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finalfantasyandnerdiness · 4 years

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da capo al fine

For eternal beings, the ebbs and flows of time mean very little. Whatever happens, the world will keep moving forward, and so will they. No end. No beginning. For a human, though? Every second counts.

Every word.

Every decision.

A mortal with the power to turn back time is a fearsome creature, because a mortal cares – and if they decide that they’re going to find a timeline where everyone they love survives, they will do whatever it takes to make it happen. Even if it means abusing a power that was never meant to be theirs.

A Fire Emblem Three Houses retelling where everybody lives, basically. Also: Dimileth.

Read on Ao3

Every word.

Every decision.

“You. How long do you intend to sleep?”

Byleth opens her eyes. A young girl she vaguely recognizes stares down at her from a throne of stone. Her eyes, as eerily green as her hair, are expectant and clearly annoyed.

Where am I? Byleth shakes her head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs clouding her mind. Who am I?

“Get on your feet. Right now!” the girl snaps. “You are just like a child, always needing me to hold your hand…” She sighs. “This is the last time, you hear me? No more restarts. This is it.”

Byleth has no idea what any of it means, but she still nods.

The girl’s face softens. “Make it count.”

The first seconds are always the worst. Byleth never gets used to those terrifying moments where her entire being is a blank slate. She knows she’s supposed to recognize the bearded man in front of her, but he could just as well have been a complete stranger. Then, it clicks. Everything falls into place. He’s her father. She’s a mercenary. And, most importantly, she’s been here before.

Even though most of Byleth’s memories are blurry, the ones about the three heirs are always crystal clear. One look is all it takes to remember their tragic fates. Blue eyes, full of barely restrained hatred. Green eyes, sharp as a blade. Violet eyes, burning with determination. Three young rulers, destined to tear each other apart.

Not this time. Byleth looks at them, one by one, treasuring the innocence they will all inevitably lose. She’s lived through this chain of events more times than she can remember, getting closer and closer to her goal just to see a seemingly insignificant detail turn her dream to dust. Not this time, though. Sothis has given her one last chance, and she won’t let it go to waste.

This time, they will all live.

To the boys’ obvious disappointment, Byleth chooses to join the house of the Black Eagles. The three heirs are all suspicious by nature, but Edelgard easily takes the crown. Edelgard trusts no one but herself, which isn’t that surprising considering her only experience with friendship comes from a man who can’t get through a single sentence without mentioning blood. She’s hidden her heart away behind walls as impenetrable as her armor, doing her best to smother the fear and loneliness that lures within her. To bring the true Edelgard out of her shell takes time. Lots, and lots of time. So Byleth picks the Black Eagles, and tries not to notice the flash of darkness in Dimtri’s eyes.

Dimitri is young. So very young. He’s yet to grow into the inhuman strength he’ll one day wield with ease, still grinning awkwardly every time he accidentally breaks another training sword. He’s a prince, charming and polite, the definition of picture perfect. No one has any idea what hides behind that flawless smile.

Yet.

Byleth sees the way he looks at her, how his gaze lingers when she swings her blade on the training grounds. Their eyes meet. Her body instinctively reacts, but she forces herself to ignore it. Chronologically, he’s only three years younger than her, but he’s still a kid. Her conflicted heart, however, still remembers the king.

Her life would have been so much easier if she hadn’t fallen in love with him all those lifetimes ago. He forgets. She doesn’t.

Before Garreg Mach, Byleth used to think of herself as a fairly unemotional person. People called her the Ashen Demon for a reason. She didn’t really get people, and people didn’t really get her either. Then, she met her students, and everything changed. Now, she cares a lot, and it’s more tiring than she ever could have imagined.

“There we go again,” she mutters to herself as she watches Raphael and Caspar race through the courtyard, up to goddess knows what. She loves them both with all her heart, but critical thinking is not one of their virtues. To be frank, neither is thinking, period. She sighs and hurries after them. She has no idea what they’re going to break this time—a plate, a nose, a window—but they’re definitely breaking something.

Byleth has just left her private quarters to head to class when she nearly crashes into Seteth.

“Professor. There’s an… issue, we need to talk about.”

Of course there is. She sighs internally. Sometimes, she wishes she could just skip past certain conversations. She’s gone through this particular one so many times by now that she practically knows every line by heart.

Seteth clears his throat. “Due to your unexpectedly extraordinary tutoring skills, nearly all of this year’s students have requested to transfer to your class. While the feat in itself is admirable, it has led to some unfortunate consequences. Hanneman and Manuela now only share four students between them, and I’ve heard that your classroom is running out of desks. It’s not a very efficient way to run a school.”

“I agree.”

Seteth blinks in surprise. “You do?”

She nods. “I’ve given it some thought, and I think the best solution would be to separate the professors from their assigned houses.”

“That’s a preposterous—”

“The houses themselves would remain, of course,” she quickly adds. “I only propose that we rethink the way we hold our classes. The three of us have different areas of expertise, and we could use that to our advantage if we split up the classes by subject instead of houses.”

“I see.” Seteth hesitates, furrowing his brow. “It’s an unorthodox idea, but… I do see the benefits of your proposal. It could be… efficient. I will get back to you once I have discussed this with Rhea.”

Byleth nods again. Rhea will, albeit reluctantly, say yes, because when Seteth finds something that can be described as efficient, he will make it happen. The classes will be split up between the three professors, and Byleth will get the chance to tutor all the students – including those stubborn last four.

She’s not losing them again.

At the night of the ball, Byleth makes sure that it’s the students of the Blue Lions house who make the promise to reunite in five years. Their carefree laughter makes her stomach turn. They have no idea what fate she’s just bound them to.

Dimitri’s smile hurts the most, but she goes through with it anyway. She needs him to be there when she wakes up.

Even though Byleth knows it’s hopeless, she still always tries to save Jeralt.

Losing him never stops hurting.

“Thanks for letting me borrow your old man’s diary, Teach,” Claude says.

Byleth snatches the notebook out of his hands. “You would have stolen it anyway if I’d said no.”

“Me? Stealing?” He grins, placing a hand on his chest. “Your lack of faith in my moral compass wounds me.”

Byleth raises her eyebrows.

Claude sighs, his façade flickering. “All joking aside, I have to admit that some of the stuff in there is pretty hard to swallow – especially the parts about you. I’ve got so many questions, and I doubt you’ll ever answer a single one of them.” His eyes twinkle. “You sure know how to drive a guy crazy, Teach.”

Byleth shrugs. His obvious frustration doesn’t bother her – not anymore. He’ll eventually figure everything out anyway, with or without her answers. He just doesn’t know it yet.

She loves all her students. She really does. But sometimes, she can’t help but think that if Ferdinand yells out his name one more time, she’s going to strangle him.

“It’s not my place to question your way of tutoring, but I do feel the need ask you about the attendance record of one of your students,” Seteth says. “Linhardt von Hevring has been absent from nearly half of your classes this month, and I’ve noticed a lack of disciplinary actions. I would recommend stable duty or—”

“He’s doing important research,” Byleth interrupts. “As long as he keeps passing his tests, I don’t see any reason not to encourage it.”

“Well… I suppose I will have to trust your judgment, Professor.” Judging by his frown, he’s clearly not trusting it at all.

Byleth nods. She doesn’t blame Seteth for being skeptical. She would probably have doubted Linhardt too if she hadn’t known just how important that research would be to give some of her students a chance to grow old.

While the inferno of hatred that sometimes flares up in Dimitri’s eyes is undeniably terrifying, it doesn’t scare Byleth nearly as much as the cold apathy in Rhea’s.

A high-pitched shriek echoes over the monastery. People start looking for its source with obvious concern, but Byleth just smiles a little to herself. The boys of the Black Eagles house always figure out sooner or later that the only way to get Bernie out of her comfort zone is to literally carry her out of it.

Every now and then, Byleth slips. She tries to keep everything in the right order, to remember what she’s supposed to know and what’s yet to be revealed, but her memory is far from infallible. Most of the time, no one mentions her little accidents. She’s a strategist, after all. Predicting things is a part of her job description. Some slips, though, are too obvious to go unnoticed.

“Professor… Did you just call me El?”

Byleth groans internally. Yes, she most certainly did. It’s late, she’s tired, and she just casually used a nickname the heiress would never, ever, share with a professor she barely knows.

“No one has called me that since I was a kid. Those who once did are long gone.” Edelgard’s eyes narrow. “How did you know?”

“My apologies,” Byleth says. “I just thought it suited you. I won’t use it again.”

“No… I quite like it.” While the suspicion still lingers in Edelgard’s gaze, a small smile graces her lips. “Please, keep calling me El. I’m not sure why, but I enjoyed hearing you say it.”

Byleth nods. “If that’s the case, I will.”

“Good.” A hint of shyness sweeps over the future emperor’s face. “Thank you, my teacher. It may not seem like much, but it means a lot to me.”

The next time Byleth uses that name, it’s not by accident.

Felix’ digs at Dimitri are as sharp as his blade, and so is the resentment in eyes. Dimitri takes the insults without blinking. Their friendship is laced with a burning hatred they both believe is justified. It’s painful to watch, especially considering how easily the swordsman would give his life to protect his childhood friend. He never hesitates. Not even once.

“You fool! What were you thinking, charging right into an enemy’s trap? Again?” Sothis’ sharp voice echoes against the stone walls. “Are you just a boulder rolling down whatever hill it’s on? No, even a boulder has more sense!”

Byleth lowers her eyes. Her least favorite part of the cycles may be the first awakening, but this is the one Sothis dreads the most. Not surprising, considering that this is where the goddess has to disappear. It’s inevitable, though, even if she doesn’t run head first into Solon’s spell. Sooner or later they always end up here, facing the same decision over and over again. Sothis always makes the same choice.

“Thank you,” Byleth whispers. “For everything.”

Byleth reaches out her hand, and the power of the goddess seeps into her soul.

Callused hands gently stroke her bangs out of her face. Her consciousness is fading, but she doesn’t need to see to know whose hand it is. She would recognize that touch anywhere.

“Sorry, Professor,” Dimitri says. “I have no choice but to carry you back.”

Byleth raises her eyebrows as Sylvain limps into the training grounds. “Ingrid?”

“Yes.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

“Did you deserve it?”

After a moment of hesitation, he sighs. “Yes.”

The sight of Edelgard’s coronation is as breathtaking as it is terrifying. The ceremony marks the beginning of a nationwide bloodbath, but Byleth still can’t look away from the blinding beauty that is Emperor Edelgard with a golden crown on her head.

A cacophony of rattling armor and frantic prayers fills the monastery. The moment Byleth hoped to avoid is once again taking place before her eyes. She leans against the railing of the third floor balcony. In the distance she sees Edelgard’s army gathering, preparing for the first battle of the war that will tear Fódlan apart.

It can’t be stopped now. It’s too late. Byleth’s time ran out the moment Edelgard’s betrayal set Dimitri’s dormant fury aflame. The war is happening. Her only option now is damage control.

“Hey, Teach.”

Byleth flinches. Even after countless cycles of nearly identical events, she’s still caught off guard every now and then – especially when Claude is involved. He’s turned unpredictability into an artform.

Claude moves to her side. His calculating eyes roam over the area below. His expression and posture radiate confidence, but his desperate grip on the railing has already turned his knuckles white.

“It can’t be stopped now,” he says, echoing Byleth’s thoughts. “Neither of those two will ever allow the other to live. There’s going to be a war, and it’s not going to be pretty.”

“So much death.” Byleth’s voice cracks. She’s seen it happen before, and now she’s going to have to see it again. She knew, but she still couldn’t stop it.

“You don’t have to go down with them, you know.” Claude sends her a quick glance before turning back to the soon-to-be battlefield. “This is their feud, not yours. I mean, just consider it. Someone’s got to protect the people in this mess, and that someone could definitely use that strategic brain of yours.”

“And in this scenario, that ‘someone’ is you?”

“If the shoe fits.” Claude shrugs. “I don’t care about who wins this war. I have a vision, and that vision would be pretty useless if there was no one left in Fódlan to see it. What do you say? Have I won you over yet?” A grin tugs at his lips. “You’d make a good Deer.”

She would.

She has.

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” He tilts his head to the side. “Too fond of the kinglinesses, eh?”

She hesitates for a moment before deciding to, for once, tell the truth. “You’ll survive this war, with or without my guidance. You don’t need me. Not like they do.”

“Careful there, Teach. You’re starting to sound like you can predict the future.” His gaze sharpens. “Did you know that the Battle of the Eagle and Lion still keeps me up at night? I go over every move I made, every detail of my strategy, and how you managed to see through it all. It’s been driving me crazy – crazy enough to consider the possibility of you being some kind of mind reader. But that’s not it, is it?” He gives her a dangerous grin that almost reaches his eyes. “Come on, Teach, give a curious guy some peace of mind. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“If I told you, you’d never let me go.”

Her words clearly catch Claude off guard, which is a sight very few ever get to witness. For a moment he looks like he’s going to jokingly deny her claim, but in the end he just sighs. “I’d use you.”

She nodded. “And you’d end up hating yourself for it.”

“Fair enough.”

Claude studies her face, the cogs of his brilliant mind turning. His charming trickster façade flickers, revealing a taste of the unstoppable man he will one day become. “Let’s say you’re right, Teach. Maybe I don’t need you by my side to make my vision come true. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you there.”

Memories of wild wyvern rides, uncontrollable laughter, and pearls of sweat on copper skin flashes before her eyes. Heat rushes to her cheeks. He blinks.

“Oh, I get it.” The lighthearted tone in his voice clashes wildly against the intensity in his eyes. “There’s a version of this, whatever this is, where you choose me, isn’t there? One where you and I…?”

“Maybe.” She gives him a melancholic smile. “Just… not this one.”

Byleth knows she has to fall. She has to take that final blow that sends her down into the abyss. It’s the only way to make things turn out the way she wants to. She knows that, but she’s still just as terrified when the darkness claims her.

“You… how long do you intend to sleep? Get on your feet. Right now!”

The stairs leading up to the ruins of the old monastery are littered with butchered corpses. Carefully minding her steps, Byleth continues forward, heading towards the place where she knows she’ll find the wretched shell of the boy she abandoned when he needed her the most.

He’s on the floor, leaning heavily on his lance to stay upright. His pale skin is stained with blood. The dark circle surrounding his one remaining eye has the color of a bruise. Sweat, mud, wounds, scars – his handsome face is covered in layers upon layers of suffering. The guilt hits her in the stomach like a sledgehammer. Even though she always knows what awaits her at the end of her five-year slumber, she’s never prepared for that first sight of the haunted creature that used to be Dimitri.

Her dream comes with many sacrifices, and this is the one where Dimitri pays the price. The king that Fódlan so desperately needs can only rise from the ruins of a broken prince.

The prince in front of her is about as broken as a man can be.

Byleth knows he won’t accept her hand, but she still reaches out for him. She always does. And it always breaks her heart when he turns away.

“I should have known that one day you would be haunting me as well.”

The abandoned monastery springs back to life as its former teachers and students return. One by one they enter Garregh Mach, all of them bringing a shard of joy and a small shimmer of hope. Byleth smiles as she watches a highly frustrated Lysithea try to put a book back on a shelf she clearly can’t reach. Her smile widens even more when Raphael enters the library. She knows exactly where the situation is heading, and she never grows tired of watching her former students get into ridiculous fights over absolute nonsense.

Her happiness is genuine, but it’s also bittersweet. This is where the tricky part begins.

“Leave it to me,” Byleth yells as she crosses the battlefield, heading towards the trembling silver-haired foe. It’s not a very strategic decision, but no one questions her. Maybe they’re all relieved they won’t have to be the one dealing the final blow against the sweetest boy to ever grace the Officers Academy.

When Dorothea dances, she enthralls everyone around her. No one, friend nor foe, can look away. They see a rose in bloom: beautiful, delicate, and full of life. She doesn’t. No matter how many times Byleth tries to convince her otherwise, the songstress still only sees herself as petals slowly falling to the ground, leaving nothing but thorns.

Byleth is well aware of the location where Rhea is kept prisoner, but she still pretends to be just as concerned as the rest of the archbishop’s loyal supporters. She holds on to her worried façade with an iron grip, because keeping Rhea locked up is the only way to prevent her from crushing Byleth’s plan before it’s even started.

Though they’d never admit it themselves, Dimitri, Edelgard and Claude share a fairly similar vision. The three of them fight for a unified Fódlan, where the strong will no longer prey on the weak. In a world like that, there’s no place for a power-hungry demigoddess. Byleth knows it, and so does Rhea.

A part of Byleth hates Dimitri with her entire being during his feral phase. Another part still loves him just as intensely. Her exasperated frustration is, however, always present, because spending hours upon hours on building a strategy around a murder machine with zero sense of self-perseverance makes her want throw the prince off a damn roof.

She finds him in the cathedral as always, muttering morbid nonsense about ghosts and heads being ripped off their shoulders. While she doesn’t usually agree with Felix when he calls the prince a wild boar, she has to admit that approaching Dimitri when he’s like this feels a bit like cornering a wounded animal – an animal with a very bad temper and very sharp claws.

“Dimitri,” she says softly. “We need to talk.”

Dimitri slowly turns around. Despite everything that’s happened to him, he still moves with the proud confidence of a ruler. He stands tall before her, his broad shoulders blocking the evening’s last rays of sunlight trickling in from the windows. The resentment in his single eye is merciless.

“Leave.”

“No.” She raises her chin. “Your army expects me to guide them through this war, and I can’t do that if you continue to disregard my orders. The stunt you pulled today with those bandits… You’re going to get yourself killed, and you’re taking everyone down with you. I can’t allow that.”

“You can’t allow that?” His cold chuckle sends a shiver down her spine. “Who do you think you are, giving orders to the walking corpse of your prince?”

He takes a step forward, and despite her feigned confidence, she takes a step back. A grave mistake. He continues forward, and she continues to back away. The wounded animal has caught the scent of blood.

Her back hits the wall. He places a hand next to her head and leans forward, caging her in. She’s fast and clever, but he’s got more raw strength than a mere human should ever possess. She would never defeat him in hand-to-hand combat, and they both know it.

“If you do not approve of what I have become, then kill me”, he says. “If you insist that you cannot… then I will continue to use you and your friends until the flesh falls from your bones.”

She swallows hard, but refuses to look away. Her courage might be wavering, but her resolve is not. “I’m not afraid of you, Dimitri.”

“You should be.” His gloved hand slowly traces her arm, her shoulder, her collarbone, until finally coming to a rest on her neck. His thumb caresses the vulnerable skin of her throat before giving it a light squeeze. “Don’t you dare pity me, Professor. We’re the same, you and I. After all is said and done, we are both murderers. Both stained. Both monsters.”

“Yes,” she whispers. “We are.”

His pauses. For the first time since their reunion, he truly looks at her. His trembling exhalation tells her he’s finally noticed it – her longing, her yearning, her need – and he snaps. His lips crash into hers. She melts into his ruthless touch, returning the kiss with a desperation matching his.

She’s back.

She’s home.

He pulls back, his eye roaming her face with childlike wonder. To her, this is just one of the countless kisses they’ve already shared, but to him, it’s their first – and, as far as he knows, possibly their last. A moan escapes her lips as he grabs the back of her thighs and hoists her up. His grip tightens to the point where it will most certainly leave bruises. He clings to her like a man on the verge of drowning.

“I won’t leave you again, Dimitri,” she says, entangling her fingers in his hair as his lips wander down her throat. “I swear it.”

“Good.” He bites down hard on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, a place where neither her hair nor her clothes would hide the mark. She can’t see his face, but she feels his feral grin against her skin. “I do not intend to let you go.”

Manuela and Hanneman have been bickering for nearly half an hour when Sylvain walks by their table in the dining hall. He pauses mid-step and leans down.

“You’re aware that everyone knows you’re sleeping with each other, right?”

Hanneman gasps. Manuela screams. Ingrid kicks Sylvain in the shin.

Some sacrifices are uglier than others. Rodrigue’s death, as necessary as it is, might be the ugliest one of them all.

“Your hands are so warm… Have they always been?”

The last remains of the broken prince is washed away by the pouring rain. The king rises.

One day, Mercedes drags a reluctant Death Knight into the monastery. She smiles proudly, reminding Byleth of a child that’s about to ask her parents if she can keep the stray cat she just found in the gutter. Byleth can’t deny the value of Jeritza’s skills, so he stays. On the battlefield, she appreciates his presence. Everywhere else, she’s ambiguous at best. She tries to believe Mercedes when she claims that her brother is just a little bit misunderstood, but he’s not making it easy. Not even once during her countless lifetimes has she managed to get share a cup of tea with the knight without receiving a poetic confession of how badly he wants to stab her in the chest.

Byleth is never as calm as when she’s lying in Dimitri’s arms, listening to the soft thuds of his beating heart. She can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a ticking little machine in your chest that keeps you alive. According to Dimitri, people usually don’t even think about it. It’s just there. She wonders if she would get used to it too, if her heart ever were to start beating.

She highly doubts it.

Sylvain pauses mid-step as he passes Dimitri and Byleth in the dining hall. He smirks.

“You’re aware that everyone knows you’re—”

Ingrid clocks him in the head with a plate.

Byleth hates Gronder Field.

“If you’re going to lead Fódlan, then the Alliance lords will follow you.” Claude hands Dimitri his bow. The former leader of the Alliance is limping a little, but overall, he seems to have gotten through the battle more or less unharmed. He always does. It’s like his plans have so many backup plans that not even death itself can keep track of what’s going on.

“I’ve played my part now,” he continues. “Right, Teach?”

“You have,” Byleth says. “Thank you for trusting us.” Wordlessly, she adds, Thank you for trusting me.

“I knew you’d come. You’re a bunch of soft-hearted suckers after all.” Claude winks, and wordlessly replies, Always.

“Go to Almyra. Make your vision come true, Kha—” She bites her tongue, but the slip is already out. “Claude. Make your vision come true, Claude.”

“Your wish is my command.” He gives her a sarcastic little bow, keeping eye contact through the entire movement. His grin has a knowing edge. “Too bad I’ll never get to experience that other version, eh? I bet it was a fun one.”

Byleth smiles. “It was.”

Hilda manages to break an impressive amount of hearts – and furniture – during the few days she stays at the monastery before jumping back up on her wyvern to follow Claude to Almyra.

This is it.

Byleth clenches her trembling fists as Edelgard walks up to Dimitri. For the first time in many, many years, the two of them speak in earnest. Their conversation is calm and sensible, dancing around the unavoidable for as long as they can. Eventually, they reach the point of no return. They share the same vision, but they both conclude that their methods are too disparate to coexist.

In every other timeline, this is where Byleth loses. Dimitri and Edelgard go their separate ways, and one of them winds up dead. She takes a deep breath. Not this time.

“Neither of you will see your dream come true unless we defeat Those Who Slither in the Dark.” She looks at a highly skeptical Edelgard, and then turn her gaze to a very confused Dimitri. This is the moment she’s been preparing for since she first laid eyes on the three heirs. This is why she spent so much effort on returning lost items, organizing choir practices, and saving money for expensive tea. This is it.

“Do you trust me?”

The temporary truce between the Holy Kingdom and the Empire is anything but pretty. The wounds each side have caused the other are too deep to heal with a simple common goal. What they all share, though, is their loyalty to their respective leader – and their leaders have decided to put their faith in their old professor.

Together, they prepare for their march to Shambhala.

An unavoidable side effect of the truce is the liberation of Rhea.

If Rhea knows Byleth’s true feelings, she doesn’t show it. The demigoddess keeps giving Byleth that serene smile, treating her like a companion, a mother, and a daughter all at once. Byleth plays along, because she knows all too well how Rhea reacts when someone questions her authority. It always ends with fire. Lots, and lots of fire.

Byleth keeps up her dangerous act, because Rhea can’t show her true face yet. Those Who Slither in the Dark must be defeated before the world burns.

“You never told me about Those Who Slither in the Dark,” Dimitri murmurs, softly stroking Byleth’s hair. “Why would you hide such a thing from me?”

“If I’d told you, you would have gone after them yourself.” She presses a kiss to his jaw before settling back down on his chest. Her body relaxes to the sound of his heartbeats. “We wouldn’t have made it on our own.”

A lie, of course, but it’s a white one.

He sighs. “Even now, after all this time, you are still a mystery to me. My beloved, will you ever entrust me with your secrets?”

“When all of this is over, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Truth.

Edelgard grabs Byleth’s arm and pulls her to the side. “For as long as the Church of Seiros controls Fódlan, this war will never end,” she says in a low voice. “I will continue down this path until the people of this land are free to decide their own fates. I have devoted my life to destroying the blood-stained cycle the church so desperately wishes to uphold. Defeating Those Who Slither in the Dark will not lead me astray.”

“I know.”

They stand in silence for a while, watching the army close in on the underground city.

“Will you go back to them, once this battle is over? To him?” Edelgard lowers her eyes. “You were once like family to me. I do not regret my decision to start this war, but I cannot help but wonder how things would have been if I’d walked down this path with you by my side.”

Better, yet so much worse.

After making sure no one’s listening, Byleth leans closer. “I want the cycle to end, too, El. So does Dimitri.”

“A highborn person like him will never understand the struggles of the poor and weak.” Edelgard scoffs. “He believes they cannot survive without their faith, that it’s their useless prayers to a goddess who will never answer that keep them alive. He claims to speak on the behalf of the people, yet he still refuses to let go of the system that is causing this injustice. Do you truly believe that he will change his mind, my teacher? That a man like him can ever see the truth?”

“I hope so. Just like I hope that you, once this is over, will see that you both share the same vision.”

“That’s a dangerous gamble, even for a strategist like you.” She snorts, her eyes glittering with amusement. “But then again, I do remember the days when you used to make plans based entirely on lucky hits.”

Byleth has never seen anything as terrifying or as beautiful as Dimitri and Edelgard fighting side by side. Power, grace, speed, skill – together, the two rulers are unstoppable. Edelgard gives Dimitri a short nod when Areadbhar blocks an enemy blade moments before it slashes her side. Dimitri’s lips twitch when she returns the favor, her shield blocking an arrow aimed at his chest.

In perfect synchronization, they both fall back as they reach their final foe. With the Emperor and the King guarding her back, Byleth raises the Sword of the Creator.

Thales falls.

“So, uh, are we still at war or what?” Caspar asks, casting nervous glances left and right as the army leaves the ruins of Shambhala.

Linhardt yawns. “I have no idea.”

In all honesty, neither did Byleth.

Back at Garreg Mach, Rhea, still affected by her years of imprisonment, once again tries to entrust Byleth with the leadership of the Church of Seiros. The demigoddess eyes turn cold when Byleth declines.

“The world is changing, Seiros,” Byleth says. “Humanity is rising up. Fódlan belongs to its people, and It’s time for the children of Sothis to let go.”

Rhea reacts just like Byleth knew she would. A guttural roar pierces the tense silence of the monastery.

The world burns.

The crest stones within the soldiers and monks of the Church of Seiros react to the Immaculate One’s calls, and soon, the monastery is crawling with mindless beasts. The two armies are once again forced to work together, and so is Dimitri and Edelgard. Putting their grudge back on pause, the two of them raise their weapons against the feral creature that used to be Rhea.

Out of all of Byleth’s battles against the Immaculate One, this should have been the easiest one. With two armies instead of one, she was certain the odds were in their favor – but, as always, it turns out there’s a detail she’s overlooked.

With Dimitri’s and Edelgard’s strength combined, Those Who Slither in the Dark went down much faster than Byleth predicted. Thales never managed to summon his javelins of light. Rhea never took that almost lethal hit to save them all.

This version of the Immaculate One, worn-out but mostly unharmed, is the strongest one Byleth has ever faced.

Over and over, Byleth sends the coiled blade of the Sword of the Creator through the air, but every time an enemy falls another one takes its place. All around her, soldiers of the Kingdom and the Empire alike fall victim to the Immaculate One’s merciless fire. True terror fills Byleth’s chest. She miscalculated, and this time, she won’t be able to go back and make things right. This is her last shot, and she’s failing. Again.

“What’s the plan?” Sylvain yells from his steed, blood trickling down his face from a wound on his forehead.

Byleth slashes down another white beast as she tries to come up with an answer. Not even Ashe and Lysithea have managed to get close enough to Rhea to attack. Dedue, who can usually withstand pretty much anything, was nearly killed in one single hit. There is no plan. There hasn’t been for quite some time.

Somewhere to her right, Edelgard gasps. “Look!”

Byleth turns around. Her eyes narrow as she stares at the horizon. A strange cloud is approaching from the east, and it’s moving fast.

“What is that?” Dimitri punches a church soldier in the face before piercing another one with his lance in one single movement. “More beasts?”

Byleth’s brain goes blank. They wouldn’t survive another wave of reinforcements. Her battalion withdrew ages ago. Mercedes is running out of healing spells. Felix, the one-man army, is surrounded, and he’s already tricked death more times than should have been statistically possible. Byleth has officially run out of strategies.

She squints at the horizon. Her heart skips a beat. She catches the glimpse of a banner, and it carries the colors of yellow and black.

“No,” she says, smiling. “It’s the King of Almyra.”

The master of unpredictability swoops in with an army of wyvern riders, and just like that, the tides turn. Eventually, Byleth stands before Rhea with the three young rulers by her side.

“You ungrateful piece of trash.” The Immaculate One’s eyes burn with manic hatred. “I gave you everything. You stole my mother from me. I will take her back!”

She lunges for Byleth, but her blow is blocked by a crimson shield.

“Your reign has ended, Rhea,” Edelgard says, her voice unwavering. “This battle marks the birth of a new world – a world where the strong will no longer prey on the weak.”

Dimitri rearranges his grip on Areadbhar, preparing to strike. “A world where people are allowed to choose their own beliefs.”

“A world where everyone, regardless of their heritage, can be free.” Claude draws his bow.

Edelgard gives the two kings an appreciative nod before turning back to Rhea. “A world,” she says as she raises Aymr, “where there’s no need for gods.”

The Immaculate One falls. One by one, the crest-bearing beasts drop to the ground as Seiros’ power leaves their bodies. Something cracks in Byleth’s chest. The Sword of the Creator slips from her hands, and then she’s falling too.

She knows what’s happening. She’s known from the beginning how her journey would end.

It was worth it, she thinks, and then the darkness claims her.

Byleth blinks. Her mind is blank. She tries to remember where she is, but her brain gives her nothing. She then tries to remember who she is, but she doesn’t seem to know that either.

“Professor.”

“Teach.”

“Teacher.”

The three names are called out all at once, and somehow, she knows they all belong to her. She blinks again and tries to focus on the three faces hovering above her. Blue eyes, green eyes, violet eyes, all staring down at her, sharing the same obvious relief. Her mind clicks. Everything falls back into place.

“I did it,” she whispers. “I finally did it.”

Dimitri scoops her up and hugs her to his chest with a desperation that makes her fear for the safety of her ribs.

Edelgard smiles, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Voice trembling, Claude says, “I like the new hair.”

Once the Emperor has made sure that the governing of Fódlan will no longer be decided by bloodlines but by the will of the people, she hands over the crown to the unified nation’s first elected king. The former Prince of Faerghus becomes the King of Fódlan, and with the support of the King of Almyra, he opens up the continent’s borders to the rest of the world.

The power of turning back time is lost forever. The human who once wielded it feels no remorse.

Byleth never stops cherishing the soft thuds of her beating heart.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #dimileth #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #edelgard von hresvelg #claude von riegan #i mean they're all in there #all of them #everybody lives au #a very very ambitious everybody lives au #SO MUCH EFFORT

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fallinforgyu · 3 years

Text

cherry

pairing: good boy!heeseung/bad girl!reader

genre: rich kid au, 80s au, smut with fluff and plot

warnings: dom!reader, sub!heeseung, smoking (cigarettes), alcohol consumption, prep school is mentioned but reader and heeseung are both of age, very brief mention of vomit, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), loss of virginity, there is some secondhand embarrassment in this but i swear it’s cute, reader calls hee “baby” literally all the time, the rest of enhypen are in this (and so are K and EJ from iland lmao)

word count: 15k

a/n: this is the longest fic i’ve ever written 😵‍💫 i also made a playlist to listen to while i wrote this so here it is if you want to listen while you read

masterlist here

You’d always felt the urge to destroy perfect things.

When you were five years old, you smashed your fist into your perfectly-decorated birthday cake. In elementary school, you ran your bike through the pristine flowerbed in front of your parent’s church. Three summers ago you used sewing scissors to cut off your hair simply because the pastor of that church told you it looked pretty.

Nothing was meant to be perfect, including people, though the residents of your town seemed to disagree. They loved to play pretend, to brag to each other about their new boats and cars, their son’s acceptance to Yale, or their daughter’s to Harvard. They loved to bask in the abundance of their wealth during the day, and then drink themselves to death at night. The most miserable people have the prettiest lives.

So you took it upon yourself to let the true colors of everybody else shine through you. Sure, you were an absolute mess, but at least you were an authentic one.

And you were determined to find a perfect boy and turn him into a mess for you. Your most ambitious project to date.

It’s 1986, and the only thing hotter than the summer sun is the desire that courses through your veins.

Between the country club, the beach, shopping, and attending one of the most expensive prep schools in the country, you had countless sources of entertainment. There was absolutely no reason you should be wasting your time with boys. That’s what your parents always told you, at least: that there were plenty of other respectable hobbies for girls your age to pick up.

They just didn’t understand how fun it is to create a spark in a boy’s eye and fan it into a little flame; Make him think he’s falling in love when he’s really falling in lust. To be whoever he wants you to be, allow him to project all his fantasies and desires onto you, make all of his dreams come true, and then leave him the second you get bored. It’s a little game that’s way more fun than tennis or polo, and you were the ace at it.

But there was a new game you wanted to try this summer. A game that still involved boys, of course, but a new game to put your skills to the test. You wanted a challenge. Because if toying with boys was fun, imagine how fun it would be to toy with an innocent, inexperienced boy. To corrupt him and teach him all the things you knew, to take all of his firsts and make him your plaything. The thought made you shiver with excitement.

That’s how you ended up at this house party, scanning a crowd of unfamiliar faces, trying to find the perfect victim.

“You look like a fucking shark,” K laughed. He was always criticizing your techniques. You instinctively tried to come up with an insult to spit back at him but remembered that he was the reason why you got an invite to this party in the first place. He was friends with Jake Sim, who was friends with the host.

“Don’t you know why she even came?” Summer giggled, clinging to K’s arm. “She’s looking for her prey.”

“You’re still stuck on that little fantasy?” He scoffed.

“What was it?” EJ chuckled, slightly slurring his words. “You want to absolutely ruin someone, right?”

You stared at your friends, who seemed to think that your plan was the funniest thing in the world.

“It sounds so nasty when you say it like that,” you sighed. “I just want to find a nice boy and… teach him a few things. Is that so wrong?”

“Just admit it,” EJ smirked at you, “You’re a maneater, through and through.”

You rolled your eyes. “Call me whatever you want. I’m going to have more fun this summer than all of you combined. Especially you two.” You shot a look at K and Summer. “Who the fuck stays in the same relationship for an entire year? You’re the most boring people I’ve ever met.”

“I just pity the kid that’s gonna finish the summer with a broken heart.” K stared at you and took another sip of his drink.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Summer tugged on his shirt. “She’s just having fun.”

“Thank you.” You sighed. “Now, can you guys let me focus?”

Your friends’ voices blended in with the hum of the party as your eyes scanned over the crowd of faces again and... nothing. All of the boys you saw were either drunk off their asses or flirting with girls or both. Maybe this summer was going to be more boring than you thought.

You huffed and downed the rest of your drink, turning your head to ask EJ to drive you home when your eyes caught a glimpse of… someone. You whipped your head back around to find the mystery boy, squinting your eyes to search with even more precision than before.

There. He stood about halfway up the grand staircase of the house, wearing a neatly ironed button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, the hem loosely tucked into the waistband of his just-as-neatly-ironed slacks. His huge Bambi eyes nervously darted around the room from behind wire-rimmed glasses that perched atop the cutest little button nose. His full lips were turned into a little pout, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. There was a cup in his hand but he showed no interest in drinking from it.

“Who,” you tugged on EJ’s shirt, never letting your eyes leave the boy, “is that?”

He groaned before turning to see who you were looking at, following your gaze. “Are you being serious?”

“What’s his name?”

“That’s Heeseung.”

You said nothing, and EJ scoffed.

“Lee Heeseung? We’ve gone to school with him since we were kids.”

You shook your head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

“This is literally his house.” He motioned to the huge framed picture hanging over the purely-decorative fireplace in the living room. Sure enough, your prey was smiling, resting his hand on the chair of the woman sitting in front of him, who must have been his mother. A slightly older boy stood next to him in the same pose, a man in a chair in front of him. His brother and father, no doubt.

“I’ve never seen him before.” You repeated yourself in a daze, tearing your eyes away from picture Heeseung and moving them to look at real Heeseung.

“He’s the one who came in his pants last year after two minutes of over-the-clothes touching. Remember?” EJ laughed, taking another sip of his drink.

“Oh, come on. No way that’s him. There’s no way.” You rolled your eyes.

You watched as one of his friends tousled his dark hair. He forced a laugh, then immediately started fixing it once his friend’s back was turned. His smile was pretty.

“He’s perfect.” Your eyes never left him. “I’ll be back later. Hold this for me?” You shoved your empty cup into EJ’s hand, not waiting for a response.

EJ called out your name once your back was turned. “He’s a nice guy. Go easy on him.”

You gave him a halfhearted wave over your shoulder, making your way over to your prey. As you pulled out a compact mirror to reapply your favorite cherry-red lip gloss, you wondered what his voice sounded like. Was it as sweet as his face? Or was it deep and mysterious? He hadn’t even looked at you yet, and you had to have him. You’d never wanted a boy more.

And he got even cuter as you got closer. His eyes were even more wide and starry than you’d hoped. He only looked at you once you were right in front of him, standing two steps below him so that he had to look down at you. You knew how boys loved that.

“Hi.” You beamed at him, looking up through your eyelashes.

He looked behind him, then back at you. “Hi…?”

“I like your glasses.”

His ears turned red as he instinctively raised a hand to adjust them. “Thanks... I, uh… need them to see.”

You smiled. “Well, they’re cute.”

A little smile played on his lips as he looked down at his shoes. Of course, they were perfectly polished. So far, so good.

“This music sucks, right? New wave is the worst.” You laughed, trying to keep the conversation lively.

His head snapped up. That sweet little pout was back on his lips.

“I put this record on.” His voice got a little bit whiny and it made you ache.

You stupid bitch. It’s his house! Of course it’s his music!

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find something to say, some way to turn your stupid comment into a joke or a flirt. Those wide eyes just stared back at you, and your brain completely short-circuited.

Something crashed in the kitchen, followed by the sound of two teenage boys hysterically laughing. Heeseung’s head jerked in the direction of the sound. A serious-looking boy who had the sharpest jaw you’d ever seen nudged his shoulder. “I told you we shouldn’t have invited the kids.” He shot you a look before making his way down the stairs. “RIKI! JUNGWON! GET OFF THE FUCKING TABLE!” You heard his voice boom through the house once he was out of sight. The two voices in the kitchen erupted into laughter again.

“I should…” Heeseung sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “I should go make sure they didn’t break anything. There are more records by the stereo. You can change the music if you hate it that much.”

And with that, he was walking down the stairs, disappearing before your eyes.

You audibly groaned. He was right there. The perfect boy, the type of boy you’d always dreamed of, was right there. And you blew it. Over Echo & the fucking Bunnymen.

You stomped down the stairs, throwing a tantrum like a toddler who had gotten her new toy taken away. When you arrived back at where your friends were standing, they were nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” You tapped a kid’s shoulder, someone who you recognized from your English class last year. “Have you seen EJ? Or K and Summer?”

He laughed. “Not sure about EJ, but K was definitely about to get laid. And Summer was too if you’re picking up what I’m putting down.” He let out another disgusting laugh and high-fived his friends.

You groaned again, clenching your fists and stomping your feet. Of course they fucking left. You trudged towards the massive sliding glass door in the living room and found that it was nearly impossible to push open. You huffed as you pried it open just wide enough to fit your body, turning sideways to squeeze through.

You pouted again once you were on the patio, fishing through your handbag to find a cigarette. You recalled the advice your mother gave you at ten years old. When all else fails, smoke. The patio was prettily decorated and you found a seat on a stone bench that faced the house. You watched all of the partygoers laughing and dancing as you flicked your lighter a few times. It sparked but didn’t light as the night breeze whisked the flame away. You almost screamed in annoyance. “I swear to fucking-” you held the cigarette between your lips and cupped your hand around the end of the lighter, smiling when the flame finally danced to life and kissed the end of your cigarette.

You stayed smiling as you inhaled, the cool menthol soothing your throat and chest. You could make out the crashing of the ocean behind you, and remembered that this house was right on the beach. EJ made a comment about it being the most expensive house in the neighborhood when you first pulled up. With a cigarette between your lips and the sound of the ocean behind you to keep you company, the night didn’t seem like a complete waste. Who needs boys when you have this?

The sliding glass door slid open一 all the way open, with ease, you might add一 and you froze. A silhouette slid the door shut, and you would’ve had a hard time distinguishing who it was if it weren’t for the reflection of your glowing cigarette in his glasses. Him.

Heeseung clearly didn’t notice you as fast as you noticed him. It was quite dark outside, after all. He sighed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes, leaning against the stone of the house.

“Hey, are you okay?” You leaned forward.

He yelped. Like, literally let out a little squeak and jumped back, covering his chest with his hand. He put his glasses back on and squinted to see you in the darkness. “Oh, it’s just you.” He sighed.

“Don’t get too excited.” You laughed, patting the bench next to you.

He reluctantly looked over his shoulder before making his way over to the bench and sitting next to you. You took another deep inhale from your cigarette before passing it to him without a word and he, so eager to impress you, took it between his long fingers.

He took about a fourth of an inhale before coughing and scrunching his face up. “W-why is it spicy?” he sputtered.

You laughed. “It’s a menthol. You’ve never smoked menthols before?”

“I don’t even…” He shook his head, handing the cig back to you. “I don’t really smoke.”

He’s fucking perfect. “Of course you don’t.”

His precious little pout was back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. Of course you don’t smoke.” You let out a breathy laugh, flicking the end of the cigarette with your thumb to let the ashes fall.

“I’m the-” Despite the darkness, you could almost see his ears turning red. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“I’m not making fun of you, baby. Just making an observation.” You lifted the cigarette to your lips again.

“Don’t call me-” he groaned. “Ugh, you know what? Nevermind. I don’t know why I thought I could find some peace out here in the first place.” He stood up.

“Heyyy don’t leave,” You tugged on his rolled-up sleeve, pouting your cherry-red lips. “At least stay until I finish this. My friends left me all by myself and it’s lonely out here.”

He paused, took a deep breath, and sat back down. “...Your friends don’t seem very nice.”

“Eh, they’re not all bad.” You sighed, taking another drag. “They’re the only friends I’ve got, so I can’t really complain.”

“I get that.” He adjusted his glasses. “I don’t have that many friends, either.”

“Really?” You gestured to the crowded living room. “You seem to have a whole lot.”

He shook his head, scoffing. “Only six of the people in that house are my friends.”

“And who might those lucky people be?”

He shifted in his seat. The back of the house was almost entirely glass to accommodate the ocean view, which made it easy for him to point out faces.

“There’s Jay.” He pointed to the sharp-jawed boy that you saw on the stairs. “He told me you’re bad news.”

You faked a little gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “That hurts.”

“He’s not wrong, though, is he?“ Heeseung smiled at you.

“... I’m not answering that.” You smiled back.

He tore his eyes away from yours. “And there’s Jake. He’s the one who begged me to have this party. I think he just wanted to talk to girls.” He pointed to a handsome boy with sharp cheekbones and a girl on either one of his arms.

“Nothing wrong with that,” You jerked your chin, raising your cigarette in a sort of salute.

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “But I think the girls are more interested in Sunghoon. He’s the one standing in the corner over there.”

Your eyes drifted to where Heeseung was pointing. One of the prettiest boys you’d ever seen was standing there, completely oblivious to the giggling crowd of girls next to him.

“The cute one he’s talking to is Sunoo.”

The shorter boy standing next to him was cute. His face was lit up in a smile, his eyes curved into little crescents.

“He looks like a peach!” You smiled. “Who are the other two?”

He sighed. “Jungwon and Riki. I have no idea where they are. They’ve been wreaking havoc on this stupid party all night.”

“Hey,” you bumped his knee with yours. “This party isn’t stupid. Look at how much fun everyone is having.”

“Yeah, everyone except you and me,” he pouted.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m having lots of fun.” You tossed your cigarette butt to the ground, smashing it with your foot. “I like talking to you.”

He looked into your eyes, opening and closing his mouth before staring at the ground. A little smile was on his lips.

“Plus,” You stood up, stretching. “Parties are way more fun when you’re not the one hosting them.”

“I wouldn’t know. Jake’s always begging me to have them here. He says the ocean view gets the ladies going.”

You laughed. “As much as I’d love to stay and find out if that’s true, I should really get home. Can I use your phone to call a cab?”

“I-I mean yeah,” he stood up behind you. “But… do you really have to go? You said you liked talking to me.”

You smirked. “I do, baby. But it’s getting late. And my friends already left, anyway.”

His eyes widened at the butterflies that filled his belly when you called him the pet name again. Uh oh.

“But… you could stay.” He followed you to the glass door, smiling to himself when you struggled to pry it open. “You could stay and hang out with me. A-and, you know… my friends.”

Heeseung reached above you to help slide the door open, but you turned around to face him. His breath caught in his throat when he realized his arm had you pinned against the door. The way you looked up at him through your eyelashes made him half-hard.

“You want me to stay?” You smiled, brushing your fingertips over his arm. “But I thought your friends said I was bad news…”

“They’re…” His words trailed off and he just looked at you. Like no boy ever had before, his eyes full of stars and curiosity and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

He’s perfect. You stood on your tiptoes to give him the tiniest, most feather-light kiss on his cheek. “I have to go, baby. Help me get this stupid door open.”

Heeseung brushed his fingertips over his cheek, touching the hint of lipgloss that you left there. After shaking his head to get himself out of the trance he was in, he slid the glass door all the way open with ease, following you inside and shutting it behind him.

“At least let me drive you home! Cabs are expensive this late. A-and cab drivers are pervs.”

“Who says you’re not a perv?” You teased, turning to look at him.

It was easy to see his blush inside. He vigorously shook his head. “I-I’m not! I swear, I just want you to get home safe-”

“Kidding. I was only kidding. I’d love for you to drive me home.”

He beamed at you. “Cool. I’ll just- I’ll go get my keys.”

Heeseung disappeared into the kitchen and you heard his friends cheer after a few moments. He reappeared seconds later with red cheeks, barely meeting your eyes. You turned to leave and he just stayed where he was standing, blushing and staring at the floor.

“Well?” You waved your hand to get his attention. “Are you coming?”

“Am I c-” His eyes somehow got even wider. “Am I…” He took in a deep breath. “Yeah. I-I’m coming.”

Heeseung drove a white convertible. He ran out to the driveway in front of you so that he could open the passenger seat door for you, then fussed with the cassette player for a good five minutes, thoroughly embarrassed when he couldn’t find anything other than new wave.

You laughed. “I don’t actually hate new wave, you know. I was just trying to make conversation.”

He gave you a sarcastic side-eye before turning up the radio. “Are you buckled?”

You ignored the fluttering in your chest as you reached for the seatbelt over your shoulder. He gave a little nod of approval once he heard it fasten.

The drive was awkward. Heeseung’s knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tight and he drove five miles under the speed limit the whole way, coming to a full and complete stop at every stop sign. Neither of you spoke except for when you’d give him directions. It was clear that if you wanted to talk to him, you’d have to start the conversation up yourself.

“So, are your parents totally going to kill you after this weekend?”

He shook his head. “They trust me. And the guys help me clean up whenever we do something like this, anyway.”

“They seem like good friends.”

“They are. They’re like my brothers.”

“What did they say to you in the kitchen? You were blushing like crazy.” You opened your purse and flipped down the visor in front of you to apply more lipgloss. Heeseung’s eyes darted over to you every few seconds as he desperately tried not to crash.

“Oh… they’re just, uh-” He cleared his throat. “They were just…excited. I don’t really… I don’t talk to girls that often.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? You’re really handsome, you know.” His head snapped to look at you, his breath catching in his throat. You pointed at the road. “It’s this next left.”

He pried his eyes back to the road before making the most cautious, calculated left turn you’d ever experienced. “...Thanks.” He mumbled. “Girls just… I don’t know, they make me nervous.”

You smiled. “Do I make you nervous, baby?”

He shook his head. “You have no idea,” he breathed.

“It’s that big white one at the end of the street.” You rested your hand on his knee, squeezing lightly. His whole body stiffened. “And there’s no reason to be nervous, cutie. I’ll only bite if you want me to.” You winked, unbuckling your seatbelt to place one last kiss on his cheek. His fingers instinctively touched the sticky red mark you left.

You opened the car door and he snapped out of his trance. “I can- I’ll get that for you.” He reached across your lap in an attempt to push the already-open door open. He ended up just awkwardly leaning over the seat, his head almost in your lap. You laughed as you stepped out of the car and gently closed the door. He stayed where he was, looking up at you with those starry eyes.

“Hey, remember how I said parties are more fun when you’re not the one hosting them?”

“M-Mhm?” He nodded.

“My friend K is having a party next weekend. You should come.”

“Oh… I don’t know.” He sat up a little bit. “I’ve never really been to a party without my friends before.”

“You’ll have me! We’re friends now, right?” You smiled. “And I’ll pick you up. To thank you for driving me home tonight.”

“You don’t have to. I drove you home because I wanted to.”

“And I’m inviting you to this party because I like you and I want you to come.”

“You… like me?”

“Party’s Saturday night. Be ready by nine, okay? I really hate waiting.” You gave him one last smile before turning on your heel and making your way up the pathway to your front door. You were halfway there when he called out to you.

“Wait!” You looked at him over your shoulder. “I… I just realized I didn’t even tell you what my name is.” He blushed.

“I know your name, Lee Heeseung.” You turned around to keep walking.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to-” he started.

“I know you know my name.” You yelled over your shoulder. His eyes stayed glued on you the whole time. The smell of your perfume was still lingering in his car, and it made his head spin. As you unlocked the front door, you heard his voice squeak out, “H-have a nice night!”

You waved at him over your shoulder. “Thanks for the ride, baby. I’ll see you Saturday, kay?”

Heeseung was thankful that your back was turned so you couldn’t see how wide he was smiling. Little did he know that you were keeping your back turned to hide the same expression.

Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. You couldn’t get those big doe eyes out of your head, and all you wanted to do was kiss the sweet little curve of his cupid’s bow. It had been years since you’d had a crush on someone, and you were remembering why they called it a “crush”. Thinking about him made your chest ache and you weren’t sure if you liked it or not.

Heeseung wore a tie when you picked him up, and you almost burst into tears. His hair was neatly styled, his glasses perched atop that cute little upturned nose just like they were the other night. You wanted to eat him alive.

He gawked at your car. “Is this yours?” He brushed his fingertips over the red paint.

“Did you really think you were the only spoiled brat in town whose daddy bought him a convertible?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “It’s so… cool.”

“Thanks, baby. It’s even cooler on the inside. Why don’t you come see?”

Heeseung was nervous, and it showed. He pretended to hum along to the cassette you had playing while he fidgeted with his fingers. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame him for his nerves. Your crowd didn’t consist of the most inviting people in the world, especially not to a sweet boy like Heeseung. They’d definitely do that thing where they made fun of him by pretending to be friends with him; laughing at him while he thinks they’re laughing with him. You promised yourself to keep him in your sight the whole night.

Luckily, the promise was only made to yourself because it was broken almost as soon as you walked in the door. Summer was in tears, pulling you aside just seconds after you entered the party.

“Oh god,” you sighed. “What is it?”

“Can we have some privacy, maybe?” She sniffed, eyes darting over to Heeseung. Poor baby just stood there like a deer in headlights, unsure what to do with himself.

“The guys are hanging out in the kitchen,” EJ butted in. “He can just hang with us.” He turned to Heeseung. “It’s just down that hallway, man. K’s in there, he’ll get you a drink.”

Heeseung gave you a nervous smile before making his way down the hallway. You grabbed EJ’s wrist as he turned to leave. “Be nice to him.”

EJ rolled his eyes. “You should be telling yourself that. Don’t worry, your little experiment is safe with me.”

A pit in your stomach formed, though you weren’t sure which part it was for.

Summer pulled you into the nearest bathroom, locked the door, and then sat on the closed toilet seat with her face in her hands.

“What ha-”

“You know how I got these stupid extensions?”

“Because K said he likes girls with long hair? Yeah, I remember.”

“He told me right before the party that they looked stupid. He said I look like somebody tried to draw Cyndi Lauper from memory. He called me a try-hard.” She sobbed, black mascara running down her cheeks.

You stifled a laugh because he was 100% correct, the extensions did look stupid and she did look like somebody tried to draw Cyndi Lauper from memory, but the try-hard bit was excessively mean, no matter how dumb she may have looked. “That’s shitty, Summer. I’m really sorry.”

“And it’s like- why am I even trying?” She rambled on, completely unaware of your apology. “I know he’s been looking at other girls at those weird garage concerts he goes to. And they’re probably cooler and prettier than me-”

“Summer, you’re plenty cool and plenty pretty. If K can’t see that, maybe he’s not the guy for you.”

“And I love him! I love him and I let him cum inside me whenever he wants! Do you know how many girls do that for their boyfriends? Not fucking many!”

You sighed. It didn’t matter what you said, she was only ranting to hear her own voice. She’d never listen to advice. You worried about what Heeseung was doing in the kitchen while she rambled and cried and rambled some more. Her whiny voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“W-why do you keep checking your watch?”

“I’m sorry, Summer, I really am, but I shouldn’t leave Heeseung alone for this long. It’s already been almost an hour.”

“Oh… so your little project is more important than your best friend? What is he, a fucking baby who needs his mommy to watch him?”

You sighed and made your way to the door. “I’m not having this conversation right now.”

She continued. “No, wait, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? A little fucking baby to ruin and break, because you can’t just see a nice thing and let it be nice. You know what? Why am I even asking you for advice? You don’t know shit about boys, you just want to see them cry.”

You closed the bathroom door behind you as she sobbed, your stomach churning in fear that she was right. The pit in your stomach grew even more when you heard voices chanting Heeseung’s name in the kitchen. No, no, no…

He was smiling when you saw him. There’s that, at least. And he truly did have a lovely smile.

But that was about the end of the pleasant aspect of the situation. A group of guys were huddled around him, encouraging him to take a shot. He could barely stand, let alone lift the shot glass to his lips. There was a look in Heeseung’s eyes that you’d seen on your friends many times. You’d seen it in your parent’s eyes, too; Even in your own from time to time when you stared at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom of a house party. The look didn’t suit him at all. He yelled out your name and laughed when he saw you, and you immediately made your way over to him. You must have had a scary look on your face because the crowd of guys dissipated as you approached them.

“Oh, Heeseung…” You sighed, holding his face in your hands. “Baby, what did they do to you?”

“The drinks were so small! They said…” He hiccuped, slurring his words together. “They said a guy my size should have no problem with them.”

“Those were shots, baby. How many did you have?”

“Six. Maybe eleven…” His words trailed off as he stared at you. “You’re so pretty.”

“Okay, sweetheart, we need to get you some water.” As much as you’d usually love receiving compliments from the sweet boy, seeing him in this state made you feel… icky. Like you’d ruined him, and not in a good way. You filled up a cup full of water then held his hand to lead him up the stairs.

“W-where are we going?” He hiccuped.

“Just a guest room, baby. It’s too loud down there.”

Heeseung’s heart thumped in his chest. What if-?

You pushed the door open and sat Heeseung on the neatly-made bed, placing the cup of water in his hands and turning on the bedside lamp. You gently closed the door before sitting next to him.

“Can you drink some of the water for me, sweetheart?”

He nodded, his eyes wide and glazed over as he lifted the cup to his lips. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed once, twice, three times. His lips were glossy with water when he pulled the cup away.

“All done?”

He nodded, gently pushing the cup into your hands. You leaned over to place it on the nightstand and when you turned to look at him again, he was pressing his wet lips to yours.

The kiss was messy. Messier than you’d expect from your sweet, innocent boy. You instinctively reciprocated for a few moments before his tongue slipped against yours. You tasted cherry vodka and pulled away.

“No, baby.”

He looked like a fawn whose mother was just shot. “N-no…?”

You cupped his face in your hands. His cheeks were flaming red. “You’re drunk. This isn’t how we’re doing this.”

“B-but…” His eyes got glassy, his lips wobbling. Oh no. “I thought… I thought you said you liked me?”

“I do like you, baby. I like you so much. It’s wrong to do it like this.”

He pulled his face away from your touch, resting his head in his hands. “You can’t call me baby! It makes my stomach feel funny…” he sniffed.

Precious boy. He made your teeth ache. You wanted to crack the shell of his candy-coated heart and eat him alive.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” You rubbed his back.

“You can’t call me that, either,” he whined. “I just… I just wanted to be cool like you and your friends. Wanted you to like me.”

“You’re way cooler than all of my friends, ba… Heeseung.” He looked up from his hands at the sound of his name. “You’re way cooler than them. I like you just how you are.”

His face scrunched up. “Now you’re making fun of me,” he cried, tears slipping from his big eyes. He hid his face in his hands again as you tried to reassure him that you weren’t making fun of him and that you really did like him.

“I’m so dumb,” he hiccuped. “I’m so stupid. I thought I had a chance with you and I wore this stupid tie-”

“Hey, I like your tie!” You interrupted him. “Baby, if you weren’t drunk off your ass, I’d be all over you right now.”

He hiccuped one last time. “R…really?”

“Mhm. But I think right now what you need is more water and some rest. I’ll drive you home, okay?”

“And then we can kiss later?”

“Mhm. When you’re all rested up and sober, then we can kiss.”

He chugged the rest of the glass of water, then stood up a little too fast and almost fell over. You slung one of his arms around your shoulder and kissed his temple. “Slow down, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Heeseung woke up in his bed the next morning with three things to worry about: the worst headache he’d ever had, the fact that he was in his underwear, the fact that said underwear were covered in Stormtroopers from Star Wars, and the note he found on his nightstand. Okay, so four things, but the underwear was really a two-in-one. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and located his glasses before reading the note.

Baby,

Don’t freak out. We laid on your floor and listened to records for a little bit and then you took off all your clothes and went to sleep. I wanted to kiss you but I didn’t. Drink some more water, it’ll help you feel better.

P.S.- cute undies. I love Star Wars.

He groaned when he saw your signature at the bottom of the page. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’d definitely blown any chance he had with you now. He was even more confused because he could’ve sworn he remembered kissing you last night. Stupid.

He reached for the landline on his nightstand and instinctively dialed Jay’s house. His mom answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Park. It’s Heeseung. Is Jay there, please?”

He heard her scream for Jay, and the line clicked again.

“So? Did she fuck you in the back of that red Fiat? Was it everything you dreamed of?”

“Not even close,” Heeseung groaned again. “I got way too drunk at the party and she drove me home.”

“Yikes. And then what?”

“Apparently we listened to records and then I took off all my clothes and went to sleep.” He rubbed his temples. “She saw my underwear, man.”

“Don’t tell me.” Jay stifled a laugh.

“Yes, it was the Stormtrooper ones! It’s not funny!”

Jay burst out into laughter and Heeseung groaned again. “I said it’s not funny! I really liked her, and now she’s not going to want anything to do with me. It’s like that girl from the polo club all over again.”

“This is completely different than that. Have you tried calling her?”

“I can’t talk to her! What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, thanks for driving me home last night! I can’t remember anything except that you looked really pretty. Wanna watch Star Wars?’”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.”

“Shut up,” Heeseung whined. “Seriously, man, what am I gonna do?”

“Let’s just do what we always do. Take some painkillers and I’ll tell the guys to meet us there in fifteen.”

Heeseung opened his mouth to object, but the line clicked dead on the other end. He threw up while he was taking a shower and then put his swim trunks on.

Childish as it might sound, wrestling in the country club pool was pretty therapeutic. Heeseung and his friends had a system down and they’d had tournaments every summer since they were kids. There were three teams: Jake and Riki, Sunghoon and Jungwon, and Heeseung and Jay. Sunoo didn’t like violence, so he was the referee. The boys would get on each other’s shoulders and wrestle until the top person on the losing team fell in the pool. They’d been playing this game for as long as they could remember.

Heeseung was having fun. He and Jay were winning the tournament, and they’d just secured another victory by pushing Jake off Riki’s shoulders. His headache was gone, and he was even starting to forget about yesterday. That was until he heard your voice.

“That was a nice one, baby!”

His stomach dropped to his toes as his head darted around to find where your voice came from. He froze when he saw you sunbathing by the pool, wearing a black bathing suit and red heart-shaped sunglasses. Quite literally something straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Oh my god,” Jake popped up from the water just in time to hear your comment. He smiled, pushing his wet hair off his forehead and shielding the sun from his eyes. “That’s her, isn’t it? The one who saw your underwear?”

“You told them?” Heeseung looked up at Jay on his shoulders, who only shrugged. He reached up and pushed the younger boy off, wrestling him down into the water. Once Heeseung had gotten a fair amount of punches in, Jay turned to Jake, who was still giggling.

“Shut up, Jake! Do I need to remind you that you and Riki had to switch places for shoulder wars this summer? You’re so short you have to sit on Riki’s shoulders, and he’s a baby!”

The rest of the group burst into laughter as Jake tried to defend himself. “The little freak grew six inches in six months! I’m not the weird one here!” He wrestled Jay back into the water.

A tall kid who you assumed to be Riki joined in on the brawl. “I’m not a baby!” He screamed, “Or a freak, dipshit!”

Heeseung made his way over to you, embarrassed in too many ways to count. He pushed himself up and out of the pool, and you were thankful that you were wearing sunglasses to hide where you were looking.

“I, uh…” he spoke up, “I didn’t know you came here.”

“We live five minutes away from each other. What other country club is there to go to?”

“Right…”

You laughed. “I’ve been watching you guys play for the past two hours. You take this game pretty seriously.”

“Yeah, we’ve played it since we were kids.” He looked down and his face slowly reddened with realization. “Wait… please tell me you didn’t see…”

“When your trunks fell off? It’s okay, I only looked for a second. You have a really cute butt, baby.” You giggled.

He let out the loudest groan he’d made all morning. “That’s it! I have to die now. I literally have to go die.”

You tugged on his arm, pulling him down to sit next to you on your towel. “Stop it. You know I’m only teasing you because I like you so much.”

He sat cross-legged next to you, huffing. “Yeah, I’m having a really hard time believing that.”

“Why?”

“All I’ve done since I’ve met you is embarrass myself!”

“Well, yeah…” You smiled, and his head snapped to look at you. “But it’s cute. Every time you’ve embarrassed yourself, you’ve just been trying to impress me. It means you care.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but the swim trunks thing was not on purpose.” He raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You gasped. “Are you sure? Because that actually impressed me the most. You better do it again, or else I may just get bored and leave.”

He smiled, and this time it took up his whole face. “Go on a date with me.”

You smiled back. “Okay.”

“Like, a real, proper date. Where I pay for your dinner and you wear a dress and I wear a tie. I’m tired of house parties.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He parroted, standing up. “Tomorrow. At… uh… at eight?”

“Eight’s good.” You smiled up at him through heart-shaped lenses.

“...Cool. Wear- uh… wear a dress, okay?”

You nodded again. “You already told me to wear a dress.”

He nodded back, smiling and sort of in a trance as he jumped into the pool again.

You wore a white sundress for your date with Heeseung. There’s something about seeing a girl in a white dress that makes boys absolutely lose their minds, and Heeseung was no exception. He brought you a single rose and presented it to you when you opened your front door, wide eyes raking over your figure.

“You look…” He inhaled shakily. “So pretty.”

You took the rose out of his hand and kissed his cheek. His fingers brushing against your kiss-shaped cherry gloss on his cheek were starting to become habitual.

Heeseung did everything right. He opened the car door for you and took you out to a fancy restaurant. He laughed with you throughout the whole dinner and then paid for everything even though you insisted that he let you help. He let you pick the music in the car and then took you to see Top Gun at the cinema. He rested a hand on your knee throughout the entire film and he never tried to move it any higher. The movie was so boring you wanted to fall asleep, but his hand would start shaking a little bit during every sex scene, and that alone was entertaining enough to keep you awake.

It was perfect. The most perfect date you’d ever been on. The only date you had ever been on, you realized as he pulled up to your house again. You finally understood what all those songs meant when they complained about not wanting the night to end.

Heeseung turned his car off in your driveway and walked you to your front door. Once you were there, he awkwardly stood under the porch light and fidgeted with his hands.

“What is it, baby?”

“I think… I think this is the part where I’m supposed to kiss you.”

You laughed. “Well, do you want to kiss me?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Like, so bad.”

“...Are you waiting for me to tell you to or som-”

He gently held your face and pressed his lips to yours. It was a sweet kiss, just like you’d imagined it would be. It wasn’t anywhere near as messy as the other night. And Heeseung’s lips were soft; the softest you’d ever felt on a boy. His kisses were plush and warm and completely addicting. The two of you trailed each other’s lips when the other would pull away. He planted two final chaste kisses on your lips before leaning back.

“Goodnight, Heeseung.” You whispered, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“Goodnight.” He whispered back, so quietly that he was basically just mouthing the word.

Neither of you moved. You giggled and kissed him again. “Goodnight,” you repeated, lightly pushing his chest away. You couldn’t remember the last time a boy made you giggle.

Heeseung slowly walked backwards down the path to your front door. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I think we can make that work.” You leaned against your front door and watched him walk away. “I might have some spare time between the unemployment at 12 and the sunbathing at 3.”

He made it all the way to his car, paused, and then jogged back up the path. He held your face in his hands and pulled you into one last kiss. “Sorry. Last one.”

You lightly pushed his chest away, though you were secretly hoping he’d kiss you again. “Drive safe, baby.” Though you knew he couldn’t drive any other way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And you saw him every day after that, too. You came to the realization that you’d never really dated anybody before Heeseung. You’d been with plenty of guys, sure, but none of them had ever dated you. And Heeseung loved dates.

Summer teased you for it. “Have you even fucked him yet? Wasn’t that the whole point, to take his big dumb virginity?”

You didn’t care. You were having just as much fun going on dates with Heeseung and kissing him goodnight. He was constantly trying to come up with new places to take you and new excuses to press his lips to yours, because he loved kisses even more than he loved dates. He kissed you on top of the ferris wheel at the boardwalk, he kissed you in his parked car while you watched the sunset, he kissed you on the beach after he let you bury him up to his neck in sand; simply because you thought it would be fun and he never said no to you. It seemed like you spent an entire month with your lips against his.

And you didn’t mind it at all. The dates were the most fun you’d had in months and his kisses really were addicting.

You’d lost count of how many dates you’d been on the night that you couldn’t seem to pull away from him at your front door. Every kiss just left you wanting more, every sigh he made lit your whole body on fire. His hands were getting a little more curious, sliding down your waist and gripping you tighter as he moved his lips against yours. You’d never needed someone before.

“Come upstairs.” You whispered against his lips.

He blushed. “Your parents are in there.”

“They’re passed out drunk by now and their room is on the other side of the house.” You kissed him again. “Please, come upstairs, baby. I don’t want to stop kissing you.”

He whimpered and pulled you into another kiss. He actually whimpered.

You and Heeseung tiptoed up the stairs and you led him to your room. He’d never been in a girl’s room before and it showed. “It… it smells like you in here…” He sighed, looking around the room with wide eyes. All at once, he realized that this was where you sleep, where you get dressed, where you touch yourself. His head spun.

“C’mere, baby, help me pick out a record.” You kneeled in front of your record player, and he was thankful that he had something to distract him from the red lace panties he saw peeking out of your hamper.

“T-that one’s good.” He pointed to the first record he recognized.

“The Psychadelic Furs? Right, I forgot you’re a new wave geek.” You smiled at him, and he was too enamored to defend himself.

Heeseung sat on your bed while you put the record on, and he forced himself to not think about the things you’d done on that bed. He also forced himself to breathe. Neither seemed to work.

He held his breath and you walked over to sit next to him. You gently held his hand as you connected your mouth to his again, attempting to start another makeout session, but he was trembling. Like, worse than he was that night in the movie theater.

“Baby, you’re shaking.” You frowned.

“Sorry…” he breathed. “I’m so nervous. I just… I don’t think I’m ready to have sex yet but I don’t want to do nothing and I don’t want to disappoint you-”

“Heeseung, we can go as slow as you want to.” You gently squeezed his hand. “If you just want to kiss tonight, we don’t have to do anything else.”

He finally exhaled. “Can we just… do what feels right?”

You nodded. “Whatever you want, baby. Anything.” He gave you a little smile and pressed his lips to yours again.

Heeseung was a good kisser. The movements of his lips and tongue were calculated and just enough to turn you on without being overkill. And he was very observant, paying close attention to whatever got a reaction out of you so that he could do it again. His hands stayed on your hips and yours rested on his chest, gently tracing your fingers over the sculpted lines of it. You tried to plant kisses on his cheek so that you could make your way down to his neck, but his glasses hit you in the eye.

“Can I take these off?” You giggled.

He nodded and you slipped them off, folding them up on your nightstand. You studied his face without his glasses. His lips were plump from kisses and slightly shiny and red from your cherry gloss. His eyes were big as ever, and they sparkled as he looked at you.

“Your lips are so sweet, baby.” You kissed him again and again. “I love kissing you.”

He whimpered again, and you felt your panties sticking to you when you shifted to sit on your knees. Your eyes glanced to his lap, where there was a noticeable tent in his pants. He was rock-solid, no doubt.

You moved your hand down his chest and tummy to brush your fingertips over his erection. He let out a breathy moan and then squirmed away from your touch.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Baby… have you ever been touched before?”

He blushed furiously and gave you a small nod, barely meeting your eyes. “A… a little”

“A little? What do you mean?”

He sighed, closing his eyes. “Well, I used to date this girl from the polo club…”

You nodded. “Mhm?”

“And… we used to… kiss. Sometimes.”

A little smile crept onto your lips. “Yeah? Did you ever try anything else, baby?”

He shifted in his seat, ears burning. “She touched me over my pants one time… but I…” He stared at his hands.

You smiled, squeezing his knee to comfort him. “What, baby?”

“I got too excited and…” he covered his face with his hands. “Agh, please don’t make me say it.”

So he really did cum in his pants! It wasn’t just a nasty rumor!

“She thought I was disgusting,” He continued, frowning. “She broke up with me and told everyone about it.”

“Is that why you’re so nervous, sweetheart? You’re afraid of getting too excited?”

“I can’t embarrass myself in front of you anymore.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to live with myself.”

“Heeseung.” He looked in your eyes at the sound of his name and you gently held his cheek. “I would never make fun of you for something like that, baby. I’d never do that. I just want to make you feel good.”

He sighed and looked at you like you were a goddess before kissing you again. It was a much more heated kiss this time, his tongue feverishly working against yours, no matter how calculated its movements may be. You gently pushed him down on the bed and swung your leg over him, pressing yourself flush against his chest. He let out a little gasp.

“Is this okay, baby?”

“Yes.” He breathed. “God, yes.”

You made out with him and pressed your hips against his just hard enough to give him a little stimulation, not nearly hard enough to make him cum in his pants. His hands squeezed your waist, his legs slotted with yours. He gasped again when your thigh brushed against his crotch.

You pulled your lips away from his with a little smack, empathetically looking down as you brushed your fingertips over his bulge again. “Does it hurt?”

“M-mhm.” He nodded, unable to find any other words.

You finally left little kisses up his perfect neck, planting one final kiss on his earlobe. Your voice was barely a whisper. “Have you ever had a blowjob, baby?”

He almost came in his pants again. You pulled back to look in his eyes and he just stared up at you with that sweet Bambi gaze, ever-so-slightly shaking his head no.

“Can I give one to you?”

A tiny nod.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes,” he nodded again, more sure of himself. “Yes, please.”

You undid his tie and he sat up to help you shakily undo the buttons of his dress shirt. Though you’d seen him shirtless in the pool earlier, you couldn’t help but marvel at his body. His stomach was muscular from years of surfing and wrestling and it felt hard under your fingertips. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch you unzip his pants and pull them down.

“No Stormtroopers today?” You smiled up at him.

He exhaled a breathy laugh. “No, not today.”

You gently tugged the waistband of his boxers down, and his cock slapped against his toned lower abdomen once it was freed. His tip was red and dripping, the vein running along the bottom of his shaft pulsing slightly.

“Wow, baby…” You gently took his cock in your hands. “You have a really pretty dick.” You pressed a kiss to the tip of it. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take deep breaths again. He’d pictured your face next to his dick a bit too many times before and seeing the real thing was overwhelming. When he opened his eyes, you were letting a glob of saliva drip onto his cock. It landed on his tip and then slid down his length, pooling at his balls.

Too much. His arms gave out and he just laid against your pillows, breathing heavily.

“Doing okay, baby?” You asked, gently jerking your spit into his cock.

“S-so good.” He breathed. You smiled and took his tip into your mouth, flicking your tongue over the sensitive underside of his head.

He moaned. Truly moaned, like you’d never heard a boy moan before. It was loud and pretty, like something that you’d only ever heard in porn. You shivered at the sound.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He sat back up a little.

“Don’t you dare stop.” You jerked your hand a little faster. “I want you to keep making those pretty noises for me, baby.” You kissed his base and then licked up to his tip before taking him in your mouth again.

Another gorgeous moan. His hands gripped your duvet, his pretty eyelashes fluttering shut. His whole body was shaking and he whimpered again as he subconsciously rolled his hips into your mouth. You gagged around his length and he let out a loud moan before sitting up again.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, it just felt so goo- O-oh…” You jerked your hand over his tip while you tongued at his base.

“Don’t apologize, baby. Do you like this?”

“That f-” His eyes rolled back and his precious head hit your pillow again. “That f-feels so…”

You smiled, playfully tracing your middle finger around his slit to smear his precum around. You looked up at him as you pressed more kisses up his shaft.

“Oh my god…” he whined. His eyebrows knit together and his lips stayed parted as he looked down at you.

You hummed and spit on his cock again, jerking his tip as he seemed to like so much. “You’re doing so good, Heeseung. Being so good for me.” He let out something between a whine and a moan as you took him in your mouth again, slowly jerking his base while your tongue worked over his tip.

“Oh god,” He whined, his knuckles white from gripping your sheets so hard. “W-wait, gonna-”

You pulled off his cock, jerking the tip in your hand and running your tongue along his shaft. “I want you to cum, baby. I want you to.” You gave his tip two more kitten licks before taking him in your mouth again, pumping his base.

He let out the prettiest moan he’d made all night when he came. You sucked him through his orgasm, swallowing every last drop of cum he pumped into your mouth. Once he caught his breath, he looked down at you gently tracing your fingers over his spent cock. It twitched under your fingers.

“Where- where’d it… oh god… did- did you swallow…?”

You wiped the corners of your mouth, moving up to hover over him. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

He whined and kissed you again. Tasting himself on your tongue was new and exciting and didn’t gross him out anywhere near as much as you thought it would. He gently flipped you over, kissing down your neck to the valley of your breasts. “C-can I…?” He looked up at you through his long eyelashes, and you pulled the straps of your dress and bra down to reveal your chest.

“Wow…” he breathed. “They’re so pretty. Can I…?”

“You can touch, baby. You don’t have to ask.” You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. He ran a thumb over one of your hardened nipples, taking the other one in his mouth and harshly sucking. “A-ah, not so hard, baby. They’re really sensitive.”

“Sorry.” He whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to your nipple. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. It’ll feel really good if you just gently suck, okay? And keep doing that with your other hand.”

He followed your orders, worshipping your tits like they were the most precious treasure he’d ever held. His tongue occasionally flicked over them before he planted little kisses all over your chest.

“That’s it, Heeseung. Just like that, baby.” You sighed.

He positioned himself further down your body. “I’ve never… I’ve never done this before, so I need you to teach me, okay?”

“What do you want to do, baby?”

“I want to go down on you. Like you did for me.”

“Heeseung, sweetheart, you don’t have to. I didn’t do that to get something in return.”

“Isn’t sex supposed to feel good for both people?” He tilted his head. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He looked up at you through his eyelashes again as he planted a singular kiss on your exposed thigh. You nodded. “Okay, baby.”

He helped you pull your dress off and you kicked it to the end of your bed next to where he was laying on his tummy. You threw your bra to the side, leaving you in your panties. “Why don’t you just try touching me first?”

He nodded, softly rubbing his fingers over the fabric of your underwear. “Y-you’re wet.” He whispered, almost to himself.

“You do that to me, baby. You’ve done that to me since the first night I met you.”

He whimpered again, pressing a kiss to your clothed heat. His tongue lightly dragged across the fabric and he pulled away with wide eyes. “Can I take them off of you?”

You nodded, lifting your hips so he could pull your panties down. You spread your legs for him to rest his shoulders between once they were off.

“Fuck…” he whispered. You had never heard him curse before.

“Teach me. Please, please, teach me,” he pleaded.

You nodded, spreading your pussy apart with two of your fingers and rubbing the bud there with a third. “Do you see this, baby?”

“Is that your clit?”

“Mhm. If you want to use your mouth, you can lick me there. Or you can suck, but not too hard or it’ll hurt. You can just touch me with your fingers, too.” He nodded, noting your words like it was the most valuable information he’d ever heard. You laughed. “Why don’t you just… try? I’ll tell you if something feels good, okay?”

He nodded, leaning forward to lick a single stripe up your pussy. You squirmed a little bit at the stimulation.

“You’re… sweet.” He breathed. He brought his face back to your pussy, giving your clit a few kitten licks just as you’d told him to.

“Mmm… that’s good, baby. Like that.” You threaded your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. He gave your clit a few more little licks and you let out a few breathy moans for him. “Can I try some other things, too?” he looked up at you.

“Try anything, baby. Go ahead.”

He nodded, running his tongue all over your pussy before it found your hole. The tip of his tongue dipped into your entrance, collecting your arousal and spreading it around your cunt before moving back up to lap at your clit. “T-that felt good, Heeseung.” You praised him. “Do that again.”

He continued his movements, his confidence building a bit. The record playing in the background was long finished, and the sound of it crackling and popping did nothing to mask the little squelching sounds of your baby’s tongue on your pussy. Heeseung was already completely hard again.

“Can I try sucking?”

“Mhm. Gentle, baby.”

His pretty lips ever-so-gently wrapped around your clit, sucking so light and sweet that it was almost like he was giving your clit little kisses. “Good… god, that’s good, Heeseung. That’s a good boy.” You praised, completely unaware of the new title you’d just given him.

He moaned against your cunt. “Can I use my fingers, too?”

“Yes,” you breathed. A few seconds passed and you felt nothing, so you looked down. He was looking between his hand and your pussy with furrowed eyebrows. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, baby. Just be gentle. And curve them up towards my belly button while you thrust them, okay?”

He nodded. “H-how many?”

“Just two, baby.” You smiled down at him, pushing his hair off his forehead again. “Two’s perfect.”

He nodded again and softly slipped his pointer and middle fingers into your pussy, whimpering once they were knuckle-deep. “Oh my god,” he whined.

“Feels good, baby. Now just slowly pump them in and out and curve them like I told you.”

He was such a good listener. His long, slender fingers felt better than anyone else’s ever had, including your own.

“Can I do this and use my mouth at the same time?”

“Please, Heeseung. Please do that.” You breathed. Hearing you beg for him made him ache all over.

He used his other hand to draw a few little circles on your clit before lacing his fingers with yours and gently attaching his mouth to your pussy again. His fingers pumped at a steady pace, brushing your g-spot with each stroke as his lips and tongue massaged your clit.

“Baby,” you moaned, “You’re incredible. You’re doing so good, angel.”

Heeseung moaned against your cunt at the praise, moving his tongue down to flick over where his fingers entered you. The tip of his upturned nose bumped your clit. You arched your back, and he pressed his face further into your pussy.

“Mph! Baby… I think you’re gonna make me cum.” You breathed. He moved his mouth back up to your clit, whimpering and licking and gently sucking.

“Hee… fuck, j-just like that, baby.” This feeling was so foreign. Boys never made you cum. You’d only ever felt this way by yourself late at night in your room. But here Heeseung was, with his pretty little mouth and his perfect fingers, about to be the first person who had ever seen you have a real orgasm.

“A-ah, fuck,” your toes curled as you squeezed your eyes shut. The pressure in your core was almost to a peak. “That’s- that’s it, baby- fuck!” One last suck from his lips and curl of his fingers had you falling apart. Your walls clenched around his fingers and he moaned and hummed against your pussy as you came. Your body spasmed on the bed, back arching and hips wiggling as your high washed over you. Heeseung slowly pulled his fingers out of you once you came down.

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

Your eyes snapped open. “Why are you sorry? That felt really good, baby.”

“I… I came on your dress.” You looked down at the fabric, which had somehow gotten bunched up between his legs. So that was why he was moaning so much. “And it was so pretty. God, I’m so sorry.” He whined your name.

You giggled, pulling him up to you and kissing his glossy lips. “I don’t care about the dumb dress, baby. You did so good.” You kissed him again. “You know that was the first time anybody has ever made me cum?”

His eyes widened. “...Really? I was one of your firsts?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I guess you were.”

He smiled through the next kiss he gave you. His breaths were uneven, and for a moment, you thought he was crying. When you pulled away to look into his eyes, he was giggling.

“W… what’s funny?”

“Nothing!” He smiled, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m just… I’m really happy right now.”

You brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah… I am too, baby.”

A small feeling of guilt crept into your stomach as he laid his head on your chest. Your own voice echoed in your head as you remembered all the times you’d described what you wanted to do to a boy like Heeseung. How you wanted to break him and ruin him, turn him into a mess for you. You ran your fingers through Heeseung’s fluffy dark hair and understood what the term ‘lovesick’ meant.

He’s perfect. And people aren’t supposed to be perfect, but he is. To ruin him would be a tragedy.

Heeseung started calling you his girlfriend after that night. He never really asked or made a big deal about it, he just casually slipped it into conversation whenever he got the chance.

“My girlfriend loves cherry stuff. She always wears this cherry-flavored lipgloss and it sticks to my cheeks when she kisses me.”

The gas station employee stared at him. “The lollipop is 89 cents, sir.”

The guys definitely caught on, too. Heeseung was constantly asking if you could join them when they made plans. Like this morning, for example, when Sunghoon asked if they all could go surfing on Heeseung’s beach.

“Can my girlfriend come?”

“You know we know her name, right? And I thought you said she didn’t like surfing?” Jay asked.

“She likes to watch.” Heeseung shrugged.

Which was true. You loved watching the boys. They were funny, and they truly loved being around each other. Watching them was like watching a sitcom. You sat on a towel on the beach, listening to Heeseung’s small radio while they surfed. The summer was almost halfway over, and it was turning out to be a lot purer than you anticipated.

Jake waddled up the beach, trying to knock the water out of his ears. He’d just wiped out for the third time in a row.

“That was quite a fall.” You laughed as he plopped down next to you on your towel.

“I just don’t get how Heeseung’s so good at it. He doesn’t even have to try!” He groaned, hitting the side of his head to get more water out.

“He’s good at everything.” You smiled, taking out the small pair of binoculars he gave you to watch him through.

“Yeah…” Jake sighed. “He really likes you, you know.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean he really likes you. He talks about you all the time. It’s kind of annoying, really.”

You didn’t say anything, smiling as you watched your boy through the binoculars. He looked at you and waved, screaming out a “Watch this!” that was muted over the ocean breeze. You gave him a thumbs-up while Jake kept talking.

“Jay still doesn’t really trust you. He thinks you’re going to break his heart.”

“I can’t blame him for that.” You sighed. “I have a pretty bad track record.”

“But… you aren’t going to, right?”

You watched Heeseung through the binoculars. He caught a wave, then stood up on his board and did a sort of flip trick. He tried to wave to you once he landed and ended up wiping out, slamming face-first into the ocean.

You smiled. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Heeseung waddled up the beach doing the same head shake that Jake did to get the water out of his ears. Jake stood up from his spot on the towel. “Just… take care of him. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Heeseung plopped down where Jake had been sitting as the latter made his way back down the beach. The towel darkened as beads of water dripped onto it. “What were you guys talking about?”

“You.” You answered honestly. “You looked really cool out there, baby.”

“You saw?” He blushed. “I tried to do a trick for you.”

“It was cool. I loved it.” You repeated yourself, pushing his wet hair off his forehead and then cupping his face. He leaned into your touch and pressed a kiss to your hand.

“Are you wearing enough sunscreen?” He squinted at your shoulders. “I don’t want you to get burned.”

Your stomach flipped and your heart broke at the same time. Never, in your entire life, had a boy cared whether or not you got a sunburn. Or opened a car door for you, or bought you flowers. Or kissed you just to kiss you, not to start anything else. Never had a boy bought cherry lollipops for you at the gas station because he remembered how your lips tasted and thought of you when he saw them.

And you didn’t deserve any of it.

“Are you?” His voice was laced with concern. “Here, turn around. I’ll put some more on.”

Heeseung sat up on his knees to work the sunscreen into your skin and you tried not to cry. His hands were so gentle, touching you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held.

“Hey, are you okay?” He wiped his hands on his own shoulders once he was done.

“Why are you so sweet to me?” You whispered, staring out into the ocean. He sat next to you and stared, too, resting his hands on his knees. There was a beat of silence, and then he sighed.

“You’re the best girl in the world. And I…” He shifted in his seat, looking down at his hands. “You know… I love you.”

Your head turned to look into his eyes. They widened when he saw the look of shock on your face and the tears in yours.

“That was weird! That was weird, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said-”

You kissed him. He tasted like the ocean.

“I… I love you too, baby.” You whispered back, and you were 95% sure that you meant it.

Heeseung’s parents went out of town the next week, but he didn’t want to have a party. He wouldn’t tell anybody why but was insistent on it, no matter how much Jake begged. You were reading magazines on your bed when the phone rang.

“GOT IT!” You screamed, although you weren’t sure your parents were even home. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Hi, baby.” You smiled. “What’s up?”

“Can you come over? Like… like right now?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes! Yeah. Just… come over, okay? I love you.”

The line clicked dead before you could respond. Once you got to Heeseung’s, you pounded on the huge double doors of his house. No answer.

“Baby?” You yelled, cupping your hand around your face to look in the door. Nothing. “Heeseung?” You jiggled the door handle, and it opened.

Heeseung’s house was beautiful. Even more so without a bunch of drunk teenagers crowding it. It was open and tastefully decorated, pictures of baby Heeseung and his brother strategically placed about. You picked up a frame on the small table next to the couch, and a very tiny Heeseung smiled back at you with arms clad in pool floaties. Your heart ached.

Something moved in the corner of your eye and you turned to look out the huge glass windows. Heeseung was kneeling on the beach, adjusting something that you couldn’t see behind the seagrass.

Those doors were still impossible to open. You pried one ajar just far enough to squeeze through when you stood sideways.

“Baby?” You called out, shielding the sun out of your eyes with your hand. “What are you doing?”

“Ah! Don’t look! Close your eyes!”

You laughed and covered your eyes with your hand.

“It was…” He panted, trudging up the beach to you. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“You sounded like you were shitting yourself over the phone,” you laughed. “What is it?”

He held his hand out for you to follow him and walked back down the beach. Behind the seagrass, there was a pretty quilt laid out with a basket on top of it. Two crystal wine glasses sat next to it, a bottle of pink lemonade between them. You looked at him and his ears were flaming.

“It’s been two months since we met. I thought we should… you know… celebrate. Or something.”

How has it only been two months?

“Baby…” you whispered. “This is… this is so sweet. I don’t deserve this.”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing, really. I made the sandwiches myself so they probably taste really bad, anyway.”

You laughed and sat down on the quilt, kicking off your sandals.

“And I was going to bring wine but everything in my parents’ cellar tastes so bad. You like lemonade, right?” He sat down next to you.

You nodded.

“Ah- ow, wait,” He stood on his knees to pull something out of his back pocket. A very flattened rose appeared and he sighed. “Man… I really wanted to give this to you. You know, because I gave you a rose on our first date? But I crushed it… I’m sor-”

“I love it.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “It’s perfect, baby. I don’t care if it’s crushed.”

“Wait, hey, are you crying? Don’t cry! I’ll get another rose, they’re only like two dollars!”

You shook your head, waving your hand to tell him to stop. You took a deep breath and he watched you with that look he always got when he watched you.

“You really do love me, don’t you?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Of course I do. You’re my favorite girl in the world.”

Why did it feel like you’d been stabbed in the stomach? You jumped on top of him, resting a knee on either side of his lap, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. He immediately hugged you back, burying his face in your neck. You kissed the top of his head.

“I love you, baby.” You whispered against his hair. You cupped his face and pulled it up to yours to look in those doe eyes. “I love you so much, Heeseung.”

You were 100% sure that you meant it. And he looked at you like you’d hung the moon.

While you kissed him, you wondered how he’d managed to squeeze his way into your heart. He’d completely split you open and forced you to feel things that would’ve disgusted you two months ago. You were planning on breaking him this summer and he’d broken you. You loved him with your entire being and it scared the ever-loving fuck out of you.

“I’m ready now,” he whispered against your lips, barely audible.

“W-what?”

“To have sex. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure, baby?” You brushed his bangs off his forehead. The question was just a formality. You knew he was ready. You’d been fooling around nonstop since that one night, and his confidence had only grown since.

He nodded. “Positive.”

“Okay. We can go back to mine after we finish eating, okay? I have condoms there.” You kissed his forehead.

“There’s… uh-” he blushed. “There are condoms in the basket. Jay gave them to me right before our first date and I’ve sort of been… saving them.”

“You want to do it here? On the beach?” You laughed, tracing your fingertips over his chest. He looked up at you with wide eyes as his face heated up. “That’s naughty, baby.”

“N-no it’s not! It’s a private beach, nobody’s gonna s- ah-” He interrupted himself with a little moan when you started sucking on his neck.

“I like that my baby’s a little bit naughty,” you whispered into the shell of his ear. “Just for me, right?”

“M-mhm. I-I’m your baby,” he whispered back. “Just for you.”

Fuck. Your hands immediately moved to the buttons of his shirt as you kissed him again. You rested your hands on his abs once his shirt was all the way open. The sun was just beginning to set and it painted him in orange light, illuminating every dip and curve of his body. His belly rose and fell with his quickened breaths.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you are, baby?” You breathed, running your hands over his abdomen. He gave you a tiny shake of his head.

“You are, Heeseung. You’re so fucking sexy, sweetheart.”

He slid his shirt off of his shoulders and pulled you into another kiss, pressing his body against yours. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing a sundress today, because it made it easy to grind your heat against Heeseung’s hardening dick. His moans were as precious and addicting as ever.

Your hands slid down his stomach to unbutton his pants, and he wiggled his hips to help you pull them off. You reached behind him to open the picnic basket, immediately spotting the gold foil of a condom packet. You spotted something else, too.

“Baby,” your voice was almost whiny. “Did you cut the sandwiches into little hearts?”

Those Bambi eyes. “I wanted them to be special for you.”

You grabbed the condom out of the basket and kissed him again, words of praise escaping your lips through kisses. “My sweet boy.” Another kiss. “My angel baby.”

Heeseung gently tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders and immediately took one of your tits in his hands, massaging it and gently latching his mouth onto the other. He looked up at you through his eyelashes as he softly sucked your nipple, occasionally flicking his tongue over the bud.

He made you so proud. “Good boy, Heeseung,” You smiled, lacing your fingers through his hair. He whimpered and slid his hands up your legs to tug on the waistband of your panties. He didn’t ask for your permission before pulling them down and for some reason, that made your chest swell with pride again.

He kept sucking your tits as his fingers brushed over your pussy. With a knee rested on either side of his lap, you were already spread open for him, so he took the opportunity to circle his fingers around your clit. His movements were just enough; not too hard or too soft, not too fast or too slow. A little smile would appear on his lips every time you moaned for him. He really had learned a lot, you supposed.

You dipped your fingers into the band of his boxers and gently pulled them down to see that he was already fully hard, his tip reddened and leaking. You took him in your hand and gently pumped him while you kissed him for a little while longer, working him up even more.

“I’m gonna put the condom on you, okay baby?” He nodded and laid back on his elbows while you unwrapped the condom and rolled it onto him. You lifted up your dress and slid his cock between your folds, grinding your clit up and down his length and coating the condom in your slick.

“O-oh my god,” he whined, closing his eyes.

“You like that?” You smiled down at him.

He nodded and rested a hand on your thigh, his kiss-plumped lips parted in a moan. You took him in your hand again and teased his tip over your opening.

“Ready?” You asked quietly.

“Please.” He breathed.

You kept eye contact with him as you sunk down onto his length. This was the longest you’d gone without having sex in quite a while, and the stretch made you take in a sharp inhale. Heeseung’s face made it worth it. His eyebrows were knitted together and his jaw was clenched, his lips pressed together. You lifted yourself up on his cock and sunk back down on it.

“Fuck,” he moaned. The second time you had ever heard him curse.

You couldn’t wait any longer. You started bouncing on his cock, resting your hands on his stomach for support. He really was the perfect length, hitting every spot inside of you and stretching you out deliciously.

“Slowslowslowslow,” He whined, squeezing your thigh. You slowed down to an almost stop.

“You okay, baby?”

“Too good. Wanna make this last.”

You smiled and lifted your dress over your head, the ocean breeze dancing across your skin. This was the first time you’d ever had sex outside before, you realized. By the end of the summer, Heeseung would have taken as many of your firsts as you had his.

You pressed your body flush against him, pulling his lips into another kiss. Heeseung let out little moans into your mouth when you started slowly pumping him in and out of you again. He rested his hands on your waist but didn’t push or pull you, giving you complete control over his body.

And he felt so good. His dick was just as perfect as the rest of him, you were completely convinced. Lazily grinding your hips against his felt just as good as riding him, and when he’d bury his face in your neck, you could hear every little moan and whimper that escaped his lips. You leaned back after a few moments and moved a bit faster. Heeseung couldn’t even come up with words, he just laid his head back and moaned for you, making the prettiest faces you’d ever seen. His muscles tensed and relaxed under his golden skin.

“Always so good for me,” you praised, looking into his eyes which were full of nothing but pure adoration. He made you feel like the most important person in the world.

He propped himself up on one arm to stare at where he disappeared inside of you and couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. His moans were becoming increasingly desperate as he reached a hand up to thumb at your clit.

“Heeseung…” you breathed, tightening around him.

“W-wait- ah!” he squeaked. You felt the condom fill inside of you, warming you up even more.

“That’s it, baby,” you praised, riding him through his high. “That’s a good boy.”

He whimpered and shook through his orgasm, his hands squeezing your thighs. You leaned down and kissed him again. “You did so good, baby.”

You heard him sniffle.

“Baby?”

“N-no I didn’t,” his eyes were glassy. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to last longer for you so bad.”

“Sweetheart, stop it. It felt amazing. It was perfect.” You cupped his cheek in your hand. “You were perfect.”

He shook his head. “We’re not done until you cum, too.”

Heeseung gently flipped you over, pulling out of you and tossing the used condom to the side. He positioned his shoulders between your legs and then immediately buried his head between your thighs, pressing his face to your pussy and splitting you open with his tongue.

“A-ah!” you threw your head back in a moan, stringing your fingers through his hair. He took a few seconds to just taste you and then got to work. After weeks of practice, Heeseung was an expert at eating you out. His tongue flicked over your clit a few times before he wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked, and then repeated the process. You were already close to an orgasm before, so you got close again in no time.

He ate you out with even more enthusiasm than normal. The slurping noises coming from between your thighs made your head spin. His mouth was so sweet and so sinful.

“H-Hee-” you started, looking down at him. He made eye contact and moaned against your pussy and that was all you needed to cum all over his pretty mouth. Your back arched as he licked you through your orgasm, humming against your clit and circling it with his tongue.

He moved up to press his glossy lips to yours in a heated kiss. “C-can we… try again?” he breathed. You looked down and saw that he was completely hard again.

“Yes. Yes, baby, please.”

He quickly got another condom out of the basket and rolled it down onto his length, aligning himself with your entrance again. You wrapped one of your arms around his neck as he slowly pushed in, meeting his eyes once he bottomed out. Heeseung laced his fingers through your free hand as he started thrusting. Precious.

His thrusts were slow and deep, much deeper than he was before. You swore you could feel him in your chest. You wrapped a leg around his waist so that he could go even deeper and simultaneously moaned with him.

“You’re amazing, Heeseung. Feels so fucking good, baby.”

“I love you so much,” he whimpered, burying his face in your neck.

You were both shaking in overstimulation, sweaty and clinging to each other for dear life. He was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen.

Your orgasms built alongside each other this time. Every movement he made brought you closer to the edge, every noise and praise from you did the same for him. His thrusts eventually picked up speed, his tip bumping your swollen g-spot with every stroke. When he slid his hand down to play with your clit again, you couldn’t help but cum on his cock with a loud whine.

And that, Heeseung was convinced, was the single most euphoric sensation he’d ever felt in his life. Your walls sort of fluttered and then clenched, squeezing his orgasm out of him. His moans were just as loud, if not louder, than yours as he pumped the condom full. He collapsed on top of you once you both completely finished.

You ran your hands over his sculpted back. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he mumbled like a mantra, pressing his lips to your neck. The sun had finally set, and the night breeze made you shiver as you tried to catch your breath.

Heeseung pulled out of you and you shivered again. “Are you cold?” he asked, voice laced with concern.

“I’m okay, baby. Can you hand me my dress?”

He tied off the condom as you slipped your dress back on, shivering again. He frowned once he was dressed, too.

“You’re cold.”

“I’m fine, baby. I want to eat all the food you made. You worked so hard on this.”

He shook his head, moving to stand up. “I’m not gonna let my girl sit out here in the cold.” He reached a hand down to help you up. “I have Star Wars on VHS. We can watch and eat at the same time.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

He held your hand as you walked back up the beach, and it didn’t feel real. You ate those heart-shaped sandwiches while lightsaber sounds played in the background and that didn’t feel real, either.

You were in love with a boy who loved Star Wars and drove way too slow and wore ties to house parties. He held your hand just to hold it; he kissed your lips just to kiss them. You loved a boy who still wrestled with his friends in the pool even though it had been ages since they made up the game and he wasn’t a kid anymore. He is thoughtful and he is silly and he is good. He kept roses in his pockets for you and then offered to buy you more when he sat on them. He remembers your favorite songs and your least favorite ones so that he can change the radio station for you. He likes when you wear dresses and he likes when your lipgloss sticks to his cheeks. He can’t handle his liquor and he cries way too easily and he’s perfect.

Your baby. He’s perfect.

And you weren’t disappointed at all that your project didn’t go according to plan.

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#heeseung/reader #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x y/n #sub heeseung #heeseung x you

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loving-jack-kelly · 2 years

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talk to me about sprace. i love you and your opinions are so good.

hehe i love my friends @thefactsofthematter also enabled me on this and I love u for that

sprace is like. two sides of a coin right like I've been writing a very specific modern au and also I have an au that I've never written in but has been in my head rent-free for literally years at this point lmao but like. the reason I think spot and race work so well is because they're opposites but not really. disclaimer everything I'm about to say is specific to my headcanons but what else do we expect from sprace canon doesn't give us much.

but spot is a very drawn in, deadpan, focused person. he's ambitious and smart and clever, and always trying to think five steps ahead of everyone. race is also ambitious and smart and clever and always trying to think five steps of everyone, but he's goofy and cheerful and flamboyant.

like. modern au race would paint his nails and wear makeup and just be unabashedly, proudly whoever he wants to be. spot sees him and thinks "that's what I could have been, if things were different" and he doesn't regret who he turned out to be, he's happy with himself and happy with the person he's made himself, but he sees race and sees himself if he didn't have to be angry to survive. and race sees spot and sees the same thing reflected back to him, a side of himself he doesn't have to make use of. spot is angry and tough and it's all a protective shell. race is loud and kind of obnoxious and it's also a protective shell, because race is so unashamed of who is people can't even try to change that.

and when they have each other, they balance out. spot can relax and let go of some of the tension he can't help but carry, and race doesn't have to question if he's being taken seriously. because the thing is spot is always very articulate and when he's arguing he'll treat it like a debate, he'll deconstruct and break down everything the person he's arguing with says. race is usually more like, to say it in a silly way, "you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid," but it's not because he couldn't do what spot does it's because he genuinely has fun arguing like that. he's not stupid. he's funny. he's goofy. he's a little silly goofball. spot sees right through that. so do plenty of race's friends, but spot sees right through and appreciates it for what it is.

also just like. race genuinely thinks spot is the funniest person alive. spot is so deadpan and sarcastic and people who don't know him incredibly well have a very hard time picking up on it because he's very deadpan in general even when he isn't kidding. race can just tell when spot is joking better than anybody else can so spot will say something that everybody else thinks is totally serious and race is rolling on the floor laughing. a typical reaction to them being a couple from somebody who only knows one of them is just like ???? why would somebody so cheerful and funny be with somebody so serious and boring and race is like he's hilarious so jot that down and spot is like and he's very smart and articulate you just don't pay attention.

race is easy with affection and good at saying what he feels, which kind of forces spot to spend more time with his own emotions than he's inclined to just because race starts the conversation and he can't just escape it entirely.

it's not like they really change each other, you know? they're both pretty solid in who they are and happy with it. spot is aware that his whole thing kind of rests on the fact that he walks into a room and people shut up and listen, and race likes being the comic relief, but they both bring out the other layers of each other.

not to expose the pet au that lives in my head that I probably won't ever actually write bc there's too much of it but like. human rights lawyer/activist spot and his partner of several years broadway star race have a podcast and people who click on it expecting to hear the silly goofy broadway actor they know and love are like "wow I guess he wasn't kidding about getting a 1550 on the SAT and getting academic scholarships to NYU" and people who click on it expecting to hear the no-nonsense lawyer and public speaker they know and appreciate so much are like "wow he can tell jokes that are actually funny" and they're both there rolling their eyes like "can't believe nobody pays attention to us enough to actually know us"

#i don't want to write fic in my big au but I do want Everyone to know it bc it's important to me lmaooo #it's so self indulgent tho it's like. hehe what if jack was a famous movie star who's nice and cool and everyone likes him #sprace #newsies #spot conlon #racetrack higgins

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help-i-need-a-cool-username · 3 years

Text

Fic idea

Everybody lives/Nobody dies AU set during the restoration of Erebor

Every able body has a job because its the beginning of winter and if they want to move into the mountain before it snows they have to clear it and patch any outer holes pretty fast

Bilbo can't do much because he's not as physically strong as a dwarf so he helps the wounded for a while and after that ends up in charge of food distribution and because hes the only one with the patience and (drilled in) manners ends up being the diplomatic negotiator when it comes to getting the food

and occasionally other items because dwarves dont want to deal with elves and elves dont want to deal with dwarves

So Thorin has recovered enough to start being a king again and it takes him a while (since hes either struggling to move about or sitting in meetings he cant run from) but he eventually realizes Bilbo has ended up with most of the work and duties assigned to the Queen Consort

Thorin feels all warm inside but he feels bad that Bilbo doesnt know about all this and decides he'll tell him next time he sees him...

...except next few times he sees him Thorin can't get him alone or Thorin gets called away. And then Thorin makes the mistake of imagining what it would be like if Bilbo was his consort... and never gets around to telling him because this way Thorin can keep playing pretend

This comes back to bite him of course because all his decisions do eventually

Way back when his grandfather was on the throne and they still had their kingdom Thorin's family set him up in a arranged marriage. It fell through after Smaug and last Thorin knew she was betrothed to some other dwarf

Well turns out he died before they ever got married and now that Thorin is on the throne and has his kingdom back her and her parents want to revive the engagement

They show up and Thorin obviously doesnt want to do this. He hasnt even fully recovered enough to actually bask in his glory and happiness. His largest argument against it is that Fili and Kili are already his heirs, and since arranged marriages are only created to ensure the continuation of the royal line (with the whole 1/3 population being female and therefore scarce) theres no need

Why all that is happening shes ambitious and tracks down Bilbo and asks to be included in the affairs, since is to be the Queen and he is doing the Queen's duties

Which of course Bilbo didnt know about as theres no royalty in the Shire

Thorin doesnt know she did this until she comes into a meeting with Bilbo since shes shadowing him (well as much as a Queen-to-be can shadow)

Thorin is angry. Bilbo looks mad. Thorin is now scared.

He thinks Bilbo is mad he's been doing a job equal to the King's workload and nobody told him. Thorin knows he shouldve given Kili that job as soon as he was recovered (since Fili as Crown Prince is shadowing Thorin) or got over his little fantasies and told Bilbo himself

Bilbo is actually mad that 1) Thorin is getting married and no one told him (which isnt actually confirmed but the bride acts like it is) 2) Thorin has been engaged this whole time (not true) 3) she keeps messing with his system and his charts

Bilbo as a hobbit has had manners drilled into his very core so of course he's "willing" to work with Thorin's betrothed for hours each day. Of course he acts like everything is fine. Of course he says nothing bad about her to her soon-to-be family

So of course Thorin (and Fili and Kili and Dis if shes there) think Bilbo is perfectly fine and any irritation he has is coming from having to keep adjusting his schedule and his system. Or elves. You can always count on elves to ruin your day

Then to Thorin's horror it starts to look like theyre becoming friends

Once Bilbo gets over the greatest of his itty-bitty (ha!) heartbreak he actually likes her. He really tries not to.

When that happens Thorin decides hes got to put a stop to this and puts his foot down. He is the king and his word is final. He is not getting married.

After that whole fiasco Bilbo is mad at him again 1) he has to adjust his system again to get it back where it was since hes obviously gonna have to go back to doing this himself without a partner 2) Thorin has no tact and now Bilbo and several others are scrambling to fix this mess 3) Thorin will marry someone eventually, and now the pain is being drawn out

Also Thorin never specified why he doesnt want to marry her and that brings up its own set of problems (such as insulting her whole house)

The company sends Biblo in to get answers on that last one because apparently hes the only one other than Dis that can drag answers out of him, and Dis knows but wont tell them.

Its the end of a very long day, Bilbo does not want to do this. Thorin really doesnt want to deal with this anymore tonight. Neither get what they want

Thorin says things that make this worse because of course he did

Anyways Thorin doesnt get his act together until hes informed that Bilbo has made preparations to leave mid-spring

Thorin is heartbroken which means he does one of two things: get angry and in your face, or get silent and isolate himself

Its only mid-winter now which means if someone doesnt do something this is gonna drag out another 3-4 months

Bilbo still goes around and sees his friends and basically ignores Thorin because he will not have the last weeks with the greatest friends he'll ever have get passed up because hes moping around over being in love with a king. A dwarf king. A king of incredibly secretive people. Most of his people dont trust him with anything beyond broad organization. As if he stood a chance

The days start getting longer which mean feasts will happen soon which mean Bilbo and Thorin have to actually talk to each other one-on-one

Thorin ends up swallowing his pride and apologizing. Goes back to what he thinks is the beginning of all this and also apologizes for not telling Bilbo about consort duties which gets Bilbo all confused because what does that have to do with anything? Unless its him making assumptions about hobbits? So Thorin has to explain why he didnt tell him that he was doing the consort's duties

Bilbo is all like "oh..." and instead of doing the easy thing and telling Thorin he likes him back he decides to go the embarrassing route of "thats why you kept giving me jewelry and gifts! You like me!" Eventually he gets around to telling Thorin that he likes him and he was only leaving because him getting married and therefore replacing Bilbo just reminded him that he doesnt belong here with dwarves and he really didnt want to still be in Erebor the next time the topic of weddings come up (just wait till Thorin finds out Kili fancies a elf... hopefully Fili's future engagement is less rough then this while fiasco)

#hinacu th #the hobbit #bagginshield #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield

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melody-ofstars · 3 years

Note

Hi Tessa! It's me again jajaja would you mind telling us which Hogwarts house do you think can be each member of the class 1-A? Thanks!! ✨🙇‍♀️💕

A/n: Of course!!! Aahhh, I just love the thought of my fandoms getting mashed up together like ofnddkfjfjf.

Anyway, this is a really interesting and creative ask that I will certainly enjoy to write, so here goes and just to get it out there, it is from my opinion so please don't hate me for these.

Lmao I am the Sorting Hat rn, lkdoejrjdjd

I am the worst sorting hat Hogwarts has ever seen...

Fandom:- My Hero Academia

AU:- Harry Potter

Sorting the characters into Hogwarts houses

𝕲𝖗𝖞𝖋𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙

Experience Oriented, honest, practical, blunt, playful, funny, live in the moment, trusting, idealistic, stubborn and never back down, never give up.

They tend to have a strong moral center and are unafraid to act up on their morals or seize the opportunity to make changes

𝕾𝖑𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓, 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙 𝕬𝖒𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Ambitious, driven, focused on their goals, determined, prepared, subtle, perfectionists, adaptable, realistic, self-reliant, charming, bold and assertive, clever and cunning, intelligent.

Not all Slytherins are mean and evil, contrary to the people's belief.

𝕽𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖜, 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖂𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Analytical, intelligent, logical yet impractical, curious, inquisitive, creative, witty, wise, observers, fond of learning, independent, intellectual, and introspective.

Only being smart, doesn't make you a Racenclaw.

𝕳𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖋𝖋, 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑

Hard-working, determined, loyal, honest, open-minded, giving, good-hearted, dependable, patient, practical, passionate, compassionate, accepting, fair and just, and tenacious.

A Hufflepuff's loyalty isn't free, it has to be earned. They are selective but still dominantly loyal.

Aayoma Yuga:- I think he is a slytherin, I don't know why but I just think so, he is bold that's for sure, he is charming too, he is a perfectionist too, so I just think he fits.

Ashido Mina:- She is a Hufflepuff! You can't change me mind! She is loyal, passionate, compassionate, honest, determined, acceting, and basically everything a Hufflepuff is!

Asui Tsuyu:- SHE IS A HUFFLEPUFF AND IF YOU THINK OTHERWISE, GO AWAY!!! SHOO!! I don't even need to give you the reasons, why she isn't.

Iida Tenya:- This guy's a Ravenclaw no doubt, he has everything the need, he is analytical, intelligent, observing, wise, inquisitive, creative and EVERYTHING RAVENCLAW.

Uraraka Ochaco:- She is a Hufflepuff, it was difficult to decide whether to put her in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff but now I have decided! She is kind, loyal, honest, and everything which definitely makes her a Hufflepuff.

Ojiro Mashirao:- This guy is a Hufflepuff too, I don't know much about him as he doesn't have much screentime but I have a feeling that he is Hufflepuff.

Kaminari Denki:- I think he is a Gryffindor, no reason. I don't know why I either imagine him as a Gryffindor or a Slytherin...

Kirishima Eijirou:- GRYFFINDOR THROUGH AND THROUGH!!! Have you SEEN this guy!?? SO 👏🏻DAMN 👏🏻MANLY!

Koda Koji:- He is a Hufflepuff. He is so damn 💖✨ ADORABLE ✨💖

Sato Rikido:- He is a hufflepuff too, I know I am sending everybody to hufflepuff but you can see why!!!

Shoji Mezo:- Ravenclaw. This guy is a very nice character, he has everything a Ravenclaw needs. He is hot too 😩🖐🖐

Jiro Kyoka:- She seems like a ravenclaw to me... What do you think???

Sero Hanta:- Gryffindor. He is an amazing character who deserves a lot.of screentime.

Tokoyami Fumikage:- SLYTHERIN.

Todoroki Shoto:- He is a SLYTHERIN, YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND.

Hagakure Toru:- Imma send her to Hufflepuff too... In my defense, I don't know much about her!!

Bakugo Katsuki:- SLYTHERIN! It was a very close call between Slytherin and Gryffindor tbh, but I decided to keep Slytherin as it framed his charcater more... Know what I mean??

Midoriya Izuku:- This boy's the chosen one, so it is only fitting if he is in Gryffindor too but mostly, its because he is exactly a Gryffindor, its like he was made specifically for that house.

Mineta Minoru:- Either I am kicking him out of Hogwarts or I am making him Filch, the choice is yours.

Yaoyarozu Momo:- Ravenclaw. She is smart, observing, independent, intelligent, analytical, inquisitive, creative (literally)

All Might:- Gryffindor. He is the previous chosen one, so...

Aizawa Shota:- Slytherin (just imagine his in the green and silver colours...)

Mirio:- Gryffindor,

Tamaki Amajiki:- Ravenclaw, because he is one.

Hawks:- He is a... Gryffindor! I want him to be a Slytherin too...

Dabi:- Slytherin. Thats all.

Shigaraki:- Ravenclaw, he be too intelligent and creative to be anything else.

Toga:- She is a hufflepuff... I mean you can see it, right?

Monoma:- Slytherin, I don't even need to explain

Tetsutetsu Testsutstsu:- Gryffindor, how can this man stay away from his twin??

Kendo:- Ravenclaw, she be with Momo over there, chilling around.

Special feature-

Setsuna:- She is a dementor.

Taglist:- @sizzlingdonutturtlemuffin @softiehawks

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pickalilywrites · 3 years

Text

it’s my first fic since i started my job ❤ i hope you enjoy ^^

..........

You and Me at the End of the World

Falbi. SF8 AU.

11194 words.

Read on Ao3!

»»————- April 3, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes, a sigh escaping his lips. He feels an incredible weariness in his bones as if he had run a marathon yesterday even though he hasn’t really had PE in a month. He hasn’t had PE since his teacher had run off just like everyone else did when they heard that an asteroid was hurtling towards the earth and set to destroy life as everyone knew it. Everyone Falco knew just up and left their jobs and homes to pursue their dreams: his classmates dropped out of school to become idols or viral TikTokers, the mailman stopped delivering mail to Falco’s house and decided to fly to every place in the world he had always wanted to visit, and even the principal of Falco’s school had resigned but not before advising all of the students to drop out of school because it was useless now that they were all about to die.

Many people had taken the principal’s advice, but not Falco. He still goes to school on the weekdays and spends the weekend completing homework assignments that will never be graded. A few students had visited the school even after the principal had closed the school down, but they had stopped coming after they saw how many of their peers had dropped out and saw how even the teachers didn’t bother coming back.

It doesn’t bother Falco that he goes to school every morning and studies in an empty classroom all day or that he has to fish out study plans from the notebooks his teachers left behind just to give himself something to do. His parents have asked him why he bothers going to school when all of his classmates have pretty much given up, but Falco really doesn’t have an answer. If he had to say anything, it’s probably that he doesn’t have anything in particular that he wants to do.

Falco acknowledges that he’s never been incredibly ambitious like some of his classmates have been. His talents are unspectacular. He knows that he’s neither athletic nor smart. He’s always been average. He never studied too hard because he knew he’d never get the highest score in the class and he never exerted himself too much in PE because there was always someone stronger or faster than him. It isn’t something that ever bothered him, and he’s grown to accept that part of himself.

He doesn’t have any special interests either. Sure, Falco enjoys playing video games and playing sports like any kid his age, but he can’t see himself wasting the rest of his days on them. Some of his classmates even asked him to join them. Falco has had multiple offers: join a band as a bassist even though he’s never touched a bass guitar in his life, become a part of a dance crew despite his coordination being awful at best, start a video channel pulling off different stunts and tricks to gain a little bit of spotlight before they all died, among others. He declined all of them in the end, preferring to be alone, and even now Falco doesn’t regret his decision. He’s content being a normal kid living out the rest of his tedious life as monotonously as he always did.

His parents live quite normally too except for the fact that they quit their jobs like everybody else did when news of the asteroid came out. Rather than return to their jobs every morning, his parents go out on long walks together, often visiting places from their younger days. They usually leave long before Falco wakes, but his mother is always sure to leave out a freshly made breakfast for Falco and his older brother Colt.

Colt hasn’t made any drastic changes to his lifestyle, not like some other people his age. He, too, dropped out of school like many of his peers and Falco’s classmates, but he usually spends his time visiting internet cafés or playing baseball with his friends. The elder brother once curiously asked Falco why he bothered going to school and the younger just simply shrugged. Colt never bothered to ask again, and Falco was fine with that.

Falco rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth as he normally does. His hair looks like a mess. Since news of the upcoming apocalypse, people either care excessively about their appearance or they don’t care about it at all. Considering his circumstances, Falco should probably fall in the latter category, but he fixes his bed head all the same, patting down the cowlicks and running a comb through his hair to get rid of all the tangles.

After washing his face and getting dressed in his school uniform, Falco wanders into the kitchen where his breakfast is waiting for him. On the stove sits a pan with fluffy scrambled eggs mixed with little bits of crispy, dark spinach leaves, and sweet gruyère. Falco twists the knob on the stove with a sharp click before popping bread into the toaster. As he waits for the eggs to warm up, he fixes himself a glass of orange juice.

Falco ends up splitting the eggs in half, leaving a portion for Colt whenever he decides to roll out of bed. He sits at the kitchen island by himself, munching on some generously buttered toast in between bites of egg. It’s a much fancier breakfast than his mother used to make. Scrambled eggs were usually plain except for a dash of salt and pepper, but his mother has become more experimental with her cooking now that the end of the world is evident. It’s a good change, Falco thinks as the blend of savory bacon and salted eggs melt onto his tongue. It probably would have been nice if his mother had decided to be more adventurous with her cooking beforehand, but it’s not as if having regrets about this can change the past so Falco just eats the rest of his breakfast before dumping his plate in the sink and calling out to his brother that he’ll be heading to school. He doesn’t even wait for a response from Colt before heading out the door.

Ever since news of the asteroid, Falco has begun seeing very interesting people on his way to school. Some of them are familiar to him. Others he’s never seen before in his life. They’re not all strange, of course. Sometimes there are just kids running up and down the road kicking a soccer ball or couples holding hands as they take a morning stroll. But there are more than a few eccentrics on Falco’s way to school.

Lately, there have been people claiming to be superheroes. They have superpowers, they insist. Some will rush up to strangers on the street and show off their powers, but Falco has never seen any proof of their alleged superhuman talents.

Some people post videos online demonstrating their special gifts. Falco has seen a handful of them, mostly because his friend Zofia keeps sending them to him every few days when she finds them particularly funny. He finds them mildly intriguing, although he’s fairly certain that most (if not all) of the videos are either staged or edited to look real. He’s never been fully convinced by any of them.

On this particular walk to school, Falco passes by a person who claims to be able to create seismic shifts and another person who she can talk to animals. Neither person is particularly believable. Falco only gives a passing glance when the first person begins to demonstrate their powers by spinning in a circle and letting out a low groan that begins to grow into a loud shriek. The earth, Falco notices, does not shake. He’s even less interested when the animal girl starts shouting post-apocalyptic prophecies about how giant bugs will inherit the earth once the dust has settled on the earth after the asteroid impact.

Falco reaches the school gate and pulls it open himself because there isn’t a teacher there to welcome him like there used to be. He leaves it open to save trouble for anyone who ends up coming after him, although he highly doubts anyone will be joining him. He walks across the courtyard where some of his former schoolmates play soccer, looking at them briefly but not bothering to bid them good morning. When he gets to the building, he pulls open the door and steps inside. The sound of his shoes against the speckled tile echo across the empty hallways as he makes his way to his classroom.

As usual, it’s empty. Falco could probably sit anywhere he wants, but he ends up at his old desk, the second seat in the third row from the right. He sits down with a thud and lets his backpack fall off his shoulder. He pulls out his notebook and looks at today’s lesson that he copied from his homeroom teacher’s planner earlier last month: geometry, English, social studies, art, and science.

Falco dutifully completes his assignments for the day. He even double-checks his answers once he’s done. Maybe he’ll look over the answer key after school if he feels like it. He spends his break staring at the window at the kids playing ball in the field or playing pranks on each other in the quad. He doesn’t make any attempt to join them.

At 2:15, Falco packs his things. He puts away his pens and pencils neatly in his case, zips up his backpack, and slings his bag over his shoulder. As he walks to the door of the classroom, he thinks he imagines footsteps running down the hall. It makes him wonder if the impending apocalypse is making him go mad because he can’t imagine why anyone would be here when the world is going to end in a week. When he pulls open the door, he sees his friend Zofia about to reach for the door.

“Oh, good,” Zofia pants. She bends over, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Ashy blonde locks are falling out of her ponytail. “I was afraid I missed you. You weren’t replying to any of my texts.”

“We’re not allowed to use our phones in school,” Falco says as he looks down at her.

Zofia looks up, an expression of mild disbelief on her face. “Geez, I can’t believe you’re still doing this.” She straightens up and sighs. “Our teachers probably appreciated what a goody-two-shoes you were back when they actually cared about their jobs, but I assure you that they don’t care at all now that the world is about to end.”

Falco rolls his eyes and walks past Zofia. He can hear her following him from the extra footsteps that accompany his. “What do you need? I thought you were busy trying to pet ‘every dog in the world’ or whatever before the asteroid strikes.”

Zofia’s arm links with Falco’s and she flashes a cheesy smile at him. “I realized it was impossible so I settled for petting ‘as many dogs as possible.’ I’m pretty satisfied with my work, so I’ve decided on pursuing something else.” She doesn’t immediately follow up with what it is she’s working on, and Falco knows she’s absolutely itching for him to ask.

“... What is it?” Falco asks.

“I’m glad you asked!” Zofia says, tugging him closer to her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and flips through it for a bit before finding what she wants to show Falco. On her screen is a long post on one of the message boards their classmates post on. “There’s this girl. She’s totally crazy.”

A glance at the phone screen confirms Zofia’s words. It’s a post that looks like it’s been circulating through message boards of different middle schools in their area. The original poster is someone named Gabi Braun, aged 14, and she attends Liberio Middle School across the city. Her post is a call for all people with superpowers to contact her so that they can save the world together.

Falco looks at Zofia and wrinkles his nose. “And you’re showing me this because …?”

“Because she’s absolutely crazy, but she’s interesting,” Zofia replies as she pockets her phone. She smiles at Falco. “Let’s go visit her.”

“What? No!” Falco says. He yanks his arm away from Zofia. “You said she was nuts! Why would we look for her?”

“Because the world is ending in a few days, so we might as well do something stupid,” Zofia replies. She links her arm around Falco’s again and pouts, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious? There’s a girl our age who thinks she can save the world if she gathers enough nutjobs who think they have superpowers.”

Falco isn’t curious at all. “I have homework,” he says to Zofia, which he knows is the wrong answer. Although Zofia hasn’t tried to convince Falco to stop going to school like the rest of their peers, she has been pretty vocal about how stupid she thinks Falco is for living the end of his life so mundanely.

“You also have a friend,” Zofia says. She begins to tug at him after every other word, trying to get him to follow her. “A friend you care about deeply and don’t want to see hurt if she ends up walking into some creep’s trap.”

“Then why are you going at all if you know it might be dangerous?” Falco mutters, but he knows Zofia’s right. His normal school life consists of him going straight home after classes and doing his homework, but it occasionally includes him reluctantly following Zofia sometimes to make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. He’s not too surprised when he ends up walking with Zofia to the meeting place the poster mentioned in their message.

Normally, Falco and Zofia would have taken the bus into the city, but it’s difficult to flag down a bus. The schedules are erratic at best and oftentimes buses don’t show up on schedule at all. It is the end of the world, after all.

It’s a curious thing, seeing the city at the end of the world. It’s a little bit like how the movies portray it, but not at all like the movies at the same time. Cars fill the street while drivers honk their horns and shout at each other to hurry up because they don’t want to spend their last days on earth stuck in traffic. The doors and windows of so many shops and buildings are smashed in and their contents gone. If people aren’t running around and screaming at each other on the street, they’re walking around like it’s a normal day save for the fact that they’re all looking for the next thing they want to do before they die.

“I’d suggest going to the mall downtown or something later, but it’s probably ransacked like everywhere else,” Zofia says with a wistful sigh.

“We could have just gone to the arcade in our town,” Falco mutters. The internet café and the arcade in their town is a mess because none of the gamers there bother to clean up their trash anymore, but at least there are still computers there and nobody has hauled off the arcade machines.

The two wander about the city and linger near the subway station entrance the message board poster had mentioned. There are people going up and down the stairs to the subways and some kids skating around and doing tricks on their skateboards. Adults pass by hurriedly with their phone stuck to one ear, rushing to make plans with someone on the other end because they have limited time left. It feels like Zofia and Falco are just standing frozen in time while the world rushes around them.

“Who do you think it is?” Zofia whispers in Falco’s ear.

Falco scans the scene, his eyes quickly flitting over anyone that didn’t look like a middle schooler. He doesn’t think it would be any of the skateboarders, so he glances over them too. Whoever this Gabi Braun is, she doesn’t have any interest in anything aside from saving the world with her impossible idea. She must be looking for people just like he and Zofia are looking for her.

Finally, his eyes land on a girl their age with a stern expression on her face. Her dark eyebrows are knitted together and she turns her head from side to side every few seconds as she scans the subway station, her brown hair whipping from side to side. She leans against the railing near the subway entrance, her arms folded across her chest. Somehow, she looks familiar, but Falco doesn’t know why.

“Her,” Falco says. He raises his hand and points to her only to realize it’s rude and quickly lets his hand fall to his side. He’s about to jerk his head over in the girl’s direction, but Zofia has already seen who he was pointing to and starts dragging him over.

“Excuse me,” Zofia says, catching the girl’s attention. The girl’s gaze is intense, her brown eyes scrutinizing the two of them, but Zofia doesn’t shrink away from the girl like Falco does. Instead, Zofia holds out a hand cordially and gives the girl a friendly smile. “You’re Gabi Braun, right? I’m Zofia, and this is my friend Falco. We saw your message reposted on our school forum and wanted to help you.”

The girl looks at them suspiciously but takes Zofia’s hand, shaking it reluctantly. “You really want to help?” Her eyes flit towards Falco, who looks down immediately. “Why do you want to help me?”

“Hmm,” Zofia hums and tilts her head to the side. “Because the end of the world isn’t something I’m particularly looking forward to.” She looks over at Falco and, with a grin, elbows him playfully in the ribs. “And this guy doesn’t have anything better to do, so I had him come along.”

“What were you doing before?” Gabi asks curiously.

Falco purses his lips. It’s not that he’s ashamed about how he’s spending his last days. Living plainly is a far better choice than some people have made. Apparently, some people decided that murder was something they needed to check off their bucket list. If you ask Falco, he thinks being a normal student is far better than being a last-minute murderer. Still, it’s not something he wants to say out loud to a stranger.

He kicks at the sidewalk and mumbles, “Just … homework and stuff.”

To his surprise, Gabi doesn’t ridicule him or ask why. She simply nods as if this is a perfectly normal way for someone to spend their last days. She doesn’t ask them any more questions, somehow satisfied with Falco’s answer. She’s already digging around in her back for something and pulls a laptop out of her bag.

“I’m still waiting for people to show up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nobody ends up showing,” Gabi says, gesturing for the two of them to sit beside her. Her tone doesn’t sound disappointed at all. In fact, she sounds rather like she expected this to happen.

Zofia sits on one side of Gabi, peering curiously over the brunette’s shoulder as she types away. Falco wants to sit beside Zofia. It would be more comfortable than sitting next to a stranger, but he would have difficulty seeing the screen. Reluctantly, he takes a seat next to Gabi.

“I’ve been looking at videos,” Gabi tells them. “People have been submitting them after seeing my message on the school forums.”

“Is there anyone particularly interesting to you?” Zofia asks.

“Not really,” Gabi says. She opens up a folder on her screen and a video file pops up. She presses Play. “Technology lets you edit anything into videos now. Some of these powers look super fake, but I still have to take a chance in case they do have powers and are interested in saving the world, right?”

The three watch the video play out. There’s a man on the screen claiming to have pyrokinesis. He’s wide-eyed and staring at the camera, holding out his hands with his palms to the ceiling. His explanation of his powers is similar to everyone else who has posted these kinds of videos on social media: he was just born with them and never bothered to reveal them until now for fear of being ostracized.

The flame doesn’t ignite right away. It’s a flicker — a spark, really — that grows into the smallest flame. The fire is hardly the size of the man’s fingertip, but he looks delighted just the same. The three children watching are not as thrilled.

“You really think this guy can save the world?” Zofia asks, raising her eyebrow.

“I don’t think this guy can save anyone,” Gabi replies. She’s so brutally honest that it would be funny if they weren’t discussing the fate of the world. “But I’m taking whatever help I can get at this point.”

They spend the rest of that afternoon looking through applications. Most of them are just internet trolls and Gabi has to roll her eyes more than once before closing out the applicant’s video. There are a few promising candidates Gabi moves to a separate folder but only when Falco and Zofia also agree that the person might be worth looking into. They go through written applications too, often filtering out any CVs that aren’t descriptive enough and sometimes those that are too descriptive and more fitted to some sci-fi character description than an actual person. Gabi calls a few numbers from the short list of people that the three all agreed on, but nobody ever picks up. Nobody shows up either. Still, Gabi doesn’t seem to be discouraged.

“Why are you doing this?” Falco asks at one point while they’re watching a video of a man who claims he can read people’s thoughts.

“Hm?” Gabi says, looking away from the video.

“Just … this whole thing,” Falco says and vaguely waves at the screen. “You know it too. This might not work, so why even bother trying to save the world?”

Gabi frowns and her eyebrows knit together like she doesn’t quite understand Falco’s question. “Well, what else would I be doing?”

Falco doesn’t respond because, well, he doesn’t have an answer. It’s not like he knows what to do with the rest of his life either. If Zofia hadn’t convinced him to come here, he’d just be at home with his head stuck in a textbook. Even if it’s useless, whatever Gabi is doing is far more interesting.

»»————- April 4, 2026 ————-««

Falco’s parents drop him off at the edge of the city. His mother had wanted to drop him off closer to his destination point, but Falco assured her that it wasn’t necessary. Besides, there were a lot of weirdos in the city, he reasoned, especially now that the apocalypse was coming. She reluctantly allowed him to be dropped off at the edge of the city, but not before giving him a can of pepper spray and a baseball bat in case he ran into anybody cruel enough to mug a middle schooler.

He doesn’t have any trouble meeting Gabi at the library they agreed to meet at. Zofia isn’t there with him after deciding this morning that saving the world wasn’t what she wanted to spend her last moments doing. She did, however, request that Falco send Gabi her best wishes, which Falco promised to pass along.

The two of them sit on the tenth floor of the library at a table by the window. The library isn’t exactly empty, but it’s not exactly filled up either. There are a few other visitors in the library with them. Some are seated at tables or couches, but others choose to sit between bookshelves, folding up their legs so that people can walk around if they need to get through. Hardly anyone pays attention to Falco and Gabi. They’re too busy flipping furiously through their books, eyes scanning the pages in seconds, as they try to finish their reading list before the world ends.

While Gabi watches more videos of superpowered applicants while Falco gathers books on powers that interest them: pyrokinesis, psychokinesis, time travel, to name a few. As he gathers research articles, he also stumbles across the section of the library dedicated to outer space and celestial bodies and decides to grab a few books on asteroids and meteors as well. There’s a slim chance that they might help, but Falco might as well try.

Gabi doesn’t talk much to Falco, too engrossed in her research to hold a conversation with him. He doesn’t talk much to her either. He does, on occasion, glance up at her to observe her progress, but she always seems to be staring at the screen with the same dissatisfied frown on her face. Every once in a while Gabi will lean over and ask Falco about whether or not a certain candidate looks promising, but his answer is almost always no and she goes back to staring at her screen.

At noon, the two take their lunch break. Gabi hadn’t brought anything. She tells Falco she was planning on just grabbing something from the snack machine near the elevators. The library remains one of the few places that was relatively untouched by thieves and vandals because not many people think “let’s rob the library” when they hear that the world is ending. Because Falco’s mother has a tendency to overpack his lunches, Falco decides to split his meal with Gabi. He figures that a sandwich is far better than whatever half-filled bag of chips Gabi would end up grabbing from the vending machine.

Falco munches on his katsu sandwich. It’s a favorite of his: two slices of pillowy milk bread with a thick cut of juicy pork cutlet covered in crispy bread crumbs wedged in between. A little butter and mustard give the sandwich a little bitterness that makes the tip of his tongue tingle and savory tonkatsu sauce drizzled over the thinly sliced cabbage underneath the katsu complete the simple but scrumptious sandwich.

He looks over to see if Gabi is enjoying her food as much as he is, but she’s scarfing it down so quickly that he isn’t sure she’s even taking the time to taste it. In between bites, she’s scrolling through her laptop with greasy fingers, frowning. A glance at the notebook beside her tells Falco that Gabi hasn’t found many promising candidates.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Falco asks. He’s halfway done with his lunch but Gabi is a bite away from finishing hers.

Gabi shrugs. She doesn’t look up as she answers. “I don’t know. It’s worth a shot, right?” She scrolls a bit more before she pauses, her fingers hovering above the touchpad. Her eyes flicker over to Falco so suddenly that he nearly drops his sandwich. Gabi narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her attention entirely on the boy. Her gaze is intense and she scoots to the edge of her seat, leaning in towards Falco. “You’re awfully skeptical about this plan for someone who’s trying to save the world.”

Falco gulps, trying not to shy away from her intense gaze. If he were a turtle, he’d be curled back in his shell right now. “I just want to make sure we’re not wasting our time,” he mumbles.

“Falco, do you not believe that people can have superpowers?” Gabi asks.

Falco is about to shake his head and say that that’s not the case but before he can Gabi settles back into her seat, arms folded across her chest, and announces, “I have a superpower.” She says it quite loudly, loudly enough for her voice to be heard across the entire floor, but people are too preoccupied with their reading to pay much attention to her although a few readers do shoot her a dirty look for being so loud.

Falco is not quite sure what he expected Gabi to say, but it wasn’t that. He sits there awkwardly, sandwich still half-finished in his hands. After a moment, he asks, “Er, what is it?”

Gabi pops the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth and wipes her fingers on her jeans. After she chews and swallows, she leans towards Falco once more and gives him an impish grin. “I can read people’s minds. Telepathy,” she tells him. She doesn’t wait for him to ask for a demonstration.

Gabi puts one hand on Falco’s chest and stares deeply into his eyes. Falco’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. If by some miracle Gabi doesn’t hear it, Falco’s certain that she’ll be able to feel it underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t say anything about it, though, just continues to stare at him with those intense brown eyes of hers as she reads every single thought racing through his mind right now, like how he’s never been quite this close to anyone, how he’s never had his heart beat quite this fast, or how he thinks he might just die right here right now before the asteroid even hits.

Suddenly, Gabi’s face breaks into a smile and she pulls her hand away, Falco’s chest feeling achingly empty now. Gabi is laughing now, but Falco doesn’t have any idea why.

“God, I didn’t think you’d believe me,” she laughs. She’s laughing so hard that it’s difficult to make out what she’s saying. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, but you really did. You’re really gullible, aren’t you?”

Falco blinks, confused for a minute as he tries to process what just happened. “You … can’t read minds?” he says a beat too late.

“No, god, but you thought I did,” Gabi laughs.

“Then what’s your power?”

Gabi’s still giggling as she answers. “Something else. It’s not important. I’ll tell you if it ends up being useful.”

She’s laughing. She’s still laughing. It’s a laugh that comes from her stomach and has her clutching her sides. People are glaring because it’s disrupting the peace, and Falco feels like he should tell her to stop but he finds that he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even mind that she’s laughing at him. He just likes the sound of it.

»»————- April 5, 2026 ————-««

They sit with a pack of chocolate-covered biscuits shaped like little bamboo shoots between them. While Falco eats them one at a time, usually popping one in his mouth after he’s read a few pages of whatever book he’s reading, Gabi shovels them into her mouth by the handful without even looking. They’ve gone through their fifth pack of the little chocolate biscuits and it’s not even noon yet.

“Do you think you can do it?” Falco asks at some point.

“Save the world?” Gabi asks. She sucks her thumb, trying to get the chocolate off. Falco nods and Gabi says, “Well, who else if not me?”

“Literally anyone else,” Falco replies because, well, they’re only kids.

“Right, and just die young, dumb, and stupid like every other kid our age,” Gabi says with a roll of her eyes. “No thanks. I’d rather have died trying to do something. Besides, it’s not as if the adults are having that much luck either.”

Gabi slides her laptop over so that Falco can see the screen. On it, a video plays of a rocket shooting into space. The caption on the bottom reads “NASA Space Missile Failure.” Falco vaguely recalls hearing about the missile launch earlier this morning. The scientists were excited about it, hoping that the missile would collide with the oncoming asteroid and shatter it into smaller pieces that would burn up in the atmosphere, but it seems like they had been excited for nothing. Apparently, they had miscalculated the trajectory of the missile and it would miss the asteroid completely.

“That sucks,” Falco says finally. He’s not exactly sure how he feels about the news. He should probably feel disappointed, but he feels the same way he did a month ago when he heard the world was ending: perfectly indifferent.

Gabi shrugs. “Armin said it wouldn’t work. He said their calculations were off,” she says. She glances at Falco and adds, “Armin’s a genius. He’s my mentor’s husband.”

“A genius? Is that his superpower?” Falco asks. If Gabi knows someone who’s a literal genius, he doesn’t see why they’re doing all this work. Shouldn’t this genius, whoever he is, have all the answers?

Gabi thinks for a minute, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not sure. My mentor just says Armin’s a genius, but he’s way too humble to admit it,” Gabi finally answers. She frowns, leaning forward with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “He can’t help us though. He’s busy tending to his fish.”

Falco isn’t certain he’s heard her right. “His fish?” he repeats.

“Yeah. He’s a marine biologist. He likes to have some fish at home,” Gabi explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world to take care of your fish when the world is about to end. “He says it calms him down to see them swim around.”

Falco is still trying to wrap his head around all of this — Gabi and her willingness to save the world, the genius she just spoke of who just wants to take care of his fish, and the asteroid hurtling towards the earth. He doesn’t understand any of it. “So it’s okay for you, a kid, to try and save the world while a literal genius is taking care of fish at his house instead of trying to prevent the apocalypse?”

Gabi blinks. “Yes,” she replies as if there could be no other answer. “Because it’s what I want to do. And it’s what he wants to do. Why should we be doing anything different?”

“But shouldn’t you be doing, I don’t know, kid things?” Falco asks. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated talking to her. This isn’t what she should be doing at all. This isn’t what they should be doing. They should be enjoying the last few days they have together. They should be playing games at the arcade, or wandering around the empty mall, or eating snacks at the park, not … whatever this is.

“Maybe. Probably. But I don’t want to,” Gabi says. She turns the laptop back and starts typing away. “I don’t like the idea of doing something just because the world is ending. I’ve always done what I wanted, so I don’t have any regrets. This is the only thing I want to do now.”

It’s more than Falco can say. Like Gabi, he doesn’t have anything he wants to do, but then he’s never really ever wanted to do anything. All his life he’s been floating from place to place and participating in whatever was expected of kids his age: attending school, joining a sports team, learning an instrument. He didn’t care about any of it. He doesn’t have any regrets about it, but he does feel a sudden wave of admiration for Gabi. She’s saving the world now because she feels like it, but she could just as easily leave this task for another if something else strikes her fancy. Falco wants to know what it feels like to pursue something so impulsively.

He wants to want things. He wants to be with Gabi. He wants to help her save the world.

“Is there something you want to do before the world ends?” Gabi asks. She’s just asking to be polite. Her eyes are already glued to the screen of her laptop, her face turned away from him. “You don’t seem to be as into the whole ‘save the world’ thing as I am.”

Falco shrugs even though she’s not watching. “I don’t mind it.” Falco could leave it at that. He doesn’t have to say anything else, but he does. “There isn’t really else I want to do anyway,” he tells her, but it’s a lie.

He wants to hold her hand.

»»————- April 6, 2026 ————-««

Falco has never looked forward to anything as much as the researching sessions he has with Gabi. He’s never really looked forward to anything before, actually, and he’s not sure why being surrounded by books and looking at (mostly) fake superhero videos with Gabi appeals to him so much.

He likes a lot of things about the way Gabi works. She’s quiet and focused, eyebrows knitted as she decides whether or not to call another applicant that probably won’t pick up. She never gets discouraged even though things don’t look promising. They’ve probably called dozens of people and only a third have actually responded. Most of them turned out to be trolls, which isn’t surprising considering they were taking submissions from strangers on the internet, but Gabi still carries on. Maybe it’s Gabi’s passion and stubbornness that has drawn Falco to her, but it feels like it’s more than that too.

He feels, in a way, like Gabi completes him. Before he met her, he was wandering aimlessly. Now he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. Staying at home and studying seems unbearable when the option of being with Gabi exists.

Falco isn’t sure how Gabi feels about him. He doesn’t even know if she has any feelings towards him — if she likes him, hates him, or just feels completely indifferent. At any rate, she doesn’t seem to mind spending her last few days on earth with him, and that makes him feel a little better about the world ending. Occasionally, he thinks about how Gabi probably wouldn’t notice if he stopped coming to help her. Well, she might notice, but Falco doesn’t think Gabi would change her routine. She’d just continue saving the world with or without his help.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Falco asks at one point. Gabi looks at him with a raised eyebrow and he elaborates “We hardly know each other and we’re just here … saving the world together.”

Gabi frowns, a thoughtful look on her face. “I don’t think it’s weird,” she says to Falco, and he feels his heart flutter in his chest. “A lot of weird stuff has happened because it’s the end of the world and we just happened to meet each other. If a total weirdo had showed up instead of you, then maybe I would be saving the world with them and we never would have met.” She doesn’t seem to mind the thought of working with a total weirdo in place of Falco.

Falco slumps in his seat, deflated, but Gabi doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m glad it was you though,” Gabi continues.

Falco lifts his head. “Really?” He scoots closer in his seat, curious. “Why?”

Gabi twirls her pen between her fingers, looking upward as she thinks. After a moment, she shrugs. “I don’t know,” she answers. “It just feels better knowing I’m working with someone. It’s better than working alone, I guess. I might feel the same way even if it were someone else, but I also might not. Still, I’m glad it’s you.”

It doesn’t really mean anything. Like she said, it could have been some other kid who ended up answering Gabi’s post and helping her with her impossible quest to save the world. It could have been some other person sitting with her and looking up useless articles on asteroids and meteorites. It could have been someone else having this conversation with her. But, Falco reminds himself, it wasn’t. It’s him sitting beside her, eating snacks and discussing the end of the world. It probably isn’t fate that they met, but it kind of feels like it is.

»»————- April 7, 2026 ————-««

Tired of the same snacks from his pantry, Falco decides to try the café on the first-floor of the library for some new things to eat. He had asked Gabi what she wanted and she told him to just get her anything.

The first floor café is relatively well-stocked for the end of the world, but maybe it’s because bookworms prefer literature to satiate their appetites rather than food.

The display case, usually filled with dessert sandwiches with slices of strawberries and kiwi and slathered with whipped cream, is cleaned out, but the shelves behind the cash register are still stocked with different kinds of chips and candies. Falco scans the shelves, looking for his favorites: baked potato chips covered in rich butter, little rice crackers flavored with soy sauce and red pepper flakes, and chocolate cookies in the shape of tiny hamburgers.

Falco stares, for the longest time, at the other snacks and wonders what Gabi would like, if she has a preference for anything. Maybe he should have paid more attention when they were eating together to see if she ever seemed to gravitate to certain foods he brought or commented on any of the snacks they ate together, but he can’t recall anything. He feels stupid for not noticing, but he also doesn’t want to keep Gabi waiting and ends up grabbing whatever grabs his attention.

He arrives at their designated research table, huffing from the flights of stairs he had to climb. Falco deposits the snacks rather ungracefully in front of Gabi, letting them fall out of his hands and onto the table. Gabi looks up from the noise, her eyebrows raised, but she smiles when she sees that it’s him and Falco’s heart flutters almost painfully in his chest.

“These are yours,” Falco says, shoving Gabi’s share of the snacks towards her.

“Thanks.” Gabi picks up a snack with a gray cartoon cat on the wrapper. It’s a puffed corn stick. Pizza-flavored, the wrapper says. She opens it with a grin. “How did you know these were my favorite?” she asks.

“I … I don’t know,” Falco says. “Must have been a lucky guess.”

But it doesn’t feel like it.

It feels like he knew, from the beginning, what she had wanted. It’s like he had let his instincts take over when he had randomly chosen snacks for Gabi and somehow selected her favorite ones. It was as easy as picking food for someone he had known for his whole life, which is impossible because he hadn’t even known Gabi a week ago. Maybe, then, he had known Gabi in a past life and that’s how he happened to pick her favorites. Or maybe they really are fated to be together and knowing things like her favorite food are just second nature to him. The latter two explanations are almost impossible and yet so much more likely than the first explanation. He doesn’t know how to explain it though, not without seeming crazy, so he doesn’t say anything.

»»————- April 8, 2026 ————-««

Tomorrow is the end of the world and they are no closer to saving everyone from the asteroid hurtling towards the earth than they were yesterday. In fact, they are no closer to saving the world than they were a week ago when this effort began or even a month ago when they had first found out the world was going to be destroyed. Their attempt to prevent the world’s end was futile and their effort today will probably be equally useless. Still, here they are on the tenth floor of the library doing the same thing they did yesterday.

The sun is about to set and it’s almost time for them to head home. Falco wonders if they’ll be here tomorrow spending their last moments at the library when the world ends or if Gabi will call it quits and suggest they spend their last day without each other. He’s too afraid to ask.

They pack up silently, Gabi slipping her notebooks and laptop into her bag as Falco arranges the books into neat stacks on the slim chance that they’ll return tomorrow. Falco notices that Gabi packs the same way she always does — quickly, dumping everything into her backpack as if she doesn’t care if they get damaged — and it stings a little bit that she doesn’t pack a little slower this time like he does just so that he can spend a few seconds more with her. Maybe he shouldn’t be so disappointed because it’s obvious she doesn’t care for him more than she would care for a coworker or a classmate she was randomly paired with to complete an assignment.

Falco is silently pining when Gabi speaks, startling him.

“So, the world ends tomorrow,” she says easily. It’s like she’s talking about the weather. “Are you satisfied with how you spent your last days? No regrets?”

They’re two questions that seem related, but Falco’s answers for them are very different.

He is satisfied with how he spent his last days. The past week perhaps isn’t as spectacular by other people’s standards. Falco didn’t go bungee jumping or skydiving or deepsea divings like some of his peers. Some people would argue that the way he spent his last few days was as boring as the way he spent the past month, although Falco would argue that it was infinitely better because he had Gabi. He’s convinced that however he chose to spend his last days, as long as they were with Gabi, he would be happy. He could even watch the grass grow with Gabi and he’d be completely content. So, yes, he’s completely satisfied with how he spent his last few days, but he has many regrets.

He regrets not meeting Gabi earlier. He regrets not being able to spend more than a week with her. He regrets not doing things with her that kids their age should be doing: playing soccer in the field, catching butterflies by the river and letting them go, and hanging out at the arcade and beating their high scores. But most of all, he regrets feeling this way about Gabi and not being able to tell her.

Falco doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he asks, “Do you?”

“No,” Gabi replies with a smile and it makes Falco feel a little better about the ache in his chest.

»»————- April 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco doesn’t expect Gabi to call him the next day. Before bidding each other goodbye yesterday, Gabi suggested they not see each other again.

“You should spend the day with your family or something,” Gabi said to him. “Your parents probably want to spend their last day with their kids. I’ll just do this by myself. And, you know, thanks for everything.”

He had wanted to tell her that it was fine if they spent their last day together. He spent his whole life with his parents. He should at least spend one more day with Gabi if this is his last one, but he bit his tongue and said goodbye to her with the fakest smile before turning on his heel and walking as quickly as he could to where his mom would pick him up.

Falco was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling when Gabi called and told him to meet him at the bottom of the hill near the outskirts of his town. She said her mentor was coming back today and that they could visit her to see if there was still a possibility of saving the world. Falco didn’t even question her or ask if they really have any hope after their days of research lead to nothing. He just leapt out of bed, told his parents he would be out and that he loved them, and biked up to the hills where Gabi asked to meet him.

When he gets there, Gabi is already waiting for him, bundled in a navy peacoat and a gray scarf tied loosely around her neck. Her face breaks out in a grin when she sees him and she waves a gloved hand to greet him.

“How did you get here so fast?” Falco huffs once he finally reaches her. The hill gets too steep for him to bike, so he gets off his bicycle and walks with Gabi beside him.

“My uncle Reiner drove me here,” Gabi replies, shoving her hands in her pockets. She rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches with a smile. “He says he wanted to spend a little more time with his favorite niece before she becomes famous for saving the world.”

“You really think we’re gonna do it?” Falco asks.

Gabi shrugs. “I think if my mentor thinks so, we probably have a good chance.”

They arrive at the mentor’s house at the top of the hill. It’s small, more like a tiny cabin than an actual house. When Gabi knocks, they’re greeted by a blond man with big blue eyes. The man smiles when he sees Gabi, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hello, Gabi. I guess Mikasa told you she’d be coming back today,” the man says. He looks over Falco. “Hello. You must be Gabi’s friend Falco. I’m Armin.” The man offers a hand for Falco to shake.

Falco nods, wondering why the man’s name sounds so familiar. It’s only when he’s shaken the man’s hand that he remembers Gabi had mentioned Armin a few days ago when they were researching in the library. He’s the genius that likes to spend his days taking care of fish.

Falco follows Gabi when the man invites them into the cabin. Falco’s a little taken aback at how simple the interior is. The living room is small and the kitchen is smaller with only the essentials. There isn’t even a microwave.

“Sit down,” Armin says, gesturing at the dining table in the middle of the room. He heads towards the kitchen cabinets where he takes out three mugs. “I’ll make tea for us while we wait for Mikasa.”

“Can we see your fish later, Armin?” Gabi asks. She’s already settled down in a chair, kicking her legs back and forth. It’s clear that she feels at home here. When she notices that Falco hasn’t taken a seat yet, she gestures for him to sit down at the seat closest to her. To Armin, she continues, “I was telling Falco about you and he was curious about what a genius would be up to at the end of the world if he wasn’t trying to prevent the apocalypse.”

Armin chuckles. “Do you like fish, Falco?” he asks. He smiles when Falco makes a surprised noise, an answer stuck in his throat. “Sure, we can take a look a little later.”

Over apple tarts and tea, Gabi and Armin fill Falco in on Mikasa. She’s Armin’s wife, Gabi’s mentor, and the key to saving the world. Mikasa has a superpower, Gabi explains, that allows her to identify other people with superpowers and what those powers are. She helps people utilize their powers, but she took off for a month when the end of the world was announced to gather people with powers that might prevent the asteroid from crashing into the earth.

“Did Mikasa tell you if she met any promising people?” Gabi asks. She’s licked her plate clean and cinnamon sticks to her lips.

Armin shakes his head, a resigned smile on his face. “Unfortunately, no. She said all the candidates she met didn’t have any sort of useful power, but who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone on the way here that can stop the meteor.”

“Ah, it’s a meteor now?” Falco asks, sitting up in his seat.

“It’s been one for a while,” Armin says. He glances out the window for a second. It’s not blue like it was when Falco woke up this morning. It’s orange now., not like a sunrise but more like someone has set the sky on fire. “We should be able to see it soon. The estimated time of impact is soon if I recall correctly. Hopefully, we get to see Mikasa soon.” His eyebrows are knitted together in concern, but Gabi looks just as unbothered as ever.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Gabi says. She collects her empty plate as well as Falco and Armin’s before depositing them in the sink. It’s an awfully normal thing to do considering the fact that the dirty dishes won’t matter when the earth is destroyed. She lets them soak in the sink and then turns to Armin. “Can we go see your fish now? Falco hasn’t seen them yet.”

“Sure,” Armin says with a smile. He gets up from the table and gestures for Falco to follow him. “Let’s go see the fish.”

Armin leads the children to a side room. Inside is a large glass fish tank with so many plants, shells, and rocks that Falco doesn’t see the fish at first. He and Gabi crouch beside the tank, their faces not quite touching the glass. Falco can see neon fish the size of his pinky darting back and forth between plants. He spots a miniature catfish the size of his thumb hiding behind a rock while a school of ten or so black and white striped fish zips around the 50-gallon tank. There are many more fish that Falco spots, lots of which he doesn’t know the name of but Armin patiently points them all out and tells Falco both the scientific and the common names of each fish and their habits. It’s clear that he loves it, taking care of the fish and looking after them, and Falco thinks he understands a little bit why Armin has chosen to spend the rest of the world like this. Occasionally, Gabi pipes in with whatever she remembers about each fish, usually their behavioral patterns she’s noticed when she’s visited, and Armin always grins whenever she speaks.

The three don’t notice when Mikasa arrives. They’re too busy staring at the fish swimming back and forth in the tank without a care in the world. The fish can’t grasp the fact that the world is ending. After all, their world only consists of the four glass walls that encase them and anything outside doesn’t concern them. It’s only when the door to the room opens and Mikasa steps in that the three realize that she’s returned. The fish, however, just keep swimming.

“That’s a nice way to spend the end of the world,” Mikasa comments. She has a tired smile on her face. She wears a soft cream-colored turtleneck, a long black coat hanging over her arm. “I see Gabi has joined us. As has her friend.” The woman nods at Falco.

“H-hello,” Falco stammers. He’s not sure what he was expecting Mikasa to look like. Perhaps like a woman with all the answers, someone who looked like she had seen the world, but she doesn’t. She just looks like any other woman, maybe a little more tired than other women, but still just a normal person. She doesn’t look like she has an amazing superpower, but then again neither does Gabi nor any of the potential candidates that claimed to have powers. “I’m Falco.”

“Ah, yes,” Mikasa says with a nod. “Gabi mentioned you before. I’m Mikasa, her mentor.” She drapes her coat over a nearby chair and walks over to join the three of them beside the fish tank.

“Did you find anyone?” Gabi asks. She looks out towards the living room, craning her neck to see if Mikasa had brought someone they didn’t notice.

“No, nobody that could save the world, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mikasa sighs, shoulder slumped. “Although, I did run into a guy who was convinced that the only way to save the world was to destroy it. I got away from him as quickly as possible.”

“Probably a smart decision,” Armin says with a nod, and Mikasa smiles in reply.

“Well, shall we go watch the end of the world together?” Mikasa asks, putting an arm around Gabi. She looks around at the others. “I heard it was going to be quite spectacular. Like a meteor show in the middle of the day.” Her eyes settle on Falco and her smile begins to falter. Her brows knit together and she opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something.

Armin notices the change in her demeanor and looks back and forth between Falco and Mikasa. “What’s wrong? Are you …?” It seems like something clicks in his head and he quickly turns to Falco. With a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Armin asks quickly, “Falco, do you have a power you haven’t told us about?”

The question startles Falco and he jerks away from Armin’s hand in surprise. “I … I don’t know,” he says, stumbling over his words. He’s never felt like he had any kind of superpower. He’s never shown any sign of being special. He’s always just been … normal.

“You … do you not know?” Mikasa asks, her eyebrows raised. She looks at Gabi. “Falco can save the world.”

It’s too much for Falco to take in when the world is about to end so soon. He has too many questions like: What power is he supposed to have? How come he didn’t know about it before? Is there still time to save everyone or is it too late? He opens his mouth to ask, not knowing which one will come out of his mouth first, when he feels a comforting hand on his elbow. Falco looks over to see Gabi standing beside him, somehow calm despite this revelation.

“What’s his power, Mikasa?”

“He can travel back in time,” Mikasa says, still staring at Falco with her intense gaze. “Under the event of an unexpected death like, say, getting hit by an asteroid, he can go back in time and prevent it from happening. But only if he remembers that it will happen in the first place.” Her eyes flicker towards Gabi for some reason.

“What … what does that mean ‘only if I remember’?” Falco asks Gabi.

Gabi’s biting down on her lip, expression contemplative. Finally, she tells Falco, “My power is that I’m unforgettable. If you reset your time after the meteor hits, usually you won't remember what happened, but you will if I use my power. You’d be able to remember me and everything we’ve done together. If you go back in time, maybe you can find a way to save the world because you’ll know what to expect.”

“Then … then that’s good news!” He doesn’t know why everyone around him isn’t jumping up and down in excitement right now. They’ve found a way to save the world. If not this time, then the next time or the time after that. “Isn’t this good news?”

“I mean, it is,” Gabi says. She doesn’t sound as confident as she usually does. Instead, she’s hesitant, almost shy. Falco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gabi shy before. She’s looking at the floor now, kicking at the hardwood floor with her sock-clad feet. “It’s just that … I have to make you fall in love with me to make you remember me.”

Falco’s mouth falls open and no words come out.

“It’s not like it’s hard,” Gabi says almost hurriedly, more because she’s embarrassed than in a rush to save the world. She’s shed off her embarrassment and assumed her usual confident demeanor. “I’m very lovable, you know. It’s just …” Her voice trails off again.

“She has to seal it with a kiss,” Mikasa finishes, and Falco can see why Gabi was so embarrassed. His cheeks redden just from the thought of kissing Gabi. Mikasa adds rather apologetically, “It’s just the way it works, her power. She needs to kiss you.”

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course,” Gabi adds. She’s still avoiding his gaze, her eyes on the floor. “I’m fine if you’d rather not. You might just be stuck in the loop all by yourself. It’d be a little less painful since you won’t remember each time but still -”

“I’m okay with it,” Falco says.

Gabi looks up, surprised. “You are?”

“Yeah,” Falco says. “I’m … I’m fine with it. Let’s save the world. Together. That’s what our entire plan was, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Gabi repeats and she smiles. It’s different from how she’s smiled at him before. It’s a little bit bashful, a little bit excited. It looks nice on her, Falco thinks, and he’s so distracted that he’s surprised when he realizes she’s holding his hand.

Mikasa tugs at the elbow of Armin’s cardigan and the blond man nods. Taking Mikasa’s hand, he turns to the kids and says, “We’ll be out there just to give you two some privacy. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon.”

The door shuts softly behind the two adults. Falco doesn’t know if they wait in the living room or if they’ve gone outside to admire the sky. From the window, Falco can see that the sky has changed from a burnt orange to an explosion of different colors: shades of violet, pink, blue, and yellow all together almost like a watercolor painting. There are streaks of white in the sky. It’s like a meteor shower in the middle of the day just as Mikasa had said.

When he turns to Gabi, she’s looking at him with her hand still holding his. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, but she smiles when she sees he’s looking at her.

“Are you still up for it?” Gabi asks.

“Y-yeah,” Falco says, his voice cracking. He feels his face flush, but he likes the sound of Gabi’s giggle even if he’s the one she’s laughing at. He licks his lips nervously and leans in just the tiniest bit. “Is … is it okay if I kiss you?”

Gabi bites her lip and nods. She leans in too and Falco takes it as his cue to close his eyes and close the gap.

He doesn’t know what to expect from this kiss. Maybe warm lips pressing against his while his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Maybe Gabi’s hands gripping his arms while his hands hover awkwardly around his waist. Maybe the world ending and, when his eyes open, Falco waking to thoughts of Gabi and how to find her next. But none of this happens. Instead, Gabi puts her hands on his shoulder and pushes him gently but firmly away.

“I can’t do it,” Gabi says.

“Wha-?”

“I can’t do it,” Gabi repeats with a shake of her head. She looks upset, but Falco doesn’t know why. He wonders what it is he did to offend her. Maybe she doesn’t want to kiss him. Maybe she finds him repulsive and doesn’t want to kiss him even if it means saving the world. Falco thinks this would be the case if Gabi didn’t look so apologetic. “I can’t kiss you. Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” Falco asks, panicked. He takes a glance at the window. Outside, the meteors in the sky look brighter. It’s like a million stars are falling to the earth. It’s only a matter of time before the world ends. He doesn’t know why Gabi is doing this.

“I don’t want to kiss you just to save the world and I don’t want you to kiss me for the same reason,” Gabi says, taking a step away from him. She shakes her head, tears pricking her eyes. “I want you to kiss me because you like me, not because you have some responsibility to save the earth so … so find me again and kiss me. Find me again and tell me you like me and kiss me hard. And then … and then we can save the world.”

But he wants to kiss her now. He wants to kiss her because he likes her. He wants to kiss her because the world is ending. He wants to kiss her even if the world isn’t ending. He wants to tell her that, but he doesn’t have the words.

Ever since Mikasa had revealed Falco’s power, everything has suddenly made sense to him. Falco understands now why his life felt so empty before he met Gabi and why he never felt the desire to do anything. He knows why he was so drawn to her when they first met that day in the city and why he felt like she completed him. It’s because they were meant to meet each other, meant to be together, meant to save the world.

Falco wants to kiss her so badly. He wants to hold Gabi’s face in his hands and put his lips on hers and kiss her until the world ends and when he wakes up again he’ll find her and kiss her again and again and again. He wants to tell her he likes her now and that he’ll like her again. He wants to tell her that he’d like her even if the world weren’t about to end, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t get to tell her anything.

A bright light flashes from the window. All Falco sees is Gabi and then white, and then nothing.

»»————- March 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes up and rolls out of bed. He brushes his teeth in the bathroom and brushes out his hair before blearily heading down the stairs where his mom is making breakfast. His father hasn’t left for work yet, he notices, which is rather strange. His mother hasn’t finished making breakfast yet and his brother isn’t dressed for school. He stares at them, wondering why they’re acting so odd. It takes them a moment to realize he’s there.

“The world is ending next month,” his mother tells him. She points at the TV screen that Falco’s father is staring at. On it flashes a picture of an asteroid hurtling towards the earth. The little banner underneath the picture says it’s far too big to burn up in the atmosphere. Scientists have no hope of human survival.

“If I knew, I would have slept in,” Colt mumbles.

His family looks shocked by the news, but Falco doesn’t feel anything. He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and starts to head out the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Colt asks him.

Falco pauses by the door. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment. He’s not sure what to do now that the world is ending. There isn’t anything in particular that he wants to do. “I’ll go to school, I guess.”

He leaves after assuring his parents that it’s fine, that he really doesn’t mind going to school because he isn’t sure what else to do. He stops by his mailbox and looks up at the sky. It’s clear and blue, no asteroid in sight.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it. It sounds like a sigh.

#falbi #snk #sf8 au #falco grice #gabi braun

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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MTTT AU ft. Padmé in PJs eating take out aka Chapter 7: A Connection - Padmé

Padmé had known from the first moment on that a secret relationship wouldn’t be easy to manage, no matter how used she was to keeping quiet and handling too many duties at once.

All Anakin and she had were stolen moments in the shadows, here and there a few hours in her apartment, and maybe, if she got a little reckless again and had a stroke of luck, a shared mission.

Padmé missed her husband, she did, but they had chosen this fate themselves and now they had to carry its burden. Maybe once the war was over, something would change. They hadn’t talked about it yet, not really, there had never been the time for it. Not to mention, who wanted to think of the hassle that was people’s expectations of them when they could instead make the best they were given at the present. She dared to imagine soft afternoons on Naboo at times, when she was still in bed, sleep chasing her, but that was about it.

Maybe Anakin would leave the Order for her, maybe Padmé would… She didn’t even know what she could do. She just knew that it couldn’t go on like this, not until the end of time. She wanted to show Anakin off to her family, tell them what an amazing husband she had and she wanted to go dancing with him, have a meal at a fancy restaurant, and return to Naboo with him for at least the High Holy Days to watch the fireworks and put candles on the lakes.

But not right now, nothing was possible right now. They were at war and Padmé shouldn’t indulge in such flimsy dreams. Unfortunately, when she was close to Anakin, it was so easy to get lost in dreams.

Anakin wasn’t here right now, but weeks away, somewhere in the Outer Rim, fighting yet another endless battle whose victory never seemed to matter too much in the long run.

The more war reports she read and the more she fought in the Senate, the more convinced did Padmé become that they were sending the Jedi out to fight for nothing. The thought of losing Anakin to this senseless war made her stomach turn. Padmé worried about him constantly. She knew he was strong, the Republic hadn’t dubbed him its Hero with no Fear for nothing after all, but she knew better.

Anakin was afraid all the time, sometimes so much that it stopped him from speaking, left him haunted by nightmares he couldn’t shake.

When she asked about it, he quickly switched the topic. Padmé knew that she ought to do better and get Anakin to talk to her, but she was only human and a relationship always required two people doing their best.

And it required that they actually had time to talk.

Padmé glanced at her datapad. Its screen was still dark, taunting her. It had been a month since Anakin’s last message. They tried to message each other as often as possible, exchanging I love yous coded into descriptions of flowers and ship parts. They had to be careful, could never say a word too much that could be used against them at a later date. Nobody was to discover their secrets and so Padmé spun lies upon lies to keep everybody unaware.

She wondered what lies Anakin told Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and every other member of his Order. When the war had just started, Padmé hadn’t been too kind to the Jedi, thinking of their rules as strict and their prohibitions as arbitrary, but more and more she was coming to understand that there was a reason for it all.

You could not be a devout Jedi and pour everything into serving the Republic and then still give everything you have for a family outside of the Order. While it had taken her a while to realize it, Padmé could empathize with the sentiment. It was very much the same with her and her family. Each time they asked her to come home, Padmé still picked the Senate over them. She had a duty to the galaxy and if the price for it was this isolation from them, then she could bear it. She had her allies and friends here on Coruscant, her sisters in all but blood, and she had Anakin.

When he was there.

And actually replied to her message.

She hadn’t heard any great news about him or the 501st at large. As far as she was aware, they were still operating as always, running their missions and following orders. Anakin couldn’t be dead, the Republic would be in an uproar.

The thought was a bittersweet relief at least. She couldn’t even count the times she had thought Anakin dead on two hands anymore. He was always in so much danger – she constantly feared that today would be the day he wouldn’t return to her anymore.

If he died tomorrow, what were the last words they exchanged? The last kiss they had shared? Padmé didn’t want to think of herself as fair Veré, who thought of herself as the widow of Set who had gone to live amongst the stars long before her dear husband actually had.

She shook her head. She shouldn’t think so negatively. She had thousands of other things to worry about. New bills, the assassin that was after her and had somehow managed to poison her favorite dessert – she couldn’t spare more than one moment’s thought on the state of her husband.

She was never just Anakin Skywalker’s wife.

She didn’t want to be.

Padmé had always been a greedy child, though her parents had liked to call her ambitious instead. Padmé had wanted to do good and she had wanted to do it herself. She was unsure whether it was that she didn’t trust others enough for it or if a lothcat just couldn’t change its spots, but even when she let herself be distracted by sweet kisses, half her mind was somewhere else.

One of these days it was going to be too much.

Padmé stood up from her sofa, throwing another glance at her traitorous datapad before sighing, then she walked into the kitchen, searching for something edible after a long day. There she went to open her fridge, trying to find something good and fresh to eat, only to be severely disappointed. Her fridge was a sad and desolate space, stocked with only one take-out container and two fruits that were already starting to look moldy. Padmé vaguely recalled how well-stocked her fridge had been with delicacies from Naboo when she had started her term as a Senator. Imports from her homeworld had become extremely expensive.

Padmé was almost a little ashamed to admit she wouldn’t mind accepting one of Palpatine’s dinner proposals only to get her hands on one of the parfaits she used to stuff her mouth with as a kid.

Once Anakin was back, she’d get him to cook something for her. She hadn’t expected him to be good at it, but he was a surprisingly great cook. On the few days they had had on Naboo together after Geonosis, he had pretty much taken over the kitchen within minutes of seeing her attempt at cutting an onion. He had still required her presence and aid at times, unused to his new prosthetic, but even then he had given her instructions on how to properly cut vegetables and fruits. Padmé had never been someone for cooking, it was a trouble and she had never had the time to learn. Perhaps she should start to, people did say that stress baking helped, though she wouldn’t know where to fit a cooking class into her busy schedule.

In the end, Padmé grabbed the take-out box from Dex’s – her new favorite place to order food at – and warmed it up. After it was done, she considered putting the contents of the box on a plate to make it look like she had put at least some effort into the meal. Demotivated she looked at the white container. If she grabbed a plate, she’d just have to clean that as well and there was no point to it if it was really just her. Padmé fished a fork out of her drawer and walked back to her living room. She didn’t even bother sitting down at her dinner table and instead got comfortable on her couch. What a mighty picture she made, former Queen of Naboo, slouching on her sofa, eating takeout in her PJs like an overworked university student.

Not that Padmé really knew what university life was like. Her handmaidens and she had been educated by private tutors who had given them an extensive overview in whatever subjects they needed or desired. As Padmé dug into her food, she considered whether the time she had needed to read up on archeology digs on Archeron Prime 2 in five minutes because nobody else had wanted to deal with ancient sites conversation and so had dumped it on her, had been similar enough to the common student experience.

Padmé was contemplating turning on a holomovie when finally, after weeks, her datapad chimed with a light ringtone, one she had assigned only to one person.

As quickly as possible, she shoved her food off her legs and reached for datapad. She hadn’t even swallowed her food completely when she hit the accept for the incoming call. Finally, Anakin had had the time to call her. She had so much she wanted to tell him-

“Senator Amidala?”

Padmé stared at the small blue hologram that very much did not depict her husband, but instead his young and small Padawan, looking as exhausted as Padmé felt.

Suddenly, Padmé became all too aware of her looks.

She took pride in her dresses, it was part of Naboo custom and one’s appearance in the public sphere was immensely important. She didn’t exactly look like a dedicated politician right now.

“Padawan Tano,” Padmé greeted Ahsoka, hoping her formal tone could save the situation at least a little. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”

Inwardly, Padmé cringed. Great, of course, she had to imply that she had thought she could answer Anakin’s call dressed like this. The day was just getting better and better. She couldn’t wait for it to be over.

If Ahsoka had anything to say about the way Padmé dressed, she didn’t let it show.

“I know, I’m sorry for calling you at this hour from my Master’s device, I wanted to talk to you and I didn’t have your number,” the youngling sounded like she was honestly sorry about it.

Padmé’s face softened. “There’s nothing to forgive, Ahsoka. Tell me, why are you calling me? You know I will never mind a call from you.”

“I- thank you. I’m calling about my Master.”

Ahsoka bit her lip and Padmé’s heartbeat sped up.

Oh no. Had Anakin said something? Had Ahsoka discovered their relationship? A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. This was the precise reason they were keeping it a secret still. Padmé couldn’t afford a scandal, Anakin needed to fight and they couldn’t put their friends between their duties and keeping their secret.

Well, Padmé should have known even their luck had to run out sometime.

“Ahsoka, look-“

“Did my master say anything to you before our battle on Temetha last month?” Asoka suddenly blurted out. “Anything strange? Weird? Bad?”

Their battle on-

Yes, Padmé remembered it. She had kept a keen eye on that one. It had been bound to be a difficult one according to the reports and it had also been the last major battle that Anakin had actively fought in as far as the news had been concerned. Ever since he had been on radio silence between her and Anakin. Nothing new of course, but she had still felt like something was going on behind the scenes.

“No,” Padmé said. “Nothing. Anakin and I had just talked about…”

Padmé grimaced. She was almost embarrassed to say that they had chatted about cheap romance novels and even worse holomovies. It had been such a dumb and random topic, childish almost, but it had occurred to her that she had no idea what kind of stories Anakin liked and enjoyed in his free time. They had decided to do a movie marathon the next time he was back on Coruscant, despite the fact that he desperately needed the time to recover and sleep, not spend hours awake with her.

“We talked about nothing really, just hobbies,” Padmé said. “Why? Did something happen?”

Ahsoka’s expression darkened.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she started slowly.

Padmé contemplated stopping Ahsoka right then and there. The poor teenager was going through enough, Padmé shouldn’t use her distress to her own gain, but where else was she going to get information about Anakin?

“Did something happen to Anakin?”

Ahsoka hesitated, her eyes darted to somewhere in her room that Padmé couldn’t see.

“He was injured in the aftermath of the battle,” Ahsoka revealed. “And I don’t know how. The machines say he’s fine.”

The machines. What machines? Had it been vital? Was he comatose? Was that the reason she hadn’t heard a word from him, was the army keeping it under wraps as to not cause distress? What other secrets were they hiding-

Padmé’s growing panic must have shown on her face as Ahsoka reassured her quickly.

“He’s fine now! Or as fine as he can be at least. He won’t talk to me about anything anymore. Obi-Wan’s training me right now too because Anakin can’t.”

Padmé’s thoughts traveled to those days on Naboo in the aftermath of Geonosis. Anakin’s hadn’t been given the time he needed to recover properly and get used to his new prosthetic before he’d been sent out to fight in the front and yet, somehow, he was one of their strongest fighters. Had he lost another limb? How many weeks would they give him off this time if it had already been a month?

“I just thought you might know something,” Ahsoka finally finished. “Master Skywalker speaks very highly of you, you’re friends?”

“Very close friends, yes,” Pamdé told Ahsoka. “We met when we were just children. Anakin helped my planet considerably at the time.”

“Really?” Ahsoka asked, light returning to her eyes.

Perhaps Padmé would have to call Obi-Wan later, or see if she could get someone to tell her what was truly going on with the 501st.

Until then she had a Padawan to calm down.

“I can’t believe Anakin never shared this story with you. Let me tell you all about it,” Padmé said. “I was 14 and had been elected the Queen of Naboo…”

Padmé ended up talking for hours or so it felt like, much longer than she did with Anakin as he hardly had the time for it. When Padmé was done talking about her and Anakin’s first meeting and the consequent fight with the Trade Federation, she began regaling Ahsoka with more stories about her term as a queen. By the time the Padawan had to go again, Ahsoka was still bothered by her worry for her master, but at least she was smiling again.

Padmé ended the call and took a deep breath. She looked at her now cold dinner and the dark night sky.

Then she stood up and got to work.

#star wars #padmé amidala #anidala #ahsoka tano #medical trauma time travel AU #fanfic #update twice a week and then not for a month #this is just my new MO

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write-a-bad-romance · 4 years

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Napoleon x Wellington Angst Request

Ooooh good suggestion, @nuclearwinterexe! Now’s a good chance to explore Wells’ role in my modern AU.

Wells and Napo were fellow Psychology students, but then a fallout happened that ruined their relationship as well as their reputation on campus. While they do time and again after graduation, they’re both too stubborn to reconcile. Now that’s one wound that can’t heal.

So, here you go! Jealous angry disaster bi Wellington feat Napoleon x Josephine!

Rated T for cursing and deregatory words towards Modern AU!Josephine

Wellesley carefully stuffed his bag in the overhead compartment before settling into his seat. The glass on the window reflected the garish teal-pink-and neon yellow upholstery of the train seats. Not that he cared the first time.

A video on YouTube said that terrible thoughts and intrusive memories were no different than ugly train upholstery. They might hurt your eyes, but you'd have no choice but to endure the ride so long as you wanted to get from one station to the next.

But he was presented with a different kind of suffering as he reeled back to three days ago. He had confronted his (now-former, he thought bitterly) running mate, and it led into an outburst.

"What's this? Dropping out of the race? Why do I only hear of this now, Bonaparte?"

"I was going to tell you, but I was afraid you wouldn't like it—"

"Afraid, my arse! It was the backlash you were scared of, as you should be. This will not go well over our supporters and seniors, you know it."

"I'm well aware. That's why you're the first person I intended to consult first."

"The first person, eh? Too bad your friends couldn't keep mum about your little secrets since I found out about this from a junior. What was it you didn't want me to do if I found out? Hmmm?"

"That you'd feel hurt," The other man gulped, looking strangely small to Wellesley at that moment.

Hurt? As if I needed your protection from anything, he thought with ire.

Wellesley's icy blue eyes bore into emerald ones. He was appalled by the lack of luster in those orbs.

"Oh, just be frank now," he spat. "What did that snake of a woman tell you this time?"

Wellesley was never one to let his emotions spill. He was used to being ignored by his family, and in turn, he ignored them. The Irishman took pride in his unbroken character and iron will.

Qualities he believed had drawn Bonaparte in.

Bonaparte. Brilliant Bonaparte. Straightforward and ambitious, rightfully so. He had the intelligence and charm to bend fate to his will, to get the entire student body bow under his heels. Wellesley was a lawful man, and the image of Napoleon pulling on the faculty's rein disturbed a part of his rationale.

Another sick part directed him to play the hero and aid Bonaparte from the shadows, acting as the righteous voice of reason for the hotheaded prodigy. It led them both on a campaign to install Bonaparte as president of the Student Board, with Wellesley by his side as his vice president.

But dreams remained dreams as the once-promising Corsican grew more and more yielding to his pet. The slag who poured poison into Bonaparte's ears and leading him to gradually abandon their grand pursuit.

Oblivious to the man in question himself, Wellesley and de Beauharnais engaged in a secret battle over Bonaparte's time and focus.

(But this was a lost cause, that much Wellesley eventually came to understand. He became more of a stranger to Bonaparte than when they first met.)

What was he to Bonaparte, anyway?

Now and then, there seemed to be a distance that Wellesley could never cover. They started unaware of each other's presence, with him only catching rumors of a gifted, older student despite being in the same year. When he first met Bonaparte, they were introduced by a senior whom he admired greatly.

The senior never stopped heaping praises on Bonaparte. Despite his shy and (sickeningly) humble facade, there was a sharpness that reminded Wellesley of a hawk's.

Fate seemed to enjoy toying with Wellesley, for Bonaparte was every bit the kind of person he wanted to avoid, but endured anyway. He loathed how the man effortlessly wormed his way into everybody's heart, making them nod and listen to his whims.

At the same time, Bonaparte was... intimidating, for a better lack of words. His formidability was a razor-sharp edge to anyone who dared to even think about harming him in the slightest.

Hell, he just knew Bonaparte could make the Dean himself cry if he wanted to.

Wellesley supposed he was lucky (and somewhat offended) that the star of the campus deigned to welcome him into his circle. The British was never comfortable surrounded by his irritating, mooching lackeys. They were an eyesore, though he was smart to feign friendliness.

What mattered most was Bonaparte. And it was rewarding, bargaining for an ally, and getting a friend instead. He understood what his juniors saw in Bonaparte. The man offered kindness and comfort his family seldom gave.

(Brotherly affection wasn't something he'd pin on his relationship with Bonaparte or the man with anyone else for that matter. His warmth filled more than just the void often left vacant by his siblings. And judging from Lanne's adoration that veered on lovesickness, Wellesley wasn't the only one).

A shame he decided to let the har— woman into his life.

For Bonaparte’s sake, Wellesley had willingly been turning a blind eye on gossip surrounding the campus' so-called femme fatale, along with talks of de Beauharnais seemingly derailing Bonaparte from their campaign.

That is, until the very same senior who had introduced the two men voiced the same concerns.

Very little could shake the adamant Wellesley, yet the possibility of losing Bonaparte was enough to cause him to lose sleep for days on end. He hated it. He hated how the man could go on his way with his squeeze and not realizing it would mean the end for Wellesley.

The end of them.

I built and shaped him into the way he is, Wellesley mused. Yet you unmade him, bent, and folded him into something I never hoped to see.

Growing weary of his thoughts, Wellesley fished out his earphones from his pocket and shoved them roughly into his ears. He'd rather listen to some criminal psychologist talk murder than indulging his brain into committing further character assassination.

Terrible thoughts are ugly upholstery in a passenger car, and you can't run around trying to remove them from the entire train if you want to get to the next station.

But if Wellesley had a choice, he'd rather burn them down.

This was supposed to be short and sad but it turned longer and angrier the more I wrote through Wellesley’s POV. This turned out so vitriolic and I’m sorry.

You either live long enough to be Napoleon's longtime friend or turn into one of his bitter exes. There is no middle ground.

Tagging @batteryrose (in case you want to see Wells being a petty ex), @kisara-16, @thedollarstoresatan, @ikesensrandomninjagirl24, @hokkaido-the-hellbeast, @nafeary, @thesirenwashere

(Please notify me if you’re interested in seeing more Napolington works)

#ikemen vampire #ikevam napoleon #ikevam wellington #napolington #ikevam fanfic #requests #this isn't angst this is outright anger

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sparky-is-spiders · 4 years

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So. About that PoT and OotS Rewrite...

This is that PoT OotS rewrite I was talkin’ about earlier. Some stuff has changed.

I’ma start with Lionblaze, because I find the concept for his character to be the most interesting.

Lionblaze: From a young age, Lionblaze is kinda a prodigy. He’s an excellent fighter and hunter and everybody is convinced that he’s gonna be a great warrior, maybe even deputy. He IS the son of the current deputy and the grandson of the current leader, after all. When the Clan hears about the prophecy from Jayfeather, Lionblaze and everybody else is so certain that he’ll play a starring role in it. He hasn’t discovered his powers yet, the way Jayfeather and Hollyleaf have, but he’s convinced that they’ll reveal themselves. It’ll happen annny day now, he’s sure of it.

But he never gets any powers. Sure, he’s a skilled warrior, but it’s pretty obvious that that’s all he’ll ever be. He manages to hold out hope until he’s assigned Dovepaw as his apprentice. Dovepaw, who can read moods so easily. She appears in his dreams one day, and that’s when he realizes: he isn’t anything special, and he never was. He was always just another warrior, while Jayfeather and Hollyleaf keep moving on ahead. He becomes distant from his siblings and clanmates, and struggles to mentor the cat who took his place and the powers that were supposed to be his. This is when he’s recruited to the Dark Forest. Soon, he realizes what their plans are (more on those later), and he and Ivypaw team up to become spies and maybe sabatoge their plans before its too late. They tell their siblings everything they know, and the bridges that Lionblaze burned start to mend. He realizes that, even without powers, he’s still important, and he can still play a role in stopping the Dark Forest.

Jayfeather: Jayfeather is distant from everyone and always has been. He can sometimes be seen talking to cats that aren’t there, and he can predict some events with startling accuracy. Every time he sleeps, he hears thousands of different prophecies, and he can never tell if they’re important or not. But there’s one that he hears, over and over and over again. There shall be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their paws. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know why he hears it so often. He’s still a kit at this point, and one day Squirrelflight (who’s visiting them in the nursury), hears him murmuring it in his sleep. She takes him to see Leafpool, who takes him to see Firestar. He is told in no uncertain terms that he will be a medicine cat. Firestar announces this prophecy to the whole clan, declaring his three grandkits to be the three in the prophecy. Some are skeptical, but between Hollykit’s supersenses and Jaykit’s strong connection to StarClan, they slowly become convinced.

As Jaykit becomes Jaypaw, life becomes even harder for him. The ghosts of old medicine cats are always whispering rebukes and advice and stories in his ears, and all he wants is for them to shut. Up. He has constant visions in his dreams of things that have happened, things that are happening, and things that will happen. When he first visits the Moonpool, the voices in his head become so loud that he flees. He hates going to the Moonpool, and dreads the night of the half moon. It never gets easier.

Jayfeather gets on fine with Lionblaze, but he’s much closer with his sister. Hollyleaf has similar problems to him because of her super senses, and the two often sneak out of camp to find the quietest parts of the forest. They then spend hours sitting beside one another, basking in the pleasent silence and stillness. Lionblaze joins them every now and then, but he often gets restless and leaves. This habit starts during their apprenticeships, but continues well into their adulthood.

As the Dark Forest battle approaches, Jayfeather gets more and more visions about it. He sees thousands of different outcomes. He watches his clanmates win and lose and live and die. At first he throws himself into his work to avoid thinking about it, but he doesn’t succeed. Eventually he just holes himself up in his den, rarely eating or drinking, and fighting himself to keep his eyes open. The instant they close, even just to blink, more images flash across his mind. When he hears about what Lionblaze and Ivypaw/pool are doing, he freaks out even more. Finally, he breaks down and tells them what he’s been seeing in his dreams. When the invasion finally happens, Jayfeather is able to guide the clans into making the best, least damaging and most effective choices.Warriors still die, sure, but it isn’t the massacre he saw happening so often in his dreams.

Hollyleaf (and also the entire plot, apparently): Hollykit has always been a nosy busybody. It doesn’t help that she can hear every conversation every cat has ever had within the clan territories. She is a firm believer in the Warrior Code, and she believes that her power was gifted to her by StarClan in order to make sure that everybody follows the code. She’s ambitious, with plans to become leader in order to enforce the code. The Dark Forest tries to recruit her, but she knows who Tigerstar and Thistleclaw are. She knows what they did. She refuses to compromise her morals for the sake of her ambitions. She’ll become leader without the help of murdery rulebreakers no. 1 and 2, thank you very much.

The prophecy just strengthens her convictions. She was chosen by StarClan! She and her siblings will save the clans from themselves. She can already see it! Hollystar, noble leader of ThunderClan, with Lionkit as her loyal deputy and Jayfeather as her noble medicine cat. She’s a little jealous of Lionblaze, popular golden boy. But that’s fine. They’ll see her worth in time. They’ll all see.

When she hears the truth of her parentage she has a breakdown. How can she uphold the Warrior Code if her very existance breaks it? She does not kill Ashfur, but she does flee into the night. She travels to the Tribe, joining their ranks and becoming a Prey-hunter. All is well for moons and moons and moons, until a certain gray apprentice is born and Yellowfang visits Hollyleaf in her dreams. Yellowfang essentially tells Hollyleaf to get her head out of her ass. The last member of the three is born, and it’s time for Hollyleaf to return home. She talks to Stoneteller about her dream, and Stoneteller tells her that the angry cat with poor dental hygene is right: Hollyleaf has been an admirable member of the Tribe, but her place is and always has been with her clanmates and her siblings. Hollyleaf says goodbye to Stormfur and Brook (who she was good friends with) and she leaves.

She fully intended to go back to ThunderClan, but then she hears something going on in WindClan. Dissent. Rebellion. And, worst of all, mentions of the dark forest and the cats training there.

Onestar is an ineffective leader, and cats are starting to take notice. They hate his stupid wars and assholish attitude. He never listens to any of them! And he puts his own pride before the needs of the Clan. The younger WindClan warriors and apprentices are convinced that Onestr is horrible. A pair of charismatic young tom by the name of Houndleap has promised to make them strong. Houndleap will help them rise up against Onestar and replace him with a real leader, like Breezepelt, who seems to hate Onestar the most.

The older warriors don’t like Onestar to much either, but the whispers of these young cats scare them. Surely they wouldn’t murder a leader? Even if he was a terrible one like Onestar. Isn’t it lucky that they have a cat like Snowtuft to rely on? One who shows them how to defend their leader, and which cats they can’t trust? So handy! Sure, he’s in the Dark Forest, but he just wants to help. And he can’t have been that evil, or they would’ve heard of him, they way they know Tigerstar and Brokenstar.

Hollyleaf hears these whispers and hushed conversations, and she knows what she has to do. She has to save WindClan and Onestar! And that’s how she finds herself in the WindClan camp, requesting an audience with Onestar.

She’s obviously not welcome in WindClan, but Onestar doesn’t care. She’s one of the ThunderClan prophecy cats! Firestar’s precious grandkit is in WindClan, offering to become a WindClan warrior. Onestar couldn’t resist this brilliant opportunity to one-up ThunderClan and Firestar. Hollyleaf is now Hollystorm, warrior of WindClan and right hand man of Onestar.

Her relationship with Crowfeather could generously be described as frosty. Her relationship with Nightcloud is a dumpster full of turds that is on fire. Her relationship with Breezepelt is a planet made of turds that’s flying into the sun. Her relationship with Heathertail is... complicated. They hate each other, except they seem to be the only two cats who want to help Onestar (I really ike ace!Hollyleaf/storm, but I also kinda like Hollyheather in this specific AU. They hat each other, but at the same time, they’re the only ones they can trust, and I love that dynamic. But I also like Heatherbreeze! AHHHHHH).

Hollystorm’s place in WindClan came with a few caveats, of course. First: she couldn’t talk to anyone from ThunderClan, ever. Second: She had to swear on her life to defend Onestar at all costs. And third: she would spy on the other clans. She hates spying, and she tries to be as unhelpful as possible, but it’s a careful balancing act, and sometimes she has to bite the bullet. She’s doing the right thing, she’s sure of it. But she’s equally sure that she’s doing it the wrong way. And she’s also sure that Onestar was a horrible choice as a leader!

During her time in WindClan, she bonds with Ashfoot. She respects the wise and intelligent deputy, who seems to hold on to her convictions even while dealing with Onestar. Hollystorm tells Ashfoot why she joined WindClan, and the deputy develops a huge amount of respect for her. This warrior had the ground ripped from beneath her paws. She left her home and her family, and when she decided to return, she realized that something was wrong, and she chose her principals and doing the right thing over her old friends and family. As both are certain that Onestar would be hugely offended by the idea that amybody would dare rebel against him OR that he would banish half of WindClan, they decide to team up and take matters into their own paws. They try to get the other warriors on their side. Roughly half of the older warriors and a few of the younger ones agree to stop seeing their Dark Forest friends. But many WindClanners are still visiting with Houndleap and Snowtuft. Hollystorm and Ashfur realize that, if they want to save WindClan, they’re gonna have to take matters into their own paws. It’s time to pay ThunderClan a visit.

Both Ashfoot and Hollystorm hate the idea of going behind Onestar’s back, but they need advice. Hollystorm has heard conversations had by her siblings, heard Firestar’s gathering announcements about the Dark Forest. ThunderClan knows something Hollystorm doesn’t, and she needs to learn what it is fast. Things are speeding up, the WindClan warriors are getting ready for another civil war...

They request an audience with Firestar in the middle of the night, and it is granted begrudgingly. Hollystorm tells them about the unrest in WindClan, and Firestar tells her everything he knows about the Dark Forest. Lionblaze, Ivypaw, and Dovewing join them and tell them all about what Tigerstar and Thistleclaw are doing. Hollystorm is horrified to hear about this. She always thought of Lionblaze as whiny, egotistical, and spoiled (even though she loved him). As awful as she feels, hearing about the ways in which he’s risking his life and reputation, she’s also so proud of him. Together, they realize that the Dark Forest is in every clan. How could they not be? Firestar decides to call an emergency gathering.

Before they leave the camp, Hollystorm demands to see Jayfeather. She was always so close to him, and the fact that he was not at the meeting concerns her. When she hears about how isolated he’s become, she is shocked and appaled and she races into the medicine den. They get into an arguement over, well, everything that’s happened to them. When they finally finish yelling at each other, Hollystorm takes a deep breath and apologizes. She relays the things she’s learned about the Dark Forest in WindClan, and Jayfeather tells finally breaks. He confesses to the others about the visions that haunt his mind day and night.

They leave before the sun rises so that they don’t get caught by Onestar. Ashfoot sends Hollystorm back to her den. Later that day Ashfoot tells Onestar that she met with Firestar, and that the ThunderClan leader has called for an emergency gathering. Onestar is furious. How dare his deputy betray him like this?!? She does her best to calm him down, tells him about the Dark Forest cats who are manipulating his warriors, and he makes his decision. Every WindClan warrior who he doesn’t trust is to be exiled. In other words, half the clan (including Ashfoot) is getting kicked out. Nobody is happy.

The exiled cats refuse to leave. They dedicate their lives to WindClan, and this asshole kicks them out because of what his deputy says??? No. No no no no no. Not happening. Several of the older warriors who are still meeting with Snowtuft are among the crowd being exiled, and they have had enough. They were going to defend Onestar, but maybe he doesn’t deserve that if he’s gonna make stupid decisions like this. It isn’t long until a fight breaks out.

Hollystorm and Ashfoot are conflicted. Onestar has truly hit rock bottom, but they hate the idea of fighting against him. They eventually choose to fight against him. They hate the idea of turning on a leader, but Onestar has proven to be undeserving of his place.

Onestar and his defenders lose. The young warriors choose Breezepelt as their leader. Breezepelt hates Hollystorm for her heritage, and he hates Ashfoot for being Onestar’s deputy. Both are exiled, along with Onestar’s remaining supporters. They go to the gathering island for the emergency gathering.

The three clans and the WindClan exiles (minus a few who are sticking wih Onestar) meet to discuss the Dark Forest issue. Hollystorm notes that many of the other clans are expiriencing unrest, including ThunderClan.

The other clan leaders are shocked by what happened in WindClan and afraid of what Breezepelt might do at Houndleap’s demand. Several members of the other Clans confess to being visited by Dark Forest cats. Hawkfrost and Mapleshade are in RiverClan, and Clawface and Brokenstar are in ShadowClan. The clans realize that the Dark Forest is using them and tearing them apart to weaken them so that when they strike, the clans will be fractured and weak.

The clans unite as one under the joint leadership of Blackstar, Firestar, and Mistystar, with promises to keep each other updated. Warriors are encouraged to stop meeting with the Dark Forest cats, and to report everything they know to their leaders.

The Dark Forest, realizing that the clans are prepared for them and no longer fractured, decide to change tactics. Hollystorm spies on WindClan, discovering that Breezestar has invited many rogues and loners into WindClan to replenish their ranks for the coming war. WindClan patrols routinely invade the territories of the other clans, stealing prey and attacking patrols. Hollystorm can hear them approaching, and Jayfeather can predict the most likely attacks, but cats still die.

Soon, the other clans decide that enough is enough. They decide to ambush WindClan under the cover of darkness on the night of the new moon. While they’re at it, they send out a group to search for Onestar. But when they enter the camp, they find it deserted. The WindClan medicine cat, Antpelt, warned of their approach, and the cats are all set for an ambush, so silent that not even Hollystorm can detect their presence. Jayfeather bursts into the camp and warns then to retreat just before the WindClan warriors leap out of the shadows.

The combined might of the clans is not enough to fight of WindClan, not with its new rogue army, not during a surprise attack. They suffer heavy losses and retreat.

Jayfeather warns them that the Dark Forest is liable to strike back any day. The clans are weakened, and they have many warriors at their command. The clans move to the ThunderClan camp. It’s small but easily defendable, and they set to work shoring up its defenses.

Hollystorm misses WindClan, she finds. She didn’t notice, but it grew on her. She suspects that, once this whole mess dies down, she may return. She’s given up completely on her dreams of leadership. ThunderClan doesn’t feel like home anymore, not the way WindClan’s moors did. And Onestar would probably never even take her back, nevermind appoint her as his deputy. But she’s still determined to be the best warrior she can be. Maybe she can’t be a leader, and maybe the clans don’t need to be saved from themselves, but they do need her to do the right thing. Not spying or accusing cats of breaking the code, but fighting the real threats, the real dangers. She needs to save the clans from the Dark Forest, to take WindClan back from Breezestar, and make sure that it doesn’t fall into the claws of Onestar. Because sometimes the code can be wrong, and sometimes a bad leader needs to go.

Before the battle, Jayfeather tells her not to protect him. If she tries, she will die. She promises not to, but plans to try anyway.

She’s able to warn the clans of the approach of WindClan and the Dark Forest. The ThunderClan camp becomes a bloodbath, and Hollystorm finds herself in the middle of it. She moves to the medicine den, defending the medicine cats, the injured, the elders, and the kits. She fights side-by-side with Lionblaze and Ivypool. When Hawkfrost confronts them, she kills him, but is seriously injured in the process. She is brought into the medicine den for healing. Jayfeather is furious that she didn’t listen to him and terrified that she might die. The voices of those ancient medicine cats whisper in his ear, but this time they help him focus. They guide him gently and he manages to save her.

Onestar and Breezestar fight it out too. Just when it looks like Breezestar is about to lose, several WindClan warriors pounce on Onestar. He is killed multiple times, and soon his soul departs to StarClan.

Firestar still has his dramatic confrontaion with Tigerstar, and he still kills him. However instead of being killed by a tree, Firestar dies of the wounds he recieved in the deadly battle.

When the battle is over, the leaders demand that Breezestar step down. At first, he wants to resist, but he then realizes that many of his clanmates have either swapped sides or abandoned him entirely. He and Nightcloud abandon the clans and do not return for some time. Ashfoot becomes the new leader of WindClan, and she reunites WindClan. She names Harespring her deputy.

Hollystorm decides to follow her. She will always love her brothers, and she has finally reconciled with Squirrelflight and Leafpool after the battle, but WindClan is her home now, and she would never feel comfortable anywhere else.

Coming up soon: Dovewing, Ivypool, and some extra stuff! (What happened to Ashfur, who mentored Hollyleaf and Lionblaze, more Ashfoot stuff, etc.)

#power of three #omen of the stars #warriors #warrior cats #warrior cats au #lionblaze #hollyleaf #jayfeather #firestar #ivypool #dovewing #ashfoot #ashfoot is probably the fourth cat in this AU #I may just dump the whole fourth cat thing #it doesn't really work for any of the characters in this AU so far #the hollyleaf favoritism au

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dat-town · 4 years

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CODE Z3RO | EPILOGUE

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: a lot of depressive thoughts once again, as in the survivor’s guilt summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 1.2k tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms

➼ Chapter Index

Fear is scary.

Fear can spread like an epidemic and can kill just the same.

Choego was a brilliant and terrifying example of how fear could transform the world. What had started as one’s ambition, other’s fear turned into the nightmare of millions.

After Yerim's article finished by Jungkook had gone viral thanks to some hacking on Yoongi's part, it had been all what the world had been talking about. Even the normally technology-obsessed South-Korea had gotten scared of what artificial intelligence was capable of if not handled well. Since this project had been supposed to make the world a better and safer place, its downhill had been a real slap to its supporters. Due to the heavy protests and petitions, Cheongsan Group hadn't been able to continue the project, at least not out in plain sight. Millions of won had gone wasted to build a city that was nothing but a skeleton with its bones made of metal and glass by now. Radical protestors had burned and destroyed everything beyond Choego bridge, so it was only a pale shell of its shiny self from years back.

Steps echoed on the metal as a young boy more worn from years than he should have been crossed the bridge full of litter, posters and already burnt candles among withered flowers. He stared into the distance with a dark, remorseful look on his face and his steps became heavier and slower the closer he got to the city that had been once his dream. With each meter memories that had never left him came back to haunt him more vividly, painful memories making him grimace and grip on the bocquet of white lilies he was carrying tighter. He found the flowers quite fitting as it symbolized youth and innocence just what they had all lost on the island. So he didn't only have nine flowers but twelve and he laid it over the asphalt in front of the police cordone and stop signs.

Both the Cheongsan Group and the Korean government had compensated the families of each participant and the researchers who had lost their lives in that deadly cage. The survivors had been given generous amount of money to ensure a life without financial troubles just to keep their mouths shut about the details. There had been trials they had to go through reliving the horrific events again and again but it hadn’t been enough for the gossip-hungry reporters and film producers wanting to make a blockbuster out of their trauma. Nobody had really cared about them, just their story.

“Jungkook...”

The boy snapped his head, turning at the call of his name even though for a moment he thought he was just hallucinating. But coming face-to-face with the new arrivals, it felt like the band kind of déjavu. He hadn’t seen them since the trials had ended, the last time they had talked had been in the hospital when the stitching had been removed from Yoongi’s arm. Jungkook hadn’t stayed. He couldn’t have.

All those eyes and knowing glances at him, the pitiful looks on anyone who knew what he had been through, or at least they acted as if they understood. They could have never fully understand. The guilt, the panic rising in his blood whenever he became painfully aware of being watched. Technology had its eyes everywhere and he was still scared of it backfiring. The psychologist assigned to them had called it post-traumatic stress syndrome and prescribed some pills but those couldn’t suppress the voices in his head. Just as he would never forget the faces of Yerim’s and Seokjin’s parents when he had visited them and had gotten to his knees to ask for their forgiveness.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Yoongi whispered and patted him on the shoulder with an understanding twitch in the corner of his mouth. They all knew that they would never be able to be entirely okay. Nobody could have been after the things they had seen. But being okay was a subjective thing.

Jungkook might have left the country to live in hiding after providing enough money to his family to get by easily, but Seulgi had barely left her room anymore. In the very beginning she had lived in that eight square feet as if that had been her world. Since her mother couldn’t deal with her daughter’s depression and anxiety well, it was Yoongi who had visited them from time to time, talking to Seulgi in a gentle voice, telling her it was going to be alright and persuaded her to take a shower or to take a walk outside. She had her ups and downs, sometimes almost believing that she could be normal again after a small victory of grocery shopping and getting her favourite sweet as a treat but then she woke up screaming from a nightmare again.

Her eyes were hollow now as well as she was staring at the ashes of the city that had destroyed them. Her and Yoongi had come here every year on the anniversary of the tragedy. In the first few years, there had been others as well, some reporters lurking around and Park Jimin’s father had even sent flowers but five years had gone by and everybody seemed to forget all about it. Everybody but them.

“You came back for good?” the hacker asked the younger boy, almost man now, but Jungkook just shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, voice hoarse and deep from the misuse. He didn’t have to say it out loud that he hadn’t found his place in the world anymore, no matter where he had gone.

Yoongi acknowledged his answer with a nod, fingers twitching. From outside, he looked the most composed, the only one who could really move on but he had his own troubles. He worked from home, keeping an eye on the cyber world and getting paid by governments for security fixes but sometimes when memories clashed he had those episodes with the urge to yell and break everything in the room. Sometimes he still heard the voice of Choego’s artificial intelligence as it haunted his dreams.

They had been called the survivors of a murderer city and yet, all three of them were stuck in limbo, being half-dead inside, while the world around them argued about the newest trends, the cause behind the current inflation rate and global warming.

So the world was the same and at the same time it was different, because technology advance was not idolized anymore, some even claimed it the doing of evil. Yoongi knew well it wasn’t, no mean in itself was just as it wasn’t the Dark Middle Ages anymore. Technology and artificial intelligence could save lives, could indeed change life for the better, could help the economy, the nature, the humans, but only if it was in the right hands. Technology was power and it was always the matter of who held it and what it was used for.

In the very end, it was always the human factor that was faulty.

After all, we are the variable that can change the world forever.

THE END.

#bts fanfic #bts thriller #btsvelvet #bts x red velvet #bts scenarios #series: code zero #stories #thank you for everyone who followed this through

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falneou17 · 4 years

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May 2015 - May 2020

No, this is not announcing my retirement or whatever. It’s just that after doing anything for a couple years, there will come a time when you start to look back and see how far you have come in those years. All the highs and lows, all the milestones and all the achievements.

And I kind of wanted to do something like this for a while; this is not the first time that I looked back at the time I have been writing fanfiction (and I am sure it won’t be the last), but I still want to, you know... document this. Share it in case there are people out there who are interested to see my perspective on this.

I am actually going to start to the time before I was writing fanfiction, because fanfiction was actually not my first experience with writing fiction; I actually wrote a collab original story with my good childhood friend Blue-san back in late-2012/early-2013. I can’t quite remember the date and Blue-san has since closed down her website she hosted it on, but it was in that era.

Shortly after that, in early-mid 2013 I wrote my own original story. I think I might still have it saved somewhere. As a matter of fact, actually, Falneou17′s name comes from that story. Well, the Falneou part anyway; seventeen’s just one of my fave numbers, both back then and right now.

Late-2013 and the year 2014 were both really busy and really weird for me, so I kind of pulled away from writing. That was until early 2015 (around February if I remember correctly) when I was feeling nostalgic and I looked up Pokemon fanfiction. Okay, to be fair, at the time I was looking for Pokemon fanworks in general, but it quickly gravitated towards fanfiction in particular. More specifically, Pokemon Special fanfiction, which was also the time when I read the stories of the six fanfiction writers who inspired me to write fanfiction. Of these six, only 1358456 is still writing, and while I will freely admit that I haven’t been reading her fics since I left the Pokemon Special fandom, I can wholeheartedly recommend her fics!

And that was pretty much how it began, I opened a fanfiction.net account in May 2015 and published my very first fanfiction (for Pokemon Special), Specialventure Academy which was my attempt at a high school AU for this franchise in the early days of the following month. Did it age well? No way XD but it did give me a lot of experience that helped me not only grow but also start out as a writer.

Like, most notably I think, it showed me the error in trying to incorporate everybody at the time (as BW2 wasn’t finished when I wrote that fanfiction and wouldn’t be for years to come, it would “only” have up to BW cast... which, as it included Lyra, Wally, Cherren, and Bianca, got the total to nineteen... yeah...). I think I realized this and tried to rectify my mistake in the second third of the story? Speaking of mistakes, another mistake I made with this story that really helped me grow was learning that my readers’ wishes and hopes did not mean I had to change my writing. Writing to make them happy was one thing, but I remember actively changing parts of my stories at the time to try and please everybody. Which, of course, is impossible (if you have readers who love Yellow and those who hate Yellow, for instance, how can you compromise to please everybody?).

This so far has only been about Specialventure, I haven’t even talked about the other fics in this era. For me, the three biggest fics in the 2015-2016 Pokemon Special era were, aside from Specialventure, Night of the Black Sun and Crimson Sunlight.

Black Sun was a really ambitious attempt for me at the time, not only because of what the story was trying to do but also because it would be my third multi-chapter fic I would be writing at the same time (alongside the other two fics I just mentioned). ‘Controversial’ is probably the wrong word, but Black Sun was definitely... polarizing. It’s also the only fanfiction of mine at the time (and only one of two to this day as of writing this) that received rude negative reviews. And because it was the first fic that received this... distinction... it hit quite hard, but I also feel like that made me realize not only the things that I did wrong but also that what I did had a big enough impact that it could affect other people that much. I think it is fair for me to say that the mistakes I made with Black Sun would not reappear in any of my other fanfictions after that... at least not to the same extent.

The third and final most memorable Pokemon Special fanfiction in this era, for me, was Crimson Sunlight. For the BanG Dream readers: no, this has nothing to do with either Scarlet Sunlight or Shining Sunlight, we’ll get to those soon enough. Looking back, from a writer’s perspective, Crimson definitely felt like it had a drop in quality, but at the same time it also felt the most... accomplished... of the three fanfiction. And Crimson basically taught me two things, I feel... it emphasized the importance of having a story’s plot planned out and it showcased how fluid the story could be if I were to focus on as few characters as possible (Crimson, being based on and inspired by konbu’s doujinshi titled How Far Are You?, focused on Red and Yellow and only Red and Yellow). And, out of the Pokemon fics in this first year era, Crimson is definitely the story I feel didn’t necessarily age the best but it is definitely the one I look back at the fondest.

The time around the end of 2015 and the start of 2016 I remember there were a few big things happening to me. Let’s talk chronologically: the first big thing that happened (that has no direct effect on my fanfiction, but I never said this post was to only look back on the fanfiction-specific times in the last half decade) was that I got promoted to moderator on the forums of JB2448′s site (the forums has since been taken down in... mid-2017? Mid-2017 sounds about right...), but the actual site is still live for those who want to use it to read Pokemon manga. I think this is worth noting because it would really hammer the point that what I did and said had an impact and that I had to be mindful of what I said online as a result...

The other notable thing that happened was that I got introduced to RWBY by DaPokemonMadster. There may have been more people involved, but Mads was definitely the one whose efforts to drag me into RWBY is the vividest... most vivid? It’s the one I remember the most, let’s keep it at that. This moment was significant for multiple reasons, I feel; not only did it open the doors to a new fandom, but it also sparked the birth of not only my longest oneshot at the time, White Rose Valentine, but also the fanfiction that would turn writing fanfiction for me upside-down: Field of Tomorrow. More than any other multi-chapter fanfiction I have ever published, even more so than Black Sun and Specialventure, Field of Tomorrow has been the biggest turning point for me in terms of writing and in terms of where I can say my writing got a big jump in quality (as arrogant as it is to say that). Despite the fact that, you know... FoT got officially discontinued earlier this year...

The writing, the story, the characterization... FoT introduced me to the ease of writing of both Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna (who would later become the base for another very notable character for me) as well as Neo (who would later become the base for yet another very notable character for me), but FoT did something else as well: beta readers. Before this point in time I would either publish the chapter right away (which, if you are a new/aspiring writer: don’t do that) or try to edit it myself. But, as I am sure every single writer can attest to: there is only so much editing that a writer can do on their own. And FoT really showed the difference between a chapter that I would edit by myself and a chapter that had a beta reader look at. It was phenomenal and a really big eye opener and I cannot thank Namitaa776 and LightZephyr enough.

The final fanfic that I can remember really fondly in this first year (I can’t believe I have written this much down already and we haven’t passed the first year yet) would be my one-year anniversary oneshot A Silver Lining. The Pokemon fanfiction that I think aged the best and would be partly the base for a fanfiction I am well known for in the BanG Dream! fandom. Before this point, I did not have any fanfiction deal directly with death before. I had danced around it a couple of times, but this oneshot was the first one to actively explore the possibilities... and to truly open the door to the “Angst” genre of the site... as a matter of fact, if it wasn’t for A Silver Lining, I might never have delved as much in the Angst genre as I have. So... thank you, A Silver Lining, for that opportunity. Even if I really hate the ending, but oh well... I think I was afraid that people would hate it if I were to go all in with it which is why I ended the oneshot like I did. I learned my lesson as the BanG Dream! fandom can attest to...

The rest of 2016 (the calendar year anyway) proceeded relatively uneventfully fanfiction-wise. I continued my multi-chapter fanfics that were ongoing, wrapped up Specialventure in August of 2016 and decided to stay mainly in the RWBY fandom because I felt the RWBY fandom gave me better reader interactions and reviews and such than Pokemon did. Specialventure definitely got the advantage in terms of view count, but the number of views a RWBY chapter would get on the day it got uploaded always baffled me. Then and now... especially since I was never a really big RWBY writer to begin with...

The good reader interaction in RWBY was, of course, until I published the fanfiction that I so very often call the fanfiction that did the worst. My fourth-most favorited (41), my third-most followed (35), my fourth-most viewed fanfiction on the site at the time of writing... Frozen Tears got one review. That was really demoralizing--okay, no, let me rephrase that. It was nice to see the counters of viewership and faves and follows rise up, but FT was definitely the fanfiction that made me realize that an effectively high review counter is what I wanted and that I had to find a new fandom to write for. I am sure a lot of writers can agree with me here: we like it when our fanfics get views, we love it when people fave them, but we absolutely adore it when people leave reviews.

As it so happened, the summer of 2016 was huge for me in terms of finding new franchises to like and watch. Most notably out of these, I got into Railgun, Index, Accel World, and my first of a handful of idol franchises: Love Live. Accel World is the only franchise I just mentioned that I have not written anything for, but fans of the franchise should be able to find plenty of references I made to that show. With both Pokemon and RWBY effectively behind me, I now had options for my third fandom...

Then we arrive in the year 2017, which I think... yeah, in terms of calendar year it was definitely my most memorable year. Let’s start with the fanfiction, because 2017 had a bunch of really notable fics for me.

The first thing of 2017 I want to mention is the Saten Ruiko Day Countdown that I did in 2017: a series of oneshots that would lead up to Saten Ruiko Day (10 March). They weren’t just any oneshots; no, they were all oneshots for a different franchise dedicated to LightZephyr and beta read by Namitaa776 (for those wondering why I didn’t do anything like it for Nami: I did something else for her that I didn’t publish for the whole world to see). Looking back, the oneshots themselves would be... they would be okay... decent... ‘good’ at best, probably. But on top of everything, they would be like a trial run of sorts to test out the different fandoms. Giving me a chance to see how writing for each would go and how the fandoms would react to my writing. The one that did the “best”, so to say, is by far the one for Love Live, but (and this is what is interesting to me) the ones for RWBY and Pokemon were actually the ones I think did the worst (both only receiving a single review). You know... the two fandoms I had already written for... low blow, Pokemon and RWBY, low blow...

But the oneshot I wrote for Love Live isn’t the one that’s most memorable for me. This is because I would receive a certain PM a few months later from BigTAnderson. He wanted to do a fanfiction reading of one my fanfiction for this countdown (A Step Back In The Shadows). And I was really happy with this; not only did somebody else wanted to do something with/for something that I did, but this felt more memorable than an average review of “I LOVE IT!” to me. It was confirmation that I was doing something right. And, unless I am badly mistaken, I think this is the first time somebody would do something with one of my fanfics. I know Reiriniverse would go on to regularly make the cover art for my fanfictions, but I am pretty sure that this fanfiction reading would be the first work based on one of my fanfics that anyone has ever done for me. And that is something one won’t easily forget, so if you miraculously are reading this BigTAnderson: thank you :)

The next notable thing of 2017 is probably my most polarizing act since publishing Night of the Black Sun in 2015: officially moving away from Pokemon and officially joining BanG Dream (not in that order, admittedly). The BanG Dream fandom at the time was only a couple weeks old, but it really was a big contrast to my time in Pokemon Special. In Pokemon Special, as you would already know if you’ve read this far, I had role models. I had people I could follow and learn characterization and figure out story ideas and such by reading their stories. BanG Dream had nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact, I ended up becoming the writer of both the first English published BanG Dream fanfiction on the site (A Step Back, 2 April 2017) and the first published English multi-chapter BanG Dream fanfiction on the site (The Times We Lost, 10 April 2017) during a time period when we still didn’t know much about... I want to say at least a third of the characters at the time? Maybe even half now that I think about it... As a matter of fact, to put it into perspective: the first chapter of TTWL was published (not written, published) before the end of the second in-game event story on the Japanese server (because... we only had the Japanese server back then).

I am not going to be arrogant and say that I hope I can inspire an aspiring BanG Dream fanfiction writer as much as someone like 1358456 has inspired me, but... the realization that I would have to pave my own way in this fandom without having landmarks to aim for was a big deal at the time. Even today, this realization catches me off-guard every once in a while knowing that I am the only BanG Dream writer who published something in 2017 who still publishes on the site for this fandom to this day.

Another big thing that happened in 2017 was that I got admitted to the hospital and would have to spend half a year to recover from it, effectively making me miss out on an entire semester. ...oh yeah, I probably did not mention this before, but the entire period of writing fanfiction for me up to this point was done while I was a full-time university student. This semester off was honestly a blessing in disguise for me as it forced me into a position where I couldn’t do much... so to eat away at the time I needed to rest I would end up writing fanfiction. Which is part of the reason why The Times We Lost and The Times We Lost Collection could be updated and uploaded as fast as they did. And I definitely remember both very fondly, especially since I had to extrapolate a lot of the characters’ characterization as we did not have much to go on. Remember how I mentioned two very notable characters earlier back in FoT? Yeah... my experience with Weiss, Blake, and Neo in my FoT days definitely helped a lot with getting a base going for both Mitake Ran and Aoba Moca in the days before we had their first event story.

As I mentioned earlier, TTWL and, by extension, TTWLC, will always have a big place in my heart. They’re technically an AU where I had to be very careful with how I wrote the characters... at the same time having a ton of freedom to do so as not a lot was confirmed/denied about them. A cute example would be the different hairstyle I had for one of the characters... which ended up becoming confirmed in canon (in a flashback, admittedly) a few months after she appeared with that hairstyle in my fanfiction. TTWL also set the stage, so to say, for my time here in the BanG Dream fandom and it carved my niche as an Afterglow-centric writer who is able to write both fluff and angst for the girls. Not to mention that TTWL was literally the first multi-chapter BanG Dream fanfiction we have on the site.

Collection ended up being written because TTWL had to extrapolate a lot. It had to make this new realm of reality with headcanons and theories and such that went into writing TTWL to try and make the characters feel alive. Some ended up becoming confirmed, some were debunked, but to allow future readers of TTWL to truly understand where I was going and why I wrote the characters the way I did, I knew I had to make a sort-of prequel to TTWL. Which is pretty much what Collection was: a collection of oneshots that were mainly set prior to the events of TTWL to try and explain all the headcanons and theories I ended up using in the TTWL. Most of these, by the way, still live on in other fanfictions of mine to this day.

Next up: 2017 was my first successful attempt at the NaNoWriMo. For people who don’t know, NaNoWriMo involves writing fifty-thousand words in thirty days (equating to an average of 1667 words each day). I wanted to do it for BanG Dream, I really did, but I wasn’t confident I knew enough about the BanG Dream characters at the time to succeed in NaNoWriMo. Instead, I decided to go with something Railgun-based and The Nighttime Terror of Academy City was born. It honestly was so much fun writing that I ended up writing well above the targeted average each day (although I probably will never be able to replicate that effort); writing seventeen hundred, eighteen hundred, at some point even surpassing the twenty-two hundred word count quite regularly, actually. And, while definitely not as bad as Black Sun received a year or two prior, Nighttime Terror also received a bunch of rude reviews. So much, even, that it prompted me to make every guest review have to be moderated first before they get published.

As if all of that wasn’t enough to make 2017 probably the most memorable year for me, the final notable fanfiction for me that got published in 2017... you know it, you were waiting for it to be said... every writer has that one fanfiction that they are more known for than any other fanfiction they have published, and for me... BanG Dream fandom definitely know me as the writer of The Final Glow of Afterglow. A oneshot that aimed to surpass A Silver Lining I published a year and a half ago... and, as the writer of both oneshots, I think it is fair for me to say that it definitely did that. The plot of the two stories are different (they do overlap noticeably), I feel like TFGOA not only left a bigger impact but also has better stats (most notably more reviews) despite being much newer and in a much smaller fandom. I am sure people will associate me most with TFGOA for a long time to come and, honestly... if there is only one of my fanfiction that can survive the tests of time, I sure hope it is TFGOA. TFGOA also stole the title of longest chapter that I published, previously held by RWBY’s White Rose Valentine (jumping from ~7k to ~11k words).

2018 was a lot slower for me mainly because it was my last year in university. I think this was best showcased in the quiet era in the end of 2018 and the fact I had to slow down my third BanG Dream multi-chapter story Scarlet Sunlight. Scarlet, by the way, has a lot of fond memories as well. It was the first time I could really let loose with BanG Dream (aside from TFGOA, of course), while also more or less acting as a FoT 2.0 in a way. It’s also the first multi-chapter fanfiction, since FoT I think, where I had a constant beta reader throughout the entire process. And I feel like that really helped Scarlet shape up into what it is. Am I claiming it is the best BanG Dream fanfiction out there? No, of course not, even Scarlet has its faults. But I think it definitely did well for itself, even compared to my other notable fanfiction I have mentioned already despite being so new. Scarlet managed to break past the coveted 100k word mark (being one of two BanG Dream fanfiction at the time of writing this to achieve this, the other being teawithmugi’s Reign of Silence). It is also my longest fanfiction at the time of writing this, in terms of number of chapters, in terms of word count, and in terms of how long I wrote the story from start to finish. Yeah, Scarlet will always be fondly remembered...

2018 was also the second year in which I did something for Saten Ruiko Day (and so far last year as I missed both 2019 and 2020). Same concept as 2017, effectively, but instead of switching the franchises I tried to do something... interesting (or what I thought was interesting anyway). I knew BanG Dream wasn’t very popular nor had it a lot of fanfiction, and there isn’t much worse than searching for fanworks of your favorite and not running into any. So what I would do was write a oneshot that had two randomly chosen BanG Dream girls, and I would fill up the countdown that way. I literally gave every girl a number and pulled a random number generator to assign each girl with in pairs for the sake of the oneshots. Sure it would still leave out a handful of girls of the franchise but it was the best I could do at the time. It also was a really good experience for me as a writer to try and write so many different characters (especially when, again, we didn’t know too much about them as of yet).

The other notable thing that happened in 2018, I feel, was that it was when I began writing more Shirokane Rinko. I think this is notable for several reasons... first of all, up to that point, I always struggled to write characters who were shy. I always excelled at loner-type characters (Silver of PokeSpe and Blake from RWBY were by far the easiest characters of their respective franchises whom I could write; and before RWBY fans come after me, this is the time before Blake really opened up to the rest of her team. We’re talking V2!Blake here). What I am trying to say is that Rinko was a challenge in and of itself to write, but she’s amongst the characters I am most comfortable writing today.

Secondly, and this is just stroking my own ego to be fair, is that Rinko’s introduction to my fanfics (or, better phrased, the fact that I wrote her more regularly now) came with a very amusing perk. What started as a playful and fun headcanon at the time quickly evolved into a ship that I managed to drag most if not all my regular reviewers into myself. It’s actually kind of amusing looking back on that.

The next year I would describe as “the year I return to the past”... in the sense that I would do things related to things I did in the past, in a way. I published a Pokemon Special oneshot in 2019, something I think a lot of people would have missed as it didn’t do nowhere near as well as l would have expected. I wrote two oneshots specifically to surpass TFGOA (Flying Through The Skies Above and Their First Date in two different “categories”), but neither made as big of an impact as TFGOA did.

Late-ish into 2019, at the end of August, I received a welcome surprise: a five-part ask that basically came down to someone telling me that I did the one thing I always wanted to do: inspire aspiring writers. This was a big moment for me, maybe even bigger than being asked if someone can do a reading of one of my fanfiction, because... it was concrete proof, actual evidence that what I did, that what I produced... it made a positive impact on other people’s lives, it helped make someone’s day brighter just by doing what I do on a daily basis. Flower anon, I have no other way to refer to you or even ask you how you are doing, but if you are reading this: I am honored to be able to inspire you.

The only other thing of note that happened in 2019 was the increase of anon hate I got and that I entered the Akuma no Riddle fandom for a few weeks. A few weeks because my experience with that part of that fandom was... let’s just say it was less than ideal and leave it at that, shall we?

And then, here we are, in 2020. I honestly don’t see myself publishing too many unique stories, but I will try to keep the train going with Shining Sunlight. I am taking a big risk with Shining as it is the first fanfiction since Black Sun where I am writing a multi-chapter story without having a very defined plot... and we all know how Black Sun went, right~? That being said, it’s half a decade later, I have learned so much in these last few years and I am feeling confident in Shining and what it can become.

I know I have focused more on the multi-chapter stories in this post than I have on the oneshots (with some notable exceptions), but the truth is... for me as the writer, there’s just so much that is being put in the multi-chapter stories that the oneshots are simply lacking. Which should speak volumes to oneshots like The Final Glow of Afterglow and A Step Back In The Shadows to remain so memorable and notable for me despite being “only” oneshots.

These last five years have been... amazing, really. The highs and lows, the ability and access to a platform to continue doing this. It’s been a lot of fun, it has really been life changing, and while I know I won’t be doing this forever... I sure as hell will make sure I will enjoy every second of time I am doing this!

#Falneou17

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