#I'm a bit tired of her saying she'll be home at a certain time and then pushing and pushing

[aimarann]

I want my gf to come back home I can't sleep without her and I'm so tired I'm gonna cry

[moonspirit]

Pregnant Annie headcanons ft. some Papamin Propaganda #12:-

requested by @leitouris

Atleast some of this is a repeat from my earlier papamin posts, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

When Annie first finds out she's pregnant, she spends a lot of time wondering how to tell Armin. She has many options: surprise him? Give vague hints? prepare a candlelight dinner? or spend an evening at the beach in the sunset where she'll look into his eyes and say, "You're gonna be a papa..." ?

But you know what? She's not really very good at the "planning romantic things" bit. Still, she wants to make it special, so she settles for dropping hints here and there. Because he's so SMART right? Surely, he'll figure it out?

Turns out Armin is very DENSE when it comes to things like this.

He says: "What's this, Annie? Why are you giving me a picture-book for babies?"

And he says: "Annie, why is this towel so small? It's like it's meant for babies... oh haha, I get it, it's very good for cleaning corners!"

Annie becomes incredibly frustrated and ends up spending an hour throwing darts on a picture of Reiner's face to calm down.

One day, however, she comes home to the sounds of loud crying and sobbing. She finds Armin in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, her positive pregnancy test clutched to his chest.

And he says: "Anniiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee, y-y-you're pregnant??? And you didn't tell me?? I'm going to be a dad?!"

How can the world's smartest man also be so stupid sometimes?

So the pregnancy reveal is a disaster. Of course it is. They're both idiots.

Anyway.

As her body changes, slowly, Annie also begins to feel incredibly uncomfortable and a little insecure. She was always so sure and certain about her body before, in her size and strength and speed. Things are not like that anymore; she's gaining weight, sometimes her back hurts, a lot of the times she feels sick and slow too.

But every time she feels awful, Pieck begins to talk about her baby; about who it's going to take after, what the baby will look like, etc., and it makes Annie feel better. Armin also tells her how beautiful she looks and how lucky he is to be with her. How she's a great woman and that she's going to be an amazing mother. Every night. Every night when she cries, feeling scared, he's there, combing her hair and whispering into her ear until she falls asleep.

The morning sickness is BAD. Nausea and vomiting and revulsion to certain smells. Everyone, Armin especially, tries their best to make things easy for her. In this time, Armin learns to properly cook! (Jean teaches him).

Months pass, and as Annie's belly swells, she can no longer wear her usual clothes and has to resort to loose, flowy, comfortable dresses. Armin's very happy with this! It means he can see Annie in pretty floral prints and fluttering hems!

Whenever the others drop by (Jean, Pieck, Connie & Reiner), they always end up fighting with each other over baby names. Pieck has the best ideas, Reiner has the worst ideas, Jean hates everything because he only likes fashionable names, and Connie's the only one with normal suggestions. Aruani watch them loudly argue in the living room, bored and tired of the noise.

(Secretly Armin has a loooooooooong list of girl baby names that he hides from Annie).

But Pregnant Annie is soon glowing. With happiness, with excitement, with some wonder and bafflement that still lingers even after the first trimester. It's hardly believable that there's a new life growing within her. A bit of hers, a bit of his.

She cries a lot.

Late nights are spent in their dim bedroom with the windows open. On the bed, leaning against the headrest, Annie cradles her swollen belly while Armin, laying by her knees, his chin propped up by a hand, talks. He talks a lot to her and the baby in that soft, smooth voice, of everything and anything. He tells the baby she's going to love the world, that she'll love the sea, that she'll love the sky, that she'll love her mother the most.

"I love you both so much," He murmurs, holding Annie in his arms and stroking her hair. "From the ends of this earth to the moon and beyond."

(You see, Armin's very certain it's going to be a baby girl).

When Armin's not around, Annie too, talks to her baby. Quietly, a little awkwardly, but she talks. She tells the baby, "Your father, he talks a lot doesn't he? He's really looking forward to holding you in his arms... he told me that when you were sleeping last night. You're going to be a curious troublemaker, I can tell."

Baby kicks a LOT. Armin jokes that it's all Annie's genes - great lower body strength and powerful legs.

LOTS AND LOTS OF ARUANI KISSES AND CUDDLING.

When they go shopping for baby clothes, Armin very conveniently ignores the boy-section altogether, much to Annie's annoyance. He's desperate to be a girl dad, pls don't blame him.

All that said, Annie's pregnancy cravings are outrageous and awful! She wants all the strangest combinations of food to ever exist! Fish and ice-cream. Tons of plain sugar and soup. Ice and pickles. These combinations will kill an ordinary person, but she's a hungry mother-to-be, what can you say? Armin's very scared sometimes, but humours all her cravings anyway. Midnight trips to the nearest convenience store and ice-cream shop? He'll do it.

But her favourite pregnancy food is steamed sweet potato :3

Everyone is HELLA protective of her. EVERYONE. Armin most of all, because he's hopelessly panicky and over-protective, but when he's not there, Reiner and Jean are fussing Annie over the smallest things like she's incapable of doing shit by herself. Pieck says: "Why are YOU guys so scared? Annie's the one who's pregnant, not you!"

When Mikasa's around though, she's hovering behind Annie like some dark force from the underworld.

But still, the pregnancy isn't easy. There are scares, like sudden bleeding and several emergency hospital visits. But Aruani get through them, somehow.

What makes the final trimester bearable is Connie, the resident jokester. He cracks so many bad jokes for Annie one morning and she laughs so hard and her water also breaks.

...

EVERYBODY PANIC!

Aruani baby is eventually born to a cheering, tearful crowd.

Armin breaks down crying when he sees his baby's tiny face and tinier hands.

Mama Annie is relieved, sweat clinging to her forehead, out of breath and exhausted, but when she reaches out to hold her newborn in her arms, she realizes with a laugh, that indeed; those big blue eyes are definitely those of a curious troublemaker's.

[nancyheart11]

I wish I had more to offer but I can offer you some Ordon Fam that’s been sitting in my drafts:

Rusl always knew that whenever he came home, there would be warm food and an even warmer hug waiting for him. Whether it was from working in the forge, delivering something to Castle Town, the more covert affairs of the Resistance, or more recently the shroud of darkness that had engulfed Hyrule, Rusl could always rely on Uli to hold the fort at home.

Of course, he tried to pitch in as best he could. When he wasn't doing any of the aforementioned activities, he at least tried to maintain cleanliness in the house, and of course he always looked after the children when he had time to do so. Uli generally managed the home happily on her own, though, and he thanked her for it every day.

So it was a strange and concerning thing when, one evening, Rusl returned home to find Uli sitting on the sofa, no fire crackling in the fireplace, no food to be seen or smelled, and a general dark atmosphere to the space.

"Uli?" he questioned, walking towards her. "Are you alright?"

Uli jumped, startled, having been lost in thought. "Oh! Dearest, I--I'm so sorry, I just--"

His wife paused, sighing and sagging a little in the sofa. Rusl knelt in front of her to be at eye level and looked her over. She seemed very out of sorts. "What's wrong?"

Uli shook her head. "I'm just tired. I'm sorry. I'll work on dinner."

Rusl laid a hand on her knee. "If you're tired, then rest. I'll take care of dinner."

Uli's posture changed, stiffening a little as she shot him an uncertain, questioning glance.

Rusl tried not to be offended by the look. "Just because it didn't quite go that well last time doesn't mean I can't make something for you. Go rest in bed. I'll take care of everything."

Uli watched him a moment longer before sighing and nodding. Rusl kept an eye on her until she vanished into the bedroom, and he nodded to himself, setting to work. The cleaning could wait until after dinner. As for the children, he knew Colin had Hana as he usually took babysitting duty around the evening. He saw them outside just a moment ago. So that just left dinner.

And a bit more from that story…

Colin paused, expression growing worried. "Is Ma okay?"

"She'll be fine," Rusl assured his boy. He had to smile at the child's concern; Colin had such a big heart. Although it was a valid question since Uli usually never faltered, Rusl did know his wife had her slumps just as much as anyone else. He was more than happy to take care of her and the family until she recovered. "But we can make the load easier for her for a little while."

"Where are we going?" Colin questioned next.

"Well..." Rusl paused as they found their way to the last house in the village. "I figured I'd recruit some help."

Rusl and Link had both been on their own journeys now, after the attack on Hyrule. Rusl usually got by with scrounging together something somewhat edible, but he could just as well go a day without eating until he reached a settlement. Link might have better experience - the boy used to help Uli cook when he was younger.

Rusl was humble enough to admit he was a terrible cook, after all. But he was certain they could make something together.

Link was inside munching on a carrot (Rusl sincerely hoped the boy wasn't just going to eat that for dinner). After a brief explanation and another assurance that Uli was, indeed, going to be okay, the three put their heads together on the matter.

"What about an omelet?" Link offered. "It's better than just boiling them."

"How about egg stew?" Colin picked up a glass of milk and shook it. "Ma always says milk is great for stews."

"I've never heard of egg stew, I'm afraid," Rusl laughed. "Is that something you had in Kakariko?"

Ahhhh Lofty you're so sweet!!

I love how Rusl wants to help Uli, but isn't afraid to ask for help in the kitchen.

[seiwas]

i've said this before but i'll never get tired of saying it again !!! this is truly one of my fave hajime fics to ever ever (maybe my most favourite one, really 🥺) i don't even know how many times i've reread this if i'm being honest 🥹

i'm a huge sucker for vignette/timestamp style writing because i love looking at snippets of a relationship over the course of a long period of time 🥹 and i think it's soooo creative that your title is 'over the course of 24 hours', ix, because it feels quick upon first glance but actually spans select hours over the course of years 🥺 a true slow burn -> established relationship timeline, which i adore too 🥺

there are a lot of reasons why i love this fic and a part of it is definitely that i resonate with certain parts of it quite a bit sdfbasdfg but apart from that, i truly, thoroughly enjoyed the progression of reader's relationship with hajime 🥺

i love that you spent time dedicating a few chapters for that friendship/in-between stage, because it allowed me as a reader to ease into their dynamic really smoothly. it set the pace up really well, and allowed me to get to know reader and hajime as individuals and friends, then eventually something more.

that little look they share in december 2011 | 06:51 when reader asks if he feels the change 🥺 it feels like the beginning of a shift in their dynamic 🥺 that shy look-away!! gosh!!! i have butterflies 🥺

You meet his gaze briefly, though the second that you do seems to last a lifetime.

then eventually shifting into intertwined fingers... like... hELLO?!?!?! (july 2012 | 20:35) those shy smiles and blushy cheeks oHHHH i'm falling to the floOR.

If anyone notices the way your fingers intertwine with his on the walk, no one says a thing.

i must also say that, texting eachother and waiting for the other to get home from a party is a love language on its own and i loooove how you included that in september 2012 | 01:02 because i am a SUCKER for moments like that. this entire scene is littered with signs that they're shifting into something more and i'm LIVING for it (the constant updates, the pictures with texts, reader's outfit, REACTION PICTURES) +++ hajime's anxiety too and how he jumps straight into being concerned for her 😭 (so him 😭) + their banter!!! oh MY GOD 'because you're a pushover?' PLEASE. i'm gonna push HIM over.

“Positive. Whatever you need.” Your small token of gratitude has managed to steal the breath from his lungs, managed to fill his heart, managed to wake him up. He starts to toy with the idea of properly asking you out when you mumble his name in your sleep.

i'm LOSING IT.

then reader shows up on his door after his loss (november 2012 | 23:53) and it's this!!! the acts of service of it all!!

Instead of resting, preparing for the finals, you’re here, wanting to console him. It makes him ache with yearning, ache with annoyance.

then he hugs reader 🥺 and i could cry 🥺

i also love how supportive they are of each other(january 2013 | 13:00). i think it's a recurring quality of their relationship despite all that life throws at them, but seeing it in its beginning stages, even before they officially get together is so sweet 🥺 hajime watching her semi-final through his phone, and how he thinks, 'you're so fucking obstinate', how he knows she'll endure the pain. the fact that he texts her immediately and tries to provide the closest comfort he can 🥺 AND!! 'my iwa-chan' oh my GOD. AND HE TEASES HER FOR IT TOO. i looooove that detail. loooove that they both know something's going on between them and can openly tease each other like this.

the fact that he was thinking of confessing during graduation is something sooo personal to me (lmao) because i relate so hard (😭) (march 2013 | 18:12). i resonate so well with the way you set up his thought process; it's something i adore about your writing too!! it's the 50/50 chance, the fact that there's both too little and too much time. i love how honest he is, how he's able to openly compliments her now, and she replies with:

“You’re more important.” The way that statement rolls off your tongue is astounding, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, as though those three words haven’t stopped his heart.

AND IT'S THE TWIST!! THE FACT THAT SHE'S GOING ABROAD TOO!! GOSH. oh my god i love how it kinda feels like things might be falling into place yknow?

then we get to the ldr part and that's when it honestly starts to hit a little too close to home (october 2013 | 16:20 (JST) 00:20 (PST)) 😭 different timezones can be so tough but seeing them still make an effort to call and talk is just 🥺 the tricky part about timezones is always the fact that someone will have to make a sacrifice, either staying up late or waking up early, or dropping plans in the middle of the day, being there while the other falls asleep on the other line 🥺 and WAAH it's so sweet!! how he's working all behind the scenes and waiting to drop the surprise to her 🥺. that 'my hajime' in the end killed me too 🥹

my jaw also dropped at the fact that we were in february 2014 | 07:41 and i juST REALISED THAT THEY WEREN'T TOGETHER TOGETHER YET 😭 omfg but i do love me a surprise visit. and this was sooo sweet. he's sooooo sickly in love oh my god. and he pulls her in and hugs her and reader nuzzles closer oHH my GOD i can't. this scene made me feel all sorts of butterflies 🥺 it's so nice seeing them grow closer physically too 🥺

But when he dreams of you, it’s of how you looked before you left. He wants to tell you that he’s missed you, that there’s not a fucking day that you don’t invade his thoughts. He wants to ask you to stay with him, to let him shower you with pent-up affection, to let him whisk you away to some secluded corner of the world for just the two of you, but he sticks with, “Stay with me this weekend?” “Shit. How am I ever going to match this for White Day?” “I don’t care. So long as I get to spend time with you now, I’m happy.” As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, he presses his lips to yours. For a moment, he’s certain that he’s crossed a boundary, certain that you’re going to turn around and go back to California. Then you pull him closer, returning his kiss with a satisfactory little hum.

when i tell you. i SCREAMED SDFBJSAD my GOD!!! he's so loverboy and truly in the trenches and i loOOVe this 😭

i love their banter together, how reader loves to tease him and how comfortable hajime is to exist in reader's space now (april 2014 | 19:10); that little tilt of reader's head to look up at him HAS me oh my god i love height differences. THEN he kisses her forehead?? mY GODDD.

i already mentioned this, but i felt all the ldr bits on a personal level, especially starting with june 2014 | 04:29. the fact that!! he flew in!! for his birthday!! and reader is waiting for him sleep-laden and everything!! and he calls her doll 🥺🥺 the affection in it all 🥺🥺 the discomfort from a longass plane ride gone just like that when he has her in his arms 🥺 ill cry

i also have an absolute favourite part in january 2015 | 00:00. the line is literally what plays on repeat when i remember this series:

“Even if we had the entire ocean between us tonight, that wouldn’t be your fate,” he admits softly. It’s the closest he’s ever gotten to saying it, though you have to know by now, right? You look almost shocked, pleasantly so, before you nuzzle your face in his neck.

as someone who isn't really verbally affectionate, words weigh a ton to me, so reading this and seeing that you chose to make reader careful with saying 'i love you' hits so deep 🥺 i love the layer that that adds to their relationship and how much depth it gives hajime's love.

april 2015 | 08:38 (JST) 16:38 (PST) is another ldr suckerpunch to the gut. life gets busy enough on its own and when you add ldr to the mix it's just 738573x harder. i've always believed that ldr is just a waiting game—from when you'll meet again, to when you'll can call again, talk again; waiting for the other to get home, to wake up, to be free. and it comes with a shit ton of sacrifice too!! and i love that you were able to capture that here. hajime skipping class to be able to talk to reader.

“Hajime,” you say as soon as the call goes through, hushed almost like a prayer. If it is a prayer, it’s one he’ll gladly answer again and again. “I miss you.”

it's the yearning!!! the feeling of wanting to reach out so bad and comfort but having to settle for hoping words are enough 🥹 truly . this makes my heart hurt every time.

and all that longing culminates in august 2015 | 03:46 !!! seeing how much their relationship has grown to reach this point 🥺 this was so hot and when he said 'pretty girl' . literally TOOK ME OUT lmao . AND HE SAYS THE WORDS!! PLAINLY. CLEARLY OUT ON THE OPEN.

“I meant it. It’s not just a sex thing,” he murmurs into your skin. Your fingers cease their movements and he hears the slight increase in your heartbeat, but you say nothing. Instead, you pull him up by his face and give him a kiss so sweet he wonders whether he’ll have a cavity when this is over. You don’t say it back, but he doesn’t need to hear it. Just you knowing how he feels will be enough.

the moment is so tender!! so raw!! so fragile and i'm 🥺🥺🥺

then comes the problem (february 2016 | 14:28). the fact that he came out to celebrate valentine's day with reader but it turns out like this. it sucks that he isn't approved of (literally perfect man in my eyes 😭) and it hurts!! but it's the fact that he's still thinking about what reader and how she's suffering too that gets to me 😭 it's so!!! just!! what a relationship, yknow? the fact that hajime considers her and how her decision of staying with him can make things incredibly hard for her; the fact that she doesn't care!! and is choosing to fight for him!! and in the end!! they choose each other!! oh my god literally could full on bawl my eyes out rn. it's love!!!!!!!!

and i love how you offer a glimpse of their life together in the aftermath of that (october 2016 | 05:50), how it feels all too surreal for hajime because the future he's been dreaming of now involves her 🥺 it's the gentleness!!! the tenderness!!! amidst all that they're going through 🥺 i can feel so much of his respect for reader and how seriously she's taking the relationship and her goals 🥺 there's so much service and understanding in the way he loves 🥺

i was so sure things would only be smooth sailing from now on, but i adore that you added more hiccups on the road!! because i think!! that's really how life is sometimes 🥺 and having them struggle through their relationship once more, even after getting through ldr, is such a real and natural occurrence in any relationship 🥺

He’s exhausted, thoroughly. Completely. He misses you more than when he was 8,800 kilometers away from you.

^ that line ached!! so i adore the fact that you bring back reader reaching out to him, just like she always has 🥺 asking him to meet her at the parking lot feels so much like asking him to meet her at the supply closet all those years ago 🥺 but this time she calls him handsome and carries with her food they can eat together 🥺

june 2018 | 21:27 (PST) 01:27 (ART) to november 2018 | 09:45 both hurt like crazy. i can't imagine how hajime must have felt, hearing her confide in oikawa instead of him 😭 and i love how you included an annoying girl in it too 😭 the fact that he said fiancee but reader introduced herself as gf 😭 (Not that he could blame you since he’s still working on building up the courage to propose. <- CRYING) and the annoying girl wouldn't stop 😭 and he tried EVERYTHING 😭 i can't believe she even had the balls to message reader 😭 and crash dates literally wtf 😭 ++++ hajime hiding correspondence with reader's mom 😭 i get it but also MAAN HE'S JUST IN IT RN 😭 and it's so sad bc i'm sure a part of him does truly accept that it's his fault. the fact that he hears her talk to oikawa about everything she's been too afraid to tell him must sting in an entirely different way, but i'm sure he gets it too 😭 and will do whatever makes reader feel better 😭

It isn’t until it hits ten in California that he realizes it’s two in the morning in Argentina, that you’re still on the phone with Oikawa, that you still don’t know Iwaizumi’s home.

this part is just so sad!! just imagining him by the door and falling asleep there 😭 i'll cry 😭

then he gets to call with oikawa and i love that he has his own ringtone 😭 and that oikawa's actually been helpful about it 😭

“The same as it was two days ago. Kinda shitty and on fire.” “Tsk. Always such a downer. Are you sure that it isn’t the absence of—” “Her absence is exactly why it’s shitty and you know that.”

looooooove the dialogue and also love how you positioned reader and hajime's dynamic here. he loves her with so much respect that he's giving her the space and time to approach him whenever she feels like she's ready, then you have oikawa here just exposing her like:

“Ah. Well. She misses you. She’s wrapped her pillow with one of your old Godzilla shirts.”

THEN WE REACH THE END (almost) (december 2018 | 02:13) and it makes my heart HURT. her parents finally said yes 🥲🥲🥲 and he still!! he still!! oh my god to be pursued like this for fucking real.

It came in the form of the hospital staff asking him to leave if he wasn’t immediate family—a request made by your mother—only for your father to brokenly tell them that Iwaizumi’s their future son-in-law. To make certain, he asked one final time, adopting dogeza in deference: “Please allow me to marry your daughter.” All he had wanted was to do right by you, by your parents, by his. While the two of you may not be sticklers for tradition, they are. And he wants for you to have a relationship with his family as much as he would like a… cordial relationship with yours.

WHAT A MAN!!!!! i get goosebumps every time i read it.

then when reader says his name oh my god for the first time in person in monTHS i can't even imagine that feeling. literally probably every way you described it as in the paragraph that followed.

it's the culmination of it all. LITERALLY BAWLING MY EYES OUT 🥲🥲🥲🥲 every damn time i've reread this 🥲🥲🥲🥲

“He loves you.” “I know,” you reply, voice a little softer than before. “Do you love him? I imagine you must, with everything you were prepared to sacrifice for him.” You’ve never said it aloud, not to him, anyway. He never needed to hear it, never needed it to know that you care, to know that he wants to be with you for however long you’ll have him by your side. All the same, his heart stills with your answer. “Yeah. I do.”

then we catch a little glimpse of a kind of epilogue 🥺 or maybe just the final chapter 🥺 and i am soooo emotional over this oh my god (august 2019 | 22:27) 🥺 the intimacy in all the gestures 🥺 hugging him from behind and him picking up her hands so he can press kisses on her fingertips 🥺 the kiss to the shoulder too!! (AND HE CALLS HER PRETTY GIRL AGAIN PLS I WILL DIEBSFBJB) (also LOVE the kuroo mention 😭 rooster hair PLS)

AND FUCKING THEN

“Yeah. It is. I, uh, there’s something that’s been on my mind,” he admits, taking the beer from you, steeling himself for what he’s about to do. You watch him with a soft expression, ready to listen to whatever comes out of his mouth. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me.”

literally sell K.O. most favourite haijme fic to ever ever ever ever.

hajime's and reader's characterisations

i love how you characterise hajime, and i think his whole confident but not too confident typa beat is captured so perfectly in your writing. the fact that he feels embarrassed and a bit shy from being stared at at the start (march 2011 | 20:24)!! just because he isn't used to the attention and has lived most of his life believing that he exists on the sidelines of one oikawa tooru.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki both point you out, suggesting that you’re one of Oikawa’s fangirls, trying to catch the setter when he’s free from female attention, but Iwaizumi knows better. You ignore Oikawa’s charm, ignore both Matsukawa and Hanamaki, ignore everyone who isn’t Iwaizumi.

is it weird to say that i love how you characterised the reader? i love that you gave reader the balls to hand over her number to him 😭 literally i think it fits well w how he is and how he handles feelings, because otherwise, idt anything would have happened 😭 i also love the idea of reader being part of her own volleyball team!!! it makes me feel so warm seeing them support each other, with hajime trying to catch her games and them even managing to do a practice match together (may 2012 | 12:16) !! being able to inspire eachother in a common sport is such a special connection i think (that eye contact on the court omg!!) reader is everything i wish i could be and more because i wish i could have the courage to tell hajime he's my lucky charm fr 🤧 + that confrontation in the storage room oh my god (july 2012 | 20:35).

and don't even get me started on his devotion and commitment. i think even simple acts like memorising reader's number before the next match already sets the tone for the kind of person he is (and i'm obsessed!! in case it isn't obvious yet). he's whipped!!!!! and he's trying so hard to hide it!!!! and i think that's the most hajime thing in the world really (june 2011 | 17:43)

it is also such a hajime thing to feel like he takes responsibility and hermits himself because of it, and i love how you showed that in july 2012 | 20:35, where he avoids reader because of their loss against shiratorizawa. and he feels jealous at the fact that reader's kept in touch with the other guys but not him (and it's all his fault!! he knows!!)

The smile you offer is infectious, so much that he can’t help but wonder whether that’s the reason the ramen is better than it usually is.

in november 2012 | 23:53, it could be so like him to isolate himself again 🥺 so it was so nice seeing reader cut the chance of that ever happening like before !!!! and they just show up at his door with his favourite food too and 🥺🥺🥺 i could cry thinking about this.

it is also such a hajime thing to think about timezones and missing opportunities to call with reader. i think he's so intentional with what he does that way, always so concerned and always considerate (october 2013 | 16:20 (JST) 00:20 (PST) - also love how you put both time zones in this one!) and!!! it is also such a hajime thing to keep things mum until plans go into action 🥺 it's the part of him that always wants things to be sure i think 🥺

the fact that he's thinking about a life with reader in april 2014 | 19:10 is, again, so telling of how seriously he takes commitment, i think. and i adore that you capture that so well ix 🥺 (i'm writing this from the perspective of hindsight, but the fact that he was this sure this early on before he actually proposed is just 🥺🥺🥺)

Warmth spreads throughout him at your words, at the domesticity of it all, at the thought that he could do this with you for the rest of his life, at the knowledge that it’s something he wants.

and another thing!! that i love about him!! is his honesty and sincerity!! in january 2015 | 00:00, hajime tells reader that he loves her, and she doesn't say it back yet. but that's okay with him.

He knows how he feels, knows that you’re worth waiting for, worth fighting for. Even if you don’t know how you feel just yet, he can wait. All that matters is that he gets to share any part of his life with you, he gets to be a source of happiness for you.

it shows what kind of love he has and how sincere it is that he's willing to wait even without hearing it back yet, that he just needs to let her know even if she doesn't know how she feels herself. where!!! will you ever find!! someone as understanding as he!!!

i also love that you show how much of a caretaker he is!! (acts of service king indeed...) when reader gets sick in september 2017 | 15:39, i love that you make him endure the heat, that he holds her despite how uncomfortable it is because there's no way he's leaving her to deal with it on her own (just like he promised!!!). he even hums songs to get her to sleep!! (godzilla too 😭) AND!! perhaps!! the thing i can respect him the most for, is when he chooses her over the urgency of her mother's email. even though he must have been itching to see what it was!! to make an effort to prove himself!! he chose to prioritise her 🥺 the fact that he turned dnd on his phone too 🥺 UUUGH

another thing i love about how you characterised hajime is the fact that he respects tradition enough to still want to have a good relationship with reader's parents, even though reader herself doesn't see much point in it. (june 2018 | 21:27 (PST) 01:27 (ART)) how he even increased communication with her mom and how he's determined to get her father's blessing again (again???!). sure it must've been wrong for him to hide the correspondence from reader but to a degree, i get him 🥺 and just!! he's trying 🥺

and of course!! the fact that he remains steadfast, especially to his promise (november 2018 | 09:45)

He has no intention of returning alone. He’ll fight tooth and nail for you, for this relationship. Even if you two are… in a tough place, right now, he’s not going anywhere.

which he gets to fulfill later on, in the end 🥺 when he proposes 🥺 which is. just as sweet as it is simple. and i love that he proposed that way 🥺 it's such a him thing, i think. no extravagance, but full sincerity 🥺 full honesty 🥺 i am so 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

++ dynamics with other characters

apart from all of this, i really loved reader and oikawa's relationship too 🥺 love that hajime sides with reader 🥺🥺 love that reader also loves to mess with oikawa 🥺 i truly believe that iwaoi is a package deal 😭 and that being with either of them almost immediately means signing up for the other in some way, shape, or form 🥺 the fact that reader gets along with him so well just adds on to the feeling that she fits in so well into hajime's life 🥺 'get our man in check' in april 2014 | 19:10 is sooo him and i love the idea that hajime is shared property sdfsdk.

i also love that despite all his goofiness, oikawa continues to be a source of support for the both of them 🥺 i love that they're both able to confide in him, and that he takes good care of reader when hajime knows he isn't in the position to 🥺 there's so much trust there!! and i just!! adore it 🥺

to close this very long and winded ramble,

thank you so much for writing this ix!! literally my favourite hajime fic that i consistently go back to time and time again 🥺 something about this just keeps it anchored in my heart, and whether it's the story itself, the relatability of it all, or the characterisations and dynamics, i know it's all because of you and the way you so artfully pieced everything together in your writing 🥺

AO3 | Fic Page | NSFT 18+ | Playlist (🎵)

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work anywhere. Do not mention me or my work on Tik-Tok.

Relationship: Iwaizumi Hajime x F!Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ (timestamp 16) Content Warnings: POV Iwaizumi Hajime, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Long-Distance Relationship, Miscommunication, Friends to Lovers, Oikawa is a good friend, Reader is at least 2 inches shorter than Iwa, Iwa goes to California for Grad work Summary: It takes you 24 hours to fall in love and he's certain he can wait until you do. Word Count: 10,000 Tagging: @izzabeean

A/N: I'm re-posting the first Haikyuu!! fic I completed prior to my release of two additional pieces for upcoming collabs 🙃 I had planned on releasing this chapter by chapter, but I want this to pre-date my first collab piece (tomorrow) and Tumblr has a vendetta against me in the tags.

This takes place between 2011-2019. This contains manga spoilers for Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and [briefly] Kuroo.

March 2011 | 10:24

➸ The gymnasium is loud with cheers for Seijoh after their match against Ogi Nishi. Oikawa waves to his adoring fangirls, vying for his attention from the spectator’s seats. Just as Iwaizumi is about to hit Oikawa, prevent his head from getting any bigger, he catches sight of you.

You’re staring with mild intrigue, not at Oikawa, but at Iwaizumi. He feels his face heat up at the attention, unused to receiving any when Oikawa’s around. You smile before Seijoh clears the court for the following team. He shakes it off, figuring he’s never going to see you again, not when the following team is Shiratorizawa, not when there are other people to look at.

But he’s wrong. As they make their way to watch their next opponent, waiting for the next match, you approach. Matsukawa and Hanamaki both point you out, suggesting that you’re one of Oikawa’s fangirls, trying to catch the setter when he’s free from female attention, but Iwaizumi knows better.

You ignore Oikawa’s charm, ignore both Matsukawa and Hanamaki, ignore everyone who isn’t Iwaizumi. Pulling out a notebook, you scribble your number and your name before tearing out that page, folding it in half, and passing it to Iwaizumi.

“Good luck,” you wish him as you leave them, walking towards your team, who are waiting for you just around the corner.

He looks over that folded piece of paper so much that he has your number memorized before the next match starts.

June 2011 | 17:43

➸ “Iwaizumi! You’re supposed to let me pay this time!” you whine as he holds your wallet out of reach before paying for the ramen.

He laughs, grateful that the other second-years weren’t able to make it to the restaurant, even if you two will be joining them afterward. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

The two of you sit at your table and he’s struck by the way that the sun perfectly illuminates you, accentuating the contours of your face. There’s laughter in your eyes and your smile is absolutely carefree, pleased to be in his presence.

He’s tried pushing it down, the light fluttering in his chest when you look at him like that, when you text him after school, when you tease, joke, and brighten the world around you.

Despite the fact that both of you have full schedules, you always manage to find an hour here or there to spend with friends. It’s exceptional, the way you fit into his life as though you had always been there.

“Are you ready for the prelims?” you ask, licking your lips at the sight of the food before you.

“As ready as we’re going to be,” he admits. “And you?”

“We’re gonna win! One game at a time, ya know?” The smile you offer is infectious, so much that he can’t help but wonder whether that’s the reason the ramen is better than it usually is.

He isn’t expecting it when you say, “I have faith that you guys will win and move forward! I just hope I get to watch.” It’s small, inconsequential, but that doesn’t stop the blush from forming, the shared hope that you’ll be there to watch, and that he can watch you in return.

December 2011 | 06:51

➸ A soft yawn escapes you before you lean on him, resting your head on his shoulder. Oikawa, wrapped in a thick blanket in addition to his winter coat, walks up behind you two, taking his place on Iwaizumi’s left side.

“You don’t get to yawn,” Oikawa chastizes you, voice thick with sleep and a hint of playfulness. “This was your idea in the first place.”

“Maybe so, but you agreed to come along,” you lilt, leaning forward to get a better look at Oikawa. He sticks his tongue out in response, narrowly dodging Iwaizumi’s fist.

“No fair, Iwa-chan! You’re nicer to her than you are to me!”

“I thought we came here to watch the last sunrise of the year, not to waste time bickering,” Iwaizumi complains, though he doesn’t mind the light squabble.

“We did, Iwa-chan,” you say through your yawn. “Can’t you feel it? The change?”

He turns to look at you, noticing the hope that bubbles beneath the warmth of your eyes. You meet his gaze briefly, though the second that you do seems to last a lifetime. There’s something about you that makes him feel achingly alive. Something he wants to explore, something he wants to cherish.

Your fingers graze his hand, sending a jolt of electricity through him, one that’s exacerbated by the shy manner in which you look away, almost embarrassed by such familiarity. Cute. Almost as though you haven’t made time for him at least three times a month since you slipped your number into his hand, as though you haven’t brightened his days with a simple text.

“This year is gonna be great,” you whisper. “Even for you, Crappykawa. We’re all gonna work hard and we’re gonna make it to Tokyo.”

Oikawa whines at your use of Iwaizumi’s nickname, whines at the chuckle that ripples through his friend. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“Mean to you? I just told you that you’re gonna make it to nationals this year!”

“Did you have to call me crappy, though?”

You don’t answer, attention pulled to the sky before you. That cold winter grey is overpowered by the sun, bringing light hues of blues, pinks, and purples into view. He feels it—the change that you asked about. He wonders whether that’s the only change that 2012 promises.

May 2012 | 12:16

➸ It's a miracle, really, with the compact schedules of both the Aoba Johsai girl’s volleyball club and your volleyball club that you were able to schedule a practice match.

While he hasn’t been able to properly watch one of your matches like you have his, he’s managed to grab recordings, praising you for your technique, your cunning on the court. This? This is something else.

“Is she even real?” Hanamaki asks after you made a ridiculous set to the MB after your setter got first touch.

“That is rather impressive,” Oikawa comments, leaning over the banister in an attempt to get a better look. “I wouldn’t have expected it from her.”

You’re moving better than you usually do, making the most of your position as opposite hitter—easily filling the space left by your libero in their absence while making yourself available to your setter when needed.

Seijoh’s coach calls for time and your eyes immediately find his, telling him that you’ve been completely aware of his presence. Your grin is wide and mischievous, dropping only when you turn your attention back to your team.

“We aren’t looking good here, guys,” Hanamaki remarks, pointing at the scoreboard. It’s true—you’re currently wiping the floor with Seijoh—but he’s aware, more than any of the others, of how much time you’ve put in with your team.

His phone chimes and he’s lightweight surprised to see your name next to the text claiming he’s your good luck charm, requesting that he stays till the end of practice if possible.

It’s easy to comply, easy to give you what you want. Not even an hour later, he meets you at the entrance to the gym.

You have that post-win glow and excess energy that makes him think you could keep going for another three hours. He sees it in you—that promise you had made at the start of the year, that drive to make it to nationals. He hopes you see it in him, too. They’re going to Tokyo in January. You will, too.

When he asks why you wanted him to stop by—not yet acknowledging that he’s late to his own practice—you respond with a soft smile.

“I just like seeing you. You’re my good luck charm, after all. I’ll bring by some fruit after I’ve had a chance to clean off, okay?”

He plays better during practice and he thinks that, maybe, you’re his good luck charm, too.

July 2012 | 20:35

➸ They should be going home but they can’t. Not yet. Ever since their most recent defeat at the hands of Shiratorizawa, they’ve been training harder, pushing themselves further, determined to do better in October.

He knows that he should temper this side of the team, that he should do more to get them to rest, to avoid overexerting themselves, but the sting of defeat—even a month later—hasn’t left them.

For whatever reason, he’s felt ashamed to admit defeat to you, though you were there and you know. Your game was held at the same time as his, except you won. It’s the first game of his that you were unable to watch, the first time that you weren’t there in the audience. Since then, he’s struggled with talking to you.

“Oi! What the hell, guys?” you call from the entrance, startling the third and second years still there. “Makki! You said practice ended an hour ago!”

He doesn’t like the feeling that rises in his chest at the knowledge that you’ve still been texting his friends, doesn’t like the idea that they’re keeping in contact with you when he’s failed to do so. He especially doesn’t like the cheery way that Crappykawa calls out to you with a sickly sweet nickname that doesn’t elicit a negative reaction from you.

“Come on, guys. I was going to take you out for Tōru-chan’s birthday!” Your pout is fake and you don’t hesitate to start helping put everything away, even if this isn’t your gym and isn’t your practice. Just for tonight, it’s like they have a manager.

It only makes his guilt worse and you do nothing to ease it as you approach him in the storage closet.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” It’s not an accusation, not an angry confrontation for such a slight like he’s sometimes seen with Oikawa’s fangirls. It’s a statement. The truth. At least he doesn’t deny it. When you ask why he tells you. “Iwa-chan. I think no less of you for the results of that match.”

When he doesn’t look at you, you grab his hand, demanding his attention. “Please come back. I miss you.”

After the gym is cleaned and the second-years are booted, you leave with the third-years to the restaurant you had in mind. If anyone notices the way your fingers intertwine with his on the walk, no one says a thing. And each time he risks a glance your way, he sees the shy smile that graces your lips, sees the slight discoloration of your cheeks.

It’s then he realizes just how deep he is.

September 2012 | 01:02

➸ You’ve been texting him nonstop, miserable during your friend’s birthday celebration. Some event in Tokyo that’s fine with 18-year olds, something that has your friends dancing, disappearing into the crowd if you take your eyes off them for too long.

He’s stayed up the entire time, worry eating at him despite your constant updates. You send pictures to accompany the texts, showing off your outfit, the venue, the city. In the ones that feature you, there’s often an edge to your smile, the sparkle in your eye absent. The reaction shots you send him are genuine, featuring a smile that he wants to think is just for him.

The last time you had texted him, however, was almost twenty minutes ago. His anxiety is through the roof, interrupted by a phone call.

“Iwa-chan?” your voice is broken, small. He immediately goes to worse-case-scenario, thinking that you’ve been attacked, that you’re hurt and six hours away.

“Iwa-chan? Are you there?”

“I’m here. Are you okay?”

The event is loud, still raging in the background, even at this time. It’s hard to tell if you’re sniffling or if he’s imagining things, projecting his fears on you.

“Ah… I’m fine, physically. Just… a little emotionally exhausted. I’m heading back to the hotel by myself right now and I just really want to hear your voice.”

“What’s going on? Where are your friends?”

“They’re still out. I have the keys, but I’m not trying to stay out with vomit on my pants.”

“I’m sorry—what?”

“Yeah. I went to the bathroom and some girl was sobbing and obviously drunk. When I tried to slip past her, she blew chunks. All over my leg.”

“That… sounds awful,” he says, a relieved chuckle leaving him.

“It is.” He can almost hear your pout, almost see the way it’s set on your lips. “Agh. Remind me why I agreed to come out with them?”

“Because you’re a pushover?”

“Hey! I am not! I’m just nicer to my friends than you are yours!”

“I’m nice to you, aren’t I?” Though that may be unrelated.

“Tch. I guess.”

“You guess?” he teases. “I could hang up and let you walk back to the hotel by yourself.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he agrees with a chuckle. “How’s the city otherwise?”

“It’s… nice. Busy. Maybe if the circumstances were different, I’d enjoy it more.”

“Don’t you visit each summer for that training camp?”

“Ah, not really. It’s the suburbs, not the city. The weather’s a little nicer, but I might as well still be in Miyagi if not for the better teams.”

The sound of the city disappears, indicating that you must be inside the hotel. He hears the soft chime of the elevator and assumes that you’re keeping silent to avoid your voice carrying.

“I’m here,” you confirm. “Do you… never mind.”

“No. What is it?”

You sigh, sounding unsure, but relent. “I was going to ask if you would mind allowing me to shower before I called you back. But it’s late. You should be asleep.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Whatever you need.”

You’re silent, appreciating his words, before giving him a heartfelt, “Thank you, Hajime.” Your small token of gratitude has managed to steal the breath from his lungs, managed to fill his heart, managed to wake him up. Ten minutes later, you call again, talking about everything and nothing until you fall asleep on him.

He starts to toy with the idea of properly asking you out when you mumble his name in your sleep.

November 2012 | 23:53

➸ It’s a text just before midnight, the small plea for him to come outside, knowing that he’s still awake.

He had only recently returned home, staying out with the third-years in an attempt to finish on a high note, though the bitter truth came crashing down nonetheless. Just as before, he’s hesitant to show this side to you, worried about what you would think of him.

Your team won today. You’re moving to the next round, facing off against an incredibly tough opponent. All the same, his feet carry him to the front door, hand turning the knob without conscious thought.

In your hands is a thick, insulated bag, protecting its contents from the cold. Your expression is hopeful, albeit solemn. Instead of resting, preparing for the finals, you’re here, wanting to console him. It makes him ache with yearning, ache with annoyance.

Are you here because you pity him? Because he lost, unable to make that last spike count? Are you here because you want to celebrate your win? And what the hell are you doing here anyway? You have a responsibility to your team and you’re here instead.

“I brought you agedashi tofu. I, uh, I made it myself. I’m not the greatest cook, but I think it should be good. If you don’t like it, I could take you out to a proper restaurant or you could disown me. Whatever works best for you,” you ramble, anxiety coloring your words.

That’s all it takes for all of his frustrations and grievances of the day to wash away, for him to push aside all negativity and appreciate what you’ve done. That’s all it takes for the reality of the day, of their loss, of your presence here, of his feelings for you to hit him with the force of a train.

A small gasp escapes you as he wraps his arms around you, surprised at the blatant expression of affection initiated by him, surprised that he had closed the distance so quickly.

“Thank you.” It comes out in a whisper, almost like a reverent prayer of gratitude mumbled into your hair.

“Always, Hajime.”

January 2013 | 13:00

➸ The last text you were able to send was three hours ago. He’s watching the semi-finals on his phone, noting every receive, every serve, every spike, every set. Pride fills his chest as he watches you and your team move as one, almost as though he's watching the push and pull of the waves.

The other team is tough, one that makes it to nationals regularly, but you guys are putting up a good fight. The captain of the opposing team tries to get an off-the-partial block, taking advantage of the fact that your libero isn’t on the court. You leap, ensuring that her play doesn’t go unanswered.

Your receive connects, sending the ball back to your setter who’s able to pull off a quick attack. It's clear when your ankle rolls, when you stumble, that you've most likely sprained the joint.

His heart stutters as you try to push yourself up, try to ignore the injury, try to continue playing. Of course, you would. You’re so fucking obstinate, so fucking devoted to your team that there isn’t a part of you that you wouldn’t sacrifice for them, for the chance to play again.

Your coach subs you out, making certain to have your manager escort you to receive medical attention. As soon as the cameras are off of you, as soon as you’re out of sight, he minimizes the video and shoots you a text.

It’s not the comfort he wishes he could provide, but it’s the best he can do from well over 300 kilometers away.

It’s another twenty minutes until you respond with a phone call. There’s pain in your voice and he isn’t entirely certain whether it’s your ankle or the narrow loss of the match. Either way, he listens, only interrupting when your comments turn critical of your performance, reminding you that you did everything you could.

He tells you everything he needed to hear when he lost months ago, commending you for making it to Tokyo, promising to take you out for ramen when you return.

Before you end the call and return to your team, he overhears one of your teammates ask who you’re on the phone with.

“Go away, Nomi! ... I'll be right there! ... It’s my Iwa-chan, not that it’s any of your business! ... Yeah, yeah, tell coach that I'm coming.”

The hint of possessiveness in your tone as you declare him your Iwa brings an involuntary smile to your face that's impossible to remove.

“Your Iwa-chan?” he teases lightly, wanting to hear it again.

“Shut up, Hajime,” you bite back, clearly flustered. “I’ll text you when I’m back in Sendai, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

March 2013 | 18:12

Maybe he’s being selfish, telling you now, or perhaps it’s cowardice.

Waiting until graduation to make a move? It’s not much time until you’re both away at university—something the two of you have surprisingly not talked about—and he isn’t certain whether he’s on the cusp of telling you because it gives him an out if you reject him or if it’s a guarantee that you’re his despite the distance. Not to mention his plans for potentially studying abroad like Oikawa, potentially leaving you here. Even if that’s a couple of years away and he doesn’t know your answer yet, that’s still simultaneously not enough and too much time. It honestly depends on your answer.

There’s something between you two, that much is undeniable, but he’s concerned that he’s waited too long. It’s been two years since you passed him your number, two years since you made the first move. But things are… different, right?

He’s important to you—one of the first people you call when you are in a bind, when you have good news to share, when you just want to talk. You’re attentive enough to offer comfort if he needs it, picking up on the most minute details that indicate something’s amiss. He never really thought that he needed something like that until you came along.

“Hajime?”

Turning, he finds you approaching from behind. Your hair is carefully done and you’re dressed to the nines, clearly meant to be somewhere else right now. It’s immediate—he feels as though you belong to a completely different world, one out of his reach. But your smile is warm, inviting, something that you give to him and him alone.

“You look nice,” he blurts out, flustering you both. “Are—do you have someplace to be right now?”

“Ah, technically,” you say, waving away the concern of your evening itinerary. “You’re more important.” The way that statement rolls off your tongue is astounding, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, as though those three words haven’t stopped his heart.

“I, uh—” Shit. Of all the times when his brain could have short-circuited, why now? “I had something I wanted to tell you.”

His heart is pounding in his chest and concern flashes across your face, picking up on his nervousness.

“Hajime—” The ringing of your phone cuts you off and he encourages you to answer it, encourages you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts. “Mom? … I’ll be there soon, I promise. … Wait. What? … Are you serious? I did?! … I, ah, yeah! I’ll be there soon. I’m visiting with — yeah. Thank you!”

The exuberance that rolls off of you is infectious as you turn to him, eyes bright and full of pure, unadulterated joy. Until they aren’t.

“What’s wrong?”

“I—I received my acceptance letter.”

“That’s great! Where are you going?”

“California. I got accepted to an accelerated academic program offered by UCLA. I’ll be leaving in three weeks.”

Just like that, everything changes.

October 2013 | 16:20 (JST) 00:20 (PST)

➸ He’s running late—really late. He should have called you two hours ago but he got caught in a meeting with his academic advisor regarding his plans for UC Irvine. It’s well past midnight in California, but your hours have been all over the place with your academic schedule.

Shooting you a text, he hopes you’re asleep, hopes that you’re taking care of yourself. That doesn’t stop the wave of relief from flooding his being when you text back, telling him to call you.

“Hajiiii~” you whine as soon as the call goes through. “If I have to write one more essay on Machiavelli, I might die.”

“Machiavelli? Why do you have to study political theory if you’re pre-med?”

“Stupid UCLA and their degree requirements.” Your pout is apparent, even from over 8,800 kilometers away. He hears the exhaustion and exasperation in your tone, but he hears the happiness, too.

“Well, you’re smart enough that I’m sure you’ll be done soon.”

“Thanks, Haji,” you chirp.

“You wanna tell me what you’re still doing up? It’s midnight, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I miss hearing your voice.” It’s a small admission, one that doesn’t fail to make him smile. “Oh! And I was able to get in contact with Utsui’s assistant. I know you look up to him.”

“Really? That’s so cool! Wait—why were you reaching out?”

“There’s a physical therapy course that he’s offering in the winter and I need instructor permission before my advisor will agree to me taking a course from another UC. I really hope I get the chance to work with him while I'm here.”

He still hasn’t told you that he plans on going to Irvine to study under Utsui, that he’ll be joining you in Southern California. Honestly? He wants it to be a surprise. He listens to you tell him about your day, talking about everything and nothing, stays on the phone with you until he hears nothing but soft snores.

Before he discontinues the call, he hears you mumble, "My Hajime."

February 2014 | 07:41

➸ Steady knocking interrupts him as he prepares for the day, making him wonder whether he had plans that had gone forgotten. Pulling open the door, he’s surprised to see you.

His first thought is that he hasn’t woken up—he must still be asleep. But when he dreams of you, it’s of how you looked before you left. Your hair is different and you’re a little taller than you were when you left, but your smile is the same, one that you wear just for him.

“Hiya,” you trill, lifting your arms, revealing a box with his name etched on its top. “I’ve been working on perfecting this recipe for the last couple of months, so I hope you like them. If not, well, I’m in Japan until Saturday night.”

Without thinking, he pulls you into a tight embrace, all too eager to surround himself with nothing but you. Your arms wrap around him before you nuzzle into his neck, bringing him impossibly closer.

“I missed you,” you whisper. “I missed you so much.”

He wants to tell you that he’s missed you, that there’s not a fucking day that you don’t invade his thoughts. He wants to ask you to stay with him, to let him shower you with pent-up affection, to let him whisk you away to some secluded corner of the world for just the two of you, but he sticks with, “Stay with me this weekend?”

“As long as you want,” you promise.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmurs. “Shit. How am I ever going to match this for White Day?”

“I don’t care. So long as I get to spend time with you now, I’m happy.” As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, he presses his lips to yours. For a moment, he’s certain that he’s crossed a boundary, certain that you’re going to turn around and go back to California. Then you pull him closer, returning his kiss with a satisfactory little hum.

If he wasn’t in deep before—and he was—then he has gotta be at the bottom of the fucking Mariana Trench at this point.

April 2014 | 19:10

➸ “Hajime?” you ask as soon as he enters your apartment. The aroma of your favorite taqueria fills the small space while you rummage through the kitchenette. “You wanna tell me why Oikawa texted me to, and I quote, ‘Get our man in check?’”

Iwaizumi laughs, knowing exactly what sparked this reaction in Oikawa.

“I didn’t realize that when I agreed to date you that you were already in a relationship,” you tease as you finish setting the table.

“Shut up,” he replies with a chuckle, making his way through the apartment as though it’s his.

“Make me.”

Your smile turns mischievous as he approaches you like a predator hunting its prey. Standing before you, the difference in height is exaggerated as you tilt your head up, maintaining eye contact.

His hand comes to cup your jaw before he leans in, kiss leaving you breathless, grasping at his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you standing.

You pull back slightly, adoration visible in your eyes. “So? Are you going to tell me what you did to warrant an angry text from Oikawa?”

“OH! Yeah, you’ll never guess who I ran into today!”

“You… ran into someone? From Miyagi?!” you ask incredulously.

“Not just someone. Ushiwaka.” He laughs at your startled expression, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Yeah! His dad is Utsui Takashi. We actually talked after I got the chance to meet him. Before we parted, I took a picture with him and sent it to Oikawa to rub it in.”

“Well… shit.” You glance around the apartment as his words sink in, only for your eyes to settle on the food that’s still waiting. “Oh. Why don’t you go get comfortable and tell me about your day after we eat? I can’t wait to hear all about your day!”

Warmth spreads throughout him at your words, at the domesticity of it all, at the thought that he could do this with you for the rest of his life, at the knowledge that it’s something he wants.

June 2014 | 04:29

➸ After ten hours, he’s here. His muscles are stiff from having been seated for so long but seeing you waiting for him beyond security makes his heart leap, gives him a small boost of energy. You’re rubbing the sleep from your eyes, waiting patiently with a pleased smile.

As soon as he’s past the threshold, you reach for his duffle and he swats your hands away.

“Hajime,” you pout, “let me carry something!”

“Not a chance, doll.” He’s tired enough that he doesn’t think about it when you pull on his free arm, draping it around your shoulders while pulling him close, being far more affectionate than the two of you would be at the Sendai airport.

“What do you have planned for us?” he asks as you direct him out of the air-conditioned building, the cool, humid air stagnant in the parking structure.

A hum builds in your chest as you consider his schedule for this trip. “Let’s get some sleep first, then I’ll take you out to eat, yeah?”

“Ah, a woman after my own heart.” You curl into him, bringing yourself as close as you can before you two approach your car.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet, not until you see what else I have in store for you, birthday boy.” Stretching, you press your lips to his cheek and pull away to open the trunk of the car.

Honestly, he could give two shits about receiving anything else, about doing anything more for his birthday. Being here with you is enough. He’s so close to achieving his goals and you’re right here with him for it all. There isn’t anything more he could ask for.

January 2015 | 00:00

➸ New Years’ in California is much warmer than he’s used to, but it’s better than not seeing you at all for end-of-year celebrations. While the two of you participated in typical Japanese traditions, there’s one western tradition that you wanted to do with him.

The entire city seems to be alight with energy and the countdown to midnight seems to echo throughout. You’re standing on the balcony with Iwaizumi, looking out to the city while the television inside calls it out.

Just before the countdown reaches zero, you turn to face him, only to find that his eyes are already on you. How could they not be when you’re the most beautiful being around?

You kiss him, pulling him close and allowing for him to get drunk on you—the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips, the taste of you on his lips, your scent that overwhelms him, clouds his mind, clearing any coherent thought that is not you.

His hold on you tightens, not ready to let go—not that he’s ever going to be ready to let you go—and you melt in his touch. He rests his forehead against yours, the giddy smile on his face refusing to go away. Then again, you’re in the same boat.

“Apparently, it’s said that if you don’t get a kiss at midnight, you’ll be alone and without love for the remainder of the year,” you whisper conspiratorily.

“Even if we had the entire ocean between us tonight, that wouldn’t be your fate,” he admits softly. It’s the closest he’s ever gotten to saying it, though you have to know by now, right? You look almost shocked, pleasantly so, before you nuzzle your face in his neck.

He knows how he feels, knows that you’re worth waiting for, worth fighting for. Even if you don’t know how you feel just yet, he can wait. All that matters is that he gets to share any part of his life with you, he gets to be a source of happiness for you.

April 2015 | 08:38 (JST) 16:38 (PST)

➸ Three months of hits and misses with you are really starting to wear thin.

It shouldn’t. He knows that it shouldn’t. He knows that you’re finishing up your accelerated undergrad program. He’s stepped up his own academic schedule to return to California sooner.

He knows better than anyone how insanely busy that makes a person, and you’re doing more than he is.

But he misses you more than he’s expressed—and he’s expressed a lot. He didn’t realize how much of a constant in his life you had become, not until he couldn’t talk to you like he used to, not until the sixteen-hour time difference really started to get to you both.

Even with all of that, it’s frustrating considering that he can still touch base with Oikawa more often. It’s frustrating that he’s an ocean away.

All that being said, his promise from New Year’s still rings true. His love for you hasn’t wavered, hasn’t changed in the least. It’s just… frustrating not being able to touch you, hardly being able to talk to you.

So the second his phone starts to ring, he decides he can skip this class.

“Hajime,” you say as soon as the call goes through, hushed almost like a prayer. If it is a prayer, it’s one he’ll gladly answer again and again. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, doll. More than you can imagine.”

“I dunno—I can imagine a lot,” you laugh lightly, but he can still tell your smile doesn’t quite hit the same.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“You mean outside of me missing you terribly? No. I’m just exhausted. I met with my academic advisor a half hour ago.”

“How'd it go?”

“Next quarter will be the last of my undergrad. I have to take the MCAT in June, but I’m on track to start my medical degree this autumn. Then four more years till I can come back home.” There’s something in your voice, some small insecurity, some small fracture that pains him.

“Is everything okay?”

“I—yeah. No. I don’t know.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Ask for anything, please, and he’ll give it.

“Stay on the phone with me?”

“Of course.”

August 2015 | 03:46

➸ He can’t get enough of you—not like this. It’s been eight fucking months since he’s been able to hold you, since he's been able to touch you. You’re here now and he can’t keep his hands to himself.

Your nails dig into the taut muscle of his shoulders, desperate to pull him closer, eagerly attaching your lips to the column of his throat when he gives you what you want, teeth grazing over his pulse point. The soft expletives that leave his mouth seem to spurn you on, seem to increase your hunger for him.

He loves you like this—open and exposed, something just for him. No one else gets to see you like this, gets to experience you like this. This is for him and him alone and he’ll revel in every second you grant him.

Capturing your lips with his, the kiss is messy, frenzied as he works his hand between you both. He swallows your moan, fingers circling your swollen clit, causing you to clench around him. You break away from the kiss with a high-pitched intake and a glossed-over expression.

“Oh, fuck, Hajime,” you breathe, voice breathy and barely there, “fuckfuckfuck—just like that.”

“Yeah? My pretty girl likes that?” You bite your tongue to withhold the whine that’s building up and he’s quick to put an end to that. “I wanna hear my girl when she comes.”

That’s all it takes to push you over the edge, for your gummy walls to close around him so tight that he has to stop, for you to scream his name as tears fall from the corners of your eyes.

Beautiful.

“Fuck, I love you,” he mutters in between thrusts, chasing his own orgasm. It isn’t until the soft gasp that escapes you that he realizes what he said. Your eyes are wide, questioning, almost hopeful before you pull him back to your lips, kissing him as though your life depends on it. He comes, orgasm washing over him, pulling away from your eager lips so he can breathe.

Taking a moment to catch his breath after pulling out, he presses his weight against you, head resting on your chest, ear just above your heart. You run your fingers through his hair as the last couple of minutes play in his mind.

“I meant it. It’s not just a sex thing,” he murmurs into your skin. Your fingers cease their movements and he hears the slight increase in your heartbeat, but you say nothing. Instead, you pull him up by his face and give him a kiss so sweet he wonders whether he’ll have a cavity when this is over.

You don’t say it back, but he doesn’t need to hear it. Just you knowing how he feels will be enough.

February 2016 | 14:28

➸ “Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks, frustration and hurt dripping from his tone.

“I don’t understand why it matters! They have no bearing on our relationship!”

“They’re your parents! I’m your boyfriend. I should know if they don’t like me,” he argues, unable to look away from your defiant expression.

It shouldn’t be like this, you two shouldn’t be arguing. Not now, not when he had come out to spend Valentine’s day with you. If he hadn’t been getting ready in your bedroom, he doubts that he would have heard your parent’s unannounced visit, doubts he would have heard the conversation not meant for him.

And fuck if it doesn’t sting—the truth of your parent’s opinion of him as your romantic partner, the fact that you kept it from him, the dismissal of that little dream that had been forming in his mind. And you don’t get it. You don’t understand how fucking much this hurts.

“They don’t get to decide who I’m with! For fuck’s sake, Iwa! The only two people who matter in this relationship are you and me! Everyone else can go fuck off,” you spit and he hears your hurt with the explicit reduction in his name. He can't even pretend that it doesn't pain him—the fact that you called him 'Iwa' instead of 'Haji' or 'Hajime,' or the fact that you're suffering, too.

“They threatened to cut you off financially. It’s not as though you can afford to stay here without them.”

“My entire life they’ve dictated what I do, where I go, who I see. Befriending you was the first choice I made on my own and I’m not giving that up for them. If they wanna cut me off, then so be it.”

His breath catches in his throat as your declaration rings in the air, giving you an opportunity to say something he wishes you didn’t.

“If this is a deal-breaker for you—my parents not liking you—then so be it. I’m not forcing you to be in a relationship with me, nor am I going to try to get you guys to get along. I’m tired of doing everything I can for a modicum of their approval.”

The fire that burned through you is gone now as though a bucket of water was dumped over you both, leaving nothing but an icy chill blowing through the room.

He closes the distance between you two, eyes never leaving yours, seeing the depth of your fear and your insecurity.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises quietly.

As much as he would like for you to have a positive relationship with your parents, you’re right. What matters most is that you two are happy together. Later, when emotions have simmered, you two can talk about it. Maybe then he can voice his insecurities and you can voice yours.

October 2016 | 05:50

➸ He isn’t sure where his body ends and yours begins, not that he minds. Your soft snores offer a soothing lullaby that keeps him in a state of tranquility, keeps him from getting up too early on his day off.

How—indescribable all of this is. It’s been nearly three months now, living with you in California, but he’s still in a state of disbelief.

He keeps waiting for the moment he wakes up, the shift in reality to remind him that he’s simply imagining, dreaming, hoping for this outcome. It’s too good to be true, to finally be here with you, to be one step closer to that dream of his that’s starting to solidify.

No longer is it only for him to become a physical trainer, for him to work alongside professional athletes, to push them to be their best, but now you’re in the picture beside him. Before, he hadn’t given it much thought, not truly. But now? There’s hardly a day that goes by where he doesn’t find himself thinking of the future he wants, wondering what role you’ll play in it.

True to your sentiments earlier in the year, you removed yourself from your parent’s influence, finding outside funding for your education, finding a new place to live with Iwaizumi once his graduation went through. You’ve already taken such great steps to show him that you’re serious about him, that you’re serious about the relationship, regardless of what obstacles may arise.

You shift on his chest, drawing his focus down to you. There’s the subtle change in your breathing that suggests your imminent change in consciousness and he can’t help himself when his fingers start to trail through your hair.

“Mmm,” you hum lightly. “G’mornin’, my handsome man.”

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Wriggling your way up, you press a sleepy kiss to the side of his mouth before a small yawn escapes you. He turns to press a kiss to your forehead, loving the tired look full of near reverence in your eyes.

“What’re we doing today?”

“What do you mean, ‘what are we doing today?’ You have class,” he asks, knowing you wouldn’t willingly miss a class now that you’re on an academic scholarship.

“Class is canceled. Teacher got sick. Go figure,” you mumble, reaching under your pillow for your phone. Unlocking your phone, the email is still the open tab on your phone, sent four hours ago. “We never get to do anything anymore. Why don’t we go out and experience nature?”

He chuckles at your pout, mulling over the possibility of a day hike. “I’ve been meaning to go to Joshua Tree.”

“C’mon, then! Let’s do it!” Your excitement is interrupted by a large yawn, accentuating how exhausted med school is leaving you. “Coffee first.”

“Whatever you want, doll. All you gotta do is ask and it's yours.”

Anything, anything at all.

May 2017 | 11:06

➸ He’s tired. He’s tired of the commute—nearly an hour for a distance of fewer than fifty kilometers by car, longer with public transit, longer for you. He’s tired of the cost of everything here.

He’s tired of not seeing you, tired of missed connections, of maybe—if he’s lucky—feeling you come to bed in the late hours, of waking up to leave before you. He’s tired of the bickering, of the fighting, of taking out frustrations on one another instead of talking about it with one another.

He’s exhausted, thoroughly. Completely. He misses you more than when he was 8,800 kilometers away from you.

So, when UCI offered him a position as a T.A., he took it. At least it will keep him busy while he’s missing you. At least he can help other students interested in sport sciences—well, interested enough to take courses in the subject. It gives him a prime opportunity to work more closely with Utsui outside of his own classes with him, something he’s endlessly grateful for.

The undergrads are eager to get going early—not that he can blame them—and, as the quarter started last week, he has no objections to letting them leave ten minutes early. He uses that time to check emails, making certain that no other students have any urgent inquiries, that Utsui doesn’t need him for anything else for the day.

Your text tone chimes, asking when he’ll be done with his lesson for the day. When he asks why, you respond with a simple, “Come to the parking lot.”

He isn’t expecting to see you leaning against your car with a familiar insulated bag in your hand and your book bag on your back. You look tired, just as exhausted as he feels, and a weary smile appears when he comes into view.

“Hey, there, handsome.” Your voice is heavy with the reality of the last couple of weeks, no cheer or lilt to be detected. “‘M sorry for all of the arguing. I’ve been taking things out on you and it’s not okay. I want to do better.”

“It’s not just you. I’ve done the same. We’ve both been kinda shitty.”

“Mm. That we have. I have some food from your favorite restaurant and I thought we could have a little picnic?”

“That sounds… amazing. We can do that if we talk about what’s been going on.”

Tension visibly leaves you and the smile you give him is a little lighter. “Absolutely, Hajime.”

September 2017 | 15:39

➸ You’re sick. Something small, most likely the flu, but you’re caught in a state of panic over it.

At the beginning of the month, you both had to miss school due to evacuations for the La Tuna fire, apparently the largest fire in the area for half a century. While your school had understood, you had set up meetings months ago that will determine the trajectory of your studies and your life after graduation. Meetings that were impossible to get and are appearing to be impossible to reschedule.

And now, you’re on your way to missing your third day of school this week. He understands the panic, understands the pressure you’re putting on yourself. Even if he didn’t, he doubts that he’d be doing anything else right now.

Your tears are staining his shirt while he holds you to him, keeping you close while he hums the melody of one of your favorite songs. It’s hot in this bed—between you and your fever and the blankets, he’s sure he’s melting. But it’s working and he’ll turn into a puddle before leaving you alone to deal with this.

Soon enough, your sobs turn into little sniffles and your grip in his shirt loosens. He continues to rub soothing circles on your back, continues to hum various songs until it dies down completely. It’s when you don’t complain about him humming Ifukube’s Godzilla theme that he realizes you’re asleep.

He’s gentle in laying you down, intentionally grabbing your phone and placing it on silent before noticing three missed calls from your parents. Just as he attempts to turn Do-Not-Disturb on his phone, too, he receives an email from your mother.

As much as he wants to read it and address whatever concern they may have, as much as he wants to prove that he’s worthy of being your long-term partner, he knows that you need rest above all else right now. Whatever this is, whatever they need, it can wait, at least until after you wake up and your fever breaks.

June 2018 | 21:27 (PST) 01:27 (ART)

➸ When he comes home, the apartment's dark, nearly devoid of all life, save for the dim light coming from the closed bedroom door and your muffled voice. You’ve been frustrated with him for a myriad of reasons and him being late after a tutoring session with her doesn’t help.

This underclassman who’s taken a shine to Iwaizumi, disregarding his insistence that he’s unavailable, that he has a partner—though, the term he used was fiancée. It doesn’t help that you had later popped into his section—the same that she attends—and introduced yourself as his girlfriend a week later. Not that he could blame you since he’s still working on building up the courage to propose.

He tried to shrug her off, tried to get her to switch sections with the other T.A., tried to remove her from his tutoring schedule, but his department—and the union—firmly shut him down, citing the “fulfillment of his contractual obligations.”

It only got worse when she started messaging you, when she appeared during date nights, when she had blatantly made a move with you not four meters away.

And then there’s the situation with your dad. A triple bypass surgery demanded your return to Japan last October and you haven’t spoken to your parents since. Iwaizumi, however, has increased his communications with them since your mother reached out. He wants a better relationship with them, wants your father’s blessing when he asks again, but you’re insistent you want nothing to do with them. You had found out about their correspondence when your mom had emailed you to check in, including a question about Iwaizumi’s studies.

He should be glad that you’re still here, that you aren’t sleeping at school, but he sees the papers from UCLA’s Education Abroad Program, the pamphlets for an Argentinian medical program, and an award letter from the program director. He can't help but read it, but take in the offer extended—a full-ride for a term abroad, offering you a place due to your class ranking, ignoring the fact you hadn't applied. At least, that's the impression he gets from the letter, along with the fact that he doesn't remember you bringing up EAP before.

Approaching the bedroom door, he hears your side of the conversation with Shittykawa and he has to pretend that hearing you talk to him, call him ‘Ru’ doesn’t bother him. That it doesn’t bother him to hear you cry into the phone, asking what you did wrong, asking why things are the way they are.

He leans against the wall next to the bedroom door, sliding down until he’s seated on the ground. He listens to your insecurities, to your fears, to everything you spill to his best friend because you’re afraid to tell Iwaizumi. He listens as you broach the topic of doing a semester abroad in Argentina, something that wasn't even on your radar, not with your last year about to start. He listens to you admit that it's a great opportunity, that, perhaps, it's better for the relationship if you two spend some time apart.

Not like we see much of each other anyway.

It isn’t until it hits ten in California that he realizes it’s two in the morning in Argentina, that you’re still on the phone with Oikawa, that you still don’t know Iwaizumi’s home.

November 2018 | 09:45

➸ Oikawa’s ringtone can be heard in the kitchen where Iwaizumi had left his phone. It’s been two months since you left and a week since you called. The apartment is empty without you, even if all of your belongings are here, promising your return.

For what it’s worth, Oikawa’s been really helpful, carefully listening to both sides, understanding that it’s a case of frayed nerves, miscommunication, and shitty circumstances. So Iwaizumi wastes no time answering the phone.

“Iwa-chan! How’s California?”

“The same as it was two days ago. Kinda shitty and on fire.”

“Tsk. Always such a downer. Are you sure that it isn’t the absence of—”

“Her absence is exactly why it’s shitty and you know that.”

“Hm. I suppose I do,” Oikawa muses lightly. “Are you still on track to graduate just before summer?”

“Yeah. Spoke to my advisors this past week. I could graduate in two months, if I wanted, but…” if he does, then he’ll be leaving California. Leaving you. You’re nearly done with med school, almost ready to return to Japan.

He has no intention of returning alone. He’ll fight tooth and nail for you, for this relationship. Even if you two are… in a tough place, right now, he’s not going anywhere.

“Ah. Well. She misses you. She’s wrapped her pillow with one of your old Godzilla shirts.”

He snorts at the image, at the knowledge that it was you who had taken his shirt, that he hadn’t lost it at the laundromat. “That… sounds about right, I guess. How��how is she?”

“What? She hasn’t called you?” Oikawa asks, sounding surprised. Overwhelmingly surprised.

“No? She called me last Tuesday and I haven’t really heard from her since.”

“That’s—maybe she picked up extra shifts at the clinic? I could ask when I see her tomorrow.”

“You’re gonna see her tomorrow?”

“We were gonna watch a recording of the Adlers-Black Jackal’s game. I wanna watch Ushiwaka and Kageyama lose to Shōyō! Do you want me to tell her to give you a call?”

Iwaizumi hesitates, wanting to talk to you more than anything—actually, no, he wants to hold you more than anything—but he wants it only if you’re doing it because you want to.

“Nah. It’s okay. I’ll, ah, I’ll shoot her a text. Hopefully, we’ll be able to talk today or tomorrow. Hey, listen—”

“Iwa-chan. She’ll come around,” Oikawa states, catching onto Iwaizumi’s discomfort. “It was nice chatting with you, but practice is about to start.”

“Yeah, okay. Talk to you later.”

Iwaizumi sinks into the couch, letting his mind wander over what the future holds. With his program coming to an end, will he be able to find work with the V. League? When you return, will you two be able to reconcile properly? Will you want to be a part of his future?

Before he can spend too much time dwelling on the infinite possibilities that lay ahead, he receives a text from you.

Hey. I miss you. A lot. There’s so much I want to tell you but I know you’re probably busy. Please give me a call if your schedule permits? I have two days off, starting tomorrow. I’ll be watching a recording of the Schweiden-MSBY game with Crappykawa tomorrow, but that can be paused... I miss you. I hope you’re well.

December 2018 | 02:13

➸ He had come to Japan after being contacted by the JVA thanks to Ushijima’s recommendation, not expecting to be contacted by your parents when your dad suffered a massive heart attack.

Your cousin left a bit ago to pick you up from the airport and he’s anxious, both for the outcome of the emergency surgery and to see you for the first time in months. For the first time since officially courting you, they had finally said “yes.”

It came in the form of the hospital staff asking him to leave if he wasn’t immediate family—a request made by your mother—only for your father to brokenly tell them that Iwaizumi’s their future son-in-law. To make certain, he asked one final time, adopting dogeza in deference:

“Please allow me to marry your daughter.”

All he had wanted was to do right by you, by your parents, by his. While the two of you may not be sticklers for tradition, they are. And he wants for you to have a relationship with his family as much as he would like a… cordial relationship with yours.

“Hajime.”

It’s a breath of fresh air, the first thaw of the snow as it makes way for spring, the warmth of a cackling fire after a day in the cold. A whispered devotion full of words long unsaid, full of emotions long since bottled. It’s you.

He doesn’t care for Japanese customs or propriety—if anything, he can blame it on living in California for the last couple of years. Standing abruptly, he starts in your direction, allowing for relief to wash through him, for love to fill him. Opening his arms, you readily fall into him, readily accept him, openly ignoring your cousin’s blatant disapproval of such public affection.

“I—fuck, Haji. I didn’t expect to see you here, for you to still be at the hospital! Oh, shit. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much,” you cry into his chest as tears begin to fall in earnest. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left things the way I did. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re here now. That’s what matters,” he murmurs into your hair, glad to have you so close. “I, uh, I was already planning on staying until visiting hours officially open in the morning. I don’t know what you had planned on doing, but they probably won’t let me or Michiko enter.”

You still in his arms, reading the air, understanding what Iwaizumi isn’t saying. “Is okaasan still here?”

“I believe she’s trying to sleep in your father’s room. Kicked up a nasty fuss when they tried to get her to leave,” he tells you with a humorless chuckle.

“Yeah. That sounds like her. Will… will you come with me? I don’t want to go alone.”

After spending so long without you, he doesn’t want to let go so soon, prepared to agree to anything that allows him to be close. When you get to your father’s room, he waits outside. He tries not to listen to the soft words spoken between you and your mother, but there’s one piece of dialogue that he can’t ignore.

“We approve of him. Whatever happens today, know that we approve.”

“I—I don’t know what to make of that.”

“I would hope that you would take that as our blessing, but, knowing you, you wouldn’t have cared either way,” your mother bites, releasing some of the pent-up frustration on you. After a beat, she says, “He loves you.”

“I know,” you reply, voice a little softer than before.

“Do you love him? I imagine you must, with everything you were prepared to sacrifice for him.”

You’ve never said it aloud, not to him, anyway. He never needed to hear it, never needed it to know that you care, to know that he wants to be with you for however long you’ll have him by your side.

All the same, his heart stills with your answer.

“Yeah. I do.”

August 2019 | 22:27

➸ It rained earlier and the smell of damp concrete and asphalt still lingers in the air. This part of the city is relatively quiet and the atmosphere here is tranquil. It’s quiet enough that he immediately catches the small sound of the sliding door opening.

You wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing against his back, humming when he takes your hands and presses light kisses to them before returning them to their original position.

“You’re up late,” you comment lightly, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. “Any special reason?”

“I wanted to see you, pretty girl. I have some news for you.”

“Oya?”

He snickers, remembering that guy with the rooster hair from the JVA that he had spoken with earlier in the day. “I got the job.”

“You got the job?!”

“I got the job,” he confirms with a wide smile, turning in your grip to face you. Your smile is just as wide as his, eyes shining with pride and love.

“That’s fantastic! We should celebrate!”

“Celebrate?” he asks, watching as you remove yourself from his arms to dance in the apartment, making your way to the fridge.

“Yeah! It’s not every day that a piece of your future falls into place, y’know?”

He follows you inside, watching with mirth as you continue to babble excitedly, opening a single beer for you both to share.

This. This is what he wanted. An opportunity to work with people passionate about their sport, to help keep them at their best while ensuring their safety. An opportunity to live with you in Tokyo as you continue pursuing a career in sports medicine.

“Hajime?” you ask, making him realize he missed the last minute or so of your rambling. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It is. I, uh, there’s something that’s been on my mind,” he admits, taking the beer from you, steeling himself for what he’s about to do. You watch him with a soft expression, ready to listen to whatever comes out of his mouth.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me.”

« Like A Moonbeam. | Three Choices »

[apompkwrites]

love in their own way || albedo, childe, xiao, zhongli

masterlist characters: albedo, childe, xiao, zhongli genre: fluff summary: in which their s/o's aren't as forward about their emotions, but still manage to have their little tells that express their love. notes: i hope this meets the request! i had a lot of fun writing this! i just want the boys to be happy :)

albedo -

i like to think albedo is secretly clingy but doesn't allow himself to show it to anyone.

naturally, it's just because he's always holed up with his work.

when he consciously does it... it's because he's nervous.

remember the end of his quest when he's talking to himself at dragonspine?

that's why he's nervous.

anyway!!

he's not too bothered by the fact that you're more reserved.

he has a lot of work so he can't really dwell on the idea for too long.

just you being there when he's working is good enough for him :D

as we all know, this boy is very into experimentation and learning.

so trying to decipher your minuscule facial changes is actually really interesting to him!

he has a bunch of notes just on the little details he can find about you.

and since he's so observant, it doesn't take him long to realize that there are certain signs that only appear around him.

he'll notice them when he's painting you.

whenever he's waiting for results, he'll use the time to draw you <3

because he's done this, he practically has you memorized.

so imagine his surprise when he sees your expression change whenever he leaves your sight.

it takes him a while to actually be able to see this, but i'm sure it's because of timaeus and sucrose.

after all, they're around you a lot whenever albedo is busy.

they probably take a picture to show him something they did while he was gone and that's when he notices.

he doesn't even have to look at a different picture of you.

he can just tell you look different.

the little crinkle next to your eyes was gone.

your lips were more pursed than usual.

you now had a crease in between your brows you didn't have before.

the next time he sees you, he'll hold up the picture next to your face to confirm they're different.

he wants to ask why there's a "clear" difference in your appearance but he already knows why.

he'll ask you just to be sure, though--

your cheeks get a tiny tiny bit darker when you answer wholeheartedly.

it does make him chuckle when he hears that you're so smitten for him in your monotonous voice.

the picture sucrose and timaeus took isn't his favorite of you, so he ends up taking a new one when you two are both exploring dragonspine.

it's a reminder of how much you really love him <3

childe -

out of the four boys here, he's definitely (in my opinion) the most affectionate.

like, this boy will take whatever he can get to just hold you for a second.

especially if you're also from snezhnaya but came all the way to liyue to keep him company.

he's very family-oriented as we've seen, so he treasures these relationships.

now, with an unaffectionate s/o?

honestly, i don't think he'd be too upset about it.

like i said, he really treasures these familial relationships.

because of this, it's his top priority to make sure you feel comfortable in the relationship.

he won't necessarily keep his distance, but he won't be too clingy either.

he'll stand right beside you, enough to where you can almost feel his skin touching yours.

as for your expressionlessness...

it'll take him a bit to really understand how you're feeling.

it's a lot of communication because he doesn't want to mess anything up.

near the beginning of the relationship, he'd ask how you're feeling and if there's anything bothering you.

but once he finally notices the subtle differences in your face, such as a slight eyebrow raise or a tilt of the head, he'll be able to read you easier.

nothing too complex, but just enough for him to tell your emotions.

there is one subtle change that he always looks for, however.

he's realized, with the help of zhongli of course, that there is a specific characteristic that only happens when he's in your line of sight.

your lips are normally pressed in a fine line.

however, around him, the corners lift up ever-so-slightly.

the only reason he's able to see it is that he'll catch himself staring at your lips because he wants a kiss :)

once he sees that, he starts noticing your little quirks whenever you're around him.

you'll lean closer to him as you're walking through liyue harbor.

your eyes start to soften as he talks on and on about his day (and complains about scaramouche--).

he loves the idea that all of these little details about you only happen around him,

it makes him feel... important.

and loved.

even if he holds back from touching you, he'll settle for seeing your cold exterior melt around him.

xiao -

he's not too well versed in affection...

i mean, he's the vigilant yaksha that is known for being stoic just like you are.

you two are basically carbon copies of each other.

no affection and no clear expressions of love.

people (who know both you and xiao) often forget that you two are actually together.

like, they just think you two sit in silence when you're both tired of dealing with people.

they... aren't necessarily wrong.

the two of you are often found sitting at the balcony looking over liyue.

sometimes you bring him almond tofu to share :)

it's very rare for the two of you to actively show your love for each other, mainly because you both know your feelings.

although... xiao does have those moments.

it's not like he's completely oblivious to the whispers about you two.

and on the days where his karma acts up, he gets insecure.

he's... really scared that one day you'll leave just like the others.

it doesn't matter if you're a mortal or an adeptus, he's scared that one day he'll wake up and you'll be gone.

and if that ever comes, he's scared you'll pass on either doubting your feelings or his.

it doesn't help when he notices the difference in your attitude and appearance when he's around.

his first instinct is that he's doing something bad.

either you're angry or upset at his mere existence...

verr goldet's the one who has to explain why you seem different.

she's quite observant on her own, especially because you're the first person that xiao actively enjoys being around.

she'll be the one to tell him that it isn't because you're mad at him.

you have minuscule changes because that's how xiao makes you feel.

you're so soft around him and she can tell just from the small interactions she's seen of you.

for example, when you're talking to the chef downstairs, you have the same expression that xiao has when he's talking to people.

you're annoyed but you know how to handle it.

but when you're around xiao, it's like everything that bothers you disappears.

it's like you're in your own domain whenever he's around.

nothing else matters except for him.

and even if she's relying on small observations and pure intuition, she can tell that the changes are good.

your eyes that seem to look anywhere besides the person you are talking to are completely different from the ones that seem to only focus on xiao.

your normally stiff body relaxes every time you summon xiao at the balcony.

the tiny smile that graces your lips when you disappear to the top of the inn for hours on end.

verr goldet's explanation calms his heart.

his worries seem to disappear and the next time he sees you...

this is the one thing his karma can't take away. he'll be sure of it.

zhongli -

zhongli is also another person who isn't well versed in relationships.

although he isn't as inexperienced as xiao, it'll take some time for him to figure it out.

he's not someone who craves affection like it's the only thing keeping him alive.

he definitely would appreciate it but he completely understands that it isn't something you tend to give.

so instead, he'll show his love in the smaller things.

such as telling you stories, sharing tea, going out on walks, etc.

he's another person who is very observant, especially in people close to him.

his storytelling friends often ask him about your relationship with one another.

they try to bring it to his attention that you may not be as interested as he thinks you are.

of course, he'll simply laugh them off and tell them that they should listen to the person who knows you best.

he'll turn those questions into a big story and explain how they're mistaken about you.

he's never actively told anyone this, save for hu tao who tries to bug him into telling her, but he'll tell them about all of the tiny details that tell him your feelings.

when you're feeling upset, you puff out your cheeks a small bit.

when you're angry, your glare hardens at whatever is making you mad.

when you're happy, your lips part slightly.

when you're in love... well, that's a detail he'll keep for himself.

he's quick to say goodbye to his peers, practically rushing back to your shared home.

he's greeted by you as soon as he opens the door.

your stoic expressions... would be exactly the same to anyone else.

but to him, it's like you've lit up like a small puppy seeing their human parents come home after years.

you don't run up to him, but you turn to look at him and away from the book on the table.

he'll greet you with a quiet nod, pulling out the chair and sitting next to you.

he'll take the book from you, taking in your appearance for a moment.

your shoulders relax by a hair and you move your chair an inch closer to his.

you don't lean your head on his shoulder but you lean towards him as if you were about to.

it's these moments that make everything worth it to zhongli.

here, in your home and in your life, he's simply zhongli.

the man you fell in love with and allowed your reserved self to open up to.

and he would trade anything just to have these moments with you.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 01 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

Next part (02)->

{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Sailing Into The Unknown

Walking fast, you keep up with the two Norsemen coming right behind you. Unlike the rest of your maids, who were caught hiding or trying to leave the castle, you were found in your chambers. You knew they'd find you, one way or another, and you'll have much more to gain if you keep fear and despair away from your mind.

You knew this day would come. Your father, the King, was sure of it, and so were you. The political implications of King Ecbert and King Aelle in the last years brought you to this moment. An attack was imminent, and when you were told the Vikings were once again clashing on your cost like the waves, you knew this was inevitable. The only thing you can hope now is that they'll either let you live or give you a quick death. You're a threat, that's obvious. Aethelwulf may be the heir, but you're forth in line after his two sons. And that puts you in a dangerous position.

A yelp from one of your maids gets your attention, and you give her a look. You get why they're scared. These men look like monsters to them, speaking a strange language, dressed in dark, hard material, covered in blood. And everything they were told about the Norsemen, is that they're all savages. Worse than animals, soulless. Fortunately for you, one of the few things you actually wanted to do that your father allowed was to learn the Vikings language. Ecbert taught you himself, and you feel relieved to know what they're saying.

When you reach the main hall, you're pushed to the center, near a table. The maids all stick together, trying to pull you with them as they fall to the ground, using their skirts to dry off the tears. But you stand up, looking around. The place is flooded by them, the so-called monsters. Some are chatting, laughing even. Some of them have their eyes on you and on the other ladies. There's no way to know what will happen next, but you know who's in charge here.

The legend, the man they believe to be a descendant from the Pagan god, Odin. Ragnar Lothbrok. If you want to stand a chance to get out of here alive, that's the man you need to talk to. And, as if being called, he comes from the hall, alongside two other men. He looks, at the same time, exactly how your father described, but also very different. A paradox. His eyes scan the room, and, as you make your way over him, they lay on you.

One of the men who were with him come forward, standing on your way. Looking up, you sustain his stare. “I wish to speak with Ragnar.” You say, trying not to smile at the confused expression on the man's face. Nobody here expects you to speak their language.

“Princess (Y/N).” Ragnar sings songs, and the man steps aside. He has an axe in his hand, playing with it as he comes closer to you. “I was just having a small chat with your dear father.”

“Did you kill him?” The answer is obvious, but still, you need to know. The funny expression on his face changes and he pinches his eyebrows together “My father always said that, if he had to die at all, he'd like to be killed by you.”

“Oh.” He exclaims, glancing at someone behind you. “His wish was granted.”

Nodding to yourself, you look down. You have been preparing yourself for this moment ever since the news of Ragnar's return arrived, but still, your heart sinks a little. “Alright then.” It sounds stupid to ask him to simply let you go. This won't happen. Still, you don't want to face death scared, like your maids, crying and yelling. So, standing before Ragnar, you push your hair away from your shoulders, exposing your neck. “Do it already.” With both hands on your hips, you take a deep breath.

But Ragnar doesn't move, his lips break into a smile. Slowly, he leans closer, his mouth on your ear. “What are you doing?”

“I know you'll kill me. But I don't want to go like them.” Tilting your head at your maids, you shrug your shoulders. “I don't want to be taken as a slave either. So I guess that's it, king Ragnar.” Unlike him, you keep your voice as loud as before. You don't mind being heard.

“Do you–”

Ragnar is cut off by someone's shouts. Soon enough, a man comes, being held by two of the Norsemen. When they move a little, you recognize Edward, the man you were supposed to marry in a short amount of time. He's hurt, a black eye and a wounded lip. The men throw him on the floor, and he stands on his knees. Perhaps you should pity him... But no. It may not be kind of you, but you can't pretend you feel something you don't.

“Princess (Y/N), my lady.” He mumbles, trying to get to his feet and failing. “Stay away from them.”

Ignoring him, you turn to face Ragnar again. “As I was saying, there's no other option in this situation, so you might as well get done with it.” Giving the axe a look, you raise your eyes again. “I'm ready.”

“Don't be stupid, (Y/N)! Get away from him!” Edward shouts, and you run a hand through your hair, frustrated. Even now, he still tries to tell you what to do. You're tired of being ordered around. At least in death, you want to make it on your way.

“Shut up, Edward!” You burst out, moving to stand a few feet away from him, talking in his language since, of course, he wouldn't even dream of learning the pagans tongue. “It's over, don't you see it? We're both dying today, and honestly...” Now, you can say it. You can finally say it, and you can't help but smile. You'll be dead in a minute, but you never felt so... Free. “I'm happy my fate is to die by the Vikings... That's far better than marrying you.”

When you're done talking, Edward jerks forward, too fast, managing to grab your arm with one hand and hitting your face with the back of the other. You taste blood on your mouth, falling to the ground, but easily pushing yourself back up as the Norsemen pull him back, away from you. “You little whore!” He tries to set free, but it's useless. A laugh escapes your lips. “I'm so glad you'll die today. I'm so glad you'll join your devil of a father.”

With a hand on your jaw, you stare at him, shaking your head lightly. “You call then savages, but you were the only one in this room to hit me.” Turning away from him, you return to where Ragnar stands, watching the whole commotion. “So, king Ragnar?”

You can tell he's thinking. About what, you have no idea. From what you've heard, they don't need much thought before killing someone. “I could kill you right here, princess, but this speech you just gave got me interested.” Pacing around you, he swings his axe, resting it on his shoulder. “My wife, a former princess herself, might actually like you.”

“Aslaug?” A man says, and Ragnar looks at him. Following his gaze, you see a man with blond, dirty hair, pulled back in some kind of braid. “She hates Christians. I don't see how she'll like this one.”

“Well, I've never seen a Christian act like this. Have you, Bjorn?”

“No.” The man admits, eyes finally meeting yours, just before you look away from him.

“Well, my wife has been pissing me off lately, so anything that might distract her for a bit sounds like a good idea to me.” He speaks slow, and some people laugh. “So, Princess (Y/N). I will let you chose your fate.” He's back at your face, looking down at you. “Would you rather come with me to Kattegat, or would you rather die here, with your crying maids?”

Giving the women a look, you weigh the odds. Death is final, the very end. Life is full of possibilities... But are you willing to risk it? “Would you keep me safe? I mean...” Gesturing at the other men, you sigh. “I'm sure you understand what I mean.”

“Nobody touches the princess,” Ragnar yells, his voice echoing through the walls. “Is that enough?” He asks you in a much lower voice.

“I guess it is.”

That said, he walks away. Following him with your eyes, you see as he stops by Bjorn. Bjorn Ironside, his oldest son. His name is also well known here. Ragnar tells him something before disappearing, and his son gives you a look. It doesn't take long for you to understand Ragnar told Bjorn to keep an eye on you, since, as you walk down the beach to the boats, Bjorn silently walks beside you, like a bodyguard. He helps you climb up on to the boat, a strong hand on your waist, pushing you up.

When you finally start sailing, you get an idea of their army. Too many boats, filled with far too many warriors. You can't help but make your way to the back of the boat, watching as your home grows distant. But calling it home is a compliment. This was just somewhere you lived, surrounded by people who always expected something of you. Where you were forced to act a certain way, just because you were unlucky enough to be born a princess.

What's coming now, is completely unexpected, unforeseen. If anyone ever told you you'd be sailing away from Wessex, in a Viking boat, you wouldn't believe them. But the feeling that really gets to you, leaving you utterly perplexed is that you feel... Good. Free, even. You can't even count how many times you desired you could just disappear, leave everything behind and go somewhere entirely new. Maybe you're crazy, your mind completely lost already, but you somehow find joy in it. In sailing away, into the unknown, with the very people you were taught to hate and fear.

But this is far better than what your future was holding back there. An unhappy marriage with a disgusting man. This is far better.

Days after you left Wessex, a violent storm starts falling at daybreak. The rain comes lightly at first, but by the moment you stand up, it starts pouring. One of Ragnar's friends, named Floki, stays on the edge of the boat, holding on tight with one arm, the other stretched out. He's laughing, saying things you don't quite understand the meaning of. It's about Thor, and Odin, and othter of their gods. He seems unaffected by the crashing waves. Stumbling, you leave the protection of this dark fabric they hanged above the ship, getting on your knees next to Floki. You don't know what's soaking you, the rain, or the waves, high enough to hit the boat.

“Hear this, Princess?” Floki yells, trying to make himself heard above the deafening sounds. “This is–” A huge wave hits both of you, and Floki almost falls back. But he regains his balance, laughing even louder.

“Will the boat sink?” You ask him, yelling at the top of your lungs. “I can't swim! If we sink, I'll drown.”

“So will I,” Floki answers, glancing at you before turning his attention back at the ocean. This makes you burst into laughter too because you never thought someone who can't swim would face the waves like this.

“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, and you turn around, pushing wet hair away from your face. Bjorn comes your way, grabbing both your arms and helping you stand up. “What are you doing here?”

“She's mesmerized by the powerful waves!” Another wave, hitting both you and Bjorn as well. You're knocked down, your back against Bjorn's chest. But despite the sting you fell on your leg, Floki's laughter makes you giggle. These people are crazy. Nobody on Wessex would be this happy, this carefree in such a storm.

“Come.” Bjorn pulls you with him, back to the safety of the handmade roof. He helps you settle down, and as he does, you lock eyes with him. You've never seen blue eyes like this. “Stay out of the rain.”

“Floki is in the rain. Why can't I?” You snap back, not really enjoying the bossy tone.

“Let the girl have her fun, Bjorn.” You recognize Ragnar's voice, and you find him rowing, trying to keep the boat moving despite the violent waves. There's an empty seat beside him, so, pushing yourself up, you make your way there.

“Mind if I help?”

“If you think you can.” He breathes out, and you nod, grabbing the oar. “Keep it steady... Push, then pull.” He tells you, and you mimic his movements. The thing is heavy, and it takes only a few seconds for your arms to start hurting. But you keep up, ignoring the looks you're getting. No woman would be allowed to do such thing in Wessex. So you're enjoying it, even though you're strength is nothing compared to the rest of them.

When the heavy clouds are blown away, and the sky is once again blue and serene, you bend over the edge of the boat a little, just to better see where the ocean meets the sky, on the horizon. The chaos was replaced by a low chattering, laughter, and giggles. You're mostly on our own, not really speaking to anyone but Ragnar. He's a curious man, and he's curious about you. You're not sure why though.

“Here.” A voice makes you turn around, sitting down. Bjorn offers you a cup of water, which you take and drink after muttering a ‘thank you’. When you give him the empty cup, you wait for him to walk away so you can resume your horizon watching, but instead, he settles down beside you, letting out a heavy breath. “We'll reach Kattegat in a few days.”

“Finally.” You burst out, playing with the tips of your hair. “Sick and tired of this boat already.” Chuckling, you glance at him. He's already staring. “So... Bjorn Ironside. What are you doing talking to a Christian? People here don't really seem to be fond of me.”

“The truth is they're trying to figure you out.” Bjorn lowers his voice, and your eyes scan through the men. “Ever since you stood up with your neck exposed to my father's axe.”

It doesn't seem much of a big deal to you. “I just didn't want to die like those other girls. Whining and crying.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. “I mean, I really thought there would be no other way, so I'd face death with some dignity.”

“Don't tell anyone I said this but...” He leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. “You kinda sounded like a Viking right now.” Then, he stands up and leaves, back to his chores.

You're confused, to say the least, but you guess that was a compliment coming from a Viking himself. Taking a deep breath, you move to where you were, staring at the calming waves.

And Bjorn was right. Eight days after, you're arriving at Kattegat. The many boats stop at the decks, and yours is one of the first. There's a sea of people here, waiting for their loved ones. As you step out of the boat, you don't really know where to go. Everyone is hugging, kissing, telling about the successful raid. You just start walking then, following the flow until you feel someone grabbing your arm. “This way,” Bjorn says, tilting his head at where his father is going. “He wants to introduce you to Aslaug.”

The Queen who hates Christians. Great.

The main hall of Ragnar's house is full. First, he talks to the people, telling them everything they took, everything they found. There's a huge fire in the center, flames reaching high. You're at the corner, half-hidden behind Bjorn's shoulder, eyes flying through the place. You quickly recognize the Queen, seated on a chair beside Ragnar. She's very pretty, dark hair cut off to her shoulders. But she looks... Bored. Very uninterested in this.

By her side, close to the floor, you find a pair of eyes set on you. It takes you by surprise since you weren't expecting anyone to find you among all the people. But he did. Ragnar told you a little about him. His youngest son, Ivar, the Boneless. The cripple. It's not hard to recognize him, but your eyes don't search for his deformity. They're locked on his face, trying to read it, trying to understand why he won't look away.

Suddenly, everybody standing in front of you moves, creating a passage that leads to the very center of the hall. Glancing at Bjorn, you see when he gestures for you to go. And so you do, stopping only when you're standing before Aslaug. She doesn't seem very happy about it.

“And who this might be?” She asks, taking a sip from her cup.

“This is King Ecbert's daughter, princess (Y/N).” Ragnar answers. “She has some spirit, so I thought she'd make a good friend for you since you too were a princess once.”

“A Viking princess.” She snaps, looking you up and down.

You should probably say something, but what? The woman doesn't like you, and why would she? The big question now is what will happen to you next.

“(Y/N) isn't like the other women,” Bjorn speaks up, and you give him a look. He's pacing around, playing with a knife. “While her maids were sobbing and begging for their lives, she stood before Ragnar, accepting her fate. I've never seen one of their women do anything like that.” You don't get why he's doing this. Probably Ragnar's orders, or something like that. “She even helped with the oars when a storm reached us, after staying on the edge with that crazy ass Floki over there.” He gestures at the man, who loudly giggles.

“And what does this all mean?” Aslaug breathes out, clearly annoyed.

“Why don't you give her a chance, wife?” Ragnar sits back on his chair, taking Aslaug's hand. “Talk to her, see if there's anything in common and if you don't like her, well... I can send her to live with Lagertha.”

“Who's Lagertha?” You mutter, to nobody in particular.

But the name makes Aslaug sigh, and she stands up, putting the cup down. “Fine then. Come with me.”

With no other choice, you follow her inside. But on your way, you walk by Ivar, who's holding a clutch. You try hard no to, but your eyes find him nevertheless. He quickly looks away, and you keep walking, deciding not to give it much thought. He probably despises you like most of the people here.

Aslaug has some slaves prepare you a warm bath. And, much to your dislike, she stays in the room as you take off your clothes and step inside the tub. But it doesn't take long for you to relax as one of the girls starts washing and brushing your hair.

“Did you sleep with my husband?” The question comes with an angry voice, and you're not sure what startles you more. The anger or the question itself.

“Of course not.” She gets on your sight, pacing around.

“Do you want to sleep with my husband?”

Then, it clicks. She thinks Ragnar brought you here because he desires you. And that's a very dangerous thought for a Queen to have. “No, I don't.” Resting both your arms on the edges of the tub, you look up at her. “And even if he wants to sleep with me, I won't accept it. That's not the reason why I'm here.”

“And why are you here, so far from home, little princess?” She doesn't sound like she actually wants to know, but you get the feeling that this time you can actually say the truth. Here, there's no reason to keep it hidden, locked in. You can say how you feel about everything, even the things that could've got you imprisoned or even dead in Wessex.

“I'm willing to tell you if you're willing to listen, Queen Aslaug.”

At first, there's silence. But then, Aslaug drags a chair, placing it near the tub before sitting down. “Well, since I have nothing better to do at the moment, let's hear it.”

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @midnightmystic

[hanamiyaaaa]

ONE PIECE HEADCANONS: Ideal S/O

Monkey D. Luffy

It's already very obvious that Luffy is basically chopper when it comes to sexual/romantic attraction (when not under usopp's influence). Oda stated that Luffy can identify beauty and while this is true, it's also made obvious that physical appearance isn't a major player (at all) for him when it comes to choosing who he wants to drag into his crew/life. That's why if he were to fall in love I'm sure he'd very much see past the cover.

Luffy would want someone adventurous; someone who he could share those thrilling moments with when he feels as if nothing is chaining him down. It would be great to have a wind beneath his wings of freedom, but he'd enjoy a partner who could find their own wind and glide with him. He'd want someone to laugh with, eat with, play with, basically share his life with. It's very important that his s/o would be open enough to let him in and is willing to be involved in his life too. He'd also prefer people who are on the positive end of the spectrum. I can see him being drawn to a cheerful girls and would grow fond of her smile and laugh. Above everything else, his s/o must know the right thing to do. Luffy wouldn't want a saint, if his s/o was too selfless he may even tell her that being selfish sometimes can be okay. Instead, he'd want someone who listens to her conscience and has a sense of sincerity. Patience isn't something that Luffy would actively look for an s/o but would be a good trait to have especially with that devil-may-care attitude of his. He's bound to bring all sorts of trouble to himself (and to the people around him by extension) and get all beaten up so his s/o would repeatedly have to patch him up and then prepare to repeat it all again. She can remind him to be careful, he'd try but will ultimately fail. He'd tolerate your nagging but don't expect him to be tied down.

Roronoa Zoro

Women with a more athletic build would catch Zoro's eyes. Size wouldn't matter as long as they have defined muscles. He'd find her toned curves and well-built shoulders very much attractive, and would be his favorite places to attack during sexy time. Having muscles on her body will give him the idea that she's strong and is capable of taking hard and heavy work which wouldn't be just hot but also really impressive. I think he would find girls with broad shoulders and a pair of long legs to be more attractive because of the way she projects a certain kind of masculinity but maintains a womanly image. Like a female warrior, she’s strong but delicate at the same time.

First and foremost, she must have dignity. She must maintain pride and honor through her actions, words and thoughts. This means she'd have to deliver what she promised, practices what she preached, and stay faithful to her subordinates and master. She doesn't have to play by the rules all the time, but she has to be someone who trusts her strength and abilities to defeat her adversary rather than a person who'd use deceit to win. A victory achieved through dishonesty wouldn't be a victory at all, and nothing would have been proved. Despite Zoro’s proven perceptiveness in battle, he’s socially dense so he’d prefer a woman who would straightforwardly tell him a problem and hurt his feelings than a girl who beat around the bush and hurt his head. Bonus if she knew the things that she wanted and knew how she'd get them. Decisive women would be very attractive to them because that meant they're self-reliant, self-assured and is prepared to face the consequences of their actions. That kind of bravery would impress Zoro, but not the reckless kind of bold. It's a shame for a swordsman to have scars on his back, but if she'd throw away her life for something meaningless just to prove that she can would just look foolish in his eyes even if she ended up surviving. Perseverance would also be an important trait that Zoro would look for a partner. She should have enough self-discipline and motivation to achieve her goals no matter how unimportant they may be, and no matter how difficult things become.

Trafalgar Law

I really feel like women with a light hair color, like platinum blonde or white, and/or a very fair skin would catch Law's attention as it would remind him of Flevance. She would remind him of his cold past, but at the same time remind him of the warmth of his home. Law would find girls with smaller bone structure more attractive. She'd have a thin and willowy build with modest endowments and slender arms and legs. Like a ballerina, she'll be peppered with delicate features that would make up a feminine and gentle image. Law would find tranquility in her simplicity, and would be a sight for his sore and tired eyes.

It's important to know the difference between know-it-all and an intelligent person because the former would only annoy Law while the latter would impress him. A woman who could quickly process a complicated thought and find a way to apply it to her current situation is the kind of intelligence that he's looking for. She should display a sense of caution, a good judgement and the ability to protect herself because Law wouldn't be able to look after her all the time, and he especially wouldn't want to be with a helpless damsel. Maturity would be the next good thing to have because loving Law isn't an easy task. After everything that happened to him, opening his heart once more to love isn't going to be easy. It would be a painfully slow process with a lot hesitation. Things are bound to be frustrating because there would be a time where he'd start opening up but then suddenly takes a step back and begin creating distance, that's why she needs to pack a lot of patience and understanding if she wanted to be a part of his life. Grace is a quality that he may find attractive. A girl who acts in a refined way, and moves with precision and poise would be satisfying and spectacular to watch... just like a ballerina. Also, I feel he'd like soft-spoken girls, Even if she's talkative, he'd enjoy listening to her voice but then he would prefer to hang around someone who can respect and find comfort in silence with him.

Eustass Kid

Kid is a man. A carnivore, above all. Naturally, he'd want meat in the things he eats. He'd be attracted to women on the heavier side. Large busts, wide hips and thick thighs with a proportionally narrow waist would steal his eyes from whatever he's looking. A little muscle would be great too, especially if the ones on her legs are tone and well-built. It would earn her a grin or a smirk from Kid if he saw her flex her legs as she prepares for a kick and then the muscles on her thighs become defined. I also see him favoring fuller and plump lips, liking the way they feel during a kiss and finding beauty in their shape and how they look and feel when it's around certain... things. He'd also find tattoos and body modifications like tongue or naval piercings pretty hot.

They said opposite attracts, but Kid would beg to differ. A girl who can bark as loud and bite as hard as he does would be immensely annoying but at the same time really impressive. She should be able to show him that she's strong, that she can handle herself and the things that come at her. It doesn't matter if she gets bruised and battered as long as comes out alive and victorious, it all makes a good difference. Kid would like to have a woman who he could compete with because a girl who gives up to everything that he says wouldn't be so fun. She should have enough balls to challenge him and stand up with the things she believes in. Restraint wouldn't be matter to Kid, in fact he'd like a girl who could go crazy with him but should be aware and ready to face the consequences that would come with rampaging. He'd also be more comfortable with someone who's a bit crude and emotionally/mentally-strong as compared to goodie-good girls. He's not the most refined person either and he'd definitely never deal with nitpicky people. That'd be so annoying. Honesty would be very important for Kid, and it's something that he'd constantly want her to give him. Don't lie to him, don't hide anything from him because he's perceptive and, I believe, naturally intuitive to know that there's something weird going on in his ship behind his back.

Killer

I feel like Killer would be attracted to hips; a woman who sports hips wider than the rest of her body. Imagine her figure, a bit narrow at the top then it gracefully pours down into a lovely shape that resembles the number 8. The way her hips flick from side to side as she walks would definitely catch eyes, especially Killer's! A little lean muscle is fine here and there, but a girl with too much may be a deal-breaker. She could be strong, but he'd like his women leaning more on the softer side.

Killer would prefer brains over beauty, preferably a rational thinker. She doesn't have to be a genius, but it would matter a lot if she could fight with her wits just as much as she could fight with her fits. Her artful ways of escaping enemies that she deems too strong to fight, and the way she sees beyond the situation and find solutions through unconventional methods would truly change the way he looks at her in a really good way. Killer isn't too different from his captain, or from anyone in their crew. He's just as violent as they are, but being the most reasonable member of the Kid Pirates oftentimes prevents him from going all out in battle. A woman who could lift that responsibility off his shoulder and help him lash out more would really please him. To do this, she'd have to be willing to sacrifice her own fun, otherwise she'd be added to the list of fully functional adults that Killer has to babysit... which isn't helpful at all. A person who's more comfortable in the sidelines and is more interested in supporting the crew would be best for him. A girl with a more passive disposition with an open mind would appeal more to Killer. She doesn't have to be physically strong as he can protect her, but the Kid Pirates has made a lot of enemies along their way so she should be able to keep herself alive at least.

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 8

Harry can feel the drum thumping in his bones as the bar vibrates with the music from the DJ. He pushes a sweaty strand of hair out of his face, tilting his chin down as he does so. Y/n, plastered to his chest, presses a sloppy kiss to his lips that has him chuckling into her mouth and cupping her warm face in his equally warm hands.

Behind him, the lads from the gym and their friends all holler, someone smacking Harry on the shoulder in congratulations. It makes him chuckle again, this time a bit bashfully, and his ears prickle with heat. His lips detach from y/n's and she blinks her eyes open, looking at him with buzzed eyes and pink cheeks, and he doesn't care about the group of people watching them. He wraps his right arm around her, pulling her even closer to his chest and swaying them back and forth softly. The rhythm is far too slow to match the song but it doesn't matter.

A voice he can't place hollers over the music, "Is that the same girl from last week, Styles?"

Even with his back to the group and his nose in y/n's hair, he can feel the beat of silence as they all await his answer. Y/n fists the silk material of his dress shirt in her hands, looking up at him with curious eyes. Her chin digs into his chest but he enjoys the little pinch of discomfort.

"Course it is." Harry says, loud enough to be heard over the music. A tiny smile twitches at her lips, so cute it has Harry biting back a grin. She goes shy under his gaze, hiding her face in his chest again. He chuckles softly, petting at the back of her head and she pinches his side softly.

"How long is that gonna last?" A voice he recognizes to be Marx calls out. He says it teasingly but Harry knows he's genuinely curious. Him and a couple other boxers always pick up Harry's old one night stands. But he's not getting y/n. The thought of them anywhere near y/n has his stomach twisting.

"As long as I want it to last." Harry replies, affectionately squeezing her shoulder. Y/n presses into his chest even closer.

He knows the next voice immediately. "So I can have her tomorrow, aye?" It's Issleberg, another one of the fuckers that gets his sloppy seconds. Harry doesn't bother answering. He knows y/n isn't sloppy seconds or someone he'll just toss out when he's tired of her. It's been a month and Harry doesn't think he'll ever get tired of her. Issleberg's comment is so unbelievably untrue it doesn't deserve a comment from Harry.

After a moment the guys all resume chatting and trying to hit on the girls around them. Harry ducks down, lowering his lips next to y/n's ear. "Let's go get a drink darling."

She doesn't respond but she lets Harry spin her around, his right arm staying locked around her torso. He keeps his front flush to her back as they push through the crowd. They make it to the bar, Harry keeping his arm slung around y/n as he waits for the bartender. He looks down at her, expecting to find her happily watching him or snuggling into his side. Instead she's typing something into her phone, the device lighting up her glossy eyes.

"Hey," Harry questions gently. She locks her phone, looking up at him with sad eyes. "what's going on?"

"I think I want to go home." Her words shock Harry because just five minutes ago they were having a blast. Before he can even respond, she's shaking off his arm and marching towards the exit. The sight of her practically running away from him chases all traces of his previous drinks away.

Harry's quick to follow her, grabbing her wrist to keep her from walking away from him. "What'sa matter darling?"

She turns to face him and he doesn't like the look he receives. "Nothing," y/n says with a forced smile and a shrug. "just want to go home I guess." Her tone stays casual but Harry notices the growing glossiness in her eyes and he knows it's not the drinks doing anymore. It's his own.

"I'll go with ya," He offers but it's a weak attempt. He can tell by the way she's already angling herself away from him. She's going home alone tonight and so is he.

"No, stay with your friends," -she pulls her wrist from his hand-"I already got a cab."

His heart thumps painfully and his fingers tingle as he panics. Did he really fucking mess this up? "Let me pay f-"

"Stop it Harry." Y/n says firmly, fingers wrapping around the wrist that was already heading towards his pocket to dig out his wallet. "I'm sure you've paid for a lot of girls' rides so just save that for the next one, yeah?"

Her words aren't malicious or spiteful. They're soft and certain. Like she's 100% sure she won't be the only girl Harry's giving rides to for the rest of his life. And it really fucking hurts because he did this. He let her believe he wouldn't fight for her when that's all he wants to do. Screw Marx and Issleberg and every other boxer at the gym. He doesn't want to fight them, he wants to fight whatever demons are trying to push y/n away.

"Can I walk ya out then?" He please, desperate for a sign that he's still got her. Her nod is small, but it's there, and Harry's quick to link their hands together. She leads the way, tugging Harry by his hand as he drags his feet to try and extend their time together. Unfortunately, they reach the exit of the bar far too soon and the cold air that blows his hair back is biting.

A cab is waiting at the curb, flashers blinking in the dark and y/n marches over to it. Harry panics, pressing the heels of his boots into the sidewalk. Y/n is pulled back with a jerk, spinning around to glare at Harry. He doesn't like her looking at him like that.

"I don't want you to go," Harry mumbles, eyes flickering to the cab and his nose scrunches in offense. He doesn't want her riding home in a car without him.

"No?" Y/n shrugs. "You just want me to wait until you want me to go?"

"Tha's not what I meant baby."

She huffs, looking down at his feet. His chest aches. Since when does she not look at him? "It doesn't matter what you meant Harry because it sure as hell sounded like I was just another fling."

"You weren't-you aren't!" Harry swears, tugging her closer by their hands that are still locked together. "You know tha' I care about you."

Harry cups her face in his free hand, urging her to just look at him. Her eyes seem to look everywhere but him, flickering to the floor and the building behind him. "What do ya want me to do? You want me to go back in there and tell 'em?"

"What would you tell them? We're not dating Harry." Ouch.

He squeezes her hand. "I'll tell 'em that I'm gonna be with ya for as long as you want me around. Have a feeling you're gonna want me gone before I want to leave."

He meant it as a joke. Well half joke because of course he's not enough for her. He should've known that he was going to mess it up, that's just what he does. But that doesn't mean that he's not going to try and be with her for as long as she'll have him.

Finally, her eyes meet his and they knock the wind out of him. "Why would you say that Harry?" Just like her gaze, her tone is sad and vulnerable. Harry can't believe that just this morning he was sat in the bath with her, kissing every inch of her skin within reach just to make her giggle. Not even ten hours later he's on the cusp of losing everything that he's ever wanted.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry whispers and he hates the way his words tremble. "You were the one that just threw it in my face that you're not mine."

"I thought I was yours until you decided to tell the whole bar that I'm just temporary."

"Baby," Harry gasps, releasing her hand to slip his arm around her waist. She doesn't push him back but she doesn't melt into him like she usually does. "you're not temporary. You're my girl, you're my-I l-please don't leave like this."

"I don't want to do this now Harry. " Y/n says, her hands coming up to hold his jaw. Harry leans into her, eyes desperately searching for some kind of comfort. "I want to go home and I want to shower and go to bed."

"A-and what about tomorrow?" Harry whimpers. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

"You can come see me when you've figured out what you're doing Harry. I'm not going to push you into dating me, I'm not going to force you to label this, but you need to figure out what you want."

He can't stop himself. He presses his forehead to hers, lips slotting with hers in a last resort attempt to show her that all he wants is her. Y/n kisses him back briefly, offering him that bit of hope he was looking for but she still pulls back with a sad smile.

"I'm going to go," She brushes her thumb over his bottom lip and he presses a tender kiss to the pad of it. He knows he can't keep her any longer. She's made up her mind and who is he to demand that she stay with him. He gives her a nod, releasing his hold on her waist and face. Like a kicked puppy he follows her to the cab, pulling open the back door for her. She stops before getting in, turning to Harry and leaving one last kiss to his cheek.

"Bye Harry." Her words crack his chest and he's a bit embarrassed about the tears welling in his eyes. For how long is this goodbye? Forever? Until tomorrow? A few days? The unknown makes him nauseous.

Y/n gets in the cab, Harry closing the door behind her. She doesn't look at him as she buckles up. He walks to the front passenger window, softly knocking. The driver, an older man dressed in a thick winter coat, rolls it down and gives Harry a sympathetic smile.

"What can I do for you son?"

Harry rests his elbows on the window. "Can ya take extra care of this one for me? Make sure she gets home safe?"

"Of course,"

"And uh don't drive away until you see her go inside? She hates walking to the building by herself at night." He hears y/n sniffle in the back and he knows she's crying too.

The man glances in his rearview mirror and his smile grows. "Don't you worry. I'll get her home in one piece and I'll make sure no one messes with her."

"Thank you sir." Harry reaches forward to shake the man's hand. He pulls himself away from the car, shoulders slumping as it drives away from the curb, leaving Harry more lost then he's ever felt before.

~

"We've got tea for mumma, nice warm tea just for mumma." Harry sings quietly, holding y/n's cup of green tea in his right hand and Arlo on his left hip. She giggles at them, endeared by the dimpley smile on Harry's face and sits up, leaning against the headboard of their bed.

Harry hands her the mug, her sweater pawed hands wrapping around it. "And we've got kisses for mumma, extra sweet kisses just for mumma." She giggles again and Harry presses his lips to each cheek and then her lips.

"And now it's bub's turn." Harry holds Arlo out to y/n, fingers wrapped around his little torso and tilting him down. Arlo smushes his lips to y/n's, drooling more than he is kissing and it makes her laugh, reaching up to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.

Harry chuckles, plopping Arlo down on the bed next to y/n. She sips her tea, placing it on the night stand as Harry crawls over her to his side of the bed. She brings Arlo up to her torso, smiling when he lays on his tummy on her chest. She strokes her fingers through his thin blond hair and Arlo let's out a little coo. Harry lays on his side, his hand laying on her tummy that's housing the baby that had caused a fuss of morning sickness earlier.

"Sure ya still want to go trick or treating tonight darling?" Harry mururms, stroking his thumb over her stomach. "We can stay here and hand out candy if ya want?"

Y/n's fingers comb through his hair, similar to the way she's carding through Arlo's hair. "Of course I still want to go. We already got costumes and I know how much you want to show Arlo off in his."

Harry presses his lips to her side. "S'not a big deal if you're not feeling good darling. Don't want you an' the baby getting a cold."

He knows her answer before she even says it. She's selfless, she knows that the last thing Harry wants to do is hand out candy with Anne and Gemma but he'll do it for her. However, he doesn't have to because y/n is the saint he could never be.

"I really really want to go trick or treating."

"Yeah?" Harry asks, lifting his head to look up at her. His chest goes warm at the sight of Arlo tucked into her breast, eyes shut as he sucks on the loose collar of the shirt she took from Harry.

Y/n nods at him, smiling gently. "Yeah. Plus mom and dad can't wait to see him for his first Halloween."

Harry presses another kiss to her stomach. He can't wait to show the whole neighborhood his little family.

~

It's days before Harry works up the nerve to go see her. He knows it's his fault. She told him to come see her when he was ready. She left everything in his hands and the only person he can blame this period of silence on is himself.

It's not like he didn't want to see her. That night at the bar he wanted to go to her apartment and fall asleep with her. But she had asked for answers and he hadn't had them. What was he supposed to say? That's he twenty years old and he's never had anything close to a relationship? She knows that he's been with a lot of girls, it's not like it's a huge secret after the scene everyone made when she went to his first fight as his girl, but she doesn't know that those girls were nothing. They never stepped foot in his place. He never took them on dates. He never offered his clothes to them. He didn't cuddle them. He can't even remember half of them.

That doesn't seem like something you tell a girl you're trying to commit to. How could he say he wants to one day call her his girlfriend after explaining that he's never even had a girlfriend?

He thought he was going to be sick as he stood outside her apartment, knuckles stinging from knocking on her door in the cold. The few seconds it takes her to open the door feel like the longest seconds of his life and he's stuttering on his own breath when she meets his gaze.

It's her day off, just like he knew it would be, and she's dressed in a pair of worn grey sweatpants and a tee-shirt he'd left there. The sight of her in his clothes knocks the wind back into him and he's able to find his voice.

"Hi," He mumbles, still caught up on the shirt. She missed him then, right? Why else would she be wearing it? Because it reminded her of him?

"Hi Harry." She gives him a small smile, albeit a little awkward. A gust of cold wind blows through the entrance and she immediately shivers. "God that's cold. Come in before we freeze."

She steps off to the side and Harry happily enters, kicking off his shoes as she closes the door behind him. In the warmth of her home, Harry pulls off his coat and hangs it next to her. It feels weird setting his shoes by hers and hanging his coat on the empty hook after a week of being away.

"Are you ok?" Harry asks, nervously raking his fingers through his hair. He looks up at her, frowning at the way she's defensively crossed her arms over her chest.

She nods. "Are you ok?"

Harry shrugs. He doesn't feel very ok. He's felt like hell all week without her and now that he's standing with her, knowing he'll have to tell her why he couldn't stand up for her, he feels sick. Overall, that's not even close to being ok.

"I really missed you," He admits. Y/n opens her mouth, probably to tell him that's it's his fault but he beats her to it. "S'on me. I know tha' darling. But I couldn't show up here without an answer."

Y/n nods again, shuffling her sock clad feet. "D-do you have an answer then?"

Harry swallows the lump in his throat. "I want to be with you." He takes a step closer to her, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. "I-I've never done this before, obviously-" Harry chuckles, "and I'll admit I'm a little lost but I know that I'll be ok with you."

"W-what does that mean Harry?"

His palms have become so sweaty he has to wipe them on his jeans. He wishes he could just hold her, that he could physically transfer everything he wants to say to her through just a hug.

"I'm not ready to label this, you know I have a hard time with that, but I want us to one day reach that point. I know that I can love you, that I can give you everything you could ever want but I need time." He notices that he arms have fallen to her sides. "C-can we do that?"

"I'd love that Harry." Y/n nods and before he can react, she's tackling him into a hug that knocks the wind out of him. He wraps her up, shoulders relaxing as he realizes that he opened up to her, not very well, but he still did. And she's still here. She's still holding him, she still wants to be with him.

"Really?" Harry breathes in disbelief, burying his nose in her hair. She nods into his chest.

"Just next time those assholes ask about me-"

"I'll tell 'em." Harry swears. "I'll tell 'em that you're my girl and that they'll never get a chance with you because you're all mine."

Y/n tilts her head up, resting her chin on his chest much like she did that night. He presses his lips to her forehead, his whole being feeling so much lighter now that he knows she's sticking with him, that she's his.

~

"Harry, you got his mittens too big!"

Harry finishes laces up his boot, tucking in the pants leg of his white jumpsuit. "Just put them under the sleeves!" He calls to y/n, standing up from the edge of the bed and brushing his costume off. Y/n comes into the room, a scowl on her face and Arlo craddled in her arms, pacifier bobbing between his lips.

Harry can't help but grin at the pout on her face. She tosses the pair of black mittens at Harry, hitting him square in the chest. He manages to catch them before they fall to the floor. "Wha'?"

"You can get him ready yourself," she states, already handing Arlo over to Harry before disappearing into the bathroom. Harry chuckles quietly at her, patting Arlo's stomach through his bumble bee costume.

"Mumma's grouchy, huh bug?" He mururms, laying him on his back on the bed. Arlo just stares at him, the antenna clad hood falling over his eyes. Harry pulls it back, fully revealing the green eyes that match his own.

"Look at ya," Harry breathes, adjusting the little black booties on Arlo's feet so the bottom of his pants tuck into them. "all cute in ya little costume, just like daddy."

Arlo kicks his legs up, hips jutting up quickly, and he giggles around his pacifier. Harry manages to catch one of Arlo's waving hands, slipping a mitten over it to protect his hands from the cold. Harry does the same with the other, pressing a delicate kiss to Arlo's nose once he's finished.

"There we are bug." Harry grunts as he lifts Arlo up. Arlo relaxes into Harry's chest, soft suckling noises leaving his mouth. "Shall we go check on mumma?"

They find her in the bathroom, dressed head to toe in all black as leans over the sink, staring intently into the mirror. Her tongue pokes out of her pretty lips, eyebrows pinched together as she focuses on pining her hair back into a classic beehive style. Harry smiles, heart fluttering giddily.

"There she is!" He gasps quietly, knowing she can hear him but wanting to make it seem like he's conversing with Arlo. "Isn't she pretty bub? Loveliest honey I've ever seen."

Arlo, with his eyes big and soft as they look up at Harry, coos something unintelligible but he takes it as an agreement. Harry flicks his eyes up, a shit-eating grin on his face when he catches her rolling her eyes in the mirror. His grin grows when he notices her pink cheeks. All these years and he can still make her blush.

"Stop flattering me and help me get my hive on." Y/n orders, nodding towards the stuffed beehive she'll be wearing tonight. Harry chuckles, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek.

"Hold ma baby and I'll help ya darling."

Harry lays Arlo's in her arms, grabbing the beehive by the two shoulder straps. It's light so it it's easy to lift over her head. He just has to be careful of her hair.

"I'm holding both of your babies, thank you very much."

Harry laughs at her grumbling, maneuvering the costume down her body without disturbing Arlo or causing any fly away hairs.

"An' I love ya so much for it." He pecks her cheek. "Now give me my son 'fore ya squish him."

Y/n giggles, lifting her arms up so that Harry can grab Arlo. Once Harry's gotten him back against his chest, y/n slips her arms under the straps of the hive. As a unit, they turn to the mirror. Harry can't help but smile. A beekeeper, his beehive, and their little bee.

~

They left Anne and Gemma at the door, three huge bowls of candy and extra bags stacked next to them, and the gate programmed to stay open until 1 a.m. for all the trick or treaters. Harry felt good climbing into the car with his wife and babies. His family. It's refreshing to not have to think or worry about Gemma and Anne for a night because tonight is all about Arlo's first Halloween.

As a trio (or secret quartet) they roamed the neighborhood, Arlo held tightly in Harry's arms and y/n stuck to his side like honey. Y/n carried the little reusable pumpkin pail they'd be using to collect candy and Harry had on the backpack holding warmer clothes for Arlo and the bjorn in case they needed it. It clashed with his beekeeper costume a bit but he didn't care. This is all for his little bug.

They approach the first house, the home of the Risner family, and y/n presses her thumb to the doorbell. Harry bounces Arlo just once to gain his attention and the door swings open to reveal Ms. Risner in a witch's hat with a cauldron of candy.

"Trick or treat!" Harry and y/n cheer in unison and Harry tickles Arlo's thigh to get him giggling, a bubbly and light little noise that has their neighbor cooing.

"Oh my," she gasps, looking at the little family. "aren't you all just adorable! Do I get to be little Arlo's first house of the night?"

"Yes ma'am." Harry grins and she fishes out a few pieces of candy, dropping them in the pail y/n holds out.

"Well I'm honored!" She smiles, bringing a hand up to her chest as she oggles Arlo. "Oh I remember when mine were that little." She mururms longingly. "You two remember, if you ever need a sitter I'm right here."

Harry nods appreciatively as y/n responds, "Of course Mrs. Risner and if you ever need anything you can call us."

"Oh you're such sweethearts." Mrs. Risner coos and if weren't for the sound of another group of kids approaching the door, Harry thinks she might have roped them back into another conversation about her kids.

"See ya around love," Harry smiles, making his way off the porch. He lifts his hand in a wave. "Happy Halloween!" Ms. Risner repeats the wish and Harry drops his hand, linking fingers with y/n.

They travel house to house, Arlo beaming every single time Harry and y/n cheer "trick or treat", and Harry can't help but swell with gratefulness each time. His family is adored, not only by him, but the people around them. Call him too philosophical, but Harry can't help but think he was given such an incredible home because he'd survived his bad one. He tries not to think of the bad family that is currently watching over his house, instead focusing on the feeling of y/n holding his hand and Arlo snuggling into his chest.

~

Harry can't stop checking his phone. It's a bit pathetic considering he'd stayed at her place all week, smothering her in cuddles and unhealthy treats as they rewatched Hocus Pocus daily and carved pumpkins. Maybe it's the cold weather that's making him clingy (it's not, he's always clingy) or it's because they're nearing a year of being together, and Harry's so grateful for her he can't stand to not be holding her every minute of every day.

He's got a text from her. His heart jumps up into his throat at the message.

Wow, there's a really handsome vampire in one of the back booths

He chuckles, his false fangs digging into his lip as he looks up and glances around the jamming club. Every time he spots someone with her hair color or in a costume he thinks might be her he freezes, but seconds later he realizes they're not her. What could she possibly be dressed at that he can't find her.

Maybe he'll buy you a drink. If you give him a kiss

He glances up excitedly, looking to see who's grabbing their phone. It's useless, everyone is on their phone.

"What are you pouting for? Kate told me their here."

Harry tries to quirk up his lips but he knows he fails when Scott chuckles at him. Next to him, Lionel slumps into Nick, sloshing the drink he was sipping down his Han Solo costume. Harry does smile at that.

"She's hiding from me."

Scott chuckles again and Harry can tell by the look on his face that he knows where they are. How could he not, he knows what they're dressed as.

Maybe he should come find me if he wants a kiss

Harry huffs, rolling his eyes at her teasing. All day today she'd been boasting about her costume, claiming it was "far superior" to Harry's. Laughing he had told her it wasn't hard to beat his costume considering he was just a plain old vampire.

Stop being mean to me :(

Three dots pop up, signaling her typing. Harry simpers eagerly, hoping she'll give in and tell him where she is.

Boo...

His smile falls, brow furrowing. Boo? Before Harry can ask her what she means, two arms are slipping around his shoulders and draping down his chest. He recognizes the smell of her and instinctively reaches up for her hands. He frowns when instead of being met with warm skin, his fingers find the squishy padding of a pair of boxing gloves. A pair of very familiar yellow boxing gloves.

"Hi," Y/n mururms into his ear, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple.

Harry grips the elbow that's closest to the edge of the booth, tugging her around the back until he can see her. He can't help but gawk.

Her usually wild hair is pulled into two braids, falling down her shoulders. She's wearing a silk robe, one that's far too big on her considering it's made for Harry's broad frame. She's left the robe open, revealing a plain black sports bra he's seen her wear at the gym with him, and then a pair of slick black shorts that look like the smaller version of Harry's pair at the gym. She's wearing long yellow socks that reach a little past her mid-calf and match the yellow boxing gloves she's taken from him, and her feet are tucked into a pair of white Converse. It's obvious she's a boxer but it's the carefully copied tattoos on her skin that let him know she's him.

She's got his intricate butterfly on her stomach as well as the beautiful laurels on her hips. Two swallows peak out of her sports bra, placed in the same area on her collarbones that Harry's are located. The sleeves of his robe cover her arms so he doesn't know if she's copied a few of the designs on his arm and the boxing gloves hide her hands so he's sure she didn't recreate the cross on his thumb. And, while he'd love to see his tiger tattoo inked into her plushy thigh, he's almost positive she hasn't got it considering the shorts cover her thighs.

His eyes trail back up her body, meeting her bashful gaze and bitten smile. She sways softly, awaiting his reaction. He means to coo over to her, to murmur how precious she is, but all that manages to leave his lips is a throaty "fuck."

The lads behind him snicker and Harry's face suddenly burns with warmth but he's positive it's not embarrassment. By the stir of his stomach, he knows it's Y/n. It's always Y/n.

"That good huh?"

Harry chuckles at her smug response, knowing exactly what she's thinking. I told you so. And she did tell him. She told him all day.

"Come 'ere," Harry murmurs, swinging his legs off the side and gesturing for her to step between his parted knees. She settles herself between his thighs, arms draping around his neck, and he's so fucking glad the booth is on a platform because her lips are perfectly lined up with his. And much like he requested of her earlier, he slots their mouths together. Too overwhelmed by the sight of her to keep the kids PG, Harry parts her lips with his tongue. Y/n shakes with soft giggles, arms tightening around his neck.

"Does he really turn himself on that much?"

Nick,Scott, and who he assumes is Katey all chuckle at Lionel's words, pulling Harry away from y/n's sweet mouth.

"So you like it?" Y/n murmurs, twinkling eyes flickering from his mouth to his eyes.

"Love it," Harry says hotly, pecking her shiny lips once more. Y/n smiles proudly once again and it adds to heat in his veins. "want a drink baby?"

She hums, nodding. He grins again, patting her hip so she can give him room to stand up. They walk to the bar in the front, Harry's hips attached to Y/n's from behind. He didn't even ask the rest of the table if they wanted a drink.

He can't help himself, pushing against her as she leans into the bar. His arms grip the edge of the dark wood, caging her in. She giggles, dropping her head back on his shoulder to look at him.

The bartender greets them, smiling politely at Harry. He orders him and y/n a Coke and rum, not even waiting for the man to move away before tilting his head down to y/n.

"It's awfully dangerous to expose a neck that pretty to a vampire." Harry breathes, lips brushing her jaw. She shivers against him and smiles sweetly.

"Well someone promised me the kiss of a vampire."

He chuckles, pressing his crotch further into her bum and ghosting his lips over the skin of her throat. He brings a hand up to her neck, fingers gently splaying over the column of it. He dots a few pecks up and down her soft skin, lightly scraping his fangs just to tease her. Their drinks are placed in front of them, Harry not bothering to thank the bartender.

"The Harry Styles being rude to a bartender?" She gasps dramatically, but Harry can hear the tremble in her breath. He smirks against her skin. "Scandalous."

"Think it'll be all over the newspapers tomorrow?" He murmurs, offering a few more gentle pecks.

"Obviously, a stuck up professional athlete? They'll eat you right up."

Harry lifts his head. "That's a shame," he pecks her cheek. "I was planning on doing the same thing to you tonight."

He leans over her for their drinks, smiling a wicked grin at the wideness of her dark eyes. "Come on darling. Got a party to show you off to."

He nods towards their booth, holding his elbow out for her. She slips her hand through it, laying her head on his shoulder. The whole walk back is spent with burning gazes following them and Harry's ego swelling with every step.

~

The door is thrown open before Harry's even lifted Arlo out of his car seat. Y/n, holding their overnight bag and Arlo's little backpack on either shoulder, laughs softly and waves towards the house.

"Hello mother!"

Arlo stirs, whining low in his chest as Harry cradles him to his chest. He shushes him, patting his back gently to keep him asleep. Arlo fidgets just once before relaxing into the fabric of Harry's jumpsuit, releasing a little puff of air.

"Oh I missed you so much!" Marie calls out to them. Harry chuckles. She saw them just last week.

He grabs Arlo's diaper bag, throwing it over his free shoulder. Y/n close the car door for him. Marie stands on the porch, already dressed in her robe and pajamas. Peeking out from behind her legs is a familiar pair of blue eyes that has Harry smiling.

"I sure hope Charlie's here." Harry says, directing the comment to y/n but saying it loud enough for Charlie to hear. A little giggle breaks out from behind Marie.

"Charlie is my faaaavorite!"

Before he's even finished the sentence a mop of blonde curls and piercing eyes is barreling into his legs, almost knocking him back down the steps.

"I am here Uncle Harry!" Charlie practically screams, nuzzling his cheek to Harry's thigh. "I'm here! And you're my favorite too!"

Harry chuckles, ruffling Charlie's hair with the hand not holding Arlo. Y/n pouts beside him.

"Am I chopped liver or what?"

Charlie laughs when she scoops him up off the floor, carrying him bridal style to the door. She pauses to kiss her mom's cheek before disappearing into the house with a squealing 6 year old in her arms.

"Those two," Marie tells him, rolling her eyes humorously. Harry kisses her cheek.

"Gonna reek havoc on your house."

Marie closes and locks the door behind them, chuckling. "This place survived her and Louis. It can survive her and Charlie."

Harry drops Arlo's baby bag on the floor next to the two bags y/n has already left there. Arlo snuggles deeper into his chest.

"Where is everyone?" He asks, taking in the blankets sprawled out on the couches and the TV that's stuck on the play menu of Paranorman. A squeal of laughter from the kitchen answers his question.

The high pitch giggles and dramatic groans coming from the kitchen continue, the bubbly laugh of y/n making his stomach swirl.

The dark wood table made to sit 8 is only preoccupied in two chairs. One holds Y/n's sister in law, Chloe, with Layla perched on her laugh. Layla's stiffling giggles into her palms but majority of the noise is coming from the chair holding four. Steve is sat first, y/n laughing hearty giggles on her father's lap. Charlie is giggling away on her lap, squirming under the weight of his father.

"Louis Tomlinson, get off of your child!" Marie scolds, flicking his forehead as she walks by them. Harry chuckles, ruffling Layla's hair as the others pile off the chair.

"Hi pretty girl."

"Uncle Harry!"

Layla launches herself up from her mom's lap, directly into Harry's side. Harry's quick to catch her on his hip, wincing slightly when Arlo grumbles.

"Did you miss me Uncle Harry?"

Harry pecks her cheek. "Course I missed ya. How could I not miss my squinklett?"

Layla giggles bashfully at his words, laying her head on his shoulder. Her eyes fall on Arlo, immediately cooing at him.

"Why's Arlo always sleepy?"

"He gets it from his mumma." Harry whispers, flashing his eyes up to y/n. She's locked in a bone crushing hug with her brother.

"Will he ever wake up?"

Harry snorts. "Of course he'll wake up. Just had a long night."

"Really?"

"S'tough being a bee sweetheart."

"Oh," Layla hums thoughtfully. "I've never been a bee."

"Maybe one day." Harry tells her.

Chloe chuckles at them, climbing up and holding her hands out for her daughter. Layla reluctantly pulls back from Harry, flopping into her mom's chest.

"Hello Chlo," Harry greets.

"Hi babe," Chloe pecks Harry's cheek. "oh what a doll." She coos, stroking a finger over Arlo's cheek, careful to not wake him.

"Trick or treating was a bit exciting. Wore the bub right out."

Chloe nods in understanding. After two babies of her own, she knows how the first holidays go.

Y/n and Louis have separated themselves long enough for Harry to greet him and Steve. As usual they coo over Arlo, informing Harry that he's grown so much.

"Why don't you two go change and put the little one to bed?" Marie offers, already urging y/n and Harry out of the dining room. "We'll pick a movie to watch together and get snacks together."

Y/n links her hand with Harry's, leading him back to their bags and then through the hallway. Louis and Chloe have taken over his old room and set up Charlie and Layla in the spare, so Harry and Y/n take her old bedroom.

Harry lays Arlo in the middle of the bed, watching him carefully as he strips out of his boots and jumpsuit. He tosses the costume to the side, tugging down his boxers a bit because they've ridden too high. Y/n digs through Arlo's bag for a nappie and onesie while Harry begins to strip him out of his bee costume. By the time Harry's got a new nappie on him, Y/n has changed from her costume into shorts and a big tee-shirt, and pulled her messy hair into a bun. Her arms slip around Harry's waist as he fastens the buttons on Arlo's onesie.

"Feeling okay darling?"

She hums, nuzzling her cheek into his bare back.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yes,"

"Glad we went?"

"Absolutely,"

Harry manages to turn, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "Good." He pecks her lips. "Now let me some clothes on yeah?"

Y/n pouts and whines just to tease him but releases him. She stacks pillows around Arlo to keep him from rolling to the ends of the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Once Harry's slipped on clothes he too gives Arlo a kiss goodnight.

"Movie time?" Harry asks.

Y/n nods, kissing Harry's lips just once. Harry grins, pulling her to his chest and leading them out of the room. Charlie's laugh is ringing out from the living room and it makes Harry chuckle. Glancing down at Y/n, her eyes tired but lips smiling as she rubs her fingers over her stomach, much like she did when Arlo was still living in there, his stomach flutters. He loves being with his real family and he wouldn't give it up for anything.

[fangirlspammer]

Journey to the Past pt.3

This took awhile to write, but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope you are enjoying this😌

You had been pacing around your living room for half an hour now. Jack was still not home after that blowout back in her office nearly two hours ago. You knew she had work to do and probably needed to cool down before coming over, if she was still coming over. You had showered and made dinner, but still there was no sign of Jack not even a text. Just as you thought about giving up the door opened and you turned to face Jack.

"Jack," you stopped as she held up her hand and you couldn't read her expression. Was she upset with you? Had something happened in the case? Had Gibbs made things worse? All of these questions flooding your mind only made you more anxious.

Jack sighed and set down her coat and purse. "We need to talk," her voice sent chills down your spine and your stomach turned. Nothing good ever came from that sentence in a relationship.

"I shouldn't have called him out like that. It wasn't appropriate," you stepped in quickly.

"No, it wasn't, but that's not what we need to talk about," she shook her head and patted the seat beside her on the sofa.

You looked to her with a certain fear in your eyes, cautiously proceeding to her side. As you sat you looked at your hands that were fiddling in your lap. "Jack, baby, you're really starting to freak me out. Is this about us?"

Jack noticed the fear exuding from you and took your hand. "No! No, god no," she shook her head quickly. "I love you, Y/N," you felt yourself smile as she carried on. "I just needed to clear things up. Gibbs didn't end things with me," she sighed and ran her free hand through her hair.

You furrowed your brow as you listened to her. "I don't understand."

Jack began to chew her lower lip and get antsy in her seat. "Gibbs and I weren't a thing for a long time, despite what his team says," she started and stood up. Now she was the one who was pacing the room. "We flirted and spent a lot of time together, yes," she turned to face you and sighed. "One night, after things were starting to get serious, we found ourselves.." she squinted her eyes and tilted her head a bit, unsure how to phrase this. You nodded and she carried on, leaving you with the unsettling images of your girlfriend and your boss in bed together. "The next morning I told him things weren't going to work because I liked somebody else," she finally took a seat again and put her head in her hands.

You're eyes widened in realization of what she was getting at. "You mean you left him for me?"

Jack nodded, but retracted her response. "It wasn't me leaving him, Y/N. We weren't a couple."

"But you slept together," she nodded and you sighed. "He thinks it's my fault."

"No," Jack moved closer and pushed your hair from your face. "I talked to him tonight, and he knows where my head was at now. He's sorry for how he's treated you these past months."

You scoffed and rolled youreyes. "Gibbs apologized?" You couldn't help your skepticism on the subject. Special Agent, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not one to apologise. He was barely one to stick around for a full conversation.

"Maybe not in so many words, but I know he is sorry," Jack laughed and you rolled your eyes with a little smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

She leaned in to kiss your cheek, brushing her lips over it a few times before proceeding to your jawline. This lasted awhile before she captured your lips in a series of hungry kisses. Your stomach did flips and your heart raced at her touch. Your hand slid up her thigh and found its way behind her back. Nothing had ever felt as good as it did when Jack was in your arms.

"I made dinner," you whispered as you both pulled away for air. She arched her brow and you laughed at the cautious look that spread across her face. "I know, I know. We might have to order in."

"I'll eat whatever you made," she smirked and pushed loose strands of hair from your face. Her deep brown eyes glossed over with love and lust.

You found yourself unable to speak for a few moments, getting lost in Jack completely. You couldn't explain the feelings that arose inside of you whenever she was around, and when she was as close as she was now all hell broke loose within you. You shook your head of your devious thoughts before clearing your throat and letting out a soft laugh. "I won't make you do that to yourself. My cooking will probably put you up for a week," you laughed with more amusement in your tone.

Jack rolled her eyes and let out a sound that you swore sounded like an angel singing. "I'll risk it," she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your ruby lips once more. "Who knows, maybe I can have you for dessert?"

You felt your cheeks get hot and swore your face was the shade of a tomato. You absolutely loved when Jack was playful like this with you. "Maybe," you smirked and kissed her lips once more. "Maybe I'll even let you have seconds."

Soft giggles filled the room and you both found yourselves lost in yet another series of desperate kisses. Neither of you were ever able to keep your hands off of each other. Honestly you were amazed that you had managed to stay mostly professional at work. At least to the publics eyes you were.

*

*

Jack couldn't remember a longer 'hump day' in her life. The murder of Lieutenant Abigail Finnley was going on its third day of being unsolved. William Jenson was still a suspect even though NCIS had to release him due to lack of evidence, and Jack could only imagine the smug look he must of had on his face as he walked out. She had been over the files at least five times that morning alone, but she was getting nowhere. She tossed her pencil across the room in frustration just as the door open. She looked up and saw Gibbs standing there surprised after having to dodge a flying pencil.

"Have a new file for you," he walked in and shut the door behind him. He held out yet another boring beige folder and she took it with frustration.

"Just what I need. Another file to go over that'll lead me nowhere," she rolled her tired brown eyes, unamused.

Gibbs couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw the frustration written all over her. "Lesley Hangman, Lieutenant Finnley's best friend," he stated plainly.

Jack was flipping through the files now and looked up at Gibbs suddenly. "We already questioned her. Did you find something else?"

"Finnley filled a restraining order against her the week before she died."

Jack was intrigued. She adjusted her glasses and sat forward with curiosity. "Now why would you file a restraining order against your best friend?"

Gibbs shrugged. "That's where you come in, Jack," he sighed and started to leave, but he stopped at the door. "Y/N-"

Jack arched a brow and gave a little nod. "She'll be on her best behavior tomorrow," she assured him.

"Not what I was asking, Jack."

"I know," their eyes locked for a moment before she sighed, giving into his silent questions. "I told her everything, and we are fine." Gibbs nodded and just like that Jack was left to her own devices once again.

Jack looked down as her phone made a noise. A smile crossed her lips as she read the text.

Chinese takeout tonight. Any movie requests? (:

Surprise me baby. Can't wait to see you;) -J

*

*

You chuckled at the text you just received and licked the cookie dough off of the spatula. You began to wipe the counter and do the dishes as the cookies baked, filling the room with a rich sweetness. There was not much to do being stuck at home but cook and clean, and try not to focus too negatively on yesterday's events. You sighed and turned your music up to drown out your thoughts. You began to dance and hum to yourself. Jack would be home soon and you wanted her to enjoy the evening. This case was too personal for her, and you knew that the last thing she would want was to think about it all. The door opened, but you didn't hear it. You were too busy singing along to the music into a wooden spoon. Your hips swayed and you tossed you hair. A loud screech escaped your lips as you felt arms wrap around you from behind.

"Jack! I didn't even hear you come in," you tried to catch your breath as you turned in her arms. She chuckled and pecked your lips. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"We wrapped the case," she shrugged and kissed your nose again, giggling. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you. You just looked so sexy I couldn't resist."

You rolled your eyes and smirked. She had an excuse for everything. Your brows furrowed when you realized what she had said. "You wrapped the case? Was it-"

Jack shook her head and sighed. "No, it wasn't Jenson. Turns out it was the best friend, Lesley Hangman. She and Finnley were more than friends, but when Finnley broke things off Lesley became obsessed with trying to get her back."

"And that's when Lieutenant Finnley filed the restraining order?" Your knowledge sparked Jack's curiosity and you giggled. "Bishop might have filled me in on a few details earlier."

Jack rolled her eyes and continued. "Yes, well Lesley came over to confront Abigail and things got heated. That's when she stabbed her," she sighed and let her body relax against yours, pressed against the counter. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her.

"Sounds like you need to put your feet up," you breathed out as she pressed against you. Your heart was racing. The things this woman did to you.

"Way up," she smirked playfully causing you groan.

She leaned closer, kissing along your jawline before dipping down to the curve of your collarbone. Your head tilted back instinctively and you swallowed hard. Your grip on the counter tightened as her lips trailed down your chest, but quickly made their way back to your neck. You could feel your legs getting shaky, and she must have too because her leg pushed in between yours and her hips held you in position. You let out another groan, this one more desperate than the last. You took a deep breath, but her scent was intoxicating.

Your hands ran up her back until they found their way into her beautifully, blonde, beach curls, and gave them a gentle tug. She gasped and looked into your eyes before you leaned forward to capture her lips in a heated frenzy of passion. You both wasted no time finding your way into each other's mouths, fighting for dominance, and before you knew it Jack was leading you to the bedroom. You didn't stop her as she kicked the door shut and laid you on the bed. All previous plans were out the window, and your focus was on the beautiful, half naked blonde straddling you now and kissing down your body.

"Y/N," Jack's voice was low and seductive as she inches closer to your thighs.

Her fingers latched under your panty line, but you pulled her back up to you and quickly flipped her over. "Jack," you groaned again. Her hands were pinned to the mattress as our straddled her now and dipped your head to kiss her passionately. "This is about you," you whispered and smirked. She let out that giggle that sent shivers up your spine. Your lips found hers again, and soon the room filled with soft moans and breathless panting. If only everyday could be this way.

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Rocket Queen

0.6: Late Night Conversations

Henley's P.O.V

It's about an hour later after me and Duff had the conversation in the bathroom. Duff ordered the Chinese food so now we're eating it and watching some stupid movie on TV. I sigh, looking at the clock. It's only one in the morning. Fuck, how am I gonna make it home before my parents notice I'm gone? There's only one obvious answer. I can't. Unless I know for a fact that Hyde won't rat me out for being a minor in a bar, I'm stuck here with the blonde I barely know.

And where the hell is Madeline?

"What's goin' through your head?" Duff asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

I look over at him, then back down at my container of sweet n' sour chicken. "How do you know I'm thinking anything? I could just be enjoying my food."

Duff laughs, setting his container on the coffee table. "You have to be thinking of something. I doubt you're just sitting there not having one thought. That's, like, impossible."

I sigh, laughing a bit. He had me there. "You got me." I set my container on the table as well, losing my appetite almost completely. "I-uh-was just thinking about how I'm going to get home before my parents notice that I'm missing. They'll go bonkers if I'm not in my bed in the morning."

"You could just call them and tell them Madeline had an emergency so the both of you went to her place."

I smile at him. He has this hopeful look in his eyes as if he really wants to help. God he's so adorable.

I mentally groan at that thought. I just met the dude! Get that shit out of your head.

"You came up with that pretty quick."

He smiles, puffing out his chest. "I am the king of excuses," He says proudly.

I giggle, rolling my eyes. Damn, I haven't laughed and smiled this much since before Tommy left. "I'll call you up next time I need help with that."

"So, you still live with your parents, huh?"

"What do you mean still? I am only sixteen, y'know?" Did he seriously forget I told him how old I was not even a few hours ago.

Duff's eyes widen. "There's no fucking way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"I just mean, you act older. I would've thought you were at least eighteen," He explains, taking a swig from the beer that was sitting on the table.

I really hope that's a new one and not a bottle that has just been sitting there for days. It's obvious he doesn't clean often. I cringe watching him drink it.

"What?" He asks. He looks genuinely confused as to why I was looking at him like I am.

I almost laugh at his look. I, however, manage to keep a straight face. "Please tell me it's a new bottle."

Duff looks down at his drink, laughing as he fully processes my statement. "Oh my God, Henley. You're seriously worrying about how old my drink is?"

I shrug, looking down. I feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

Duff's laughter dies down after I stay quiet for a while. I know it's stupid to feel embarrassed like I am, but I can't help it. I don't like it when people laugh at me.

"Henley," Duff says, his laughter still working it's way out of his system. I don't say anything. "Hey," Duff says, his voice quiet and soft. I look up at him, shocked at how his voice changed in a second. "Did I say something wrong?"

I feel my heart drop. He thinks he did something wrong. In reality, I'm just an oversensitive ass. It's amazing how my "Bad ass aura"-as Madeline would call it-disappears as soon as I'm alone with someone I'm comfortable with. I become overly sensitive with everything. I'm like that with Athena, Tommy, and Madeline. And now, apparently, Duff. Fuck, he's broken down the walls I put up within just a few hours. What the hell is wrong with me?

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I'm sorry. I'm just sensitive sometimes."

Duff's face is once again full of disbelief. Damn, do I really surprise him that much?

"What?" I ask, feeling shy with his eyes on me.

He just shrugs, shaking his head. "I just find it hard to believe that the Henley is sensitive. You're one badass chick."

I laugh at his use of the word 'chick'. "You say that as if I'm some notorious girl that has a reputation."

"You kinda do," Duff responds. I furrow my eyebrows. What the hell is that supposed to mean? "Anyways, you never answered my original question."

"Huh?" Then it clicks in my brain. I never did answer his question. Fuck, I don't remember what it was.

"Uhm, what was it again?"

"What were you thinking about before we started this odd conversation," Duff laughs.

"Oh, right," I respond, looking at the TV for a moment. I turn my head to Duff, feeling a smile spread onto my lips. He's so fucking cute. His smile is absolutely adorable. It's different than other people's. I can't really explain it. He's different than other guys I've met. Yes, he did try to kiss me, but he backed off as soon as I pushed him away. He didn't try anything else and he's kept his distance. "I was just thinking about Madeline. Will she be alright with Steven?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Duff answers, taking a swig from that same bottle. "She's a big girl. She can handle herself."

I sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. "I know, it's just that she tends to not think things through. She gets herself into a shit ton of trouble all because she can't keep her mouth shut."

Duff laughs. "Sounds like someone else I know."

I blush, looking down at my lap. God, his laugh is like music to me. "I usually do a good job at shutting up. I was just a bit tipsy. If I get any amount of alcohol in my system, I can't shut up." The fight definitely sobered me up quick.

"Looks like I'll just have to keep my eye on you from now on," Duff says, nudging my thigh with his foot.

I laugh, looking back up at him. "You think we're still going to hang out after all this?"

"Of course we are. You're stuck with me now," Duff answers, giving me a heart melting smile. Fuck me, he's too good at making me feel.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," I say, deciding to be a little flirty. What could it hurt?

Duff shakes his head, running a hand through his gorgeous blonde hair. "It can be sometimes."

"I can't see how. From what I've seen of you since I met you, you're one awesome person to be around. Steven seems pretty cool too," I say, grinning at him.

"Yeah he is, but I can be-."

He's cut off by a sharp knocking at the front door. Duff groans, reluctantly getting off of the couch. He walks over to the door, opening it with a certain amount of sass. I giggle at him as he places his hand on his hip, jutting his hip out like a girl would. He looks back at me and winks. He's such a dork.

All of a sudden a ball of blonde hair pushes past Duff, toting a smaller dark haired person behind him. I grin as Madeline nearly falls from how Steven is pulling her.

"Stevie slow down!" Madeline yells, looking disheveled.

I take it those two had one hell of a night.

Steven laughs, pulling her into his arms. He kisses the top of her head. She grins, wrapping her arms around his waist. I smile at them. They really like each other. I guess I will be seeing more of Duff after all since Madeline will probably be hanging around Steven a lot.

"Aren't you two just adorable," Duff teases, sitting down next to me again. He's closer to me this time.

Just scoot over a little bit more.

I shake my head, trying to clear that thought from my mind. I focus my attention on the new couple in front of me.

Steven flips Duff off, giving one of his signature Steven smiles. "We're heading to bed."

Madeline and Stevie walk down the hallway without another word. "Don't have too much fun, kids!" Duff yells at them.

He's answered with a door slamming.

I giggle. "So I take it you and Steven live together?"

Duff lets out a mock sad sigh. "Yeah. He's such a pain in the ass."

I shake my head, laughing slightly. I yawn, looking at the clock again. Two o'clock in the morning.

"You tired?" Duff asks.

I try to shake my head 'no', but then my body decides to let out another yawn.

"I'll take that as a yes," He laughs, standing up. "Come on."

I get up, walking behind him. I'm way too tired to argue. Duff leads me into a bare room. The most he has is more records and a mattress laying in the floor. Duff walks over to the dresser that I somehow didn't notice, and pulls out some boxers and a shirt. He hands it to me.

"Here," He says. "I'm sure you don't wanna sleep in those clothes."

I smile, looking down at my feet. "Thank you." I walk over to the bed. "Could you at least turn around?" I turn to see a blushing Duff.

"O-Oh, yeah, right," He says rather flustered. He turns around, his head bent down.

I giggle, then change as fast as I can. "Alright, I'm done."

Duff turns around, a smile on his face. "Okay, well, I'll be on the couch if you need me."

"What? No," I say. "This is your bed. I can sleep on the couch."

Duff rubs his eyes. "I'm too tired too argue. Can we just share the bed? If that's okay with you?"

I nod, already climbing under the covers. I turn to face the wall. I feel the bed dip beside me as Duff gets in.

"Goodnight, Henley," He says almost in a whisper.

"Night Duff."

TAGS:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme 

@rock-n-roll-soul-frankie @unholy-brat @eak1996 @madsthegroupie @sinningsixx @kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

Duff: @daisystuffsstuff

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

She managed to acquire it for a very low and reasonable price. After all, who would use an old record now, especially with the booming technological culture that was steadily becoming popular with the younger generation?

She placed the delicate thing on her glass top table and took a good long look at it. Dante would pick her up any minute now, and she must definitely get ready for the mission ahead ( this time, a couple of magic - wielding higher Demons ).

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

With that in mind, and her strong belief in intuition ( not to mention Cassandra's constant meddling ), she picked up the vinyl record she bought along with the old instrument and proceeded to the task. And with a little help from an almost useless and age - old manual ( its pages were yellow and crumbling at the edges ) that came with the merchandise, she finally managed to play the song. She took a few steps away from the table and allowed the sweet, old music to soothe and calm her senses.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

And in that vision, she saw herself dancing the waltz with someone - a tall man clad completely in black. They were dancing to the same music that she was listening to, in the middle of the summer night, on a beautiful, Grecian balcony, below the starry, evening sky, the full moon shining above them.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

"Here." Nico mumbled sleepily as she handed V a mug of warm chocolate. He thanked the woman as he took it from her hands. He was about to take a sip when he noticed the woman giving him a suspicious look. She pointed two fingers at him and said, "Eh, so you're really Vergil, huh? Dante's twin brother?”

The man smirked as he finally took a sip of the warm chocolate, its enticing scent calming his tired and restless senses. He pursed his lips as he glanced at the calm and serene evening atmosphere from the balcony of (Y/N)'s unit.

"I was." He answered, his eyes darting from one cheerfully lit house to another. Some of the residents have already made their way back to their homes after the Dreadnought incident, and things were slowly going back to its normal and boring pace.

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

The man chuckled as he helplessly shook his head. He held out a single hand as little orbs of light radiated from it. The almost translucent orbs, then, spread out from his hand to his arm, then from his torso to his other arm. The orbs reached his entire body as the curious little lights morphed him back to the V that Nico was used to seeing - black leather vest, tooth necklace, a pair of unflattering black sandals, and all.

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

At the mere sound of her name, V's heart skipped a beat and his breath clearly hitched. The girl was sleeping in her room, unconscious since the whole battle with Pandemonium ended. He promised her sister that he would take care of him, and Galatea left her body as soon as she was done healing her.

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

His question came out like a soft breeze that was almost missed by the Artisan. She stopped sipping her chocolate and glanced back at V, seeing the man leaning on the railing and clearly looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

At those ridiculously accurate words, V bowed his head down low, trying to conceal his face until he could no longer endure the emotions. With trembling shoulders and teary eyes, he threw his head back, his low and evil - sounding laughter ripping out of his throat and scaring the hell out of Nico.

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes."

V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

With wide, doubtful eyes, Nico patiently listened as V recounted to her the events that took place in the Dreadnought, from the moment he stabbed (Y/N) up to the point where Fleminger stabbed him, taking the Sisters away from him and letting Pandemonium kill everyone.

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

... a spectral - looking hand reaching up at the railing of the balcony just behind her. V was definitely not one to get frightened of ghosts but, the vision did startle him. He focused his gaze into it as the creature climbed up the balcony as effortlessly as it could.

It was (Y/N), and she was, somehow, strangely barefoot. Her pants looked like they were burnt from the knee down, and her movements were as light as possible. She tiptoed her way to the window when she suddenly heard some voices inside.

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

While listening to the conversation inside, he saw (Y/N) as she tiptoed her way back closer to the window, lovingly gazing at something inside. Her eyes widened, then returned to normal once more. She raised an arm and wiped the tears that started coming out of her eyes with the sleeves of her pale pink hoodie.

She was crying, and yet she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

He closed his eyes at the sudden change, and when he opened them once more, he was suddenly transported to a sunny, suburban place. A little girl with dark pigtails was staring at him, her hands on her hips like a wife who was angry at her husband for coming home late and drunk.

He realized she was not directly looking at him, and this made him turn around. And to his surprise, he saw (Y/N). And just like in his vision a while ago, she was barefoot, and her pants looked burnt from the knee down.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

The little girl laughed and shook her head, making (Y/N) a bit surprised and culture - shocked. "Ella no habla Español. No te preocupes, yo me encargo." The girl turned to (Y/N) and pointed at herself, then her mother. "My name is Alicia. This is my mother, Maria. I go to English class every Saturday."

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

The woman, whose dark brown hair has clearly turned gray, looked up from her stitch work and stood, meeting the girls halfway and kissing the both of them on their forehead. V noticed that she now walked with a slight limp.

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

To this, Maria's face suddenly fell, a frown now gracing her warm and gentle features. She only shook her head and went back to her stitch work. And without saying another word, she sat down and went on with her work like nothing even happened.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"GO AWAY!" The girl screamed as she shut the door close. She then ran towards the sofa, grabbed Maria's old stitch work, and cried. The handiwork was clearly half - finished but, some words were visible from it.

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Oh, that! So, you've seen her?" Nico answered as she went back inside, V following close behind her. "You know, she's been to many places, more than what you could imagine. She's searching ten years for you, God!"

"Ten,… years?!"

"Yeah. She comes home often, though. She's learned to channel that power of hers to her feet and legs so she could move fast and jump to high places." Nico explained as she went to one of the drawers and pulled something out from it. "So, she's never really gone for too long. But, I'm gonna tell ya this: that channeling the power to her feet thing often burned her pants."

So, that's why,...

"I don't understand." V went on as he watched Nico flip through the pages of an old album. "She was searching for ten years, but I've only been to such places for three weeks. I was,… travelling. It's what I've been doing before coming here to Red Grave."

"Really? Well, it's a long story. Let's just say that she wanted to meet you because the entity that was possessing her wanted her to fulfill some kind of a mission. Don't ask." She handed the open album to V and pointed at one of the photos. "That's them."

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"Yeah, yeah! I thought at first she's just plain nuts. But, listen to this: the first thing she did after recovering was search for her family's old farm in Fortuna. V, there hasn't been a farm there since a hundred years ago! It's all concrete now, and streets.

"So, she searched for her parents and any people she could remember from her past. Some of them either died already or have grandchildren of their own. And her parents? She found out that they separated and had families of their own."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Exactly! She's, like, super old when you think 'bout it!" Nico went to one of the paintings and looked up at it. "And, not only that, her looks stayed the same for those ten whole years I knew her. Like, she's stuck or somethin’.”

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

Nico frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. She went on. "She craves for things from the past. So, she started collecting antiques like this. Other than helping her cope after being plucked from when she came from, these things she have reminded her of all the places she's been. They remind her of you."

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

Nico saw the confusion in V's eyes as he looked at the antique. "Oh, this? She bought this about a year ago. Thought she's gonna want to listen to old songs when she wakes up. So, I took it out. It's gonna get moldy with disuse."

The woman walked towards the door but, before she went out, she turned back to V. "I'll leave her to ya, V. Don't mess this up again." And then, just like that, she walked out of the door, leaving him alone with (Y/N).

The silence felt deafening, the darkness depressing. V nearly collapsed on the sofa as he carefully placed the album next to the record. He was about to touch it when he heard a loud tapping against the window. He turned around just in time to see Griffon and Shadow entering the unit.

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

V smirked, controlling his mirth and amusement as he looked down at the now human Shadow. After the cleansing, she has turned into a pale human girl roughly the size of a middle - schooler. Her long black hair that reached her feet was awfully unkempt, and the clothes that Lady lent her a while ago was too big for her.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"This girl took it badly when you threw them out during your mad state, if ya can’t remember. She looked for them all over the place and kept them with her." Griffon explained as Shadow gave the shoes back to V. She turned towards her fellow familiar and gave him a strange look. She, then, turned back to V with an angry, yet adorable, look. "Oh, and she's saying that she hates ya for hurting (Y/N). And that she will never forgive ya."

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"Well, you've been a naughty schtick! Ya should've been punished for bad behavior!" The bald Demon made a ruffling gesture that was much akin to his movements when he was still a bird and collapsed on the sofa. "So, happy with yer new powers?" he, then, asked sarcastically.

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

There was a moment of silence between the two, and during this very awkward time, Shadow took a liking to the old record on the table. She poked the thing with her tiny finger and managed to turn it on, its weird mechanism startling her and making her hair stand. She drew back to a corner, giving it a confused and cautious look.

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"It,... wouldn't hurt if we try." The poet quietly said as he placed the shoes on the table and took the vinyl record just beside the instrument. Apparently, the record was simply titled as "Nat King Cole". He began with the long process of playing it and when the music finally came out of it, he turned it off immediately.

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

"It's this song." He confessed with a shaky voice. With cold and trembling hands, he covered his mouth, already feeling the tears as they started falling down his blurry eyes. "It's,... from that evening."

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way, and forevermore, that's how you'll stay,..."

He stood up and went towards the window, all the painful memories of everything that happened within a single week coming back to him. He found the love of his life, danced with her, and lost her because of his foolishness.

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

But, this time, unlike any other vision he had of her, she looked like she was actually seeing him for real. She went closer towards him as he observed all of her movements. He held out his arms, hoping for his desire to dance with her once more to come across.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

"And forevermore,… that's how you'll stay,..." He felt a warm sensation on his body and realized that her vision was rubbing him on the back, her arms around him, wanting him to cease crying. He looked at her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "That's why darling,… it's incredible,… that someone,… so unforgettable,… thinks that I ‘am,… unforgettable too,..." His heart ached with each word he sang, feeling like they were directed towards him and making him feel guilty than ever before.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

She reluctantly pulled away from him as she looked at the door behind her. She opened her mouth and said something he couldn't hear, and turned to face him once more. She gave him a warm, and yet weak, smile as she held up a single hand to caress his face. After that, she stepped away from him and went to the door, looking at him one last time before finally going through it.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. Also for introducing Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @lessy86 , @diabeticsugarush , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤

***

She heard a knock on the door and heard Dante calling her name. She turned away from the lonely man, not really wanting to go.

"I'm coming!" She called back, then looked at her partner's anguished face once more. Despite the pain that she suddenly felt in her heart upon seeing a vision of him, she still made an effort to caress his face and smiled, reassuring him, hoping that he would understand. She left him standing there in the middle of the room.

And as she glanced back at him, the sight that greeted her hurt her even more. In fact, the pain was unbearable.

His tears were streaming down his face, his expression simply too painful to withstand.

He doesn't want her to go.

He,... doesn't want her to leave,...

***

[gaycrystalfemme]

Power Couple

Chapter 2: Flashbacks

I can't wait forever.

With that thought, Blue got distracted from finishing the last article of the thick law book she had been studying. She'll be taking the bar exam in a few weeks and getting held up over such irrelevant thoughts were detrimental.

Bzzzzzt!

Her phone vibrated. A message. It read:

"Honey, your whereabouts? I'm at the Stardusk café, currently. Would you care to join me?"

Blue started dialing Yellow's number. Before it was answered, Blue gently cleared her throat and adjusted her voice to a whisper. "Yellow. Yes, darling, I... Oh. Yes, as of the moment, I am at the library. I'd love to join you but what time will you be.. Oh. Yes, okay."

Yellow. She had fancied Yellow for the longest time since they were younger. And yes they were both female, but that did not deter her from harboring romantic feelings towards Yellow.

Not straight, huh? Oh, but there is no other way. There is no one else I'd be with if not my Yellow!

Blue would have this dialogue in her head every time she found herself questioning her feelings for Yellow. A glorious day it was when Yellow finally confessed. It was one of Blue's most prized memories.

~ ~ ~

Years Ago

"Blue, I.. Can we speak after etiquette class?"

Summer time, it was supposed to be leisure time for normal kids. But they were not normal kids. They were members of the handful elite.

Young Yellow is studying culture, languages, and etiquette over the summer. Her friend, Blue, is also doing the same. They were in different classes though.

They spend the few months at a prestigious academy, known only to the very wealthy, honing and learning new skills. However, what mattered most was their status, their image, the expansion of their empires, their ability to lead. They had to be perfect.

Blue could not concentrate. Ra, La, or was it Fa? She was looking at Chinese characters but nothing seems to click in her head aside from what Yellow left open-ended earlier.

What is she going to tell me? Could it be that she has a boyfriend I don't know about? Did she agree to date the guy who owns the winery? Or the son of the owner of the Yacht club? Or worse, could White have set her up with a groom of her choosing?? Should I confess my.. Oh my lord, what am I gonna do?!

Over the years of befriending and getting to know Yellow, Blue gradually saw her as more than a mere friend. She began seeing Yellow in a romantic light. Perhaps due to their conversations, maybe their shared appreciation in fashion, maybe Yellow's hidden compassion.

One time, Yellow shared her juice box with Blue just because she knew Blue loved that so much. From then on, Blue felt a spark. It's like she's a person and not just some elite being. An equal to Yellow. On other occasions, Yellow would touch her shoulder or her back as a sign of camaraderie, and she'd have thoughts of their hands intertwining. Before she knew it she was secretly pining over Yellow.

By the bench at the school park, Yellow was seated waiting for Blue. She was usually stiff and serious even at a young age, but today she was obviously restless and sweating.

"Yellow, have you been waiting long? Sorry, I just got out of language class. I came as fast as I could."

"It's fine, Blue. Let's.. walk, shall we?"

Blue was nervous herself. Both of them walking side by side but awkwardly. Yet neither could take notice as they were both immersed in their own heads. There was an unspoken presence between them. Doubts, fears, uncertainties, feelings..

"Blue, I.."

They had been walking for a while, perhaps about thirty minutes, until they stopped in an empty and secluded patch in their academy. Since only very few enrolled during the summer, it seemed like the place was entirely theirs. Yellow held Blue's hand and, with all her might, looked Blue in the eyes.

"Blue, I have.." Yellow gripped Blue's hand tighter.

"Yellow? What.. What are you trying to say?" Blue's chest tightened with Yellow's grip. Flutter, uncertainty, confusion: all at once.

Yellow could no longer contain herself. She was always the type to attack. At that moment, she deemed words would be insufficient. She decided, instead, for a grand approach.

With her right hand still holding Blue's, Yellow stationed her other hand at Blue's shoulder for anchor. She pulled her subtly trembling body towards Blue. Their faces had never been this close. So close, she could smell Blue's breath and their noses could touch. Yellow closed her eyes and softly, for the first time, kissed Blue in the lips.

"Blue, I've.. I have feelings for you! And if this.. information would terminate our friendship, then so be it."

"Yellow.."

Blue was undeniably shocked with what just transpired. It took a few moments before she could grasp the situation.

"I feel the same, Yellow. For the longest time! I'm beyond the stars just knowing you feel the same way for me!"

"Blue, would you mind if we be exclusive?"

"I.. I love you, Yellow!" Blue sloppily and ungracefully lunged towards Yellow's face and sealed her response with an inexperienced kiss.

~ ~ ~

At the Stardusk Café

Where the hell is Blue?!

Yellow grew impatient by the second. Her temper was easily thrown off the window. Sometimes it was her weakness, sometimes her strength. She tried her best to manage it though, especially whenever the situation involved Blue.

While Blue was busy with the upcoming bar exam, Yellow was busy negotiating with various clients. She was expanding her business in Asia. And though they had been together for a while, it had become more difficult to see each other. Especially since they were building and expanding their careers.

Yellow's hotheadedness was mainly caused by the excitement and frustration to see her darling, Blue. She wanted to see her, to be with her. But there was too little time.

"Honey," Blue had finally arrived. Yellow's temper melted with the sight of Blue.

"Blue, you took long enough."

"What?! You told me eight. And it's just five minutes before eight! Pearl drove as fast as she could. Anyway, can we eat somewhere? All the studying left me famished."

"Okay, Blue. But I need to get home by ten. Ten thirty at most. I'll be meeting a client early tomorrow. You know, with Mr. Cho. It's a make or break for the company, so.."

"Yes, darling. I get it. I have to be early too. I'll be speaking with the current chief executive lawyer of the firm and review a few contracts so the turn over would be smooth once I pass the exam."

"Yes, of course."

They steadfastly left the café and went to dinner at the nearest fancy restaurant. After dinner, it was already past ten. So in compliance to Yellow's assigned curfew, they decided to go home. Yellow's assistant was driving them as Blue sent hers earlier after dropping her at Stardusk.

First route was to drop Blue off, then to Yellow's house. In the backseat of Yellow's gold car, Blue closed her eyes and rested her head on Yellow's shoulder. Yellow held Blue's hand.

"Yellow, this is becoming more difficult. We barely see each other and when we do it's always in a haste."

Sigh. "I know, darling. But that's how it's supposed to be. We both have huge responsibilities."

"But maybe we don't have to haste every time. Maybe we could still be influential figures to society and still have time for ourselves. Yellow I want to spend more time with you."

Yellow kissed Blue's hair, "What are you suggesting?"

"You might think I'm silly but.. I want to marry you, Yellow! I want to be married to you, I want you to be my wife. I've thought about this and probably we can get to spend more time at least. You would come home to me, I'd come home to you. Life would be.. perfect."

Blue had sounded casual even if she may have wanted to inject more emotion to what she had just confessed. She had began to feel the fatigue of the day's work.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Yellow was in awe with what she just heard. Gently she pulled Blue away from her shoulder so they could face each other. It was obvious in her face that she was blushing.

"Are you suggesting.. we get married, Blue?!"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Of.. of course. That is unheard of!"

"But Yellow, it isn't. You know that. I don't suppose you enjoy our quick dates, do you? And what are we after this? It feels like we're just dating. For the next eternity, will we still be just dating? I want to be your wife! Do you not see that?"

Blue now all fired up with frustration from Yellow's response. She thought Yellow would want the same. It seems otherwise.

"Sorry if I lashed out like that. I'm.. I'm just.. tired," Blue submitted to defeat.

"No, Blue. Don't be. I'm sorry. Please know, I do want to be married to you too. We'll have to plan this, however."

"Yes, I know."

They arrived at Blue's mansion. As they approached the driveway, Blue tidied herself a bit before alighting the gold vehicle. There was a certain weight in the air from what they had just discussed.

She pecked Yellow goodbye but before she could turn away, Yellow whispered softly to her, "Blue, I.. I want to.. touch you."

"Oh. Then, uh, come. Stay with me tonight," she smiled softly but tiredly.

"Pearl, go home. I'll call you tomorrow when I need you. Be up early." Yellow took off with Blue, taking her fancy purse and laptop bag.

"Yes, Ms. Diamond." With that command, Yellow's assistant drove home without her.

"Do you have everything you need, honey? Paperworks? Contracts? Mr. Cho, tomorrow?"

"I believe everything is here," Yellow subtly tapped her laptop bag. "I'll just have Pearl bring whatever I left, if there is any. Perhaps a set of clothes! Is.. is it okay if I stay tonight? I feel like we need to.. talk."

"Pfft! You know it's fine."

This wasn't the like usual nights they'd have. Usually these quick dates would end up where they both go home separately. Occasionally, they'd come home to one's home and spend the night. But when and if they do, it had to be scheduled. Finding time for such an activity weren't as easy given the things they have to deal with on a daily basis.

Yellow suddenly felt the urge for Blue. Perhaps due to the pressure of her company's expansion. Perhaps due to Blue's upcoming bar exam. Or probably due to the marriage bomb Blue had just dropped earlier in the car. She wanted them to connect physically that night.

They both started making out and undressing each other once they reached the master bedroom. They couldn't stop touching and kissing each other. Not being able to do this for a while had its perks. They took a bath together, and, after doing so navigated to the bed.

Now, the only universe that mattered was theirs. They melted into each other's love and smooches and caresses. They moaned and screamed like there was no one else in the world. Blue had particularly felt like being on top was appropriate that night, so she took the role and made Yellow feel ecstatic beyond the heavens. After Yellow reached her peak, she made Blue feel heavenly as well. From the moment they reached Blue's room, it took probably two or three hours before they both finished.

Panting, both now sweating and were facing one another. Yellow cuppped Blue's cheek and softly kissed her.

"Blue. Let's.. get married."

"Yellow I thought-"

"Everything you said earlier in the car, I want that too! To come home to you and you to me, yes, I would love to be able to do that. I've always loved you, Blue. I don't think I can ever be with anyone else! Please, will you be my wife?"

"Yellow, I.. Yes! Of course!" Blue bursted in tears, but that of joy. Happiness she couldn't contain.

Yellow pulled Blue closer to encapsulate her in the warmest most loving hug. "It's settled then. We'll only hire the best."

A wedding was on the way.

Mrs. Diamonds. It sounded perfect for them both.

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

She managed to acquire it for a very low and reasonable price. After all, who would use an old record now, especially with the booming technological culture that was steadily becoming popular with the younger generation?

She placed the delicate thing on her glass top table and took a good long look at it. Dante would pick her up any minute now, and she must definitely get ready for the mission ahead ( this time, a couple of magic - wielding higher Demons ).

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

With that in mind, and her strong belief in intuition ( not to mention Cassandra's constant meddling ), she picked up the vinyl record she bought along with the old instrument and proceeded to the task. And with a little help from an almost useless and age - old manual ( its pages were yellow and crumbling at the edges ) that came with the merchandise, she finally managed to play the song. She took a few steps away from the table and allowed the sweet, old music to soothe and calm her senses.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

And in that vision, she saw herself dancing the waltz with someone - a tall man clad completely in black. They were dancing to the same music that she was listening to, in the middle of the summer night, on a beautiful, Grecian balcony, below the starry, evening sky, the full moon shining above them.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

"Here." Nico mumbled sleepily as she handed V a mug of warm chocolate. He thanked the woman as he took it from her hands. He was about to take a sip when he noticed the woman giving him a suspicious look. She pointed two fingers at him and said, "Eh, so you're really Vergil, huh? Dante's twin brother?”

The man smirked as he finally took a sip of the warm chocolate, its enticing scent calming his tired and restless senses. He pursed his lips as he glanced at the calm and serene evening atmosphere from the balcony of (Y/N)'s unit.

"I was." He answered, his eyes darting from one cheerfully lit house to another. Some of the residents have already made their way back to their homes after the Dreadnought incident, and things were slowly going back to its normal and boring pace.

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

The man chuckled as he helplessly shook his head. He held out a single hand as little orbs of light radiated from it. The almost translucent orbs, then, spread out from his hand to his arm, then from his torso to his other arm. The orbs reached his entire body as the curious little lights morphed him back to the V that Nico was used to seeing - black leather vest, tooth necklace, a pair of unflattering black sandals, and all.

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

At the mere sound of her name, V's heart skipped a beat and his breath clearly hitched. The girl was sleeping in her room, unconscious since the whole battle with Pandemonium ended. He promised her sister that he would take care of him, and Galatea left her body as soon as she was done healing her.

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

His question came out like a soft breeze that was almost missed by the Artisan. She stopped sipping her chocolate and glanced back at V, seeing the man leaning on the railing and clearly looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

At those ridiculously accurate words, V bowed his head down low, trying to conceal his face until he could no longer endure the emotions. With trembling shoulders and teary eyes, he threw his head back, his low and evil - sounding laughter ripping out of his throat and scaring the hell out of Nico.

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes." V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

With wide, doubtful eyes, Nico patiently listened as V recounted to her the events that took place in the Dreadnought, from the moment he stabbed (Y/N) up to the point where Fleminger stabbed him, taking the Sisters away from him and letting Pandemonium kill everyone.

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

... a spectral - looking hand reaching up at the railing of the balcony just behind her. V was definitely not one to get frightened of ghosts but, the vision did startle him. He focused his gaze into it as the creature climbed up the balcony as effortlessly as it could.

It was (Y/N), and she was, somehow, strangely barefoot. Her pants looked like they were burnt from the knee down, and her movements were as light as possible. She tiptoed her way to the window when she suddenly heard some voices inside.

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

While listening to the conversation inside, he saw (Y/N) as she tiptoed her way back closer to the window, lovingly gazing at something inside. Her eyes widened, then returned to normal once more. She raised an arm and wiped the tears that started coming out of her eyes with the sleeves of her pale pink hoodie.

She was crying, and yet,...

... she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

He closed his eyes at the sudden change, and when he opened them once more, he was suddenly transported to a sunny, suburban place. A little girl with dark pigtails was staring at him, her hands on her hips like a wife who was angry at her husband for coming home late and drunk.

He realized she was not directly looking at him, and this made him turn around. And to his surprise, he saw (Y/N). And just like in his vision a while ago, she was barefoot, and her pants looked burnt from the knee down.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

The little girl laughed and shook her head, making (Y/N) a bit surprised and culture - shocked. "Ella no habla Español. No te preocupes, yo me encargo." The girl turned to (Y/N) and pointed at herself, then her mother. "My name is Alicia. This is my mother, Maria. I go to English class every Saturday."

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

The woman, whose dark brown hair has clearly turned gray, looked up from her stitch work and stood, meeting the girls halfway and kissing the both of them on their forehead. V noticed that she now walked with a slight limp.

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

To this, Maria's face suddenly fell, a frown now gracing her warm and gentle features. She only shook her head and went back to her stitch work. And without saying another word, she sat down and went on with her work like nothing even happened.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"GO AWAY!" The girl screamed as she shut the door close. She then ran towards the sofa, grabbed Maria's old stitch work, and cried. The handiwork was clearly half - finished but, some words were visible from it.

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Oh, that! So, you've seen her?" Nico answered as she went back inside, V following close behind her. "You know, she's been to many places, more than what you could imagine. She's searching ten years for you, God!"

"Ten,… years?!"

"Yeah. She comes home often, though. She's learned to channel that power of hers to her feet and legs so she could move fast and jump to high places." Nico explained as she went to one of the drawers and pulled something out from it. "So, she's never really gone for too long. But, I'm gonna tell ya this: that channeling the power to her feet thing often burned her pants."

So, that's why,...

"I don't understand." V went on as he watched Nico flip through the pages of an old album. "She was searching for ten years, but I've only been to such places for three weeks. I was,… travelling. It's what I've been doing before coming here to Red Grave."

"Really? Well, it's a long story. Let's just say that she wanted to meet you because the entity that was possessing her wanted her to fulfill some kind of a mission. Don't ask." She handed the open album to V and pointed at one of the photos. "That's them."

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"Yeah, yeah! I thought at first she's just plain nuts. But, listen to this: the first thing she did after recovering was search for her family's old farm in Fortuna. V, there hasn't been a farm there since a hundred years ago! It's all concrete now, and streets.

"So, she searched for her parents and any people she could remember from her past. Some of them either died already or have grandchildren of their own. And her parents? She found out that they separated and had families of their own."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Exactly! She's, like, super old when you think 'bout it!" Nico went to one of the paintings and looked up at it. "And, not only that, her looks stayed the same for those ten whole years I knew her. Like, she's stuck or somethin’.”

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing"

Nico frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. She went on. "She craves for things from the past. So, she started collecting antiques like this. Other than helping her cope after being plucked from when she came from, these things she have reminded her of all the places she's been. They remind her of you."

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

Nico saw the confusion in V's eyes as he looked at the antique. "Oh, this? She bought this about a year ago. Thought she's gonna want to listen to old songs when she wakes up. So, I took it out. It's gonna get moldy with disuse."

The woman walked towards the door but, before she went out, she turned back to V. "I'll leave her to ya, V. Don't mess this up again." And then, just like that, she walked out of the door, leaving him alone with (Y/N).

The silence felt deafening, the darkness depressing. V nearly collapsed on the sofa as he carefully placed the album next to the record. He was about to touch it when he heard a loud tapping against the window. He turned around just in time to see Griffon and Shadow entering the unit.

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

V smirked, controlling his mirth and amusement as he looked down at the now human Shadow. After the cleansing, she has turned into a pale human girl roughly the size of a middle - schooler. Her long black hair that reached her feet was awfully unkempt, and the clothes that Lady lent her a while ago was too big for her.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"This girl took it badly when you threw them out during your mad state, if ya can’t remember. She looked for them all over the place and kept them with her." Griffon explained as Shadow gave the shoes back to V. She turned towards her fellow familiar and gave him a strange look. She, then, turned back to V with an angry, yet adorable, look. "Oh, and she's saying that she hates ya for hurting (Y/N). And that she will never forgive ya."

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"Well, you've been a naughty schtick! Ya should've been punished for bad behavior!" The bald Demon made a ruffling gesture that was much akin to his movements when he was still a bird and collapsed on the sofa. "So, happy with yer new powers?" he, then, asked sarcastically.

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

There was a moment of silence between the two, and during this very awkward time, Shadow took a liking to the old record on the table. She poked the thing with her tiny finger and managed to turn it on, its weird mechanism startling her and making her hair stand. She drew back to a corner, giving it a confused and cautious look.

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"It,... wouldn't hurt if we try." The poet quietly said as he placed the shoes on the table and took the vinyl record just beside the instrument. Apparently, the record was simply titled as "Nat King Cole". He began with the long process of playing it and when the music finally came out of it, he turned it off immediately.

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are.

Unforgettable, though near or far.

Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

"It's this song." He confessed with a shaky voice. With cold and trembling hands, he covered his mouth, already feeling the tears as they started falling down his blurry eyes. "It's,... from that evening."

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way,

And forevermore,

That's how you'll stay,..."

He stood up and went towards the window, all the painful memories of everything that happened within a single week coming back to him. He found the love of his life, danced with her, and lost her because of his foolishness.

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

But, this time, unlike any other vision he had of her, she looked like she was actually seeing him for real. She went closer towards him as he observed all of her movements. He held out his arms, hoping for his desire to dance with her once more to come across.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible,

That someone so unforgettable,

Thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

"And forevermore,… that's how you'll stay,..." He felt a warm sensation on his body and realized that her vision was rubbing him on the back, her arms around him, wanting him to cease crying. He looked at her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "That's why darling,… it's incredible,… that someone,… so unforgettable,… thinks that I ‘am,… unforgettable too,..." His heart ached with each word he sang, feeling like they were directed towards him and making him feel guilty than ever before.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

She reluctantly pulled away from him as she looked at the door behind her. She opened her mouth and said something he couldn't hear, and turned to face him once more. She gave him a warm, and yet weak, smile as she held up a single hand to caress his face. After that, she stepped away from him and went to the door, looking at him one last time before finally going through it.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. And for also introducing us to Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @ceruleanworld , @lessy86 , @ehrzeth , @diabeticsugarush , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤