#after three staircases I'm dying

[mossyinkynebulous]

So like, this has been in my head the past few days and it's something that happened years ago, but like who the fuck has the audacity to tell an asthmatic person that they should just be better. I'm gonna leave stuff out bc it's bullshit but I really don't understand people that are like there's people with asthma in the military therefore you have the potential to do the same things they do. I tried explaining that, sure, there are elements that I can work to improve it, but there's certain things that my asthma literally won't adapt to.

Love y'all. Remember to drink water, eat, and take care of yourself. Including sleep. (I say as I have to get up in 3 hours)

[danieyells]

I'm not sure why I feel so attracted to the idea of Jiro sedating the MC and touching them over their clothes but not daring to do much more, and later the MC waking up and thinking it was a kind of dream influenced by him taking care of their pre-op "well he was always handsome"

You're attracted to it because it's hot anon 👀 the vulnerability, the drugging, the lack of fulfillment when all he does is grope over your clothes, the uncertainty--i'm always a slut for dub/non-con and drugging oh lord 👀 tell me more anon

And man i sure hope this isn't total gibberish because i wrote it in parts over the course of the day and only finished like now and it's 4am. . . .

I feel a little disappointed in this one, i'll admit lolol and it's not exactly what you described but maybe you'll like it anyway?

Obvious non/dubcon and (consensual, medical) drugging cws. Additional warnings for that the pc is never named and is only referred to as 'they' for the most part, and I left their gender and genitals ambiguous, which makes for some sloppy writing on my part. . . .

They had been helping at Jabberwock a few days prior and they'd been bitten by an anomaly. It was a minor injury but Haru was worried about the side effects. After Towa nearly sent the poor creature to hell, they'd been sent to Mortkranken for examination, to be certain the beast's venom wouldn't have any lasting effects.

It was Yuri who inspected them the first time. Even after spending time helping the medical house, Yuri still made the inspector feel a little on edge. They worried the only thing that kept them from more than basic examination and preventative care was Professor Nicolas' presence.

"Their venom is slow acting." Yuri scoffed after they described the anomaly they'd been affected by. He walked with them after they were discharged, making his way to another patient in the building as he explained before they went their separate ways. "If you go a week without noticing any changes the medicine worked in full. Come back if you start experiencing any unintended muscle movements!"

With that sharp dismissal, they returned to the Cathedral, worrying over every twitch and itch and crawl under their skin.

And three days later they were once again in Mortkranken after a sudden movement of their leg nearly sent them careening down a staircase.

Kaito and Luca had been kind enough to rush them to the infirmary, where Professor Nicolas subsequently had them quickly transported to Mortkranken as the anomalous effects would be better treated there(much to Kaito's dismay.)

A general student saw them into a wheelchair and rolled them inside the office, helping them onto an examination table to make sure another spasm wouldn't cause them any injury. Even as they were brought inside they began to panic as the spasms increased in frequency and spread from their leg into other parts of their body. They shook and twitched against their own wishes, even as Jiro arrived in the exam room with the necessary materials.

"You're moving too much." Jiro sighed on sight, putting down the needle he'd filled without even saying hello. He moved to fetch a fresh one and a small jar of lavender colored fluid. "I'm going to sedate you. You should be okay to fall asleep, if you feel tired. You shouldn't die."

The human tried to find the honest statement and lack of alarm comforting. If they were dying then surely Yuri and Nicolas would have been contacted? Or perhaps their curse or the ring would have counteracted it?

The summer had seen them abandon their blazer in favor of wearing a short sleeve dress shirt, making access to their arm quite simple. Jiro moved to hold their upper arm when another spasm rocked it. After waiting for the jolts to cease, he gripped their arm tight enough to make them wince, disinfected their skin with precision, and jabbed the needle into their upper arm with a little pinch.

The effect was almost immediate as he pushed down the plunger. The moment the fluid entered them they felt fuzzy, their vision swimming as if with exhaustion. The warmth spread and their muscles relaxed, losing most of their strength. Where a convulsion was about to start they felt a much weaker muscle spasm, registering in their mind as barely a crawl of their skin. Once all of the fluid had entered them, the needle was pulled out and discarded in an anomalous container for sharps; the spot was immediately cleaned and bandaged.

The sedative must have had some additional effect, the inspector reasoned. Where Jiro must have had been pressing fingers against the plaster to stop any bleeding, they imagined a long press of his lips.

But that wouldn't make sense.

Or be sanitary wound care.

(Would he even have a concept of 'kissing wounds makes them better'? It didn't seem like he grew up in such a gentle environment.)

Once he was certain the spasms had been relaxed Jiro put on a new pair of gloves and fetched his original needle. "This should kill any of the remaining venom." He explained as he cleaned another patch of skin. "Aside from the initial pinch you shouldn't notice anything odd. Maybe a little burning.

"If you feel anything besides that. . . ." He looked into their eyes, glassy and hazy. Barely there, their mind and body were so numb. For a moment they were able to focus on him, and he seemed to smile in amusement--although, that would be strange for Jiro, so it must have just been the medicine. "Just lie there and drool, I suppose. I'll take care of it."

Any attempt at response failed, their body feeling so limp that even speaking was a task. It felt like a nightmare of helplessness, the kind they'd had many times since coming to Darkwick--unable to move their body and helpless at the mercy of some person or beast. But even through the needles' sharp penetration(barely noticed in the haze of their sedation) they felt surprisingly safe. Perhaps their sleeping mind heard Jiro's blunt explanations and took them as literal as Jiro meant them to be and felt no fear or discomfort. They were helpless and heavy, but not afraid despite it. Like a dream within a dream.

As Jiro had claimed, they feel nothing but a light burn tingling in their veins. A gentle buzz throughout their being. They could almost feel the anomalous medicine working, seeking out the toxicity in their muscles and killing it. Or perhaps the sensitivity was part of their sedative-induced dream.

"Done." Jiro announced. The needle left them, and they were cleaned and bandaged once again. Jiro kissed--or pressed against, more likely--the bandage until the bleeding stopped. They opened their bleary eyes to watch him as he cleaned up. "You'll need to be monitored for about ten minutes, to make sure there are no side effects." He looked back at them lying on the examination table, a limp doll of a human. Not that, compared to Jiro, they were much stronger than a doll to begin with. "Not that you can go anywhere. In your condition."

Was that a laugh, or a sigh? It was a little huff of a sound, something they might as well have had imagined. A lot of things seemed imagined here. Like that Jiro didn't leave to attend to another patient and leave a general student to look after them until they could move again. Yuri would have likely had them put in a chair and wheeled back home with one of their friends. . .or worse, used their helpless body in some sort of experiment.

Perhaps that thought is what made the Jiro in their mind come closer once everything was in order and examine them closely. Had it been ten minutes? Time really didn't seem to have a meaning right now. They tried moving, and found little change in when they were first injected.

"Did I give you too much?" Jiro asked, slipping strong hands under their arms and repositioning them. They managed a sound best(though still poorly) described as a weak squeak in acknowledgement. "It's a strong sedative. If I didn't give it to you the venom might have started coordinating your spasms until it controlled your body. You'll be able to move again eventually."

Once they'd been placed back onto the table in a good position, the head of the table slightly raised, Jiro watched them.

Then, he moved a hand to lightly rest on their sternum.

"You're not breathing very hard." He observed. His hand traveled over to the left, cupping their chest. His other hand went to their neck, resting over their pulse. The palm over their chest started stroking the area through their shirt, heavy and dragging as if absentminded. They tensed, trying to squirm but too weak to do so.

"Your RPM and heart rate are a little high." Jiro noted aloud, though not on any sort of chart. The hand on their neck traced their throat with a thumb. "And you're starting to warm up. An allergic reaction, maybe. . .? You weren't found to be allergic to any of the anomalous medicine we use during your health checks."

The hand on their chest gave the tissue a squeeze. First a soft massaging, then something rougher. The way he spoke was so clinical, they had to assume the contact was little more than a fever dream, the last of the spasms wracking their body in particularly sensitive places and their sleeping mind filling in the blanks with thoughts of their vulnerable body being toyed with by the handsome, stoic doctor.

Even the tweak to one of their nipples wasn't enough to wake them, only enough to elicit another squeak and make them shudder in lieu of squirming or arching their back. Even when the hand on their throat moved to their jaw and traced their lips, sinking into their unresistant mouth to stroke their tongue, they assumed they were dreaming, misinterpreting what was happening in the waking world. Jiro commented on their temperature, thumb teasing the back of their throat until they just barely gagged. He retracted his hand entirely to mind their pebbling nipples with both.

What started so purely as the medical attention they needed had, in some length of time that they couldn't measure through the fog, became a pair of strong and heavy hands tracing down their side and waist, sliding over to grope at their tummy. The muscles beneath weakly tensed at the ticklish feeling, and he gave a little hum in acknowledgement. "It looks like you're getting your strength back, at least."

When he relocated his hands to their hips, they confirmed this slight recovery with a little squirm. He squeezed down, presumably to keep them still. "Relax. You'll need your strength for when you leave."

Presumably, it was to keep them still, although they felt his hands slip beneath to their rear, kneading their ass and tracing their crack through their clothes. When he spread the cheeks, he once again received a whine and a squirm, which he responded to with a rough squeeze as if in punishment. Nonetheless, he moved down to their thighs, similarly admiring their shape and feel, before slipping his hands between and spreading them without a hint of effort on his part.

"Ji--!" Their slurred attempt at speech was disrupted by their choked gasp when Jiro's groping moved to squeeze their crotch. The sudden jolt of pleasure, after being worked up through what felt like hours of slowly being toyed with, was enough to almost push through the muscle relaxants in the sedative for just a moment, letting them arch into the contact. They were still too weak to grind into his hand, however, and he only pushed back enough to get their hips to drop painfully back onto the table.

"I told you to calm down." His fingers traced the shape of their genitals, stroking as if to learn the shape more than to titillate. Jiro was a doctor. He'd personally given them medical examinations where they were wearing much less. He already knew what was there, though not in such intimacy. He didn't like 'pointless' things. He wouldn't see a point in something like this. So it could only be a dream. He massaged them through the fabric of their uniform and underwear, fingers pressing and stroking where heat seeped through the most. They only hoped he couldn't feel the moisture gathering there as well. "Your temperature is going up again."

Watching Jiro's actions was difficult in their exhausted condition. While there was no way they could conceptualize that Jiro would actually do any of this, some part of them desperately wanted to know what Jiro--if only as a product of their imagination--was feeling as he brought them agonizingly slowly towards orgasm.

They blinked through the mist of tears they realized must have been forming along with the drool running down their still parted lips, until Jiro's face came into focus. He was much too close to their lap, so close his even, unhurried breaths could be felt warming them through their clothes. It only added to the stimulation. Jiro was an adult, even if he sometimes seemed quite juvenile, like when he laughed at stag beetles fighting or Yuri struggling not to sleep in class; it was surely impossible that he didn't know what he was doing.

On the other hand, he'd been in a coma for some time, and he had no real consideration for the privacy of others' bodies. . .the intent look of study combined with a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he breathed over their aroused genitals and felt the way the touch of his scarred hands made them change. . . .

It was as if he was using their body to sate some curiosity, rather than truly molest them. Even the way his other hand gripped their clothing, as if considering simply removing it, seemed too explorative to be malicious or manipulative.

Or perhaps they simply thought that way because their angle didn't afford them the sight of his lap, to see if he was, perhaps, getting as aroused as they were.

But Jiro paused in his ministrations, contact returning shortly to simply resting his hand on that sensitive and throbbing area, before he retracted his hands completely. Again, they whinged, squirming at being left alone as Jiro seemed to disappear from the examination table.

"Interesting." What was of interest wasn't quite clear. It occurred to them that their body's responses to their dream were real, and perhaps the real Jiro was made aware of their arousal. It was impossible to tell his reaction from his voice alone, and they writhed in humiliation at being caught in some sort of medically induced wet dream. "It seems like you'll need a little more time to recover."

They held their breath, but the contact never returned. They felt themself cooking down, but still sensitive, as if Jiro's touch was lingering. Occasionally they heard some noise in the examination room--a turning page or a keyboard or computer mouse or writing implements on paper. Occasionally a noise from a phone, or a distant echo from out in the hall. But for the most part, all they heard was a strangely loud and hazy silence.

At some point, the dream turned to void, as if they'd fallen asleep inside of it.

When they came to, the world had much less of a layer of fog over it. Their body still felt heavy, but not so much so that they couldn't move it. Sounds were a bit sharper, and yet they heard less as if their senses had been heightened in their sleep. Yuri was scolding Jiro, something about dawdling in here with the sleeping patient when there was work to be done.

"They had a reaction to the antivenom." Jiro explained, his voice coming closer. As usual his footfalls were shockingly quiet, and they would have never known he was coming near if he weren't speaking. They squinted into the strong lights, raising an arm to cover their face. "They're awake now, so I'll discharge them."

"Fine. But hurry up! You know what happens when you're late for your medicine, and I won't tolerate your complaints if you're the cause of your own delay!" Yuri stormed out, likely to prepare Jiro's medication, not even acknowledging them despite having had seen them out when they first checked in days prior.

Jiro, meanwhile, presented them with a light snack of crackers and a juice box. "I would recommend eating a meal and getting some rest once you get home. That sedative wasn't made for restful sleep."

They cleared their throat after taking a few sips of juice. "You said I had a reaction. . . ."

"Yes."

"What. . .happened. . .?"

"Increased temperature, heart rate, and respiration." Jiro explained, watching them eat.

"Did you do anything to stop them. . .?" They really wanted to ask if it was truly a product of the antivenom, but feared sounding accusatory over what was likely a dream.

"No. They weren't at a dangerous level. I just kept an eye on them so make sure they didn't get worse."

They nodded, sipping their juice again. "And the sedative can give you strange dreams? You said it isn't made for restful sleep. . . ."

"Your body is forced to sleep without your mind being put into a restful place first. It would be like falling asleep with something on your mind, making you more likely to dream about it. So, yes, that would likely be the case."

They heaved a somewhat disappointed sigh, tilting the last of their snack crackers into their mouth. "That's good, I think. . .I'm glad that's all that happened."

"If you say so."

That response felt off. Jiro took their trash and threw it away, fetching the wheelchair they were rolled in on to help them into it. He put a hand on their back, making them jump as they were gently pushed to the edge of the lowered bed to sit up.

"What do you mean? That's all that happened, isn't it?"

"It already happened." Jiro said dismissively, putting his hands under their arms to lift them up(again?) and sit them into the chair, not trusting their legs just yet. "I don't see a point in worrying what happened between your treatment and now."

The cursed inspector tried to formulate a response that could convince Jiro to share what he meant--even if all he said was that he had read a medical journal, or that he'd adjusted them in bed a few times--but knowing Jiro they couldn't think of a way to get him to talk. They squeezed their thighs together, feeling their genitals throb from the orgasm denial, the unfulfillment of their dream that might have been reality. But they were already back in the Mortkranken lobby, where Luca greeted them with a kind smile, approaching.

"Can you walk?" He asked as Jiro locked the chair. They set one leg on the floor and, though it felt heavy, they could definitely balance enough to get up and stumble over to Luca on wobbly legs before giving a weak nod. "I'm glad to hear it. It looks like you've recovered well. Are they clear to return home, Doctor Kirisaki?"

"Just Jiro is fine." Jiro looked them over once more. It was surely their imagination that his gaze lingered on their crotch--where they squeezed their thighs together tightly, remembering their dizzy dream and just how close his lips were before he pulled away--as opposed to their slightly wobbling legs. "They're a fall risk until they've had a meal and some rest. But they're safe for discharge."

A general Mortkranken student trotted up, offering the scholarship student their discharge paperwork and instructions, then collected the wheelchair for sensitization and storage once the papers were taken. They and Lucas thanked them kindly, and Jiro as well. He simply nodded in response, before they began to make their way out the door.

The cursed human took one final look back at Jiro, who simply tilted his head at them like so many of the cats around campus. Then he winced and turned away, stumbling towards the basement to receive his medication.

About two or three hours later, they received a WickChat message.

Jiro: You implied you experienced an odd dream as an effect of the sedative. This may also have been a yet unseen reaction between the sedative and the antivenom. Jiro: For the sake of proper documentation, would you be able to expound upon the dream at all? It's okay if you can't remember everything. Any details would be valuable to the understanding of anomalous medicine and its effects on humans and individuals afflicted by curses.

Their heart pounded. Telling Jiro what they dreamed of could be valuable information, but could they really bear the humiliation of it? Of explaining that they'd had a nearly wet dream about him, while he was in the room with them? Would Jiro even think anything of it, oblivious as he is to emotional matters?

Jiro: If it helps, a date for you to be sedated again could be arranged. You could be attached to a brain wave monitor, so your memory won't need to be relied upon. Jiro: Perhaps the dream will reoccur. I'll be sure to thoroughly extract something of value, so the experience isn't wasted.

Perhaps it was his use of 'thoroughly extracting value', but the thought crossed their mind that they hadn't been dreaming at all, and that Jiro mayhaps wanted to finish what he started. But it wouldn't make sense from the get go for it to have had been real. . . .

And yet they remembered Jiro's talk of prescribing death to others and dismissing ethics.

There was no point in discussing the ethics of something that had already been done, he said.

Perhaps some of the experience was real. He wouldn't have had been so cryptic about what had happened while they slept if nothing had occurred, would he?

Although, he was often cryptic about things, so perhaps that was merely coincidence and they were getting their hopes up--

Jiro: A prompt response would be appreciated. 'No' is an acceptable response, as well.

They scrambled to type a response, realizing they'd left him on read.

8636: I don't know how well I can recall. . . . 8636: I'm willing to be re-sedated, though! 8636: Before I agree to it, may I ask a potentially non-medical question? Jiro: I can't stop you from asking questions over WickChat. 8636: What happened while I was sedated today? After I was given the antivenom?

There was a pause, but no typing for a while. Then the general Mortkranken WickChat messaged them with appointment information.

8636: Jiro? Jiro: ? 8636: I didn't see a response, so I was just checking in. . . . Jiro: I didn't agree to answer the question.

A fair, if disappointing response.

Jiro: Just know I attempted to administer a holistic remedy to an unanticipated physiological response that arose during your treatment.

The response took a little longer to parse. As realization dawned on them, the next message came in.

Jiro: It didn't work as intended, as I'm not very experienced with such methods or concerns. Perhaps you noticed your continued affliction after discharge, and your discharge instructions. Jiro: Should the same issue arise, I've done more research.

They covered their face in embarrassment.  The discharge instruction "administer personal relief as needed" made much more sense now. They desperately hoped the Mortkranken student who handed them their discharge instructions hadn't read it first.

Accepting this explanation, they hastily sent an apology and threw themself down in bed, covering their face. Did they have to go to the appointment!? Jiro had only been trying to help them, albeit in an extremely questionable way. . .and somehow the thought that he had done more research to better serve the need in question. . .it was embarrassing, despite that they were the victim. They were able to excuse it, rationalizing that they were attracted to Jiro anyway and the idea alone felt exciting, but now walking into it as though it were any other medical procedure felt. . .insincere.

Resolving to perhaps cancel the appointment and try and get Jiro to have a talk with them about ethics, they dozed off, trying to ignore the returning heat and throbbing between their legs.

When they next awoke, it was to a small pinch, like the needles they'd recieved that day.

Just as had happened earlier, their strength was robbed from them nearly immediately, and they gasped as they felt a pair of lips on their chest, sucking at the nipple through their pajamas. A familiar large, heavy hand squeezed their other breast, twisting and tugging the nipple there.

"Not to worry." Jiro reassured through the gloom and the haze of sleep and strong sedatives. "Just like earlier, this is all a dream."

Limp in bed, a heavy doll for him to experiment on, what could they do but comply?

[aruanimess]

Round three, of me endlessly yapping on Reverse AU. I am still VERY new to this.. tumblr asking, notes and whatnot, so.. I apologise if I seem somewhat annoying and bothersome Anyway, less 'bout me, more on blondes! I'm going to try spitballing a few ideas there and there, because I don't have ONE big topic/arc to really focus on, so here we go!

1; Armin being captured after his identity is figured out. There are.. three way's of this going, in my opinion. >First, being that they managed to successfully take him down into the tunnels to capture him, possibly after some convincing by Annie, since he trusts her a lot? (Plus, if Armin sticks around to around S3 when they're all in that Cabin, hiding away from the Military Police and all. I think Annie and Armin would be.. somewhat awkward, between each other. Since, she cares for him, a lot and.. betrayed him.) >Second, same scene where his identity is discovered and remains at the top of the staircase, but more or less breaks down because he doesn't know what is right anymore, he cares for his new found friends, the thought of betraying them crushes his heart, so he gives up and surrenders peacefully. >Third, transforms and makes a run for the walls to dip, which could ALSO go multiple ways, but.. I don't really have much on that. 2; Warriors Reveal, though Armin is now in the midst of it. I cannot see Armin ever betraying Paradis Island and trying to capture Eren (a second time, mind you), now that Reiner decided to reveal their identites to the same bloke he tried capturing too - yikes. Armin could very well try making them surrender, in a subtle way so the situation doesn't escalate, nor turn his own comrades against him. So, he tricks them and everyone. Transforming along the other two to capture Eren, only to fight Reiner along with Eren but obviously ending in failure with Bert's Titan crushing them. On one hand, I think Bert would try getting Armin, though Reiner is too focused on the mission, he ditches Armin and makes a run for it.

3; Armin still gets captured by the Opaki, though he saves Annie from being the one to be captured by it. As fun and simple it would be if she was the one to be yoinked, so they couldn't use the power of the Colossal and rescue her, I decided to go differently with this. While Armin does end up getting captured, he isn't terrified that he can't protect his people, that they need him, without him he'll die. No, he's accepting his fate. They have Annie, they can still blow up the Doomsday Titan and they'll all be fine, he may die but will die at least doing something right for them, finally doing something useful after betraying his friends, and putting his life down on the line, as their Commander.

(I also agree he'd still be the next Commander that Hange would put the title upon, so.. it sorta means a lot, like he finally is one of them in some way? - I dunno, spitballing!) But, ahaa.. Yeah, that isn't happening. Annie is not letting that blonde go, despite they have a clear winning shot here, she is not about to let him die. Not now, there is still more to be said to him, with how she feels. So, the mission of saving Armin is once more! AND, to end it off, I like to think he'd still be suicidal and jump for the Parasite to hold it down along with Reiner, even if there's a chance of him dying from the Colossal's explosion.

I apologise having to read this entire shit-show of ideas in your inbox, I doubt I'll do more to not seem too big of a yapper, but we'll see! I hope everything is going well for you, have a wonderful day/night! Now, I depart. Toodles!

Hello, Rux!!

Please, never apologize for sending an ask! I absolutely love hearing your ideas and I’m very happy to know the reverse AU still resonates with people :D

Okay, now let’s see:

1. I do prefer the second scenario in the staircase scene. Armin at this point has nothing waiting for him back in Marley and as a character he generally prefers ending conflicts with talking rather than fighting so I believe he’d rather strike a deal and resolve this through diplomacy. 

2. Now for the Warriors reveal… we do have to consider that this scene occurs very soon after Armin’s own reveal. Like it’s all happening within three days tops. There’s always the possibility that he’s too busy getting interrogated within an inch of his life to even attend these events. 

Personally, I’m more curious as to whether Reiner and Bertolt would attempt to convince Zeke to launch an operation to “rescue” Armin at that point, or write him off as a lost cause. I think there’s potential for drama and bitterness in both cases. In the first scenario, you have a Reiner who fought to save Armin getting betrayed by someone he considered his friend, while in the second scenario, you have an Armin even more estranged by his peers in Marley, sad and disappointed they never even cared for him. 

3. Here you’re gonna have to forgive me, because I respectfully disagree.

While Armin and Annie would absolutely act the way you described in the event of Armin getting captured by the Okapi Titan, I don’t see why the Founder Ymir would bother to kidnap him. In canon, she only does so because he’s the Colossus and is the only one with the power to stop Eren. So I’m afraid that our girl Annie would have to be the one getting choked by that tongue… (well that was a sentence I’d never thought I’d write xD)

As for the Commander part… I don’t know. On one hand, I do see how meaningful such a gesture would be from Hange, accepting Armin as one of their own wholeheartedly. On the other hand, the idea of an outsider coming in to “save” the Paradisians from their plight and lead them to the truth makes me feel kind of uncomfortable. 

Personally, because I’m a useless bisexual with a one track mind, I’d love to see how Commander Annie could work. At the very least I’d like to consider the possibility of her assuming a leadership role. She’s not an out of the box thinker like Armin in canon, but she is very practical and very decisive when it comes to battle. In another world, raised alongside Eren and Mikasa and not as confined by her father and her circumstances, I can see her developing a keen eye for solutions, maybe not outrageous strategies, but clean simple yet effective and devastating in their consequences plans. She’s ruthless, she’s perceptive and she’s willing to give up her life to achieve her means.

Honestly? I’d love to see it explored.

[sugolara]

All together

ft. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

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he walls being pounded into and the sounds of terrified cries. If they had time, they'd let them all out, but their safety wasn't their priority as Izuku and F/n could be dying any second.

They passed by the guards using the plants that began to harvest fruits. Their large bushes hid their figure and the thunder definitely helped as the guards had left when their radio signaled for backup. Faints of snarls could be heard, so it was no doubt that rotters had found their camp.

They hadn't even seen any rotters up until now and with the hills hiding the camp, it was no wonder why anyone hadn't even heard of this place.

When they made it to the building where they last saw F/n being dragged into, they used a staircase that led up to the window of the warehouse, most likely a tower for snipers. Quietly, Shoto climbed up, his shoes kicking against the metal made a clinking sound, but with the sky rumbling it overpowered the noise.

While Shoto went up, Katsukis stayed down next to the stairs, using his rifle that he had stolen from the males that he held captive earlier. He stayed in one of the corners, ears listening on anything that could be identified as footsteps. He'd peek around, spotting a few men walking by with their cigarettes lit. When they left, he reached into his bag to pull out firecrackers, waiting for Shoto's signal.

Squinting, the scar male peeked down and finally did he see her with Izuku as well. At their sight, he gave a signal and Katsuki lit up the firework before throwing it to building B. The comotion had caused for the men around to go look and while the butchers inside the warehouse confusingly gave each other a look, Shoto took it upon himself to fire his sniper, successfully hitting the one with a machete.

As thunder came back, the door to the warehouse was opened and at the sight of Katsuki, Izuku felt relieved. The other innocent people were scared, especially when the next butcher was shot, falling directly in front of one of them.

"How the hell did you get caught up in this shit, Deku?" The blonde mumbled as he removed ties. The cloth around his mouth was next and Izuku let out a sigh of relief, "Oh, I'm so glad to see you, Kacchan."

The blonde scoffed before moving to F/n. Another set of firecrackers were heard just as Shoto entered the building. He closed it behind him as he looked at the three with an eager look, "Hurry up. That won't distract them for long."

"Wait!" Izuku grabbed a gun from Shoto as he looked at the others, "What about them?"

"What about them?" Katsuki mumbled as he dragged F/n, who refused to get her senses back.

"We can't just leave them here!" Izuku yelled as he went to one of them before untying them, "They're a victim in this too. Get F/n to wake up, I think they hurt her badly!"

Shoto and Katsuki shared a look, before the scar male quickly went to help Izuku. While he did so, Katsuki shook the girl, hoping it would wake her up, but she'd just let out incoherent mumbling with eyes twitching, "Wake the fuck up!"

Hearing men arguing outside and gunshots firing, Katuski impatiently looked at her, his eyes looking at her face, then to her lips that would twitch ever so often, daring to pull into a smile. At the sound of the doors banging, Katsuki raised his hand, before slapping her awake and while his heart sped, so did the girl as finally woke up, hands touching her cheek as she mumbled out a groan.

"Seriously?" Shoto said, giving him a look.

"Whatever." Katsuki let her go as she was able to get up.

She held onto her cheek as she looked around, "How long was I out?"

"Long enough." Shoto shoved her a gun, pointing at the other terrified people, "They're on their own, just like we are. We need to get out before things worsen."

"...Agreed." Izuku did not want to leave them, but he had no choice as gunshots were being fired. If luck was on their side, they'd live.

Finding a backdoor, they all headed for it and while Shoto gave the occasional glare when someone would cry, Katsuki took a peek out and to his surprise, rotters had infiltrated the place. Strangely enough, they used it to their advantage as he quickly gave them a signal when to run, then did they run.

They didn't worry about the rest as the main three followed after Katsuki. They came to a stop where they took down rotters and when the first male of the camp came, F/n did not hesitate to shoot, "You guys know what's going on with this place?"

"I think it's pretty obvious, F/n." Izuku pointed out, "They kill people."

"Yeah, and among other things." Shoto eyed her, ignoring her confused look.

"Hurry up." Katsuki said as they headed for one of the buildings that stored guns. Thankfully, the rotters were their distraction as they entered the building. It was quiet, different from the chaos outside. The people that were behind them had gotten lost, but it's not like the group was their ticket out.

"How long has this been going on?" Izuku asked as he reached for one of the tables, picking up a dirty teddy bear. Next to it was a frame of a family. When he saw his stuff, he wasted no time in taking it back.

"Since the beginning." Shoto said as he wasted no time in grabbing the weapons. F/n also helped him out, despite the fact that she wasn't allowed to hold more than two guns, but she knew that they didn't have time to argue.

Just like the two, Katsuki filled his bag with ammo, however, at the sight of a grenade as well as smoke grenade, a grin pulled to his lips. Picking it up like a feather, Katsuki turned to them, "I just found a way out."

The freckled male widened his eyes in fear for his friend as any mistake they could all blow up, "Kacchan, you don't know how to use that."

"Should be easy, right?" A thunder was hit, making F/n grit her teeth as she stared at the blonde. "If this was a movie, it'd be easy."

"Don't blow yourself up." Shot pulled his bag over his shoulders, reaching for another one. Though before the blonde could bite back, yelling could be heard on the other side. It sounded to many, but F/n couldn't tell as it had begun to pour down.

"Kacchan." Izuku uncertainty said, "If you're going to use it, be careful. We'll give you a signal."

Although even holding the grenade had him feeling nervous, he nodded as the others placed themself away from him, dumping tables of items as their cover. Looking back at Izuku who gave gum a thumbs up, the blonde quickly removed its pin before throwing it at the main doors and running to his friends.

With the ground rumbling, he threw the smoke grenade, causing the yells to get louder. Using the smoke, they cleared their way out, following Katuski once again. It had gotten pretty close that Izuku had gotten shot, but thankfully F/n had shoved him before another wound could impale him.

Finally did the fence of where the blonde had cut came into a view. Annoyingly, with the rain coming down it had caused for the hills to be muddy, having Katsuki trip multiple times. When they reached the top, they looked down to see the camp and while Izuku did feel bad about leaving the innocents to die, he had to tell himself that not everything in life was fair. And he knew all that too well.

"Over here." Shoto called out to them as he got into the vehicle that they had stolen from the men. Speaking of them, it seemed they managed to get away as their bodies were gone. It did not worry Shoto as they soon left, leaving the camp to drown in its revenge.

"Damn it." F/n let out a frustrated sigh as she pulled to the side of the road, before the car came to a stop. It's been a while, a long while, since they had escaped and the gloomy sky had turned dark.

Nexto to her, Izuku worriedly eyed her. Her jacket that was supposed to be on her, but instead she placed it on him to keep warm, "No more gas?"

"Yeah." She looked ahead, the dark road displaying nothing but acres of trees, "Now what?"

The freckle male glanced at the backseat where Shoto and Katsuki slept. He then glanced outside though it was too dark for his eyes to see, "Maybe we should sleep it off here."

"That's a stupid idea." She mumbled, but realizing what she let out she shook her head to herself, "I didn't mean tha-"

"I get it." He offered her a smile, almost like he was reading her. She was tired and so was he. Any plans of being out in the open was a ridiculous one and he knew that, but he wanted to make the best out of a situation. Besides, they escaped what could have been a painful death, "We need to be somewhere safe instead of being stranded and with the rain still coming down hard, we'll be drenched before we even reach a place."

She stared at his smile before looking away. How he could smile in a situation like this will always be a thing she admired of him, "Actually, it's starting to sprinkle."

He hummed, "Oh, yeah."

She was thankful that the thunder died out hours ago, "Did you reopen it?"

"Huh?" He looked at her and she pointed to her shoulder. He pulled the neck part of his short down, looking at the bandage, "it's just a little dirty. Doesn't look too bad. And your nose?"

"Nothing new." She nodded at that, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel as silence washed over them. Surprisingly, it was a comfortable silence, but enough with wasting time. She opened the door, confusing Izuku, "Wake them up."

He quickly followed after her with her jacket in hand, looking at her with a frantic look, "Y-you're not really going to look by yourself, are you? You'll get sick!"

She looked at him like he grew two heads, "You kidding? Even I know I'm not that dumb enough to go out. I'd probably die."

His heart eased a little, "But, still, if we go out now, we don't know what we could be heading for. We could be getting far from...Sorston."

"Izuku." She narrowed her eyes, and he'd be lying if his heart did not speed up at her tone, "It's better than being left out here. Besides, I have a map and I've been following it since we left that shithole."

"You could have mentioned that first." He mumbled, but her words still did not relief him. The door to the backseat opened, startling Izuku as Shoto came out, glancing at them both, not missing his friend holding her jacket, "What's going on?"

"Car ran out of gas." She opened the trunk, grabbing the bags.

"Is Kacchan awake?" Izuku asked after he handed the girl her jacket back. He had forgotten he was holding onto it until he saw Shoto's eyes flicker towards it.

"No." He shook his head, "He's drooling."

"Oh." he mumbled out, before leaving to wake up his childhood friend.

"Where are we walking to?" Shoto helped her, leaving the bag of guns to her. Their trust was slightly getting there.

"To a town not too far from here." She looked at him, "It's the best plan I got."

"Best plan?" He raised a brow at her, expecting she had come up with something else.

"Well, it's either that or we sit here and wait for a horde to come up and kill us all before we get to live our happily ever after that leaves us driving off to the sunset." She shrugged "Quite frankly, I'm not ready to die, yet."

He gave her a deadpan look before staring at an angry blonde. "If you had let me drive I would have got us there quicker."

"Without a map?" Shoto crossed his arms when the blonde rolled his eyes at him and pointed at Fn. "That she fucking stole from me."

He then yanked her bag of guns, "Which way are we going?"

"Up your ass is where we're going." She glared at him, grabbing her guns back.

"Please, I'm tired." Izuku croaked out as he looked at Shoto, hoping he would deescalate the situation, but he instead looked with an amused face.

The blonde threateningly pointed at her as she walked off, the rest shortly following. They stayed close as anything could come out from the shadows.

Hugging himself, Izuku shivered as a chill crawled up his spine, "Maybe we can find a clothing store. It's starting to get cold."

"Winter's coming." Shoto hummed out.

"I don't feel jack." Katstuki said with his eyes staring ahead.

"That's 'cause you're wearing a thick ass jacket." F/n replied.

"You are getting on my last fucking nerves." The blonde angrily muttered as sleep was getting to him. 

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg - chapter 1.3

"so eager to be in a headlock again?"

"only if it's by you."

he thought he was done with the criminal life and ready for some peace and quiet. but his plans collapsed in the form of a strange girl who was in trouble.

© 2023 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to lovers s2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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It was way after midnight, when a knock on the door made the three women perk up from their seats around the room of the hide-out, waiting for any signs of the guys.

"Valentine, we know you're in there! Open the door!" a strong male voice suddenly rang from the other side, making Soyeon and Cassandra tense with fear of having been caught when Arabella simply waved them off with a knowing look. Walking to the door and crossing her arms. She coughed then.

"H-hello, who is it?" she said in a cranky weak voice. Mimicking an old woman. She peaked through the spyhole, giggling when seeing Jimin's dumbfounded expression. He wasn't the only one who could mess around with the other.

"Bella, open the door," he whined then, getting impatient, "I know it's you!"

She pursed her lips, unlocking the door and assuming a look of innocence again. "Suits you right for always trying messing with me," she huffed when opening it. Making him laugh lightly.

"That's the least I can do since you keep ignoring my concerns of you getting in danger," he shrugged then. "You know I don't want you to act on your own."

"I wasn't on my own. I got some friends helping me."

Her boyfriend gave her a look of pity, stifling a chuckle. "You don't have any friends, my love."

"Hey! What am I then?" A voice that sounded highly offended, was heard from further down the apartment. And he recognised it. His forehead ceased as he stepped inside. Only now spotting the other two girls there. Cassandra giving him a scowl while Soyeon was awkwardly waving at him. And his eyes widened, taken-aback as those two were the last people he'd expected to meet there. "Oh!"

His eyes then went back to his girlfriend, giving her a puzzled look when steps were heard on the staircase. "Ya, Jimin!" Taehyung whisper-shouted then when finally reaching the top of the stairs, "Why are you standing there?" Behind his broad shoulders, Yoongi peeked his head from the side. Both wondering why Jimin was standing there at the entrance hall and not getting inside.

"Did your little prank not work?" the older guy teased as both walked up to him. Their chuckles soon dying down when reaching him and seeing the reason themselves. And the door slowly closed behind them.

"Cassandra, what the hell are you doing here?"

Taehyung was the first one to speak up, clicking his tongue as he frowned at his wife. Causing her to pout. He sighed then when seeing he wasn't getting any answer, turning to Arabella. "Why did you let her come here?"

"Hey, this was not my idea!" the dyed-brunette defended herself. "She blackmailed me!"

"Leave Bella alone," Cassandra interfered then and got up, "I'm an adult and make decisions myself. Bella warned me but it was me who insisted on tagging along."

"Uhm, same for me," Soyeon said then, glancing at the copper-haired girl for a second before also standing up to back her up. "She tried holding us back but we wouldn't."

"That's actually quite cute," Jimin mumbled then with a smile before noticing Taehyung side-eyeing him evily. And he folded his lips, quickly adding, "B-but also very reckless of you."

Yoongi remained quiet all this time. His expression collected contrary to Taehyung's furious one, brown irises on the black-haired girl who was avoiding his glance.

"I assume that fire alarm in the evening that left us all drenched was your doing then." The three nodded. 

"It was the distraction to slide the weapons to you through the door."

"So.." He motioned with his chin to Cassandra and Soyeon. "..does that mean you two helped Arabella in returning our weapons?"

"Actually.." the two older girls exchanged a look, before looking at Soyeon. "I only did the technical part, you know, security cameras, giving directions, creating fake IDs, setting off the alarm for distraction.." Arabella grinned at Jimin then. "So I kept my promise of staying out of danger."

Rolling his eyes, Jimin huffed out a dry laugh. "It's something I guess." He lightly poked her bump then. "But next time stay completely out of it. Okay?" He gave her a pleading smile to which she pouted, mumbling a small 'okay'.

"And I only went to the evidence storage and got the weapons out by putting them into the vent.." Cassandra mumbled then, scratching her arm. She knew that saying it quietly and downplaying it probably wouldn't be enough to distract from how risky her part indeed was and yet, she tried it. Only to obviously fail as Taehyung let out a loud snort. Getting more upset at the thought of her doing all that.

"Seriously? That's one of the most difficult parts and you're unexperienced!"

"Bella couldn't do it because of all the new security measures," Cassandra protested, getting sulkier as she knew he was right but didn't want to admit it, "So yeah, I wanted to help. You got a problem?"

Her challenging look made Taehyung purse his lips. Their intense staring battle making everyone grow quiet, looking at them expectedly. Eventually, he dragged a sigh and gave in, knowing his girl's stubborness too well. "Fine." He walked up to her then, flicking his finger on her forehead then with a grin. She flinched, rubbing the spot while looking at him puzzled. "But this was the first and only time you do something like this. Got it?"

The red-head puffed her cheeks. "Don't tell me what to do.." she mumbled then, causing him to roll his eyes annoyed. 

"New security measures?" Yoongi wondered out loud then in hopes of shifting the subject as that statement had sparkled his own curiosity, "There were more than just the different detention area?"

"Yeah," Arabella slowly nodded then, "Everyone entering a new area was getting checked for any disguises and had to enter codes."

"What would you've done if those two didn't tag along though?"

"I'd have obviously found another way in, like I always do!" she scoffed, folding her arms offended by him implying she'd need help to break in anywhere. Because she didn't and she had originally planned to do it on her own anyway.

"But wait," Taehyung's brows furrowed and he faced Soyeon, "And what did you do?"

Soyeon's eyes widened. She knew her part was probably the most risky one and the thought of Yoongi's reaction to hearing it, terrified her in a way. Her eyes unintentionally peeking at him, catching him staring at her with a questioning look as well.

He might get terribly angry at her. Even if not as much as Taehyung about his wife partaking in this since her and Yoongi weren't nearly as close. It still concerned her. Because depending on how he took the information, he might not want to have anything to do with her anymore.

"I.. I was the one sneaking into the basement area with the fake ID and giving you your weapons.."

Yoongi's breath hinched at this, his eyes falling to the ground. Jaw clenching.

He didn't say anything, growing silent while everyone else was talking across each other then. Not noticing her worrying over the guy who was quietly standing there, avoiding her gaze.

Was he disappointed in her? She couldn't tell.

Honestly, she might've preferred him yelling at her instead.

"Anyway," Jimin spoke up then, clapping his hands and catching everyone's attention. Pointing with his thumb towards the door, "We should get going soon before they notice our absence." He glanced at his watch then. 2:01am. "We got four hours before their patrol time."

"You actually managed escaping without them noticing?" Soyeon asked surprised, to which Taehyung and Jimin laughed, grinning proudly.

"Of course, we ain't thieves for nothing." And with their guns and Yoongi's sword it really wasn't hard. "But that means we don't have much time left." 

They began disgussing possible escape plans to flee the country when Soyeon felt a hand wrap around her wrist, tugging her to another room.

The door closed softly and behind her stood Yoongi. A stoic look on his face.

"So what's your excuse?"

Swallowing, her mind went blank in the attempt to shape any cohesive sentences to defend herself. "My excuse?" she eventually said confused to buy herself some time.

"Yeah, your excuse for doing something irrational as this."

Neither his voice nor his eyes gave off the impression of him being genuinely mad at her. No, they were calm and if she hadn't noticed him pressing his jaw together, she'd have thought he was unaffected by it all. "If it's because I helped you back in Italy - I didn't do it expecting a favour from you. Especially not this kind of favour."

"I know."

She knew he'd never expect anything in return. The girls had told her about the numerous times he'd helped his friends without any questions or favours asked. And she knew he never expected anything back when risking his retirement and life for her either.

And perhaps this was why she felt obligated to do it. Because he deserved others risking it all for him as well.

She watched his brows furrow at her answer. Showing a sign of distress after all. "Then why did you?"

"I could ask you the same," she countered. Feeling quite accomplished when noticing he wasn't going to use his go-to reply. His lips only parted, as if he wanted to say something after all but couldn't bring himself to. Looking away instead.

"I.. I asked first," he mumbled eventually. A gentle smile curving on her lips at his childish act of avoiding answering.

Soyeon wasn't certain where her sudden burst of confidence came from. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe the adrenaline still rushing through her veins. Maybe the fact she was alone with him again for the first time in almost a week. She breathed then, holding his steady eyes with care. "I guess.. we do irrational things for the person we care about. And I care about you. Because.. because you mean something to me. Something I can’t really put into words yet."

A short huff left his lips as they tried their best not to curl into a smile. She wouldn't get away with it so easily, he wouldn't just let it slide. Or let it get into his head, the fact she had just admitted to having feelings for him.

"That's a pretty dumb reason, still."

"It's good enough for me though."

His irises met her feline eyes. It felt as if someone slapped him across his face, feeling a sudden rush spreading inside his chest. And he stepped forward to close the gap between them. Cupping her cheeks and lightly squeazing them between his warm palms. Making a little pout appear on her cherry-lips. Her heart racing faster against her chest as she held his gaze. Getting lost in it.

His eyes flickered over her face then, over the healing wound that would hopefully not turn into a scar, her sparkly eyes, her rosy cheeks, her plush lips. Lingering on the latter a bit longer.

"Maybe I did it for the same reason," he breathed then. Seeing her eyes widening, blood rushing through her veins. "Did you?"

He bit back a smile, caressing her cheek with a thumb. "I did."

He leaned down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushed feather-light against her face, caught in her lashes. Everything around them falling apart when his lips met hers. 

They had kissed before, but this time felt different. It felt deep and desperate. Determined and fierce. Soft and gentle. Everything all at once. Pulling the air from her lungs. And she gave into it,  her body reacted instinctively as it remembered the touch of his lips. Pulling him closer and returning the kiss with equal passion.

Feeling her small hands gripping on the fabric around his waist brought him back to his senses as he'd got lost in the taste of her for a moment.

He retreated for a fraction of an inch, still close enough so she could feel his warm breath on her lips. He was breathing heavily. She carefully blinked her eyes open, seeing him already looking at her. Voice filled with sorrow at his following words.

"I'm gonna miss you."

And Soyeon's heart burst inside her ribcage. Reality crushing down like a sudden downpour. No, like a wave hitting the shore.

This had been a goodbye kiss.

He was returning to Taiwan, while she had to stay back in Seoul.

And tears formed in her eyes at the realisation of the situation.

"Silly girl, why are you crying?" he whispered. Not able hiding his own sadness in his eyes.

"I'm gonna miss you, too."

He nodded quietly, wiping the tears from her flushed cheek. "It's better like this, trust me."

"I highly doubt it," she smiled in agony.

He dragged a sigh. "You are better off without someone like me. You deserve a normal life, Soyeon. A happy life. Not a chaotic one."

"I can make my own decisions," she quietly said, repeating Cassandra's words from earlier, "I could just come with you if I wanted.."

"You don't want that." He shook his head lightly, disapproval in his expression. "If you disappeared now, they'd know you were involved in this."

Truthfully, she hadn't thought of that possibility. However, did she even care at this point?

"S-so what?"

"Don't - don't do something you might regret later just for me."

Her lips pressed into a thin line when another silent tear rolled down her flushed cheek.

"It's okay," he said then. His smile not meeting his eyes. "You got your life here. Your job, your family, your friends. You'll get over it."

"I don't -" she choked out, more tears threatening to escape, "I don't wanna get over you."

And he looked at her with equal anguish in his eyes because truth was, he didn't want to get over her either. But he knew he eventually had to, it was better this way. Even when his chest was burning with ache.

And in a swift move he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Crandling her body against his as tightly as he could. A lump forming in his throat, hindering him from saying anything that was on his mind. And he felt her sobs against his chest while her own arms embraced him, clutching onto him. Making everything hurt only more.

"Yoongi? Where are you guys? We need to head to Incheon, there's a ship leaving in two hours for Keelung!"

He swallowed when hearing his friend's voice calling for him from the other side of the door and he stepped back. Placing a gentle kiss on the wound on her forehead. Yoongi didn't want to kiss her goodbye, he wanted to kiss her goonight - there was a huge difference. But he couldn't allow himself to.

And she breathed in his scent for the last time, trying memorising it along with the warmth of his body for the many sleepless nights that she was sure would follow. 

"Goodbye, Yoongi."

"Goodbye, angel."

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The cold sea wind brushed over Yoongi's tired face which was resting on his folded arms on the railing, tousling his long strands. Absentmindedly, he was staring at the infinite black and blue. The early morning hours added a gloomy colour to the cloudy sky and his soul. 

They'd need over a day to reach Taiwan by ship, but considering they had stolen someone else's reservation on that cruise ship, misleading them into thinking te trip was canceled and security measures weren't as strict as at airports - with far less cameras around as well - interpol most likely wouldn't find out they had chosen that rather old-school and slow method to get back. At least they hoped they wouldn't do so in time.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the cold metal bars. About to go back inside and escape the numbing chilliness of the open sea, when he spotted Taehyung approaching him. Hands shoved in his pockets as he came to a halt beside him. Eyes staring out into the sea.

"Couldn't sleep either?" the younger man asked then. To which Yoongi only dragged a sigh.

"Not really, no."

Taehyung hummed, inspecting him carefully before his gaze returned to the sea. "You know, I understand why you did it."

"Did what?"

"Broke things off with her before it developed to something more." It wasn't hard to tell why Yoongi was so restless. Taehyung might not have been as great in analysing people and seeing right through them as Jimin, but it hadn't been hard for him to tell something was off when Yoongi and Soyeon had come out of that room. It'd been written all over their faces, their red eyes giving it away.

Taehyung's gaze then fell on the waves underneath them, created by the ship as the older guy remained silent. "Remember I did the same with Cas back then. Or at least tried to.. Although you have a benefit I didn't have at that time."

Yoongi's brow perked up at this, glancing at him curiously. "Which is?"

His lips pulled into a wide lopsided smirk. "You aren't an active criminal anymore, living a peaceful life in a country interpol can't catch you. I didn't have that back then."

His friend shrugged, not really seeing the benefit in that. "My life might not be as dangerous as it used to anymore. And the danger this time came from her side, not mine. But still.. you can't predict what might happen. With people like us.. do we ever truly retire?" He glanced at him and Taehyung caught the glimpse of a tear in his eyes. "And I couldn't ask her to just throw away her life back there, just to come with me and see where things might go. Because it might not go anywhere in the end and what then?" He let out a dry laugh. "Then she'd have thrown her life away for nothing."

"You ain't 'nothing' though," Taehyung replied with a stern tone, patting his shoulder, "And I don't think she'd have risked getting involved in this if there was nothing."

Licking over his cold lips, Yoongi let out a sarcastic hum. He knew Soyeon's reason. She had told him after all, but he didn't plan to simply share it with everyone. It'd feel like boasting and he didn't want that. Because it didn't change his mind. He didn't want her to endanger herself like this for him, no matter her feelings.

"Whatever her reason was," he carefully spoke up then, "It was still reckless."

"Oh, definitely!" Taehyung exclaimed, chuckling, "I'm still hella mad at Cas about it. But what happened, happened. I only hope I'll never get nicked like this again. Knowing her she might do it again now that she tasted blood."

"Guess that's the minus of having a wife who's so enthusiastic about that profession."

Taehyung laughed under his breath. "Hm, her reason was quite childish actually," he said amused, "Arabella told her Soyeon persisted in helping. So Cas got a lil' jealous and wanted to join as well. You'd think a grown-ass medical doctor wouldn't behave like a child.. anyway." He shook his head with a half-hearted laugh, still mad whenever he reminded himself about it. And yet, he couldn't deny how much he admired his girl's braveness. And it also flattered him how Cassandra had risked getting caught to save him, just like he'd do for her.

Yoongi remained silent. His gaze wandering to the raising sun somewhere behind the horizon. Tinting the clouds in specks of orange.

All this time he'd assumed Soyeon had only agreed on this because of the other two women. He never thought she'd actually been the one initiating it, even persuading Cassandra to it. Proving to be a far better and selfless person than he already knew she was. And still, it didn't change anything. Her life was in Seoul, his was in Tainan.

Maybe in another life, a different universe, where he was a music producer also living a normal life in Seoul, they could be together. And that thought somewhat comforted him when he returned to his cabin. Falling asleep to the thought of her.

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next chapter: 1.4 here

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡

It motivates me to keep writing :)

[someonexsomeone]

James

Title: James

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: It's hard being a teenager, especially when it comes to love as a werewolf.

Authors Note: i am actually doing it holy shit. Day 2 of Laufey fest and I'm so excited to keep going. Did this take me longer than I wished? Yes. Did I review it? Absolutely not. Good luck readers, I think this one is a hot mess lmaoo

Of all the secrets that infested Hogwarts, from hidden passageways and secret alcoves meant for ‘private’ moments between lovers to the hidden chamber beneath their very feet that contained a monster no one could ever imagine, there was only one that seemed to constantly be at the forefront of everyone’s minds: where would the Marauders strike next. To be fair, though they were troublemakers through and through, there were very few people outside of Slytherin that would warrant a direct attack from the band of troublemakers. A direct attack, by most standards, was more karmic punishment than anything else. Besides, who would want to purposely get on the bad side of the infamous Marauders? 

Alas, there was nothing to do about the random victims that found themselves at the end of a prank meant to simply disrupt the student body, or, merlin forgive, meant for someone else. After a few trouble incidents, the Marauders knew when something would be too much, too dangerous, to play on anyone but each other (or those who really deserved it). Things like color-changing robes or gravity-defying hair did little to hurt the actual human, and, although embarrassing, no one would complain they were genuinely injured by being followed by a group of singing paper frogs. Dung bombs were a common occurrence, though mainly in abandoned classrooms just to cause a little ruckus, and sticking charms worked wonderfully when getting an entire house to topple over their Great Hall bench. Even McGonagall couldn’t help her lips from twitching when the main staircase turned into a waterslide, students finding themselves wet but full of laughter once they safely reached the bottom. Taking away their wands did little to stop them when shortly after that incident, a mob of first years came wailing into her office about a were-rabbit that ate first years who didn’t jumps in a circle three times before leaving the dorms.

Harmless, but fun, seemed to be the motto for them, but for most of the students, it was always a safe bet to be amicable but keep a fair distance. Once a Marauder set their eyes on you, who knows what the outcome could be?

Naturally, that outcome was worth the risk for several students who were just dying to get the chance to be with a Marauder, no matter the risk of jinxes.

Sirius Black, the most infamous of the lot, took to the attention with a blinding smile. That smile was enough to charm a hippogryph into bowing first, and did he know it. Not only was it nigh impossible to get him to confess to any prank he didn’t want to take credit for, but the Slytherin in him somehow managed to get the conversation to completely flip in his favor without breaking a sweat. He took pride in his executions of plans and used his influence to openly flirt with anyone he deemed fit (to be fair, anyone he deemed fit ranged from people he actually fancied, random students he hardly knew, and enemies he just couldn’t help flustering in the worst way). Students flocked to him without much prodding.

Peter Pettigrew, on the other hand, found it impossible to conjure a powerful enough hex to noticeably make a difference in a fight, let alone speak to a woman without getting tongue-tied. That didn’t stop his own little group of admirers, though most liked him because of his connection to the other three.

James Potter was as handsome as he was brash, as loyal as he was loud. His smile was blinding, his jokes quickwitted, and magically powerful to boot. It was no secret he was the unnamed leader of his friends, at least to those outside his inner circle, and his bravado certainly did nothing to stop the rumors about his position. Despite his undying love for one Lily Evans, he was constantly swarmed with students wanting to be close to him, in either admiration or lust. It didn’t help that he was Quidditch Captain as well, soaring through the air with his untamable hair whipping around behind him. 

And then there was Remus Lupin, an enigma to those outside his social circle, but a treasure within. Most found it hard to understand how a kind, gentle-mannered student came to be friends with the likes of the other three, but a single moment alone with the four of them was enough to see how his eye lit up with mischief, how he was the first to enter a suspicious hallway, how he really was the brains of the operation. His mile-high stack of books was just a cover for the smaller notebooks hidden within, detailing pranks and planning for the best moment to attack. Though he didn't have many friends outside the Marauders, and those that were close to the other three, only a fool couldn’t see the line of people just waiting for him to open his barriers just a little to let them in. 

So, when sixth year approached and the usual quiet Gryffindor was seen chatting enthusiastically with someone in the library, the ruckus it caused amongst the student body was nearly enough of a distraction from the paint-exploding bubbles that had shown up in the Potions hallway the day before.

“Look what you’ve done now, Moony,” Sirius remarked, faining disappointment, “and after knowing how hard James and I worked to get those up before breakfast.” Remus furrowed his brow.

“What are you talking about?” Sirius sniggered.

“Don’t play daft, you silly wolf. We know all about your secret randevu in the library.” When Remus continued to look at him quizzically, Sirius’ smirk dropped. “Wait, you really don’t know?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Remus, don’t play dumb. Norman said Wilkins said Lawson said Grant saw you snogging someone in the library near the restricted section!” Remus immediately blushed bright red, whipping his head around before pulling Sirius into an alcove. Sirius’ smirk returned.

“Where in the hell did you hear that? How-when…no, it doesn’t matter. How many people heard that?”

“Come off it, Mooneykins.” Sirius patted his arm condescendingly. “You don’t have to keep a secret anymore. I do have to say I’m a bit disappointed I had to learn from bloody Norman that you’ve got yourself a secret shag, but if it was going to be anyone it would be her. Can’t keep a thing to herself can she-” He paused abruptly when Remus grabbed his shoulders.

“I’m serious”

“Actually, I’m Sirius.” When Remus didn’t even give him a goodnatured huff, Sirius frowned. “What’s going on? I understand if you want to keep it a secret-”

“That’s not it!” Sirius jumped at the urgency in his voice. “Oh, no, no, no. This is just awful.”

“Remus, mate, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t kiss anyone, I promise.” Sirius’ shoulders deflated a bit. As happy as he was for his friend to have found someone, he did admit a small portion of himself was upset Remus hadn’t told any of them. “The library…I’ve become study partners with someone from my arithmancy class. It was Professor Grant’s idea to have designated study partners for the class since there are so few of us this year.” Remus finally let Sirius go, rubbing his upper arm absentmindedly. Sirius eyed the action; the full moon was fast approaching. “I-uh. I’ve enjoyed it so far.”

“Oh? What’s this? My devious little Moon Pie has a crush on someone?” Remus flushed, and this time Sirius could tell this time it was out of embarrassment. “Oh, just wait until James finds out. You will have a partner by the end of this term, Moony, just you wait.”

“No!” Remus yelped, stopping Sirius from leaving their hiding spot. Sirius raised his brow. “You-you can’t tell James.”

“Why the hell not?” Remus looked down, looking ever the kicked puppy. Sirius pursed his lips, looking him up and down once before understanding flashed behind his eyes. “Oh. You’ve got yourself in quite the pickle here.”

“Tell me about it,” Remus huffed. “But, it’s not what you think. You know how James is, ever the unobservant one when a prank is getting set up. It was an accident, but he managed to stop it just in time and save the day.” Sirius had never heard the bitter tone come from his friend the way it had as he spoke the last few words. “Besides, who would ever want to date a monster like-.” Sirius raised his brow.

“How bad are we talking?” Remus looked at him strangely, though he was used to his friends cutting him off when he got too self-deprecating. “I need to know if this person is just using you to get to James, Remus, before I decide to hex them into oblivion.”

“No! Nothing like that!” Remus shook his head, though his smile had a little bit of gratitude in it. “It-It’s just studying. James has never really been brought up, except by me.”

“So they’re one of the good ones, then?” Remus nodded. “That’s good to hear.”

“Wait…wait, wait, what is that look? I don’t like that look.” Sirius’ face was curling so much Remus worried it would curl into itself. “Pads, please, don’t do anything foolish.”

“Me?” Sirius did not have the right to look so offended. “Come off it, Moony. When have I ever been foolish?” 

Remus grumbled under his breath, but did nothing to stop his friend from throwing an arm around his shoulder, pulling him along to the Great Hall. Their late arrival caused James and Peter to raise a brow at them, but thankfully, Sirius kept his mouth shut (though he hadn’t wiped away that smug and devious smile). Remus would only have to keep his partner - study partner, he reminded himself - away from his friends until they grew bored and found something else to entertain them.

And he was right, for the most part. Almost exactly a month had passed since Sirius and Remus’ conversation in the hall, and there didn’t seem to be any moves to embarrass him in front of the first person he decided to open himself up to. They continued to meet at their regular time, bumping up their biweekly meetings to three times a week much to his glee, and besides catching James and Sirius snickering while looking at him, or the much-unappreciated stopovers at his table during said study time, they hadn’t done anything to raise alarm. That didn’t mean Remus was any less tense during meetups, just in case one of those idiots decided to let things slip.

“Are you okay, Remus?” The question startled him, his eyes raising from the paper he was practically glaring into. You were looking at him with pinched brows, your lips upticked in a gentle smile. He could tell the expectant way you were looking at him meant you had said something he didn’t hear.

“What?” You gestured gently to his hand, which was curled so tightly around his quill it was nearly bent. “Oh! Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. But, are you? Okay, I mean.”

“Yeah. Yes,” he said, waving his hand gently to placate you. Although your smile didn’t change, you returned to your work, letting him think in peace. His face flushed lightly. How dare he sit here and think the things he was when you were so innocently sitting across from him, not a clue in the world? He felt dirty. Yes, he was on edge because he hadn’t seen James or Sirius since this morning, not since they parted ways after a breakfast where they insisted on whispering secretly to one another. The full moon was far too close for Remus to get involved in something mischievous, using most of his brain power to tame the beast within him. There were moments though, moments where his wolf's thoughts and his were so close he couldn’t stop them from overlapping in his mind. Even now, as you so innocently leaned closer to look over the book in front of him, his mind was overrun with thoughts of pressing his face into your neck and finally, finally, getting a whiff of your scent uninterrupted by the other teenage hormones around them that he had to suffer through all day. He indulged himself in just the smallest of imaginations, thinking what he could do if you weren’t in the library full of other students-

“Are you sure you’re okay, Remus?” He shivered at the way you said his name. “Because I wouldn’t mind taking a little break.” His smile turned soft at your kindness.

“That’s probably a good idea,” he whispered, setting his pen down despite not having used it for the last ten or so minutes. “I’m…uh-just a little distracted today.”

“I get days like that too. And it’s no help when focusing is on arithmancy, of all things.” His heart fluttered, his inner wolf growling. “What would you like to talk about instead?”

“How has your day been?” You laughed lightly. Remus never seemed to want to talk about himself, always nudging you to talk instead or simply talking about what his other friends were up to. Baby steps, you thought to yourself, one day you’ll get there with him.

“It’s been alright. I got an E on that potions paper you helped me with, thank you again by the way, and my roommates and I were thinking a Honeydukes run is in order for our next Hogsmeade trip. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can get you while we’re there?” You wanted to invite Remus to go with you and your friends, but he declined with a frown, stating he wasn’t going able to leave the castle the coming weekend to due plans. With whom, you didn’t know, but Remus missing a Hogsmeade trip usually meant the Marauders were up to no good, and a trip to the Hospital Wing was already penciled into your plans come Sunday.

“That’s great news on the paper! I knew you could do it, you just needed a little push in confidence. You’re very talented, even Slughorn knows it.” You blushed at his praise. “Thank you again for the offer, but I can’t let you do that for you. I always have next trip.”

“If you’re sure…” Your voice trailed off, before you jumped a little in your seat. “By the way, did you say anything to James about…us?” All at once, his heart fell then leaped.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“He came up to me this morning and introduced himself.” Remus shared your bewildered look. “I was equally as confused. I know he’s never said anything directly to me when he comes to talk to you, but at least he would mention me vaguely being there. So, I was just wondering if there was something he was playing at.” Remus couldn’t help the fond smile twitch the corner of his mouth.

“James is always up to something.” Then, he frowned. “But why would he introduce himself to you? Why now?”

“That’s what I was wondering.” Your cheeks blushed slightly. “I was worried that he was going to bring up how I used to feel, so I ran away quickly after that.” Before he could even think about, let alone form words to ask what you meant by ‘used to’, a hand clapped him on the shoulder, then another right after. You both jumped.

“Ah, there he is! The pride and joy of Gryffindor house, our lovely genius, Remus.” Sirius’ smirk could be heard without him even turning around. On his other side, James leaned down so they were face to face.

“You don’t mind if I borrow your…absolutely lovely study partner, do you, Moony?” Remus’ brow raised. “I just have something I want to ask.”

“Ask?” Both you and Remus spoke at the same time.

“Come on, Moonykins, let’s give the lovebirds some space.” Sirius’ remark made Remus whip his head back and forth, looking between the three people surrounding him.

“Love birds?” James smirked lightly.

“Well, cats out of the bag, I supposed. What do you say, darling? I’ve seen the way you are around our Moony and I have to say I’m a bit jealous. Won’t you ease my breaking heart and join me for some time alone at Hogsmeade?”

“James…” Remus’ voice was low, dangerous, more so than you had ever heard it. You made eye contact with Sirius, who looked just as alarmed. James, on the other hand, just smiled brightly, meeting Remus’ glare head-on.

“You haven’t staked your claim on this one yet, right?” Remus jumped up at that, hands reaching for his wand that was on the table beside him. Sirius, just as quickly, wrapped his arm around his wolfy friend, trying to pull him back. James’ face was suddenly a lot more serious. “Moony?”

“Don’t talk like that!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, ready to round the table and approach…whatever was happening in front of you. Your kind, gentle Remus was so unlike himself, your heart throbbed painfully in your chest at what could possibly be causing that. James reached out to stop you, and the small contact was enough for Remus’ eyes to flash gold. You gasped.

“Moony. You need to calm down.” People were looking now, and Madam Price was headed over, eyes glaring daggers at the commotion in her library. Sirius managed to haul Remus away, nearly dragging him down the isles towards the exit.

James sighed, running a hand down his face, before abruptly remembering you were there. He spun on his heel, practically mowing you over, before peering so close to your face you could smell his hair potion. His eyes were narrowed, as if that would help him figure out what you knew. After a moment, you stepped back, clearing your throat.

“I’m flattered, Ja-Potter, really,” you said, your eyes darting between him and the pair that walked through the door, “but I-”

“Oh!” James huffed, laughing. “I’m sorry, for dragging you into this. I’m sure you’re an amazing person, what with Moony acting the way he did for you, but I’m head over heels for a certain Redhead with no other space in my heart.”

“Then why…?”

“Why? Because Moony is…” James stopped himself suddenly, looking you over once more. You could have sworn you heard him say ‘having his time of the month’ but he moved on before you could dwell on it. “He’s bad at expressing how he really feels. Always holding himself back, that kind of thing. Pads and I thought it would be a good idea to get him to realize he was being a bit of an idiot by…pushing things along.” You raised a brow.

“And you thought angering him was a good way to do that?”

“He isn’t usually like that, but every once in a while, it works to get the outcome we want.” James looked at you again. “You’re…okay, right? Moony didn’t scare you or anything, did he? I didn’t expect him to react like that.”

“Neither did I.” You sighed. “But no, not scared. He was acting a bit strange since before, but I hope he’s going to be okay.” James’ eyes softened.

“Don’t worry,” he said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, “our Moony always bounces back after a bit. Things are a little…complicated, but I have no doubt he’ll tell you everything one day.” You nodded once, satisfied. “Now, was I in the middle of being rejected?”

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed, punching his shoulder, “you idiot. You knew I was going to say no, weren’t you?”

“Have to be a bit more of an idiot than you think not to notice the way you and Moony ogle at each other.” You blushed, opening your mouth to retort. “Plus you haven’t been as shy when speaking to me recently.” At that, you didn’t have a response. “Moony is a bit…out of it, and is really hard on himself. I’m sorry to tell you, but if you want anything to happen with him, you’ll be the one to make that first step.”

“But, how do I know if he even feels that way about me?” James looked at you incredulously.“ You’re serious? He was one second away from casting a very real hex in my direction when I so much as insinuated you were a plaything. Moony doesn’t do that to just anyone.” At your shy look, James sighed. “Look, by Sunday Moony will be back to his disgustingly adorable self and you can return to the way you were, or you could make my best friend the happiest I’ve ever seen him. It’s completely up to you.” James swiped Remus’ things from the table, shoving them into his bag. “If I were you though, I wouldn’t wait too long. Looked like our dear Moony has a bit more animal in him than I thought.” He laughed evilly, only spurred on by your gob smacked face. Just you wait Moony, he thought, you’ll thank me by Monday.

______________________________________________________________

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[jocu-reads]

DIE Issue #5 Reread (Gillen & Hans)

Issue Six of DIE, "The Grind," features a lot — Sol acts like a catty advisor which is my favorite form of his character, Angela has to reckon with how she's let Die control her life both in and out of the game, we learn a bit more about her past, and we see how Kieron Gillen's work as a games journalist shines through with a discussion of The Crunch.

There's a very potent metaphor here between the characters in this comic are dominated by the systems of the game and those who are pushed to work tirelessly for The AAA Game, which I would call a descendant of the tabletop game in many ways.

We're entering the part of the text where my knowledge drops off some. Back when DIE was releasing, I must have read the first arc three or four times? It was all there was for roughly the first year, and I had many rereads before I ran the RPG beta, which launched sometime after Issue Five. Maybe we'll talk about those sessions I ran sometime soon.

Anyway, that's to say that these sections are very exciting as my memory is more foggy, so there's a lot of juicy stuff in here I didn't even recall. Let's get into it.

The Art

I'm always happy to see more of the dieselpunk robot designs Stephanie Hans has for the Eternal Prussians. Here's the cover of the issue, which is one of my favorites:

We also see that purple & pink used again for flashback panels. I do really enjoy how Hans's watercolor style is amplified here, it seems so dreamy. I'm still struggling a bit to see if we're to read the emotion wheel colors onto these scenes. I'd expect them to be more yellow and green if that were the case, though that may not make for a very pleasant visual look.

Oranges in this issue are so haunting. The glow of the giant machines, the dying embers around Glass Town, and of course that final sunrise over Case. Brilliant stuff.

Descend

Hey I just noticed, is Angela going down the same stairs Ash and Matt did to get to the core last issue? Maybe... Hans uses very dream-like architecture, something that invokes the nondescript mix of GM narration and battlemap abstraction in RPGs, so it's a bit hard to be certain, but it is a spiral staircase going down down down.

I bring this up because... well it's a dungeon isn't it! There's going to be a whole arc about dungeons at the end of this, but I suppose that doesn't mean the characters can't do some delving now.

I'm noticing a theme with downward motion and character monologue. Angela does it here. We get some from Ash both when she enters the Glass Town core but again when she enters the trench in Issue Three. Huh. That physical/mental descent link will become really potent by Arc Four. Let's keep an eye out on that as we keep reading.

Angela Runs Away

A fair amount of this comic deals with the characters refusing (or being unable) to change from who they were as teenagers and how that continues to fuck up their lives both in and out of the game. Angela, as Ash describes her, has always been trying to avoid something by moving onto what's shiny and new. As we know, this how she ends up playing the game in the first place—Ash takes her so she'll stop being upset about the family dog dying.

This is what has pretty quickly happened upon entering Die again too. One of the first things she does when she has spare gold is boot up Case again. I've commented on this habit as being kind of wasteful in the past. I think that comes off harsher than I intend though. I don't think she's dumb to keep feeding him gold, but I do think she's being a bit selfish. In this issue, when the Ash party is hunkered down and barely scraping by, that "bit" becomes "kind of a lot actually."

Ash calls her out on this and she runs away from the confrontation, one she knows will inevitably worsen.

Keen readers may pick up on this, but I think Ash may be a bad sister.

We also learn she did this around her later life too. Working in the AAA game space and leaving projects. Escaping a strained marriage with someone new. Packing up and leaving when her husband found out. Trying to apologize after her new partner felt things got too heavy. I don't think it's too much of a stretch to say her spending time with Case is running away from the matters at hand as well. Angela also realizes this by the end of the issue and this time puts a stop to her actions.

And yet. She's still running away from confrontations here too. Matt offers to take her emotional pain at Case's death away, something he can do as a Grief Knight (we'll talk about that in a sec) and she accepts the offer. Sure is lucky to have someone around that can eat all your sadness. Surely that isn't a poor coping mechanism or anything.

Another big problem Angela has is how often she jumps into terrible consequences without thinking too much. Like, okay, playing a game with your freak older "brother" and getting sucked into a nightmare world is kind of a freebie—I certainly can't blame her for that one. But the robot arm? I think it's clearer how that could backfire on you in the Genie Logic world they were in.

The other notable Campaign One mistake Angela made was dating Chuck, which seems like an obvious bad idea. But hey, she was just a kid right?

Problem is, Angela keeps following a self-destructive instinct as an adult. She gets involved in a workplace romance and her husband finds out. Terrible, but what did she expect to happen? She brings back her dog, knowing full well he will have to die again. It is a really unfortunate chain of behavior, one that is a clear consequence of her inability to sit still in bad situations and look for a good solution rather than a quick escape. Honestly, this probably made Angela and Chuck the second worst couple in the party.

I still feel like I'm being harsher towards Angela than I should, but there's a reason for that. All these problems spill over into her role as a mom too. This is something she is going to have to reckon with later. It's going to be really bad for everyone involved.

But let me cut her a break at least. This issue has given me a stronger appreciation for Angela, which I think happened when I read it back in 2019 too. This woman has been through a lot, maybe more than anyone else but Sol in the party. Despite that, she's still standing Were I in her position, I don't know that I could do much better.

The Neo

This is a weird class, since it is playing on a less defined archetype. Classically, the rogue exists to open up chests and disarm traps... and that's about it. There's certainly the sneak attacking and stealthiness of later editions and systems, but if we're looking at the B/X thief, my understanding is that it exists for one very specific use.

Angela is obviously doing more than just that though. I believe Gillen is drawing a lot on video game RPGs with the Neo, both due to it's connection to cyberpunk RPGs and therefore Deus Ex, but also with the name itself—the Neo is quite literally the new RPG.

The class also has one of the more "game-y" mechanics, a term I think is stupid but sometimes useful (what is a "game" after all? I guess "video game-y" is more apt.) Her abilities are on recharge, she needs power-ups to use them, she makes very concrete choices as to what to use and when. It is not unlike, say, a level up tree in Skyrim (or perhaps System Shock would be the more apt comparison of the games I've played.) It's also very telling that her class seems to convert money to playtime, a la arcade cabinets.

Your character's upgrades in System Shock 2

This puts what the classes are there for into better perspective for me. They are catering both to the traditional D&D classes, but also to types of players and types of games. We've talked about the Dictator and Master as storytelling classes, those who get deep into the roleplay and intrigue. Godbinder is another of those, but perhaps with more of a court and faction game focus. The Fool exists both as the so called "beer & pretzels" game but also fantasy pop literature to an extent, in all its forms (pulps, blockbuster trash, series that seem to never end.) The Emotion Knight fits a bit less cleanly here, but the Neo slots right into the CRPG niche. It helps that several of the characters have careers based around their class.

I think it makes a lot of sense then, that the video game class is built around stealth and the mercenary. I would consider the immersive sim as the closest video game genre to classic TTRPGs, drawing heavily on roleplay, character building, and exploitations of the world to overcome challenges rather than surpassing a scripted event. Of course, the cyberpunk flavor is a nod to Deus Ex, but the stealth comes more from Thief (which gets a direct reference in this issue too!)

I think this is also where the Neo's very wide range of powers comes from too. That's a very common move in ISs (consider System Shock, the Dishonored games, Prey. And... ugh... yes even Bioshock.) What starts as a way to build your character in a unique way often snowballs until you have everything unlocked by the end of a game... and Angela has been playing the Neo a very long time.

I should also mention the way Fair Gold plays into what Gillen sometimes refers to as an addiction for the class. I've never totally got this metaphor and frankly I think it's a little troubling. I'm just not sure what is gained by linking Angela (and the Neo) with addiction, something she does not appear to struggle with. I think it's apt to point out that she has some very poor and self-destructive patterns of behavior, but that's about where the metaphor ends. I don't have much more to say about the Fair Gold mechanic other than that for now, but maybe that'll change later.

That's enough about the class, let's talk about the other cyberpunk in the room.

The Fair (or, DIE drops another incredible concept out of nowhere)

In a shocking turn of events, this is actually the second time Gillen has made Daft Punk's Tron Legacy appearance into god-like beings. Maybe I need to rewatch that film to find the secret key to unlock his work.

As for how they're handled in DIE, the story just drops them here and says "Hey, this is the source of all of Angela's problems, a pair of painfully 'fair' and calculating cold beings that seem to delight in watching her squirm," and leaves you at that. And honestly? I really respect that. Usually Ash would delve into a monologue about all the times they encountered the Fair and how they are sooooo fucked up. Not that I don't eat that up every time, but it's nice to mix it up once in a while.

Part of me wants to crack open the RPG book and see if there's more to read about the Fair, but I don't think I will just yet. Sticking with the text in the books is probably best for now.

Anyway, I really really love these guys. Gillen will compare them to elves in one of his end of issue essays later, specifically their detached and timeless nature. I certainly agree with that.

I see these guys as a computer brain running parts of Die. I also see them as the developers designing that computer. It's a little blurry, like a lot of things in this comic.

They offer players who meet them a choice. It's a binary one, in this case the arm or the dog. They make their own decisions (to help or to forsake - to interfere or to observe) by a binary as well, literally flipping a coin. Comics love to have guys flip coins don't they.

Depending on the result of the flip, they answer "This is among the things that happen" or "This is not among the things that happen." It's a very concrete decision, as though it was always the case but needed to be known, rather than decided. There's something there with quantum observation, but I think this plays on how dice rolls and probability in general work.

When a character reaches a challenge, they either overcome it or they don't. Games have many resolution mechanics for this, but most RPGs use some amount of randomization. So will they succeed? Or will they not? The Fair side step the dice type, the difficulty class, the bonus, etc, and just give a coin: One or Zero. Why make the decision if it is already among (or not among) "the things that happen" though? Again, here we're playing with storytelling in RPGs. In the moment it seems unclear, but this stops being the case as soon as the face of a die is chosen. In fact, maybe it was determined the moment the die was cast, by which I mean cast in acrylic. If we follow what seems to be the Fair's philosophy (or Angela's understanding of it) the choices don't matter at all. The path is already determined.

I think that ties very well into the CRPG logic. There are only so many inputs and outputs a program can have. Notice how the Fair offered Angela only two options to give up. Her agency in how to garner a boon is given up from the start. Consider how this would differ from a TTRPG with a human GM, able to react to more player input. Consider how it may not differ.

For what it's worth though, Angela still follows through with the choice. Even without the Fair, she understands she has to let Case go. He dies. They get out. That is among the things that happen.

Other Thoughts

The Clockwork Prussians not knowing what to do with Glass Town (or seeming not to. Like much of this comic there's more going on) is really great. Another good nod to the GM scrambling to react after their players go way off script. "Occupying, I guess," is so great.

I talked a little about Campaign One here as well. I was on a long car ride with some friends, discussing what happens in arcs 2 and 3 of DIE the other week and while talking about how interesting (and maybe self defeating) a prequel series could be, I realized I don't actually know that much about how the party's first 2 years went. I suspect there are hints we could dig at around that though.

A big one is how Matt factors into it all. We learn here about the Grief Knight's emotion sucking abilities. Is this something he may have exercised often as a teenager? Perhaps to keep people sane and moving forward? That would be a pretty damning read, but let's tuck it away for now. I think we'll have A Lot to say about Campaign One by the end of this arc.

We close on the introduction of a favorite character of mine. We'll talk more about Augustus later.

[stobinesque]

phryctoria | chapter 6: four by one (delta)

Sometimes your gay awakening is just having someone to show you it’s possible. Steve realizes there's a whole gay world out there, waiting for them.

Now Complete!

[1][2][3][4][5] | [Read on AO3]

"Robbie, honey, is that you?" Mrs. Buckley calls out as the front door swings shut behind them.

"Yeah, mom!" Robin shouts back as she toes off her shoes.

"Is Steve with you?" Robin claims her mother has some sort of sixth sense for Steve's presence in the house. Steve thinks it’s just a safe bet to assume he’s there, seeing as that's the case more often than not.

"I am!" Steve affirms, as Robin grabs his hand to drag him up to her room. The staircase has a direct line of sight to the living room, where Robin's parents are curled together on their squashy couch, watching something Steve can't make out on the tiny television set.

"There are leftovers in the fridge." Mr. Buckley says as they pass by.

"Thank you, sir." Robin tugs at Steve’s wrist impatiently. "Uh…we’ll grab some later," he says, tripping up the stairs after Robin.

"Ugh, you're such a suck-up!" she declares as she flops back onto her bed.

"I have to stay on their good side! They’re both half-convinced I'm one step away from stealing your virginity."

"Eugh, please don't say that." Robin pulls open her bag and starts dumping the contents onto her mattress. "Besides, they wouldn't have any room to talk. I was conceived in the back of my dad’s Volkswagen."

Steve hops up onto the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. He picks up his pamphlet from the books and 'zines strewn across Robin's bed, and rolls it up to point at her. "Now, how—and why, exactly—do you know that?"

"Remember what I said about my parents and boundaries?"

“Okay, sure, that tracks.” Steve flips open the booklet with a little flourish. “So, wanna learn about how to fuck without dying?”

Robin arches a brow at him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No? What would I—?”

Steve flinches as something hits his chest and he looks down to see the reading glasses he’d bought earlier. “Really?”

“Yes, really! Put them on!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but puts them on. “Happy?”

“I am,” she sniffs with haughty self-satisfaction.

Steve pulls a face and mouths a mocking “I am!” as he picks the pamphlet back up and flicks it open. He skims his way down the table of contents—there’s a foreword, a preface, and an introduction for some reason—and his eyebrows start creeping up his forehead as he goes. Sucking, Fucking, Sadism & Masochism (S&M), Fist Fucking…mixed in with things Steve doesn’t even recognize (what the hell do “water sports” have to  do with sex?)

It's all a little daunting—like he should have started with a basic field guide to Sex With Men before jumping into figuring out how to do it safely.

But he’s here now, so he takes a deep breath, flips to the next page, and begins.

Barely three paragraphs in and he's right back to feeling in over his head. Is he supposed to have opinions on the causes of AIDS? He can count the number of times he’s heard or read about it in a context that wasn’t riddled with disgust and condemnation. All he really knows is that a diagnosis is as good as a death sentence.

He shakes his head, frustrated. "Hey, do you have a highlighter or something?"

Robin doesn’t say anything, but when Steve looks up to ask her again, something smacks him on the head—Robin having chosen to answer by way of lobbing a highlighter directly at his face. He's grudgingly impressed by her aim.

"Stop throwing things at me!"

Robin ignores him. "Careful, Stevie, you might turn into a nerd if you're not careful."

"...shut up." He uncaps the marker with a bitchy flourish to highlight the sentence “Sex doesn't make you sick—diseases do. Gay sex doesn't make you sick—gay men who are sick do.” It settles something in him that's been strung tight since Monday. Even if some part of him knew that he wasn't sick just by existing, he couldn't shake the memory of kids asking anyone they thought might be gay if they knew what it stood for, before shouting “Got AIDS Yet?” down the hall after them.

Steve grimaces at the memory, and carries on reading until he’s reached the end of the introduction, highlighting a sentence at the end there

Our challenge is to figure out how we can have gay, life-affirming sex, satisfy our emotional needs, and stay alive!

He's never really thought of sex as anything more than a kind of fraught balancing act between performance and pleasure—let alone “life-affirming.”

Except...that is kind of what it was between him and Nancy right? It's why they'd drifted back together after everything. They'd both only had each other—well, Nancy had Jonathan, too, kind of. But Steve had lost his two closest friends, and even if he hadn't, it’s not like he could have shared anything that'd happened to him without putting them in harm’s way.

(There had been a few times early on when Steve had considered reaching out to Tommy or Carol. But even without the worry that he might revert back to a version of himself that he was all too eager to leave in the rearview, he also didn't know what the point of trying to maintain a relationship with them was, when his entire understanding of the world had turned on its head.)

So Nancy and Steve had become NancyandSteve—not so much in deed as in perception. After Barb, after…everything…they'd both been hesitant to have sex again for a while. Steve didn't want to push Nancy into doing anything that would make her uncomfortable (and if Steve benefited from not having to perform quite so much, all the better). And Nancy always seemed like it was something she felt guilty for even wanting.

And then one night Steve had just kind of snapped and asked her outright “Do you want to have sex?”

It was like a dam bursting. As if all Nancy had needed was for someone to ask her what she actually wanted, instead of thinking herself in circles around what she should want.

"Penny for your thoughts, Fen?"

Steve doesn’t look up from where his eyes have lost on the words swimming in front of him. "Just…thinking about Nancy."

"Oh?" Robin’s voice is cautiously curious.

"Yeah, just like. I don't know. We didn't have sex all that often when we were together, but when we did, it was like…" Steve trails off, struggling to find the words.

"Like what?”

"Like…I don't know. Like us?” He says, finally looking up at Robin and gesturing between the two of them. “Like when we sleep together?”

Robin doesn't wrinkle her nose like he expects her to. Instead she tilts her head and gives him a considering look. "Like…comforting?"

Steve snaps his fingers and points at her. "Yeah! And it was fun, too, I guess. But it was mostly just…it was the one time where I felt like I could actually give her what she needed, you know?”

Robin shakes her head with a little frown. "I don't. That sounds…really sad, actually."

Steve huffs and drags a hand through his hair. "I'm not explaining this right."

"No, I think you are!" Robin reaches out to take one of his hands into hers. "Look, you don't really talk about Nancy, and I'm not asking you to do it now anymore than you already have or want to. But, the silence kind of speaks for itself, you know? I don't know what happened with the two of you, but I…I don't know, I'd see you together, sometimes, after Barb, and you both always seemed so sad. But you never really seemed like you were sad together, you know? You didn't even look like you were causing each other's sadness, you just…you looked like you were on these parallel tracks of grief. So…so maybe, when you were having sex it was like the one time where you both actually were on the same track? And that's…"

"Fucked up, because I'm gay, and her best friend died while she was losing her virginity? To me? A gay man?"

"Well, I wasn't gonna put it like that."

"Sure."

Silence falls between them, and Steve stares at the Ripley poster hanging on Robin’s wall. Thinking about Nancy has left him unsettled in a way he wouldn’t have expected it to. Not that realizing he’s gay should suddenly erase all of the heartbreak he’d felt at the end of things. But he thought he’d moved on. Come to terms with everything. But now, recontextualizing their relationship, and realizing how much it had really just been a means of survival than anything else for both of them…it leaves him feeling a little sick.

Robin cuts into his thoughts. "Okay, enough wallowing about shitty exes—"

"Nancy wasn't—”

"Shhhh,” Robin says, waving a hand in his face to get him to stop talking. “Let me be dramatically overprotective of you about this."

"Fine,” he says, even though something about it doesn’t sit right with him.

"Back to my point: stop wallowing, and get back to reading about how you can have hot gay sex safely, so I can live vicariously through you!"

Some of the tension bleeds out of him. "Okay, first of all, I don't think you want to be having the same kind of hot gay sex as me, and second of all, you’re coming with me! You can find a hot girl to bang!"

"I thought we’d already established that I don't want to have sex for the first time with a stranger!"

"Oh.” Steve falls back. Even having just talked about it earlier that evening he’d kind of…forgotten that other people might prefer to know the person they lose their virginity to. He hadn’t really had a choice. “Right."

"I think I'd be okay with kissing a girl that I don't know yet. But, like, how do you even tell if someone's interested in you?” She tangles her fingers in her hair and starts tugging at the roots. “And how do you flirt?"

"Okay, okay, one thing at a time.” Steve reaches forward to pull her hands from her hair, holding them to his chest. “You don't have to rush anything, you know—”

"Steve! It's not rushing things if I've…if I've known this about myself for years and I'm still just a clueless virgin!"

"Okay, well, I don't think me not being a virgin means I have any more of a clue about things than you do. It's just…” Steve gestures in the space between them. "It's just bodies! And, like, hearts and guts and brains, or whatever—but that's still just bodies! And if we're going to a gay club you'll have to exert a lot less effort into trying to figure out if someone likes you. You can just ask!”

"'You can just ask' he says.” Robin scoffs. “Have you ever 'just asked' a girl if she likes you?"

"Well, no, but that's because they're supposed to act like they don't."

"What?" Robin yanks her hands out of Steve’s grip with a violent jerk backwards.

"Yeah! Girls are supposed to act like they're all bashful or whatever about a guy liking them. So you have to come at it sideways, give them a little opening to sneak through." He holds his hands a couple inches apart and makes a little snaking motion in demonstration.

Robin gapes at him. "Straight people are fucking weird."

"Yeah, it's exhausting." There was something of a thrill to a successful seduction, though. It was a game Steve had been good at playing, once upon a time. It had just lost its appeal somewhere along the way. Maybe in a new context he'd find a way to make it fun again. "But there aren't any guys in the equation for you, so you don't have to do any of that."

"Okay, yeah, but what if everyone does still act like that, but because there's no men to do the asking everyone is just like! Awkwardly hovering around each other!”

"I literally just told you to do the asking."

"Yeah, well, what if your advice is bad! I've seen you try to flirt, Steve!"

"Yeah, you've seen me try to flirt with girls who I am not attracted to,” he argues back, gesticulating wildly. He slumps back and bites his lip, considering. "Okay, how about this,” he starts, leaning forward again. “I bet you that if you ask, you can get a girl to kiss you."

Robin narrows her eyes, "What's the winner get?”

Steve thinks for a second. "Full control of the stereo on the ride back."

"Deal." Robin spits into her palm and extends it to him. "Shake on it, Harrington."

Steve grimaces, but spits into his own palm, before grasping her hand in his. "Deal"

Steve returns to reading, but a few minutes later tosses it aside again with a frustrated huff, pressing the tips of his fingers into his eyes, as though that will chase away the budding headache.

“…you good over there?”

Steve drops his hands and blinks rapidly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Robin snorts. “Liar. What’s up? Why do you look like you just got your head shoved in a toilet?”

“Nothing, I just—it’s dumb.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And—I don’t want to bore you with stupid questions.”

“I’m pretty sure the no-stupid-questions rule is still in effect.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t a gay question or whatever—I just don’t know how to fucking read.”

Robin frowns, leaning forward to look at him more closely. “Okaaaaay, but clearly you do—you’ve been highlighting up a storm over there.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I understand anything!” Steve snaps his mouth shut and looks away. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

Robin plays with her hands, expression nervous. “Why does it matter if you don’t understand it?”

“What’s the point in reading any of this if I don’t know what it means?”

“No, no, I get that, I just mean—why are you acting like not understanding something will matter to me?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, it has before.”

Robin stares at him, mouth agape. “What are you—are you talking about what I said about Click’s class?”

Steve doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, well, if it is, then you are an idiot, if you think literally any of 15-year-old me’s thoughts about you still apply now.” Robin shakes her head sadly. “Steve, you could ask me what color the fucking sky is—and I’d probably lie first, just to fuck with you a bit—but I definitely wouldn’t judge you for asking. I literally don’t care whether you’re a genius, or-or if you don’t know what two plus two is! The stupid little thoughts of a jealous teenager are entirely irrelevant to what we have here,” she says, gesturing between the two of them.

Steve is quiet, assessing her for even a bare hint of insincerity. There’s none to be found. Maybe he can hazard a chance at trusting someone again. As though he hasn’t been doing that this whole time. He sighs and hands the pamphlet over. “It’s not even that I don’t know what it’s saying, I just…every time I get to the end of the page it’s like everything I’ve just read falls out of my head.”

“Okay, well, maybe between the two of us we can get it to stick.” Robin holds her hand out and makes a grabby motion until Steve drops the highlighter into it. She skims through the whole section, humming occasionally as she underscores something.

A couple minutes later she looks back at him with a smile. “Okay, well, first off: this was also kind of dense for me. There’s, like, a lot of information here and it’s all presented very argumentatively and kind of assumes the person reading it knows more about the debatable causes of AIDS than I think either of us do. But basically it’s arguing that instead of AIDS being caused by one virus, it’s instead caused by a build-up of CMV, which is a totally different virus.”

Steve nods along. He does follow that. The foreword, preface, and introduction had all alluded to it, but once the authors got further into the details they’d started to lose him.

“Second of all, I don’t know if it really matters. I mean, obviously it matters that, like, scientists and doctors and whoever know the exact cause. But from what I can tell, it seems like regardless of the exact cause, we still have a reasonably good understanding of how it spreads—namely, sperm and blood. So I think as long as you understand everything else in here about how to prevent spreading or catching things, you’re probably good not to understand all of the science behind it.”

Steve nods and takes the pamphlet back from her. “Okay,” he says. “Uh, thanks.”

Robin nods. “Anytime, Steph.”

Steve blushes and smiles at her.

Reading the rest of the pamphlet gets much easier from there. He skims over the sections specifically covering CMV, figuring that he can return to them later if needed, but that they probably aren’t strictly relevant to him just yet.

About halfway through reading, he realizes that despite the heavy subject matter, he’s actually kind of enjoying reading it, in a way that’s unfamiliar to him. He’s always enjoyed having sex, but he’d never considered that he might also like learning about it. It’s a similar sort of satisfaction that he found in learning first aid for his lifeguard certification. But most of that was a hands-on kind of learning. Steve can’t remember a time he’s been anything other than frustrated while reading.

The writers talk about sex with an unrelenting frankness that is completely foreign to him. And they don’t limit themselves to the mere mechanics of the act. They dive into ethics and philosophy, and by the time Steve has made it to the last section, he finds himself highlighting whole paragraphs.

Gay men are socialized as men first; our gay socialization comes later. From the day we are born we are trained as men to compete with other men. The challenge facing gay men in America is to figure out how to love someone you’ve been trained to “destroy”

It knocks Steve off his feet. Like someone has held a mirror up to his life.

He remembers the adrenaline flooding him when he pinned Jonathan to the ground in that alley—and again, when Jonathan took him by the wrist and pulled him to safety hours later.

He remembers the jealousy and fear of losing to a boy he felt the need to prove himself better than.

But what if there had been love there all along? Buried deep beneath the pain and self-loathing.

The goal of gay male liberation must be to find ways in which love becomes possible despite continuing and often overwhelming pressure to compete and adopt adversary relationships with other men.

Steve traces over the lines of those sentences like they’re precious. Robin is the only other gay person he knows, and she knows only fractionally more about this world than he does.

And it is a world. There’s a whole history here. Beyond the scientific analysis of disease and recommendations for safer sex, that is what he’s found here. A community. A lineage. There’s a culture there lying in wait of discovery for the both of them. There are men who have walked the same gauntlet that Steve is just beginning to—and who have emerged on the other side. And maybe they’re all in peril together. But at least it is together.

If you love the person you are fucking with—even for one night—you will not want to make them sick.

Steve doesn’t know what he and Robin will find when they go to Indy. The world is larger and more complex than anything he’s going to find in a 40-page pamphlet.

But who knows, maybe he will find love there.

Maybe affection is our best protection.

Bonus! Chapter 7: Erratum & Appendices

Annotations to the text “How to Have Sex in an Epidemic” by Michael Callen and Richard Berkowitz, intro by Dr. Joseph Sonnabend - Spring 1985

[A/N: full text can be accessed here]

ANNOTATION, pg 9, following the section “WHAT CAUSES AIDS?”

While the multifactorial theory behind AIDS was already unpopular in the medical community at the time of this pamphlet’s initial publication, a greater preponderance of medical and community health experts now agree that the recently discovered virus HTLV III is the virus responsible for the development of AIDS. However, there is still much we do not know about the virus’ transmission. That said: the guidelines for safer sex outlined by Callen and Berkowitz, and supported by Dr. Sonnabend, are still likely to greatly mitigate the risk of transmitting or acquiring the HTLV III virus and, subsequently, AIDS.

While most professionals agree that CMV is not the cause of AIDS, CMV remains a disease that MSM should be careful to minimize their risk of transmitting. The risks and effects of CMV as highlighted by the authors in this pamphlet—excepting its connection to AIDS—remain sound; as do their recommendations for mitigating transmission.

For individuals interested in getting tested for the HTLV III virus, an Alternate Test Site has recently opened opened at the Indiana University Medical Center. This testing site, unlike others in the area, guarantees anonymity and privacy for those who wish to get tested. A positive test for HTLV III does not mean you have AIDS, an AIDS related condition, nor does it mean you will develop AIDS in the future.

For further information about the HTLV III test, call the Indianapolis Gay & Lesbian Switchboard at (317) 543-6200. They have a 24 hour answering service, and make calls back between 7 and 11PM.

ANNOTATION, pg 24, following “KISSING”

While HTLV III has been detected in saliva, there have been no reported cases of AIDS transmitted via kissing, or shared foods or utensils. Community health experts are in near unanimous agreement that kissing bears no risk of transmission of HTLV III/AIDS.

ANNOTATION, p. 20, following “FUCKING”

Studies are inconclusive as to the effectiveness of natural condoms for VD prevention. But as the authors state, natural condoms have a lower risk of breakage to their latex counterparts.

ANNOTATION, p. 21, within the section “GETTING FUCKED”

The importance of lubrication during anal sex cannot be overstated. Lubrication decreases the chances of condoms breaking, and of microtears of the rectal lining.

ANNOTATION, p. 22, following “GETTING FUCKED”

Always be sure to carefully follow the instructions of use for any prophylactic. Condom wrappers should always be opened carefully, with ones hands.

Appendix: STEVE (and Robin's) GUIDE TO SAFELY FUCKING

CLEAR HEAD TO GET HEAD! If you’re planning to fuck, you can’t be drunk!

TALK IT OUT! Always be sure to talk to your partner about limits and safety before getting it on

KEEP IT CLEAN! It’s important to wash up before and after sex to limit the spread of bacteria and germs

WRAP IT UP! If you’re going to fuck someone, or have someone suck you off, make sure you’re wearing a condom

Always open condom wrappers CAREFULLY with your HANDS—ripping wrappers open with your teeth stops being sexy the moment the condom tears

If you’re not going to wear a condom, make sure you don’t come anywhere inside your partner (especially their ass!!!)

KISSING: ✔️✔️✔️

GET CREATIVE There are lots of things to do that pose no risk at all!

GET HANDY: mutual masturbation is a completely safe way for two (or more) to get it on. Throw in some dirty talk to add a little extra HEAT!

IT’S ABOUT LOVE, even if only for a night

***

Authors Note: please keep in mind that everything in this chapter reflects what was known of HIV/AIDS c. 1985! Please do not take safe sex advice from a fanfic!

[sinsiriuslyemo]

I have to ask ... Sirius Black and the Daughter of the Mountain King?

What? How? What? Who?

Thanks so much for asking!

So, Sirius Black and the Daughter of the Mountain King actually started as an idea for a one shot. I was thinking 3-4k words max. But as I started to write, there was more story emerging in my head, and long story longer, I'm currently finishing the last few chapters of the first draft, the whole thing is fast approaching 250k words and there will be a part 2, possibly a part 3.

I'm calling the series The Legacy of the Noble House of Black, part one is titled Sirius Black and the Daughter of the Mountain King. It's Sirius-centric (obviously) and starts just after PoA and ends when he falls through the veil in OotP.

Synopsis:

The secrets of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black run deep. On the run from the Ministry of Magic, Sirius and Buckbeak fly to the Ocean's Edge, where Sirius' younger sister was hidden over two decades before. Upon returning to England, and locked in their childhood home, Sirius and Callisto begin to uncover the mystery that their parents set into motion decades earlier, while the Order of the Phoenix prepares for the Second Wizarding War.

And because I'm dying to start posting this but have made a rule for myself not to until a first draft is finished, here's a snippet from the prologue (which is from Dumbledore's perspective):

Now that Sirius had been spared from the Dementor's Kiss, and the hippogriff from the executioner's blade, Dumbledore just had to hope that Sirius wouldn't wait too long to read the note Hermione gave him, directing him to a cave near Hogsmeade.

As he strode into his office, Albus went up the curved staircase to the right of his mahogany desk, and went to the bookshelf closest to the large, circular window. He pulled a navy, tattered book that had served as a hiding place for twenty-three years, blowing away the years of dust from the front and opening it to chapter eight. Pulling out his wand, he touched it to the seventh sentence from the bottom and dragged his wand toward the edges, sliding the words off the page, leaving them to float in the air before him:

"Without memory, there is no healing. Without forgiveness, there is no future."

"Animatus sententia."

The sentence began to glow before his eyes, a soft yet bright orange that grew brighter and warmer until the letters shimmered and burst like silent fireworks. The pieces reassembled into a zinc and gold music box with crystal trim, which had been sealed for nearly three decades.

[tisiphonewolfe]

Seven Snippets, Seven People

Tagged by @sam-glade whose post is here. Thanks! I appreciate the Shatranj snippet~

You know what? I post a lot of MWC&C. I'm gonna challenge myself to post some BBS&B without spoiling too much!

Rules: Post seven snippets (however long or short as you want) and tag seven people.

One:

That was fair. Releine took her point. “What about you, then? How come you’re so keen to go rescue her nibs?” Releine felt Jessa’s shoulders shake in a silent chuckle. “I owe her my life, much as I owe you my life. I’ll come whenever she calls until the day I die.” “Your life? I’m not sure we did that much. We just pulled you out of a bad situation.” “No.” There was a deep warmth in Jessa’s voice and she reached a hand up to pat Releine’s neck. “It was my life. Living like that was death, and it would have meant death sooner or later.” After a moment of silence she said, in a measured, deliberate tone; “You can’t ever be a different person than yourself. You can’t follow rules that aren’t your own. It kills you.”

Two:

Releine, out of breath, stumbled and skidded down the icy slope, a tumbling mess of limbs and tail. When she landed, miraculously still on her feet somehow, at the bottom, she announced to the wide-eyed onlookers; “I’m coming with you.” Hyrin rolled her eyes, sighed, and flicked a coin to Saff, who was grinning smugly. He fumbled the catch and got down on his knees to dig for it through the foot-deep snow.

Three:

It would be trivial to construct a lockpick if she hadn’t made some alterations to her door’s lock. As it was, it would take some doing. But before she could consider how to begin, a voice from behind the door teased her; “I don’t recommend it.” The smooth, low voice was the familiar not-quite-whisper of Oda Hopesinger. An old classmate of Maribelle’s. She had excelled in almost any field of study she turned her hands and mind to, but what she had settled on set Maribelle’s shoulders tight and chilled her spine. Oda Hopesinger was the Genius of Murder. “Why are you here, Oda?” she called, trying to conceal the tremor in her voice. “Just checking up on you.” “I’m fine. Go away.” “I’m sorry. Not for your sake, I’m afraid. I’ve been asked to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

Four:

He had tried to insist that she should run. Forget about Selgg, about Gorzlon Kudh. Wouldn’t it be better to live for her betrayed comrades than die for them? “Papa,” she had said, “it’s you that I can’t forget about.” "Selgg will kill you, sweetweed,” he had insisted, sadly. “She’s not only battle-strong, but strong in the sight. Some say that she can see up to twelve seconds, even in the heat of combat. Have you ever fought another with the sight?” Yurhagh hadn’t, and she had, at the most, only four seconds of sight. So she had spent the night thinking about how to win against someone else who could see the future.

Five:

She made her way to the entrance hall, down twining staircases, running her hand over the lumpy, carved grotesque that decorated the end of each banister. The entrance hall was full of faceless statues, loitering on chequered tile. She hadn’t realised it the night of her arrival, but as Theo walked her through here in the afternoon, she noticed that the statues hadn’t always been faceless - the faces were chiselled off. She shivered as she tiptoed her way out into the grounds, through doors more than three times her height that groaned like dying men no matter how gently she moved them. The night air was still and cold and she dearly wished she had brought a cardigan.

Six:

That evening, Theo introduced dinner as one of Versewelt’s national dishes - chicken stewed in a sauce of orange-red peppers. It smelled delicious, but Almyra had to restrain a cough as she took her first bite. It was searingly hot on her tongue and made her eyes water. As soon as she had swallowed it, she threw an entire glass of water down her throat. Theo regarded her with amusement. “Apologies, Princess, is it too hot for you? I can have Frederica make something else.” Almyra now found herself holding back an attack of the hiccoughs. “No, no,” she struggled out, “I was just a little overeager, my Lord. It’s delicious, Frederica.” The maid’s cheeks grew greener in what Almyra recognised, after a moment, was a blush, and she curtsied politely.

Seven:

Almyra came to gradually, slipping between the dream and wakefulness, such that what was probably thirty seconds felt like thirty minutes. When she did finally arrive in the waking world, she could smell fresh pine-scented air, hear birds singing in the distance, sense the warm light through her eyelids. She could also feel fine, smooth silk under her cheek that was, worryingly, quite damp. She opened her eyes and registered the swampy green tint on the pale skin of someone’s neck. The person had leaned across the bed, leaving their weight half-resting on the mattress. Their jaw was pressed against Almyra’s skull. She could feel the teeth mindlessly rubbing up and down over her skin as the drool trickled through her hair to wet the pillow beneath. With a shriek she jerked away and fell entirely from the bed with a thump, onto hardwood floors.

And seven wonderful people!!!

@heymacareyna @e-lisard @onecunninglinguist @bethany-sensei @n1ghtcrwler @ashirisu @late-to-the-fandom

[j-exclamationmark-l]

My mother is dying.

She was the light of my life, introduced me to so many wonderful things. She and I have our own "normal" I have never found anywhere else. Sometimes I'm asked why I'm the way I am. And I think, if you knew my mother, you'd understand. I don't think I pull off her warm darkness as well as she does, or else people would understand.

I would do anything to bring her back.

I was overcome with the feeling, as loud and clear as if someone screamed it in my ear, if I killed that man, my mother would be okay.

I searched the area for speakers, even though I knew in my heart it wasn't a tangible sound. It wasn't even words, just the strong feeling one life for another would appease the gods.

Gods? What gods?

It just made sense. Better to act now while I knew.

-

He told me his name was Ewi. He was white, blonde, with glasses and plain but nice clothing. Unassuming enough, pleasant enough, not suspicious at all when I invited him over for dinner.

I began to feel my first pangs of doubt. This was just a man. Why him? Why death? How was I even supposed to do it, did the gods care?

I knew I had to act now, while I knew it was the right thing to do. Before I got cold feet.

-

I was cooking when he arrived. My little brother was excited to have a guest over. My mother was upstairs, unconscious as ever.

I served pasta. I sprinkled Ewi's with chloroform. When he passed out, my brother just happily assumed our guest was tired.

I told my brother he'd better go to bed as well.

After the room had been cleared of people and dishes, I carefully tied Ewi with electric cords I had prepared and laid him down on the dining table.

He didn't even stir.

I carefully slit his throat. Blood spurted out, but otherwise, Ewi made no sound. The warmth of it surprised me. I didn't really expect it to be so warm, but I supposed it made sense. His crisp, white button up shirt soaked it in.

I waited. He was dead, right? Now what?

My hands seemed to act of their own accord then, quickly stabbing his chest repeatedly, like I was angry at him. Why? Why was I so angry?

I heard my brother approaching from the staircase. I called out, told him not to come in. He told me he was hungry. I told him to go back to bed.

I stabbed Ewi over and over. He was already dead, it wasn't as though it was worse for him, it wasn't as though it hurt. I let my hands move by themselves, cutting and slashing and stabbing.

When the dizzy haze passed from before my eyes, I finally set the knife down. Ewi was unrecognizable as a human. I supposed I should feel disgusted, but he looked so far from human at the moment that it didn't even register to me I should feel anything different than when I watch a gory movie.

Then I remembered.

I almost slipped on the slick floor in my hurry to run up the stairs to check on my mother.

She was asleep in her bed. I gently nudged her, but she still didn't react. I called out to her.

No response.

I tried. Maybe the sacrifice took time. But how long? Two to three business days? Was there lots of paperwork to sort? Did the gods have to count every stab wound? Every ounce of flesh and blood and viscera lost?

Or worse.

What if I was wrong?

I became aware of the sound of sirens fading into earshot. My blood ran cold. It couldn't be for what I'd done, could it? How could I possibly explain? No, they'd have to fade out again...

But they didn't. The roared closer, illuminating the dark room with their flashing lights.

I was caught.

I slowly left the room. I was very aware of the blood dripping from my clothing and face and hair, the handprints and footprints I left. There was no point in even trying to hide it.

How undignified.

I slowly descendent the staircase. I had no idea how to explain what I had done.

My brother was wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, a police officer trying to calm him. Of course he'd called the police.

Another officer rushed past me. Something about that struck me as odd.

I turned and walked slowly into the kitchen.

Four people, one officer and three paramedics, were gathered around a bloody form sitting upright at the table. The three were trying to apply medical aid. The officer was holding a clipboard and asking questions.

Ewi locked eyes with me as I entered the kitchen. He had a new plate of pasta before him, which he was eagerly in the process of eating, seeming to pay no mind to the people surrounding him.

His red and dripping face split open horizontally, revealing teeth.

It took a moment for me to register he was smiling.

He asked me quite pleasantly how my mother was doing. I was at a loss for words. He told the officer with the clipboard I had run up to check on her. A paramedic asked him if he could stand. Ewi smiled and said it looked a lot worse than it felt. He said he was sorry my brother troubled them by calling them in, he was quite alright.

The officers exchanged some looks of disbelief, but ultimately packed up and left.

It wasn't until we were alone I realized I did not want to be left alone with him.

Ewi confirmed as he consumed food as clotted and red as his blood, if I had succeeded in killing him, my mother could be restored to the way she was. But it wasn't that simple for him, he'd been alive for centuries and didn't suspect someone like me would be his downfall. Quite the opposite, if he came out and told the officers what a monster I was, my life would be over. I told him he couldn't blackmail me like this.

Why? he asked. What will you tell them? I'm a demon? You'll be locked away in an insane asylum. And even then, I'll still visit. You know who can't visit? Your mother.

My life now belonged to him.

Nightmares! Nonstop nightmares!

[orionares]

BTHB: Distress Call

BTHB: Distress Call

NCIS: Los Angeles

@badthingshappenbingo

—----

A/N: Takes place mid season 3

—-------

"Twenty-three…."

"Twenty-four….."

"Twenty-"

Sam Hanna is cut short in his count as his cell phone rings out from below the bench. He sighs, places the fifty pound dumbbell onto the mat with his right hand and picks up his cell phone to see- Caller: Marty Deeks.

Why the hell is Deeks calling me? Sam thinks, nowhere in the mood for a ramble or random, idiotic question that's just popped in the detective’s head. Sam is especially not prepared for a question from Deeks while he's in the middle of LAPD undercover op.

The last one? "Sam, there's a shop out here in Boyle Heights- well, technically not Boyle Heights since we passed the sign- anyway, there's a boat sweater out here that has your name on it-"

Or the one from 3 months ago? "I hear you guys are undercover at a country club.  I'm jealous- Bates wants me to hangout under an overpass. Wanna trade?"

Out of curiosity and the knowledge that he'll likely here about it anyway when Deeks comes back, Sam presses answer and prepares for well, nonsense.

What he does not expect is the deep, pained breathing on the other end. 

"Deeks?" Sam calls out and drops the other dumbbell onto the mat. "What- what are you-"

"Sam…." The usually happy detective wheezes on the other end. Sam can hear the faint sounds of honking and a train over Deeks' labored breathing. "'Meant to call K'nsi."

"Are you drunk?" Sam asks, praying, please let it be that you are drunk or just woke up or-

"No…oww…I got…someone sta-stabbed me and m' bleeding, " Deeks slurs. Sam hears him grunt out in pain and what he assumes to be sliding or falling to the ground. "Where's K'si?"

Sam rises to his feet, turns and starts walking towards the gym's entrance. Although he's never told Deeks or well, anyone on the team, he's had two talks with Lieutenant Bates on backing up Deeks on undercover OPS.

I'm not in the mood to train another Rookie, Sam had snapped at Bates. 

I might have to do a third-

He shakes off the question and moves through the entrance and towards the bullpen.  "Deeks, you got hurt on another op? What did LAPD say?" 

"Didn't call 'em. Wouldn't come if I did anyway- ouch." 

"Are you moving? If you're moving, stop moving and stay still!"

Deeks groans out in pain again before silence  passes on the line. Sam stops in his tracks and calls out, "Deeks?"

No answer.

"Deeks!" Sam yells now and his voice echoes throughout the mission, attracting the attention of a few agents, Eric and Kensi. Kensi appears from behind the desk divider and raises an eyebrow at Sam.

Thankfully, the labored breathing starts up again. Deeks groans and slurs, "Drop-I'd…I think I dropped the phone on the- on the ground. I'm sorry-"

"Stop moving and stay on the line." Sam looks up to Kensi and Eic on the staircase. "Deeks was injured on an op and called me. Eric, get LAPD down to- Deeks, where are you?"

"Boyle He-Heights. M'gonna call Kensi. Didn't mean to bug you, Sam. I'm gonna-"

"Deeks, if you hang up the phone, I swear to God," Sam snaps. "Eric's going to alert LAPD and I'm going to put Kensi on the phone with you."

Sam hands off the phone to Kensi and watches Eric sprint up the stairs to the OPS center. He stands in the middle of the Mission for a beat and lets the adrenaline running through his veins settle. Odd to Sam, the only moment his trained mind can't skip over are-

Didn't mean to bug you, Sam. 

Or the true meaning behind the words-

Didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you were doing, Sam, to trust you enough to save me from dying alone. My bad. 

I'm sorry that I thought you'd care-

Sam shakes his head and forces a new thought into his mind- No, push the words off and go make sure he doesn’t die.

After a minute or so passes, Sam moves back into action, heading up the stairs to meet Eric. He expects the detective's pained voice and the words- didn't mean to bug you, Sam- to fade after they find Deeks.

However, even after LAPD calls to report Deeks alive, unconscious in an alley with a knife sticking out of his thigh, Sam Hanna's left with a set of unexpected emotions. 

Emotions that even as he teases and pokes at Deeks for another year and a half, sit in the back of his conscience. 

Emotions that multiply after he watches the detective scream in pain from being tortured. Tortured to keep him and his wife safe.

Guilt. Disappointment. Worry. Sadness.

Each emotion carves a spot in his conscience that he  carries during every happy and heartbreaking moment during the nine years that follow. 

The ex-SEAL never brings it up once to anyone. 

In nearly 11 years, Sam never brings it up, never asking- after everything I had done do you Deeks, why'd you call me of all people for help?

—-------

Part 2?

[incognitajones]

Trick or treat! 🍫🎃

Number 13 “hearth” for Rebelcaptain please? 💕

Inspiration for this one hadn't struck yet, and then two things happened yesterday: we had the first significant snow of the season, and the power went out.

[Note: this snippet is set in the same MSF canonverse AU as I fought the war (but the war won). If you haven't read that story, all you need to know is that it's still Star Wars - but Jyn is a journalist and Cassian is a medical aid worker.]

-

The ceiling light flickered and faded before dying altogether with a pop, leaving Jyn in the dark. The power was out—again. 

Jyn rubbed her hands together until the friction generated an ember of warmth and folded them tightly around it as though she were praying. If she was the kind of person who prayed, she’d be begging for the heating to come back. She could shoot during the daytime without artificial lighting, or use the spotlights on her drone camera; its battery recharged on solar. But the damp cold of Aldhani had settled in the marrow of her bones. 

Her head jerked up at a sound in the hall, just before there was a rap on her half-open door. “Jyn?” a familiar voice called. “There’s a fire in the lobby. Come down and stay warm.”

Of course Andor had come to track her down.

“I’m fine,” Jyn said, picking up her tablet and squinting at the dim glow of its screen. 

“I can see you shivering from here. Helpful hint—gloves need fingers if you want them to actually keep your hands warm.”

“Alright, alright, I'm coming,” Jyn sighed, making a performance out of her grudging agreement. If she played along, maybe Cassian would sleep with her tonight—and she meant sleep, as in share blankets for body heat; Force knew it was too cold for sex.

She locked her camera away in its case before trailing after Cassian down the broad staircase to the grand lobby. Despite the high ceiling, it was relatively warm down here. The MSF crew lodged in the other wing of the hotel had closed all the doors leading out of the lobby and built a roaring bonfire in a huge stone hearth she suspected had been mainly ornamental until now. 

They’d also dragged most of the furniture into the radius of the firelight. Jyn found a seat on an upholstered bench, and only bristled a little for show when Cassian sat beside her. A bottle of something was making its way around the circle. Cassian sniffed at it suspiciously and then tossed back a draught, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and passing the bottle to her. 

Jyn drank and winced—it was even harsher than the stuff Melshi brought from home. She handed the bottle on to her neighbour and wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the fire. The flames crackled and sang and flowed in bright shapes that mesmerized her with a sense of formless patterns.

“Warm enough?” Cassian tipped his head down, checking on her.

Jyn blinked, half-blinded by starbursts of light behind her eyelids. “Could be warmer.” Mellowed by the drink, she pulled his arm around her and tucked herself into his side. Faint afterimages still streaked across her vision. 

“Have you ever seen the Eye?” she asked. Cassian had mentioned that he’d been to Aldhani before; he’d taught her a few words of Dhani. 

“No,” he said quietly. “It only happens every three years—the next time is more than a year away. And I don’t know if the Dhani want outsiders seeing it… but the Empire doesn’t.”

“I wish I could see it,” she said wistfully.

Aldhani had simmered under the Empire for years, never quite docile but grudgingly obedient. Then the Imps dammed a river and tried to flood the sacred valley—and the Dhani erupted. Their unexpected resistance had brought Jyn here, to this Imperial resort town built in the hope of turning pacified Aldhani into a tourist destination. So far, judging by the number of power outages, the Dhani were proving stubbornly unpacified. 

Jyn and Cassian didn’t talk openly about politics—it was too dangerous. As the foster-daughter of a man the ISB had killed, Jyn mostly kept her head down and hoped they’d forgotten about her. But Cassian barely hid his smouldering hatred of the Empire. Jyn had seen him strain at the narrow bounds of faux “neutrality” MSF was forced to work within; she’d listened to him rage at being used as proof of official benevolence by the government that had caused the damage they were allowed to alleviate only in part.

“One day.” He pressed his cheek against her hair, speaking low into her ear, and his arm tightened around her. “One day we both will.”

For once, Jyn didn’t scoff at his unfounded hope. She only leaned into his side and closed her eyes and imagined what that would be like.

-

A/N: for some reason, this has become my AU of choice for domestic fluff? Probably because I can make it a happier universe in which the Empire is defeated a lot earlier than it happened in canon!

[shiphappensmate]

The Soft Melody (Of Your Heart Beating)

973 words total

Hurt/Comfort

Harringrove (Billy/Steve)

There was an old piano on his house.

Well, it was his parent's house but they were barely in Hawkins, since he turned eleven years old they barely stayed for three months a year.

Anyhow, the old thing was more a decoration than an instrument.

He could barely remember taking piano classes when he was six years old at his mother's request. He's pretty sure no one has touched it since then.

Steve barely paid it any attention. He sometimes looked at it, messing around with the thought of playing again but it has been so long that he couldn't remember how to make anything sound good.

So the piano just remained untouched for years.

A lonely existence that he somewhat felt akin to his own.

It was a spring day when he invited Billy to stay over at his house and it happened.

Surprisingly, the other boy was easy to get along with after everything.

He even considered him as a friend now.

They had started to spend time together, sometimes at parties, the parking lot of the Arcade after they had dropped their respective kids, the quarry or at his own house with Billy staying on one of the guest rooms.

It was one of these days where they both stayed inside watching a movie, eating greasy pizza and smoking.

The best kind of day in his opinion.

So the next morning at the early hour, he was on the bathroom getting ready for the day and washing his face mutiple times to fully wake up.

Thank god it wasn't a school day.

He murmured to himself, drying his face with a towel when he heard it.

Or he thought he did.

He paused, trying to listen carefully for whatever that was.

And he heard it again.

Just a soft ting and he stopped in place.

Did something fell?

Was Billy messing with anything?

He moved to leave his room to find what happened, hastily opening the door and approaching the staircase.

Right when he was heading down the stairs he heard it.

Just a soft melody coming from downstairs.

He was certain that it wasn't a musical piece, at least it didn't sound like the Beethoven or Mozart from his mother's vinyls. It was simply a soft tune.

Someone was playing the piano… but the only person in the house except from him was Billy.

Wanting to hear more he slowly approached the room where the piano resided and he found Billy seated on the bench, hunched over the piano keys.

The bright and soft music emanating from his fingers clashed against the boy's appearance and everything he thought he knew about the other.

But honestly, did he even knew him?

That thought brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

"You know how to play it?"

The resulting bram sound coming from the piano made him wince.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't think-" He flailed a little as Billy suddenly stood, his back still turned towards him. He couldn't see his face, did he made him angry?

"It's just…" He trailed off, nervously moving a hand messing his hair, "that piano hasn't been touched in years." He said as he pointed needlessly towards it.

He couldn't stop moving, it was something he did when nervous, and boy did Billy made him nervous. Well... he moved constantly and talked. A lot.

"So having someone who knows how to play it is amazing, really. I'm pretty sure no one played it for at least ten years."

At that Billy slowly turned his face towards him, a look of confusion on his face, "Why do you have a piano if you don't use it?"

Ah! Finally!

Steve breathed out in relief.

"Decoration." Steve grimaced, "Mom bought it and she wanted me to learn how to play it, had tutors coming over and everything." He said as he approached the piano, carefully taking a seat on the bench.

"Think you can teach me?" He asked hopefully as he placed his hands on top of the white keys.

He smiled encouragingly to the other, watching as Billy slowly took a seat next to him.

It took a few moments and Steve messing up some notes making the piano sound like a dying whale for Billy to move.

"How did you learn?" Steve asked softly, it felt like one of these very intimate moments and he feared that speaking would break whatever was happening between them.

Billy remained silent for a moment, his fingers still moving along the keys and Steve worried he had messed up until he spoke, "My mom."

There wasn't much he could say to that. I'm sorry? That phrase doesn't even help, and he knew that by first hand.

He could only be here and lend a listening ear, or a shoulder to cry on, if he needed it.

"And this song?" Steve began, glancing at Billy taking in his movements, "I don't think I recognize it. Granted I'm not big on classical music," hw shrugged, "but it's really pretty."

It was minute but he saw how his fingers faltered for a second, "It was our song. Just something me and my mom did together."

Steve paused and turned towards him in the bench, Billy kept playing but he seemed to become erratic as he swallowed in what he thought was anxiety.

"We used to mess around on an old piano at her parent's house."

Steve couldn't stop himself and reached out as Billy fumbled with the keys, pressing the same set of notes over and over trying to make it sound right but either too high strung to play it or he couldn't remember.

He could only hold the other trying to not pay attention at the tremors and the damp spot that was growing on the side of his neck.

[acciojaeyun]

venus among the stars | fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x gn!reader warnings: none, just fluff and babie freddie prompt: "you awfully know me so much for someone who doesn't talk to me," "that doesn't mean i don't observe you,"

a/n: i just realised after i wrote this that james phelps (fred weasley) is really an astronomer! this is coincidental and not really planned. i just can't help but associate sleeping at last's venus with fred. :>

summary: fred had been at the astronomy tower for some time now. he loved looking at the stars and planets, little did he know, he was already venus in somebody's eyes.

"Where are you heading off, Freddie?" George asked as he watched Fred stand up while messily putting all of his quills and parchment away. "The tower, I could pretty much use a breather right now. Umbridge's a pain in the arse." Fred muttered, not minding to listen to whatever George had to say in response - he was too clouded in his mind to do so, anyway.

Fred had been on the receiving end of the stress that was inherent to being a seventh year. He knew George had it too, but he was in awe of how he can easily manage it as if it were something not too much of a deal.

At some point, he envied how George seemed like he got everything sorted out. He had to give him the appreciation for that. Hey, George was always the one who assessed most of their pranks; from that, it wasn't new knowledge to Fred if George wasn't that stressed out over life in general.

That is why he had been in the Astronomy Tower more than usual. Looking at the constellations each night, reminiscing his second year in Hogwarts and how he was trying to memorise the name of constellations at the back of his head - something he took pride in himself, he was fascinated with Astronomy, that loud boy. He found calm within the stars and the planets.; and the occurrence of Umbridge made him find a significant purpose other than peace: sanity. That was why Fred had been in the Astronomy Tower regularly.

Little did he know or maybe not, someone was observing him for some quite time now. All along, Fred knew he was alone. The student lurking seated at the last step of the Astronomy Tower proved otherwise. Y/N had seen Fred one time in the Astronomy Tower one night they had been later than their usual time in visiting the tower.

To Y/N, Fred was beauty. They couldn't deny it. The night of the Yule Ball they had seen Fred in its wool vest and black coat with his hair falling perfectly as if it were like dominoes, he had never left Y/N's mind.

Now, Y/N had dedicated constellations to Fred more often than not. He had been something that had given them hope. His smiles and laughs had become Y/N's source of happiness as well; and as the year progressed and the arrival of Umbridge had manifested in Hogwarts, they couldn't help but notice the light in Fred's eyes diminish increasingly.

They had been debating over themselves about it for some quite time now. They had always been wanting to approach Fred, but they were too scared to do so. They had placed Fred in a pedestal, unwillingly, at that. But they couldn't help it, he was ethereal. A figure of magic and love rolled into one.

Tonight was one of those times. They had seen Fred in the Great Hall, writing in dinner tonight; which was very unusual of him. When Fred had gotten up to go to the Astronomy Tower - they presume - they had waited out a bit before following him in his tracks.

Which leads to tonight, with Y/N seated on the last steps of the stairs. They were looking at Fred's face lost in thought, arms leaning on the rails of the tower, moonlight illuminating the crevices of his face.

Y/N felt the unexplainable pull towards Fred. But even though they had been experiencing that for quite some time, they couldn't find any strength in them to actually approach them. He was too high, the Fred Weasley. And who were they? Y/N Y/L/N. To them, it was such a laughable concept.

"How long have you been here?" Fred asked as he towered over the seated figure, making Y/N choke on air and stand up rather messily. "Oh – about that, uh – I have been here for just like – like now?" they reasoned, hands instantly shaking and sweating up out of embarrassment and butterflies.

Fred looked at them and licked his lips. "Oh, were you going to the Tower?"

"I mean, I am technically at the Tower, anyway, so..." they trailed off, internally slapping themselves for such a response.

The ginger boy chuckled, "Oh, sorry. You're right. I'm leaving already, anyway. The tower is yours."

"Right," they answered quickly, earning yet another mental slap.

Fred smiled and excused himself, Y/N trying their best not to turn around to follow his trail.

"Oh, and," they heard Fred call after them.

Y/N turned their body towards the direction of his voice, they had terrible eyesight especially when it's dark. And it's not helping the situation as Fred was already at the bottom of the stairs.

"You are welcome to join me anytime." he smiled and turned away from Y/N's dumbfounded figure.

The stiff fellow then shook their head whilst smiling to themselves. They now went to replace Fred's then place, smiling at the clumps of stars at the pitch black sky.

Days passed and Y/N had been trying to catch Fred in the Astronomy Tower, but they had not been met with the familiar figure of the ginger-haired twin.

"Waiting for someone?"

Just as when Y/N almost gave up in trying to catch Fred, there goes the Weasley leaning at the frame just a few meters away from the staircase. "Yeah," Y/N smiled, "I was waiting for him for three days, actually."

Fred frowned, guilt consuming him instantly. "I'm sorry, I got caught up with my studies."

"Oh, don't be sorry. I was just kidding, Fred."

He let out a faux exhale, "I thought you were serious, Y/N."

"You know my name?"

The boy furrowed their eyebrows. "Should I not?"

"No, no. It's that we just - you don't talk to me that much..." they trailed off.

"Ah," Fred pushed himself from the doorframe, walking towards the side of Y/N who has been watching his every step. "We may not talk that much, but that doesn't mean I haven't noticed you."

Y/N looked bewildered, making Fred smile more. "I – uh, may I ask when, and how?"

"We've been going here for weeks now, Y/N."

"Yeah, and –"

"You like the moon, correct?"

"Yes?"

"Your favourite moon is Callisto."

"You awfully know me so much for someone who doesn't talk to me." Y/N chuckled. "That doesn't mean I don't observe you," Fred countered, meeting Y/N's curious eyes that he had been wanting to look into forever – much more often than the stars at the sky.

Y/N took a huge leap of faith, scooting closer towards Fred, leaning their head on his shoulder albeit strugglingly. "If I hadn't liked you for a long time, I would've been running off the staircase now." Y/N kid, as Fred laughed in response.

"I saw you here last week, actually," Fred started. "I wanted to look at the stars that night because they seem so serene, you know?"

Y/N hummed. "They're silent beauty."

"Just like yours," Fred whispered. "I never knew I'd find you in the midst of those beautiful constellations, Y/N."

As Fred was met with silence as a response, he took that opportunity to continue with what he's been dying to say since the moment he saw them. He leaned his head on top of Y/N's, "You found me, Y/N."

"What do you mean, Fred?"

"You pulled me into focus." he whispered back, as serenity found its way in Fred's whole being.

Maybe the year wasn't going to be so bad. Fred, being the lad who always had perfected executions of the things he found fascinating, had found Venus when he was experimenting with his calculations. An astronomer at best, Fred had found his whole universe, Y/N; who was beautiful as endless.

[cherriesfineline]

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

&

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

&

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

&

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.