, "I'll be here for you, I'll protect you, you'll be safe," he promised.

She gave a small nod, choking on words she couldn't muster.

"I'm sorry.." he cooed.

.

.

.

"Morning, (Y/n)," Dazai whispered as she cracked her eyes open,

"O-Osamu.." she breathed, holding him close and nestling herself as close to him as possible.

He smiled to himself, the walls of his apartment feeling complete and safe with her around.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/n).." he whispered, holding her close as he caressed her hair, the girl shaking her head against his chest,

"No.. I'm sorry.. I looked to the Mafia for protection.. I'm so sorry, Osamu.." she apologised, staying close to him.

"Don't be."

.

She felt whole.

Complete.

He was back, by her side.

So why did she feel the urge to disappear?

Sure, Osamu had changed.

But not too much.

He was still the same loveable person she knew as a child.

So what was different?

What had caused her to feel the choking strain of anxiety whenever she was with him?

What was it?

"Idiot.." she cursed to herself, "I know what it is.."

She sighed.

"I love him, don't I?"

.

.

.

.

.

"Why.." she whispered, "Why.."

"Why."

"Why."

"Why."

"Why."

"Why."

She repeated the word, stepping up onto the ledge of the building.

She leaned back, falling.

Tears began to start, regret kicking in moments too late.

She smiled through the inevitable pain, uttering her last words feebly.

"Catch me when I fall, Osamu-San."

[girlsinthestars]

I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown

Pairing: Enjolras/Grantaire

Word count: 2689

Warnings: None, it’s slightly angsty to begin with, but ends happily.

Read on AO3

Usually Enjolras’ taunts had no effect on Grantaire, usually he was able to laugh them off because he knew they were coming. But today was different. Today he was out of it, today he had received a letter informing him of his eviction, telling him to be out come evening, today he had lost his home and was, therefore, homeless, with all of his belongings stuffed into his backpack. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been heading towards this but he just never thought he’d hit this kind of rock bottom. So he didn’t bother arguing any of Enjolras’ points, he didn’t bother throwing out sarcastic comments, he didn’t bother being anything other than a shadow in the corner. He figured no one would notice but it was just his luck that Enjolras did, and of course Enjolras decided to call him out on it.

“What has gotten into you Grantaire? You haven’t said a word all afternoon.”

“I haven’t had anything to say, I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Of course I’m pleased, it’s just unlike you is all.” There was an odd tone of concern in Enjolras’ voice that was entirely out of place, of course Grantaire had heard it directed at others but never him.

“Well maybe I’ve given up.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

“Maybe I just don’t care anymore, about the cause, about your speeches, about proving you wrong, I mean does it even matter?”

The room fell silent, as if everyone was holding their breath to see Enjolras’ reaction.

Enjolras glared at him. “If that is the case, perhaps you should leave. At least when you were pointing out my errors you were serving a purpose, however frustrating.”

Grantaire could only nod in response, because Enjolras was right, as always, he barely serves a purpose here. A stiff silence had settled over the room, Enjolras glaring at Grantaire who could only stare at the floor.

“Well?” Enjolras demanded, seemingly frustrated with the silence, “if you’re going to leave then leave. You’re wasting all of our time, you’re wasting our space, you’re wasting our resources, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

“Enjolras!” Combeferre hissed.

A tremor passed through Grantaire as he let those words sink in. True as it was, he never thought Enjolras would have the guts to tell him to stop wasting their time, space and resources. He nodded slightly then stood shakily.

“I’ll be going then.” Then, without even grabbing his coat he stumbled out the door into the snow.

It was cold outside, and quiet. And, god, so empty. Grantaire walked blindly in, hopefully, the direction of a motel of some description, somewhere warm at least. God, why hadn’t he fought Enjolras, why had he just got up and left? And since when had Enjolras started getting to him? He knew he was a waste of space, god forbid someone should let him forget it, so why had Enjolras saying it hurt so much? Was he really so delusional that he thought Enjolras returned his feelings on any level at all?

He had only gone a mile or so when he realised all his money was in the bag he had left in the Musain. Going back was not an option. There was no way he could face them right now. He sighed and dropped onto a bench, figuring this would be his life from now on, he curled up and made himself as warm as he could before closing his eyes and begging for sleep.

That was where Eponine found him an hour later.

“Jesus Christ R, what are you doing, it’s freezing out here you left your bag, and more importantly your coat!”

“‘Ponine? What are you doing here?” Grantaire asked blearily.

“Looking for you, you idiot! I went to your apartment after the meeting to make sure you were okay but you weren’t there.”

“Oh yeah,” He said, sitting up and brushing the snow off his sleeve, realising, as he came into consciousness, that his limbs had gone numb with cold in the time he’d been asleep, “got kicked out.”

“So you decided you’d sleep on a fucking bench?!”

“Didn’t wanna be a burden to anyone.”

“Is this about what Enjolras said? Because you know he didn’t mean it R, he was frustrated and hurt.”

“He was hurt?” Grantaire snorted, “What did he have to be hurt about?”

“By god you’re oblivious,” Eponine said, sitting down next to him and taking one of his hands, gently massaging feeling and warmth back into it, “he cares about you, he cares about your opinion. He was hurt because you said you didn’t care about him anymore.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you said you didn’t care about the cause or his speeches, which is even worse because those are everything to him R, he spends all his time planning and thinking about them.”

Grantaire was silent.

“I think there’s a communication issue happening here and I think you two need to spend some quality time together so-”

“No.” Grantaire interrupted, “whatever you’re about to say, no.”

“-So, I’m volunteering his apartment as the place you stay until you find a new apartment.”

“No.”

“R you have to.”

“He wouldn’t agree.”

“Except he already has.” Eponine said, gleefully waving her phone at him.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I found you freezing to death on a bench and you need a place to stay.”

“And I can’t stay with you because…”

“I don’t have any space, Cosette and Marius moved in.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to live with you three anyway.”

“I’ll have you know, we are very cute.”

Grantaire sighed and smiled slightly. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Now it’s your turn.” She replied, smiling back.

Eponine escorted Grantaire to Enjolras’, saying she didn’t want him to chicken out and end up on another bench. Enjolras was a wreck when he opened the door. Grantaire felt almost uncomfortable seeing the usually so well put together leader so dishevelled.

“Fuck, R, I was so worried about you.”

Grantaire let out a strained laugh. “The mighty Apollo need not worry for any mere mortal.”

“This isn’t a joke.” Enjolras tugged Grantaire inside and gave a slight nod to Eponine, who smiled and gave Grantaire a hug, making him promise to be good before she left.

Enjolras turned to Grantaire. “I’m truly sorry Grantaire, what I said was horrible and wrong, you aren’t- you have never been a waste of anything and you don’t deserve that kind of treatment.” Enjolras said, staring so intensely into Grantaire’s eyes he felt like Enjolras was looking right into his soul.

“Don’t worry,” Grantaire said, with an awkward cough, avoiding Enjolras’ eyes and pushing past him to sit on the couch, “it shouldn’t have gotten to me, it doesn’t usually, I’d just had a rough day.”

“That’s not an excuse!” Enjolras said, following him into the apartment. “You should be allowed to have bad days, you can’t be expected to be the unshakable cynic all the time… or ever.”

“It’s not your fault.” Grantaire said, in a tone that made it clear that the matter was now closed for discussion. So Enjolras just nodded and walked into the kitchen and began preparing tea. It gave Grantaire time to think about what Eponine had said, had Enjolras really been upset by what he had said? It was uncharacteristic for him, but really, Grantaire had never been the best judge of Enjolras’ emotions and it was entirely possible he’d missed a hurt tone, a hesitation, or a dropped gaze in his own upset.

“I need to apologise too.” He said, after a while, “I don’t know how much my opinion means to you, but Eponine tells me it’s a lot, and I would hate for you to think that I had really given up on you or the things you care about.”

Enjolras handed him his tea and sat on the couch beside him. “Of course your opinion matters to me, you matter to me.” He started, staring into his tea, avoiding Grantaire’s gaze. “And I was… hurt, but that is no excuse for what I said to you.”

Grantaire looked up, searching Enjolras’ expression for a sign that he was lying, that this was just a joke, but he found nothing but honesty.

“I didn't… I never… I'm sorry, it didn't even occur to me it would matter to you whether I cared or not.” Grantaire said slowly, still processing.

Enjolras looked up, smiling a little. “It seems there have been some miscommunications between us.”

“So it seems.” Grantaire replied, smiling too. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen this expression on Enjolras, all soft and open. It made his heart flutter in a different way to its usual ‘holy shit Enjolras is so hot’ way, normally they were fighting, so naturally he had always imagined that if somehow he and Enjolras ended up in a relationship it would be more of a hate sex thing. But now, with Enjolras looking up at him with a soft smile, wearing loose pyjamas and holding tea, suddenly all these domestic images pop into his head. He sighed and put down his empty tea cup. “It's getting late, I don't want to keep you up, I'm sure you have a class tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Enjolras sat up, the softness from his expression fading, whatever barriers he normally had were back in place as he collected their mugs and disappeared into the kitchen. “So uh, I don't have a spare bedroom as such but there's a blow up mattress in the closet.” He walked back out of the kitchen and paused in front of Grantaire.

“Yeah- uh that's fine, I'm in no position to be fussy.” Grantaire stood up as well, following Enjolras to the closet where he pulled out the most dusty blow up mattress Grantaire had ever seen.

“...I don't have visitors often.” Enjolras offered as explanation. “I don't think I can make you sleep on this…”

Grantaire looked up, shocked. “No I- it's fine, seriously I've slept on worse, I would honestly be perfectly happy with the couch.”

“No, you're my guest, look my bed is a queen bed, we could both fit if that's alright with you, and we can go buy a better mattress tomorrow.”

At this point Grantaire literally felt himself ascend to the astral plane, where he stared god in the eyes and swore at them for letting this happen. How on earth was he supposed to sleep in the same bed as Enjolras without spontaneously combusting? And yes, that was an over exaggeration but he genuinely had no idea how they were supposed to live together until he found a new place let alone sleep in the same bed, even if just for a night. They argued enough already without being around each other all day.

Somehow Grantaire managed to change in the clothes he used as pyjamas, brush his teeth, and climb into Enjolras’ bed without panicking and/or annoying Enjolras. And lying stiffly as far over on the bed as possible he could not have regretted any decision more in his life. There was no way in hell he was getting any sleep.

Grantaire woke up to a weight on his chest. He tried to shift it but it just wound it's limbs around him and clung to him. He opened his eyes to a facefull of blond hair, which meant the weight clinging to him was Enjolras. Fuck. There was no way for him to get out without waking Enjolras up.

“Enj?” Enjolras shifted a little but made no move to wake up.

Grantaire sighed, he was stuck until Enjolras woke up, and it was a weekend and Enjolras was not a morning person, so he was gonna be here for a good while. Enjolras’ legs were twisted between his own, one of his arms was stretched above his head, resting his hand on the pillow next to Grantaire’s face, while the other was looped around Grantaire’s arm and clutching the back of his shirt, and his head was resting on Grantaire’s chest. It was like something directly out of Grantaire’s dreams but Enjolras must have just latched onto him while he was asleep, there was no meaning behind it and he really needed to not read into it. And yet…

“Mmmm.” Enjolras shifted again, his hand moving into Grantaire’s hair.

“Enj?” Grantaire tried again.

“Mmm?” Enjolras’ voice was muffled in Grantaire's shirt.

“Morning.” He said softly.

“R?” Enjolras said, lifting his head and looking up at Grantaire. Grantaire's insides melted at the soft expression on Enjolras’ face, but then his eyes cleared and a combination of embarrassment and shock flooded his face.

“Fuck I'm sorry, this is so embarrassing, I'm weirdly clingy in my sleep, I'm so sorry.” Enjolras rambled, extracting himself from Grantaire.

“Hey, no, it's ok! It's fine, I uh- I don't mind.” Grantaire said, grabbing Enjolras’ wrist before he could actually get out of bed.

“Do you want some coffee?” Enjolras said, looking at anything but Grantaire.

Grantaire watched him for a minute, sitting up. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Yeah, sure.” Enjolras replied, looking nervous.

“Did that mean something?”

Enjolras shifted awkwardly, sighing and seemingly steeling himself. “Well, as established last night there have been some miscommunications between us and I believe one of them is the fact that I do in fact care deeply for you, which, I have been informed, you are not aware of.”

Grantaire stared at him, starting to smile. “I like you too.”

Enjolras nodded, finally moving back across the bed and looking Grantaire in the eye. “Did you… did you really think I didn't care?”

Grantaire’s gaze dropped to his lap. “I didn't- I just- we fight a lot, ok? I didn't realise you considered me anything other than your sparring partner.”

Enjolras reached over and threaded his fingers through Grantaire's. “Hey, I'm sorry.”

“You don't-”

“No I do, R I'm sorry, I'm sorry I spent our entire friendship so far acting like you meant nothing to me. Because that could not be further from the truth.”

Grantaire finally looked up at him, smiling a little. “I'm sorry I always fight with you, I don't know why I always end up insulting you.”

“You know, combined we probably have the communication skills of a below average person.” Enjolras said, laughing and dropping his head on Grantaire’s shoulder.

“We got to this point though didn't we?”

Enjolras smiled up at him. “Yeah we did.”

“Enj, can I kiss you?”

Enjolras blushed and nodded slightly. “Yeah, of course, please.”

Grantaire turned and cupped Enjolras’ face, kissing him gently. His lips were soft, Grantaire mused, moving one of his hands into Enjolras’ hair, god was everything about this man soft?

Enjolras’ hands had slipped under Grantaire’s shirt and he was tracing patterns on Grantaire’s hips, and Grantaire honest to god felt his insides melt. Then Enjolras gently pushed him down until he was lying with Enjolras on his chest again, before he pulled back and buried his face in Grantaire's chest.

“You wanna go back to sleep?”

“Mmmhm.” Enjolras mumbled. “You're comfortable… and you smell nice.”

Grantaire laughed and wrapped his arms around Enjolras. “Well let me know when you want coffee.”

Enjolras nodded, clearly already half asleep. Grantaire smiled down at him, threading his fingers into the blond hair. So what if it took them 6 years to get here, they did it and it was worth all the fighting and pining, if only for this moment. If only so that he got to see Enjolras, their godlike leader, fast asleep on his chest, snoring lightly and wearing baggy, yet actual, button up PJs. They were far from perfect, they both sucked at communicating, and just because they were… ok they actually hadn't discussed it but whatever they were, it didn't mean they would stop fighting Grantaire knew that. But he also knew Enjolras liked him, Enjolras cared about his opinion, cared for him, and Enjolras knew he felt the same about him and he knew that would change everything.

[left-myself-in-the-alleyway]

Forever & Always

Part 3

Warning: Descriptive abuse, panic attack(s) touches lightly on drinking

To anyone who reads this: I wrote this part before I did any research on panic attacks and such so please be kind.

Thanks to @momobucketcomics for editing/co-writing this and making the mood board below.

More thanks to @devotedlybeautifulkingdom- (Tumblr won’t let me tag you!) for showing support for this story.

-

I felt someone rubbing my back. Someone, or something was comforting me, telling me I was safe. In the state I was in, I'm surprised I could hear it at all. I could feel the sweat trickling down my face, leaving a wet, slimy trail. I also felt myself calming down, albeit slowly.

It's okay. It's okay. I kept telling myself, desperately wanting to believe it.

I sat up straight and leaned back, still trying to fill my lungs. I could barely get enough air in them without feeling like I was suffocating.

I heard someone say my name.

"Mmhhmm...?" I mumble, my eyes still shut tight.

"Evelyn, can you please open your eyes?" I hear a voice that sounds like Tony ask, sounding... concerned?

Slowly, I comply to my so-called father's wishes.

I opened my eyes to see a sea of faces staring at me, worried expressions on their faces.

...Last time I checked, there weren't this many people in the room. Damn, I'm seeing double again.

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, my head was clear enough to speak normally. "I'm sorry... overreaction." I try to cover up.

"I would like to apologize for asking you that. I didn't know you would react that badly." Thor explained. It was badly worded, but...I knew what he meant.

"It's okay. It's not your fault- I shouldn't have let my mind wander..." The last words drifted off into a mutter- I wonder if he could hear me.

"Do I have a room?" I ask quietly. I don't want to stay here for much longer.

"Yes, I um. Yeah." Tony still looked a bit freaked out about my panic attack. I hope he hasn't bitten off more than he can chew by taking me in...

"I can take her to her room, Tony." Steve offers.

"Thanks, Steve." He replied, walking away.

Steve gave me a smile. "Follow me."

Dragging my feet, I grab my backpack and duffle bag. Panic attacks are exhausting.

As soon as we leave the room, it's just the two of us. The hubbub in the last room seemed to have vanished from existence, as if nothing had happened at all. Huh, guess they have soundproofing here too.

"Are you okay?" He asked as the elevator started to move.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say, trying to get some form of a smile to form on my face. I hate it when people worry about me- I feel like I'm just a nuisance to them.

"You know, when I first came out of the ice, I had panic attacks. Everything was really overwhelming." He admitted. "I found the best thing I could do was talk to people about what happened. War is an ugly thing. You see a lot of things you wish you hadn't."

"It sounds like...you had a hard time leaving the past in the past and embracing the future" I say quietly as we navigate the halls, a whisper being all I could muster.

"You're pretty smart for someone so young. But that is something that you should remember too. Your past may determine your future, but it doesn't have to rule it." He explains as we come to my door, his pure blue eyes boring into my hazel ones.

"If you ever need anything at all, and you can't find Tony, don't be afraid to come to me for help." He said softly. "Just ask JARVIS to take you to my apartment. It's on this floor."

I scrunch my eyebrows. Apartment? "Everyone here has half a floor, except for myself and Tony. He has a whole floor to himself. I have almost a whole floor, so that's why Tony figured it would be a good idea to put you here." He explained.

My eyes go wide. "That's right, you get a small apartment just for you." He chuckled.

I smiled to myself. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Remember what I said." He says, walking away.

I walk into my room, exhausted. I let go of my bags, letting them land wherever. It's so clean in here, I feel a slight twinge of guilt for messing up the neatness of everything with my scruffy baggage. I look at the rustic, brown clock. Thank God it’s not some weird futuristic aesthetic design, I hate that kind of stuff . It's 6:00.

That means it's only 3:00 back home.

Home. Somehow, the word feels foreign in my mouth- like a new shoe that'll take getting used to, or... Something.

I look at my messy bags laying haphazardly on the floor. My other luggage must be downstairs, wherever Mr. Hogan put them. I'm too tired to care about anything right now. I've got so much to do, but I can't resist taking a quick nap- Then I'll unpack and check out the rest of the apartment.

I flop down on the couch. Closing my eyes, I still can't believe how much my life could change so much over the course of a few hours.

-

Tony trodded over to the lounge bar, searching for the drink he had left behind earlier. He chugged down the glass of alchohol. Even though it was now room-temperature, he savored it rushing down his throat. Then, without even thinking, he poured himself a glass of the strongest bottle on the shelf- Devil's Springs Vodka. He collapsed on the couch sipping his strong drink.

-

"No, no! Stop it!" I scream at my mother.

She had just returned from wherever it was that she went. Probably the bar, considering her words were extremely slurred. With every step she took, it was heavier than anything- like ten earthquakes simultaneously rocking my world.

She was hitting me, landing blow after blow over and over again. I wish it would stop.

I need it to stop!

I almost got away, but she latched onto my shirt and pulled me back.

"Oh, darling. You're not getting away that easily!" She laughed as she dug her long, inhumanly sharp nails into my arms. I cried out as I felt the skin start to split and bleed.

She shoved me onto the floor. Before I could be relieved at her release, my head caught the corner of the table on my way down. Pain exploded through my head, and I could feel hot blood welling up somewhere on my face. Through my blurry, spotted vision I saw her chug down another bottle of vile-smelling beer.

Then, instead of doing what I hoped she would do, she threw it at me. I screamed as it shattered on the floor, showering me in broken shards. I cried out one last time as I felt the pieces of glass embed themselves in my flesh, burning deeper and deeper inside me. As I struggled to run away, my hands slipped on the floor that was pooling with my blood and tears. It rose ever higher, fueled by my bodily fluids, threatening to flood the entire room. The salty mixture seeped into my fresh wounds, burning them black.

Before I black out, I hear her say something. Her voice was no longer slurred, but crystal clear. It was sick and twisted, familiar and yet of something nightmarish that you'd only hear in the darkest depths of hell.

"Remember, Evelyn; however far you run, no matter how hard you fight back, I will be with you. Forever... and Always." As she growled those last words, everything faded away into darkness.

-

I shot up out of my restless slumber, drenched in cold sweat. My heart was pounding. I quickly pulled up the sleeves of my pullover, thinking I had woken up after being knocked out. There were only fading bruises and scars. Then, I remembered where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I glanced at the clock. I only slept for 45 minutes, and I'd managed to have one of the worst nightmares in history. Oh, jeez.

I started unpacking my measly possessions. Anything to get my mind off That.

Someone had brought the rest of my bags up and put them in my room. I plopped down on the pristine bedsheets, feeling myself sink down into the mattress. It felt much comfier up here than on the couch. Maybe if I'd crashed on an actual bed, I'd have been spared the horrors of that nightmare.

I hung up a few of my tops in the closet. Most of my clothing consisted of long-sleeved sweaters, which I used to wear to school to hide the marks. I also had one sundress and two maxi skirts. They were beautiful, but I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Standing on my tiptoes, I put a few of my pants and shorts on the shelves. Some of them were messed up, but I threw them in anyway. I was never any good at folding clothes. From there, I head into the bathroom to unpack all of makeup and other... Necessities.

I wonder if there's any dishes in the cupboards. Skipping off to the mini-kitchen, I went to check. Sure enough, there was. There was also food in the fridge! Am I supposed to live by myself, completely? I wonder to myself, checking out the other contents of the various drawers. The countertops were sparkling, and even inside the compartments of the kitchen, not a jar was out of place. Just the way it will stay, clean.

I fiddled with my phone, looking for my favorite playlist. Ah, found it.

Forgettable by Project 46 filled my ears.

I absentmindedly started to hum along to the song- This soon developed into quiet singing.

The song's beautiful and uplifting melody rejuvenated me. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, as I started organizing.

I adjusted a photo of me and my cat, trying to get it just right. I finally get it to sit at the right angle on the little counter beside the kitchen. As I subconsciously sung to the tune of my music, I stepped back to examine the angle of the frame. Suddenly, in between songs, I heard something behind me. It sounded kinda large- maybe mice? Huh, not if the cleaning team can help it. Really Evelyn, this is Stark towers. There won't be mice here. After ridiculing myself a bit more I turn around, thinking I might make some tea. I nearly screamed when I saw a figure in my doorway...

[jaeminlore]

I'll Be Waiting // Jung Jaehyun

-

the prompt: how about a neighbourau! For jaehyun in which one of u just moves in? ☺️☺️☺️ I’ve daydreamed this scenario so much!

words: 1329

category: fluff

author note: i suppose this lil fluff is to make up for the angst i dumped upon you guys. also, to who requested this, i wasn’t sure what you wanted, but i hope you like this!

- destinee

-

You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in. Most nights you were up past midnight studying or binge watching. Since you had to get up early to go to your job, sleep wasn’t always something were allotted.

However, since it was a Saturday morning, and you had no work, you were snoring away. Busy in the land of dreamless sleep, your mind didn’t even register the harsh knock upon your bedroom door.

It did, however, register your mom’s loud voice. “Y/n! Come downstairs right now and help me bake this cake!”

You groaned, that familiar feeling of agony when one realizes they cannot go back to sleep creeping into your heart. You couldn’t figured out why on earth your mother would want you to help her bake a cake on a Saturday morning.

You got out of bed and checked the alarm clock. 8:23.

You huffed. As far as you were concerned, any time before noon was too early to be woken up on a weekend.

With heavy footsteps, you made your way downstairs and walked into the kitchen, where your mom had a recipe book out.

“Do we have to make it from scratch?” You whined, leaning against the counter. “Can’t we just use a box of cake mix?”

“No,” your mother said, giving you a stern look. “Our new neighbors moved in this morning and I want to be the first to welcome them to the neighborhood.”

“With a cake?” You deadpanned. “Can’t we just send them a card in the mail or something?”

“Honestly, Y/n, do you know the true meaning of friendship?”

You stared at your mom like she had gone crazy. “What are you talking about? You’re not baking a cake for friendship, you’re baking it to show Mrs. Barbara that you’re a better neighbor than her.”

Your mother pursed her lips, “So what if I am? You don’t have to be cynical about it.”

You laughed. “Fine, just tell me what I need to do.”

“I’ve already visited them this morning to ask their preferred flavor,” your mother said.

“If you’ve already visited them, why are we making a cake?” You frowned.

“Because we have to make an excellent first impression. Now, she said her son likes chocolate so we’ll make devil’s food cake. Get started on the icing that you make so well.”

You grabbed the confectioners sugar and the chocolate, grumbling the whole time. “I bet her son is a bratty five year old who picks his nose.”

“Actually, Honey, he’s your age.” You mom corrected with a smile on her face. “You know…”

“No.” You began to measure ingredients while you talked. “He’s probably some arrogant loser who thinks he can get a bunch of girls to sleep with him or something.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“His cake preference woke me up early so I’m allowed to be harsh,” you said, sparing a glance out the window, towards the new neighbor’s home. “I bet his mom let him sleep in.”

“Of course she did,” your mother’s voice held a sympathetic tone to it. “He was up all morning moving boxes into his house. I’m sure he’s tired.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from the window.

-

As luck would have it, your mother was called into work, meaning you were left to bring the cake over by yourself.

The gaudy Welcome to the Neighborhood! written in purple icing made you want to throw up as you walked across your yard.

You were still in your pajamas, with no care for your flyaway hair or your bare feet. Your plan was simple: drop off the cake as quickly as possible and go back home for a well-deserved nap.

Once you were on the doorstep, you knocked three times on the door, a bit brasher than you had intended to.

The door swung open, revealing a tall boy with dark brown eyes and matching hair. Not giving you much room for talking, he began to whisper, “Can you keep it down? My mom is sleeping.”

“Sorry,” you whispered back, trying to ignore the intense beating of your heart at the sight of such an attractive male. “My mother baked this cake for you guys and wanted me to deliver it as soon as possible.”

“Oh,” the boy backed up and gestured for you to come inside. “Sorry. I thought maybe you were here to sell me something.”

“With a cake in my hand?” You asked.

The boy shrugged and smiled shyly, a dimple appearing on his cheek.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks. “Anyway, I’ll leave this here and get going.”

“Wait!” He stopped you. “I don’t really know anyone in this town, so can we sit down and talk? Maybe you can help messenger about this place?”

Honestly, how could you say no to his face? You placed the cake on his kitchen counter. “I guess I can stay a bit.”

“Great!” He said happily. “I’m Jaehyun.”

“Y/n,” you said. You looked around the room. “There aren’t many boxes.”

Jaehyun extracted two forks from one small box he had been digging in. “Well, it’s just me and Mom. We don’t need much.”

You didn’t ask where his dad was, feeling it too personal a question. Instead, you accepted the fork he offered you. “So, what do you want to know about this town?”

Jaehyun looked thoughtful as he stabbed some cake with his fork. “I’d like to find a good college and a steady job,” he admitted before sticking the cake his mouth.

You copied his motions, proud of yourself for the delicious icing. “I know a few places that are opening. What are you good at?”

Jaehyun chuckled and looked down. You noticed a blush appear on his cheeks. “I really like singing and dancing, but I don’t think there’s a job for that.”

“Actually, my friend just opened a dance academy for kids and he needs more choreographers. If your interested, I can give him a call.”

“Really?” He asked. “That’d be great, Y/n.”

You looked away shyly. His dimples were far too distracting. “Just helping out.”

Jaehyun smiled at you, “This cake is delicious, by the way.”

“It better be,” you grumbled under your breath.

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun asked, licking the icing off of his fork.

“I had to get up at the crack of dawn to help my mom bake that cake,” you said, annoyance present in your voice. “All because she wanted me to make my special icing.”

“If it helps,” Jaehyun said, a playful playful tone in his voice. “The icing is my favorite part.”

You turned away, cheeks warm. “Doesn’t matter. I’m still mad.”

Jaehyun sighed, leaning against the counter. “Maybe I should make it up to you. Do you know any good diners around? Cake isn’t exactly the best thing to have for breakfast.”

Was he asking you on a date?

“Uh, there’s a place down the street. They’ve got the best blueberry pancakes,” You answered, trying not to get too excited. He might just want to be friends, and there was no need for you to get ahead of yourself.

“Great!” Jaehyun said. “We’ll have breakfast there and then you can show me around the town.”

“What if I don’t want to show you around the town?” You asked teasingly, feeling somewhat confident. “What if I want to go back home and sleep?”

Jaehyun gasped dramatically, the back of his hand resting on his forehead, “Then I guess I’ll explore the town all by myself. Lonely and lost in the big, big world.”

You pushed him gently, letting out a laugh as you walked towards the front door. “Shut up. I’ll go get dressed and meet you back here in fifteen minutes.”

Jaehyun followed you out, leaning against the doorway watching you to make sure you got back to your house safely, a soft smile on his face, “I’ll be waiting.”

~the end~