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1-49 · 1 year ago

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hit by luck

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung, sungchan ⁝ tags: rain. tokyo. & love at first sight / fluff. gets lil angsty. wc. 3.1k

note: this has been in my drafts ever since those two pictures dropped, & basically, this whole thing is just an extension of what sorta of mood they inspired. ik it’s kind of late but i love the atmosphere, so im posting it anyway.

All this waiting ─── Holding out for the storm to pass. Stuck in traffic and waiting. Waiting for the bus at a crowded bus stop.

Since the idiotic weather app on your phone was unable to foresee such a severe downpour, you are without an umbrella. You find yourself standing like a cat caught in the rain after spending a perfect sunny afternoon exploring Tokyo’s streets.

Neither the metro nor the two buses that have come & gone are going in your direction. More room and privacy for yourself as the majority of passengers board the buses and lessen the crowded, small, glassed station—for which you are grateful. After trying your luck twice, you are stuck waiting for the third bus.

The peculiar scent of rain on asphalt fills your nostrils as you accept your bad luck & attempt to take solace in the rain, the foggy lights of the passing traffic & the bright neon signs that give the city its unique flavor. There are a variety of sounds in the street, ranging from soft and loud to melodic and even disorienting.

You seem like such a loser out in the rain. The end effect of running so fast and not caring where you step is clumps of hair and muddy shoes, followed by ten minutes of waiting. You are glad you didn’t wear too much makeup for today’s walk because you’d have looked like a total wreck. Smugly, you try to adjust your mascara and eyeshadow in your little mirror and pretend it’s fine.

And so, you concentrate on the raindrops as they land in a specific dip in the pavement, creating tiny air bubbles that rise to the surface like bubbles in a champagne glass. This little world seems to be what fascinates you about Tokyo at the moment, despite its vast size.

That is when the two giants casually stroll into the safe haven you have found in all the fast life.

The two towering frames jostle one another in this terrifying performance that the sky is putting on, laughing at something so ridiculous that you have to wonder how they can do it. The evening sky is practically ripping at its seams, but they do not seem to notice.

Their laughter is contagious as they battle for space under a transparent umbrella that the taller one is holding. Their bodies are too broad for the protective gear, and they seem to lose simultaneously because most of their opposing shoulders and arms are soaked. For the tiny spaciousness they seek but don’t find, the pair comes across as endearing and humorous. You realize there is beauty in the fact that neither of them seems to mind. They remain upbeat and truly unaffected, which is inspiring.

That they are close friends is highly likely. They are even dressed alike. One is wearing green cargo pants and the other over-dye jeans, both with black upper apparel.

They could be mistaken for twins due to their dangerous synchronicity. Not like born together. Not fused like the two sides of an oyster encasing a precious pearl. However, exactly opposites, much like the two sides of a mirror. Equally stunning, and in their case, the pearl is their friendship.

The sounds of the city fade, and you feel every nook and cranny in your body thudding as you witness them make the spontaneous decision to wait for a bus.

The ‘polar twins’ resemblance they give off is unfair.

While the cargo boy’s carefree demeanor gives hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks, funny videos, and Twitter drama, the headphones hanging around his neck pay close and serious attention to music, which you thoroughly appreciate. This particular aspect of him almost instantly makes you fall in love.

But the taller boy doesn’t fall behind either;

he closes the umbrella as soon as he enters the glassed area. His hand clasped around his brown cashmere cardigan radiates warmth and comfort, and his strikingly bare collarbones radiate needs and dreams. His contradictory aura clouds your judgment and prevents you from making further assumptions about his interests in basketball, games, and literature.

The tip of the umberlla accidentally bumps into your arm when he closes it, revealing his slight clumsiness.

His regret is evident in his eyebrows even before he says, “Sorry.” His eyes widen with it. Lovely and compassionate, with a hint of mocha. Like there is freshly brewed coffee swirling around inside his crystals.

Sparks shimmer up your arms as you watch and listen to his apology and say that it’s nothing.

The music boy’s position is to your left, as the ‘clumsy’ guy shifts to your right, which he does not realize until he apologizes.

With obvious happiness, the music boy inserts himself and begins to tease him. “He acts that way all the time, so don’t worry. If his good looks don’t work to get him noticed, he will try playing on his clumsiness.”

You can be sure that the ‘clumsy’ guy is pouting and sulking over the nonsense that was just said, even though your eyes are finally turning to the person who is seeking them.

There is an eternal smile on the face of the goofier of the two. One of those smiles that can break through the clouds and stop the rain. A ray of light, really. He breaks through the barriers of your heart with his quiet voice too. The fact that he can capture your heart with such ease and beauty is just a crime.

They may have looked the same in one frame, but now that they are essentially standing on either side of you, they are starting to show more of their charm. It gets harder to be between two extremely attractive giants as their individuality starts to emerge.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the boy you are looking at is the younger one.

And while the bright colors of the city match his mischievousness, his confidence has a short fuse. This becomes apparent when he stops coming up with new jokes for his friend and stays staring at you for longer than fifty seconds.

Before you know what the two of you are doing, his smile spreads across your face like sunlight does on tulips in the early spring. It’s an inadvertent eye lock until he realizes it’s too much. It really melts your heart to discover that he is a shyer one, and you end up melting right into the rain puddle that is at your feet.

You then take up your previous posture, facing forward. For a brief while, they distracted you from the fact that you were waiting for a bus to the hotel. As you take a big swallow, there is an odd quietness among the three of you.

You cannot help but wish that some of them would speak up and say something. Why you want this to go on is beyond you, but you want it to. Their bodies radiate a warmth that suffocates you while simultaneously providing warmth against the chilly autumn breeze. This brings you back to the point where you’re mentally cursing your app for tricking you because you were totally unprepared for today’s outing.

‘Soft eyes’, as in literally, hands you the sweather he was holding as soon as he notices that you’re shivering.

It pains you to try to turn down his offer, but you do.

Still, he refuses to accept it. “You can give it back as soon as one of our buses arrives. Keep it till then.” Ignoring your protests, he carefully places the soft wool in your hands. You have no choice but to comply with his insistence. “Besides, I don’t need it.”

You raise your gaze to him and once more meet his eyes—this time with a smile added.

You remember that when he bumped into you, he was trying to hide a smile so that he could apologize more sincerely, which means you haven’t been a witness to his smile just yet.

However, his smile has the same profound effect on you as the guy on the other side. You are sure the sun is in his heart too, just as much as it’s in his eyes. His kindness is his beauty. Very soft; almost as soft as a ball of cashmere, or similar to his cardigan’s overly long sleeves as you play with them.

Given their earlier recklessness, you would never have trusted two random boys to be this kind. So gracious as to lay you two of their favorite accessories in your possession.

One is keeping you warm, and the other, after being prodded to share the song he has been working on, is putting his headphones on you and letting his joy seep through your ears to your bones.

Feeling a little more shy, his breath hits your face, tense and warm as he’s inside. He is pulsing with understanding so as not to invade your personal space while practically failing. As if you couldn’t have done it yourself, he decides to put his headphones on you abruptly. A current is all that is moving him, and not a single conscious brain cell is applying any kind of brake.

The color hits his cheeks when your gaze meets halfway again. He’s being cheeky, though, when he asks, “Are you ready?” while towering over you.

He presses play on the song he composed after you nod with equal enthusiasm.

With the ‘soft guy’ on the right, you’re a little more confident, but when it comes to the ‘shy boy’ in front, you are a complete mess. The prospect that he’s equally as wreaked as you are is the primary cause of your emotions. They are deeply affecting you both, and even though you would prefer to hide in the next bush, you are pursuing each other naively and playfully.

Your smiles are getting bigger as you gaze at one another, but his is weaker, more fragile, as in ‘until the piece I composed gets your pass, I am afraid.’

You close your eyes because you don’t have enough in you to match that.

The outside world ceases to matter as the ambient composition intensifies and begins to resolve inside you.

You explode at the slightest touch from a ‘soft boy’ who leans in close and tries to listen through your headphones.

Since he also expressed dissatisfaction over never having heard the music, you try to be understanding and let him into your space too. He was unable to listen to it earlier due to the ‘it is not completed’ statements. This was his chance. And so, you acknowledge that this evening, everything came together to allow the two of you to feel the excitement of being the first to hear something so exquisite.

The storm itself, you can swear, ceased.

Though the sound of life is muffled by the composition in your eardrums, you can somewhat hear three heartbeats pounding in time with the music. It feels as though nothing matters and yet everything has led up to this.

‘Music boy’ watches your reactions as both of you remain silent, neither of you speaking to disturb the bliss.

This rescue is slow-moving and pleasant compared to Tokyo’s fast life. You find a brief moment of inner tranquility after so much running, fury at the weather, and anger towards the electronic device in your back pocket.

Entirely, you lose yourself in the song, and the way your lashes curl to soften the likely pictures that appear beneath your lids is proof of this. It seems that even in Tokyo, things can come to a stop.

Like a drop of rain in the countryside, your smile is sincere and pure. That is what he has composed, and that is what this is. He has awakened that within you.

Clarity and translucence—opposing to the densely scented city air, which is heavy with the smell of burned street meat and motor oil.

As distinct as the boys standing next to you, everything has a raw beauty.

When you turn to face the taller one, you find that your noses are almost in contact because of how close the headphones have brought his face to yours.

His most beautiful features are dripping with admiration as he gives you the thumbs up. Although you find the signal confusing, you nod because you think it is abrupt and cute.

Upon turning to face the musical prodigy as you currently perceive him—you having no prior knowledge of him—he grins more than ever.

With great anticipation, he asks, “And!?”

“I wish I had a better word to describe it, but it is rather majestic. The melody is lovely and seems to pour love and tranquility indefinitely. It made me feel better. Basically, thank you, is all I have to say.”

“It truly did the same for me,” remarks the tall guy, nodding. “You know, he never lets us listen to his music,” he adds, moving in closer to give the younger person a sweet shoulder shake. “This guy!!”

They both laugh it off, just like they did when they walked in beside you. They are unaware that, with those smiles, they have taken everything from you. However, as soon as you peek at the bus in the distance, read aloud your hotel’s street address, and confirm that it is your route, their smiles become lifeless and hollow almost instantly. In the same instant, the hope that they both brought about vanishes. There is a bittersweet sensation.

Even though you all know the end is near, it seems like no one anticipated it.

All of it comes crashing down: the rain, the hope, the magic, and all three of your desperate sets of eyes that cannot stop staring into each other’s faces. Each microsecond, millisecond, and second matters. Everything was brief at first, then prolonged, and finally just brief again.

“It’s time to return this,” you utter as you remove the cardigan.

Given how chilly the owner’s hands are once you skin-brush them, the wool should feel even warmer in his hands after you return it.

“You must have frozen because of me,” you point out, brows knitted in concern. “I am so sor—”

“No, I am fine, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, unlocking the umbrella as he comes to his senses and accepts the arrival of reality. To protect you from the rain until you board the bus, he says, “Here,” giving you room to move under the umbrella.

Initially, you pout, believing that rejecting him would be best, but eventually, you stop yourself and follow his instructions exactly. It’s time to savor every moment, even if it’s just spending a little time together under an umbrella, before you part ways with them and never see them again.

You remove your headphones and give them back to the cutest prodigy you have ever met. “You should start having more faith in the things you create. That was really beautiful.”

“Thank you!!” The umbrella boy exclaims in his name. “Someone at last to make him begin to realize.”

The younger boy defends himself, smiling, “Shut up.” And, even though he’s well aware that the umbrella was never meant to fit both of them, much less three people, he’s still attempting to squeeze himself under it.

You guys are all biting smiles; there is such innocence and purity to the compressed situation all of you are in. This feeling is far more intense than what you experienced as a teenager witnessing your crash in the hallways. Greater than the scorching feeling you experienced on your first kiss. Which, on the other hand, makes this even more heartbreaking than the first time your heart broke. There is something odd about it all, and it has been a long day at that.

You stay sandwiched between their bodies, which rise on both sides of you as sturdy as a brick wall. You regretfully realize that you cannot be imprisoned between them forever, even though for a brief moment you wish you could.

You can sense the peculiar chemistry has subdued the storm, and it even appears to be stopping the rain. And as it draws near the bus stop, the bus finally lets out its sharp, piercing ‘pissss’ sound. You’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind about how this sound is going to become your least favorite sound. The noise that will always bother you the most because it’s ruining something so beautiful.

When you look into their faces, all you see is gold dust smeared in their eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” you eventually admit.

They return with the same admiration, though with a sorrowful smile.

They wait until after you get on the bus. They wait for you to get comfortable, knowing that you will take their side and catch your farewell look out the window.

That is precisely what you do; you approach the first seat with that same thought in mind. Rain cascades down the glass, and the windows are a little foggy and difficult to see through due to the warmth inside.

Inside and around your heart, there is a heavy, funny feeling. You make an effort to clear the fog from the window but the moment feels so so hopeless as the bus starts to move. In actuality, all you’re doing is wiping the mist as you attempt to wave goodbye and get a good look at them for the last time. Still, it’s too late.

All that is left to do is gaze for a brief while at the vanishing landscape, registering absolutely nothing.

Finally, you tilt your head back and sigh at the biggest sigh ever. There is a distant echo of a Japanese woman’s voice coming from the bus radio. When you turn on your phone, the first thing you see is your camera folder.

It’s inexplicable why you thought it was necessary to take a picture of them with your phone while simultaneously taking one with theirs. You are left puzzled, staring at the most recent two pictures in your folder.

‘Love is a captured moment,’ you used to say. You get the impression that life is making fun of you.

It becomes really annoying to swipe between the two photos. Their boyfriend vibe is unmatched. Imagination takes over. It seems as though you have never desired anything more.

You carefully touch the screen to enlarge the images, capturing their faces with your fingertips. The attractive strangers in the photos are names you will never know.

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hippolotamus · 1 year ago

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Apparently I had one more in me. So, I present Part 3 (Buck's POV) of the cleopatra series (my 911 7x06 codas). This takes place just before Part 1.

my flesh it was my currency | 7x06 coda | 1k | E Part 1, Part 2

“Ohgodohgodohgodohfuck!” Buck babbles, clawing at the bed sheets, panting and gasping, his words slurring and blending even further into a single high-pitched incoherent whine. He’s on that desperate edge, so close to tipping over, all he needs is a little push.

“Christ, Evan.” Tommy adjusts, reaching forward to stroke Buck’s cock in time with each thrust.

After a grueling shift of fighting wildfires, Buck doesn’t even know how Tommy is still standing let alone fucking him into the mattress like it’s his job. It takes three pumps at most before Buck’s vision whites out and he’s clenching around Tommy, starlight and fire and lightning coursing through his veins.

The next thing he knows he’s being gingerly rolled on his side. He doesn’t know which direction he’s facing, is barely conscious enough to open his eyelids more than a fraction of an inch. He clumsily paws in front of him until he’s wrapped around his partner’s torso, one leg slung over Tommy’s thigh.

They haven’t actually defined what they are and Buck finds himself too nervous to ask after blurting out the invitation to Maddie’s wedding. (Thankfully one of the less embarrassing phrases to impulsively leave his mouth.) Regardless, he and Tommy are still getting to know each other, and the idea of coming off as too much, of losing this (again) before it really begins, is terrifying on a different level than he’s experienced in the past.

He nuzzles into sweat slick skin, simultaneously fighting the urge to back away because too many people have labeled him clingy after sex. Not that Tommy’s made him feel that way. Far from it. He hasn’t given Buck the impression that clinging like an affectionate octopus is anything other than normal and appreciated. In fact, he regularly seems to pull Buck closer, inviting him into sharing personal space. But old habits tend to die hard.

“This okay?” Buck murmurs.

“Mmm? Is what okay?”

“Um, cuddling.” Buck feels his cheeks heat, flustered that his insecurities make him want to check in.

The length of Tommy’s body seems to stiffen against Buck and – oh no – he can’t have messed up that badly.

“Evan.” Tommy lightly sweeps his thumb over Buck’s birthmark before tilting his chin, coaxing him to look up. “Look at me.”

Buck complies easily, following the soothing command, meeting bright blue eyes that he’s sure he could stare into for hours.

“Of course it’s okay. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clearer before.”

“No, it’s not you. It’s not that. It’s- this is probably gonna sound really dumb.” Tommy arches one eyebrow, as if challenging Buck to say anything worse than he did on their first date. It’s enough to ease the tension and make Buck smile. “In the past, people have made it seem more like an imposition or obligation. Like once the actual, y’know, sex part was done that the touching was, too. Sometimes – a lot of the time – I felt like that’s all anyone really wanted. Like they didn’t actually want…. me. Just something I could do for them. Like I said, it’s- it’s dumb.”

“It’s not, though.” Tommy counters, beginning to trace random patterns on Buck’s back, using just enough pressure so it isn’t ticklish. “Even though it very much can be, sex shouldn’t be transactional. Unless there’s money changing hands. Well, not really even then- the point is that it shouldn’t feel that way. It’s perfectly normal to want intimacy and closeness. I mean, I certainly do.”

“Yeah?”

Tommy gives him a lopsided smile that never fails to make him feel like a swarm of butterflies have come to life in his belly. “Hopefully I have made it clear that I don’t do casual. I may be a bit older, and not racking up phone numbers or dates quite like I used to, but I promise you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you to be.” He joins their hands, interlacing their fingers and seems to search Buck’s face. Similar to the charged, nervous, hope filled moments after their first kiss. Just like then, Buck wants Tommy to find what he’s looking for. “Can you trust that, Evan?”

The ‘can you trust me?’ goes unspoken, but Buck hears it anyway.

“Yeah,” Buck whispers. “I can. I can do that.”

“Good.” Tommy’s grin widens, and he scrunches his nose adorably as he leans forward to capture Buck’s mouth in a kiss. It’s slow and languid, but still has his heart fluttering and skipping a few beats.

They wind themselves further together as they continue kissing, creating a cocoon that makes him feel safe and comfortable. Maybe even a little bit wrapped in something that’s far too early to name. Whatever it is, Buck likes it. Likes the way he feels emboldened to take more, attempting to press their bodies even closer despite the clear disagreement from the laws of physics.

“We should try to get some sleep,” Tommy says, smirking when Buck chases his lips. “It’s been a long-” He pauses, glancing towards the golden gray light creeping into the room. “Night, apparently.”

“Oh, shit. Didn’t realize it was so late. Early?” Buck giggles, suddenly recognizing how physically and mentally exhausting the last forty-eight hours have been. “Seriously, how are you even awake right now?”

“Well, rumor has it I’m a beast.”

Buck ducks his head, blushing as a thrilling jolt runs up his spine at the memory.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Tommy warns, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Sleep.”

“Sleep,” Buck agrees. He studies Tommy’s features for a moment longer, wanting to capture one last glance before he gives in. He wonders if the kaleidoscope of joy, awe, excitement and optimism that’s been building, painting every moment since an apology and incorrect coffee order, transfers to his skin with the same intensity. If Tommy can see the effect he has on Buck with this new facet of himself that’s been opened up. He hopes so.

“Not late. Right on time,” he sighs, turning in Tommy’s arms, situating himself as the little spoon and finally submitting to an easy, peaceful slumber.

#911 spoilers #hippo writes #911 7x06 #coda fic #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy ficlet #tommy kinard #evan buckley #the cleopatra series #i swear i'm done now

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tsumtsumrry · 2 years ago

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Friends to lovers Harry styles? I was thinking Harry and the reader have been best friends for years with cute traditions like coffee on certain days or book clubs. Overall they know each other inside out and spend a lot of time together. There’s some tension bc harry is very obviously in love with the reader however she’s the only one who doesn’t see it. Despite the fact she feels the same she’s scared because she doesn’t believe he could feels the same. Maybe it could get a little angsty but with a happy ending pls! Thank you!

thank you very much for the request!! anyone who knows me knows that friends to lovers is my jam, so this was very very fun to write. hope you enjoy <3 (barely proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes!)

“Well have you tried unplugging it and plugging it back in?” Harry suggests as you two sit inside the pillow fort you made, two glasses of wine sitting next to your knees and the sight of your small TV bugging out in front of you.

You pout at your dilemma. It’s been a tradition since you two were kids to have a little quiet movie night in a cozy pillow fort. It’s not the first time your TV has been acting up recently and Harry keeps offering to buy you a new one but you always refuse. He’s too giving, that one. But god, do you admire him for it.

“Tried that before you came, H. S’no use. Time for plan B.” you sigh at go to get up carefully to go retrieve your computer and a stool from your room.

Harry watches you with fond eyes as you go, the sparkle in his eyes that only appears when he’s looking at you evident (to everyone but you, that is). He’s almost a hundred percent sure you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, the hue of your eyes melts him, the brightness of your smile blinds him. You have the softest, most soothing aura he’s ever come across and he just wants to be with you all the time. He’s smiling like an idiot just thinking about you.

“Got the computer. What are we watching?” he jumps a little, startled out of his thoughts when you walk back into your cozy living room. He watches you intently as you calculatedly place the stool in front of the fort and the computer on top of it. He smiles fondly at you when you adjust it at least five times because “it has to be perfect” and opens his mouth to answer your question, “what are we watching?”

You carefully sit right back down next to him and after a small beat of silence you both turn to look at each other at exactly the same time and simultaneously blurt out, “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days!”

“Twin flame telepathy back at it again.” he pumps his fist in the air and pulls it back while you giggle.

It doesn’t take long to set up the movie and before you know it, you’re halfway through it, cuddled up into Harry’s side with his arm snug tightly around you. You occasionally look up at him when you see something funny to see if he found it funny too, and he does the same, causing an intense bout of eye contact and laughter.

The warm hues of your fairy lights kiss his skin in a way that makes him almost glow with warmth, the green of his eyes is so intense in this light, it almost takes your breath away. Sometimes you wish time would stop so he could be as still as he is in this moment, and you could just look at him. Just admire how truly beautiful he is. The way his eyelashes flutter when he takes in the brightness of the images forms a small knot in your stomach. You feel your mouth part and it’s only when he looks down at you that you realize your staring might feel a little weird.

“What?” you watch his mouth form the softly spoken word. You don’t say anything so he smiles and tries again, “what?”

“Nothing, just daydreaming.” you reply softly with a small smile.

“Watch the movie, dude.” he scolds you playfully and you roll your eyes.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“So you think waffles are better than pancakes?” Harry asks one of your mutual friends, Jess incredulously. Jess nods and Harry’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “Are you kidding me? Pancakes are infinitely better than waffles. Who wants their breakfast to have craters in them, Jess? I mean c’mon. Tell them, babe. Pancakes are better.” He motions to you and your eyes widen, not wanting to get in between what is clearly such an important, heated discussion.

“Pancakes.” you finalize with a small laugh. Harry smacks his hand on the table in triumph and points at Jess, who rolls their eyes at his antics. “S’two against one. Can’t beat that. Them’s the rules, toots.”

You’re in a fit of giggles at this point, you’ve always loved the way he talked. He had this dry humor that utilized his unique vocabulary and it never failed to amuse you.

He turns to look at you, scooting closer and slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Can always count on you can’t I, honey?” he smirks and shrugs you closer to him to press a messy kiss on the side of your head.

You shudder violently and your hand immediately shoots up to wipe at your head, “ew, Harry!” you whine and he throws his head back to laugh.

Everyone is just staring at the two of you fondly, your bond is something unmatched. The pure passion that you two display when you look at each other is unlike anything most of your friends have seen before. Everyone can see the sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you. It’s lost on them how you can’t. They just wish you two would finally man up and come to terms with it.

He leans down way too close to your ear, his lips oh so faintly brushing against your skin, the laughter ceases almost immediately and it feels like time just stops.

“You know you love me, sweet girl.”

It takes everything in you not to let your body melt into his and flutter your eyes shut at the closeness and warmth of his touch. Even the faintest touch makes you nearly lose yourself, you can’t imagine what a real touch would do to you.

You pull yourself together enough to respond, “yes, yes unfortunately I do. Freaking man child.”

He laughs again and just hugs you closer.

H: Sweetheaaart. Where could you possibly be other than with me?

H: That rhymed.

H: Gonna pretend that it was intentional.

You: Lol you’ve got the wrong day, H. We’re meeting tomorrow x

H: Yes but I still would looovee to see you today.

You: I’ve got plaaans.

H: Spill.

Harry bites his lip nervously as he sends the message. He’s been talking to some mutual friends of yours and they’ve had the bright idea to set you up with someone this week. They’ve been trying to push Harry to make a move on you for years and he hasn’t. Your friends say you’ve been complaining about feeling lonely in the romantic department and of course they took it upon themselves to “help”.

He hoped that if he sought out plans with you, you’d forget about whatever silly “date” they’ve asked you to go on.

You: A date I think. Can I call it a date?

He sighs deeply, his whole body deflating.

H: Why wouldn’t you call it a date?

You: I don’t know the guy and it just doesn’t feel right you know?”

Immediately you see his face flash on your screen and feel the phone vibrating in your hands. Your brow furrows but you press the accept button and bring the phone up to your ear.

“Don’t go.” is the first thing he says, his tone almost pleading. “If it doesn’t feel right, don’t go. You can come over to mine, we can do face masks or something. Just don’t go.”

You sigh, seriously considering his offer, “but don’t you think I owe to myself, H? I feel like I never put myself out there you know. It’s time I’ve tried. Can’t wait around forever.” You mumble that last part, slightly turning your mouth away from the speaker.

“What? N-nevermind. You said it didn’t feel right though.” he tries again, praying that a little coaxing can get you to not go on that date. He swears he’ll confess his feelings to you right now if that’s what it takes. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if that date goes well and someone pulls the girl he’s so enamored with right from under him. He knows that if you start seeing someone things will be different, and you might tell him that they won’t be at first, but he knows they will. He absolutely cannot lose you. That’s one thing he refuses to do. Regardless of his fears.

“Doesn’t hurt to try, right?” You almost wish he would tell you not to go again. You so desperately wish he would tell you what you want to hear. At no point before this phone call did you plan or think about making him jealous or upset at the idea of you seeing someone else, but the tortured thought is crossing your mind now. And you just wish that he’d say what you need to hear to get you to not go on that date. Your nails are digging into your palms as you anticipate his response, the tension building in your muscles.

His mouth opens and closes. He has all the words in his head, but they hesitate to come out.

A beat passes.

You hear him sigh and you know he’s not going to tell you what you need to hear.

So so close. He was so close to saying everything that needed to be out in the open for both of you, but he chickened out.

“Right. Go for it, babe. Hope all goes well.” he forces a cheerful tone, one that he even cringes at, and usually, you know him better than that, but the tears are pooling in your eyes and threatening to fall down your cheeks; you don’t want to mess up the makeup that you’ve just done.

“Thanks, H.” Your voice wobbles the slightest bit. Usually he knows you better, but the tears are pooling and threatening to fall down his cheeks. He presses his fingers into his palm and hangs up.

He just stands there for a moment, a lone tear falls down his face and he immediately wipes it away, you’re too pure and precious to be the reason for his pain. He wishes he could just tell you.

He’s been dodging you.

You basically know his entire schedule, and you know that he’s been dodging you.

You sigh softly as another call goes unanswered. Your heart is aching from missing your twin flame.

The date went well, surprisingly. The guy was kind and thoughtful, he pulled your chair out for you and said all the right things, he was a great conversationalist, he was attractive. He basically checked all the boxes. Except for one. He wasn’t Harry. And you weren’t deeply in love with him. You should’ve listened to Harry that night, honestly. There’s only one person you want to be with.

You almost want to turn around after you knock on his door. You felt stupid, like you were coming here to make a fool of yourself.

The door swings open and you sigh a breath of relief.

“Harry.” you sigh, “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

He nods and opens the door wider to let you in. Your arms wrap around yourself protectively in a way that they never have around him when you step inside. He notices instantly.

That’s his breaking point. The idea that that comfort you feel in each other is being challenged by his inability to just tell you how he feels.

He walks towards you slowly. When he’s in front of you, his hand reaches up to touch your cheek softly and you frown in confusion, “why have you been avoiding me?” you whisper, not trusting your voice when he’s touching you.

He shakes his head, “I’ve been avoiding a lot of things, you weren’t one of them, though.”

Your frown deepens even more, “H. What in the world are you talk—” when you realize how close he’s suddenly become, your talking ceases. He leans in further, faintly brushing his lips against yours, using his grip on your cheek to angle you in the perfect way.

“I’ve been avoiding my feelings. My feelings for you. These intense feelings that have been just utterly consuming me lately. These feelings that I think have been there since we were kids. It’s always, always been you, babe.” he leans down one more inch, and his lips are on yours.

Soft and delicate, but so full of passion that it overwhelms you.

He kisses you softly again, first your top lip and then your bottom lip, then leaves one more soft peck on both.

When you pull away you’re at a loss for words. You take this moment to look at him. To really look at him and just admire. A smile makes its way onto your face that you couldn’t have possibly fought even if you tried.

“What?” he chuckles softly, stroking his thumb against your cheek and lips.

“Nothing you just, you have this sparkle in your eyes that I’ve never noticed before. It’s beautiful.” Neither of you can stop your lips from meeting again.

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #friends to lovers #new

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mbruben-stein · 3 months ago

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Hello! Thank you again for being willing to write for Dragon Age Veilguard! Could you please write something about Emmrich, Lucanis, Davrin and Bellara (or all of the companions if you're feeling up to it) dating a reader who has the personality of a Shonen anime protagonist? So they're super strong and very formidable in combat, but also very friendly and enthusiastic while still being very protective of their friends? They may be a little reckless in combat, always charging in on the front lines to deal as much damage as possible, but that really just means more cute healing scenes with their love interest fussing over them. Bonus points if they really like to eat and are always trying to save everyone within 20 feet of them, like their care extends to basically everyone who isn’t a bad guy. Thank you! I hope your day is going well, take care of yourself!

Dragon Age Veilguard Characters dating s/o who is a Shonen anime protagonist would include.

@diabolicaltwink

A/N: I am so so happy that you requested this. It means a lot to me. So for your enjoyment and to make you smile and as well makes your day even better, here is the request you asked for lovely. Let me know what you think after you're done reading this. 😊

~Emmrich~

Emmrich finds his S/O's boundless energy and enthusiasm endearing, if a bit exasperating at times. He's used to the solemn, focused nature of his Mourn Watch colleagues, so his S/O's vibrancy is a welcome change of pace. Their bright personality never fails to bring a smile to his face.

As a skilled necromancer and scholar, Emmrich is accustomed to standing back and analyzing situations carefully. Meanwhile, his S/O is always the first to charge headlong into battle. Emmrich has had to adjust to their reckless fighting style, and often finds himself patching up their injuries afterwards while gently chiding them to be more careful.

His S/O's selfless, protective nature resonates with Emmrich's own strong moral code and desire to protect the innocent from dark forces. He greatly admires their drive to help anyone in need. Though he cautions them against spreading themselves too thin, he supports their heroic efforts.

Mealtimes with his S/O are lively affairs, with the protagonist eagerly devouring everything in sight while recounting their latest adventures. Emmrich is amazed they can talk and eat so much simultaneously. He enjoys their stories and makes sure there are always ample leftovers packed for his S/O's next mission.

When his S/O is injured, Emmrich personally tends to their wounds, his normally professorial demeanor giving way to open tenderness and concern. The protagonist assures him they're fine, but secretly enjoys being fussed over. These intimate moments bring them closer.

His S/O is endlessly fascinated by Emmrich's necromantic abilities and peppers him with enthusiastic questions. Used to people being unnerved by his powers, Emmrich is pleasantly surprised by their interest. He's happy to indulge their curiosity.

The outgoing protagonist encourages introverted Emmrich to socialize more. They drag him on double dates and group outings with their many friends and allies. Though initially hesitant, Emmrich ends up appreciating the camaraderie.

When his S/O is feeling down, Emmrich knows just what to do - he prepares a cozy night in with hot cocoa, fuzzy blankets, and lots of cuddles. His soothing presence and comforting embrace always lifts their spirits. Simply being together puts them at ease.

~Lucanis~

S/O is always rushing into battles to protect the innocent, which both impresses and slightly exasperates Lucanis. He admires their bravery and noble heart, but wishes they'd be a bit more cautious sometimes.

After particularly rough fights, Lucanis personally tends to S/O's wounds, gently bandaging them up while scolding them for being so reckless. S/O just grins and says "I knew you'd patch me up!" Much blushing ensues.

S/O's bottomless appetite and enthusiasm for food amuses Lucanis. He starts learning to cook their favorite dishes to surprise them with after a long day of heroing. Seeing S/O's delighted face makes the effort worth it.

Lucanis is touched by how S/O manages to extend compassion and kindness to almost everyone they meet. It's a foreign concept for an assassin, but S/O's warmth slowly softens Lucanis' pragmatic heart.

When S/O boldly declares they'll defeat the bad guys and protect their friends no matter what, Lucanis can't help but smile at their pure determination. He thinks S/O shines brighter than the sun.

In quiet moments, S/O rambles endearingly about all their friends and allies, making sure Lucanis knows he's an irreplaceable part of their treasured group now. For someone used to living in the shadows, Lucanis is moved to be so openly valued and cared for.

S/O helps Lucanis learn the joys in living beyond just duty and pragmatism. Their infectious love of life, unbreakable loyal bonds, and endless optimism is like a healing light to Lucanis' worn and jaded soul. With S/O by his side, even an assassin starts to believe in things like hope, friendship and happiness.

~Davrin~

Davrin is impressed by his s/o's incredible combat skills and strength. He loves watching them charge into battle fearlessly, taking on hordes of enemies. Though he does worry about their reckless streak and tendency to get injured.

After fights, Davrin always fusses over his s/o, patching up their wounds while gently scolding them to be more careful. His s/o just grins apologetically. Davrin sighs but can't help smiling at their enthusiasm.

Davrin's s/o has a huge appetite and is always excited to try the hearty stews and roasted meats popular among the Dalish. Davrin loves cooking for them and seeing their eyes light up at each new dish.

His s/o befriends everyone they meet, from random travelers to Davrin's stern fellow Grey Wardens. Davrin is amazed by their ability to bring light and laughter everywhere they go.

In quieter moments, Davrin's s/o likes hearing stories of Dalish lore and legend. They listen with rapt attention as Davrin recounts the tales of his people under the stars.

Davrin's protective instincts often have him rushing in after his s/o when they dash off to save someone in need. Fighting back-to-back, the two make an unstoppable team.

For all their strength, Davrin's s/o has an endearingly soft side. He adores how they coo over cute animals and tear up at emotional scenes in stories.

No matter what dangers they face, Davrin and his bright, brave hero s/o always have each other's backs - a perfect adventure partnership built on deep trust, affection, and mutual respect.

~Bellara~

Bellara would be equal parts exasperated and enamored by her partner's reckless enthusiasm for charging headfirst into battle. She'd scold them for not being more cautious, but secretly find their bravery and protective instincts endearing.

After battles, Bellara would fuss over patching up her partner's frequent scrapes and bruises, chiding them gently as she tenderly heals their wounds with magic. Her partner would just grin sheepishly.

Bellara's scholarly interests in ancient elven lore and artifacts would fascinate her partner. They'd listen raptly as she explains her research, even if a lot of it goes over their head. They admire her brilliant mind.

Her partner's ravenous appetite would amuse Bellara. She'd make sure to always pack extra rations and treats when they travel together, knowing her partner will inevitably get hungry. She finds their enthusiasm for food cute.

Bellara would be touched by how her partner goes out of their way to help and befriend everyone they meet. Their open, caring heart is one of the things she loves most about them, even if their naivete sometimes gets them in trouble.

When Bellara gets consumed by her research and starts neglecting self-care, her partner is always there to coax her into taking breaks for meals, rest, and time together. They look out for each other.

In quiet moments, Bellara would open up to her partner about her past heartbreaks and losses. They'd comfort her with their steady presence and remind her she's not alone anymore. She can be vulnerable with them in a way she can't with anyone else.

Bellara's fighting style relies on magic, agility and cleverness. It would complement her partner's more straightforward power-based combat style well. They'd make a formidable team, with her partner drawing enemies' attention while she strikes decisively from the flanks.

#Dragon Age Veilguard #Dragon Age Veilguard headcanons #Dragon Age Veilguard x reader #Headcanons #x reader #Emmrich #Emmrich x reader #Emmrich headcanons #Lucanis #Lucanis x reader #Lucanis headcanons #Davrin #Davrin x reader #Davrin headcanons #Bellara #Bellara x reader #Bellara headcanons

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abitohoney · 2 years ago

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So after a recent Big Move™️, I’ve finally gotten my household goods delivered to my new home. WOOT WOOT.

And as I pulled out some baking/muffin pans, I thought

Damn. I’d like to think I’d be rough and tough and a “don’t look at me wrong or I’ll punt your ass over a high-rise” sort of girl boss in the Arcane world.

But realistically all I want is to bake some treats for Sev and Ran. Make sure they’re eating good. Dust off and adjust their collar before they head out on a mission/task or to a meeting or whatever. Pack them little snacks or lunchboxes. Pretend to not be fussy over them since I also have my own work but actually unintentionally show ✨affection✨. Give them a goodbye kith. Be a lil Susie-homemaker in denial.

Also this moonshine is kind of hitting hard send help

OMG congrats on the big move! I still remember my first big move! Exciting (and exhausting)! Hopefully you're past the exhausting part and slipping into chill mode.

Hard same on thinking I'd be a kick ass girl boss in Arcane but really just wanna be Sev and Ran's little Honey homemaker. 🤓

Some silly, cute, fluffy thoughts inspired by this below the cut. SFW believe it or not.

Fussing over them and packing them lil snacks and lunches sounds like a dream! 🤩 Gosh, just imagine packing them both a little paper sack lunch for the first time. They just give you a look like "Seriously? What am I, 8?" Meanwhile you're just smiling at them adoringly.

Maybe they both sit with the rest of Silco's cronies come lunch time. They're already feeling ridiculous carrying they're matching paper sack lunches, but they're just assuming it's gonna be some lame old bologna sandwiches and stale leftover chips from the last Jericho's dinner.

They simultaneously open their bags to pull out not just any old sandwich, rather it's the freshest looking bread they've ever seen, holding equally fresh greens, meats, and cheeses. And best worst of all, you'd used cookie cutters to cut them into heart shapes. Sevika and Ran exchange glances, brows raised. They both set the sandwiches down, behind their bags, hoping to hide them from the rest of the gang, only to pull out more incriminating lunchables. Several slices of pineapple, cut into disgustingly cute little stars. Then comes the veggies, cause of course you made sure their lunches were a complete balance of nutrition. Chubby little baby carrots arranged on a thick homemade hummus in a flower design. One little cherry tomato decorates the center.

The coup de grâce to their humiliation? Custom, tiny cupcakes decorated in bright pink, red, and purple icing and bedazzled with heart shaped sprinkles of the same colors.

Another exchange of glances, cheeks flushed, then eyes averted downward. Neither dare make eye contact with anyone else at the table. Not that any of them would dare to even so much as snicker at Silco's second in command or top assassin. Not if they valued their life.

So Sevika and Ran consume their entirely too cute lunch in silence. It's an uncomfortable one, but deep down, beneath those hard exteriors, their hearts swell with pride and joy. They have someone like you- who cares so much- to so lovingly select, create, and craft the sweetest of lunches. And just for them. ♥️

Sending help ASAP! (It's just me in a box with holes so I can 'help' you finish off that moonshine)

Also, every time you send me something ISTG I get such a strong itch to write my poly Sev x Reader x Ran fic. I will some day. (Still anxiously patiently waiting for your writing too! <3)

#arcane #sevika #Ran #sevika x reader #ran x reader #arcane sevika #arcane ran #arcane sevika x reader #arcane ran x reader #honey writes #honey answers #greatermaguro #greatest maguro #😁

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firstclassattorney · 6 months ago

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Rockstar and Attorney, Klavier and Kristoph

Small fic for Kristoph and Klavier! If you could call it that? It's 1.4k words, lmao.

Klavier feels unsure of his skills and whether or not the path he chose was the right one. Not knowing who else to turn to, he calls Kristoph in the middle of the night.

Hurt/comfort except the comfort is temporary. (If any of you make incestuous comments I WILL block y'all. ew.)

umm @jaydovekj you might be interested in this?!?!?!

It wasn't often that my sleep was interrupted before the sun had risen.

The loud ring of my cellphone from the counter jolted me awake. Groggily, I opened my eyes, a wave of frustration washing over me. Who calls a man at this hour? A high-end defense attorney needs his rest. But, well... he also has to consider that random calls in the middle of the night might be emergencies.

As I switched on my phone, the sudden light felt like it'd blind me. I winced and set it down momentarily, reaching for a neatly folded cloth to wipe the lenses of my glasses before putting them on. When I checked the screen again, my vision adjusted to the brightness, revealing the name of the contact: "Klavier." Expected, really; Klavier was the only one bold enough to disturb my beauty sleep. Still, I was a bit surprised.

I hastily answered, stifling a yawn. "Good morning to you, too, Klavier."

"Ach, I'm sorry for waking you, Kris. I didn't know who else to call."

"Is it another song idea you want to share?"

His laugh was dry, humorless, and a bit pathetic. A sound so pitiful it almost made me want to kick him. "Nein, it's a bit silly. I'm not sure why I called."

"Silly?" I echoed, hoping he'd elaborate.

"I'm just questioning a few things. Nothing I can't handle, but... we all have those moments, you understand, ja?"

We all have those moments. How odd. I never quite understood why some people struggled so much with their own minds, why they couldn’t simply snap out of it and see how ridiculous they were being. Klavier- and people in general- were always different from me. It baffled me to no end, a reminder that they were simply too human while I was perfect.

"Anyway, I'm sorry for interrupting you. I know you've been busy and--"

"Klavier." I cut him off before I could stop myself. "Do you want me to come over?"

"...It's too much work. It's late for both of us."

"Answer my question."

A beat of silence passed. "Are you sure?"

"Do I seem like the type to joke about this?"

Another pause. Maybe he realized how ridiculous he sounded, or perhaps the gears in his head were turning. Just as I was about to speak again, he finally responded.

"No, well..." As if remembering he was Klavier Gavin, he corrected, "Nein, you don't. You're right."

"Then I'll come over as soon as I can."

"Okay. Danke, Kris."

I hung up first and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I wanted to leave the topic alone, trust in his ability to "get over it", but he sounded so sorrow-filled I couldn't help myself. Klavier was like a stray puppy when he was sad, so beaten up and so so pathetic you simultaneously want to care for it and crush it between your palms mercilessly. Alas, it's my job as his elder brother to support him despite my own feelings.

..........

I couldn’t believe it. It felt surreal, getting dressed in the middle of the night to comfort my brother. I didn’t spend much time on my appearance; when Klavier visited, our meaningful conversations always happened in the dark, and I doubted tonight would be any different. Still, I wanted to maintain some sense of dignity as I drove there.

The road stretched longer than usual, or at least it felt that way to my tired mind. I tried to push away thoughts about the ridiculous scenario I was in; each time I did, I couldn’t help but think how I probably looked like a lemur with these dark circles under my eyes. Unfortunately, I was my own worst critic.

When I arrived, I knocked twice. The door creaked open, revealing Klavier with a weak smile on his face. It was a poor attempt at reassuring he was okay, given the redness around his eyes and the smudged mascara. I kept any emotions or judgement away from my expression, a skill I’d mastered over the years. Unlike a certain blond man in front of me.

“Ach, where are my manners? It must be freezing out there. Come in.”

I nodded and stepped inside. As expected, the room was dim, lit only by a flickering candle. I never questioned why we always spoke about personal issues in the dark, though sometimes I wondered if it made it easier to connect.

The first time it happened, I had awoken for a glass of water and found Klavier wide awake. We ended up talking until dawn. I never understood how he found the courage to share so much when he usually insisted he was fine. Perhaps, in the shadows, we lost our roles as Klavier and Kristoph, becoming just brothers- free from distance and formalities, able to talk openly when our faces were obscured by darkness.

“Kris?”

I snapped out of my daze. “Sorry. We shouldn’t waste time. What were you questioning earlier?”

“It’s… ridiculous, ja. I’ve been worrying. Wondering if this is the right path.”

My brow furrowed in confusion, but luckily, he couldn’t see it. It *was* ridiculous- he had no reason to doubt himself. I had taught him everything he needed to know; he was more than capable.

“I just…” He sighed, “There’s so much to do, and I have to keep smiling for the paparazzi. It gets overwhelming. You know that feeling, too, richtig?”

“I do." I confirmed, knowing he couldn’t see my nod. “But it’s not about skill. No matter how good you are, mistakes will happen.”

“I know, but sometimes I wish I could avoid them. Like- Like you! You always keep your cool, bruder, and I don’t know how you do it.”

I fell silent, not wanting to crush his spirit. Achieving my level of calmness was impossible for him. Klavier wore his heart on his sleeve, his emotions spilling into his voice and face. He would never be like me, no matter how hard he tried. It was a difficult pill to swallow... for both of us.

“…Klavier, you can’t be like me. Even if we share the same appearance and last name, we’re still Klavier and Kristoph- two different people.”

“Ja, but-”

“Let me finish, please.”

He shrank slightly, like a child. “Okay.”

“The thing is, I might seem put-together, but I have my moments of frustration, stress, sadness… that doesn’t make me any less capable. The same goes for you.”

I took a step closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. I could see doubt and uncertainty swirling in his eyes, and paired with his posture, it made him look like a child again. He’d always clung to me when we were young, asking me why the world was the way it was. I never had an answer, just the reassurance that we had to live in it, and somehow, that was enough for him.

“Klavier, you’re doing great. I’m proud of you. Whatever doubts you have are normal, but don’t let them make you falter.”

I didn’t know if I truly meant those words, but I knew they could provide comfort. I understood that he wanted nothing more than to make me proud and live up to my standards. I wasn’t a fool.

Klavier sniffed and wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. He smiled genuinely- a first for this night- and nodded his head. To stop him from further pestering me with concerns, I hugged him. It caught him off-guard, certainly, but eventually he relaxed and hugged me back.

"...You're much more affectionate today, Kris. I think you're going soft, ja." He chuckled. I felt like he could almost sense me hiding an eye roll. "But... thank you."

We sat there in silence for a few moments. It felt right. As most times of tranquility do, the hug ended and I let my arms fall to my side. Klavier copied.

"Ach." He suddenly spoke up. "I just realized how late it is. Do you want to stay at mine tonight?"

"For once, I'll take you up on your offer."

"I could get you a plush if you're lonely. Do you remember that bear I had when I was-?"

"Don't push it, Klavier, or I might regret my decision..."

For the first time in a while, I smiled as well. Perhaps taking a break from being 'The coolest defense in the west' more often would do me good.

#🕯 mod speaks !

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peppered-moths · 1 year ago

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all roads lead back to you (even the ones i took to forget)

"Can you keep a secret?" Scott asks.

He's standing in front of the Secret Keeper, a monolith of stone and silence, eyes glowing with reflected starlight. His lips curl in a soft smile, simultaneously distant and inviting and just a little bit teasing. He looks like a memory long forgotten.

Jimmy doesn't think he can breathe. The aching familiarity presses behind his eyes, digs between his bones, where he'd thought he'd buried it. If he squeezes his eyes shut, he thinks, he could imagine that the loam beneath his feet is blooming. He can feel petals in his hair.

"Yeah," he manages, finally, trying to ignore the way his voice rasps, raw desperation scraping his throat. Tell me anything. Anything at all, as long as it's us. Scott smiles wider, one hand reaching up to adjust the poppy crown atop his head. Jimmy remembers weaving the stems together, fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as the winter chill bit at him (Dogwarts had always been a good place to find poppies, funnily enough), and the crown had ended up lopsided. He remembers the warmth of embarrassment in his cheeks as he presented it to Scott, expecting kindly mocking laughter, only to blink at his sudden grin. He doesn't think Scott had taken it off since.

"I think I'm still in love with you." If he had thought he was breathless before, it's nothing compared to now, as a little, crushed sound punches its way out of his chest. It's too much and not enough, all at once. He's not sure how he's denied himself this for so long, especially since it's been right at his fingertips the whole time. He's choking on the words, saccharine, honey-sweet.

"Say it back." Scott's smile turns sharp. Jimmy opens his mouth. He wants to, feels the words in the way his ribs curl over his chest, caging his rebelling heart. I know, he wants to say, I know I want this, and I know I'm not supposed to. I know I've denied this for so long. I know I've hurt you, I've had your blood in my mouth and I liked the taste, but I don't want to anymore. I know I shouldn't feel this and I know I feel it anyways.

I know that I'm in love with you too.

The words stick in his throat. The words stick in his throat, and he bites his tongue, hard enough to draw blood. He's struck mute, caged in by an invisible force pressing down on his chest. And all the while, Scott stands there, eyes bright and knowing, with fingers like claws as he curls them around Jimmy's chin to tilt his head upwards. When did he get so close?

"You can't say it, can you?" Scott practically sneers, an edge to his voice that borders on vindictive. "Because you're a coward, isn't that right? Or maybe," and his voice drops, low enough that he has to strain to hear it, "maybe you never even loved me at all. Maybe it was all a means to an end to you, watching me trail after you, helpless, hopeless."

No, he wants to argue, no, that's not it, I just- but he wouldn't know what to say even if he could say it. Maybe that's the worst part; the not knowing. Why does anybody love anybody? Why does anybody leave anybody?

Scott has a crown of poppies and eyes full of stars, and he is an unattainable wish just out of Jimmy's reach, because he's too scared to reach out and get burned-

Wait.

Something isn't right. This isn't right.

Scott doesn't wear poppies anymore. Hasn't, since Third Life. The sky is too bright, the air too thin. He can't feel Scott's hands on his face.

The man tilts his head, a lock of blue hair falling into his face. "I'm the closest you'll ever get to the real thing, darling."

Jimmy sits bolt upright, hands clutching at the sheets of his bed. A dream. How cliché. It doesn't make it feel any less real, though. It doesn't stop the crushing weight in his chest. It doesn't stop him mouthing the words he couldn't say. I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou-

It doesn't stop them leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, from causing him to curl in on himself and think, maybe I'm not cut out for this.

A flash of red catches his eye, and he nearly gives himself whiplash with how quickly he turns to look.

It's... a poppy. Because of course it is. Jimmy vaguely remembers picking it up when he was wandering aimlessly, nearly second nature. Now it's lying on top of one of his chests, inadvertently making his heart beat faster. Jimmy swallows. Because you're a coward, isn't that right?

Love you! Scott- the real Scott- had called, waving a cheery goodbye. Jimmy had stopped dead, waiting. Waiting for the hunger, the burning, barely-disguised desperation of Limited Life. He had been waiting for Scott to beg.

And then, he hadn't. He'd just smiled- casual, not soft or deadly, not anything at all. He'd smiled, and he'd left, leaving Jimmy in a half-daze, with nothing to say back, not even the poor excuse of thirty minutes.

He wonders, if he dreamt for long enough, if he'd find the right words to say to him. A mix between I love you and I'm sorry and everything but silence. Anything but damning silence.

He's not sure he wants to know, he realizes, as he bends down to examine the flower. It's just beginning to wilt, the edges of the petals wrinkling. One dislodges itself and floats on the slight breeze. Jimmy follows it with his eyes, far too fond for something as simple as this.

He doesn't want to just dream it.

He picks up the poppy, gently, as another petal drifts to the floor. "It's a start," he says quietly, feeling the wry smile quirking at his lips. For old times' sake, he imagines he'll claim, and maybe Scott will smile, bright green eyes accented by the smudged blue eyeliner he's taken to wearing. Thank you, he might say, too raw, too earnest, or I thought I was the sentimental one? And Jimmy will laugh, and Scott will grab his wrist and tell him to stick around a little longer, just to catch up.

And maybe, just maybe, it'll be forgiveness.

#oops! all dream sequence #local aromantic writes romance again; is not sorry #life series #secret life #secret life smp #flower husbands #smajor1995 #solidaritygaming #fic #does jimmy even have a house? idfk

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hao-and-yoh · 2 months ago

Text

Shaman King - “Fractured Duality” - “Alt” Universe

Continued from here.

Episode Eleven (5)

“So that was a little different. It was actually kinda nice, hah.” chuckled Yoh as he adjusted his backpack straps.

“What was?” came the disgruntled reply of the Chinese shaman.

“You know, actually landing safely and collecting our stuff — like “normal” people.” laughed the younger Asakura brother.

“Who wants to be normal? Sounds boring.” replied the elder twin with a slight amused grin.

The twins let out a mirrored laugh before beaming an identical smile at each other.

Ren rolled his eyes and huffed in response to the sickening familiarity the pair had with one another. But after considering their words for a moment, something occurred to him,

“Wait a minute, I thought you said that you didn’t make it this far in “your world” - and the Shaman Fight was called off?”

Yoh felt a pang in his chest as he realised his loose lips had accidentally backed them both into a corner.

“Well uh –” awkwardly began Yoh.

“It’s like we told you,” interjected Hao, “Yoh and I have experienced a shift in time and reality, just like you. In our old world - we travelled to the US on the Patch aircraft, they threw us out - and the next thing we know, we were back where we started.”

Hao forced a candid smile at Tao Ren, but when he was met with a cold and distrusting look in response, he quickly realised his attempt to create a sense of mutual understanding with him without bending the truth too much was impossible.

“Threw you out? Like - from the sky?!” loudly questioned the small human in their group. Manta’s eyes widened as Ren began to tell him the bizarre circumstances of his last experience travelling to US soil.

“Phew, nice save Nii-chan.” silently thought Yoh, letting out a soft audible sigh as he met his twin’s reassuring gaze.

Hao smiled softly in response to hearing his brother’s relieved voice. Though the small odd detail that Yoh’s lips had not moved along to his words did not seem to occur to him.

The colourful group of five continued their on-foot journey into the streets of Denver – observing the neighbouring shops and amenities as they began to open their doors for business. Yoh and Hao’s thoughts simultaneously turned to the missing member of their party, who had ran ahead with an excitable declaration he was going to “scout the area” for more Shaman Fight contestants. The twins were certain his search would be fruitless, but they were both becoming acutely aware that their new world was full of unexpected surprises.

“So uh…” mumbled Manta, “How did you find the Village last time, Ren?”

“A series of careless nonsensical poor decision making and a lot of luck.” replied Ren, bluntly.

Manta laughed awkwardly before letting out an anxious exhale in response to Ren’s cold and blunt words.

“Well - we don’t need luck this time!” gleefully chirped in Yoh. “Ren knows where we need to go next, right Ren?”

“We’re beginning from a completely different starting point. I’ll need time to gather my bearings.” replied Tao Ren with a notable hint of agitation.

Yoh laughed awkwardly in response,

“Well in that case, we might as well look around - you never know who we might bump in-”

“Hey guys! Look who I found!” came the loud and ecstatic voice of the ice shaman.

The group unanimously turned towards the direction the happy voice of their friend came from. Hao’s blood ran cold when he immediately recognised the young boy dressed in bright green attire to match his illuminous green hair style coming towards them. “Oh shit.”

“This should be interesting.”

For their own individual reasons, the group all shared a mutual feeling of uncertainty as HoroHoro beamed a goofy smile at them as he dragged the boy towards them by the wrist.

“This is that British kid I was telling you about - Lionel!” delightfully yelled HoroHoro as he and the other boy reached the group.

Hao and Yoh exchanged a worried glance with one another and they held their breaths, bracing themselves for another intense encounter.

Hao even momentarily considered summoning his Spirit Ally for protection.

The young boy chuckled sheepishly at the others as he tried to politely shake his hand free from HoroHoro’s grasp.

“My name is actually Lyserg Diethel.” said the softly spoken young man. He then beamed a friendly smile at the group. “It’s so great to finally find other Shaman Fight competitors. I should never have doubted my attuned dousing instincts - I knew more shaman were going to pass through here eventually!”

A short awkward silence grew. Ren and Jeanne shared a knowing unspoken exchange before Ren turned towards the familiar face in front of him. He then quickly caught on to the bizarre unfolding differing circumstances when he observed that not only was Lyserg familiar with his old team mate, he was also grossly unfamiliar with someone else in their group.

“You two… know each other?” muttered Ren, gesturing with just his eyes towards Lyserg and HoroHoro.

“That’s right - we met back in Japan!” happily replied HoroHoro. The look of unwavering confidence and smugness on HoroHoro’s face did not go unnoticed by the warrior shaman.

“I see.” murmured Ren as he began to intensely examine Lyserg from head to toe. He fixated his glare on the most obvious difference in his appearance - the forest-green deer stalker cap he was wearing on his head.

Lyserg shifted on his feet uncomfortably as Ren continued to intensely stare him down. Feeling somewhat anxious by the strange reception, his eyes drifted to the friendlier and warmer expressions of the two standing beside Ren.

“Are these those friends you told me about, HoroHoro?”

“Yeah! Asakura bros - meet Lionel.”

“Lyserg.” quietly muttered Lyserg as he politely outstretched his hand towards Yoh.

“Hi Lyserg, I’m Yoh.” breathed Yoh, relieved, as he grasped Lyserg’s hand firmly. “It’s… really really good to see you.”

Recognising Yoh’s overpowering welcoming energy as he shook his hand, Lyserg blinked back in surprise at the shaman he had just met.

“Oh, wow. I’ve never met a new friend so glad to see me before!” happily cried Lyserg, giving him a sweet smile.

Letting go of Lyserg’s firm hand shake, Yoh then turned to his twin standing silently beside him and gave him yet another reassuring smile before he took in a deep breath and breathed out the words,

“And this is my brother… Hao.”

Hao froze momentarily as he watched in amazement as the innocent face in front of him shined the exact same sweet and welcoming smile at him before also presenting him with his hand too.

“What a disgustingly sweet little amateur he turned out to be.”

“Uh… it’s nice to meet you, Lyserg.” quietly muttered Hao as he accepted Lyserg’s hand.

The twins could almost feel Ren’s eyes burning into their skulls as the odd exchange unfolded in front of them.

“And this is Manta, Ren and Jeanne.” went on HoroHoro, gesturing to each one of them as he did so.

“Hi!” greeted Manta, reaching up and shaking hands with the English shaman before Lyserg offered the same polite gesture to the only woman in their party.

Jeanne smiled sweetly at Lyserg and shook his hand happily.

“Lyserg. The smile on your face and the joy emanating from your soul really warms my heart.” softly cried Jeanne, her eyes glazing over slightly as she spoke.

“Oh… uh, thank you?” awkwardly replied Lyserg. “It’s… great to meet you too!”

Jeanne found herself holding on to Lyserg’s hand for a few moments longer than the average hand shake - making their exchange somewhat more awkward than the others. Lyserg blushed a little as Jeanne continued to smile fondly at him.

“This is getting ridiculous.” muttered Ren under his breath, clearly irked by the situation.

Lyserg did not bother to offer a hand to the disgruntled pointy haired one. Instead, his mind fell back on the circumstances that led to this strange yet overly friendly meeting.

“It transpires my numbers prediction was accurate too.” nodded Lyserg as he looked around at the group one by one.

“Numbers?” repeated Ren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” replied Lyserg, “There’s six of you. Six shaman.”

“Oh no, I’m not a shaman.” corrected Manta.

Lyserg blinked at the small human’s words. A puzzled look flickered across his delicate soft features.

“Huh. That’s weird. My advanced dousing technique is always correct about these things.” quietly muttered Lyserg, he lifted his arm to observe his dousing crystal device as he spoke.

“Maybe it just means there’s someone else around here we’re destined to meet too! This is awesome - it’s like a family reunion!” happily cried Yoh.

The rest of the group all exchanged a look with one another at Yoh’s words.

“Yoh.” hissed Hao. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little… carried away?”

Yoh brought himself down a few octaves at his brother’s sharp words.

“S-sorry, Hao. I’m just excited…” he muttered, sadly.

“Reunion? What do you mean?” innocently asked Lyserg.

“Oh. Hah.” jumped in HoroHoro. “Well… actually, it’s a little complicated Lionel but - things are a bit… upside down in our world at the moment?”

“Heh. That’s putting it lightly.”

“What HoroHoro means Lyserg is that… Yoh has actually met you before.” explained Hao, sympathetically.

“You have?!” gasped Lyserg, blinking in surprise at the twins.

Following Hao’s lead to speak the truth, Jeanne spoke up,

“I was not sure if it was my place to say, but Lyserg, dear - myself and Ren know you very well too. But in a different sort of way.”

Lyserg watched as Jeanne once again gave him an over-familiar smile. He looked on at confusion at the group he had just met for the very first time.

Yoh sighed deeply. He then looked around at the buildings surrounding them.

“You know what?” he sighed, smiling a bit. “Talking about all this confusing stuff really makes me hungry. I think I saw a diner over there – ”

“I like your thinking dude!” excitedly interrupted HoroHoro, “I could really go for a classic American cheeseburger right now!”

“It’s 9 o’clock in the morning!” snapped Ren.

“Hey!” retorted the Ainu shaman. “My body clock is still in China’s time zone! Mind your own business!”

The group turned their attention to a nearby bright red and cyan coloured diner sign. When Hao observed the shiny metallic reflective outdoor décor, he felt a strange sense of dread in his chest.

“Actually - I’m not all that hungry.” hastily muttered Hao, instinctively taking a step in the opposite direction, “And I think I’ve had enough awkward conversations lately to last me a whole other life time.”

The group all exchanged concerned glances with one another once more. Jeanne in particular gave Ren an intense glare in response to Hao’s sorrowful tone. Ren shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes at her in response.

“Are you sure man? You didn’t eat at all during the flight.” worriedly asked HoroHoro, placing a hand on the fire shaman’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Nii-chan. HoroHoro’s right - you need to eat something, we have a long journey ahead of us.” protested Yoh.

Without hesitation, Hao stepped back from his friend’s reassuring touch and continued on his way down the avenue alone.

“Just… get me something to take out. I - I’ll catch you all later. Enjoy your meal.”

In a shared stunned silence, all watched as the long-haired shaman hurriedly walked away from them.

After a moment, Ren scoffed and a devilish smirk appeared on his face as he looked towards the new addition to their group.

“Hm, one might assume he was running away from something.” sarcastically chuckled the warrior shaman.

“Or someone!” angrily snapped Jeanne.

As the others slowly one by one began to head towards the diner, Yoh kept his gaze on his big brother’s image for as long as possible before he disappeared at the end of the street.

“Hao…”

Continue here.

Enter “Alt Universe” here.

Read “Fractured Duality” in full here.

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murdockbarnes · 11 months ago

Text

saree not saree

pairing: lily evans x desi fem!reader

summary: helping lily put on a saree for the first time.

wordcount: 672 words

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. SEXUAL TENSION!! they're gay your honour!!!, pining, fluff, awkwardness

A/N: this thought popped into my head and would not let me sleep. reader is desi and there is no mention of which country so as to be more inclusive.

any feedback would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!

*not edited, all mistakes are mine*

it took lily little convincing to attend your family function with you. cultural food, cultural clothes, and a sleepover with her best friend rolled into one? count her in!

but as much as she loved sarees (especially seeing you in them), she would need all your help and then some to be able to wear it properly.

with your own saree done, you look over and see lily holding hers.

"here, let me help." you said, stepping closer to lily.

"oh yes, please thank god," she said with a chuckle. you smiled back in response, taking hold of the saree now. you see her petticoat is much too lose to be able to the saree and tell her it needs to be more snug.

"may i?" you ask, gesturing to the petticoat, and she nods.

you take the string to tighten the petticoat, untying it and praying your bent head hides how warm your cheeks have gotten. as you work on retying it to a snugger fit, your knuckles brush the soft skin of lily's skin, and you miss the way her breath hitches and her cheeks redden.

you tuck one end of the saree into the petticoat, trying to use the very tips of your fingers to do so while still making sure it's secure enough. when you finish pleating and tuck it in, your fingers sliding between lily's skin and petticoat, just below her belly button, you see her breath hitch and goosebumps rise all over her skin. you finally look up, now eyelevel with her heaving chest, and your eyes slowly pan over to her face as red as her hair.

her eyes are wide, filled with... panic? and if you weren't concerned about her and hypervigilant of the slightest of her motions, you would have missed the quick glance at your lips.

with your hands still around her hips, gently tracing the edge of the petticoat, and therefore her skin, you rise to your full height. you two are close enough to feel each other's breaths, and you can practically taste the sweets she had earlier. still looking into her wide eyes, you take the saree and drape it over her shoulder, pinching the fabric in the small space between your bodies to adjust it over her chest, careful not to touch. lily hopes you fail to notice the fresh wave of goosebumps, but you do.

with careful hands, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, fingers coming back to cradle lily's jaw.

"tell me to stop, lily," you breathe out in a whisper, lips inches from hers, "tell me to stop if you don't want this."

she glances back down at your lips. "i don't want you to."

and before you can react, you feel her fingers wrap around the back of your neck and her lips on yours. it's soft at first, slow and sweet, but it slowly grows in urgency as her fingers tangle in your hair, trailing over your shoulders and chest to finally rest low on your back. you can do nothing but go with the flow, hands in lily's hair, surprised because you hadn't thought she had kissed a girl before. out of breath, you both slowly break apart, foreheads still together.

"not bad for my first time kissing a girl, huh?" lily says a bit breathlessly. she feels warm all over her body, heart thudding against her chest. but simultaneously, there's a comforting feeling, like warm honey coating her from head to toe. it's a heady feeling, she won't lie.

"hmm, maybe you could do with some practice, though," you joke, giving her a quick peck or two. "we have to go now though, or we'll be late and all the sweets will be gone."

"after all, we have all the time in the world to figure it out." lily's smile bright as she says so. she takes your hand out the door, and she'll follow it just about anywhere.

after all, what's better than a best friend?

#ara writes #lily evans x reader #lily evans #marauders era #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #lily evans fluff #lily evans x fem!reader

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winxanity-ii · 7 months ago

Text

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 28 Chapter 28 | calculating embers⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

You sat at the train station, waiting as the gentle hum of people bustling around you faded into the background.

You were perched on a worn-out bench, your back perfectly straight, hands resting on your knees, your focus was glued to your phone. Unread messages filled the screen—all from Bakugo.

You scrolled through, each one more insistent than the last, ranging from him pestering you about which hero agency you picked to him grumbling about his own choice.

Your lips twisted into a half-scowl as you suppressed a scoff. His relentless messaging reminded you all too much of your classmates, each of them hounding you with questions about your internship.

Monoma had been particularly persistent, practically begging you to consider interning with him at Fatgum's agency.

It wasn't that you didn't appreciate their interest; you did. In a way it fueled your God-complex. But the way they buzzed around you, their questions tinged with a mix of admiration and nervous curiosity, bordered on suffocating.

They treated you like some enigmatic force, one that they simultaneously revered and feared, and maybe rightfully so.

You allowed your thumb to hover over Bakugo's messages, considering replying, but the clearing of a throat drew your attention away.

You looked up, eyes meeting two different colors. Todoroki stood before you, his expression unreadable, his dual-colored eyes holding yours with a calm intensity. He nodded in acknowledgment, his lips twitching into what might've been an attempt at a smile.

"Akuma-san," he greeted, his voice as calm and collected as ever.

"Todoroki-kun," you replied, slipping your phone into your pocket without another glance. He took a hesitant step forward, his gaze shifting to the empty spot on the bench beside you.

"Mind if I sit?"

You shook your head slightly, a silent invitation.

Todoroki settled beside you, maintaining a respectful distance. The silence that settled between you was comfortable, yet charged with an underlying tension—a tension that had been there since the festival, since the day you'd left early, leaving a whirlwind of emotions in your wake.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, observing the way his brows knit together, as though he were debating something internally.

He shifted slightly, adjusting his posture before finally speaking. "My father told me you decided to intern with him," Todoroki said, his voice almost too casual, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction. You could feel his gaze on you, searching for any hint of your thoughts.

You blinked, letting a moment of silence hang in the air. Then you turned your head just enough to meet his eyes, your expression unreadable. "Did he now?" you replied, your tone deliberately vague.

Todoroki nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to read between the lines of your response. "Why?" he asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice. "Why pick his agency?"

You tilted your head slightly, a cryptic smile playing on your lips. "You'll just have to wait and see, now won't you, Todoroki-kun." His brows furrowed, frustration flashing in his eyes for just a second before he masked it with his usual calm demeanor.

Before Todoroki could respond, a sudden squeal echoed through the station, pulling both of your attention away.

You turned your head in unison, spotting Ashido skipping toward you, her eyes wide with excitement. "Akuma-san!" she called out, her voice breathless but full of energy as she skipped towards you, her grin bright and wide.

She skidded to a stop in front of the bench, her pink hair bouncing slightly as she caught her breath. "Hey! I knew I'd find you here!" she said, her excitement practically radiating off her. "So, where are you interning? I've been dying to know!"

You offered her a polite smile, nodding slightly but remaining silent. Ashido didn't seem to mind, continuing to chatter away with her usual enthusiasm. She went on about her own internship and the snacks she planned on bringing.

Before she could continue, Todoroki spoke, his voice cutting through her excited rambling. "Ashido-chan..."

Ashido blinked, her head snapping towards him as if just now realizing he was there. "Oh! Hi, Todoroki-kun!" she said, her grin widening. "How've you been? Which agency are you interning with?"

Todoroki's face remained passive, but there was something that darkened in his eyes, if it was even possible. "I'm interning with my father," he stated simply.

Ashido blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovered. "Oh... right! Endeavor's agency. That's... um, that's really cool," she said, her voice a bit more cautious, clearly unsure how to react.

Before the conversation could continue, Asui's calm tone broke through the chatter.. "Ribbit, there you are, Mina." She approached the group, her large eyes blinking at the sight of you and Todoroki. "Our train will be arriving soon," she added, her gaze shifting to you and Todoroki. "Hello, Akuma-san. Todoroki. It's a surprise to see you two here."

Ashido perked up, nodding vigorously. "Yeah! I was just saying the same thing! But then Todoroki told me he's interning with his dad, and I—"

A loud chime echoed through the station, followed by a calm, automated announcement: "The train to Shinjuku is now approaching the platform. Please stand behind the yellow line."

You and Todoroki stood up from the bench, the movement almost synchronized.

Ashido pouted, her lips curving downward as she glanced at the train. "Ah, man!" she whined, looking at you with a hint of disappointment. "I was really hoping you'd be interning somewhere near me. I'm gonna miss you, Akuma-san!"

You kept your expression smooth, hiding the small bud of annoyance that threatened to show. Ashido's enthusiasm was beginning to fray your patience.

You gave her a soft smile, your tone gentle as you spoke. "I'll miss you too, Ashido-chan. But don't worry, I'm sure you and Asui-chan will do amazing things at your agency. I'll be cheering for you both."

Ashido's eyes widened slightly, her cheeks tinting pink as she glanced at Asui, who also blinked, her own cheeks darkening a shade. Asui gave a small nod, her voice a bit quieter. "Thank you, Akuma-san. That... means a lot. Ribbit."

Ashido beamed, preening under your words as she stood up. "Alrighty then! We should get going, Tsu!" she said, linking her arm with Asui's and giving you one last wave. "See you guys soon! Don't forget to text me, Akuma-san!"

You returned the wave, watching as the two of them headed off, Ashido's bubbly energy contrasting with Asui's calm demeanor.

You exhaled softly, relieved as the station quieted down once more. You turned back to Todoroki, who had been silently observing the entire exchange. He gave you a small nod before walking towards the approaching train.

You mirrored his movement, brushing off your skirt, following right behind him.

The train arrived with a soft screech, the doors sliding open to reveal an almost empty interior.

You stepped in, Todoroki close behind, and both of you found seats across from each other. The carriage was mostly vacant, save for a few scattered passengers who were either engrossed in their phones or dozing off against the windows.

You settled into your seat, the gentle rocking of the train as it started to move providing a calming rhythm. Todoroki looked at you, his expression still thoughtful, as if he were trying to piece together something in his mind.

"You know, Akuma-san, you seem to have a way with people," he began, his gaze not leaving you.

You met his eyes briefly, your expression still. "Is that so?" you hummed, noncommittal, before turning your attention back to the window.

Todoroki bristled slightly at your dismissive response, his lips pressing into a thin line. He couldn't help but notice the difference—how you weren't as distant with others as you were with him. Your interaction with Ashido and Asui had been warm, almost affectionate. It made the chill in your words towards him feel all the more biting.

He cleared his throat, determined to try again. "At the sports festival..." he started, pausing as if choosing his words carefully. "You threw the match between Tokoyami-kun on purpose, didn't you?"

Your eyes shot over to him, narrowing slightly, and for a moment, the quiet rattling of the train seemed to fade into the background. Internally, your thoughts paused, considering his words. Of course, he'd noticed. It wasn't something a competitor like Todoroki would overlook. Still, the fact that he was so concerned, that he saw through it...

"Why does it matter?" you responded, your tone even, eyes narrowing as you studied his reaction.

He blinked, visibly taken aback by your bluntness, but he didn't look away. "Because I don't understand you," he said. "You're strong. Seemingly stronger than most of us. You could have gone further in that tournament, maybe even won. But you threw it away. I just... I want to understand why."

You watched him for a moment, your gaze drifting over his face. There was something earnest in his eyes—a rawness that was rare for Todoroki. He wasn't asking out of mere curiosity; it was deeper than that. He wanted to understand you in a way that others hadn't dared; even if it meant peeling back layers formed to protect the rest of the world from your insanity.

You allowed a small smile to grace your lips, a knowing expression that only deepened his confusion. "I'm not here to prove anything," you replied, your voice almost a whisper. "Not to the teachers, not to the audience, and definitely not to the others in Class 1-A or B. I don't need to win to know my capabilities."

Todoroki frowned, his lips parting as if to argue, but he hesitated. Instead, he watched you, searching for something in your eyes. Maybe an answer he could understand, maybe a glimpse of what lay beneath your cool demeanor.

"So... you threw the match... just because?" he finally asked, his voice trailing off, almost disbelieving.

"A great question that deserves a great answer," you murmured, turning away, looking back out the window. "Unfortunately for you, I have my reasons. Reasons you wouldn't understand. Not yet."

Silence settled between you again, thicker this time, filled with unsaid words and unanswered questions. Todoroki sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if accepting that he wouldn't get the answers he was seeking today.

You shifted slightly, turning your body away from him, signaling the end of the conversation. Your thoughts drifted as you stared out the window, the scenery blurring past.

Not only was Todoroki nosy—just as annoying as any other pests that had clung to you lately—but you knew you'd have to keep an eye on him. Not for the same reasons as Midoriya, but because Todoroki might become an issue later on. He was too observant, too willing to dig deeper.

And someone like that could be a problem if they ever decided you were worth investigating.

☆

The train pulled into Shinjuku City Station with a gentle lurch, the automated announcement chiming softly overhead. You and Todoroki stepped onto the platform, the brisk air tinged with the scent of urban life—exhaust fumes mingled with the faint aroma of street food vendors setting up for the day.

The city pulsed with energy, a labyrinth of towering skyscrapers casting long shadows across the bustling streets below. Neon signs flickered even in daylight, advertising everything from hero memorabilia to the latest technological gadgets.

Amidst the throng of pedestrians, pro heroes moved with purpose, their distinctive costumes adding splashes of color to the sea of suits and casual attire.

As you navigated through the crowds alongside Todoroki, your thoughts drifted to the days ahead. Interning with Endeavor promised to be... enlightening, if nothing else. The No. 2 hero was renowned not just for his formidable power but also for his relentless drive and, as some whispered, his overbearing demeanor.

You arrived at the towering building that housed Endeavor's agency—a sleek monolith of glass and steel that seemed to pierce the very clouds. The facade was imposing, reflecting the sky in a way that made the structure appear both part of the city and entirely separate from it.

The emblem of a flaming "E" adorned the entrance, leaving no doubt as to who commanded this domain.

Stepping inside, the atmosphere shifted. The lobby was expansive, bathed in warm hues of red and orange that mimicked the flicker of flames. Assistants and sidekicks moved efficiently through the space, their expressions focused and serious.

The air was charged with a sense of urgency, as if every second wasted was an affront to productivity. A tall woman with sharp features and a headset approached.

"Todoroki Shoto, Akuma ____?" she inquired briskly.

"Yes," Todoroki replied.

"Follow me. Endeavor is expecting you."

You exchanged a brief glance with Todoroki before proceeding down a corridor lined with portraits of Endeavor in various heroic poses—defeating villains, saving civilians, always with an intense glare that seemed to challenge anyone who looked upon it.

Overcompensating much? you mused silently, a hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. The sheer number of self-aggrandizing images bordered on the absurd, each one more ostentatious than the last. It was as if he needed constant reminders of his own greatness, plastered across every available surface.

The assistant led you to a set of imposing double doors. "He's inside," she said before promptly turning on her heel and walking away.

Todoroki pushed the doors open without hesitation, and you followed suit. The room beyond was a vast office that doubled as a command center. Large screens displayed news feeds, maps, and live reports of incidents across the city. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Hosu, the city stretching out like a concrete jungle beneath a cloudy sky.

At the center of it all stood Endeavor, his broad back turned to you as he surveyed the cityscape.

Even without seeing his face, there was an intensity that radiated from him—an aura of barely contained power, of ambition that bordered on obsession. His shoulders were broad, his stance rigid, and the air around him seemed to hum with heat.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, taking in the figure before you, but quickly relaxed your expression before he could see. He clearly wanted to project the image of absolute control, of someone who had conquered all challenges before him. But to you, it felt like he was compensating for something—trying too hard to make sure everyone knew just how strong, how capable he was.

It was almost pathetic, in a way.

Endeavor finally turned to face you and Todoroki, his fiery mustache and stern eyes immediately commanding attention.

His towering frame was even more imposing in person, clad in his signature hero costume—dark blue with fiery accents that seemed to flicker with their own inner light. The flames that wreathed his shoulders and face burned steadily, casting a warm glow that contrasted sharply with the coldness in his eyes when he finally turned to face you.

You couldn't help but notice the faint resemblance between him and Todoroki—the same sharp features, the same piercing gaze. But where Todoroki's eyes held a quiet, conflicted determination, Endeavor's were filled with something harsher, a fire that seemed to burn not just for power but for something more—something darker.

"You're late," he stated flatly, his deep voice resonating through the room.

"We arrived at the scheduled time," Todoroki replied, his tone neutral.

Endeavor's gaze swept over you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Akuma ____. Your performance at the Sports Festival was adequate."

"Thank you," you replied evenly, meeting his gaze without flinching.

He grunted, turning his attention back to the screens. "I don't tolerate mediocrity. If you're here to waste my time, you can leave now."

"Rest assured, I have no intention of wasting anyone's time," you responded, a subtle edge to your voice.

Endeavor glanced over his shoulder at you, a flicker of something—approval, perhaps—crossing his features before it vanished beneath his stoic facade. "We'll see. Let's get started. You're here to learn, and I won't tolerate anything less than absolute effort."

As he spoke, you found yourself tuning out the specifics of his words, your attention more focused on the man himself.

It was clear he thrived on control—needed it, even. His presence, the decor, the countless portraits—it all screamed a desperate need to assert his dominance.

It was almost humorous to think that someone like him believed he had the true strength to wield control.

History had shown that those who sought power for power's sake always faltered when given even a taste of what real control was. They all crumbled, lost sight of their goals, and fell victim to their own ambition.

But you... you were different. You were the only one truly capable of handling it, of seeing beyond mere dominance and understanding what real power entailed. You knew how to wield it without falling apart, without losing yourself to it.

Power was not just about forcing others to bend to your will—it was about understanding the very threads that connected people, about manipulating those threads without them even realizing.

It was about subtlety, precision, and having the patience that someone like Endeavor could never hope to possess.

He was fire—bright, hot, consuming everything in its path. But fire burned out eventually, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.

You were different. You were the one who could endure, who could see through the flames and remain standing when everything else had turned to dust.

Your gaze shifted back to Endeavor as he continued speaking, his voice a commanding presence in the room. He turned fully to face you and Todoroki, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Both of you, get changed into your hero costumes."

You raised an eyebrow at the abrupt command but kept your thoughts to yourself. Why was he having both of you change so soon? The day had only just begun, and it wasn't like you were about to head into action immediately.

Still, you held your tongue, opting instead to glance at Todoroki, who appeared thoughtful rather than passive. It was rare for him to question anything when it came to his father, but perhaps today was different.

Todoroki gave a small nod before speaking up, his voice calm, almost indifferent. "Why do we need to change now?"

Endeavor huffed, his eyes narrowing slightly, the flames on his shoulders flickering with what seemed like irritation. "Perfection doesn't happen by chance, Shoto. You need to be ready at all times. There is no room for error, no moment where you aren't prepared for what might come next."

You watched the interaction with mild interest, a smirk tugging at your lips. His answer was so... predictable. Endeavor was all about appearances, about pushing forward, making sure everyone saw him as the ultimate hero.

The man didn't understand the concept of subtly or flexibility—just brute force, pushing until something gave way.

Todoroki didn't respond, simply giving a curt nod before turning towards you. You mirrored his movement, your expression returning to one of neutrality.

You knew what this was—a display, a reminder of who was in charge. And while you had no intention of challenging that, at least not yet, it amused you to watch Endeavor's attempts to maintain control over everything and everyone around him.

You both turned to leave the room, the door closing behind you with a solid thud. As you made your way down the corridor, you couldn't help but shake your head slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips.

All these people—Endeavor, Todoroki, Bakugo, even Midoriya—they thought they knew what it meant to be strong, to have control. But none of them had the slightest idea.

You had always been the one in control, the puppet master weaving every thread into the intricate dance that suited your needs. And it amused you—how unaware they were of the fragility of their so-called power.

But you knew better. You knew that sometimes, a gentle tug at the right moment could unravel everything.

A faint smirk touched your lips as you walked into the changing room. You could almost hear the echoes of your past life, reminders of the control you once wielded with such ease.

Back then, your power was undeniable, unquestioned.

You were a force of nature, bending everyone to your whims with a smile that promised everything and delivered only what served you.

This life was no different—only the setting had changed, and the players had different faces.

They were all just players in a game they didn't fully understand, and you... you were the one holding the strings.

☆

Days passed since your initial introduction to Endeavor's agency, and to your surprise, interning under the No. 2 hero had proven to be unexpectedly useful.

Each morning began before dawn, the sun barely cresting the horizon as you and Todoroki engaged in rigorous exercises designed to push you to your limits. Endeavor demanded perfection, his critiques sharp and unyielding, yet you found the challenge invigorating.

Endeavor's agency was a well-oiled machine, driven by the same kind of relentless pursuit of efficiency that seemed to define the man himself. And while the hero's methods were crude—lacking the elegance you appreciated—there was value to be found in his relentless determination.

Endeavor's strict, almost militant approach also gave you insights into how he manipulated the perception of strength, forcing his ideals upon others, especially Todoroki.

You could see why Todoroki had that quiet turmoil in his eyes. It was interesting—watching them, father and son, dance around each other with their cold silences and unspoken resentments.

It was like observing a failed experiment, one where control had been attempted through brute force rather than finesse. Watching them, you were reminded again why your way was superior.

Force bred resistance. True power was in knowing exactly when to push, and when to pull back.

More than that, Endeavor's agency exposed you to the inner workings of the hero world—its flaws, its weaknesses.

You saw the cracks beneath the polished exterior. Pro-heroes who moved with arrogance, certain of their invincibility. Sidekicks who desperately tried to keep up, to prove themselves, but were ultimately replaceable in the grand scheme.

You saw the way the public's expectations shaped actions, twisted motivations until the heroes were little more than actors on a stage, desperately trying to keep up appearances.

It was all so... exploitable.

Such valuable information. The kind that could be used to your advantage later—leverage, should the need ever arise.

In quiet moments, you couldn't help but draw parallels to memories that felt both distant and intimately familiar. It reminded you of your past life as Makima, how every smile, every carefully chosen word had been a tool, a way to ensure everyone fell neatly in line with your plans.

Back then, people didn't even realize they were being played until it was too late, and now was no different. Here, in this new life, you could feel that same potential. That same delicious thrill of having everyone move according to your design.

It was almost funny—Endeavor, with all his bluster and flame, thought he was in control. But every order he barked, every training exercise he demanded, only added to your understanding, your knowledge. And knowledge, after all, was power.

True power.

You caught glimpses of Todoroki watching you during training sessions, his gaze lingering longer than it should, as if trying to decipher what lay beneath the surface.

You knew he was curious, suspicious even. He was no fool, and he could tell there was more to you than met the eye. But that was fine. Let him wonder. Let him try to piece together the puzzle.

It would only serve to pull him deeper into your web, to make him more predictable.

A/N: oh wow, not me having to split into 2 parts because it was like 10-12k words altogether 💀💀

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