#Mimics…. Pacing my room. Pondering. Mimics………

[fumifooms]

do you happen to have that page that talks about the beauty standards of each race?

Yeah sure. While scavenging pics for this I found this neat reddit compilation & chart & theory talk too. I had um, way more to say than I anticipated (I know you only wanted the one page. I have nothing to say for myself. Like most topics in Dunmeshi things snowball because they’re so interconnected. Mercy…) so, many races and observations are only mentioned near the bottom.

Beauty standards and race in Dungeon Meshi

Not pictured there’s also how elven society is harsh on visibly disabled people, and how the demon took away Mithrun’s silver eyes and ears to take away his pride. There’s also how Senshi might have fit in with the orcs more easily because of the dwarven wide body shape, and how they tend to have more body hair too I suppose. In the extra on orcs we see Senshi living with the orcs and he gets judged because of the hierarchy rather than his looks.

What is fashionable also differs from culture to culture, and there’s how tattoos only seem common with elves, though dwarves and others do also sometimes have some. They seem to not raise much brows, which makes sense since for many essentially they’re for professional (magical) purposes especially with elves. Gender roles also differ in type and importance, but generally they are similar to irl ones for the races we see. Elven society seems to be the least gendered, which would be an unsurprising logical outcome of having lesser sexual dimorphism aka they look more androgynous. Comparing fashions and gender roles and how they affect beauty standards would be a whole other compilation and conversation. Kui has great worldbuilding partially because she’s got such a good grasp on sociopolitics and geopolitics. History affects cultures and beauty standards greatly. Kui’s oneshot Distant Utopia was very eye opening on her way to worldbuild and the consideration she gives these things, I do really recommend reading it.

Out of the big 5, we know the least about gnomes, but their sheet does say both culture and region are similar to dwarves’ and they end up being confused together often, so we can imagine the beauty standards are similar to dwarves’ as well.

I wanted to touch on this in a post eventually, but how one daydream hour page said half-foots tended to be curvaceous like in the artwork below puzzled me for a long time, all the half-foot characters we see during canon are rather slender and lanky after all, Chil’s succubi also being more curvy than plump. Economics are for sure a factor in that I imagine, the half-foots characters we see are all implied to be some flavor of poor or malnourished, as are half-foots depicted as empoverished oppressed minorities in general. Even comparing the artwork with the half-foot sheet’s depicted average half-foot, the ones on the left seem bigger. Wouldn’t it make sense though, if unlike dwarves half-foots don’t have similar naturally wide bodies, yet due to idolizing dwarves they work towards having a similar body shape/type to emulate them?

It’s said half-foots tend to stick to pretty ethnically homogeneous regions (aka half-foots-only communities) unless they move to the big city with ambition to try and make it big (like Chilchuck and his wife & kids did), and that’s interesting imo because then that would mean that in a ton of half-foot communities, they rarely see or interact with dwarves whom they try to emulate. Of course, one thing about beauty standards is that when they get adopted, at one point it stops being "this is how dwarves look and so this is how half-foots should look" and just becomes "this is how half-foots should look", most people feel as though beauty standards aren’t learned but innate, so I figure the half-foots wouldn’t have any problem still seeking dwarvish traits when there are no dwarves around.

There’s also stuff you can glean here and there if you want to extrapolate more. Like how in the race swap artworks, Mickbell is only smiling in the dwarf portrait, and Rin’s elven portrait looks very close to her elven one- Rin who is stated to be beautiful in her profile blurb. Benichidori’s extra does teach us tallmen can definitely have harsh beauty standards, but also since the text portrays her as very dysmorphic that’s likely reflected in her thoughts to a much more intense degree than is common, not an accurate strict baseline to go off. Ah, Kabru’s blue eyes are also why he and his mother lived a rough life in Kabru’s hometown, but that seems to be regional. Good post here on the topic of Kabru’s blue eyes and ties to irl history. There’s a lot to be said about Kabru being a man that in many ways is close to elven beauty standards, and how that might have affected or been affected by his upbringing with elves + his persona as someone that can effortlessly charm most people. Marcille’s section here in this essay also goes into Marcille’s struggles to fit in with the ideal image of an elf.

Looking human

Also notable are beastkins and demihumans: Demihumans are all dehumanized which makes people treat them worse. So if you differ from the visual idea of "human" (an in-world subjective categorizatiom just as much as demihuman is) most people do judge you negatively. Elves and dwarves get to fight about which type of human is considered the prettiest, but demihumans are below tallmen and half-foots, they are considered as simply below the beauty contest, incompatible with it.

Onis are perhaps the demihuman people we know of with the least cultural influence on the dunmeshi world, and with less intensely different appearances than other demihumans, but even them are treated as lesser than human, treated as beasts to slain for reputation points or useful strength to have around and command. It’s said their "magnificient horns" and fangs are often shaven off when the oni lives in tallman towns, so you could easily make the argument that onis are denied the right to have their own beauty standards, having to conform to other people’s and going through mutilation to take away features they might otherwise have taken pride in. Inutade was bought by the Nakamotos from a dangerous sumo fighting ring that got one of Inutade’s tooth broken on her first and only fight. Remember when I said different fashions existed in dunmeshi and how those could also affect beauty standatds? Like the elves, if you look at the portraits pages that include a lot of characters that aren’t in the story you can see distinct cultures within the same races, for example one young elf is bald which is in sharp contrast with usual elven long luscious hairstyles, and that’s especially true for onis I think. Maybe not only from different regions but different eras as well… They have a bit of population in the very north of the western continent, so I like to think some of the ogres live in very cold, maybe even subarctic conditions. The point I’m getting at here is that within a race, culture/ethnicity like with Kabru as well will also influence them, different communities will have differing beauty standards. The oni history blurb and third row first collumn portrait remind me of Mongolia (which historically was a lot of different nomadic communities with different cultural identities as well. Something something, the oni empire experienced a decline and then tallmen overpowered them, and now they’re governed and split apart by stronger social classes & slavers and the richness of culture was hurt for it), but obviously many of them are dressed and look rather japanese, makes sense considering living in/close to Wa, and first row second collumn portrait reminds me of ainus which again would be logical considering geographical placement, though I’m far from an expert. Interestingly, ainus are indigenous people both in Japan and Russia- Perhaps the northern western continent ogres are meant to be closer to Russia than Canada like I imagined? Ok tangent over.

The kobold sheet says they’re especially sought after as slaves because they’re "adorable", but locally in the western continent they’re repeatedly said to be seen more as ferocious and dangerous. The dehumanization is most apparent in the first comic below. The language barrier and conflicts no doubt worsen this by a lot, but I think it’d be hard to deny that their canine appearance makes the dehumanization worse. "They’re ferocious beasts, they’re demihumans, they can’t be communicated with". Most characters in Dungeon Meshi’s world are desensitized to slavery and most characters are prejudiced one way or another. Point being, kobolds are fully removed from human beauty standards, but no doubt for kobolds, other kobolds are more beautiful than humans are. They’re assumed to be an uncivilized bunch, but just like any other people they like to aforn themselves with nice clothes and jewelry and keep themselves clean and groomed; they too take care of their appearance and take pride in it.

And the orcs! This one we have the most contact with in canon, with not only there being foreigner characters from the ethnicity or hearsay of their homelands and culture but full on contact with a community. We get to see up close what they’re like and what they think, and of course in turn they’re our introduction to how demihumans are harshly looked down upon and seen as inferior, less human and thus less worth valuing and less dignified. It’s text that orcs are ugly to most humans and humans are ugly to most orcs. Since I judged they didn’t need accompanying explanation the pictures showing this are in the pictures dump at the top.

God forbid you sell vegetables to orcs my god- but then again they do basically mandate adventurers to kill any orcs they come across so yeah the world isn’t above that even a bit.

So yes, my main point here is simply that orcs are yet another evidence of the physical ideal of "human" being an important beauty standard for human societies globally.

Izutsumi is our glimpse at how beastkins are treated in the world, and in Wa at least that’s ending up being caged and mistreated as part of a freak show. Izutsumi hates her appearance and wishes she could leave the feline part of herself behind to only be human. Interestingly, not that we have a lot of info on them so this is very much a take with a grain of salt situation, but there seems to be less stigma around artificial beastmen, those who can shapeshift at will. The main difference is of course appearance, that most of the time they simply look like average tattooed humans. Artificially creating humans is an illegal practice, and no doubt it’s not well regarded, but being able to hide that makes them less likely to be discriminated at any moment, or even just discriminated less intensely. Again, looking human is important, not only for belonging but for safety’s sake. Beauty standards rule the world with harsh hands.

Mermaids and fishmen

Ok we’re done now right? Right-! But wait… Wait…! Mermaids and fishmen are said to be demihumans too, special separate cases to the main three demihuman species however, which is also represented by how mermaids and fishmen both are in the Adventurer’s Bible chapter Monsters meanwhile ogres, kobolds and orcs are in the chapter World. They’re an interesting topic because they directly tackle this topic, not only in a meta way for the readers but also making characters themselves struggle to quantify their humanity with the goal of knowing wether they should be eaten or not, especially Chilchuck. Chilchuck’s "is it really just a matter of feelings?" mini arc.

The party asking themselves "Should we eat this?" is very common, and often they end up playing a little loose on morality, like eating the red dragon’s meat despite it having digested Falin. Not unsimilarly Marcille freaks out a little over the vegetables they harvested having been grown with fertilizer, aka largely human poo. Half of the motivation of "should we eat this perhaps sentient creature" is out of consideration and compassion, but more strongly and more often, the characters struggle with a sense of taboo at eating something too closely related to humans. Even, feel uncomfortable because of the deepseated impression that eating it would dirty them in some way. Cannibalism is an interesting and relevant topic in many ways, but what I want to mention is how there’s the more or less universal belief that committing cannibalism inherently taints you as a person and turns you more monstrous, morally but also literally depending on some myths such as w*ndigos and onis in some cases, like in Touge Oni. Marcille and Izutsumi both express a fear of eating monsters turning them monstrous. Maybe this is part of what Laios was hoping for, honestly. There are two fears here, if eating a demihuman monster constitutes as cannibalism or not, and so, will eating it taint you because it’s a human, or will eating it taint you because it’s a monster? You are what you eat, until it’s a little too literal. You morally are the means by which you get your food, and you physically are the result of your nutrition. Dungeon meshi manages to mix an exploration of humanity with the theme of food because our relationship to food is very deep and complex, psychological as much as physiological.

In the end, the characters sort of shrug and accept that they’ll never quite understand the world of mermaids and fishmen and how they operate, and what that means about them. Laios is the one always challenging these notions other characters take for granted, it’s not obvious to Laios why people are softer on mammals than other animals and plants, it’s not obvious to Laios why people would be afraid of eating a monster just because it’s a monster, it’s not obvious to Laios why some food is gross to Marcille but not fish testicles, it’s not obvious to Laios why you should immediately regard orcs and kobolds badly.

"Cows are probably closer to humans [aka closer to being human] than fishmen, though they’re clearly intelligent", dehumanization to lessen empathy towards them to be able to eat them. Meanwhile, mermaids seemingly have a less noticeable "civilization" or intelligence, they hunt in groups like fishmen, but they don’t use tools and such, they feel more primal and similarly instinct driven, and yet… Do they attract sympathy more? Mammals, humans, is it because of their nature or because of their appearance?

Both the nature and appearance of fish are ones people don’t typically sympathize with. "Fish don’t feel pain", "goldfish only have 5 seconds of memory", "it’s okay to keep fish in completely empty bowls too small for them until they die from it", so many lies and misconceptions exist that make people less considerate of them. The average lifespan of a goldfish is 10-15 years, the record is 43, but they’re not seen as lives that really matter, so a lot of goldfish die in a few weeks of bad aquarium conditions. There’s a lot of research on animals evolving to look cute and appealing to make some predators want to kill them less and parents want to care for them more, including humans. First good google research result gave me this credible short article on the topic. In Chilchuck’s weighing wether a fishman is far enough from being human or not to eat, "face is 100% fish" is his biggest argument for it being more acceptable. The face, the most important thing for empathy and recognition. The face, the decapitated fishman one that falls into his hands next chapter.

To quote @room-surprise: "Chilchuck can't explain why it's wrong to eat the merpeople, even though it's NOT complicated. But the problem is Chilchuck would have to accept and acknowledge that the merpeople might be people? And that's outside of the worldview he passively believes, so he can't just say that, because he doesn't think that's true. But that IS why he "feels" it's wrong. And it's all you'd need to say for Laios to understand! But it would require acknowledging that maybe the way they're treating and talking about the merpeople is wrong."

The idea of Chil not being able to grapple with how maybe some monsters are more humans than they seem, him who had been an advocate of half-foots rights, half-foots who get undermined and treated as inconsequential sacrifices… Grappling with how he could relate to the merpeople’s situation almost, and pulling away because it’s so existentially horrifying. I do not want to see myself into an hostile fish-faced warrior I can’t communicate with. In a way this also relates to Chilchuck being the only party member who doesn’t see Izutsumi as a cat in the relationship chart, the only one to treat her with full human dignity. He knows the struggle to be taken seriously, he knows being infantilized and he knows what it’s like to be treated as less than human.

Below, you will see Chilchuck draws the line of where they become not okay to eat as when "they already look like mermaids". Above, there’s speculation that the algae hair is partly to mimic "the mermaids’ beautiful female form". Is it because mermaids are their enemies and the ambiguity might give them extra seconds to attack or flee? Is it to trick adventurers instead? It’s striking to me that this is what works, with the adventurers. Sure the fishmen are intelligent, but explicitly here, what makes them no longer acceptable prey to Chilchuck is that they look close enough to a mermaid, close enough to human. Mermaids who of course themselves have this form to entice and seduce and charm the adventurers they prey on. Chilchuck considers the intelligence due to the tridents, but most of his internal debate centers around their appearance, and the image of a fishman skewered sickens him. The power of mimicry… Mimic being a beautiful human woman. Mimic being cute, babies being wired to make us feel protective and softened. Half-foots, sometimes pretending to be children for scams or help or avoiding trouble.

The mermaids are only concerned by their differences and not their similarities, and have no trouble treating the fishmen as food rather than peers. To an outside perspective like us, the audience, all these categorization of "more human" and "less human" between onis and orcs and elves and tallmen etc seem stupid and unfounded, but to the people living in Dungeon Meshi’s world, elves may as well be mermaids while onis are fishmen, not alike at all, unworthy of empathy and thus fine to eat.

Ultimately, Dungeon Meshi promotes unity. It’s about seeking to understand the unknown and the misunderstood, the dehumanized and the inhuman. It shows the good that comes from seeking to understand what you do not, even when that’s one another.

[eldritch-spouse]

We’ve got tiny reader, tiny tce, what about tiny icon queen? 

“Oh, woe is me~ lost in a huge mansion spending what feels like an eternity wandering from room to room looking for my beloved”

Seriously though. Can you imagine how long it would take a shrunken person to make their way from a bedroom, probably down a flight of stairs, and into a dining room; where they finally meet up with their icon to show them what happened. 

The Queen is tiny 👑

Zizz is so in love with you like this. He was before, but now- You're literally plush sized. You have become his plush. He's going to put you in nice puffy clothes and nap with you held to his chest and just generally non-stop coo at you forever. He needs to kiss you on your tiny forehead at least twenty times a day or he will die.

Rinx is keeping you in his pockets. It's much easier to keep track of you at this size, it makes something in his little kleptomaniac, possessive brain very happy. Even though Rinx is the one with the orb-head, you'll find yourself the one being pondered intensely. He puts you on top of his tallest pile of riches and swoons to himself, giggling like a school girl.

Cero makes it clear that, although drastically smaller, you're still a Queen, and as such you must behave the exact same way. He'll get you smaller paraphernalia for the time being, keep carrying yourself elegantly. No, he's not carrying you because he likes the feeling of you on his palm, Cero just can't take your much slower pace. He has way too much fun putting you in a small dress but won't admit it.

Good news, Kalymir won't throw you at a wall. But intrusive thoughts tell him to squish you, so he doesn't hold you for too long. He does however, mock you the entire day. You're even weaker! It's hilarious to him. The King pins you with his thumb and index and watches you squirm to get out, biting and cursing. He wants a picture of you next to his DOOM guy figurine.

Vesper... Come on. You know he's immediately going to jam you in his slit. Get cozy in there, you're not leaving for a while, except when he really can't keep his cocks in anymore and doesn't want to crush you. That doesn't mean the debauchery is over, you won't be left alone for a long while, but you can rest on his fluff when you're too fucked out to care about anything anymore.

Vorticia orders her imps to lock you in a container she can't break, because she knows she'll just swallow you if she's left unsupervised with you for long enough. In fact, she spends the entire day trying to keep herself busy, a mixture of cuteness aggression and genuine hunger having her periodically stop to stretch her jaw around your container before she gets a hold of herself and apologizes.

Livius is squealing out loud. He might enter cardiac arrest at his young age. He gets you a little outfit like his and beads he can put in your hair yo mimic his rings. And then he just carries you absolutely everywhere like an invaluable treasure, hissing and snapping at whoever stares at you. With his Queen like this, there's nothing that could steal your attention from him. Why, he just has to wrap his hands around you and hide you from the world.

[oracleact]

I have no idea why but I keep thinking about how I’d react if some random creature just appeared in my room, or even outside my window. the more I think about it, the more I’m certain that I wouldn’t be frightened or nervous. I’d basked in the moment instead if I’m able to.

an alien, for example, crash landed in the field beside my house and is now panicking: unsure if the air is safe enough, no supplies to clean up the fresh wounds he has, no directions on where to go from here.

pat pat pat on my window, making me nearly jump out of my skin. I ignore it that once thinking it’s probably a branch or something.

pat pat pat again. I get up and walk slowly to the window - drawing the curtains back at the same pace. softly illuminated by the desk lamp on the other side of my room is this giant creature in what appears to be some rubbery work overalls, but nothing like I’ve ever seen before...it kind of looks like something you’d see at nasa...well, all of this being is nothing like I’ve ever seen before anyway.

squishy, turquoise skin with speckled patterns across the parts that are exposed, and an almost comically large pair of beautiful, deep blue eyes. his nose is flat against his face, giving his structure a defined yet delicate appearance. amongst the oddities, he has hair just like ours - jet black, fluffy hair. shaved on the sides and up the back to leave the other untouched strands to flow freely; down to about chin length.

the creature takes a step back at my unexpected appearance, huge eyes blinking rapidly, somewhat startled as they weren’t really looking for any type of response. they were just searching for some shelter and tapped the glass to see if they could get in without making too much noise or causing excessive damage.

I hold up my hand and smile softly to reassure him that it’s alright before opening the hatch on the window. out of the two I have in my room, one opens fully as a fire exit window and one only opens a tiny bit for ventilation purposes.

“hello, are you lost?” I say to the alien in a hushed tone, careful not to wake anyone up. I press my face through the small gap in the window so that he can get a better look at me.

he seems to sigh in relief before saying, “oh thank the moons, I’ve landed somewhere I know!” I hush him with a finger to my lips and he mimics it instantly while looking around him. he begins speaking again but quieter this time,

“I was on a short journey to a partner planet of ours back home, but something went wrong. terribly wrong. interference with navigation and I couldn’t control the craft. everything went down. I knew I was going to crash but I didn’t know where since all of the systems were down. I’m glad I tapped on your window and not someone else’s though...they might’ve chased me down that steep hill.” we both giggled, understanding that trying to lighten up the situation will make us both feel better.

“that would explain the cuts and stuff on you then - please come inside, it’s cold and it’s not good for you to be out here by yourself. you can explain more inside. please?” I wait for his reply after that. he ponders for moment while looking down at the ground, pressing his smooth, almost slimey-textured hands together in thought.

“it will be just me here with you. everyone else is asleep. I’m blossom by the way, it’s really nice to meet someone so different from myself.” ah, that did the trick. he smiles and gives me a nod.

“revv. you can call me revv. nice to meet you, earth-born,” his teeth appear sparkly and bright as he smiles before stepping forward closer to the window.

[kokororyuu]

miles apart [levi ackerman x reader]

synopsis: “you’re going to die,” “i know,” “you’re dying,” “i know, levi, i’m sorry,”

warnings ⚠️: major character death(s), SPOILERS up to season three, slight suggestive themes (its brief!!), brief description of gore

word count: 3.8k

author’s note: no, because,,, this was my first levi fanfic, and i’m immensely proud of it ‼️ if we ignore the “suggestive” part 😩😩 anyway, have fun reading, lovebugs <33

PART TWO: once more

whatever just happened, had happened too fast, and now both you and levi were laying side by side, miles apart from everyone else and the chaos that caused this whole mess in the first place.

you’re both injured bad from the war, and the stench of blood, both humans and titans alike, lays thick in the air. you find yourself nearly suffocating in it as you cough up what seems to be more blood, it’s metallic taste coating your lips and tongue in red.

you can barely feel your arms and legs, and you’re pretty sure they’re either broken or torn off from the fight. you pull your heavy lids open and stare blearily at the night sky, how many hours had passed since you two had been laying here like this?

you turn your head slowly, hearing the multiple cracks your joints made in the effort as your eyes trailed to levi’s face. he’s still in the same position, facing the sky with empty, soulless eyes. you reckon he was pondering something, how long were we gonna stay here? when will someone arrive to help us?

“levi?” you croak out, and he lets out a little rumble of acknowledgement. “are you okay?” what a stupid question... with how levi is, he definitely isn’t, but he was sure to make it seem like he was. he nods to the best of his ability, though he isn’t faring much better than you. gashes that gush with blood cut across his body in what seems to be parallel and equal in length, claws, of some sort, you assume. “good,” you whisper so softly that he almost doesn’t catch the murmured word.

your life seems to be flashing before your eyes quite slowly for the amount of time you’ve spent here bleeding out beside the man.

you recall the first time you caught him off guard.

it was a complete accident. as a member of levi’s squadron, you worked under him as a subordinate and did as he said, after all, he had chosen you to be on his team, and you put as much trust in him as he did in you.

you were bringing him some tea after you had dropped off a huge stack of paperwork in his office. you knew he needed it, after all, it had only been a few days after your most recent expedition and paperwork was a bore if you ever knew one.

a simple teapot and cup of black tea rested on the tray in your hands as you made your way from the kitchen to his office, acknowledging a few cadets that would respectfully greet you before going on their way. when you had finally made it to his door, you knocked gently before waiting for his usual question of your name and reason for entering.

a few seconds, maybe minutes passed, and you were beginning to think he wasn’t even there, but you hadn’t want the tea to go to waste, so you hesitantly pushed the door open with your foot, entering the sparkling clean room with tray in hand.

“captain levi?” you nearly bit your tongue (oluo would have laughed in your face if you did before biting down on his own) and froze with your head peeking inside the room at the sight of the man leaning his head against the back of his chair, his eyes closed and his usual frown wiped off his face.

it had you in a wonder, surprised that even humanity’s strongest (and grouchiest) soldier could have a face as calm as the one on his as he slept. you stepped as quietly as you could toward his desk, setting the tea down with care before you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand wrapped around your wrist.

your eyes traveled up the scarred and rough hand, up the toned arm, and looked straight into narrowed grey eyes. “what are you doing here?”

“got you tea, captain,” your nerves were calm now, and you spoke with a grin, “thought you would need it with all the paperwork commander tosses at you,”

levi’s hand lingered on your wrist a little longer before he pulled away and carried the steaming cup to his lips in his strange cup hold that you’ve tried to mimic yet still can’t get right. he drank a little, his face ever so stoic. “tastes like shit, brat,” he said, though he made no move to drop the cup back into the tray and continued to sip away at the red orange liquid.

“thought you’d say that,” you turned to leave after saluting him, your hand wrapping around the doorknob before a mischievous impulse lit in you once more, “you know, captain,” he didn’t even glance up from the papers on his desk. “you look cute when you’re sleeping,” his gaze snapped up at that, and he was about to chew you out for making the comment, but to his dismay, you were already gone, having gotten the amusing response from him that you wanted.

there were many times after that where you’d make a little comment here and there, only to get an icy glare and a click of the tongue from levi, which wasn’t a problem to you at all, if anything, you found it the best part. the way he’d scowl at you and turn away, only to let you get away with it the very next day. it was like a little game the two of you would play, and you were winning if eye rolls, embarrassed blushes hidden behind callused hands, and, “tch,”’s counted as prizes.

you would’ve never thought he’d bite back, especially this far into the game.

“captain levi~!” you drew out his name with a little hop in your step. he didn’t stop walking, if anything, his pace sped up as he tried to leave you in the hallway. “captain!” you groaned childishly and ran after him. he turned the corner and into his office, leaving the door ajar. you grinned, it seemed he knew well enough you wouldn’t stop for a closed door. you opened it as soon as your hand touched the cool wood, and sang out, “levi~” you saw him standing by his desk and looking down at the papers that littered it. “i’ve got another joke for you—”

“—if you keep this up, i might actually get angry,” you halted in your tracks and clamped your mouth shut, angry? oh no, you weren’t trying to make him angry, only annoy him if anything. you knew, everyone knew to not get on levi’s bad side, and after seeing the man kick the titan shifter boy from the 104th cadets merciless, it’d be terribly stupid of you to try and anger him.

he dragged his fingertips across the tabletop and looked up through hooded eyes, “might even punish you,” you were stuck in a stupor at his words and how they obviously had implications for something else.

“but i guess you’d like that, hm? i wouldn’t want give you that satisfaction,” he seemed pleased with the way your cheeks flamed up and your jaw stayed dropped in shock. after he grabbed whatever he needed from his desk, he walked by you with a sly quirk of his lips, dragging a hand up to close your agape mouth. “close the door after you leave,” he called out before he disappeared out the door and down the hall.

-

from there on, your relationship had changed drastically. this game now had two players, and that new addition was the original target of the game himself. the teasing and playful jokes continued on for days, weeks, and you were having so much fun that you barely realized how much some people were noticing, including a certain bespectacled one.

“hey, hange!” you plopped next to them as you watched them fiddle with a little gadget. “what’s this?” you eyed curiously as hange laughed.

“my new creation! i’m trying to make something erwin asked for to help with his arm. you nodded, understanding immediately. the commander had lost his arm when the scouts went to save eren from a kidnapping. there was a few moments of silence before hange asked, “so… you and levi?”

you opened your mouth to retort but they beat you to it, “don’t deny it! even eren can tell, and he’s as dense as a rock!” you cowered from their accusing finger before huffing out a sigh.

“you know it doesn’t work like that, hange,” the mood dampened with your honest but hurtful words. you were right, it didn’t. with a world of titans and destruction, war like this, there would never be a second of peace, of life, of freedom. you could be alive and happy one day and then die and suddenly gone forever the next. and with levi being an ackerman, he was bound to survive longer than you, you just didn’t want to cause him more unnecessary pain.

hange hummed under their breath, “you’re right, but if it were me, i’d rather die knowing i had the chance and took it, than die letting it slip between my fingers,” they continued to tinker with the gadget as you pondered quietly on their words. they were right, but so were you, and now it was just up to the risk both sides were willing to take. what would happen if you ever confessed these buried feelings of yours to your terribly stoic captain?

-

in the end, you never said anything, at all. the two of you stayed at this sort of flirting and joking around type state. it was comfortable, you concluded, though you had to be honest, there were a few close calls where you felt you blushed too much, said too much, or gasped a little too loud when his touch lingered on you for too long.

you hadn’t said a word about your feelings for the man, and neither did he.

-

levi didn’t know when his heart had decided to let you in.

it was probably after erwin had passed away on a roof of a building with a gaping hole in his side that colored his cape and the white bandages around his abdomen red.

he brought his body back for a proper burial, but even then, levi couldn’t cry, nor let a single tear slip down his cheek. for a few weeks, even if he seemed put together, there was a heavy feeling that resided in his chest. no matter if he tried to sleep it away or drown himself in paperwork, it never left him.

it had been a rough night. there were complications with the imports from a faraway town in sina, and while hange was busy with things as the newly appointed commander, levi had to deal with the papers that came with the conflict.

he didn’t know how long he had been sitting before the fireplace in the mess hall, scratching away at the parchment under the warmth of the flickering fire that casted a warm orange hue around the room.

he clicked his tongue as another wave of aches hit his head before rubbing at his temples. erwin would’ve been better at handling this shit… his brow furrowed at his thoughts, you know better than that, there’s no bringing him back, you made the choice, levi.

levi didn’t regret his choice, but he had guessed the heavy presence of death had just stuck with him a little tighter this time around. it was fine, it would pass, at least, that was what he told himself.

during his turmoil, you had entered the mess hall as quietly as you could, “captain levi?” he looked up from the papers and pulled his hand away from his face with a quirked brow. “i brought you tea,” you spoke softly as to not agitate him any further. “i hope it tastes better than last time, i practiced,” you sent him a lopsided smile that you hoped would ease his frown, but instead, it brought the opposite.

the lines on his face became deeper as he scowled, “i don’t have time right now,” and the grumble of your name right after sounded harsh on both yours and even his ears. it was now your turn to pout. you definitely weren’t trying to mess around with him right now, not with all the stress and the recent death of one of his closest friends.

you sat there across from him at the table in silence for a few moments as he penned the paper. what could make him feel better? you thought quietly to yourself, your eyes raking over levi in search of something, any indicator to help him. a sudden idea popped in your head as you stood, making your way to stand behind him as you watched his eyes never leave the documents. “what are you doing?”

you reached over and plucked the pen from his hand, placing it down on the table and ignoring his glare, “just relax, levi, i’m gonna try and sort out these tense ass muscles of yours,” as soon as the words popped out of your mouth, your hands began to press into his shoulders, eliciting a little sound of surprise from levi. he almost immediately tensed back up at the foreign feeling but relaxed to the best of his abilities after a few pointed words from you.

“i’m not just here to get you tea, you know?” you worked out a knot in his neck, watching as his head lolled to the side to give you more room to work. “i had the same training as you, and i know how to handle paperwork, you could always ask if you need the help,” he hummed at your offer, and you only chuckled before getting back to his tense muscles.

levi let himself relax, more so than he probably ever had. your hands made their way up the base of his neck, and he let out a little sigh. he didn’t think this would feel this good, and he was considering what he could do to pay you back before realizing. what was the need to? you were doing the work of a subordinate for a superior, there was no need for him to treat you to anything.

but there was something that made levi realize that it wasn’t true, no matter how much every fiber in his body wanted to reject the idea. you were different, in your own weird way, and he couldn’t place his finger on it yet, but he decided he’d find out along the way.

“alright, you can work with me starting tomorrow, meet me here after dinner. if you’re late, i’m not letting you help again,” you smiled victoriously and pat his shoulders to signify you were done massaging them.

“alright then! see you tomorrow, captain,” you saluted him and shuffled out of the mess hall to leave him to his work.

the man held back a chuckle, sipping on the now lukewarm tea by his side. he had to admit, you were getting better at brewing his favorite drink.

levi’s heart felt a little lighter that night.

-

the two of you were almost impossibly closer after that. early mornings were spent with hange at important meetings and gatherings, most of the days were spent listening to hange rant about titans and ridiculous (but hilarious) and sometimes even useful plans, and late nights would be spent on paperwork and idle chatter by the warm fireplace in the mess hall.

the two of you would talk about nothing and everything, sometimes levi letting you talk his ear off as he added comments here and there or choosing to bask in each other’s silence as the flames beside you two crackled.

there were nights you fell asleep at the table, only to wake up in the middle of the night with a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one levi refused to share with you the night before around your shoulders that smelled of fresh laundry and lemons.

-

levi remembered all these little moments, including the time he had to yank a paper from under your arm to save it from your impending drool, or the multiple times he draped his cotton blanket over you and pulled it around your shoulders, his hands hesitating to pick off the dust that had resided on your cheek before gently brushing it off you and holding his breath when you’d twitch or move from his touch.

he still couldn’t really understand how it happened really, but spending time with you made him realize how much he liked the way you smiled at him no matter how annoyed he was with you, and the way you talked to him like he wasn’t humanity’s strongest soldier.

he felt normal, and strangely free.

and for some reason, he felt that if you ever disappeared from his sight, he’d lose this light feeling in his chest that outshined the bitter emotions he was always burdened with.

he didn’t want to lose you.

levi huffs, trying to control his unsteady breathing. there’s a feeling of discomfort that settles in his chest, and he’s not sure if it’s from just the cuts and bruises he obtained from the crash. you’re treating him like he’s fragile, like glass, and he hates it, sure, he’s broken, even he knows that, but he hates it.

humanity’s strongest soldier… he scoffs internally at himself, well, he feels pretty pathetic at the moment. he then outwardly scowls, gripping onto the pants of his torn uniform.

“you’re going to die,” he doesn’t mean for his words to sound so sharp, and he’s sure that his tone hurts you more than the gashes that litter your torso.

“i know,” he’s right, it hurts, and they seem to cut deeper than your wounds, as if someone struck your heart with a knife and twisted the blade.

his voice nearly breaks when he says this, but he stays... strong, “you’re dying,”

“i know, levi. i’m sorry,”

you know this man has been through so much, too much. he lost too many, has seen too much, he’s been through so many tragedies, and you still haven’t seen him cry, not once, and not now as you lay beside him, shivering and keeping your eyes open enough to watch him glare up at the night sky.

one last attempt, you think to yourself. you need to get his attention before it’s too late, before you fade away and disappear, but you can already feel your conscious slipping through your fingertips and your eyes drooping.

“levi…” your voice sounds pained when he stays turnt away from you and looks up at the moon, “i’m proud of you,” levi’s heart squeezes and so does his eyes, he doesn’t want to hear your soft voice right now, nor look at your mangled body, or hear the shouts of soldiers swinging around on their odm gear or the battle cries as they slice into titans’ napes.

you bite back a cry at his act of ignorance to your pleas for him to just look at you, and fall silent as your energy drains along with the blood that comes from you and him and soak into the earth. you meant those words, you mean what you said, and you beg him with your eyes focused on his high cheekbones to just spare you a glance while his stay glued to the twinkling stars.

it becomes so quiet, that levi begins to think you’ve already kicked the bucket with how he can barely hear your breathing.

he’s already preparing himself to do what he usually does, steel himself against the terrible emotions of survivor’s guilt and sorrow. every time he feels the twinge of depression and desperation creep up and wrap itself around his heart, he escapes to his mind, the logical part of him. the part that keeps him miles apart from everything, distance, safety.

he does it so much that you know, and you can tell he’s doing it right now with how tense his brow is and how the nails of the hand which lays between you digs into his palm. he’s closing himself off again, even after all these years you’ve spent together as comrades, partners in crimes, and what you hope was as friends.

you try to distract yourself some more, with anything really, the way his hair, though covered in blood seems to flow seamlessly to the sides of his head, revealing his undercut, and his eyes that stare silently into the endless blue sky, or the familiar smell of citrus and fresh laundry that you get from him even with the layers of smoke that are wafting from the ongoing battle burning your lungs or the smell of blood still seeping out from the both of you.

you want to hold onto the lingering hope that he’ll turn to you and at least say one last goodbye, or say those unspoken feelings he’s always hidden behind cool grey eyes, but he doesn’t say a word.

time is running out, and you need to say this, say this before you leave him like everyone else. levi’s fingers twitch when he hears you take in a sudden breath, your voice coming out quiet, weak, frail.

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” levi’s eyes open, and his head snaps toward you, and he regrets it, so bad. he manages to catch the exact moment the light, the life, fades from your very eyes he always thought were so gorgeous.

he’s lost his light.

you’re gone.

levi feels this terrible grip on his heart that makes him lose his breath and his head pound worse than it already is, and he chokes on the blood that gushes from his lips. his hand reaches out to you weakly, his arms, losing their strength, and he barely has the energy to keep his eyes open.

he almost can’t bring himself to do it, but he leans forward to press a shaky and hesitant kiss on the top of your head that he hopes conveys all the unsaid confessions he could’ve showered you with before your passing. his lips are warm, while your body turns pale and blue, and he finds it ironic how someone as kind and bright as you now seems dull in comparison to him.

as unshed tears pool at the corners of his eyes, your lifeless ones bore into his for the last time before he pushes them close with a touch of his hands over your eyes.

his heart, it hurts so bad, more than it ever has, and no matter how much he tries to push down the lump in his throat or the burning of his eyes and heart, it persists. he slowly falls back into his previous position, your corpse beside him losing its warmth and his steel grey eyes facing the moon once more.

the fuzzy lines around the full moon start to blur as he blinks a few times, the hues of white mixing with the blue of the sky, “it is…”

and finally, he lets himself cry.

explanations

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

this is a more poetic way to say “i love you” in japanese :D

“it is...”

this is essentially “i love you too” in reply to “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

[thatphatoven]

At the Beginning

 Diluc x Fem! Reader; Anastasia inspired Au

The lost Princess of Fontaine, with vague memories, journeys back to her homeland with the darknight hero trying to discover her past.

Chapter one

AN; This series will set place when Diluc leaves the dawn winery after his dad's death. I apologize if the information is inaccurate or the characters are out of their personality. Also, I used google for translation for some French, so if anyone wants to correct me, feel free. 

Word Count; 2,488

Unedited 

Like a mystery, the night held infinite uncertainty. The blanket of stars provided the comfort of light to bystanders bustling in the streets. Boisterous waves of laughter mingled with the notes of the viola, while at the same time, the patter of feet dances amongst the cobbled pavement as constant jeers chant words of ambition.

A short and stout plump man clambers on the wooden bar table, raising his pint of beer. "Vive la Fontaine!" He bawls. The swarm of drunkards mimics his gesture, laughably heaving their beers. Everyone adores the late-night festivities of celebrations. Conspicuously for a certain Princesse. All classes of the hierarchy were divulging on her 10th birthday. The common folk paraded in the streets, as the aristocrats partake in the Château. One devotee perched away from the horde, gripping his pint considerably tight. Resentment filled this man to the brim. His eyebrows creased at the carefree atmosphere while his teeth clenched vigorously. His unsettlingly deep brown eyes leered at the ripples of his beer. The Tavener in duty glanced at him, wary of his movements. "Are you not enjoying the night, Monsieur?" he questioned. The cloaked man remained mute, desire to be alone with his brooding. Having enough of the repulsive atmosphere,  he pushed the tankard towards the barkeep while fishing out a couple of mora before slamming it against the hard surface.

The barkeep raised a brow at the mug, filled to the brim untouched. "What a waste," he thought, his pupils trailed on that particular individual crashing into other patrons, not until he reached the knob of the entry, but only to slam it vigorously. Not one person wavered at his little act but happily drank more to feeding their drunken state. Outside the Tavern, least people loiter around the city streets. Only the occasional hidden couple is kissing in a dim alleyway as some hasten their journey back to their cozy homes.

Fog swarm the night while the chilly air nipped his skin. In a straight line, rows of oil lamps lit up the murky mist. He begins his stride of pace out of the precinct, and after turning and turning, this section of the city became less active. Only sealed up windows and abandon property lived here. He was passing an unkempt park, with rust and weed growing on the deteriorating swing set. There assigned next to it was where the citizens worship their God. A once tall, beautiful structure is now a decaying building with the statues nation archon, sat in the middle of the courtyard as vines grew on the idol. The wind whistled loudly, fabricating a frightening aura to his personality. Trudging up the cathedral's steps, he swiftly entered the church, in the process of ramming the heavy entree.

Crash.

Shards of a porcelain marble bowl were scattered on the flooring. The heel of his leather shoe crunched against the broken pieces as he stationed himself in front of the altar. Pope Marquis Puissant. A once righteous man was loyal to Fontaine's  God, now castaway for betraying the regality and abandonment of faith. A wicked man, they call him. Instead of the common holy word of the Archon, he was preaching of Ursa the Drake. A draconic creature that wasn't a God. That dragon, though it held an intense amount of power, enrapturing his attention. The local faithful became weary of his sudden turn on his faith which his reputation took a turn. Fewer attended the mass and begged the crown to disown him as a Pope. It was a late Sunday morning when the priesthood strips his power as a Vicar. In a rage, he stormed the Palace ground. "You're all nothing but halfwits blinded by power!" pointing at each, and of them, he cursed words of unpleasantries. "You wait, like this poor country excuse of a God, justice will be served."

Ever since then, he took shelter in a deserted church. Where there in the middle of the stone tablet laid a delusion. The Tsaritsa must have pitted the vengeful man, even if he's not part of the fatui. He will gladly serve two Gods. Now on the night of the beloved nation princess, Marquis will commence his revenge scheme, starting on the birthday girl.

"Higher Papa!" a giggle of chortle escape the young girl's lips. The man twirling her oblige, raising her higher in the air to the beat of the ensemble's melody. The puffy maroon gown fitted around her petite body, while the style of her long white hair swayed with every movement. The (e/c) pierced her fathers, carrying mirth of cheekiness. Sitting on the throne mirrored with the same features of the Princess sat a kind queen, with soft eyes smiling at the ridiculous scene of her daughter's ambitions. "Look at my beautiful Granddaughter." grey-haired, tied in a tight bun with a crown, sat snugly on her head. The Grand-mère watched the ballroom flock in high spirit. However, it was the girl that danced with her Father that held all that energy. "Have the Ragnvindr's arrive yet?" she questioned, looking at her daughter. "Not that I'm aware of Mother, but you should stop inquiring for rare alcohol from Master Crepus." "It's not my fault that the family makes splendid wine" The elderly woman hid her smile behind her gloved hand. "Besides, it's the offspring I'm after," they watched (y/n) grinned at her son-in-law, ruffling the girl's hair. "A charming man, with a charming boy. Don't you agree?" The queen let out a sigh at her Mother's antics.

"Grand-mère!" a small cheer escape (y/n). Pulling the layers of cloth, she began to hurry to the pair leaving her Father on the dance floor. Spreading her arms, the elderly accepted her hug and began smothering with small kisses on her round cheeks; her granddaughter laughed. "Look at you, my little lumière. All grown up," she squished her cheeks together, holding tenderness behind her blue eyes. "Now that I'm ten, you're going to teach me how to play poker! Right?" Tiptoeing closer to her, she held the throne seat, giddy of the thought. Her Mother stared at the child and Grandmother in disbelief. Chuckling nervously, she patted her hair. "Maybe wait until you're coming of age." (Y/N) pouted at her answer, leaving her explanation unreasonable. "But I do have a little gift for you instead." Grabbing the tiny Princess's palm, placing a red leather ring box. In a rush, the child swiftly opened the present. A gasp emitted from her. "Oh, Grand-mère! It's beautiful!" (Y/N) cried. A simple golden chain sat in the cushion, with the same colored ore boldly gleaming in the middle. "Together in Fontaine," reading out loud as she deciphers the cursive writing.  The two grinned at each other as her Grandmother help put the necklace together around her. "When you wear this, think of an old woman who loves you very, very much." (Y/N) nodded at her words, directing her attention to the lockets words—hugging her once more.

"Your majesty," a rich and velvety tone interrupts the tranquility. "Master Crepus," the aging regal announced. A tall, aristocratic gentleman with charm greeted the family. His attire consisted of a simple charcoal black two-piece suit, and the tie he was sporting matched his fiery red hair. A handsome man he was. "Finally declaring your arrival, it seems." she teased. (Y/N) gape at the lord, intimidated by his scarlet hooded eyes. "Apologies, I was struggling to convince my son to attend the party." Crepus sighed. "Is this the boy you took in? Kaeya was it?" The ensemble's melody began a new tune as she glanced at her associate.

“attentive as ever, your majesty." The older woman smirk at his reply, "when you reached a certain age, you recall every little detail." He let out a deep laugh only after he shakes his head. "Diluc was the one who managed to drag him." "Ah, the little Crepus did it?" "Indeed, he promised that he wouldn't abandon him during the party."  Their eyes trailed over to a smaller version of the man, who was currently dragging a bashful blue-haired boy across the room. "That little ball of light does have his ways."

(Y/N) fidget on her spot, feeling increasingly uninterested in the adult's discussions. Aware of her actions, Crepus near the girl and kneeled. "Happy Birthday, your highness." Only to pass his present for her. She lightened up at the gift and hugged it."Thank you, my lord." she smiled at his action while showing a missing tooth in the middle of her teeth. "You must be bored just listening to us old people talk," he spoke. Standing straight, he called to the pair of boys. The bubbly red-haired boy was the first to respond, pulling his brother behind him. The Grand-mère scanned Crepus prized possessions; the boy replenish with enthusiasm did take after his Father. The same color hair, all down to his features. While his adopted brother next to him possessed blue hair and sapphire eyes. Though it was the eyepatch that caught her attention, she raised a brow but didn't question. It was like comparing them to the sun and moon.

"Your highness," The boy greeted as his brother mimic his actions muttering the same sentence. "This is Diluc and Kaeya" Crepus put both of his hands on both children's shoulders. (Y/N) looked at them with awe; she has never come across with blazing hot and cold calm hair.  She ponders wanting those colors rather than her dull white hair. "It is an honor to be in your presence," Diluc address. "My, what a sophisticated son you raised." The women applaud. "That's Diluc for you." The group laughs at the small tease. The bold child reached the girl and stared. Uneasy, she dug her hands into the gown, afraid to look at Diluc. "You have pretty eyes," he said, still gazing. (Y/N) blushed at his compliment. "I like you and your brother's hair!" she returned—Kaeya observes behind his adoptive Father's legs, envious of his brother's daring personality. As the two new friends converse, he felt the older man nudge him towards the pair. "Don't be shy now, Kaeya."

As Kaeya approach the Princess and his brother, the girl let out a gasp. "Your eyes have stars!" she inspected closer, now flusters with her bold move. She kept rambling on waves of compliments towards Kaeya. Diluc giggled at the discomposed Kaeya and band in with more teasing. The child lifts his dark hands in defense, trying to calm them. Maybe it was better to stay back at the lodge.

"What's under your eyepatch?"

Kaeya stiffens at her direct question. All of a sudden, the air thickens, and the ambiance of unsettlement quickly replaces the mood. "(Y/N)," her grandmother warns. At once, she felt guilty at her grandmother's tone and the dismal Kaeya. "It's nothing," he whispers. The reflection of his face that the marble flooring held became more interesting. "I'm sorry." tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She feverishly struggles to hold back the tears, surprising the two boys. "Ah, Princess, don't cry," Diluc reassures, hastily stop her tears with his tie. "But I made him sad! What PrincessPrincess does that to her people!!" Shutting her vision, and her gloves gripped tightly, feeling the harsh material. Diluc looked at both disheartened children; at that moment, he suddenly felt restless. "It's alright, Kaeya doesn't mind that question, right?" looking at his brother for support, he nodded at his words. Then softly smiling at her. 

"Don't worry," he whispered.

The girl gape at him then mirrored his smile. Childish laughter once again replaces their sadness. "Princess, even though we live in another nation, the Ragnvindr's will always aid you," Crepus informed. "Yes! Kaeya and I will be your royal knights when you visit Mondstadt." Diluc hooked his arm under Kaeya while puffing his chest proudly. (Y/N) clapped her hands at his proclamation, "But Diluc were not knights yet." his older brother stiffen. "Maybe wait in five years."

The night crowd with freedom. Not one complained or did the fun died down. The triplex of kids, hanging around each other, and befit on being close friends. This night was the most fun the little Princess had as she watches Diluc tease Kaeya again. However, the night holds infinite uncertainty.

An instant gasp and the shatter of a wine glass caused a halt in the ballroom. The music ceased as a gust of wind expelled the chandelier candles. The cloaked man sauntered his way past the frightened crowd, clapping his hand in slow motion. He let out a deep laugh, approaching the family that strips away his power. "How dare you return to the palace!" The king spoke brashly, pushing his daughter behind. (Y/N) shook in fear, watching the mad man plastered a demented smile at her. "But I'm your confidant," he exclaimed. "Confidant? Ha! You are a traitor to Fontaine!" "Get out!"

"You think you can banish me? Pope Marquis Puissant!" he steps closer to him, hiding his delusion in his cloak. As (Y/n) was watching, she felt a slight tug pulling away from them. Diluc stood in front of her, furrowing his small brow. "By the holy power given by the Tsaritsa and Ursa, I'll banish you and your family with a curse!" The chamber gasp at his comment. "Mark my word I will not rest until I see the end of the Rousseau!" Bring out his power; he directed his attack toward the king. A shriek was let out from the queen as he shut his eye tightly, anticipating the attack.

"(Y/N)!"

The Grand-mère cried, flinging herself out of her throne. All eyes direct their attention towards Diluc; he didn't feel the girl's hand. Turning around, she was gone. "What did you do to my daughter!" Her Father roared. Marquis laughed and grinned, not saying a word. "Guards, get him!"  he ordered to the once holy man. Laughing again, more mist gathered quickly in the ballroom; as the guard's closed onto him, fire circled his figure, preventing them from entering.  The blaze grew quicker; Crepus felt Kaeya stiffen in his arm, watching the delusion in Marquis's hand. The windows exploded in one motion, making the room more in a frenzy while the wind blew harsher.  Diluc, in rage, ran towards him. "Diluc, no!" Crepus warned, however, as he passed the flames and mist, he was gone.

The only ashes and embers replace his spot. Marquis was far gone, along with the Princess. "Quickly close all the borders! I don't want anyone leaving Fontaine!" The distraught Father ordered. " I want every house to be searched, every church, alleyway and caves checked!" "Whatever you do, find the Princess and Marquis!". Tears of despair escape the Mother and Grandmother crying for the kidnapped daughter.  Diluc silently stood there watching the embers die down.

The once festive night took a turn into a nightmare.

[theluckyyyoneee]

antipode | pcy

pairing: park chanyeol x reader

contents: high school!au, soccerplayer!chanyeol, serious!yn, mild cursing, reader becoming very confused and thinks they’re going crazy!seriously reader has minor panic attack:(

word count: 10,2k

summary: AlternateUniverseAU! When the guy you hate—and who you’re certain hates you—becomes your boyfriend after you swore he kicked a soccer ball at your head.

part 01  |  part 02  |  part 03:finale

You can’t be friends with everybody.

Damned if that wasn’t the truest statement you’d ever heard.

Trying to appear friendly to everyone you met without changing your personality to fit theirs or their expectations they held for you a few moments after first meeting you, you now used that saying as a very important and undeniable proverb to live by at a relatively young age.

You guessed it was a good thing that you weren’t one of those people who needed to be the center of attention or someone who enjoyed being surrounded by people who all pretended to be your friends to your face while insulting you behind your back. So that was why you preferred to keep company in the form of three close friends who were like your own family. Ugh, high school drama.

You couldn’t wait to graduate and spend at least one month relaxing before starting to register and pack up for college, already grimacing at how busy you would be this summer, but at least at college they would treat you more like the adult you were, or at least the adult you felt like, rather than babying you in high school.

“Class don’t forget, I already gave you an extension on yesterdays homework, so I fully expect it on my desk tomorrow afternoon before class starts. Okay?”

Groans erupted from the whole class, save you and a few other students who had actually completed the assignment when it was first issued. 

“Ms. Lee, can we just turn it in on Friday please? I haven’t had time to finish it with the soccer practices that I have everyday, I’m sure you know that the game is coming up.” You didn’t even have to look to your right to know it was Chanyeol who was speaking, his smooth and loud words piercing through the noise and the whole classroom silenced at the sound of his voice. 

You also didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was giving Ms. Lee his signature kicked puppy expression; wide brown eyes and his lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. Keeping your constant gaze on your teacher instead, you watched somewhat amusedly at the flush that crept on her cheeks you could see from your seat, the way her hands balled into fists at her side then gripped the material of her slacks as she agreed with a shaky tone, deciding that Friday was a better day after all.

As soon as the teacher had turned her back to the students, no doubt fantasizing a scenario that would land her in jail if she acted upon it, given the teacher student relationship, even though you were certain he was eighteen. Chanyeol and a few of his jockhead buddies next to him exchanged high fives, the bell signaling the end of the school day motivating everyone to spring up from their seats and out the door.

“Ugh,” you muttered under your breath, taking a stand as well and stole another glance in his direction, scoffing and shaking your head slightly at his eyes already on your figure, his head tilted to the side as he wiggled his fingers in your direction, his friends watching from the sidelines, giggling at his actions, slapping him jokingly on the arm as they watched you exit out the door.

Idiots, didn’t they have minds of their own? You didn’t think so, since they chose to spend their time with that pompous and self-entitled jerk. No, maybe they were just as bad as he was, but there wasn’t a way for you to know since they had never attempted to mess with you the way Chanyeol adored.

“Wow, so approachable Y/n, no wonder you only have, like, three friends. You know, you should really appreciate me more for even talking to you.” Junmyeon chides, slinging his arm over your shoulder as he appears suddenly at your side in the busy hallway, keeping close to you to avoid getting in anyone’s way.

A genuine smile crept on your lips and you softly jabbed him in the stomach with your elbow, ignoring how solid his midsection seemed underneath his shirt. A huff of air escaped him and he clutched his stomach dramatically, wringing his hold on your shoulders even tighter and you gasped, grimacing as he pushed your face into his chest as he ruffled your hair with his other hand.

“Yeah right, you with your dad jokes, you would just drive them away.” You retorted, pushing him off you as the two of you neared your locker, shaking your head and fixing your nest of a hairstyle thanks to that nerd. Putting in the right combination on your lock, you smirked as you glanced at him leaning against the lockers next to yours and continued, “I swear, sometimes it’s like you’re a middle aged man inside a teenagers body.”

He opened his mouth in indignation, rolling his eyes and scoffed, looking into the distance as a scowl graced his handsome features. “Not my fault that I have a sense of humor too sophisticated for a peasant’s taste like yours.”

Giving him the middle finger with one hand, you shoved your locker shut with the other and readjusted your backpack and walked alongside Junmyeon in the much emptier hallways towards the school’s exit. Running into Yerim and Kyungsoo along the way, the four of you stopped by the doors leading downstairs, conversing a bit before they had to make their way down to the photography room—both of them involved with taking photos for the yearbook.

You couldn’t help but smile a bit at the way she leaned back into his chest as you talked, his arms casually hanging around her shoulders.

They were so cute.

After awhile their allotted time for conversation was up and they waved goodbye and you continued on your way home. You two resided in the same neighborhood about an eight minute walk away from school, so it was routine to walk home together almost everyday when he didn’t have tutoring on Tuesday and Thursdays.

“Leaving for the day? Must be nice.” A low voice echoed out to you and startled the two of you apart, attempting to calm the pounding of your heart you looked behind to where the loud sound had came from and frowned to see Chanyeol bounding about a yard behind you and Junmyeon, a black gym bag draped casually from his broad shoulders. 

Long gone were his baggy tee and jeans and his famous soccer uniform adorned his frame now, looking ridiculously even more tall now than he did before. He eyed the two of you with a deep stare, his lips forming a line as you eyed him with a similar hard gaze and looped your arm in Junmyeon’s. 

“Uh, y-yeah, we are. Heading to practice?” Junmyeon replied hesitantly beside you and you eyed him weirdly, wondering why he was acting so buddy buddy with him. While you on the other hand, kept your grip on his arm tight and continued to walk without glancing back.

“Yeah. The teacher wanted to talk to me after class and I still had to change before heading over to the field.”

You rolled your eyes, remembering the blush that was distinctly on Ms. Lee’s cheeks and wondered how that conversation went. Chanyeol probably got his way like he always did.

Junmyeon made a sound of acknowledgement, not really knowing what to say in return to Chanyeol’s story, and he opened his mouth after glancing at you, most likely going to utter an awkward goodbye before Chanyeol cut in before he could with—

“Are you two dating? You guys are always together.”

His tone had a certain edge to it that he didn’t previously possess and you frowned at both his nosiness and his hostility. Why did he care? So he could find another reason to make fun of you?

You were suddenly being pushed away with a gentle hand on your arm as Junmyeon explained quickly, “No, no, we’re not dating. We’re just really close friends and have lived in the same neighborhood since middle school.”

You couldn’t have agreed more, but you were a bit put off by how quick he was to deny a relationship with you, were you really that bad, you pondered with a slight pout.

Chanyeol must’ve seen the expression on your face and pounced at the chance—

“Right, who’d want to go out with Y/n.” His words were said with a snicker, having caught up to the two of you in no time and stepping around you to flash you a smirk, glancing up and down at your figure before exiting the double doors.

“Yah!” You shouted at his back, already being able to tell he was laughing at the way his shoulders shook just before the doors shut behind him with a loud noise. You were fuming at his words, fuming at the way he wanted to make you less than average.

Placing your hands on your hips, you blew air out of your mouth and paced around in a small circle, trying to burn this sudden burst of hot energy you found yourself experiencing. You wished you would’ve landed a roundhouse kick right in the square of Chanyeol’s back, but let’s be honest, you would’ve most definitely missed and given yourself an embarrassing cramp.

“Why do you guys do that?” Junmyeon asked exasperatedly, eyeing the doors Chanyeol had exited out of in a quiet curiosity you were used to seeing on his face by the long years you’ve known him. 

Your mouth dropped open at his question and pointed at the closed doors. “He obviously started it! You saw, I didn’t even say anything to him and he still managed to insult me.”

“Was it an insult?”

“How was, ‘Right, who’d want to go out with Y/n, har har’, not an insult? Sure he didn’t outright say any demeaning words or phrases, but it was well implied and you know it.” You lowered your voice when repeating the phrase, trying to mimic the deep tone of Chanyeol’s voice with some difficulty.

He titled his head to the side a bit and pursed his lips, walking ahead of you and opening the door and you had to rush to not be left behind, the heat from the sun warming up your skin. “I don’t think so, but whatever you guys want to call it, it has to stop. Just date already.” 

“Excuse me?” You all but screeched, looking at him with an expression of disbelief.

He shrugged and held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Hey, don’t look at me. You were the one who told me you that he was cute when you first met him.”

“That was before he opened his mouth and I found out what a jerk he is,” you mumbled, heat creeping up on your cheeks as you remembered, yes, technically once upon a time you did find Chanyeol somewhat charming and handsome.

You usually stayed away from the athletes, they created unnecessary attention and special treatment wherever they went. It wasn’t as if you had an interest in things such as football, soccer, diving, track, etc., so you didn’t understand the obsession with these athletes that drove everyone crazy at the mere sight of them.

The first time you had laid eyes on Chanyeol, he hadn’t been dressed in his uniform, looking comfortable as ever in a plain t-shirt and jeans combination, and you could admit it to yourself now, that yes, your heart did pick up its pace a bit at the sight of him, your face heating up as you made yourself look away, being stuck in a daze of just gazing at him for sometime.

It wasn’t as if you automatically had the naive assumption that everyone on earth was an angel or anything of that nature, but you thought that he was generally a good person, seeing as no one seemed to hold any grudges or contempt towards him, always greeted and greeting everyone with a wide smile and the joyous everyone reacted to his presence. 

You were fascinated by him.

Did your fascination cross some line into a crush like thing? You weren’t sure. It wasn’t as if you wanted to talk to him and enter his busy world, you were completely fine watching him from afar, your faith in humanity returning the tiniest bit by finding a good young person in this Sodom and Gomorrah that you called high school.

Until you had a personal interaction with him.

It was completely random timing, it was an ordinary day, you were already seated in your chair near the back where Ms. Lee had assigned you at the beginning of the semester. You had your book you were currently engrossed with open on your otherwise empty desk, but you had looked up when you heard someone enter. 

Chanyeol walked in with his backpack, that looked practically empty to you, comfortably slung over his shoulder and he sauntered to his seat and you froze as the two of you made eye contact for the first time. 

You expected for his eyes to skim right past you, but they didn’t. He kept your stare with his wide brown eyes for a few moments longer before he let his backpack fall to the ground by his seat and slowly sank himself in it, you not noticing his teammates and desk buddies watching the whole exchange, their grins hidden behind their hands that covered their mouths. 

You blinked and distractedly returned to your book, not remembering what part you had been on before or the context to make sense of this sentence when a pair of large feet encased in some no doubt expensive sneakers came into your view of vision and you whipped your head up to stare blankly at Chanyeol standing about a foot away from your desk, gazing down at you with a smile.

Your lips began to turn up in response to his, until of course he opened his mouth—

“Don’t you have any friends?” He asked you, his voice the usual amount of volume as it usually was but it felt like he had shouted it, the classroom silencing at his words and chuckles began echoing from your classmates all around you two. 

Your skin began to flush with the embarrassment at being laughed at, at being made fun of so openly, an unpleasant feeling settling in your stomach as you eyed the confident smirk that rested on his lips as he stared back at you expectantly. 

“Of course I do.” Was all you could think to reply, your tone slightly questioning, wondering what he meant to accomplish by asking you that question. 

“Then why are you always alone?

Your features twisted into a glare at his next question. What is wrong with him? Why had he chose this particular moment to ask you a somewhat private inquisition in front of the whole class rather than approach you when there were less students present and at a much less close proximity. 

Was what his goal? To embarrass you? If so, it was working, as much as you willed it not to.

It was a reaction you couldn’t seem to help. You were human after all, as much as you were confident in yourself, you doubted anyone enjoyed being laughed at unless they were actually trying to be funny intentionally.

Your lips formed to put your thoughts into words when the bell rang, your mouth still open as you watched him leave to return to his seat in the front of the classroom. 

You could feel the stares of the students around you and you used your hair as a shield for the rest of the time. Your eyes fixed on the clock routinely, you began quietly packing up your books and pencils and was the first one out of your seat and out the door by the time the bell rang—not noticing the way he stared at you as you sped out the room at lightning speed.

After that, it was as if he had forgotten your existence, how it had been until that one particular encounter. You had given it a discomfiting amount of thought, the only explanation to his questions was that he was in fact trying to embarrass you, the more you thought it, the more his seemingly innocent smile seemed like a sinister smirk.

It was fine for awhile, he left you alone like he’d always had, but you no longer watched him from afar, you strayed as far as possible from him and his buddies who seemed to always be in a sudden giddy mood whenever they spotted you from across the hall or cafeteria. You could feel his eyes on you, but you tried to distract yourself with engaging into a conversation with Kyungsoo as to why he should bake you a cake this weekend.

Then he somehow decided you existed again and began to make passing remarks to you in the halls.

“Nice hair, sleeping beauty!”

You had woken up late thanks to sleeping right through your alarm and had gotten ready in about eight minutes, your hair drying in an awkward way from the way you tossed in your sleep the night before and had thrown it in a ponytail that barely tamed your natural waves that you were trying your best not to feel so self conscious about.

His comment made your cheeks flame as you registered the snickers that sounded all around you at his words. You made no facial expression whatsoever as you passed each other, determined to maintain your nonchalant and confident facade that crumbled pitifully as you were sure he was out of sight.

“What’s up, nerd?”

Chanyeol appeared beside you, a good foot taller than you, but you managed to hear his words just fine in the midst of a million conversations that were happening all around you. He walked ahead of you, but not before he nudged you with his shoulder and knocked the books you held in your arms down tumbling to the floor, earning attentive stares as they stared you bent over, picking up the strewn books off the floor and back into your arms.

He didn’t even look back, that asshole. Seriously, what was his problem?

Ever since then, you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with Park Chanyeol. Not like your over-exaggerated indifference to his glances and stares, seemingly playful waves and loud greetings of your name in a sugary tone that made people stop and look at you deterred him any. 

If anything, your lack of reactions only seemed to encourage him, his voice echoed louder in the halls than before. People were starting to associate you with him, amused smirks creeping on their faces and watchful eyes with just the sight of you wandering down the halls. 

You hated the way the rest of the whole student body ate from the palm of his hand, laughing and smirking along to his words.

But all you had to do was continue to ignore him, no way was there a chance in hell that you would ever willingly approach him first.

Or so you thought.

“You’re tutoring Chanyeol?”

“I was supposed to, but I can’t. My grandparents flew in and they can only stay for tonight,” he started to explain, looking the least bit frustrated at the surprise visit but mostly excited. “My mom wants me home early to spend time with them before they continue on their journey of seeing the world or something like that, I don’t know.” He sighed, shaking his head. His expression suddenly changed and he was grinning at you broadly and gave you the notebook that was previously in his grip. “Can you just give him this notebook of notes I wrote out for him, he told me that he has last minute practice anyway so it was fine, I wrote everything very clearly and dumbed it down enough for him to understand it.”

“I doubt that, all he knows how to do is how to kick around a ball and think the world revolves around him,” you couldn’t help but mutter, an impressed expression no doubt taking place on your face as you skimmed the contents of the notebook, Junmyeon was very detailed and if Chanyeol still had no idea after studying this guide, he was an even bigger idiot than you thought.

“Y/n, please?” Junmyeon sighed in front of you, even going as far as to clutch your shoulders in his hands as he looked down at you with a pleading expression. “I know you two don’t get along, but just get his attention for one second, point to the notebook and leave it on the bleachers and leave. I would go myself, but I’m already late going home and the field is all over on the other side of the school. Please, I’m counting on you! Thank you! If I’m any later, they said they would send Minseok out to come get me! I’ll text you later!”

He left you with your mouth hanging open watching him sprint down the street and out of your sight in less than ten seconds, almost falling face first after rounding a sharp corner. The sight of him almost biffing it made you crack a grin, wondering just how secretly scary his slightly older brother was to make him run home like that.

Their parents sure made handsome boys, shame though, you knew just how much Mrs. Kim had always wanted a daughter and got stuck with two boys instead.

A grimace came on your features as you sluggishly began your journey to the field, a sigh escaping you. You thanked your luck that it wasn’t a sweltering day or else you would’ve literally turned around and forgotten about the whole thing, but since Junmyeon had seemed really anxious and pleading, you would do him this favor.

He totally owed you a meal for this.

The walk actually wasn’t too bad and passed far quicker than you anticipated, must have been all those years practicing your fast walk to perfection,  and you could hear the whistle and yelling from a distance, only becoming more clear and noisy the closer you came to the field, the rich green turf momentarily blinding you if you looked directly at it. 

Tall, lean forms in matching white jerseys and shorts ran along the field, each with their own ball, taking turns taking free shots at the goal net at the other end of the field.

Good, at least you caught him early on in the practice as to not possibly getting yelled at by the head soccer coach that had always intimidated you by his yells you could hear miles away.

Clutching the notebook tighter in your grip, you slowly made your way around the fence, coming closer to the bleachers that held many gym bags along with half filled water bottles and towels laid untidily on the seat, making you grimace at the disorder of it all.

Your hesitant arrival becoming noticed rather quickly, you watched with a feeling of impending doom as the whole team shouted Chanyeol’s name, his head shooting up from his focus on the soccer ball in front of him to you, his face changing from a stoic concentration, to shock, then to a smirk.

You eyed the whole ordeal strangely. Maybe Junmyeon had told him that you were coming to drop off the notebook in his stead and to look out for you when you arrived? You ran through your previous conversation with the man in question, but nothing came up of him telling you that Chanyeol was expecting you other than gaining his attention.

Which you did, in a surprisingly short amount of time and effort. His teammates all had big grins on their faces and were playfully shoving him around and your brows furrowed in confusion at the reaction your presence created.

Just show him the notebook and get out, Y/n, you told yourself, gritting your teeth and held up the notebook in your right hand—Chanyeol still staring intently at you, fiddling with the ball at his feet—and dropped it on the bleachers, not bothering to find his personal bag and felt relieved that you managed to complete Junmyeon’s plea with much less difficulty than you were anticipating. 

“Watch out!” He suddenly exclaimed with a yell as you caught the tail-end of his kick, his right leg swinging out in front of him with the force of it.

Eyes widening in alarm, your heart beating at an alarming rate as you realized the ball was heading straight towards you, then everything went black with a thump.

You blinked and all of a sudden you found yourself laying in an uncomfortable bed located in the nurses office. A cold and foreign object being placed gently on your temple that throbbed and hurt like a bitch made you flinch back in surprise and pain, a hiss escaping your parted lips.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” a breathy and apologetic voice sounded from beside you and once again you startled, your heart rate going from a normal range to tap dancing within the confines of your rib cage. You swung your head to the left, only to freeze as you locked gazes with Park Chanyeol, the sight of him and the onslaught of increased pain leaving you to groan, your left hand instinctively coming up to poke and prod at the area causing you so much discomfort.

“Would you stop moving, I’m trying to keep this ice pack on your head.” He spoke again, this time much less breathy and more exasperated, yet still weirdly apologetic, his own hand catching your wrist and gently tugging it back down before you could make contact. He made no move to extract his hand from yours and you eventually pulled away, choosing not to focus on how warm and secure his hand had felt holding yours.

Memories came rushing back to you the longer you stared quizzically at him, a gasp leaving your mouth as the suddenly crystal clear vision of that damned soccer ball zooming straight in your direction, a smirking Park Chanyeol being the one to kick it at you, after all. 

“You hit me with the soccer ball!” Yelling only upset your injury more but you didn’t care. You knew he didn’t like you, but kicking a soccer ball at full speed from the other end of a giant field at you crossed the line. 

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you, it was an accident, I must’ve lost my aim or something.” He rushed out the excuse, his words gaining volume as his expression changed back into what looked like guilt, furrowed brows and he gnawed at his bottom lip as he winced in conjunction as he readjusted the ice pack on your head.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, letting Chanyeol know that you didn’t believe his sorry story for a second. “Yeah, right.”

“What?”

“You totally meant to hit me, there’s no way your aim could’ve missed.” It wasn’t like you were on the actual field standing in front of the net or anything, you had been standing in front of the bleachers. 

His mouth flew open and a noise of assault exited his mouth, eyebrows shooting clear up to his hairline at your use of his own words against him, his tone becoming more desperate with each word he spoke, eyes fixed earnestly on yours. “It did! Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you hate me, that’s why! You’ve probably had this planned for a week, but it backfired because you know I know, and that’s why you’re taking care of me—give me this.” You snatched the ice pack away from him, the movement causing your head to hurt even worse and you reapplied the ice pack to your temple with a groan and a death glare.

Chanyeol was looking at you like you had just eaten the last slice of pizza after taunting him for ten straight minutes, the hurt and betrayal clear in his expression, his dark eyes wide and mouth turned down into an obvious frown as his gaze roamed over you repeatedly.

“Why would you say that? Are you okay? Why on earth would I hate you?” You hated the way those words sounded coming from him. How would he expect you to understand something like that?

“How the hell should I know? You tell me.”

“But I don’t hate you! I love you!” He seemed especially and genuinely earnest now, even more than a few moments ago, going to grab your hand in his once again, but you retreated before he could, a look of hurt crossing his features, and then you registered his sentence.

Well, you weren’t expecting him to ever utter those words in response to yours. “...What?”

“Of course I love you, you’re my girlfriend.”

“WHAT?”

The two of you stared at each other unblinking for a few moments, before you broke it with a tired sigh and shook your head the tiniest bit to as not to upset your headache and injury even more. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it’s not working, so you can stop. I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

“Stop what?” He seemed confused at your words, large frame scooting closer to yours on the bed, to which you scooted back with a questioning gaze.

You stared at him in all seriousness then and answered with a sneer, “As if we would ever date.”

You had to give him credit, he was keeping his character for longer than you thought he would, and his face still held that expression of bewilderment and concern as he continued to study your face with his wide eyes, his mouth turned down at the sides in a frown.

“Y/n, this isn’t funny, okay? I already feel really bad about hurting you, I get it. You don’t need to pretend to not know who I am.” Gone was his faux concern and in came his signature eye roll that you’ve seen many times, relaxing from his alert position to lean back in his chair.

You squinted your eyes and continued to look at him weirdly, wondering if he was the one who got hit in the head and not you, what with his sudden strange behavior and all. But after a few more moments, you realized you really didn’t care, and just wanted to go home and maybe set up a doctor’s appointment to get your bruise looked at by a professional. It didn’t hurt as much as it did at first, but your head still throbbed from the collision.

“I know who you are, obviously, but we’re not dating—you know what, I don’t really care, I’m going home now, thanks for nothing... except for possibly giving me a concussion.” You huffed as you slid off the bed slowly, shrugging off Chanyeol’s helpful irksome hands as he tried to help steady you, scowling in irritation at how annoying and clingy he was being, deliberating on taking the ice pack home with you but deciding against it and placed it in the sink with a small shrug. Your house wasn’t far from here, surely you would survive the walk. Spotting your bag strewn on the floor by the entrance, you bent down to pick it up, but was beaten to it Chanyeol. He hurried to open the door for you with watchful eyes.

You were beyond annoyed but didn’t have the energy to deal with wrestling it from his grasp and opted to exit through the door, knowing by now he was going to follow.

“Are you being serious? Let me take you to the hospital, I really think you should get your head looked at.” He followed behind you like a lost puppy as predicted, and you wanted to scream. 

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?!

You were about to yell your thoughts at him when two identical uniform clad goofs you recognized as his two buddies who he was almost never seen not by his side came bounding to the two of you, concerned expressions adorning their surprisingly—though not so surprising—handsome faces. 

Both of their gazes were intense, but the one closest to your right was even more so, the furrow of his eyebrows made your heart rate increase, you would not want this man to be upset with you. But you were the victim here!

You recognized their faces, but had never gone through the trouble to remember their names. Your eyes narrowed at the unexpected close proximity as they hounded you with questions.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Are you dizzy?”

“Dude, I can’t believe you actually hit her with the ball!”

At the last comment, you turned your attention back to the guilty giant on trial, giving him the meanest and hardest glare you could muster up before continuing on your way home. 

“What’s going on? Did you guys fight?” 

“Jongin, she’s sporting a head injury from being hit in the head by a flying soccer ball, genius. Of course she’s upset.”

Ah, so the less intimidating one was Jongin—wait, why did you care?

“But it’s not like you did it on purpose, have you apologized yet?”

“Of course I have! Like a hundred times, I don’t know why she’s suddenly saying that we’re not dating,” Chanyeol piped up behind you, still trailing behind you, albeit at a safe distance. You could imagine his pout in your mind without having to look back at him, convinced his friends were in on this prank he was trying his best to pull off.

Hell, they were probably silently giggling behind your back at this very moment. Mouthing their rehearsed script as to not mess anything up.

You couldn’t trust them, you needed to call Junmyeon. He would assure you this was just a stupid and juvenile attempt to further aggravate you, which reminded you to take your bag back from Chanyeol.

“That’s an indirect way of saying, ‘Let’s break up.’“ Those words were spoken with a laugh.

“Sehun!” The voice you now recognized as Jongin’s whisper-yelled from behind you as you halted in your stride and heaved a sigh. 

Enough.

“Y/n, are you really breaking up with me? I already told you it was an accident and that I’m really sorry. That’s not a reason to break up, right?” His eyes were wide when you turned around, lips parted looking very concerned and stared at you as you stepped closer, looking the exact definition of a kicked puppy that only served as more irritation for you.

“We’re not breaking up,” you huff out exasperatedly, stopping in your stride long enough to take your bag back from Chanyeol’s loose grasp, his shoulders drooping with what seemed like relief judging by the sigh that escaped him and the smile he gazed at you with. That quickly faded with your continuation of, “because we never went out in the first place. I told you, I’m not falling for this.”

Turning back around you felt around in the first pocket for your phone after realizing it wasn’t in your pocket, while they continued to discuss among themselves in quiet voices as you grasped the familiar object, not knowing how it got there but didn’t really mind as long as you held it in your hands. 

“Do you think she should go see a doctor?”

“Yeah, what if it’s amnesia? That has to be why she can’t remember your guys’ relationship!”

“I’m standing right here, and I’m lea—” Your next word cuts off as you press the home button, as your eyes land on the picture of your wallpaper, brows furrowing and heart beginning to thunder in your chest as you tried to make sense of this.

Replacing your wallpaper of one of your favorite artist’s albums was a photo of Chanyeol. He was obviously posing for a picture, eyes closed and a smile on his face, little stickers and emojis of hearts decorating the space around him, your facial features scrunching up into a grimace the longer you eyed the cursed image.

What the hell?

Were you really—the thought made you gag internally—dating Park Chanyeol?

The thought made you laugh out loud at the absurdity of it, causing the guys to look at you with wide eyes. 

Of course you weren’t dating Chanyeol, you would’ve remembered making such a stupid decision. He must’ve been the one to sneak your phone in your backpack after finding a way to change your wallpaper. 

To think you nearly fell for this stupidity.

You studied the photo and sighed, wondering if he was really narcissistic enough to take a picture of himself like this and add hearts on it himself.

Who were you kidding, of course he was.

He was willing to go this far for a stupid prank that wasn’t even working?

Feeling much lighter, you showed them your wallpaper with an unimpressed expression on your face. “Ha ha, very funny. How did you change my wallpaper you creep?”

“Creep?” Sehun couldn’t help but let out a giggle at your words, earning a glare and a slap to the arm from the boys by his side and an eye roll from you, a small huff of pain escaping you as the pain in your head from that move, and moved to enter your passcode and frowned as it told you that you had entered it incorrectly.

Typing the numbers in slowly and carefully, you sighed when it told you it was still incorrect, making Chanyeol freeze in his stride towards you as you shot him a glare, immediately jumping to the conclusion he changed it along with your wallpaper. 

“And you changed my password, too? Unlock it.” You held your phone out to him with a hard face, just wanting to go home and forget about this. 

“I didn’t do anything to your phone, Y/n.” His lips were turned down as he slowly took it from you, then smiled a bit as he gazed down at your screen—most likely at the picture of him. “I didn’t know this was your wallpaper, though. You’re mine, too.” He fished his out from his back pocket and held it out to you, that small grin still placed on his lips, and you frowned at his words, nonetheless taking his phone from his palm.

“Ugh, you damn lovebirds make me sick.” The one you now recognized as Sehun moaned, fake gagging as Jongin laughed along to his words.

Blinking at the picture of you, you couldn’t help the confusion and the bit of panic that hit you. It was a photo you had no recollection of, but you seemed ridiculously happy judging by the wide smile on your face, your face tilted to the side and braced against the palm of your hand, eyes shining brightly as you stared into the camera, bright neon pink blush effects placed on your cheeks with similar heart emojis surrounded your face.

Your breathing became a bit heavier, you continued to look at the picture, heart rate picking up in your chest. 

How did he have this picture? When did he take this? You didn’t remember yourself taking a picture like this, you’d never smiled so big like the one on the screen. 

This was obviously you, why did you have no memory of it? What was going on?

Placing your thumb on the screen of his phone so the screen wouldn’t go dark, you continued to stare lost at the picture, trying to decipher the background, your clothes, anything that could tell you when this was taken.

The bright lights behind you were hazy and unfocused, no major landmarks or buildings behind you to clue you into where the hell you were. 

But you had more pressing thoughts rather than where that picture was taken.

Was it possible the two of you were really dating? That this wasn’t all just a poorly executed endeavor to prank you? Did you really gain amnesia over being hit with the soccer ball and just didn’t remember? How else would him having a picture you didn’t remember being taken—when you could clearly see you willingly posed for it—be explained somewhat logically?

You needed to get out of here. 

“...Y/n? Shit, Y/n? Are you dizzy? You look really pale, let me take you to the hospital, I think you should really get checked out.”

Flinching and shying away from the hand he attempted to lay on your shoulder, you noted once again the flash of hurt that passed through his eyes at your actions, but it wasn’t as if you could help it. 

Your mind was racing with all these confusing thoughts, and his reaction to your reaction didn’t make anything easier for you, only adding onto it if anything, your expression worried as you tore your eyes from him to flit over the empty hallway, attempting to ignore the concerned gazed of Jongin and Sehun.

“No, I’m fine. I’d rather go by myself...” you trailed off, sluggishly handing him his phone back and exchanging it for yours, forgetting that he still hadn’t told you your passcode to unlock it, but you’d figure it out later. 

You just needed to get away from this before you lost your mind, though you felt that it was a bit too late for that, your headache coming back tenfold.

Chanyeol on the other hand, shook his head at your words, a determined expression taking hold on his face and moved with you towards the exit, along with his two lackeys from the sound of six feet following you. “No, I’m not letting you go alone, it’s not safe. You might have a head injury.”

“I have a head injury, thanks to you.” Your harsh tone was a striking contrast from his, your patience running thin from humoring this prank for so long, a weird pang of guilt hitting you as Chanyeol flinched slightly at your words, hearing the halting footsteps of the two behind you.

“Please, Y/n. I would feel better if you let me go with you.” His phrase was delivered with a desperation you just didn’t understand and that fact made you even more upset.

“I’m not going to the hospital with you, I don’t even know you or like you. I’ll just call Junmyeon when I go home and see if he can take me.” Your words were uttered in nothing less than a frustrated growl, causing the words Chanyeol was going to say to die in his throat, his pleading and anxious expression transformed into a much harsher one.

His eyebrows narrowed and his mouth formed a tight line as the two of you continued to stare at each other, neither one blinking as if willing the other one to give up first. Then a sigh escaped him, “Fine.” With that he marched ahead of you in angry steps, leaving you behind to stare at him, not wanting to examine the feeling in your chest as you watched him walk away at your words.

Sehun whizzed past your figure without a second thought, running after him. Yet for some reason Jongin hesitated by your side, noticing your slight wince and how you clutched your head, exhaling a steadying breath. “He’s just worried, you didn’t need to yell at him like that.”

That wasn’t yelling, you thought. But you didn’t voice your thoughts and said instead, “Regardless of what you guys tell me, I don’t recall ever being in any type of relationship with that jackass. I’ll be fine getting home by myself, I’m not a little kid.”

His expressions changed many times during your speech, and he seemed like he wanted to something but chose not to, opting with, “Just text us when you get home and what the doctor says, we’ll be worried about you.”

Your brows furrowed at his words and followed slowly behind him towards the exit, nodding a bit in thanks as he held the door open and looked back a few times as he stood in the same spot, like he was making sure you got home all right without being overly pushy like Chanyeol was.

His words confused you, since when were you two so close?

Your mother greeted you from the kitchen and had audibly gasped in horror when she saw the giant bruise forming on your temple, questions of what happened and are you okay all jumbled into an incoherent stream as he ushered you right back outside, stopping to let the backpack fall from your shoulders to the doorway before sitting you in the passenger seat as she called your father on speaker, telling him you were going to the hospital and that she would give him more details when she could.

Since head injuries and head traumas were taken very seriously, you were taken in to get some tests done that were more meager than they were annoying. You had wanted to get into the doctor’s office earlier, but now all you wanted to do was go to sleep and forget this whole confusing and tiring day happened, relieved once they told you they weren’t going to keep you awake, certain you didn’t have a concussion, but were puzzled at the fact you lost memories of only thing; or person, chalking it up to temporary amnesia.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, okay?” The handsome doctor Mr. Jung told you as he laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder—and for some reason, you were reminded of how you shot down Chanyeol when he tried the same thing, that same pang of guilt hitting you right in the chest. “You’re an intelligent young lady, I know this must be driving you insane, and it might feel as if you’re actually going insane.” The two of you share a small laugh and you nod, wondering if he could read minds as well.

“Just remember to rest and to not push yourself to remember too hard. Take part in hobbies you enjoy or take a nice walk outside. If you experience any pain, feel free to come back for another check up to make sure everything is doing fine. Okay? Okay, I’ll see you no sooner than two weeks I hope. Feel better!”

Did you really have amnesia? It would make sense to trust your doctors words, even your mother was surprise you didn’t ‘remember’ your relationship with Chanyeol, apparently the two of you had been dating for around six months.

You about spit out and choked on the water she had you sipping on after the two of you had gotten home a good almost three hours later, well into the night and your father was out at the store getting the prescribed painkillers your doctor had prescribed you. She even told you he had called her in a panic while you were getting your tests done, begging for an update, and she told him that you were fine but that it was maybe best if he stayed away for at least tonight. 

But your mind was stuck on the six months part.

Six months? Surely your mother wouldn’t lie to you, so then it must be true, no matter how much something inside you told you it wasn’t. You opened your mouth to ask her some questions when there was loud pounding on the front door before the person remembered they had a key and let themselves in. 

Junmyeon came barreling in, eyes locking with yours and immediately sprinted in your direction, hands coming to grasp your shoulders as he looked you over with wide eyes. “Are you okay? You remember me, right? There’s no way you’d forget about me... right?”

“Of course I remember you, you dummy. And I’m fine... mostly. Just here icing my bruise.” You took his hands off your shoulders and motioned towards the ice pack sitting on the kitchen counter.

“You’re not fine, you have amnesia.” Junmyeon told you and you rolled your eyes, but stiffened when he said, “Chanyeol called me earlier.”

Suddenly becoming very aware of your mothers presence, you tilted your head in the direction of your room, smiling tightly to her as she gazed encouragingly back at you.

“Chanyeol called me about an hour after school ended, saying he hit you in the head with a soccer ball and that you couldn’t remember him or something like that, I don’t know, he was freaking about it I couldn’t really understand him all that well on the phone, saying that you two weren’t speaking at the moment and asked how you were doing, I just updated him vaguely about five minutes ago thanks from the details I got from your mom. She already gave him an update at the hospital, but I guess he just wanted to be sure. He told me he’s called you like twenty times and you haven’t answered.” He tells you, eyeing you as you pat your back pocket at the remembrance of your phone in your back pocket, taking a seat at the edge of your bed as you followed his actions. 

“Which I guess makes sense since you don’t really remember him, but you could at least text the poor man back and tell him your doctors visit went fine and you’re home safe. You might think you’re strangers, but he really loves you.”

Your brows furrowed with his lecture, ignoring his last five words and played with your phone, sighing as you stared at the picture of Chanyeol as your wallpaper. “I don’t know the passcode, I think he changed it while I was knocked out.” You mumbled quietly into your chest as you refused to look at him.

His hand swipes it from your grasp and you watch as he types on your phone, not expecting him to be able to decipher whatever random code Chanyeol must have put to have your mouth hang wide open in shock as he hands it to you once again, your home screen in full view.

“What the hell? How did you know what it was?”

“He didn’t change it, you created this passcode. It’s his birthday.” He said simply.

“Chanyeol’s birthday?” You placed your phone back in his hands to re-enter the passcode so you could change it to something you would actually remember, opting to change your annoying wallpaper later.

“Yep.”

“I’m really dating him?” You had to clarify, even though you’ve been told you were by literally everyone, letting your phone drop onto the bed in your lap, questioning if you were really the type of person to put in your partners birthday as a passcode, please—you so hoped that wasn’t you.

“Yep.”

You groaned. “Why? Do you not remember how mean he was to me?”

“What?”

“Oh come on, those snarky comments he’d always say to me in the halls? That was not flirting, I don’t care what you say.”

“What are you talking about?” Junmyeon’s face was scrunched up in confusion at your words, and your face scrunched up at his words and were about to clarify, when he continued. “Y/n, I think you’re remembering things differently, or else you had a weird dream yesterday that’s got you confused after your accident, but Chanyeol has never said anything even remotely mean to you. He’s basically been in love with you since you two met earlier this year.”

“What?” Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Okay, let me fill you in a bit since you can’t remember for yourself how the two of you started dating.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he shuffled closer a bit, looking like the epitome of seriousness as he stared at you, then awkwardly avoided eye contact as he began to fill you in on your lost memories.

“Let me see,” he murmured with pursed lips as he thought about where to start, a slight furrow to his brow as he began, “Um, you two shared a few classes together last semester, I think—yeah, you did. Because I remember you rambling to me about this ‘cute guy’ that you shared classes with.”

You strangely did remember that, but you had thought it was only that one class, with Ms. Lee? But along with that memory, came the onslaught of his comments that would continue for the next months that angered as well as embarrassed you, so something was not adding up. 

“Wait—“ you held a hand up to pause him, squinting your eyes at him. “I know, we literally had this conversation earlier today.”

Junmyeon’s brows furrowed as he blinked at you, eyes narrowing as he studied you a bit more closely. “Y/n, we’ve barely talked at all today, and it certainly wasn’t about you and Chanyeol. I was busy tutoring, remember? Oh right—” he paused to giggle at his own joke, “the amnesia.”

You in turn did not find his mediocre attempt at a joke amusing and you noted internally that today was in fact Thursday, one of the two days of the week he tutored for some extra cash, his words seeming like they should make sense or strike a chord with your messed up memory, but you couldn’t shake this—weird—feeling. 

But Junmyeon continued on without seeing your turmoil. “Then maybe a few weeks after classes had begun, he approached me out of the blue and outright asked me if we were dating.” He started laughing at the admission and your eyes narrowed as you experienced a bit of deja vu—certain you had a conversation of this manor before. 

“And I told him there was no way in hell that would happen,” he paused to gauge your reaction and you scowled at him to which he sent you an over dramatic finger heart. “Sorry, you know I love you, but you’re not my type.”

“You’re not my type, either. Every time I look at you I still see naked Junmyeon from the seventh grade.” You retorted and shivered in response to the image you conjured up with your spoken words and giggled when he jumped back.

“Yah! You should’ve known to knock by then, especially if I told you I was getting ready to shower.”

“Who doesn’t lock the door when they’re about to shower?” You smiled as you spied the barest hint of pink gracing his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Whatever. We’re not getting into this right now.” He glared at you, seemingly blaming you for getting off track and you shrugged and he cleared his throat and continued. “Where was I? Oh yeah, and he seemed really relieved and said thanks and left. Then you told me that you gave him your number a few days later and the rest is history.” 

You blinked at his triumphant expression, wondering why he was acting like he did this big thing, when all he really filled you in on was something you could’ve gotten from almost anybody. “You told me nothing.” Rolling your eyes, you shook your head at him and eyed the phone in your lap silently.

He shrugged from his spot across from you. “You guys like each other—no, I’m pretty sure you guys are crazy in love with each other. I don’t really know much about anything else about your relationship details, other than you guys deserve to go jail from the amount of cutesy shit you pull out in public.”

It was unsettling to have him talk about you about events that you didn’t remember and decided to distract yourself with the phone that seemed so foreign and held it in your hands.

Your eyes grew wide at the number of calls and texts you received, your lock screen keeping your messages and caller ID’s hidden and you typed in your new passcode, studying the picture on your home screen you were registering for the first time, unlike the first time when you were so fixated on changing your passcode.

Again, it was Chanyeol, but it also had you in it. The two of you looked like to be in front of a building that you didn’t recognize, wearing casual street style clothing and had your arms around each other, cheesy wide smiles on your faces as you looked at the camera.

Seeing a picture with you in it, yet having no recollection made your skin crawl a bit and wondered if you could find anymore.

You grow silent as you somehow find yourself clicking on your gallery, scrolling through what seemed like hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of you and Chanyeol. Varying locations and all different types of photos greeted your vision; ones where you two smiled at each other, faux seriousness, ones where the two of you gave each other piggyback rides, ones at the movies, the arcade, the fair, wrapped up in each others embrace, there was even one where you had your arms around him after what seemed like a pretty intense soccer match, his hair matted to his forehead with most probably was sweat.

It was definitely you in the pictures you were staring at, but it seemed like a completely different person. This person on the screen looked so happy, so content, so carefree. That wasn’t you. Your gaze shifted to Chanyeol on the screen, always by your side, with his arms wrapped securely around you. Were you the one that put that wide smile on his face? So many memories shown, but you couldn’t account for any of them.

“Look don’t worry about it too much, okay? It sucks that you got hit in the head with a soccer ball and that you got amnesia from it,” he starts to chuckle in between words and tries to calm himself once he sees just how not impressed you are with his amusement. Clearing his throat, he tries again, “But you were really happy with Chanyeol, you were always telling me that he was the love of your life and that you were going to marry him one day, it was really disgusting.” A small smile came onto his lips at his words, seemingly reminiscing in the past.

“And you don’t have to jump back in if you don’t want, okay? Just... Just text him, at least. Tell him that you’re okay, he’s really worried and I had to convince him at least a dozen times to not stalk your house. I know that hearing you’re okay from you will really help calm him.”

Remembering all the missed calls and messages you had waiting for you, your eyes widened at the majority being from Chanyeol, some from Yerim and Kyungsoo, and weirdly, Sehun and Jongin.

Eyes furrowing at the name you had Chanyeol saved under, you began reading through his numerous texts.

Chan❤️

[3:40 PM] i’m so sorry y/n i shouldn’t have left you to go home all by yourself, even if jongin did it on my behalf. I just felt so guilty and upset at the way you were reacting to me

[3:43 PM] saying that we weren’t dating and that you didn’t like me, and refusing my help like i was a stranger

[3:46 PM] and you looked so scared and confused, i’m so sorry again, it really was an accident i would never hurt you on purpose, you know that, right?

[3:47 PM] I love you so much, please be okay

[3:55 PM] Just please answer your phone or answer my texts so i know you’re okay

[4:05 PM] I called Junmyeon and he said he didn’t know anything about you going to the hospital???

[4:00 PM] Please tell me someone took you

[4:00 PM] Your mom filled me in a bit, saying it’d be best if I stayed away so I wouldn’t stress you out more.

[4:01 PM] Which is smart.

[4:02 PM] The last thing I want is to stress you out even more

[4:03 PM] Which means I should probably stop sending all these messages.

[4:05 PM] Remember to get lots of rest and stay hydrated and to get plenty of protein and nutrients, okay?

[5:30 PM] If you could, please just let me know that you’re doing okay. Please.

Your lips quirk up a bit at the absurdity of everything and nodded to appease your friend, thinking that it might be the least you could do. 

Chanyeol did seem genuinely concerned, after all. 

Seeing you nod seemed to please him and he patted your shoulder twice before standing up, telling you that he’d better go home and tell his parents and Jooyeon that you were fine.

“Jooyeon?”

“My younger sister?”

“Oh, of course.” You shook your head and he laughed at your silly question and told you to get some rest and he’d text you tomorrow, you had the Friday off as orders from the doctor so you had a long weekend to look forward to.

But you couldn’t help but frown as he closed the door softly behind him, hearing him say goodbye to your mother before he left your house.

You could’ve sworn he had an older brother, not a younger sister.

tag list: @rashidamesrur @totallynerdstuff @organic-hemp @etaerealboy @yasmini24 @imlonelysometimeshappy @rpavlxk​ 

this was so much fun to write, i didn’t expect this story to be as long as its turning out but im happy w it nonetheless! didn’t want this to be a monster lol so i am splitting it into 3 parts!!!and i hope you all like it! as always i love feedback so pls show this some love <33 if you’d like to be added to the taglist just say so down in the comments or shoot me a dm!

[inkandpen22]

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (8/?)

Pairing: Spike x reader

Warnings: smut, swearing, arguing (mild)

Word Count: 2.4k

Part Summary: Y/N and Spike discover what happens when they kiss. Now, they start to wonder what may happen if they push the boundaries.

Masterlist

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Spike checks on me in a panic.

“Never better!” I jump up and down as I pace about the crypt.

Spike holds out an arm to me, “Y/N, maybe you should sit-”

I squeal, the world feels so new! “I could climb a skyscraper or better yet, Mount Everest!” I clasp my hands together.

“That’s great, but-”

“I want to go to Europe!" I determine. "I’ve been, you wanna go? Let’s go!" I jump up and down. " You’re English, you’re old, you’ll know your way around! Natives won’t fuck with me if you’re around! All you have to do is go ‘roar,’ show your fangs a little, and-” I curl my fingers to mimic claws.

“Y/N!” Spike shouts. I stop immediately, a pout appears on my lips. He sighs, guilt etching his face. “Sorry, I-”

“No, you’re right," I nod calmly. "I don’t know what came over me there." A nervous laugh escapes me as I comb my fingers through my hair.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks again, not convinced considering my frantic state.

“Yeah, kinda lightheaded," I admit. "But that’s probably from the sudden energy boost. It’s like having one too many cups of coffee.”

“Do you want me to drive you and Dawn home?” He offers, placing a hand on my shoulder.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head, “oh shit, Dawn! I’ve gotta go!”

“Wait,” spike grabs my forearm and spins me back around into his chest. He presses lips to mine and the glorious, all-encompassing feeling pours back into my body. Before I have the chance to fully enjoy it, Spike breaks away. “I’ll come by later.”

I nod, still kind of dazed and confused by the suddenness and intensity of the kiss. “Okay.”

Spike snickers lightly, letting me go. I exit the crypt and the chill of the night’s breeze courses over my skin. Maybe I shouldn’t drive? I’m still a little loopy. No, I’m fine, we’re fine! Plus, the sooner I get Dawnie home, the sooner Buffy will be done yelling. The sooner Buffy is done yelling, the sooner I can escape to my room, and the sooner Spike can come over. Yeah, I’m better than fine.

_______________________________________________

After all the dramatics, the Scoobies and Giles come over to discuss recent events with Glory. Oh yeah, she’s back, great right? I sit around the dining room table with them absentmindedly, struggling to conjure up an excuse to leave and head upstairs. It’s not as though any of them will let me fight Glory again because I’m ‘too weak to take her on.’ I check my watch and it’s well into the night. Spike could be here any minute, he could be upstairs waiting for me, this sucks.

Giles rambles on about his and Anya’s discoveries, “she’s far more powerful than we originally imagined. She-”

A thud from the ceiling interrupts the Watcher and makes everyone peer up.

“Okay, what the heck was that?” Xander questions sharply.

“Maybe it’s Glory and her minions!” Willow gasps, causing panic.

Starring at my lap absentmindedly, my eyes go wide with realization. Nope, it’s not Glory or her ugly trolls. More likely than not, it’s Spike landing in my room from the window. I accidentally leap up from my chair more noticeably than intended. Everyone’s attention turns to me and I laugh nervously under their intense stares.

“I left my crystals charging in my room and I must’ve lost focus. You know how loud they can be when they fall,” I stumble out an explanation as I cross the room to the foyer. “I’ll be right back!”

Sprinting up the stairs, I ignore their faint exchanges of curiosity. So what if they thought that whole thing was strange? When is anything in our lives normal? Xander is dating an ex-vengeance for Lord’s sake!

I swing open the door to my dark bedroom, nothing but the moonlight lingering in from the windows illuminate the space. I enter cautiously, seeing no sign of Spike. I start to question whether there was really a thud, but everyone heard it too. I couldn’t have imagined it.

The door behind me swings shut. Before I have the chance to look, arms wrap around my waist and I’m yanked back into someone’s chest. I gasp, panicking that its Glory or one of her minions.

“Hello, Love,” Spike whispers in my ear.

I relax, my heart pounding in my chest. Then, I swat his leather-covered arms. “You’re such an ass!” I laugh.

“Sorry Pet, I couldn’t resist,” he chuckles, releasing his hold lightly to stand in front of me. His hands remain on my waist with a squeeze as he plants a quick peck on my lips. “I missed you.”

“I miss you too,” I grin, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he shakes his head. I frown and Spike is quick to explain. “Wouldn’t want you to go all Zeus on me again.”

I roll my eyes, stepping out of his embrace. “Tease,” I name call jokingly, well... partially.

He’s like a drug dealer who gets you hooked then drops you. Leaving you wanting more, so much so that you’re willing to go mad for it.

“Shilly-shally,” he fires back in a grumble.

My jaw drops as I whip my head around. “What did you just call me?”

He pouts, avoiding my gaze as he focuses on the floor. “Nothing...”

“No, say it!” I challenge, laughing breathlessly. “What did you call me?”

“Alright fine!” He straightens up and closes in on me. “I called you a shilly-shally person! An indecisive fence-sitter! One minute you’re yelling at me- like right now- and the next you’re on me like velcro!” His face softens, “which I don’t mind by the way, but it’s all kinda confusing. I wake up asking myself what version of Y/N am I getting today?” He mumbles the last bit.

My chest rises and falls rapidly as Spike towers over me in such close proximity. There it is again, the electric pull to him that overwhelms my mind whenever we’re in the same room. When we’re apart he’s still in my head. My eyes land on his lips and I can’t look away.

“Y/N...” Spike whispers.

“Yeah?” I mutter, distracted in my own head.

I feel his hand appear on my waist, gliding across my shirt and down my back. He glides closer to me, my chest pressed against his.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he states wisely, but his actions say don’t express the same amount of self-control.

I nod, “We shouldn’t... it would be wrong.” My hands run down his chest and I can feel the ripple of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“We should stop,” he whispers, hovering his lips over my neck.

I hum, I know he’s right, but I can’t break free. It’s if I’m in a trance. “Spike?”

He hums and I can feel his warm breath against my neck.

My eyes fall shut as I ponder the feel of him against me, his hands wondering my body. “I need to do something for me.”

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” he growls. In a swift motion, he grabs the back of my legs and guides them around his waist.

I land on my bed with a yelp and Spike hovers over me. His lips smash to mine with such an intensity that I stop breathing for a second. Spike’s hands claw at my body and I can’t ignore the glowing light that appears when I close my eyes. It’s the same sort I saw in the crypt. My fingers comb through his hair, forgetting everything and just enjoying the sensation.

Spike breaks from me, gasping for air, “you really want to try this?”

I hum, nodding my head frantically. I don’t care about what happens, all I know is that I need spike now! Like right now, this moment! I lean up to kiss him again, but he cowers back subtly. Hesitation consumes his features, “but what if-”

“I don’t know what will happen!” I confess. “But I know I don’t care!”

Visibly, Spike faces an internal battle. His hand hovers over my cheek, he’s so close to touching my skin, but he stops himself. I slip my hand over his and his eyes grow wide as I guide it down to my cheek. I nod, giving him full permission. I want to do this.

I close my eyes, focusing hard on myself and internalizing so I don’t slip away. Spike slips his hand under my shirt and grips my waist. His touch is cold, yet warm at that same if that’s possible. My attention slips to the sensation and I feel drawn to him. No, no, I have to focus on myself. I hear my breathing, I feel Spike’s hand and the bedding beneath me. Steadily, Spike begins to glides his hand down and unbuckles my jeans. My cheeks become warm as they blush.

“Spike,” I mutter, feeling myself becoming distracted.

Ignoring my warning, he continues his pursuit. His fingers slip into my jeans and rub against my core. I inhale sharply as he picks up his pace and deepens his pressure. Spike is making it hard to focus as all I want to do is touch him and be consumed by him. His fingers glide up and down my core at a steady pace. I shift in my position slightly, my back arching off my bed. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to remain focused.

Hurriedly, Spike breaks away from my lips and towers over me. Gripping the hem of my jeans, he tugs them off my legs. Already needing more, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and bring him back down to bring his lips to mine. He continues his motion against my core as he deepens the kiss. He’s not playing fair. My fingers comb through his hair and I find it impossible to not want more. He removes his hand from me to shake off his jacket. Using my magic, I press my hand to his back and remove his shirt. Spike snickers against the kiss at my actions.

“You couldn’t do that to your bloody pants!” he snickers against my lips. “Think you could help a boy out and return the favor?”

I giggle and mentally remove my shirt. In a blink it’s gone, along with Spike’s pants, kill two birds with one stone.

“Can you do that trick more often?” He insinuates.

“Spike!”

He laughs and presses his lips to mine hungrily. It nearly takes my breath away. The addictive sensation of his kiss and a gift from the Devil himself. I roll my hips subconsciously, wanting us to be closed somehow. Spike growls and I feel the vibration against my lips. I’m too weak to deny my want for more. I want everything from Spike.

Then, I start to sense my attention slipping as more of our skin comes into contact. I want to give into him, forget trying to focus. Yet, I’d slip into his mind and would lose control. I’ve never heard of two individuals ‘in the moment’ and sharing a mind. We would be experiencing the same exact thoughts and emotions. I mean, there’s no greater form of being intertwined! We would be physically and emotionally entangled... we would lose individuality altogether. In that supernatural world, that has to have side effects.

“God, I want you, Y/N” he moans.

The sound pushes my willpower over the edge. Oh, screw it! I give into him and toss apprehension aside. All I know is that shagging Spike is all I want. The bright light that I experienced in the crypt is returning. It’s shimmering white and blue shades encompass my sight. The beautiful sensation of electricity coursing through my veins overwhelms my body and soul. I lose myself in the drug-like feeling.

My awareness returns to me in a jolt as Spike enters me. I gasp for a second as I experience the moment fully attached to my body.

"Are you okay, Love?" Spike checks, gently brushing strands away from my face. "Are you still with me?"

I hum as a wave of complex bliss rushes me entirely. Spike continues, and I feel myself slipping away into the angelic, heavenly, warmth that draws me.

"Bloody hell, Y/N," he whispers. His warm breath brushes against my collar bone and he leaves trails along the path. “You’re so beautiful.”

I feared intimacy as it posed a risk, yet how could this possibly be bad? I don't even feel human anymore. I feel... other-worldly! Swiftly, I change the pace, switching positions with him. My strength is magnified as I pin Spike down to the bed by his wrists. He peers up at me with amazement in his eyes. Clearly, he's not used to having someone be strong enough to challenge him. In my defense, I'm not used to holding this much power.

I roll my hips, feeling the pleasure build up in my core. Spike digs his nails into my hips as he squeezes his eyes shut and arches his neck back.

"Y/N," he pants, sounding like warning.

I love the sound his voice, especially now. I can’t imagine my world without him in it. I break away from his lips and start a trail down his neck. He shifts under me as this breathe quickens.

The power he grants me is too great to refuse. I continue my actions, wanting him to hit his climax because of me. All I want is to make him happy, grant him every pleasure the world has to over. The idea of that only excites me more and makes me quicken my pace. There's a powerful charge of foreign magic channeling through my body. My spirit has never been higher.

"Holy shit," I gasp as the feeling of my climax coming into reach.

Who's ever described an out of body experience, I get it now! Every touch, kiss, it's all intensified. Everything I'm experiencing is magnified. The glimmer behind my eyes explodes and my eyes snap open.

"Y/N?" I hear a voice angelic voice speak my name. “Y/N!”

I've never experienced anything like this before! All I see is a bright white light in front of me like I'm at Heaven's gate. Chills travel over my skin and a wave of warmth breezes over me as I approach the bright light. It shimmers and waves of blue glisten around me. All I have to do is reach out and touch it. I hold out my hand toward the light and my hand escapes in it. The light travels up my arm and toward my chest. A glimmering crystal blue lighting bolt like thread pierces my chest and I gasp. My eyes fall shut and the world around me goes dark as I slip away.

"Y/N!" I hear Spike voice fades out like a distance breeze.

_________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @mx-pibbles​ @hexmancia​ @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​

[cutegirlmayra]

Metamy idea...

Amy Rose has been ‘kidnapped’ by Eggman, but Metal Sonic has been tasked to watch after her.

After being instructed not to injury her, but to make sure she didn’t break loose, Amy can’t stand the silence from him and instead, fills the room with her own voice.

After admitting she wants to get to the bottom of things with Sonic, she asks Metal Sonic to mimic him, “That way, if he tries to stop me, I can plan for it ahead.” she nodded, confident this would work.

“Okay! Before I start, you have to look the part!”

Metal Sonic... looks himself over... then looks back up at her.

He spreads his arms out and tilts his head down.

“R-right.” Amy awkwardly scratches the side of her head, “I-I mean, not in appearance in alone! You have to act like him!” She bounces over and begins to examine his arm. “Umm... here.” she moves him into a position, but he yanks his arm away. “Well, not all of Sonic is just his looks! You have to act like he would! Try... Cocky! Handsome and knows it, but also thinks I’m easy when it comes to getting me back.” she rocked a little from side to side, putting her hands behind her back as Metal Sonic thought a moment, then laid slightly against a metal contraption and put his hand under his chin, legs up and crossed.

“Hmm... Less feminine, more ‘You know you can’t leave me that easily, Amy’.”

He readjusted himself after a moment of his eyes looking up at the ceiling, pondering... then simply adjusted his legs to being mostly down and twisting the wrist so he was holding his head up by the side of his hand instead of under it.

“Hmm... Something’s still-”

He then lowered his eyelids.

“Perfect!” She cheered, “Ehem, okay, I’ll start now.” She adjusted her dress, then started to pace around, “Sonic! I have to know!” she flung herself back to facing Metal Sonic as he continued to watch her... closely... “Either you promise that you’ll date me in the future, or you tell me if we are right now!” she stomped her foot down.

“...Too much?”

Metal Sonic tilted his head.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t make it seem like an ultimatum.” she sighed heavily, “Ohhh..!!! How do girls do this!? Tempting a man to make a move but also not actually planning on stepping away? Seems so manipulative... but the movies make it look like it works? ‘You marry me or else!’ sort of a thing?” she continued to be off in her own world but Metal Sonic just readjusted his head... watching her every movement as his eyes naturally calculated each muscle bearing weight, the radius of her slight, girlish turns, and even the distance between her finger hanging by her mouth as it tapped it a few times in her vocal thought processes.

“W-well...” She shook her head, “If I did say something like that to Sonic.. you should still act the way you think he’d respond. You do know a lot about Sonic, right?” she tilted her head to him, and his graphs of her figure suddenly stopped and he nodded only once, looking a bit surprised she noticed his existence again.

“Hehe! Great!” she bounded over, and for a moment, her eyes and his were the closest they’ve ever been without any hostility or need to defend one’s self...

“Ehem,” she cleared her throat again, “Sonic! If you don’t love me, I’m leaving..!” she closed her eyes and declared that with a pointer finger hanging straight up, “B-but not really.” she stuck her tongue out, “I just need you to fight for me...” She hugged her arm on the side... still acting her age as suddenly Metal Sonic shot up from his position, almost jetting himself across their distance.

“W-woah!” She was shocked how fast he was in front of her, but even more at the speed in which he brought her to the ground.

“OFFPH!” she slammed a little too hard against it, Metal Sonic not really knowing the term ‘gentle’ as it were.

“I-I don’t think he’d be that direct...” she slightly mused with a hurt smile, before... looking up at his eyes again...

“M... Metal?” he continued to stare down at her... slowly bringing his head closer to her own.

“A-ah-ahh-haha! Very funny!” she closed her eyes with a sheepish grin. “B-bu-but-but Sonic’s not as forceful as this-!”

He pinned the sides of his hands to her waist, causing her to be unable to move or the sharpness of them would pierce flesh...

She heard her dress’s fabric against them and the slight tearing if she wiggled too much.

She gulped, opening her eyes again and looking in his merciless eyes...

“I... Really don’t think this is what Sonic would... d-d-do...” she was, for some unknown reason, turning breathy...

He made some robotic sound she couldn’t understand...

“W-what?” she tilted her head slightly, and as he bent down further... forcing her to squish the back of her head down even more against the paneled floor,...

Eggman’s doors swung open and she shoved Metal Sonic so hard that he flew to jam himself against the ceiling.

“Epp!” she cried out, getting up as Eggman walked in with two ice-cream smoothies.

“Hello! Just stopped by to make sure you were comfortable before Sonic’s ultimate doom.” he seemed happy-go-lucky, but looked around the room for a second. “Wait, where’s-?”

Metal Sonic’s hide creaked as it was torn from the indent on the ceiling he was stuck in before flopping loudly to the ground.

“Oh, there you are.” Eggman stepped over him, then leaned down to see him, “Hmm... not liking the boredom of being a babysitter, eh? My apologies, but you’ll have your fill of fun once Sonic gets here.” He seemed to mostly ignore him and hand Amy the smoothie. “Vanilla.” He stated, and slurped his loudly through his straw.

“Strange robot, isn’t he?” Eggman seemed to be creating small talk but Amy barely could keep her grip on the smoothie, still startled by Metal Sonic’s actions.

“Y-yeah...” she looked back at him, just laying on the floor... “Strange...” he seemed lifeless, but with a flick of his fingers, she knew he was listening. “He-...”

                         “-Definitely fights to the bitter end for what he wants.”

[quagmiremarch]

The Lies We Tell to Find Our Truth

New fic for Yuri on Ice Regency Week ( @yoiregencyweek). Cross-posted to AO3. Yuuri Katsuki considered himself a respectable man. Simple, perhaps, from a common family and of no great note in either affect or appearance, but polite and mindful of courtesy. Certainly not the sort of fellow to find himself improper or inclined to rule-breaking. And yet, here he found himself, shoulder-length hair curled and artfully draped as he allowed Mr. Phichit Chulanont, his most trusted acquaintance, to fit him into, of all things, a ball gown, for the purposes of committing a most imprudent and scandalous fraud. All for the sake of saving his family’s good name from his sister’s most willful disregard. It had been her that found the Lord Bin’s carriage disabled along the sea road, and she that chose to bring the unconscious lord and his retainer to the onsen to be tended.  And while Yuuri certainly applauded her kindness, and would most likely have done the same, it was not his ‘uncanny loveliness and kind heart’ that had prompted the elderly lord to issue to the Katsuki family an invitation for Mari and an escort to attend the spring ball where she might ‘find a suitor to raise her to the station that was her due.’ So, why then had it fallen upon Yuuri to prevent shame from befalling his family? Because his sister, while kind, lacked in courtesy and graciousness in the face of societal obligations. Which was the polite way to say that she had taken a single glance at the invitation when it arrived and declared, quite loudly, “I will assuredly not waste a fine evening playing made-up strumpet for a room full of arrogant boot-lickers when there is real work to be done.” And then she had tossed the invitation into the embers of the hearth. Yuuri caught a terrible burn in rescuing it, and a mighty headache trying to explain why Mari had no choice but to accept the invitation. The lord had bequeathed the onsen with accolades, and the Katsukis with an honorary title of no real import or value, but which bore a certain weight of obligation. Mari had responded that should Yuuri care so much for appearances and false niceties then he was most welcome to attend the ball in her place. Though perhaps her wording had been a tad more colorful. Regardless, this is how it came to be that Yuuri found himself bedecked and be-gowned in a likely disastrous attempt to pass himself off as his sister for one night. He’d procured the proper clothing, and Mr. Chulanont had a suspiciously skilled had at the application of hairpins and beauty powders to soften his features to something passingly feminine. Though he suspected ‘uncannily lovely’ beyond his reach.

He had even taken time to learn the roles in the dances he might be expected to know despite the mirth of his mentor in this endeavor. Now, he simply had to get to the proper location, avoid causing any offense, and if lucky speaking at all, and return home without anyone learning of this perfidy.

“Why, Miss Katsuki,” Phichit drawled with a sly grin, “you certainly are a vision.” Then the man frowned and stuck a hand down the front of Yuuri’s grown, adjusting the fabric in place to mimic feminine assets he most assuredly lacked. “There, much better. Shall we?”

With a sigh, Yuuri took Phichit’s arm and let himself be led into the carriage. Already it looked to be a dreadfully long evening ahead.

##

To Yuuri’s great relief, the elder Lord Bin was not in attendance at the ball, a minor ailment keeping him away. Not perhaps that it would much have mattered in the crowded ballroom. Everywhere people moved about like eddies and whorls of bright color, men in dapper suits and tails fluttering from one group of young ladies to another much as bees would traverse a field. Yuuri, in the much simpler attire affordable to him, looked much like a robin among a sky full of blue jays.

He found he did not mind. Being overlooked made his plan of going unnoticed much simpler. Lamentably, he had not accounted for his chaperone disappearing onto the dance floor to leave Yuuri to on his own. Still, he tucked himself away in a corner, a single glass of iced punch at hand, and counted the minutes until he might politely excuse himself.

He’d barely reached seven before the first gentleman approached. Tall and broad of shoulder, the younger Lord Bin looked much as his father must have in his prime, all square lines with the darkest of hair and eyes. Not perhaps to Yuuri’s taste—though he kept his inclinations towards those of his own gender close to his chest – but appealing in a general manner.

“Miss Katsuki,” Lord Bin addressed with what might have been either a deep tilt of his head or the shallowest of bows, “it is a pleasure to find you in attendance. I had thought my father’s claims to your beauty exaggerated, but I see now he had, in fact, rather understated your virtues.”

“Oh.” Yuuri swallowed as he felt the heat creep up his ears. While he’d practiced the dancing and the ways of walking in such binding garments, he’d lacked access to information on the ways of upper class polite small talk, had hoped rather fervently to avoid the need to make any. Now, he found himself at a loss as to the proper response to what seemed a rather forward comment. “Ah. You flatter me to greatly, Lord Bin.” He kept his eyes down and hoped any lack of manners would be forgiven as ignorance due to his lower station and not a complete misunderstanding of the expectations of a woman in such a situation.

“I do no such thing.” He offered his arm. “Might I have this dance?”

Yuuri simply nodded, allowing himself to be escorted onto the floor. He found Lord Bin to be a passable dancer, and the jaunty pace of the Scotch reel left no time or room for words between them. He might, perhaps have feared the conversation to come, had another gentleman not swept him up immediately into the next set.

And so, for some time Yuuri found himself surprisingly more entertained then he had hoped, caught up in the mood and the music, always, it seemed, a new face looking to usher him across the floor, and precious little discussion expected of him beyond the niceties of introductions and polite platitudes.

The break for dinner proved more of a challenge. Yuuri understood that ranking and status determined the proper table at which he should place himself, but had a fair lack of context as to the ranking of most the other guests to use his limited information. Phichit, his absence as chaperone the topic of several comments Yuuri received, remained missing from the gathering and so could not be consulted.

“Do you need assistance, Miss Katsuki?”

Yuuri turned at the words and found himself gazing upon the loveliest man perhaps ever created. Taller than Yuuri, though not by a tremendous amount, his eyes shone blue as the summer seas, and he had hair of so pale a blonde as to shine silver in the lights of the ballroom. A friendly smile danced across the man’s fair features, adding an air of approachability to his noble bearing.

“Miss Katsuki?”

Yuuri started, pulled from his shock and suddenly mortified by his terrible rudeness. “Ah! My apologies. I fear I found myself...lost in thought for a moment.” An atrocious excuse for his blatant staring, but the best Yuuri could manage.

“No need to apologize at all. Might I escort you to a seat?” The man offered an arm.

Yuuri offered a shy smile, skin flushing as he felt the man’s warmth even through the thin silk gloves he’d worn to the ball. “Thank you...” he trailed off, at a loss for how to proceed. He knew not the man’s name, nor rank. He feared addressing him improperly as ‘Mister’ when a ‘Lord’ might be required would cause great offense. He worried even more that this might be some man of great import, a Baron or Earl (or Prince for he certainly looked the part) and that Yuuri’s ignorance of his identity might be just as great an insult.

“Victor, please. Might I be so bold as to have your first name?”

Bold indeed, but caught in that azure gaze Yuuri forgot himself entirely. “Yu-” he coughed, and recovered himself quickly, horrified he had so simply nearly thrown away the whole game. “You may call me Mari.” The words came out low, embarrassed. Even Yuuri knew such familiarity on so brief an acquaintance counted as unseemly and forward to the extreme. And yet, something in Victor’s soft smile and the hand resting firmly upon Yuuri’s own invited such misbehavior.

“Mari,” Victor beamed, smile heart-shaped and bright, “a suitably lovely name for such a beauty as you.”

Yuuri wondered if the aristocratic men were always so flirtatious and forward or if they felt emboldened by Yuuri—Mari’s – lower station. A thing perhaps to ponder, though not a terribly important one. After this one eve he was unlikely to ever see again any of these gentlemen.

Gazing up at the strong line of Victor’s jaw, Yuuri regretted that fact for the first time since he’d conceived of this ridiculous plan. Not that there were any point to longing for further acquaintance. Yuuri had arrived in the guise of a woman; any further meetings would lead only to anger and accusations should his deception be discovered. There simply existed no future for knowing this beautiful Victor. Best not to linger on such thoughts. Once dinner completed, Yuuri might reasonably return home and to his simple, but happy life.

Except that as dinner was served, Victor started speaking. He talked with love and mirth of his darling poodle, of the smell of winter on the sea as his favorite scent, of his love of dance.

Poor Yuuri felt defenseless in the face of these revelations and so shared his own: stories of his own dog, anecdotes about the onsen patrons, a long and passionate tribute to ballet as an art and his own less inspiring studies thereof. To the latter he left out the ridicule his devotion to the art inspired in his local peers. Such a study would seem perfectly appropriate for someone like Mari. Another thing Yuuri envied his sister.

Dinner bled into dancing in Victor’s arms, a waltz followed by a shared moment on the balcony as they each drank in silence side-by-side. In the quiet isolation of that space, bathed in moonlight, Victor looked to the sky as he finally spoke quietly, “You are wonderful company, Mari. Might I call upon you sometime?”

And Yuuri froze, eyes wide. “I--” A drunken laugh interrupted as the balcony doors opened and a much inebriated Phichit stumbled upon them. “Yuuri! Here you are! I--” He stopped, gulped as he took in the other person present.

“Duke Nikiforov. You’re...here. With….Mari. Huh.” Phichit blinked owlishly and then grabbed Yuuri’s wrist. “Well, it is certainly late. We should go. Somewhere. Not here. Very well. Good-bye!”

With that the smaller boy tugged Yuuri back into the crowded ballroom and out the door to their waiting carriage.  One part of Yuuri realized this the best course of action. The rest longed to run back to Victor, to tell him the truth and hope against hope the connection they’d formed remained. A pointless dream, he knew.

But, as he looked back once, catching sight of Victor’s bright hair and strong form chasing after, his heart beat ever faster, and he hoped nonetheless, even after the curtains of the windows blocked his view and the racing horses carried him away from the fantasy and home to the onsen where only lonely reality waited.

[maximoff-pan]

Hi! Can I have kiss prompt 52 with Remus please? Thank you!

Prompt:

52. Accidentally Witnessed kiss

Character: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Word Count: 1.4 k (phew, much longer than part one...)

A/n: Man, so tumblr deleted the original ask, (pretty fucked up if you ask me lol)..so this has been rewritten and is probably so shitty, but I tried my best.... a n d despite that, I hope you still like part two! (Most of this takes place in the Gryffindor common room, so if you’re a Gryffindor...you’re in the clear, but if you’re not, just imagine that you snuck in like the rule breaking rebel we all know you are 😉)

You can find part one: here

The warmth from the common room fire illuminates your skin, emphasizing the already heated embrace that you and Remus find yourselves in. Lately, you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, no matter how hard you try, and you do try...really!

The room is empty, everyone off in the hall eating dinner. (Thank Merlin for that) and all that can be heard is your breaths overlapping with Remus’, quick yet steady.

Is this risky? Of course it is. Are you afraid your brother could walk in at any moment? Of course you are. Do you realize how bad an idea this is? Yes, very much yes...But Remus is just too....irresistible...

It’s peaceful, almost sort of monotonous the way you move with each other, like it’s a routine engraved into your memories. Or maybe it’s like you’re simply trying to remember every piece of each other, fighting to never forget this moment....What everything is like right now. Before your brother has to find out and everything has to change.

It’s calm until you hear a voice exclaim. “Holy fuck!” And immediately, Remus flies off of your body.

“Holy shit! Holy fuck!” It’s James, loud and clear. And the look on his face is one you desperately want to forget.

“James—” Remus tries to interrupt, as you’re not able to find your voice.

James is scattered, all over the place, in a craze. “You!” he lifts his arm and points in your direction dramatically, “and you!” He shifts his gaze to Remus. “You-you’re shagging each other?”

“No!” Both you and Remus shout at the same time. “I mean, not really.” You finish.

“Not yet.” Remus replies with a slight smirk. Despite just being caught, he doesn’t feel that scared. This is James...he’d never betray your secret to Sirius. Or would he?

“Look James.” You’re both standing now in front of him, an urgency in your voice. “You can’t tell Sirius.”

James gives you both a once over, his eyes widening with recognition. “Sirius.” He whispers. “Oh fuck! Sirius.”

James is pacing now, nearly in a panic, and Remus doesn’t know what to do. If you’re being truthful, neither do you. You’ve never seen James like this. He’s always so confident and suave, always quick on his feet....But now? Now he looks so utterly conflicted. No matter what he does, he’s betraying one of his best friends.

“You can’t expect me to keep this from him.” He pleads. “You can’t.”

Your eyes portray a pleading look of your own, desperate to convince him not to say anything. But by the time you go to open your mouth, it’s already too late. You don’t get the chance to respond, before the one person you were afraid of walking through the entrance to the common room, walks right through.

“Keep what from who?” Sirius’ voice breaks through James’ panic. “Shit Prongs. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I-” James is frozen, eyes panically fleeting from Remus, to Sirius, to you.

You can see the fear written on James’ features, and you desperately shout the one thing you can think to completly distract Sirius from James’ lack of response. “I’m pregnant!” Shit, this is not a good idea....this could go horribly wrong.

“What?” Sirius’ bellows in shock. Remus’ jaw simply hangs open (even though he knows that’s not a possibility, it still surprises him)...

In hindsight, shouting you’re pregnant to distract your brother from his floundering best friend, in order to hide your relationship with his other best friend, probably wasn’t the best thing to say. It only raises more questions and causes more trouble...but you can’t just unsay it now.

“You’re what?” Sirius asks again.

Your eyes flick over to Remus for a brief second before you look back at your brother. “Pregnant?” You nearly question yourself, shrugging sheepishly.

“Our parents are going to kill me!” He frantically runs a hand through his hair.

Even though this isn’t the time, you’re almost (almost) having fun with taunting him. “You? I’m the one who’s pregnant!”

Remus shoots you a look that says ‘you sly bitch’ knowing full well it’s a lie, and James? Well James doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Oh Merlin.” Sirius breathes. “Who’s the father?”

You let out a giggle, hardly able to control yourself now. “You think this is funny?” Sirius yells.

Remus nearly lets out a laugh himself, hardly afraid of how Sirius will react to your relationship after you’ve pulled this stunt. “(Y/n). I think we should just tell him.”

Sirius visibly pales. “Oh dear Merlin. Please tell me you’re not the father Moony.”

“Not exactly.” Remus replies.

“Not exactly?” Sirius’ eyes are the size of dinner plates. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

James finally clues in to what you’ve been playing at and lets out a sigh of relief paired with a genuine smirk. “It means that (Y/n)’s not pregnant.”

Sirius rapidly turns to James, and then to you, searching for affirmation. “You’re not?”

You shake your head, confirming James’ statement. “I’m not.”

“You’re not!” Sirius cries in relief, wrapping you in an overly dramatic hug. He pulls back quite suddenly, still confused. “Wait, then what was this all about?”

Before you can answer, James smugly beats you to it. “(Y/n) didn’t want you to know that she’s been snogging ‘ole Moony over here.” He gestures to the two of you. “Caught them going at it just before you got here. Honestly thought they might have had sex on the couch if I hadn’t caught them.”

“You’re fucking serious?” The bewildered look on Sirius’ face is slightly intimidating. “You were trying so hard to hide your relationship from me that you genuinely thought telling me you were pregnant was less mortifying?”

You ponder his question for a moment. At least he doesn’t seem mad. “Less mortifying? No.” You respond truthfully. “Less terrifying? Yes.”

“For the two smartest people I know,” Sirius starts, “you’re much dumber than I thought.”

James mimics the pout of a child. “I thought I was the smartest person you know.”

All of you turn to him, letting out boisterous laughs. “Definitely not.” Sirius says.

“I figured as much.” James jokes. “Honestly though,” he shifts his gaze to Remus, who has now wrapped himself around you lovingly, “I’m just surprised you were able to keep your relationship a secret for so long. And I’m even more surprised that Sirius is taking this so well.”

Remus tilts his head in confusion. “James is right.” In the background James confidently coughs something along the lines ‘I always am’ before Remus can continue, causing you to let out a light hearted chuckle. “Why are you taking this so well?”

Your brother simply hums, a devious look in his eyes. He knows something you don’t....and that scares you. (He never knows something you don’t...never).

“Mate,” Sirius states matter-of-factly, the words dying to leave his lips. “I’ve known for three months.” He taps Remus on the shoulder playfully and shoots him a wink. “Just an FYI, you’re terrible at keeping secrets.”

Sirius shifts his gaze to you, pointing a finger in your direction. “And you,” he states, “are a terrible fucking liar.”

With that, Sirius beckons James towards him as he makes his way out the corridor, and up the stairs leading to his dormitory, leaving you and Remus standing there, alone. And in denial...

This time it’s your turn to flounder, mouths hanging open in shock. When had he figured it out? More importantly how had he figured it out? And why was he so cool with it? That last question is really just out of surprise....you’re honestly over joyed that he took it so well. You wouldn’t have known what to do if he hadn’t. But still, his reaction is more than shocking. It’s uncharacteristically not Sirius...not that you’re going to complain.

After of few tense moments, Remus is the first to recover, turning to you with a wild grin. “Guess that means we can make out whenever we want now.”

You send him back an equally cheeky grin, recovering nicely along with him. “Want to test out that theory Mr. Lupin?”

“More than ever.” And just like you’d started this night, you’re back exactly where you belong: the fire beautifully illuminating your features as you’re wrapped in Remus’ warm embrace. Nothing could be better than this.

[i-am-not-anon]

Helping a stranger out: part 21

Summary: Roman is working at a bookstore and his customer needs help. But how much would he do for a stranger?

Author's note: Haha umm it’s literally been a year since I wrote this but I’m determined to get this fic over with. So here you go. Thanks for the support!

Don’t hesitate to message me if you want to be added to the taglist

Pairings: Anxceit (they broke up), eventual platonic prinxiety

Other parts: Part 1(-) Part 20 (-) 

Warnings: Deceit by name Famian, cursing, abusive relationship mentioned, breakup, crying, panic attack, mild angst, manipulative s/o, kissing

.....

Virgil managed to arrange Valerie's birthday party to be the same as Roman's new role celebration, despite the fear in the back of his mind that told him none of them would want to come around. Luckily all of them seemed pretty excited about the idea, and they decided to do it on the next Thursday, to avoid running out of time while Roman was still in town. 

At the early evening of said day, Virgil kept pacing in the living room where various snacks had been spread over the coffee table, and Roman's entire shelf of Disney movies was moved closer so they could choose which ones they would like to watch together. Roman watched Virgil go from checking his phone to peeking at the driveway several times before interrupting him. 

"Virgil, dear, I'm sure they are all coming. It's Valerie's birthday! She's one of my best friends. And why would anyone else decline either? We are going to have fun," he reassured the nervous man. 

"I guess," Virgil shrugged. "It's just that if I was in their shoes I would easily choose to just stay home and watch Netflix. Maybe they think the same." 

"Very well," Roman shrugged. "But at least I know for a fact that Valerie is very extroverted. And she really gathers people around her like a lamp gathers moths."

Virgil snorted at the mental image. Right then, the doorbell rang and Roman let go of Virgil's shoulders (when had he even grabbed them?) and jogged to the door. 

Virgil followed the theatre nerd, walking into a funny scene of Valerie pretending Roman was the birthday prince, and not him. He smiled fondly, friendship was an amazing thing. 

Wish I could get one someday

The deprecating thought crossed his mind before he was able to remind himself that all the people before him, were, in fact his friends. Maybe for not very long yet, but still.

The evening went very smoothly, and everyone seemed to get along well even if there was several friend groups suddenly merged into one. After watching Cinderella they decided on a few board games, and after several hilarious rounds of Pantomime (Who would have known Joan could so perfectly mimic “Pediatrician”), they settled back into choosing another Disney classic, at which Virgil quietly separated from the group to take a few breaths in the quiet hall. 

It was clear everyone in the group liked Roman. Of course, Virgil liked him too, tremendously. And even if he knew it was unnecessary and overthinking, he began to ponder if he felt sad about it because he wanted more attention and acceptance from this group of people or if he wanted Roman all for himself. And he had almost had the Prince, but it still hadn’t worked between the two of them, at least for now. And now he had to share him with everyone else, and they paid so much less attention to him…..

“Virgil?” 

The man in question jumped, looking at the woman next to him. Valerie smiled reassuringly, keeping a bit of distance which she assumed Virgil would apperciate.  

“Something worrying you?”

“No, I mean..” Virgil straightened the strings of his hoodie. “I always stress about social situations, I’m fine.” 

“Alright, I’ll leave you have a quiet moment, but please come back soon.” She moved closer to whisper. “Disney movies are fine and all, but I wouldn’t stand two in a row without your genius commentary.” And then she walked back to the living room. 

Virgil huffed out a quiet laugh. It seemed like Valerie just knew what to say, even if it seemed barely like a side comment. The gloomy man smiled to himself, heading back to the already packed sofa as the intro of Brother Bear was playing on the TV.

“You guys were right, it’s really weird I didn’t know Roman until a couple days ago,” Terrence chuckled after beating everyone at Alias, as teamwork with said man. 

Roman frowned at his game partner “‘A couple days ago’? I just met you today, what are you talking about?” 

Terrence grinned. “I saw you at the auditions for ‘The Newsies’. Knew right off the bat they’d choose you, what a talent!”

Roman blushed. “Oh, thank you! But I still don’t know why you were there, and how I didn’t see you, as I thought I talked with almost everyone there before the auditions.”

“That’s because I’m the costumier, not one of the actors,” Terrence answered. 

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Roman gasped. “Are you coming on tour as well, then?”

“Of course!” Terrence laughed. “How else would you guys survive, having to put the clothes on yourselves? What a tradegy!”

Virgil smiled to himself, watching the convo from across the table. Terrence and Roman looked like soulmates, they seemed to have a lot in common. His stress of letting Roman travel the world lessened, at least he would be traveling with amazing people who cared about him. 

Virgil went to the kitchen, fetching the snacks and carrying them to the coffee table. He was greeted with happy exclamations and was pulled to the crazy discussion that was going on. He didn’t have time to think about how glad he was to have new friends, but it could be seen in the way he laughed among the others.

.....

Taglist: @the-unrealistic-dreamer @selectivereality @metaphoricalpluto @sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet @quietwords-loudthoughts @aesthetemoonshadows @draw-eat-stab-and-sleep @max-is-tired @the5thcoy

[serene-gale]

Shrouded Journey Part 2: A Tale of Poachers

Previous

The hum of wildlife filled the air of Gridania as night fell upon it, the stars twinkling in the sky as fire lanterns washed the buildings of the city in a warm glow. Serene always liked visiting Gridania. It was always such a nice change of pace and scenery from the bustling and arid Ul’dah, however, as much as she wanted to relax a while and drink in the atmosphere, she had work to do.

‘Mother Miounne’, as she was typically called, was busy pouring drinks for the sizable collection of patrons that had gathered in her tavern, the Duskwight humming softly to herself as she finished up with orders, giving her some breathing room, or so she thought until she spotted a red-clad Roegadyn enter the establishment and jovially wave at her. The woman merely shook her head, chuckling, before picking up a Guild Book.

“Serene Gale, Momodi from the Ul’dahn Branch told me to expect you. You slated yourself for a quest in South Shroud, correct?”

“Heya! Yeah, I did, no details on what it was though, mind if you fill me in?”, Serene gave a quick greeting before getting down to business.

Miounne nodded before flipping through her book, taking a few seconds before coming to the quest in question, “Indeed. The quest in question is to deal with the Keeper of the Moon tribes and their illegal poaching. Apparently they are now calling themselves the Coeurlclaws, and have been practically ravaging the wildlife.”, Miounne explained. She took out a writ and started writing down the basic details of the quest, while Serene cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

“Huh...Albex always told me that for as long as he remembered the Keepers toed the line, but never outright performed illegal poaching for as long as he remembered...I’m assuming this must be a splinter group, I highly doubt the entire community decided to up and forgoe their aggrements with Gridania.”, Serene pondered to herself quietly, her words catching the Elezen’s attention as she handed the Roegadyn her writ.

“Oh, you know Sir Couldair? He did make Thanalan his home I guess after...”, Miounne gave pause, much to Serene’s confusion, “Well back to business. We can’t say for certain if it’s just a small splinter group or not, but considering the circumstances, I’d say your assessment hits the nail on the head. I’m impressed Miss Gale, I took you for one of those brawn before brain types, I’m happy to be wrong on this occassion.”, Miounne smiled, her backhanded compliment doing little to budge Serene smile as she laughed.

“Well my pops always said to train the noggin’ as well as your muscles. Or was it mum? Aaah, I think it was more a family saying, you know?”, Serene laughed jovially, causing Miounne to second guess her opinion on Serene’s intelligence. However before any more could be said, Serene asked another question.

“May I ask something? You know Albex through the Guild yes? Where is he now?”, the Roegadyn asked inquisitively.

“Oh? Albex Couldair? Well last I heard he was tracking a high priority target with a large posse of Guild Adventurers. For all I know they could be anywhere but the last bit of information I received told me that they made way for South Shroud.”, Miounne speculated, tapping her cheek lightly, before smiling.

“Who knows, maybe you will meet up with him. Why do you ask though?”, she asked, to which Serene smiled softly at her.

“Oh curiosity’s sake, it’s been a while since we last talked so I figured I’d ask around to see where he is. Anyways, thank you and goodbye for now, I shouldn’t be more than a few days with a request like this. Bye!”, Serene said, waving in an exaggerated manner as she walked out of the tavern, her words causing the Guild Receptionist some concern.

“A few days? But she was on her own and this quest is for two...”, Miounne expressed her worry before shaking her head, “I’ll just have to keep the quest posted in the likely event of failure.”, she muttered to herself before scribbling down notes in her book.

Serene wasted no time in pursuit of her quest, setting out for the Southern sector of the Black Shroud posthaste. Figuring using a hired Chocobo to be the best course of option, she coughed up enough gil for a trip to Quarrymill, one of the larger settlements in the South Shroud. The trip was relatively painless, a few errant monsters stood in the way though Serene deftly fended off such feeble threats with a few menacing looking swipes of her Bo-Staff. Eventually the Roegadyn found her way approaching the village’s borders, spotting the large circular wooden gate that was Quarrymill’s entrance. Hopping off the hire Chocobo, Serene led the bird to one of the public feeding pens and let it partake in some food before running back to it’s starting location. Having left around early to mid morning, the sun was cresting it’s peak and afternoon was setting in, Serene figuring that her time was best spent gathering information on these poachers and striking at them at midnight.

And so Serene got to work enquiring, going about the locals first and asking about recent events, before turning the to the Wood Wailers stationed to guard the village and asking them directly about poaching activity in recent days. Hours passed and slowly but surely Serene started to get a picture of the situation. From what she had gleamed from the village gossip, the Poaching group consisted of a good two dozen members at least, easily the size of a typical Keeper tribe, they were an offshoot of a larger tribe, unhappy with the laws regarding poaching and figuring it only logical to take what wasn’t being taken. She further learned that while the poachers certainly had numbers, most incidents involved with them had members display poor teamwork and a heavy reliance on the decisions of the clan matriarch.

And so it was that Serene’s plan came together. Despite the dangers that came with the Keeper’s exceptional vision, the Roegadyn decided to strike in the dead of the night, while the bulk of their forces were occupied with their poaching. Taking out the clan’s leader would throw the entire hierarchy into disarray, no one individual having the strength to lead the others, and making the sect fall apart.

And so as twilight settled on the treeline of the South Shroud, Serene made her way to the edge of the encampment and lay in wait, using a collection of thick brush off the side of the poacher’s camp for cover. Hours passed with no notable activity on the Keeper’s part, only the occassional patrol served to keep the Martial Artist alert and deathly quiet. Eventually, Serene heard a horn and the hunters of the tribe all began to pack up and leave camp for another night of poaching, this was it.

Waiting a good couple of minutes until all of them seemed to have departed, Serene moved. She had counted 12 heads leave, that meant there was at least 12 left, manageable. As she snuck towards the main encampment, Serene spotted a total of 4 Miqo’te men armed with crude, but efficiently made spears born of the bone of their hunts.

Serene attempted to make her advancement as quiet as possible, making movements that tried to mimic that of a small beast in the wilderness, however the snapping twigs and rustling leaves, while eluding most of the guard, caught the ears of one of the more veteran members of the tribe, who turned and spotted the large Roegadyn sneaking around.

“Oi you! Get that woman!”, the guardsman yelled out loud to his fellow guards and all of them immediately took chase after Serene.

“Shit...”, Serene cursed under her breath and began sprinting. She wouldn’t get another chance at this, if she fled now they would be ready for another sneak attack. The only thing that made sense for Serene was to charge in headfirst.

A pursuit broke out, Serene sprinting at top speed and leaving the guard in her dust, though they weren’t so easily deterred. Eventually, Serene broke through the brush into the clearing of the Miqo’te encampment, in the wake of about 5 to 6 non combatants and the tribe chieftain herself, who was sat upon a large stump which served as her throne. Serene skidded to a halt in the middle of the camp, surprising all around her until the guard finally caught up, a little winded from the chase. The Martial Artist had herself surrounded, much to the amusement of the Chieftess.

“Pffhaha, what’s this? A rat has been chased out of it’s hiding hole. Though by the sheer size of you i guess I should call you a Capybara?”, the Chieftess sneered, to which Serene smirked.

“Well at least your lackeys can see a ‘moving’ target, may need to train them better in the future though. Maybe then you wouldn’t get any pests...also their lack of cardiovascular endurance is worrying.”, Serene jested right back, causing the Chieftess to scowl a little.

“So what do you want here, you giant brute? You don’t seriously believe you’ll get out of this situation you blundered into with witty banter?”

Serene stood up straight and looked to the Keeper Chieftess dead in the eye, “Nah, I don’t have any intention on ‘getting out’ of this situation. No I’m here to put you in your place and knock the daylight out of you so hard your little posse won’t be answering to their precious leader anytime soon. Serene Gale of the Adventurer’s Guild. I’m here to put a stop to your illegal poaching racket.”, Serene pointed at the Chieftain confidently, whom merely smirked and chuckled in response, standing up and sizing up to the Roegadyn, grabbing a gnarled looking axe that sat beside her stump.

“Oh are you? I’d like to see you try that five on one. I’ve always wanted to acquire a giant’s hide, looks like tonight is my lucky night.”, the Chieftess raised her massive waraxe high in the air with one hand before resting it on her shoulder, the lancer guards surrounding Serene all readying their own weapons too. Serene looked around her, smiling to herself before drawing out her own weapon, extending her bo-staff’s length to max with a twist of it’s handle and winking at the Chieftess.

“You betcha.”

Next

[officialtrashbin]

Afterglow

Request fill for @rhyan29!

Rating: M+, NSFW Pairing: ProxiMaw This got incredibly out of hand, and I’m 100% sure that no, this isn’t at all how Maw’s powers work, but at this point, I’ve got nothing to lose. Takes place during their run as Butcher Squadron. Just seems like they made a lot of bad decisions around this time.

Enjoy.

*

“My Lady Midnight, do you hear me?”

Proxima had been dreaming when Maw’s voice rang sharp and clear through the back of her mind, like a spoon striking glass. She was forced from the throws of her sleep, and in the backlash of the awakening, she could only grasp that subtle taste of forgetting a familiar memory before it faded out and the details of the ceiling above her faded in—lake water, disturbed, its surface rippling but inwards until it fell quiet. For half a minute she ensured her handle on reality, and with a deep, undulating annoyance in her voice, said, “What, Maw?”

“Forgive me, I did not realize you were asleep. Your mind felt awake.”

Their telepathy amplified in the still ambiance of the darkness. He had been getting progressively better with practice, unfortunately, and it was much easier to hear him speak when her mind wasn’t distracted. Proxima exhaled and utilized the meat of her palms to scour the weariness from her eyes. “I’m awake now,” she told him bitterly. “Why the hell are you?”

There was a hard-edged truth in his voice when he said, “Sleep did not come so easily to me tonight—and, perhaps I am mistaken, but I heard your voice call my name.”

Proxima gazed up into the dark. “Tell me what you want.”

“Would you believe me if I said I desired to see you?”

Her stomach twisted up. Proxima was never bothered by what Maw said, only by how he said it, and there was no missing the forlorn longing in his tone. She pondered how often it lingered in his speech lately, attempting to recall the instance he came to think of her in such a way, or at least, when, exactly, it got this bad.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Wandering.”

“Like a rat, seeking a dark corner to consume its scraps.”

He scoffed. “How delicately put. I am simply learning to master my newly acquired abilities. I now have the gift of influence—or, if I so wish, persuasion no longer limited to intellectual manipulation. Would you like a demonstration?”

She shouldn’t. “I’ll allow it.”

There was a phantom pressure on her right hand, as if he was suddenly squeezing it with his. “I am learning to see,” he said. “I can sense your outline. A distorted figure, all your energy and how it moves through you, like watercolor spreading across the surface of a painting. It is terribly fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Yes, great. I wish to sleep now.”

The pressure hesitated at her wrist. She knew he wouldn’t leave well enough alone, he never did—always seeking answers where and when there were none. “Proxima, I—there is something I wanted to ask you. Earlier, I overheard your comments to Ballista. How long did you say it’s been? Three years?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t, but that is what I wanted to ask.” What she assumed were his fingers slid curiously up the length of her arm to her shoulder. She thought about testing whether she could mentally break his hand. “Perhaps this is too bold. Allow me to give you what you want, and in return, I can test my powers.”

“What I want? Or what you want?”

“I’d be lying if I denied the nights of fantasies with you at the helm.”

“Is that so?”

He projected a curious image into the forefront of her mind: a fabricated memory of them in his bedchambers last night, him flat on his back, thrusting up into her, perhaps with more empathy than is necessary in a situation like that. His hand was on her hip to guide her motions and she was moaning, gods above how she moaned for him—

Heat pooled into the dip between her legs. He sensed the subtle arousal and told her, “I’m glad you agree.”

She glared daggers at where she assumed his face would be. “You’re a bastard, Maw.”

“That I am. You still have yet to deny—”

“Your advances?”

“Yes.” The phantom presence of his other hand traced the curve of her thigh. “I assume I’ve piqued your curiosity?”

“You haven’t,” she lied.

He projected another placebo into her mind: she was the one on her back this time, spread out in a compromising position, one leg bent over his shoulder and the other pushed open by the thick of her thigh. He characteristically focused on his handiwork, on rolling the flat of his tongue over her clit and keeping her steady as she groaned and bucked her hips against his face.

“Maw, your fantasies are vivid, if not downright lurid, but—”

“That one was yours, dear Midnight.”

Oh. Oh, her dream. Heat rushed to Proxima’s face and a gratifying chuckle escaped Maw’s chest.

“If it is truly that bad,” he said, “allow me to help you.”

Proxima looked at him apprehensively, or at least, ensured he felt her hesitation. Still, Maw slid his fingers under her chin and placed the pad of his thumb against the lower plush of her lip—and, though it was feather-light, he leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. She was stiff against him. Quietly, he told her, “Midnight.”

“Maw,” she replied in kind. A sense of familiarity replaced her previous uncertainty. The kiss deepened. All pressure and no heat, just her cold lips against impossible nothingness. Her hands went up to where they felt the shadow of his figure and held him there by his shoulders.

When they parted, Maw was emboldened just enough to run his fingertips down the centerfold of her body, over the thin layer of her undershirt and under the hem of it. He slid up, taking the material with him, exposing the soft blue of her stomach. The softer blue of her breasts. Her nipples perked in the air, and he traced the circumference of her areola with the pad of his finger, testing her reaction. Had he been there, he would have seen how the blood rushed to her chest, to her face; how it gave her such a flattering indigo hue.

“Go on,” he said. “I want to learn. How do you pleasure yourself on lonely nights?”

Proxima took his other hand and guided it up to her chest, where he took her neglected nipple between his forefinger and thumb. He rolled it, gave it a little squeeze. She knew he was going slow to take this all in. A fantasy fulfilled. Proxima moaned quietly to encourage his movement—and gradually, snaked her hand into her undershorts and between her legs. It was a nice change of pace to have someone else doing some of the work.

She was thoroughly surprised to find how wet she had already become, but it was as she told Ballista, when the two of them reclined in the afterglow of their mission: almost three years of nights spent alone, some quiet and sleepless. Proxima needed this. She could think of anything she wanted to and still get off, a result of curious reverie, but she chose to at least have the courtesy to focus on stroking herself and allow for this momentary diversion.

“Watch me,” she told him, and he did. He observed her, like a predacious avid, head titled slightly to the left. Her fingertip traced the length of her folds, collecting her wetness, and then dragged up to encircle her clit several times before arcing back down to commit to the repetition. Each time she returned the attention to her bud her pulse quickened, her breathing became more labored. Soon she was set in her tempo, and a variation of too-much attention to her clit would send her tumbling over the edge, so she remained at the precipice, enjoying herself.

Maw was tense with his own arousal. He dared to remove one hand from her chest to give himself an experimental stroke. Proxima looked up at him through slotted eyes; the shadow of him was there, distorted against the darkness.

“Did I say you were allowed to stop?”

He smirked devilishly and did as told. “My apologies.”

Proxima reached up, grasping his wrist. “It seems,” she said, and directed his hand between her knees, “if I’m not filling your hands, you’ll find something else to do with them.”

“Mercy. Mercy! That is not the case at all.”

Not that he was going to complain. Proxima allowed him to feel her, and through the link he made out the little details and how the hole of her clenched in anticipation. 

“Go on,” she said, “since you wish to learn my habits.”

Maw swallowed drily. He applied enough pressure to her clit that it felt as if he was really there, and oh, how Proxima moaned, relaxing against her bed. Her knees parted for him. Slowly, he slid one finger in, stimulating her velvet walls with the thick of his digit—she shuddered, and the sensation reverberated mentally, causing him to mimic her pleasure.

“Does it always feel this good?” he asked, pumping in and out of her with prolonged pacing.

She sent him a memory: of one of her more desperate nights, furiously working two fingers into herself, trying to reach the peak of her orgasm but missing the edge each time.

“Then we should remedy that.”

Maw pushed a second digit in. She opened so easily for him; from this angle, he felt the clench of her muscles around his fingers and buried himself to the knuckle, earning an acute gasp and a heated moan.

She sent him another image. Another memory. He almost buckled over at the pleasure that rippled through him, to see such a lude thought—but gods, did he give it to her. He began to thrust his wrist, fucking her into the bed with his hand and she spread her legs for him, moaned and cried out to him, fingernails twisting up the sheets. His mouth claimed her nipple and he worked her open furiously, scissoring his fingers as he pulled out and pushed in deep and kept pace. It was enough to send her to the edge. Her desperate noises filled the room. She subconsciously sent him an image, and he corrected his thumb so it went flat against her clit. Her head tossed back into the pillow. She rocked her hips, desperately close and she hadn’t needed to say that when he could feel it so near to him.

“That’s right. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

And oh, oh gods she did. She wasn’t modest about thrusting her hips down on his hand, digging up the bedsheets with her nails, or even moaning out his name, testing how it sounded amongst the white noise and harsh spasms through her body. He dragged her orgasm out with his fingers, feeling her pulse and clench around him wave after wave, until he sensed the precipice of her overstimulation and withdrew.

The tips of his fingers covered her throbbing womanhood. He took some pride in this, drinking in the sight of her, pulse racing.

When Proxima finally came back down, she realized it was her own hands in his place, and the frigid emptiness of being alone replaced the warmth of the afterglow. For a while, her head buzzed. Her hips throbbed. The apex of her womanhood quivered with satisfaction.

Maw’s presence was in the back of her mind but no longer in the room; she reached out to him mentally, and felt his touch once more, skirting over her forearm.

“Maw?”

“That was fun,” he said thinly. It occurred to her that he sounded distant. “Yet, I feel a little guilty.”

Oh, no. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“My apologies.��� He slid his fingertips down the centerfold of her chest, to her hands and he slowly slipped his fingers into hers, entwining them. “I wish I had the courage to pleasure you in a more direct way—as much as I wish we could have done this under more familiar circumstances.”

No, no no. Too much—

“Don’t,” she warned.

“It is not easy to admit to the strangeness I feel when you are near.”

It was too much.

She didn’t want to hear it, not now and not like this.

“Maw,” she told him firmly, “I wish to sleep. You’ve had your entertainment, now leave.”

His hands retracted. For a while they were quiet, sharing only their emotions, as if there was anything they could do to stop it. For Proxima it was wild-eyed terror equivalent to that feeling of missing a step. For Maw, the pain was secondhand to the bitterness. That was how he was, always so miserable and conniving and jealous, wanting and taking, manipulating—unaccustomed to such fervent denial with nothing in his power to dissuade it.

He spat out, “Will I ever be good enough for you?”

“Get out.”

“Proxima—”

Something cracked through her and burned him like lightning. “Get out of my head.”

“…As you wish.”

Proxima felt the sullen silence the moment Maw put up the barrier between them. She had been by herself in the room all this time but the true depth of it hadn’t rendered until she felt his absence. She ached terribly where his hands had been.

Cold and alone, Proxima got sleep that night, but it did not come easily.

[creative-frequency]

Ravus x Fem!Reader: Glances Ch. 11

Word count: 3300 Warnings: Sexual themes Notes: Modern University AU. This is a spin off for @lucianhuntress‘s fic Love Colored Pens.

Previous Chapter | Glances Masterlist

“Hey, would you mind if we reschedule to 4pm tomorrow? There’s a place I’d like to take you to before dinner.”

You had been staring at the text message for several minutes already, thumbs hovering over the letters. For someone who talked so little, Ravus sure liked to write long texts.

‘Do I mind spending more time with you? Absolutely not,’ you thought, biting your lower lip.

The attire for the date was neatly laid over your bed as you had just finished trying it on. The black dress was your favorite. It fitted your form perfectly, accentuating your outlines with elegance. You had tried to imagine yourself next to Ravus with the dress on, and had come to the satisfied conclusion that it would be perfect for the evening.

The neckline was v-shaped and slightly low cut, but not crass in any sense. The fabric was comfortable to wear and the hem settled flawlessly down to your knees. It was your ultimate dating outfit and if that wouldn’t be good enough to seduce Ravus, which you were totally not trying to do, you would give up.

“Sure! I’m curious to see what you have in mind. See you at 4pm.” You resisted the urge to add a smiling emoji and hit “send” with your thumb before you could delete the message and write it again for the fifth time.

You had completely cleared your Saturday morning schedule to be able to focus on preparing for the date. You took a long shower, applied every possible beauty product you felt like you needed onto your skin and while dressing made sure each piece of garment was in its place without a flaw or wrinkle.

An hour before Ravus would come to pick you up, your heartbeat fastened and drummed in nervous excitement. You wondered was he as nervous as you were as you tried to come up with some topics to discuss beforehand so you wouldn’t fall into an uncomfortable silence.

You triple-checked that the Tenebraean wine was in the cooler, just in case you would end up at your apartment after the date. The bottle was ornate and curiously of light purple shade instead of the usual green. Ravus had told you it was not designed to be left to age, and had recommended you to open it within two years. You had chuckled a bit at his seriousness, but accepted the instructions with a graceful smile.

Fifteen minutes before the agreed time, you paced around the living room, frantically pondering should you still change into those other shoes.

Five minutes early, your doorbell chimed and your heart jumped into your throat before descending down in a fluttering speed.

You took one last glance in the mirror and opened the front door.

There he stood – as impeccably perfect and ethereally handsome as ever.

You beamed at Ravus. “Hey,” you said. Good, your tone was somewhat normal, though the excitement was embarrassingly evident. Well, at least he would know that you had been looking forward to the date.

“Hello,” he replied. Ravus’s eyes glided down and back up your form. The light pink spots rising to his cheeks revealed just how well you had succeeded with the dress.

‘Nailed it,’ you grinned inwardly.

“Shall we?” you asked and waited for Ravus to nod before fetching your coat and dressing hastily.

“You look perfect,” Ravus managed to say when you looked expectantly at him with your top coat and scarf on.

Your cheeks flushed with heat at the unexpected compliment. “T-thank you.” Before you could start even to think about returning the praise, Ravus continued:

“I could stare at you all day.”

You just melted.

“Then we’d miss whatever you had planned,” you uttered with a nervous giggle.

“Perhaps some other day then,” Ravus said and your heart made somersaults at the light suggestive tone. He offered his arm to you and escorted you outside.

In the car, which was as fancy and expensive as expected, you fell into a comfortable conversation and you realized how unnecessary your earlier worries had been. Your efforts to try and come up with topics had been in vain, since the discussion flowed on without a hitch. Even though he could be an awkward bean, Ravus was unmistakably talented at making conversation when he wanted to.

Oh and he wanted to with you. Your heart fluttered at seeing the man so relaxed and his smiles so easy. You truly would have to categorize the sight from “rare” to “uncommon”.

“I hope you’ll have a good time today,” Ravus said nonchalantly, but with an earnest tone.

You almost squealed in delight at thinking how you were on a date with Ravus. It was really happening. Finally. You peered at his side profile. All of the awkwardness and oddity was gone in that moment and you felt just happy.

“Will you tell me now where we are going?” you asked with impatient curiosity, when Ravus steered the car towards the highway, away from downtown.

He smirked lightly, but kept his eyes on the road, which you actually appreciated. You were glad you didn’t have to drive with that gorgeous being sitting beside you.

“Have you visited the botanical garden of Insomnia?” Ravus asked.

You tilted your head to the side while looking at him, thinking. “No, I haven’t. But I heard there is some sort of rare exhibition?” You had actually seen an advertisement about it in the newspaper, but never focused on it enough to actually read what it was about.

“Yes, they opened the new orchid house yesterday”–Ravus took a side-eyed glance at you–“I hope it’s okay that we go visit. We don’t have to stay for long–“

“I’d love to see it,” you hurried to say and were rewarded with an endearing smile.

The trip to the botanical garden was a short one. The new house was located at the far most end of the western portion of the central park, creating another inviting attraction to extend one’s leisure stroll. Despite having a car at your disposal, you had never been in that part of Insomnia before. You turned around on your seat, taking in the new sights. Ravus was readily telling you about the area and you got the image that he would like to spend more time out in the park, should he happen to have a day free.

As you arrived, instantly you discovered that the event was quite popular among certain crowd. The parking lot was nearly full and people were coming and going to the garden.

Whatever you had been expecting for the orchid house to be, you were surprised nevertheless. The building was bigger than you had thought, and very Insomnian in its modern architecture. It was covered in glass panels and you could see the out-bursting greenery leaning against the windows.

The orchid house was built to mimic the tropical highlands of Tenebrae, namely the cloud forests of Ulwaat. After taking a look at the map at the entrance, you realized that was practically where Ravus was from. Suddenly your interest towards the contents of the tour grew profoundly.

You held on to Ravus’s arm as you strolled inside. The damp air hit you as soon as you stepped inside the garden from the entrance hall. You let out a soft gasp. Everything was so green. You had never seen anything like it. Mist was rolling in the surprisingly cool air and you could hear the sound of rain somewhere in the distance.

“Everything okay?” Ravus asked softly as you walked onward on the wooden trail in the middle of the out-stretching plants and low trees. You turned to look at his face in wonder.

“It’s amazing!” you breathed out, eyes wide as saucers.

A smile spread onto Ravus’s lips as he regarded your expression. You were already leaning towards him, eyes fluttering closed, thinking that he would kiss you. Then a voice called out to you.

“Fancy meeting you here!”

You both turned to look at the man standing in front of you, wearing an obnoxious smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Izunia,” Ravus said in a cool tone.

You were thinking fast whether you should take a step away from Ravus or not, but then again, you were on a date, so you held on to his arm as it was nothing out of the ordinary. It didn’t go unnoticed by Ardyn.

“Hello,” you greeted the Chancellor and tried to come up with a pleasant smile. Why did it feel like you had just been caught from doing something forbidden? Ardyn eyed curiously between you two.

“Well, well. Now I understand why you declined my offer to work in Gralea.” His words were appointed to you, but his gaze also flicked to Ravus.

A slight heat rose to your cheeks. ‘Well, he isn’t wrong…’ you thought and let out an airy laugh since you had no idea how to respond to that statement aloud.

“Have you come to enjoy the new garden too, Ardyn?” you asked. You could feel how Ravus’s posture stiffened by your side and he inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Along with your prestigious institution, the University of Gralea also has gifted its time and resources in building this place – thus, I’m here by invitation,” Ardyn explained with a crooked smile.

“Really?” Ravus asked uninterested.

Ardyn shot him a grin. “Really. Though I must say Professor Nox Fleuret, you truly have made the discovery of the century.” He motioned towards you.

Ravus quirked a brow at him and you frowned in confusion. Ardyn directed the most charming smile at you before continuing. “All these flowers, yet they pale in comparison to your beauty,” he said in his oiliest voice.

You were definitely blushing and tried to stammer a natural-sounding laugh at the exorbitant praise.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that fact,” Ravus replied coolly and you felt how he pulled you slightly closer. It made your insides tingle.

Ardyn just looked at you with unnerving mirth on his face. “Ah, I must be off, lest I get left behind by my guide”–he made a nonchalant motion to behind him–“But the work offer still stands… for both of you. Should you change your mind, I’ll be waiting.”

He lifted the fedora and bowed his head slightly, then paced away.

“He’s uhh, an extraordinary person,” you noted and turned to look at Ravus. He was leering at Ardyn’s retreating back.

Ravus sighed and mustered a smile at you. “Shall we continue?” He would have rather just forgotten the Chancellor existed.

You smiled back and took a better grip of his arm. “Please.”

Despite the uneasy feeling the chance meeting with the Chancellor left in the pit of your stomach, your date continued on pleasantly. As you paced onwards in the midst of the greenery, Ravus told you all sorts of interesting facts about the plants. He knew surprisingly much about the orchids, and you found it quite endearing. It was quite clear that he was driven by passion and interest rather than pressure from his family towards the field.

You were engrossed inside your own little bubble; you held Ravus’s arm, enjoying his proximity, and he spoke in a soft tone that pleasantly coddled your sense of hearing. The atmosphere in the orchid house was truly a unique one and you wondered what it would be like to visit the original area, where the orchids grew wild in the nature.

But you had the next best thing as Ravus told you about his ventures in the cloud forests of Tenebrae. As a boy he often had been out there without permission. He described it as “another dimension, where the rest of the world disappears”. Thanks to the everlasting mist, one could only see a short distance away. Being enveloped in the silence allowed Ravus to gather his thoughts and focus.

The tour in the orchid house was over before you realized, but taking a look at the time revealed that you had spent almost two hours in there.

“We should hurry. Our table reservation is at six,” Ravus said, snapping you out of the mist that rolled inside your mind. You had felt so comfortable walking beside him, holding his arm and listening to his soothed voice.

As you stepped outside into the cool air, all the reveries about the forests of Ulwaat shattered into distant images. You wrapped your coat tighter on and hurried back to the car.

The restaurant was naturally one of the fanciest in the city, right in the centrum in the top floor of a skyscraper. The view from the wall-high windows was stunning. You had never seen Insomnia from that perspective and you forgot yourself staring outside after you were guided to the table.

Ravus examined the delight on your features with gratification. He loved to see your eyes lit in wonder and the smile slipping onto your lips made his curve upwards too.

“What kind of place is this?” you asked curiously. As you glanced at the menu, it became evident that it was at least the expensive kind.

“Hmm? They serve mostly Southern Accordan dishes, but I think there’s something else too…” Ravus took the menu and opened it.

Your eyes widened and you focused your attention completely on the list again. Indeed they had foods that were particularly familiar to you – though many of them had been tuned to be more extravagant and suit a richer palate.

“You… you brought me into an Accordan restaurant,” you hummed moved, looking up from the menu. It was an unexpectedly considerate of Ravus. And you hadn’t even known there was such a place in the city!

“I hope you’ll like it,” Ravus said nonchalantly, but couldn’t help the warm smile that broke through.

He let you order for the both of you, pretending he didn’t know exactly what each dish was.

The food was a trip down the memory lane. You caught yourself talking about your family and the silly traditions you had regarding different holidays and their servings. It was all so unlike what Ravus told you in turn about Tenebrae: His family gatherings had been “dull” and “stuffy” in his words and nowadays he avoided them as best as he could, whereas yours had usually been more intimate and warm, a treasured time spend with your family.

Ravus also mentioned that his mother had proposed an arranged marriage for him some time ago, and a block of ice dropped into your stomach before he continued that he had turned the offer down immediately. It had happened after he had met you.

The evening flew fast as you conversed and enjoyed the phenomenal food and good wine. The restaurant would surely become a place for you to visit when you missed home and wanted to treat yourself – hopefully in Ravus’s company.

When you had finished the main course and were waiting for the waiter to come and ask about the dessert, a flower seller walked into the dining hall. She held a braided basket on her arm, filled with stunningly beautiful, huge roses of different colors.

“Excuse me,” Ravus murmured and flashed a reassuring smile to you before you could ask what he was up to.

You looked after his back as he paced over to the flower seller and bought a single purple rose from her.

Then he walked back to you and you had difficulties remembering how to breathe. He offered the flower to you with only a gentle smile on his lips. Your hand shook as you accepted it.

“Thank you,” you murmured and inhaled the sweet scent. You had no idea what the meaning behind a single purple rose was, but it was gorgeous and the gesture was so ridiculously romantic that your knees felt weak. “It’s lovely,” you uttered and laid the flower gently to the tableside. “What does it mean?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” Ravus promised as he sat down.

Your heart fluttered at the nonchalant tone and you beamed back at him.

For dessert you ordered the traditional Altissian shortcake with orange jam. You told Ravus about the carnival you had visited in Altissia and how that had been the first time you had tasted the delicious pastry. Afterwards you had practically blown up the kitchen in trying to make the dessert at home. Your mother had not been happy at all.

You laughed and enjoyed the last drops of the wine without any rush to leave the restaurant. So far the evening had been just perfect and you were almost purring. You had again become completely invested in each other, not noticing anyone or anything else around you.

You still couldn’t believe how you were the one who got to admire how Ravus elegantly lifted the wine glass to his perfect lips, took a sip and after placing it back to the table, swiped some stray hairs back. Your heart was about to burst and you wanted to squeal out loud.

With every passing moment you were getting more anxious about inviting Ravus over to your place to continue the evening. Every fiber of your being hoped he would come, but if not, you would be happy to end the date there and let sweet reveries lull you into sleep.

Soon it came time to leave the Accordan restaurant. Like a true gentleman, Ravus helped your coat on and offered his arm for you to take. The rose was firmly in your other hand and you held it gently against your chest. Ravus escorted you to the elevator and you both paused at the realization that you were completely alone for the short moment.

You peered at Ravus from under your lashes and caught his glance.

“This was a really nice place,” you said softly, drawing his gaze to your painted lips where it lingered in silence. You were standing closer to him than necessary, still holding on to his arm, face tilted invitingly towards his.

“Can I kiss you?” Ravus asked quietly and already leaned forward with slightly parted lips.

“Are you asking just for the dramatic effect?” you teased and inhaled the scent of his cologne. It was pleasant, not at all unsavory like the strong whiffs you had caught when passing other men in the restaurant. Ravus’s scent just soothed your mind and you inhaled again, more deeply.

A smirk spread onto his face. “…I’m asking just for the dramatic effect.”

“It’s more dramatic if you don’t ask,” you smiled, heart fluttering in anticipation.

Ravus closed the distance between your lips, finally pressing his onto yours. You would have been lying if you had said that you had not waited this for the whole day. The date had been perfect, but the lingering kiss you shared in the elevator made it even better.

Your free hand rested on Ravus’s chest and his hands caressed down your sides, so gently that you felt a wave of shivers.

Just when you were about to deepen the kiss and cup Ravus’s cheek, the elevator chimed and two seconds later the doors opened.

Fortunately, no one was standing behind them, waiting to be let in. You pulled away with a light, dreamy smile adorning your lips. Ravus’s expression was not far from yours.

“So I have that wine chilled to perfection back home,” you said, emboldened by the alcohol already coursing through your veins and the heady, tender kiss.

Ravus cocked an eyebrow at your obvious suggestion. “That is an offer hard to turn down.”

“I know,” you purred and dragged your fingers down his arm. It seemed like your most seductive smile was working since Ravus swallowed.

“I’ll call us a cab.”

Next Chapter

Tagging: @insomniasix @daschstuff @violinbetty @stephicness @serena7710 @commodorexaranea @ignis-alias-specs @insomniacapples @lorddeer-vus @singergurl91 @atlerion @singlebecauseofthechocobros @owldearest @bleucommelhiver @themissimmortal @theyearofdiamonddogs @breezy-day @gunstarpink @frostgiantdesu @lokewight @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads

Let me know if you want or don’t wan’t to be tagged in the future~

[prolestari]

My spamming continues with another new oneshot, called Before Her. It’s a reinterpretation of chapter 248. You can check it out on FFNet or AO3. An excerpt is below. Warning for angst. Much thanks to @galfridus1 and @thegoddesselizabeth for listening to me talk about this for two days.

Before her, there was darkness. There was life: eating and hunting and killing, blood and fire and the spark of pain. There was color and taste and sound, the feel of dragon scales being pulled from soft flesh, the brush of wind against his face as he took off into the air, the heavy pressure of a sword. It was a full life, a good life. But it was all in darkness.

He sits in the castle that is not his own and ponders this darkness now. Elizabeth is pacing in the room, and he wants to reach out and touch her. The light hovers just beyond his vision, and maybe, just maybe, if he reaches and snatches her up, then he can have the light for his own—

(Don't hurt her. I'll kill you.)

He smirks at that. As if death is an option for any of them.

His head is bowed and he stares at his hands. The pressure on him now is immense, more than he has felt in an age. It is her fault he is like this. The dark life was better than this. Because now that he has known what emotions are, now that he has felt more than the satisfaction of hearing a scream or the warmth of the blood that covers his hands, the loss is difficult to comprehend. White light and soft feathers and trembling lips had become his world, and it's gone now, all because she—

No, it is his fault. The one who took the emotions, the one who cursed them and set him on this never-ending path. Oh how he will enjoy ripping the power of the demon clan right out from his body, the spray of gore from the sword he will plunge down his throat. Nothing will stop him from taking what he wants.

(Do you even know what you want, anymore?)

"Meliodas, please. You can't do this."

That voice breaks through the dark thoughts.

"There has to be another way. You can't become the demon king!"

He lifts his head, already heavy, even without the crown.

"Please understand, Elizabeth." He is formal, direct. Meliodas will not allow her to affect him any more than she already has. It's a dangerous balance, to keep her close and at arm's length, but he must if he is to survive this. If they both will survive this.

He can see in her eyes immediately that she is not pleased. Good, he thinks. Make her hate you.

(As if she could. As if you could. As if she is not already living inside of y—)

"This is the only means I have left." He is speaking to himself as much as to her now. "'I will break this curse, no matter what it takes.' That is the promise I made to you."

"But I'm scared," she answers. He should feel a tightening in his chest, a little twist in his heart to know she is afraid. He should want to hold her and comfort her, and find (hurt kill) the source of her fear. He should be experiencing it in his head and his chest and his heart. But he does not, and that emptiness fills with anger without any other emotion to take its place.

As she speaks, he leans forward, pressing his fist into his stomach. Perhaps if he causes his own pain, he can spark something. Fake the pain of losing her and losing this, and it will lead to true, honest pain. He grinds his knuckles into his skin, feeling the bruises form. This is where it happens, isn't it? Right here, in the stomach, below the ribcage? He would laugh if he wasn't so pathetic, trying to mimic emotion.

"The demon king's power is great," he says quietly. And he hates that, he hates how much more powerful the old god still is. Even with half of his magic split among the ten, even sealed away into Purgatory, the god could still crush him. Crush all of them.

"I will not be able to stay in Britannia anymore." This is also heavy on him, and not just because of her. There is grass here, and rain, and sweet cream and ale and the smell of cedar. He cannot feel anymore but he remembers, the memories like shackles that drag him into the darkness. Why couldn't the king have stolen his memories instead of his emotions? One without the other is torture… although that was most likely the entire point.

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Beloved Part 2

I dont know why this happened, but I’m weak, love my baby Violet, and yes, I stayed up until 3 am writing this mkay so feedback would be appreciated. Also please tell me what you think about the donation/commission thing I mentioned before. Thanks!

Taking care of a baby was hard work. Keith was tempted to say it was even harder than being in war. For the first few weeks, Keith and Lance had been terrified to hurt Violet when changing her diaper, her clothes, when bathing her, burping her. Lance had a little more experience from having taken care of his siblings, but it had been a long time since he took care of a baby, so he was still hesitant.

After a few months, Keith got used to it and managed to be a little more confident in taking care of his daughter. Lance’s favorite thing was putting her to sleep and watching her breathe and smile from whatever she was dreaming. Keith’s favorite thing was feeding her because she would place her hand on Keith’s and make the cutest little sounds as she drank her bottle.

Pidge and Hunk were able to create a few soft toys for her to grip and fascinate herself with. Coran had managed to sew blankets together to make a quilt for Violet so she could lay on the floor and work on lifting her head. Allura liked getting the mice to perform for her, watching her purple eyes flit and follow the colorful critters.

When Violet was almost six months old, and able to sit up on her own with a slight support on her back, Keith began switching out with Shiro on missions. The first time he left Violet was the hardest, but he was more determined than ever to get back. When Violet was ten months, she began lifting herself up and standing while holding something for balance. With Hunk’s help, she was given a healthy diet of foods to nibble on. With Pidge’s, she was learning to differentiate colors even if she couldn’t say them.

When Violet turned a year old, a small party was thrown before an attack caused them to leave Violet in a special bunker made to keep her safe while Shiro and Coran stayed behind in the control room with one eye on the monitor in the bunker. That battle resulted in Lance getting injured so badly, he spent the night in the cryopod. When he got out the next day, Keith took him to rest in bed. Before he fell asleep, he asked Keith to marry him. Keith said yes.

Then Violet began walking. And she began talking. Suddenly she was three. Then five.

Now she was six. The team was coming back from another battle and Violet was rushing out of her bunker to hold on to her parents for the next hour. When the team came back, Violet barely managed a greeting to her aunts and uncle. She just needed her fathers.

She ran until she managed to leap onto Keith, wrapping her arms around his neck. She looked up in search of Lance who was already coming up behind them. She reached out and burrowed her face between them. “I’m so happy you’re safe,” she whispered with a trembling voice.

Keith held on to her and sighed, running his hands through her unruly curls. “We’re okay. We’re okay, buttercup.”

“Come here, princesa,” Lance murmured, pulling her into his arms.

He peppered her cheeks with kisses and she squirmed, smiling for the first time since the alarms went off. “Papi, your beard itches!” she giggled. Keith smirked and took Lance’s hand as they left to change out of their armor. “Why do you always have to go fight?” she asked, playing with a doll they’d gotten from the Space Mall.

“Well that’s what happens in a war,” Lance said, pulling her into his lap. “You have to fight a lot for a long time.”

“But why does it have to be you and Daddy and Aunt Pidge and Aunt Lura and Uncle Hunk and-”

“Well,” Keith interrupted with a chuckle, “We’re the ones the lions chose. We’ve told you the story of finding the lions and meeting your nino and Allura. We told you about finding the lions.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I get scared.”

Lance kissed her forehead and scratched behind one of her ears, causing it to flick. “I know, mi nina. We get scared too.” Keith gave him a warning look that Lance pretended he didn’t see. “Go see if Nino wants to draw with you while we get out of the gear, okay? Then we can make some cookies.”

She nodded and bounded off the bed before leaving the room. When the door shut, Keith looked at Lance. “We get scared too? Lance, we’re her parents.”

“Yes, so we should be honest with her,” he answered, crossing his arms as Keith removed his armor and changed into more comfortable clothes.

“Not about that!” Keith ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Look, she’s young, to her we’re invincible-”

“And what happens the day one of us can’t come back? I’d rather she know we’re not invincible and teach her to be smart and to cherish every moment she has with us than let her think nothing will ever happen to us and never be able to explain why one day we might not come back.” Keith grit his teeth and stared at him. Lance took a moment to change before facing Keith. “I know you want her to have this picture-perfect family you didn’t have, and you want her to stay innocent, but we’re at war, Keith.”

Keith covered his face with his hands and plopped onto the bed. Lance wrapped his arms around him and held him close. “I didn’t want this for her, Lance. I thought we’d be home by now.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered. “But we have to help her understand these things. It’s what would be best for her.” He sighed and leaned into him. “Come on. We have cookies to make with our daughter.” He tilted Keith’s face toward him and kissed him.

They left the room and found Violet sprawled on the floor doodling next to Coran. As Keith and Lance got closer, she scrambled to hide her drawings and shoved them into Coran’s hands. “Hide them, hide them!” she whispered. Coran chuckled and held her drawings near. “Papi, Daddy, can we make cookies now?”

After a few failed attempts to make cookies, Hunk ended up taking over while Violet tried to get Pidge to play with her.

“I’m sorry, munchkin, I would but my leg is hurt. See?” Violet peeked over and looked at the ice pack Pidge had taped around her leg since they got back. Violet sighed and nodded, walking away with dramatic slowness.

Keith smiled and followed her until she turned and looked at him with a somber expression. “Hey, buttercup. What do you say I take you into the training room?” Her eyes lit up. Keith hadn’t taken her to the training room before. He was always worried she’d hurt herself. He thought she was too small to start handling weapons, but he hated how sad she looked with nothing to do.

“Really?” He nodded and took her hand, leading her to the training room. “Are you gonna teach me to use your knife?”

Keith laughed and ruffled her hair. “Not yet. That’s a little too dangerous.” She deflated and Keith turned her so he could put her hair up in a quick bun. “But I can teach you to fight, if you want.”

“Then I can go with you to fight! And I can help!” Keith felt his heart drop, but he tried not to let his face show the amount of fear and pain those sentences gave him. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and gestured to the mat.

“Okay, first you need to stretch. That way you don’t get hurt.” They went through a few stretches and exercises before Keith handed her a long wooden stick. He grabbed his own and stood beside her, showing her defensive moves, blocking methods, and attacks. She jumped excitedly each time after she managed to mimic her father’s movements.

“Okay, okay, I wanna fight now. Come on, Daddy let’s fight!” She pulled his arm and turned to him, holding her staff like he’d taught her. Keith smiled and began offering feeble attacks that Violet blocked and fought against with fervor. Keith smiled as he watched her fight and work so hard. His heart swelled with pride and he chuckled as he stepped back.

Violet was breathing heavily and Keith offered her a high-five. “That was really good, buttercup. You’re a fast learner. Let’s go find Papa and show him what you learned.” He leaned down to carry her and kissed her cheek.

“Daddy, if we’re both Galra, how come you don’t have ears like me?”

Keith bit his lip and pondered how to answer. When Violet was four, she’d asked why her ears were different from her fathers’. It helped to have Allura and Coran there to show her that others had different ears too. She didn’t know that it was the Galra they had been fighting for the last several years. The team had begun referring to the Galra as “the enemy” or “the empire.” Keith had only told her they both shared alien blood.

Now, he had to figure out how to explain why he didn’t look more like her when they both had alien blood without explaining how he was able to hold her in his own body. He sighed and looked at her. “Well, a lot of people look different from their parents. My mom was Galra but I look more like my dad. I only have different eyes. It’s all science stuff. You got the ears and my eyes. But you look a lot like Papa.” He touched her nose and she smiled, leaning into him.

“Will I ever meet my grandmas and grandpas? And the aunts and uncles Papi tells me about?”

Keith sighed and thought about what Lance said when it came to be honest. “I don’t really know, kiddo. I hope so though.” She hummed, but didn’t ask anything else.

“Mis tesoros!” Lance cooed when he saw them coming back.

“Papito! Guess what? Daddy taught me to fight!” She squirmed away from Keith and toward Lance, excitedly explaining what she’d been taught.

Later in the day, Violet was pacing around the room restlessly. The constant patter of steps eventually made Lance burst. “Violet, please stop walking around and sit down,” he sighed.

“But I’m bored!” she whined.

“Then find something to do,” he said. “Draw, or write, or learn something-”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Do not yell at me,” Lance warned in a low voice, crossing his arms. Keith sighed and rubbed his head. Suddenly he heard sniffles and cries.

He looked up and saw Violet crying, her face red and wet. “What did you do to her?” Keith snapped, walking over to her.

“I didn’t do anything,” Lance muttered. “Violet, stop crying. No one’s yelling or hurting you.” She mumbled something unintelligible and Lance sighed and leaned down. “What? I can’t understand you when you’re crying like that. Look at me. Violet Esperanza, I said look at me.” Violet’s bright purple eyes flitted to him. “Now I need you to take two deep breaths.” She did. “Now speak clearly.”

Her face contorted again and more tears fell. She looked down and mumbled, “I said s’not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Keith asked gently.

“That I’m the only kid,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “I don’t have no one to play with and I’m always by myself because everyone’s big or busy. It’s not fair! I want a little sister to play with!” As she spoke, her voice rose and she began crying again, hiding her face.

Lance stood up and stared at Keith, dumbfounded. Keith looked pale. He glanced at Lance and they both seemed at a loss.

Suddenly Allura came in with Coran behind her. “Why is Violet crying?” she asked.

“Um… well… apparently she wants a sibling,” Lance choked.

“Ah, so she told you,” Coran chuckled.

“What?” Coran dug into his pocket and held out some folded papers. Keith took them and unfolded them. He saw bubble figures of two girls covering each page. Playing games, playing tag, standing with Keith and Lance. The word: “sistr” was written over the smaller girl with the second s backwards. “Oh God,” Keith breathed.

“Vi, since when have you been feeling like this?” Lance asked, his voice softer than before. She shrugged and sniffled. “Aw, princesa, I know it can get lonely. But it’s hard enough to keep you safe right now.”

She nodded and looked down. She wiped her nose and walked away, leaving her parents to process what they’d learned. “She wants a sister?”

“Well, it makes sense. She’s the only child, she gets bored,” Allura pointed out.

“It makes sense, but it’s not… it’s not an option right now. For one, the pain was unreal. Having Lance leave all the time made me anxious beyond belief. And having to leave behind two kids? To protect two children from all of this?” Keith shook his head and rubbed his face. “This is just….”

“Really fucked up?” Lance suggested. Keith nodded. “Could we get a moment?” Lance asked the Alteans. They nodded and left. Lance walked over to Keith and ran his hand through Keith’s hair. “Can I ask you something?” Keith hummed. “If there was no war…. Would you want another kid?”

Keith looked up and sighed. “I mean…. Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I love Violet so much, and I know now that I can do this. That we can do this. And we’re married now. I want Violet to be happy more than anything, I’d love to raise her in a family of siblings like you were. But there is a war. And we’re on the frontlines. Every single time we leave, she holds back tears. Each time we come back, I can feel her shaking in my arms. I don’t want to bring another child into this.”

Lance nodded and wrapped his arms around Keith. “I know. Violet happened… out of nowhere. And I know that each time something happens, you feel guilty for bringing her into this kind of life. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t regret having her,” he insisted.

“I didn’t say that,” Lance said gently. “I’m just saying… Violet was a surprise. A new baby… well we’d be prepared. We would plan.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “I just… I don’t know if it’s healthy for her to grow up so isolated. She has no one to interact with besides a handful of adults.”

“A baby shouldn’t be a solution, Lance. It should be… something we just want. Not a suggestion from a six year old or a way to socialize her.” Keith sighed and shook his head. “I just wish this war was over.”

Lance interlaced their fingers. “I know. You’re right. But we need to do something about Violet.” Keith scoffed and looked at the ceiling. What the hell had happened to their lives?

***

In the span of a few weeks, Violet had slowly become slightly withdrawn, quieter. Keith could see it in her eyes; she was upset. She was lonely.

One night when Lance was braiding her hair before they tucked her into bed, Keith sat in front of her and took her hands. “I know you’re sad, buttercup. And I wish I could change that. We’re in a war, and it wouldn’t be safe to have another baby right now.”

“I know, Daddy,” she sighed.

“You know, you’re still lucky. Even without a sibling.” She frowned and looked up at him. Lance’s hands hesitated as his eyes drifted over to Keith. “When I was little, my mom went away. She left me with just my dad. And then I lost him too. I was all alone for a long time. I didn’t have anyone to talk to or play with. I became angry and it became hard for me to talk with people.” Lance snorted, but Keith ignored it. “And then, I went to a school for pilots and I met Uncle Shiro. He became like my big brother. And then he got lost.”

Violet gasped. “Twice,” Lance added. Violet looked between them wide eyed. Keith nodded, confirming it. “Did you know Daddy and I didn’t like each other when we first met?” Violet frowned and tilted her head. “We were always fighting, getting mad at each other, making fun of each other.”

“But it was just because I was so used to being alone,” Keith said. “I was scared that everyone was going to leave me if I let anyone close. I didn’t really know how to love someone or what it was like to be loved.” He tugged lightly on Violet’s hair. “But you have two daddies that love you very much.”

“And aunts and uncles that love playing with you. You know, when you still weren’t born yet, Uncle Hunk said he was going to be your favorite uncle.”

Violet giggled. “And you have a Nino who would do anything to keep you safe.” Keith pinched her cheek playfully and smiled at her. “So… even though we can’t have a big family like Papa, you’re still a very lucky little girl. Because you have people who love you so much and who want to protect you.”

Violet looked down and nodded. “Yeah. I’m lucky.” She pulled herself onto her knees and hugged her fathers in turn. “I love you,” she whispered.

“We love you too, preciosa. Now get into bed and go to sleep.” Lance leaned over and kissed her forehead. Keith followed suit before leaving her room. Lance wrapped an arm around him and sighed. “That was good,” he murmured.

“I thought it would help her to know.” They reached their room and settled in to sleep. Keith like sleeping on his stomach while Lance preferred to sleep on his side. The cuddle days were over. Now it was just a matter of not tossing Lance over the side of the bed for snoring too loud. Still, every morning they managed to wake up with their legs tangled together.

The following day, the team was set out to help a planet that had been nearly completely destroyed by a Galra attack. It was free of any Galra trace, and after the realization that Violet needed to be socialized, Keith was considering taking her with them.

“You want to take Violet onto the planet?” Shiro questioned. He’d decided to vocalize his suggestion while Violet was playing in another room.

“It’s supposed to be safe, right?” Keith pointed out. It was already going against his better judgement. But he couldn’t keep Violet cooped up in the lion castle for another six years. “I want her to see some of the children. Make friends.”

“These families are hurt, Keith. They’ve been attacked. It might be too much for her.”

“Staying in a bunker until we come back isn’t right. This isn’t a fight, she won’t be in danger. If anything happens, I can get her into the lion to keep her safe.” Keith sighed and looked at Lance. “What do you think?”

Lance bit his lip and shrugged. “I want her to experience things. But this might not be the best way to start.”

“If I may,” Coran said, holding a finger up. “Perhaps you’re underestimating young Violet. She knows that we’re at war, she understands quite a lot for a small mind. Why not warn her, take her, and if it’s upsetting, someone brings her back?”

Lance and Keith shared a look, coming to an agreement before taking a deep breath. “Allura, is there any way we can get armor small enough for her?”

She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” She excused herself and left the group.

Meanwhile, Keith and Lance went to find Violet. When she saw them, she tilted her head and sighed. “Are you leaving again?”

“Not yet,” Keith murmured. “Come here.” She stood and walked over, looking at them with wide, curious eyes. “We were thinking that maybe you might be old enough to come with us.”

“Really?” she gasped. “Do I get my own lion?”

Lance chuckled and shook his head. “No, there’s only five lions. But before we do take you, we want to explain what things you might see.” She frowned. “Some of it is really scary.”

“Like what?”

“Like… someone crying because someone they love got hurt or died.”

“Or some who are very hurt and scared so they might look scary or say things that can scare you.”

Violet frowned and looked down at her hands. “You know how Uncle Shiro has a robot arm?” Keith asked. She nodded. “Well that’s because something happened to his human arm and it was replaced. Sometimes we see things like that too, but we can’t help them replace it.”

“Some of them could be sick.” Lance pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s things that little kids shouldn’t see.”

“I can do it,” she said. She looked up with a look of determination that mirrored the one Keith was known for. Filled with stubborn certainty and defiance. “I’m brave. I can help them too.”

Keith smiled and pushed her hair back. “I thought you’d say something like that.”

“Well, she is your daughter,” Lance said with a smile.

***

The smallest armor was still about two sizes too big for Violet, but she kept assuring everyone that it was fine, that she could walk and see and everything. The castle ship landed on the planet and the paladins exited. Violet stood between her parents, and looked out with wide eyes.

The planet was a murky green color. Its inhabitants were humanoid, with webbed hands and feet, They were dressed in what looked like plants. There were piles of technology that were steaming, broken. The inhabitants, the Malkae, were laying down in rows of mats. Others were walking among them, distributing salves and wraps. Children were in clusters, some crying, some sleeping, some doing nothing.

At the sight of the paladins, many of the Malkae struggled to sit up and look at them, murmuring in a smooth, melodic language. Keith felt a slight pressure against his leg. He looked down and saw Violet looking at a Melkae child with a missing leg and a wrap around their arm. Keith wondered if she wanted to go back, but before he could lean down to ask, she stepped forward and sat on the ground next to the child.

“Do you speak English? Or Spanish? Or Altean?” The child sat up and looked at her. “I’m Violet. Who are you?”

“Noriu,” he murmured. “I speak your tongue.” Violet smiled. “You’re a paladin?”

Violet looked down at her armor and shook her head. “No. But my daddies are.” She pointed back and Keith smiled, looking at Lance for a second. “They said I could come with them to help today. Do you want help?”

Noriu shook his head. “No. I can’t do anything anymore. I don’t have a leg.”

“You can still do lots of things!” she said. She stood up, lifting one leg and hopped around in a circle. “You can jump everywhere and you’ll have the best balance. Or you can cartwheel. Aunt Pidge taught me how, look.” She lunged forward to do a cartwheel, then toppled halfway through when her helmet slid off. She plopped down on the floor and looked at the Melkae child. Then they both burst into laughter, causing many adults to look over.

Lance pressed a hand to Keith’s arm. “Let’s go help others. She’s okay.”

For a while, the paladins went down the rows, helping with healing or feeding or finding supplies. They were scattered, and Violet often drifted to find them, greeting Melkae as she passed with a shy smile. Children began to flock to her, at least those who could move from their places. And Violet seemed excited at the sight of so many children near her age. They began playing a game, holding hands and twirling in a circle, taking turns turning backwards and giggling. Keith smiled and continued to work on a Melkae woman with a severe wound in her middle.

“She’s yours?” the womn whispered hoarsely. Keith nodded with a timid smile. “She looks like you.”

Keith looked over at Violet, the only child without webbed hands, but she didn’t seem fazed at all. She’d helped Noriu hop over to the group and was telling the others to be careful with his arm. Her hair had frizzed out of her braids and half of her armor had fallen off, leaving her in shorts and her favorite shirt. “Ah, she looks more like her Papa. The paladin in blue.” The woman glanced over at Lance and smiled.

“She looks like both of you.” Keith smiled and tried to clean out her wound. “It’s been a long time since I heard children’s laughter.”

“You don’t have children?” Keith asked gently.

She nodded. “I do.” She gestured. “The one with a limp and the one behind her like a shadow.” Keith looked over and saw the children she was referring to. The oldest had a protective stance in front of the youngest. The youngest looked like a toddler.

“Can I ask you something? As a parent?” She nodded and winced slightly as Keith began bandaging her. “Sorry. Um…. When we had Violet, it was… unexpected. And now that I have her, I love her more than anything. I have no doubt that I would do anything for her. But when I look at the devastation, the length of this war… I wonder…. Sometimes, I think….” Keith sighed and shut his eyes. He looked at Violet and furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not sure if I did the right thing bringing her into a place filled with violence and war and loneliness. And when I think that… I feel horrible, like-”

The woman put a hand on his and gave him a strained smile, softened by her luminescent eyes. “You can’t shield children from everything. You didn’t do a bad thing by giving her life. You did something… wonderful. For you, for those around you. Look.” Keith looked at where she pointed. Violet was sitting with the children in front of a Melkae who was animatedly performing tricks for them. “She’s brought joy to Melkae who haven’t smiled in deca-phoebs. She’s given you reason to fight. Reason to be strong. She’s given you strength.”

Keith looked at his daughter and thought back to the day he’d found out he was pregnant. How appalled he was, how terrified, how angry he’d felt. He remembered the day he felt her kick, the day she was born and the day she called for him for the first time. How every single one of those moments gave him a break from the terror of war and made every fight worth it. He had been reckless before, quick to act and attack. Now, he was smarter. He had a reason to stay alive, to get back in one piece. He’d felt love in ways he’d never thought possible with Lance and his space family and of course Violet. All that love had given him strength and reason to not give up in this fight.

“I was afraid when I knew I’d have another child. She’s only two deca-phoebs. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to protect her. If I could protect them both.” Keith looked over at the children and saw that Violet was next to Hunk as he worked on making a make-shift crutch for one of the elderly Melkae. When he was done, he handed it to Violet who raced to give it to the one who needed it and smiled brightly, speaking what must have been encouragements. He looked at the other children and saw the two that belonged to the woman together, the small one clinging to the older one’s back like a koala. “But now, I know they protect each other. They have each other. They can play together when they’re scared, and they give me hope. And even if something happens to me, I know they’ll have each other.” Keith bit his lip and looked at the children. “Children bring hope for peace in the future, paladin. Perhaps your daughter will be the one who finds an end to this war. Or perhaps she’ll pave the way for it. Don’t feel guilty for not being able to control what happens in the universe.”

Keith looked back at her and nodded. “Thank you. You should rest. Your wound will take time to heal.” He stood and smiled before leaving her to tend to others.

When the light of day was fading, the paladins began making in large portions to distribute among the Melkae. Violet was walking with a smaller child and Noriu, talking and laughing. When most of the rubble had been cleared and the food distributed, Lance went to get Violet so the team could get back to the castle.

The entire day, Keith had been thinking about what the Melkae woman said. He hadn’t known her name, but what she’d said soothed him. He felt calmer somehow.

When they put her to bed, Lance kissed her forehead and smiled. “You did really good today, pequena. Made a lot of them smile.”

Violet smiled. “I made friends. I hope I see them again.” She looked down, and Keith tried not to show shock at her words. “Goodnight, Papi. Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, buttercup. I love you.” They shut the door to the room and walked back to the room. Lance took Keith’s hand, the silence settling comfortably. They often needed that after long days like the one they’d had. When they got to their room and settled in for bed, Keith stared at the ceiling.

Lance’s hand slipped into his. “You okay, mi amor?” Keith nodded slowly. “What are you thinking?”

Keith took a deep breath and squinted at the ceiling. His thoughts raced, making calculations, plans, moral decisions in the span of five long ticks. “I’m thinking…. I want another baby.”

Lance sat up in bed, gasping a “What?” so loud he started choking on air. Keith sat up in shock and leaned over him, waiting on him to catch his breath. Lance finally relaxed and took a breath. “Are… are you serious? What about… everything you said before? How much danger and-”

“I know,” Keith said. “But really…. Danger is everywhere, and we can only protect Violet so much. I do want another kid, Lance. I wouldn’t even hesitate if we weren’t paladins because being a dad… feels great. I thought being a pilot was all I could ever want, but… I was wrong. And I was only scared because I didn’t know what that meant for everything, but you’re right, we can plan, we know what to expect. Violet can have the sibling she wants just like she would if things were normal. And it wouldn’t be a solution to a problem, it’d be… an additional thing to give us strength and hope.” Lance put a hand against his cheek and furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Are you sure about this? About having another?” Keith nodded slowly. “A hundred percent? A hundred and twenty percent?”

“Yes, Lance,” Keith chuckled. “I mean it. I want to.”

“Well then, we’d better get started!” Lance tackled Keith onto the bed and kissed him, with Keith laughing against his mouth, teasing insults swallowed by Lance’s lips.

Before Keith could even stop laughing, they heard a knock. Keith stood and let the door slide open, revealing Violet with a stuffed purple lion Allura had found for her. She looked nervous. “Can I sleep with you?” she whispered.

“What’s wrong, buttercup? We just put you to bed.” Violet hesitated, and when Keith knelt down to be at eye-level with her, he saw her tears brimming in her eyes. “Violet?”

She sniffed and looked at him. “I’m just sad,” she whimpered. “I made friends, and I might not see them, and so many people were sad and I don’t want them to get sad again, and I know I’m supposed to be brave so I can go with you but I can’t help it, Daddy.” Keith felt his heart break in two and he pulled her into his arms, shushing her gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, shh.” He lifted her and took her to the bed, where Lance scooted over to make room for her, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t cry. And just because you cry, that doesn’t mean we won’t take you again. You did a good job out there today.” Keith ran his hand through her curls and laid beside her. “It’s okay to be sad. I know it’s scary. And you’re just a little girl.”

Lance wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close. “We’re very proud of you, you know?” he whispered to her. Violet wiped her eyes and hugged her lion closer. “You can cry if you want. You might feel better. And we’ll have you in a Papa Sandwich.” Lance threw his arms over her and onto Keith. Keith mirrored it, encasing their daughter between them. She laughed, and then her laughter turned into soft, shaky cries.

It hurt Keith’s heart to listen to her cries, but Lance was right. Maybe she needed to be able to cry instead of pushing it down. Hadn’t he learned that the hard way? Violet remained between her parents, hugging her stuffed lion tightly with one hand, the other holding onto her fathers’ arms. She shook slightly, crying softly. Then Keith heard Lance’s voice begin to sing a lullaby softly, raspy, and tired, but soothing and melodious. It was the lullaby he would sing to her when Keith was pregnant and for the first year when he put her to sleep.

Before long, all three of them were asleep.

***

It was their fifth anniversary. Lance had managed to get Hunk and Pidge to watch Violet for the night so he could celebrate with Keith. There wasn’t much to do to celebrate in space, but Lance knew that Keith liked to look out at the stars from the highest peak of the castle. And he took him there each year.

Keith loved being able to feel safe and calm for those moments when he could feel Lance’s presence beside him and had an endless expanse of stars and galaxies to mesmerize him. He intertwined his hand in Lance’s and sighed. “I love you,” he whispered.

Lance leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you too.”

Keith looked at him and smiled, wondering how he could feel so at peace with Lance. There was a time when being near him and feeling his blue-eyed gaze on him caused a million butterflies in his stomach and made him blush. That was gone. But it wasn’t a bad thing like Keith thought it would be. Instead, those jitters had been replaced by a level of peace and comfort Keith hadn’t known before. Lance was like an extension of him. Being near him felt like the only right thing in the universe.

“You know, I miss my family a lot. My home. I miss a lot of stuff from Earth. But after all this time…. It feels like I found a home in you,” Lance murmured, caressing Keith’s cheek. Keith leaned into his hand and kept his eyes on Lance. Home. That was the word. He felt like home. “We made our own family.”

Keith smiled and pressed his forehead against his. “You gave me a family,” he whispered. He leaned in and kissed him lightly.

Lance hummed and pulled Keith onto him as he laid back. “I can give you something else too, if you want,” he smirked.

Keith groaned and pulled himself up. He glared at Lance who was looking at him smugly as his hands ran up Keith’s sides. “God, you’re lucky you’re cute,” Keith grumbled, leaning down to kiss him. Lance chuckled and tangled his fingers in Keith’s hair.

Amidst soft laughter, gentle murmurs, and sweet nothings, clothes were discarded and Lance was touching Keith in ways that made him squirm and gasp and moan. He never did know what changes his body made. He never wanted to know, he just knew Lance didn’t mind and liked to make him feel good through said changes. But ever since Violet, Keith hadn’t let Lance top again, for fear of another pregnancy and lack of contraceptives.

Now, he was suddenly remembering how mush-brained he’d been those first few times. His toes curled and they were only beginning. Lance liked to be slow about their lovemaking, admiring and kissing and marking every part of Keith he could before really getting anywhere. Long, warm fingers traced over his skin in feather-light touches, his lips planted wet kisses over his stomach and shoulders. Lance lifted himself up, looking Keith in his eyes as he pushed in. He watched as Keith’s mouth fell open, his eyes rolled back, and his eyebrows furrowed. He lifted his head like a reflex before letting it fall back and letting out soft whimpers.

“You okay?” Lance whispered.

Keith nodded and moaned, gripping his arms. “Forgot… how good… a-ah.” Lance smiled and leaned down to kiss his neck, thrusting in and out slowly, drawing out beautiful sounds from Keith. Before long, Keith was pushing his heels into Lance’s back, whining softly. “More,” he breathed. “Harder. Faster.” Lance nodded, kissing him desperately as he complied. Keith bite onto his lip, gasping for air as Lance made his body spark with need and want and fire.

He wrapped his arms around Lance’s shoulders, holding onto him as Lance pushed into him, rocking their bodies. With each thrust, a small moaning mewl escaped Keith’s lips and a low, husky grunt escaped Lance’s. Keith slid one hand to Lance’s cheek and looked at his face. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed before a gasping moan slipped through.

“Keith,” Lance breathed. “I’m… I’m close.” Keith nodded and pulled him closer, using his feet to push Lance’s body into him. Lance grunted and gasped for breath, and Keith felt him finish in him, felt the warmth filling him and heard it as Lance continued through it. Lance’s hand slipped down and Keith arched his back, losing focus for a moment as Lance touched him. Lance pulled out and scrambled down, tongue licking upwards and it was that which sent Keith over the edge with a muffled yelp. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary,” Keith murmured, shutting his eyes tiredly, hands roaming Lance’s warm body. He kissed his sweaty forehead and looked at the expanse of stars again, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.

“Unless we want someone to find us up here, we should get dressed and go back to our room,” Lance whispered, running his lips back and forth along his jaw. “We can go again.” He kissed the spot under his ear. “And again.” He kissed the sharp curve of his jawbone. “And again.” He kissed his neck. Keith sighed and ran his hand through Lance’s soft curls.

He smiled as Lance’s tongue swirled against his neck. “It’s hard to think that there was a time we weren’t this in love. This inseparable.”

“That we were rivals?”

Keith scoffed and looked at Lance, running his hand along the stubble on his cheek. “We were never rivals,” he whispered. “You put that in your own head. I teased you because you teased me. You seemed to love upsetting me.” Lance snorted and intertwined their hands. “I love you.”

“Te amo con todo mi corazón, mi vida.” Keith smiled at the Spanish he’d slowly begun to understand.

That night, between sleepy murmurs and tired laughter and lazy kisses, their room had been filled with sounds of love and want and desire. Even after five years of marriage, everything always felt new and beautiful.

***

Two months had passed. Violet was almost seven. Keith didn’t feel any nausea or feel any different. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to know whether he was pregnant or not. He wasn’t sure how to know when he could.

“Are you okay?” Hunk asked Keith one day while they were training. Hunk had gotten significantly better over the years and provided a challenge for Keith because he was stronger while Keith was lither. Keith grunted and kept fighting. Hunk gripped the staff he was using and yanked it away. “I’m serious dude. You’ve been acting weird.”

“I’m fine,” he breathed. “Really. Nothing different.” Nothing at all. Hunk looked at him with wide brown eyes, expectant and waiting. Keith sighed and took his staff back, leaning against it. “We’re trying to get pregnant and… it’s not working so I’m a little stressed.”

Hunk blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Um…. Wait, really?” Keith nodded. “I mean… that’s great, you know, but… why? I mean with how much you worry about Violet and the fighting and-”

“I know,” he nodded. “I do want another. I love being a dad. And I was scared about all of that but then…. I don’t know it just… seems right. Violet would have someone to grow with, we-I would have more reason to fight, more reason to be happy, and hopeful. And Violet really wants a sibling. I saw how she was with the Melkae children. She’d be such a good sister.”

Hunk smiled and nodded. “Well if it’s what you both really want. Maybe Pidge or Allura can look into the biology more and help you out.” Keith bit his lip and nodded. “Come on, buddy.” He put a hand on his shoulder and took him out of the training room.

Later, Keith found himself in the lab again while Pidge researched and Allura looked back at the records from when Keith had been pregnant with Violet. He felt self-conscious sitting there with EKG stickers on his abdomen.

“There aren’t any signs of a current pregnancy,” Hunk murmured, looking at the screen, unconsciously piling the scattered notes Pidge was making. Keith clenched his jaw and tried not to show that the words didn’t bother him.

Something about it hurt. What if he could only have one child? What if something was wrong with him and he couldn’t have another? Keith felt his throat close up and he looked down at the stickers and wires on his stomach.

“How long did you say you’ve been trying?” Pidge asked, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. She liked keeping it short, but it was longer than it was when they first met.

“About two months. I got nausea after two weeks with Violet, which is the only reason I know it’s not working.” He sighed and scratched his neck. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t want a kid when I got pregnant. Now that I want one, I c-can’t-” He shut his eyes and swallowed hard.

Pidge took his hand and squeezed. “Relax. Your body is obviously still capable. We just have to figure out the Galra pattern. It’s obviously not the same as a human’s.” Pidge bit down on her pencil moved next to Hunk to look over all the notes. They talked softly, consulting in voices Keith couldn’t hear.

Allura walked over to him. “Look what I found,” she said, holding a few papers. She handed them to him and leaned against the cot.

Keith looked at the papers and smiled to himself. “They’re like ultrasound pictures,” he whispered. He looked at the first scan he’d ever had during his pregnancy. The one that had sent him into panicked hysterics. He flipped through the pictures, watching as his daughter grew and grew and grew. And then there was a picture of the day she was born. Small, fragile, bundled in a blanket. “Wow. We were just kids,” he murmured, looking at his and Lance’s faces. Free of facial hair, with the smooth edges of youth, free of battle scars.

“You never told me what changed your mind in the beginning.” Keith hummed and gave Allura a questioning look. “About Violet. You seemed… so certain you didn’t want to go through with it, and then suddenly you did.”

“Oh,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Well…. A lot of things, I guess. I was scared because I was embarrassed. I’m a guy, and I was young. It felt vulnerable and I didn’t think I could do it. I thought I’d be a horrible dad, and… honestly part of me thought Lance would go away one day. Everyone always did before.” He looked down at the picture of him holding his newborn daughter with Lance leaning over him, giving him a fond look. “Once I woke up to Lance talking to my stomach. He was talking quietly, I guess to not wake me up. Something about the way he talked to her… with so much hope and happiness…. He had so much faith that everything would be okay. And he called her our baby. I guess that’s when it became tangible for me. She would always be something that united us. I was still scared, but… not for me anymore, you know?” He looked up at Allura and chuckled. “I’m so happy I didn’t make that decision. My little girl….” He chuckled and thought back fondly of those first few months when he was able to hold her in his arms. “I love her so much. It’s a level of love I didn’t think possible. Endless, limitless. Infinite.” Allura smiled and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulders.

Pidge returned to Keith, her hair unruly, half out of her ponytail like she’d run her hands through it way too many times. “There’s not enough on Galra. A lot of records are gone, and it’s hard to have a big enough sample to average out the time of ovulation, so to speak. It’s not necessarily the same thing for Galra, much less the males, plus you’re only part Galra. There’s too many factors and too many blanks for us to even get a guess on how it works. We’ll keep searching, but right now my only suggestion is to keep trying and we’ll keep scanning and testing you.”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows and shut his eyes. “What we can say,” Hunk added, “is that you’re definitely able to still. There’s nothing in your body that’s prohibiting you from being able to bear a child again.”

He nodded and removed the stickers on his stomach, put his shirt back on, and smiled at his friends. “Thanks for this, guys. I appreciate it. Allura, could you keep these safe for me?” He handed the pictures back to Allura and left the room.

He returned to his own and found Lance and Violet on the floor, Violet in his lap as he played a game on the phone Pidge had made him so he would stop stealing hers. He looked up when Keith came in and smiled. “Hey, baby. Where’ve you been?”

“Lab. Researching. How long have you been playing?” Violet peeked up at Lance and Lance looked down at Violet. “That look tells me the answer is something like, ‘too long.’”

“Daddy, can we go to the training room again?” Violet asked, scrambling off of Lance. “I want Papi to see me fight the robots.”

“You hurt your hand the last time we used the robots.”

“But I didn’t cry,” she said. She looked at him pleadingly, batting her lashes, her large purple eyes looking like something out of a cartoon. “Ple-ease?”

Keith sighed and smiled at her, nodding. He was weak for puppy-dog faces, and both his husband and his daughter loved exploiting that. Violet cheered and hauled Lance up, dragging them both out the door and to the training room.

A while back, with Pidge’s help, Keith made a special training sequence level for Violet that would be simple for her age. They moved slower, attacked with simple taps instead full-blown hits, and Pidge had managed to make the system call out encouragements as well. She’d only hurt her hand because she gripped her staff wrong and hit the metal. She’d yelped and dropped her staff, gritting her teeth. But she hadn’t cried. Keith really did have a habit of underestimating her.

“Papi, you have to watch me the whole time,” she insisted. Lance chuckled and sat on the floor. Keith sat beside him and nodded at Violet, who stepped out to the center of the mat. “Begin training sequence CS1!”

“CS1?” Lance whispered.

“Child-safety level one,” Keith answered. Lance nodded and smiled.

The robots started for her at a walking pace. Above them, a robotic voice said, “Get ready. Keep your stance. Stay focused. You’ve got this.”

Violet’s eyes narrowed, and she used her staff to sweep the legs out from under one robot, ran across the room to another, knocking its weapon- which only shot out beams of light, not actual lasers- out of its hand and shoving it back with one end. Lance whistled and nudged Keith gently. “She reminds me of you when you train.” Keith smiled and watched as Violet ran to each slow-moving robot, moving with her staff like he’d taught her.

“End of training sequence CS1. Great job!” the voice above complimented.

Violet scampered over to her parents and smiled proudly. “That was awesome, princesita! You did great!” Violet smiled wider, blushing slightly. “You know what you showed those robots?”

Then she lifted one hand over her head the other across her chest, and wiggled her fingers. “Razzle-dazzle!” Keith nearly choked.

Lance whooped and pulled her into a hug. “That’s my girl!”

Keith groaned and hid his face. “You showed her that?” Lance grinned and planted a kiss on her cheek as she laughed. Keith really did love his curly haired dorks.

***

Lance was optimistic. He kept assuring Keith that they’d get pregnant, and they just had to keep trying. Keith was slowly losing his hope. He was starting to come to terms with the idea of Violet being his only child, of not being able to give her siblings. But it’d been another three months, and Violet was going to turn seven in three weeks.

The most painful part was that every night for the last month, Keith would find himself crying into his pillow because all of their attempts were futile. At those moments, Lance always snaked his arm around him and pulled him against his chest, humming softly in his ear. Sex wasn’t the same simply because they both knew that Keith didn’t believe it would work. And despite Lance’s gentle reassurances, Keith still cried and seemed more aware of his empty abdomen.

Research had gotten nowhere. And Keith found himself in the lab every week or so. Lately though, he felt more like he was just counting down the minutes before he could leave, take a nap, then wake up pretending nothing was wrong. He’d began taking each mission instead of switching out with Shiro, using his frustration in his fighting. The others were aware, but none of them said anything.

It was late, and Keith couldn’t sleep. Lance was snoring beside him, and Keith felt particularly shitty. Lance had tried to make him feel better that evening and all Keith had done was snap at him and push him away. Then they’d both gone through the motions of sex if only to say they were still trying, but it left them both feeling hurt more than anything. He knew this was taking a toll on Lance too. He knew Lance’s hopes were getting crushed each time that monitor showed nothing new. He knew Lance wanted another kid just as much as Keith did.

Keith turned his head and looked at Lance. He’d shaved that day, so he looked younger. Keith reached out and touched a scar that ran down the side of Lance’s right eyebrow to just below his cheekbone. He touched the pale scar under his jaw where he’d dealt with a knife at his throat. Keith remembered feeling so full of rage and fear, it had taken everything in him not to act on impulse and put everyone in danger.

He let out a shaky breath and leaned forward, kissing his husband gently. His lips were unresponsive, but Keith kissed him harder, pulling him in. Lance grunted and Keith moved to his neck, whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Slowly, Lance woke up and with a raspy, confused voice he asked, “Keith, what? What’s wrong?”

Keith shook his head and kissed his lips again. “Nothing. I love you. I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish.” Lance looked at him with his brilliantly blue eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not angry with you, but I act like I am, and I’m….” Keith sighed and kissed him lightly again.

“Oh, mi amor. I know you’re not. It’s okay.” Keith shook his head, but Lance stopped him with another kiss, this one longer, sweeter, deeper.

Keith found himself climbing onto Lance, moaning against his mouth. Before he knew it, their clothes were off and he was gasping against Lance’s ear with his arms wrapped over his shoulders as he lifted and lowered his hips onto Lance. This time it wasn’t like before. It wasn’t filled with frustration and half-hearted kisses. It was warm again. It was tender and sweet and wonderful and Keith wanted nothing more than to stay where he was, feeling like his heart would burst with the amount of love he felt for Lance.

Lance’s arms were wrapped around Keith’s middle, supporting him as he bit and sucked at his neck. Keith pulled back and rested his forehead against Lance’s as he moved, their eyes half-lidded and filled with adoration, their breaths warm against the other’s face. Lance leaned into him to plant soft, light kisses on his parted lips a few times before their movements became more erratic, and their breaths lost their rhythm. Lance thrust up with each time Keith let himself push down, and it took sloppy kisses to muffle their moans and groans. Lance moved one hand to wrap around Keith and began to pump, making Keith throw his head back. Suddenly his body felt like every nerve ending was bursting with fireworks and Lance was still pushing into him, kissing him, loving him. Keith whimpered and curled his toes so hard it hurt, but he didn’t care because everything else felt so good.

He felt warmth filling him and Lance’s open mouth was pressed into his collarbone, his breaths quick and shallow against his skin.

“I love you,” Keith breathed, his voice shaking and broken as he searched blindly for Lance’s lips, too tired to open his eyes.

Lance snuggled into his neck and laid Keith down before kissing him and pulling him up against his chest. “I love you more than you can imagine.” Keith smiled and fell asleep without crying.

Three days later, Keith was back in the lab, feeling annoyed but not quite so upset. As the tests were taken, Lance was beside him fidgeting. Allura sighed and shook her head. Then Lance blurted, “What if it’s me?”

Allura and Keith looked at him. “What?”

Lance gulped and bit his lip. “I mean… you keep looking to see if Keith’s body is okay, but…. What if it’s something wrong with me? What if it’s my fault we can’t get pregnant again?” Keith’s lips parted in shock as he registered what Lance was saying. He looked at Allura and saw that she was slowly realizing it was in fact a possibility.

“I supposed we can run some tests on you as well,” she said. “I’m not sure how long the results will take though.”

Lance nodded and kissed Keith’s cheek. “Go back to Violet. I’ll get back to you soon.” Keith nodded, and left, feeling like he wasn’t in his own body. An indefinite amount of time later, Lance returned and took Keith’s hand wordlessly as they settled for lunch. Keith looked at him questioningly, but Lance just squeezed his hands.

Later, when Keith was able to get Lance alone, he searched his eyes, looking for some sign of what his results were. “What happened?” he asked gently.

Lance shook his head. “Nothing yet. Allura said she was going to run a bunch of tests on my blood and well, my semen.” He blushed and rubbed his face. “If it’s me…. God, Keith, I’m so sorry.”

Keith pulled his hands away and kissed the knuckles. “Shh. Don’t do that,” he whispered. He looked him in the eyes and caressed his cheek. “You need to know that no matter what, I won’t blame you or hate you. We already have a beautiful little girl and when I married you, I promised to love you no matter what. If we can’t have another baby, that’s okay. I already have so much more than I deserve with you and Violet in my life.” He kissed him and smiled, wiping away a tear that had slid down Lance’s cheek. “It’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. I love you.” Lance nodded and leaned into him, fighting the guilt that threatened to choke him.

***

A week later, they were back in the lab. Keith was gripping Lance’s hand tightly hoping to reassure him that everything would be absolutely fine. Allura was finishing up her scans and putting together her results for them both. She looked confused, and it wasn’t helping either of their nerves.

She cleared her throat and looked at them. “Um… I’m not sure how you’ll take this,” she said slowly.

Keith felt his breath catch and Lance was shaking beside him. “What is it?” he asked, his voice stronger than he thought it would be. “If we can’t, then just-”

“It’s not that,” Allura interrupted. She furrowed her eyebrows and turned the monitor. Keith stared at it and frowned, trying to understand. It looked different and familiar but strange. He looked at Allura, waiting for an explanation. She chuckled nervously and pointed. “It looks like you’re expecting two children this time.”

Keith felt every ounce of air leave him at once. Lance froze completely beside him. “T-twins?” he asked. “I’m having twins?” Allura nodded slowly and Keith covered his mouth. It seemed like there was always a surprise.