#I will be somber in all the happiest places today

[respectthepetty]

I'll be in my feels all week

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 22

Summary: The nightmares return and Y/N wants answers Paul isn’t willing to give.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

Spreading her arms wide, Y/N could barely wrap herself around Paul as he looked onto the breaking dawn. The sun has just barely peaked through the clouds above the trees, sprinkling hope of happiness of yesterday to spill into today.

The road so far has been littered with complications, yet Y/N can’t help but be grateful that of all the complications the universe could have sent her way, it took special care to ensure that complication is Paul Lahote.

The warmth she receives from his sweet brown hues down to his smiling lips is all the flame she’ll ever need to wake up content each day.

“Whachu’ think’ ‘bout?”

Paul’s lips curl ever so slightly at her early morning babbling. She’s never quite liked mornings, saying she’s like an old computer that needs a few hours to boot up properly and Paul could never quite understand how she got into medicine; a person who loves sleep so much chose a career that leaves very few hours of rest? Sounds like hell. And still, whenever she sees him awake before her, he’ll see her trudging toward him with a groggy grimace and the most loving embrace he could never refuse. After all, if he could choose, he’d always want her to wrap her arms around him every chance she gets, for this is what gave him life…real life.

“Are you reconsidering the proposal?” Y/N asks quietly, her hold loosening lightly and Paul snorts at the insanity of her question. He would never reconsider wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. If he knew she’d be willing, he’d have married her the very day she told him she loves him, but Paul followed her timeline instead.

Y/N loved him, but she also wanted to finish her residency. She loved him, but she’s always been career oriented too and while Paul’s been certain she’s lost some of her passion for her job lately, he assumed it’s burnout rather than her having a change of heart. Another reason why he waited was COVID for it had her dealing with more than any human should – far too many nights had he held her close as she bawled from exhaustion, both mental and physical, and far too many nights had he listened to her silence over the phone when all she needed was to hear him breathing to keep herself sane at work. And he needed that too.

Turning around, he places her palms on his chest, forcing himself to seem less somber. “I’ve spent years trying to convince you to marry me”, Paul reminds her. “I’m not backtracking on this.” His thumb caresses the back of her hand, grazing the engagement ring on her finger. “You’re mine and that will remain unchanged as long as you want to be mine.”

Licking her lips, she suppresses a smile. “And if I say that’ll never change? I’ll always be yours?”

“It’ll make me the happiest man alive.”

Noting the stiffness of his smile, Y/N’s eyebrows furrow lightly. No matter how hard he tries to hide it, his eyes give him away. When Paul smiles, it’s with his entire face, his eyes crinkle and his lips curve upwards forming lines across his cheeks and for a moment the weight of the world isn’t resting on his shoulders. She’d seen his eyes when he turned to look at her – something’s wrong. Perhaps she’s not as intuitive as he is as she hasn’t gotten any superpowers through their imprint bond, but she’s an expert in Paul Lahote and his heart is heavy.

Cupping his cheek, she nods lightly. “I want to make you the happiest man alive.”

“You already did”, Paul assures her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a bad dream, dove”, he pulls her in for a hug. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he sighs. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Y/N wanted to believe him, she truly did, but Paul’s words carry a heaviness coated with dread she never knew he was capable of feeling. He always seemed so strong, so untouched by fear that she couldn’t possibly imagine what walked through his dreams that had temporarily snuffed out the light in his eyes.

“I always worry about you”, she whispers as her lips touch upon his collarbone.

She hoped it was a one-time thing, except it happened again.

Paul found himself in a vicious cycle he barely escaped the first time. He’d fall asleep, live his worst nightmare only to wake up, desperately struggling to breathe. Then he’d lay awake for the rest of the night, wrapping his arms around Y/N as he’d count her breaths. He’d bury his face in her neck and pray to the gods, to the ancestors, to any and every higher power to give him reprieve.

What he failed to realize is that Y/N would wake in the middle of the night from his body heat, hearing his whispered prayers and she grew weary with each night that passed. Whenever she’d ask him if he’s alright, Paul would make up an excuse.

Until she’s had enough. That night she didn’t sleep at all.

At 2 am, it happened.

With a loud gasp, Paul sprang out of bed and fell to his knees. His strangled breathing had her heart dropping as she throws herself over the bed, clumsily falling next to him on the floor. The panic in his wide open eyes, his hand over his sprinting heart and the shakiness of his entire body in utter fear had left her crumbling as he began sobbing.

It’s the same every time, as the day moves on until the afternoon, Paul would feel the first signs of anxiety trickle through his bloodstream. As night would come, so did panic over what he might see when his eyes close. It’s a discomfort in his chest, then it sets deeper and he gets the urge to run, to escape and hide like he did when he was a child fearing his father’s belt, slipper or whatever he’d get a hold of to beat him with in a drunken haze.

When he wakes from the dream, the panic makes him want to jump out of his skin and he feels like a child again, shaking, terrified. The heart feels constricted by it, as if he’s strangled just by the air around him and he can’t hide it anymore.

The first sob took Y/N by surprise as it broke free as a guttural scream and she wasted no time in holding him closer, his head resting on her chest as each sob wreaked his body and her sanity. Her own tears flowed freely for hearing his cries broke her heart. She ran her fingers through his hair when he seemed calmer after an eternity.

“You’re okay”, she whispers, “I’m here”, she reassures him, “I won’t let go.”

Paul reaches for her hand as her soft words reach his ears. She feels like a safety blanket kissing his wounds better and she’s endlessly patient as his sobs die down and his tears dry up.

She wanted to talk about it once he calmed down, but as his tears stopped and exhaustion took over, Paul’s breathing evened out and his eyes closed. Once he drifted off, Y/N was wide awake, holding her fiancé like a child in her arms until the sun came up.

When Paul woke up, he didn’t want to move. If he did, he’d have to answer her question and he’s not ready to do that. How can he tell her what haunts him? He needs to keep his nightmares to himself for to speak of such things means giving it substance and it’s more than his heart can take. His nightmares aren’t stuff of fiction, rather a reality that must be lived so what will he get by telling her? It will only spread misery.

“I know you’re awake”, she states.

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re speaking”, she quips and he groans, trying to hide his face between her breasts until she squeals.

“Ssstopp!”

Chuckling, he opens one eye and looks up at her with a smirk. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Nuh-uh”, she narrows her eyes at him, “I’m not allowing you to distract me with sex.”

“But I’ll make it good sex”, he wiggles his eyebrows only to be met with a scowl. “Fine. But you’re missing out.”

Rolling her eyes, she wraps a lock of his hair around her index finger and lightly pulls on it. “Time for you to tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“What has you so on edge that you’re having nightmares so often?”

Gulping, Paul pulls away from Y/N. Shrugging, he sighs. “Are you asking as my fiancé or as my imprint?”

“Are you seriously asking if that’s an order?!” Standing up, she scoffs at him before walking out of the room.

Hanging his head low, Paul sighs. It’s easier to fight than be vulnerable now, to admit that his love for her is more of a curse right now than a blessing. Paul inhales sharply as he hears her hurried footprints become louder. Before he has time to say anything, she’s back in the room with a disappointed look set on him.

“How dare you ask me that? Have I ever forced you to say or do anything?!” Leaning back on the doorframe, she places a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I’m worried about you, just as I was years ago when you were pulling some really weird shit. I asked about it then and you promised you’d tell me when you’re ready and you never did.”

“Y/N”, Paul tries but she’s not done yet. He can sense he’s hurt her feelings, but she’s more than hurt, she’s pissed at the implications of his question. She has every right to be.

“I’ve been patient”, she reminds him. “I’ve been quiet and patient and waiting for you to come to me, but something is clearly fucking with your wellbeing and if you’re not going to talk to me, then talk to a therapist or go to Sam or whoever the fuck you want, but figure it out Paul.” Biting the left corner of her lower lip she crosses her arms over her chest. “Or the next time I’ll do exactly what you seem to be expecting me to. I’ll be the awful bitch who demands an answer.”

“I never said that”, he’s quick to respond but she shakes her head and Paul knows there’s nothing he can say to make it better now.

“I’ll spend the day with my dad”, she informs him. “Use this time well.” The anger in her eyes serve as a shield and sword, hiding the clouds of rainfall she’d rather die than allow him to witness.

So, within minutes, Y/N left and Paul forced himself to find the strength to pick himself up off the ground. She’s right, he needs help.

Reaching for his phone, Paul was surprised to see the pack group chat was blowing up.

“237 messages?” Paul grumbles before opening the chat. Scrolling to the top, he didn’t pay much attention until he saw it and his breath hitched.

EMBRY: You must be joking! This is the last thing we need right now!

QUILL: Why here?

JARED: It’s insane!

SETH: We can’t take this risk, Jake.

JARED: Paul will go feral when he reads this and you know it.

JAKE: It won’t be for long, just until the threat subsides.

SAM: You’re bringing them here despite being aware what the consequences may be?

JAKE: They won’t be here long enough to cause issues.

JARED: A single day could cause a kid to shift and you know it. Which one of our kids do you want to doom to this bullshit life?

EMBRY: And what if they follow them, huh? You’re really going to bring the fucking apocalypse to our doorstep?

Gulping, Paul could feel himself begin to shake. This time, it wasn’t fear rattling his self-control, it wasn’t the argument he instigated to hide his nightmares from his imprint, it was anger of what little he managed to read and that alone was enough for his fuse to blow for the first time in years. Tossing the phone onto the mattress, Paul ran outside. Barely making it to the door, he fell on all fours, his eyes catching sight of paws rather than hands. Growling, he looks up at the sun mocking him before he decides he doesn’t have to hold back now, howling in rage until his throat feels raw.

SETH: I think Paul just saw the chat.

_______________________

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PART 23

[hopefulstarfire]

Not to get sentimental today but like. Look Alola may be my favorite region, and Sinnoh and Hoenn may be my Homes.

But Kalos holds such a unique and special place in my heart.

X and Y is the first time I really got to experience the community in real time. I was a homeschooled kid until 7th grade and it came out my sophomore year, announced while I was still a freshman. I remember sitting around with my friends talking about the news and leaks and how excited I was over Fairy Types and Mega Absol. We were all talking about what starters we wanted and what pokemon we thought were cool.

My uncle bought it and a 2ds for me for an early Christmas present, so I could play with him and my cousins. I had my Chespin and I built my team and I just had a blast wandering through Kalos.

And as a more somber note, it's the last game I played while my Grandpa was still alive. He died 2 months after the game was released in January of 2014. It's been 10 years and I wish he was still here. But I think going back to Kalos gives me an opportunity to kind of reconnect to that time in my life. A happier time, one of the happiest of my life, right before my world turned upside down. Hell, I was sitting in his favorite chair, playing the game all the time and on the very first day I got it.

Idk maybe it's dumb and sentimental. But it's nice to reconnect to that part of me.

And me, Bucky the Chesnaught, Mavis the Sylveon and Sabre the Absol? Yeah. Yeah this is gonna be a good adventure again.

[bnha-imagines-only]

My Hero: The Dating Sim - Shouto Todoroki

A/N: So… best way to explain this, I was playing Harvest Moon, and I wondered what MHA would be like as that style dating sim, where you run around and during certain times you get specific dialogue or trigger certain events, and their expressions change between a select few things.

This is basically a mock-walkthrough like you can find on the internet for dating sims. I plan to make it a series. 😊

CW: Casual spoilers up through the licensing arc

Intro: … Have we met? No? I’m Shouto Todoroki… (annoyed) Yes, Endeavor’s son.

Hated Gift: This is supposed to be for me?

Disliked Gift: I don’t want this.

Neutral Gift: I could probably use this. Thanks.

Liked Gift: Is it… a holiday? Should I have gotten you something?

Loved Gift: It’s not my birthday, so…? You… want me to have it anyway? (Pleased) You’re surprisingly kind-natured.

During Class Hours:

• The teacher is glaring at you. Better sit down.

Gray Heart Dialogue:

• …Hmm?

• Team training is a waste of time. It would be more efficient if Aizawa-sensei let me handle tasks alone.

• Gray Heart Event: Shouto is training alone, you offer to join him.

• I don’t need your help. You would only get in the way. …! What? No, I’m not saying that to be impolite. (Somber) Training is easier if I don’t have to think about not injuring you.

Response A: You sure? I’m pretty tough, you know.

• (Annoyed) You know who I am, right? Is that why you’re bothering me?

Response B: More like real life that way! Besides, tedious things are more fun with company.

• …I don’t know about all that, but I suppose I can’t take up the entire training hall.

Purple Heart Dialogue:

• What do you want?

• …How am I? Fine. …I’m supposed to ask you it back…? (Somber) Don’t call me rude.

Blue Heart Dialogue:

• How are you?

• You see? I’m not rude. …! (Somber) What do you mean only saying it to appear polite is impolite?!

• Blue Heart Event: Your team loses the cavalry battle.

• It makes sense that you didn’t advance, you are still not very experienced. (Shocked) Er, that came out wrong, I meant…

Response A: That I’m not very good, right?

• (Annoyed) Inexperienced doesn’t mean bad. You’ll get stronger.

Response B: That I shouldn’t be so hard on myself because it’s our first year, right?

• (Pleased) Yes. Work hard and try again next year.

Green Heart Dialogue:

• I couldn’t win the festival with only my ice quirk. That means I have a long way to go to be the kind of hero I want to be.

• Are you planning to go to the training courses today? I’ll see you there.

Date Prompt (After Green Heart):

• Hey, before you go, I was wondering… Do you like food? Together, after school, we could—There is a noodle place downtown with very good reviews.

Response A: Sounds like fun, we should go!

• (Pleased) Great. It will be a nice change of pace from sparring.

Response B: Are we just going to breeze past ‘Do you like food’?

• I’m not the best at this, but I was trying to ask you on a date. Never mind. (Game Over)

Date:

• The food is delicious. It’s nice to take a break from training, but my father gets annoyed when I don’t follow the regimen.

Response A: Maybe we shouldn’t have come?

• (Annoyed) It’s fine, let him be annoyed.

Response B: Everyone needs a break sometimes.

• (Pleased) You’re right, thank you for joining me.

• Can I ask why you wanted to join the Hero Course? Er… Was that abrupt? I’m not very good at small talk.

Response A: I’ve always wanted to make people feel safe.

• (Pleased) That makes sense, you have a comforting quality about you.

Response B: I’ve always wanted to be famous.

• (Somber) I don’t think fame is all it’s cracked up to be.

• …Why did I want to become a hero? Well… It’s what I was raised to do, that’s true, but I… At the end of the day, I do want to help people. Some of my happiest memories are with my mom, watching All Might save people on television. My father was never that hero to me, not in the same way.

Response A: You want to be a hero that carves your own niche.

• Yes, well… (Pleased) We’ll both have to do our best.

Response B: You want to be a hero that’s the opposite of your father.

• (Annoyed) I don’t want the entirety of my career to revolve around him.

• Ah! It’s getting late, don’t you think? We should probably get going.

Yellow Heart Dialogue:

• Hopefully our festival performance can help put everyone at ease.

• Though, I think you’re more suitable to it than I am.

Orange Heart Dialogue:

• I have to take remedial classes for the licensing.

• Of course, I want to be licensed as quickly as possible, but that means I have less time around the dorms. (Somber) …Once I’m done, we’ll have more time to train together again.

Red Heart Dialogue:

• Do you want to train together after class?

• (Somber) Maybe food after? Training always seems to end so fast.

End Event: Shouto greets you as you exit your dorm.

• Could I… talk to you for a moment? Alone? (Takes you to the training grounds) To be completely honest, I hate it when training is over. Er. That’s not what I’m trying to say… I wonder about what lies ahead of us, and with internships and everything going on…

Response A: I’ll still be around! As pros, we can always arrange to team up, can’t we?

• (Pleased) Yes, but I was hoping… that you could rely on me a bit more. I know that managing our careers won’t be easy, but I also know that I would regret not asking you to consider me as a boyfriend. (Happy Ending)

Response B: It’ll be sad, but we should focus on our careers and be the best heroes we can be!

• (Somber) Of course. (Normal) We’ll still see each other from time to time, I’m sure. I’ll be cheering you on, I hope you will do the same for me. (Normal Ending)

…

If there’s a character you’d like to see one of these for, please feel free to request it, my inbox is open. Otherwise, my inbox is also open for imagines and headcanons. 🥰

[holofoiltowercard]

The Journey of The Tarot Haiku

IX: The Hermit - Studies and solitude

The Hermit doesn't have to be a somber state of being, but today's post might be more somber in nature as I am typing it after a night filled with nightmares and my body going haywire.

I have mostly studied the Tarot by myself, even when I was enrolled into the online courses - you do not have to interact with anyone else who is learning, and in fact you actually cannot while you are on that platform, and that was fine by me. I could learn at my own pace, I enjoyed going through different modules, and then I even got the inspiration for the book, so all in all, my studies led to something new and beautiful being born. That is how I see the book, and if I were in a place where I am so rich that I need not rely on sales, I would simply share it for free just so everyone could go look at it and have fun with it. I think that would make me the happiest, because then I would not have to promote and advertise it at all - I could just drop it on people's heads and they would be happy because it's free, and I would be happy because I'm an introvert and a creative at heart, and while typing these posts has been fun and continues to be something nice for me to do each day, the rest of it feels... bad.

When I finished the book and self-published it, I was bursting with enthusiasm and thought that Tarot lovers would jump at it if I could just reach them. Well, that's not exactly what happened. So far it's been kind of lonely with a few little lights of hope twinkling here and there. We really are plagued by capitalism's constant drive to turn everything you love to a profit, and I say that as someone who is selling their book on Tarot: creating it was a source of joy and hope, but trying to show it to others and getting anyone to take interest in it is a nightmare. Instagram in particular is really scary to me as someone used to Tumblr where everyone feels unabashedly raw and unapologetically human. I'm in a state where I look at it and every account that pops up feels fake, like there are no souls out there, just this endless row of perfect facades asking me where I'm located. The few accounts I tried to tag might have never seen any of my posts. I don't know if anyone is looking at the tags. It makes me want to crawl back into a cave, and yet I don't even have a cave: I can tell that my previous job is giving out on me and this book might be my only lifeline at this point. So I, the reluctant Hermit, am trying to cast out my little net, and I cannot recognize anything it catches.

This post probably reads like a scream for help. I'm typing it close to tears. If you're still reading, thank you for caring to. I wish I were in a place where this book could be free and available to all, but until I get there, and I hope to everything I get there, it costs money. I'm sorry.

Buy the ebook

Buy the paperback

Buy the hardcover

[animatedarchives]

I’m not totally sure who you write for so I’m so so sorry for this 👉👈but I was wondering if you could write a little something for Bokuto, Sugawara, and a character of your choice for their marriage day. Like, what thoughts are going through their head when they see you for the first time and they feel when they say “I do”. You totally don’t have to do this but I just thought it would be cute 🥺🥰

author’s note: HI SWEETIE this was adorABLe oMG and i loved writing it so damn mUCH :”) i added oikawa because i feel like i understand his character the most! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT BB

THEIR WEDDING DAY

— 𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎, 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈, 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

Bokuto Kotaro

Emotion swelled in Bokuto’s heart as the music started and you slowly entered the hall

His eyes glistened and shone with pride, watching as you walked gracefully down the aisle towards him

When you finally reached the altar and turned to face him, Bokuto couldn’t help but reach for your hand

He had to feel your touch; it was the only thing that could convince him that this wasn’t just a dream

You squeezed his hand affectionately, drawing out a smile from his lips

He lovingly ran his thumb over your knuckles and gazed at you with absolute adoration

The somberness was eventually replaced with excitement, and Bokuto waited impatiently as the officiant went through the formalities

When it was time to give his vows, Bokuto boldly declared his love for you to the audience, completely unafraid to show you off as his bride

“I DO!” his voice boomed throughout the hall with enthusiasm, the toothy grin never once leaving his face

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant declared, and Bokuto felt his heart dancing in his chest

He was practically bouncing on his toes now, as he anticipated the officiant’s next few words

“You may now kiss the bri—”

Bokuto didn’t even wait for him to finish, far to eager to kiss his new wife

Bokuto’s lips pressed hard against yours as you shared your first kiss as a new married couple

As soon as you parted, he scooped you up in his massive, strong srms

“I’M MARRIED TO THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD!” he shouted, receiving hollers and whistles from the applauding audience

You laughed and Bokuto beamed, bounding down the aisle happily with you in his arms

He set you down at the end, grabbing your face in both of his large hands and kissing you again with nothing short of passion

He could hardly contain his love for you, evident when he picked you up and spun you around

Both of you smiled and laughed the day away, and Bokuto was certain that this was the happiest day of his life

Sugawara Koshi

A small gasp left Suga’s lips when you finally entered the hall in your beautiful wedding dress

He always thought you were gorgeous, whether you were in a long silken gown or an oversized t-shirt with grey sweatpants

But somehow today, you looked so much more ethereal, the light hitting you just right and your hair falling in all the right places

He stretched his hand out to you, guiding you to face him before helping you to adjust your skirt and the long trail that came with it

He took his place in front of you again, holding your hands in both of his while the officiant continued the ceremony

He listened to the officiant’s words solemnly but as always, most of his attention remained on you

He noticed the little twitch of nervousness by your eye and the slight tremble of your dainty manicured hands

Suga squeezed your hands reassuringly, and your eyes slowly rose to meet his

“Just breathe,” he mouthed, and you took a deep breath and exhaled shakily

A small smile formed on your lips as you relaxed, watching as he mouthed a reassuring ‘I love you’, to which you mouthed back an ‘I love you too’

Suga perfectly recited his vows, having memorised them weeks beforehand so he could give you the perfect wedding you’d always dreamed of

He looked into your eyes — the very same ones he’d fallen in love with — and his orbs glistened as he imagined the new life you would have together, one where he was finally able to call you his wife

Once the officiant gave him the ‘okay’, he smoothly stepped towards you, cupping your face in his hand that now wore a gold band on one of its fingers

Suga leaned in and kissed you softly yet passionately, leaving a slight tingle on your lips when he pulled away to look at you

“Mrs Sugawara. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” he smiled cheekily, before bringing his lips to yours again for another sweet kiss

Oikawa Tooru

When you entered the room, Oikawa was completely breathless

It was the first time he’d seen you in your beautiful wedding dress and you looked absolutely stunning

Tears began to blur his vision and he sucked in a breath, willing himself not to cry

Oikawa used his fingers to wipe the wetness from his eyes, desperately trying to control the emotions stirring up inside of him

You arrived at the altar and came to stand before him, your own eyes glassy from seeing him so emotional

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” he smiled, looking at you with so much adoration you couldn’t help but to smile back

The ceremony continued and throughout it all, Oikawa felt like he was floating on air

He just couldn’t believe this was real, that this was actually happening

That he was actually going to marry you, and that you were going to be his for the rest of your lives

Everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever dreamed about… was finally coming true

His voice almost cracked saying his vows but he refused to shed a tear in front of an audience

Finally, the moment he’d been waiting for came: your first kiss as a husband and wife

The audience faded into the background, and it was like you were the only two people in the world

One of his hands cupped the side of your face while the other settled on your waist

He pulled you in and captured your lips in a slow kiss, gradually deepening it as his heart began to swell in his chest

He poured all his emotions into that kiss and you could feel every single one: joy, disbelief, and an overwhelming sense of thankfulness

“I love you,” Oikawa said, thumb gently stroking your cheek

“I love you too, Tooru,” you smiled, before pecking him on the lips once more

Your hand found his and you intertwined your fingers, both of you now wearing the rings you’d carry for the rest of your life

© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.

[yolo1650]

Animal Crossing One Shot- Ten Star Rating (BobxReader)

Summary: Getting that perfect island turns out to be a lot harder than it looks.

Word Count: 1498

Warnings: No warnings here, it’s basically rated G, just two cute people, being cute together

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Feeling nothing but a heavy sense of defeat, you closed the doors of the Resident Service building behind you. With the sun still high in the sky, there was still many hours of daylight left, precious hours that could be spend planting, refurnishing, terra-forming.  

But all you could feel was the aching in your legs, clearly overworked by all the running around you did this morning. They couldn’t help but buckle beneath you. Giving in, you sat down at the center of the plaza, face in your palms, as you remembered Isabelle's advice.  

"Let's get more greenery on this island by planting fruit and saplings. When it comes to tree varieties, we should really branch out!"

Your jaw clenched. While Isabelle's corny joke came from a kind-hearted place, it did nothing to cheer you up from your predicament.  

Last time it was too many trees, and too little flowers. Now that I've spent the whole morning planting more flowers, you're telling me there's not enough trees?

At this rate, you many never get your island to a five star rating.  

Then, you heard someone yelling, their voice getting louder as they got closer to you.  

"Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyy!"

You felt Bob's shadow cast over you, giving you momentary relief from the afternoon sun.  

"Hey Bob."

His shadow moved, and with it, his footsteps as its pattering sounds circled around you. Even with your eyes covered, you could still vividly see Bob's wide, carefree smile, and his arms outstretched like an airplane.  

"The island looks great today! On my way here I stopped like, five times to smell all of the pretty flowers! Or was it more like three times? I kind of stopped counting after two, pthhpth."

Taking your face out of your hands, you leaned your cheek against one of your palms and did nothing to mask your exhaustion and disappointment.  

"Still not good enough to get a good island rating though."

Bob stilled. Taking quick glances between you and the Resident Service building, he began to understand.  

"Oh."

After taking a seat next to you, you look over to his uncharacteristically somber face.  

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Great now you messed up his groove. One of the happiest, most carefree villager is sulking because of you. Maybe it was better if you just got up and left, you should have never left your house in the first place.  

But Bob beat you to it. Standing up with what seems to be renewed energy, he ran back to his house. You didn't have to wait long before hearing your name being shouted in the distance, its volume gradually increasing.  When Bob came back his typical ear-to-ear smile was as well. He was also holding onto a medium sized canvas. With outstretched arms, he presented it exclaiming,

"Here! I gotta lil' something for ya!"

After getting up and dusting off your pants, you took the unexpected gift from his hands. Your eyebrows were raised high in astonishment. Pleased at your reaction, Bob shyly looked away while rubbing the back of his neck.  

"But it's probably nothing compared to what you've done for the island so far."

As you examined the painting you weren't sure how to feel about it at first. Anyone back at your hometown would recognize immediately that this gift was clearly not your style. While you preferred romantic style oil paintings, the piece before you had to be best described as the work of a child. Abstract and sloppy, no distinct line art, and distinct brush strokes. That last part was the most peculiar to you. Did he use cotton balls to paint this?

You took a step back and looked at the piece again as a whole. Once you did, you felt a smile creep up on your face. This painting was clearly made with you in mind, as not only were you the subject, but you were surrounded by all of the things you loved on this island. The foreground was adorned with your favorite flowers, the background was the island's serene coast, and you were wearing your favorite outfit.

The colors were the most impressive, in your opinion. They were so spot on that just looking at it alone made you feel like you were right there, hearing the crashing waves. He even got your eye color at just the right shade, and remembered to add your dimples to your smile.  

You found it difficult to contain your excitement.  

"Wow! Bob, this is amazing! And you painted it? I didn't know you liked to paint!"

"Hmmm? Oh yeah, I like to do all sorts of drawing." Lost in thought, he started leaning back and forth between the balls of his feet and his heels. "But I especially looooooove finger painting! It's like ya got super powers 'cause everything you touch changes color!"

You chuckled. Paw prints, that explained the strange brush strokes.  

"How'd you know my favorite spot on the island was the beach?" You asked.

Bob simply shrugged as he replied, "You're just there so often, I sorta figured it was like, your natural habitat or something, pthhpth."

"What about my clothes?"

He looked away briefly before clearing his throat to answer. "I, uh, always thought you looked the prettiest when you wore those." He couldn't help but blush a little. "Just 'cause you always smiled more when you wore those."  

You then felt your own face heat up.  

"A-and what about the flowers? How'd you know these were my favorite?"

"Oh, those? You were always buying those from Lief every time he comes over." His eyes glanced up in thought as he continued.  

"At first I was thinking what made these flowers so special? You already had so many different flowers in your own garden. So then I bought a pot of my own, and boy do they smell deeelicious! They reminded me so much of you so of course I had to put it here, pthhpth!"

You tried to give a polite smile to match Bob's beaming face. But you weren't too sure how to take that compliment, if it even was one. Was he saying you were like a snack? Does he snack on flowers?

You decided not to dwell on it too much.  

Now when you looked back at the painting, it was as if it completely transformed before your eyes during the short length of your conversation with Bob. What was once sloppy, thick brush strokes were now intentional, and authentic. What was once meaningless shapes of abstraction have now turned into a thoughtful presentation of who you were in the mind of Bob.  

It was all so touching, you might have started tearing up a little.  

You tightly wrapped your arms around Bob.  

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this right now."

He eagerly hugged you back.  

"Like I said, it's nothing." His lips curled into a bashful smile.  

Releasing each other from your embrace, you were surprised to see that somber expression return to his face. His brows furrowed in frustration.  

"I don't know who's judging these islands, but if I were them, I'd give you a ten star rating just because you worked so hard on it!"

You didn't have the heart to tell him that island ratings only went up to five.  

Bob continued on. Pride and determination lighting his eyes as he placed his paws on his hips.  

"I might even throw in a prize, like a day off, or a life-time supply of brownies!" A nervous chuckle bubbled out of him as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, actually, that last part might be more of a prize for me than for you."

Now that he mentions it, you really do deserve a day-off, heck, maybe even a week-off. You put so much work into this island, it was only natural that you needed a break to regain your strength. Then, you'll be sure to get that five star rating!

You grabbed Bob's paw and headed towards the direction to your house.  

"It's been a while since we hanged out, huh? Well then let's go to my place for lunch," you said.  

"Really?!" Now it was Bob's turn to look surprised. Free food always got him excited.  

"Yeah!" You smiled. "Think of it as thanks for the painting."

"Sounds great!" Bob had already skipped on ahead of you, his face radiant. "Race ya!"

"Wait, Bob! My legs are still killing me from this morning, can you-"

Too late. With arms outstretched, Bob zig-zagged his way towards your house, already leagues ahead of you. For a guy who was always hungry, he sure did have boundless amounts of energy.  

You shook your head to yourself and smiled. Taking one last look at your painting before trudging along, you were already thinking of how to best frame it. You loved how brilliant it looked in the natural light. A nice spot by the window would be perfect.  

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This was requested by @teagibs I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long :’-)

Please bear in mind that I’m still in school, so if anyone else has made a request, or would like to request something, it might be a while. I will also be doing requests in the order they come in. 

On another note, this was a lot of fun! Bob is one of my favorites, so I hope I did him justice. I currently have another one shot in the works (not a request), and ya’ll better brace yourself, cause it’s gonna be a dooozy...

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Spoilers for TommyInnit March 1st, 2021 stream

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Tubbo and Ranboo are building the Boo & Bee Hotel right next to the Big Innit Hotel when Sam walks up to them with a somber expression.

Tommy was dead.

Tommy had been in the prison with Dream for the past week due to a security breach. Tommy was stuck in there for a week with Dream. Guess Dream was also stuck in there with him. Maybe Dream had had enough.

Apparently Dream had beaten Tommy to death; signs of bruising along his body.

Tommy? Beaten to death in the prison yard? No. Not possible. Tommy would have gone out with a lot for fanfare than that. That? That was so bland and so not Tommy.

Tubbo simply looked Sam dead in the eye and said: “No. I don’t think so,” and went back to building.

He didn’t see the glance between Sam and Ranboo. Apparently the enderman-hybrid was going to take this information at face value.

Tubbo knew better. Last time Tubbo thought Tommy was dead after spending a prolonged amount of time without him but with Dream, Tommy had been chilling at Techno’s house. Maybe not ‘chilling,’ but he had been spending some time there.

Tommy wasn’t dead. He was just at Techno’s.

Sam looks at Tubbo sadly and goes over to inform Jack.

Tubbo had a logical brain. Tubbo’s brain caught onto patterns. Tubbo’s brain remembered details.

He had been to visit Ranboo, he knew that the Anarchic Commune had an enderpearl stasis chamber. He had seen it with his own eyes. Ranboo had told him the story of how Phil and brought him and Techno back from a far flung mansion with it.

Tubbo remembered that before the two of them went to fight off Dream, Tommy had gone to nab some supplies from Techno.

Maybe Tommy had thrown a pearl into the stasis chamber when he was there last. Maybe Techno was aware, and perhaps he had remembered his little brother and left the pearl there in case. It was plausible. Tubbo had been around to Phil’s cottage in his personal world. He knew Technoblade. He knew that Technoblade was undeniably Tommy’s older brother through and through. Maybe Techno had just had enough and snatched Tommy back to the Arctic to be and stay under his protection.

Let’s be honest. Tommy wouldn’t be the happiest about that. But at least he’d be away from Dream.

- - -

Ranboo had stopped working.

Tommy’s dead. Tommy’s not coming back. Tubbo definitely thinks that Tommy is at Techno’s.

Oh No. Oh No. Oh No no no no no.

- - -

Tubbo sees that Ranboo isn’t working anymore. That’s fine. Ranboo doesn’t know what Tubbo knows. So he puts away the building material and drags him to go visit Techno and Tommy and Phil. Or go home. Ranboo lives there too.

Tubbo tells Ranboo to cheer up. They’re going to see Tommy.

 Ranboo knows that Sam wouldn’t lie to them about this. Tommy is definitely dead for sure.

Ranboo also knows that Phil tore down the stasis chamber in the past week to build himself a proper cottage in the area. If Tommy had put a pearl in, he’d have teleported during the deconstruction.

Tubbo doesn’t know what Ranboo knows. It’s isn’t really going to o well it is?

- - -

Tubbo races up the stairs to Techno’s porch. He knocks. Then he walks in.

“Hi guys!” he says brightly.

Ranboo closes the door softly behind the shorter boy. He doesn’t walk any further in. He seems to somehow be smaller than Tubbo.

“Hello Tubbo.”

The Blade nodded to the two of them, “Good evening.”

“Would you like to join us for dinner? I’ve almost finished a big batch of soup.”

“I would love to.” Tubbo bounds to the table.

Ranboo stays by the door.

“Where’s Tommy?”

Techno tilts his head. “Dunno.” He beacons Ranboo over, he’s just as welcome as Tubbo.

“I thought he was in the prison cell with Dream?” Phil said. “Getting out tomorrow or something.”

Tubbo eyes him wearily. Ranboo’s chair scrapes across the floor.

Tubbo glances at Ranboo, stricken. “Tommy’s not dead is he?” he asks in a small voice.

Phil freezes, ladle mid-air. “Pardon?”

Techno’s eyes harden. He puts his head in his hands. His voices heard that as well. They are screaming for more information.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo says gently. “If Tommy threw something into the stasis chamber, he’d have escaped the prison when Phil tore it down a few days ago. And Sam would have been all over the place talking about a successful prison outbreak.”

“Ranboo,” Techno’s voice booms dangerously.

“Sam said that Dream killed Tommy in prison today.”

Tubbo slumped over completely and Phil dropped the bowl and ladle to the floor in order to catch him. The glazed terracotta shatters.

Techno’s eyes flash red. “He what now?”

“He killed Tommy. Apparently. He’s still in jail though. They can’t exactly put him in double jail. He’s already in maximum security.”

Ranboo shrinks under Techno’s glare and Phil’s piercing eyes. He has to remind himself that he is just the messenger and that they won’t hurt him for this. Right?

Phil picks up Tubbo’s limp body and places him softly on the bed.

Right?

“Ranboo.”

“Yeah?”

“How are you?”

“A little uneasy.”

“Why don’t you stay with Tubbo? Grab some soup for yourself. Phil and I have places to be.”

“Okay.”

“You got an iron blocks Ran?”

“I’ll go get you a stack.”

[yolkyeomie]

Crescendo | Kang Yeosang

summary — The beating of a heart is like a crescendo, screaming louder and louder in one's chest until it's reached maximum capacity, and you’re about ready to burst.

word count — 8.6k words

pairing — yeosang x female!reader

genre —violinist + college au, band au there if you look around a little bit, fluff with like a hint of angst in the later parts

disclaimer — SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT,,, this is more of prologue than anything tbh. also I have almost zero knowledge on college and violins so if this is horrible I’m so sorry. also typos. lots of typos.

part I | part II | part III

I.

There was just something about summer that you liked so much. You just couldn't exactly put your finger on what.

Maybe you liked the sunny days that it would bring? The giant ball of light in the sky beaming down at full power onto every human in sight. It would illuminate the world with a golden glow, bringing out the more natural and earthy colors hidden from the other seasons. The heat would call for unplanned trips to the cool waters and hot sand of the beaches or a quickly made dash to the nearest frozen ice cream shop. Perhaps it was because there was no more school, no more time needed to spend on slaving away for hours at a desk just to not retain any knowledge given.

Or maybe you liked it because it was the time you’d see children the happiest. Every time you biked along the sidewalk to and from your home you’d come across a playground almost always filled to the brim with the joyous sounds of laughter. Children scattered around the playgrounds like little ants to a picnic, grabbing whatever they found the most intriguing for the day. Some would be swinging, some would be sliding, some would even be chasing each other around without any of the equipment catching their attention at all.

However, there was a possibility that you enjoyed the summertime because of the theater your town held. It wasn't very big compared to the ones that could be found in the big cities of your country, but it was nice nonetheless.

There were white walls lined with a fake golden trim along the floors, bright lights nearly blinding one as they walked inside of the theater for the first time. There was a slightly smaller stage than normal, not too tiny but definitely smaller than you’d seen in the more famous theaters. The seats weren't in their traditional curved angles either. They were in neat straight rows leading all the way to the back of the theater where the volunteer tech crew would operate behind the scenes.

There were white walls lined with a fake golden trim along the floors, bright lights nearly blinding one as they walked inside of the theater for the first time. There was a slightly smaller stage than normal, not too tiny but definitely smaller than you’d seen in the more famous theaters. The seats weren't in their traditional curved angles either. They were in neat straight rows leading all the way to the back of the theater where the volunteer tech crew would operate behind the scenes.

Every year your high school would hold recitals for their students in that theater. They would use these performances as a way to showcase their students' growing talents in the art of music or to spotlight their shyer students who never had gotten a chance to show everyone what they were made of. You weren’t in any sort of music group nor did you know how to play any instruments, so you never participated. But you did show up to every recital you could.

When you were in tour first year the only reason you had attended the performance was because your English teacher had promised to raise their overall grade for the year if they did. You were a decent student, overall you had average grades but wasn't the most outstanding person in your class. A few extra points to curve your grades were always appreciated so you had planned on attending the performance.

You had tried to grab a couple of friends to go with you, but all of them coward out when they got the chance. Some would say they were too busy, some would outright tell you they didn't want to sit through a performance they had no interest in. So you ended up simply going with your family, more begrudged than you originally were for the recital.

You had sat through choir members and members of the school's small orchestra and band repeating nearly the same song over and over again. Each song had a different tune, maybe a different style depending on how much creative liberty the singer or player gave themselves. One song was sung a bit louder than the others, another song was played by a small thrown together orchestra than simply a soloist, but they were all the same.

It was boring, and you were growing tired of listening to the same thing constantly. The only thing willing you to stay in your seat the entire time with the arm crushing strength of your mother and your need to get extra points on your grades for the year.

Near the end of the recital was when you had gotten hooked. Your family had finally decided they were going to pack it up for the night, her father had to work early in the morning and you were going to be thrown over towards your grandparents for summer. Just before you could have risen out of your chair to leave behind your parents, you heard it. A different melody than the ones that have been rocking your brain that night.

There was a boy walking on the stage, probably no taller than you was at the time. He was tiny for a first year boy, probably one of the shortest in his class as well. His hair was like a fluffy brown bunny's tail, bouncing and tousling itself around with every step he took. There was a string instrument in his hands, from what you could see was a red-tinged wood violin. You couldn't quite see the expression on his face either though, due to the distance you were from the theater stage.

You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until he plucked one of the strings, letting the note resonate through the theater and bounce off the walls and into their ears. He had played a note, on a different key from the other performers. He was playing a song that his fellow violinists hadn't picked. He was different.

The sound was like a siren's song that grabbed the audience's attention and placed it to the stage. His melody started out soft and somber, almost as if the violin itself was conveying its unspoken emotions. The violinist was trying to use those emotions his instrument lent him to serenade the tears in the audience's eyes to fall and hit the ground simultaneously, creating their own beat to his song.

After a moment of enticing the audience to his performance, he sped up his pace. His quiet song suddenly grew in size until it overpowered every other sound in the room. He strummed each string with a quickness you didn't even believe was possible, his bow striking each note like it was powerful enough to create an earthquake. In a sense, it was like he and the violin had become one being, his string instrument becoming an extension of his arm as he played.

The audience whispered in wonder and amazement of the boy's talents, unable to take their eyes away from his figure. It was an enchanting sound so you couldn't blame them. The violinist had brought you into a world completely different from reality, where every object and plant in sight was made out of his musical chords.

How does a boy, barely over the age of fifteen, have this much power in his hands? You would be cursing yourself if you didn't grant him the title of prodigy right then and there.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn't listen to the rest of his alluring song. Your family had dragged you out of the theater to finally retreat to their humble abode for the night. After that night you had declared to yourself that you’d find the violinist who played that song, whether you had to search all summer for him or dig around your school for him. You’d attend every recital and every performance your school's small orchestra had just to get him to play for you again.

However, you lucked out each time you tried. Your school's orchestra didn't allow students outside of their instrumentalists into the classrooms. The violinist boy was too short for you to find in a crowd at their performances either. You even tried to find someone who might be close to him, but no one seemed to step up to the plate. This went on for the rest of your high school years. The only time you could see him where those days after the school year had ended, listening to him play those high energy tunes and somber melodies for his recital before he disappeared from existence once more.

That was, until now.

Plus you made a little bit of money on the side as well, and who didn't like money? Sure most of it was going to your tuition for college but there were times where you liked to splurged on your own interests every once and awhile.

"You seem tired," a feminine voice commented, making you turn around to face her. It was a girl, around your age, walking towards you, her long sleeves rolled up against her arms to mirror the way her shorts looked. She sat down on the pavement next to you, handing you a water bottle ice cold to the touch. "I would be too if I rode around in this crazy heat. I'm surprised you haven't melted at the mere light of the sun yet."

"I almost did," you responded, taking the water from her hands gratefully. "Today was unreasonably hot... I felt like I was sitting right in the middle of hell. And the fact that my bike is made out of metal, too? It's a miracle I didn't get third degree burns or something."

The girl went quiet for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought before speaking again. "You know I can always do it for you? The delivering stuff. It's my family's business anyway, I should be helping them out, not relying on you to do all of the hard work for me."

"Are you serious?" you questioned, suppressing the unusually strong urge to laugh. "You can't even ride a bike or skate. Nor do you have a car either, it'll take you hours to get from one house to the next. And I like the money I earn from doing this for you, I can't get a job anywhere else so this is just perfect for me."

"But still!" She complained, a pouting donning her lips as you screwed open the bottle cap. "I feel bad seeing you bike along in this hot ass weather for my family! I gotta do something to give you... at least a little relief."

You laughed at her desperation, placing the water by your side to face her fully. "The relief you can give me is not playing your cello so loud in the morning. You play wonderfully, trust me, but it's so loud and I'm so tired." you clarified, reminiscing on every time she'd walk up to her house with the sound of a cello's notes wavering through the air.

The girl wasn't in their school's orchestra, she had picked up on the instrument as a hobby. She didn't have a desire to play it in a school setting or professionally no matter how much everyone would suggest otherwise. Yet she suddenly began to really start practicing more often when her next door neighbor had moved in two years ago. You remembered exactly how frustrated the girl was when she discovered that he played guitar at maximum volume in the middle of the night without any regard for anyone else.

To counteract his annoying behavior, she'd open up all the windows in her house and began to play her cello as loud as she physically could in the morning times. It became a war of the instrumentalists after that and neither of them seemed like they were going to stop any time soon.

"Oh you know I can't do that," She responded, glaring at the house to their left where the guitarist resided. "He'll take it as me surrendering to him. I don't even want to think about what he'll do in the middle of the night once I stop. Probably bass boost his guitar so that it's even louder than normal! Oh god, I won't ever get any sleep if he does that."

You found it funny really. The two had never even met each other face to face. "Right... and we don't want that happening do we?" The girl shook her head vigorously in response to your words, taking your sarcasm very seriously. "I still think you can at least tone it down a little bit... this is our last year, in a few months we'll be dragged off into a bigger city to attend colleges and universities for another four or more years. Are you really going to be playing your cello first thing in the morning in your dormitory?"

"Well..." the girl pauses, taking your words into consideration. "No... I won't really need to since I'm not bringing it with me."

"Exactly!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands together and giving the girl a mocking smile. "Now I think you should at least go over to that boy's house and settle this raging war before you move onto better things. Make amends with him, he might even become a new friend of yours for the future. If not, you're not gonna see him again. There's a very high possibility that he's not going to the same college as you, or that he might not be going to college at all!"

She rolled her eyes at your suggestion, forcing herself off of the ground reluctantly. "Fine. I'll go make amends with him or whatever. But I'll only do it if you give up on the violinist boy from the recitals."

You stiffened at the mention of your high school goal, your very unsuccessful goal of finding him and making him play a song for you. "It's like you said, this is our last year here as teenagers. You've been trying to find him longer than I've been waging this musical war on my neighbor. It's about time to lay to rest, you. Seriously, it's more painful to watch than those terribly edited movies from my parents' watch for the "nostalgia"."

"Ouch there was no need to stoop that low," you mumbled, making the girl laugh in turn. "But I guess you're right. I've failed at finding him for this long, I might as well just give up now."

The girl nodded before patting your shoulders in reassurance. "If you really want to hear someone play music so bad for you, you can always ask me. I know a cello sounds nothing like a tiny violin but I can always try?"

"Actually that doesn't sound like a bad idea," you mumbled after a moment of thinking.

"Perfect!" The girl hummed, nearly jumping with excitement to show off her talents and pleasing your several years long urge to have someone play for you. "Usually I only play for my family but I'm very willing to show off what I've been working on. There's this one song I've using to annoy the guitarist boy in the morning and—"

"Go," you reminded her, your smile growing wider at her friend geeking out about her work. "Go get your cello and actually play it for me."

She nodded at your words, skipping on her feet as if she was as light as a feather towards her house. You knew it would be a bit of a struggle in moving her instrument from her room to the outdoors but if the girl was willingly and happily doing it, she had no reason to stop her.

It was a little funny though, how much you were surrounded by people who were gifted and talented in the form of music. Your school's orchestra knew you because of how you’d always try and snatch a peek into their classroom and attended their performances. Your closest friend was a cellist, but only played for hobby and the boy next door was a guitarist. All these connections started happening because a boy you had been chasing after for four years was a violinist.

You'd think you’d pick up some sort of instrument to attract them to you, and trust and believe you tried. You attempted to start playing many instruments after that summer night in your first year. Guitar, flute, piano, trumpet, you even tried to learn the violin yourself. You just weren't musical gifted, you didn't have the patience nor the ears to learn any sort of instrument that passed your way. The best you could do was play a sad tune on the kazoo or laugh into a harmonica.

It's even funnier when other’s learn that your mother used to sing and play the piano while your father played the clarinet when they were in high school. Go ahead and laugh, you knew you were a musical disappointment. Music was practically flowing strong in your blood and you sucked at it. Don't even get started on dancing either, it was a frightening sight to see. Those who could live to tell the tale never told the tale to anyone.

A melody began to float through the air once your friend disappeared into her house, catching you off guard. It wasn't the sound of an electric guitar, shocking the hair and making your skin prickle with its overbearing and booming sound. It was soft and sweet, vibrating through the air as if it was playing with the wind that blew by every few minutes. You could immediately identify the instrument as a violin, it's slightly strained notes from the bow connecting with the strings were all too familiar to you.

You turned towards the guitarist's house where the song was the loudest. To your knowledge, the boy didn't play any other instrument than the guitar. Yet the violin's sweet yet sorrowful song was coming from his house. Without even thinking you rose off the ground, following the song's notes like it was your guide. You had heard the door of your friend's house open again, signaling that the girl had successfully brought her cello from her room to the front of her house. Unfortunately for her, you were walking a little faster than she could drag her cello case.

"Y/N?" The girl called, trying to catch your attention. "Y/N, where are you going?"

You stood in front of the guitarist boy's house, right before where the balcony was hanging. The door to the balcony was ajar, letting the cool afternoon air into the room and releasing the melody of the violin out. "Is that the guitarist boy's room?" you called out to her friend, not taking your eyes off of the balcony. Just as you spoke the violin came to a screeching stop as if the mere sound of your voice was disrupting the flow of its song.

"No," the girl responded after abandoning her cello and running to your side. She pointed to the other side of the house where the window's blinds were closed yet light still shined through them. "His room is right across from mine, I should know I get the brunt of the blow every time he strums his stupid guitar."

Your voices dropped into pure silence when you saw something moving in their direction from the balcony. The door to the outside area slowly screeched open as the figure on the other side pulled on its door handle, stepping onto the wood floor of the balcony and letting the floorboards creak under their weight. Your eyes widened at the sight of a red-tinged violin, it's body scratched from its long term usage and its color dull from the lighting the setting sun had given them.

A boy stepped into view after the violin, the brown hair bouncing on his head like a bunny's tail. His resting face looked like you were staring at a statue, unable to catch any hint of movement in most of his features unless he blinked his eyes every few seconds. Right beside his eyes was some sort of mark, more of a rosy color than the rest of rather pale skin. He must not leave his house that much. After a few moments of silence, he leaned over the balcony's hand railing and spoke, "What do you want?"

The girl beside you glanced between the boy and you frantically, trying to piece two and two together. "you... is that the—"

"I want," you yelled up to him, interrupting your friend's question to respond to the boy above them. A smile began to play on your lips as you spoke, excitement festering up in your chest. You had found him. You had found the violinist from your first year. "I want you to play for me one of your best songs yet."

II.

There was just something about mornings you hated, no matter the day of the week. They'd always leave you more exhausted than you were the night before, whether you had gone to sleep late or not.

Maybe it's because of the dorm room you stayed in, assigned the room the moment you had gotten accepted into your university. It wasn't tiny, but it was definitely much smaller than your room at home. Your belongings barely had enough legroom with your roommate's whole entire area taking up more than half of the room. Despite being rather clean, to an extent, and cool during the day it was also incredibly hot at night.

A few months back the air conditioning unit for the floor you lived on broke down due to age. The university had reassured the students that they'd be looking into the broken unit and the technicians would be coming in and out of the building to fix it. However, they were rather slow with the process. Instead of just moving toward the third floor where the problem had started, they were moving from room to room on each floor the building had.

Apparently, they were just going to fix the problem in one go, however one go suddenly turned into a few days. A few days turned into a few weeks. And a few weeks turned into two months.

Thankfully they were on the edge of the summer season, the crisp breeze of the autumn air in October beginning to blow throughout the city. However that breeze simply abandoned them every time the night fell, the hallways and the common room being filled to the brim with students trying to escape the blazing heat. One would think it would be much cooler around the nighttime, so did they.

You weren't the heaviest of sleepers either, which meant you'd wake up at even the slightest vibration of a phone. One could only imagine your reaction when your alarm clock suddenly blared its ear piercing wake up call. The irritating buzzing of the built on alarm would always shock you out of bed like a cat. Yet even when you knew you were wide awake, you constantly struggled to force yourself up and out of your room. If time would allow it, you would lay in your very warm and comfortable spot in the bed for at least an hour or more.

What's even worse for you was that your dormitory was co-ed, which meant that next door to you was a group of boys who were sharing a room for the school year. They were loud, constantly moving around in the middle of the night, and screaming at random times of the day which usually ended up being the time that you used to study. There were always noise complaints about those students. No one on their floor, or the floor above and below, like them that much. Yet they never seemed to tone down the problem, they made them worse with every noise complaint that was filled to their resident assistance.

Every time they'd get a noise complaint, they'd go and find someone else who was just a little too loud one day and pin the blame on them. It was a way to show that everyone in the building made a commotion and that they shouldn't be the only ones punished for it. You didn't really care about what they were doing until you had suddenly become a target one day.

"I'm sorry, what?" you questioned them, leaning up against the door frame with your arms crossed. In front of you stood the two boys that lived in the dorm next to you, nearly towering over you like the buildings in the city thanks to the monstrous amount of height. They appeared to be up to no good when they had randomly shown up, and you were absolutely right.

"Are you the one who has been playing that music for the past three days? What was it... classical music?" He asked, tugging at his hair as he spoke. He glanced towards his roommate for confirmation, who nodded his head vigorously in response to his question. "Are you a music major or something? Maybe in the orchestra? If not it's been blasting really loudly lately and my roommate here has a majority of his classes at eight am. Right, Jaehyun?"

The boy didn't seem like he was on board with being used as an excuse at first, raising his eyebrow and staring at his roommate in confusion before turning to you. "Right, I have to get up so early for all my classes. I'd really appreciate it if you keep the violins and cymbals and triangles to like a minimum so that it doesn't bother me anymore."

"If not we'll take it to the RA," His roommate quickly added to put their threat in full effect. "And we'll file a noise complaint for disturbing us."

You scoffed at the thought, wanting to slam the door closed and forget about their petty revenge. "Aren't you the same duo that got a noise complaint filed to them last week because of an extremely loud yet unidentifiable thud..." you began before turning on your heels and correcting yourself. "Oh, my apologies. I meant boom, extremely loud yet unidentifiable boom that came from the laundry room. Only for one of the students on the lower floors to go down there and find that one of the washers and dryers had literally malfunctioned and exploded?"

"Listen," One of the boys tried to interject, his ears burning bright red as you kept talking. "That's not... listen, we—"

"Didn't they go on the security cameras to find out who had done the damage? Because a washer and dryer going suddenly haywire on its own is extremely worrisome and dangerous for the students who may have been around during that time. And weren't you two—"

"Classical music is such an amazing genre of music!" The roommate interrupted, yelling over your voice in a panic. There was a pained smile on his face as he hooked an arm around the other boy, punching his arm to follow along as he spoke. "I mean, it has such a clean and light texture to it, simplistic but a great melody nonetheless! God, it gives me nostalgia for a time I wasn't even alive in! Isn't that right, Jaehyun?"

"Oh," the boy spoke, his eyes darting in between his roommate and you. Slowly a smile began to grow on his face to mask his growing embarrassment as he gestured towards the other boy. "Of... of course! Johnny has such nice music taste! So you know when he says a genre is really good it really means something. Seriously love classical music, man. Lulls me right to sleep!"

Needless to say, they choose to not bother you as much as they used to. The strange and loud noises that would echo through the dormitory walls had gotten significantly lower since that day. They didn't stop completely yet but it was enough for you to keep your peace of mind before waking up every day.

Your mornings had gotten relatively calmer after that incident as well. Both of those boys were usually out of the dormitory by the time you were awake to attend classes or work, so you didn't run into them much during the week. You'd have calm enough mornings to where you didn't feel the need to nearly pass out on a car or bus ride to your campus and almost miss your stop. It felt like a dream come true when you would hop out of whatever vehicle you were in and would be right on time before your classes even started.

"Y/N!" A feminine voice screamed, catching you off guard when an arm suddenly slung around your neck. You clutched onto the bag hanging off your shoulder as you nearly tumbled to the ground at the sudden addition of weight, bringing the other girl down with you as you struggled to comprehend what was going on. They got a few stares from the other students who were arriving and leaving the campus but no one said a word to them. Thankfully everyone practiced the art of minding their business. "You'll never guess what I got!"

"Do I want to guess?" You questioned, shoving the girl's arm off of you so you could regain your balance. Once you were stable enough to stand up, you turned around to see who had stumbled into your path. The girl's eyes were wide with innocence and excitement as she stood in front of you, fidgeting in place as she tried to contain herself. Most of the energy she'd originally be exerting into jumping up and down was focused into the beaming and bright smile she couldn't wipe off of her face even if she tried. "Do I have to guess?"

"Yes, you have to," She demanded, holding her hands behind her back to hide whatever got her spirits high. The girl must have ordered some sort of object online again and simply couldn't wait till after your classes to show you. "It's so worth it, I promise! Just... just guess!"

A sigh escaped your mouth as you straighten your posture, reading deep into the girl's expression to try and figure out what it was. "I'm going to guess—"

"Two front row seats to our school's very own band performance!" The girl nearly squealed, shoving two flimsy pieces of paper in your face. You took a few steps back in order to align your sight with the tickets, taking them out of the girl's hands to inspect.  Both tickets were for general admission, their names printed on it with the date they were expected to attend the performance. "Aren't you excited? I literally fought tooth and claw to get these before they sold out, and you know these sell out fast!"

"Band? Like the guys who play trumpets and bass drums during school games?" You questioned, glancing up from the tickets to face your friend. The tickets didn't have exactly who was performing written down on it, simply stating that it was a live music event. "Why would you go watch them play? I thought you were more of a... pop genre person?"

The girl rolled her eyes at your response, snatching the tickets from your hands and placing them back into your pockets. "No, not the band. Who goes out of their way to specifically watch our band team play?" She hissed. "I mean like rock bands. You know, the type of people who play the drums and guitars in one big band and perform on stage with a lead singer and everything. That type of band."

"My point with you being a pop genre person still stands," you mumbled in response.

"Yes I do like pop music, I understand that," The girl clarified. "But we're going to see Aurora. Our school's very own rock band! Do you seriously not know who they are? I know you listen to classical and orchestral music and all, but I thought you were at least in the loop with Aurora!"

You scoffed as you began to walk forward, shoving your hands into your pockets and you spoke. "Just because I don't listen to the popular music right now doesn't mean I'm out of the loop! I'll have you know that I am a very big fan of idol groups. I even participated in those farewell events when groups’ oldest members start enlisting in the military."

"Idol groups have absolutely nothing to do with Aurora and you know it," your friend grumbled. "Do you seriously not know who Aurora is? At all? Have I seriously been friends with a hermit crab this whole time?"

"Fine then," you shrugged. "Go ahead, tell me about this Aurora band since you're so obsessed and knowledgeable about this group I've never heard of."

Aurora is a much bigger thing than you had imagined. From your friend's knowledge, it was a group of boys who had gathered around the beginning of the year together, all of them having several different traits and personalities that simply meshed together all too well. They had created the band, Aurora, for fun at first as they were all instrumentalists with different crafts. They had started busking in order to make money as a side job and quickly grew in popularity with the audiences they performed to.

Their university had caught wind of their musical abilities and had asked them to perform during the annual club fairs to help attract more students. After that, they seemed to have skyrocketed in popularity within the college campus. Jung Wooyoung, the group's bassist, Song Mingi, the group's lead guitarist, Choi San, the group's drummer, and Jeong Yunho, the group's lead singer, had become some of the most well-known people on campus.

Everyone seemed to know them and wanted to listen to their music, which is why your friend was so excited to be getting front row tickets to their next performance. You thought it was funny though, Wooyoung was the guitarist boy that lived next door to the girl. 

"The past is in the past!" She exclaimed, throwing up her hands as the two entered the university's building. The indoors wasn't very crowded, all the students attending were spread throughout the area either taking a break before their classes began or nearly booking it straight up the stairs in fear of being late. "Sure I wanted to murder him with my cello beforehand, but it's okay because we put our differences aside like you said we should have. And it's good that we did because we ended up going to the same university."

"So..." you began, thinking for a few moments before turning towards your friend. "Does this mean he's your favorite member? I mean you've got the background and chemistry for a nice little love story don't you think?"

"Oh absolutely not," she immediately responded. "We may have made up that summer but I have not spoken to him since. Plus my favorite member is their drummer so if anything I'd like to start a love story with him. Do you think I should plan out of my outfit for the music event? What if I actually start a love story with him like in those tv shows my parents used to watch? We catch each other's eyes during the performance and before we're about to leave I get asked backstage to meet him in person!"

You visibly cringed at your friend's fantasizing, putting four feet of space in between the two of you. "Gross. Go to class before you contaminant me with your fantasies."

"Oh shut up." She rolled her eyes, stopping in her tracks so that you were forced to wait for her. "Everyone likes to fantasize about their love life every once and awhile. It's natural to want something grander than reality to happen to you."

"You are the most cliche woman I have ever met," you mumbled, glancing over your shoulder to look at the girl. "You just told me you want to make eye contact with him and immediately fall in love just like that! Have a fun time dreaming about that while you stand in a crowd full of people in your general direction."

"You're so mean to me!" She yelled, causing everyone in the vicinity to turn and stare at the sudden commotion. "You're just mad that the violinist boy from freshman year refused to play music for you even when you got on your knees! And you were looking for him your entire high school career!"

You sprinted towards the girl at full speed, clamping your hands over her mouth to silence her. She screamed into your hands as you dragged her away from the public eye and muffled her voice. "Heejin, are you out of your mind?" You growled, looking behind you to see if anyone had heard her. "I thought we had both agreed to pretend like that never happened?"

The girl pried your hands away from her mouth and smiled innocently up at you. "We did promise. I just never forgot."

You shoved the girl towards where her lecture hall was located, a frustrated frown growing on your face as a pinkish flush began to creep across your face. "Go to your stupid business math class. Go before I chase you all the way there!" you threatened through gritted teeth. Her friend laughed at the girl's response, skipping like a child to her class for the day.

You really did get rejected that day, it was too ingrained in your brain to forget. The boy had stood on the balcony staring down at the two with a bored and uninterested expression in his eyes, tilting his head like a dog's when you screamed your demands up at him. Honestly, you didn't know exactly what you were expecting. Did you really think that he was just going to pick up his violin and start playing whatever tune he knew just because you asked him to? You didn't even say please!

You had spent a good ten minutes arguing with the boy about how you had been searching for him for years just to make him play at least ten seconds of a song for you. Each time you'd explain your situation to him, he'd immediately give you a dry response of why he kept declining you. He didn't even say it politely! He stared at you straight in the eyes and told you," I don't want to play for you because you aren't worth it."

You swore if you could jump high enough, you would have bounced onto the balcony and strangled him for his rude behavior. It was truly a sight for sore eyes watching an angry and frustrated high school senior scream up at an innocent looking but totally uninterested boy on the balcony. The argument was always almost completely one-sided as well, which made it slightly embarrassing to watch from the sidelines.

You had forced your friend to promise you that she'd either forget the whole incident or pretend like it never happened. Either one was good with you since your friend was known to tell everyone's stories when you weren't paying attention. She had gone this far without saying anything so the urge to talk about it must have been truly bubbling up inside of her. It's been a few months since the incident occurred and the memory is still fresh in your minds.

"God, I'm never gonna live down that stupid incident am I?" you grumbled, practically stomping towards your end destination. "Just when I thought maybe I was finally growing past it, she has to go and bring it back up again. Doesn't she know I'm still healing from that embarrassment? It took a toll on pride and this is how she helps mend the wound? By opening up again?"

You stopped in place when a melody began to waver in the air, following along the cold breeze of the university's air condition. The music notes hopped from breeze to breeze as it traveled through your ears to the next. The sound continuously grabbed your attention as each note was struck no matter how many times you turned to keep walking. It was hitting you like a rock to the head as your brain immediately identified the music maker to a violin.

You slowly turned around to see a few students peering through a crack in some double doors, staring intently on what was on the other side. "They're at it again," one of the older students spoke, holding the door open for his friends to look through. "They're much earlier this time than usual, we'll only catch a little bit of the performance. Do you think something important is happening?"

"You think they're competing for first chair again?" One of the younger students asked, glancing up towards the boy who had spoken beforehand. He shrugged in response to their question, but he seemed to agree for the most part. "Whatever it is, I bet Hong is about to take the first chair again. He's always the first chair. No one can beat that boy when it comes to the violin."

"Kang is always right behind him though, don't forget that," another voice reminded, trying to get a better view of the inside. "Both of them are musical prodigies, and the conductor has always been fond of Kang's playing style. I think he'll get first chair this time."

You couldn't help but let curiosity take over, standing just a few feet away from the group of friends and trying to peer through the small windows of the door. It was rather dark near the entrance to the room, but farther back was lit up by lights that illuminated the wood floor stage where two performers stood. The doors seemed to have led towards an auditorium from the looks of it. You couldn't exactly see their faces from how far away you were, but you could make out a little bit of what was actually going on.

A boy stood in the middle of the stage, the music coming directly from him as he strummed the violin with his bow, grace and elegance oozing off of him. He seemed rather focused on playing his violin precisely, not missing a single note in the song as he allowed the rich and melodic song to ring through their ears. The opened door seemed to amplify his sound even more, ringing within your brain as if it was trying to engraved its sound into her ears. Hearing a violinist play in person was truly much different from hearing it through speakers.

In a chair behind the violinist sat another figure, holding what seemed to be a violin as well in his hands. You assumed that it was the competition who had played their song earlier before you had arrived on campus. His shoulders seemed to tense as the violinist held his final note, a plaintive sound echoing through the auditorium as he held his form to leave an everlasting effect on his listeners.

The students in front of you held their breath as he finished, staring intently at where you assumed the conductor was sitting for his reaction. There was a moment of silence after the note finally fizzled into nothingness, no longer bouncing off of the walls after finding a home in the audience's ears.

"It's Park," the younger student spoke, standing up from where they originally crouched down. "Park is the first chair once again. Honestly, was I expecting a change? No, not really. He's just that talented."

"I was really rooting for Kang this time," the other student spoke, huffing as they crossed their arms in disappointment. "I wonder what he did to not get picked again this time. Usually, Kang performs wonderfully but we weren't early enough to catch his turn."

"Whatever it is," the older student added, shutting the door to the auditorium and shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sure Kang will get over it. I mean that's always next time! But I guess I say that every time this happens..."

When the trio had disappeared from sight, you couldn't help but open the door to the auditorium and peek inside. You had been walking past this exact area how many times and you didn't even notice an event like this happening? Your either extremely stupid or completely oblivious, there's no in between.

You pulled on the heavy auditorium doors, peering in the room to take a look for yourself. The room was chilly, much colder than the breezes nature had been giving you so far. It was like you had stepped straight into the freezer, feeling the need to rub your arms for warm to make sure you didn't suddenly die from the cold. "How long has this place been here? I could have sworn this was an administration office or a classroom... literally anything but an auditorium..." you mumbled to mumbled, your eyes drifting towards the stage.

Only one violinist was at the stage, his instrument dangling in his hands as he sat in silence. The other violinist and conductor were nowhere to be seen, abandoning him to be alone with his thoughts. He must have been the one who wasn't picked by their conductor for first chair, reveling in his defeat by his peer. "Is it that serious?" you mumbled, going to close the door before you zoomed to your class, only just a few minutes late.

Though you saw the violinist rise from his seat in the corner of your eye, approaching the edge of the stage to leave the room. Of course, being the generally nice person you were, you pushed the door back open, holding it open for the violinist to pass through. "Hey, are you about to— Woah! Woah, woah, woah, don't do that!" You yelled at him.

The violinist had raised his instrument high above the ground, a bored and uninterested look in his eyes as he debated on whether he was going to let the violin drop from the height it was at and scar it. It definitely wasn't going to shatter and break, but an ugly dent would be achieved through the notion. Your yelling seemed to stop him in his tracks, preventing him from possibly making the worst decision in his life.

"Don't violins cost a lot of money?" You nagged, forgetting about the door you were holding open and marching towards him. "I know you might be frustrated over whatever just happened but is it really worth breaking your instrument? You should be satisfied with the fact that you even got the chance to be chosen as an option for, what was it, first chair? Whatever it is, I think breaking your violin might be a really bad..." you trailed off as you got closer, slowing down your pace as you got closer to the stage

The violinist stared at you through his long blonde bangs, his eyes gleaming in the dingy and dim stage lights. Despite the horrible lighting it seemed to illuminate him as if he was some sort of statue on display, every curve and sharp corner of his face being highlighted just perfectly. His impassive expression refused to let you in on any sort of emotion or thought in his head, locking you out with every chain known to man. His eyes glanced over you, reading you like an open book before he finally spoke. "Why... do you care?"

Your eyes dropped from his face to his violin, taking note of the bored expression and the red tinged violin in his hands. It seemed like it had been used frequently, it's the color worn from age and usage with scratches scattered throughout the instrument's body. "Oh...," you trailed, dropping your hands to your side in defeat.

How long had he been here? Hiding right under your nose in what seemed to be plain sight. How long were you going to go without realizing the violinist from your freshman year was attending the same university as you? "It's you again."

The boy titled his head curiously, a moment of silence expanding over them like a blanket. You felt like you were going to twitch and squirm under his gaze, the eerie silence of the auditorium and his almost blank stare making the atmosphere uncomfortable for you. All you could think about was the one sided argument you two had; how you had embarrassed yourself in front of your whole neighborhood just because you wanted him to play a song for you. The amount of humiliation that was crashing over you like angry waves could have washed you right of the auditorium if it wanted to.

The violinist crouched down on the stage to look down on you, resting his head on his hands as he began to speak. “Do I... know you?”

“Do you know me?” You repeated, disbelief prevalent in your tone of voice. “Did you really just ask that? Of course you know me! Remember from this summer? Just a few months back?”

The boy nodded his head as you spoke, absorbing all the information you were telling him and letting it process in his brain. He closed his eyes as he began to form his final thoughts, leaning back on his heels before opening them again and staring at you. “Ah... I remember now. You were Wooyoung’s fling for a couple weeks... right?”

“What?” You exclaimed, a rosy pink tint spreading across your face as you spoke. You’ve never even spoken to the guitarist boy when he lived near you, nevertheless have a fling with him. The mere thought of doing something so... dangerous like that made your skin crawl. “No... I don’t... listen, are you serious? You don’t remember who am I at all? Not a thing about me seems to trigger some sort of memory in you?”

“Not to be rude,” he responded, lifting himself out of his crouched position and beginning to walk across the stage to the stairs positioned at the side. “But you don’t look like the most memorable type. I mean if I don’t remember you are, would anyone else be able to?”

His blunt honestly was like a knife to the chest, only he was repeatedly sinking the weapon into your already open wound. Had he always been this straightforward with people? Of course he was, that’s why you never got him to play a song for you. You didn’t even know whether or not you liked the fact that he didn’t recognize who you were because he had formatted his words. You’d much rather be remembered for something embarrassing you did than be forgettable as a whole.

Though by the time you had clocked back into reality, a snarky and rude comment ready to hit the bullseye on the back of his head, he was gone. There was no sign of violinist boy anywhere in the room, as if he has quiet literally disappeared into thin air. “I should have just let him smash his violin to pieces,” you rumbled, now not only late to class but also filled with bitter rage that wasn’t even reciprocated.

[vaskianmountains]

Damen/Laurent, the morning before their wedding

Note: I meant for this little ficlet to be set in a universe where Damen and Laurent met under better circumstances, where Damen was able to court Laurent with all the grace and courtesy that he deserves from the start, and while that is still my headcanon for this, nothing in this actually ended up contradicting canon, so you can decide for yourself whether you want to read this as being canon divergent or canon compliant.

Damen softly closed the door of Laurent’s bedroom behind him. He wasn’t supposed to be here, wasn’t supposed to even see Laurent at all until he walked down the aisle to meet him, but ever since saying goodbye to him after dinner last night, Damen had felt restless. It had been so long since they had last spent a night separated from each other, and when he had woken up, Damen had no longer been able to resist the pull to go see Laurent.

Laurent was standing in front of his vanity, brushing his hair before the mirror, but when he heard the door click shut his hand holding the brush stilled and he turned around. “Damen?” he asked.

“Laurent,” Damen said. He didn’t think he had ever smiled more widely than he did now as he looked at the man who would be his husband before the day was out. He crossed the distance between them, and after taking the brush out of Laurent’s hand and placing it on the vanity, he cradled Laurent’s face in his hands. “You look so beautiful. I can’t believe you will marry me today.” He leaned in and brought his mouth to Laurent’s.

Laurent accepted Damen’s kiss, but he didn’t lean into him like he usually would.

“Is something wrong?” Damen asked after breaking away. He searched Laurent’s face for an answer. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want to see me yet. I know tradition says we can’t, but I just needed to hold you.”

“No, that’s...” Laurent let his eyes fall away from Damen’s. “That’s not the problem.”

Damen rubbed his thumb over Laurent’s cheek. “Then, what is?”

Laurent pulled away from Damen’s hand. He opened his mouth, then closed it again without giving Damen an answer. Instead, he pulled away from Damen entirely and walked over to the windows overlooking the palace gardens where preparations for the wedding ceremony must have long since been underway.

Damen was at a loss. He wanted to follow Laurent and pull him into his arms again, but as Laurent looked out over the place where they were supposed to be married that afternoon, his eyes were closed off and his lips were curved downwards.

“Do you—” Damen couldn’t bear to form the words, but he forced them out anyway. “Do you not wish to marry me?”

Laurent’s head shot around to look at Damen. The somber look on his face was gone, replaced by wide eyes and parted lips. “No!” he said. “No, that’s not it.”

Laurent moved away from the windows again and came back to Damen. Taking Damen’s face into his hands, Laurent looked up at him and told him, “You are the love of my life, and I wish to spent the rest of my time by your side.” He took a deep breath and turned to look back at the windows. “I just wish we could have done this without our entire courts having to be here as well.” He turned back at Damen and smiled. “I do want to marry you, Damianos. I just wish it could have simply been us today.”

If all Damen could have for the rest of his life was Laurent, he would count himself among the happiest men. So, as he leaned in to rest his forehead against Laurent’s, he said, “Maybe, it could simply be us. We could leave the palace right now and we could elope.”

“Damen,” Laurent said.

“If we leave now, we could head to one of the villages along the coast and get married as the sun sets.”

Laurent answered by pulling Damen even closer and bringing their mouths together.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Arranged

Request fic 

Harry Potter Marauders Ers 

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader (James Potter sister)

Summary: Sirius agrees to an arranged marriage with you to keep you safe during the war. You are the worried bride and he is the reluctant groom. With all hell breaking loose around you, its time to grow closer together or let everything fall apart. 

Rating: T- for this chapter. 

______

“He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to be married and he sure as hell doesn’t want me.”

It was the thought that went through your head over and over as you stood across from Sirius at your wedding. Your eyes hadn’t left your soon to be husband’s as the vows were read by a middle aged wizard who had done this job too many times to count. The two of you were just another young couple taking steps into a relationship that neither seemed to be ready for.

Your wedding day was supposed to be the happiest of your life but today wasn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Sirius. You were more than happy to be with your brother’s best friend. From the time you were 10, you had a shameless crush on him but the same couldn’t be said of your reluctant groom. He looked as though you had taken his freedom and crushed it under the heel of your shoe.

Sirius has only agreed to marry you to appease your parents and you knew it. It was no secret. He didn’t want to marry you. You were only his best friend’s little sister that used to pester them. That was the place that you were supposed to stay in and not emerge from.

Fleamont and Euphemia had been worried nonstop about their youngest daughter since Voldemort began to rise in popularity. They had offered to pay Sirius a huge dowry to keep you safe. Whether he took it or not was still beyond your knowledge.

If anyone could keep you safe (in their eyes); it was Sirius. He was the best man for the job! He was the boy who had little to no fear over anything.

You, meanwhile, wanted to stop this whole charade and tell Sirius to go find someone who made him happy. Clearly, you were not that person. Looking at Sirius, you could think about how miserable he looked. He honestly looked like his life was over. The conversation from the previous night came back to mind…

“I want you to still do things that made you happy before we wed.”

You said, softly. The two of you stood outside of your parent’s home in the back garden. Sirius leaned against the railing with his arms crossed over his chest.

‘I don’t think that you want me doing that.”

He replied, breathing in the cigarette that he was smoking. Sirius knew that habit annoyed you and seemed to be increasing how many that he smoked a day now.

“And why not?”

You replied. You had been wondering where the boy that treated you like a little sister had gone so you could get that boy back. This new person that Sirius had become since the engagement wasn’t the least bit kind. You tried to keep in mind that Sirius was probably stressed out of his mind due to working with the order but that didn’t give him any right to treat you badly.

“So you want me to go screw around with loose women when we are married? If you say so…”

“Sirius, please. I get that you don’t want to marry me. You have made that abundantly clear but we can make the best of a bad situation.”

Sirius looked if possible more offended by that comment.

“Whatever, Y/n.”

Sirius, meanwhile, looked down at you feeling completely guilty. He didn’t hate you. In fact, he felt even more protective of you than James did, at points. Sirius had watched you grow up from the time that he had been friends with James and felt guilty that he was taking your freedom. You were too young to be getting married. Especially to a man whose heart wasn’t 100% into it.

It was no secret that Sirius was marrying you at the request of Mr. and Mrs. Potter. That didn’t mean that Sirius didn’t care about you. For the past year, Sirius had begun to notice you for the woman that you were. You were smart, kind, funny and extremely “sunny.” He felt guilty running your sunny disposition with his gloomy one.

Did he love you? No. Could he fall in love with you? It was definitely possible. The moment that you walked out on your father’s arm; something deep inside of Sirius stirred. He wanted to dismiss it as infatuation at how you looked in your wedding dress.

“I could definitely fall in love with you, pretty girl.”

He thought when you gave him a shy smile. Sirius knew that he hadn’t really given you much hope in any kind of romance ever being possible. In fact, your somber expression made Sirius want to kick his own ass.

Instead of acting like his life was over, he could have told you how beautiful you looked. He could have given you some hope...but he didn’t.

Kiss your bride.

The two of you almost jumped backwards when those words were spoken. Sirius was the first to recover before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss took you by surprise. For being the first kiss that the two of you shared (even if it was forced like a child making their dolls kiss) it was still nice. You expected Sirius to handle you like a caveman but he didn’t. Instead, it was more like you were a delicate piece of china.

The “girl” in you was squealing and fawning over the fact that you finally got to kiss Sirius Black. You, Y/n Potter...Black, was the girl that put a ring on his finger. Your “brain” however, told you not to get excited or enjoy it too much. He only kissed you because he had to.

Maybe you should act happy? Act like the happy bride.

Your brain said. You slipped your hand onto Sirius’ cheek preserving the sweet kiss for a moment longer.

Sirius was the first to pull away before giving you a small smile...the first smile of the day.

The reception quickly followed the wedding. You tried to keep up appearances as random guests gave you congratulations. After an hour, Sirius went off to talk to his friends leaving you alone with yours.

“Y/n! Congratulations!”

Dorcas squealed, throwing her arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thanks.”

You said, faking a smile. Dorcas, didn’t know about the whole “arranged” part of your marriage. She was under the assumption that Sirius and yourself fell in love super quick.

“You look so beautiful! No wonder Sirius hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you for years!”

You wanted to laugh at that. Sure, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you...you and every other girl that he could get his hands on.

“Dorcas, you are funny.”

You said, with a fake smile. Dorcas totally bought your act.

“I’m not kidding! Sirius has had it bad for you for so long. I was wondering how long it would take him to man up and fall in love with you. Whatever you did to rope him in, nice work! Have fun on your honeymoon! Make a cute baby!”

When Dorcas sauntered away to find her date, you turned your attention to Lily. You were relieved that Lily knew all about arrangement. At least there was one person that you were able to be “real” with.

“Well, did it all look believable? Did I look like the happy bride marrying the man of her dreams?”

Lily’s smile fell. She looked up meeting Sirius’ gaze. He was looking at you with a hopeful expression that went to depression. Lily sighed. How was she supposed to get you to see that Sirius really did have feelings for you...he just didn’t know how to make it known. Lily, of all people, knew how horrible Sirius was at talking about his feelings. After the hell he went through as a child, he kept all of his feelings bottled up. His feelings for you were no exception.

“You looked beautiful the whole time. Sirius couldn't keep his eyes off of you.”

You had to fight the smile that wanted to spread on your face.

“He had to look at me, Lily. If he was looking somewhere else that would have been one weird wedding. Just like he only married me because he had to. He doesn’t love me. I should be happy because I really am marrying the man of my dreams but I know that he isn’t happy.”

Lily gently reached out to pull you into a hug.

“I think that you would be surprised how Sirius really feels. He hides his emotions through being a smartass. Sirius is going to be happy. I promise.”

You wanted to make a comment along the lines of “he’s going to get laid tonight. Of course, he’s going to be happy” but you didn’t.

“Thanks, Lily. I’m going to go see my mum a moment.”

You quickly hugged your friend before walking in the direction of your parents. Lily, meanwhile, turned and went to join Sirius.

“How is she?”

He asked, softly. Lily sighed.

“Sirius, she doesn’t think that you like her at all. Have you tried to romance her?”

Sirius shrugged.

“I have been busy with jobs for the order. I have run out of time to do romancing. It's no wonder she doesn’t want to be with me.”

Lily smiled as she fixed Sirius’ tie.

“Listen to me. Y/ has had a crush on since before I met her. She wants to be with you. Sirius, I swear, you can be the most annoying human ever! She doesn’t think that you want her. This whole arranged marriage thing is getting out of hand. Go tell Y/n how beautiful she is. Kiss and hold her hand. She’s your wife now. Treat her like a goddess...wait...why am I telling you this? You're like the romance king. Go on!”

Sirius’ mouth dropped. You had a crush on him? Where the hell was he at? If he had known, or had the feeling, he could have swept you off of your feet. The two of you wouldn’t be feeling like that the marriage was a “had to” thing. It could have been a “we wanted this” kind of thing.

For the next half an hour, Sirius wandered around trying to find you. How hard was it to find the one woman in white in the whole damn room? “It's official. I’m an ass.”

Sirius muttered as he walked outside onto a balcony. He froze seeing you sitting alone. Your knees were drawn up to your chest as you looked down at the ground sadly.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Your head snapped up, hearing Sirius’ voice. He stood looking down at you sadly.

“Here I am.”

You replied, softly. At the moment, you were convinced that you would cry if you answered anymore loudly. Sirius sighed before kneeling down beside you.

“I’m sorry that I have been an ass to you.”

Sirius said, taking your hand in his. Had your hands always been this small and...perfect? Damn, you were pretty! Sirius smiled as he really looked at you for the first time in a long time. You had definitely grown up into a beautiful woman. Now you were all his.

You wiped a stray tear away from your cheek.

“It's fine.”

You replied, sadly. Sirius reached out and tiled your chin to face him.

“No, it isn’t. I haven’t been nice to you at all since we got engaged. Can I have another chance? I can be a good man...if you’ll give me a chance. I’ll keep you safe and maybe I can get you to fall in love with me.”

You were surprised at the soft tone in Sirius’ voice. In all of the years that you had known him; you hadn’t heard this tone. He batted his eyes making the woman in you squeal with delight.

“Okay. I can’t say no to those eyes.”

Sirius grinned.

“I knew that you had a thing for me.”

You reached out brushing his hair away from his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe I do.”

______

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@hankypranky

@wontlookaway

@summer-novak

@li0nh34rt

@tas898

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@stuckinsaudi1

@knight-of-gleefulness

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@marichromatic

@maggioli-m

@shitfaceddaniel

@mycuddlycorner

@emiwrites3reads

@sprnaturallover

@deanwherescas

[publickoccurances]

Companion react to sole rejecting their romantic advances because they haven't fully moved on from the death of their spouse

Cait: To be honest Cait was getting fed up of the situation she had somehow found herself in. She’d never been the kind of woman to find herself begging for someone’s attention. She had never had issues of getting someone’s attention in the past, good or bad.

Tagging along with Sole had turned out different than she’d thought. Cait had assumed it would be another gig where she was told who to beat and for how long. Caps at the end of the day and then to the bar. But no, with Sole it was different.

Sole actually consulted Cait for advice. Asked how she felt about the things they were doing. They always split the pay from jobs evenly. Always kept an eye on each other when they’d hit the bar at the end of the night.

Hell with all of this positive affirmation she was gaining was it any surprise that she was slowly falling for them? But they didn’t seem to be reciprocating the feelings.

On a daily basis she would flirt. And one thing Cait knew was that she was attractive and charming. Well she thought she was charming. But she knew she was attractive at least. And this exact thought process was running through her mind as they once again were sat in The Third Rail and her advances were being ignored.

Cait let out a frustrated sigh, taking a long sip from her whiskey. She hadn’t realised how vocal her sigh had been until Sole was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Something bothering you?” Sole chuckled slightly, taking a sip from their drink.

“Huh?” Cait mumbled before shaking her head. “No, not a thing love.” Something was clearly bothering her.

Sole wasn’t a complete idiot. They knew what was going on. The way Cait would stare at them, speak to them, speak about them to others when she thought they weren’t listening.

“Look Cait, you can sit there moody all night but you’ll be sitting there by yourself.”

Cait downed her drink before looking Sole straight in the eyes. “If yer talking bout keeping me company how about ye’ keep me company in a bed and not sat at a bar?” Might as well be blunt. She was done trying everything.

Sole coughed slightly, they were just going to pretend she hadn’t said that. They’d got used to ignoring her advances.

“That’s what I thought.” Cait scoffed, standing up. “I’m goin’ to find someone who will keep me company.”

“Cait c’mon.” Sole sighed and grabbed her wrist gently to stop her walking away.

“No.” Cait muttered as she pulled her wrist away. “I’m done with tryin’ to get ye’ to even look at me Sole.”

Sole rubbed their temples, shaking their head. “I do look at you Cait... but I’m just-.’

Cait wasn’t even going to let them finish. “Just what? Look I’m not bein’ funny here... but woukd ye look at me? Look at what yer turning down? I’m not asking ye’ to marry me. I’m just asking ye’ to have some fun and lighten up a bit.”

Sole took a deep breath and looked away. “Cait... I know it was over a year ago. But I did lose the person I’d vowed to spend the rest of my life with.” They mumbled quietly, staring at their glass.

“Of course yer’ not.” Cait grumbled as she took a step back. “Well, I’ve better things to do then wait around and wait on ye’. See you on the mornin.’

Curie: Curie had thoroughly enjoyed being in this human form. It had been brilliant for learning and experiencing new things. Everything that came along with it was very interesting. She particularly enjoyed emotions.

One emotion she had been experiencing lately was a rather warm one. It made her stomach feel all weird and full and she felt her chest and cheeks were constantly flushed when around a certain person. That person being Sole.

Curie wasn’t quite sure why she was feeling this way when around her friend. Nor was she sure how she had found herself currently giggling at one of Soles extremely unfunny jokes. This was what felt like the hundredth time that day she had giggled at something Sole had said. And it just made her blush even more.

Sole chuckled slightly as they glanced at Curie over the campfire. “You make me feel like a comedian.”

“Sorry Madame/Monsieur.” She held her hand over her mouth. “I do not know why I keep laughing! You ave’ just been so funny today.”

Sole rolled their eyes as they watched Curie curiously. “Hmm you’re flattering me.”

Curie felt her face go bright red. Oh goodness was she? Was she flattering Sole? Perhaps she had found herself doing that more often than she should. But was that a bad thing?

“I apologise.” She looked down at the floor as she waited for her face to return to its usual colour.

“No... no it’s okay.” Sole smiled and nudged Curies shoulder gently. “It’s sweet.”

“Oh.” Curie peaked up, her cheeks still slightly flushed. Had she experienced human feelings for a longer period of time she might have not picked up on this cue so strongly.

Right now what was swirling around in Curies mind was that Sole was reciprocating the feelings she was experiencing. Any little bit of affirmation and it had sent her mind spinning. She didn’t realise that they were maybe just being friendly with her.

“That eez extremely reassuring.” Curie couldn’t help but clasp her hands together excitedly. “Because I ave’ been experiencing feelings lately that are completely new.”

Sole raised an eyebrow, a curious look on their face. “You have?”

“And they ave’ been involved with you.” Curie took a deep breath. “Because lately I cannot elp’ but laugh at all the things you say even when they are not funny. And I cannot elp’ when my face goes all red like this-.’

“Curie.” Sole interrupted, a somber expression on their face. “Curie- I really do enjoy your company. And you are very sweet and-.” They shook their head slowly. “I’m just still healing... I still love Nate/Nora.”

Curie suddenly felt herself suddenly go cold. She looked to Sole, trying to fight the tears that were building up in her eyes. “I understand.” She took a deep breath, once again finding herself looking at the floor. “You are not to rush your healing... I am a doctor. I should know.”

Piper: The time spent with Blue had admittedly been probably the happiest time of Pipers life. She felt appreciated out there when she was with them. They were the only person who didn’t just see her as the nosey reporter. They saw her as a friend, and it seemed a trusted friend at that.

Whether they were out there doing odd jobs and helping people or just hanging out together at her place in Diamond City. Piper really felt appreciated. It was good to have a friend out there she knew had her back. And Blue was that friend.

They spent a lot of time together. A lot more time than she had originally intended. If they weren’t out on the road together Blue had found themself staying at Pipers place a lot. Sometimes they’d sleep on the sofa and sometimes they’d actually share a bed. It was completely platonic of course. But Piper couldn’t help the way a little moment like this would make her feel.

Now the reporter knew that her relationship with Blue was strictly platonic. They had a lot of intimate moments together, such as cuddling, but they meant nothing more than comforting a friend.

But god what was she supposed to do? They spent nearly every day together. They cuddled, play fought, cooked dinner together and all these stupid things that made Pipers heart pound.

Today was another evening like many others they had spent together. They were in Diamond City. Nat was in bed so they were hanging out in Pipers bed, reading comics, drinking Nuka Cola, snacking. It was fun. Time spent like this was calming and Piper enjoyed it more than anything.

“I can’t believe you found a box of these.” Piper whispered as she flicked through another comic. “They’re not missing any pages or anything.”

Sole grinned as they shuffled slightly, getting comfier on the bed. “I know... what a find right.”

Piper noticed Blue moving a little closer to her. Sometimes she didn’t know if they were doing it just to get comfy or just so they could be closer to her. It all got very confused in her mind.

“I’m a lucky gal.” She joked lightly, putting the comic down to look at Blue.

“Oh yeah? Because you’ve got a friend who will bring back a box of comics to you that they had to pry from the hands of a dead raider.” Sole joked lightly.

Piper rolled her eyes, hitting them on the shoulder slightly. “No don’t say it like that... I don’t wanna think about a raider holding on to this even in death.”

The reporter couldn’t help but let her hand slide from their shoulder to their chest. She hardly noticed she had done it. Sometimes she forgot they were just friends.

This was one of those times. Because what she did next she hadn’t even thought about, it just came naturally. She landed her lips on Blue’s neck. Nothing serious, just a peck.

Sole flinched away, taken aback by the action. Well that was something they hadn’t expected.

As Blue flinched away Pipers eyes widened and she immediately sat up straight. “God Blue I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Sole nodded slowly, rubbing the back of their head. “No... it’s okay- I’m just. I really enjoy hanging out with you Piper and I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

Piper shook her head immediately. “No... don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t thinking it’s my bad. If you wanna go I understand-.” She was at the beginning of a ramble but Blue cut her off.

“Piper. It’s okay I don’t want to go.” They offered her a smile. “But I think we should stay at the level we are. It’s for the best for now... I don’t want things to change.”

Piper nodded slowly, trying to hide how much that hurt her. “Yeah sounds good to me Blue. Good to me.”

[cocomaxley]

The Talk

It is our lovely @aestheticartsx's birthday today! Preet, you are super supportive and an amazing friend! Wishing you the happiest of birthdays! We love ya! xoxo Anitah & Gen 💜🖤💜🖤

This is from @ao719 and me, but it was your idea. After your comment on Anitah's birthday fic, we started brainstorming and this is the result.

Summary: Some unexpected news results in more questions and answers from the girls. A follow up to Unanswered Questions found here.

Thanks to @loveellamae and @emichelle for prereading! 😘😘

Tara walked into Thomas’s home office with a shocked expression on her face. When he saw her, he smiled from ear to ear.

“You're a sight for sore eyes.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.

She remained silent. The walk from the doorway to the desk seemed to take forever.

Thomas got worried when she didn't respond. “Tara, are you alright?”

She finally reached his desk, and all she could do was place the plastic wand onto the wooden surface. He looked down confused. Then his eyes widened when he realized that it was a pregnancy test...and it was positive. He couldn't contain his smile.

“We're...you're...we're gonna have a baby!” He got up from his chair and walked around the desk, wrapping his arms around her. She immediately melted into his embrace.

They had been married for a little over a year, and they'd discussed having more children in the future. But this came as a complete surprise. Thomas was an amazing father. He treated Zoey like his own. She had to remind herself that Thomas was nothing like Guy.

She rested her face against his chest. “We can tell the girls after school. Then I have to head to the airport.”

Thomas stiffened. Tara had a nursing conference to go to for a few days. He knew his daughter would ask questions. Questions he didn't know how to answer. “Maybe we should wait until...just until you get back.”

Tara laughed. “It will be fine. They probably won't even think twice about it.”

“Have you met our daughters? Luz blurts out random questions. Questions, mind you, that are uncomfortable. And then Zoey...she knows the answers and just spits them out like it's common knowledge.”

This made his wife laugh even harder. “If they ask, just answer the best you can. You'll do great. Besides, there are more awkward conversations we will need to have with them in the distant future.”

He swallowed audibly. He knew she was right. The bus stopped in front of their house. Then they heard the door open. Zoey and Luz came inside, removed their shoes, and dropped their bags by the front door. The couple made their way downstairs. Tara asked them to sit on the couch while Thomas sat on a wing back chair next to them. Tara sat down on the arm of the chair.

Luz looked at her parents who had somber expressions on their faces. “Ok, wait...I can explain...”

Thomas’s head snapped towards his daughter. “Explain what?”

She realized that the topic for their family chat was for something different. “Oh, nothing. You clearly want to talk about something else. Go ahead.”

Thomas decided to let it go. He would get a phone call about whatever it was that she did. All he could do was shake his head. “Your mother and I have something to tell both of you.”

He squeezed Tara’s knee. “You go.”

Tara giggled. She could feel his nervous energy. “Well...your dad and I just found out that I'm pregnant. You’re going to have a baby brother or sister!”

The girls squealed in excitement. They jumped from their seats and hugged each of their parents. A few moments later, Tara sighed. She knew it was time to leave for the airport. After hugging and kissing her family goodbye, she got into the waiting cab.

She rolled down her window, waving to her family when she heard Luz say, “Daddy, how do girls get pregnant?”

Tara burst into a fit of giggles when she saw her husband's flushed face. He waved his arms shouting, “Tara, wait! Come back!”

Thomas watched the cab drive off. He was all alone. All alone with two girls, one that just asked the question he feared, and the other probably knew the answer and was about to blurt it out. As if right on cue, Zoey looped her arm into Luz’s. As they walked back towards the house, she said, “Babies are made when a man puts his peni-”

Thomas was trying to think of something to distract them. “Hey! Who wants pizza?”

This distracted Zoey. “Yesss, I do!”

He breathed a sigh of relief. He got Luz and Zoey into the car and drove to the local pizza restaurant. The three sat at a table eating their dinner. The bell on the door chimed, and they heard a familiar voice.

Alma approached their table. “Hey there, lawyer man and lawyer man’s children.”

The girls giggled and replied in unison, “Hi, Alma!”

Zoey’s eyes lit up, “you should eat with us!”

Thomas nodded. “Please come join us. There's plenty here.”

Luz took another slice from the tray. “Alma, Zoey’s mom is having a baby.”

Alma’s face lit up. “Congratulations! That's wonderful news!”

Thomas was about to say ‘thank you’ when Luz continued, “Zoey was saying something about how women get pregnant. What was it? A man puts his what in what?”

Thomas choked on the soda he just sipped. Luz held a napkin up to cover her face just as he sprayed the liquid all over the table.

Alma began to cackle. “I am so glad I decided to join you for dinner. Please, Zoey, continue.”

Thomas shook his head vigorously. “Let's not. Not in front of the food.”

He glared at Alma who couldn't contain her smile. He quickly changed the subject. After dinner, they said goodbye to Alma then went home. The girls had gone to their rooms to do their homework. He sat on the couch trying to relax.

His cell phone rang. It was Tara. “Hi, honey. How was your flight?”

“It was good. I got pretty nauseous, but I guess that's from being pregnant.”

The couple chatted for a little while when he heard Luz yelling from upstairs, “THAT’S WHAT SEX IS? GROSS! EVEN THE WORD SEX IS WEIRD!”

He had to pull the phone away from his ear when Tara began to laugh on the other end. “Thomas, it's alright. Don't be embarrassed.”

He covered his face, he could feel how warm his cheeks were. He stammered, “I'm not...embarrassed. What- what makes you think I'm embarrassed?”

They could hear Luz repeatedly saying, “sex, sex, sex, sex, sex.”

“Oh, honey, even your phone is blushing.”

**********

Tag list: @emichelle @the-soot-sprite @zaffrenotes @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @loveellamae @dcbbw @rookie-ramsey

[fantastic-rambles]

The Skylark’s Song [1 /4]

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Characters: Hibari Kyoya, Hibari Kyoya’s parents, Unnamed Gang

Warnings: Violence, Gang, Implied Rape, Attempted Murder, Murder, Police Corruption, Gaslighting

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: My personal headcanons of the (pre-canon) experiences that made Hibari into the man that he is today. Part One: why he has such a strong hatred of crowds and the beginning of his commitment to discipline.

(The other parts won't be this dark. I think.)

It had been a day like any other.

On a warm spring afternoon, they'd gone out together as a family to his school festival, nine-year-old Kyoya running from attraction to attraction, his parents following at a more stately pace but always keeping him in sight.

"Mom! Dad! Here, here!" he called out, practically bouncing with excitement in front of his classroom. Laughing, they caught up to him, following him into the room as he tugged at their hands.

The walls were covered with the students' essays, and Kyoya paused by his, his chest puffed out with pride. Indulgently, they bent over slightly to read what he had written in his neat but still childish hand.

My Dreams

When I grow up, I want to be a great person like my dad. Dad is a hero, fighting the bad guys who are making people sad. He's like a policeman or fireman, except he's even cooler than that! Dad and Mom both love Namimori and want to make this town into a happy place for everyone, and I want to help them. They also love me very much, and I love them, too.

He beamed up at them as his mother knelt to hug and kiss him while his father ruffled his hair. Their pride practically emanated off them in waves, and Kyoya was the happiest that he could ever remember. After the festival, they'd gone to his favorite family restaurant, where he ordered a hamburger steak, still chattering away happily about school: how he was the top student in his year, how his teachers praised him for his work, what he was learning in class now... His parents had been smiling throughout his monologue, sometimes asking questions to encourage him to keep speaking.

But the day had to come to an end eventually, and the setting sun found them walking back to their house, Kyoya hanging onto his parents' hands and occasionally just completely lifting his feet off the ground so that he could swing between them, making all three of them laugh. By the time they arrived home, he was completely exhausted from running around all day, barely able to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth before he fell into his futon. The last thing he remembered before sleep claimed him was his mother sitting beside him, softly humming a lullaby.

It was completely dark when a loud crash woke him. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily, he called out, "Mom? Dad?"

But there was no answer, though he could faintly hear voices elsewhere in the house. Still only half-awake, he followed the sounds to the brightly lit living room, freezing in the doorway as the sight unfolded before him.

Men he didn't know were standing all around the room. His father knelt in the middle, his face battered and dripping blood onto the floor from a broken nose, while his mother sobbed quietly in a corner, held back by two men. A couple of the other men had wooden baseball bats... and guns. Kyoya started to shake as he recognized the weapons he'd only ever seen on TV before. Too scared to step into the room but too afraid to run away, he was frozen in place, at least until one of the men standing by the doorway looked down and saw him.

"Well, what's this?"

As he bent down, his movement caught the eye of Kyoya's mother, and he saw stark terror spread across her face as she recognized her son.

"KYOYA! RUN!" she shrieked. As if a spell had been broken, Kyoya turned and obeyed, his bare feet pattering on the smooth wooden floors as he blindly sought an escape. Suddenly, his familiar home was filled with strange shadows that jumped out of him, making him flinch in the dark corridors, all too aware of his pursuer behind him with steps like thunder. He'd just shoved open the sliding door that led to the garden when the man caught up, seizing him around the waist and swinging him onto his hip with ease.

"No! Stop! Let me go!" Kyoya yelled, pounding against his captor's back with his small fists. The man didn't even try to silence him--they lived too far away from anyone else for the commotion to be noticed--and returned the way they had come, eventually dumping the child in front of his mother. She grabbed him immediately, curling herself around him protectively and pressing his face to her chest as he squirmed, trying to turn around and see what was happening.

"Come on, you don't want to do this in front of your wife and kid, right?" a voice asked, harshly mocking. "Just give us the data and we'll leave, no harm done. It's not like we like doing this either, you know."

A few of the other men chuckled, covering up his father's quiet response, and Kyoya felt his mother cringe just before there was a dull, wet, thumping sound that was repeated several times. It sounded just like when they smashed watermelons on the beach.

"Change your mind yet?" the voice asked, sounding slightly winded. The only response was a groan and panting, and the voice sharpened. "Hey, bring me the kid."

"No!" Kyoya was pressed even harder against his mother's chest, half-smothering him, as hands reached out to grab him, trying to pull him away. Now he began to cry as his limbs were pulled roughly, twisted behind his back or jerked as if they were trying to rip him apart, but his mother still clung to him.

"Take me instead! Please! Leave him alone!" she begged above his wailing.

The voice clicked his tongue, then replied, "Fine, whatever. Shut the kid up."

Her hands ran through his hair, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring quietly, desperately. "It'll be okay, Kyoya. Be quiet, shhh, shhh, shh. It'll be okay."

"Hurry it up," the voice snapped, and they were suddenly wrenched apart, the absence of his mother making Kyoya start crying again, until one of the men casually backhanded him in the face, the sudden pain shocking him into silence as the taste of blood filled his mouth. He subsided into small whimpers, his hand pressed against his burning cheek, as he watched his mother forced to her knees next to his father. The man who seemed to be the leader of the gang tossed aside his bat and reached into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade that he flicked open before crouching down in front of Kyoya's parents.

"You've got such a pretty wife, Hi-ba-ri-san," he taunted, resting the blade against her face. "It would be a real pity if something happened to her, wouldn't it? Looks are everything to a woman, after all. Do you think you'd still love her if she was all scarred, without her nose and ears? Would she still love you, for letting it happen to her?"

"You'll kill us anyways, after you get what you want," Kyoya's mother spat. "Just get it over with. We won't tell you anything."

She flinched as the man dragged the weapon down the side of her face, leaving a thin red gash across her cheek, but she continued to stare at him defiantly. The man snorted, getting to his feet.

"Brave woman. But let's see how long that lasts. Hold her down." He began to unbuckle his belt, his comrades grinning as they dragged the woman down, piling on to stop both Kyoya's mother and father from struggling. Kyoya didn't understand what was happening, but he saw the look on his mother's face, and he ran between her and the man, spreading his arms wide to protect her.

"Stop bullying Mommy!" he screamed, tears and snot running down his face as he shook like a leaf. The man's face twisted into an expression of disgust and annoyance.

"Someone take care of this brat," he ordered, and another man stepped forward, hefting his bat in his hand.

"You got it, boss." Like a cleanup hitter getting ready to smack a home run, he drew back and swung, the sharp crack drowned out by the shrill screams of Kyoya's mother and the hoarse cries of his father. Kyoya collapsed, and the last thing he remembered was the feeling of a foot in this stomach, kicking him out of the way.

He awoke with a splitting headache to a room full of people and bolted upright, screaming, "MOMMY! DADDY!" Startled, somber faces turned to look at him, and a woman in a police uniform walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him soothingly as he kept screaming for his parents. Bright sunlight was falling into the room as other men and women walked around, taking pictures and putting things into labeled plastic bags. The policewoman cradled his head, then drew away in shock, her hand tacky with blood.

"We need paramedics!" she called out, carefully lifting the boy into her arms and heading toward the door. Draped over her shoulder, Kyoya continued to scream, his eyes fixed on two lumps in the middle of the room, covered with white sheets.

A week later, Kyoya stood in the Namimori graveyard, watching as two caskets were lowered into the ground. His head was still wrapped in bandages from the surgery to repair his fractured skull, the doctors having proclaimed it a miracle that he'd even survived. The young boy's eyes were dry as he stared at the marble headstone, dressed somberly in black and surrounded by adults.

Shock, they whispered when they thought he couldn't hear them, shaking their heads sympathetically. Poor boy. Who could have ever imagined it? They had seemed like such a perfect family. But everyone has their skeletons.

The case had been wrapped up quickly: a murder-suicide. Kyoya's mother had found out about his father's affair, and in the midst of a passionate argument, he'd killed her. Consumed with regret, he'd then attempted to kill his son before taking his own life. The boy's story was nothing more than the result of head trauma and a completely understandable psychological refusal to accept the truth. So he'd invented a wild tale of home intruders, blaming nonexistent ghosts for the crime while repressing his memories. The officers in charge of the investigation hadn't even bothered to write down his account, sitting patiently with him for hours in the hospital as they tried to explain what had happened to him.

But he knew. His parents had been slaughtered by that pack of animals: weak, undisciplined cowards too afraid to do anything alone. And they'd had enough influence to cover up the crime, so that the only thing that was published was a short obituary listing his parents' names and ages, and the fact that they had been survived by their child.

Heroes didn't exist. But that didn't mean that he couldn't get revenge.

[Part 2]

[apomaro-mellow]

A Day to Remember

Read on AO3

It was quite the rainy day when they laid Kylo Ren to rest. It perfectly captured the somber mood. Well, at least it had began as a somber affair. Poe had taken it upon himself to officiate the event and seeing as most were ready list every crime and atrocity done by the deceased.

"I know we'd all like to list every crime and atrocity done by the deceased", Poe began. "But we don't speak ill of the dead. In honor of that, I shall only mention the very worst evils against humanity and the galaxy."

He cleared his throat and began, starting with the destruction of Luke's fledgling jedi order and after quite a few minutes, ending with his short stint as Palpatine's disciple. The crowd nodded at each one, everyone in attendance having been effected by Kylo Ren in one way or another.

"Don't forget complicit in the kidnapping, indoctrination, and conscription of children!", Finn shouted.

"And psychological torture!", Rey added.

"How could I forget psychological torture?", Poe shook his head. "Along with physical torture."

"And last week he didn't do his cleaning duties!", someone else in the crowd yelled.

"He took the last roll yesterday!"

"He bumped into BB-8 and didn't apologize!"

"Poor fashion sense!"

"That stuff is all recent!", the newly reborn Ben shouted back from the front row of his own funeral.

"And all of it atrocious", Poe said. "Which is why today we shall lay Kylo Ren to rest so that Ben may live once more."

From where he stood, he light a torch and held it to an effigy made of dry grass, covered in a black cloak. Before setting it aflame, he looked down at Ben, directly into his eyes.

"For as long as you live, you will never be able to bring back the lives you destroyed. You will forever carry them with you. And while some may call you Ben and treat you as a soul on the mend, know that there are those who can never forgive and there is not a person in the galaxy who will ever forget."

Ben swallowed and nodded solemnly. Even among the people here, who were putting up with this whole funeral, were those that would never fully warm up to him. He had done unforgivable things. The fact that he was even able to stand among them at all was a miracle. Poe set fire to the Kylo Ren stand-in and the crowd cheered as it burned. It was a loud reminder of Ben's place in the universe.

"I'm ready to forget today already", he muttered.

"What a coincidence", Poe said as he jumped down from the stage. "So am I."

"I don't know. I think we could celebrate this day by throwing burnt bread at Ben's head", Rose said.

"Waste of bread", Rey and Finn said in unison.

"Besides, I'm done hating", Finn continued. "We should be celebrating the things we love, right?"

Poe smiled. "I couldn't agree more." He grabbed Finn's hands and pulled him close. "Will you make me the happiest man in the galaxy-"

He was cut off by cheers and whoops from the crowd before he could even finish. Ben didn't know what to do with himself but he was a little happy at not being the center of attention right now. After Poe completed his proposal and and Finn accepted eagerly this day was henceforth known as their engagement anniversary and nothing else.

[songzhong]

🔶💧 @narvvhal​.

He's stirring his tea absentmindedly, watching the other go on about whatever topic he was really talking about. He usually likes to listen, of course—but today in particular, he had little focus for lectures.

His focus was elsewhere. Somewhere along the likes of those brilliant, golden eyes or those gentle, preachy lips.

When the other had paused on his words to question the Harbinger, Childe took the chance to lean over the small table and place a tender, affectionate kiss against his lips, lingering on the touch for a good while before parting from the gesture.

"I love you." He muttered softly, right before retreating back to sit on his chair and cover his lips with the back of his hand, gaze dropping down on his tea and cheeks painted in a healthy pink flush. It was clear that he still had a hard time delivering his feelings so openly. He cleared his throat. "Err—P-Please do continue... I'm listening."

Zhongli did continue his explanation despite Childe looking absentminded, figuring that the harbinger would still listen despite having something troubling him―given that the other’s expression was not so somber, he’d probably speak up if he needed to get something off his shoulders... and he did. Although it was not exactly what the consul had figured.

Soft lips were pressed against his. When he saw the harbinger come in, the archon’s heart couldn’t help but jump despite knowing what was too come―or at least very much hoping so... Zhongli leaned in to the embrace, cherishing every second of intimacy... did Ajax ever knew what he was doing to him ? His cheeks flushed the same way the other’s did, and for this one moment, every worry of the world were gone, with only pure bliss remaining... even when they parted, it didn’t feel like it was enough, it was never enough. Which is exactly what made those feelings so precious... so moving. Zhongli was truly, truly happy to be alive, so he could experience those moments.

“I love you.”

This was... a very pleasant surprise. Zhongli had been quite open about his declarations of love, being one to be honest when figuring out his feelings. However, given how significant those type of affections were, he understood if Ajax couldn’t be as open outside of deeply intimate moments. This, right now, truly moved him.

The consultant put down his cup of tea, before moving up his seat on the bench, and sitting back on the same as his love, sliding close to him so they’d be side by side, arm and leg touching, before picking his cup back up and taking a gentle sip... after all, he realized what stopped them from being like this, out in the open ?

After taking a few silent seconds to look up the clear amber sky, Zhongli turned his head towards Ajax, his heart warming up at their current proximity.

“I love you too, Ajax. My love. My soul. Thank you for telling me.”

He leaned in closer, eyes full of tenderness, and adoration. Could this young man ever understood the extent of his feelings for him ? The archon wondered... but it didn’t matter, really, what was important was that those emotions were reciprocated.

“My humble body and soul are yours and yours alone. Made to adore every part of your noble person. Knowing I have a place in the heart of someone which loyalty is so precious ? It makes me feel like the happiest man that ever dared to breathe. I’ll treasure every moment we have together, as one of my most cherished memories.”