#and now here i am with my three main muses all being boys

[cheapxseats]

me: i don't need to post new starters for colt he has a lot of threads right now

also me: okay just one more

[sp-by-april]

You Could Be My Muse: 04. Boy Problems

I promised @angel-gone-dark that if he posted ch2 of his fic that features me, I would post ch4 of Muse featuring him. Besties in all AUs, you love to see it.

There's a smut writing club at South Park High! Their favorite muses are Mysterion and... Kyle? After Cartman instigates a bet between Kenny and Kyle to get them to compete for April, the club's newest member, Stan's trying to figure out Eric's angle.

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Read All On AO3!] [Kenny Master List] [Kyle Master List]

The bet was made. Now all Kenny had to do was go through with it. He tried to formulate a plan as he dug through his locker.

“So Kenny,” Cartman began as he leaned on the locker next to his, “You decide how you’re gonna win her over and get us that pile of money? Kevin, Scott and David all added to the pot when they found out,”

Kenny rolled his eyes, “I’m still figuring it out,”

“Her date with Kyle is tonight, but it's highly probable that he’ll ruin his chances all on his own and then you can swoop right in,” Cartman mused.

Then as if it was an after-thought, Eric added, “It probably wouldn’t hurt to ask Leigh,”

Kenny frowned, “Leigh? Isn’t he the guy that hangs around the Writing Club?”

“He doesn’t hang around the Writing Club, he’s the only guy in the Writing Club. He’s also, like, April’s best friend. If you want to get to her, you should talk to him,”

“Her best friend is a dude?” 

Shit. That’s gotta be the guy she likes, right? 

No, they're best friends, she said she didn't think he knew she existed. Theoretically that would rule out Kyle too, but the way he pretended not to care, maybe she really bought it.

Eric shrugged, if he worried about the lives of girls like April he'd never get anything done, “Yeah, he should be doing shit with the Cooking Club right about now,”

“There's a cooking club?” Kenny blinked.

 “Am I the only one that pays attention to anything that happens in this school?” Cartman threw his hands in the air.

Kenny thought he felt a headache coming on, “Just shut up and tell me which classroom they meet in,” 

💜 ❔ 💚

Stan scrolled through his phone, pretending to listen to Kyle as he bitched. He started to text Luna, wondering if she knew how serious April was about this whole date-thing.

"I mean," Kyle threw his hands up, “Who does that? Kenny’s supposed to be my friend–”

“I’m sure he was thinking the same thing,” Stan said flatly.

Kyle blinked, “What do you mean? I did nothing wrong here. He’s the one –”

“I know you’ve been into her for a while, but this disinterested act you’ve liked to pull lately isn’t doing you any favors," Stan sighed, "You can just say you think she’s cute, and it’s okay to admit that you know she has boobs,” 

Kyle rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “I mean, obviously I know she has boobs,”

“Oh, we know that you know. Just fucking admit it once in awhile. You never would’ve even gone after her if Kenny being into her hadn’t varied whatever weird risk-reward calculation you had running in your brain,”

“Bullshit,”

Stan punched Kyle in the shoulder, “Admit it,”

“There’s nothing to–” Kyle winced from another punch, even harder this time, “What the hell?”

“Stop lying, no one’s buying it,” Stan pulled his fist back again, “Especially not me,”

“I never fucking lied, the boobs just weren’t the main–”

Stan punched Kyle again. Kyle threw his left arm around Stan’s neck and punched back with the right. Before long they were on the ground exchanging blows until Stan came out on top and had Kyle pinned. 

“Ahem,” Eric cleared his throat, “ I don’t know how you guys managed to turn a fight over tits into something completely fucking gay, but I shouldn’t be surprised,”

Kyle sucker punched Stan in the stomach and he rolled off of him with all the grace of a drowning rat.

Eric frowned, “Don’t let me stop you. While you’re getting handsy with Stan, Kenny is with Leigh, securing me a pile of money,”

Kyle hopped up swiftly, “Shit, he knows about Leigh?”

Stan was worried. No one could snatch defeat from the jaws of victory like Kyle.

On top of it, Stan knew a con when he saw one. Cartman was more likely to sabotage Kyle’s chance with any girl, but especially one he knew he was risking public humiliation by pursuing with a bet on the outcome, and that's before even bringing in her race and religion into it.

The more he thought about it, April was right as far as Kenny’s type and Kyle’s. She was the perfect carrot to dangle if Eric wanted to distract them both, but… Why?

Stan was the first to admit he didn’t have the brain-power to see all the angles and the two guys he knew that did were the ones all wrapped up in beating each other and winning the girl.

He needed someone close enough to know all the players, but far enough to see the bigger picture.

💜 ❔ 💚

Kenny finally tracked down the baking club on the second floor. He poked his head in the classroom and the smells of baked goods lured him the rest of the way. 

He scoped out the group and saw Leigh in the back. He was a fairly short guy with silver glasses. Brown hair with blue tips.  At first glance, he definitely seemed cool enough to be April’s best friend. 

Kenny approached cautiously, he didn't want to spook the guy, “Leigh?” 

“Kenny?" Leigh blinked, "I assume you're not here for a crepe,”

“I wouldn't turn one down, but I wanted to talk to you about April," Kenny awkwardly swirled his hands around each other, "Are you two, like… You know?”

“No way,” Leigh snorted, “Trust me, she's not my type,”

Oh. Guess that's the final nail in that theory. 

Kenny awkwardly scratched his nose hoping he didn't make too much of an ass of himself by even asking, “Gotcha,” 

“She has a date with Kyle tonight," Leigh said switching off the burner, "I heard that you turned her down,”

I did? When she asked to hang out?

Shit.

I guess I did.

"In my defense–”

“Let me guess, you didn't even realize she was asking you out? I keep telling that girl she needs to be more direct…” Leigh shook his head as he tossed a pan in the sink next to Kenny.

“More or less,” Kenny sighed, “I need to know how to get her to ditch Kyle and go out with me,” 

Leigh shrugged, “I can't help you,” 

“What!? Why not?” Kenny asked thinly.

The feeling that he was really doomed in this endeavor started to crush him like a weight.

“She's got a lot of pride. You turned her down, she'll probably marry him out of spite. But I don't know, even if there's nothing you can do, someone else might be able to win her over,” Leigh glanced up at Kenny over the frame of his glasses, “If you catch my drift,”

Kenny nodded. He got the message. He was pretty sure he got it, anyway.

💜 ❔ 💚

Kyle was an inch away from a panic attack.

He picked a simple first date. Coffee. They could talk. He could walk her home. 

It seemed like a good plan.

Except now he realized the plan was stupid, he was stupid, Kenny had surely learned everything there was to know about April from Leigh, and by this time next week would probably be taking a video of himself motorboating her just to rub it in his face.

Then April strolled inside Tweek Bros and he knew he was done for.

She was stunning. Kyle took inventory as he tried not to stare. Black dress. Short. Her long hair was up with some stray loose curls, that were undoubtedly meticulously planned. He didn't think he'd ever seen her with curls. Her make up was immaculate, with a dark red lip. He wondered how much work she put in to look so effortlessly hot.

“You look really…”  Kyle's jaw hung slack, but the words wouldn't come out.

[27-royal-teas]

YET !!! ANOTHER ANALYSIS!! And for good reason this time because people keep misinterpreting Pete’s work to be about Mikey and it makes me fucking PISSED can you not let pete have one thing in his goddamn life i get it its fine to have headcanons and opinions but PLEASE for the love of god please stop discrediting all of his hard work & good writing to be about a white boy he fucked back in ‘05 this CONSTANTLY happens with poc artists and it makes me mad to no end

yep, that’s right. today we’re talking about I Am My Own Muse. writing this essay i have listened to it a grand total of twenty three times 

i like this song a lot specifically because i do kind of relate to it a lot frequently i feel like smashing a guitar until i go insane but i dont have a guitar and i dont know how to play one regardless so. uh yeah

The thing about IAMOM is that it’s saying that in the TITLE. Hes his own muse. And obviously no one can take that away. sure , some of his songs might be inspired by someone, but in the long run, who do they come from? pete. romance songs might not be about anyone in particular. I know ive wrote songs that could be interpreted as romance, but they’re actually me talking to my younger self or my future self or my friend, and the point is, even though songs written by pete may seem like they were about someone that doesnt mean they are and you cant, you CANNOT discredit the fact that he is his own muse. just like the song title says.

The song begins with a BANGING orchestral arrangement. I think the intro to IAMOM is my favorite song intro on the album. It's just very well thought out and clearly carefully planned, and quite honestly I think patrick did an AMAZING job and I'd love to see him do a breakdown of the composition here because I am IMPRESSED. Not even to mention the vocals, he is on FIRE. anyway in the rest of this essay I’ll be interpreting the lyrics and tying them back to the central topic i just opened with: How Pete Is His Own Muse. 

The first verse is quiet, and it begins like this:

“Here i am, not sure you should take a chance

I like playing dumb, letting you figure me out

But i was faded in my own defense

So drop a bomb on the things we dreamed about”

I feel as though this verse is very clear. He isnt sure that the person he’s referring to should take a chance on him, should think that he is worth it, and he likes being able to be up to someone else’s interpretation with no outside influence. i do this frequently with strangers- i stay quiet so that they can make up their own idea in their head about me. They can figure me out themself, since i clearly cant figure myself out, and i think that’s the idea pete is really aiming for here. ‘So drop a bomb on all the things we dream about” can be referring to himself or someone else, but here let’s take it in the context that he’s discussing himself. This line is repeated in the second verse, so it’s clearly one of the main points that needed to be stated here; here he is saying to himself that (again, it’s that self sabotage) he should give it up, give it all up, it’s not worth it, destroy it all, drop a bomb on all our dreams because they aren’t going to happen. Taken together with the previous lines we can basically say that pete is saying that because he is leaving himself open to interpretation from the public, the things he truly meant to say are lost. And i think that’s the main thing here, especially with the title, and obviously im doing it myself, maybe this isnt what he meant at all, but i definitely do think it correlates along those lines to some degree. 

The chorus is repeated several times throughout the song (3 times to be specific) and it goes like this:

“Smash all the guitars ‘til we see all the stars

Oh got to throw this year away

We got to throw this year away like

A bad luck charm” 

And then that repeats twice. 

I think i can safely say everyone reading this right now has gone through the pandemic. I assume three year olds dont go on tumblr. The entire smfs album references 2020 and 2019 time and time again, most critically in What A Time To Be Alive, and it’s heavily present in this song too. “Got to throw this year away (like a bad luck charm)” vocalizes the wishes of pete and everyone else who wishes to cut those years out of their brains- pete has expressed in interviews how taxing the pandemic really was on his mental health, and i think that “smash all the guitars” could symbolize the frustration and pain he really felt in that time; destroying music (one of the main things he loves) until he can sink into that despair and just float away (“‘til we see all the stars”). Another way this can be interpreted is an act of rebellion (a lot of musical artists smash their guitars during shows, cough ryan ross cough) but i dont really think that that makes as much sense in this context. 

The next verse:

“The trumpets bring the angels but they never came

No one let them in ‘cause they didnt know my name

I know i keep my feelings so tucked away

Just another day spent hoping we dont fall apart

So drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about”

Another very pete based verse (BECAUSE HE IS HIS OWN MUSE). This kind of links to Heaven’s Gate because it’s related to the same thing- not making it on the list, not feeling worthy of getting into heaven, because this sort of self deprecation is reflected throughout most of Fall Out Boy’s albums. I could give a million examples of this, but I don’t want to be here forever. “The trumpets bring the angels but they never came/ no one let them in ‘cause they didn’t know my name” sort of brings to mind the image of a person waiting to be carried away to something they’re not entirely sure they deserve, and they’re proven correct because no one ever came to carry them away, no one ever decided that they’d be on the list to get to heaven and the angels just went marching past and pete can hear their horns, know theyre there for people who deserve heaven much more than he does. How sad is that?

“I know i keep my feelings so tucked away/ just another day spent hoping we dont fall apart” carries the feeling of not wanting to be a burden with every emotion thought and expressed, even the good ones, and ‘we’ can be referring to himself, every single aspect of himself, hoping he doesn’t fall apart into shards of the stars his guitar is made up of. and then of course it’s the line about the bomb again, although this time it feels even more internalized and personal because it’s the second time he said it, and he dreams of getting into heaven but how can he make it up there if the angels themselves know he does not deserve to and so. drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about, folks, because they aren’t going to happen. 

The bridge: 

“So let’s twist the knife again, twist the knife again

like we did last summer

So let’s twist the knife again, twist the knife again

Oh, i’m just trying to keep it together

But it gets a little harder when it never gets better I'm trying

To keep it together, to keep it together, oh”

To me this entire bridge just feels really deeply confessional and personal. Im going to start at the bottom because i like it the best. 

He’s trying. He’s trying so damn hard- to be optimistic, to be hopeful and stay full of happiness and love but it’s SO HARD when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel to motivate him. This is still talking about quarantine, i think; i remember i was in middle school at the time; they said that we would be back in two weeks. I remember i was grateful to get a break and time off. Then two weeks turned into two years and it got really, really hard to see an end to the pandemic. When things stop improving it gets harder and harder to keep it together when you can’t see the results of any of your actions, when you’re trying your best but it still gets you nowhere. Wouldn’t you stop trying? i know i would.

And let’s talk about “let’s twist the knife” just a little bit. “Last summer” might refer to the last album release, which is Mania (even though it was released in January). Another album cycle, another twist of the knife; another bit of words that pete has to pull out of himself like ribbons, and although he loves it, that’s his job, it still feels like dredging up all the pain again. So let’s twist the knife again, dig it in just a little deeper, just like we did before. 

So, yeah. Pete is his own muse and i truly do think that that is heavily reflected in this song, even this whole album. A lot of songs in smfs seem more him-centered, because he is the writer and he is talking about himself. So Good Right Now and What  A Time To Be Alive are especially good examples of this. 

And the interesting thing about the title is that it’s pulled from a Frida Kahlo quote, which goes like this: 

“I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best. I am the subject I want to better.”

And isn’t that just it? This whole album, it’s an album of self discovery and going back to your roots and staying current anyway. It’s patrick pulling pete out of his funk and getting him back in the game; it’s an exploration of a new style, a new fall out boy. And like a phoenix, every album they rise again, still the same but somehow completely brand new. The orchestral arrangements displayed in IAMOM and SMFS and LFTOS showcase this, the new feeling but still the same, something bettered, and I’m really, really happy with how far they’ve come not only in their expansion of music but also with themselves. And I feel like this song and this title- I Am My Own Muse- is really a stand up, it’s a show of how far they’ve come. Because they are the subject they know the best.

[biggest-stupidhead]

AN: Here’s part 2 of my nurse reader and Levi request! It recently came to my attention that I was lowkey confused, I realize that you guys were asking for part 2 to my solider Levi and princess reader but I’ve been working on this one instead😂😂 So I’ll try and get to that other one soon. 

ALSO 139 SPOILERS 

Part 1

Summary: Levi’s dreams are coming true

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: mentions of scarring, blood, struggling to walk, kissing, angst

_______

The first few weeks were rough, he struggled to do the most mundane tasks, his fingers shook as he gripped a pen, his breathing was labored when he climbed stairs. He hated every second of it, he knew that this was part of being injured and recovering, but still, he felt weak and exposed. He also knew that it was unlikely that he would ever be the same as he was before his accident, this didn’t bother him too much. However, the thought of you only knew him as a frail wounded soldier rubbed him the wrong way. 

He used this as motivation to better his condition, with the knowledge that he would not function the same as before. He quickly found out that holding a pen in his right hand was now much too difficult, so he began practicing with his left instead. He also realized that being in a wheelchair was not for him. He hated being pushed by anyone, mainly because Gabi once lost control and sent him rolling down a busy street. So he began to use a cane or crutch, he also found out that he tired much faster using this method. But he much preferred it to the chair. 

After only three months of being discharged, Onyankopon had sniffed out an affordable space to open a modest cafe. The space also had a short set of stairs that led to a one-bedroom apartment above, which originally deterred Onyankopon from investing due to Levi’s state. But Levi had insisted that he would manage, so on a gloomy Thursday afternoon, they signed the papers and bought the place. Gabi and Flaco had been ecstatic to help decorate the space, scouring antique shops and pawn shops for the best (and cheapest) pieces of furniture. 

Levi had watched the pair carry in the first table, a round wooden piece fit for two along with mismatched chairs to go along with it. At first, Levi disliked the way the furniture clashed, but he soon grew to like it. As the kids slowly carried in more each week the space began to feel homier. The kitchen in the back was teeming with tins of tea, recipes that Onyankopon swore by were tacked up on bulletin boards. Each weekend Onyankopon would bring the kids back with armloads of ingredients to test out the recipes he had been gathering while Levi had been in the hospital. 

Soon they had perfected a menu, with croissants that were crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, sticky-sweet cinnamon rolls, and lemon tarts. Levi had never been a fan of sweets, but he knew that most people were, so each weekend they slaved over the stoves and made huge messes of flour and sugar. After two months the cafe was rather put together, tables and chairs of all sorts spread about the room in an inviting pattern. A chalkboard menu that was slowly expanding was sprawled out over the main counter, which was being stocked with pastries. 

Onyankopon had brought in a box full of glassware that he had found on the side of the street, Levi had sneered at him as he watched him carefully wash them. 

“What are you planning to do with those?” Levi asked as Onyankopon scrubbed the dust off of the glass. 

“We can use them as centerpieces. Maybe we could cut some flowers from that field?” He said as he placed the glass vases and cups on the drying rack. 

“I suppose,” Levi grumbled, happy that he hadn’t planned on using them as cups. 

Finally, the day came when the menu was rounded enough and the furniture polished to open the shop. Levi hated to admit his nerves, but the truth was that his stomach was in knots and his heart was hammering out of his chest as he flipped the wooden sign on the door from closed to open. 

Gabi had whooped and hollered, Falco had clapped ecstatically and Onyankopon popped open a bottle of champagne. Levi had given them the slightest of smiles as the group retreated behind the counter to wait for someone to wander in. Levi sat back on a stool that Falco had thrifted for behind the counter, his cane resting against his knee as he watched the door with a steady gaze. 

“Can I be in charge of the pastries?” Gabi pleaded, big brown eyes wide as she clasped her hands together. Onyankopon shot a sideways look to Levi who inhaled sharply. 

“As long as you don’t spit in the food.” Levi relented and Gabi leaped into the air in her excitement before jogging back into the kitchen to take stock. 

“Falco you can carry food out.” Onyankopon offered and Falco nodded a gleam of determination in his golden eyes. 

“I’ll run the register and Levi you can brew the tea.” Onyankopon looked pleased with himself after assigning the roles and Levi shrugged in indifference. The minutes ticked by and the door remained shut, the wide windows let the warm morning sun seep into the room, yet it carried no joy. Or at least it didn’t summon any deep feelings from within Levi. Just when Levi was about to give up and go brew himself his own tea before calling it a day, the door opened, the bell tinkling softly. 

His mouth fell open when he saw you, in your plain clothes, a pair of dark dress pants and a silk dress shirt. Your purse was slung over your shoulder and in your hands was a bright bouquet of flowers. You pushed some stray strands of hair off of your face as you stepped into the cafe. 

“(Y/n)! You made it!” Falco rushed around the counter and took your hand in his to lead you to the counter. You laughed warmly and allowed the young boy to drag you across the room. 

“You’re the first person to come in.” Onyankopon mused softly as he stood behind the register, hands placed firmly on the counter. Your eyes widened in surprise before another warm grin passes placidly across your features. 

“I am?” You asked, leaning on the counter and throwing a playful glance at Levi who was half hiding behind Onyankopon. 

“It’s true.” Gabi groaned dramatically fanning her face, she had been fidgeting anxiously in the back for the past hour eager to serve guests. 

“What can I get the good nurse?” Onyankopon steered the conversation back to business as usual. 

“Ah, I’d love a cup of camomile and hmm maybe one of those lemon tarts.” You hummed, leaning over to examine the pastries that had been set on display in the glass containers. 

“Excellent choice, that’ll be seven pounds.” Onyankopon slid the key into the keyhole in the register and the old thing sprang open, spilling some change. He chuckled as he awkwardly collected the spare change. 

“Takes a gentle hand.” He explained as you smiled at him with the money in hand. Levi sighed and reached around Onyankopon to take the money as the larger man squatted down to retrieve the stubborn coins. 

“Congratulations Captain, you’ve made this place your own.” You said, slipping the money into his hands, the pads of your fingertips brushing his calloused palm. 

“Thank you, nurse (L/n).” He mumbled, trying in vain to fight off the butterflies swarming in his stomach. 

“You’re so very welcome.” You watched as the rag-tag bunch began to hustle around the kitchen, Levi limped to the stove and began to boil the water in the kettle, Gabi was pulling on a pair of gloves before she began to inspect the pastries, looking for the best one. Falco gestured for you to follow him to that round table at the front of the store, right by the large window. You covered your mouth to hide an affectionate grin as he pulled the chair out for you. You sat and thanked him as you made yourself comfortable. 

“I’ll bring your food to you miss.” He even did a bow which was when you could no longer hide your amusement. 

“Falco, too much.” Onyankopon was also laughing behind the counter as the young boy scurried back to grab your pastry, which Gabi had carefully chosen just for you. Levi was now steeping the leaves in one of the mismatched sets of china that they had collected. Once the tea was steeped to perfection he set it on the tray with the pastry and Falco carefully picked it up, using both hands. 

He set the steaming plates in front of you and you thanked him once more. You felt a bit awkward as the group watched with expectant eyes as you took the first bite. Your eyes lit up, it was just the perfect mixture of sweet and sour, the breading crumbling on your tongue. 

You nodded and held a thumbs up which made Gabi clap her hands and squeal. Falco laughed and shook her shoulder, a giddy gleam in his eyes. Levi bit back another smile, not eager to let you pull them from his lips so easily. A few moments after you had begun to eat, the door tinkled open again, this time it was an older couple. They ordered and sat down near you, murmuring about the decor and such. As the morning wore on, more people began to wander into the shop, families and starry-eyed couples alike. You sat at your table, a small amount of paperwork from the hospital spread across the tabletop. You worked well into the afternoon, not necessarily because you needed to but because you wanted to catch Levi and check in on him. 

You got your chance when the crowd ebbed and the orders slowed. The shop was once more empty and you could see the way that Levi limped between the sink and the stove. You gathered your courage and stood from your spot, leaving your purse and papers behind. Onyankopon was helping the kids in the back as they prepped for the pastries for tomorrow. 

“I’ll dry if you wash.” You offered and Levi shot you a look over his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“I’ve been taking up that table all day, let me earn my keep.” You teased, carefully stepping behind the counter and into the kitchen. He did not oppose as you sidled up beside him and began to towel dry the dishes he had already scrubbed clean. You worked like this for a few minutes in silence, the sound of dishes and sloshing of water filling the air between you. 

“You seem to have healed well.” You commented as you accepted another clean plate. 

“Hm.” He hummed, eyes trained on his task. You noted that he no longer wore bandages on his hand where his fingers had once been. 

“How’s your knee?” You asked and he bristled a bit. 

“....it’s fine.” He said after a slight pause. 

“I can look at it if you’d like.” You offered and he inhaled slowly before releasing his breath in one long exhale. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Then let me look at your fingers, if you are doing dishes it’s likely to get infected.” You were a tad embarrassed to admit that you simply wanted to feel his skin against yours once more. But luckily Levi felt the same. He paused his work and grabbed a towel to dry his hands off before slowly extending them to you. You accepted them and ran your fingers over the callouses that decorated his palms before pulling his hand closer to your face to get a good look at the nubs where his fingers once were. 

Just as you had thought, they were fully healed with puckering pink flesh from where stitches had once been. 

“They look well, you should be fine, just...be mindful of how much time you spend washing the dishes.” You hummed, turning his hand over in yours to examine the back of it, old and new scars littered the expanse of his hands and up to his forearm.

“Okay.” His words were breathy and a bit choked. You snuck a glance up at his face and smiled sheepishly at him as you released his hand, which fell slowly back to his side. His cheeks were a soft pink, hints of a blush from the heat of your touch alone. 

“I would suggest looking into some gloves.” You advised and he rolled his eyes. 

“How am I supposed to wear gloves without my fingers?” He asked, holding his hand up as if to emphasize the loss. 

“You seem to have adapted well, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You assured him with a nudge to his side before you fell back into the easy rhythm of drying the dishes. 

____

You fell into a routine, stopping by when the cafe first opened to grab a cup of tea before your shift. Then you would go off to work and return later that afternoon to help Levi clean up. One rainy day you came in an hour later than usual, your scrubs soaked as you had forgotten an umbrella. Onyankopon and the kids had left earlier that week to go get the other cadets from Paradis, leaving Levi to tend to the shop alone. 

As you entered you flipped the sign to closed and then wrung your sopping wet hair. Levi stood behind the counter, watching you with his one steel eye. 

“What took you so long?” He asked before turning to do the dishes. You scoffed and looked back out at the window, the rain was pelting down mercilessly against the glass. But you said nothing, having learned long ago that arguing with him was pointless. 

“What have you got for me?” You asked instead wanting to throw yourself into the work he had for you. He put you to work in the kitchen, taking stock and sweeping the floors until you thought that you would collapse. It wasn’t that the work that was taxing, but the work on top of the hours you had already clocked in on your feet at the hospital. 

When he was pleased with your cleaning he waved you off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. Your clothes were still wet, as you watched him thumb through his earnings of the day in the register. You now knew a fraction of what he had put those cadets through all those years ago. 

“Levi?” You tested, his name falling sweetly from your lips. He turned slowly, pausing his counting to give you his full attention. 

“What is it?” He asked, placing the change back into the register. 

“How would you like to get some dinner?” You offered with a shy smile. His eyes widened and he whipped around to shut the register. 

“Only if you’re buying.” 

____

So now you sat across the table from him, your leg bouncing anxiously under the table inside the warm tavern. He seemed much less anxious, hands folded in front of him and his gaze void of any particular emotion. 

“So...you come here often?” You tried to start the conversation, for the first time finding it difficult. 

“No actually, I despise these places.” He answered literally and you nearly blanched, worried that you may have upset him or offended him in some way by bringing him here. 

“What? We don’t have to stay then we can-” You were reaching for your purse but he held up a hand to stop you. 

“It’s fine.” He assured you and you relaxed back into your seat. 

“Why do you hate these places?” You asked out of curiosity. 

“Not a fan of drunk men and shitty tavern food.” He shrugged indifferently. If he had been feeling braver he would have told you that it reminded him of his childhood and his mean drunk uncle. 

“Ah, I see.” Your shoulders slumped and you cleared your throat to fill the silence. 

“I don’t usually come to bars often either. Can’t trust me around beer.” You joked but Levi arched a thin brow. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Oh, my dad was a drunk and they say that it runs in the family. So I’ll never touch the stuff.” You shrugged and Levi was caught off guard with your honesty. He only hummed in response. Not long after that, the food arrived and the two of you ate in near silence, the sounds of forks scraping plates and wine sloshing in glasses. You paid for dinner and the two of you slowly made your way back down the street, which was slick with rainwater. You eyed Levi’s arm a bit longingly, wanting to feel his warmth pressed against you. You rubbed your biceps in an attempt to get the message across but he seemed clueless still. So you sighed and decided to take yet another risk, in one swift motion you slid your arm through his and he went rigid. His steps faltered and you looked over at him with a smirk curling at the corner of your lips. 

“Is...this alright?” you asked and he nodded tensely before resuming his pace. You were grateful that his apartment was so close to the tavern, as it began to pour once more. But of course, you could not run because you feared that he would injure himself, so the two of you simply picked up your pace. Levi held the door for you and the two of you stumbled into the dark cafe, the tables and chairs looked almost like skeletons as you weaved your way through them to the back set of stairs. 

“You can stay if you’d like.” he offered, a glimmer of uncertainty flashing over his features, clearly he was treading just as lightly as you were. 

“I’d like that very much.” You grinned and the two of you climbed the stairs to his small apartment. The floorplan was open, the kitchen and living room were all in one space. The furniture was also mismatched here, he set about lighting candles even though you knew that the building had electricity. You wondered if it was a force of habit, all of his years on that island with no electricity, or if it was an attempt to set the mood. You said nothing all the same as the candles set the room aglow in warm light. 

“It’s nice,” you commented and Levi hummed in agreement. 

“It’s no barracks.” He said as he shook the match, a small trail of smoke curling up from his fingertips. 

“Do you miss the military?” You asked as you slipped out of your shoes. He paused, a thoughtful look passing over his face as he pondered your question. 

“At times, there are things that I miss. But no, I wouldn’t go back.” he shook his head, damp locks of raven hair falling in curtains over his brow. 

“I can imagine.” You agreed as he slipped out of his coat and hung it on the coat rack, you did the same and he gestured for you to follow him to his room. 

“I have some dry clothes you can borrow.” He said as he sifted through his drawers, pulling out a simple cotton shirt and a pair of loose-fitting pants. He held them out to you and you accepted them with a smile. You noted that the clothes were larger than the ones that he pulled out and you wondered who they belonged to. 

“Whose clothes are these?” you asked out of curiosity and a pained look crossed his face. But you wondered if you had imagined it because of how quickly his features reset into his stoic mien. 

“An old friend.” That was all he said before leaving you to change. You pulled the clothes on slowly and carefully knowing that these are likely one of the last things he had that belonged to his friend. Once you were done you stepped out of the room to find Levi already changed and boiling a kettle over his small stove. The shirt hung loosely off of your frame and you pulled the collar up gently as you crossed the room to stand by his side. 

“Whatcha making?” You asked softly as he shot you a brief glance over his shoulder. 

“Tea.” He said bluntly as he reached up into the cabinets and pulled out two mugs. You hummed and moved to take a seat at the modest table that was pressed against the back of his couch. 

“Sounds good.” You said as you slipped into the seat, watching as he moved around his space. You noted the way his cane carried the majority of his weight, the way his fingers trembled as he poured the water to steep the tea leaves. You moved to get up and help him, but decided against it, reminding yourself that he was independent and could do these tasks on his own. Sure enough Levi finished the tea and carried the two cups over to you and placed them gently down on the table. 

You thanked him quietly and blew a puff of air over the surface of the green tea, sending ripples through the liquid. He watched you with unreadable features, hands crossed on the table and his cane resting against his thigh. 

“Tell me of your home.” You asked, daring a look over the rim of your cup. He inhaled and a far away look crossed his face as he thought of an appropriate response. 

“As I knew it or as it is now?” He mumbled as he brought his own cup to his lips. 

“Whichever you prefer.” 

“Hm.” He hummed as he let the hot liquid sit in his mouth hoping to buy himself more time. 

“Either way it was shitty.” He said after a few moments of silence. You set your cup down and gave him your full attention. 

“We never had much, and I can’t say that it was a happy life.” He said, sneaking a glance at you to guage your reaction. 

“I figured as much.” You commented and he shrugged. 

“There isn’t much left of the landscape after the rumbling, but that’s everywhere now.” He grumbled, beginning to lose himself in his own memories. 

“There used to be open fields and massive trees inside of the walls but…” He winced, flashes of blood and gnashing titan teeth, campfires, the heavy breathing of horses, explosions of thunder spears followed by the tangy metallic scent of blood. 

“Levi?” Your voice was soft and filled with concern, he snapped out of his reverie, his fists clenched around his cup. 

“Sorry.” He choked out, his tongue feeling fat and his mouth dry. 

“It��s alright, I shouldn’t have asked.” You waved your hands and quickly took a sip of your tea. 

“No, it’s not your fault.” He dismissed you, trying to calm the racing of his heart. 

“I’m sure that you’re tired, I’ll see myself out.” You began to scramble, reaching for your things and pushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Levi wasn’t sure why, but he felt an urgent need to reach out and grab you. Before he could dismiss the sense, his hand had already shot out and caught your wrist. 

You looked back at him with wide eyes, not moving a muscle. He stayed still as well, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. If he was hurting you, you showed no sign. 

“Don’t….it’s storming.” He said stupidly, as he stood keeping a hold on your wrist. Once he was on his feet he took a step towards you and his hand slipped down to intertwine his fingers with your own. 

“O-Okay.” You squeezed his fingers and he returned the gesture, eyes blank although they darted between your eyes and lips every few seconds. You took a step closer so that the tips of your feet touched his, your breaths mingling together. Finally his eyes settled on your lips and you unconsciously licked them as you wondered what he would taste like. Green tea no doubt, just as bitter and tangy as his personality seemed to be. 

You let out a shaky breath as he reached out, the back of his hand brushing that pesky piece of hair off of your cheek. He hesitated but gently grasped your face in his calloused palm, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You carefully broke free of his grasp on your hand so you could smooth down the fabric of his shirt above his heart. 

He swallowed thickly before lifting his chin, eyes trained on your lips. You tilted your head and met him the rest of the way, your lips slotting together perfectly. His other hand came to rest on the other side of your face, and you whimpered. You opened your mouth wider, your tongue slipping past his lips to taste him. He did taste like green tea after all, bitter and overwhelming. You couldn’t get enough, your hands slipping up the column of his throat to find the shaven underside of his hair. 

To your surprise he pulled away with a grunt, grey eyes wide and surprised. You looked back just as shocked but then you smiled. He blinked at you for a moment before pulling away completely and turning his back to you and running a hand through his locks. 

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me.” He apologized and you shook your head. 

“I actually quite liked it. You aren’t my patient anymore Levi.” He remained silent, his back turned to you in shame. 

“You’re not even a Captian anymore, you’re just a man.” You assured him and he turned to look at you now, eyes filled with a certain grief you couldn’t quite place. 

“Is that how you see me then?” His voice was flat and you couldn’t tell if he was offended or pleased with the response. 

“No, I see you as a good man, who has been hurt one too many times. Someone who needs a….companion.” You settled and he finally faced you once more. 

“I shouldn’t have done that to you.” He grunted, steadying himself on the table. 

“It’s okay Levi, I-I like you.” You felt like you were tripping over yourself to assure him that he was not crossing any lines. 

“....” He remained silent, those sad grey eyes trained on your face as your chest heaved, panic quickly raising. 

“I promise you I’m fine. I’ve actually been wanting to kiss you for some time now.” You sheepishly admitted, rubbing the side of your arm. 

“I know.” He groaned his hands coming to hide his eyes and you felt even more distressed, you should’ve known better. 

“Look, Levi I want to be with you, and if you want the same then we can be. You don’t have to-” 

“Damn it (Y/n) I want to, but I don’t” He let out another frustrated grunt before his fist came down hard on the table, the cups rattling loudly at the disturbance. 

“I don’t want you to be chained to someone like me.” He admitted, eyes averted. 

“You don’t have to feel that way, I’m choosing you.” 

“Promise?” His eyes finally met yours and you nodded curtly, a look of determination and confidence plastered to your face. 

“Promise.” You assured him, sitting back down at the table to show that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“And if you bother me too much then I’ll leave.” You teased, but he seemed to take it literally, sinking back into his own seat and nodding in understanding. 

“That’s good.” He sighed, shoulders sagging in relief. 

“I really should go home, think about this and we’ll talk tomorrow.” You stood, leaning over the table to peck a kiss to his lips. He nodded and watched with tired eyes as you left his apartment. 

[thestylesindependent]

Harry Styles is definitely in love — and other takeaways from his bop-heavy new album

BY CHRISTI CARRASSTAFF WRITER 

MAY 16, 2022 4:06 PM PT

Would you believe it? After a three-year drought, Harry Styles’ third solo record, “Harry’s House,” is almost here, just in time for summer.

The highly anticipated follow-up to the pop musician’s Grammy-nominated sophomore album, “Fine Line,” is set to arrive Thursday at 9 p.m. Pacific. And to all the fans who simply cannot wait three days and five hours (but who’s counting?) to inject more Styles content directly into their veins — we see you, and we’ve got you.

After listening to the singer’s latest studio album early and on repeat (for science), we can confirm that “Harry’s House” is chock-full of summertime bops, jubilant horn sections and lyrical nods to L.A. — as well as what appears to be a sonic love letter to “Don’t Worry Darling” director Olivia Wilde, whom Styles is rumored to be dating.

Last month, the former One Direction heartthrob told Better Homes & Gardens he was initially hesitant to make “fun music” on his own because he wanted to be “taken seriously” as a solo artist. Three solo albums in, that pressure has dissipated — as evidenced by “Harry’s House,” which is nothing if not unapologetically fun.

“Finally, it doesn’t feel like my life is over if this album isn’t a commercial success,” Styles told the magazine.

“I just want to make stuff that is right, that is fun, in terms of the process, that I can be proud of for a long time, that my friends can be proud of, that my family can be proud of, that my kids will be proud of one day.”

For good reason, this writer is not a Harry Styles critic, so be sure to look out for the The Times’ official review of “Harry’s House” closer to the album’s release. Until then, here are some key takeaways to get you through the week.

Harry is in love

And he doesn’t care who knows it. By our calculations, at least eight of the 13 songs on “Harry’s House” are about being madly enamored with someone else.

In the exuberant opening track, “Music for a Sushi Restaurant,” Styles literally shouts into the void, “It’s cause I love you, babe / In every kind of way / Just a little taste / You know I love you, baby,” setting a romantic tone for the rest of the album.

Other especially smitten lyrics sprinkled throughout include, “Now you’re in my life / I can’t get you off my mind,” “There’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me,” “'Cause baby, loving you’s the real thing” and “I will always love you.”

Since exiting his boy-band era, Styles has reclaimed some of his privacy by keeping relatively quiet about his personal life, so it’s unclear exactly what muse (or muses) inspired this lovestruck turn. But it’s easy to read “Cinema” as a valentine to Wilde, the filmmaker and actor who has been romantically linked to Styles since directing him in her upcoming feature, “Don’t Worry Darling.”

“I just think you’re cool / I dig your cinema,” Styles sings on the album’s eighth track. “Do you think I’m cool too? / Or am I too into you?”

Alluding to their power-couple status as fixtures of both the music and film industries, Styles continues, “I bring the pop / You got ... the cinema / I bring the pop to the cinema.” Oh, to be the cinema to Styles’ pop.

He’s in an L.A. mood

Speaking of cinema, “Harry’s House” also contains several allusions to L.A. and L.A. culture — from edibles and yoga to ocean views and Hollywood.

In the song “Satellite,” Styles actually declares he’s “in an L.A. mood.” Plus, there’s a whole track about driving, which is about as L.A. as it gets.

Aptly, he’s at home

With himself, that is. Despite the domestic title, much of “Harry’s House” — recorded in L.A., Tokyo, Maine, Oxfordshire and London — reflects a sort of nomadic existence.

“I’d follow you to any place,” Styles sings on “Late Night Talking,” followed by tales of riding bikes, driving with “passports in foot wells” and booking rooms at hotels “using someone else’s name.”

In his Better Homes & Gardens profile, Styles explained that he no longer thinks of a home in terms of physical space, so much as a “headspace or mental well-being.”

“I realized that that home feeling isn’t something that you get from a house; it’s more of an internal thing,” he said. “You realize that when you stop for a minute.”

He remembers the one(s) who got away

Not all of the love songs on “Harry’s House” have buoyant hooks and happy endings. And really, would it even be a Harry Styles album without a couple of sad-boy ballads mourning relationships that, for whatever reason, didn’t quite work out?

In “Little Freak,” for instance, Styles is “just thinking about” someone he “disrespected” and lost after he “jumped in feet first and ... landed too hard.”

“You never saw my birthmark,” he laments on the wistful track.

The 13th and final song on the record, “Love Of My Life,” is addressed to a soulmate the singer had no choice but to abandon, citing incompatible “coordinates.”

“Baby, you were the love of my life,” Styles sings. “Maybe you don’t know it’s lost ’til you find it / It’s not what I wanted / To leave you behind.”

While speaking with Better Homes & Gardens, Styles opened up about his flawed relationship history, conceding that, “Whether it was with friends or people I was dating, I was always gone before it got to the point of having to have any difficult conversations.”

Styles is truly flying solo

Like his last two studio efforts, “Harry’s House” features only Styles — meaning no guest artists are listed on the track list.

However, a full breakdown of song credits does reveal a couple of notable cameos. The adorable intro to the album’s lead single, “As It Was,” is a repurposed voice memo from Styles’ young goddaughter Ruby Winston. (She is the child of Meredith Winston and Ben Winston, who was a producer on the 2013 documentary “One Direction: This Is Us.”)

Additionally, John Mayer is credited as an electric guitarist on two songs: “Cinema” and “Daydreaming,” which also uses a sample from the 1978 Brothers Johnson tune “Ain’t We Funkin’ Now.” The more you know.

[duelingdestiny]

Welcome to DuelingDestiny

Hello everyone and thank you for checking out my blog! Below is Atem’s about. Malice’s about and the rules will be linked.  About Atem: 

After losing to Yugi in the ceremonial duel, Atem found himself in the monotony of exactly the things he detested most: Being Pharaoh. One day, Atem is bothered by the sounds of someone pleading for their lives followed by a blood curdling scream. It is then he decides then he needs to return to the living world in order to aid whoever it is. He is fairly certain this is something that is going to happen in the future and not something that has already happened. He decides that he will do whatever it takes to aid the person who has called out to him, no matter the cost.  But what a cost it is... While is he granted the chance to return, it is not without difficulty, and it will come with a price. Anubis warns him of this before he starts The Trials: Three brutalizing tests to measure if Atem is strong enough to return to the Land of the Living. He passes, only just barely escaping with his soul, and is allowed to return. But the way is not for the faint of heart. Washed up on the docks shivering and alone, Atem finally finds himself in domino again. As part of the deal with Anubis, the God of the underworld tell Atem he will set him up with everything he needs, including identification. Anubis cryptically tell Atem it’s the least he could do for what Atem has done for him.  Atem now lives in a ostentatious flat and is trying his best to live his new life, but…he hasn’t tried to find anyone. He’s too afraid.

He has no idea who he heard cry out in the night, but he knows he needs to find out and help them…before it’s too late. The price of leaving the Afterlife was nothing he expected. Anubis gave an ominous warning about unending darkness, but Atem was not prepared for what that meant. Now, living with Malice, a spirit he is all too familiar with, Atem is avoiding people at all costs. He wants to keep his friends safe, and if that means hiding from them, so be it.

RULES

ABOUT MALICE

RP WISH LIST

So, I’ve noticed that I don’t have enough people to rp with. I wanted to just toss out there some characters I would love to have Atem interact with. I saw these going around awhile back and I thought it was a great way to get info out to the fandom.

ANYONE IS FINE. I LOVE RPING WITH ANYONE!!!

This is just some characters that I know will have good plot and character development with Atem:

Malik

Yami Malik

Yami Bakura/ Thief King

literally any Kaiba ever.

Jou/ Joey

Mahad

Priest Set

Other Atems

ALL THE MAGICANS

I would love to get some of these characters interacting with Atem so if you’d like to rp one of these with me give this a like. Multi-muses are ALWAYS more than welcome and even if we have a thead, if you rp a different muse I don’t mind starting a new thread! Also I am crossover friendly as long as your character is animated. I am also OC friendly as long as your OC has a back round I can read, and they fit will with Atem’s storyline.

SHIPPING INFO

I love to ship people with Atem. My main rule is I will only ship with you if Atem and your character has chemistry. I don’t do pre-established relationships because I believe half the fun is getting there lol. That being said, there are definitely ships me and him gravitate towards more than others. I thought I would list them for everyone so they knew what chance they have with my loser boy. I will NEVER EVER force a ship on you. If you feel like I am red light my ass. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable. On the other had, dude if you want to talk about shipping I am there for it all day every day. 

Here are the ships me and Atem tend to lean towards:

Prideshipping (Atem x Kaiba)

Darkshipping (Atem x Yami Bakura)

Casteshipping (Atem x Thief King)

Mnemoshipping (Atem x Malik)

Clashshipping (Atem x Yami Malik)

ANY SHIP WITH MAGICIANS.

Dragonshipping: (Atem x Jou)

Even if your character is not on this list as long as they’ve got chemistry I will ship with you in a heart beat. I will give any ship a try and some of the best ships I ever had I would have never thought about. *coughs* fateshipping *cough*. Also I’m down for crossover ships and duplicate ships. 

[shes-a-gryffindor]

Hypothetically

Just a feel good one-shot, with a bit of Jily fluff and lots of Marauder banter.

As the air grew steadily warmer and the stress of exams seemed to melt away, the end of their schooling loomed ever nearer; until, as if all at once, the weeks had come and gone and they were sat in The Three Broomsticks, having a final drink as students of Hogwarts.

From a table in the middle of the crowded haze of the pub, Sirius Black’s voice could be heard over the raucous laughter of his friends… “No really, hear me out,“ he said, “she’s the type you can tell used to be sort of fit in her day.”

Lily choked on her drink mid-sip, Remus shook his head in amused exasperation and Peter was doubled over the table in a fit of giggles.

“I suppose McGonagall does fit the bill,” said James through his own laughter.

“Ah Prongs, a man after my own heart!” Exclaimed Sirius, clapping James’s back, “see... he gets it,” he added, looking smugly at the rest of them before taking a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, I get it,” said James, nodding earnestly, “Pads doesn’t mind ‘em stern and a little scary, do you Pads?” Then looking pointedly at the other three added, “ mummy issues,” causing Peter, who’d only just recovered from his last bout of giggles, to dribble a mouthful of Butterbeer down his chin, sending them all into a fresh fit of laughter.

“Gits,” said Sirius, scowling half-heartedly at them before laughing in spite of himself and downing the last of his beer; setting his empty glass back down with a thud, Sirius smacked his lips. “Right,” he said, “anyone up for a stretch of the legs?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” said Lily, downing the last of her drink as well, “… looks like Slughorn’s requested another song from the band and I don’t fancy another round of karaoke, d’you?”

“Absolutely not,” agreed Remus, so with the scraping of chairs against stone and the clattering of sickles and knuts being left on the table, they weaved their way through the crowd of tables and out into the village of Hogsmeade.

Filing out one after another onto the cobbled street, they began walking aimlessly along the path towards the far end of the village. It was a gloriously warm day, the sky was scattered with only faint wisps of cloud and the sun beamed happily down onto the thatched cottages and bustling shops, picturesque as ever.

Sirius and Peter made a game of trying to step on the each other’s heels, dancing around one another and occasionally running ahead, Remus strolled casually behind them, hands in his pockets and Lily and James trailed along last, James with an arm hanging loosely around Lily’s shoulders, talking and laughing as they went.

“I’m going to miss it here you know,” mused Lily, as they passed by a group of younger students excitedly rummaging through their shopping.

“You won’t get a chance to miss it too much, we’ll still come here all the time,” James responded, smiling down at her.”

“Oh will we ?”

“Well, you didn’t think we’d be spending all our time at the Cokeworth pub, did you?” He teased.

“Hey!” Laughed Lily, elbowing him playfully, “Cokeworth has… it’s charm,” she said, sounding rather like she didn’t much believe it herself.

“The only charm Cokeworth has, is you love,” he responded.

“James,” she groaned through more laughter, “you got me, I’m dating you, please enough with the awful pickup lines.”

“Never.” He said, grinning that lone-dimpled grin she loved, before pulling her closer to swiftly kiss her through her smile.

“Keep up lovebirds!” Sirius yelled out to them.

The bustle of the village was now behind them and a wide, beaten grass track replaced the cobbled stone of the street. The cottages that lined either side of the track were becoming fewer and farther between and they seemed to be walking steadily downhill.

“Where are we actually going?” Asked Lily.

“We’re going, Evans, to a rather special little spot,” Sirius told her, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Special?” She said questioningly; James’s lips were now also tugging at the corners.

“Here we go,” sighed Remus.

“Well, if you must know,” Sirius began, “I happened upon this particular spot whilst looking for a bit of… privacy,” an insolent grin now spread across his face, “brought many a sexual conquest here in our day, eh Prongs?” He finished, winking at Lily.

“Right… so just each-other then,” she responded before James could interject.

Sirius pushed her playfully into James, his bark-like laughter drowning out the others.

They continued much in the same fashion until finally, they reached a low, cobbled wall lined with coarse, unkempt grass; walking along it until they came to a very old, very splintered stile. Sirius stepped over the first few rungs before leaping over to the other side and the others followed suit.

It was easy to see why privacy had been the main selling point of this particular spot; the wall was alarmingly eroded, with chunks of stone jutting out it looked on the verge of collapse. The thick, thorny brambles that flanked either side of them created somewhat of an alley, opening up to a desolate clearing that stretched out of their line of sight, eventually turning up into hilly mountains.

“Charming,” said Lily, her cheery tone dripping with sarcasm.

Sirius, obviously unaffected by her assessment, simply winked at her. “Make yourselves at home,” he said before slumping down onto the grass to lean against the decrepit wall.

Peter sat on the lowest rung of the stile while the others slumped down next to him, joining Sirius on the grass. Lily sat with her legs crossed over James’s and Remus on her other side sat next to Sirius, who was wrestling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“Should we be worried? You’re not planning on snogging us all are you?” Asked Remus with mock concern.

“This,” Sirius began, flipping open the packet, “is why we’re here,” and he pulled out what looked like a cigarette with its top twisted off.

“Where’d you get that!?” Asked Peter.

“You know I have a certain talent for sniffing these things out Wormy,” he responded.

Peter and James chortled, “Wow,” said Lily, “that is some James tier humour, Black,” making Remus laugh now too. James looked at her with feigned offence.

“Put it away before it’s confiscated Padfoot,” he told Sirius, smirking and nodding in Lily’s direction.

“Pfft” scoffed Lily, and with a mischievous grin, snatched the joint from between Sirius’s fingers.

“Lighter, Black,” she demanded, holding out her hand.

Sirius obliged, tossing it to her.

Pressing the joint between her lips before lighting it, she took an exaggeratedly long drag. All four boys stared at her incredulously. Removing it from her lips, she held her breath momentarily, winking at Sirius before turning to blow the smoke at James.

Sirius whooped and snatched the joint back from her, before taking a drag himself.

James was still staring, a little dumbstruck, at Lily, “Merlin you’re sexy,” he told her.

“Oh please don’t ruin smoking for me” groaned Sirius, handing the joint to Remus.

“You’ve already ruined it for me,” mumbled Remus with the joint now between his lips, “for all I know you’ve shagged some poor bird in this exact spot,” he said, gesturing to the patch of grass on which he was sitting.

“Nah, not there,” responded Sirius in earnest, waving a hand dismissively, “I have there though,” he added, gesturing with his thumb to where Peter was sitting.

“Ergh!” Peter jumped away from where he was sitting to slump against the wall next to a laughing James.

“Don’t be such a prude Wormy,” said Sirius, grinning lazily.

“Can we talk about anything else,” said Lily, trying to stifle her own laughter.

“Please,” agreed Remus.

“All right then… I’ve got a hypothetical question,” said James, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth, “say, hypothetically, there’s no war… you have your pick of anything after Hogwarts, and, hypothetically, Auror is off the table… what are you doing?”

There was a moment of silence before Lily asked, “is this hypothetical?” The boys hooted with laughter. The effects of the smoke having kicked in, everything was much funnier in their bleary state.

“Go on then,” chuckled James, taking another drag and passing the joint to Peter.

There was another moment of silence as they all considered it; then, with a stony look on his face Remus spoke first, “pretty sure... war or not, I’d have about as many options as I do now,” he said despondently, absentmindedly ripping clumps of grass from the ground.

Sirius and James exchanged a grimace, Lily however, smiled ruefully at Remus; squeezing his hand in her own, she rested her head on his shoulder, “come on Moony… hypothetically,” she said, pouting comically up at him in her best impression of James. James thought his heart might explode with love for her.

Remus smiled stoically back down at her, “well…” he sighed, allowing himself a moment of self-indulgence, more to appease the group than anything else “… I suppose I’ve always found my dad’s job interesting, Boggarts at least are fascinating…perhaps something like that.”

“You’re braver than I am Moony,” said Sirius, clapping him on the back, “couldn’t pay me enough to go looking for one of them fucking things,” he added with an exaggerated shudder.

“Can’t face a Boggart, but you’ll go running ‘round with a Werewolf once a month,” he responded sarcastically.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “you fold your underwear and you won’t eat a meal without tucking a little napkin into your collar…yeah Moony, you’re a real monster,” he jeered, before continuing, “I reckon I’d fancy something like The Three Broomsticks, like old Rosmerta… y’know a pub, open my own...”

“I can see that,” said Lily, picturing in her mind’s eye a too-charismatic-for-his-own-good Sirius getting into all sorts of trouble in his own pub, “you’d be a right menace to society behind a bar though, with all that free alcohol,” she added.

“As opposed to the perfect angel he usually is,” sniggered James.

“Fair point,” she agreed, laughing.

Sirius appeared to still be musing over the idea, staring hazily into the distance he mumbled, “could call it Hair of The Dog or something…”

They roared with laughter, “that’s actually not bad,” spluttered James between coughs.

“And you Prongs? What are your hypothetical post-Hogwarts aspirations,” Remus asked.

“I’ll venture a wild guess… something quidditch related?” Said Lily, grinning at him.

“Reckon I’d be a shoo-in for the Cannons,” he answered, grinning cockily, “… or England for the cup,” he added.

“At least he’s modest,” said Lily, ruffling his hair the way he usually did himself.

“All right Head Girl, Slug Club protégée, potions extraordinaire… what’s life after Hogwarts look like for you then?” He teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

She weaved a hand through his at her shoulder and thought for a moment before answering, “a Healer perhaps, or a Mediwitch… think I’d be good at that,” she said conclusively.

“Very fitting” said James, smiling down at her, “although to be fair, you’d be good at anything you decided on,” he added.

Lily smiled warmly back at him before turning to Peter, who hadn’t yet given his answer. “What about you, Wormy?” She asked brightly.

Staring distractedly off into the distance, his eyes glassy and unfocused, Peter appeared to be deep in thought, “… We’re never coming back to school,” he said slowly, as if only just comprehending this fact.

They burst out laughing, jolting Peter back to the present, “caught on, have you?” said James, coherently as he could through his own hysteric laughter. Sirius was now howling, sprawled across the grass on his side, clutching his stomach.

When they’d finally managed to compose themselves, Peter was still looking ahead, his brow slightly furrowed, “I genuinely have no idea what I’d be doing…” he said quietly, more to himself than in response to the question, his eyes darting side to side as if he was beginning to panic a little.

“I think we’ve broken Wormtail,” laughed James.

“Blimey mate,” said Sirius, laughter edging back into his now voice too, “just as well a bunch of lunatics are trying to kill everyone then, or you’d have ended up polishing Prongs’s broom or something.”

Peter laughed half-heartedly along with them.

“Don’t listen to him Wormy,” said Lily, “he’s just jealous he doesn’t actually get to polish James’s broom …” she finished, using two fingers of each hand to draw imaginary quotation marks around the word 'broom', sending them into another bout of laughter.

They continued like this for a while, making jokes at each other’s expense and laughing much too hard at things they ordinarily wouldn’t find nearly as funny; the minutes ticking on until there was no reprieve from the very bright sun that had sunken a little lower in the sky, blaring down on them.

Groaning and grumbling about how hungry they were, they began the trek back to the castle. Lily and James trailing behind again, hand in hand.

“Many a sexual conquest, eh?” Said Lily, grinning lazily.

“I’d hardly call them conquests… Sirius was just winding you up,” responded James, pinching her nose playfully.

“hmm... Personally I’ve always found the spot near the shrieking shack to be much better,” she said, “much more privacy.”

James laughed, pulling her closer again, “is that where all that howling's coming from? Merlin Lily, what have I been doing wrong?”

“Not funny!” Remus yelled over his shoulder.

Lily threw her head back in laughter and let go of James’s hand, skipping ahead to link arms with Remus, “oh, come on Moony!” She said playfully.

Watching her for a moment, stumble and laugh, arm in arm with his friends... James thought he very much knew exactly what he’d like to do after school. With or without a war.

[bwbatta]

four - believable

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: this is super fluffy beware

Word count: 3944

A/N: well, I’m back and BOY do I have a good one for you! Christmasy vibes are at 100% as I’m struggling to believe Christmas has actually been and gone, hopefully this will fulfil your Christmas Draco cravings! 

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 3

If you thought people gossiped too much about the rumour of Draco and you being in a relationship before it was even confirmed, the gossip that was instigated from your kiss in the middle of the Great Hall was on another level.

No one said it to your face but everyone thought the chemistry between the two of you surely couldn’t have been faked.

Little did they know though, right?!

Whispers died down after a couple weeks of seeing the two of you walk around holding hands or with Draco’s arm over your shoulder pulling you close in his grip.

In fact the two of you touching in some way became such a constant that it almost felt odd when his hand wasn’t resting on your leg while you were together.

The one thing that wasn’t so weird to come from the game you two had going on, was how Pansy had dialled down her desperate attempts to seduce the blonde Malfoy heir.

Sure she still tried when you weren’t around, but it was a lot less than before and all her attempts were rebuffed and ignored by Draco.

After about a month, her attempts had dwindled and come to a halt.

Not that the two of you noticed that much.

You both had to admit, you enjoyed how things were with each other right now, not that you’d tell the other.

“Hey Sweetheart”

Broken out of your thoughts you looked up to see the familiar blonde approaching you with a grin on his face.

The two of you saw each other earlier that day for breakfast and then later for Potions, but since you both chose different courses, you didn’t have the time to cross paths again until later that evening.

You had been flicking through an astronomy textbook, attempting to finally finish your essay in the Library. Christmas was fast approaching which meant so were final deadlines for the term. Mostly you were fine with the workload you had, thanks to a specific muggleborn Gryffindor who had kept you on track, yet astronomy was kicking your arse.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t tell your constellations apart from your galaxies.

“Hi” you sighed in reply causing the boy to frown

“That doesn’t sound very happy”

“That’s because this Astronomy essay is making me want to knock myself out with a telescope” you rested your head on your arms dejectedly. “It would be less painful.”

Draco didn’t stop the snort escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes at your dramatics and grabbed your excuse of an essay. With a snicker he shot you an amused look at the last line you’d written on the parchment, aka when you’d really given up all hope.

“’The Sirius constellation looks like a dog but you can’t really tell which breed’?! You’re honestly going to give this in?!” he laughed 

“You can’t tell though!”

“Well first, Sirius is a star not a constellation and second the constellation it’s in is obviously a terrier.”

“How helpful” 

His grey eyes shot you an amused look before gathering up your books and papers and put them away in your bag. Grabbing your hand he pulled you up and out of the Library which you groaned at, complaining you needed to finish your essay.

“I know” he just responded, pulling you close to him by your hands before detaching them and dropping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the process as he saw a gaggle of Ravenclaws pass you on their way to the Library. “Let’s grab some dinner and then I’ll help you with your essay.”

The kitchens weren’t as busy as usual as dinner was already happening, but still busy enough to have three house elves approach the two of you asking what they could get you.

“Two plates of roast beef, one with extra roast potatoes, the other with extra yorkshire puddings.”

Immediately your stomach growled at the thought of the food to your embarrassment. You really hadn’t realised how hungry you’d gotten.

Almost in no time at all, two steaming hot plates of food were given to you and the two of you made your way to the astronomy tower, taking a seat on the floor so you could take in the view of the setting sun.

“Why are we here? I thought we’d go back to the Library or common room to finish the essay?”

“How else am I gonna teach you the constellations if you can’t see them?!”

You were taken aback a little.

“You’re teaching me by pointing them out? How do you know astronomy?”

“The entirety of my family are named after stars and constellations on my mother’s side. It was something I just knew growing up because she taught me from when I was young.”

“So there’s a star called Draco?”

“A constellation actually” he mused, “it’s suppose to look like a dragon.”

“Suppose to?”

“Looks more like a snake if I’m honest”

The subject changed over dinner to other things you’d each thought of or heard throughout the day, when you hadn’t seen each other. Apparently the head boy and head girl had been caught by McGonagall in a broom closet getting frisky.

There had also been a fight which had broken out in the Herbology greenhouses which resulted in a mandrake pot being shattered and everyone fainting because of the screams from the young plant.

The real highlight of the day however, was the rumour of the Ancient Runes professor showing an interest in one of the sixth year Hufflepuffs.

“Contrary to popular belief, those Hufflepuffs aren’t as innocent as everyone might be led to believe” Draco snickered as you slapped his arm jokingly.

“I can’t believe a professor here would do that thought!”

“We’ve had worse teachers, lets be honest” he laughed. “Lets recall our last five years shall we?!”

“First one was killed by Harry after having You-Know-Who on the back of his head, the second was a complete moron and obliviated himself- one was a werewolf! Then lets not forget the disguised death eater and then finally this year we’ve been delighted to have the pink toad as a teacher.” 

“I feel like we’ve really lucked out if I’m honest” Draco snorted as you snickered at the humoured sarcasm you shared.

A cold breeze shifted through the open tower when the sun finally set, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Deciding to only wear a thin jumper, forgoing your robes whilst you studied earlier may not have been the smartest idea once the two of you decided to eat at that destination.

Draco noticed and immediately leaned back against the wall, holding his arms out to you.

“Come here”

With a shuffle, you were under his arm, pressed against him as you settled into his side, his body heat being a welcoming factor.

“Merlin, you’re freezing” he frowned pulling you closer before conjuring up an emerald green blanket.

“Winter doesn’t really agree with me,” you joked “now tell me about these bloody constellations.”

“Well you’ve got the northern constellations and the southern ones. The northern include some such as Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Lyra and Pegasus. The southern have ones like Ara, Orion, and Canis’ Major and Minor.”

“Which one is Draco in?”

“Northern” he grinned down at you as you reciprocated his smile. “You then also have the zodiac constellations which are the 12 most commonly known ones.”

“Like Sagittarius, Aquarius and all that?”

“Yep. Within all those constellations, you’ve then got your stars.” 

The blonde boy explained the basics of the stars to you almost effortlessly as your gaze flicked back and forth from him to the sky, when he pointed out which section he was talking about.

He talked non stop about the stars and you couldn’t help but admire the Slytherin as he spoke of the subject. Draco wasn’t arrogantly top of the class like Hermione was, but he was in no way lacking in knowledge when it came to subjects he knew about like it was second nature.

Time passed you both by like the cool breeze that surrounded you, and before you knew it, hours had passed just being in each others company as he easily gave you enough clarity to finish off your essay, without even having to resort to drastic measures.

You also learnt so much more than any astronomy professor had taught you in all your years at Hogwarts.

Maybe that was just because they weren’t as captivating as the blonde beside you.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you knew exactly what your favourite constellation was after that evening, and it just so happened to look like a dragon.

Christmas drew closer and Draco was adamant on sticking to his side of the deal, so with a sigh he set off to Hogsmeade in search of the extensive list of Christmas gifts he had promised to get you. 

He had to appear like the perfect boyfriend after all.

Something was nagging at him though and it was constantly circling his mind as he trudged down in the frost to the village. 

It had been that evening when the two of you were in the astronomy tower and he was teaching you about the stars, when it had happened.

In the midst of his talking, he pointed out the Orion constellation before glancing down at you and pausing a second to catch his breath, not because he was chatting too much, but because in the vivid light of the moon, you were ethereal. 

He had whole heartedly planned to carry on talking, but the sight of you, curled up against him, with the moonlight highlighting your features, his breath was stolen from him. 

Almost in a trance he brushed the back of his fingers against your cheekbone causing you to snap your gaze to him, eyes wide at the delicate gesture.

Your wide eyes shocked him out of his state and immediately he paused awkwardly, racking his brain for some kind of excuse.

“Um... eyelash” he murmured, grey eyes not breaking from your own.

“...thanks.”

His mind was screaming at him to just carry on talking, yet no words came out of his mouth. 

Instead, almost like his body had a mind of it’s own, his fingers continued to move to brush away the lock of hair which had fallen out of it’s place.

Finally gaining control of his actions again, he dropped his hand and pulled you closer to him, effectively breaking your line of sight. Draco began to talk about Orion again but his mind wasn’t 100% paying attention to the facts that came out his mouth.

What the hell was that?

Shaking those questions from his head, he pressed his lips to your temple and continued his rambling about stars.

It had been quick, fleeting, but Draco hadn’t missed it and he really hoped you had. The affection which was suppose to be scripted for everyone else’s belief had reared it’s head like it was second nature to the pair. 

You hadn’t said anything or brought it up so Draco definitely wasn’t going to. 

He agreed with himself it was probably best left unspoken about. It was a slip up, something which felt right to do at the time but it wouldn’t happen again.

Attempting to convince himself, he muttered about how you probably didn’t even notice. It was nothing. 

After all, whatever was happening affectionately between the two of you wasn’t real.

In short, you’d noticed. 

Draco showing you affection was nothing new, yet Draco showing it when no one else was around, okay, that was new.

The kiss he left on your temple could of course be in a friendly manner, right? The brush against your cheek? The way he looked at you?

Friends are affectionate to each other, it was probably nothing more than a friendly endearment. Like a hug.

So why did it feel like there was so much more unsaid?

With a groan of annoyance, you shut it from your mind. There was no use in overthinking something as small as a simple affection. You were smarter than that. 

The truth was, the two of you were so hellbent on making everyone around you believe you were in a relationship, you failed to noticed how neither of you denied how believable it was to each other.

Your stomach grumbled loudly, catching the attention of the witch opposite you who eyed you with annoyance.

“Are you just going to sit there, starve yourself and annoy me, or are you going to get some food and leave so I can work in peace?”

“Merlin, Hermione, it’s almost like you don’t want me around.”

“I don’t when you’re distracting me”

“Charming as ever, I see”

With a huff, the bookworm turned her attention back to her books.

Completely bored with your homework, you fidgeted with your quill between your fingers.

“Hey, Hermione? Are you going home for Christmas?”

“You couldn’t ask me this later?” she sighed as she paused in her writing and shot you an irritated look. At the shake of your head, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, My family and I are planning on going skiing again. Are you heading back?”

“Not this year, my parents are off visiting my cousins in America so I said I’d stay at Hogwarts.”

“You’re staying here for Christmas?”

A new voice entered your conversation from behind you and at the look of Hermione’s scowl, you knew immediately it was your blonde boyfriend.

Turning in your seat, you greeted him with a smile. Pecking a kiss to your lips, more for Hermione’s purpose than your own, he took the seat next to you, placing his own stack of books on the table next to you.

“Yeah, like I said, parents are going to America, it’s just easier if I stay.”

“Not many others are planning on staying though, not even the Weasleys” Draco frowned.

You shrugged at his insinuation, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“I’ll be fine, might actually get some peace and quiet to be honest.”

He didn’t look convinced. 

“I’ll write to my parents and tell them I’m staying for Christmas”

“Draco-”

“Nope, I’m not going to let you spend Christmas alone,” he was adamant, “Can I borrow a piece of parchment, I’ll write to them now.”

“Go ahead, I’m not using it” you replied which earned you an exasperated look from the Gryffindor opposite you, which you ignored.

Hermione took the time to observe the two of you and how effortlessly you interacted around each other. It was like a cleverly choreographed piece.

You looked down at your work, Draco looked up at you. Draco looked down at the letter he was now writing, you looked up at Draco. You rested your hand on his arm when you were talking, he leans into your touch.

The Granger witch couldn’t help but almost admire the chemistry between the two of you and how easy it seemed it was to be with the other. Sure, she had doubts at the very start when you’d just begun dating, yet getting a front row seat to seeing the two of you bounce off each other, Hermione Granger believed wholeheartedly the two of you loved each other. 

Even if you didn’t know it yourselves yet.

Draco had followed through with his promise and as it seemed every other student had journeyed down to the train a couple days ago. The two of you were sat happily in the Astronomy tower, basking in the silence of the castle and embracing how relaxing it was. 

Since the first time the two of you had sat around the tower before, it seemed like this was the place you both chose to come every time when it was just the two of you. 

Neither of you had brought up the small affection from the previous time, but acting like it didn’t happen seemed like it was working for the two of you.

“What’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever gotten?” Draco asked you after a few moments of silence.

You had to think for a moment before a grin rapidly grew across your face at the exact present you knew you loved. 

“Snitch socks,” you chuckled “I was given a pair by my grandma when I was like 10 or something and they were the fluffiest, comfiest pair of socks I ever owned where there was a little charm with made the snitches fly around the design. They must’ve cost a knut or something as they fell apart after I only wore them for a few days! Young me was so heartbroken about her socks, she cried for three days!”

“You cried over socks?!”

“The best socks! I don’t think I’ve even known real joy since”

Draco snorted out a laugh into your hair as he wrapped an arm round your shoulders.

“That’s so stupid”

“Don’t be such a jerk, I was 10” you scowled at him playfully “besides, my grandma passed away a couple years later and I have no idea where she got them, so I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Would you still wear them now if you got another pair?”

“Oh 100%, but either way, like I said, I’ve made my peace with it.” You shrugged nonchalantly before turning to the boy next to you, “go on then, what’s been your favourite Christmas present ever?!”

“A pocket watch” he grinned reaching into his pocket and pulling one out, passing it over to you to look at. “It’s a Black family heirloom - my Mother’s side of the family, and it’s suppose to keep you on time for everything. It used to belong to one of my great uncles or someone but I’ve never been late to anything when I have this on me.”

“Really?” you asked sceptically 

“Really”

“What about that time you were late to potions?!”

“Left it in my dorm accidentally. Actually that whole day was kind of a disaster. Bloody Pansy and her love potion.”

You snorted as you admired the watch and flipped it over in your palm to examine the back. Cursive words were engraved in the back in another language- probably latin, which had something to do with keeping the owner on time, all the time.  

It was silver and about the size of a large golf ball in diameter, yet surprisingly light as you played with it between your fingers. 

“It’s pretty”

Draco hummed in agreement as he watched you trace the intricate details with your fingers before smiling and handing it back to him. With a fond look at the watch, then you, he slipped it back into his pocket.

“I just pray I don’t lose it, wouldn’t hear the end of it from my Mother”

“For good reason probably” you snorted, “if it’s a family heirloom it probably means a lot to her.”

Draco hummed once again and pinned his warm gaze on you. He wouldn’t say it out loud but he rarely let the things that meant a lot to him out of his sight.

“God rest ye merry hippogriffs-”

“I’m begging you to stop”

“-ye are A BIRD OF PREY!”

“Y/N-”

“We come in all our splendour, to lead ye ast--”

A hand covered your mouth as you laughed heavily at Draco’s attempt to quieten your singing. You had purposefully tried to make it the worst edition of the Christmas carol possible to annoy the blonde that Christmas morning, yet you hadn’t planned on being tackled into the Slytherin sofa as an attempt to be shut up.

“Did you just lick my hand?!”

You shook your head innocently, not fooling Draco for a second. 

The two of you had gathered in the Slytherin common room, as most of the house had gone back for the holiday.

Only a couple of students remained, but after the wizard had glared at the couple of second years, they scattered somewhere else for the time being.

“Okay, presents!”

You almost dived under the tree as you caught sight of a carefully wrapped gift with your name on it. However, finding the label attached to a rather large bundle of Honeydukes chocolates, the smile you shot Draco was almost blinding.

“You did get me the chocolates!!”

“I promised, didn’t it?!”

Draco watched you with a fond grin as you rifled through the basket picking out a couple of chocolate frogs and chucked one to him. He caught the small packet quickly, thanking his seeker reflexes as he did, and looked at you questioningly.

“What, you didn’t think I’d be able to get through all these myself?! Plus I know chocolate frogs are your favourite.”

Draco felt his smile grow wider.

“I got something for you too” you matched his smile

“You did?”

“Of course!”

Pulling out a long rectangular box from under the tree, he kneeled down next to you as he pushed it along the floor so it wasn’t obstructed by anything.With a wary look towards you, he paused slightly.

“It’s not anything that will bite, right?”

“Oh shut up, of course not, now open it!”

With a roll of his eyes, the Malfoy ripped off the wrapping paper and pried open the cardboard box to see the broom he had been envying Harry Potter over for the last year.

“You got me a Firebolt?!”

“Couldn’t have you whining about Harry’s broom any longer, could I?!”

“Merlin, Y/N! This is fantastic, thank you!” He grinned at you before his eyes snapped to the tree and back. “There’s some other things for you still under the tree.” 

It was your turn to pin him with a questioning look, eyebrows pulled together in a frown. 

Turning back to the tree, you pulled up a few branches and spotted another large box at the back. With great effort, to which the Malfoy just found great entertainment in, you managed to retrieve the box. Pulling open the top flap, the boots and jacket he had also promised you, sat inside.

With a laugh you pulled the boots out first and then the jacket, before spotting a smaller bundle at the bottom. Reaching in, your fingers came in contact with something soft which you pulled out, only to gasp at what it was.

A pair of fluffy green socks sat in your hand as golden snitches whizzed round the design. Not being able to find your words, you looked up at Draco with the softest look you were sure you’d ever looked at him with. 

“Draco... you got me snitch socks?!”

“I may have mentioned about the socks to my Mother and she just so happened to know where they were sold. I picked the green ones because I couldn’t have you wearing red ones now, could I?”

“Merlin, they’re perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Pretty much launching yourself at him, you pulled Draco into a warm hug, arms around his neck, as he instinctively wrapped his own arms around your waist in return. 

“You are the best boyfriend ever, oh Merlin!”

“If I knew it was this easy to please you, I would’ve bought you them ages ago” he snickered.

You pulled away, only to move to put the socks on as you chatted non stop about how great they were, and in turn, how great he was. Seeing your entire face light up because of a pair of socks made Draco smile even more. 

Again, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but seeing that smile on your face, which he had 100% been responsible for, made his entire Christmas so much better.

[fanficimagery]

A Fangy Fetish

Imagine finally coming home to your family, only to realize there's something other about your little brother and his friends. But that's okay because you're not exactly the same as you were when you first left either. It's a surprising change, but one you're more than okay with after meeting Peter Hale.

Trigger Warnings: Brief conversation about death, an abusive relationship and a brief scene of spiking one's drink.  Author’s Note: Pls don’t ask about the title. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking XD

Passing up the welcome sign to Beacon Hills should fill you with glee since it's been forever that you've seen your mom and brother, but it merely makes you squirm in your seat since there was a good reason you had stayed away in the first place. And now- now you're meeting with them for the first time since you've changed and you're not sure how it should make you feel.

Your mom hasn't moved from your childhood home and as far as you knew your brother didn't have plans to move out until he had completed vet school, so it's not too hard to track them down. There's no vehicle in the driveway, but the opened curtains to the front windows showcase flickering lights from a TV being cast against the wall. Then cutting the engine, you tuck your hair behind your left ear and angle your ear towards the house to listen. After zoning out various noises, you can hear a TV show playing and your mother's familiar voice muttering obscenities when she sees something she doesn't agree with. There's no other voices or heartbeats so you figure your brother must be out.

Exhaling a nervous sigh, you pull down the visor and check your reflection in the small mirror being lit up by two small lights on either side of it. Then after making sure there's nothing on your face or at the corner of your eyes and mouth, you push the visor back up and then make your way out of the car. Walking up the steps to the front path and then the front path to the house porch, you nervously close the distance to the front door. You hesitate only a second before pressing the doorbell and then step back as you hear your mother pause her show and get up to see who it is.

The door opens and you can't help but smile when you see realization set in and Melissa McCall's eyes widen. "Y/N?"

"Hey, mom."

"Oh my god. Sweetheart!" She closes the distance between the two of you, arms wrapping tightly around you as you laugh and return her embrace. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"It was a split second decision," you tell her, letting her pull back and look you up and down to make sure you're really there. "Then I figured a surprise was in order."

She practically beams. "Come on. Come in," she says. "Oh I can't wait until Scott gets home. He's going to be so happy."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see Scotty either. It's been way too long."

Following your mom, you warily eye the doorway before stepping inside and the various scents of your childhood home make your chest ache with memories you had pushed to the back of your mind. Everything still smells familiar, even if there is a new underlying scent that makes you a little anxious and nose twitch.

"So what have you been up to?" She asks. The two of you settle in the living room and she's quick to turn off the TV in order to give you her full attention. "Catch me up."

"Well," you nervously chuckle, "there's not much to tell. School and work have kept me busy, and then there was this guy-"

"A boy?!" She gasps. "Tell me more."

"For a year," you tell her, your smile faltering. "I was with him for a year when I finally realized our relationship wasn't exactly healthy. The break was pretty amicable, but my trust in him was completely broken."

Melissa's mood immediately drops. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I'm okay now." Your mom looks so heartbroken all of a sudden that you can't help but scoot closer and pull her into a hug again. "Don't be sad," you chuckle. "It's part of growing up. If I didn't go through some stuff, I wouldn't be the person I am today. And let me tell you, I really like the person I am now."

Your mom sniffles. "Well if you're happy.."

"More than," you assure her. "I mean, I could probably use a little more fun between the sheets, but-"

"Y/N!" Melissa pulls back, shock etched into her features. "I am still your mother, young lady."

You burst out laughing, quickly leaning in to peck your mother's cheek. "I know, mom. Just wanted you to stop being sad. It worked."

A moment passes and her shoulders sag. She starts to laugh with you and you're so distracted by cheering her up that you don't hear the car parking outside or the steady heartbeat getting closer and closer. It's only when the front door opens that you freeze, your mom's smile widening.

"Hey, mom, whose car is out front?" Scott rounds the corner and you're surprised at how much your little brother has grown. He stares at you, eyes widening, before a very familiar and very missed crooked smile overtakes his features. "Y/N!"

You're laughing again as Scott practically rushes you, his arms tight around you in a welcoming embrace. He's warm, like really warm, and he has a very distinctive earthly smell. But that can't be right because as far as you knew the werewolf gene did not run in your family's DNA.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asks, squeezing you one last time before letting you go and then putting you at arm's length to look you up and down. He looks between you and your mom, smiling the entire time.

"Thought it was about time I came over for a visit." You shrug. "School is on break and my boss said I needed to cash in my vacation days or I'd lose them."

"I don't even know your boss, but I already love him. If he made you come home, he's okay in my books."

You chuckle, punching Scott lightly on the arm. You open your mouth to reply, but a frantic beeping reaches your ears. You and Scott look at your mom when she frowns, she then walking over towards the kitchen and picking up a beeper. She sighs and looks towards you and your brother, apologetically. "It's the hospital."

"Say no more," you tell her.

"Don't worry. Stiles will be stoked to see Y/N so we'll keep her busy for a while."

"Stiles?" You slowly smirk. "He still a little heathen?"

"Worse." Melissa snorts. "So much worse."

As Melissa gets ready for a shift that has been passed on to her, Scott convinces you to go surprise Stiles who's in town for the week. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time he's set eyes on you, but every now and then you see his expression falter as he stares curiously at you before shaking off whatever it is and going back to his happy self.

The three of you head outside, you and Scott promising Melissa to be home in time for some breakfast before watching her drive off. You and Scott then climb into your own car, and he happily directs you towards the outskirts of town to a seemingly abandoned building.

"What is this place?" You ask, turning off your car and then climbing out.

"An apartment building. Friend of a friend likes his privacy so he bought the building. The only occupied portion of it is the loft at the very top."

"Nice," you quietly muse as you follow after him. But very quickly you come to a certain realization and stumble to a halt. "So he owns the entire building? Privately?"

"Well yeah," Scott says. "Why?"

"Oh no reason." You try to play it off, nonchalant. "I just- I rather not barge in without meeting the guy. Walking in uninvited is bad manners."

Your brother huffs. "It's just Derek. He won't care."

"Yeah, but I will."

Digging your heels in on this, Scott sighs. "Seriously, Y/N. Derek won't mind. You can wait down here all you want, but Derek won't waste his time coming down here just to tell you to come in."

"Can't you call him?"

Seeing your pout, Scott rolls his eyes but the amused little smile doesn't go missed. "Sure. Fine." He pulls out his phone and quickly presses the contact he's looking for. Phone then put on speaker, you flash him a small smile in gratitude.

"What do you want, McCall?"

"So I have a friend down here with me and she's really adamant that she gets an invite from you before we head upstairs. She says it's bad manners to just walk on in."

The guy scoffs. "Whatever. Come in."

Well that should do it. Hopefully.

"Happy now?" Scott puts his phone away after the call is abruptly ended and leads the way inside. "Now hurry up. I wanna see Stiles flip out." You follow him, briefly hesitating at the main door before exhaling silently in relief when you're permitted entry.

The metal, cage-like elevator gives you pause, but Scott promises it works just fine. So after settling inside and vowing to kill him if the elevator fails and falls, Scott presses the button for the loft at the very top of the building. Once stopped, you're then led towards a sliding metal door which Scott readily opens. Again you hesitate, but cross the threshold with no problem.

There are two men in the loft, one whose movements are very familiar and brings a smile to your face. The other one, the one with the dark hair and scruff, well it looks like he's scenting the air until his hardened gaze lands on you. But Stiles, who'd been preoccupied by tell him a story, immediately ceases talking to see what the problem is. And when his gaze lands on you, his jaw drops open and you can't help but snort.

"Holy shit. Y/N?"

"Goddamn, Stilinski," you muse. "You grew up in all the right places." Scott groans and you laugh when Stiles' awed expression turns a bit smug. From one second to the next he's moving and making a beeline for you, the two of you colliding in a hug which he rocks you side to side in. "It's nice to see you too, Stiles."

"How long are you here for? Dad will be happy to see you."

"Two weeks," you tell him as he pulls away. "And I can't wait to see Noah. It's been ages."

"I'm all for reunions," the guy who you're assuming is Derek says, "but why the hell would you guys let me invite a vampire into my home?"

Scott scoffs, Stiles freezes, and you frown at the new guy. This was not how you wanted the news broken to Scott. Your moment of anger, however, is overridden by the fact that there's no immediate denial of the supernatural from either your brother or his best friend.

"My sister isn't-"

"What are you?" You ask, cutting Scott off, glaring at Derek. "You smell wolfish, but so does my brother. Last I knew there was no wolf gene in our family line."

"Y/N, what?" Scott then asks. "You're not- tell him you're not a vampire."

Your gaze slides to Scott and you smile sadly at him. "I'm sorry. I can't do that." He tenses and Stiles takes a few steps back, and your heart breaks. "I promise to explain everything here in a bit, but tell me what's going on. Please. You don't smell human, Scotty, and neither does Eyebrows over there."

Scott gulps and nods, eyes filling with tears that refuse to fall. "Derek Hale comes from a family of werewolves. I'm sure you remember the Hale family before you left for college." There's a huff and you warily eye Derek as he rolls his eyes. Scott clears his throat and continues. "At the start of my sophomore year, I was bitten by a rogue alpha. I turned."

"Huh. I've never met a wolf that could turn someone with a bite."

"Never met a-" Stiles starts, only to stop and redirect his line of thoughts. "Wait, there are other types of werewolves?"

You shrug. "Well, yeah."

Stiles opens his mouth to retort, but Derek is quick to shut him down. "You can get your supernatural fix later, Stiles. Right now, Scott's sister has some explaining to do." By now he's nearly shoulder to shoulder with Stiles, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at you.

The guy's gruff, but since he's not outright threatening you, you don't get defensive. "Um, I died about two years ago."

"You died?!" Both Scott and Stiles yelp.

Your lips press into a thin line as you nod. Scott frowns. "Two years ago is when you stopped coming home to visit."

"I-I had to." You glance at your brother as the first tear falls, but you're quick to wipe it away. "About a year prior to dying, I fell in love with a local. Everything was fine. I was happy," you say. "But as the months passed, I started to realize that there were blank spots in my memories. Some days I'd wake up with bruises I couldn't explain or wake up completely exhausted to the point that I couldn't get out of bed. No one, other than myself, realized something was wrong."

"What happened?" Scott quietly asks.

You sniffle, smiling sadly. "My boyfriend. He was a vampire, only I didn't know it until I was one myself."

"Why only after? Surely you could tell something was up when you were with him," Stiles says.

You shake your head, but it's Derek who says. "Vampires can manipulate the mind. It's one reason my mom wasn't very trusting of them."

"He's right. Our kind can compel people- make them forget something happened or plant memories that never existed," you admit. "As it so happened, my boyfriend was feeding off of me without my consent. And when he took too much, I would pass out and then wake up extremely weakened without a clue as to why. Most of the time he compelled me to think that I was fine- that nothing was wrong with me."

"How'd you figure it all out?" Your brother wonders.

You exhale softly. "I went out partying with some friends. On our way back, my friend lost control of the car and slammed into a tree. I died, but I died with vampire blood in my system." All three guys shift uneasily of learning about the ingested blood, so you quickly explain how it got there in the first place. "When my boyfriend was too rough with me, he'd feed me his blood since vampire blood has healing capabilities. The only downfall of ingesting vampire blood is that if you die while it's still lingering in your system, you wake up in transition."

"Which means you had to feed on human blood," Derek says.

"Yes." Stiles and Scott grimace. "I had woken up in the hospital morgue and found my way to the blood bank. It was- it was a clusterfuck," you admit smally. "I gorged, I cried, and I unknowingly compelled the doctors to make them think that I was fine and then fled the hospital as soon as I could. Fortunately for me, there was another vampire at school. When she realized I was newly turned and I told her what I knew, she felt sorry for me. And since I was a vampire myself now, all my compelled memories started to rush back. She helped me break up with my vampire boyfriend and then took me under her wing. She taught me how to control the bloodlust and introduced me to a witch who made me a piece of daylight jewelry so I'd be able to walk in the sun."

Scott and Stiles appear floored by your story, but it's Derek whose expression has yet to falter. "I have one question," he says. You nod, waiting. "Are you here to cause drama for Beacon Hills?"

"No. Never," you immediately answer him. "I honestly just came for mom and Scott. I didn't expect any supernatural to be here at all or even that my baby brother was part of it now too."

"Okay then." His stern expression briefly falters so he flashes a quick smile. "Then welcome home, I guess."

You huff a quiet laugh. "Thanks. I'm Y/N, by the way. Scott's older sister."

"Derek Hale, co-alpha to the McCall/Hale pack."

"Co-alpha, huh. Does that mean," you trail off and glance at your brother, smiling when his eyes flash red at you. "Cool. The werewolves I know can't do that. They're really only dangerous when they've transformed under a full moon. Other than that, they're as human as can be."

"I have so many questions," Stiles muses.

Derek huffs in amusement. "Don't bother. We have books on other breeds of the same species. I just never brought them out because, until now, vampires never stepped foot in Beacon Hills and we didn't have to worry about other breeds of werewolves." He turns and walks back to a metal table where various books are opened, and busies himself by browsing the pages. Stiles is quick to follow after him and pester him about these so-called books.

Scott steps closer to you, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans as he smiles sheepishly. "So you're fine?" He wonders. "You're not gonna fang out and drain us of our blood?"

"What?" You snort. "No. If I wanted to drain you or anyone else, I'd have done it when everyone was hugging me and my mouth was literal inches from your throats. I'm fine. You guys have nothing to worry about."

"But you drink blood?"

"I do, although I tend to stick to blood bags from a hospital. If I drink straight from the vein, I only take enough to soothe the thirst and then quickly compel the person to eat a snack or go home and nap."

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

You pause. Scott stares at you, and even Derek and Stiles go eerily quiet after the question. You sigh. "Does it matter?" Scott shrugs and you hate you have to admit this. "Yes. My first victim was an accident. It happened when my friend was teaching me how to feed properly and I lost control. It happened twice more, but I was able to save those two individuals before their hearts stopped."

"Any on purpose?" Derek asks from his side of the room.

"A few." You gulp. "The moment a hunter learns you're a vampire, you're apparently fair game. If I have to take a life to keep my own, I will. Dying is not fun and I don't plan on doing it again any time soon." You notice Scott frowns at your answer, but Derek and Stiles hum before accepting your answer as appropriate. And not wanting to get into a discussion of right or wrong, you paste on a smile and change the subject. "So anyway, what else have I missed? Any girlfriends I should know about? Or boyfriends? I don't judge."

Derek snorts and Scott flashes you a crooked smile. "Actually, yeah. My girlfriend and Derek's are out right now buying some stuff to throw a party."

"Oohhh. Do these girlfriends have names?"

"Yeah. Malia and Kira," Stiles says. "Malia's my ex-girlfriend and Derek's long lost cousin, but now she's Scott's girlfriend. And Kira is Scott's ex-girlfriend who is now Derek's girlfriend."

"That is.. weird," you say, chuckling softly. "But cool, I guess, if you guys seem to have no problem with it."

"We're all pack," Scott tells you. "We're more than fine with it."

"And I'm actually dating Lydia Martin," Stiles says, "but she's super busy with school which is why she's not here."

"Lydia Martin?" Your nose wrinkles. "Snooty Martin?"

"Hey!" Stiles quickly reprimands you. "She's not so bad anymore. Not after finding out she was a banshee."

"Hold up. What?"

"Yeah. Lydia's a banshee." He shrugs. "Kira's a kitsune and Malia's a werecoyote."

"Holy shit. What the hell has Beacon Hills come to?"

"That's nothing," Derek says. "If you had been here all along, you'd have seen a lot more than just that. Beacon Hills is a beacon for crazy."

"Yeah. No shit."

What little tension that had been lingering finally vanishes and everyone shares a friendly laugh. But when a newcomer enters the apartment, it has your hackles rising.

"Ugh. Who let a bloodsucking fiend in?"

The elder gentleman that enters is rather attractive, but the scowl he's directing in your direction leaves you scowling back. "Aren't you a little old to be wearing v-necks?"

"And aren't you a little new to be taunting the big bad wolf?"

You hiss. "Do we like this guy?"

Without missing a beat, Derek says, "On occasion."

"Good." Then before anyone can blink, you use your vampiric speed to appear inches from the newcomer, grab him by the throat and pin him to the floor. Stiles and Scott yelp at your sudden movements, but you pay them no mind as you snarl in the wolf's face. "You don't wanna get on my bad side."

The wolf blinks in surprise and everyone seems to hold their breath. You see movement out of the corner of your eye, but since it's slow you don't bother to act on it. Instead, fingers gently touch your face before a thumb brushes on the underside of your left eye where you know small black veins are pulsing. "Beautiful."

You freeze and slowly ease up on the wolf. "What?"

He smirks. "If you wanted me on my back, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask." Derek, Stiles and Scott all groan. "Peter Hale, at your service."

"Y/N McCall," you hesitantly introduce yourself. Climbing off of him and steadily walking on your own two feet, you can't help but knock him down a peg when you see his expression. "And don't look too smug. The other Hale is hotter."

Meeting Malia and Kira was rather interesting, especially when you saw what they were face to face rather than just hearing about it. Seeing Scott and Malia shift almost left you speechless, but seeing Kira left you in complete awe. They had then asked to see you and Malia was the only one to not balk or make some sort of disgusted facial expression when you mentioned needed a bag of blood soon.

Over the next couple of days, Scott manages to convince you to explain to your mom about your new status as a vampire, as well as Noah Stilinski since both of them knew about the supernatural. And since Noah was like a father figure, you, Scott and Stiles got them together for a family dinner where you told them your story. Noah was angry and your mother was heartbroken, but both accepted you with open arms.

Being with your family and your brother's pack brings you a sense of calm that you haven't felt in a long while. You're easily accepted without question and it's like you've known everyone your entire life with how easily they talk with you. Peter, however, is a completely different story. While he's friendly, just like everyone else, he's a little too friendly. You were more than ready to return the teasing innuendos, but then Scott had to burst your bubble by telling you that he was Malia's biological father. Malia, however, is quick to assure you that she and Peter have a rocky relationship and that she doesn't care who Peter chooses to show affection to so long as she didn't have to see it or hear it.

You were hesitant to be so carefree and teasing with Peter afterwards, but the recent lack of male attention had you caving before the week was even over.

"So what happens if your daylight necklace is ripped off?" Stiles asks. It's now Saturday afternoon and everyone is at Derek's, making sure the loft is party ready for later that night. "Do you just burst into flames right then and there?"

"No." You snort. "It starts off as a sizzle and you have seconds to flee to the shadows before bursting into flames." Malia helps you position a keg into a large metal bin, Kira then filling the empty space around it with ice. "And my necklace is spelled. No one other than myself can remove it so I don't have to worry about someone ripping it off."

"I'm not gonna lie, I kind of want to see you burst into flames."

"You're an asshole."

"Actually, I kind of want to see it too," Malia says.

Stiles beams, pointing at Malia and nodding. "See! I'm not the only one."

You glance at Kira and she sheepishly smiles, not even attempting to deter her pack mates who want to see you purposely set yourself on fire. A moment passes before you sigh. "Fine, but you better get me a blood bag or I'm sinking fang into someone's vein."

Stiles is quick to scramble for the kitchen, no doubt making a beeline for one of the few blood bags Derek had tossed into the back of his fridge. You groan but chuckle nonetheless as you look around for the perfect spot and then find it in the corner of the loft just right by the overly large windows. Then settling in the corner with your back against the brick wall, you exhale deeply before carefully reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. Grimacing, you look forward and hold your necklace out for someone to grab. Kira hurriedly steps forward and takes your necklace with gentle hands.

"Jesus Christ. I can't believe I'm doing this." You shakily raise your arm, hand reaching towards the sun rays before your fingers curl into a fist. You sigh, nervously chuckling as you shake your hand out. "Okay. I can do this. It's just a little fire and then I'll heal."

Stiles, Malia and Kira are all eerily silent as they watch you. You're grimacing before the sunlight even touches you and then your whole face is scrunching up when you feel the sizzle before hearing it. Kira gasps and your eyes don't even have to be open to know what they're seeing. Unblemished skin darkening before slowly glowing like burning embers. Seconds later the smoke starts and against your better judgment you hold your ground. At least until you feel your hand igniting in flames and then you're quickly bringing your arm close to your body and patting the fire out.

"Ow, ow, ow." You utter. "Fuck! Give me the blood!"

Stiles is staring at you, wide-eyed, before Malia rolls her eyes and grabs the blood bag from his hands to toss at you. Catching it with one hand, you nod at the werecoyote before dropping fang and biting directly into the bag. At that, Stiles gags. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Pulling your fangs from your snack, you mutter, "Pussy," and then go back to draining the bag.

Stiles gasps in mock offense as the girls chuckle. Your hand had immediately healed after your first gulp, but you drain the bag anyway since you're going to be around a lot of strangers later on.

The loft door slides open and immediately all three wolves wrinkle their noses.

"Why does it smell like burning flesh?" Peter asks. No one says anything, but their eyes slide to you knowingly. You sheepishly smile as you hide the blood bag behind your back. Peter's eyes narrow. "What did you do?"

The heaviness of all their stares makes you squirm. "It was Stiles' idea!"

"Hey!" He barks. "Don't forget about Malia and Kira." Both girls frown at him in betrayal, but he merely shrugs in return. "If I'm going down, I'm taking all of you with me."

All three werewolves sigh, rolling their eyes. Scott and Derek bring in the delicate black lights that need to be fixated around the loft, and the buckets of neon paints. Peter drops whatever was in the brown paper bags he was holding and then saunters towards you. He spots Kira holding your necklace and snatches it from her hands. You subconsciously press your back into the corner, but Peter merely smirks as he unclasps the necklace in his hands and holds it out, waiting to place it around your neck.

"Come on, sweetheart. We don't have all day." Your eyes narrow at his teasing smile and you step towards him so he can put your necklace back on. And since you're facing him, refusing to give him your back, he reaches around you to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. Then letting it settle against your throat, he untucks your hair from the chain and then gently cusps the sides of your neck in his hands while his thumbs brush along your jawline. His smile drops. "Don't do that again. If Stiles wants to see a fire, let the moron set himself ablaze."

"Hey! I heard that."

You blink in surprise at Peter before he takes his leave, only to see the subtly surprised expression Derek is sporting and the sour expression your brother can't help but show. Malia is indifferent to the exchange, Kira looks rather amused, and Stiles is just put out because he was called a moron. Nothing else is said on the matter, so you quickly flee the corner of shadows and get back to work.

          - - - - - - - - - -

The party has only just begun by the time you send Malia and Kira on their way. You had painted both their faces with wolf-like features- Malia in blue and Kira in orange. You had also painted markings along their collar bones, and swirls and floral patterns up and down their arms. They were prepared to wait for you, but you insisted they head on out and that you'd join them soon enough.

You're left alone in Derek's bathroom, bowls of paint and paintbrushes scattered along the counter top as you determine what you want. Eventually you settle for neon green skeletal features, jagged teeth painted over your lips. You outline your neck and collar bones, and then stand there while you fan yourself so the paint will dry.

The faint sound of creaking catches your attention and you immediately glance towards the doorway. Peter stands there, leaning against the door jamb. "Love the handiwork," he says. "Are you taking any requests?"

You faintly grin at him. "No because then that puts the pressure on me to give you exactly what you want. But if you want me to paint you a surprise, then I'm your girl."

"Hmm. My girl. I think I like the sound of that."

"Of course you do." Your eyes roll, but the quirk of your lips tells him you're amused rather than annoyed. "Now get in here. I'll try and make it quick." Peter pushes off the door jamb and walks in, getting up close and personal to your back. You think he's trying to make you squirm, but you merely frown when you realize just how much taller he is than you when you stare at him in the reflection of the mirror. "Well this isn't going to work," you mutter. Pushing the bowls of paint and paint brushes aside, you turn around and hop onto the counter. "There. That's better."

"So much," he says while stepping into the space between your knees.

Snorting, you let the remark slide and grab his face in your hands. Turning his face this way and that way, you hum as you determine what you're going to paint for him. "Wanna match?" You ask. Then without giving him a chance to answer, you grab the bowl with green paint and a paintbrush. "We're gonna match, but you're only getting half a face because I really need to get out there and dance."

Peter fights off a smile as you grasp his chin with one hand and then quickly dip a paintbrush into the green paint with the other. The moment the loaded brush touches the center of his forehead, however, he schools his features so you have an unwrinkled canvas. The left side of his face gets the skeletal treatment, but when that's done you can't help but dip three fingers into purple paint and drag them down the unpainted side of his face.

He grins afterward. "Does this mean I can mark you back?"

"I don't see why not. Just nothing on my face."

Peter carefully coats his entire hand in pink before he looks at you, eyes darting up and down as he determines where he's going to mark. He smirks and then gently wraps his hand around your throat. He leaves it there, squeezing just so, and you gulp beneath his hand.

"Ooohh. Don't threaten me with a fun time." His eyes flare blue in response and you can feel your own eyes change in return as he drops his hand and slowly leans in. You put a hand on his chest to stop his progression. "Seriously, Hale. If you mess up all my hard work before anyone has a chance to see it, I will rip your jugular out."

Peter growls and you quickly lean in to snap your fangs right in front of his face. He shudders and you chuckle lowly before nudging him back and hopping off the counter. After all, you had a party to attend.

          - - - - - - - - - -

The party has a bit more people than you'd expected there to be and even Derek seems a bit surly over how any people are in his home. But the DJ is amazing, the drinks are flowing, and the strobe lights are flashing in tune with the beats.

Everyone is lit up, whether it be their clothing or because of the paint, and you readily slide into the dancing masses. You don't seek out anyone in particular, choosing to dance on your own or anyone who sidles up to you in order to have a good time. But the second they get too handsy for your liking, you're shoving them off and moving on.

You're dancing, swiveling your hips and laughing with a few females who were all too happy to have you join them. You turn around, putting the girls at your back when your hands slide up your neck to gather your hair and hold it up off your neck before letting it fall once more. Your eyes somehow manage to find Peter, but the once teasing wolf looks anything but teasing. In fact, he looks rather pissed. And that- that just won't do.

Pushing through the bodies, you eventually make your way towards Peter from behind and tiptoe so your chin hooks over his shoulder. "So who are we killing?" You muse.

He tenses, but upon realizing who it is he's quick to relax. And without missing a beat, he says, "Two o'clock. Apparently this young man, if you can even call him that, has made the mistake of spiking a drink in hopes of giving it to one of the young ladies here. Fortunately, every female he's tried to pawn it off on has been smart enough to not take the pre-made drink."

His words immediately sour your mood. "Well that just won't do."

Before Peter can stop you, you're falling back onto the balls of your feet and practically skipping towards the guy Peter had been murdering with his eyes. A smile here, a touch there, and whispered promises of a good time goes a very long way and it doesn't take long to have the guy following after you. Then as you're about to pass up Peter with Troy (that was the guy's name, the one who was looking to roofie some poor innocent soul) following you, you flash Peter a wink and mutter follow me just loud enough so that he could hear.

You manage to avoid the rest of the pack as you lead Troy out of the loft and into the hallway, manhandling the all too eager dude-bro against the wall. He's a pretty decent looking dude, but his smug aura and tendency to roofie his potential hook-ups is a major turn off. So you tease him with a pretty smile, leaning in so your lips are just centimeters apart.

"Forgive me. I hope I'm not interrupting."

You pull back, turning half way and grinning at the intruder. There stands Peter, looking like he's not sorry at all. But Troy- Troy is annoyed. "Fuck off, man."

"Well that's no way to talk to your betters," Peter drawls.

"Yeah I gotta admit," you say. "That was a dick thing to say."

Troy glances between you and Peter, scoffing. "Whatever. I can find another girl to get laid by back in the party."

He goes to push off the wall, nudging you out of the way, but your hand lands in the middle of his chest before shoving him back into the wall. "I think not." Then meeting his gaze, you smile cruelly as you say, "Do not make a sound."

Troy's mouth opens as if to tell you off, but not a peep comes out. His eyes widen and Peter chuckles as he saunters towards you. "Huh. Having a vampire around could come in handy."

"So says the werewolf," you muse. Troy struggles against your hand, but he's not going anywhere. Not even when he raises a hand to strike you because Peter reaches out with lightning quick reflexes and catches his wrist. You smirk before looking at Troy. "Now that wasn't very nice. I was just going to let you go after scaring you a bit, but now.."

"Now," Peter says, "I think it's time we give you a taste of your own medicine. Let you know how it feels to have something taken from you without your consent." Troy's eyes widen even more while you and Peter snicker at the spike of fear in his scent. "Y/N, will you do the honors?"

"With pleasure." You stare at Troy, willing your features to change right before his very eyes and hissing when your fangs elongate. He renews his struggle in order to get away, but with your strength and Peter's he's going anywhere. "Now this is going to hurt like hell," you coo. "I want you to feel the fear of every girl you ever roofied just so you could get your dick wet."

Your smiling façade drops as you snarl, opening your mouth wider as your head rears back before you lunge forward and sink your teeth into Troy's neck. You feel him stiffen in pain, struggling even more to get away as you harshly drain his life's essence through the wound in his neck. But the second you feel his struggle lessen, you pull back and lick the corners of your mouth.

Peter chuckles darkly as you pat Troy on his cheeks. "Perk up some, will 'ya? I hardly drained an artery."

"Uh, sweetheart? I don't think he can talk."

"Oh. Right!" Catching Troy's gaze once more, you say, "You can make sound again, but you're never going to speak about what just happened. You're going to forget that monsters exist. All you need to know that if you ever see my face or his face again," you compel him while gesturing to Peter who's now standing over your shoulder, "then you're going to remember something terrible happened but you're not quite sure what. You'll just be deathly afraid. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Good. Also, you're never going to spike another drink ever again. If you ever just THINK about taking anything without the person's consent, you're going to get violently ill and remember the pain in your neck from when I sunk my teeth into it. Got it?"

"Y-Yes."

"Awesome! Now, run along. You're no longer welcomed here."

Troy blinks rapidly, his mind clearing briefly as the compulsion sets in. When he sees you again, and then Peter at your back, his eyes widen before he scrambles to the side and rushes for the elevator. You laugh and wiggle your fingers in a mocking wave. Then the moment he's in Derek's death trap of an elevator and is descending, Peter's crowding you against the wall as he dips down so his hands can grab the back of your thighs and lift you up.

Your legs automatically wrap around his waist and you have a split second of being surprised before his mouth is pressing against yours, tongue licking into your mouth a couple of times, teasing yours, before teeth pull on your bottom lip as he retreats. You groan, hands finding purchase on his shoulders before sliding back and up, and settling at the nape of his neck. "So, uh, violence really does it for 'ya. Huh?"

"You have no idea." Peter leans in once more, nose brushing against yours and leaving you anticipating his next bruising kiss, but he merely presses his lips softly against yours. You whimper and he smirks. "Now, now. Patience is a virtue." You growl and he chuckles. "Trust me. The last thing we need is to get carried away in the hall and-"

"Oh gross. Seriously, you guys!?"

Peter sighs as you jolt in his hold. You're already staring wide-eyed at your brother, so Peter slowly lets you down before bringing you into his side and slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Yes?" He drawls.

Scott wrinkles his nose. "You guys good out here? Stiles said he saw you leave with a stranger and Peter looked a little too happy about it."

"It's fine," you assure him. "Just some guy trying to roofie himself a quick lay." Scott bristles, but your too calm demeanor keeps him from asking questions. "If you're wondering, I just scared him a bit and then sent him on his way."

"Y/N!" He says. "He's just going to go out there and do it again."

"Please," you scoff. "Do you think me dumb, brother? I obviously compelled him."

"She did." Peter smiles. "And it was marvelous. You should have seen it."

"I don't know. It seems to have gotten the both of you amped up so I assume it's something I'd have disapproved of." You and Peter both smile innocently at Scott, and he rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Either rejoin the party or go somewhere else. Don't have sex in the hall. I have to walk through here."

As Scott disappears, you hum and nudge Peter with your hip. "Well would you look at that. You got the alpha's permission to defile his own flesh and blood. Wherever shall we go?"

"I've got a condo downtown."

"Too far. My car is downstairs," you say as Peter chuckles. "We can take the edge off first and then head back to your place."

"Finally! A McCall whose choices I can get behind."

"Are my choices the only thing you'd like to get behind?" You smirk at him, winking, and then start heading towards the elevator. "Lets go, Mr. Wolf. I only have less than a week left in Beacon Hills and I'd like to find out exactly how rough a wolf like you can get."

[multiverse-muse]

A Pretty Cage is Still a Cage

magic!reader x loki, not quite canon compliant, also on my ao3

“Have you enjoyed learning from the strange doctor?” You control your urge to grin wide as you turn to face Loki. You were taking a break in the compound’s library, which was barely ever occupied beyond yourself.

“It’s Doctor Strange.” You correct, shaking your head and rolling your eyes at him, but you can’t hide your smile.

“That’s what I said.” Loki said.

“I’ve actually been training with Wanda, thank you very much. Stephen’s technique was a little too...intellectual for me. Theory learning and such.”

“No wonder you left his teaching, your magic is inane and hardly helped through books.” Loki paused. “Midgardian books, anyway. I’m sure even his Sanctum does not have half the amount of material as my own library.”

“I can’t tell if you’re bragging or still trying to be mean about Stephen.” Loki simply grinned, giving an elegant shrug. You roll your eyes. “Welcome back, Loki.”

“I’m not back for long. Thor wanted to check in on something quickly and then we’re headed back. I was hoping you’d return with us.” Loki explained. You simply blinked at him for a long moment before realizing your mouth was hanging open.

“Wait, wait, me? Going to Asgard?” With you?” You sputter.

“And my brother, but yes, you’ve gotten the gist of it. You need a good teacher if you are to master your magic.”

“Oh, no way. I would stick out like a sore thumb in Asgard. A very ugly, very sore thumb.” You argue. A frown crosses Loki’s face.

“You should know, you’re quite a pretty thumb. Far and away prettier than most. Asgard can hardly prepare itself for you.” Loki retorts. You frown and squint your eyes at him.

“I still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

*

You had not been practicing your magic very long. Nor had you known Loki, Thor, and the other Avengers very long. You had met them only a few months ago, when a Hydra unit hit your hometown, looking for mutants to use in an army. All they found was you: you who had only had your abilities awoken during the scuffle with Hydra. After they were defeated, the Avengers offered you a place at their compound. They knew plenty of magic users who could help teach you or, if you had preferred, they had connections to Professor Xavier. You had declined that offer, preferring to learn from Loki.

Loki himself had not been with the Avengers long. After the death of his mother and his own revelation of sorts, he’d given up on conquest. He still longed for the throne, but now he planned to simply outlive Thor. Which, really, he thought wouldn’t take long, considering how many foolish things Thor gets himself involved with. His presence in the Avengers Compound made him an easy teacher to access.

This set up nicely for the two of you to become quick friends. Both on the outside of the circle, looking in and feeling out of place. Loki was better at hiding it, of course, and to an extent he did prefer to stay out of the spotlight. At least, when it came to the Avengers.

Now, you stood between the two brothers at the Bifrost, having just passed through the nauseating space tunnel thing that Thor uses to travel. Asgard loomed before you, beautiful and decadent and otherworldly. Which it was, you supposed. That and incredibly overwhelming.

“Welcome to our home.” Thor said.

“I’ve already alerted King Odin of your arrival.” You turn and spot a man who could only be Heimdall. You can’t help but appreciate his form even as the thought of Odin terrified you.

“Thank you, Heimdall.” Thor introduced the two of you officially before the two of you and Loki approached the main palace.

“What if your father doesn’t like me?” It bursts from your mouth before you can stop it and you reach out and grab onto Loki’s arm. “What if he sends me back to Earth?”

“Then he’ll only prove his own foolishness.” Loki waved away your concern easily. He took the hand on his arm and placed it in the crook of his elbow, so he was now leading you as you walked. The three of you are met at the door by a guard, joined by others as you walked, and by the time you reached the throne hall, you all had an entourage of nearly a dozen men. Someone on the other side of the door announced your presence and the door began to open. You hastily try to pull your hand from Loki’s arm, though he held tight and sent you a frowning glance.You tugged again but couldn’t budge from him.

“My sons!” Odin greeted from the throne. He was just as intimidating as you’d expected and if not for your hand still being in Loki’s grasp, you’re sure you would’ve either fainted or ran back out the door. “And our honored guest! Welcome to Asgard, milady.”

“Oh, ah, th-thank you!” You squeak out, then whisper to Thor, “Do I bow? Curtsy?”

“You may do either, if you feel the need but I do not require anyone to do so, particularly guests who may be unaware of traditions.” Odin eased your worry. He and the boys spoke for a moment before his attention turned back to you. “Now, as I understand, you are learning magic from my son. I’m curious to see where your abilities lie now, before his teaching.”

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty.” You glance at Loki and Thor with wide eyes before facing King Odin fully. You take a deep breath and raise your hands. One thing you’d learned while training with Dr. Strange and Wanda was that your powers came from feelings, not thoughts. As such, your magic tended to be temperamental. This time however, you channeled your nervousness into a solid energy and opened your eyes to see orbs of pale yellow light floating through the chamber.

“It’s not much.” You admit, lowering your hands. The orbs hang for a few moments before they start to fade, one by one. One falls to the floor and changes shape into that of a cat, which nudges Loki’s leg before disappearing. “But I’m learning.”

“I expect my son will do a good job teaching you, I am curious to see your abilities develop. Now, I allow you all to retire and clean up, for there will be a festive dinner tonight to celebrate your arrival home.” You’re all escorted from the throne room and then led to your chambers. The boys obviously knew where their own rooms were but neither seemed sure where you were meant to go. That question was answered by one of the guards stationed outside Thor’s room.

“One of the spare rooms connecting to Prince Loki’s chambers has been fitted out as a guest’s chambers. King Odin assumed she’d want to be near those she knew.” You sighed with relief even as your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected to be staying so close to Loki.

“Good, good! I will meet the two of you before dinner.” Thor grinned at you and Loki before entering his room. The guards continued to escort you and Loki down the hallway.

“Where’s your room?” You ask. You feel Loki’s arm tense and realize you’ve left your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Just another hallway or so down. Impatient to get into my private chambers?” Loki smirked and you rolled your eyes in response.

“I believe I remember someone promising me that the baths here are fantastic. I didn’t know if I should take one before dinner.” You said. You’re led down a set of stairs to another floor. Loki takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing on down the stairs. The lights seemed to be more abrasive down here, the air cooler. The guards finally stop at a door and gesture you towards it.

“Well, here we are. Home, sweet home.” Loki finally lets your hand drop free and he strolls into the room. After a moment of silence and looking at the guards, you finally follow him through. The first room is simply an antechamber and had three doors leading out. One was still closed, one leading further into a living room style chamber and the last seemed to be a bathroom of sorts. There were no windows in any of the rooms that you could see. The colors were all muted and it felt even chillier in here than in the hallway. You followed Loki into the living room.

“Why is it so…” You trailed off, not wanting to offend Loki if this was how he had meant his rooms to be.

“Bland? Oppressive?” Loki offered.

“I was going to say cold.” You mumble.

“Yes, that too.” Loki lets out a long sigh. “They don’t trust me in the royal corridor. They want me somewhere easy to watch, so they can keep an eye on me. They trust me only enough to go out with Thor. When he is gone, this is where I remain.”

“That’s...sad.” You said. Loki turned to you with a mild glare.

“I do not want your pity.” He snapped. You shake your head.

“No pity, Loki, it’s just sympathy.” You look around the room. Loki had obviously lived here a while: books littered every shelf and flat surface, a few pieces of clothing were tossed over furniture. But it still felt stifling, like there wasn’t quite room to breath. “They’re still keeping you locked up.”

“At least I’m no longer in the prison even further below, locked in a cage among those mongrels.” Loki all but snarls.

“It doesn’t matter how pretty it is, Loki, a cage is still a cage.” You regard the room again while Loki regards you. He walks over to you, looking contemplative.

“You’re the only one who sees this the way I do. My father tells me he loves me, yet there’s chains on the door at night.” Loki muses.

“Really?” You ask in disbelief.

“No, of course not, simple chains would not stop me.” Loki gives you a sly grin and you just give him a deadpan stare. “But, thank you for the...sympathy. Now, go on to your room. Make sure you look decent. If you get bored, you know where to find me.”

*

Dinner was not as wild an affair as you’d feared it would be. Thor explained that feasts were more festive, but a simple welcome home ‘fancy dinner’ was not enough of a cause for the Asgardians to go crazy. Not since Thor and Loki now returned home regularly, anyway. You were quiet all through dinner, mostly due to nerves and the fear that you’d open your mouth and call Odin out for how he still locked Loki away like a bird.

Dinner and the next few days melted away quickly. During morning hours, Loki trained you to use your powers. Afternoons were spent exploring Asgard, meeting people, and warrior training. You didn’t participate in the warrior training. That was specifically for Loki and Thor, occasionally with Sif, the Warriors Three, and/or Brunnhilde. Mostly you read through these sessions, enjoying the outdoors but staying far removed from the scuffles.

“She’s not looking, you can stop trying to show off.” Brunnhilde said, clipping Loki on the shoulder as they were sparring.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked. Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and easily ducked the strike of his dagger. There was a reason Loki preferred magic to actual combat.

“You’ve been showing off, hoping she’s watching. We’re not dumb.” She glances over to Thor and Volstagg, who were tangled in some strange wrestling. “I’m not dumb.” She replied. She disarmed him easily and then knocked him onto his ass. Without thinking, he glanced at you, though you were too absorbed in the book you held and didn’t see him looking so foolish. Loki sighed in relief and then started when Brunnhilde snorted.

“You brothers and your Midgardians.” She strut off over to Sif and Loki had to help himself up out of the dirt.

*

“See, you’re not terrible at this.” Loki said.

“Thanks.” You reply sarcastically, concentrating on the pale yellow shield you’d managed to form around yourself. “That sounds an awful lot like you mean I’m not good at it.”

“I didn’t say that.” Loki grins. You roll your eyes and the magic shield drops. You lower your hands and throw yourself onto the nearby couch. It was easiest for you both to train in Loki’s chambers than to go to any other space where you’d have a handful of guards watching your and Loki’s everymove.

“Can I be done? For a little while?” You grumble. Magic was hard. Magic was tiring. And spending so much time with Loki was making you worry that your heart was going to give out.

“We’ve barely begun.” Loki replies, though he joins you on the couch.

“We can just chill for a while. You’ve been training me and then training with Thor, you must be exhausted.” You say. He simply hums in reply, waving his hand and making a book appear. You grin to yourself, before settling more comfortably into the couch. Every once in a while, Loki would read a passage of the book aloud to you, if he thought it funny or clever or interesting.

The next thing you knew, you were blinking awake slowly. You panicked a moment as someone touched you before realizing it was just someone playing with your hair. It took another moment to realize who it must have been. You were draped across Loki, your head in his lap while he kept reading, his free hand running through your hair. You close your eyes to savor the moment. Loki chuckles lowly to himself and you take a breath to steel yourself.

“What’s funny?” You mumble. Loki’s hand immediately disappears from your hair.

“Just the author being an incompetent fool.” Loki answers. You finally sit up, rubbing your eyes, while Loki gives you a mildly amused look. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You whine, blushing. Loki sets his book to the side and shifts slightly to face you more.

“Someone came by while you slept. My father is preparing a feast to celebrate the beginning of Jul. As an honored guest of his sons, you are required to go.” Loki’s face formed into an unhappy frown. “As a son, I am required to go.”

“So...like the welcoming feast but worse?” You ask. Loki rises, returning his book to the shelf but answering you as he goes.

“The dinner you attended on your first night was not even a true feast. This feast will last for hours, go late into the evening, requires dancing, and almost certainly will end with my brother being so drunk he does something ridiculous.”

“Oh. Wait! What am I supposed to wear?” You ask. When you’d arrived, you’d been brought a variety of garments to choose from. You preferred pants and a top over the dresses that were offered to you, though they were pretty. Simple Asgardian clothing was still fancier than anything you’d ever owned back on Earth. Even still, everything you had at your disposal was not suited for a fancy gathering.

“Clothing, probably.” Loki’s grin turned mischievous. “Or nothing, if you’d prefer, though I would suggest keeping to the chambers if you decide to run around nude.” You throw the pillow from the couch at him, which he easily waves away with a chuckle.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? You ass.” You scoff at him, trying to hide the blush rising. You rise from the couch, checking the clock on the wall. You’d barely learned to read the Asgardian script but you could tell it was time for lunch. Your attention was dragged back to Loki as he approached you.

“Is that such a problem, if I would enjoy it?” Loki asked lowly, reaching up and tucking some hair back behind your ear. You really were blushing now, hardly able to keep eye contact with him.

“Loki-” You were cut off as a bang! came from the door.

“Brother! Y/N!” Thor called from beyond the door. You rushed away from Loki, feeling suddenly very out of breath and very disappointed. You opened the door to reveal a grinning Thor. “Volstagg and his family has invited us for lunch, if you liked to join.”

“That sounds nice.” You say without thinking. You both look towards Loki who has an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’ll stay and eat here, I’d rather not deal with the miniature Volstaggs running around.” Loki comments. You deflated a bit but Thor looked even more disappointed. So you held your tongue, still agreeing to go with Thor, and waved goodbye to Loki, promising to see him later.

***

The next few weeks were spent as the last few, except now most attendees of Odin were running around in a buzz, setting up for the Jul feast. You and Loki had both seemingly decided not to acknowledge whatever it was that was happening before Thor had interrupted you both. Loki had assured you that he’d take care of your attire for the feast, so you had nothing to worry about other than learning Asgardian dances so as not to make a fool of yourself.

More often than not, it was Sif or Brunnhilde who took the time to teach you. Loki and Thor were getting pulled into meetings and off-world visitations with Odin, leaving you to the girls and Warriors Three. You didn’t mind it so much. Brunnhilde was certainly becoming a fast friend and who couldn’t like Volstagg? The others were still in the acquaintance category, though that was changing too.

The morning of the feast, you woke early (though there were no windows with which to really tell the time). You were a ball of nerves and as the day went on, they simply got worse. Loki was nowhere to be found in his chambers or the common areas you two shared. The guard outside the door (only one, since Loki wasn’t present) assures you he’d return to fetch you for the feast and that lunch would be brought to you. So you spent the majority of the afternoon into evening by yourself, fretting and pacing around, while occasionally trying to concentrate on practicing your magic.

You’re startled in the early evening when the main door flies open, Loki sweeping into a room with an armful of boxes.

“I’ve got your dress here, we’d better dress quickly, as my father is an impatient man and it will do us better to arrive fashionably on time rather than late.” Loki said this as he handed you a box. “I’d much rather wait and make a dramatic entrance, but alas.”

“Thanks,” You mumble, taking the box from him. It was quite heavy.

“I’ll have your shoes set out here whenever you’re done.” Loki’s voice followed you to your room. You shut the door softly behind you and then dumped the box on the bed, carefully pulling out the dress from within. The green fabric was a heavy velvet type, but soft and you hoped it wouldn’t be too warm. It wasn’t until you’d stripped and pulled the dress on that you’d realized the type of neckline it had.

“Loki!” You screech, all but stomping out of your room and into the common room. You hands held up the very low neckline and covered the expanse of chest and cleavage it left exposed. Loki’s door was slightly ajar and he poked his head around to look at you. A slow grin worked its way across his face. “I can’t wear this!”

“Obviously you can. Give me a moment to fully dress.” Loki disappeared back behind his door, though you could swear you heard him chuckling slightly.

You went back to the mirror in your room and examined yourself in the dress. The heavy velvet helped the dress lay in a flattering way across your body, down to the floor, though the long slit in the front made you nervous to walk. The bardot neckline would’ve been nice had it been an inch or so higher, but currently it showed off a little too much of your chest for you to be comfortable, especially considering the v-shaped notch in the front that showed off a hint of the skin between your breasts. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were just a thick band of the same velvet and surprisingly didn’t restrict your movement too much.

“Alright, what was the issue?” Loki called. You slowly trudged to the shared room, moving your arms back up to cover your chest. And you stilled in the doorway. Loki has always cleaned up nicely but you’d never seen him go all out in a suit and tie. It was a very modern, very Earth style outfit, all black except for the silky green shirt beneath the jacket (a green that nearly matched the color of your dress, you noted absentmindedly). He had smoothed his hair back so it lay across his shoulders but out of his face. As you looked him up and down, he did the same to you. “You’ve not even put on the shoes.”

Loki picked up a box near the couch before approaching you, opening it to reveal dainty and strappy golden heels. When you didn’t make a move to take them, he rolled his eyes with a slight smile on his face.

“You’re meant to put them on.” Loki said.

“I-I can’t bend over to put them on.” You said distractedly, eyes still lingering on his lean form. He huffed but tugged on your arm, leading you to the couch.

“Sit.” You did. You kept your arms covering your chest but almost dropped them in surprise when Loki knelt, slipping the shoes on your feet quickly and with ease. “There, now, up.” You stood shakily, though the heels proved to be sturdier than they appeared.

“I can’t wear this to the feast, Loki.” You repeated. Loki shook his head.

“And why not? I chose this style especially for you, picked out the fabric and everything.” Loki...was he pouting? “There’s no time for a new one to be made.”

“I didn’t need a special made dress. I would’ve stood out badly enough in a regular Asgardian dress. This is....too much. For me.” You almost reach out to him but at the last minute remember what your hands are covering. The small movement catches Loki’s gaze and he frowns again, nearly unnoticeable but there. He reaches out slowly, taking both of your wrists in his hands.

His eyes seek yours, anticipating you to stop him, but you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to do so. If there’s anyone is this realm you trust, it’s Loki.He pulls your hands away from your chest, bringing them down between the two of you. His eyes sweep across your figure and you can’t stop the heat rising to your face, your ears.

“Just a moment, dear.” Loki disappears into his room for just a moment before emerging again, something cradled in his hands. He pockets it before pulling your hair up and away from your neck , though if he makes it stay with pins or magic, you aren’t sure. Then from his pocket he pulls out the necklace he’d fetched from his room. It’s all dainty gold chain, except for the large emerald colored jewel hanging in the center.

You shiver as his hands go around your neck, fastening the necklace. It sits heavily along your chest, the many loops of chains almost tickling your skin. The stone sits nicely just above the middle of your breasts, a large shimmering stone that complemented the dress nicely. When Loki didn’t remove his hands, you finally gain the courage to look up at him. His gaze lingers a moment longer on your chest before meeting your gaze. He almost looks tinged rosy himself but he offers a soft smile and steps back.

“There. Perfection in mortal form.” Loki smiles at his work and, yes, it is a beautiful outfit, but you are still distracted with the amount of skin you’re exposing. “Any more unnecessary complaints?”

“No.” You mumble. Loki was not going to let you change, you’d finally accepted that. “Loki, are you really wearing an Earth suit? To an Asgardian feast?”

“I thought it looked quite fetching, and judging by your staring earlier, I would assume you did as well.” You shot him an unamused and slightly blushing look. “Besides, I am one of the royals Princes, and Gods know Thor never looks the part.” You snort at that, shaking your head.

“They’re gonna stare, so much.” You whine. Loki smiles.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

***

“You look ready to die.” Brunnhilde says as she sidles up to you. You nearly jump out of your skin, your drink sloshing almost out of the glass.

“No one is talking to me, no one has asked me to dance.” You hiss at her. You’d watched as the evening wore on and many people had approached the other women for dances. Loki and Thor had been swept into the political meet-and-greets so you’d been sitting mostly alone, save for the few times Brunnhilde or Sif had stopped to check on you. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, you can blame Loki for no one trying to dance with you, you know.” Brunnhilde said. At your confused look she sighed and pointed at your necklace. It glimmered even in the dim room and seemed to swirl with magic. “That necklace is like a land claim. He’s using it to warn other men to stay away from you.”

“What?” You reach up to handle the stone, which was warm to the touch. You frown at the idea of Loki’s possessiveness and try to unhook it from your neck. Your fingers scramble against the back of the necklace but find no purchase: there was no way to remove it.

“To be fair,” Brunnhilde continues, sipping her drink, “You do look incredible in that dress. I can’t blame him for wanting to keep you to himself.” You clumsily excuse yourself from her company, heading straight for an empty balcony. You needed the fresh air, to breath. You stood out there for who knows how long before you sensed a presence behind you.

“Are you out here hiding?” Loki asked, joining you at the railing. You turn to him with a furrowed brow.

“No, not that it matters. No one in there would speak with me anyway.” You say and a confused look crosses his face, before you jab your finger towards the necklace around your neck. The confused look fades into almost a sheepish look but that too quickly disappears.

“I suppose Brunnhilde told you what it implies? I saw the two of you speaking.”

“Yes, she did tell me. Unlike you.” You cross your arms. The movement causes Loki to glance down and his eyes linger on your gilded chest. Realizing this, you quickly uncross your arms. You poke him in the chest. “Quit, just- Stop staring!”

“My apologies, it can be hard to look away from an image so tantalizing.” Loki curls his hand around the one you’d used to poke him. He didn’t let it go, simply held on to it, connecting the two of you.

“Stop teasing me.” You huff.

“How am I teasing? I am stating the truth.” He says it simply.

“Loki,” You start but nearly choke on the feeling of your heart in your throat. Why is it that Loki, that liking Loki, can make you so nervous?

“Yes, ástin mín?” You pause, taken aback by the use of the Asgardian language.

“What? What does that mean?” You ask. Loki sighs, not out of impatience or annoyance but as if to steel himself.

“I recognize I have perhaps been unfair to you, Y/N.” Loki says, his thumb lightly rubbing the one of yours that he is holding. “I had you wear the necklace for myself, not for you. I reasoned that it would protect you from untoward advances, thought it didn’t cross my mind you might would have wanted the attention.”

“I’m-what? No, no, I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with other people in there.” You shake your head. “I just felt like no one wanted to have anything to do with me because I’m an outsider.”

“I’m sorry that I am the cause of you feeling such a way. Might you forgive me?” Loki asks. You smile but smile meekly up at him.

“Only if you tell me what you called me a minute ago.” You say. Loki stills.

“Ask of me anything else and I’ll oblige.” Loki says. He keeps his eyes down, away from you. He tries to pull his hand from you but you hold on tighter to him.

“Nothing you could say could make me leave, Loki.” You say, sounding confident despite your nerves. “You could call me an old hag and I’d still...You’d still be my favorite person.”

“You would still?” Curse Loki and his unwavering attentiveness. You shake your head, unable to say the words. Loki’s expression lifts, a slight smile curling across his features. He takes one step towards you, then another, until there is barely any space between you.

“If you would stop me,” Loki says, his voice almost a whisper as he leans closer to you, “Do so now, before I cannot stop myself.” You say nothing.

The kiss is soft at first, a tentative touch. Loki was waiting for you to stop him, you realize. To refuse him. You reach up with your free hand and grasp his lapel lightly. It’s a light touch but it's enough for him to feel and understand. He drops the hand of yours he had been holding so he could bring both of his hands to your face, cradling your face between his hands as he pulls away just slightly from you.

The look on Loki’s face is an extraordinary one. All of his armor had fallen away and you were finally seeing him as he wanted to be. He was unguarded and looking at you as if you were the only source of warmth he’d found in decades.

“Ástin mín. It means my love.” You can’t help but stare at Loki at those words, heart pounding in your chest. Even as your heart stutters, you tug on his jacket, tugging him back to you.

This kiss is more heated, less slow. Loki’s hands still curl around your face, sliding into your hair and pulling you ever closer. You loop your arms around his neck, thankful for the heels that boost your height just enough to do so without stretching terribly far. The kiss is needy, as Loki pulls you impossibly close to him.

“Excuse me, sire.” The two of you part at the words, Loki barely tilting his head to look towards the guard.

“What is it?” Loki asks, bitingly. He hands dropped from your face to your hips, still holding you near him.

“Your father says that your presence is being missed.” The guard speaks uneasily, obviously unnerved by Loki’s glare.

“My father can wait. Now, leave us.” Loki orders. The guard does not hesitate to scramble back inside. Loki looks back to you, with an amused look on his face. “Do you even see what you’re doing?”

“What?” You look around and see magic orbs of yellow floating around the two of you, swirls of the same magic wrapping around the two of you. “Oh, my god.”

“Feeling-based magic is a bit of a giveaway, is it not?” Loki teases softly and you bury your head into his chest, groaning in embarrassment. He laughs lightly, a laugh you’ve so rarely heard. “I cannot complain, I suppose. It is gratifying to see the reaction I cause within you.”

“You are going to be so insufferable.” You mumble into his chest. You sense the smile on his face and end up smiling yourself when you feel him plant a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I suppose we’d better head back to the feast, before my father sends Thor after us. That’s not a conversation I feel particularly up to. And if we’re lucky, we’ll sneak away early.”

[omgkalyppso]

The Unforgotten King

A Dimimari drabble that fits into Fae's post canon.

The icy winds pouring down from the frigid Fraldarian mountains were starting to upset the horses with how cold they were. Many roads this far north were impassable for carriages; even the main roads, which in many cases were the only option, were made to constrict the approach of enemies and allies alike, venturing to and from the historically chaotic northern border, and the capital to the south.

They had come first by boat and then followed the trade routes carved out by the fishing villages on the eastern coast.

Marianne held her scarf against the chill, wincing and shaking her head about Dimitri, with his scarf pulled down around his smile as he spoke about his homeland. He'd long ago let his hat fall back around his shoulders, secured by a cord about his neck, and his bound hair was a tangle as a result of the gales. He was going home, and it was as clear in his person as it was in his temperament. His nose and cheeks were pink and frozen, and his beard was gelid with frost, but the Faerghan climate suited him. Marianne even suspected that the temperature might have been harsh on another man's injuries, but Dimitri was only livelier by the mile.

Some might have said he was as a boy gone to the fair, but she knew him too well now, and could see the flit of his eye as he watched the forests. He was fighting his hauntings and his memories of war, and trusting her and their guard with his insecurities. A vast improvement when compared to the dreary state of his heart and mind during the year or two past.

Marianne had worried that despite Dimitri's growth, that returning to Faerghus was going to upset him and his friends, when he and they found him without the crown, without the armour and attire one expected of a king, and with the continued trauma of never having achieved his vengeance. She was overjoyed that it was nothing so simple.

.

"Do you see how the trees have turned from green to blue here?" Dimitri asked, gesturing to the evergreens, brightening as Marianne nodded. "They say the Goddess took pity on the verdant evergreens of Fodlan after her first ice storm, and blessed all the trees north of Conand River with a piece of her home on the Blue Sea Star, that they might from then on weather the storms."

Marianne held her scarf from her face as she replied, "They're quite beautiful. I hear they house wildlife too? I would have expected we'd only find migratory birds out in these temperatures."

"It would be wonderful to hear an owl at night," Dimitri mused. "You are right, though. There are a variety of creatures in the underbrush."

"As stubborn as any Faerghan," Marianne joked. "Although I suspect, in regards to your tale of a blessing, that similar accounts are told of the seas themselves, rather than only of Faerghan forests. Anything blue."

Dimitri had blushed and laughed awkwardly at Marianne's initial declaration, knowing that it was true that sailors in Faerghus were revered and worried perhaps even that he had misremembered his own short yarn, but then he'd smiled and contributed softly, "It is a color dear to my heart."

"Because of your house banner?" Marianne asked as if to confirm, offering Dimitri no space to argue. "Perhaps a square or kerchief could be sewn in one of your pillows? Or some other secret space? I am sorry that you're only clad as one of my guards."

Dimitri shook his head. "An honor. I am glad to ride beside you, Mari— my lady, and ... maybe with the right materials, I could try to award myself with the gift you suggest. It would be a small and challenging project for a man of my extremely limited skill."

.

Upon their arrival at the manor in Fraldarius, they were escorted to the entrance hall, where Dimitri embarrassed Rodrigue with a bow and an embrace.

"Dimitri," Rodrigue said softly, as a reprimand and a prayer, testing the name, free of title and ornamentation. "It is good to see you again. If Felix had not seen you himself, I would have assumed a ruse or extortion." He pulled away, a hand still on his once and fallen king's shoulder. "To bury you, would be as burying another son—"

"Rodrigue—" Dimitri said, meaning to interrupt.

"Humor me," he begged. "Hear me. Not only am I proud to host you, in secret, in public, but should you ever need a home in Faerghus, we will never turn you away." Rodrigue swept a tear from his eyes, "Hm. I think you'll find my lack of decorum is your fault, for hugging me first—"

"My sincerest—"

Rodrigue chuckled. "Don't apologize. Just know that I intended to be more reserved, for the sake of Lady Marianne, if not for that of my son."

"Where is Felix?" asked Dimitri, as a door to the entrance hall opened at the top of a far stair, and Felix, Annette, Sylvain and Ingrid rushed out of it.

Although Felix had been to visit him in Margrave Edmund's territory three times, Dimitri could not suppress his joy at his friend's reveal, and after Rodrigue's admission, he could either hope that Felix too thought of him more fondly, or else worry that he needed to apologize to the younger Fraldarius for what he'd inspired in his father. "Felix!"

Dimitri spared a glance for Marianne, who waved him off delicately so that he could rush to his friends at the base of the stair. She shared a far more respectable greeting with Duke Fraldarius.

.

"Wait—!" Felix started to object, but too late or with too little conviction to keep Dimitri from fitting his arms around him and Ingrid and squeezing them to his chest.

Ingrid laughed happily, and Felix scoffed when Sylvain was greeted with only a joined hand and a clap on the shoulder, though Annette then jumped into Dimitri's arms.

"I half worried it was an exaggeration," Dimitri said softly. "That you all could make it."

"Mercedes and Dedue's boat is expected tomorrow," Sylvain said to assure him.

"Ashe won't be here for a week," Annette lamented as her feet hit the floor, "but I hear that will be long enough to see you?"

"I won't leave before," Dimitri promised. "It would break my heart if his journey from Gaspard was fruitless."

"Did you know that he needed to wait for Linhardt to take up residence in Gaspard?" asked Ingrid. "To deter the Adrestians from overreaching — even now."

"As well as general rebellion," Felix supplied. "Things aren't exactly settled that far west."

"You're helping him?" Dimitri confirmed, and a part of his heart stirred to be able to have this conversation with Felix in person, rather than over a period of days by letter.

"Fhirdiad's helping him," Felix said and then frowned when the others around Dimitri looked at him more directly, and corrected himself. "Yes, I'm helping him."

Fhirdiad had been Felix's home and his charge these past few years. He had taken up the title of Archduke and wielded his role with purpose. He always intended to return to Fraldarius, imagining that there would be an opportunity to suggest another lord be honoured with the capital region, but some days he worried he had sealed his fate. His father, and Sylvain, were less subtle in their matching inquiries about his return, but it seemed all others were slowly becoming accustomed to him sitting in that place of kings in the more temperate south.

"I appreciate it," Dimitri said carefully.

"There'll be plenty of time to worry about the shadow of dissent tomorrow," Sylvain said, looking to change the subject. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh," Dimitri said in surprise, looking down at himself, dressed as a Leicester soldier in wool and armour.

"Are you warm enough?" asked Annette, turning over a side of his cloak to assess its thickness.

Dimitri chuckled. "I'm plenty warm, I—"

"How many layers is that?" Ingrid inquired critically.

"Do the rest of Marianne's escorts have hats like this?" asked Sylvain, propping Dimitri's upon his golden hair.

"Four. No, most have wool lined leather caps."

"Four? Like this? That's not enough," Ingrid worried.

"We'll warm him with drink and games," Sylvain suggested. "Maybe dancing if Annette feels like singing?"

Annette squeaked in protest, but Felix spoke first.

"You're being ridiculous. Dimitri's had a long ride—"

Dimitri's lips tightened to hear Felix call him by name, and he spoke gently, worried he might break this simple spell of friendship when he spoke in favour of Sylvain's suggestions, "I think it would be nice to drink with everyone, but I might like to bathe first. I fear as soon as I loosen my collar my sweat will thaw from where it's frozen upon me."

Three exaggerated tongues of disgust extended in sympathy.

"Do you want to stay inside?" asked Felix. "Wood fires can heat baths in the lower levels."

"Oh, no, lets show Marianne the hot springs," Annette said, as if pleading with Dimitri, though he would have agreed without any provocation.

"I would like that," he agreed, looking at Felix for permission.

With an expression of vague annoyance, Felix nodded, and then he and Dimitri each glanced to where Marianne continued her conversation with Rodrigue.

.

There was a social element to the hot springs that Marianne feared, but Sylvain made a joke that set her at ease, and challenged her to try the new experience.

Dimitri half expected Felix to return home after dutifully guiding their group to their destination, and thanked him for his continued company and conversation, such as it was, while they sat together in the steaming water. Sylvain was kind and assertive, inspecting Dimitri's right side as he stretched his arm and took advantage of the heat, to massage strong fingers into his shoulder.

Elsewhere, Ingrid and Annette had Marianne giggling as the trio raced from the spring to the snow and back again each time they grew over-red from being boiled together.

Later, they drank and reminisced, and Ingrid pulled Dimitri aside, to reaffirm that she would have been his knight and protector ... and that she still would, if he wanted to pursue his place in Fhirdiad. She saw no reason to defer to the law in Garreg Mach when Faerghus could still have its own king, and if not that, then at least he could be recognized, as the rest of them were, within Fodlan's nobility.

The shock that overtook Dimitri frightened her, when she had only meant to offer him his ancestral home, and the respect many had died to get him.

Sylvain and Felix were in listening distance, and Ingrid had known that; the four of them looked to Marianne, weaving Annette's hair in a five strand braid, while they spoke of seals and bears and other creatures that plagued the harbours.

Felix hissed about how Ingrid would throw them from one war into another, reminding her that Dimitri was hidden away precisely to avoid what she was suggesting: that there would be people willing to die for their rightful king to reclaim his place in Fhirdiad.

Everything would change if Dimitri returned, and they'd lose the trust of the Adrestians, especially Ferdinand, when they had already been caught in another lie.

"You can't come back," Felix said to finish his argument. Aggressive, nervous, cruel.

"Dimitri should be given a choice now that he's recovered," Ingrid said, firm.

"He's recovering," Sylvain insisted.

With a great expression of self control, Dimitri maintained his volume as he declared for his friends' forgotten benefit, "I am right here." He waited for the shame to silence them before he went on. "And things are not ... how I envisioned them — how I wanted them? My mind and upbringing feel ... wasteful, at times; and yet I have been consulted," he sighed, "on strategy and trade, customs and etiquette — by Felix and Marianne both. My input is heard in Faerghus and Leicester, and if I willed it, I am sure that Garreg Mach is within my reach ... even Almyra."

Sylvain raised his tankard in salute as he walked away then, seeing that a fight wasn't about to break out, and that Dimitri had their conversation well in hand. He complimented Annette's hair, and strove to further distract the ladies from the dark turn of that other corner of the room.

"If Faerghus was threatened, I would find my way back here, lance in hand. But I trust the peace that's been building. And the crown, as it was, only invited duplicity and massacres. Faerghus will thrive without me." With one arm he embraced Ingrid, pressing a kiss to her temple. "And Sylvain is right, I have been recovering. I would not risk all of Faerghus' progress, all of your work," his eyes drifted to Felix for a moment, "because I could not accept the truth of what a minister said. I still struggle. I am more comfortable with smaller challenges ... and I would appreciate your reassurance of our friendship as I am."

"Of course, Mitya," Ingrid insisted.

"Thank you."

"I miss you," Ingrid clarified. "I miss... The lives I thought I'd have by now."

"Change is painful," Felix agreed, sharp and forgiving.

"Yours is a life worth celebrating," Dimitri promised. He drank at the same time as his old friends, and then fumbled after, worried about sounding too much like his healers, but still he added, "Take time to recognize success."

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by Marianne and Annette hollering with laughter, and Dimitri could not even imagine Marianne's disappointment in him if in returning to Fhirdiad he brought a new conflict to her doorstep. He could not imagine his own heartbreak if their peoples ever returned to bloodshed. Sadly, he had imagined his horror with the possibility of witnessing another day like the tragedy, his blue love desecrated, their hypothetical children screaming, and him again, a lone survivor.

He would not speak of this in casual conversation with his friends, though perhaps in private with Marianne at some later time.

He was grateful for his anonymity.

.

It was late in the night when they made for bed, and Marianne was as drunk as he, and Dimitri worried between her state and their locale that he shouldn't have followed behind the door of her rooms. They had lain together a handful of times, but not for weeks now, yet she pressed him against the door like it was a casual thing, delicate fingers curving over his hips.

They leaned close as if they might kiss, and then she turned her face away from him with a sigh.

"I hope I haven't made a fool of myself. Did you have a good night, Mitya?"

"Beloved," Dimitri beckoned, curving a large hand around the side of her face, his scarred fingers had been mended and shattered an embarrassing number of times in the early use of his Crest. He guided her to look at him, his shining blue eye, deep as the ocean in the dark of the room.

"Thank you for bringing me here," he said, his tone deep and sincere. "The snow, the culture, my friends... I missed them more than I realized. I've had a very good night."

His last sentence was near whispered upon her lips, his thick lower lip tickling against her mouth.

Eyes closed, Marianne hummed her approval, bumping her nose against Dimitri's; narrow and then bulbous, a pretty princely feature that somehow he still maintained despite the violence in his life.

He bent to kiss Marianne, his hands finding her upper arms, her shoulders, her neck, and her twin braids, a gift from Annette that extended nearly to Marianne's waist.

"I should let you sleep," Dimitri whispered, though he felt how Marianne's hands wandered, pressing his shirt against the muscles on his chest and stomach.

Marianne looked from her bed to Dimitri. "Let me sit," she requested, "and I'll untie your hair. Stay with me a while longer." She swayed a little and Dimitri worried he would have to catch her. "Your friends are kind," Marianne confided, "but it felt a little strange as the night wore on, and maybe it's just me, and maybe it's just the building, but I know I can rely on you. Say you'll stay."

"A while longer," Dimitri agreed, drifting a thumb through her bangs as his hand rested on the side of her tightly bound hair again.

He sat between her knees while she pulled the ribbon from his fine hair, carefully carding through it with her fingers around the strap of his eye patch, and then allowing her hands to find the muscles of his neck, thick from stress and training.

One dainty foot made it's way over one of Dimitri's monstrous shoulders, and he brought the opposite one over his other side, leaning back into Marianne's space so her skirt ballooned out around him. They shared a soft laugh.

"Did you have any trouble today?" Marianne asked, gentle in her approach of his occasional visions.

"I thought of Glenn," Dimitri confided, "but I am uncertain if I saw him or imagined him today. There are many memories of him here. And ... at the gates, I ... I saw some violence that was not there, but I could not hear it. I'll write it down tomorrow."

"Tell me about Glenn? There must be a happy memory tucked into what came to mind."

"He would have made you feel welcome," Dimitri insisted with a smile. "He was very personable, and I was always glad to be in his company — though I was always closer with Felix, and so thought, like Felix, that I was in contest with him. Unless my Crest activated, I was always left embarrassed, and regardless of whether my Crest activated, I always lost. Felix was often disappointed in both of us."

.

Dimitri spoke of friends like family until well after Marianne curled up on her side. He stayed on the floor, and spoke with less frequency, though the memories didn't fade. He could picture Glenn on the opposite side of the room, a macabre spectre of the self from his memories, but it wasn't a hallucination this time, just a horrible imagining, the loss of a friend.

Dimitri kissed Marianne's forehead, and she mumbled that she was still awake, despite sounding as if she were miles away. Still, Dimitri smiled and kissed her lips, just in case, and then left for his own chamber.

[tobiosmilktea]

amor vincit omnia — akaashi keiji

     ↪︎ O2. I CHOOSE YOU

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i absolutely hated rewriting this chapter after it glitched out the first time 😔

since the beginning of your first year of university, you and the rest of your lovely friends had been eating in the library, specifically the large round table secluded and at the very corner for every meal without fail, and nobody really cared to stop you guys for two reasons. For one, no one really goes into that corner of the library that only collected dust, and two, you guys were there so often that you all befriended all the librarians to the point they stopped coming by to tell you guys to leave and eat in the canteen instead.

you were placed between daichi and kiyoko, counting the seconds by as they worked diligently in silence, munching on their lunch in the process. daichi tapped on the keys on his laptop rather quickly, the impact of each click being unnecessarily loud while kiyoko was cross-referencing documents and highlighting lines of never ending texts in a nice muted green color. tsukishima, on the other hand, was too preoccupied reading his book. eyes completely glued to the novel resting in his hands as he readjusted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. sugawara was out and about somewhere in the sea of towering bookshelves to find a book to read, mentioning something along the lines of—and you quote, ‘something to quench his thirst for entertainment.’ 

it was honestly just his fancy way of saying that he was bored out of his goddamn mind. perhaps you were the same, eyes wandering your surroundings for something, just something to capture your attention for a few moments. it wasn’t at all difficult, actually, considering how pretty your university was.

higashi university had always been your dream college. not just by its blatant aestheticism, but the academia as well. with tanaka and nishinoya being your main friend group during your high school days, it feels rather refreshing being surrounded by other incredibly smart individuals than constant brain rot.

(no offense to tanaka and nishinoya, you loved them to pieces)

and as your mind began to wander, so did your gaze. from admiring the library’s interior to looking out the window, your lips slightly curved down into a frown.

it was only noon and the clouds were already darkening the sun’s piercing rays that usually shone through the large domed windows of the library. it was going to rain soon and for a couple hours as well.

it’s quite peculiar to think about now after you received that damned chain letter. earlier this morning, while shoving on your wool sweater and trousers, that even the weather app on your phone didn’t show any signs of inclement weather until an hour after you texted your group chat in an awkward panic.

you didn’t really pine yourself to be so superstitious. if anything, you were the complete opposite, and yet, here you were worrying over the sound of rumbling thunder in the distance.

tsukishima lifted his gaze from the words printed on his novel as he pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. he flickered a look at you, a smirk appearing on his visage the moment he noticed the way you stared at a single drop of rain on the window, flowing down rather slowly.

that stupid letter of yours was still in your hand as well. he watched you fiddle with the corners, careful not to mess with the mahogany red wax stamp that sealed the envelope.

“have you thought about which poor, unfortunate soul you’re going to give it to?” he asked, smirk still annoyingly evident. this was the third time he asked you this question in a span of three hours.

you flicked your eyes towards him coolly before it fell onto the letter in your hands. "ask that question again and i’ll be sure to send it your way, tsukishima.”

“i’d like to see you try, honestly.” he muses, “your best bet is probably slipping it into one of your professor’s inboxes. maybe professor oshiro, by chance?”

“please,” you snort, “she only gave me one failing grade that i eventually made up in the end.”

“just give it to a random stranger,” daichi cuts in, eyes still glued to his laptop as he typed his fingers away. dark circles dusting his eyes like a dark shadow. law school was certainly doing its works on the likes of poor, poor sawamura daichi.

he shrugs, evidentially fatigued when he meets your eye.

“that way your grades won’t have to potentially deal with the consequences if your professor finds out.”

you nod, humming in response. that would be terrible.

sugawara then emerges from the maze of bookshelves, holding up a book towards you with a smile on his face. “found one,” he beams, tossing it atop the messy table.

you reach for the book as sugawara pulls out his chair whilst he mutters something to his daichi about his whereabouts.

“wuthering heights?” you say the title aloud and capture kiyoko’s attention along with it.

“yeah. have you guys read it?” the silver-haired boy asks. he takes your opinions quite seriously knowing how much of an avid reader you and kiyoko were. whenever he needed book recommendations or opinions, he would always go to you two.

you nod, “i quite liked it.”

“some parts tend to be slow, though.” adds in kiyoko, taking the novel from your hands and flipping through the pages briefly before slipping back over towards sugawara. “it should keep you occupied for a few days.”

you chuckle slightly, giving her a look. “you forget how slow suga is at reading. the few days it takes us to finish a book is a good month for him.”

offense coated sugawara’s expression as he lets out a scoff in retaliation. “don’t you have a chain letter to give to someone?”

“she’s stalling,” tsukishima teases.

“am not!”

“then want to go give it to a random stranger then?”

your brows draw together, “right now?”

tsukishima nods as he stuffs his belongings back into his bag. “i’ll come with you for shits and giggles.”

a sigh escapes you, rolling your eyes as you take a look at the letter one last time and wanting to laugh at yourself for doing all this. a full chain letter from front to back, with the first quarter of it is you viciously apologizing that you had to do this in neat cursive handwriting, all written in fifteen minutes.

you gave in.

“fine,” you huff as you grab your own bag as well.

“good luck,” kiyoko muses up at you as you squeeze past her.

tsukishima waits for you until you’re by his side, strides shorter than usual just to match your pace as you two navigate through the labyrinthine arrays of bookshelves. the letter was in your hand, all small and discrete for a quick and easy delivery to an unsuspecting victim. your palm perspired slightly as you kept your eyes open, scanning for an easy person as you were aware of the possible repercussions.

you could easily get in trouble for doing something this childish, but you were in too deep already.

“hurry up and find someone, we’re almost at the entrance already.” tsukishima hisses in a harsh whisper.

“i’m working on it!” you hiss back.

“working on what?” a familiar voice asks then, capturing both you and tsukishima’s attention, whipping your heads towards the owner.

kuroo combed his freehand through his hair while he had two textbooks tucked under his other arm. he gave you a smile.

you never really got close with kuroo despite meeting him at nationals a few years back. despite only talking a few times due to him being good friends with tsukishima, you knew he was nice, incredibly smart in the sciences, and yet oddly awkward for someone as good looking as he.

not him, you thought to yourself, too nice.

“a little project,” the blond immediately answers just like that. “our majors tend to overlap sometimes, so we decided to partner up.”

“nice, i’m here with my friends to study as well.” kuroo states, causing your eyes to scan behind them for any evidence of their rambunctious selves.

like kuroo, you weren’t close with any of them either. if anything, they were just mere acquaintances on the precipice of becoming strangers. regardless, they all seemed quite nice too from your lack of interaction with them.

tsukishima says something in response then, igniting a short little catch-up conversation with an old high school friend as you lay distracted. your eyes flicked down to a study table in front of you, one of the chairs just a foot shy from you had a satchel hanging off of its side. the brown leather flap was wide open with its owner nowhere in sight as you gave your surroundings a once over.

carefully, you made your way over the table, pretending as if you were taking something out of your bag as kuroo was being distracted by the blond. neither of them were looking at you fortunately. as you placed your bag back over your shoulder, you slipped the letter right into the open satchel right at the same time–the envelope falling and disappearing into the depths of the bag.

“i’ve got to get to my next lecture,” you say to the two men, giving tsukishima a sly wink that it was a job well done. “i’ll see you guys around.”

checkmate.

fun facts! —

after kiyoko graduated and moved to tokyo, (y/n) and kiyoko kept in touch by sending each other cute handwritten letters

no one really is aware of that area in the back of the library since no one goes in that section often (this is uhh,, an important detail for later 😳)

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@channiechanchan @elianetsantana @suhkusa @agaashesmilktea @dwcljh @duhsies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @kitsunetea @morpheus-rex @noeminemi @ntimacy @kurokenchan @kittyddandnyla @amboisez @komouri @stargirlara @itsmeaudrieee @immxnty @spicyshinsou @bombardia @yammerss @crescenttooru @tadashi-simp @sunanyaa @saikishairclip @marvel-ing-at-it-all @seijqhigh @normalisthenewnorm @allielozoya @peteunderoos @inflxxtions @peg-legz4 @kawafika @apollochjld @bap-kingdom @yongboxerrr @kenssister @galacticyoongs

[galeforged]

Meme for the Mun: 5, 7, 17, 18!

via Meme for roleplay muns! (open!)

—

5. What is a character you love, but don’t think you can write?

(tagging @nobleburn for the duplicate!)

So... As you may have noticed, none of my muses really count as main characters? Some play a supporting role with a decent amount of time in the limelight at most, and others, meanwhile only show up once or twice in their respective series before dipping out entirely—usually with little detail from the source material to work with!

An example of the former: I have Zeke von Genbu lined up as a potential muse, should the Xenoblade Chronicles scene pick up come the release of XC3 next month, and I also picked up the courage to write Raphael Kirsten from Fire Emblem: Three Houses—haven’t had him for long but I feel he’s here to stay, because dammit I love one wholesome muscle boy. As for the latter, there’s the Hammerhead Arrancar from a single filler episode of Bleach (who didn’t even have a NAME, mind you) that I created as a joke muse at first until WHOOPS I built upon him, and don’t even get me started on how I fleshed out a bit player Three Houses NPC like Duke Gerth.

All that to say, I tend to either gravitate towards creating OCs of my own because that’s where my muse has historically been highest (ex.: Kōtarō and Forwin), or less appreciated characters who I feel still have so much untapped potential for development and interactions. The bigger the focus on a given character, the less comfortable I feel picking them up as a muse, in part because I don’t feel I would be able to do them justice or world-build as much as I could otherwise, while also living up to expectations others might have for them. Does that make sense?

But for the sake of providing a specific and incredibly on-brand example...

...I raise you one supersonic spiky blue rodent. In case I haven’t alluded to it before, full disclosure: I grew up on Sonic the Hedgehog and I still obsessively consume product featuring the blue blur to this day. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll come around to the idea of fully tackling him as a muse, though that probably won’t be for a long while yet.

—

7. What is one overrated roleplay trend?

Sometimes, I feel we can let aesthetic get in the way of the actual writing? I won’t sit here and vilify those who do value it though, given I do value it as well—it adds a splash of consistency and personality to one’s own blog and really helps it stand out! Not to mention that on occasion, I find myself amazed and only a little envious at those who can take it a step further with custom artwork and icons, an original theme with unique coding, and little bits of flair in the posts themselves. Those who can put in the time and effort for it ought to be commended!

However, the flip-side to it all is it can make approaching these blogs—those with a ton of behind-the-scenes work done—daunting or intimidating for newcomers. We’ve all had humble beginnings on this totally functional website, and not all of us have the otherwise commendable amount of patience, creative energy, and personal investment to overhaul our own blogs from the top down. Case in point: very little of the art, icons, and assets I have here are self-made because I sure as hell am no artist or graphic designer (that being said, said assets are all credited accordingly and used with permission!).

So to those of you who feel they can’t put in all that work and feel those who do might be much, don’t feel guilty about it! These things definitely didn’t happen overnight, so just drop on by and say hi. We won’t bite—or at least we shouldn’t!

—

17. What makes you insecure about your own writing?

Sometimes, I worry whether or not I get a bit too lengthy for my own good? Immediate example: I told myself I would keep my answers to these short, yET LOOK AT ME NOW, SEVERAL PARAGRAPHS LATER AND I’M ONLY ON QUESTION #3. Hell, I try to match my replies in length and stop there, only to find I overshoot that more often than not and as a result, I’d then fear I’m putting too much pressure on a writing partner.

Then there’s how I write: my personal rule is that I try not to make it repetitive or boring for myself to read, but then I would worry about whether I’m laying on too much prose. I feel these are just nothing burgers to worry about at the end of the day, but I worry all the same!

—

18. What is one thing you’d wish to see more in the rp community?

(tagging @icybreaths for the duplicate!)

I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen some wild crossover shenanigans on the dash (and I’m not talking AUs, I mean straight up crossovers from two disparate franchises). It used to be more frequent a few years ago, but these days, interactions I’ve seen have commonly become more self-contained within their own series. I only see two, maybe three mutuals of mine who do so nowadays!

Granted, I haven’t done that much myself either, if at all, but since I mentioned it, it is something I’d like to change soon. For example, Kōtarō does have a Fairy Tail AU that springboards from Bleach’s Thousand Year Blood War arc (I made this for one mutual in mind but she hasn’t been around for a while now). I’m familiar with a ton of different franchises across gaming, cartoons, anime, movies, and what not, so in case anyone’s curious as to what I’d be open to, all you need do is ask!

[everlarkficexchange]

Written by: @alliswell21

Title: One of Us

Prompt 145: She moves in with her aunt and uncle when her parents dies in a small town. After suffering through trama, Katniss slowly starts to get better with the help of her family (aunt, uncle, cousin) and the Mellark brothers. But when things starts happening to her and the people around her, it’s revealed that she and almost everyone in the towns are apart of the werewolf pack and that one of the Mellark brothers is her mate. #werewolves [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rated: G for general audiences.

Tags: Canon Divergent!AU; Modern with a dash of Supernatural; Grief/Mourning; Feeding as a Language of Love.

Note: This is my final submission to this year's EFE challenge! Yay! I really am grateful to @xerxia31 and @javistg for their continued support of this fandom and for hosting once again this event. You are such amazing people, and I’m absolutely honored to be part of a community with people as amazing as you two are! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for keeping EFE alive!

@animekpopxx, thank you too! You feed my muse! And you give me Werewolves!!!!

This story was a bit of rushed job, though, and there’s more of it, I mean... we haven’t seen them turn into wolves yet!!! 🤣 I just didn’t have time to edit the complete fic before the deadline, but if you’d like to read the finished product, keep an eye out for it on AO3. I’m fairly sure the rating will keep, but we will see.

 Kpkpkpk

There’s nothing but the sound of crickets and frogs filling the vast darkness of the night.

It’s another moonless night out here in Panem… or is I like to call it ‘the middle of nowhere’. It’s weird, how dark nights feel here, there’s barely a start peeking tonight, but in a strange way, I like it.

Sitting on my aunt and uncle’s porch to watch the infinite dark ahead while listening to the nocturnal critters it’s about my favorite thing to do… it’s what did used to do when we came here for long summer stays, anyway. He used to say he felt at peace and relaxed, connected with nature. Too bad it took him to be gone, for me to appreciate what he meant by that. So every night I come out here and sit in the steps hugging my knees, staring at nothing but the deep, black night surrounding the cabin, whisking my dad was sitting next to me.

Tonight is different than usual, though. It was raining until recently, and the smell of wet earth is so familiar my chest feels tight and my throat is knotted.

“Petrichor, Katniss,” I mumble the words noiselessly, “is the smell of rain, hun. It smells the same everywhere in the world.”

I lean my chin on my knees, wishing I could go back to feeling numb like when my parents just died. But thinking of the word petrichor, while smelling the thing, is bring forth a plethora feelings and memories I don’t know how to handle.

Dad used to love Scrabble, crossword puzzles and trivia challenges. He tried to get me interested in those games, teaching me words and their meanings, every time he had a chance.

I wish I had been more enthusiastic about learning the darned stuff; it would’ve meant an extra moment spent with Dad, and less regret to feel right now.

An involuntary whine leaves my chest. It hurts to think about it, and not for the first time, I dig my nails into my skin to keep myself rooted in place, and not tear running into the void.

I feel like I’m spiraling out of control, I fear this time something will break in my head and I’ll do something crazy, like scratch my skin away and run wild into the woods, like a beast… but the overwhelming thoughts gets halted when I hear soft noises from out in the distance.

It’s like the crunching of footsteps on the gravel at the mouth of my aunt and uncle’s property. It’s too dark and isolated here, deep into the country. I’ve seen big wildlife roaming around: deer, raccoons, coyotes and even a lynx. But the longer I hear the noises, the more certain I am I’m being stalked by something big and fast.

My heart beats erratically in my chest; every hair in my body stands on point, fear is clawing its way up my chest and into my throat, my eyes feel about to pop from my skull, and then I’m disentangling my knees from my arms, standing up as tall as I can— which isn’t saying much—and then I call into the night, “Who’s there?!”

I hear a faint disturbance of air, and then…

“Good evening, Katniss!”

Slowly, from the shadows, a blonde head pops, eerie for a second. Broad shoulders follow, and then a torso. Before the rest of his body comes visible into the light of the porch, two more blonde heads come into view, flank the first person on either side: Shoulders, torsos, Jean covered legs… The three Mellark brothers make their way leisurely towards me.

I nearly faint from relief after the rush of adrenaline pumping in my veins. Going through so many emotions: grief, sorrow, dread and relief, so fast in such a short amount of time has left me winded and unsteady.

I lose my balance, but one of the boys— Peeta, the youngest— breaks ranks, and rushes to hold me upright.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, helping me sit back down on the porch steps. I lean my head against the main post.

“I’m okay. Just a little lightheaded,” I try not to glare. They gave me a fright, but I doubt they did it on purpose.

It’s something I’ve learn over the years. People in Panem are kind of quirky.

“Sorry we scared you,” Peeta offers, sheepishly. “We wanted to check up on you, and bring you something…” he looks up at his two older brothers and Rye — the middle one— steps forward, holding up a brown, paper bag, with little greasy spots on the sides.

I can guess what’s inside. They’ve been bringing me cheese buns almost daily, since Peeta found out they’re my favorites.

Rey hands the baggie to Peeta, and the latter offers it to me with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” I mumble, gratefully. I can smell the cheesy, yeasty treat through the bag; I can feel the warmth of the buns too! “While I love freshly baked cheese buns, you guys didn’t have to make this trek just to bring me a treat… on a dark, moonless night no less,” I fix them with a glare. “How did you even get here anyway? You couldn’t have walked and I never saw a car coming?”

My aunt and uncle’s cabin is at least 4 miles from town, and surrounded by woods; but then again, most houses in this weird little place are built in similar locations. It seems the townsfolk take their privacy extremely seriously.

“We rode our dirt bikes,” chimes Rye in, cheerily. “Not much light on those bulbs, though, but it’s okay. Our night vision is prime!” He gives me the A-Okay gesture.

“Rye,” the eldest, Bannock, warns lowly. Baring his teeth.

Rye shrugs and slips his hands on his Jean pockets.

I swear Rye hisses something like “it’s true” under his breath, but Peeta has been rubbing my back with the tip of his fingers all this time, and I’m getting drowsy, so I may have imagined the whole exchange.

“You should eat those while they’re still warm,” Peeta murmurs close by my shoulder.

I nod, and open the bag, releasing all the delicious smells of the buns, while Peeta massages my shoulders, encouragingly.

I must be really out if it tonight, because outside of my family, I’ve never been comfortable with people touching me… but, my family is all gone now, and I can’t go through the rest of my life without human touch, can I?

Grief stricken me out of nowhere, and barrels through me. I gasp at the acute pain in my soul at the loss of my parents. But in an instant, I’m enveloped in strong, thick arms, warm and steady. I’m sobbing into a hot, solid chest, covered in the softest cotton I’ve ever felt.

“Shush… I’ve got you, Katniss. I’m here for you,” Peeta whispers soothingly into the crown of my head.

He smells so good; like cinnamon and dill, from the bread he must’ve made this afternoon at his family’s bakery.

It takes a few minutes for me to get a hold of myself, and embarrassedly push out of his embrace, “I’m sorry,” I mumble, mortified.

Bannock presents me with a handkerchief, and I take it gratefully to wipe off my face and nose, before returning the soiled square of fabric to him.

I’m not sure why the Mellark brothers are being so nice to me. I’ve never been around them more than a handful of days over the past few years, when we came to see Dad’s remaining family outside mom and I, his half brother, his wife and their child.

I don’t know the Mellarks all that well, but in the handful of weeks since my parents’ funeral, the three brothers have been incredibly attentive and generous to me. Peeta more than the other two, but I don’t mind… I like him best anyway.

“It’s okay to cry and be devastated, Katniss.” Says Bannock, sagely. “You’re going through the worst time of your life, and we care for you… like family.”

“Oh,” I sit straighter, blowing my nose. I feel a little strange hearing him say that, “thank you? I appreciate your kindness,”

He nods, “Peeta’s right, though. You should eat the cheese buns before they go cold.”

“A full stomach always helps me feel better,” Rye adds, patting his belly, and smiling at me.

My stomach growls, as if to show agreement. I am hungry. I didn’t touch my supper earlier. I pick up the bakery gingerly, and pretty much shove my nose into it. The steam curls out of the baggie, filling my nostrils with the delicious smells. I pluck out a bun and practically inhale it in a second; quickly followed by another one. My third cheese bun, I decide to savor, slowly.

The Mellark siblings just hang around while I devour my treats.

The front door opens just as I’m wiping my hands on my leggings. My aunt’s head peeks out of the door.

“Oh, why hello everyone!” She greets, as bubbly as always. She’s wearing a dark purple wig, to match her dark purple outfit.

“Good evening, Effie,” says Peeta, standing from his squatting position next to me. “We brought Katniss a gift,” he points at the now empty bag in his hand.

“How sweet of you, Peeta!” my aunt gushes, “thank you for checking on our girl, and making sure she’s put something in her tummy before bedtime!”

I roll my eyes. Aunt Effie keeps treating me like a kid. I hate it. I’m 17 and mourning, not a freaking baby!

“It’s no problem at all, Effie! We were just on our way home anyway.”

“Well, it’s always nice having you boys over,” she offers, “but it’s getting late, and Primrose is already in bed, which is why I came out here to begin with, to let Katniss know that her sister was already asleep, so she’d know to tip toe back inside when she was ready to go to bed herself,” my aunt smiles.

I feel a slight pang of guilt; I’ve been wallowing in my own sadness this evening, and missed tucking my sister in to sleep. She’s the only person I’m sure I love, yet tonight I’ve let my own misery drown me.

“Don’t mind us, Effie,” Says Bannock, “We were about to leave…” he pauses and then calls a meaningful, “Peeta?”

“I’m going to wish Katniss a good night, and then we’ll go,” he says.

Not for the first time, I wonder if Peeta has a crush on me? I wouldn’t know he did, even if I wasn’t feeling so rotten inside. I’m not very good at flirting… but with Peeta it is different I think. He’s so nice to me, he’s taken up asking if I’ve eaten that day and if I haven’t, he feeds me something from his family’s bakery without charging me… it’s like he actually cares for me and my well-being, and his brothers care, because he does. It’s mesmerizing at times.

Peeta looks me in the eyes, “Are you ready to go inside?” He asks, offering his two open palms to me. He helps me up from the floor, and then smiles sweetly. He doesn’t let go of my hands while we stand facing each other.

Then something strange happens. Peeta doesn’t blink, as his clear-blue eyes bore into mine, and then his pupils blow out full, until only a ring of deep, glowing azure remains for his irises, “Sleep well, Katniss,” his voice sounds deeper and warmer than usual, “Rest and have a relaxing, dreamless night. Remember what I said: we are all here for you, to help through this hard time… alright?”

I feel groggy, “Yes, Peeta,” I mumble feeling my eyelids getting heavier.

“Oh dear, can you please instruct her to walk herself to bed? She might look lithe, but I promise, her little body is as heavy as any of us,”

Huh? What’s aunt Effie going on about? I don’t understand.

Peeta chuckles, squeezing my hands warmly in his, “You heard Effie… don’t fall asleep until you’ve gone into your bedroom and change into comfy pajamas.”

I nod, “Okay,”

“Good night, Katniss, I’ll be back tomorrow. Try to eat something on your own, I know you’re sad, but you need your strength for when the solstice comes.”

What a weird thing to say! Everything is strange here though… so I nod and march inside the house, mumbling my good nights to everyone and rubbing my very sleepy eyes. Once I’m in my sleep clothes, I lay in bed, and try to ignore the yearning of having Peeta rubbing my back like he was doing while I ate my cheese buns.

I sigh and go to sleep, a weird thought pops into my mind: “I’m so lucky to have such a sweet, caring mate. Peeta Mellark. Can’t wait to be bonded with him,”

[kaleidoscopeminds]

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

main works/series:

Ballet fic ‘verse (41.5k, Mature)

Luke's life is perfectly on track. He is about to get everything he's ever wanted, to become a Principal dancer for the Royal Ballet. He's focused, determined and nothing will get in his way. Then he meets Calum, a smooth-tongued barman with dangerous eyes, and suddenly not everything's so simple.

dream makes the sounds (that carry me so far away) (36.5k, Mature)

Luke's just got to California, on a trip to get away from his life for a while. Calum might be there for the same reason. When a chance meeting pushes them together, Luke might get more out of the four-week road trip than he ever imagined.

i’m not made by design, how can you be satisfied? (21k, Mature)

It gets to about three p.m. and Calum’s seen so many models at this point he thinks his vision is going a bit blurry; and that’s when the next boy “Luke Hemmings” gets let in. He’s stopped pretending to review the portfolios ahead of time on the iPad in front of him, just looking at the models as they come in and making a note whether it’s worth looking at it afterwards.

He kind of wishes he had looked at Luke's before he walked through the door though because he almost swallows his tongue.

A fashion AU

the flatmate arrangement (20k, Mature)

Hi Calum/Poor Struggling Paralegal, So I’ll be upfront with you. It’s a one-bed flat. I also live here. HOWEVER before you delete this and think I’m a freak, I work nights so I wouldn’t be here anytime you would be. You can have the flat exclusively from 6 pm to 8 am, Saturday night and all day Sunday. Understand this sounds like a bit of a crazy arrangement but I could do with the cash, let me know what you think?

Luke Hemmings (Poor Struggling Children’s Nurse)

A 'The Flatshare' AU

talk to me, baby (18k, Explicit)

“Is that why you’ve been looking at me all night?” Luke asks, reaching out and brushing a finger over one of the rips in Calum’s jersey. “Trying to get me alone to sell your services?”

Calum looks delighted that Luke has called him out and it makes Luke smile again.

“Not at all,” Calum says, taking a swig from his drink. “But I was trying to get you alone to offer some other services for free. Interested?”

Luke laughs. “Is that an innuendo?”

“Absolutely, but I can be less subtle.” Calum sips his beer, eyeing Luke. “Wanna fuck?”

meet me in the back under exit lights (17k, Mature)

“Mate, you do know what our job is right?” he asks amusedly. “You’re a writer at an indie music magazine. Just in case you hadn’t realised.” Calum rolls his eyes at Ashton.

“I know,” he says grumpily. “But if Alex makes me interview another one of these boring-as-fuck sad boy singer-songwriters I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

The journalist Calum/musician Luke AU no one asked for

Bakery Cake ‘verse (15k, Teen and Up)

“Bye, Luke,” Calum says. “Maybe see you tomorrow, and... Hope you have a great day too.” His face breaks out into a wider smile that reminds Luke of the feeling of getting just the right consistency for macaron batter, or a perfectly smooth finish on a cake, or the way good puff pastry flakes into the perfect fragments when you cut through a mille-feuille. Or something.

A bakery AU

and what if you’d never smiled at me (15k, Teen and Up)

Calum's really not happy about the new bakery that's just opened up down the road from his own bakery; it's gaudy and pastel and covered in flowers and is an offence to the name of baking. At least he's got a new regular to make him feel better about it all. One with a smile that can turn a day around just like that, even on a Tuesday.

in the places that we met (9k, Mature)

“I think I might be being haunted by a ghost,” is how he greets Michael at the pub that Friday.

“A ghost?” Michael responds suspiciously.

“Yeah and he’s personally haunting me and only me,” Luke says, pulling himself into a booth.

“Sounds frightening,” Michael says mildly.

“He’s also really fit,” Luke says, taking a sip of the pint Michael’s provided him with. “I saw him at the gym today.”

“Sounds sexy and frightening,” Michael says.

you wanna be closer (5k, Teen and Up)

Five times Luke and Calum touch platonically, and once when Calum realises maybe it was never platonic at all.

we're just friends (4k)

“I want to kiss you,” Calum says, voice not above a murmur. Luke’s heart stutters and a blush fills his face as it works overtime pushing his hot blood around his body.

“We shouldn’t,” Luke starts as his hand comes up to grip Calum’s wrist. “We’re friends, we’re just friends.”

drabbles and prompts:

i think i'm getting stuck, i think i'm getting hooked on you (2k, Teen and Up)

it's just a spark, but it's enough (2k, Teen and Up)

main works/series

in a world of black and white (12k, Teen and Up)

“Hey,” Luke says, as close to Ashton’s ear as he can get. Ashton’s head snaps up immediately and his hazel eyes behind his tortoiseshell glasses flick towards him, wide in surprise. Ashton’s eyes are a conundrum to Luke, sometimes gleaming warm amber with flecks of deeper mahogany, sometimes sparkling emerald and viridescent, and sometimes somewhere between the two, glinting and swirling with a golden green. Luke could spend weeks trying to solve the enigma of Ashton’s eyes, and thinks that he might be happy to.

if you dance with me darling, if you take me home... will we talk in the morning? (4k, Teen and Up)

Luke is drunk, but nicely so, he thinks, everything slightly softer around the edges, lights a little brighter and laughs a little louder. Everyone and everything in the world would be slightly better if they were this level of tipsy all the time, he muses to himself as he waits for his drinks, leaning his chin in his hand on the bar where he’s wedged himself between two other people that were definitely waiting before him, but don’t have Luke’s height or smile.

put on your dancing shoes, there’s one thing on your mind (2k, Teen and Up)

Luke squeaks and grabs Ashton’s wrist, bouncing on his toes as excitement flows through him, his heart rate picking up as he feels the crowd shift and pulse with anticipation, voices of enthusiasm and shouts beginning to ripple across the sea of people. The lights begin to flash and Luke can feel the energy thrum through the air.

sad luke ‘verse (2k)

Luke flexes his fingers around his glass and tips his head back to look at the ceiling, letting the lights flash around him, burning his eyes as he forces himself to keep them open, but he still feels like they’re not as bright as he wants them to be, not bright enough to sting as much as he yearns for them to.

Will someone tell me who I was before? (500, Teen and Up)

When I close my eyes and try to sleep I fall apart, I find it hard to breathe (500, Teen and Up)

Looking on, as all of life's colours seem to fade (1k, Teen and Up)

drabbles and prompts:

you light up my whole heart, it feels like the sun (1k, Teen and Up)

i don't wanna be wasting my time alone (2k, General Audiences)

pressed against the wall just watching your every move (1.5k, General Audiences

misc works and drabbles

fingertips on me, i can feel them still - malum (2k, Teen and Up))

The lady on the phone had offered him a new guy, and even though he was wary, he knew he couldn’t put off getting his hair cut any longer. That didn’t account for the new guy being the fucking prettiest man he’s ever set eyes upon, mask and all, and if Calum didn’t want to take his hat off before, he definitely doesn’t now.

some invisible string tying you to me - ot4 (1.5k)

That’s the thing about the four of them, they say they can’t really pinpoint exactly how it happened. How it became the four of them in every single iteration of the words, wrapped and tied together securely, looping in and out and around them all.

misc tumblr prompt ficlets

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - Chapter 2

I think I will be brave as well and post chapter 2.

In the chapter when Rowan muses about his call sign he uses the term FNG - it literally mean Fucking new guy. In US military it describes a newcomer.

Enjoy the chapter!

--------

The next morning Rowan was on his way to the fire station. He had left the house a bit early to allow for traffic or getting lost. In the end he had arrived with ten minutes to spare. He parked the car along the road and walked to the main area in front of the station and stopped. 

The tall training building was on fire and a few people were outside in front of it as if in waiting. He searched for the captain but she was not there. He wanted to go and ask to the team about her whereabouts but did not want to interrupt the training session. So he just decided to lean against a wall of the fire station, arms folded at his chest and just watch the drill. 

He was curious about why they were not using the truck or water and wondered if they were following a specific exercise.

Being a fighter pilot was full of risks but by looking at the raging fire and thinking that there were people willingly putting themselves through that inferno made him shiver. He’d rather been strapped in a metal cage than in a house on fire.

All of a sudden a figure ran out of the building carrying what looked like a dummy and two more followed.  He gasped when he recognised the captain. The dummy she was carrying on her shoulders must have weighed a ton and he was impressed. He followed her, dumping the dummy on the ground and joining the tall blonde man and pat him on the shoulder looking happy. His lips turned up in a hint of a smile.

Her eyes met his and she gave him a huge smile and Rowan straightened up and pulled away from the wall. She walked to him while unbuttoning her bulky fireproof jacket.

“Morning Captain,” she brushed her hair away from her face and Rowan’s heart started to race.

“Enjoyed the show?”

He cleared his voice while he tried to gain some sense again “That was fascinating.”

“Can you give me twenty minutes to have a very quick shower and get changed? You don’t want to be in a meeting with a stinky woman.”

Captain Whitethorn nodded “Take your time.”

“You can go and meet the guys. They are a friendly bunch.” She offered “just ignore the lewd jokes.”

“Thank you for the head’s up.”

Aelin ran away and he gathered some courage and walked to the team. He was not the best around people he did not know, but he wanted to play nice.

He took another step and the tall blond man noticed him and walked with purpose toward him and offered him his hand “Captain Whitethorn isn’t it?”

Rowan nodded.

“Aelin told us you were coming. I am Lieutenant Ashryver.”

Rowan nodded and studied the man in front of him and noticed that his posture and attitude screamed military. After he had spent all his adult life in the force he had gotten used to spot one of them. He had the same feeling at the base during the fire. 

“Can I introduce you to our team?”

“Gladly.”

Aedion turned to the red-haired woman “Ladies first. This is Ansel. Never leave her and Aelin alone because then you are in trouble.”

“Hey, I’ll tell her you said that and she will put you on truck cleaning duties for a month.” Aedion ignored her and continued “then here we have Brullo, Nox, Ress, Ren and finally Luca.” He grabbed the young man’s shoulder “he is our probie. He finished the academy and he joined us a few months ago. For now he is coming to the less serious calls but we are planning on coddling him a bit less and make him see the real stuff as well.”

Then the man turned around, scanning the area in search for something or someone “we also have two EMTs, Elide and Lysandra but they must be around the station doing something. You will meet them anyway.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Everyone, clean up and don’t leave everything to Luca. All of you haul ass. Nox, Ren you are on equipment duty. Ansel, Ress you two are on uniform checks. Brullo, take Luca with you and go over him some truck procedures for before and after calls. Now away all of you.”

Rowan chuckled. The man was definitely ex military. 

“Where did you serve?” He asked the man taking a chance.

“I was in the army. I was an artillery specialist. Once I retired Aelin called me saying her station was looking for recruits and I applied for the job. Guess my experience with explosives and such was a plus. Many years later I am still here and still loving it.” Then he studied the Captain “how did you guess?”

“Your posture. It’s the stick up your arse, as Captain Galathynius would say, that gets drilled into you from day one. The way you give order, again, very familiar.”

“Call her Aelin, Cap or Captain. She hates being called Captain Galathynius.”

Rowan raised a eyebrow with curiosity for that statement.

“I usually call her brat or menace.” Aedion chuckled “she is my cousin. I have known her since we were little. I have earned that privilege.”

Aedion started walking back into the station and Captain Whitethorn followed him.

“She has the bas habit of not filtering what she wants to say, can be brash and very vocal when she is mad at something or someone, but she loves her job and her team. She loves being a firefighter. She might be young be she is extremely capable. She is the first female captain. Absurd to think that before her it was just a boy’s club, eh?” The man joked, and lead him into a big spacious room with a lone table and chair and a kitchen at the bottom of it “If she keeps likes this I can see her climbing up the ladder pretty quickly, although I cannot imagine her in a desk job.”

Rowan knew very little about the woman but he had the same feeling.

“This is where we spend most of the time when we are on shift, all tasks are done and just wait for a call. We have books, video-games, tv… you name it. And like all families we fight for who controls the remote.”

Aelin joined them a moment later “Are you giving our Captain the tour?”

“Yes, just the cheap tour for now. You can give him the proper one later.” Aedion winked at her.

“I guess that after our meeting, the Captain will be more than happy to get rid of me.

“I gave you a tour of the base, I would love a tour of the station.”

Aelin’s mouth almost fell open in disbelief.

“If you are not fed up with me we can think about it.” And she turned around and walked away the same way he did the day before. 

Aedion gestured with his head to follow her and Rowan ran after her.

“I am sorry for the delay. Once I got back to work yesterday I had an email saying that our annual performance review is due in three weeks. I did not have a way to contact you otherwise I would have pushed the meeting forward a bit.”

“It was actually interesting watching you guys train.” He followed her to her office and took the seat she offered “we have performance reviews as well. What do you guys have to do?”

Aelin was caught off guard by him being talkative all of a sudden “We get tested on our abilities. We usually go to the academy, are given a scenario and the whole team has to work as if that was a real call. We also get to perform some individual tasks and those are timed. It’s a very stressful period.”

“You can leave our project to me until you are done with your review. I am happy to give you an update and you can come once a week to check how things are progressing if you are too busy.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Captain?” She smiled at him, leaning back in her chair.

He shook his head and she noticed him finally relaxing and sitting more comfortably in his chair “we have those review as well and they are always stressful for the team and I am aware how much of my time, preparing drills takes me. I am offering you to concentrate on your mission ahead for now and then catch up in three weeks.”

Was he actually being nice to her?

“I will be fine captain, but thank you for the offer. I appreciate it.”

“If you change your mind, my offer will still be on the table.”

“So,” she said quite abruptly changing the subject. If he even thought she needed his help because she was a woman he was in for a tough ride.

Aelin grabbed a folder with her plan. She had spent the entire previous day working on it. “These are the copies for you.” And she passed him a pile of papers “they are the ideas and changes I would like to suggest. I believe that is the part you will have to discuss with your CO. the biggest and probably most time consuming change is the extra door. All the other suggestions are repairs and perhaps replacements of old parts. I would like to explain again that these changes are not up for discussion. They need to happen.”

Captain Whitethorn nodded “I have discussed the matter with my CO after our meeting and he understands that and agrees. He promised me that he will fight until the last ditch if they start blocking him with budget bullshit, his exact words.”

“Please tell Air Commodore Salvaterre that I appreciate his cooperation. It goes in the interest of every single person who works at the base. Him included.”

“This pile here is a draft of possible training sessions for both your squadron and the ground crew. I want basic fire prevention training, fire extinguisher training, reviews of fire drills. I would like to do some training, especially with the ground crew on fuels handling, fuel storing and clearing spillages. Your squadron will be welcome as well. I think it will benefit everyone.” She flipped through her notes “I would like to nominate a couple of people as Fire champions or any other name we can come up with. Their role would be to perform monthly deep inspections and weekly spot checks. The idea is that by doing this, you are always on the ball with any problems. Of course we will provide training on how to do all this.” She kept explaining and the man in front of her listened to her with great interest, never interrupting her. 

“Needless to say that fire prevention is everyone’s job. See it, report it. And if you can, fix it.” She jotted down a few things “of course all of this depends on our rosters. I don’t know how it works for you guys but we work in shift patterns.”

“My squadron and I, we work Monday to Friday when we are ground-side. Ground staff such as engineers for example, they tend to follow shift patterns as well. I can talk to the supervisors for the mechanics and engineering team and see if I can get a roster from them. They are aware of the fact that extra training is on its way.”

“Please do. I have a feeling that will be the biggest job.”

“Do you have any questions for me so far?”

“Which venue will we use?”

Aelin tapped her pen on the table “I was thinking here if it’s okay with you. We have the equipment, also we don’t have maximum security checks.”

“Speaking of security…” he extracted something from his pocket “`I have your badge.”

Aelin took the badge he offered in surprise.

“I imagine we will be working together quite a lot and you will need to visit the base as well on a regular basis. You have now the badge with consultant clearance. It’s not a lot, but it will grant you access to all the are you will need. And no more forms to fill.”

“Thank you, captain,” she was speechless “Thank you for trusting me.”

She smiled fondly at him and Rowan realised he’d do literally anything to see that smile. It was intoxicating.

They worked for a few hours and Aelin realised it was not as bad as she had feared. The captain had been very keen to listen to her plans and making suggestions according to his knowledge of the base and his team. He had also looked a bit less uncomfortable and more willing to have a full conversation instead of monosyllables. At least it was progress and since it looked like they were going to work together for a while it was a good thing. 

When her stomach grumbled loudly she coughed embarrassed to try and cover it but the very faint hint of a grin on the captain’s lips told her that he had head her.

“We can stop for lunch, captain.”

Aelin almost blushed “I guess so. I think I have a black hole forming in my stomach. Those drills always leave me famished.” She stood “there is a lovely diner very nearby. Can I interest you in lunch? It’s on me. But no shop talk.” She was ready for a refusal but the captain stood and nodded.

“I’d like lunch.”

When they left the office they met Elide and Lysandra carrying boxes full of supplies to stock the ambulance. As soon as Rowan noticed he jumped forward and offered to help Elide.

“Let me carry them. They are quite bulky.”

“Thank you,” said the woman flashing a smile to Aelin then showed the captain the direction to the ambulance.

“Where do I place it?” He asked once they were arrived. Elide opened the back door of the vehicle “just here. Lys and I will sort through everything. Thank for the help.”

Lysandra dropped all her stuff and turned to the two captains.

“These are Lysandra and Elide, they are our two resident EMTs.”

“Ladies, this is captain Whitethorn.”

Lysandra mouthed hot to Aelin and the woman rolled her eyes. 

“The captain and I were going for lunch. Could you please tell Aedion to man the fort for me while I am away? I am just going to Emrys and I have a radio with me if anything happens.”

The woman nodded “I know the drill. Go, enjoy lunch.”

The two captains left “we are walking. The place is just down the road. We are all regulars there.”

Five minutes later they reached the small diner and Rowan thought the place looked cosy and felt like the good old fashioned family run restaurant.

“Emrys and his husband Malakai have been running this place since forever. It’s an institution in the neighbourhood.”

“Aelin, my girl.” A very smiling Emrys walked from behind the counter and went to hug the woman “Are you keeping well?”

“Of course.”

“Two today?” He asked looking at the Aelin’s companion.

“Yes please. Can we sit anywhere?”

“Go ahead.” He gestured pointing at the tables.

“Quiet today?”

“Not at all. You just missed the rush. Until twenty minutes ago we were full. Malkai is delivering an order to the police station.”

Aelin walked to the table near the window and invited Rowan to join her.

“Here’s the menu for your friend. Let me know when you are ready to order.”

Rowan took the menu, opened it and lowered his head to start reading it.

Aelin studied him for a moment while he was distracted. Stared at his hands and noticed the hint of a tattoo sneaking from underneath the uniform. Interesting, she would have never pinned the man as someone who would have a tattoo. A smile tugged at her lips. A part of her wanted quite badly to get to know him a bit more. “Your hair,” she asked “has it always been silver or it became like that with age?” Then she stopped embarrassed “I mean I am not saying that you look old. I just meant as if it got like that as you grew up.”

He lifted his head from the menu and his piercing green eyes settled on her “I was born like this. Apparently it runs in my family.”

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious.”

He gave her a half a smile. It did not linger. It was quick and for a second she thought she had imagined it “I am used to it.” He tapped on the plastic menu “you haven’t decided yet?”

“Oh no, I don’t need a menu. I know it by heart and I know what I want.”

Emrys came back and both placed their orders and Aelin enjoyed the shocked expression on the captain.

“You can’t possibly eat all that stuff.”

“Watch me.”

The silence grew uncomfortable again. It looked as if he was chatty only when it came to work.

“Why did you join the airforce?”

For a moment he looked stunned at her question “I was eighteen and fresh out of high school. Happy I was done studying. My parents wanted me to go to uni, but the idea of spending four more years on books was not for me.” He explained and noticed she had he hands folded under her chin “One day I met Lorcan. We knew each other from before already, being both from Wendlyn and all. It was nice to see a friendly face in a new place. Anyway, he told me he had moved here to Terrasen with the TAF. He told me they were recruiting and I went to the base during an open day. The day after I had signed up and a month later I was starting pilot academy.”

“Where in Wendlyn?”

“Doranelle.”

“I was there once. On holiday with…” no, not time yet “with a friend. We loved it very much.”

He nodded “It’s a nice place, but I must admit that after so many years I feel like an adopted citizen of Terrasen. Orynth is quite a gorgeous place.”

Emrys came with their food and Rowan noticed how skilfully placed all the plates on the table. As if he was used to have all those orders from her.

“You can’t be serious and actually eat all this food.”

Aelin tackled her first plate “watch the pro at work, captain.” She gave him a smile and Rowan shook his head and tackled his food.

“Why firefighter?”

He noticed her still for a second and the happiness wash away from her face in an instant. Fuck. Wrong question already.

“I was eight.” She said playing with her food for a moment “I was out playing with some of my friends. I was on my way home when I saw two massive fire trucks in front of my house and my home on fire.” She placed the fork on the plate “I ran toward the house but this fireman stopped me. I was crying and calling for my parents. He hugged me, he told me they were working to try and save my parents. I remember trashing in his arms to get free but he held me tight.” She took a bit to keep herself busy while telling the story “he took me to the back of the engine and showed me some of the tools and explained to me how the engine worked. He distracted me while his colleagues worked to stop the fire and save my parents.” She finally met his gaze “it took them almost two hours to kill the fire. After that there was nothing left of the house and of my life. My parents had been found dead in the house. The gas boiler has suffered a fault and basically exploded. They stood no chance.”

“Aelin I am…” his hand moved slowly closer to hers and brushed it gently “I am so sorry.”

“When I grew up I decided I wanted to be like the firemen who attended my fire. I wanted to rush into a house on fire and try to save some person’s parents of spouse and help them avoid the loss I suffered. I wanted to be like the man who stood with me and distracted me.”

Her finger lifted a little and met his almost in acknowledgement “Aedion’s family took me in. As soon as I finished high school I was like you. I had no interest in uni. So I signed up for the fire academy.”

“Sorry for ruining lunch.”

She shook her head and flicked his finger playfully. That had been the first contact between them. He had always kept his distance and that little flicker of affection made he heart flutter. The man was a puzzle. He could go from stone cold bastard to this in a small amount of time.

Aelin finished her food and noticed the captain staring at her with curiosity.

“I cannot believe it.”

“Told you,” she smiled at him with a smug expression “and I am even going to get cake.”

“No you are not.”

In defiance she stood and went to the counter and ordered chocolate hazelnut cake from Emrys. She came back and sat down again and ate the whole slice.

“Remind me to apply for a mortgage if I ever take you out for dinner.” At those words Rowan froze. He did not mean to do say that. It was supposed to be a joke but he should have learned by now that he was bad at making jokes.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Iceman.”

His head shoot up and looked at her. She had used his callsign. Something that only his squadron members would ever use. They all had one. It was a tradition. But it also meant something. It was always the other pilots in the team who choose the callsign. Never the pilot himself. It was a rite of passage that welcome you in the squadron. In a family. He got his one because of his hair. Everyone thought it was because he was cool and calm under pressure but no. When he was still one of the FNG he went through his naming ceremony like all the others FNG and they had decided he was going to be iceman because with his hair he reminded them of a creature from the snowy glaciers of the Staghorn mountains, hence iceman. Hearing her calling him like that made his heart skip a beat.

“We don’t have call signs. We got nicknames but nothing official like you guys.” She polished the plate from the chocolate left from the cake “the guys usually call me Captain or Cap. Aedion is the worst. Because he is my cousin he takes the liberty to call me brat or menace. I should really write him up for insubordination.”

She tapped his hand “come on grampa, let’s get back to work.” And stood. Rowan had wanted to grab that hand and hold it for a moment. It felt as if a small shift had happened in their weird work relationship.

Aelin paid for the meal as promised and they walked back to the station “are you sure you will be able to concentrate with all that food in you?”

On the way back Aelin looked up at the sky and noticed a few flakes that had started to follow. “Looks like it’s going to snow.”

She turned her head and caught Rowan sniffing the air, the eyes closed and a relaxed expression. The hard lines of his face had disappeared and the faint smile on his lips changed him completely. Yes, the man was hot but there was more to it. The very rare times that his face softened his eyes lit up as well turning a deeper green and made him stunning. She had a feeling those moments were rare and was glad that she had caught at least a couple. Like right now, his body relaxed enjoying the first flakes of snow. That was a precious insight in the man at her side.

“You like winter?” She broke the magic.

His eyes snapped open and his face turned hard again as if he hated being caught enjoying something.

“I do.” He said softly “I love the snow and winters in Terrasen are incredible.

Aelin smiled. His scent. His scent reminded her of Terrasen. Pine and snow. She had smelled it the other day while she was inside his plane and he was quite close to her. He smelled like winter and realised for a second that the nickname Iceman was perfect as well for that reason and not just because he could be a cold hearted bastard. They got back to the station and she found it quiet apart from Brullo and Luca near the fire engine. Apparently the man was explaining the youngster some of the routine checks they performed. He was their resident engineer and mechanic so he was the best one for that type of training.

“Nice lunch, Cap? Did you eat all the food at Emrys?”

“The vegetables are still there. They are safe.” Aelin turned when noticed that the joke came from Rowan.

Brullo and Luca burst out laughing “oh he is good.” Added the older man.

“My eating habits are the joke of the station.”

“Cap, they are insane.” Added Luca.

Aelin turned to Rowan and he lifted and eyebrow as if to say I agree with them.

She turned again on her colleagues “one more joke from the two of you and I’ll have you scrub the station from top to bottom with a toothbrush.” Then she turned on her feet and walked away to her office. 

Rowan tapped his hat in salute to the two men and followed her. He found her in the kitchen making coffee “Do you drink coffee?”

“I don’t think I could function without it.”

“Good. We basically drink it by the litre. It keeps you alive on a night shifts.”

She made some coffee and offered him a mug “milk, sugar?”

“Black, thank you.”

He watched her as she dropped two spoonfuls of sugar in it “All this sugar is not good for you.”

“Shhh you heathen.”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee “Thank you for lunch by the way.”

“My treat, for working with me.” She apologised, while leaning against the counter and drinking her coffee.

“You are not as bad as I thought. I agree with Aedion, you are a brat and a menace but I can work with that.” Bad idea. Rowan noticed anger flash in her eyes.

“I am not having you calling me that.” She slammed the cup on the counter “you barely know me and I have been professional, sure if cracking a joke or two makes me a brat it’s your problem you need sense of humour. I have been busting my ass to fix the shit that went down in your station.” She took a step toward him and Rowan braced himself “I know how I run my station. I am aware of every single problem or fault that happens here. Your fucking hangar went down in a blaze of glory and you had no idea of the shitstorm about to happen.” She was now a few mere centimetres from his face and a foolish part of him wanted to push her against the counter and kiss her senseless. She was mad at him and all he thought was how her lips would feel. What was wrong with him?

“Don’t ever call me that again with that smug face of your because I have no problems removing that smirk with a punch.”

Rowan kept staring at her in silence, not risking saying a word while she was that mad at him. Damn the woman had fire in her. And it did not matter he was getting a well deserved lashing down from her, he could not stop thinking that she was beautiful. Not just physically, she was fierce, brave and passionate and he was irremediably drawn to her.

Which it was totally crazy since they had met the day before.

“Now get the fuck out of my station. We are done for today.” And she stepped back.

“Captain, I did not mean to offend you.”

“I said out.” She repeated through gritted teeth “I have your contact. I will let you know when I am in the mood to meet you again.” She grabbed her coffee and walked away from him.

Rowan stood still and stared at the spot where she had been. He ran a hand through his hair and cursed himself for his stupidity. They had finally set aside the bad start they had, and messed up everything again.

He picked up his cap on the counter and then realised he had left all the documents in her office. He was about to walk to her but then changed his mind bad idea. So he just left the station, got back to his car and drove back to the base.

Aelin was furious. Why did he have to go and ruin everything with his bloody mouth of his?

That beautiful mouth of his.

She paced the office for ten minutes then she left, went to changing room and changed into her training gear. Some exercise will do her good to clear her head.

Aedion found her twenty minutes later “here you are,” he shouted as she ran back and forth in the yard with a dummy on her shoulders.

“Aelin!” He shouted when she did not stop. When she ignored him again he went in front of her and stopped her “Aelin.”

“What?” She growled dropping the dummy on the ground with a loud thump. She was breathless.

“I thought you were with the captain.”

She ignored him and grabbed the dummy again but Aedion stopped her and grabbed her hand “did something happened?”

“Yes, he happened. He is an arsehole and I don’t know why I am bothering to help him.”

“Because it’s your job.”

“Well, he can go and ask west station for all I care.”

Aedion shook his head “they are in our territory.”

Aelin ran a hand through her hair.

“Did he do something to you? Because if he did I am very good at hand to hand combat. I’ll destroy his stiff arse.”

Aelin chuckled. Aedion had always been very protective with her.

“He called me a brat and a menace. He said that I am not as bad as he thought and that he agrees with you for my nicknames.”

Aedion laughed “that’s why you are mad at him? Ace, I love you but you can be both.”

She sat down on the dummy “I know. But if you say it it doesn’t bother me. We grew up together. You know me better than anyone. He instead…” she punched the dummy’s face “he had this smug face and he used this tone like a condescending prick.”

She groaned “you can be a brat and a menace but I can work with it,” she repeated in a mocking tone “I am the one doing him a favour to help him. Idiot.”

“You just want to find an excuse to hate him and push him away from you.” He sat down on the dummy beside her “Ace, could it be that you like him but you are still too scared to allow another man in your life?”

“No. I have known the guy for two days. And no, I do not like him.” She protested.

“Would it be that bad?”

Aelin stood and faced him “I am not interested in getting any closer to him than what works dictates. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.

“You are overreacting and you are behaving like a brat and proving him right.”

She pushed him off the dummy “you are on truck duty for the whole week.” Aelin grabbed the dummy and went back to her training.

Rowan finally made it back to the base and went straight to his office but Lorcan intercepted him.

“You are back early. I thought you were going to be at the station all afternoon.”

Rowan ignored his CO and plopped on his chair and closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“That bad, eh?” Joked Lorcan at the man’s reaction.

“I opened my damn mouth. That’s what I did.”

Lorcan sat on the chair on the opposite side of the desk “What did you do? I thought you were the guy who counted till ten before opening his mouth. That’s why I gave you this assignment. I need this to go smoothly and fix all the shit that the old CO messed up. If I wanted to piss off the TFD’s captain I would have sent Moonbeam.”

Rowan snorted “probably would have been better. Far more charming than this cranky old bastard.”

“I have seen the woman. Fenrys would end up fucking everything. Literally.”

Lorcan sat back relaxed “I am coming to the station tomorrow and I will talk to her and bring her back into our good books.”

“You?” Rowan scoffed “if there is someone who has a worse temper than me is you, Lorcan.”

“I’ll be my charming self.” The man joked.

“The gods save us all.” Rowan joked standing and pacing the office “trying to scare her will not work either.”

“I noticed that. I wish some of our men would have that level of balls. Quite amazing for a woman.” Rowan’s head snapped at his CO’s words.

“Don’t even dare say anything like that in her face or you are a dead man.”

He and Lorcan would go along on most of the days but on some concepts, Lorcan still followed the good old fashioned ideas that for example females were not suited for the military, a topic they had many fights on. Rowan had tried to open up the ranks to a few more females in the squadron but Lorcan had rejected the idea every single time.

“You know how I feel about those things.”

“Yes, our very progressive man. Equality and all.”

“You can be such an arsehole.” Rowan stopped at the window “even the Navy is accepting women. Their recruitment for female officers is up by 40%. We are still to celebrate when we will have our first female officer.”

Lorcan growled “well, then move to the Navy.” He stood annoyed “flying a jet is not like service on an aircraft carrier!”

Rowan turned furious “you are not seriously telling me that you don’t believe a woman could fly a jet.” He slammed his fist on the table “I have seen Aelin in action and during drills. I have seen her jump into a building on fire without any second thought to save one of our men. I have seen her drag a dummy twice her size off a burning building while wearing the fire suit and an oxygen tank on her shoulder. She could probably do a vertical, pull 9G and then get off the plane and have a dance in our face. She is definitely not the fragile thing you think she is just because she is a woman.”

“What is your point?”

“Stop being a misogynist prick.”

Rowan phone went off and Lorcan moved away “if you are coming tomorrow, you leave that attitude behind.” Lorcan left and Rowan took the call. Once he was done he sat back down on his chair and looked outside noticing the snow falling and a gentle smile tugged his lips at the memory of the moment they had shared at the restaurant. He had to apologise. And quickly.

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