#about once every three weeks something reminds me that i'm exactly the same kind of nerd as steve pemberton and i hate us both for it (:

[fecklesheckleshacklesschmeckles]

just realised in9 fic ideas wouldn't be plot bunnies, they'd be plot leverets

i'm SO angry D:<

[notdacota]

A Bond Forged in Silence.

Paul Baumer X GN!reader (platonic)

Paul once saved someone, whom he believed to be just a civilian from an enemy camp, never imagining that this stranger would carry both a secret and a debt. That person was actually a French spy. Cloaked in the guise of an Austrian-Hungarian officer, they got to blend in and get the all the information. Unable to speak directly to Paul without endangering them both, they found another way to repay his gratitude—through small, crumpled notes slipped into Paul’s pocket in fleeting, unnoticed moments.

A/N: Winter once again leaves me sad and gloomy, returning me to writing some silly things based on old books😿😿 really tried to make it close to 20th century sounding, but I'm afraid it

"Confidante" is close friend or associate to whom secrets are confided or with whom private matters and problems are discussed.

"applesauce" is old-fashioned slang for nonsense; bunk.

Paul had grown used to the notes. They were his anchor, his piece of warmth in the endless gray of war. He didn’t know who Confidante was, but he had stopped questioning the mystery long time ago. It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was the connection—the wit, the silly jokes, the unspoken comfort that came with every crumpled piece of paper he found tucked in his pocket. So, when he slipped his hand into his coat and felt the familiar texture of a folded note, his heart lifted ever so slightly.

Unfolding it, he saw the same messy handwriting that never failed to draw a grin on his face.

Paul folded the note carefully, tucking it away in his jacket. He felt something shift inside him, a warmth that cut through the cold air of the trenches. The note was longer than usual, and something about it felt different— perhaps it was more thoughtful. It was still silly, witty, flaky even, but there was an underlying sense of reassurance in it, as if Confidante had known exactly what Paul needed to hear. And he indeed need it. The war was relentless, a weight that pressed on his chest every day. But these notes reminded him that there was still something good in the world. He leaned back against the trench wall, letting out a long breath.

Paul, my dear friend and unflappable warrior,

Yes, it’s me again. Anyway, how have you been? No fainting lately, at least I hope so... If you’ve been eating stale bread and calling it “supper,” I’ll have to come down there and stage an intervention. You can’t survive a war on air and bad jokes alone, though I do hope my notes are keeping your spirits up. I’ll be honest, I’m writing this one a bit hastily. Things have been busy on my end— not the fainting kind of busy, if you were meaning to ask, thank you very much— just the usual “I have to keep myself from getting in trouble” kind of busy. You know how it is. Or maybe you don’t, but trust me when I say it’s a full-time job. That said, I’ll need to take a little break from our delightful correspondence for a short while. Nothing bad, applesauce. Just a... temporary intermission. But I promise you this: I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me. By the time I return, I bet your comrades will have at least three new insults about my handwriting, when they once again slip this note out of your pocket. That’s a guarantee! Oh, speaking of this, I’ve noticed that your comrades seem to think these notes are from some great love of yours. Honestly, I think you should let them believe it. Imagine the calumny! Just tell them, “She’s a mysterious artist who sketches snowflakes and writes odes to misplaced socks.” That should keep them entertained for weeks. One last thing before I go—look after yourself, Paul. Seriously. I know I joke, but the thought of you coughing your way through the trenches makes me want to find you and drop a blanket on your head. Stay warm, stay fed, and stay alive. I’ll be back soon. Don’t ever try to forget me:)

Yours (still very much mysterious), Confidante.

“Don’t forget me,” the note had said. As if Paul ever could.

[wordsandrobots]

Had a pretty bad day so I'm going to boast about something.

I didn't mention it at the time but posting Chapter 14 of Ragnarök in G Minor on Friday took it past the previous high bar for individual Wishing on Space Hardware fic-length set by The Ares Affair (72,872 words vs 69,850). And this latest story isn't even halfway done. That'll come next week, and take the total word count for the series over 550,000 words.

(I'm hoping to land at about 555,000 because who wouldn't?)

Which is nice, and a good reminder of why, exactly, it took me half a year longer than expected to get Ragnarök finished. Because that did kind of disappoint me, but looking at it like this, it makes sense. There was a *lot* to get through to tie the overarching story together and give everybody some sort of key moment. My problem with writing fic for Iron-Blooded Orphans is that I want to write about ALL of it, and every single character, so it was probably inevitable that it wouldn't conclude with anything less then a doorstop of a fic.

Chapter 14 also marked the end of the character arc I started with the first IBO fic I wrote and I want to write a brief commentary on that. I'm planning a proper 'author's note' essay when the whole series is done, but this . . . this is something more specific.

(Behind a cut because it is talking about endgame stuff for Wishing on Space Hardware, which is already a post-canon fic for Iron-Blooded Orphans, so, yeah. Take heed and beware ye spoilers.)

I can't remember when exactly I decided one of the climaxes was going to be a three-way fight between fun-house mirror versions of the Devil of Tekkadan. Like much of WoSH, it fell out of the ever-expanding churn of ideas IBO left me with. But it's an obvious thing to do: take the legacy of the anime's protagonists and fracture it against itself for the sake of drama. Because whatever else, we are talking about a group of deeply traumatised child soldiers and there remains the potential for a lot of bad things to follow the hopeful ending of the show.

Embi is all the worst parts of Tekkadan. Violent, arrogant, selfish, reckless -- he's the vessel into whom I poured all that and more, to the point of having him actively reject the better parts. Heart-sickened by the death of his brother, the bonds of comradeship fray until he can't stand the sight of his former squad-mates, much less the miraculous returnee from the dead who catalyses the events of WoSH. At the same time, he can't stay at his worst. He struggles with new connections because they threaten to pull him from his grief. He doesn't want to move on. Embi roots himself in an old dream of being like Mikazuki, in the life of a mercenary soldier. Fighting is all he knows and beyond it lies the terrifying prospect of hope and trying. He'd have much preferred to burn up over Mars. At least that would have been a safely familiar ending.

Ordsley suffers the myth of Tekkadan, transformed by people who saw what a group of Martian children 'achieved' and wanted to surpass them. Yet the curse inflicted on him -- for he is of course a werewolf, turning with the influence of the crescent moon -- is to become unwilling legatee of Mikazuki's reality: the beast and the boy, the contradictory dreams of someone trapped by a system that sees people as raw material. For the smart young man at home on the proper side of history, it's a hell of a shock to reckon with the humanity of those condemned for their rebellion. Here, finally joining the survivors on the battlefield they once called home, the pieces click, for at least a moment. There are no easy answers in a world that offers children a choice between killing and starvation, but perhaps in the middle of the fray, it is easier to understand why they call each other friend.

Then there's Shino. The lovely, blood-thirsty himbo I thought it would be interesting to pluck from his canonical fate.

I know when I decided to shatter his prosthetic. The middle of last year, after reading writing by amputees, talking about how they are depicted, how that feeds and feeds off narratives fundamentally disconnected from their lived experiences. Still, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not trying to speak to those experiences. The canon has sci-fi prosthetics. It's detached from the real world. It's just, the ways it also problematises them . . . the way, particularly with the addition of 598 and his cybernetic eye, that dovetails with the propaganda drive from militaries to gift high-tech limb replacements to those mangled in the course of fighting . . . I don't regret pushing myself to dip my toe in those waters.

You see, I wanted to tie together the strands of Shino's trauma. His instinctive reach for quid pro quo in his relationship with Yamagi, finally answered with the truth of everything positive he left behind on his first 'death'. His great bête noire, that failure of his last-ditch effort to save Tekkadan, coming full-circle as he's given another chance, another challenge, met this time with greater experience and maturity, and the knowledge of when not to fight. Third-best no longer, bolstered by all those who taught him what it takes to fly.

And as he gets to prove his mastery -- in ways beyond Embi's suicidal commitment and Ordsley's engineered supremacy -- he also reckons once more with that pernicious belief he is only fit to fight.

There isn't an answer, you know. Those doubts about ourselves, those demons, don't go away even when we let them go. We just learn to carry on regardless. To accept the possibility that we can live anyway, and to stop throwing the best parts of ourselves under the bus in our rush to distance ourselves from the worst.

So the arm is smashed to bits, the fate of the mobile suit pilot, the soldier, the body spent in violence. But Shino finally sees his younger self in a positive light and does what nobody else was able to for Embi: tell him it's OK to leave. Whatever it takes to be happy, even if that's a million miles away. He treats Ordsley as Ordsley, not Mika 2.0, reinforcing Ordsley's newfound balance. Above all, throughout everything, he is not alone. This final fight is spent with Eugene right at Shino's side, backing him up, trusting him. The Ryusei-Go is Tekkadan as a community, the part that truly never wilted. Because the reason Shino can have this moment of catharsis is that he is loved. So many people, building him up, giving him a future.

Everything he would do for them, unhesitatingly, and has, more times than he will ever realise.

I don't know if it's character development, exactly. Honestly, I don't know if the chapter actually encapsulates these things the way I wanted it to. I've read it too many times to see it straight any more and, even with a lovely band of readers I am privileged to have commenting, I'm doubting myself a lot these days. I don't sit well on my laurels, with the things I've completed, the word counts and the tick-marks. I worry it's still not enough. Put a fair of myself in Shino, there.

But I think it's good. I think it came out the way I wanted it to. I think it's the right thing for the story, to take a giant mecha battle, the tragic, inevitable conflict, and flip it around into an act of firefighting. I think I should be proud I got here, even if I never expected to when I first sat down at my keyboard to explain why the hot bisexual anime boy was still alive, actually.

So I'm make a note, to myself, that I did. That I should be proud. That I am, of me, for doing that.

And if you're reading this and you're going to be reading the rest of the story -- I'll just say, Shino himself is going to tell you why his vivid pink robot arm needed to be demolished by a giant sword. There'll be another, eventually (they do have a cyberneticist on speed-dial), but for now, well. You'll see.

[charles-rxwlands]

the aftermath of 'i love you.'

this is the sequel to my fic how kaz would react to 'i love you.' which was basically all angst. spoiler alert: this is all angst, too.

pairing: kaz brekker/reader but not exactly (??) cause they've broken up so uh

rating: teen

word count: 1.5k (rounded up)

summary: what happened after you said 'i love you,' to kaz

tags: gender neutral!reader, angst, unhappy ending

warnings: swearing, self-deprecating thoughts, and i think that's it? but pls lmk if anything else is needed

read on ao3

a/n: the writing quality of this really went 📉📈📉 but in my defense i wrote most of this while my brother watched tommy innit videos at full volume so ofc i was distracted.

and fyi muzzen is not an oc, he's one of the minor minor characters in soc!

once again, feedback and reblogs are appreciated! hope you enjoy reading <3

Kaz's pov

He watched you from the other side of the room as you blatantly flirted with Muzzen. He had his glass of kvas (Jesper had begged for the club to order the ravkan mead for weeks) in a death grip. You ran your fingers through your hair, and smiled at something Muzzen had said. He tugged lightly on the collar of your jacket, making you laugh softly. Kaz's heart tightened, jealousy settling in his chest.

You looked happy, even as you conversed with the brainless bodyguard who probably couldn't count up to ten. Kaz hadn't been able to make you happy like that. But you had loved him anyway, and he had 'fucked you over', as you'd put it.

I love you.

You're a coward, Brekker.

Kaz let out something in between a sigh and a frustrated grunt. He drained the rest of his drink in one go, and set the glass down more violently than he'd intended. His scowl deepened, if that were even possible, when he sensex Inej slide into the seat next to him. He waited for her to speak, because he sure as hell wasn't going to initiate the conversation. What was there to say? You and him were over. And it was all his fault. 

"Kaz," Inej said. Her tone of voice was gentle - too gentle. He didn't want to be pitied, for fuck's sake. 

"What is it, Inej?" he snapped. 

"Tell me what happened between you and Y/n."

"Nothing to tell." He shrugged. 

Annoyance flickered over her face. "I care about you both, you know," she said. "I don't like seeing you two like this."

He gave her a withering look, if only to disguise the ugly feeling that flared up within him at her words. 

Don't care about me.

Don't love me.

You can't.

Kaz bit the inside of his cheek and hung his head. He studiously ignored Inej for a solid minute. At some point, he noticed that you and Muzzen had abandoned your corner table, most likely to go suck each other's faces off. The thought sent jolts of jealousy through his heart. 

"For Saint's sake- did she break your heart? Is that it?" she demanded, apparently having had enough of his silence.

He 'tsked' in annoyance, standing up abruptly. He snatched up his cane. "Maybe I broke hers," he muttered before walking off. He didn't want to answer questions today. Or ever.

Inej didn't follow him, and he was thankful for that. He trudged up the stairway, the rickety steps creaking under his weight. Emotions swirled within him, brewing up a storm. It was just a matter of time before he exploded, because as much as he hated to admit it, he was still human. Especially when it came to you. 

You had been one of the first people to see his humanity, and the last thing he wanted was to become another monster in your life.

But then again, maybe it was too late.

Suddenly, he bumped into someone. He hissed, flinching backwards. "Watch it-," his next words died on his tongue when he looked up, and came face to face with you. For a few, painfully awkward moments, the two of you held eye contact. Your face was stony, but your e/c eyes betrayed some kind of emotion that Kaz couldn't be bothered to decipher right now.

"Sorry, Brekker," you apologised. Your tone was flat. "C'mon, Muzzen," you gestured for him to follow you back down with a jerk of your head.

His hand twitched at his side as you left, almost as if his body yearned for your presence. Your shoulders nearly touched - missing each other by less than a centimetre. He couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. 

Letting out another sharp breath, Kaz resumed the walk back to his room. His footsteps grew quicker and more urgent. Your name echoed in his mind, as well as the three words that had haunted him for days now. 

Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

He slammed the door behind him when he finally reached his quarters. His cane fell to the floor, although his gloves stayed on. He stumbled into the cramped bathroom, bracing two hands against the rusty sink. He twisted the tap open, ignoring the squeak of the old mechanism that would have otherwise annoyed him. A gentle stream of water flowed from the tap head, and he splashed some on his face. 

No, he thought stubbornly, I am not going to break down because of Y/n.

The despair that rattled inside of him said otherwise.

f only he had reacted better when you'd told him you loved him. If only he hadn't yelled at you and called you all those horrible things that weren't true about you in the slightest. You weren't selfish at all. You were the exact opposite. You were kind, and thoughtful, and understanding - so, so understanding of him and his endless baggage. And he had- he had ruined it all, because of his own cowardice.

You're a coward, Brekker.

I know, he thought, not for the first time. I'm sorry. 

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Your pov

"I- I'm sorry, Muzzen, but I think I'm gonna turn in for the night," you said to the bodyguard, smiling sheepishly. "I've got a bit of a headache."

"It's alright," he said, giving a half-hearted smile back. It was clear he didn't believe you. You didn't know if that was because your acting skills weren't as up to par as you thought, or because the bodyguard was smarter than you made him out to be.

You all but ran up the stairs, nearly sagging in relief as the door closed behind you. You suddenly couldn't stand the feeling of the fabric of your coat on your skin and shrugged it off; Kaz had bought it for you, because of course the reminder of him lingered everywhere you went.

Your room wasn't anywhere near big, but it was a good way away from Kaz's, and for the first time, you were grateful for that. You couldn't deal with him at the moment.

Wait, no, that came out wrong. It wasn't him specifically that you couldn't deal with, it was the bad memories (or, rather, memory, as there was one key shitshow that had ruimed everything) that came with him.

Oh, Saints, why, why, why had you told him you loved him? Things had been going so well! And then you- you fucked it up. Yes, you had blatantly blamed this on Kaz the day of the argument, but deep down, you knew you were the one at fault. 

Your heart ached every time you thought of him. You missed Kaz. So, so much. It hadn't escaped you how he had been eyeing you and Muzzen earlier in the evening. You could only hope that he was staring out of jealousy, and not devising some foolproof plan to get rid of you.

What would it take for Kaz to forgive you? Or had you fucked things up beyond repair? 

"Shit," you whispered, leaning your head against the wall. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. "Shit." You didn't know what exactly was 'shit'. Maybe the decision you came to moments later.

I'm going to apologise to him," you said to your empty room. "I will."

With a sniffle, you cracked open your door and slipped back outside. You had left your coat in a pile on the floor, making you vulnerable to the cold that pierced the empty areas of the Crow Club. Your feet carried you to Kaz's room naturally. You barely had to think about where you were going. Instead, you thought of Kaz himself. 

Kaz. Your fallen angel, you used to call him in your mind. You couldn't express how sorry you were. You didn't even know what you were sorry for. Loving him? Loving him, and saying it aloud? Loving him, and saying it aloud, because you were so sure he felt the same way? 

You had been being selfish. Kaz said so himself. Selfish and stupid. Of course Kaz didn't love you.

At last, you were in front of his door. You raised a fist to knock. Opened your mouth to call out. Except you did none of those. You just stood there, tears welling up in your eyes once again, a familiar pang of sadness in your chest. 

He wouldn't want to see you. How could he? This was your fault, wasn't it? It was your selfishness, and your wishful thinking that had gotten you two into this position. You missed him, but you wouldn't go as far as to think he missed you, too. If you attempted to apologise… would it really be for him? 

You wouldn't be selfish. Not again.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. 

You turned around, and walked away. 

[merrock]

Hi mods! This might be an odd ask, but I was wondering if you had any tips for writers who want to be able to knock their replies in one go? I always tell myself that I'm going to do as many as I can, but I always find myself getting distracted or not doing as many as I had planned. I just wanted to see if any of you guys (or other members) had any ideas on how to just sit down and write, essentially. (As silly as that may seem!)

Hi there, anon!

Not an odd ask at all, and I hope that I can help you out! I do sort of want to preface this by saying that what works for one writer might not work for someone else, and we as admins never want to tell someone exactly how to do their replies (minus the stuff in the rules, obviously everyone knows that!), so what you said about others chiming in, please feel free to do so!

I'm going to put this under a cut, since my answer is probably going to be pretty long, and I don't want to drive everyone crazy on dash, but if anyone wants my honest advice on writing and replies and insight as to how we, as admins, do ours, feel free to read on!

I think that setting and frame of mind is one of the first things to take into consideration when getting into the groove of writing. Are you in the mood for it? If you're not, it's probably not going to happen, or at least not well. Take a break and come back later! What kind of stimuli do you have around you, and is that helping or hurting? Some days I need music in the background to zone into what I'm writing, other days I like to pop in a feel good movie or one of my favorite TV shows (the other day I did some serious writing while watching The Little Mermaid TV show, for example, but also I can't watch something I've never seen before and write replies, it just... doesn't work).

Now, here's a huge lesson that I have learned. Don't worry about constantly completely catching up, it's really not that important. Is it a good feeling to look through your activity and drafts and realize that you owe nothing and everything is done? Yeah, absolutely! And if you can get to that point, sure, why not! But... don't put that pressure on yourself. I used to, and it leads to a lot of burn out and being disappointed in yourself, and for what? A hobby that you should love doing, instead! So if you're not caught up, if you have drafts you didn't get to, remind yourself: they are going to be there the next time that you log in.

As an aside, spoiler alert: as admins, we will never ask you to be caught up on replies, like... ever. When we say that you need to be active to do something (new character, big plot, etc.) we do not mean 100% caught up on replies, but we do mean steady with replies. The reason we say this is being caught up once after doing replies that are very old is concerning, vs. being active to where none of your replies are older than a week or so (if that makes sense).

Lindsey and I have similar but different approaches to replies! Unless they are strained for time, Lindsey normally logs in and does every reply that they drafted up until a point. Like, say that it's 10AM on a Thursday when they draft, and they log in at 8PM that night to do replies... they will do everything in their drafts, normally for their first four characters, with the second four being done the next time they're on. But if they are busy and don't have as much time, they do the three-reply method to make sure that all of their characters get some replies out, and just do the three oldest replies on each character. (If you have anything to add, feel free, co-mod!)

Personally, my goal is always to keep all of my characters equally active, so I do replies in small batches of time (Sunday night's replies, then Monday's daytime replies, then Monday night's replies, etc.). This helps me gauge where I am, and allows me to keep all of my characters on the same page. If I've gone through Cage, Nari and Rafael before I stop, then the next time I log in, I pick up with Stelly. I do have days, admittedly, where I log in and just do all of Cage's, all of Nari's, etc. until I'm done, but only when I know I either don't owe a lot or am in one of those moods where I just never want to stop writing, you know? Oh, also if I want to change things up, sometimes I start with Josh first, just for the hell of it, and work backwards. The order doesn't matter so much as every character being active.

Now, do you have to do replies like that? Nah, no way! Just because our methods work for us does not mean that they will work for you, or have to! But I think some of the key, important takeaways to help avoid burn out and keep all of your characters active are to do your oldest stuff first (it's literally just going to keep getting older, more outdated and more dusty if you only respond to the same stuff over and over, trust me), pick up where you left off when you stop, and be flexible on how you do replies depending on your needs that day! You'll thank yourself.

As for the distraction part, like I said above, I cannot watch new TV shows/movies that I haven't seen before, because my brain just... will not focus. I am also incredibly bad about picking up my phone and opening a game and just... bye, you know? (It's always coloring apps, if you're wondering.) So, I know you mentioned working straight through, but don't be afraid to give yourself little break when you need it. Playlists help me a lot, too! Depending on my mood or what I'm writing, I try to have a playlist that I can put on to make me happy or put me in a good mood. Each of my characters have playlists, too. (I know a lot of you guys probably have them, too.)

... this is probably long-winded as heck, and you're like, "why did I ask, I got nothing out of this," but. I tried, so let's sum it all up before I press pause and go watch some football.

TLDR version: set small goals for yourself & then continue on when/if you have time after those goals are met, create an environment for yourself with no distractions and things that put you in the writing mood, please never pressure yourself to be caught up but rather just be consistent and steady with all of your activity, find a method that works best for you but also be flexible for your needs on any one day, and remember to have fun with writing! xx

[sweetestlamb]

Let's Play A Love Game

Author's note: this one is rated 😈 so yeah. There was originally more angst in my mind but once I got to that part I was over it lol I'm the worst at angst I much rather make it naughty. It's more rushed than I wanted but I don't really have time to write 10k fics right now. But hopefully soon.

Summary: it's just pretend, right?

She hadn't meant to push the event in the corner of her mind until she forgot about it completely, so much so that when the e-vite showed up in her inbox she stared at it in wide eyed shock not even noticing Mi-Seon creeping up behind her.

"It's already time for that? I usually know it's coming because you start buying expensive dresses you can't afford and crying at your credit card bill. Maybe country life has really changed you hm?"

False. Inaccurate. Utterly wrong to the every core.

She lets out a shrill scream letting her head fall painfully on her desktop.

"I'm an idiot! Just kill me now, I deserve it." She has nothing to wear, okay the mountain of boxes in her living room, bedroom and some hidden in the linen closet beg to defer but none of that is worthy of this event. The annual dentist convention in Seoul, it's a week long getaway. It's meant to be an opportunity to build connections and attend professional learning classes, but that has long been abandoned. Now it is a fashion show and chance to show off your success and this year more than ever she has to impress everyone. They all look down on her and her cute little practice. Those judgemental snarky bitches.

"Do we have anymore patients?" She absently asks her best friend, only friend already getting up and walking away.

"No that was the last one. Do you want to call it a day?" She doesn't give a verbal reply lost in her phone and the disease that is online shopping, in the span of three minutes she has already added seven dresses to her cart.

"Chief Hong is going to have a long day."

It's just as Mi-seon says the next day the nosy know it all shows up glaring at her over the handful of packages in his arms.

"Don't tell me you're doing this again. What more could you possibly have to order? How much things does one woman need?" His voice is an air warmer than the last time they were in this very same position, but she tries not to think too hard about it. Their relationship is too confusing these days, as temperamental as the sea.

"Are delivery men allowed to complain this much when they're doing a job they are getting paid for?" She snarks back, snatching her packages from his arms with a huff. Ignoring the grin on his face as she disappears into her house.

"That better be all you order. I'm not coming back."

He comes back. At least six more trips, more boxes each time on the last day he doesn't simply leave after making his delivery.

"I'm coming in for tea because of you I've been working too hard." She squeaks indignantly as he pushes past her, their shoulders brushing in the tight space of the doorway.

She should wait until she doesn't have an audience but she's too impatient so while he's making the tea in her kitchen (so rude and intrusive), she starts to open a few boxes pulling out the contents. Dresses, blouses, shirts, hair accessories, lipsticks in all shades and hues, and of course shoes; heels, flats and everything in between.

"Your house looks like a department store." She jumps at his voice glancing up at him, almost laughing at the hedgehog mug that he's drinking out of that Mi-seon gave her as a joke. Leave it to him to pick the most ridiculous mug.

"Hurry up and go so I can try everything on." She starts to take the objects out and organize them, putting together possible outfits lazily.

"Why not have a fashion show?" He slurps loudly at the tea, sighing and smiling down at the warm beverage. Acting like he's never had tea before, such a plebian.

"A fashion show?"

"Yeah, model all that", he motions to the new boxes littering her bedroom floor, "and I'll let you know what looks good."

She scoffs, loudly looking at his lackluster outfit; a simple white tee tucked into dark cargo pants with suspenders.

"What do you know about fashion?" She replies meanly, despite the little voice in her mind that reminds her that while his outfits are more practical than fashionable there is something distracting about the way his shoulders fill out his shirts and the way his long legs sit in his pants.

He shrugs looking down at himself, "I'm the town handy man I have no need to look good. But I'm still a man I can tell you what I think looks good on a woman."

Oh. It's a nonchalant statement said with no real heat but the implications make her skin warm up, she's never once thought that he saw her as a woman; nor considered looking at him like a man. (Lies.)

"I--why woul--why?" She stutters through an answer, tongue heavy in her mouth. He looks back nonplussed, sitting down pointedly on her couch.

"Never took you for the shy kind. You growing bashful now Ms. Dentist?" His eyes twinkle with mischief and she knows that she's being played but she wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. Slamming her room door, she pulls off her casual house clothes and grabs the first thing that catches her attention- a buttery yellow dress that grazes her knee, pairing them with white heels and a high messy bun. A swipe of lip tint completes the look and she confidently opens her room door.

Du-sik is staring aimlessly at his phone and doesn't notice her reappearance at first, so she coughs loudly folding her arms and when his eyes land on her, a chill runs down her spine at the look that lands on her body. It's been a long time since a man looked at her in this way, his eyes are undressing her even though he was the one who implored her to dress up in the first place. She hates it. At least she should hate it. But she can't ignore the satisfaction that washes over her at his dumbfounded look, that smug look obliterated by her very first look.

"Well?" She pushes harder, twirling to give him the full look. His gasp is loud behind her, she knows exactly why. The deep revealing plunge that travels all the way to the small of her back. There's no way she would wear this to the convention much too suggestive but that's her business.

"Wher-" his voice cracks and this time she can't contain her smile, dimples flashing now at her clear affect on him, clearing his throat he tries again, "Where exactly are you going again?"

She hums turning back around, gleeful at the vibrant blush on his cheeks. So he is just a man after all.

"A dentist convention." She answers cheekily and he guffaws loudly, eyes narrowing at her like he knows exactly what she's trying to do. They stare at each other for a long moment and she ultimately breaks the stand still, realizing what's happening. It feels a lot like flirting.

Collecting herself, she barrels back into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers to her reflection, face too flushed for her liking.

A hard knock at the door pulls her from her self chastisement, "You didn't even wait for my rating."

She sighs loudly covering her face in embarrassment at her own action. She doesn't even have alcohol to blame this time.

"I don't care. This was stupid, let's stop."

Of course he ignores her.

"I liked it. But it's too...sexy for convention. You should wear that for someone special. I doubt anyone with a beating heart would be able to resist you."

What the fuck.

This isn't who they are, when did they become comfortable enough for conversations like this? They despised each other, right? Confused and annoyingly flattered, she peels the dress off her body trying her hardest not to think about the fact that only a door separates him and her naked body.

"I would love to see the others. But I have to go, but if you want my opinion. Red is definitely your color."

"What?" She replies, but she can hear the too loud click of the front opening and then closing and just as capriciously as he arrived, he leaves. 

Burying something that feels a lot like disappointment she flops onto her bed, head fuzzy like its been wrapped in cotton.

"What is going on?"

They don't see much of each other the next day and it's unusual given how much they see each other on a regular basis but she refuses to think about it or even consider that he's avoiding her. He's just busy and she doesn't care anyway, they have nothing to do with each other.

The convention is in two days now, she has her overnight bag packed with all her new purchases and the messages have been pouring in their group chat. She's mostly chosen to ignore them but on a whim she decides to check what they're so excited about, only to feel her stomach drop.

Why isn't Hye Jin answering?

Maybe she's busy with her mystery man 😉

Oh! She has to bring him, we need to interrogate him!

Yoon Hye Jin don't pretend you don't see these messages!!

That she had forgotten about.

"Why did you tell them that he's interested in you? Has living here altered your brain, you idiot." She berates herself.

"Who's interested in you? Why are you an idiot?" Mi-seon looks curious from the doorway, without waiting for an invitation she hops onto the bed with two cans of beer. She grabs one, drinking it in a flash.

"Oh it's that kind of night." Mi-seon says excitedly running to grab more beers.

"So let me get this straight, you told them that Chief Hong is interested in you and that he's been chasing you but you're not interested?"

She nods meekly, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

"Why did you lie?"

That's the brunt of the issue, she's a liar. She should have sent her initial message and told them that there was nothing between them but how could she when they were all calling him handsome and acting like she finally did something right? She'd spent that entire dinner feeling like her teenage self on the outside looking in, wanting nothing more than to be someone worthy of being included.

"I know I should have told the truth."

"Yes, you should have told them that you're interested in him too."

Huh.

Time stops as she processes the words that her best friend just uttered. There is static in her head as she tries to make sense of it.

"What are you talking about?"

Mi-seon looks at her unimpressed.

"You can both keep lying to yourself but the rest of us aren't as stupid. You're both interested in each other. It's mutual."

She wants to ardently deny the accusation but the words are caught in her throat and all she can manage are refusing sounds.

"You've been wearing red all week." Mi-seon says accusingly and she jumps up in huff, "So what? I'm allowed to wear colors!"

"You hate wearing red. You said it makes your skin look too pale. You hardly ever wear it. So color me surprised when I learned that red is the favorite color of a certain part timer."

That damn town chat. There has to be a way to get Mi-seon out of it. Maybe it was a mistake letting her live here. She was learning too much.

"Don't even bother to deny it. I won't believe anything you say. But I think you should ask him to go with you, you'll get some time alone to figure this out."

There's nothing to figure out. They are..... acquaintances who can admit that the other is vaguely attractive at times. His face isn't all that bad and she's pretty, so it's natural that there is tension at times, like he said they were still humans.

So she doesn't tell him about her fib, pretending everything is fine until it's the day of the convention and her anxiety has all but smothered her and her hands have a slight tremble in them as she starts to drive.

"It's going to be fine. Everything will be okay." She doesn't believe a word she's saying to herself, her heart is thumping in her heaving chest. She doesn't want to go alone. Convincing Mi-seon to leave was a failed endeavour, her and that police officer becoming inseparable. She knew what that smile meant when her best friend had realized that she would have the house to herself. She could barely get a word in as Mi-seon started frantically shaving her legs then pushed her out of the bathroom to "shave her wild cat".

With a sigh she starts driving, the car too quiet despite what she'd told Du-Sik and the Gongjin grannies. Uncharacteristically she turns on the radio, kpop blaring from the speakers. She recognizes the tune, never before has something as mundane as butter seemed so interesting but the kitchen essential was given new life by the song. She bops her head to the catchy beat, trying to ignore the fact that she's driving to the lion's den.

Some time later, she pulls into the hotel a valet already coming over to get her car. Grabbing her overnight bag, she exits the car handing her keys to the waiting hands of the valet.

Everyone is here and none of them had come alone, she was the only one without a plus one. They haven't noticed her yet so she watches as they all laugh at a joke she can't hear, unnecessarily stroking at their husband's chests as if to show off their exorbitantly priced wedding rings. Everything was always a competition here.

She shouldn't have come. Their was nothing about her life that they would be envious of. She was going to make a fool of herself. Impulsively she starts stepping back but it's too late, Hong In-A spots her and points her out and immediately all eyes are on her, they all start walking over to her and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away. Get on a bus and go to the beach and never see any of them ever again. But she's no longer a child, no longer that scared little girl; worked too hard to shed that skin.

Fortifying herself she puts on a fake smile. Ready for war.

"Hye-Jin ah, there you are. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come. You never responded in the group chat." Ye-Ri states with an attitude, looking around her as if searching for someone and eyes brightening when she sees no one. "Did you come alone?" This makes all of them perk up, looking around like chickens with their heads clucking. She swallows the shame the question elicits, "Who would I be with? I told you in already, it's not like that."

They all look at her with pity, it makes her want to slap them all across the face. Who were they to make her feel like shit, she didn't need anyone that didn't make her pathetic.

Finally one of the husbands cracks the awkward tension by introducing himself, she tries her best to ignore the pervasive way his eyes run down her body. Instinctively she crosses her arms, feeling naked under his stare. Nobody else notices her discomfort and after all the introductions, they all walk away as if she's no longer worth their time.

Lump in her throat she walks into the hotel, determined not to show them that they've gotten under her skin.

There's a scheduled lunch and she tries to find a new table but Sung-Mi waves her over and she doesn't see anyone else she recognizes or wants to sit with.

He hadn't been wrong, she has no friends besides Mi-seon.

"You were looking around, were you looking for someone? Are we not good enough to sit with?" The question is asked with a bite and sneer as if the idea is laughable that she would ever be better than any of them.

She swallows her pride, "No nothing like that. I was merely looking around."

Sung-Mi looks satisfied as if putting her in her place has righted her world.

They begin a conversation that completely excludes her, regaling drama that she knows nothing about and doing nothing to bring her up to date or invite her to join. It's the polar opposite of her experience in the countryside and with shocking clarity she realizes that she wishes she were there, it's only been a few hours but she misses it. Nobody looks down on her there, no usually she's the only doing that she notes with shame.

"I'll find the restroom." She says to no one because none of them are paying her any mind except the husband with the wandering eyes and she would much rather not have that attention.

Thankfully the bathroom is empty and she has to stop herself from splashing water on her face, her make-up was done perfectly it would be a waste to ruin it. Pushing her hair behind her ears she takes a deep breath and then another until her head is clearer, the noise lessening.

"It's only a day and a night. You've suffered far worst."

With that lacking pep talk she exits the bathroom, almost colliding into a wall. Wait, no it's just a person- a chest to be specific. She looks up ready to apologize when a familiar face stops her in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" She stares flabbergasted at him, more dressed up than she's ever seen him. In a white suit with a white vest, the tee-shirt peeking under the only thing that feels like him to her. And his white sneakers. She can't hide her surprise at his sudden appearance and without thinking she starts to pull him to the side, to avoid being seen but she's not fast enough and soon they are swarmed by her colleagues, before she even has a chance to talk to him.

"Aren't you the man from the picture?" Yoo-Jin asks blushing way too much for a married woman if her husband's cold stare means anything.

"The picture?" Du-sik replies, clearly confused.

"You're the guy that's chasing after her. She told us that you liked her and you were courting her." Sung-Mi answers for her, she wants to vanish. It would be better if she had never existed. Even non-existence would be better than this embarrassing moment. "I got a picture of you two last time, when you followed her."

His eyes ping-pong between the group and her and she realizes this is his chance to ruin her. After everything she's done, all her rude comments and snobby remarks about the town and people he cares for so much, this is his chance for revenge. He can laugh and deny any feelings for her, tell them all that she's a liar and he's never been interested in her, not even once. This is what is going to happen. She prepares herself for the fall out, surely after this she won't be able to show her face in Seoul again.

He starts to laugh and her stomach tightens, her palms are so sweaty.

Here it goes.

"Oh I guess she wanted to keep me a secret."

Wait. What. That doesn't sound like denial.

"We're together now. I finally bulldozed those walls and made her mine. Nice to meet you all I'm Hong Du-sik, Hye-Jin ah's boyfriend."

Her eyes widen as he bows and starts to shake hands with the husbands, the one that stared at her looking disappointed. Their handshake goes on for a second too long, eventually with the latter pulling away with a pained look. She's too confused to consider what that means.

"And you were so cold earlier saying you had no one. Did you want to make a fool of us?"

He answers for her, "It's nothing like that, my honey is still getting used to us. I'm sorry I'm so late I had something to take care of."

Her head is spinning too fast to keep up with everything happening and she's grateful when he excuses them and guides her outside with a large hand on her hip.

Fresh air is much appreciated and she takes in huge heaps of it as soon as they're free.

Then reality crashes down on her.

He knows about her lying.

He had called her bluff.

But he didn't out her.

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She finally manages to say, head still reeling.

But instead of answering he's staring at her legs, then slowly his eyes swivel upward cross her thighs curving around her hips, past her breasts (a bit too slow there) before moving to her collar and settling on her face.

"You look great."

She feels the heat rushing to her face. What was he doing to her?

It hadn't been in purpose but she finds herself in red again, an a line dress with criss crossing straps over her shoulder and a middle slit. It was conservative without being too formal or professional. She'd felt comfortable in it but now seeing that look on his face, comfort is the last thing she feels.

He was distracting her and she couldn't afford that with those harpies inside waiting for her downfall. They needed to get back on track.

"What are you doing here?" She tries again, but he responds with his own question, "Why did you tell them that I was chasing you?"

"It was a mistake. They thought we were together and I just....said that for no reason." It's half the truth.

"They don't seem like your friends. You looked like you needed someone on your side, so I just found myself saying we were together for no reason."

She looks at him blankly, heart pounding now. In her moment of weakness instead of kicking her, he'd lended a helping hand. What kind of person did it make her for expecting the former?

"So what now?" She asks still in disbelief that he's here and that he'd told people that there were dating, she would be angry and offended later that they had readily believed it. Perhaps it didn't seem too farfetched now with him looking like that right now.

"Well, don't look but they're watching us through the glass."

This time she finds herself turning to look and he's the one that has to stop her, he does so by suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her into his body. She squeaks at the collision. Leaning down so his lips are level with her ear, he speaks, "We can give them a show. I'm happy to be your pretend boyfriend."

Why?

She yearns to ask him why he's willing to go this far for her? Why was he even here when she had never told him where the convention was taking place? But his words were hot on her ear and she's tired of being their source of entertainment so she nods looking up at him, "Just this once. I'm going to lean on you. Let me borrow your eraser and copy your homework."

He stares before a blinding smile graces his handsome face.

"Let's go then." His hand is heavy on her waist as he walks back towards the hotel, taking his role very seriously it seems.

He fits in perfectly. Able to talk about a plethora of topics to anyone he's introduced to and even she's impressed by him. Be it travel, philosophy or poetry he seems well versed in everything things that even she is ignorant to and it makes her regret the way she looked down on him before, he was anything but a country bumpkin.

She leaves him to his conversation to get a drink, a whiskey on the rocks. Needing something hard tonight.

Not that. Down brain.

"Yoon Hye Jin? I would recognize that face anywhere."

Twisting to face the voice, she sees a familiar face- old classmate. Rung Do-Bae, they weren't anything more than classmates despite his many, many attempts.

His eyes sweep over her hungrily. She swallows her drink, painting on a shallow smile.

"Sunbae, how nice to see you here."

Invading her space he grabs her hand, "There is no need for such formalities. You can just call me by my name, Hye Jin ah."

As if she ever would.

Gently she tries to extract her hand but he won't let go and she doesn't want to make a scene.

Suddenly she's warmed by a body pressing into her, she knows who it is without even looking, her body relaxes immediately.

"Sorry I got lost in conversation honey. Who might this be? Another friend of yours?" He thrusts his right hand out and Do-Bae has no choice but to release her hand to return his handshake. Scarily enough she's starting to become used to his nickname, barely reacting to him using it again.

"Yes, this is my sunbae from school. Sunbae this is Hong Du Sik my....."

She knows that this is all an act, they were doing this to help her but she can't bring her tongue to form around the word, boyfriend.

"Her boyfriend." He finishes for her, pulling her tighter to his body.

But Do-Bae looks suspicious now.

"Boyfriend? I thought you were still single. You never changed your status on SNS. I've checked."

"Why are you so curious about that?" Du-sik challenges in return, doing a great job of sounding like a jealous boyfriend. She's almost even convinced.

"Hye Jin ah and I have always had a very special relationship. Beyond that of a hoobae and sunbae. Isn't that right?" He directs the last bit to her and she feels Du-sik stiffen next to her, seemingly believing these lies. So she clears that up.

"I have no idea what you're referring to honestly. We have never had anything that would constitute as a "special" relationship. I would appreciate if you didn't spread such lies, especially to my boyfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She tugs Du-sik away, not waiting for a reply from the other man. The conversation was over anyway.

When they get far enough he speaks, "You have a lot of admirers."

She raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur.

"Are you surprised?"

He brushes a hand across her cheek, making her freeze.

"No. It makes sense."

She blinks slowly before laughing, it sounds fake even to her ears.

"You should have been an actor. Your acting skills are incredible." He doesn't laugh, doesn't move before they're pulled into another conversation and she tries not to think about how tightly his body is pressed against her own.

"How is he in bed? He hasn't left you alone all day, I bet it's passionate." As soon as lunch had ended they had invited her to a spa, she'd considered saying no but she knew they would talk about her even if she wasn't there so it was best to at least know what they were saying.

Du-sik looked sad to see her go, but she told herself that she wasn't good at reading his faces. They hardly knew each other.

"I can't remember the last time I had a passionate night of sex. Kids and a full time job, leave no time for that. I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me and I'm too tired to even care." Sung-Mi confesses and she's shocked when the others nod in agreement instead of threatening to castrate him, as she'd done when Mi-seon told her about her ex boyfriend cheating.

"I have no complaints. He's... attentive. He's always touching me and pushing his way into my space. He's gentle but passionate, and I like...that he's so much bigger than me." She knows she should stop, this is definitely taking the lies too far. But that night bleeds into her thoughts, making everything she's saying feel true. He'd been so gentle with her, those huge hands cupping her face. She wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body.

"Damn. Look at you getting horny just from remembering. I'm so jealous."

Jealous. There were envious of her, it was all she'd been hoping for but the happiness she expected to erupt never comes. Instead she feels cheap, like she'd used Du-sik for her own benefit. She had tainted that night. This wasn't what she wanted.

As the day had gone on she found herself looking at him too much, he'd come all the way just for her and regardless of her brain trying to minimize that, it was huge. He hated snobby people like them who based a person's worth in their monetary success and yet he put on a smile and chatted with everyone, letting them mock his way of life and call people like him useless dreamers. All while she did nothing to defend him and drank wine, happy that they were being accepted.

He was the perfect gentleman all day and he was getting nothing in return for this. It was all just to help her.

Would a friend truly go this far to help? Was she being naive or was it like Mi-seon said, was she lying to herself?

"I'm such an idiot."

Without another word, she flees the sauna rushing to the locker room and changing back into her clothes. Nobody follows her because they aren't her friends. Why had she wasted so much time trying to impress these people who aren't even truly happy in their own lives?

The drive back is long, and she doesn't know what she's going to say but she knows that she's tired of being scared.

Leaving the key in the car she rushes past the valet, into the hotel elevator pressing their floor and waiting impatiently.

It takes three tries to get into their hotel room but once the door opens, he's right there. Sitting in the seat by the window reading a book.

"You're back early. I thought you would be gone until three?" He looks up, dog earring his book and giving her his full attention. Her heart skips a beat.

"Why did you agree to do this for me? Why go through all this trouble for me?"

It's the same question he's been asking himself since he first met her. Why was he was interested in her and why did he keep wanting to save her?

It was the desire that led to him being here.

He had accidentally overhead Mi-seon talking to Eun Chol about being worried about her, the convention was overnight and everyone would be bringing someone and she'd be all alone. The thought of her alone and isolated, made him race to her without a plan. Only stopping at a store to buy his outfit so he would fit in with her crowd, he'd spent more in that shop then he usually did in a week. But it was worth it for her.

It was a miracle that she hadn't questioned his presence more, he knew it was shameless and deceiving but none of this felt like pretending to him. His jealousy had been real, he'd had to strangle the urge to kick the pervert husband with the wandering eyes and then the insistent sunbae who wouldn't take a hint. She was a vision in the red dress and it wasn't a surprise that men found her enchanting, he just didn't like them looking at her. But she wasn't his, never would be because he couldn't confess.

They weren't right for each other.

"Do you like me?"

That question again. Last time he had laughed it off, called it absurd. But it wasn't. Not liking her would have been absurd.

"I don't know why you're asking me that."

"Because I'm tired of us lying to ourselves. Don't laugh and don't you dare say it's absurd again."

He can't respond, he's stuck on the word "us". It wasn't just him, they were an us?

Hearing that gives him courage he had long thought had been most forever.

"I wasn't pretending today. Nothing was fake to me, I meant it all." It's terrifying, unchartered land for them and he waits to see which one of them will chicken out first. It's sure to happen.

"I'm going to kiss you." She says instead of running like he expected and secretly wished for.

And then she's crossing the room and leaning down to grab his face, she watches him giving him a chance to pull away but he does the opposite, this time he meeting her half way. As soon as their lips meet the kiss is already too much, she's sliding into his lap and he wraps his arms around her tugging her closer until their chests are squished together.

He hasn't kissed anyone like this in a long time.

Hasn't been this close to losing control in a longer time.

"You're dangerous." He whispers into her mouth and she giggles at the statement, wiggling in his arms and rolling into him forcing a punched out groan from his lips.

Carefully he lifts her shirt watching her face closely for any signs that she wants to stop but finding nothing but her palpable lust.

Her skin is unbelievably smooth and soft and he can't stop himself from stroking her, rubbing at her back his hands resting right above her butt.

"How long have you felt this way?" She asks softly seductively nipping at his neck and running a hand over his shirt to caress his stomach, he physically aches for her.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I didn't feel this until you convinced grandma to get her implants. That was when it became more for me."

She looks surprised and he is too, that they're speaking so candidly about feelings they've always denied.

"What about you?"

She stops licking at his neck to look him in the eyes. He's nervous to hear her reply.

"I.... don't know."

He tries to hide his disappointment. Maybe she was starting to retreat back into her shell. Maybe he shouldn't have been so honest.

He's about to untangle them when she continues, "It wasn't at first sight but one day I found myself looking for you. Seeing you become the best part of my day, I started to count on you to be there for me. To expect it. Just like this, I've been scared to lean on anyone until I met you."

Now that's a confession.

Impulsively he stands with her still on his lap, forcing her to to latch onto him so she doesn't tumble to the floor. Not that this would ever happen because he would never let her fall.

"I could have fell!" She cries, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her half naked bra clad body so close to him is causing another biological crisis in his pants.

Walking to the large bed in the middle of the room he falls backwards, enjoying the view of her on top of him a little too much.

It's all probably too soon and they should probably slow down, but his body is strumming and he wants nothing more than to break her apart.

"I'm all sweaty. I should take a shower."

Instantly an image of her wet and naked under the downpour of a shower flashes in his mind and he has to twist away from her.

"Pervert." She accuses but he can hear how satisfied she is with his reaction. Damn tease.

"Do you want to join me?" She teases some more, having fun now that she knows her power over him.

He looks at her helplessly.

"Are you having fun? Remember what I told you before? I'm still a guy. You're sitting here in your bra taunting me, do you think I'm that much of a good guy? Do you think I don't want to throw you down, rip your clothes off and eat you alive? I'm so hard right now just seeing you naked would be enough to push me over the edge. So don't make propositions you can't follow through on."

She looks dizzy from his words, eyes hooded and glossy. He watches her gulp and then stagger off to the bathroom, without a word to him. It's probably for the best, everything is too charged right now.

A shower for her and many glasses of water for him later, she's back and it's almost time for dinner.

"I think they said dinner starts at 6. Should we head down?"

She glances at him, while opening her bag and pulling out skin creams and some fuzzy socks.

"Would you be opposed to ordering room service and staying here?"

It's the best offer he's heard all day, only second to her asking if he wanted to join her in the shower.

"What about your colleagues?" He asks to make certain that she's really okay with this.

"What about them?" She replies with a shrug and he grins picking up the room service menu.

They order too much food and not enough alcohol but neither of them want to forget this night. She tells him stories about her time in dental school and he's happy to get to know her better, chuckling at the funny stories and commiserating at the sad ones.

Before he knows it night has fallen.

And he realizes that they'll be sharing a bed. Unless she wants him to sleep on the couch.

She's wearing a big shirt and loose shorts and he still can't believe he gets to see her like this.

"Are you coming to bed?" She's already getting under the sheet and that answers his question, this is really happening. He starts to follow her lead, getting under the sheets but keeping a respectable distance between them.

"I'm cold." She announces suddenly and he starts to look for a thermostat in the room or an extra blanket, before realizing that she's looking at him over her shoulder, he stares back confused before she lifts an eyebrow and oh, he gets it. Carefully moving closer he feels her warmth surround him as they meet, forth to back.

"Took you long enough." She grumbles, pulling his arm over here body and settling back into him moving until she's comfortable.

She's so close and warm and her smell is all around him and he feels his restraint dissolving and when she presses back into him, her hip rubbing against his crotch he bites down on his bottom lip.

It's too much for him to resist and without warning or preamble, he's turning her to face him and swallowing her moan of surprise eagerly. He grabs her head firmly holding her in place and slips his tongue into her open mouth, her unique taste exploding on his taste buds. He's hungry for more. So he starts to tug down her shorts, heart beat thundering in his groin. She kicks the shorts away, and he groans at the sight of her panties she was trying to kill him, he was certain.

"You're the devil." He chokes out staring at red lace, he'll never be able to see the color again without getting a raging hard on.

"You haven't seen anything yet. Honey." The word drips from her tongue just like the real thing.

Forgetting all reason and logics he lunges at her, devouring her mouth and sticking his hand in her panties. She's so warm and fuck, wet drenching his fingers.

Simultaneously he thrusts his tongue into her mouth and his fingers in her wet folds, groaning as she melts like butter under his touch. There's no resistance, as he plunges two fingers inside her experimentally before picking up his place when she clutches onto him and grinds back on his fingers, begging the whole time.

"More, more, please!"

As if he could ever deny her anything, with one hand he grabs her ass and the other he thrusts into her opening over and over until her voice gets breathy and she starts to stutter, squirming wildly in his arms and he knows exactly what's coming: the beautiful end. So without warning he pulls back the sheet and slithers down her body, throwing her legs around his head and pushing his tongue in to the brim, hungrily drinking at her until she shakes and combusts in his arms. Sweet on his tongue, he swallows it all greedily.

He strokes her as she recovers from her high, climbing back up her body. So much for taking things slow, but he can't even think about regretting it when he sees the blissed out look on her face. He wants to imprint it in his mind. Nobody else will ever get to see this face but him.

"It's your turn." She says sounding loopy like she's drunk and he laughs as she reaches for the tent in his pants but misses his bulge and instead falls into him.

"You're tired. Go to sleep. That was enough for me, seeing you like that fulfilled every fantasy I've had. "

He truly means it. He's a giver. And it's not like he can't tug one out later in the bathroom with her face and moans playing on repeat in his brain.

She starts to argue, but her phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts her. Reaching over she picks it up before chuckling and flopping back into the bed.

"What?" He asks curious, jealous of whoever is making her smile like that.

Ignorant to his inner thoughts, she thrusts her phone into his face. The room is so dark it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the phone, but once he can see he reads the message on her phone and starts to laugh too.

"Dusik is missing! Nobody has seen him all day!! We started a search party."

[oksana-moods]

Supernova

Summary: As the seasons passes you by, it is inevitable for you to watch the fall.

A/N: This is an AU requested by the darling @multi-muse-transect and you might find it in here. This request filled me with joy and worries at the same time, because it was hard to create a visible story in my head before trying to write it down. But I really enjoyed all the research about Nova Corps, hence it took me a little more than intended.

Warnings: Language, marvel’s canon violence… if there is any other that I should mention, please, let me know.

“You take my breath away. You're a supernova and I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon.”

#not my pic

Carol is at a window looking at the sculptures and other buildings of Hala, she’s just arrived from a mission against Kree insurgents. ‘They're like weeds’, she thinks. No matter how hard she fights or fights back, they always come back and never learn that against the Empress they will never succeed.

The lights are beautiful in Hala, but they will never compare to the lights of the Old Earth. She takes a look at the latest reports of her home planet's reconstruction on the table beside her and sighs, knowing that New Earth will soon be ready.

Years ago, Ronan attacked Earth with the intention of destroying Carol and he did, in fact, destroy her heart. Even though she could absorb and redirect energy, she failed to destroy all the missiles before they hit the ground and then it was over. And the beginning at the same time.

Completely possessed by the grief of losing her home and loved ones, Carol went hunting for the Kree and, more importantly, for the Supreme Intelligence and, one by one, Carol brought down her tormentors until she became the Empress of Kree, residing in Hala.

Her patrols to different galaxies have been reduced as she monitors the Kree group responsible for rebuilding the Earth, chases mutineers and still rules the Empire. Her Empire. There's not even time for karaoke, she thinks, as her eyes follows a shooting star across the night sky of her capital.

Her eyes narrow when said shooting star seems to take a route, rather than a random path, because it is a celestial body without navigation. This shooting star is, in fact, very different, she observes. And, almost a second late, she notices that someone is heading right for her.

Taking her by surprise, you hit the balcony glass as if it were nothing and saw Carol's body hurl against the wall with the impact of your body. Not even spending a breath, it's your turn to be hurled against the wall when Carol fights back even harder than you.

You fight, exchange punches and blows. You notice that she's slightly surprised to find a worthy opponent, something that's still unheard of. Until today. Until you.

And that intrigues her, how could someone be so powerful without her knowing?

"Did the Kree insurgents send you?" She asks after you collide on Hala’s sky, the noise and vibrations being felt even in buildings far away from the fight.

"No." You answer. “I was sent by Nova Prime to deal with you” You barely finish your sentence, and you attack Carol again, but she's confused. She had heard of Nova Prime when she was still a Kree soldier. When she fought for the wrong side.

She then looks at you once more. She takes in the clothes you're wearing and your helmet, which covers your eyes with a blueish light but leaves your chin bare. The symbol that resembles a star painted in red on your golden helmet indicated what you are. Nova Corp. You are a corpsman.

A bright, gold insignia in a form of three circles linked in your chest shines even in the dark, showing her that you’re not an ordinary corpsman, but a Centurion. You are Nova Corps’ Commander. Okay, that explain why you’re so powerful.

"What do you want with me?" She asks without the slightest pretension to continue fighting and for the first time you don't attack, you stop and look at her. Wow, the reports of her strength and agility were consistent with what you see, but there was nothing about her beauty. Shaking your head, you answer it.

"Justice." Seeing the confused expression on Carol's perfect face, you continue. "You are crushing the democracy that existed for the inhabitants of this planet, the countless reports of an empress overthrowing entire communities have crossed galaxies."

"Justice, you say." You see her eyes flash with anger and hatred. "And what justice does Nova Prime intend to give Earth?" She approaches dangerously and you have to remind yourself to not cower under her glare.

"The Kree have destroyed my home, so I won't give them one until the New Earth is rebuilt and populated." The threat in her gaze, in her posture, was tangible. "And nothing and no one in the universe will make me concede freedom to this barbaric species."

"Being a barbarian yourself?" You turn your head to the side in a questioning tone, but she takes it as irony. Maybe it was. “An eye for an eye, as earthlings are fond of saying. Or should I say, used to like?” A kind of roar was the only warning before her fist collided with your face.

"Wash your mouth before you talk about Earth, soldier." She patched up a string of blows you couldn't get out of. "Nova Empire has always fought the Kree, why they want to protect them now?"

She was strong; you've already figured that out, but like many other very powerful beings in the universe, they tend to think they're the only ones with powers. Absorbing most of the blows and directing the energy against the empress, you use your power blast and with that, once again, Carol is hurled against the wall of her palace.

As an automatic response, Carol uses the powers of her fist and you feel the force of a thousand cannons throwing you backwards into space, grunting right after with the impact of Carol's body, engaging the fight once more.

You could tell that she was angry and, according to your studies, humans tended to be guided by such frivolous feelings. And that was something you intended to use to your advantage.

Being two beings bestowed with stamina, the fight would go on for hours until someone got tired, but if she uses her powers erratically and drenched in rage, she will be drained quicklier.

“I am the Empress of the Kree Empire! Answer me!" The tone of voice in which she addresses you makes it clear that your goal of getting under her skin is working. With a smirk, you respond.

“Nova Empire takes care of the galaxy and has balance as its main goal, your highness. To overpower other species is not our intention.” Your response seems to enrage her even more and the only reaction you got from her was more blows and more blasts in your direction.

You dodge, you block, and you realize she's getting careless then letting her guard down. And that's where you come in with quick jabs almost powerless, only to enrage her more and more. Just to remind her that even an Empress has weaknesses.

You hit the ground and certainly the people throughout the city felt like it was an earthquake. Something was off and before you could react, Carol hits you with a blast right in the middle of the chest, throwing you meters and meters into a random building.

This time, you start feeling the impact on every wall you hit. You feel dizzy, your hand is shaking, and you find yourself bleeding. ‘What's going on?’ You think as you watch Carol's figure to grow in your field of vision.

The smirk on her face is ridiculously sexy, but you barely have time to make any comments before her voice reaches your ears. "Apparently, you're not that tough without your helmet on, are you?"

You look at her hand that is carrying what was once your helmet, now just broken shards and she drops it into your lap. Without your helmet you are ruined, as is your mission.

The smirk and one last punch were the last thing you remember before she knocks you down cold.

---

Your head was about to explode inside your skull, and you blink at the light entering your cell. All that brightness was not helping your headache at all.

It's been a few days since you've been taken prisoner by Empress Carol Danvers and whether Xandar knows or has noticed your disappearance is something you have no idea of. And when Nova Prime sends reinforcements after you it won't be pretty.

Before proceeding on your mission, you had already been informed that all diplomatic avenues had been tried but completely closed by the Empress. That way, Xandar wouldn't try negotiations to try to get you back. Perhaps this would trigger a new war.

A war you couldn't afford. Certainly, you didn't want the weight of being the trigger or the spark in a cold battle of inflated tempers on your shoulders. Carol had a very short fuse, as you witnessed firsthand, while Prime could be an slayer when the situation called for it.

Days passed, becoming weeks and your monotonous existence is only interrupted by the Empress's daily visits. Visits that you don't know why she still keeps, when it's pretty obvious that you have no information to provide.

You are a member of the Nova Corp and have been sent on a solo mission to "dissuade" the Empress from continuing to rule her own empire with an iron fist. There were no ulterior motives, no espionage or reinforcements waiting in the moon not far from Hala.

You were a single, last resource. There was nothing but you and your broken form. A failed soldier.

You were standing, watching the sun shining on buildings across Hala through the small window in your cell, admiring the dots circling farther down the street, almost forgetting that each dot was a person. You wonder if Carol forgets who they are.

"Um, admiring my city, I see." You spare her a brief glance before you return it to the window. She was in a red robe with local designs, and you can't shake off your head at how beautiful she is. How beautiful she looks in red. Or any other color.

You don't exactly know why Carol still comes to your cell, but you can't lie to yourself that you don't like it. You do. But you convince yourself that any company is better than the solitude of these walls, just that and nothing else.

She is an empress after all. A Sovereign, considered by many to be evil and tyrant. But each gentle gesture towards you reminds you that her hands are stained with blood. Like yours. Your conscience doesn't seem to know which side it should be on.

"Forgive me if my boredom is exacerbated, your city is the only thing I have left to admire." You answer still looking ahead, afraid to look at her and be mesmerized. The Empress was a mystery that captivated you, as her answers were never what you would expect them to be. Just like now.

“I could end your boredom. Hala’s Summer Trade is famous across the galaxy, have you ever tasted Pluot Fruit?” Your head swivel towards her so fast it feels like a whip.

"Summer?" Quickly you do the math in your head, in this solar system the days and seasons were longer than in Xandar, so... "How long have I been kept in here?"

"Too long, Nova." Nova? What kind of nickname is this? Shaking your head, you question her. "Nova? This is not my name." She giggles and moves closer to the energy field that makes up your cell door, she’s one yard away so you can smell her perfume. White jasmine.

“I know it isn't. But I decided to abbreviate the title of Nova Corps to Nova, besides, I own this place…” she opens her arms to emphasize what she's talking about. "I can call you whatever I want, prisoner."

You decide to play her game and with a smirk on your face you respond. “Prisoner? Now, seconds ago weren’t you inviting me for a walk, your highness?”

You lick your lips when you see her face contorting in a mix of anger and something else, but what, you don't know. “You abuse my benevolence too much. Your precious Xandar never tried to open a ransom deal, you are of no use to them or to me.”

Her words crash into your chest, and you feel your heart break a little more. Months have passed and there was no sign of another corpsman coming to your rescue and now she tells you that Nova Prime didn't even try to negotiate your freedom.

You close your eyes and with small, defeated steps you walk to the window. A lifetime dedicated to Nova Corp and Xandar, to be abandoned like a stray dog ​​lost from its owners. Like someone worthless.

Defeated and hopeless, you ask Empress Carol why she still keeps you alive. Standing in the hallway leading to the dungeons hall she smiles triumphantly and speaks. "For my entertainment, prisoner."

--

"What do you think of the Pluot?" Carol's voice breaks your train of thought.

"Strangely delicious." You respond by referring to the strange appearance, as if it was a dried fruit and not completely juicy right after tasting it.

As with the fruit, such was your surprise to see Carol's interaction with her subjects. Many of them kept their distance, paid their obeisance and respects to the Empress, and continued on their way with their heads low.

However, a reassuring number of people seemed to genuinely like or even admire Carol and not out of obligation. Doing a 180° turn in the opinion you once held of the Empress, she was extremely adorable when interacting with children.

Who knew the fearsome tormentor of the Kree empire would be so… human? How can someone, who keeps a prisoner just for her own pleasure, be so kind? You wonder if they were the same person at all.

She smiles in response to what you said and you smile back, completely unsure of the reasons why you do.

After the Hala market tour went without incident, that is, without any attempt to escape on your part, Carol has granted you the right to stroll through the inner gardens of her palace. As much as you want to hate the way she plays as if you were a puppet, you can't.

You try to hate her, but each day you spend in her company makes it harder for you to deny the feeling that, gradually, grows in your chest. Then, you find yourself desperate to hang this passion before it's too late.

Your morning walks allow you to see autumn slowly approaching, little by little, with each leaf touching the ground. And if you used to enjoy Carol's garden alone, over time, the Empress's company became part of your routine.

"Why are you still keeping me alive, Carol?" You rarely addressed her by the title of empress or nobility, and she never forced you to use it, she seemed not to care whether you recognized her power or not. Nor did he seem to mind when you used it ironically.

"I like your company." She answered and that made you look directly into her eyes. "It isn't every day that I find a match." Her answer made something boil in your chest and you had to force your heart to understand that she was probably referring to the fight.

"I'm not a match for you, your highness." You spoke. "Everything special about me came from an enhanced helmet." A sad smile danced on your lips, remembering how powerless you felt when you saw it broken in her hand. You remembered how broken you felt yourself.

“Everything special about you comes from your heart, Nova.” Her tone was low and as much as you wanted, there was nothing to grasp in it. She spoke this sentence as if she were speaking about the weather but for you it just set your heart on fire.

--

Between stories from a lifetime ago, when Carol was only a human being without a single clue that the universe was bigger than her world and stories from her time adapting and training in Hala, you felt yourself slowly but surely falling for her.

The change for you was visible and you prayed it would be visible only to you. If before you thought she was beautiful, now she’s extremely attractive in your eyes. Even when choosing simple robes, Carol was always dressed impeccably.

After spending so much time together, it was only a matter of time before you realized that the Empress was possessed of vast intellect and knowledge about many different things.

But what strike you most was how funny and mundane she could be, yet, she still had that special something in her eyes that never failed in make you weak. You were a prisoner, indeed. A prisoner of her eyes.

Unlike many extremely powerful beings, Carol was humble enough to listen to your stories, and even encouraged you to tell more details about yourself. She never quite understood, but something about you drew her as if you were a magnet.

The sparkle in your eyes as you spoke about your homeland, friends, or your passion and honor in serving Nova Corp thrilled her. There were many things in you that stirred emotions in her, as well as aroused feelings that she thought she was no longer capable of feeling for a long time.

And so, without realizing it and at the same time fully aware of what was going on beneath her skin, the Empress fell in love with her Prisoner.

--

Winter at Hala marked when your quarters were no longer a cell but a room in Empress's palace. Larger than your home in Xandar, the room was beautifully decorated with art, and you could discern some Xandar artwork. You wonder if it was coincidence.

Despite being as warm as a star, Carol suggested that both of you should trade your walks in the garden for spending time in the library available at the palace. And that's how you began to be the Empress's company during her meals.

It started with lunch and then evolved into dinner and now Carol finds herself waiting for your presence before even touching her plate. ‘I shouldn't allow myself such weakness’, she thought. However, she couldn't bring herself to change or to avoid the need of your company.

--

"I beg your pardon?" You speak, barely able to avoid spilling your soup. The increasingly warm but shy rays of the sun and the many animals strolling in the courtyard tell you that spring is just around the corner. And that's exactly what almost made you spill the soup, in first place.

Carol cleared her throat, promptly speaking again, as if you had not heard her from the first time. “I’d be delighted if you grant me the honor of your company for the Spring Ball due in two weeks.” She looked at you expectantly.

Your mind was swirling as to why she would want you as her company, out of all people. She was the Empress; she could have anyone she wanted by her side. Yet, here she was, asking you to be her date.

The time in Hala flew slower as it did in Xandar, but it felt like the opposite, for the Ball came faster than you thought it be possible.

And here you were, walking down the entrance stairs in a beautiful golden gown with Carol’s arm locked with yours. Her deep green dress was marvelous and when you saw her welcoming you with that pretty smile of hers you thought you could melt.

Much to your dismay, Carol could sing just as she’d told you she could, but you never believed in her. It wasn’t hard for you to realize that you were free falling in love with her even more than you already were. If it was possible, you fell in love again. You’d be her prisoner, forever.

As the night went on, you were mesmerized by the ball, the music, and the way of life in Hala. It felt like a different life, one that very much resembled prince and princess’ tales that you heard when you were a kid.

A life that didn’t quite belong to you but looking into her eyes it made it feel like everything was possible, reachable, as if her power could create a different world. Just as she did. As ruler of the Kree empire, she created a new kingdom.

Standing in the balcony, you welcomed the cold air hitting your skin that was inebriating your senses, previously flooded by the Empress. The stars illuminated the sky of Hala making the city bellow you even prettier.

A soft touch in your hand brings your gaze back to its owner and a small gasp scape your lips when you see how close she is, even more so when you wish she were closer. “I never told you how beautiful you are tonight.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me, your highness. You’re flawless yourself.” A small smile creeped up her lips and you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with hers, proven to be a hard task when she started to lean into your ear.

“There is something that I wanted to tell you for a while ago.” Her hands on your waist made it difficult for you to pay attention to her words, along with the feel of her cheek touching your cheeks made your knees weak.

“You’re no longer a prisoner and you can leave Hala if you want to.” Her thumb drew patterns where it touched you and you could feel your skin burning. “You’re free, but I wish you’d stay here.” She backed down and now her eyes were boring into yours.

“I wish you’d stay here with me.” She stressed.

Your heart and head were running thousand miles per hour in completely opposite directions. The rational part of you wanted to take your freedom and go back to Xandar, even though you should find it suspicious that, almost after a year, she’d let you go. Specially after you’d learned so much about Hala. About her.

However, your heart’s been slowly giving itself to this woman right in front of you, and there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay here with her. Surely, you felt left behind by Nova Prime, but it still stings in you that no one came after you. Not even a fellow corpsman.

‘Not one that you know, for that matter.’ You shook your conscience’s voice away and gave in to your heart. The rational part of you broke at the exact same time as did your helmet.

“Carol, I…” You begin but she interrupts you by placing an oh so soft lips on yours and there is no voice to hear anymore. Nor rational, nor emotional. There are only her lips pouring her heart into a kiss and you do just the same.

Right in that moment you felt as if your heart was about to melt, maybe it would, if she hadn’t broken the kiss and rested her forehead in yours.

“Tell me you’ll stay and rule by my side.” Before the true meaning of her words could sink in, the sky of Hala suddenly shone as if thousands of stars appeared right in that moment, drawing the attention of you both.

Not long until you realized that it wasn’t stars, but thousands of spaceships painting the night over your heads, and you’d recognize those ships anywhere. Xandar was here. And a voice that you’d never forget was heard above all noise.

“I am Nova Prime and Xandar declares war to Empress Carol, accused of murdering Nova Corps’ Commander.”

‘Why are they accusing her of murder?’ You thought to yourself. It does not make sense that she’s being accused of killing you when you’re alive. Unless…

“Carol, what did you do?”

[dinner-djarin]

Next To You (Bucky x reader)

Just a little one shot I wrote after watching FATWS on repeat. (I tried to make it gender neutral but I may have missed something so I'm sorry if it's not!)

Rating: Mature

No use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Bucky is having nightmares, and you're there to comfort him. Based on the Julia Michaels song If You Need Me. (so if the ending sounds dumb go listen to the song you'll understand why lol)

Warnings: Fluff & angst I guess idk, kinda dark themes, because well it's Bucky. Just two people who have definitely been through some shit. Oh ya that reminds me swearing. Suggested that intercourse has happened but nothing descriptive. A little (a lot) about trauma but mostly about nightmares. If I missed something pls lemme know, I don't want anyone to feel triggered reading. But if you can watch the show and be fine, you'll probably be okay with this.

Also just letting you know if I put ~ its cause I switch the focus from Bucky to reader, but I'm not switching POV completely its all written in reader POV.

Every night brought pieces of the past. He never knew which memory would be dragged to the surface once he let his subconscious take over - clawing and scrapping against the walls he put up, begging to be let out; to be confronted.

Some nights were worse than others of course.

He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to out run the monsters of his past. For a while he just stopped sleeping. It may not have been a permanent fix, but he thought some relief was better than none at all. He used to go days, even weeks, without sleep during the war, so he figured it might be the best way to silence the past.

Dr. Raynor, however, caught on quick.

A lot of her methods seemed like bullshit to Bucky. He could tell she was genuinely trying to help him, but he doubted anything she had anything to offer him that would prove to be effective.

But at the end of the day she was definitely no fool. He had a tough time lying to her. She didn’t take anyone's crap, and that might have been the only reason he trusted her, even a little. It may have been the only reason he actually gave it a sincere try (besides the fact he’d be arrested if he didn’t).

So he probably shouldn’t have been surprised when she caught on to his sleep strike. In fact she called him out on it only three days in. He thought he’d get longer than that. Even so, he was almost relieved. After only 72 hours he already felt the nightmares slowly creeping into the day. Every time a door slammed or a car horn blared his body tensed. Every time he turned a corner he’d reach for a knife he no longer carried. So maybe it was better to let his past haunt his nightmares. That way he’d be alone when the memories took over. That way he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

But he made a mistake. He did what he told himself he could never do. He let you get too close.

Falling asleep in your arms felt better than any therapy session he could ever imagine. It was the first time in forever he could remember what it was like to be his younger self. The version of him that marvelled at the idea of flying cars; who thought he could save the world by enlisting. The dreamy eyed boy who was hopeful for the future, who thought he had a future.

Lying next to you made him feel in control, like his problems didn’t matter. He was there to keep you safe, and warm, and comfortable. He never thought he’d feel like that with anyone. He didn’t think he was allowed.

You didn’t question his metal arm for starters. When Bucky took off his jacket, after the hundredth time you insisted - “It’s like 100 degrees in here Bucky, please take it off, you’re gonna melt” - he thought he’d instantly regret it. But you simply looked at it with wonder for only a moment, before returning your eyes up to his own. Staring back at you, he saw the wheels in your brain click into place. He could almost hear your thoughts as you decided what your next move would be.

In the blink of his eyes you tore your shirt off and stood completely still in front of him. For a moment his emotions were mixed, and he worried where your sudden advancement came from, but then he saw it. A thick white mark slashed across your torso.

You took only one step forward before speaking. “It’s not exactly… I know it’s not the same thing at all. But the scars - the marks we carry - they’ll be with us forever, whether we like it or not. Even if they remind us of the worst pieces of ourselves, or the worst moments of our lives, it reminds us that we can move forward. And it reminds me that there’s something to move forward to. I don’t know…it doesn’t really make any sense but somehow it’s almost comforting.  To know that something will always be with us, till the end”

His mouth was on yours in an instant.

He had been hesitant to let anyone in. After coming back - after going through everything he’d been through - he felt like damaged goods. He worried that the minute he let himself be happy, everything would come crashing down again, and he had good reason to believe it. It just kept happening over and over. It seemed like every time he found even a small amount of peace, the battle made its way back to him.

But when he found you, when he felt you, he felt peace. The softness of your skin, the gentle wave of your hair, the light scrape of your fingernails against his back and chest, your quiet moans muffled by his own mouth on yours. Being with you made the horrors of his past melt away. Even when you clamped down around him and bit into his shoulder muscle, even when he knew you’d left marks all over his skin. Knowing they came from you made all the difference. They didn’t remind him of the wars he fought, or lives he took, or the atrocities he committed. The sting of your nails and teeth weren’t pains from his past, they were reminders of his present, of the possibility of a life he could have. With you.

But in the end he knew that it was all wishful thinking. He knew he wasn’t cut out for that type of future. He knew you deserved better.

So he decided to let you off easy, to disappear from your life, leaving your shared experience to the confines of your bedroom. A memory, nothing more. He knew he’d have to sneak away once you fell asleep, because that way it might not feel real. Everything that happened between you might disappear with him.

But then he fucked up.

He was waiting for your breath to even out, a sign he would take to mean you had fallen asleep, but after listening to the air rush out of your body, and watching your bare chest rise and fall, your hypnotic essence overpowered his will, and he fell asleep alongside you.

Only he wasn’t asleep for long.

Eventually the past caught up, as it always had a way of doing. Images, and sounds, and smells all came flooding back to his uninhibited brain - sleep made him an easy target. He was vulnerable to every torment he caused, and every mission he was forced to carry out. Tonight was no exception. His brain managed to sift through every wall he thought he had up, and trudge yet another painful memory to the surface. The image of himself taking life after life, cruelly and viciously. There was no remorse, no stopping him. He saw every crime lord and politician he was made to terminate. Until his brain moved away to a new idea. The image of a young woman. Innocent and pure. But in the way of his mission. The Winter Soldier spared none.

He woke up in a blind panic. His surroundings were unfamiliar. Something was wrong. Was he being held captive or-

~

“Hey,” you made yourself known to him, and he twisted his head back to see you sit up beside him. You were quiet, and a worried expression blanketed your face.

Is he angry, you thought for a moment? No. Your brain was tired, and it was slow to process. Not angry, scared.

You knew from the minute you saw his arm that there was more going on. You already had some suspicions, nevertheless you expected there to be something like this.

For a moment, the two of you stared at each other in silence. You watched him regain his breath, and you carefully shifted your legs to sit crossed underneath you.

His steel blue eyes cut through the darkness, pinning you down. You wondered what was going on in his mind, what he might be doing to regain his grip on reality. You knew this moment too well. The quiet. The darkness. The fear. Not sure of how to move forward.

You were scared too, but not of him - more like you were scared for him. You knew he must be going through something, and you wanted to be there to help, but you also knew that was easier said than done. “Being there to help” was a nice concept, but in reality - well things were generally more complicated. You didn’t know if it’d be alright to approach him, mainly because you were unsure of your role in all this. Were you really someone he wanted around when he was so obviously vulnerable? You’d never seen him so raw and exposed, like a wound you wished you could tend to, while also fearing that your interference could make things worse.

You knew he wasn’t going to ask for your help, you could see he wasn’t that kind of man, but maybe if you made the first step, and let him choose - maybe he’d let you in. So, you held out your hand and waited. After a moment, you saw him move, only slightly though. His eyes darted down towards your hand and he subtly lifted his fingers off the bed. But it only lasted a second. He froze again, hand hovering near yours, and that’s when you realized he had been reaching for you with his left hand. You had been wary to touch it before, you thought it was probably a sensitive subject. Something about the idea of touching his metal arm seemed more personal, if that was possible. Like only the most trusted people in his life might be allowed to… and maybe not even then.

You felt your own eyes drop to your lap, an almost nervous energy now emanating in the space between you. But just before you could drop your hand too, his fingers hesitantly entwine with yours.

You shot your eyes up to see his right hand grazing the palm of your left. As your gaze slowly elevated, you found your way to meet his own eyes, only to notice the very sudden change in them. Whatever fear or darkness hid their before had now melted away. You couldn’t place it, but whatever emotion he now held sent a chill from your core to your fingertips. A lump in your throat formed and for a moment, you thought you might never be able to breath again. The look in his eyes was almost soft, but with a hint of yearning. Fire was blazing through every nerve in your body, while a chill kissed your skin, making every hair stand on edge.

Feeling outrageously brave, you took your free hand up to his jaw and held him there, gently swiping your thumb over his cheek, and allowing your fingers to reach slightly past his hairline and to the back of his neck. You wondered if he could feel the raging storm of your emotions through your touch.

“You okay?” you managed to whisper to him.

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before” his answer pierced your ears with a hard tone, refusing to let any vulnerability resonate in his voice.

You shake your head at him, wishing he wouldn’t play pretend. “Okay then,” you mumble, letting your hand drop from his face. But as it fell, Bucky was quick to grab it, and hold it with a gentle squeeze. When you looked at him again, you knew he meant it as a reassurance, trying to tell you that he was okay.

~

He couldn’t handle the way you looked at him. Like you could see every thought in his head. A knowing gleam in your eyes told him that you didn’t believe him, and you’d be right not to. He wasn’t okay. He never really was. There was so much darkness surrounding him, poisoning every inch of his life. But you. Your touch was gentle and your voice was kind, and even though he had just seen your scar, he couldn’t help but think your world must have been so much brighter than his own. Looking in your eyes, he almost wished he’d never met you. He was so afraid that his pain might infect you too, the only good thing he had left. He wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself if he let that happen; if he let his past ruin your future.

He wanted to leave, he needed to get out, before any of that could happen.

He slid off the bed quickly, and made his way to grab his clothes, but before he could you grabbed his hand - his left hand.

“Please Bucky don’t.” was all you could say. But the way your voice broke, on the verge of tears, fear of being rejected, of being left alone in the dark by the only man you ever wanted to let in - it was enough to stop his heart. He stood there, frozen from your touch. You kept his hand in yours, and for a second you worried it was too much. You worried you betrayed whatever trust you had built with him. Just holding his bare metal hand felt more violating and revealing than the fact that both of you remained completely naked. But you didn’t want to pull away. You didn’t want him to think you were afraid of him, afraid of the fact his hand could pulverize yours in a second - because you weren’t. You’d felt his touch. You knew how gentle and caring he could be. And you wanted him to see it too. That he wasn’t defined by his worst fears.

You pulled your body towards him, kneeling at the edge and facing him, “You don’t have to leave.” you spoke softly, as if he might be spooked and run off if you were any louder. “You don’t have to push everyone away. Please don’t push me away… I-”

Before you could finish, he was crashing into you. His tongue invading your mouth, like he was trying to soak up your unsaid words. His hands held your waist in place against his, steady and strong, but there was still resistance in his fingers; a hesitance to use too much force with you. You could feel how he feared he might hurt you.

Slowly you leaned back, feathering your fingers over his shoulders to guide him with you, and when he hovered over you, you let them slide into his hair, grabbing what you could and leading his head down…

~~~~

You lay there in the dark with your head on his chest, listening to his steady heart, feeling the crisp sting of metal graze your back. And even though you knew it was ridiculous, all you could think about was how you wanted to keep him safe. The man was stronger than any other human being, and probably thought you were fragile and helpless, and needed his protection more than anything. But still, you wanted him to be okay. You wanted him to know he could be safe.

“I’ll fight them for you.” you whimper quietly, suddenly worried that Bucky may have already fallen back to sleep.

“Huh? Who- what do you mean?” his words stuttered and tripped over his tongue. His half sleeping brain was suddenly running a mile a minute trying to decipher your statement. Who were you fighting? Why would you need to fight them for him? Surely he was more capable of fighting anyone off. He should be protecting you-

“The monsters” you said a little louder. The words feel childish and awkward in your mouth, and once you said them, you wished to take them back. But you decided to push forward, “if you want me to… if you need me… I’m here”

[nightshade-minho]

-Embers- (2)

warnings: heavy-ish suggestiveness, future smut, themes of heartbreak and pain, mentioned parent death, jealousy, angry fathers.

wc: 5.7k

Heartbreak.

It's something you've thought about, in theory. You've wondered how it feels to be heartbroken, especially when you were younger, when almost everything was of interest to your curious brain. Could a heart break? What exactly did that mean? 

Mr Yang's novels were your first introduction to characters who'd gone through that pain. His books had described it as a perpetual feeling of hurt, one which a person would never get over. You wondered if it was even possible to experience pain like that. Pain so bad you felt your heart shattering.

You still remembered that day you thought about it properly for the first time.

***

You shut your book and looked over at Minho, who had been cloudgazing as he waited for you to finish it. Days like this were common. Minho would get you a new book every week, and the two of you would go to the lake and laze around in the sun. You often worried that Minho would find it boring to sit next to you while you read, having nothing to do. On the contrary, he was quite content with the way things were. He liked how warm the grass felt against his skin, and how calming the sounds of rippling water were as he rested his head against Aeracus’s side.

"Wow. That definitely didn't end on a good note." You shook your head, letting out a sigh and laying back.

Minho glanced up at you, sitting up slightly. "You finished it? So soon?"

"Mhm. I got a little too invested in the story."

"Ah. If I'd known you would read it this fast, I would have borrowed more than one from him."

"It's okay, I can wait a few days.' You say, your tone reassuring as you placed Mr Yang's precious book next to you on the grass, carefully. The man put great care into binding and writing his books, all by hand with no one to assist him. You didn’t want to be the one to soil his hard work.

"Good, cause I'm not going back there so soon. There's three girls who have basically set up camp outside Mr Yang's to catch a glimpse of me."

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. "You act like you're a celebrity or something. We get it, you have a lot of fangirls."

"And fanboys. Some of them are quite cute actually. Just last week a dude proposed to me."

"No way. He proposed?"

"Yeah." He let out a low chuckle. "I think I recognized him from the docks. Seen him once or twice, but I've never said a word to him. I felt bad though, he was actually pretty."

"You should have said yes." You pouted, holding back a giggle. "I've always wanted to be maid of honor at a wedding."

Minho shook his head, sitting up and scooting over. Grabbing your waist, he pulled you into him, so that the both of you were curled up against his sleeping dragon.

"Maid of honor?"

"Yeah! I mean, what's the point of having a best friend if you don't get to play that crucial role in their wedding?"

Minho sighed, looking over at you with a fond smile as he bit his cheek. "Oh Y/n, what am I going to do with you? Maid of honor." He chuckled again at the exaggerated pout you flashed him, poking his side. “What’s so funny?”

There was silence for a few minutes as he looked up at the sky, eyes running over a cloud that looked a little like a five-pointed star. Humming, he leaned in a little.

A short inhale before he whispered into your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it and making your hairs stand on end.

"I hate to break it to you Y/n, but you'll never be maid of honor at my wedding." He mumbled softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Cause you'll be the bride."

For a minute, a stunned look passed over your face as you comprehended his words. It took a whole 60 seconds for you to process, but soon you swatted at his hand, descending into a fit of hopeless giggles at his cheesy line. "Shut up!"

"Hey! I was being serious." he had an offended look on his face as he held your chin, making you face him again.

You looked at his expression and stopped, your cheeks flushing as you realized he meant it. Your heart was racing, your eyes blinking rapidly as your mushy mess of a brain tried to figure out what an appropriate, mature response would be.

Quickly you pushed him off you, stumbling to your feet and beginning to run. So much for being mature.

"Race you home!"

Minho watched you run, shaking his head and sighing to himself as he slowly picked himself up. If only you knew how sincere he was.

If only he knew your heart hadn't stopped pounding for the rest of the night.

Mr Yang's books had been the main contribution to your adolescent fantasies, to be honest. As the local librarian, he supplied you with a regular supply of books, but none were as satisfying as the ones he wrote himself. His writing was descriptive on another level, and pulled you in like no other author could. He was your greatest inspiration, which was why his description of heartbreak had been the one to stick with you the most, all the way to adulthood.

It was described as a lingering emotion in the back of your head, staying with you your whole life to remind you of what could have been. It was nauseating, painful and everlasting. He'd written about the emotion so intensively, that at the time you almost felt like you did truly know how it felt.

You were wrong.

Heartbreak, real heartbreak, was a lot less pain and a lot more emptiness. Yes, it did feel like all those things mentioned before- but there was more to it than that. Your heart, which had been brimming with excitement and happiness not too long ago, felt void. Dark, lifeless. It had been so sudden, so out of the blue that your emotions were a confused jumble.

Of course, there was pain too- agony, more like. Ripping through your entire being as you watched him kiss her cheek yet again. It was so all consuming, so terrifyingly excruciating.

You were across the dinner table by your father's side, the spoon in your hand held in a tight grip as you tried your best to avert your eyes from the sight. After all, you were currently sat at the table with three other chiefs and their families, as well as a few advisors and high ranking guards. You had to look refined and elegant, a person befitting the title of Ember’s heir- not a gawking, bitter girl staring at your once lover canoodling with his fiancée.

Finally managing to tear your eyes away, you let your eyes run over the guests that would be staying with you for the next few weeks. You reminded yourself that you were in no position to be a dejected, woeful and pathetic individual in front of all these important people. Appearances had to be kept up, or you would face dire consequences. Your father’s pride was hurt enough as it is, what with his daughter being the only one who couldn’t participate in the championships. You didn’t want to give him any more reasons to hate you.

Next to your father was the Aqua chief, his wife and their daughter- Minho’s fiancée. They were dressed in blue silks, dripping with sapphires and lapides lazuli. The royal blue draped around them was deep, the fabric clearly expensive and not too unlike the dress you were wearing currently. 

The Aqua heiress was the spitting image of her mother, both their faces round and their features pretty. She was dressed similarly to her parents, with a tiny diadem upon her brown locks, her gown objectively fancier than yours. She continued talking to Minho, the plate of food in front of her untouched.

Minho.

You hated how beautiful he looked, dressed in white and grey. His uniform was simple, all clean lines and crisp edges. It suited him perfectly, like it was made for him. Which it probably was. 

The two of them seemed to be in their own little world as Minho whispered something into her ear, making her giggle yet again. Your throat felt clogged. Blinking, you quickly looked away from them, your eyes landing on Minho’s father. He looked the same as he always did, except now slightly frailer. He was wearing the same uniform as his son, although he didn’t quite fill it out the same way. You chewed on your lip, glancing at him one last time before turning to the Terra family. 

The Terra chief was a rotund, pot-bellied man who had his attention completely focused on his plate, not contributing much to the conversation the three other chiefs were having. You couldn’t blame him, really- the maids had cooked up a delightful feast. You were sure you’d have devoured your entire plate by now if circumstances had been different. The empty feeling in your stomach was making it hard to savour the roast beef, which you reluctantly ate. 

He and his wife were both dressed in earthly, neutral tones combined with deep greens- and positively covered in every kind of jewel found under the Earth. The rubies on your dress looked like chili flakes in comparison to the twinkling emeralds and gems on the Terra family.

Their son, the Terra heir, looked just as miffed as you, to be honest. He wasn’t as bejewelled as his parents, wearing a shade of green that provided you comfort as you looked at him. It reminded you of the grass near the lake you and Minho once frequented.

He caught your gaze suddenly. Smiling, his heart-shaped lips curving upwards. He shot a glance towards Minho and his girl, and then back at you, raising an eyebrow.

You tried your best to smile back, or give him a knowing wink, or something. But all you could do was stare blankly, your emotions having been sucked out of you. You still failed to comprehend what had happened, your brain seemingly giving up on you and leaving you alone with nothing but your broken heart for company.

Soon enough, the smile melted away from the man's face, and he looked back down at his plate, a little dejected. You felt a flash of regret, fleeting however as you suddenly felt a sharp voice whispering in your ear.

You looked up in confusion at your father, who had previously been immersed in a conversation with Minho’s father and the Aqua chief. Now his face was right by your ear.

"Number one, stop staring. You’re lucky I’m the only one who noticed. Number two, stop by my office before you go to sleep tonight, okay? It’s important." He said, voice stern.

Gulping and nodding, you watched as he turned away, diving right back into the conversation he was having. What did he possibly want to talk about? You rarely talked to your father these days, unless arguments could be counted.

You spent the rest of the meal in contemplation, staring down at your plate. Your hand moved methodically, shoving food into your mouth without actually tasting anything; All you could taste was regret.

It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. Despite not looking up, her giggle still pierced your ears from time to time, stabbing you deep in the heart. You'd seen it...the way Minho had been looking at her. He'd once reserved such looks for you and you only. Turns out, every meaningful word he'd said back then were lies. Every promise of forever had been empty.

A small part of you reminded yourself that it wasn't his fault he was kicked out from your village. He’d thought you didn’t oppose your father, and simply watched as he and his father was humiliated. Were you being irrational in expecting him to have stayed single until he came back to you? Hell, was it stupid to think he could even bear to glance at you after what your father had did?

Life was unpredictable, nothing was written in stone. How could he even have known he'd ever be in the same room as you again?

No. Y/n, don't do this. Don't force yourself to make up excuses for him. The man had barely cast a glance at you since he arrived. His eyes had been cold and stony the only time you'd made eye contact. 

Besides, if he really knew you, he would have known you wouldn’t betray him like that. And if he really loved you, he would have waited. He wouldn’t have moved on so easily. 

It was still fresh in your mind, despite having happened a few hours ago, now. The way you’d felt your hopes and dreams shattering to the ground in a million pieces, all in a span of a few seconds. Your heart, vibrating so fast it was almost going to implode.

As you continued drowning in your emotions, reliving the pain you'd felt, you suddenly felt a pair of eyes burning into you, sharply. Confused, you looked up, expecting the Terra heir to be the one looking back at you.

It wasn't him.

Minho quickly looked away before you could react, going back to talking to the heiress. It had only been for a second, but you’d caught him.

He’d been staring. At you. For a second, the tiniest flash of hope lit up your heart. But it was gone quickly, as the Aqua chief started laughing boisterously at a question the Terra chief's wife had asked.

"Yes, Jisu and Minho are deeply in love, Calandra. Honestly. Why would they be getting married otherwise?" He smiled, looking over at the two who had stopped talking to listen.

"This one-" He ruffled his daughter's head, chuckling. "She was so smitten. Kept sneaking out past the border to meet him. Of course when I found out, I was more than happy to let them join hands. I couldn’t imagine a son better than Minho to marry my little girl."

"That's sweet." You glanced up at your father as he said the words. He seemed to be gritting his teeth in slight vexation, the annoyance on his face clear. At least, to you it was.

"The wedding will take place a month after the championships." Minho's father said suddenly, smiling proudly as he grabbed a glass of wine. "You're all invited, of course. It will take place at my village. Now, raise a glass for the happy couple!"

A few claps sounded as everyone at the table raised their glasses. You carefully avoided Jisu's shy smile and Minho's confident smirk, his arm wrapped around her shoulder firmly. As if she would break into a million pieces if he let go.

You hated that you knew exactly how he behaved when he was in love. And now you weren’t on the receiving end of his adoration. 

You weren’t used to this. 

Yes, you’d lived your life as normally as you could without him for the past few years...but this was different. He was right there, and yet he wasn’t yours. So close, but you couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t feel him. Couldn’t kiss his lips and tell him how much he meant to you.

Your eyes darted about as they tried to find an appropriate thing to focus your gaze on. You raised your glass like everyone else, downed the amber liquid a little faster than the rest. You refused to let yourself look at the two.

Your eyes landed on the Terra heir after a few seconds. You weren't completely sure what his name was, but you have a vague recollection of your father telling you everyone’s names. Of course, at the time you’d been too overcome with excitement to digest the information.

Felix? Yes, that was it.

He seemed sweet. Friendly, even. His smile was a little sympathetic as he looked back at you, and that threw you off. You decided to put a smile on your face immediately, trying to conceal the pain that you’d hoped wasn’t evident.

Your mind flitted back and forth as everyone’s plates gradually cleared up. What were you going to do after this? 

Originally, you'd been planning to go to Minho's room tonight. Fuck, you’d dreamed of how tonight would go for months now, ever since your father had told you the news. But how could you now? 

Everything was fucking disintegrating.

***

You walked down the hallway to your father's office, your heels clicking against the stone slabs. Your dress was starting to feel itchy, and you couldn’t wait to take it off. You resentfully recalled how excited you’d felt when your maids had helped you into it. How all you could think about was Minho seeing you in it. You’d never expected him to barely acknowledge you.

Sighing, you passed through the hallway, stopping when you heard a high-pitched giggle come out of nowhere.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glanced around you in confusion. 

Another laugh, this one deeper, followed by what seemed like a...moan?

The pain came back full force, hurtling through you and overtaking you completely. As you walked, the sounds started to feel closer. You wished you could cover your ears to block them out, but at the same time you were consumed with curiosity. Was it what you think it was?

Suddenly, you heard another sound. Now, it was clear where they were coming from.

The sounds were from beyond the door that led to your father's old bedroom, the one he used to share with your mother before she died. You frowned, puzzled as you walked closer to the door.

Had he really given away that room to Minho and his fiancée? It hadn't been used in years, and had always been covered up and inaccessible. Even the maids weren’t allowed to clean in there. It was the biggest bedroom in the house, and the thought of it occupied by them was causing fresh tears to prick at your eyes. 

You felt the lump in your throat make itself more prominent, blinking rapidly as your heart pounded. Suddenly, your legs started moving of their own accord.

Before you knew it, you were stood in front of the large door, your hand raised and knocking firmly on the gilded wood as you swallowed.

There was complete silence for a second or two, but then there were scrambling noises, along with the sound of rustling bedsheets. You tried to calm the beating of your heart, as you waited for the door to open.

When it finally did, you felt like your heart was almost about to burst out of your chest.

She was the one who opened it. She was clearly half naked, having pulled on a blue robe hastily. Running a hand through her hair, she greeted you, her voice a little shaky.

"Oh- um, hello…” She pressed her lips together, glancing behind her for a second. You followed her gaze, to Minho on the bed.

He was shirtless, his hair messed up and his eyes carefully trained on the wall beside him, away from you. You swallowed again, tears threatening to spill past your eyes as you quickly tried to turn your attention back to the woman in front of you.

Too late. She'd noticed. She frowned at you, subtly moving to the side a little to cover Minho from your view.

"I know we haven't formally met yet. I'm Choi Jisu, the Aqua heiress. I’m sure you know." She smiled, albeit a little forced. "And I did want to thank you for letting us stay-"

There was an impatient grunt from behind her, and she looked behind back briefly before turning to you once more.

"Um, I don’t know if you noticed, but I was kind of in the middle of something. Sorry." She tried her best to hide her smile, her voice heavily insincere. “Let’s talk later, Y/n. And maybe next time you won’t be interrupting anything.” She smiled, beginning to close the door.

"Later." 

You just stood there dumbfounded, not knowing how to reply. Your face was passive but your brain was overrun with thoughts. The tears would spill any minute now. 

She frowned at your reaction, tilting her head before gently shutting the door in your face.

You just stood there for a moment. You could hear Minho's voice, muffled as he said something to her.

A part of you wanted to press your ear to the door and listen, but you already looked pathetic enough to the guards standing in the hallway, one of them already having flashed you a sympathetic look. You were really having enough of all this fucking sympathy.

Sighing, you dragged your feet away, trying to push everything down, but to no avail. There were too many enotions, and they were too heavy to even let you think. 

You thought back to her behaviour. You'd definitely picked up on her attitude, which had soured after she’d caught you looking at her fiancé. Jisu wasn’t a fan of you, that much was clear. And neither was the person who’d once declared himself your biggest fan. Ironic, really.

***

“Who was at the door?” Minho asked carefully, although he’d already seen you. Standing there, looking at him. 

You’d looked smaller, vulnerable. So, so different. Almost alarmingly so.

He tried to best to keep his tone even, eyes trained on Jisu as she slunk back to the bed, having shut the door.

“The Ember heiress.” She said, a slight sting to her tone. “Why do you think she came?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I...don’t know.” Minho muttered, staring at the bedsheets. His heart was clenching, hands starting to shake a little. 

No. Not in front of Jisu.

“Weren’t you two ‘best friends’ once?” She asked carefully, having picked up on his icy behavior. Jisu knew, of course. Despite Minho and you trying to keep it a secret, at one point the entire village came to know the two of you were in love. The information had even spread across the village, to others. 

Of course, the chiefs were the only ones who’d been clueless, only finding out after they’d been separated.

Minho scoffed, shaking his head. He gestured to her, hooking his fingers under his boxers to pull them down. “Forget that. Come back here, baby.”

Jisu raised an eyebrow, looking like she wanted to say more. However, Minho’s almost naked body was difficult to resist.

Shrugging, she slid her robe off, letting the silk fall to the floor as she straddled him. His hands ran up her hips, watching her, feeling her. 

His brain, however, felt like it was a million miles away.

***

The tears ran down your face. You were no longer able to hold them back. Realizing you were probably about to break down in the middle of the hallway, you walked faster towards the office- 

Until you bumped into someone on the way, almost knocking them over.

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Felix chuckled, holding onto your arms to keep you on your feet.

You looked up at him, blinking as you registered what you’d just done. “Fuck- I’m so sorry-”

“No, it’s okay.” He smiled, realizing his hands were still on you. He quickly took them away, tucking them into his pockets. His cheeks were dusted a light pink as he cleared his throat, looking at you in concern.

You quickly wiped away your tears, but Felix had unfortunately already noticed.

“Hey, are you okay? I noticed... I noticed you didn’t seem so happy at the dinner.” He said softly, looking down at you. 

You remained silent, staring at the floor as you wondered how to reply. You didn’t want to seem any more pitiable than you already were.

“Uh, it’s okay if you don’t want to say anything. I’m sorry if I overstepped.” He shook his head, stepping back slightly. His voice was almost more nervous than yours. “Um, I’ll leave you be now. Sorry-”

You looked up, sighing. “Wait…” 

Felix looked back, an expectant, almost hopeful look on his face. You didn’t want to let him down, you really didn’t...but it was difficult to pretend like you were okay. You were shivering, biting on your lip. You already felt humiliated enough.

“Sorry. I...I need to go, I’m sorry.” You mumbled, quickly walking away from a bewildered Felix. As soon as you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall as your body shuddered. 

You’d never cried like this, not even when Caeli had died. Not even when Minho had left, because back then you’d still possessed some kind of hope. Hope that just wasn’t there anymore.

Rubbing your cheeks, you managed to get rid of the tear stains. You hoped your eyes weren’t too red- you weren’t ready for any comments from your father today. Breathing in, you continued walking, still massaging your eyes in a desperate bid to get them dry.

You groaned as you noticed you’d reached your father’s office quicker than you thought you would. Inhaling deeply, you tried to pull yourself together. You really didn’t like showing weakness in front of him, but lately that was all you did.

You knocked on the door carefully, waiting for him to open the door.

“Door’s open, come in.”

You pushed open the heavy oak door, stepping in.

"Y/n. Finally. Where have you been?"

"Nowhere important." You said quickly, clearing your throat. "Um... you said you wanted to see me, dad?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes." He rearranged the files on his desk quickly, standing and coming over to lean on the front of his desk. He sighed, screwing his face up in thought as he wondered where to start.

"I can’t believe Lee really scored a marriage for his son. Do you know what this means? A heir marrying an heiress? They'll possess power we can’t even begin to imagine." He paced back and forth, clenching his fists in barely concealed anger. You rolled your eyes slightly. Of course your father thought it was a ploy to gain power. He’d never believed in love, and most probably never will.

“So?” 

"So? So?!” He shook his head. “See, this is exactly why the villagers think you’re too incompetent.” He glared, making you cower. Your heart pounded quicker, your lips pressing together. No more tears, you had to control them.

“Look, Y/n...I’ll put it plain and simple. Ember has been the most powerful for centuries. We’ve always had the strongest dragons, and the sturdiest men. Our village is the largest in the country, and all eyes are on us.”

He pinched his forehead. “Do you know how embarrassing it is that Ember’s heiress, the one who should be the most powerful of all, is nothing but a lovesick, pathetic little girl who doesn’t even have a fucking dragon to compete with?!”

You blinked, sniffing as you stared at the floor. You could always count on your father to reinforce negative emotions. His eyes burning into you, chest heaving in anger. 

He sighed, watching as your shoulders shook slightly. Softening a little, he inhaled. It always went that way. He’d blow up at you, and subsequently regret it. He couldn’t take back anything he said, though.

“Sorry, child.” You remained silent, looking up a little. His face seemed sincere enough.

“Hm. I have an idea..." He mumbled, placing a finger on his chin. You could almost see the cogs and gears turning in his brain.

"What did you think of Felix? Nice boy, isn't he?"

You frowned at your father's words, his expression seeming innocent...but his intentions clearly weren't.

"The Terra heir?" You asked, sighing. "He seems nice. Why are you asking?"

"No reason." He shrugged, fiddling with the Ember figurine on his desk.

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. "Dad...don't tell me you want to marry me off to him."

"What?? No!" Your father shook his head vehemently, still playing with the figurine and avoiding your eyes. "I was just thinking. Uh-"

He looked back at you and sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. But...just consider it, okay? An arranged marriage...an alliance between Ember and Terra could be phenomenal."

You pursed your lips, flashes of Minho and Jisu running through your head as you thought it over. Fuck it, why not? It wasn’t like you had any reason to oppose him. "Fine, dad. I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising anything. Besides, I don’t even know if he’s interested in me."

"I saw the way he was looking at you from across the table, child. He definitely has some curiosity, at the very least.” He hummed. “Anyway, that's actually not why I called you here."

You raised an eyebrow, confused as he went back to his seat, sitting down and pulling up a large, dusty book.

"Look...I'm worried. There's something ominous about this. Their marriage...it poses too many conveniences and benefits for both the chiefs to be a mere coincidence.”

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

He looked to be deep in thought. When he heard you speak, he snapped back to attention, shaking his head. "I’m not sure yet. Now, even if I managed to convince Farran to get his child married to you, it still doesn’t provide us power directly. Without a dragon, it’s likely they’ll make you reside in the Terra village once this is all over.” He hummed, looking like he was talking to himself rather than addressing you. “No...we need a reason to make you stay here. You’re an Ember heiress, the future chief of this legendary village. However, you definitely need to look the part. You need to prove to everyone that you’re powerful, Y/n. Shatter their expectations...and mine.” He smiled, gesturing for you to come closer.

 “I was wondering...do you want to participate in the championships?"

Your eyes widened impossibly, your words stuttering as you moved forward. You couldn’t believe your ears, not one bit. It sounded too good to be true.

“Wait- really?”

“Yes.”

“But...but I don’t have a drag-”

“You can participate with Aeracus.”

No. No way. For the first time since the welcoming, you felt true happiness overtake you. Jumping, you squealed in delight, barely able to hide your glee. “Oh my god, thank you, dad! Thank you so so much.”

He chuckled as he watched you, flipping a page. “This has never been done before, so expect some backlash. I’m sure once they see the bond you have with Aeracus though, they’ll change their minds.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your father, the most skeptical dragon purist the world had ever seen, was acknowledging your bond.

“But...what about Minho?”

“Aeracus is no longer his dragon, Y/n. He has a new one.” Of course, you’d noticed. The huge black dragons he and his father had been riding. You felt a sensation of unease drift through you as you thought about the creatures, the likes of which you’d never seen before. 

New lover, new dragon. He’d really left this place behind.

“Something’s off about those dragons.” He voiced the exact same concern you had. “They’re up to something. I just don’t know what.” He turned back to his book, taking his quill back up. “I’ll find out, though. Somehow. Now, go to sleep, kid. You have a big day tomorrow, now that you’re actually participating.”

You nodded, excitement coursing through your veins. “Sure, dad. Have a good night.” You bowed and turned around, your steps a lot lighter as you headed to your room, which was close by.

Reaching your room, you pushed open the door, smiling as you noticed Sylvia fast asleep at your dressing table. Moving slightly closer, you gently nudged her awake.

“Wha- I-” She shot up, mouth open as she bowed to you. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I was just arranging and-I’ll help you out of your dress, now-”

“Sh, it’s okay. Tonight’s been tiring. You deserve the rest.” You said sadly, patting her shoulder as a yawn left your mouth. “Go to sleep, and don’t come by tomorrow. I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself. I want you to relax, okay? Head to the docks, or buy yourself some bread in the square.” You opened a tiny drawer and handed a few coins to her, enough to get some sweetbread from the bakery.

She nodded thankfully. “You’re the best, ma’am.” She giggled, accepting the coins from you. 

“What have I told you about calling me ma’am? We’re the same age, Sylvia, it makes me uncomfortable. It’s Y/n to you.”

“Fine. Y/n.” She smiles, heading to the door. “Good night, Y/n.”

You grinned widely at that. You loved how easygoing she was, unlike Ann, your head maid. You weren’t royalty, and hated being treated as such. A friend was all you needed, to be honest. And Sylvia managed to fill the best friend sized hole Minho had left behind, somewhat. 

She closed the door behind her, and you sighed, flopping down onto your soft bed and beginning to slip off your heels and the heavy dress, carefully placing it on a rack. The moon shone extra bright today, and you noticed the streets outside were still lit up with lanterns. Soon, they’d be turned off, and the streets would be quiet once more, except for a few drunken stragglers that didn’t want to stop celebrating.

And you would be left alone with your thoughts.

You slid yourself underneath your covers, sighing as you stared at the moon. In the distance, you could see a few dragons and their riders, flying through the air. They were quite far away, possibly near the outskirts. 

Tomorrow, you’d be able to ride Aeracus like that, after so many years. Every time Minho had let you climb atop his dragon, it had just felt like it was meant to be. Deep down, you felt bad, though...for Caeli, for Minho. However, it was just the plain truth.

You smiled as you decided to buy Aeracus a bunch of treats tomorrow. Ostrich eggs, phoenix meat- you were planning to go all out. He deserved it, after all.

In a way, tonight had possibly been the worst night of your life, and simultaneously the best. Your heart felt pulled in two, as you closed your eyes and willed yourself to sleep.

You had a big day tomorrow.

[bangtanreadingcorner]

despite it all • park jimin

chapter 2 — soft spot

plot – when you finally go to the bar on 17th street, it's not for help.

words – 3.1K

chapter 1

For a long time you thought you would never take Jimin up on his offer to go to the bar on 17th Street.

Then the day came that you did.

***

Things go back to normal for a few weeks after the night you helped Jimin. You go to work and for the most part it's easy to put that night out of your mind. Then there's the hours when you can't sleep or you don't have a shift, and it all comes rushing back. You visit your dad's grave and you tell him about Jimin, asking if he'd be mad at you for helping him. You don't talk to your mother, she never could forgive you for becoming a first responder.

Three weeks after that night, you get called to the scene of a gunshot victim in an alley. You and your partner Jeongguk immediately start to help him. Or you try to, at least. He's so young, no older than eighteen or nineteen.

"Come on, kid, hold on!" You mutter under your breath as you try to stop the bleeding. You look at Jeongguk, who looked at the victim with wide eyes, face pale. "Hey! Snap out of it! We need to get fluids in him, start a saline and blood line."

You work on him for almost fourty minutes before he's gone. Your gloved hands and shirt are drenched in blood. You sit back on your heels, a sense of defeat coming over you. You take a second to pull yourself together before you reach over to close his eyes, sending Jeongguk to get a blanket to cover him with, and that's when you see it.

The outline of a tattoo on the left side of his neck. Your blood runs cold and you hope that you're wrong. You reach out with shaky fingers, turning his head just a little, to get a full view of the tattoo. You suck in a deep breath when you see it.

A serpent.

You were right. This kid is in the same gang that Jimin is in.

"Funny, isn't it?" A voice asks above you.

You look up, and the badge around his neck tells you he's a cop. You frown slightly at him, "Who are you?"

"Detective Choi, Gang Unit."

"Well, Detective, I don't see anything funny about this situation." You are tempted to glare at the man.

"They spend their days breaking the law, hurting people and then expect to be helped when they get shot as a result of their own actions." He said, sneering down at the body.

"They're still people." You say, heart twisting at the man's careless words.

"Barely." The detective scoffed, looking down at the body with interest, pointing down at it. "But this one. He was important."

You don't understand what a kid has to do with all of this as you frown crossly up at the detective. "He's just a kid."

"Yeah, but he's a Park." The detective says, a glint of excitement in his eyes. It makes anger stir inside of you. "Park Jihyun, in fact. Second in line to the most dangerous gang in the province."

"So, what? Because of that he doesn't deserve to live?" You scoff in disbelief as Jeongguk returns and start to cover the body. Before the press could arrive and take pictures and videos for the six o'clock news.

The detective shrugs, "I'm just saying, no one will cry over his death."

"You just said he has a family. I'm sure they will." You remind him.

The Detective shakes his head, "No, they're not gonna cry. They're gonna go to war."

"And what? You're going to use the war to catch his brother? While he's grieving? Seems a little cold." You say as you push to your feet. You could see Jeongguk frowning as he looked back and forth between you and the detective.

"I figured I'd give them a taste of their own medicine."

"Are you going to tell that to his brother when you notify him?" You retort, mentally yelling every kind of curse you could possible think of at him.

"I'm not going to tell him."

Your mouth drops open in shocked disbelief, appalled by the detective. "What? You have too. You're bound by law."

"They don't follow the law. Why should I extend them that courtesy?" He shrugs.

"Because his family will be worried sick! And you're a cop!" You exclaim, voice rising a little.

"I'm counting on it." The detective grins before walking away.

You clench your hands into fists, an overwhelming urge to hit the detective coming over you. You look at Jeongguk, who still seemed out of it. You frown at him, he's never reacted like this to seeing someone being shot before. "Hey, are you okay, Jeongguk?"

"Yeah," He nods quickly, a little too quick, but you don't say anything. "Just, his family . . .

they deserve to know."

"They do." You agree immediately. "And I'm going to make sure they find out."

Jeongguk's head whips to you, curious and kind of relieved. "How?"

"I know this guy, he's in the same gang as the kid is, or was."

For a second, Jeongguk looks amused. "You know a guy in a gang."

"Shut up." You feel you're cheeks burn, suddenly feeling shy. "And yes, I do. His name is Jimin and I helped him out once. He told me that if I ever need something to go to the bar on 17th Street. I may not need something, but I figure he would probably be able to tell Jihyun's family."

You turn to Jeongguk, who went quiet by your side. His eyes was open wide again, but this time there was a sliver of fear in them. "A guy named Jimin, who is in the same gang as the kid with a bar on 17th Street?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing." Jeongguk all but squeaks, shaking his head furiously, eyes still wide.

You side eye him, "You're judging me for doing this, aren't you? Meh. Whatever. They deserve to know. I'm telling them."

***

After your shift, you immediately go to the bar on 17th Street. It was a nice, casual kind of place. On another day, you could see yourself having a drink there. You look around and you don't see Jimin, so you head to the bar to ask for him.

The bartender is tall and buff. And gives off a scary vibe with his tattoos and the emotionless expression on his face. You notice the same serpent tattoo Jimin has on his neck, on the bartender's forearm. This guy is probably your best bet on finding Jimin.

"Uh, hi, I'm looking for Jimin." You blurt at the bartender, who is busy wiping down the counter. You feel a flush rising on your cheeks. That sounded so demanding.

"Who's asking?" The bartender asks without look

"Y/N."

That gets the bartender's attention. He stops wiping the counter and looks at your with sparkling eyes, a boxy smile breaking the blank look on his face, making him look more like a puppy as he shakes his curls out of his eyes, "So, you're Y/N."

You're caught off guard by the fact that he seems to know you. It makes you a little defensive, "What does that mean?"

"It's means you're the girl, or woman, who saved Jimin." He says, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

Your cheeks heat up even more, "I didn't save him, just helped him out."

"The cops and the gang who he went after by himself, like the dumbass he is, was after him. If he was alone that night, he would have been killed. Or worse." The bartender tells you, restarting his task of wiping the counter, but there's only one thing that registers in your mind.

"I helped a fugitive?" You yelp, feeling your heart stutter in shock.

The bartender frowned at you, "I thought Jimin said you know who he is."

"I know he's in a gang."

The bartender stops in wiping the counter, looking at you with scarily serious eyes. "Y/N, Jimin isn't in the gang, he leads the gang."

Your mouth drops open and it feels dry. "I helped a gang leader, who is also a fugitive?"

"Aren't you one for the history books." Taehyung notes with a boxy grin.

"Not exactly something I'd like to be remembered for." You tell him, legs feeling weak all of a sudden.

"Eh, apples, oranges." The bartender shrugged, putting down his cloth. "I love strawberries, by the way. Anyway, my name is Taehyung. I'm Jimin's best friend and second in command, in case you were wondering. You said you're looking Jimin right? Well, he's busy right now, but he did say to call him right away if you ever come, so, I'll go get him for you."

And with that, the bartender - Taehyung - disappeared. You looked after him in bewilderment, "What the fuck?"

Less than five minutes later, Jimin walked out from the door where Taehyung disappeared into. He looked different from the last time you saw him. He was wearing black skinny jeans with a black polo neck sweater and a black leather jacket. He looked more dangerous than when he was covered in blood. More attractive, too. You very carefully cut that train of thought off before it could grow roots. You watched as everyone in the bar eyed Jimin, but also gave him a wide berth.

When he stopped infront of you, his features softened ever so slightly. You frowned down at his clenched, bloodied fists, "Have you been punching people again?"

"Punching people is in my job description." Jimin answered, jaw visibly tensed. He looked at you, and you could tell right then that something is very wrong. "You are always welcome here, Y/N, but right now I'm a little busy. One of my men has been taken and I am trying to find him."

You face falls and suddenly a lot of things make sense. "I think . . . I think I might know where he is."

Confusion falls over Jimin's face, "You? How could you know?"

"I had a call today. Gunshot victim in an alley. He had that tattoo-" You point to Jimin's neck, where his serpent tattoo is. "And I wanted to come and tell you. I mean, I didn't know if you know everyone in your gang, I didn't every know that it is your gang, until Taehyung told me just now, but I just wanted to tell you in case you knew him."

Jimin looks at you with wide eyes, a spark of light returning to those cold eyes. "What did he look like?"

"Uh, he was young. I didn't really notice much else, sorry. I was trying to save his life." You tell Jimin, and then something occurs to you. "Wait, one of the detectives on the scene told me his name. I don't know how they know but-"

"His name." Jimin interrupted, a little sharp, but there was an urgency to his voice.

"Uh. Jihyun. Park Jihyun." You tell him, watching as Jimin both deflate and light up in the span of five seconds. You almost get whiplash with how quick his mood changes.

"What hospital did you take him too?" Jimin asks eagerly, hopefully.

You heart twists, knowing that you're the one who has to break that hope. You soften your voice, making it as gentle as possible. "Jimin, we didn't. We tried our best, but we couldn't save him. By the time we got there, he had already lost too much blood. I am so sorry."

Jimin's expression shutters and it makes you feel like someone punched you in the gut. He takes a breath before saying, "Thank you for coming to tell me. And thank you for trying to save him."

Jimin walks away and you want to stop him, to comfort him somehow, but you don't because it's not your place.

You turn to Taehyung, who looks so incredibly sad it broke your heart a little. You know you should leave but you can't just put leave without at least trying to help. "Are you okay, Taehyung?"

"No," He shakes his head, fiddling with the cloth he used to wipe the bar down earlier. "But I will be."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah, actually." He says, surprising you pleasantly. You thought he would refuse your offer. Your heavy heart lifts a little, happy to help, and you nod at Taehyung, indicating to him to tell you what he wants you to do. He looks at you for a long while and it makes you fidget a little. He's not going to ask you to hurt someone, right? You sincerely hoped not. Finally he spoke and you could have never guessed what came out his mouth next. "Jimin is going to come to you. I don't know when, but he will. I don't know what exactly happened between you and him the night you saved him, but it changed something in him. He's been different since that night and it's because of you. So, he'll come to you and seek comfort and when he does, I only ask one thing."

You swallow thickly, having no idea what to do with everything Taehyung just dumped on you. "And what is that?"

"Please be gentle with him. People think he's dangerous and fearsome, and he is. For the most part he really is, but that's not all he is. Underneath that, he has the biggest heart. A heart he usually keeps hidden and locked far away, but somehow, you made it past all of his defences in a night. And right now, his heart is hurting badly."

You give Taehyung a strange look, thinking that he must be reading something wrong somewhere because you and Jimin didn't spend that much time together. Maybe two hours. How could that have been enough time to get past his defences, as Taehyung said? "Uh, I think you might be exaggerating the situation but okay. If it will make you feel better. I promise to be gentle with him. Whatever that means."

Taehyung was visibly relieved by your sincere promise. "Thank you."

"It's nothing." You waved him off. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No." Taehyung smiles, small and much dimmer than the bright boxy grin he gave you earlier, but just as true. "But I think I'm starting to see it."

"See what?" You look curiously at him.

"Why Jimin has a soft spot for you." He answers nonchalantly.

You very almost choke on thin air. "I helped him out once and told me he'd return the favour. That does not mean he has a soft spot for me."

"Yes, he does. Have you not been listening to a word I've said?" Taehyung all but demanded, placing his hands on his hips.

"I'm listening," You give him a slight smile. "Still working on believing."

"Well, believe it." Taehyung huffs. "Earlier, when you came in and asked for Jimin and I went to get him? He was busy, uh . . ." Taehyung trails off, unsure how much Jimin wants her to know. He knows better than to outright lie though. He settles on a word that is both discreet and understandable. "He was interrogating a guy for answers about Jihyun's whereabouts. You are the only person on this planet I was allowed to interrupt that interrogation for."

"He did say to come anytime I want." You defend, feeling heat creeping up your cheeks again.

Taehyung looks like your words just proves his point. "Exactly."

You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that you won't be able to change his mind. You glance in the direction where Jimin went and your mood deflates, "You think he's going to be okay?"

"I don't know." Taehyung admits honestly, eyes lingering on the door.

"I have this foreboding feeling that this is the calm before the storm." You say, nodding in the direction where Jimin went. "He was too quiet when I told him the news, but I could see the grief in his eyes. Was he close to the guy who was killed?"

"Very." Taehyung nods. "Jihyun is, or was, Jimin's brother."

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your feet as the last pieces of the puzzle fit together. You should have realised, the detective told you Jihyun's brother is the leader of the gang and Taehyung told you Jimin leads the gang. "Oh my God."

"Yeah." Taehyung nods, biting his lip.

"I can't imagine how Jimin must feel right now." You say, wanting nothing but to barge through those doors and go hug Jimin.

"I think it helps that it came from you, instead of the police. Those smug bastards would have just rubbed his nose in it." Taehyung says with a distasteful look on his face.

"Why would they do that?" You ask, deciding not to tell Taehyung that the police wasn't even planning on telling Jimin at all.

"Because we're in a gang. Although, they can't proof anything against us. Especially against Jimin. They don't know much, but they know he's our leader. He took over from his dad when he retired, when Jimin was twenty-one. Which really pisses them off." Taehyung looked a little smug over that fact.

"I get that. I mean, my dad was a cop, before he died in the crossfire of a gang war. I was seventeen at the time, so I can still remember how he would get angry or frustrated when he couldn't solve a case or find evidence to prove his case."

"Sorry about your dad." Taehyung says, looking like he actually means it.

It makes you smile a little, "It's okay. I mean, it still hurts like hell sometimes, but they found the guy who pulled the trigger and he's spending the rest of his life in jail."

"Want me to take him out for you?" Taehyung offers. "We got a couple of guys in prison and I'm sure Jimin wouldn't mind."

"No, absolutely not!" You exclaim with wide eyes, heartbeat kicking up its pace as panic shoots through you for a second. "Jesus Christ, first Jimin and now you. What is wrong with you two?"

Taehyung's eyes get a wicked gleam and you somehow know what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. "We're-"

"In a gang, yeah, I know. That isn't an excuse." You sigh, running a hand over your face. A heaviness settles around your heart. "This is going to get ugly, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Taehyung shrugs. "But probably."

"Great." You mutter. Better stock up the ambulance then.

***

chapter 3

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it!

[alatismeni-theitsa]

Do you have any sort of, words of encouragement, for a Greek-American who is struggling to learn Greek? My family is pretty connected to our heritage but I was never taught to speak Greek. I am an adult now, and I know I'm at an incredible disadvantage trying to learn a new language. The most discouraging thing is when I try to pronounce a word with a sound that isn't really in English (like γ) and I KNOW I am not saying it right, but no matter how hard I try I can't pronounce it correctly.

Hello! I'm very sorry for delaying this answer for some days, but as we see here, Zeus was fucked this week 😅

I will pin my answer so you can see it when you return, and the rest will be under the cut.

I believe there are MANY reasons for hope in this situation. Of course it feels very discouraging that you don't know the language already and you might feel left behind in this process. Plus, learning a new language is not an easy thing to learn. But worry not!

You are grown, and that means you can learn a language better and with more consistency and discipline. Have trust in your skills as an adult. What is more, you have grown up around Greek speakers and you will pick up certain things faster.

You are not alone in feeling this way. Most of the world has to learn a second language (and a third, as it's usual for many) and that would be the language most dominant in the wider area. Almost every person in the West who is not an English speaker has to learn English and learn it well, otherwise we feel embarrassed every time we try and form a sentence. For example, we apologize to each other about our accents in English German and French, even though we speak Greek.

Surely there are some differences between your situation and ours, but I mentioned this to show you that most people will be very understanding with accents because they have the same struggle. I mean, I'm not going to make fun of someone for having an accent in Greek when I sound like a demented chicken in German, despite taking years of lessons 😵 I have more confidence in my English but even now that I'm writing to you in this language I have to quadruple-check my sentences and phrasing. The amount of times I apologized in advance for my accent to English speakers is higher than my credit.

I relayed your situation to other Greek speakers and non-English speakers, and ALL agreed the accent is not anything they would pay attention to and told me to write you that you shouldn't feel bad about that. I did that because I knew they would have words of encouragement for you. And it turns out they believe exactly what I'm writing in this answer.

Accents are natural. You cannot expect not to have an accent when you have been speaking a different language all your life. Beating yourself up for having difficulty with the Greek pronunciation is like beating yourself up for something normal like walking or laughing when hearing something funny. You lack practice with the pronunciation due to circumstances beyond your control. You are doing what you can to change that, and every small win is worth celebrating!

I found this post the other day:

The notes? The likes?

And NO disagreements in the comments and reblogs for OP’s statement! Look how many thousands are supportive in this! (And that’s a small fraction of people who understand accents are natural.) And some of the responses:

Sure, some mention they have met native speakers who made it more difficult to feel comfortable with their accent and phrasing. But those people are assholes in general, and not the people you want to surround yourself with. If a relative expresses disgust about your accent remind them you didn’t have any control of how much and how well you were taught Greek when you were a kid, and then tell them that if they are a true friend and relative to you, they should support you in your journey. And even if you had some control and chose not to learn, you are learning now. So they should leave their resentment behind because, honestly, what do they have to lose from you learning the language better??

For the embarrassment you feel for yourself: you wouldn't make fun of a Greek for having trouble with the “r”, "s", “ch”, and possibly the "h" when speaking English, so extend that kindness to yourself when you speak Greek. Not to mention that with enough practice and time you can nail the accent!

Worst case scenario, if the accent never leaves, that's no problem whatsoever. Anyone who thinks badly of you for your accent is probably a PoS and they don't deserve your time. No matter where you are from, if they make you feel bad for having an accent in Greek, block them from your mind forever.

But chances are that (from experience) if anyone laughs with how you said something, I guarantee they are not laughing at you but because of how strange the sound or phrasing was. The person doesn't think badly of you because of this. Making mistakes of any kind when learning a language is very natural and it's something everyone must accept. If you are not willing to make mistakes and expose your language vulnerabilities to people who know the language better, might as well not try improving at all.

If anyone corrects you, they are not doing it out of pity. The majority of Greeks do it because they are very happy you speak the language and want you to be even more fluent. Like, they are doing it as an act of backing you up, they are feeling like they are giving you that extra XP to reach the next level! Others - like me - get that rush of happiness when they get to share their language with others 😁

I remember a guy on Tiktok who was learning Greek and ordered a coffee "without sugar" in a Greek cafe but instead of saying σκέτο ("without") he said σκατά ("shit"). I mean damn that was funny! I remember it weeks after I saw the video of him telling that story and it always cracks me up. Do I still appreciate him the same as before and follow him? Absolutely! He just had an unfortunate - and funny - incident, not something that lessened his integrity as a person.

From tiktok again: An American girl wanted to pronounce γύρος correctly when ordering it, and she was mumbling to herself on camera: “yeero, yeero, yeero!!” When her time to order came she shouted “May I have a gairow? FUUUUCKK FUUCK FUCK I SAID IT WRONG” 🤣

Another example is Athena from the Bachelor 2! She has given some gems throughout the show because she doesn't know the language that well, but everyone still loves her because she spreads positivity and is so cute!! If we, as viewers, disliked her it would be because of her character, not because she doesn't know the language well. And if some of the other girls in the show don’t take her seriously is because she laughs too much and mentions feta too often, not due to her Greek level of literacy. Athena, even when she is hurting someone else’s feelings, is always so genuine and you just can’t be mad at her!

I really can’t stretch enough how people laugh at the mishap, not the person! Please don’t feel discouraged if you ever see a Greek laughing with the pronunciation of an English speaker when it comes to Greek words (which I have done as well) because we never laugh at the speakers. We don’t even know them! We might laugh at one mistake but then instantly want to become this individual’s friends because we think they are amazing (see the three examples I mentioned above, the sugar guy, the gyro girl and Athena). Because that’s the normal thing to do; laugh at fun stuff and not judge people for their small mishaps. (In a casual setting, and not to an uncomfortable degree ofc!)

There are so many things to a person other than their accent and the accent becomes old news really fast. What remains is how the presence of a person makes you feel and if they are a good individual. If an English speaking friend says yatakai instead of γατάκι that opens the way for sooo many jokes! Greeks will laugh, do some YATAKAAIIII screams - ninja style, and then continue being friends with that person!

Greeks makes these mistakes as well... A Greek once said "arrive arrive" (φτάνει φτάνει) instead of "enough" when an English speaker was filling his glass. A Lower English degree caught fire that day 🤣 I have many bad examples of Greeks’ mistakes in English but I can’t remember a lot. But I’ve seen many videos of Greeks mocking themselves for how they sound in English. You can take a look at Tsipras’ (our former prime minister) mistakes on youtube if you are feeling brave 😂 (Ο Τσίπρας μιλάει Αγγλικά)

So, own your possible mistakes, laugh at them and move on because everyone makes them and we better have some good while we are struggling!

(( For the record, we are not making fun of Tsipras because of his accent, but because 1) he doesn’t know γρι English and yet he rarely brought a translator with him in international meetings with world leaders, 2) he could absolutely not hold a conversation with negotiating or discussing 3) he didn’t take steps to improve or fix the situation (like bring a translator). 4) Instead, he chose to torment us all with mind-numbing hours of reading English texts and making other world leaders struggle to explain to him what they meant for the nth time and meetings move at a snail pace.))

Alright, now that I cringed with the memory of Tsipras speaking English, I’ll go though the recommendations for improving the Greek pronunciation.

1) Go to my resources for learning Greek (#learn greek) where I have many videos where you can hear the sounds individually or withing other words very clearly. Easy Greek on youtube has excellent videos about pronunciation!

2) Seek practice as much as possible. Some Greeks switch to English when they hear an English accent to make the conversation smoother for the other person. If Greek speakers insist on talking with you in English tell them that you would wish to speak in Greek. I've seen that people often mirror the accent of the native speaker when they speak to one, so this might work for you as well with hours of practice. If no Greek speakers are available to you now, you can find Greek Americans online – or go to their festivals – and start talking to them.

3) Listen to Greek podcasts, songs and shows. (In my blog you’ll find them at #greek youtuber #podcast #greek tv #greek movie #short film #greek music). You know when you hear a catchy foreign song and then it’s stuck in your head and you say all the words perfectly without even knowing what it means? Well, this helps with pronunciation!

4) If you had Spanish in school or have Spanish friends mimicking the Spanish accent might help you. (Our accents are extremely close! The Spanish are the best at Greek pronunciation, and vice versa!)

5) Find sounds in your native language that sound close to the sounds you want to say in Greek. In German lessons I had trouble with “ch” in certain words because I made it sound like χ and it was horrible. My Greek teacher told me to remember how χ sounds in χήνα (it sounds a bit flatter) and make that sound when I encountered “ch”. It worked actually!

To people who have English as their native language I often suggest they remember the sound of w for γ because, although not used the same in the word, at times they have the same intensity. Γ is pronounced more “to the front” of the mouth, so if you can bring that sound forward in your mouth you’ll be very close, if not accurate, to γ. (But don’t bring it too much forward, sometimes it can sound like a “y”, unless you are saying a word where γ sounds like “y”).

Greeks pronounce σ more closely to “sh” than to “s”, so you also might want to keep that in mind since σ often distinguishes the Greek accent in English for me :p

That’s all! If you have more questions or want to tell me anything else about your experience with learning Greek, feel free to send another ask or a DM!

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO, friends and followers! It's once again that time, time for...

SKETCHY SATURDAY!

This week, we're bringing back one of my favorite types of prompt-- the Quote prompt!

This one is pretty simple, but I still gotta lay down the rules. Follow me past the read-more if you're wanting to participate this week!

This week is all about the dialog-- requesters may select a character and a quote to send in, after which I'll do the rest. If you're an old hand at this event, this is exactly the same as previous quotation prompts, just with an updated quote list.... buuuuut you can still validate my time spent writing the guidelines every week by reading them anyway XD

For the rest of ye, ONWARDS!

To send a VALID request for this week's Sketchy Saturday, send an ASK to my ASKBOX containing the following:

The CHARACTER you'd like sketched ---- Canon? Yep! OC? Hell yes! Everybody's welcome so long as they're from the Fallout Universe! ---- One character per ask ---- Sending an OC? Send your request ask FIRST, and THEN send reference info to my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have a reference image? Text description is fine! Going from text lets me flex my character design muscles!

The NUMBER of your selected quote ---- Numbers help me find things faster, but you can transcribe the quote, too, if you wanna. ---- Got more than one favorite? List up to three, in order of preference. If someone else has used your first choice, I'll move on to your second [or third]. ---- Still can't choose? Send me 'Dealer's Choice!' and I'll pick one... or maybe make up something new on the spot ;3

As always, I'd like to remind everyone that the artist is a singular human, managing this event to try and give people some joy during a time when there seems to be a dwindling supply. Please remember to be polite, say please and thanks, reblog the art after it's finished, make 'oooo' noises in the tags, all that good shit.

Kay? M'kay.

And with that all outta the way... THE QUOTES!

CW for a lot of colorful language, implied violence, and general vulgarity XD

“Excellence knows no age.”

"Whoa, whoa, calm down-- my metaphorical dick can only get so hard."

"Like... a broken clock is right twice a day, but I feel like I'm insulting the clock with that comparison."

"You know, people in this town have a habit of getting in over their heads... like at the bottom of the ocean."

"What the fuck is that look for?"

"Shhhhh.... the adults are talking."

"I did NOT just spend six days in a hole to NOT get drunk at the first opportunity."

"And whether you believe that... or you're correct, it makes a nice hot take."

“Goddamnit, we fought a revolution so we wouldn’t have to pay any attention to the FUCKING British!

“We plan ahead; that way, we don’t do anything right now."

"If you don't stop smirking at me like that, I'm gonna have to kiss you."

"Shenanigans! I'm calling Shenanigans!!"

"Fuck you guys, I'm going home."

"That would imply some kind of agency-- I assure you, I did not CHOOSE this in any capacity."

"On a scale of one to ten, I think I'm hanging out somewhere in the concept of infinity."

"Got the short end of the stick, so I started beating people with it."

"That was so low on the list of things I expected to happen, it was in another state."

"BALLS TO THE WALL, BOYS!"

“You put a whole new shine on the word overkill.”

"Above my paygrade."

"I'm surrounded by assholes..."

"Besides-- in my professional opinion, the change is an improvement."

"A lifetime of preparation... and I end up a REFUGEE?"

".... are you not wearing pants right now?"

“I want a man with a tattoo on his dick! Have I got the right man?”

“I’m short for my height.”

"This isn't a joke, you shit-sucking asshole!"

"Count to... ten."

"Well that's just recockulous."

“So where the hell is the goddamn golden oldie coming from?”

"I always take my own advice under advisement-- you, on the other hand, should pay a little more goddamn attention."

"Listen, babe-- we've been attacked, chased, shot at, poisoned, and blown up! HOW could it get any WORSE?!"

“It will get colder and colder until we all have to go to hell just to warm up.”

“Broke into the wrong goddamn rec-room, didn’t you, you bastard?!”

“When you need it, and don’t have it, you sing a different tune.”

“I only speak two languages; English and Bad English!”

"[sigh]... 'Yer face' is NOT a numerical value."

“Nothing is impossible, only mathematically improbable.”

“I mean, [insert your faction of choice] offers to give you anything you want and you ask for just two cases of dynamite?”

“People keep giving me rings, but I really think a small death ray would be more practical.”

“Or, or, and this is the really important part, we might not die.”

"Tch, amateurs."

"Violence isn't the answer, it's the question-- and the answer is yes."

As always, this will be going online just as I'm crashing for the night, but the askbox is open and ready to collect requests right now! So get yours in, and I'll see ya in the morning when I start arting things up! :D

-Loor

[acciocriativity]

Tetrachromat ||Harry Potter

Pairing: Cedrico Diggory x Reader // Hermione Granger x Reader

Summary: In a world where you can see 100 million different shades, every day means a new discovery. But among so many, you find something completely different in someone

Word Count: 2,6k

N / A:  tetrachromatism or tetracromacia comes from the mixture of two words of Greekorigin,"tetra" means "four" and "Chroma" which means "color". A tetrachromat person has 4 cell cones, instead of 3 which is more common, and this makes him sensitive to a wider color spectrum. 

Part II

 I had just come home after a tiring day at work, when I came across a scene that I hadn't seen in a long time. There was a brown owl on the steps of my house, I looked around and then walked over to it, took the letter that was tied to one of its legs, and a few seconds later I saw it flying across the London sky back to Hermione, after all there is no one but her that I know in the Wizarding World. As she was waiting for me there for a long time, I'm sure my parents haven't arrived yet, as they would have let her in. 

I left my bag on the sofa and sat down to read it immediately, I hadn't heard from her in over a year and sometimes I feared the worst had happened. The last thing I received was a warning, she had told me that she couldn't get in touch because she had an important mission to do and that when it was over, we could talk again. 

“Dear friend, 

It has been a week since the war ended, the Wizarding World is turned upside down but we are at peace and rebuilding ourselves now. I'm sending this letter to let you know that I'm going to visit my parents' house in a few days and I would like to see you too. After lunch next Saturday it seems like a good time. 

I have more things to tell you than I can put into words, I would also like to ask you a favor, but we can resolve this later. 

 With love, Hermione. ”

This visit was only the first of many. We talked as far as she could tell me, some issues were still sensitive and very recent and I obviously respected that, but even without many details, knowing the things that happened was difficult to process and she also respected that. 

We started seeing each other more than once a week, my parents managed to help locate Hermione's parents very easily, since our families have been neighbors and close friends for a long time. That was the favor she asked for and I immediately agreed. 

Over the course of two months, things were returning to their proper place and I had been officially invited by the brunette to visit their version of London and of course, I accepted. I was looking forward to that day, in the last letter I received, she told me that she would like to introduce Harry and Ronald, her boyfriend, to me. It is strange to think that I had heard everything about them, literally everything that happened at Hogwarts I knew from letters, but that we never actually talked. 

On the day that the visit was finally going to happen, I was more nervous than I had imagined. At 9 am, I was just getting ready when I heard a huge noise in the living room and for a few seconds I was scared, until I remembered that the girl warned me that this would happen. 

I could hear my parents' voices downstairs and I didn't even have to worry about hurrying, the only thing that caught my attention were the steps on the wooden stairs and then a light knock on the door. 

- Come in, Mione - I replied calmly, knowing who I was as I finished putting on my boots. 

- It's really impressive how you always guess right - she replied with a smile and came in, sitting next to me. 

- It's not very difficult, nobody in this house really knocks on the door before entering, although I keep complaining about it - we both smiled at my comment and I continued - I thought you were going to bring Harry and Ronald - I commented getting up and she immediately laughed , leaving me confused. 

- It is weird to hear you saying "Ronald" so formally, it seems that you do not know him- she explained to me and I had to laugh too.

- I think so too, but as I don't know him personally, it doesn't feel right to be informal, I can't explain it, but anyway, I'm ready to go. 

 We said goodbye to my parents before apparating to a street with several different stores. We walked a lot and it was nice to see how people were happier after all the terror that happened. 

Many people stopped to talk to Mione, she tried to disguise it but I noticed perfectly how well it did her, as if the whole sacrifice was worth it because no one would have to suffer or be afraid anymore. 

It was only at lunchtime that we met with the others at a restaurant, that I had to insist a lot to go and exchange my money because Hermione wanted to pay, since I was the guest of the day. 

Along the way, I noticed how this London is more normal than I imagined it to be, I have to look closely to see the less drastic differences.

- Is it true that you see different colors from everyone ?? - the redhead asked unable to hold himself and I just laughed at Hermione's indignant expression - Ouch! What? It’s not true? - He put his hand behind his head, where he had been slapped by the brunette next to him.  

 We had come in less than 5 minutes ago, I thought it was going to be a lot more uncomfortable than it really was. Right after the introductions, Ronald asked me that question and I admit that I was a little surprised. I had no idea that Mione talked about me for them. 

 

- It is true, colors work in a different way for me. Around everything there are colors popping out before my eyes - I tried to explain as easily as I could with a smile. 

- Around people too ?? Around us now, have colors ?? - his eyes sparkled with excitement when I agreed - what do you see around me ?? - he added with interest in his voice. 

- Many shades of red, blue and orange - I said after analyzing him for a few seconds.

- Hey, it reminds me of that book you gave me. The psychology of colors - her smile opened immediately when she remembered.

- Psychology? It couldn't have a better word for a title? Nobody in their right mind would read that - Ron leaned back in his chair and Harry's posture changed, as if he expected what was coming. 

- That book has the meaning of each color, I like to think that colors describe people but since you are not interested, I will not say it - the two went from water to wine in a matter of seconds.

- We are interested, how could I not have been told about this before ?? - The brown-eyed boy looked at her as if he had been terribly betrayed. 

- We had bigger concerns Ronald, since the first year you two took me into trouble that could have cost our life or our expulsion - she stared at him seriously and not a trace of remorse stamped his face.

- But you don't regret living all these adventures, right? It was fun at least, most of them - he replied leaning over to her with a wide smile. 

- Well, some choices could be decided much more sensibly, we weren't that much of a child - she said moving away to the side as the other approached - what are you doing, Ronald? - her cheeks burned a light pink. 

- What is the definition of red? - Harry said suddenly, taking my attention from the couple next to me, he looked as comfortable as I did. 

- Well, usually strong emotions. Passion, love, anger .. I see it in all of you, but it is not up to me to point out exactly what it means in each case - I said looking at the three since I received attention from the lovebirds. 

- And do you have proof of that? Is it really true ?? - He asked me again, even more curious. 

- In terms of colors and meanings, yes, but as there are few people with my condition, no researcher has identified the relationship of colors with what is around them. I like to believe it's true, so far it's not wrong and I have tested it several times. 

 We continued talking animatedly, even after our orders arrived. The topic of colors continued until everyone was satisfied with their definitions and then they decided to tell me some mini adventures that they lived together, which I still didn't know about. 

- And after all this episode with the spider, he had the courage to say that they didn't do it wrong, as if my head had almost been eaten by mistake - Ron said with wide eyes while gesturing non-stop. 

 We all laughed but I lost focus on the conversation as soon as two men stopped by our table, clearly father and son or something, due to the clear age difference. Both had friendly smiles on their faces, but the youngest one caught my attention the most. 

I just managed to hear an echo in my head of what the conversation was about, I obviously wasn't looking at him because it would be rude and it's not the kind of thing I would have the courage to do shamelessly. 

- We haven't seen each other in a while, Mr. Diggory, oh by the way, this is a friend of mine - Mione nodded at me and I smiled, just before I introduced myself and they did the same.

 Cedric, it’s his name. I remained distracted by my own thoughts until a tap on the shoulder woke me up, they were no longer there but I could tell they were at a nearby table. 

- Hey, I was talking to you - she said with an expression of indignation and a little bit of concern too - oh, finally back to this planet - she completed it as soon as she got my attention again. 

- What were you going to say, Mione? - I felt my face heat up but I tried to hide it as much as possible, the less attention for this moment of mine the better.

 The brunette decided to leave the questions for later and I thanked her internally for that. After we finished eating, it was just the two of us again since apparently both of the boys had plans for the rest of the day. 

- Did something bother you earlier? You didn't even look at us - I heard her say as we walked out of the restaurant.

- Yes, but you don't have to worry about that, I just needed a few seconds to put my head in place - I hadn't even realized what that could mean until I saw the smile on her face. 

- Was just one "hello" enough for your head to get out of place? Not that I'm judging, that's usually how it was at Hogwarts - her tone was a little bit malicious and I instantly slapped your arm. 

- It was nothing like that, I had never seen anyone or anything with so many colors before. He had a rainbow of colors, I couldn't even process it properly - I used the lowest tone I could, after all we were still in public. 

- Are you sure?? Your vision may have confused him with the whole background -  the rational side spoke first and I shook my head - well, it doesn't seem like a coincidence. Cedric has always been the definition of Hufflepuff, I couldn't think of anyone else who could be a rainbow, literally speaking - her smile returned even more prominent. 

 As a last stop, we went back to Diagon Alley because apparently the desserts there were the best. I was about to find out if this is true or not, when Hermione told me she was going to get a book, which really isn't a surprise to anyone, so I enjoyed my chocolate cake alone, sitting at one of the round pink tables. 

- Hey, I didn't expect to see you here - it definitely wasn't a female voice, so as I looked ahead there he was again. 

- I would go anywhere to have such a good cake - we both smiled and I motioned him to sit on the currently empty chair - and what is your reason? I asked with one eyebrow raised. 

- I'm working as a house elf today, my dad ordered a huge order here and I came to get it - maybe I had paid more attention than necessary to his smile, but who can judge me?

- I don't want to disturb you, it must be important - I tried to be the most sincere in those words, but most of me wanted his presence for a few more minutes. 

- He won't mind waiting longer, I couldn't miss the opportunity to spend a few more minutes with such a beautiful girl - he dared to wink at me. 

 Before I could answer, the cashier who also owns the place came to our table personally and what she said made me blush hard. 

- Hello, your father's order is ready, Mr. Diggory and we also have a special promotion for couples, if you are interested - her smile was loving. 

 Cedric was as speechless as I was, both overflowing with redness in our face and the lady did not seem to understand the situation at all, she brought another menu with options for couples to our table before leaving us alone again. 

- This is not what I expected to happen, but this colorful cake looks really good - I blinked slowly and couldn't resist it, I had to laugh and the confused expression on his face made me laugh even more. 

- That was a very HufflePuff way of dealing with the situation and, by the way, you should try it. It suits you after all - I commented before eating my own cake. 

- Do you study at Hogwarts too? I mean, studied when it wasn’t destroyed. 

- Oh no, I'm not a witch. I know a lot about it ‘cause of Hermione, apparently you're quite popular - again I noticed the pink on his cheeks increase and I must say, it's amusing  to watch. 

- Not quite popular for sure, what else you know about me? - He regained his confident posture and raised an eyebrow in my direction. 

- Not beyond what I have already implied, but I would love to know more if it’s okay for you.

 Where did I get that confidence from? I'm not sure, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity and my attitude seems to have taken him by surprise as much as me. The words disappeared from his mouth as I grinned. 

- Is there a problem Cedric? - I was having more fun than I expected this afternoon. 

- I should have asked you out, but you were faster - he said so seriously frustrated but my only desire is  just to laugh.

- Oh, do you want to go out with me? I meant to get to know each other as friends - he stopped to analyze me and I tried to be serious but before he apologized, I held his hand - I was just kidding, I would love to go out with you - I winked at him before letting go. 

- You are really ... my heart is not going to have a minute of peace from now on, is it? 

- I will try to take it easy on you Diggory, but I don't know if I will be able to do it for long.  

 An hour later I left to look for Hermione with a promise from Cedric, we would meet again next week.

Harry Potter Masterlist

[mashup-writing]

Hi! I'm new here and I have to say I really like your writing style quite a lot ^-^. May I request a scenario with Mamamoo Moonbyul from the punch in the gut prompt list?  Number 15 would be nice. Maybe the reader and Byul had a lot of fights and they know their relationship is not going to last any longer? Once again, thank you for writing for Mamamoo and I hope you have a beautiful day😊

Loving you is a losing game; Moon Byulyi (Mamamoo)

--------------------------------------------------

Summary: It wasn't that you were tired of each other. You really couldn't say for certain that you still loved each other either, you loved her that's for sure. But does she still love you?

Requested? ☑

애써봐도 몸부림도 다 소용없겠지.

Even if I try, all my struggles will be useless.

--------------------------------------------------

Your relationship with Moonbyul wasn't exactly formed in the most romantic of ways. You started out as friends, then you became friends with benefits, and it's safe to say that repeated physical intimacy resulted in unaccounted feelings. Thinking back on it now, it seemed like an illusion built up by the countless boosts of serotonin brought about by you countless booty calls with each other.

At first you chalked the fights up to stress. After all she was an idol that's managed to make it big in her home country and you had a job that demanded most of your time, if not all of it. Naturally you wanted to make things work, to find the root of the problem. Most of the days you fought, you exerted efforts to fix things between the two of you. "For love" you told yourself.

But lately? Lately you weren't so sure anymore.

--------------------------------------------------

If only had it been insignificant, you would have let this ordeal slide. But your girlfriend had forgotten about your anniversary plans after you had spent the last two weeks constantly reminding her that you had something up your sleeve. You even told her to be home by now and yet an hour and a half had passed since the set time you told her to be here.

The dinner you put so much effort into had gone cold. You sigh and decide to dig in all alone, you'll be damned if you let the steak and potatoes on your plate sit in the fridge. You ate slowly, savoring the flavor and although you don't usually like being the center of praise. You would say you did a damn good job of cooking this meal. It took you a total of an hour to finish eating, fix up the table, wash the dishes and get yourself ready for bed.

Time passes with you trying to lull yourself to sleep to no avail, you stare up at the ceiling and sigh to yourself. You hear the front door open and shut, keys being put into its holder, a few moments of silence and the bedroom door opens. Moonbyul walks in and your eyes meet, you force yourself to look away, missing the way her shoulders tense up with guilt. She walks over to your side of the bed and you turn your back to her. You don't know if you can look at her once more without breaking down. You don't know if you can look at her and find the strength to carry on with this relationship.

"I'm sorry." You scoff and Moonbyul doesn't notice how anger joins hands with your disappointment. You consider giving her a piece of your mind, but you can't find the strength to maintain an angry state so you decide to just let her know what you've been feeling, tired as you are. You roll over to the other edge of the bed and stand up.

"I spent the past two weeks telling you about this, reminding you to be home by sundown. Two weeks Byulyi, two weeks and when it came down to it you didn't even care enough to show up on time. We've fought with each other more times these past three months than in our whole lives combined, every single time I was the one to make a move to make things right. But the fights weren't the worst part of it, the worst part? With every little fight that passes it's starts looking more and more like you don't want me with you anymore."

She has the decency to look affronted. Standing up, she quickly makes her way over to you. Taking both your hands in hers she opens her mouth, ready to contrast everything you just said. "I know how it looks like right now jagiya, but this is just a rough patch. I do want this with you." Moonbyul places a kiss on each of your hands to try and prove her point before she continues.

"I'm sorry that we've been fighting a lot, that's just the stress of our lives getting the best of us and I'm so sorry that I missed today, there's no excuse for that and I know. But please, don't ever think that I don't want to make this work or that I don't care about you or us."

Moonbyul's eyes hold the desperate want to fix things, the same look you wish you would've seen ages ago when you were still willing to suffer through making things better. Now you're just tired of it all and she's more than just a little too late. You try to take your hands away from hers but she holds on tightly to you. And finally, for the first time in the three months you've spent fighting. You tell her exactly what brought you to where you are now.

"It hurts to love you, Byul. And I don't think I can put myself through it any longer."

Her grip loosens and you slip out of her grasp. Moonbyul stands glued to her spot, thoughts running through her head as tears starts to pool up in her eyes.

--------------------------------------------------

You walk out of the bedroom you've shared for so long and call up your best friend. Constant ringing pursues from the other side of the line, you grab your coat and keys. Making it out the front door just in time for them to answer.

"What's up bitch?"

Ahhh yes, your best friend. Ever the more respectful out of you both. Their voice as well as the greeting brings a small smile onto your face.

"Hey, I was wondering if I could crash over in your place for a while?"

--------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶--------------------

A/N: It's been 84 years since someone sent me a request, thank you so much for sending in yours. I hope this did your ask justice? Angsty dialogs (any kind of dialogue in general) and putting them down into letters and making them transition fluidly from one speaker to the next is still something that feels difficult for me.

[catxsnow]

FORGETFUL T.D.

Summary: You were maybe a little too forgetful at times, after all these years, Tim still wasn’t used to it. 

Warning: Fluff

A/N: This may or may not be based off the fact that I do in fact forget that I do not have 20/20 vision. 

Also I’ve finally got back to my laptop after a week and let me tell you did I miss writing 😫 some posts might be delayed, sorry 😭

Word Count: 1.9k

Tim hated how forgetful you were.

He hated that that you forgot the simplest of things like taking the trash out or emptying the dishwasher. You forgot dates, when you were supposed to meet up with him, and birthdays. Your memory was horrible, you didn't wish for it to be, but you couldn't help it. Forgetting things has been a problem your whole life.

Hell, you would even forget the punchline to the joke that you were telling.

What you lacked in memory, you made up for in fighting. You had been a vigilante for far longer than Tim had. Where he was an amazing detective, you were a lethal weapon. The two of you together was the perfect combination when it came to crime fighting. It was why Batman always set the two of you together.

Bruce Wayne never adopted you as a kid - you had your own great parents. However, after figuring out that Barbra Gordon - a family friend of yours - was Batgirl, you somehow figured out the rest of the gang. Bruce reluctantly agreed to train you. However, he learned pretty quickly just how forgetful you were.

It was frustrating at first. He was the world's greatest detective, a great memory had to be part of the gig. However, he learned to accommodate to you, that was how you got paired up with Tim when he joined the team. The two of you were close, too close to be just friends.

It was only after a few months of constantly working together did the two of you start dating as well. A year after that, the two of you moved in together. That was when Tim really started to realize just how forgetful you really were. As much as it drove him crazy, he also found it too adorable.

Tim got into the habit of leaving sticky notes everywhere for you to remember. You loved to read his little notes - even though they were to remind you to do something that you didn't even want to do in the first place. He always left a little heart at the bottom of it.

Half the time you didn't even have to say anything and Tim was already handing you something that you misplaced. He was your blessing, your savior.

You could be his downfall sometimes. On missions, you forced yourself to go over the plan several times so that it would stick. Thankfully, for the most part you were pretty good at remembering what needed to be done and when. You knew the costs of what would happen if you messed up and made sure that a failed mission was never on you.

That didn't mean you would forget the small things, like restocking weapons and gadgets. There were a few times that you would be out fighting on the streets and run out of batarangs to throw. It would leave you in trouble and someone would have to come give you a hand. Thankfully, it was never a big enough mistake to have someone's life taken.

You and Tim were well into adult hood and had been dating for years. As you got older, the more you realized how much you loved him. It was like everyday there was something new about him that you fell in love with even more.

That week, Tim was already upset with you because you had forgot about the date night that he had planned. You tried your best to make it up to him, but he was still rather upset about it. You had tried every trick in the book - puppy eyes, the pout, doing everything that he asked above and beyond, even treating him with home cooked meals every day. None of it worked.

"Tim," you sighed. He was working at his desk on his laptop, back towards you and no sign of giving you any attention. You stalked towards him, wrapping your arms over his shoulders and placing a bunch of kisses against his cheek. "Tim, I'm sorry. I know this date meant a lot to you, I didn't mean to forget about it."

"I know you didn't," Tim sighed. He turned his head slightly so you could kiss his lips this time. "I know you never mean to forget, it's just... I had a lot planned."

"What can I do to make up for it?" You asked. After trying all week, you were out of ideas. Tim didn't really answer you, so you had taken it upon yourself to sit on his lap so you had all your attention. "Timmy, please."

"Let's get ready for patrol," Tim suggested. He gave you a quick peck on the lips before grabbing you by the legs and carrying you into where you kept your suits. If he was still giving you kisses then he couldn't have been that mad. There was only once that he went three days without so much as a cheek kiss.

Reluctantly, you followed Tim's request to go out on patrol without another plea to get him to forgive you. This wasn't the first time that you had forgotten about a date with him, he was never this upset about it before. It was best not to worry about it while you were out in the city, distractions were never good in Gotham.

You and Tim were perched on a rooftop that overlooked the city. It wasn't until you were up there, did you realize that once again you had forgotten something: your contacts.

Lucky for you, your eyesight wasn't terrible. It was bad enough that you shouldn't drive without your glasses but you could easily make it through a day in your house without them. However protecting Gotham while having to make precise, metric moves? That was something that you shouldn't have forgotten contacts for.

Since Tim was already mad at you for forgetting one thing that week, you decided that it was best not to say anything. You were too far from home to just go grab a pair and you didn't exactly carry any on you - after tonight it was probably a good idea to throw a pair into your belt in case this happened again.

The night was fine at first, you and Tim took down a few thugs with ease. You didn't miss your contacts too much and thankfully whenever you threw a weapon, Tim didn't notice how bad your aim was. It was brutal had many times you missed your target and you were sure that the people you were fighting noticed.

You and Tim were back on the rooftop scouting the city. Tim spotted another crime from down below and pulled out his grappling gun to get there. You had done the same, and aimed it in the same spot that Tim had his. However, without your contacts, you had missed entirely and you were already jumping from the roof.

It took you less than a second to realize that you were free-falling. Lucky for you, it took Tim even less time.

"(Y/N)!" Tim yelled, not caring that he used your real name. Tim had already landed in the spot that he had desired to and thanks to his incredible reflexes, he had managed to shoot his grappling hook back towards you. You were meters from hitting the ground before Tim had snatched you up.

The two of you stood on the ledge, hearts racing from what had just happened. You nearly died, all because you were stupid enough to forget your contacts.

Tim didn't care that you were on the job, he pulled you in for a long, panicked kiss. He swore that you could hear his heart racing through his chest. You had come to a lot of close calls but this was completely different than anything you had gone through. Never had a near death been your own fault.

"What the hell was that?" Tim still held your face in his hands, scared to ever let you go again.

"I, uh," you looked down in shame. It was ridiculous and you didn't want to admit the truth. "I forgot my contacts at home."

Tim's eyes closed and an annoyed breath escaped him. You could only stand there and watch as he walked away from you. Tim frustratingly paced back and forth in front of you with his hands being thrown up in the air. He was pissed at you, it was obvious.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tim finally spoke again. "This is ridiculous, how did you forget your contacts? Why did you not say anything? You could have died right there! Do you know how heart broken I would have been? How we all would have been? Just because you forgot your contacts! I'm tired of this, (Y/N). This is getting out of hand."

"Red Robin-" You cut yourself. This wasn't the time to use your hero names, not when he was so emotional about this. "Tim. I'm sorry. You were already mad about this week and I didn't want to upset you more. I should have known better, I'm sorry. I've been trying to be better, I really am."

"Fuck, (Y/N)," Tim stalked back to you. He pulled you into a hug, a much needed one. As angry and frustrated as he was, it didn’t mean he didn’t love you and it didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. "I'm just glad you're okay, I love you."

"I love you too," You mumbled into him. "I'm going to make that date up to you, tonight, everything that I've ever done wrong. I just wish you would tell me why you were so upset this time."

Tim pulled just enough away from you that he could look into your masked eyes. The rough texture of his gloves glided against your skin but you didn't mind. "I had big plans for that night."

"What kind of plans?"

"Plans that I wanted to ask you to marry me," Tim revealed with the tiniest of smiles on his lips. He wanted this to be special, you deserved the most grand, meaningful proposal but he knew that you couldn't forgive yourself unless you knew why he was upset. This was why, Tim Drake wanted to make you his wife, and you had simply just forgotten about his plans.

"Tim," You barely whispered, shocked by his news. You crashed into him, kissing him with every ounce of love that you had. Marrying him was always something in the back of your mind, but never this early. Tim grinned into this kiss and pulled you completely flush against his body.

"Will you marry me, (Y/N) (L/N)?" Tim asked. He didn't have the ring, and he wasn't down on one knee. Hell, the two of you weren't even yourself right now - you both were in complete suit with masks on. Yet, with how dysfunctional you both were, this seemed to be more perfect than anything you could have imagined.

"Yes!" You nodded. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks and you could barely contain the happiness in you. You kissed Tim once more. Tim couldn't wait for the day that he was going to be able to kiss you while calling you his wife.

"Just promise me you won't forget our wedding day."

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and thanks for sticking with this. It’s quite fun to write for this ship, and I hope you’re all ready for homoerotic exercise and another argument between men who don’t know how to communicate :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Three - Proving a Point

Day Two: Tuesday

Gajeel woke in a pissy mood. This wasn't going like it was supposed to.

Freed was meant to be a smug, self important man with no practical skills, no world-hardened experiences, and no way of keeping up with what Gajeel was demanding of him. His three day plan had focused around humbling Freed, telling him that he wasn't hot-shit like he clearly thought, and making him realise that his cushioned life didn't mean he was Gajeel's equal.

What was not meant to happen was for Freed to be competent! He wasn't meant to make a shelter, he wasn't meant to be able to make a fire without a match, and he wasn't meant to be able to cook the damn fish and make them taste good! Even Gajeel couldn't do that.

Worse, the fucker knew. Oh he knew what Gajeel wanted but wasn't getting.

He hadn't been so smug when he'd lost though, had he? He hasn't been running his mouth when he'd been in the stream, gurgling his pathetic little surrender. Nah, he'd looked exactly how Gajeel wanted him; weak, embarrassed and unable to deal with the fact he was out of his league.

Sure, it hadn't taken long for Freed to recover and spout some bullshit about Gajeel being intimidated by his magic, or whatever the hell it was he said. He was trying to save face and Gajeel wouldn't let him; he had lost their fight because he couldn't live without his spells. That was impractical, short sighted and the way a spoiled brat of a man worked. No doubt if he had to rely on his fists more, he would have seen the stream as something to take advantage of and used it, rather than falling into Gajeel's trap.

Hah. At least one thing had gone Gajeel's way.

Mostly.

Kind of.

Look, Gajeel might hate the man and the things he seemed to stand for, but Freed wasn't bad looking. And Gajeel was just a man, who had been stripped to the waist with Freed in the same state of undress, wrestling one another. He was bound to get distracted for a moment. Thankfully, Freed's nasty kick to the balls and the ensuing tantrum after had quickly quelled any growing interest.

Gajeel knew what he had to do today, though. Because if he was going to fight with Freed at the end of the week, he needed to respect the man. He wasn't going to respect Freed if he couldn't take a defeat, and if he couldn't handle himself without his magic. So today, Freed was going to prove he had the ability to back up his words.

Okay, it was a tenuous reason for what he had planned, but fuck it. Fuck Freed too.

It was tempting to wake the prick up by dumping some of the water Gajeel had gathered over his sleeping face - a nice little reminder of how the fight had ended - but he decided against it. He needed to have everything prepared before he woke up, so it would be better to check that everything was in place. That, and Freed apparently snored a little when he was sleeping, and Gajeel certainly didn't want to interrupt the possible blackmail that could come from it.

And perhaps it was nice to have something cut through the silence of the forest.

Gajeel had trained in this forest many times, and as such had come to know how to utilise it's assets. He wandered slowly, blinking away the sleep in his eyes, and eventually found what he was looking for. A large tree that had fallen down years ago, and stumbled down a hill. What remained was a leafless trunk at the bottom of a steep incline, perfect for strength training.

Next, he walked to the largest upstanding tree within reasonable walking distance. Gajeel had often climbed this tree to push his agility and upper body strength, and it was the perfect way to test Freed's practical skills. The tree was still standing tall, the branches Gajeel used to climb still attached. Perfect, no excuses for when Freed fucked up.

When he got to the lake, Gajeel grinned a little. The morning was cold and the water would be freezing, the worst temperature to take a swim in. Normally Gajeel would have hated to swim in weather like this, but it would certainly be a nice wake-up call for the spoiled little Prince.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun. For Gajeel anyway.

——

"I think yesterday proved pretty damp conclusively that you're out of luck if you don't have your magic," Gajeel said with crossed arms, looking down at Freed. "So, today I'm gonna teach you a couple techniques that'll come in handy when you're in a situation where you can't spell yourself out of trouble."

Freed clearly wanted to make a comment, but held his tongue. He was learning, huh.

When Gajeel had returned from his check of the forest, Freed had woken up, set up a new fire and was using the rest of the fish (and a few berries that he had picked) to make them both a breakfast. Gajeel had wanted to reject it out of hand, but it had smelt great and if it was anywhere near as good as his meal the day before, refusing it would be a mistake. It had tasted amazing, so Gajeel had huffed out a thanks and gave a short nod of thanks.

Soon after that, Gajeel had motioned for Freed to follow him. Freed had done so without complaint - Gajeel couldn't prove it, but liked to think it was because the asshole was too embarrassed after his loss - and allowed himself to be led down the stream, towards the lake.

"You've got wings right, when you use yer magic?" Gajeel asked. "So yer probably gonna use 'em to get over every little thing, right?"

"Like you do with your little cat friend, I expect," Freed commented, and Gajeel stiffened slightly. Freed noticed and smirked a little. "My apologies, I interrupted you. Please, go on."

"Don't need yer permission," Gajeel grunted, more to himself than to the man standing before him. "But if yer using yer wings as much as I think you are, you ain't ready to deal with terrain that ain't easy to walk through. So, if this week's about improving then this is gonna help you get over that flaw. We run from here towards the lake, taking us through forested ground which ain't even and ain't safe, and then we swim from one side of the lake to the other."

"So it's a race then?" Freed asked, annoyingly not intimidated by the proposition.

"If you want," Gajeel shrugged. "But I ain't got a prize or anythin'. Definitely not one for participation, like yer probably used to."

Freed rolled his eyes at that, but didn't ride to the bait. Instead, he said, "Perhaps when I win, you'll cook for once."

"You ain't gonna win," Gajeel claimed.

"We'll see," Freed hummed a little, far too smug for his own good.

"Stretch up," Gajeel muttered, even though he wanted to push the man further, maybe even see if he could add an actual forfeit for losing, something to really make the fucker squirm. But, well, Gajeel didn't know for sure he would win, so couldn't risk things just in case.

Just as Gajeel went to start stretching his calves, he heard the sound of ruffling fabric and frowned. He ignored it for a moment as he felt the gentle burn of his muscles working, but caught sight of Freed's white - now dirt stained and crumpled - shirt now hanging over the branch of a nearby tree. With slightly furrowed brows, he turned towards Freed to demand an explanation, only to see him kicking off his pants and placing them right next to his shirt, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. His tight and eye-catching boxer-briefs.

Before the thoughts could even form about how Freed was wearing his underwear to perfection, Gajeel forced his memory back to the night before. About how he'd acted and how he had tried to make Gajeel feel like crap just to feed his own ego.

Freed had lost a wrestling match, and had thrown a fit about it. Gajeel couldn't respect a man like that, and he couldn't find a guy hot if he didn't respect him.

"The hell are you doing?" Gajeel demanded.

"If we're going to swim, then I'd rather not get my only set of clothes wet when it could be avoided," Freed explained, and Gajeel was momentarily thankful that he didn't look ready to remove his boxers. He couldn't think like that, so spoke again.

"Cause you can't stand a bit of discomfort, right?" Gajeel grumbled.

"No, I just don't see the point of making things worse for myself to prove a point," Freed looked pointedly towards Gajeel when he said that. "The water is clearly going to be cold and the weather doesn't look like it'll improve, meaning it'll be a struggle to dry ourselves already. The fire can only do so much, and we'll either have to lounge around in wet clothes out of stubbornness, or remove them and wait for them to dry while we ourselves get dry. That extends the time we'll be cold, making us both uncomfortable and wasting time before whatever inane task you've got next. That, coupled with the fact that this is flu season, seems like good enough justification for avoiding a stupid problem."

Gajeel could hardly argue the point, so instead he mumbled, "We ain't gonna be lounging around."

"What an astute and well thought out argument," Freed deadpanned, and Gajeel wanted to punch him again. He didn't, instead averting his eyes as Freed started to stretch his arms. "Nobody is forcing you to do the same if you're shy, Mister Redbox. To me it just feels like the reasonable course of actions."

Rather than speaking, Gajeel turned his back. He also removed his shirt and boots; but he wasn't getting half naked like the pervert next to him.

Calling him a pervert was maybe a stretch.

He pushed back that thought, as well as the thoughts of how damn good Freed's ass looked in those boxers - Gajeel was only a man, and he couldn't deny what he saw - and instead got himself into line with Freed. The race is what he should have been focusing on, not the fact that Freed didn't look half bad when he was taken away from his pampered and luxurious sheen. Tangled hair and the odd spec of dirt really did wonders for the pretty-boy.

The race. Focus on the race. And the fact the guy couldn't deal with a loss.

"Ready?" Gajeel asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Go."

He lurched forward before he could think, sprinting through the undergrowth of the the forest as he ran towards the lake. Years of guild work in places like this had allowed for the perfection of running through the forest; you kept alternating your gaze between the ground and on the trees.

Usually he would have turned his skin to iron so he wouldn't have to focus on the branches in his way, but he was trying to prove a point. He winced a little as a sharp end to a twig scraped against his cheek, far too close to his eye, but didn't let it stop his pace. He could hear Freed's breathing very close behind him, so evidently Freed knew how to run through a forest as well as Gajeel did, so he couldn't let up for a moment.

When they were out of the forest, there was a short run towards the lake with more space than there had been in the forest. Gajeel forced himself to run as fast as he could, not wanting to let Freed overtake him now he had the width to do so. And not having a view of the man's body might-

The race. The way he'd acted the night before. Focus dammit!

If telling himself wasn't enough to cut off his libido, the face first plunge into freezing, dirty water certainly did. He let out a shuddering gasp when his head broke the surface, but couldn't allow the ice-cold water to stop him. He quickly started to swim, smirking a little when he realised he still had the lead.

The smirk died when Freed overtook him pretty damn quickly.

Gajeel saw nothing but ripples of water ahead of him, and gritted his teeth as he tried to speed up. He was a man built to brute force his way through a problem, while Freed was apparently more agile. He should have expected that, but he had wanted to leave Freed in the dust during the run so it wouldn't be an issue.

All he could do now was swim to the other shore of the lake, pissed off.

When he reached the end of the lake, he saw Freed resting on one of the large boulders that made up the shoreline. He was panting, soaking wet and still wearing those fuckimg boxers. When he saw Gajeel haul himself up from the water, he looked towards him and smirked.

"That didn't end up how you wanted, did it?"

"Shut up," Gajeel snarled. "Get yer clothes, we've got a busy day."

When Freed laughed, Gajeel nearly pushed him into the lake again.

——

"So, you think ya can beat that?"

Gajeel had more than got his confidence back now, and he was smirking at Freed with his arms flexed intentionally.

Both he and Freed were stood at the bottom of a steep hill, where the dead tree-truck sat. Gajeel had explained this challenge; they would both have to push the tree-truck up the hill as far as they could. The justification for this exercise was that Freed might one day find himself in a situation where he was trapped without his magic and needed to force his way out with his strength alone, and the exercise was meant to simulate that. Freed clearly saw that Gajeel just wanted to push his limits, but he didn't say anything.

This was the last task of the day. They'd already attempted the tree climbing that Gajeel had planned, and Freed had been obnoxiously good at it. Gajeel had been faster, but they both knew that he had a natural advantage because he'd had practice. Gajeel could hardly boast about being slightly better then Freed at something he had done many times and Freed was new to.

Gajeel had just finished his attempt at pushing the trunk, and was fucking delighted when he saw he'd beaten his own personal record. This was how he would regain his control over things.

Freed didn't stand a chance.

"I'm sure I'll be a worthy contender," Freed stated, walking towards the tree-trunk. "Which is a feat, I expect, given that you've clearly been setting me up for failure from the beginning."

"Maybe if you weren't so predictable then I wouldn't have been able to plan things out so well," Gajeel grunted.

"So you predicted that, in everything other than tasks that relied solely on physical strength, I have exceeded your expectations and beaten you in completion, I suppose?" Freed taunted quietly as he positioned himself against the tree-trunk. "I expect you did all of this simply to prove your inferiority."

"Inferiority?" Gajeel scoffed. "You ain't done anything but bitch about this because it's not going yer way."

"Not going my way?" Freed laughed, turning from the log and looking at Gajeel again. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"All you've done is make yer little comments about how you don't think it's fair," Gajeel challenged, taking a step forward and glaring the other man down. "And when ya lose, you throw a tantrum."

"I throw tantrums," Freed demanded, sounding equal parts exasperated and annoyed. "As opposed to you, who has been acting perfectly rational throughout this? It hasn't escaped my attention that you clearly see Makarov's initiative as some sort of personal affront to you, and you have apparently seen it fair to force all of these grievances onto me. So for you, a man who has been as close to stomping his feet and wailing as his pride allows, to complain about me throwing a tantrum is practically laughable."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Gajeel took another step forward. "I'm doing this because yer clearly a spoiled little city-boy and I ain't associating myself with something who can't-"

"Can't what?" Freed snapped. "Can't make a shelter? Can't start a fire? Can't swim across a lake faster than you? Because I've done all of this despite your clear hopes otherwise. Or would you rather judge my worth as a mage by seeing me push a dead tree up a hillside, or to wrestle you without the weapon I use nor the magic I wield? Because, Mr Redfox, if you need to force such strict parameters to best me and you consistently lose, then perhaps your plan isn't a good one."

Fuck, he wanted to punch the guy. Fully encase his fists in iron and beat the shit out of the guy. It would be damn satisfying to see the guy knocked out, while the smugness straight out of him.

"Nothing to say?" Freed continued, a patronising look on his face.

"Fuck off," Gajeel growler, turning around and going to walk away. Before he could take a step, a wall of glowing runes shot up in front of him, blocking his exit. He turned to Freed with an expression of fury. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You," Freed snapped, and magic seemed to emanate from him.

He looked feral in that moment, with all the shields of fancy clothes and smart ass words replaced by anger and magic. His shirt was billowing in the magic induced winds, and the glare on his face was accentuated by the purple swirling in his eye. Fuck, he looked like a man on the edge and it shot straight to Gajeel's dick. Freed was a gentleman gone wild, and if that wasn't one of Gajeel's most well-buried fantasies then he didn't know what was.

The expression was gone as quickly as it came, and the magic swarming Freed's eye fell away. For a moment, Freed looked worried, but he was talking again before Gajeel could understand why he looked like that.

"Neither of us are happy about this, but at the end of the week we have to fight side by side, and the biggest issue we have right now is that we can't stand one another," Freed seemed more calm now, as if the bubble of anger had burst. What the hell had caused that? "So, either you plan something that might make us work together, or at least respect one another, or we both stop trying and say to hell with the consequences."

Gajeel didn't say anything. It felt like the rug had been pulled from under him.

Suddenly, a wave of shitty realisation hit him. Freed had a point when he said he was taking his anger out on him, when he really just didn't want to do the damn training thing at all. He wasn't being fair.

"I think that's enough," Freed sighed. "I'll gather my things and go home. You needn't contact me again."

Freed was walking away before Gajeel could react, and the walls of runes fell around them both. A horrid feeling of regret filled Gajeel, and he quickly jogged to catch up with Freed, who was clearly ignoring him. He kinda deserved it.

"Shit, Freed, wait," He placed a hand on the man's chest, and Freed glared at him. "Yer right, I ain't been fair," It wasn't a fun thing to admit. "I had some ideas about who you were, and didn't wanna let ya prove me wrong, even when you were kicking my ass," He sighed. "And yer right about me wanting to fuck you over, that's why I did this shit, and it wasn't right. That was shitty of me."

"Well, I can hardly blame you for judging me. We were both guilty of that," Freed admitted. "And thank you for admitting that. But I don't see how we could suddenly become a cohesive, effective team, we're hardly compatible."

Gajeel sighed, Freed had a point.

But if a Fairy Tail mage was good at anything, they were good at being stubborn.

"What if we have a fight?" Gajeel proposed, and Freed frowned at him. "Talking like this ain't gonna get rid of the attitude we have for each other, right? You're still pissed at me, and you said some things that made me wanna sock a punch in yer jaw. Maybe having the chance to beat the shit outta each other might break through the attitude problems we have."

"That's not too bad an idea," Freed admitted, glancing at the evening sky for a moment. "It would be cathartic to make you scream."

"Buy me dinner first, city-boy," Gajeel teased before he could think. Freed all but gaped at him, and Gajeel was speaking to fill the silence before he could stop himself. "Y'know, I ain't ever seen you fight before. Don't know how you work."

"Then I have the advantage," Freed grinned slightly. "And you're voluntarily giving it to me. Perhaps you really are repentant."

"Nah, just wanna kick yer ass without you having an excuse."

"We'll see," Freed smirked, and Gajeel found himself grinning back.