#and set boundaries and put your foot down about certain things your friends will still love you if you have boundaries | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purplellamanator · 3 years ago

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So, I'm sorry I don't really know what to call this and did not give it a name- but, this is a product heavily inspired by these head-canon's created and posted by @detectivegeekshin! Please check them out if you haven't already! (if you're following me though you probably already did :D) This is insanely long though and I hope ya'll like it! Sorry @detectivegeekshin that it took me so long! I've been working on this for more than two months I think- so again, sorry!!! Thank you for allowing me to use your ideas to make, what was supposed to be a drabble, story and I hope I did your head-canon's justice! Please excuse my grammar mistakes! I tried my best to clean it up! Thank you again!

Read below the cut for the story :)

Stealing wasn't exactly the word he wanted to use. He didn't consider himself to be a thief. Was it really even stealing if he was taking it from someone it didn't actually belong to? Shinichi didn't think so.

And it wasn't about giving the wealth back to the poor. He wouldn't necessarily call himself Robin Hood either. It was about returning something to its rightful place; to the rightful owner.

It was wrong. All of it. It went against the very morals he himself created to follow when he first decided he'd be the greatest detective of the era. Stealing was wrong no matter if it was stealing something that was already stolen. It was the law and if the law was followed, then it would work out correctly in the end either way.

But that way of thinking wasn't always true. He realized that the longer he worked in this business and the more experience he gathered. It would be a nice world to live in when the law could fix everything. And unfortunately he wasn't naïve enough to actually believe that world existed anymore.

The first time he did it, it had gone against every fiber of his being. The mental crisis he thrusted his entire being into had sidelined him for weeks. So ashamed, Shinichi couldn't bring himself to work on another case. What right did he have? To expose criminals for killing? For kidnapping? For stealing?

He had no right. He was no better than those criminals. Because that was what he was now- a criminal.

The stress and just anxiety that this put him under- Shinichi considered dropping his dream of being a detective. His morals and guilt had been tearing him apart inside.

Until he turned on the news and remembered why he did what he did.

A woman was crying. They were tears of joy and happiness. And she was thankful. Thankful that the heirloom that had gone missing for decades had miraculously found its place back on her dresser. That she had no idea who or how it happened but she was grateful to whomever had given her this.

And that was when Shinichi was reminded of what finally pushed him to this. What made him crack.

He was a detective and he had done his job. He found the precious necklace that had eluded every private eye hired before him. He located it and all they had to do was retrieve it and return it back where it belonged.

But the police couldn't. They needed warrants and that took time. Time they did not have enough of. It would be sold once more on the black market and disappear likely for another decade before they were even served.

The adrenaline that had coursed through him when he finally decided what he would do. He had never felt more satisfied. There had been no disguises; no gimmicks. Just himself. His own face and his own brain. And they still hadn't caught him. It had been easy. So much easier than waiting on the courts.

After that day he saw the news, Shinichi had walked with his head held higher than any other day. He didn't know why exactly. It wasn't like anybody else besides him knew what he had done. No one but him was aware that the woman got that necklace back because of his own actions. Yet hearing people congratulate and whisper about how amazing the mystery was made him smug.

Shinichi told himself it would be a one time thing. Seeing that woman from before distraught and sobbing that her family's prized possession would likely never be returned in her lifetime- it had done something to him. It made him act. Even though he usually did so well detaching himself emotionally from his cases, that one alone had gotten to him. But he'd do better next time. Even if the outcome would be bittersweet and leave him feeling like he failed, he could not do it again. No matter who the victim was or if they cried.

But he didn't stick to that clearly because he did it again a month later, and then soon after that, and again after that.

His excuse each time- he had done so well not getting caught before. What could it hurt to do it again? It was easier. It was faster. With his genius he was sure he would get away with it no matter how many times he tried this. He couldn't be caught. He couldn't be beat. He was just too . . good at it.

Until he wasn't.

He had gotten too cocky; too arrogant. He should've stopped while he was ahead. He had gotten away with it so many times and yet he kept pushing it. And he pushed the boundaries each time. He got more and more careless than the last. And now he was stuck explaining to the last person he ever wanted to find out, why he was parading around as some law abiding detective when he was really a thief.

In the midst of his newly found hobby, Ran- one of his best friends, had realized he was not acting the same as usual. Shinichi didn't allow her to join him to certain cases anymore. He would be secretive about where he was going afterwards as well as if she had somehow already been there, he had even told her to straight up leave.

He should've known that Ran would notice something sooner. It wasn't like him to ever hide things from her and it definitely was not normal for him to tell her to leave a crime scene- unless it was a rather dangerous one. Cases that had to do with robbery didn't normally fall under that. Those were the cases he'd usually rather her witness. She didn't like anything with too much gore and like any normal person, she got scared if she even saw a corpse.

But each time he told her to leave or that she shouldn't follow him. Most of the time he did lie and say it was because he worried it would turn violent. Other times he didn't give a reason. And he definitely should've noticed her suspicion because he normally loved having her witness his cases and deductions. He liked impressing her.

Unfortunately, he didn't notice in time that he was actually worrying her. His sudden change was concerning to her and she ended up following him when he said the Inspector had called and asked for him to come by the station.

Shinichi never went to the station. There had never been a call. Instead, donning his change of clothes, he took a train almost a full hour out till he reached his actual destination.

When he said he had started pushing the boundaries, he had meant it. No longer did his thefts remain with cases within the Japanese Police. He started digging for unresolved cases in the black markets.

The entire time Ran had been tailing him. She had followed him the entire way and he hadn't noticed a single thing, which he didn't know if he should be annoyed by or impressed.

When he had almost been shot however and Ran's foot suddenly came down on the guards head, he settled on being impressed. Because though he was furious she had followed him into such a dangerous underground location, she had saved his ass. And it didn't help that Ran was aware of that fact.

She hadn't pressured him for an explanation. Shinichi thought she would yell at him and demand to know what he was doing and why. Ran hadn't done any of that. Instead, she took it upon herself to be his lookout as he finished what he originally set out to do.

Ran kept her thoughts to herself at first. It had made him nervous considering he was expecting her anger. When he hadn't gotten it, he didn't know what to expect now. Her moral compass was just as strong as his had been. When she realized what he was doing- and she definitely already had, he could only assume it'd upset her. Why wouldn't it? At this point he was no better than-

"Are you Kaito Kid?"

Kaito Kid. Obviously he knew who she was talking about. And it was actually insulting and ticked him off.

What he did took more skill. He wasn't some magic freak with a couple fog machines and pet doves. He had no disguise. If Shinichi wanted something, he walked in there and took it. With his own face.

With a stony expression, he denied the accusation. As far as he was concerned, he always thought of the Phantom Thief as, exactly that, a thief. Truthfully, he hadn't run into the magician too much after his new found discovery. And at the thought he realized that it must mean Kid wasn't after just any treasure. He must've been looking for something in particular which reminded him that he didn't know the guy's actual motive behind his crimes. Maybe like him, he realized, Kid might have a valid reason for turning to crime.

When he started sympathizing with a criminal however he noticed how far in his own crimes he actually was.

Ran took his denial in stride. She didn't seem all that surprised by his response. She clearly didn't actually think he was the Phantom Thief. But oddly enough, she didn't really ask for an explanation. If he wasn't doing this as Kid, then why was he doing it? She didn't claim to want to know.

Oddly enough, that annoyed him as well. It should be a good thing she wasn't drilling him for answers. She was just accepting what he was doing and not going to stop him.

"You're that vigilante thief they're talking about all over the news. . . aren't you? The Night Baron?"

Night Baron? Out of all the things, that's what they decided to go with? And though it was exactly what he was, the word vigilante left a bad taste in his mouth.

This accusation was different however. Unlike the Phantom Thief one, she uttered this one with confidence. If he denied this, Ran would not believe him. There was no point in trying anyway when she had literally caught him in the act.

It took him aback a little that she had caught on so easily. The Night Baron wasn't as common in the news. He hadn't been doing this nearly as long as the other well known thief. It made him question if she'd been contemplating this for awhile. How long had she suspected him? And how could she not say this without any ounce of anger?

"Well. . . I have faith in you, Shinichi," she finally said when he asked. "I know you and I know you wouldn't be doing this unless you had a good reason or you thought it was right."

"And what you're doing is right. The Night Baron helps people."

The amount of trust she put in his character made him feel warm inside. It was embarrassing but that sentiment made the corners of his eyes almost prickle. Shinichi hadn't realized how desperately he had wanted to hear those words. He thought he had come to terms with his guilt. But clearly he had not if hearing Ran say that almost made him get choked up.

Ran didn't think less of him for losing his morals. She didn't look at him in disgust. She approved of it. She encouraged him for doing it. No explanation given yet and she had already determined that what he did, he did for good. He had no desire or intention for personal gain. And he had never felt like someone had ever seen him so clearly before.

Again, she didn't push for his actual reasonings. Based off her earlier assumptions, she likely already knew them. But though it was clear she didn't think it, he didn't want to risk her assuming he was some mindless criminal. Without her prompting, he gave his explanation.

The law wasn't enough sometimes. And though it was sad and went against what he engrained in his own head, this was the best and more efficient option. After all, if you want something done correctly, do it yourself then, right?

Ran hadn't so much as flinched. And it was staggering.

"You're not upset?" He couldn't help the disbelieving tone he used. It was almost a little concerning she wasn't more opposed to this.

Ran shrugged. "I am a little. Clearly you've been doing this by yourself and lying to me when you could've just told me."

Tell her? Why would he want to tell her?

"Shinichi, you were almost shot. Clearly you need help doing this."

Absolutely not.

That had been his initial reaction. If he ever for some reason got caught, it would likely drag her down with him. And that was the last thing he wanted.

But after sleeping on it for a quite a few days, and also that he couldn't sneak off anymore once Ran realized what he was going, Shinichi began to see the possible perks to working with a partner. And not just any partner but Ran specifically.

She was smart. He was definitely the mastermind behind all of their plans but that was not to say Ran couldn't come up with a plan of her own. Her insight gave another perspective that sometimes, he never would've thought of. If she didn't like an idea, she said it. If she thought they should do something else, she told him. Shinichi wasn't perfect. He missed things sometimes. It was good to have her pair of eyes as well.

It was just as helpful to have her brute strength as well. He assumed most would find it somewhat emasculating to be physically weaker than their female counterpart. Shinichi didn't mind at all. He was strong as well but admittedly, there were things Ran could do that he could not. Like denting a wall with her bare fist.

With Ran added into the picture, it came with even more possibilities. And perks.

The one person he didn't want to have to lie to, he didn't have to anymore. And they worked close.

He liked that too.

Ran was a good asset and made his job a whole lot easier. He really took note of that fact when instead of climbing through an air duct to sneak into some party, Ran had somehow managed to get them clearance through the front door.

And that wasn't nearly all she was able to do.

Ran is gorgeous. It was the bitter sweet conclusion he came to when Ran easily had the host eating out of the palm of her hand. The guy probably would've just given her the painting they were after if she simply asked properly.

The thought annoyed him.

He always knew he had a thing for Ran. He was pretty sure everybody knew that fact besides the girl herself. He had known her for a long time now. They had been friends since the first year of college. Their friend group was also the same and their parents both had ties to the Japanese Police Force. And she was stunning to look at. He'd argue it would be impossible for him not to take a liking to his friend.

He never told her though. He didn't know if she felt the same and after this partnership they just started, he wasn't sure it was worth the risk. If he tried a move and it scared her off, he'd have to revert to working alone. And he didn't want to do that for more reasons than one.

Like he acknowledged before, Ran was beautiful. He was not alone in that belief. It made it all the more difficult to witness guys flaunt their wealth and good looks in her face. He didn't want to see that. They didn't actually know her. Ran was his friend for three years. They didn't deserve her especially when clearly all they wanted was to undress her. And they were arguably worse criminals than half the people he got locked up.

So it was all instinct when he finally cracked. Some guy whom they didn't know was trying to dance with Ran. And he wasn't just 'trying'. He was touching and caressing her arm. Gritting his teeth, Shinichi couldn't help himself when he wrapped an arm around Ran's waist and tugged her back into his chest.

"I thought the first dance was mine, wife."

It was stupid. He had no idea why he allowed that to slip out. If he didn't have better control of his emotions he probably would've turned flustered all the way to his toes.

Ran's eyes bulged. "W-wife?!"

Honestly, her surprise couldn't be helped. He had totally blindsided her. It was his fault. And he definitely didn't have a valid enough reason to interfere like he did.

Sensing something was off between the couple, the other guy raised a brow as he eyed the arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "You don't recognize your own husband?"

Shinichi wanted to bash his own head against the wall. This was why they weren't supposed to go against the plan. Posing as her husband had definitely not been part of what they discussed earlier. It caused too many questions that they did not prepare beforehand to answer-

A hand suddenly slid up and brushed against his cheek softly. "We're not married just yet, Shin-chan. Only engaged so it's a bit too soon to be saying that," she chastised with a giggle; her acting on point.

Beyond his control, he could feel a slight heat rise to his cheeks. The intimate way she touched his face wasn't helping either. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her eyes, meeting her softened gaze.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't see the ring."

The ring?

Ring?

A ring!

They didn't even have rings to back up their story-!

It was at that point Shinichi didn't know if the guy was actually apologetic for hitting on a married woman or suspicious that they weren't actually a couple that was engaged.

"No, it's our fault really," Ran said sheepishly. "This dummy here didn't get me the right ring size so it's sadly getting resized."

Shinichi was a little insulted. He would've most definitely did his research to get her the correct ring size before proposing.

After the guy walked away, they both found their way to the dance floor with all the other couples and joined in the slow sway. If asked why, he'd argue it was to back up their story even more. Deep down though, Shinichi knew better.

Ran was oddly silent however.

"Shin-chan?" He grumbled with forced annoyance. At the time it had completely caught him off guard. The nickname that his mother used for him. At the time he figured it was payback for the confusion he started. It didn't mean he hated the name any less.

But just as easily, she quipped back, "Wife?" She raised a brow as if to drive her point and he immediately shut his mouth.

It was definitely payback.

Ran never did question why he stepped in that night. They were on a job after all and he deduced that likely she had already forgotten what he'd done. Besides the little hiccup, every thing else went according to plan. Everything else stayed the same.

Until their next job. And the job after that. And the one after that.

Because that one night when they had taken the painting; it had started a trend of sorts. A trend where one or the either would claim to be in a relationship with the other. Before it had started with a dance which at the time, neither had been prepared for and both were too awkward to acknowledge properly. But the next time they are holding hands and eventually it becomes normal for Ran to hug his arm to her chest or for him to hold her waist.

Each time is a mystery to them. Neither have any idea what they'll be. It was a constant cycle of being married, to dating, to two already taken spouses in a very wanton and promiscuous love affair. And the stories they came up with on the spot were more extravagant and extra than the last. And they were never prepared before hand. Suddenly it was a game for them. How deep could they take this? What tale could they come up with this time? It was getting out hand. The stories were getting more detailed each time, he almost believed the lies himself.

Shinichi didn't usually snap back out of it until he saw her again in class the next day. They weren't childhood friends that had been together since preschool days. He hadn't dramatically confessed his love in London while the Big Ben chimed behind them. They hadn't shared a first kiss at Kiyomizu-dera on a school trip to Kyoto.

And it didn't stop there. If they weren't already talking to each other, they would always be touching in some form. Whether that was by a hand resting against his thigh or his fingers dragging dangerously low on her lower back.

It was a very small line they were tiptoeing against and the blatant flirting they joined in with was starting to toy with his emotions. It was one thing to elaborate or give false truths to further their disguises. It was another entirely to grope each other secretly. There was no witness to convince. Who were they showing off for other than each other?

It was getting increasingly more difficult to act like nothing was going on- or at least nothing was going on with his end. He was stressed and constantly filled with anxiety that at some point these lies would eventually bleed into their actual daily lives. Because when he once again had to suppress the urge to grab her hand as they walked from class, he was realizing once again who they actually were.

They were Shinichi and Ran. A Shinichi and Ran that had met three years ago in a shared psychology class. A Shinichi and Ran that were best friends and nothing more. A Shinichi that had been mooning after the same girl since he first met her. A Ran that as far as he could tell, didn't share that same sentiment.

This whole thing was a dangerous idea where his emotions were involved. And due to his argument that they didn't need to stop this 'charade' or whatever was the proper term to call it, it wasn't a matter of if this would affect their personal lives. It was a matter of when.

Surprisingly, it wasn't him that cracked.

It had been an honest mistake- one Shinichi didn't exactly mind. They had been in a study session with Sonoko and Nakamichi. It was a hot day and they had all taken refuge in the campus library. And to also help combat the heat, Shinichi had a water bottle that he was casually sipping on. One that Ran had easily grabbed from his hands to take a swig out of.

Shinichi didn't mind. He really didn't and truthfully, he probably wouldn't of even noticed if it weren't for the fact all their friends froze to gap at her incredulously. She had done this to him numerous times on a job. Asking for a sip of his champagne or simply stealing a bite of food off his plate. It had been a shock the first time but it in the moment he knew that was likely her intention to get a rise out of him. Now however, he was positive that she had fell into that act by mistake. She didn't mean anything by it, he was sure- not like she used to.

Nakamichi whom had been in the process of reading out his answer for one of the questions on the study guide had trailed off slowly, almost completely floored by what he had witnessed. Sonoko looked like she would fall out of her seat.

It was almost laughable that Ran didn't realize the stares that were being drilled into her. Attempting to keep his face neutral, he nudged his knee into hers gently and it was only at that she finally began to realize her mistake.

Features turning a scorching red, she quickly forced the water back into his hands. "I-I'm so sorry!" she burst. "I have no idea why I did that! I don't know what I was thinking," she sputtered. "I-it was just so hot and I-I-"

She was drowning; sinking further into her panic and he tried to save her.

"Ran, it's okay," he said calmly even though on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as she was. "It's hot outside and I've known you forever. We can share a water bottle." Shinichi was trying to play it cool. For the sake of their image with their friends.

Of course it wouldn't be enough to deter the teases they were sure to receive from their friends but what else could he do? He couldn't very well say she grabbed his by mistake. It had literally been in his hand. He had just drank out of it and been going to sip out of it again when she grabbed it. And he definitely couldn't say that she did this to him all the time when pretending to be his wife.

There was absolutely nothing they could say to excuse this. The whole scene had been way too casual even for the two of them. Sonoko, whom had made numerous jokes that they were actually a married couple, looked like this was too much for even her to comprehend. Because whether she knew he had a thing for Ran or not, anything she said before this had been harmless taunts.

"How long has then been going?!" Sonoko having determined that the study session was now over, pointed between them furiously. And that wasn't just an exaggeration. Sonoko looked irritated. Not because they were seemingly dating but because she had both missed and not been informed when it happened.

But there was nothing to tell. Nothing was going on- or rather nothing in the way she was thinking. No matter how many times they both told her that, the Suzuki heiress did not look convinced. Not even Nakamichi seemed to trust it but unlike the other girl, he thankfully kept his accusations shut till they were in private.

"Look- I'm not saying I'm mad or anything. It just sucks a little that you didn't tell me," his friend finally admitted when they left the two girls at the library.

Neither had been worried or surprised when Sonoko said they would catch up with them later. Shinichi felt bad for abandoning Ran but he knew that Sonoko would want to grill her for answers. It would've been more humiliating for both of them to be present for that.

Nakamichi wasn't nearly as difficult as Suzuki to deal with but Shinichi still found himself rolling his eyes. "I already told you," he said tiredly. "Ran and I are not dating." Shinichi wasn't sure how many more times he would have to say just that. He didn't even know if there was any other way to word what he was trying to get through his friend's apparently thick skull.

Suddenly his friend stopping walking, forcing him to do the same. For some reason his eyes were wide and a slight red was forming on his cheeks. "Oh."

Oh? Shinichi raised a confused brow. "What?"

"Well- I just never thought Ran-chan would ever. . . " Nakamichi trailed off, scratching behind his ear awkwardly. "She just doesn't seem the type, you know?"

Huh?

"Her . . type?"

And then suddenly his friend looked concerned, waving his hands in front of him defensively. "Hey- I'm not judging! Whatever you wanna call it- I support it!"

Suddenly Shinichi was freezing himself. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked aggravatedly.

"You and Ran-chan aren't dating but you're. . . you know," Nakamichi said pointedly. "You still could've told me though. I'm not going to tell anybody. Have some faith man. We've know each other since grade school."

Shinichi's eyes bulged and all the blood rushed to his face as understanding finally hit him.

"Ran and I aren't dating and we're not doing t-that either!" he exploded.

oOo

Without Ran even needing to tell him, Shinichi knew Sonoko must've given her a hard time afterwards. Nakamichi probably wasn't nearly as difficult to deal with but it still had been an uncomfortable conversation nonetheless.

His friend actually thought that he and Ran were having . . . sex on the side.

He wouldn't be so lucky.

Shinichi was flushing at the thought alone. It had been so humiliating.

But what made it worse however was when Ran actually apologized to him again in private. She reiterated once more that she couldn't understand what she had been thinking in the moment. She also suggested that maybe it would be best to stop pretending. It was mixing them up in real life and confusing for both of them.

A small part of him was crushed by her suggestion no matter how logical it was. It hurt.

Shinichi rejected the idea. He agreed that maybe they could tone it down some. They didn't need to be a couple every time they did a job. But he also argued that sometimes the act actually did make their job easier. And deep down there was another reason he didn't want to share.

Because if they gave up their little charade, then he knew what that would mean. There was no logical circumstance that would allow him to touch her and flirt with her like when they were on a job. And he desperately didn't want to lose that. Even if their act escalated each time.

But he knew Ran had a point.

Their next job was once again at another extravagant and fancy party. And this time, they both arrived alone. The two had snuck in separately and at different times as well. And throughout the entire night, neither acknowledged the other. They acted like perfect strangers.

This time the showcase was a pearl. A pearl that would surprisingly 'go missing' by the end of the night. And like every other job they did, he had a plan that they had gone over in detail numerous times. One that didn't work out at all considering the whole night had been derailed by the sudden appearance of the Phantom Thief.

The moment that magician's calling card appeared, Shinichi knew they'd have to make adjustments to their plan and they needed to do it now. If KID followed and stuck by the time on his announcement, then the pearl they were both after would be long gone by the time they got anywhere near it.

They had to improvise which was difficult without them even talking to each other. Besides that factor added in, throwing Kid into the mix only derailed everything further. If they wanted any hope of beating Kid, then they had to act right then.

To be honest, it wasn't very surprising they were almost caught. It hadn't been particularly smart of him to continue with his intentions of stealing the pearl. Just Kaito Kid being there caused too much of a scene. Any calling card that arrived meant it would soon be followed by police and a camera crew. The Phantom Thief brought media attention wherever he went. It was dumb of him to not just give the pearl to the thief. Especially cause-

Kaito Kid had mentioned the Night Baron in his calling card. He had made it clear he was aware that he wasn't the only thief present with their sights set on the pearl. And he had mentioned the other thief by name.

That gave a lot of insight Shinichi wasn't even sure Kid meant to give. That calling card told the detective that either Kid knew what types of jobs the Night Baron targeted or worse- that he knew the true identity of the Night Baron. And if the latter was correct, then it meant that someone had been watching him for a long time. Someone was probably watching him right now. And if that were the case, Kid knew his entire plan.

The right thing to do would be to pull back. To grab Ran and bail. The plans he had made were done without taking Kaito Kid into account. But if the other thief really had been watching him, then those plans could be tossed out a window. Nothing was worth getting both him and Ran caught and possibly arrested. The logical conclusion was to escape while they could.

Shinichi was too prideful for that. And stubborn. This wasn't his first run-in with the Moonlight Thief. Shinichi had dealt with him quite a few times when helping Inspector Nakamouri or Inspector Meguire. This would however be the first time he ran into the guy when he was on one of his own little side jobs.

And he was not prepared. Fighting against him as a detective had numerous resources. He had the Japanese Police Force at his disposal. As well as when he was working his real job- he did not need to hide his own face. Not only could he be recognized by the police, he had also made a name as a criminal. If somehow his face was linked to the scene of all those crimes- he was done for.

But like the idiot he was, he couldn't help but take this as a challenge. The fact Kaito Kid mentioned him by name in his calling card told him that the thief knew he was there and also he didn't really care nor was he stressed by that.

It wasn't like him to panic. But in the end, that was what he'd done. His actions had been panicked and rushed and honestly- thoughtless. Ran hadn't scolded him at all through the night; probably thinking now wasn't the time when they were running from police officers. Shinichi could just feel her disapproval however. He knew the moment they were out of here and alone at his house, he'd receive the yelling of a lifetime.

Getting an earful would be the least of his worries if they couldn't find a way out of this building. All of the usual exit points had been closed or cut off due to Kid's warning for his appearance. The guy was a showoff and frustrating. Shinichi knew it was all part of the guy's show to leave people wondering just how he made his escape.

Shinichi wanted to throttle him.

Because of that hack of a magician, he'd get caught. Because of him, Ran would get in trouble with him. The two of them had been running nonstop and even if they had the layout of the mansion memorized, it wouldn't help with guards standing at every single entrance and exit- which is what they had been doing the moment Shinichi triggered their alarm.

The panic and just straight anxiety that he felt in that moment, could not be paralleled to anything else in his life. He knew they were running out of options. Usually he was the one with all the plans but he couldn't even gather his thoughts to try to formulate one. All he could think was how much of a sad excuse for a thief, a detective, and a friend he was-

No. If there was one thing he would do, it was to save Ran. He got Ran involved in this and he would not allow her to go down with him. Already he had given up on finding escape. Now all he was trying to do was deduce just how he was going to explain Ran's side of things. He'd force her to pose as his hostage if he had to. He would not allow her to be ruined from this-

Abruptly his thoughts caught off when Ran very suddenly gripped his fingers tightly. When he glanced over in her direction, he found she was already looking at him. They were both running as fast as they could trying to put more and more distance between them and the heavy footfalls coming from behind them. Unlike him however, she did not appear scared or stressed. In fact, while he was internally having a meltdown, Ran shot him a quick but soft smile.

And suddenly she was pushing ahead of him; her fingers still clenching his tightly as she tugged him behind her.

She was taking them further in though, he noticed incredulously. In fact she was taking them towards the rooms. Shinichi had to stare into the back of her head, as if wondering if she'd lost her mind. There was no exit to the outside this far in. Nothing but windows which they already realized was not going to be an option. There would be officers outside each window waiting for them. They would not be able to get far.

Just when he had been about to reprimand her himself, he found himself being tugged to the side again. Ran's goal hadn't been the window. She had pulled him into one of the numerous bedrooms that lined the hall. Which he guessed would be nice for shock value but again, he found himself wanting to question her. Sure hiding in a room would be unexpected at first but he highly doubted they would fail to check these rooms. All it would do is buy them some time before they were eventually captured. And a simple search would prove that he was in possession of the pearl that was currently missing.

They had put quite a bit of distance between them and the task force that was chasing them. They would have a few minutes at most. And he knew exactly what he was going to do with those few minutes.

"Ran, what the hell?" he spun on her only for his eyes to grow bigger even more. He had turned to find her turning on the table lamp and he really thought she had lost it. They were trying to hide. They should be turning lights out, he wanted to yell as he watched her come back over to him. Anything he was meaning to say was gone when she was suddenly pulling him again and he only watched in confusion as she seemed to position him just in front of the table she had walked to.

His eyes bulged when she grabbed one of his hands and placed it around her ribs. And when she placed the other very firmly onto her rear, he turned into a sputtering mess.

"R-Ran . . . " The way he said her name this time was unlike before. It was smaller he knew but it was definitely nervous as well. By this point he was less concerned about the police chasing them than he was about his partner's behavior. He had given up on talking when suddenly she was pressing her palm flat against his chest. He followed the movement with his eyes until her other hand caressed his cheek forcing him to look directly at her.

She wasn't saying anything. And even if he wanted to, she didn't give him enough time to try. Palm on his chest scrunching into a fist, all he could do was gasp when suddenly he was tugged down into a kiss.

He froze. His eyes had bulged even more he was sure and he felt his features flood red- redder than they had been. It was hard for him to comprehend what exactly was happening right now. Ran hadn't given him a chance to process anything and the moment her lips touched his, his mind went blank. He was pretty sure he wasn't even breathing at this point.

She must've felt how frozen he was because suddenly she was pushing forward more, her mouth pressing insistently against his own. As if yelling at him to do something. And that was all he needed.

Taking notice that her eyes were shut, he did the same before he leaned into her willingly. His hand that she had pressed against her rear- that he had left there mostly out of shock, grabbed her and pressed her against him more firmly. The movement made her gasp and going off her response, his other hand rose to bury itself in her hair where he angled her face to fit more comfortably against his.

The kiss was slow but it didn't mean it was any less sensuous. Tongues were brushing against each other, their breath intermingling as it panted against the other's lips. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly why Ran felt the need to kiss him now, but as far as first kisses could go- he wasn't complaining. Was a reason really necessary?

No. He didn't think so.

Was he going to ask her why she was suddenly tugging his shirt from where it was neatly tucked into his pants?

Maybe later- definitely not now though. He didn't question it. He didn't question hearing what sounded like a door opening before being slammed shut. He didn't want to. If Ran wasn't, then why should he? All he knew in that moment was that something that he had been waiting for- something he had been wanting, was finally happening and he wasn't going to waste his time trying to get an explanation of why.

But even without wasting his time, it still wasn't enough. All too soon he felt Ran begin to pull away. Her hands released their tight grip on his shirt and hair and came to rest smoothly against his chest. Shinichi felt the retreat. She was moving away from him. And the realization made him panic.

No. He felt his mind shout. That wasn't enough. It's not enough.

Surging forward, just after their lips had completely separated, he found them slamming against hers once more. This time because of him. And when she gasped into his mouth he just couldn't help himself. Arms gripping her firmly, he turned to the side forcing her into the wall just beside the shelf she had him pressed against. His fingers had never left her hair and instead his fingers buried deeper into the long strands. If the grip was painful, Ran didn't say. If anything, it sounded like she liked it with the way she released a moan into his mouth.

Shinichi had her pressed into the wall, the hand that wasn't angling her face closer to his, gripping the bare skin of her thigh. In the moment, he didn't care to process or wonder just how his hand got through the slit of her dress. All he wanted to do was just get closer and closer and as close as he could get, he concluded as he forced her leg to stay raised against his hip. When it got to the point they needed a second to just breathe, he had his lips slanting across the smooth skin of her neck. From this position he could feel her panting heavily against his ear. He could feel her desperately trying to draw in air to her lungs. He also felt when she stiffened.

When he had practically picked her up, forcing her into the wall, Ran's hands had both slid to the front of his shirt. When she gripped the lapels of his suit coat she had used force to tug his mouth closer to her neck. Suddenly however, he felt that grip slacken.

"I t-think. . . I think they're gone now. . "

That was like a wake up call.

His own common sense kicking in, he remembered where they were. What they were doing. Who was chasing them. Gently, he released his hold of her thigh and set her to rest on her own feet. Taking a glance at her he noticed she was redder than he was.

"I-I'm sorry. I knew they would find us either way so I-I . . improvised. . . "

Improvised?

Improvised.

Still sort of stuck in some dazed haze, it took him longer than it should to understand what exactly she meant.

Improvised, he repeated again in his thoughts.

That was what she kissed him for? Shinichi could remember discreetly at some point the door opening and then slamming shut shortly after. At the time he hadn't really cared that much to question it. He had been way too focused and interested in something else.

Something else that she 'improvised'.

The bitter thought left the same taste is his mouth.

Frowning, and face turning a darker shade, he took a step back.

"Right . . . " he agreed swallowing hard.

Of course they couldn't stay there any longer than they already had. There was always the possibility that the police would realize their mistake and return. If they were smart, they shouldn't be here for if or when that happens. There was no time to just stand there awkwardly. Though that was what he proceeded to do.

The reminder she gave for why they had hid in this room in the first place, did nothing for him. He should've been like her; scrambling to fix their appearance to look somewhat normal. But he couldn't be bothered. Shinichi watched as she hurriedly straightened her dress and finally, began the process of cleaning himself up. His motions were slow and sluggish however compared to her quick and hastened ones. It was only after a few moments of him pulling his tie forward that he realized his shirt was untucked.

"Does my hair look okay?"

All at once he was distracted. Again. Pausing with his shirt, and glancing back at her. Did her hair look okay?

"Yes."

Belatedly he realized what she actually meant. Was her hair fixed? Did she look normal? And still looking at the hair that he knew she had styled meticulously beforehand, it was tangled and frizzed. The long strands were very obviously out of place.

He startled a little when suddenly Ran was just before him, brushing her fingers through his hair. He was taller than her so she was on her toes, stretching to reach his height. He acknowledged that but seemed to struggle to realize maybe he should lean down to make it easier for her. The thought didn't occur to him. Not at first anyway. Once the thought hit that maybe she was trying to kiss him again, he found himself bending down. Her face was close to his again and he caught the scent of whatever it was she was wearing.

The sudden movement clearly caught her off guard and his eyes that had apparently been focused on her mouth watched as she didn't pull away, but instead rested flat on her feet again. Her hands were still in his hear however and he had to take a moment to wonder if she was going to use that to grab him again.

"Shinichi! What are you doing?" she practically hissed the question; her movements still hurried. "You look like a mess. Hurry up!"

And with a blushing face he realized that no, she wasn't trying to kiss him again. She was trying to fix his hair because it looked ridiculous. And he was just standing there, taking his time. Like an idiot.

Hearing noises in the distance however, they had run out of time. Immediately whatever stupor he had been in, broke and not willing to use anymore time, they bolted.

Shinichi was sure they looked like quite the pair. There was no way people would look at them and think they hadn't done something. He guessed that meant the plan worked but it didn't make it any less humiliating having to push through snickering guests that 'just knew what they'd been up to'.

They hadn't been up to anything however. Just 'improvising'.

And all he had said in response was, 'right'.

Shinichi hated how that one word was all he said. It gave the impression that they were on the same page. And if that was all that kiss was to her, then clearly they weren't. In the moment he hadn't the brain to make the connection between her actions and the situation they had been stuck in.

He wasn't surprised he didn't get her intentions to begin with. Unlike her, it never crossed his mind to use that as a . . disguise? And the fact that they didn't think exactly alike is what saved them.

But he was still mad.

It was laughable and dramatic and infuriating. Because he couldn't do or say anything in response and he knew it. How could he be angry? How could he complain if her plan actually worked? Yeah, sure his pride was hurt and he was a little embarrassed when he realized they were not on the same page. But he could admit, hurt feelings were easier to deal with than jail time.

It didn't mean he couldn't feel the sting still.

Shinichi knew why it hurt so much. He knew the real reason. Because for once he actually believed that Ran saw him as he saw her. Not just best friends or partners in crime but maybe something . . . more.

They had met years prior in a shared class on psychology. And he didn't want to say it was love at first sight but- it was definitely a lasting first impression.

He knew from early on that he held interest there. An interest that was built upon by the constant joint study sessions and realization that they also held numerous moral similarities. They were just pursuing them in different ways. She wanted to be a lawyer and he wanted to be a detective. Quite often he'd make the joke that they'd be an unstoppable pair in law enforcement; jokes that deep down held a hint of seriousness that, at the time, he hoped she didn't notice.

The truth was much harder to swallow. It had come like a bucket of ice, cold water dumped over his head. It felt like a slap to his face. A stone, hard slap of reality. His subtly backfired or rather- his lack of action did. Because again, how could he be mad when he never made his desires known?

He was a real coward. He never could bring himself to confess no matter how often the thought occurred to him. The excuse being- Ran had never gave any indication that she felt the same. Shinichi didn't want to ruin the strong bond they already had; their friendship that they had built on for years. It just wasn't worth the risk when he couldn't be confident in her answer nor her reaction.

But then she kissed him. His whole mind had shut down. And when they separated, possibilities flooded him. He could confess or was a confession really necessary at this point? Ran liked him. Ran wanted him.

That's what he first thought. So he responded. He had kissed her back. And if that already wasn't an obvious display of his feelings, he had acted like a totally catatonic fool directly afterwards.

Once they knew they were in the clear, Ran had become oddly silent. And distanced. She wouldn't meet his gaze and her cheeks were still a suspicious amount of pink. She seemed extremely fidgety to be beside him and the moment they said their goodbyes for the night, she had bolted.

Shinichi didn't know what he had been expecting exactly. An apology? Maybe even a confrontation over his obvious infatuation with her? But she had said nothing. And she had fled like the police were still chasing them.

Maybe what made it worse was that he couldn't be sure if it was because she had kissed him or, that she realized how he saw her and she panicked. Neither meant well for him. Both gave the impression that kissing him made her uncomfortable.

Shinichi wanted to punch something.

And his shirt still needed to be tucked in.

He got more than halfway of doing that before he remembered he was already home and began asking himself why exactly he was fixing it now. He had no need to do it now and grumbling irritatedly to himself, he instead began taking it off.

They didn't take on another job for almost an entire month after that. Waiting in between gigs wasn't unusual but not planning the next however, was. Normally by this point, he'd already be casing their next event. By this time he would've already consulted Ran.

He had done neither.

Instead, he went to school as normal and also continued helping Inspector Meguire when prompted. Nothing appeared different except the absence of their little side cases.

And that Ran was avoiding him.

It wouldn't of been as bad if it wasn't for their friends noticing that something was off. It also didn't help that even the media was pointing out the unusually long hiatus for the Night Baron.

"So about this . . . thing . . that's not really a thing with Mouri-san. . . Do you wanna talk about it?"

And there was his other issue. Shinichi had long given up trying to explain to Nakamichi that absolutely nothing romantic was going on between him and Ran. Now, after their earlier predicament, it became even more difficult to deny. His friend was convinced that the two were simply trying to keep it under wraps. That for some reason they didn't want anybody to know they were seeing each other. Nakamichi had already switched to asking why exactly Mouri-san wanted to hide things because he was confident the two were already together and that there was no way Shinichi would be the one wanting to hide it.

Grudgingly, Shinichi wasn't sure if he should be insulted by that last comment. Deeming that Nakamichi was correct and there was absolutely no way he'd want to hide the fact they were dating, Shinichi decided to keep his mouth shut. If they were dating, he wouldn't want to hide it. If they were dating, he'd walk home with her instead of his dork of a friend. If they were dating, he wouldn't have to explain why she suddenly decided to drink from his drink at a group study session. If they were dating, it would've been his idea to kiss the life out of her while running from the police. If they were dating-

Hand flying to his head, he could feel the strands of his hair getting scrunched between his fingers. And just as quickly as the tangent had started in his head, it stopped. As if the only thing keeping it all together was his hand against his head.

What was he thinking? He mentally hissed at himself as his teeth clenched. Entertaining Nakamichi's story. He was spiraling in his own thoughts and elaborating an idea that had not, and by the looks of it, would not be happening. Ran and him hadn't even spoken properly to each other since the last job. If they did, it was curt, in passing, or in the presence of someone else. Meaning it was a guarantee they could not discuss anything that had happened- her actions nor his seemingly obvious to him confession. Which all he could do was assume that was her intention.

He wanted to pull his hair from his scalp, it was so frustrating. Was he supposed to take this as a rejection? Was he not worth the time to say she wasn't interested directly to his face? Or did she think he would not accept her refusal? Did she think that low of him? He wouldn't lie- he liked her a lot. The rejection would hurt but they could at least be friends still. She didn't need to run from him as if he had the plague. Shinichi swore he could see the panic in her face anytime she happened to stumble upon him unexpectedly.

The space that stretched between them seemed to be widening. And worried the gap would become much too big to mend, Shinichi did the only thing he could do.

He found them another job.

At first, his intentions had been different. He had wanted to use this as a way to get her to talk to him; to address what exactly happened between them almost a month ago. If it was on a job, that was a guarantee they would have a moment alone. But at the realization of how that would probably make Ran feel- he paused. He would be cornering her. And that realization made him wince internally.

Shinichi didn't want Ran to feel trapped. He didn't want her to feel like she couldn't talk to him anymore just because she didn't want him the same way. They could be friends still. He wanted that more than anything. The rest, he could learn to deal with. He was well aware more than anybody about how kind Ran was. Her silence was most likely her way of sparing his feelings and easing her guilt about not returning his affections. She didn't need to feel guilt though. She wasn't obligated to feel any certain type of way. Ran didn't owe him anything regardless of how much he wanted it.

If he had considered it, he knew Ran must've come to the same conclusion- that he was trying to force her to talk. It would likely explain why she took her time responding to his invitation of working again. Her response had come in the middle of the night when he must've been dead asleep. Shinichi had only noticed the text message after turning his alarm off that morning.

Shinichi hated to think it, but Ran's presence- in a roundabout way- likely did more harm than good for his well being. He had already gotten a little risker the more jobs he took on. He acted rash and with no regard for his own safety after a certain point. Once Ran's presence in the form of an accomplice was assured, the possibilities became endless. And so did the risk. If Ran hadn't been there backing him, he surely would've been done for numerous times. He knew that. But that was also why he even attempted those risks.

Having their first real interaction since their last job being another mission, was a mistake. Not addressing what had happened between them before starting this, was a mistake. He acknowledged that when Ran still wouldn't even look at him directly. She definitely made sure to keep her distance as well.

Shinichi had already decided before meeting up that he would not be mentioning 'that job'. It wouldn't be right and it wouldn't be fair of him to try that. Clearly however, Ran hadn't grasped that yet. Any moment he would be about to start talking, she would tense. As if preparing herself for the inevitable.

That meant she knew this could've been a perfect moment for him to question her. She knew that, yet she came anyway. Not even the possible awkward conversation of unrequited feelings would she leave him to fend for himself. She had started joining him on these jobs to defend him in the first place. Whether she didn't want him the same or not, it was still nice to know that at least that wouldn't change.

He just wished that she would relax. There was no way for him to tell her he wouldn't talk about it without actually bringing it up. By the time she might've understood that, they had already put their 'plan' into motion. If it could even be called that. How could they plan when neither could even look the other in the face let alone have a conversation?

This whole night was a bad idea. Shinichi had the feeling throughout the night and as things progressed, it only got worse. Why would he even think this was a good idea? Any person with half a brain would've just dodged the bullet and asked to have the conversation. He had already come to terms in his head that clearly she didn't want him that way. He knew that. Her avoidance spoke louder than anything she could ever tell him. Yet he also knew, hearing it aloud and in the open provided a confirmation her silence didn't give.

Shinichi needed to hear it; aloud. Regardless if deep down he already knew. He needed it. If anything for his piece of mind and for closure. He had pined for her for a long time. Moving on would not be easy. It would take time. But the process wouldn't begin until she gave her refusal outright.

Having all of this sit on him, literally weighing down on his mind, just before a job was dumb. Her presence was only making it more difficult as was her refusal to even properly acknowledge him. He wasn't doing much better, he'd admit. But he had tried to bridge that gap and Ran wasn't reaching from her end.

How Ran felt was everything to him. Shinichi didn't want his presence to be uncomfortable for her. He was doing everything- even down to the plan- to show it was okay. She didn't have to feel the same way. It was fine. He would be fine.

Where as normally they would walk in as a couple when it came to balls and galas, he decided they could work this one a little more separately. Shinichi was doing everything he could possibly think of, to show her that he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And after the revelation a month ago, pretending to be his wife would surely do that.

Ran only got more tense. And that only made him more nervous. Neither a good sign when communication and teamwork was the most important aspect to be able to successfully carry out these jobs. That should've been the biggest indicator that once again, this was a bad idea.

He messed up. He knew that. Even in the moment when he forcibly shoved that guy away from her, he knew he was the one at fault. There was no reason for his actions. No logical one anyway. The only thing that powered him in the moment was jealousy. It fueled and burned through him stronger than anything he could remember. Nothing had ever cut off his thought process so quickly. Not even the time Ran kissed him.

But this was not what he'd been expecting when Ran said she would 'make an opening for him'. The sensation that sunk deep into the pit of his stomach was similar to being sick. That was the feeling he got when watching Ran disappear into a hallway with the 'owner' of this gem.

He didn't trust it. Not the look in the guy's eye nor the impatient tug he seemed to give Ran. Shinichi didn't trust any of it. And no, it had nothing to do with his jealousy. It was for Ran's safety that he followed them; that instead of going the clear way his partner indicated, that he trailed behind the two out of sight.

Nothing to do with his personal emotions at all.

Peeking around the corner to find his partner pushed against a door about to be kissed however was, again, nothing he had been expecting. Yet the reaction was instantaneous.

This anger he felt was different. This was a different kind of rage that reared its head forward. A nasty emotion he had never experienced so strongly. With a mixture of fury, possessiveness, and just about anything in-between, before his brain could even catch up and actually think- he was already across the hall and shoving the man roughly.

Ran seemed as surprised as the guy. Her eyes had bulged when suddenly the arms that had been bracing her weight disappeared. She stumbled in her satin dress but Shinichi was too furious to help her straighten. His attention was too focused on the creep that was still on the floor, mostly in shock. Shinichi had pushed him hard. Probably too hard if it was able to knock the guy off his feet but in the moment, he could care less. There was nothing that could be said to him then that would make him believe this guy didn't deserve it. He had been touching Ran. That was enough for him.

After finally realizing what just happened, the guy's eyes shot up to look at him angrily. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly what made the guy do it. He honestly thought he just initiated a fist brawl. But likely taking one look at the simple fury on his face, the guy stood up while wiping the blood off his bottom lip; the anger gone from his eyes and instead a smirk that was anything but happy. With a promise to get security for the both of them, the guy exited the hall from where they had come.

They couldn't let him go; not if they wanted their plan to succeed. Both of them had to know that. But neither of them did a thing till he was long out of sight.

It was Ran that reacted first. It was his turn to be shoved as she pushed her hands against his chest angrily.

"What are you doing?" She questioned him furiously. And from that alone he realized the shove was more out of panicked frustration than any real anger.

Shinichi was fine with that. He was sure he had enough anger for the both of them.

"No- what are you doing?" His voice was incredulous just like his face.

"I thought my job. You said to get close to him. You told me to make sure he was distracted."

"I didn't mean like that."

Ran sighed as if she were exhausted. "Well what did you mean, Shinichi?"

"I-I don't know- just anything except making out with him," he snapped and in his frustration he couldn't help but stutter.

"Why are you getting so upset?"

It was clear to him then before she even spoke that Ran understood he was mad. He knew that when her eyes softened towards him. But from her question, she clearly couldn't understand why he was mad. And if possible that was making him angrier. Because from his last sentence alone, it should be obvious why he was upset. If they took away everything that had happened between them a month ago, with his words alone that he spoke tonight, her answer was still right in front of her. He wasn't understanding why she just wasn't getting it.

"Y-you can't do something like that!"

"And why can't I? I swear you don't make any sense to me, Shinichi. I was only doing what I thought you wanted."

She was only trying to make his job easier for him. And if he weren't so heated he'd recognize that what she had been trying to do really would've made the job easier. That disgusting lowlife would've been so distracted. But to achieve that in that way was unacceptable to him.

"Why would I want you to kiss him?"

"Why would you not?" she countered.

His eyes blazed. "Are you actually serious?" he asked incredulously.

"You're mad." The way she stated it- it wasn't a question. It was a fact. And he was mad. He was so furious it was almost insane how personally he had taken this. Because this wasn't acting for him. It had never been. He never had to pretend to feel more for her. This was something he wanted. Not just on jobs but all the time. Him and Ran together. Him and Ran being a couple.

And he knew he had no right to be so upset. She never gave any indication that this would happen outside of their side jobs. He was the one that was turning it into something it wasn't meant to be- a reality. But she could at least do him the courtesy of not acting clueless. He had clearly kissed her that night without any other intention except that he simply wanted to. She knew that. She wouldn't of avoided him in their regular daily lives if that weren't the case.

He needed to step back. It was too soon to come back to this when clearly he wasn't over it. There wouldn't be another job until he could get over his feelings for her. And if that never happened, so be it. He was done with this conversation.

Shaking his head, Shinichi went to walk away. "Forget it."

Ran being quicker than him however, shot forward and gripped his arm. "How am I supposed to 'forget it'? You're obviously angry. Just tell me why." And for the first time in this conversation, he saw that she was actually beginning to get mad.

He had already decided what he would do though and instead he just shook his head again. "If you don't get it on your own, then it doesn't matter," he responded calmly.

Ran obviously rejected that idea.

"It matters to me! I played my part in your plan. I was going to do something I didn't even want to do-"

He wanted to argue that he never forced her to join him as the Night Baron. But it didn't matter now because this would be the last time.

"-so you could grab a stupid rock-"

That rock could sell for over 500,000 yen, he wanted to say but instead he remained stoic.

"-and you just storm in here like a jealous boyfriend-"

He was jealous. But he wasn't going to engage in this any further.

"-which we're not together-"

They're not. He knew that. He would work on it.

"-which you made that perfectly clear in your plan-"

He knew they weren't together. That's why he switched up their usual plan-

...

"What?!"

Shinichi was actually stunned into silence. There wasn't a lot that could do that for him either. But to bring up the plan that he made specifically to make her comfortable and complain about it, had him even more aggravated. She seemed like she wanted to continue but he wasn't about to allow that to slide.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he finally cut her off, not even paying attention to what she was currently saying. His earlier idea to just let this whole thing go, vanished as quickly as it had come.

Probably thinking she said too much, her tone got quiet and her face went pink.

Regardless of her obvious embarrassment however, she didn't try to take back what she said. "There's other ways to say you're not interested besides pushing me to the side for some side act. You could've told me how you felt. I wouldn't of left you to do this alone," she said with that hint of frustration still there.

But Shinichi was still stuck. Because now nothing was making sense to him. After all this time and he thought he finally figured out why Ran was avoiding him before, what she was saying now completely contradicted all of that.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he flat out asked.

A frown marred her features. "You know what we usually do as these kinds of parties. You know what . . acts work better here. And you changed that on purpose," she accused.

"You avoided me!" was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

"Only because I didn't know what to do!" she raised her voice with a completely flustered face now.

"How about talking to me-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Immediately their shouting was cut off; both of them jerking in shock before going on the defensive. They were still on a job after all. But once they saw just who it was that had the audacity to interrupt their argument, they both froze with widened eyes and slackened jaws.

Kaito Kid didn't seem to care if he was intruding or not. For some reason, he looked frustrated as he stormed out behind a pillar.

"Are you two actually kidding me?" And the other pair watched as he came closer without a care.

"Some of us are actually trying to work. I've literally been sitting alone in that room waiting and neither of you came to do anything. I could've bailed an hour ago while you guys were griping during a heist. Not to mention the guy I had to knock unconscious on my way over here," he jabbed a thumb behind him and lo and behold the guy he had shoved to the ground was currently leaning unconscious against the far wall. But the Phantom Thief didn't seem to be through.

"Which- how has this not been resolved yet?"

Shinichi and Ran both flushed scarlet and taking that as his answer, Kid threw his hands up in frustration.

"I swear there has been absolutely no progression between the two of you since the first time I saw you. Do you have any idea how obnoxious that is for a bystander?"

"She avoided you because she kissed you and actually liked it," he pointed a finger at Ran who flushed brighter at his words before turning it to Shinichi next who went pale, "and he changed the plan because he thought you avoiding him meant you didn't like it!"

"Do you see how easy that was? Is there anything that you two do not understand?"

At their mutual silence, Kaitou Kid shook his head aggravatedly before spinning around, his cape billowing out behind him. "And you guys are my rivals?" he grumbled bitterly under his breath. "You guys better have this sorted out before next time."

Even long after Kid left, the two remained standing there completely frozen. They both were staring at where the thief had made his exit but neither seemed to want to break the silence first. Neither wanted to be the first to confirm or deny the accusations thrown at them.

Instead, realizing that they were still very much in the open with an unconscious body and that this job was definitely ruined, Shinichi turned a glance towards Ran. Unsurprisingly she was avoiding looking at him again and her face was still insanely red. But his was too and if it were for the same reason. . . then they had a lot to discuss.

"Do-" he started before cutting himself off. He wasn't sure if now was the right time when they were standing in the hall of one of their heists after having a shouting match. But when her eyes flit up to his quickly at the sound of his voice and saw they looked hopeful, he didn't care.

"Do you want to get something to eat. . . with me?" And then he cleared his throat realizing how informal that sounded and that he better be clear because obviously she didn't go off hints.

"Would like you to go out to dinner with me?"

Her face still impossibly red, she bit her lip before nodding slowly. "I'd like that."

oOo

Months later, Shinichi found himself at another gala. It was the usual type of party he hated attending but he'd have to admit as his eyes followed one figure across the room, this one wasn't too bad.

Until it got closer and certain features became clearer and he realized this was actually the worst one yet.

"Ah, Shin-chan, did you see they have a chocolate fountain?" she beamed excitedly before reaching for him.

Immediately he side stepped the arm that went to link with his own making 'Ran' pout at him. Shinichi didn't care until he noticed the confused stare from across him. He had stated this was his fiancé after all and froze when he caught their puzzled looks.

This time, when she went to link her arm with his, grudgingly, he allowed it. No matter if he was cringing so badly inside, his teeth gnashing together irately. "Yes. I saw," he bit out. And barely getting the whole statement out, his champagne flute he held was snatched from his other hand that wasn't currently wrapped around 'Ran'.

Shinichi had to grit his teeth as he watched her swallow practically the whole thing in one gulp. With a cheeky grin he was sure was meant to seem mockingly innocent considering the actual Ran had done this numerous times before, she held the glass out to him with the one measly sip that was left in it as an offering.

"Keep it," he bit out still trying to keep his cool. There were people still watching them after all. And shrugging she downed the rest of it.

Probably noticing the peculiar tension between the two, it was quite easy to dismiss themselves. And as soon as they were somewhere deemed a little private, Shinichi turned angrily.

"Where is she?"

And mocking him further, violet eyes widened comically as brows scrunched in faux confusion. "Where is who?"

The voice was exact. Purely feminine and a complete copy.

But it wasn't real. It was fake and he could tell.

Or rather he noticed the obvious struggle for Kid to keep his knees bent. It was quite embarrassing and even more infuriating to notice that his girlfriend whom he had been trying to ogle had in fact not actually been his girlfriend. But in actuality a hack of a magician doing his best to maintain the height and appearance of a young woman.

More mortified that he believed for a moment this was his girlfriend enough to ogle her, Shinichi had no patience. Fully irritated now, he gripped Kid's arm furiously while snapping in a harsh whisper, "Where is Ran?" The grip only loosened when he realized they were still technically in the open and he forced a small grin at anybody that looked their way.

"Calm down," the still female voice tried to wave him off. "We had a small issue so we had to do a little switch."

Doing his best to ignore that this wasn't actually Ran though it was her voice, Shinichi prodded further. "What do you mean a 'small issue'? What happened?"

"Well something didn't exactly go according to plan and since we both agree your girlfriend has monster strength, I decided as a last resort we can rely on that," the imposter smiled happily.

He was so proud of himself.

Not really sure if he wants to know what that means, Shinichi began heading towards the hall where he knew Ran would be then. "And you just left her there alone."

"What?" Kid pouted. "You don't have confidence in me, Shinichi?" They were in the hall now and Kid was trailing behind him still in that irritating disguise. He had given up on trying to maintain a shortened height and was walking normally, but out of all the things Shinichi could pick apart about the disguise, it was something else that disturbed him more.

"Do not do that," he spun around angrily. It was one thing to call him 'Shin-chan'. Ran would never call him that except for that single time before. But to speak to him how she actually does- it was starting to freak him out.

Kid frowned for real this time. "Don't do what?"

"Stop sounding like her!" He snapped uncomfortably.

Seeming to finally understand, Kid shrugged before saying in his own voice, "Fine."

But that was just as bad. Hearing that voice with Ran's face.

"Never mind- that's worse," Shinichi sighed heavily and fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Just stop talking."

This was the first and only time they'd ever team up again. Shinichi couldn't believe they managed to talk him into it in the first place. They had been right. There was no point in the two thieves fighting over who stole the ring first when it was clear the goal was the same. Not like last time when the two men both stumbled into a treasure's room two weeks ago wanting to steal the same thing. And after they managed to almost both get caught last time due to them arguing, Ran had been the one to present this idea.

But Shinichi couldn't get over what the dunce had accused him of. 'Stealing his thunder'- as if they were competing to be the most wanted criminal in the fraud department. He wasn't trying to steal anything. As far as he was concerned, Kid could carry all media attention he wanted. Shinichi would never try to take that. But he couldn't help it if fans of theirs constantly argued over who the best thief actually was.

And yes, amazingly that was a thing.

Shinichi resented that though. He was no thief. And after watching him a little more closely, Shinichi realized that just maybe . . . Kid wasn't either.

Neither one wanted the treasure for themselves. Besides Kid's weird rule that he needed to 'look' at the gem before they decided anything. It was clear the Phantom Thief was looking for a treasure and once he found it, he wouldn't be giving it back. Shinichi wondered if that was likely the reasoning for what Kaito Kid was doing in the first place. He had never thought much of the guy. He had always just assumed that he was some mindless criminal that flaunted and attempted to disguise what he was- a criminal- behind obnoxious magic acts. Because that's all they were. Even if sometimes it took a bit to realize how the thief had done it, he always figured it out. There was always an explanation. And that's why Shinichi didn't understand nor did he care to learn just why Kid paraded around like a magician.

But now working with him, it annoyed him, but his curious mind made it easy for him to at least attempt to analyze his behavior.

Kid was doing this for a reason. A reason other than crime at least. He was positive Kid would never try to actually kill or harm a cop or bystander. He always took the treasure and bailed. And every single time, he would read the next day that the treasure had magically been 'returned' to the rightful owner.

Kaito Kid never held onto a single gem he stole. Not a single time.

It was difficult for him to admit, but Ran was right. The two were very similar. Even if they carried it out differently or if their way of doings things were the opposite of the others, their outcome was always the same. Shinichi wasn't foolish enough to believe they had the same goal; that they did this for the same reason. It was clear that Kid was looking for something and once he found it, he would not be returning it. But though he would never say it aloud, the Magician was not a bad person. He always wanted to believe there was no good enough reason to break the law. There was nothing that warranted another person committing a crime. But if that were actually true- then what were he and Ran doing? He wanted to believe they were doing the right thing. And so grudgingly, he accepted that about the Phantom Thief.

Things were very rarely black and white.

oOo

"Who was your nice date?"

The soft voice called over to him gently from up ahead on the path. Recognition immediately pulled his attention away from his feet he had been watching dejectedly; his hands stuffed inside his suit pockets. The words that filtered in however had him perking up.

Supressing a grin he shrugged. "Just some girl I met in college psychology."

Ran blushed slightly but smiled all the same. It wasn't till he reached her that she began walking beside him. "She seemed to be dressed a bit risqué though, don't you think?"

Shinichi peeked over at her as she stayed beside him. She wasn't looking back but he could only assume she was wondering how he liked her dress.

Which he refused to judge after having only seen Kaito Kid wearing it.

Referring back to her question, he snorted. "Probably because the wrong person was in it."

He would've much rather seen the real Ran wearing it.

Finally breaking composure- stopping whatever roundabout way she was trying to ask, she stopped walking. "But it was a perfect copy!" she protested pouting and Shinichi had to wonder what exactly she was after here. He had a feeling he'd be in trouble no matter the answer he gave her.

But perfect? Perfect clone, his ass.

"There are just some things that can't be copied," he supplied simply even though in his mind, he knew exactly what parts of Ran couldn't be imitated.

Ran was not content with his response. If anything, she almost became suspicious as he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "Like what?"

Realizing he might've steered this conversation somewhere he definitely didn't want, Shinichi swallowed hard when she raised a brow.

"What did he not copy?" she asked outright.

If she wants an honest explanation . . .

Sighing, he looked away, turning his nose up. "Your chest does not sit that high. Not only does he not have any, but your breasts are large. He most likely had to make them rest higher to disguise that. And though your thighs do have quite a bit of muscle, they are much softer than what he presented- not to mention he was actually walking around with his knees bent slightly to accommodate the height difference."

Ran didn't respond right away. Her silence dragged on and eventually he became nervous. He definitely confessed too much. Even if she was his girlfriend, surely it would make her uncomfortable to realize he watched her that intently. And on every little detail as well. But Shinichi couldn't help but to be insulted that she said Kid was an exact copy. That would never be possible. Ran could not be replicated. Especially when Shinichi could pick out so many things that the magician had gotten wrong in his disguise. Of course the detective knew there was only so much one could do in a disguise. But still, Shinichi was too much of a perfectionist and Ran was perfect in his eyes.

Suddenly his arm was being gripped gently and Shinichi blinked oddly when Ran slowly wrapped her arms around his. At first he thought she would be mad. He had openly admitted to ogling her. And if she asked him to be more honest, he would have to say he'd been watching her long before they started dating.

"Thank you," she said softly, startling him by breaking the silence and catching him off guard with her response. The confusion must've clearly been on his face because she turned red again. Her smile didn't drop though.

"It's nice to know that you could tell it wasn't me. . . that all you see if me."

They had begun walking again and Shinichi couldn't help but think he definitely dodged a bullet. But he would've been lying if he said anything else. And though it made him anxious to know that all his thoughts and feelings were out and on the table, he was sick of hiding them. Ran deserved to know exactly how he thought about her. She deserved to know just how much he noticed her and for how long he wanted to be with her.

And if he was rewarded for honestly. . .

"I guess that means you'll have to wear that dress again so I can actually give you an opinion on it," he said nonchalantly even though his gaze continued to rest ahead of him. He hoped it came out like a suggestion because he really hadn't gotten to see her in it. Currently she was wearing jeans and coat after having to give up the dress for Kid's impromptu disguise.

"Can't. I'm pretty sure Kid went home in it," Ran innocently said completely missing why he wanted her to wear it again and bursting his bubble in the process.

Deflating, he changed his mind. "He really is a thief," he grumbled.

Ran raised a brow. "And then what are you, Night Baron?"

"Alright," he said sternly while narrowing his eyes and she began giggling.

Clenching her arms much more firmly around his arm, he felt her chest press against it even more making him gulp. "Don't worry. I have something else I can wear just for you," she whispered.

#dcmk #shinran #fanfic #fanfiction #shinran fanfic #dcmk fanfic #shinichi kudo #ran mouri #maybe a little phantom thief #kaito kid #;)#og #my wrtitng

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delldarling · 4 years ago

Text

the city is hoarding hearts | arroven

male dragon x gender/body neutral reader 9015 words lemon | mention of drinking alcohol, face riding, size difference, fairly submissive monster, penetrative sex, poetry, touch starved note: behold! my modern epic fantasy universe! this world first appeared back in August for my Patreon Story of the Month, and though I haven’t revisited Arroven again just yet, I did return to this universe for December’s Story of the Month as well. 👀

Magic, despite people's claim to the contrary, is beyond rare these days. No one really claims that it isn’t real, that it didn’t once run rampant with it’s existence. After all, it’s impossible to deny when people have things like the architecture of the North to reference. The towers built into their seaside cliffs, spiraling up like the serpents of old reaching for the sun? Without magic, without gravity spells, and an everlasting charm on those spells, thick enough to double as a coat of paint, the towers would have fallen into the sea by now, dashed against the dark stones jutting out from the deep green waters. Many people, though especially the elves, think that the towers will endure long after the cliffs have crumbled into the water. Floating relics, you’ve heard more than a few people murmur, wonder in their voices, wouldn’t that be something?

Even more common now, there are people the world over that claim they have a spark of magic left still, that they can feel the rhythms of the magical tide flooding back over the world.

She Wakes is written on street corners and thick posters, spray painted on the underside of the colossal Echo Bridge. No matter how often they have workers doing their best to clean the graffiti up, the giant letters are back in place a few days later.

Despite how much you’d like to believe them, as everyone dreams of the rumors, of magic returning, you’ve never put too much stock into the whispered words. Why would you? No matter how often you’ve spent watching wispy clouds streak by your window, no matter how often you’ve taken a moment to reflect on the thought, to nurse a seed of hope… Nothing has ever come of it.

It’s why you keep trying to ignore that heavy ache in the arch of your feet, or the way you keep noticing advertisements for Arroven.

History books and the elderly all say that this is how it starts when magic finally blooms in someone’s blood. There’s an itch. An ache. A constant irritant that starts in your extremities and wriggles into your veins, and then coincidences will start to pile up. Small things, like noticing whenever the clock strikes 11:11 on whatever clock you pass. Or maybe it’s having the luck to switch the radio station to your favorite song without fail, or—

“Stop it,” you mutter to yourself when you spot it. You breath puffs out into the chilly air, adding to the fog lingering in the streets. You kneel, brushing aside some of the fallen damask leaves, their velvety backs clinging to your touch even as you do your best to shake them off. Just barely hidden under their litter is a postcard. Without even glancing at it, you know what you’ll find on the back, but you’re drawn to pick it up anyway, turning it over. It depicts a sprawling city with green undertones, the word Arroven written in a sloping, beautiful script along the bottom of the image. The edges are creased, almost lovingly, and there’s a small puncture hole at the top left corner, as if someone had it pinned to a corkboard for no short amount of time.

Until this moment, you haven’t picked up any of the advertisements for Arroven. The stories all say that you can ignore it, that the magic will go away and fade from you like an ebbing tide if you only will it hard enough, but… You don’t know that you really want it to leave. Those seeds have hope might not have fully sprouted, but their roots have run deep, snaking through your veins. You swallow past the dryness in your throat and turn the postcard over, wonder if you’re going to get an address, or if there are words of encouragement intended for the last owner.

The postcard is faintly yellowed at the edges, but it’s otherwise blank.

You wilt, disappointed, but you don’t throw it back down onto the stones. If you check the railway listings, you’re more than certain that you’ll find a one way trip to Arroven suddenly dirt cheap. The pathway that will lead you there is probably paved with strangely good fortune, more invisible hooks ready to find a secure hold in your heart. You might as well find out if there’s anything to these claims of magic. You have far too much hope shored up in your bones and pumping through your chest not to at least try.

A month later, and you’re starting to believe that whatever magic that led you this far has all but fled. Of course, you’re more than content with where it’s left you, a word rattling around in the back of your brain and clamoring to spill from your lips: home. Arroven feels like home.

It’s not just the city though. It’s your place. It’s the stones that pave the streets and the people that fill them. It’s the smell of bakeries and the faint hint of exhaust. It’s the clean smell of paper and ink from the stationary shop you’d stumbled into on your first night in Arroven, and the proprietor’s barely-there smile. You’d made fast friends with her almost instantly, like it was fate.

Mora, despite her solemn stature, and the vast amount of spiraling tattoos disappearing under the neck of her cleanly pressed shirts, is beyond kind. She possesses a startling, sparkling wit that leaves a smile lingering on your lips whenever you think of her snappy little comments. She’d given you a job in her shop a few days after you’d first arrived, perking up as soon as you’d come back into her shop. She needed a cashier, so she could have more time to develop her own inks, and then a few days after that you literally stumbled onto a showing of a furnished apartment. It had fit all of your needs, and your shoes had sunk into the plush carpet of the bedroom, like a quiet voice in the place asking you to stay.

The ache in your feet had eased, that strange little irritant in the back of your mind fading with every passing day. You haven’t put too much thought into magic since then, as there hasn’t been a reason when you have a new job to keep you busy, and a city to explore on your days off. You love it here, the sea green patina on the copper statues, the swirling architecture that extends to every building in the city, no matter how large or small. Besides, you know if you go looking into magic again, at the message boards or if you go hunting down books, it’s likely that they’ll all say much the same thing: She Wakes, and her gift will blossom in you, but not Forever. She moves us like pawns, adjusting us Just So, no matter how small the slot She needs filled.

You’ve read it all before, have heard debates shouted in the streets or argued about in the back corner of classrooms. Magic moves through people as it wills, and no amount of pleading will keep it in you unless you’re a mage, and even then, that takes years of study. If the magic that led you here only existed long enough for you to make your home? Then you’ll have to be satisfied with that.

And you are, until that ache in your feet starts up again.

Late one evening, as you’re locking the back door of Rumoura’s, it floods through you fast enough to steal your breath. There’s no voice, no heavy hand on your shoulder, just a fierce pain that wells, threatening to bring tears to your eyes, until you turn to the right. You blink, surprise at the sudden and complete lack of pain, and take a ragged breath as you pocket the key to the door. When you feel steady enough, when your lungs no longer ache, you turn to the right and start walking.It takes you about ten minutes to realize you’re headed towards the main park, the one with ancient ruins of a half finished serpent tower peppered throughout its boundaries. You’ve walked through once, one golden afternoon with Mora, and you’ve been meaning to come back sometime on your lunch break. The past few days have been busy though, with a flood of students coming back to Arroven, stocking up on both casual and serious supplies from Mora’s shop.

Besides, there’s always been time to explore at your leisure now that you’re living here.

Two towering trees make a grand arch over the park entrance, and the slow swirl of damask leaves spiraling down from the branches make you laugh.

“Coincidence,” you murmur, a small smile curling your lips, and you walk into the park. The paths are well lit, even this late in the evening. This part of the city doesn’t boast about it’s lack of crime, but most people feel it. There always seems to be groups of people roaming: Elven tourists, hooking arms and laughing over cups of tea and coffee, Orcish artists and musicians, setting up on benches or street corners, busking for the simple sake of sharing their art with others. You wander through the park, expecting to simply take in the sights among the meandering attendees, but.. You haven’t seen anyone for the past few minutes. Your footsteps start to slow, wondering if you missed a sign somewhere and you have the nagging feeling that you just need to find someone.

Cautiously, you keep moving, the sudden bout of nervousness easing when you see someone up ahead. They’re sitting at the foot of one of the rather large blocks of toppled variscite, a dark hoodie hiding their face. Their shoulders are broad, and their clothes are a little more ragged than you see on people around here, but it gives off more of a well lived look than a dangerous one. They’re tapping the toes of their boots together, the tread of them worn smooth, and a low, masculine hum reaches your ears the closer you get. He stops as soon as you’re within speaking range though, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees. There’s a street lamp not too far behind him, and with the hood and the angle of the light, it casts most of his face in shadow. All you can spy is a pair of long, thorn-like ear gauges, curling out from the depths of his hood. They’re bigger around than a thimble and sharp looking from this far away.

“Nice evening, hm?” You say in greeting, hoping that if he doesn’t want to speak, he’ll just bob his head and let you move along. You haven’t run into any trouble in Arroven yet, but even with that strange ache, you don’t know that you can see your good luck lasting forever.

“A lovely one,” he mumbles and he leans back, hands grabbing at his knees and squeezing like he’s the nervous one.

That thought makes you stop, your eyes focusing a bit more intensely on what you can see of his skin. At first glance, his knuckles are bruised and paint splattered, nails split and a little too long, skin rough in texture. You blink, realizing that his knuckles aren’t bruised, his skin just mirrors the strange patterns of the variscite he’s sitting on, ink black and sea green, and the rough texture to his skin has pointy, scalloped edges.

The noise he makes isn’t a sigh, not quite, but he turns his face away, as if he expects you to ignore him, or run, and his hood edges back, just a sliver. The arch of his nose is straight as an arrow, and his nostrils are thin things, slashing upwards. His face has so many angles that it’s hard to tear your gaze away. You wish you could see his eyes, but he has them closed, like he’s still bracing himself for a blow.

“Are you.. Are you alright?” You ask, because it seems like the thing to say, with how tense he is, with how he’s waiting.

His eyes flash open, reflective in the depths of his hood. His mouth curls into a frown when he turns to look at you again. His eyes are still the eerie glam of a reflected light. “You’re not frightened?”

“Are you?” You ask, ignoring the thundering of your own heart. You’ve seen Trolls before, and even a few half-elves or half-orcs of varying descent, with skin that just barely reminds you of his, but.. You’re willing to bet he isn’t any of those.

“A bit?” He says, unsure, and the edge of a violet tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip. “It’s been a few centuries since any of you have made yourself so at home here that you stumbled across me.” He hunches his shoulders, looking away from you for the breadth of a second, before he can’t help himself. His eyes flick back to you, rove over you from head to toe, almost greedily. “You felt a call then, an itch?”

“An ache,” you correct, staring at him with wide eyes. Centuries? The long lived races don’t often mention the time they have over others. It’s rude at the best of times, and most of them are terrible sticklers for manners.

“At home here, you said?” You ask, knowing that something about him seems terribly familiar.

Your question makes him pause, brow lifting before he finally pushes himself to his feet. He unfolds, all long, heavy limbs, but doesn’t move from his spot on the variscite. “M-.. Arroven. You do think of the city as home?” He breathes in, hesitantly lifting his chin. “Not to be rude,” he says, a little awkwardly, “but you smell like Arroven.”

All at once, the old poem flickers back into your mind, the one about hearts and desires and winter. The oldest folktales of the first cities, those built around the serpent towers, all seemed to carry the poem with them. It was both a warning and a blessing to those that wished to stay. You’d have to hunt down the entirety of it, but the ending couplet?

The city promises, you’ll be most adored So can you, will you, join the hoard?

You bite down fiercely on the desire to blurt out dragon, but he must sense it, might even see the aborted twist of your lips.

“..you’ve figured it out, then?” He asks, and when his shoulders droop, you spy the barest edge of a wing, tucked in close to his back. “If being in my immediate vicinity is a problem, I quite understand, but please stay in the city. You-” He blows out a breath, large hands fussing about with his hoodie pocket. Everything about him reads awkward, almost shy. “You’re safe here, I promise.” He breathes in again, like he can’t resist, eyes falling closed when his violet tongue appears, there and gone before you can blink. “You belong,” he murmurs and tangles his fingers in the material of his hoodie, like he would reach out if he didn’t stop himself.

Inexplicably, you wonder if Mora knows about the city patron. If you should waltz into the shop tomorrow and announce: I’ve officially been welcomed to the hoard. ...Sort of. Before you lose your nerve, before you can bite your tongue, you ask. “An official welcome involves more drinks though, doesn’t it?”

-Arroven, the dragon, the founder of the city, is sitting across the table from you, slouching in a barstool that has a difficult time encompassing his enormous body. Despite his height, and the way his hood shadows his face in a frankly ominous way, no one is paying him any attention. One of the bartender’s had slid a drink list your way as soon as you’d claimed the seats, but she hadn’t even glanced at Arroven. In fact, you think her eyes might have skipped right over his seat. It’s a little disconcerting, seeing as he’d claimed that Wink was one of the best bars around, but if they ignore him, if they can’t see him?

“What’ll it be?” A different bartender asks, a tall elf, with his hair plaited back in a complicated braid. He has pleasant features, though he looks a little flustered, a lock or two of dark hair escaping his braid. You think he might be on the newer end when he fumbles a bit with the card you slide his way, olive skin flushing when his fingers nearly touch yours.

“Uh, the special,” you finally decide, expecting him to turn to Arroven so he can order as well. Your jaw drops when he whirls, not even bothering. “Ar- hey, wait!”

The elf turns back, smiling vaguely, looking even more tense now that he can’t leave straight off, but he doesn’t seem to see Arroven when you gesture towards him. His gaze zips right through the neckline of Arroven's hoodie, straight on through to the next customer.

Perturbed, you lean in close to Arroven, heart skipping a beat due to his proximity. He smells faintly of musty books, and stone, cooling in the early evening after baking in the sunshine of a warm day. "Didn’t you want something?” You force yourself to ask, unwilling to let the elf leave without at least checking with him first. He doesn’t have to get anything, but you’d hoped he would, if only so you can spend a while longer in his company. Maybe the flirtatious tone you’d struck had made him uncomfortable?

For a moment Arroven hunches further into his sweatshirt, and you think your fears might hold weight. You are a little close, and you still don’t know each other terribly well yet. You straighten, hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you feel and Arroven heaves out a sigh. He finally tugs back his hood, though the elf behind the bar doesn’t even blink. “Just a.. a Beetle Wing," he mutters, large, sharp teeth catching the light. The elf nods, though his gaze is still on you when Arroven speaks, and turns away to go make the drinks.

Without the darkness of night, without his hood shadowing his face, you see that his eyes aren’t permanently reflective. In the dim lights of the bar, they’re a lovely shade of blue-green that matches well with his skin. What you thought were ear gauges were actually his horns, thick and curving, and trailing after the clean arch of his jaw. His ears are heavy with plugs though, and they clink against his horns when he turns, noticing that you’re staring. The scent of hot stone grows stronger when you smile at him, and then he huffs, looking away and running a hand through his already tousled, short dark hair. You catch sight of scales on his scalp and then blink. It’s not hair on his head, it’s feathers. His eyebrows are much the same, in miniature. Fine, thin feathers, as ink dark as the scalloped edges of his scales.

“So,” you tease, hoping your questions won’t come off as prying. “Can the rest of the people in here see you at all? You said that it’d been a while since anyone had felt at home enough here to stumble across you, but.. I don’t know exactly if that means Magicis is at work, or something else.”

Arroven breathes in, glancing up at the filigreed round sign hanging over the bar. There’s a single neon eye in the middle, opening and closing on loop under the word WINK. Even with the noise of people talking, and the music coming steadily from the small corner of a dance floor, you can still hear the faint buzz and click of the neon switching over. “Not many,” he finally confesses. “If the proprietor were here, she would see me, but she’s been here for a.. For a while.” She’s one of the long lived races then. Arroven turns, taking a quick look over the other patrons, tense, as if he expects one of them to approach. “The couple near the dance floor there,” he finally says, pointing out two women leaning into each other, stealing sips of each other’s drinks. “The orcish fellow on his phone. They can see me, though I doubt they’ll realize who I am. Just living here doesn’t make someone part of the hoard, though it’s always a step in the right direction.” For a second, he looks like he might let the subject drop, but then he cringes, glancing at your eyes before he looks away. “I don’t- I don’t steal from the people living here, whether they’re part of my hoard or not, even if they don’t realize I’m around. Even if they can’t see me.”

That’s reassuring, though you hadn’t planned on diving into that topic.

“What then,” you ask, leaning your chin in the palm of your hand, and your elbow on the bar, “makes someone part of your hoard?”

Arroven’s rough looking scales don’t shine, but the neon light over the both of you shifts again from blue, to pink, and back. It was already hard for you to take your eyes off of him, knowing who he is, attracted to the nervous quirk of his lips, but now? The magic that you’ve only ever felt the after effects of, the strange aches and coincidences, it feels like more in this moment. More than a soft nudge in the correct direction. Arroven is sitting at your side, winking neon sign a spotlight over both your heads.

Hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, Arroven lifts his hand, reaching out, and taps once, softly, against your sternum. “It sounds esoteric, but the only explanation I have is that all of you feels like you should be here. From the way you smell, to the echoes of your voice or your footsteps along the pavement...” Arroven swallows, and then inhales, letting his hand fall away from your chest as his eyes close. He doesn’t pull his hand back completely though, just lets his hand hover over your thigh. “It’s always the desires of the heart that bring my hoard home,” he murmurs and starts to sway towards you.

There’s a soft clink on the bar, your drinks being set carefully in front of you and Arroven. When you look, the bartender still hasn’t noticed the city patron, the dragon, but the drink is still clearly set aside for him. Your card is placed very quickly next to your glass, the elf flashing you a much more jovial smile than earlier.

“Your drink has been taken care of,” he explains, but doesn’t stay behind to point out who might have bought them. When you look, Arroven is sitting straight up in his seat, and his guilty expression is answer enough.

“I was supposed to be welcoming you to the city,” he murmurs, turning in his stool so he can take hold of his glass. The liquid inside is iridescent, shifting from what looks like violet, to a strange umber. You’re willing to bet that it’s more blue and green, but the neon light isn’t doing it too many favors. Arroven lifts his cup, patiently waiting for you to do the same and then quietly toasts your arrival. The clink of the glasses rings in your ears with the clarity of a bell, echoes lasting far longer than the noise itself.

“Goodness,” you say, coughing when you finish your swallow. Your drink is a little stronger than you thought it would be, heat already spiralling down into your chest and filling your belly. “So, uh, the city blessings seem to be true, I take it?” You don’t look at him as you speak, afraid he’ll cringe away from the mention of them.

“Blessings?” Arroven asks, and then you have to search up the poem. He sounds like he doesn't know, but they're supposed to be as old as the cities. Or near as.

“Sometimes they vary, from city to city. But most of the time they have almost the same structure. The same meaning,” you explain, pulling up the poem on your phone. “Hoarding hearts, keeping people safe in winter. The, uh-” You turn it his way, but he doesn’t take the phone from you, just reads the words out of the palm of your hand, brows raised by the time he gets to the end.

“‘Sinking talons into your thighs?’” Arroven’s slit pupils grow wide, nearly drowning his iris in darkness. He straightens, taking another hasty gulp of his drink. He laughs when he’s finished, nerves finally beginning to ease. “That’s how they’re translating it these days?” He asks, but you notice his eyes lingering on your hands, drifting down to your knees and the way you’re sitting.

You pass a good portion of the evening, teetering back and forth with conversation about the city now, and how it was when Arroven had first settled. For all that he’s wearing modern clothes and walking on two feet, you can see him in a larger, more draconic figure, delving into the variscite mines and overseeing the people that had decided to settle under his watch.

He’s just as enthralled with your stories though, hanging onto your every word, even though he’s still clearly a little anxious. He abandons his hunched and wary demeanor as soon as you start talking about the magic though. All the little aches and nudges and postcards that had led a clear path to his city. To him.

You insist on buying the next round when he makes to wave down the bartender, who is still completely oblivious to his presence, but Arroven stops you with a hand on your wrist.

"Another time," he says, just loud enough for you to hear. "A welcome isn't a single round, is it?" He asks, a tentative smile revealing a small glimpse of those sharp teeth.

You could argue. You have the feeling that he would let it go if you pushed, but the smile sways you. It's the first time he's spoken without lowering his eyes mid sentence. You accept the drink, and try not to stare when his smile grows, shy and small and all the more endearing for it.

You both pretend not to notice each other grinning after that.

It’s just past 1 AM by the time the both of you leave the bar, only slightly unsteady after a few drinks and a few plates of bar food. Warmth floods you when Arroven’s hand finds your elbow, just barely keeping you from stumbling off the edge of the sidewalk and into the street. All it takes is a single stroke of his thumb over your arm for you to throw aside any worries you might have about flirting.

He's reciprocated, in quiet ways, for the last hour or so. He’s leaned into you whenever you lowered your voice, had let his eyes linger on your hands and thighs after you brought up the poem.. The worst thing he can do is say no.

“Come to my place?” You blurt and Arroven stutters, hand spasming in his grip on your arm. For a heart wrenching moment, you think he might turn you down, but he finally bobs his head, gauges clicking against his horns with the motion. “...You said you’d been out of the loop with the people living here,” you start, mouth dry, wondering if he knows what you’re trying to ask, but still a little too sober to spell it out. “I’m asking, I’m not just asking you to come visit. I-”

Arroven stops your worried speech with a slightly awkward smile. “I know what you’re getting at,” he finally says with a gentle huff of a laugh, hand sliding down your arm until he can twine his fingers about yours. His breath hitches, and for a moment you think he might stop, might pull away. “I- I would love to,” he says quietly, and squeezes until his fingernails gently prick the back of your hand.

Wordless with triumph, you flash another smile his way, heart pounding as you keep hold of his hand, ventral scales dry, but slick against your palm.

“The walk back to my place is a bit of a long one from here,” you confess, glancing at the handful of cabs loitering along the street. “Seeing as you got the drinks, I can—” You nearly trip over your own feet when Arroven tugs you back, keeping you from approaching any of the cabs.

“I don’t.. Fit very well,” he says, apologetically. “If you would rather take one, I can, but if you aren’t opposed..” Arroven’s wings, still tucked in flat along his back, quirk and stretch, spreading wide enough that he nearly clips another leaving bar patron in the face. They don’t move, don’t see him, but they blink, as if a gust of wind just hit them, and shield their eyes until they’re well past you and Arroven.

His statement leaves you staring, jaw beginning to grow slack. “Are you saying you can fly us back to my place?” Your eyes trace his wings again, the fragile veins spider webbing across the membranes. It’s not that you thought they were ornamental, but it’s one thing to see them, and another to know you’ll get to witness their use first hand.

Arroven’s shoulders start to hunch, but his eyes flick down to your hand, fingers still curled around his. He smiles instead. “Yes?”

You glance at the cabs, and then back to Arroven’s tall figure and broad shoulders. As much as you’d like being pressed up against him, trapped in the backseat of an uncomfortable cab isn’t quite what you’d pictured, and he’s already nervous enough. That settles things. You nod, just the once and lift your chin to meet his eyes. “Flying it is then! We can’t have you getting stuck in one of those, can we?”

While Arroven walks you through how he’s going to pick you up, how he’s going to hold onto you, some of the people on the sidewalk start to watch you. You’re nodding readily at what they assume to be empty air. You spare a second to wonder if they’ll see you vanish, or if they’ll be able to see the equivalent of a magical wind carrying you away. That would cause quite a stir, wouldn't it? You forget to ask Arroven about it though when he holds out his arm, waiting patiently for you to step closer, fingers gentle in their continued grip on your hand.

He’s still giving you the chance to turn away.

You take a breath, thinking back to the nerves you’d felt, packing up a bag and deciding to visit somewhere based on coincidences and the hearsay of magic. You think of Mora, and the apartment that feels more like home to you than nearly anything else ever has. The way everything fits here, every piece of the city you've set foot in branded on your brain, clearer than any map. You step close, eagerly letting Arroven curl his arm around your back and then lift you up in a bridal carry. His forearms and biceps tense, bracing you as he prepares, and then the snap of his wings flaring open makes your heart jump before he leaps. His wings catch a sudden breeze swooping into the street, allowing it to lift the both of you well clear of the ground before he starts to flap. The slight dip in elevation as he finds his rhythm makes you clutch a little tighter, but Arroven doesn’t complain. In fact, when you glance at him, he seems to be holding back a smug little smile.

It’s cold when he finally crests over the top of the nearest buildings. Between the chill, and the fast growing height between you and the ground, you have no issues absolutely clinging to Arroven’s neck. You don't feel like you're going to fall, but it's still safer than sitting meekly in his arms, isn't it? You try to twist your head about to see everything below you, but another rush of cold wind makes you squint. It takes a moment before you realize Arroven isn't moving though, he's simply keeping the both of you suspended in midair.

“Your address?” Arroven asks as soon as you start to frown, his voice rumbling against your ear.

“Ah.” You give it to him, laughing when you meet his still-shy gaze. “I suppose that’s a little important.”

While the walk would have left you both a little tired, the flight is a fairly short one. You have just enough time to relish all the places you’re pressed in close, to enjoy what little warmth you’ve managed to keep with the wind seeping through your clothes, when Arroven lands in front of your quiet building. There are no witnesses but the dim streetlights, the sound of his flapping wings muffled by the mist beginning to roll through the city. Arroven lowers you almost reluctantly, fingers slow to uncurl so you can step down onto the pavement. He takes a step back as soon as you do, like he needs the space between you to think.

“Still up for coming inside?” You ask, giving him the same chance he’d given you earlier. You jerk a thumb at the locked door, searching for your keys with your other hand.

Arroven’s head jerks forward almost too fast, the dark feathers on his skull prickling upwards. His wings snap closed, tight against his back again as soon as you unlock your door. It’s only mildly nerve wracking, having him follow you up to your place, and you think it might be because of how nervous he’s acting. He flinches away from the wall when he barely brushes it, almost tripping over his own boots as he goes up the stairs. He’s been shy from the get-go, but this-

“Arroven,” you murmur, turning to look up at him, hand pausing on your door handle. “Is something wrong?”

He breathes out, turning his head so the plugs in his earlobes clack against his horns, blue-green eyes roving over the hall. “No,” he says slowly, forcing himself to stop hunching into his hoodie, to take his wringing hangs out of the front pocket. “I’ve just, it’s just that I keep-” He stays where he is, brow furrowing for all of five seconds before he’s huffing and stepping into your space. When Arroven leans down, his pupils are needle thin, that sunshine warm smell suffusing the air. He was summoning up courage, you realize, just in time to let your eyes fall closed as he cradles your jaw with both hands. They dwarf your human face, his fingertips easily reaching all the way to the back of your neck, but his touch may well be the softest thing you’ve ever known. His kiss is more the brush of his mouth over the shape of yours, a slip of a taste when his tongue follows the curve of your lower lip. He hums, softly, but when you kiss him back? When your tongue touches his and you try to stand on your tip-toes to deepen things, when you stumble a step closer—Arroven’s groan is gratifying. Achingly slowly, he draws his hands down the side of your neck, leaving you free to control the pace of the kiss. His thumbs trace your collarbone, slow, deep circles that make you wish you weren’t standing out here, fully clothed and too warm.

You pull away, licking your lips and glancing down the hall. There’s no one there, despite your pulse loud in your ears and your breath heaving, surely loud enough to wake even those in the very depths of sleep. Arroven’s breath hitches, and for a moment he sways, ready to chase you for another kiss. “Wait, wait,” you say softly, trying not to smile too wide when his eyes flicker open, dark pupils growing larger. He starts to straighten, embarrassment lifting his shoulders. “Maybe we should get in my house first?” You rush to say, not wanting to potentially scar one of your neighbors, but not wanting him to rush away either.

His mouth opens on reflex, and then closes, slipping into a gentle smile. “Yes,” he says, and then you have to swallow, watching his eyes slide down to your hands and then further down to your knees.

You get your door open before he touches you again, but you’re only a few steps inside when Arroven reaches for you. He strokes the back of his knuckles down your forearm, fingertips only barely grazing your hips. “I’ve missed this,” he whispers, one of his fingers catching two of yours. “Touching,” he explains, the edge of his thumbnail stroking over your wrist and the base of your thumb and back. “Being close to, well…” He breathes in when you step into him, and grows as still as a statue when you balance against him, reaching around his middle to swing the front door shut. This close, Arroven still smells of sunshine, but there’s a sweeter, crisper undertone that makes you want to close your eyes to savor it, to breathe it in. He’s nearly vibrating with you pressed close though, hands hovering somewhere over the middle of your back, trying to keep himself still. He’s waiting for you to give him the go ahead, still caught up in his nerves... Or maybe just manners?

You grin, gently pushing yourself back a step before you smooth out your expression. “Part of your hoard?” You wonder aloud, but then you can’t keep yourself straight faced any longer, wanting him to recognize the words for the gentle teasing they are. You smile. “How about you touch me then?”

Arroven huffs, pleased, and then you quickly discover how needy he can be. He kisses you all the way down the hall, his wings nearly catching on picture frames, hands trembling in their stroking over your back. He keeps pausing at the top of your hips, like he wants to let his hands drift lower, but focuses on his mouth instead, mouth and teeth moving from your lips, to your jaw and down to your neck. You don’t think he’s willing to risk going further though, knowing that it would likely end up with both of you unbalanced and on the floor instead of the bed.

“Distracted?” You ask, reaching blindly around your doorframe, searching for the lightswitch as Arroven’s tongue flickers over the pulse on the left side of your neck. Your own breathing stutters for a moment, heat building in your veins. “You keep-”

Arroven’s breath puffs over the damp patch he’s left on your skin as he lifts his head, violet tongue sliding along the sharp points of his teeth. “Hardly,” Arroven interrupts, and his wings tense when you hook your fingers into the neck of his hoodie, drawing him further into the room. Your fingers find the lightswitch, the soft ring of the bulb lighting strangely loud in the room. “You’re all I can see. All I can focus on. ..am I missing something? Cues?” He asks, voice gone lower when you give his hoodie a fierce tug. He follows, all too willingly, fingers flexing around your hips.

“Hardly,” you say back, teasing as you back up towards the bed. You pull when you lean back, expecting him to let you fall, to fall with you, but his wings flare again. He catches himself on the blankets, hands to either side of your body, the blue-green of his eyes swallowed by his pupils as he takes the sight of you in. “Still good?” You ask after a moment, because he’s staring, because he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Tell me,” Arroven blurts, arms tensing as his fingers twist into the blankets. “Tell me what to do,” he pleads, gaze catching on every sliver of bared skin he can find. “I’m.. finding it a little difficult to think. All I want to do is make you happy, make you want to-” He stops, feathered brows drawing together as he considers his words.

You arch an eyebrow, your hands stilling just shy of his chest. The way he’d hesitated, his flighty touches? they all make a bit more sense now. He’d asked you to stay in the city, had mentioned your belonging here. If you wanted to leave, if you insisted on stopping, Arroven wouldn’t keep you. But he wants you to stay here.

“Little to no thinking,” you muse, unable to keep from smiling as he hangs onto your every word. “Undress me,” you finally decide, and his nostrils flare before he sets to work. He’s terribly careful, every brush of his scaled knuckles whisper-soft and cool against your skin, but his breathing is ragged by the time he’s finished and your heart has sped in response. You’re tempted to make him undress himself too. In fact, he would probably do just as you asked, but you’re too impatient to get your hands back on him. “Hoodie off,” you declare, half amazed that he’s obeying your whims, “and lay down on the bed.”

Arroven listens immediately, tucking his wings in close before he’s pulling off the hoodie, careful around the curl of his horns and the arch of his wings. He isn’t wearing a shirt, but with his wings, you understand why. Most of those with wings don’t favor mass produced clothes or modern fashion. He’s on the bed before you can finish pushing yourself back up, jeans low on his hips, pale belly and chest all the brighter compared to the black and teal pattern of his scales. His legs spread reflexively when you stand, jeans growing taut when you reach for him. Your hands are steady, even if your pulse isn’t, but Arroven doesn’t seem to care. He looks blissed out from this much touch alone, jaw gone slack, eyelids heavy as you unbutton and unzip his jeans. He exhales when you pull at his jeans, eyes zeroed in on your face.

He’s thicker than he is long, and as pale as his abdomen, save for a violet tinge that makes you think of his tongue. Nestled as he is in the ‘v’ of his unzipped jeans, it’s all you can do to keep yourself from stroking him straight away, or even leaning down to-

“Maybe I can think,” Arroven says hoarsely. He lifts one of his hands, gentleman-like, offering it to you palm up. “Let me?” He asks, though you’re not entirely sure what he wants you to let him do.

Mannerly, you can’t help but think, lips twitching as you place your hand in his. The older races are, generally. It’s something to fall back on if they’re nervous or unsure. Not that most of them would ever admit to it.

“Are you thinking I should leave your boots on?” You get one knee on the bed before you pause, glancing back at his legs still hanging over the edge.

Arroven hums, but his grip on your fingers tightens for a second, not wanting to let go. “I’ll worry about those later,” he says, and then inhales sharply when you straddle his lap, cock pulsing as you settle against him. If he wants to let his jeans tangle around his boots, you’re not going to complain. It’s a bit of a thrill, knowing that he’s too impatient to fuss with them.

“Boots on, then. Now, what am I supposed to let you do?” You lean forward, drawing an aimless, spiraling pattern from his abdomen up to his ribcage. He’s much warmer now, with you astride his thighs and his wings trapped beneath him on the bed. It looks uncomfortable, but he hasn’t mentioned them once.

Hesitant, Arroven’s hold on you loosens, and then his hand drops to your thigh, eyebrows furrowing when he finally speaks. “Sit on my face?”

The brevity of it, the tone of uncertainty, makes your mouth twitch. “Jumping right in there, aren’t we? And here I thought you were kind of shy.”

“I am!” Arroven blurts and then covers his face with one hand, laughing quietly at himself. “I am,” he says, a bit more composed when he lets his hand fall away. “Though shyness has hardly ever been a factor in my favor. What is it humans say? Better to rip off the bandage?”

You crawl halfway up his body, smiling wider when he forgets to breathe. “Had to get the anxiety out of the way?” You brush a kiss over his chin, eyes catching on the curl of his horns. He’s moved so carefully that you’ve yet to feel the sharp points of them catching your skin, but if you sit on his face… You ignore Arroven’s disappointed sigh as you turn away to stroke the pad of your thumb over his right horn, wondering whether he has any feeling in them. They’re as ink dark as some of his scales and twisted in a lovely spiral that perfectly circles his pointed, gauged ears. Arroven isn’t reacting like he has sensation in them, though he reacts to every other little touch of you against his scales. “You’re going to have to help me balance,” you confess, sitting back against his middle. “Because even though they aren’t terribly sharp, I rather think I’ll be risking my thighs. Don’t you?”

Arroven stares, blinking, and then he looks horrified, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he’s been close to a human, if ever.

“I’m not against this,” you add, grinning, “just to be clear.”

For a moment, all he says in response is a strangled sounding “Ah,” before he blinks again, glancing up at the ceiling. “I can... I will help. I’ll be careful. More than careful.”

It takes a few moments, and some adjustment, before you’re finally able to settle over his face. Your heart starts to pound a little faster when Arroven opens his mouth, those dagger-like teeth flashing in the dim light. His hands are strong though, curling around your thigh and bracing your hip. He’s too tall for you to do more than help balance against his chest, though you can see that he’s still wonderfully hard, and his cock is starting to leak. You’d love nothing more than to take him in hand, to taste him, but then Arroven nips your inner thigh, and you stop paying attention to his cock and start focusing on sensation. Your fingers curl at the first hot swipe of his tongue, pressing a little hard into the ventral scales over his chest, and the next slow lick has your eyes falling closed.

It’s not easy to stay steady, to keep your arms and legs from quivering the longer he licks and slurps. Arroven sucks small kisses over your thighs and the left cheek of your ass, his teeth only ever the barest pressure on your skin. His horns graze you, but he’s true to his word in keeping you balanced. The texture of them against your skin is just something more to feel, to enjoy as he tilts his head this way and that. Pleasure builds, faster by far than the magic that built in your veins, that left you aching with the need to come to the city. If that ache had been anything close to what you’re feeling now, warm, and slick, with the heady pressure of Arroven’s fingers on your skin, you would have picked up on the breadcrumb trail a lot sooner.

“You’re go- going to push me over the edge,” you warn with a gasp, legs starting to tremble. He moves you in response, starts to rock your hips so all he has to do is stick out his tongue, but your hands are shaking now too, cluing him into your urgency. Arroven shakes his head from side to side, a little wild, the plugs in his earlobes clattering against his horns with every shift. You bite down on your lower lip, orgasm rolling swiftly over you and nearly choke on the curse that wants to leave your mouth. He keeps you there, aching and weak, until you pat awkwardly at his chest, releasing you reluctantly with one last obscene noise of satisfaction.

You sit next to him, still a little unsteady and grin down at his pleased, messy face. “Now, unless you have any other lovely thoughts to share - your turn?”

His rough sounding “Please,” has your libido jumping back into overdrive, but it’s safety that has you slipping off the bed to dig out a bottle of lube from your things. He’s half pushed himself back up when you come back to the bed, resting on his elbows, fingers twisted gently into the blankets. His wings are partially stretched out now too, one of them reaching all the way to the end of your bed.

“Are your wings alright?” You ask, wondering if you should throw away the idea of climbing back into his lap, lube already pooling in the palm of your hand.

Arroven smiles again though, waving away your worry. “Tense,” he offers, as explanation. “I was more focused on you, but they’re good. I promise.” His cock bobs as you approach, and then he lays back down, irises vanishing into the ether of his pupils.

“If you promise, I suppose I’ll let it go.” You close the lube, only a bit ungracefully, and toss it to the side, climbing back onto the bed and straddling his thighs.

Your first wet squeeze of his cock has him whimpering, your hand barely fitting around him at his thinnest point. When you stroke, he bucks nearly unseating you until he claps his hands onto your thighs, muttering a hasty apology. Despite being tempted to laugh, you narrow your eyes, squeezing him just a little harder. “You don’t have to be still, but move a little slower for now, hm?”

“Of course,” he rushes to say, and then his jaw goes slack when you press him against you. “Oh,” he breathes, nails pricking your skin as you hold him in place. You rub yourself against his cock, up and back down, a slow undulation that makes you tense, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm.

And then you straighten, pressing the head of his cock into you. The first slow stretch of him inside you echoes the steady ache of magic, has your breath rushing from your lungs in a gasp. “Fuck,” you breathe and then glance at Arroven’s face. His head is tilted back, mouth open to reveal all of those sharp teeth, and his eyes are closed tight. You think he might be keeping himself from looking at you, might be trying to stem the urge to buck again, to move at all. You tilt your hips and press yourself down though, wiggling, and then Arroven is cursing. You don’t recognize the language, but you understand the sentiment behind it, the pleading tone that softens the edges of the words. It’s hard to concentrate, to keep yourself from getting distracted when all you want to do is sink down every inch of him and then just lay on his chest, trying to catch your breath. “Too much?” You manage to ask, but all Arroven does is shake his head and then carefully ease his grip on your thighs, stroking down to your knees and back up. Your legs, among other things, are definitely going to ache after this.

You ride Arroven until he’s a shaking, breathless mess, until he can’t help but tense his thighs every time he bottoms out, and you can barely stay up. You reach up, fingers just barely brushing his chin to make him pay attention. “Fuck me,” you command and his wings stretch to either side with force. You nearly scream when he starts fucking into you with purpose, and as lovely as your neighbors have been, you have the feeling they’re going to complain at some point. Every thrust has you tightening up on reflex, still shaky from your earlier orgasm, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself upright. A few moments later and Arroven arches as he comes inside you, clutching tightly to you until he’s finished, breath deep and rasping. You don’t wait. Carefully you flop down next to him, smiling tiredly against the blankets. You’re not sure your legs will carry you for the next hour or so, but it’s hardly something to complain about.

“Do you give all newcomers to the hoard such a.. Vigorous welcome?” You ask, laughing, your voice rough, not really expecting him to answer. Even though he’s clearly a little more comfortable, even though he’s been clinging to your skin and he looks wrecked by all the activity. Arroven nearly chokes.

“No,” he says immediately. “Moments like this,” he murmurs, reaching out for you, ventral scales on his palm smooth over the apple of your cheek, “moments like this are few and far between.” There’s a low rumble of noise from him when you roll close to brush another kiss over his lips, eyes fluttering closed. It’s all you can do not to laugh again, not to quote the poem at him or interrupt the soft moment. It still sits in the back of your mind though, sweet and lilting.

the city is hoarding hearts

it draws them in, with coin, with art

reflects their dreams on mirrored glass

sings siren songs to catch them fast

the lights?

they gleam, they glitter, bright

it steals a piece, with every sight

roots get worn

they split, they splinter

'but i'll keep you warm, in the depth of winter'

the city whispers, it cajoles, it cries

it'll sink it's talons into your thighs

it tears, it scrapes, it batters the unwary

but oh, the love it gifts, to those who tarry

the city promises, you'll be most adored

so can you, will you, join the hoard?

#exophilia #dragon boyfriend #dragon x reader #monster fucker #monster lover #d.darling writes

360 notes · View notes

nohoney · 4 years ago

Text

You and Me (And Him)

notes: Part 2 of the Us Series, also posted on my ao3

characters: Dabi/Touya Todoroki, Takami Keigo/Hawks

warnings: 18+, drug use, toxic relationships, open relationships, angsty-ish, threesome

summary:

“If this happens… will it be just sex or will it be more?”

Golden eyes stare back at you. “It can be whatever you want it to be (Name).”

You scrutinize him under your gaze for a little bit, silent for a few moments before asking, “Will you kiss me?”

“Of course.”

Touya had introduced you to Keigo when your relationship was just two months old. You remember being astounded by his eyes at first, they were so bright and friendly as opposed to Touya’s which were piercing and intimidating. Keigo was such an easy going guy, his manner of speaking and his certain lilts when he talked made you feel comfortable immediately despite how nervous you were at first. He fit easily into your life, a friend that you knew you could rely on for almost anything.

Where Touya was apathetic and aloof, Keigo was magnetic and charming.

It was a wonder how those two got along, you had to figure that the ‘opposites attract’ concept worked out for them. You’re not certain what the turning point was in their relationship that Keigo received permission to address Touya by his birth name, but obviously it meant a lot to your boyfriend and Keigo seemed touch to be apart of his inner circle. Aside from pills they ingested and the powders they snorted that bonded them together, they had a genuine friendship.

It goes to say that Touya and Keigo are close, and they’re close enough where apparently there’s an option of sharing you between the two of them.

“I gave you permission to fuck who you want doll, Keigo is not the worst person you could choose. In fact, I’d like it if he were the one to keep you warm for me.”

You liked to believe that you and Keigo had a strictly platonic friendship, but Touya had essentially ruined that perspective for you now.

Had Keigo always felt that way from the very start or was it gradual during your budding friendship? Did he want to be your second boyfriend or was he looking for something a little more casual?

Those were all important questions but there was one that you needed answered first before you did anything with Keigo.

You were working up the nerve to ask Touya this ever since that day when he fucked you while Keigo was right beside you. He sat on the edge of his couch with his laptop on the coffee table, reading over an article needed for one of his classes. Drug dealer aside, he was actually a good student, breezing through his classes easily. Though you know that the only reason why he would finish up so quickly was so that it wouldn’t interfere as much with his dealing. As opposed to Keigo who liked to sit down and really make sure that he retained the knowledge.

“Touya, can I ask you something?” you ask from your end of the couch, shifting your feet towards Touya until they were on his lap. He props your feet in his lap and he strokes his hands over your shins and calves, his expression bored but attentive as he turns to look at you. “That thing you said before about Keigo wanting to… do stuff with me. You weren’t just saying that so that I’d bother you less when you go out right?”

When you go out and sell to your whores. You want to add that part but you know it’s best not to bring it up; you’ve already had this conversation with him and it’s too soon to open it back up again.

“I said it because I know that Keigo will treat you right doll. I trust him and I know that he’d be good to you.” Touya answers honestly.

“You’re good to me.” you tease, lightly nudging your foot up into his hand.

Touya smirks at you and crawls his way over to your side of the sofa. He moves to make you sit on his lap, your legs straddling him as he leans back against the sofa. Your hands touch his shoulders before drawing down, your index fingers tracing his chest beneath the white, sleeveless shirt that he’s wearing. “I’m fucking great to you doll. I’m so fucking great to you that I wouldn’t mind if you fucked my closest friend.”

You grind down on Touya’s lap, his cock stirring beneath the dark sweats that he’s wearing and moan when he thrusts up into you. Ghosting your lips over his, you tease him just a little bit when he tries to go in for a kiss and pull back with a giggle. Touya isn’t having it though, putting his hand on the back of your neck and keeping you in place so that he can go in for a proper kiss. You like when he asserts himself like this over you and renders you helpless before him, it gets you going. “I wouldn’t mind if you fucked me right now baby.” you purr.

The discussion is tabled for now as you ride Touya’s cock and he leaves you a shaking mess afterwards.

Keigo comes to the Touya’s apartment later on during the week. You walk in after finishing up at your part time job to see them splitting an eightball between the two of them at the dinner table. You’d never done more than a gram of coke before and even then you usually split up that gram with one another person. “Geez, what’s the special occasion?” you ask as you set your purse down and shrug off your sweater.

“Nothing in particular, just thought of relaxing today.” Touya answers as if it’s the normal thing in the world. Relaxing with a six pack of beers with the boys, that’s normal; relaxing with an eightball of cocaine with the boys, that’s not.

But this is your life with Touya as your boyfriend and as long as he or Keigo don’t overdose on you, then everything should be fine. You know that this definitely is not their first time and you once again remind yourself about the gap between you and the boys.

“Dove, do you want a line?” Keigo asks as he uses a credit card to cut three white lines on the surface of one of the dinner plates. You don’t think it’s really a question because he pretty much made a third one anyway for you to take. He’s waving you over, an expectant smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to say no to. Instead of sitting in the chair next to him, Keigo pulls you onto his lap instead and hands you a rolled up bill.

Just one line. you think to yourself as you inhale the powder through the bill.

That one line ends up becoming ten instead, very measly compared to the boys but considered a lot for yourself.

Touya and Keigo pretty much polish off the rest of the eightball and talk amongst themselves at the dining table still while you moved yourself over to the couch. Laying on your stomach and facing away from the boys, you idly scroll through your social media on your phone to keep yourself entertained. Your brain is a little wired so you’re just waiting for the coke to pass through your system and then you can sleep properly. From behind, a hand goes underneath your shirt and slowly smooths up your spine. It feels pleasant and your body shudders in response, pushing back against the hand as a silent beg for more. You’re surprised that Touya is massaging you, most of the time he tends to just skim the tips of his fingers all over your back until you fall asleep. Deft fingers press into the right spots on your back and you can’t help but let out a quiet moan along with a whined out, “Thank you baby.”

“You’re welcome dove.”

You turn back to see that Keigo had been the one massaging you while Touya just remained at the table, watching from his seat with eyes full of mirth and a grin to match.

How blatant of the both of them.

And that’s only the beginning.

Every instance Keigo is in your presence, he begins to invade your personal space more often and pushes the boundaries of your friendship into something more. Touches to your waist or the small of your back, quick pecks to your cheek or your lips, sometimes putting his hand on your thigh, even his pet names become a little more affectionate like little dove or songbird. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable per se but you’ve yet to really come to a conclusion about what you want to do about him.

You know that if you don’t say anything about it, if you don’t verbalize a ‘no’ or ‘stop’, Keigo’s just going to keep on going. After all, if you don’t stop one's actions they assume that it’s okay to keep on going and possibly to do more.

It appears that Touya’s getting a little impatient with your inaction, confronting you about it after fucking in the backseat of his car one day.

“So are you going to let Keigo smash or what (Name)?”

“I… don’t know. You and me and him, don't you think it will be weird?”

"Only if you make it weird."

You lay naked together rather comfortably despite the small space, your cheek resting against his chest where his heart is beating so close to your ear while he’s petting your head. It’s quiet between the two of you, just trying to catch your breath before having to get dressed and dropped off to your own bed. You want to be in Touya’s bed or have him sleep in yours, but he has a drop off to replenish his inventory later on and wants you where he knows you’re safe. It’s sweet how he doesn’t risk you like that, he only allows you to know so much. Maybe that’s part of the reason why he’s pushing Keigo onto you, to keep an eye on you when he’s not able to.

Touya loves having you in his sights, doesn’t like when you stray too far from him, even if he doesn’t show it on his face. You know by his tells, squeezed just a little too tight in a hug or the constant question he asks just right before you leave ‘are you sure?’ or the way his jaw clenches just a smidge too tight when you want to sleep in your own bed instead of his.

He pats the back of your head twice to let you know to get up.

Touya’s quicker to get dressed and you move to the side so that he can crawl to the driver’s side first. You’re still pulling on your pants when you feel his large hand wrap around your bicep to get your attention. “Baby?”

“If you don’t want to do anything with Keigo, that’s fine (Name). The least you can do is to tell him to stop flirting if you’re not interested though.” Touya tells you, a hint of irritation behind his tone. You don’t get to say anything else as he crawls to get to the driver’s seat and starts up the car. “Come on, I can’t be late.”

You sleep alone in your bed that night, thinking about you and Keigo and Touya.

A few more days pass before you finally give an answer.

Touya holds you from behind, his arm curled around your waist and his face nuzzled against the back of your head, he’s resting in your bed peacefully after a long night of being up. It’s getting close to noon and you’ve pretty much skipped your classes for the day because his hold on you is iron tight. He’s still fast asleep but you’re wide awake and desperate to use the bathroom to pee so you try to wriggle out of his hold. The movement disgruntles Touya but he releases you to flop on his back to continue sleeping.

You relieve yourself and wash your hands in the sink, glancing up at the mirror to check your complexion briefly before walking back into your room. Touya always looks most peaceful when he’s asleep, not like the bored expression he’s always sporting on his face whenever he’s out in public. You get back in the bed, not with the intention to sleep more, but you just want to be close to your boyfriend just a little bit longer. Reaching a hand out to massage his scalp, your fingers are brushing through his hair and he groans under your touch. You hold in a giggle as Touya sticks his hand down his boxer briefs, just letting his hand rest on his soft cock and doing nothing else but continuing to sleep.

“Touya? Touya, it’s almost noon.” you call out to him.

“… Doll.” he grunts out, slightly annoyed at being woken up.

“You want something to eat? You hungry?”

Touya just dismissively waves his other hand at you, the one that’s not shoved into his underwear.

“Okay, I’ll just make something so that you can have the leftovers later on and I want to have a proper threesome with Keigo.” The last part you just quickly blurted out to get it out of the way.

There… said it, finally told him what I want to do.

He’s silent for a few seconds before he opens his eyes to look at you. “It can just be you and him doll, I’m not making it a requirement for me to be there.”

“I know but I was thinking about it and I think I just want to officially induct Keigo by having a proper threesome.”

Touya pulls his hand out from his underwear and pats his thigh, signaling you to come sit on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips as you sit on his cock, his thumbs teasing the hem of your panties and has you grinding slightly on him. “You want Keigo to stuff your mouth while I drill this slutty pussy? Or I can fuck your face instead and he can go balls deep in you? How about double penetration? You love it when I play with your ass while I fuck up your pussy with my cock. I think it’d be nice to cream you in both of your holes. Or maybe we’ll just cum on your sexy body together. Last time he came on your tits, you have no idea how wild that drove him.”

“Okay, you sound way more excited for it than I am.” you laugh as you take Touya’s hands off your hips and lace your fingers together. “But yeah, I want to do this… with Keigo.”

“Alright doll but you have to be the one to tell him.”

And so you do later on that day, Touya smacks your ass on the way out of his apartment as you go to meet up with Keigo. He gives you a shit eating grin as he watches you walk away, proud that he can see the slight limp in your step.

So you sit with Keigo at a booth in back inside a cafe as he tells you about his week; he’s always busy in between his classes, completing his lab work, studying and tutoring. You’ve realized very early on that he likes to be a busy person, he likes keeps his scheduled jam packed sometimes. Yet he handles the load of all his responsibilities with ease, like he’s barely trying and that it’s as easy as hanging up a shirt and moving onto the next. You’re certain that if you even attempted to imitate his lifestyle that you wouldn’t be able to handle it as well and just burn out.

It could be the Adderall that Touya supplied to Keigo that helped him sometimes, but even without it he still held himself together rather well.

You’re trying to find the right way to tell Keigo, wondering what’s a smooth transition into telling him-

“Let’s have another threesome.”

Way to be fucking smooth!

Keigo was in the middle of telling you about this plant nursery he thought you’d like when you interrupted him. His golden eyes are set wide in surprise, as if someone had put him on pause and he’s waiting to be set right again. He’s still for a few seconds when he finally blinks and looks at you.

Golden eyes just stare at you and you’re squirming under his gaze.

Maybe I waited too long and he’s not interested anymore?

“Aw dove, you realize how cute you look right now? You’re like a shy schoolgirl asking to hold hands for the very first time.” Keigo coos at you, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand and smiling. “You sure you want to? I’m also okay if you want nothing to change between us, I love being your friend.”

“A friend who wants to fuck you.” You remember Touya’s words from that time.

You nod your head and reach for his hand to take it in yours. “I just have to know something. I already asked Touya but I need to hear this from the only person I know that probably knows him the best. You’ll be honest with me, won’t you?”

Keigo’s hands are warm as he gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Of course (Name).”

“It’s just, you know, the whole thing with Touya and the other girls that he does his business with… I’m not accepting it still, I guess I’m just letting it happen because he insists that I’m the only one that gets all this special treatment from and I’m believing him for the time being. I just wanted it to be me and him, just us, and now there’s you. I just need to know that he’s not proposing us, this arrangement, so that I’ll harass him less when he goes to see them.”

Despite the arrangement of bringing Keigo in, no matter what your relationship with Touya comes first. It still bothers you when he goes out to the others and you do your best to not let your jealously show, there’s no point in having consistent arguments about it. But you can’t help the paranoia in your heart that he only proposed this so that you don’t have a reason to bother him. As long as you have someone else to sleep with then Touya can continue doing what he’s doing, that’s what you think.

Keigo sighs as he holds your hands in his, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles. “Don’t tell him that I told you this but there used to be more girls before you came along.”

Your jaw clenches.

“How many of them do you know of at the moment?” Keigo asks.

“Three or four I think.” you answer.

“It used to be eight. After he met you, he pretty much cut that list down to half.”

Your heart twists at the truth but it still changes nothing. “So I’m supposed to feel grateful that he liked me enough to only keep half the whores he still wants to fuck? He says that I’m his number one but what happens when he ends up liking whore #4 more? Am I just going to get bumped down the list? Am I just whore #1 for the time being?”

Keigo scratches the back of his head and seems a bit reluctant all of a sudden but he continues to speak to ease your doubts. “It’s not like that dove, it really isn’t. Touya’s never been the best with confronting his feelings but I see how he cares for you. I know to you it seems like he still has whores he wants to hang onto, but in reality he’s been slowly letting go so that he can focus on you. I can’t tell you when the others will be gone but all I know is that you’re his priority. This is new for Touya, he’s never had a real relationship before you. All he’s ever had is just a casual thing—hell the girls that he’s sold to, you can’t even call it casual, it’s just-”

“Business.” Touya’s used that word plenty of times.

You already had a feeling that he had commitment issues, it’s obvious in the way he keeps you around but still sees the others.

“I remember how upset Touya was when you left that one time to sleep with someone else because you were angry at him. I’d never seen him get so upset over anyone else (Name), it’s just been you. The feelings he has for you, it's intense.”

“My question still isn’t answered Keigo: does Touya only want this to happen so that I’ll bother him less when he goes out? Like it’s okay for him to go out and get his dick wet, struggling with whatever feelings he has for us, while I’m wetting yours? Is it just easier for him knowing a friend is plowing me instead of a stranger? It just all seems so convenient for him.”

Keigo’s posture stiffens a little bit. “He knows that he’s the one who proposed it but he didn’t want to backtrack and change his mind once he realized that you shouldn’t be a random whore for someone else to use as they please… ironic coming from the guy that uses random whores as he pleases. He feels you only deserve to get fucked by people who love you, those were his words.”

“I trust him and I know he’d be good to you.”

Whoa… love? No one said anything about love.

Touya tells you how much he loves your pussy, he’s never said himself that he loves you. And Keigo? He just said not too long about that he loves being your friend…

“Wait, did Touya actually say that he loves me? What kind of love are we talking about?”

Keigo’s golden eyes briefly widen in surprise before realizing that he might have said too much, speaking of things that Touya told him he wasn’t ready to talk about with you just yet. “I… shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that… uh fuck I can’t really speak for Touya.” Keigo curses and takes his hand back, scrunching his hand in his blond hair and looks down in embarrassment. “He’s going to kill me.”

What happened to just proposing a simple threesome? You didn’t realize that all these feelings were going to be involved when you were going to talk to him today.

“Keigo, you are being honest with me though right? You’re not lying?”

Golden eyes look up at you, full of conviction. “I could never lie to you (Name).”

You hate that Touya still sees his other whores, he sells to them and fucks them. It didn’t matter that it’s been impersonal this entire time with the others, it just hurt that you couldn’t have all of him. And yet Keigo’s admission had just changed everything, all with just one four letter word, that apparently Touya was more wrapped around your finger than you thought. The situation itself is still twisted but you’re not trying to escape it. Instead you sink deeper and deeper into it.

"Did Touya say he loves me?" you ask, not surprised that your question is met with silence. It's clear that Keigo wasn't supposed to mention that to you at all. "Do you believe what he said? That I should only be fucked by people who love me? Do you love me Keigo and is that love the same as Touya's?"

His eyes betray nothing, now set on remaining mum when it comes to this topic it seems. His silence is an answer in of itself, though it's not exactly a clear one. You won't waste anymore time asking these questions, you set out here with a mission. “If this happens… will it be just sex or will it be more?”

Golden eyes stare back at you. “It can be whatever you want it to be (Name).”

You scrutinize him under your gaze for a little bit, silent for a few moments before asking, “Will you kiss me?”

“Of course.”

The kiss is nothing like the one at the house party when the two of you were rolling on ecstasy. There’s no enhanced euphoria to make it better or any other substance to get in the way of what it is; just a tender, chaste kiss. Luckily you two are seated in the back so there’s no one around to witness this, not like at the house party with so many people around. Even when you pull back, Keigo still leans forward to pepper your face with little pecks here and there.

You’re leading Keigo by the hand back to Touya’s place, the door already unlocked for you since you know he wasn’t going out today anyway. He’s emerging from his bedroom and grins at you when he sees you holding Keigo’s hand. A knowing grin comes onto his face as he leans against the wall, looking you up and down.

“Uh where should we do this?” you ask, squeezing Keigo’s hand and shifting your weight from one leg to the other in nervousness.

Touya approaches you and kisses your forehead before taking your other hand in his own. “Well what’s a place to have a ‘proper threesome’ doll? Just the bedroom? Last time we fucked on a couch so I think it’ll do just fine this time as well.”

“A proper threesome? Is that what you called it songbird? That’s so cute.” Keigo laughs and nuzzles his head against yours. “Though I can’t disagree, I didn’t really do anything to you.”

“Hey, I offered at the time and you said no.” Touya banters with Keigo as he leads you to the couch, having you sit down on it first. “You can’t really say that you weren’t given a chance.”

Keigo simply shrugs his shoulders in response before looking down at you. You sit way too stiff on the couch, back as straight as an arrow and your brows crinkled with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. He reaches a hand towards you and pats the top of your head, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing against your scalp and massaging to get you to relax. He thinks how cute you are, acting like as if he hadn’t already seen you naked and what you look like when you’re getting railed. He’s just excited to be able to play with you with his own hands this time, manipulating your pleasures to his own tastes while coordinating with Touya.

“What are you acting like such a virgin for? Keigo already knows what you look liked when you’re getting fucked. No need to be shy.” Touya quips at you and chuckles at how you hide your face in your hands. “Quit it doll, you’re not so innocent. He’s seen it and I’ve seen it, now be a good girl and take off your clothes.”

Touya speaks in that tone when there’s no room for argument, that you dare not talk back or else you’re going to get a punishment. And normally you love to test his patience when he speaks to you in that manner, you know he loves it when you get all bratty with him but with Keigo present you’re a little bit more reluctant to be so cheeky. So you follow directions and reach towards your pants zipper to get your bottoms off first but then Keigo catches your wrist in his hand.

“Wait, I want to undress her.” Keigo announces.

Touya allows it with a passive wave of his hand.

So Keigo kneels down to do the job himself, taking his time and touching you appreciatively while you look away from his gaze. It reminds you of when you tried undressing yourself at the house party when you were rolling to jump into a pool and he caught you just in time, helping poor little you dress back up because you shouldn’t have been trying to get naked with a bunch of strangers around you. Your face is warm as the tips of his fingers skim across your naked skin, completely in the nude and absolutely self conscious as your hands go up to cover your breasts.

Keigo gently pulls your hands away and asks Touya, “Was she this shy with you the first time?”

“Tch, shy? She’s the one that had me by the cock the first time we fucked, bratty little thing pretty much demanded that I blow her back out.” Touya chuckled as he pet the top of your head before lifting your head up. “Isn’t that right doll? You remember?”

You nodded as the memory resurfaced into your mind.

“So why so shy now dove?” Keigo asks as he sheds his shirt and moves to undo his belt buckle.

“It’s different, you’re a friend Keigo. And I’ve never pleased two guys at the same time.”

Touya just merely whips off his own shirt and palms his erection through his sweatpants. “You don’t have to worry about anything (Name). There’s nothing different about sex when there’s an additional person. Keigo’s got plenty of experience in this, he’s been to a few orgies and a gangbang once.”

You whipped your head back to look at Keigo who merely just scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Hehe, there’s no need to tell her that Touya. But things will be fine dove, we know you trust us. Remember what I said earlier?”

“Y-Yeah… I remember.”

They love you… though you’re not sure what the extent of their love is for you. It’s dangerous to confuse possession for love and that’s the feeling that you get from the both of them. The logical side of you is very aware of this fact and yet you ignore it once more. Love or not, this isn’t exactly your ideal relationship but you’re not quite willing to walk away just yet.

“Can you kiss me Keigo?” you ask, figuring that you might as well just start off.

“Of course songbird.” he says as he pulls you up from the couch and leans down to kiss you. He wastes no time in gliding his tongue against the seam of your soft lips, drawing a quiet moan from you. Keigo is definitely a gentle kisser, or at least for now he’s being gentle, and any nervousness you felt washed away in the tender way he held you in his arms. Keigo’s erection pokes at your thigh and you move one hand in between your bodies to hold it in your hand. You didn’t get a good look at it last time but from the feel of it you can tell it’s a bit smoother compared to Touya’s, a prominent vein underneath as you skim the tips of your fingers over it.

“Get on your knees doll, show Keigo how good you are with that mouth.”

Sinking to your knees, you get a good look at Keigo’s cock; it’s a pretty pink color that’s a little flushed at the tip and the length is close to Touya’s though skinnier in girth. You give it a few experimental pumps in your hand before dipping your head down to take him into your mouth. The taste is a little musty but that’s to be expected when your genitals just sit in your pants all day and it doesn’t bother you at all. His cock glides smoothly over your tongue and when it hits the back of your throat, you moan around it before pulling back with an audible pop.

“You’re looking at my cock like you’re in love with it dove.” Keigo teases. He expects you to quip back at him but you merely open your mouth and stick your tongue out, a quiet ‘ahh’ from you makes his spine tingle. “Eager girl.”

Touya watches you as you swallow Keigo into your eager mouth, your eyes looking up at him and meeting his golden gaze. Watching you on your knees for someone else is getting him hard as fuck, fisting his cock in his hand and proud that you’ve let go of your inhibitions. There was no reason for you to be so shy earlier, Touya knew that you’d relax instantly with Keigo; he always had a charm about him that made everyone comfortable once they met him.

Still though, you’re his girl and he does feel a bit left out so he takes you by the back of your head and directs you to go down on him instead. Touya sees how enthused you are at the familiarity of having his cock in your mouth and how you look up into his own eyes. You’re stroking Keigo with one of your hands while the other plays with your clit messily, all the while you’re smoothly sucking him off; you’re his slutty little multi-tasker. Back and forth you trade off between Keigo and Touya’s cocks and having completely forgotten how shy you were from before. You suppose that Touya’s words from before actually ring true.

Hands go underneath your armpits and you’re lifted to sit on the couch, ass hanging off the edge with your legs held open and leaning back on your elbows for support. You barely get a word in when Keigo smoothly slides down to his knees and proceeds to eat you out like he’s the hungriest man in the world and the first meal he’s given is absolute ambrosia. He’s fucking good with his mouth, a goddamn expert as his tongue flicks over the petals of your pussy, you can’t help but wonder if he got so good from those apparent orgies that Touya said that Keigo attended previously.

Touya has one leg kneeled on the couch and is balanced with one foot on the floor as he watches once again from the sidelines for a brief moment. He thinks of all the times the two of you had sex in front of a mirror, watching your reflection as he railed you on his cock and keeping his eyes forward rather than on you. It’s different to see you in this perspective, being touched by someone else and hearing you moan for his closest friend. If you were moaning for anyone else, if Keigo wasn’t the one Touya had chosen, he’d go crazy with jealousy. He thinks of the scumbag men he’d seen eye you up and down when you weren’t looking, how he knows that they would see you as just a hole to fuck rather than a precious gem to treasure. They wouldn’t cherish you like he did, wouldn’t appreciate you the way Touya does, the things he’d do for you he knows that no other man would. Keigo is the only person he would trust to lavish you with all the affection you deserve.

She’s mine. Touya thinks before looking at Keigo. She’s ours.

You’re obedient when Touya reaches a hand forward, his thumb pressing against your plush bottom lip before you take it into your mouth. Keigo’s teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue and has two fingers moving inside you, golden eyes set on you as you look up at Touya. Your eyes are fluttering though, struggling to keep them focused as his fingers steal your concentration by finding your g-spot and dragging the pads of his fingers down before repeating the motion. A drawn out groan rumbles out from your pretty mouth and you drop your head back.

“She just came.” Keigo states as he withdraws his fingers from you and licks up your juices. “You enjoy yourself songbird?”

You answer with a tired nod of your head.

Keigo chuckles quietly, rubbing his hand on your thigh before looking to Touya. “Does she need a minute?”

“No, she can keep going." Touya kneels down to you and kisses you briefly, waking you from your orgasm-induced stupor as you reach up to touch the back of his neck and kiss you deeper. You and him are lip-locked as Keigo kisses up your body, focusing on your breasts as the pads of his fingers press into your hipbones and make you shiver under his touch. You think that maybe Touya was right from before, that sex isn’t that much different when you have another person around. Kissing is still the same, blowjobs are more or less the same, so is being eaten out, but you’re getting twice the pleasure and excitement.

One hand reaches down and scrunches through Keigo’s blond hair, soft tresses glide through your fingers and you’re reminded of the last time you rolled. His hair was just as soft when you had first kissed him at the party and you think briefly about what kind of shampoo and conditioner he uses to keep his hair so soft, maybe he uses hair masks and stuff like those internet hair recipes for it to feel so nice. So you grab a handful of it and pull his head back, giggling when he grunts and the faint hiss of, “Naughty little dove…”

Touya moves aside to make way for Keigo as he slides up to kiss you once again. In the midst of it, you feel the blunt head of his cock push against your entrance. You won’t dare break from the kiss from Keigo and you blindly reach for Touya’s hand, which he takes and holds it gently. There’s more nudging against your pussy and you think of that song that you’ve heard circulating on the internet, a specific lyric that you think is a fitting theme for tonight: I wanna ruin our friendship.

You could change your mind, tell Keigo to get off you and make Touya back off as well.

“I’m going to put it in now, okay?”

But you won’t tell them to, you decided you want this.

You think of your come down from when you rolled last and how this is almost the same situation except that Keigo is the one to fuck you while Touya sits nearby with his cock in his hand. So you brace one hand on Keigo’s shoulder and widen your legs for him, looking between turquoise eyes of your boyfriend and the golden ones of your friend. “Take his cock doll, fulfill Keigo’s fantasy and let him wreck you.”

It must be Keigo’s eagerness to have been wanting to fuck you since you met because he wastes no time in pummeling his cock into you. He’s not as rough as Touya but there’s definitely enthusiasm in his movements, his eyes entranced on your tits as they bounce with the momentum of his thrusts. Touya has your hand on his cock and makes you jerk him off, calling you a pretty, dirty whore and you vocalize your agreements.

“Fuck she’s such a slut!” Keigo says more to himself rather than Touya. He grabs a handful of your hair in his hand and yanks it back, making you gasp as your neck is exposed and he leans forward to bite down on your soft flesh. This is everything he dreamed of and more, of course the real you is far better than the nights he spent imagining what you would be like with his dick in his hand. Touya is his friend and he always painted a pretty picture with his words whenever he felt like bragging about good at sex he was, which was all the fucking time, but Keigo knew that you were different the more Touya kept on referring back to you before the relationship was official, knowing more about your pussy first before actually learning about who you were.

Touya used to get nudes pretty frequently from some of his former whores, some quick spank material before deleting it but you were different. Whatever you sent to Touya, whether innocent or not so innocent, you got your own personal folder with your name on it and if he was feeling a little generous, he’d show his friend. So Keigo pretty much knew what you looked like naked by the time the two of you were introduced but you didn’t have to know that.

So here you are, naked and getting railed on his cock right with his very own eyes.

No more digital or imaginary substitutions, Keigo was getting the real thing now.

“Hands and knees, I want her sucking me off.”

Pushed into the desired position, your hands brace the armrest of the couch to steady yourself, seeing as you’re about to get fucked from both ends. Keigo’s hips slap against you in a steady and firm rhythm while Touya gags you on his cock. Fingernails dig into the surface of the couch and you strain to look up as you’re getting face fucked. Porn makes having a threesome look so easy and fluid but you’re struggling a little bit with the different rhythms from one end compared to the other. It’s hard to concentrate on sucking Touya off as Keigo fucks you from behind, neither one of them wanting to give you a break.

It’s a struggle but you don’t want to stop.

“Open your mouth wider.” Touya commands and you happily obey. His cock is soaked in your spit so it glides smoothly into your mouth and with practiced eased you deep throat him. Every thrust Keigo delivers, it makes you bump forward slightly but it doesn’t deter you from doing the best you can with a cock in your mouth. Their praises mix together and it makes you feel heady, you want to be good for them and hear more of ‘good girl’ and ‘that’s right songbird’.

And then Keigo yanks you away from Touya, laying flat on your back on the couch and he pushes back inside you with your legs pushed to your chest. You want to look into his eyes, take a dip in those honey-colored windows to his soul and hold his gaze while he practically ravages your pussy. You’re sure that his gaze is as intense as the fucking that he’s giving you, so intense that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head and you can’t look him in the eyes like you want. So instead you’re fucked stupid by Keigo and can barely muster any praises back to him like ‘you fuck me so good’ and shit like that.

It’s okay because Touya can do the talking anyway.

“Look at you doll, looks like you’re losing it over his cock. You’re such a good little whore right now, you make me proud.” Touya strokes his cock in one hand while the other reaches down and lovingly strokes your hair. “You wanna let Keigo fuck you from now on? You wanna be with the both of us?”

“Wan’ you both… yes, want you two!” you groan out and reach one hand up to touch Touya’s wrist. “Ungh, fuck!”

“Shit, I’m going to cum!” Keigo hisses as he sloppily fucks into you before pulling out and cumming all over your tits. Warm splatters of liquid fall onto your chest as you cum as well, finally able to look at Keigo from your vantage point but disappointed that he didn’t cum inside you. “Fucking hell… baby bird…”

Ah, you’ve unlocked a new pet name.

There’s no break for you as Touya takes you back, sitting on the couch and putting you in his lap. You groan at the familiar stretch of his cock slipping inside you, you’re a leaking mess as Touya fucks his hips up into your pussy. You’re getting fucked in his lap, clutching onto his shoulders and moving in practiced sync. Normally you’d get lost looking into turquoise blue eyes but you look to the side to see Keigo leaning against the arm rest and catching his breath.

Touya’s hands cuff underneath your ass and gives support as you ride him, his mouth pressed into your neck as he gives you wet kisses all the while Keigo sits back and watches. It’s different and new and you’re not necessarily sure how this may turn out for you in the end. Your conversation from earlier rings in your mind and your mind sobers briefly at the recollection of it: “He feels you only deserve to get fucked by people who love you, those were his words.”

Love… you’re still trying to fathom it.

Wanting to just have sex was one thing, adding love into the mix was another. It should make you sit down and consider what the fallout may be but the thought of Touya being in love with you, being just too shy or obstinate to bare himself open, it made your heart flutter in the same way he wouldn’t allow you to call him Dabi anymore. And Keigo too, a selfish part of you wanted to indulge yourself silly on these two men who apparently didn’t like the idea of relinquishing you to just anyone.

Don’t be a whore for anyone else but us.

“Look here doll.”

You look away from Keigo and look to Touya instead, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him. Contrary to how he may seem, Touya loved to kiss you during sex. It drives him wild every single time, especially when you’d scrunch a handful of his hair in your hand and tugged on his roots. He curses at you and gives a sharp smack to your ass, a guttural growl rumbling in his chest as he asserts control over you. All you can do is manage to hold onto his shoulders as he presses you to sit back against the couch and fucks into your already sensitive pussy, so he’s not necessarily surprised when you cum on his cock. He reaches down to overstimulate you by toying with your clit and you practically lose it, sobbing as you cum more for him.

When you peer up at Touya, you can tell by the way his brows are pinched that he’s about to cum. You beg for him to cum inside you like he always does, you’re anticipating it. Instead he pulls out and makes you kneel on the floor, Keigo coming to his side with his cock in his hand; you hadn’t even realized that he got hard again. “Open wide sweetheart.” Touya tells you.

So you do, your eyes on the boys as the cum all over your face and your tits, mixed drops catching on your tongue as you’re coated in hot cum. When they’re both thoroughly tapped out, you smear it all over your chest and giggle how they both groan at the sight of you. “Mm… I loved it!”

“Glad you did baby bird.” Keigo leans down to kiss your temple while Touya kisses your cheek. “As pretty as you look with our cum all over you, why don’t you go wash up?”

No arguments there, dried cum isn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world especially since you were showered in so much of it. So you get up and walk in the direction of the bathroom but turn back briefly and lean against the wall. “Hey.” you call out and they both look to you. “I’m happy that that we did this. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do this, I want you to know that.”

You’re tempted to put out a simple ‘love you’ just to see what Touya’s reaction would be, but you think it’s best to not breach that subject for now. If it were still just you and him, then you probably would have put it out there but the addition of Keigo changes it a bit so you have to reevaluate the pace of the relationship. It’s a whole mess, that much is certain, but you want to stay with Touya. You wonder how much poking and prodding you can get from Keigo to reveal more. You feel a certain sense of pride that apparently he’s never devoted himself to anyone else until you came along, though if it weren’t for Keigo accidentally revealing such precious information then you never would have known in the first place, if not this soon in the relationship. For the time being, you just blow an air kiss and leave to go clean up.

Under the shower spray, you think hard about you, Touya and Keigo. “Eight girls… he used to see eight fucking girls!” you mutter to yourself. It sort of figures that Touya had that many whores but you had no clue that the number was so high before you came along. You still get mad when he comes to you smelling like them, you won’t even let him get near you unless he washes up first and he’ll always cater to you afterwards. Just because Keigo is included now doesn’t mean the jealousy won’t stop, it just means that now he provides a distraction when Touya goes out and wrestles with his commitment issues while balls deep in other girls.

But if what Keigo says is true that Touya loves you then you can hold out until you can draw that confession out of him.

━━━━✧

Part 3 of the Us Series: Do It For Me

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #takami x reader #dabi #todoroki touya #takami keigo #dabi smut #hawks smut #bnha x reader #bnha #tw drugs #us series

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because-of-a-friend · 4 years ago

Text

GuardianAngel!Jun

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request anon! I really hope you like it!!! This was def a bit out of my comfort zone but in a really exciting way! Also I don’t keep up with absolutely all lore on angels/ guardian angels, so if I say something you weren’t expecting/didn’t really want or left out something you were expecting, I’m sorry and hope it’s still enjoyable anyways! (I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE THIS ANGSTY IT JUST SORT OF HAPPENED IM SORRY)

Warnings: Near death experiences (including almost drowning), mentions of injury and death, and angst

There are rules about being a guardian angel that are so obvious, they don’t need to be spoken

Obviously, if there’s a fixed point where your person has to get injured or even die, you can’t intervene

You can’t ever assist in a way that would get you spotted by your person

You can’t do more than simple guidance when it comes to matters of the heart and mind

And, you cannot ever meet your person and tell them who you are

Jun has always followed all rules to a T

He’s never gotten in trouble or anywhere even close to trouble

He’s an example to his peers

He always does his job perfectly

There’s never been a hitch

And then he’s assigned to you

At first your life is as normal as anyone else he’s ever been a guardian to

But then things get complicated

It’s honestly like you’re trying to get hurt

Suddenly, there’s just a period of time where you’re constantly in danger

Jun will save you once and then immediately be running off to save you again

Boy is he stressed

He feels like his constant state of being is just standing there, bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath before you need him again

He’ll admit that he’d rather be assigned to you than someone who never required his help at all

He’d be so bored

But still, did you always have to be so... reckless?

One day it gets to be too much

And Jun slips up

You had already walked under an AC unit falling from someone’s apartment window and he had to send a gust of wind to push you out of the way

Then you stepped out into the street in front of a car speeding down the road

Jun was still in the middle of breathing out a sigh of relief from the first incident

So he didn’t have the time to think of how to save you from the next danger

In his panic he steps forward and grabs you

You feel the hand around your wrist

You feel the force yanking you back out of the street

You see someone out of the corner of your eye

But once you fully turn to thank them, no one is there

You’re turning around over and over to see who you could have missed

But there’s really no one

Jun is watching you from a few feet away, now invisible to your eyes, his heart practically beating out of his chest

He didn’t do anything wrong... did he?

Technically he didn’t get caught by you

Technically

But that was close

He needs to be more careful

You have a period of time where you’re just utterly confused about what happened that day

You’re constantly looking over your shoulder wondering if maybe it was something supernatural

You start to notice your close calls with injury/death

And begin to wonder what’s stopping you from actually getting hurt

Sometimes it’s a gust of wind strong enough to push you out of the way, or a loud noise to stop you in your tracks, or sometimes just the kindness of a random stranger who is suddenly overcome with the need to help you

It’s starting to feel impossible how many times you’ve crossed paths with death and walked away fine

You begin to almost... test the waters

Instead of accidentally running into trouble, you start purposely running towards it

Jun is unbelievably stressed

Why do you have to do this?

He feels like he might die at this rate just from how much he’s stressing out about your safety

Then you put him in a situation where he really has no choice but to help you as himself

You’re walking by a community pool late at night after agreeing to help your friend that works there out by locking up for them so they could go out that night instead of being stuck at work late

There’s no one else there since it’s already closed

It’s dark and slippery

And with you being you, Jun is beyond nervous, so he follows behind you from no more than a foot away

It’s going fine and you’re almost done

So Jun is letting out a sigh of relief

But it was too soon

As you’re passing by to double check that the back door is locked, you slip on the wet floor

You tumble towards the pool and hit your head on the way down

Jun watches in horror as you fall into the water and sink straight to the bottom

He doesn’t hesitate even for a moment to jump in after you

He drags you out and sets you down next to the pool

You’re not waking up and he’s terrified

He begins to perform CPR

Finally you sit up, choking, water streaming out of your mouth

You saw him, you know you did

There’s a boy sitting in front of you even though you knew there was no one in the building besides you

He’s staring into your eyes with such great concern

“Are you ok?”

You nod slowly as he helps you sit up

“You need to go to the hospital, you hit your head”

You nod at his words again, reaching up the rub your eyes since they’re blurred from the water

“How did you get in-”

You stop mid sentence

As soon as you’ve taken your hands away from your eyes, you look up and see that no one is there

You begin to search around but you really are alone

You’re spooked and also worried that maybe it’s just because you hit your head that hard and immediately head to the hospital

The doctor discharges you quickly, telling you the hit didn’t do any serious damage and that you just needed to rest and take it easy for a few days

You’re still completely confused by the disappearing boy

Was he the same person that pulled you out of the street that one day?

Jun begins to observe you closely after these incidents

He can tell you must be thinking about him

Most days when you’re not busy, you’ll be staring off into the distance, your mind trying to explain these strange happenings

And for the first time since he’s ever become a guardian angel, Jun really wants to tell you

Usually he had no issues hiding from the people he was assigned to

But you

He likes the way you live

How you speak to people

Your goals and dreams and how you work towards them

The hobbies you enjoy

He feels happy being your guardian

And while it can be stressful sometimes, he never hates it

It feels, ironically, comfortable to be your guardian

He’s honestly grown quite fond of you

Which is also a big no-no for guardian angels

You should never get too attached to your assigned person

There will come a time where they have to get hurt

Or a time when their life must come to an end

If a guardian angel is too attached to a human

They may try to change what must be

But Jun hates watching you feel like you’re going insane over not being able to explain these instances

He wants to be able to explain it all to you

In the end all it takes is one more brush with danger before you’re standing there, Jun’s hand locked around your arm, staring into his eyes after he’s saved you once again

He immediately turns to walk away but you grab his arm

“WAIT! Wait!”

Jun knows he should do anything, anything at all to leave you right then and there so he doesn’t get caught

But he also doesn’t hate the idea of that happening

“I know you!” you say. “You saved me the other day at the pool!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, turning back to you, “but I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” you’re so sure this is the boy from the pool

Jun hesitates

Instead of saying anything, he just holds a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion before finally walking off

And you just stand there in awe

It was him

You go home immediately, beginning to study different supernatural creatures and happenings

You print out pages and pages of all sorts of information on any type of guardian creature you can find

You’re certain this boy is something other than human and you’re sure that whatever he is, he must be in charge of your safety

Now every time you almost get hurt or in trouble, you look around wildly, trying to spot the boy who you’ve only really been able to see twice

Sometimes you’ll catch a glimpse of a figure walking around a corner out of sight, or a being seemingly disappearing into thin air

This boy must be following you everywhere and you’re determined to catch him again

Jun, who is very tired after all of the saving you and then concealing himself moments, sort of just... lets you

One day you turn around after surviving another potentially dangerous moment, and he’s just... standing there

You can’t think of anything else to say, so you just blurt out the question, “Are you my guardian angel?”

Jun just smiles and nods at you, “Nice to finally meet you”

He walks you home that day

And you have a million questions for him

“Did you chose me or were you assigned to me?”

“What abilities do you have?”

“Have you been with me my whole life?”

“Do you have like... a boss?”

“Actually what is the system like?”

“What other supernatural creatures exist?”

“Do you have a name?”

He interrupts your next question by answering, “Jun.”

It silences you for a moment

“I like that name.”

Jun smiles brightly at you

You notice he sort of... glows

To say your relationship moves fast is an understatement

Jun knows your time together will be short

He’s heard what has happened to other guardian angels who have broken the rules

Someone will be coming for him

But he knows he’s in love with you

And wants to make sure he takes advantage of all the moments he has left with you

He’s very forward

But since your safety and comfort is his top priority, he always lets you set the boundaries beforehand

He’ll never do anything you don’t want him to do

But he’s definitely going to do anything and everything that you are ok with him doing

You feel strangely comfortable around him

Obviously you know he’s there to protect you and he’s been there your whole life

But it’s still strange how easy it is for you to just fall right into Jun

He holds your face in his hands and looks at you like you’re the whole world

And to him you are

Nothing has ever mattered to him as much as you

And all he wants to do is spend as much time with you as possible

He wants to go on all the traditional human type dates and do all the cliché human couple things

The two of you celebrate every human holiday in like a week so he can experience what it’s like lol

On the day you celebrate Valentine’s Day he gets you every cheesy gift he’s ever seen humans get each other

“Jun how am I supposed to sleep with this many giant teddy bears in my room?”

“You’ll figure it out”

Then you two celebrate Christmas and he definitely sets up mistletoe on every doorway

You don’t miss how tightly he holds you at night

Or the way he looks at you like you’re about to disappear

Or the way he always needs to suddenly reach for you to make sure you’re there

You know something is off

Why would your guardian angel suddenly show up out of the blue to spend your life with you?

“Junnie, you’d tell me if I was gonna die right?”

“What? [Y/N], what makes you think you’re gonna die?”

He comes and kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his

“I don’t know, sometimes you just act like... this is all going to end at any moment.”

Jun knows he should tell you

But he just wants the two of you to stay in your little bubble for as long as possible

“It’s just because I love you so much, and I just want to make sure you’re always safe and happy”

He clings to you even tighter the next few days

He knows he has to tell you asap so he wants to give you the best days of your life

He’s so doting

Makes you breakfast every day

Is always right there to show you affection

Wrapping his arms around you from behind

Resting his head on your chest and gazing up at you

Ruffling you hair

Pressing kisses all over your face

Letting his hands stroke up and down your arms and then all the way down to your fingers sending goosebumps across your skin

And then one day he gives you a gift out of nowhere

It’s a beautiful necklace that looks like one single angel wing

“Oh Junnie, I love it” you say putting it on immediately

You quickly notice that he’s wearing a necklace with a matching wing

“[Y/N], I need to tell you something.”

He sits close to you and strokes your hands with his thumbs as he lays out the reality of your situation

His heart is in the pit of his stomach by the time he’s finished and he’s ready for you to run away and leave him behind

But when you assure him that you also want to make the most of every moment you have left

He’s so happy he could cry

So you start to take him on all the typical cheesy human dates

So that way the two of you have plenty of happy moments together while also getting to experience everything

The carnival

Picnics

Walks on the beach

Stargazing

And it’s honestly perfect every time

When he stares lovingly down at your face, stroking his thumb slowly up your cheeks then leans in to kiss you slow and sweet under the stars, you feel like you could fly

Your happiness is short lived though

You’re not even surprised when two men show up at your door asking where Jun is

Despite not being surprised, you are devastated

The two of you put up a good fight

But the ending was inevitable

You watch helplessly as they drag Jun away from you

But before he’s gone completely he calls out to you

“If it’s in this life or the next, in this world or another, I will come back to you”

And as you see the look in his eyes during those last few moments

And see his expression as he says those words

You know that he will

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awanderingdeal · 4 years ago

Text

Never too late - 8

An eternity later and it is here! Part 8 of 'Never too Late'. How much of this is me projecting? You'll never know.

CW: Food, alcohol, feelings of queer exclusion at prom, coming out, [very minor and it is shut down] compulsory sexuality.

Please message me if you feel I missed anything out.

Just a note, that due to the POV of this fic, there is a lot of linking between relationships and romance to prom. I just want to reiterate that prom absolutely does not have to be a romantic event if you do not want it to. The beef is more that queer kids do not always have the choice to go with their partners safely, and the stress of not knowing whether it would have been okay or not.

I hope that all of you that wanted to were able to have the prom you wanted and if you weren't able to, please know it is just ONE day. Throw your own if you want to. Don't if you don't want to. I know for myself, I have a lot of feelings about it, so please don't read this if it going to upset you.

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist.

All credit for Sweater Weather and these characters go to @lumosinlove

8. Go to a dance. Kiss your first love. Well, at least you think they are anyway. But remember kids, consent always.

Leo was excited, to say the least. Sprawled on his bed, laptop in front of him and his cell to the right, he knew it was getting late, but he wanted to research a little longer. He had a venue and a catering team locked down; the latter he had done reluctantly, after yet another person had told him that he absolutely could not cater the event himself.

His phone buzzed insistently, and Leo grunted. Why would anybody call when you could just text? He grunted again when he read the caller id.

Regulus. What a traitor.

“Hello?” Leo answered, rolling onto his back. He felt a tightness in his lumbar region, and made a mental note to mention it to Hestia in the morning if the sensation was still there when he woke up.

“Go to sleep.”

“ I will soon,” Leo hummed. “Did you look at my text?”

“Leo. It’s 2am.”

“Yes, I worked very hard to learn to tell the time, thank you.” In truth, the last time Leo remembered checking the time, it had still been the previous day. Logan had a popped his head around the door to tell Leo that he and Finn were going to crash in one of the other rooms, and that Leo should get some sleep soon. Leo had nodded and assured Logan he wouldn’t be too long.

Regulus’ sigh on the other end of the phone interrupted his memory.

“And you’re getting cranky,” Regulus said. Leo could imagine the smooth raised eyebrow that accompanied the words. “If I tell you which theme I like, will you go to sleep?”

Leo shifted, pushing himself up against the stack of pillows. He nodded eagerly, before remembering Regulus couldn’t see him. “Yes. I promise.”

“I like both -”

“That is not helpful!”

“Wait a second. Merde. You should combine them.”

“That’s,” Leo wrinkled his nose, contemplating the idea. “That’s actually kind of genius.”

“You can thank me later,” Regulus offered smugly. “After you’ve got some sleep.”

***

“So Reg, who’s the lucky person who gets to be your date to this thing?” Finn asked, plucking a brownie from the plate in the middle of the table, before settling into the seat opposite Leo.

“It’s not a thing!” Leo protested.

“Sorry, babe. This prom,” Finn grinned.

Regulus worried his lip between his teeth, looking first at Leo and then turning his gaze back to Finn. “Do I have to go with someone?”

“Yes,” Finn said resolutely, at the same time as Leo shook his head, giving the opposite answer.

“No,” Leo repeated, narrowing his eyes at Finn. “People go to prom with friends all the time.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. You don’t have to,” Finn agreed, giving a placating smile. Leo hated that it worked. If he were being honest, they should probably utilise the O’Hara smile in diplomatic relations. “But don’t you want to have the quintessential prom kiss?”

“Finn -”

“I was actually thinking I could borrow Leo,” Regulus rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Apparently Finn didn't catch it though. His face contorted into a thousand different expressions in the space of a second. Conflicted. Contemplative. Accepting. “Well...I guess I’d be okay with it, if Leo is, but Lo-”

“That was a joke, Finn,” Regulus laughed.

“Oh, right,” Finn laughed as well, the tips of his cheeks tinged pink. “Well. Yeah. Prom kisses are nice. I had sex for the first time on my prom. Although, she did cheat on my two months later, so maybe I’m not the best example to follow,” he rambled.

“That was a lot to learn about somebody in a very short amount of time," Regulus commented, clutching his mug between his hands.

Finn shrugged, leaning forward to grab another brownie, seemingly uncaring about the wealth of information he had just offered.

***

“Hey, Le?”

Leo looked up from his phone, finding Regulus hovering next to him, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He cocked his head slightly in question.

“Can we talk?”

Leo frowned, setting his phone down on the coffee table and patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “You don’t usually ask,” he smirked.

Regulus’ smile back seemed strained, but Leo didn’t comment on it. “Earlier,” Regulus started as he took a seat, playing with the tips of his fingers before he stopped abruptly, placing them in his lap. “In the kitchen? What Finn said?”

Leo sighed gently, “Ignore him. Finn’s mouth and his feet are well acquainted. You know Finn. He just doesn't always think before he speaks. I’m sorry if he upset you.”

“You shouldn’t apologise for your boyfriend. If I wanted an apology I would have gone to him.” ” Regulus chided. His expression softened, his next intake of breath larger than usual. “Can you just listen?”

“Sorry,” Leo turned to look at Regulus properly. “You were saying?”

Regulus gave a small nod. “I don’t think I want that.”

Leo opened his mouth to speak, remembered Regulus’ request and snapped it shut again.

“Not the kisses. Not the sex. None of it. I think I’m asexual” The words came out in a single, hurried burst, but Regulus seemed to stumble over the last one, as if it was unfamiliar to him, unpractised. Leo could picture his friend frantically asking google questions, refining each search as he learned new information. He’d been there himself once.

A silence hung in the air, the two of them staring at one another, with an intensity that was making Leo feel uncomfortable, but he didn't want to be the first to break eye contact.

“Désolé," Regulus blinked. "Say something. Please."

Leo shuffled forward, his arms outstretched. “I’m going to hug you now.” He waited a beat to allow Regulus to protest, before pulling him close. Regulus sat stiffly, taking a moment to relax into the embrace and when he did, Leo squeezed him a little tighter. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I knew you’d be okay with it,” Regulus grumbled. Leo was sure he heard a hint of relief despite the attempt to appear ambivalent. He let Regulus go, putting some space between them again, knowing his friend had more personal space boundaries than Leo was used to dealing with.

“It’s still scary. Even if you’re almost certain it’s going to be alright. And just in case you need to hear it, I love you, you’re valid and even if you decide that’s not the right label for you that’s okay too.”

“What are you? Like, gay Yoda?” Regulus gave a small laugh, but he sniffed wetly. “Thanks.”

“A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack,” Leo made a fist, wrapped his other hand over the top and bowed his head.

“Nerd.”

“Wait, can I ask you a question?” Regulus’ consenting nod was slow and tentative. “Does this mean you’d prefer if I stop sending you half naked photos every other day?” Leo let the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk.

Regulus barked a very uncharacteristic laugh, deep and loud. “While I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of Chris Evans, yes, I’ve seen enough of that man to last me many lifetimes .” He punched Leo lightly in the knee. Leo raised an eyebrow at the very frat - boy inspired action, and Regulus made a face that suggested he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from either. “I’m sure company is not an issue for you in this household, but don’t worry I’ll still watch The Avengers with you.”

“A real hero,” Leo drawled. “Hey.” He met Regulus’ eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note again. “You know you can tell Finn. And Logan, right? If that’s what you want. Whenever you’re ready. They’ll be cool.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed. “I don’t doubt it.”

“And if they’re not. I’ll personally kick them in the balls for you.”

***

Leo fussed with his bowtie in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that, trying to decide if it was straight.

“Stop. You look great. They’re going to die,” Regulus declared, making Leo jump slightly. He’d known the man was in the room, but his best friend had a habit of just appearing beside him unannounced.

Leo took another look in the mirror, running his fingers over the slightly raised texture of his initials monogrammed into the teal suspenders. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do,” he hummed, turning to face Regulus, scanning his eyes over him. Even Leo had been surprised by Regulus’ choice of attire, knowing now why he had kept the outfit such a secret. “Bold choice,” he remarked.

“Too much?”

“No,” Leo shook his head. Maybe it would have been on somebody else, but Regulus wore the mustard yellow three - piece effortlessly. He reached out to touch the blue sapphire that embellished the lapel, a gold chain linking it to the breast pocket. “Not at all. I’m just jealous.”

“Alright boys, are we ready?” Alex asked, clapping his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“As we’ll ever be.”

“Ready!” Kuny boomed, making a show of checking his pocket watch, the gold chain attaching it to his vest was somehow, even more ornate than Regulus’.

The four of them turned to glance at Remus, the only one in the room left to reply. Shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, Remus smiled. “I guess I can’t play with this tie any longer.”

“Alright then. I don’t know a lot about you guys, but I want to see my boyfriend,” Alex rocked on his feet, Leo chuckled, the man pretended he was so much more chill than his younger brother, but excitement seemed to bubble under his skin all the same. Leo didn’t blame Alex though, separating the partners into different rooms had seemed like a good idea earlier in the evening, but now he just wanted to see Finn and Logan, ideally before he exploded with anticipation. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for those of them that had to wait for their partners to arrive from the Potter’s house, where the ladies had opted to get ready.

“Yes. I want see Jackson,” Kuny nodded resolutely.

“Lord, help me,” Regulus whined. Leo just laughed, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

***

“Cap! Stop undressing Loops with your eyes, he put a lot of effort into finding that suit.”

“Kuny. Put Nado down. There are people here.”

“Harzy. Are you crying?”

“You can close your mouth now, Leo.” Regulus tapped a finger lightly against Leo’s jaw. He would have tried to defend himself from the accusation, but he couldn’t deny the quiet clink of his teeth snapping back together.

“I’m just going to need a minute,” Leo mumbled, dragging his eyes over Finn and Logan’s bodies.

“Take your time,” Regulus chuckled. “Is-” Regulus leaned forward, squinting slightly. “Does Finn’s jacket match the invites.”

“I think they’re flowers.” Although, from afar, the swirls of blue and silver painted over the jacket did resemble the night sky artwork the two of them had settled on for the invites. Leo had insisted they needed them despite Regulus’ very valid point that saw all of the attendees at least once a week. “I’m going to go and check,” Leo waved a hand towards his boyfriends. He could see Logan’s lips moving, Finn’s grin widening with each word and Leo wanted in on that conversation.

“Sure,” Regulus hummed. “You go and do that.”

Leo stole a glance behind him as he crossed the short distance of their lounge, feeling a pang of guilt about leaving Regulus so easily on what was supposed to be his night. He needn't have worried though, he had barely taken a few paces before Regulus was swarmed by Thomas and James. Leo huffed a laugh at Regulus' disgruntled expression as they fawned at his suit.

***

“Leo. Regulus. Welcome! These must be your guests.” Estella, the only one of fifteen event planners that he and Regulus could agree on, smiled wide. “Is everybody here? I can always have somebody come and meet any stragglers?”

“No, this is all of us,” Leo confirmed. Corralling everybody into the two limos had been a task, but somehow they had all managed to make it to the museum without anybody being left behind.

“Alright then. Follow me. I think you’re going to love what we’ve settled on.” Estella turned on her heel, tight curls bouncing behind her as she led them up the grand staircase. Leo had been to The Natural History museum many times during the day, but the place had a strange sense of awe without the usual bustle of visitors, and he couldn’t wait to see what the events hall had been transformed into.

Estella pushed the ornate double doors open, blocking the entrance with her body. She must have noticed how Leo’s feet itched with anticipation because she gave a small smirk as she stepped aside. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. I’ll be around should you need anything."

Leo looked back at the group behind him; his team, his friends, his family, and felt the pool of anxiety that had been bubbling in his stomach all day, churn again. This evening had started off as being for Regulus, but it had quickly grown beyond that. While prom wasn’t inherently romantic, the traditions that came alongside it were embroiled with ideas that had marginalised so many of them, even if they hadn’t realised it at the time. A part of him hated that a high school event that was truly insignificant in the grand scheme of things could hold so much weight. He wanted to rebel, to not let it be important at all. Another just wanted to be able to give them all the night they had wished for back then.

“What’s the delay?” Natalie’s voice shook Leo from his head, and he glanced to his left at Regulus before moving into the room.

Estella and her team had really come through. They had weaved Leo and Regulus’ ideas on decoration into something spectacular. He had to force himself not to pause again, waiting until he was less of an obstruction to the rest of them, to stop and look up at the ceiling. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny lights strung to look exactly like the night sky. Right in the centre, Leo recognised the pattern to be that of his namesake, one light slightly brighter than all the rest.

“Hey,” Sirius clapped a hand on Regulus’s shoulder. “How come you get to be up there and I don’t.”

“Can’t stand not to be the centre of attention can you, big brother?” Regulus shot back and Sirius just shook his head with a laugh, hurrying after Remus.

***

“This one is for all you loved up folk out there,” the DJ’s voice rang through the room, the music slowly fading from a thuddy beat into the tender piano notes of the next song.

Leo winced as Marlene squealed, tugging Dorcas from her chair, the latter almost tripping over her train in the rush, although she regained her composure quickly. She moved just as swiftly in her heels as Marlene did in her black and white oxfords. He watched the two of them leave, Dorcas’ emerald green dress almost sparkling as it caught the light.

“Go on,” Regulus nudged Leo, tilting his head in the direction of where Finn and Logan had already procured a spot on the dance floor. “Go dance with your boys.”

Leo glanced at Regulus, before turning his gaze to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. He contorted his features into a series of faces that to anybody else probably seemed nonsensical, but they caught on perfectly, answering his silent question with simultaneous nods of their heads.

“Or,” Leo placed his hand, palm upright, on the table. “You could do me the honour?”

“I’m not,” Regulus wrinkled his nose. “You don’t need to -”

“Indulge me, Reggie.”

“Only if you stop calling me that,” Regulus sighed, grasping Leo’s hand. “I’m leading.”

Regulus, it turned out, could dance. Leo was passable. He let himself be led around the floor, laughing with his friend at all the couples that weren’t quite as accomplished, his boyfriend’s included.

The music flowed seamlessly from the deep tones of John Legend into the lighter ones of Taylor Swift.

“Yes! My girl, Tay Tay. Now we’re talking.”

Regulus rolled his eyes playfully, “Calm down, Le. I think your gay is showing.”

“Okay, Karen.”

“I am wounded,” Regulus clutched his hand to chest, placing it back on Leo’s hip without missing a beat. He looked up, smiling at Leo softly. “You should go and dance with them now. I think they could do with your help.”

“Non!” Logan argued, stumbling over Finn’s feet once again. “I know how to dance. It is Finn who is a liability,” he added, as they came to a halt beside Leo and Regulus.

***

Reg! Did you see Kam sent the link for the photos?

I did. You want to look at them together, non?

Oui, Oui! Come over now?

Leo waited to receive the confirmation text, before he hurried into the kitchen to compile a selection of snacks, as well as a jug of lemon water for Finn. On his final trip, he added the ever-present jug of sweet tea from the fridge to the tray, setting it all up on the table in front of the TV in the lounge.

“Baby Black is coming over then?” Logan teased, sprawling onto the sofa next to Leo.

“Sssh,” Leo whined, pressing a finger to Logan’s lips. “Otherwise no doughnuts for you.”

Logan gasped, launching himself at Leo, his hands finding the spot below Leo’s ribs where he was most ticklish. “How dare you threaten me with such things?”

“Stop it,” Leo spluttered between laughs, squirming away from the assault. Thankfully the doorbell rang just as Leo thought he was going to have to tap out, Logan letting him up to go and answer it.

It took a few minutes to get all four of them settled on the couch and the photos casting from his cell to the TV, but eventually they managed it.

Kam, and their assistant, had done a great job of capturing the entire night, from everybody getting ready to a very drunk James and Evgeni snoring softly against the giant moon structure. James was swamped by Evgeni’s checked suit jacket and James’ pinstripe one hung from Evgeni’s arm.

“Did you three plan this?” Regulus laughed as a photo of Sirius, Logan and Pascal appeared on the screen. The three of them had chosen to go with a classic tuxedo, albeit with slight variations.

“We did not. We just all have impeccable taste,” Logan retorted.

“Oh my God!” Finn sat forward, squinting at the screen. “They definitely planned that though.” He waved at the image of Alex and Kasey, their suits the same but in reverse; Alex’s jacket a navy blue with a checked grey vest and Kasey the opposite.

“Finn babe,” Leo frowned, sliding Finn’s glasses onto his face. “How did you go the entire night without noticing that. Aren’t you supposed to be the fashion connoisseur, here?”

“I was distracted!” Finn protested. “By…” he beamed as a photo of him, Leo and Logan replaced the previous image. “That.”

Regulus faked a gag, swiping at the phone to get a new photo. Any argument that was about to ensue was abruptly ended as they all burst into laughter. On the screen, a sheepish looking Pascal was being berated by Estella, her finger pointing to the sign to the left of the vine covered swing that Pascal was sitting on that read, ‘For decorative purposes only’.

They went through hundreds of photos. Some of them were sweet; Natalie with her arms wrapped around Regulus’s waist pressing a kiss to his cheek. Some of them were silly; everybody sat in rows on the dancefloor, their arms out to side. Some of them staged; Regulus and Leo sat on the big arm chairs beneath the origami stars. All of them captured tiny moments that none of them wanted to forget.

Leo tucked his head against Regulus' shoulder, trying to stifle his tears. He wasn't upset, not at all. It was just a lot. Seeing it all again. And then he remembered that all the decorations had been donated. Most of the woodland pieces, including the huge faux tree that had stood in the middle of one of the tables had gone to a local young theatre troupe that were struggling to finance their show, and the starry night pieces had gone to a group that were organising a Queer prom for the region's high schoolers that maybe didn't feel accepted at their own. For Leo, knowing that young kids like himself could take their prom photos with whomever they wanted, could truly decide whether they wanted to go with friends or their partners without fear, was the best part of all. Regulus wrapped his arm around Leo, pulling him closer.

"Thank you, I had the best prom ever."

#regulus black #leo knut #sweater weather #lumosinlove #rating: t #food #alcohol #compulsory sexuality #prom #coming out

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harrysweasleys · 4 years ago

Text

speechless // h.p

Summary: Can you do a Harry Potter x reader where reader is exactly like Richie Tozier and she defends him from Draco and his Slytherins? And Harry falls in love with her from then and everyone is teasing him?

Warnings: language ofc!!!

Word Count: 6k

A/N: ok first off I cannot express my love for Richie Tozier enough. he’s a precious baby and I love him. also I’m so close to my next hundred! thank you all! (gif isn’t mine) xxxx

—

“Oi, mum sent me a package!”

Ron peeled open the box in front of him, repeatedly hitting Hermione in the ribs as he ripped the paper off the box, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning.

“I hope it’s a wig,” you piped up, “Because something really has to change about your hair.”

Ron glared at you, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor and kicking it under the table, “Ha, hilarious.”

He continued to rip at the box, eventually managing to tear it open. His eyes widened, his smile falling shortly after.

“Oh, is it a picture of yourself?” you pursed your lips and nodded condescendingly, “That’s the only thing that could have made you look so depressed.”

Hermione and Harry burst out laughing, however Ron kept a solemn expression as he took out the contents of the box, which happened to be a very old pair of dress robes — the collar was off-white and frilly and the thick sleeves were clearly moth-eaten. You put a hand over your mouth to hide your laughter, not wanting to make Ron’s mood any more sour than it was at that moment.

“Mum sent me...a dress?” Ron’s voice was defeated as he stood up, holding the dress robes at their full length.

“Wow,” you struggled to hold your laughter back, “I didn’t think anything could get worse than your hair but that’s awful.”

“Is there a bonnet?” Harry joined in on the teasing and reached into the package, taking out what appeared to just be a frilly mess, “Aha!” You grinned at Harry’s pleaser reaction.

Ron scowled at the two of you, walking away from the table and approaching his younger sister, “Ginny, these must be for you.”

Hermione started giggling, catching Ron’s attention. He peered back at her, silently asking what her problem was.

“They’re not for Ginny, they’re for you, they’re dress robes.”

Ron’s face lost all colour, making the situation a million times more amusing for you. Harry continued teasing his friend, Ron becoming more agitated by the minute. You tuned out the conversation where Hermione explained to Ron that they were dress robes, and focused on the breakfast plate in front of you, loving how every now and then Harry would nudge you and make another joke.

Ron stuffed the robes back in the box, wanting to hide them from the eyes of fellow students. Most of the Gryffindor table had seen them by now, everyone had a good laugh, but the last thing Ron wanted was to catch anyone else’s attention.

So, naturally, that’s exactly what happened.

“Weasel, what was that?”

The four of you turned your attention towards Draco Malfoy, who sauntered over to your section of the Gryffindor table with his goonies by his side.

You immediately fought the urge to stand up and punch him in the face — a natural urge when around Malfoy.

“I guess considering how poor your family is, those awful dress robes are all you could afford,” Malfoy smirked at Ron’s flushed face, which was now facing the floor.

You stood up, “Oi, we didn’t ask for a conversation with an arrogant asshole today.”

Malfoy’s eyes shot daggers at you, Crabbe and Goyle flexing their ‘muscles’ as if trying to warn you, “How dare you—”

“—talk to me, yeah, I’ve heard the speech before,” you cut him off, crossing your arms across your chest, “Now, leave, thanks. Seeing your face made me lose my appetite.”

As if rendered speechless, Malfoy rolled his eyes and stormed off, followed by his two shadows. You smirked and sat back down, continuing to pick at your breakfast silently while Harry, Ron and Hermione smiled at you.

“What’re you all staring at?” you asked, not bothering to look up.

Ron shook his head, “I reckon I’ve never seen Malfoy speechless before.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s a gift, I leave people speechless.”

The three of them laughed, the conversation going back to normal as you finished off your breakfast, mentally preparing for another loooong day of classes.

— —

“There’s gonna be a ball?” you scoffed, turning to Hermione wide a bewildered expression, “We’re expected to dress up? Oh, the nightmare.”

She tried to stifle her smile so McGonagall wouldn’t call the two of you out, “It’s not horrible, is it? I think it’s about time we do something fancier here.” She glanced quickly over at Ron before turning her attention back to you. But, being as attentive as always, you caught her not-so-subtle glance.

You widened your eyes, faking a gasp, “You already know who you want to go with, don’t you?”

She shushed you quickly, trying to make sure no one heard your outburst. You could see the blush rise to her cheeks, already giving you the answer you needed. You knew damn well she had feelings for Ron, but she really did try her hardest to hide them.

“Y/N! Don’t just be blurting out stuff like that,” she forced a neutral expression, “And no. I don’t know who I want to go with. Nor does it matter.”

You nodded, not believing her, “Whatever answer floats your boat, I guess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “Well, who do you want to go with then?”

You turned away from her, eyes subconsciously darting towards Harry — who was so zoned out he didn’t even notice your glance — and turned back to Hermione, “No one. No one’s good enough, of course.”

She rolled her eyes, “I call your bluff.”

“Well call whatever bluff you want,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and turning away from her to face McGonagall, “Can’t fight the truth.”

She didn’t press the subject any further, but continued to peer at you through the corner of her eye, thankfully missing every time you looked over at Harry.

You couldn’t deny, Harry Potter was a catch. He was cute, fun to be around, and had recently fought off a dragon. I mean, the whole package, right? It wasn’t hard for you to develop a crush, the feelings came so naturally.

However, you were fairly certain the dark haired boy didn’t feel at all the same about you. He never showed interest, nor did he go out of his way to be with you. It stung a little when you’d catch him watching the perfect little Cho Chang make her way through the Great Hall, but you weren’t going to let it bring you down. He wasn’t yours, after all.

“Now, next time we meet I will be giving you dance lessons—”

You had finally tuned back in to what McGonagall was saying, trying your best to seem as if you hadn’t just floated off.

“—So, the rest of your class is a free period.”

You stood up hastily, grabbing Hermione’s wrist and walking over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, the two of them standing up and grumbling about dancing.

“Boy, oh, boy,” you let go of Hermione’s wrist and placed your hands on your waist, “A dance, huh? What’d ya think about that, Ronald? You gonna ask anyone?”

Ron’s face went blank and Hermione stomped discreetly on your foot, telling you that you had overstepped your boundaries. You hoped she’d forgive you for this.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Ron shrugged, looking between you and Hermione. You were destined to set those two up, nothing was going to stop you.

“You sure? C’mon, handsome lad like you’s gotta find a date. And you Hermione, you’re, ya know, smart and fun, don’t you want to bring a date as well?” you grinned, knowing damn well how uncomfortable you were making them. They both shifted awkwardly, stealing glances back and forth, none of them knowing what to say next. Ron’s feelings for Hermione were just as obvious, really.

“Well, I’ve made things weird, haven’t I?” you smirked, placing your arm around Harry’s neck. You ignored the way goosebumps formed at the contact, choosing to believe it was from how warm his skin was.

“Yes, you have, thanks,” Hermione spoke through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at you.

“Apologies,” you bowed slightly, “Let’s leave them be, Harry.”

Harry, laughing and sharing a confused expression with Ron, followed you out. You took your arm away from him, stealing a glance back to see that Ron and Hermione were still standing in awkward silence, and turned into the hallway.

“Nice work, maybe they’ll finally work up their courage,” Harry grinned at you, nodding approvingly at your set up, “You’re a natural matchmaker, Y/N.”

“See, they just needed a push, is all—oof,” you were cut off, bumping forcefully into a body of someone much larger than you. Your sight went dark, the only thing you knew was that the person tended immediately upon impact.

You pulled away, noticing the deathly glare Crabbe was now sending you.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sighed in relief, “It went dark for a second, I thought I saw the end.”

Harry coughed to hide his laughter, pulling lightly on your sleeve to tell to you walk away. His tugging only became more aggressive once Malfoy stepped out from behind Crabbe, the same pissed off expression as always laced into his features.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy,” Harry glared at him, the tension between the two of them rising significantly in a short amount of time. He let go of your sleeve, standing up straighter and squaring his shoulders.

“It was unfortunate, you know, that the dragon didn’t kill you,” Malfoy said lowly, clearly loving the fact that his friends laughed at his comment. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure what they had found funny. Was it a joke? What had he said that was so funny?

Harry rolled his eyes, motioning his head for you to follow him, and so you did so without question.

“You know, I was mistaken,” Malfoy’s voice echoed down the corridor, making both of you turn around once more. You were feeling both bored and angry — it was quite a strange mix. You were used to Malfoy’s taunts, having sat by while all of your friends — you included — fell victim, but a part of you particularly hated the way he spoke to Harry.

“Oh, yeah? About what? Please, for Merlin’s sake, enlighten us,” you snapped back, “We’re just dying to know.”

Malfoy’s eyes scanned your face before approaching the the both of you one more. Harry’s shoulder was pressed up against yours and you could feel his ragged his breathing had become. Malfoy always found a way under his skin and it bothered you a great deal.

“About Potter, I actually hope you do make it to the end, it’ll make your death that much more bittersweet,” Malfoy sneered, “For those who care, that is.”

“Gee, I always believed we Gryffindors were petty but that’s a whole new low,” you smirked, taking a step forward after pushing Harry back, telling him to let you handle the situations, “You know, I’ve come to a conclusion about you, Malfoy. The reason you’ve never said anything logical in your life is because you waste your breath insulting the people that you think care about your opinion.”

“Excuse me?” you had never seen Malfoy looked more appalled than in that moment. It was rather amusing.

“Was my English not easy enough for you to understand? Point proven,” you sighed dramatically, turning away from him and nudging Harry in the shoulder, “Oh, one more thing, Malfoy.”

You turned back to face him, “suck my dick.”

And with that, you turned back and walked away with Harry by your side, neither of you wanting to turn and gauge what Malfoy’s reaction would be.

Once you two were around the corner, Harry turned to you with wide eyes and his mouth broken into a wide smile. If this was the reaction you’d get for shutting down Malfoy, you’d gladly do it any day.

“That was epic, Y/N!” his hands grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly, “I’ve never actually had anyone stand up for me like that before, what made you do it?”

“Oh — I dunno,” you shrugged, feeling quite proud of yourself, “I stick up for my friends, I guess.” Friends. How you wished Harry could be more than just your friend.

“You’re incredible,” he grinned, taking his hands off of your shoulders and shaking his head in disbelief, “You know, I think I found the perfect friend in you. I love Ron and all but that was something else...”

As he trailed off, you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your eyes. Although that should make you weak in the knees, a part of you instinctively pulled away, flushing brightly at the encounter. You told yourself it was probably just the heat of the moment, the thrill of the comeback.

“Eh, no biggie,” you shrugged, “Asshole needs to be put in his place sometimes.”

You nodded awkwardly and began to continue in the path you were headed, until you noticed Harry was no longer by your side, still standing rooted where you two were not five seconds ago.

“Harry, you—,”

“I’m good, yeah,” he cut you off quietly, a light smile on his lips, “You’re the best.”

“I’ve been told,” you grinned, trying not to let his words get to you. He chuckled, walking forwards and standing next to you, eyes still staring into yours with intensity you didn’t think you could bear.

Awkwardly looking away, your cheeks heating up, you motioned your head down the hall, “We should get going before Hermione and Ron come after me like an angry mob.”

Harry nodded, eyes wide and turning away from you, shaking his head like he was clearing his thoughts, “Good point.”

And so the two of you walked off towards the common room, the silence tense and unsure, but not comfortable. Did Harry really mean what he said? Calling you ‘the best’ and all? It was flattering, especially coming from him, but did he mean it the way that you wanted to take it?

Fighting a mental battle, you stayed quiet until you reached the common room. You flopped down on the couch, nearly being hit by a firework that Fred and George were trying out in the corner of the room.

“How long do you think it’ll be before—,”

The portrait door swung open and a very flustered Ron and Hermione stumbled in, both looking tremendously irritated and uncomfortable.

Hermione stormed up to you, dragging you up by your collar, “You and I need to talk. Right now.”

Shocked by her outburst, you nodded, “If you wanted to get me alone you could have just asked—,” noticing her expression, she wasn’t in the joking mood, “Yikes, sorry, okay, let’s go upstairs.”

She continued to drag you up, the anger fueling her sudden burst of strength. You did feel kind of bad about leaving her and Ron, but it wasn’t like you openly said anything about her feelings towards him.

Upon reaching your dorm room and noticing it was empty, she shut the door and pointed a finger at you accusingly, “You. Why would you do that? That was humiliating!”

“Oh come on,” you sat on the edge of you bed and brought your legs up, sitting criss-crossed, “It couldn’t have been that bad. Did he ask you to the ball?”

“No!” she seethed, sitting down on hers as well, “All he said was that he indeed noticed I am a girl.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Four years in and he finally notices? I knew he wasn’t the brightest lightbulb in the chandelier, but wow.”

As if she agreed with your comment, the anger seemed to disappear from her face. She rushed off her bed and sat next to you, shoving you over slightly so she had space on the tiny bed.

“I think he’s already got his eye on someone. It’s not fun.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled before you could stop yourself. Hermione’s eyes shot up, giving you a quizzing look as you clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh! You like someone!” she grinned, lifting her hand to poke you in the shoulder, “You know about my feelings, I need to know about yours.”

“I don’t have feelings,” you defended, fighting back a blush and taking your hand away from your mouth, “Don’t turn this on me.”

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?” she smirked. You scolded yourself for having been obvious. Of course, the ever-so intuitive Hermione would catch onto who your crush was. It was an embarrassing attempt to hide it on your part.

“Listen, Hermione,” you pointed a finger at her, “Tell anyone and during the next dinner, they’ll be serving your head on a silver platter.”

She giggled, ignoring your threat and crossing her fingers over your heart, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Squinting at her, you figured you’d be able to trust her. She had been your friend for years and kept all your previous secrets. She might be able to keep this one as well.

“Fine,” you gave in, throwing your head back in frustration, “You’re right. It’s Harry.”

She gave you a toothy grin, wiggling her eyebrows, “Now, I have to set you two up.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you shot back, pointing your finger and shaking your head, “You’re gonna take his deep-rooted love for Cho away and, well, that’s just plain rude.”

“Oh, shut up, he’s barely ever spoken to her. It’s just an appearance thing,” she waved her hand, brushing off your comment, “Besides, I heard Lavender Brown say that Cho and Cedric Diggory are hanging out.”

Not overly shocked by the information, you leaned back onto your pillows, “Good for her. Diggory is a right catch if I say so myself.”

Hermione smacked your knee, “Sit up! Listen to me, you don’t need to pout, let’s just go down there and I’ll work my magic.”

You glared at her, not utterly convinced she was able to do much, but you followed her back downstairs nonetheless, figuring it was worth a shot. The worst that could happen was that Harry would not feel the same, distance himself from you, then you’d lose Ron and Hermione as well because they were his friends first and then you’d be left alone to suffer in self despair while they galavanted in friendship—

“Hey, Harry!” Hermione greeted a little too cheerfully once you two entered the seating area of the common room. Already embarrassed by her attempt, you didn’t notice the way Ron and Harry immediately stopped talking upon your entrance, sharing a look that could only mean ‘don’t say anything.’

“Er — hi, Hermione,” Harry smiled awkwardly.

You sat down on the couch next to Ron, who was eyeing Hermione with awe. He was so smitten, it was a miracle no one else noticed the way he looked at her.

“Ron, you’re pathetic,” you leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Ask her. Don’t make me threaten you into doing it.”

Ron shot you a look, “Not bloody likely.”

You turned away, shrugging, and stared into the fireplace. Harry was seated on your other side, not saying much, but the way he kept looking over at you made you think that he did actually have something he wanted to say.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, Cho is going to go to the ball with Cedric,” Hermione said, pretending it was no biggie but checking over repeatedly to see Harry’s reaction.

Upon noticed he didn’t say anything, she leaned closer to him, “Did you hear me Harry? Cho’s taken.”

Harry looked at her, eyes darting back and forth between you, Ron and her, “Yeah, I heard you.”

“Guess that means you can ask someone else,” Hermione grinned, leaning back.

You scolded yourself for telling her. She was being ridiculously obvious and it pained you to see her efforts. Did she think this was going to anywhere?

“Er — I guess,” Harry shrugged, glancing over at you for a millisecond before turning back towards the fire, “I guess I’ll wait and see how things go.”

Your heart did a slight flip. He didn’t mention having any other girl in mind, maybe that meant he didn’t. Which still gave you a shot, technically. Even if he didn’t see you that way just yet, maybe you’d have to turn on the charm. Flirt, make him see that you were actually interested.

Granted, flirting was never really your area of expertise. You weren’t good at it, nor did you really have any experience. But maybe, just maybe, with Hermione’s strange help, you’d be able to find a way to get him to notice you.

Plan Flirt with Harry was now in action.

— —

Over the next two weeks, things had been going relatively well. Hermione had toned down her strategy and was making you seem like much more of a natural.

You and Harry had even shared a few lingering touches, whether they be your hands touching at the table during dinner, or his elbow touching yours when you were sat in the common room. Nothing overly intimate, but enough to send sparks flying through your body at the feeling.

You had also noticed the way Ron and Harry seemed to drop whatever conversation they were having when you entered the room. Sure, they could have been discussing Hermione and Ron’s feeble attempts at his own flirting, but the way Harry would glance at you during meals and classes sent your head spiralling with the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were talking about you.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it was hard not to when the ball was getting closer by the day and neither you, nor Harry, had a date and he still hadn’t shown interest in anyone else.

“He asked me!” Hermione stumbled into the dorm room in excitement, causing you to jump out of your skin and nearly drop the book you were reading.

“Ron?” you grinned, sitting up, “Oh, that’s great, Hermione! I knew—,”

“Not Ron,” she rolled her eyes, flopping down on your bed, on top of your legs, “Viktor Krum.”

“Ohhhh,” your eyes widened, “You go, girl. Have you seen his jawline? I’d let him cut me with it, hot ass—”

Hermione laughed, pretending to shoot you a glare, “That’s my date you’re talking about.”

“Right, sorry,” you joined in on her laughter, closing your book and placing it on your night table, “But I really am happy for you.”

“Thanks,” her cheeks went pink as she turned to face you, “Can we go sit in the common room? It’s just Ron and Harry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sighed, flicking the warm blanket off of you and following her downstairs. She was radiating joy, and even though it wasn’t Ron that had ended up asking her, you could tell she was really looking forward to this date.

“Just ask her,” you heard Ron snap quietly once you two started making your way down the stairs, “I see the way she looks at you.”

“I can’t!” Harry snapped back, trying to keep his voice down, “She can do better anyways.”

“Yeah, bloody right,” Ron scoffed, “You fought a dragon.”

“It’s not the same, Ron, I— shush, I hear footsteps.”

The two of you walked into the room, noticing once again how Harry and Ron dropped their conversation upon landing sight on you two. So, Harry already had plans on asking someone to go to the ball. It hurt, you weren’t going to deny it. Of course he had someone else. He was Harry Potter, for goodness sake. Charming, funny, loyal, and brave. All the qualities to make a girl swoon.

“What are you two ladies gossiping about?” you pretended to be fine as you sat down on the opposite couch, placing your hands in your lap and trying to steady your now irregular heartbeat. Jealousy was slowly coursing through your veins and you hated it.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head, a fake look of innocence on his face. Ron nodded along, neither of them being very convincing.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Ron smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging Harry in the ribs. Harry, glaring at his friend, gave him a nudge right back. You chose to ignore the comment, focusing more on the look Hermione was giving you.

“Hi, Ron,” you replied back, not sure why he was grinning while glancing back and forth between you and Harry. He was always very strange.

Hermione sat down on the armrest of your chair, crossing her arms and nudging you in the side, telling you to start doing something.

“Harry, are you trying to figure out the second task?” you blurted out, not sure what you could have said that wouldn’t make the situation weird.

“Of course,” Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly, his eyes avoiding yours, “I think I’ve almost got it.”

You grinned, “Oh, that’s great. I knew you’d be able to figure it out.”

Hermione seemed more pleased by your comment, leaning back and letting the situation unfold.

“Harry’s real smart, you know,” Ron nudged Harry in the side again, a teasing expression on his face, “One of the smartest.”

“Thanks,” Harry glared at Ron, speaking with gritted teeth before turning back to you, his face softening, “I had help, though.”

“Modesty isn’t gonna make you win, y’know,” you smirked, admiring his honesty, “Take credit. Be proud of yourself.”

Harry’s cheeks were pink and he brushed the hair out of his forehead, “Thanks, Y/N.”

You could tell he was flustered, but you figured it was probably because of the compliments. Harry never really knew how to reply to them — you had noticed that over the years. For someone who was the bravest person you had ever met, he sure didn’t know how to deal with people.

“Oh, Ron, Ginny wanted to talk to us,” Hermione sat up quickly, clapping her hands together. Ron raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently, before standing up.

“She did?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Yes! She did,” Hermione sent a discreet wink in your direction before turning to Harry, “We’ll be back shortly!”

“Well, Y/N, Harry, be safe you two,” Ron picked up on what Hermione was doing, smirking as he made his way to exit the room, “Have fun!”

Harry glanced at Ron, his eyes wide. The two boys shared a look before Hermione dragged the ginger boy out the portrait hole behind her.

“Head on a silver platter, Hermione!” you called after her, your heart beating violently, “Head on a silver platter!”

The portrait swung shut and the room went dead silent. The only thing you could hear was the thump of your heart and the sudden nervousness that spread throughout your body at being alone with Harry.

You wanted to seize the chance and make a move, but you had just heard him talk about asking a girl to the ball, so was it a good idea? Probably not.

But as you looked at him, watching the way the flames flickered across his face and the way his messy hair stuck out in different directions, it took everything you had in you to not rush over there and tell him everything.

“Can I tell you something? Don’t tell Ron and Hermione,” he piped up quietly, turning to face you, the blue of his eyes making you weak. You were thankful he spoke first, it prevented you from spilling your guts and making a fool out of yourself.

“Sure,” you replied, getting up and walking towards the couch he was sitting on, making yourself comfortable on the opposite end.

He sighed deeply, “I haven’t figured out the egg.”

“You haven’t?” you spoke, shock evident on your face. You felt bad for acting so surprised, but you couldn’t help it. He had seemed so confident when he told you he had.

He shook his head silently, shrugging, “I don’t know what to do with it.”

You blinked rapidly, turning over to face the golden egg that was sitting on the table, “Why didn’t you want to tell the others? Hermione could probably figure it out.”

He turned to you, face pale, “No, don’t tell them. I just thought I’d tell you, I don’t know, I trust you.”

You fought back a grin, hiding your smile behind your hair so you didn’t look like an idiot. He probably didn’t mean it as a compliment but you took it as such.

“Well, I’ll help you, then,” you nodded, holding out your pinky, “I know we’re not children, but I pinky promise.”

He grinned, linking your pinky with his. For someone who had been through so much, he really did have soft skin. It was annoying. Pleasant, but annoying.

“I’m glad I have you around, Y/N.”

His gaze was so intense and wholesome that you struggled to hold back.

“The sappiness is gross, but I’m glad to be around,” you beamed, pulling your pinky away and turning back to your corner of the couch, leaning your head back and enjoying the softness of the cushion, your mind going back to the conversation you had heard between him and Ron. Who was he planning on asking?

Now was your chance — now or never.

“So — uh — who are you asking to the ball?” you asked, so silently Harry had to lean closer to you to hear it.

He stammered, “Oh — er — I dunno, yet. There’s a girl I have in mind but I don’t think she sees me that way.”

Your heart sank, but you turned to face him with a neutral expression, “I call bullshit. Who wouldn’t want to go with you?”

He seemed to think over your words for a second, a glimpse of fondness on his features, but he turned away and shook his head, “She’s different.”

“How so?” you regretted it as soon as you asked, knowing Harry was about to gush about some girl when you wished more than anything it was you he’d be gushing about.

“She’s bold,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips, “Not afraid to stick up for herself or the people she cares about. She’s smart, too, always has an answer for everything. A good friend — the best, really. And I know she’d be better off with someone who wasn’t me.”

You nodded, processing his words and trying to think of the girl he could be talking about. It completely crushed you, hearing him speak so highly of someone, but you knew that if anything, he’d be the one better off without you.

“Why’d you think that?” you began twiddling with your thumbs, avoiding his eyes, “Did she tell you or is it an assumption?”

“She didn’t tell me,” he quickly replied, shaking his head, “But she’s got such an incredible spirit, I’m worried I’d ruin it. You know, it’s funny. I always looked at her like she was just a friend, just someone that I’d got lucky to have around, but then one day, she did something, and it kind of clicked. After that, I couldn’t look at her the same. She was so much more beautiful, so much more radiant and lovely and I knew from then on that she was just... different to me. And I tried to tell myself she was never going to see me that way but the more I was around her, the harder it was.”

You bit your cheek, trying your best to hold back your oncoming emotions.

“Well, she’s lucky,” your voice was weak, shaky even, as you turned to face him.

His smile was clear as day and the love struck expression was still on his face as he turned to look at you, causing you to speak up one more, “What did she do that made you change your mind about her?”

The smile vanished from his face and the awkward expression returned. He raised his hand, rubbing the back of his neck and then through his hair, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next.

He dropped his hand and faced you, all traces of amusement gone from his face, “She stuck up for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words echoing in your mind. You nearly missed his hand reaching across the couch and grabbing yours, linking his fingers and running his thumb across your skin.

Had he been talking about you? It would make sense, you had stuck up for him against Malfoy a few weeks back, but had it really impacted him to the point where he was falling for you?

You didn’t want to complain, but you couldn’t believe it. You thought back to what he said, about seeing you as a friend and then as something more, that you were different and beautiful, even. It was nearly impossible to believe him just off of his words, you had embarrassingly dreamt of him admitting his feelings and it felt too good to be true, but his gentle tough and soft gaze grounded you to reality. He was telling you the truth.

“I’m talking about you, if you hadn’t caught on,” he tried to smile but it came off as more of a grimace, his nerves evident in his shaking hand and pale complexion.

You still couldn’t forumulate the words to say. For years you had always been the one to make a comeback, leaving others speechless — but now, you were the one speechless.

“Me?” you stared at him with wide eyes, heart violently thumping against your rib cage, trying to burst out and reach his, “Me?”

He retracted his hand rather quickly, “Unless — you know, unless you don’t feel the same.”

“No, wait,” you reached across and grabbed his hand, finally finding the courage to flash him a smile, “I do actually. I do feel the same.”

Relief flooded over him, his face regaining colour and his shoulders slouching back, “Oh, thank Merlin.”

The joy that had spread through you was indescribable. You didn’t think there could be a better feeling. Your heart seemed to swell and the tingling sensation in your fingers was everlasting. It was like a high you didn’t want to come down from. God bless Hermione and her intuition of leaving you two alone.

Plan Flirt with Harry had been a success.

— —

Hermione and Ron had quickly been informed of the confession between you two, both of them saying they had called it years back. Which didn’t make sense considering you didn’t have feelings for each other years back, but you let them enjoy their moment.

You had helped Harry try and figure out his second task, as promised, spending many a nights up late in the common room and telling each other things you wouldn’t tell someone if you were ‘just friends.’ You were having the time of your life, really. He had grown comfortable being intimate — holding your hand on the way to class or pecking your cheek in the Great Hall. (Hermione and Ron teased you two to no ends about it.)

Eventually, Harry had asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball — which you responded with ‘well, duh.’ So, as the night of the dance came around — you were actually looking forward to it now — you had gotten ready with Hermione and strolled down to the Great Hall, ready to finally dance the night away with the boy you had fallen for.

Reaching the stairs, you noticed him and Ron standing at the bottom, both looking out of place. Ron — donning his ugly dress robes — had worked up the courage to ask one of the Patil twins. Which one, you didn’t remember. He had asked her out of desperation, it was rather sad.

“It’s embarrassing to be seen next to you, Ronald,” you tapped him on the shoulder once you arrived at the bottom. He spun around, his face laced with humiliation.

“They’re ancient,” he groaned, lifting his arms to show you the frills.

“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you,” you winked and ruffled his hair, turning to face Harry.

His eyes scanned you up and down in your dress, but you were too focused on how good he looked to feel at all self conscious. You had only ever really seen him in sweaters and his Gryffindor robes. This was a whole new level of glo-up.

“You look gorgeous,” he grinned, linking his hand with yours and pulling you closer to him, “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, grinning, “Well, what can I say? I’m a catch.”

“That you are,” he nodded, sticking out his arm for you to take, “We have first dance since I’m Champion.”

You nodded, linking your arm in his and standing by his side. You weren’t exactly a good dancer, but if you had Harry by your side you’d be too focused on him as opposed to the crowd around you.

“Shall we go in then, Champion?” you turned to face him, chin held high.

“We shall,” he replied in the same noble manner, chin up, and began leading you into the ball.

He was well worth the wait.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfics #harry potter x reader #harry potter reader insert

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falsegoodnight · 4 years ago

Text

as per request, here’s a rec list of my favorite canon compliant and non-aus!

note: based on the ask i received, i wasn’t sure if mpreg/abo were off-limits so i only included a few of those - it’s all indicated so you can avoid that if it’s not what you’re looking for!

also: some of these i read a long long time and only vaguely remember so keep that in mind! they’re marked with a *!

✰ burnt & tied up by @tllthesundies | E | 6k

Come to the show tonight, Harry told him. Begged him. Pleaded with him.

Louis isn’t doing this for him.

✰ Makes Perfect by checkthemargins | E | 9k

"What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?" Louis presses. "Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don't know, a pillow or something. Whatever it'd fit around."

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. "It's different, though, innit? When it's a real person. A pillow won't snog me."

"Why should it?" says Louis. "You can't even take its bra off."

✰ How’s About We Make A Baby? by @the-cheshire-pussy-cat | M | 12k | mpreg

Everyone always talks about how Harry Styles would very much like a baby. Louis would swear on his grave that he's doing everything he can to give him one.

✰ Just Let Me by @helloamhere | E | 15k | abo

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

✰ bang bang (my baby shot me down) by @thepolourryexpress | E | 17k

Harry wants a little more in the bedroom and has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth.

✰ late night devil (put your hands on me) by @goodmorninglou | E | 20k | abo

Harry Styles has always put up with him. With every snip of attitude, every idiotic act of stubbornness, every harsh and sour word. Each time Louis thinks he's stepped too far, clung too tight, bitten too hard, Harry is there to forgive him, to protect him, to hold him. Maybe he was naive to think that, no matter how hard he pushed, Harry would never move.

Maybe he should have seen it coming.

✰ england has my bones by @tllthesundies | E | 24k

The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.

✰ Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble by @crazyupsetter | E | 26k

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

✰ True North* by navigator & quitter | E | 26k

Altered-canon non-au set between November 2012 and January 7th, 2013.

✰ we can take the long way home by eleadore | E | 27k | implied mpreg

The band takes a break. Harry and Louis come together.

✰ the way this river runs by @soldouthaz | E | 27k

Louis is provided a chance to start over. He takes it.

✰ like a timebomb ticking by @infinitelymint | M | 32k

Louis loses everything. Harry's still there.

✰ what’s yours is mine to make your own by @soldouthaz | E | 40k

Sometimes, the closest Harry ever feels to home is Louis. It's their shared hotel rooms on tour, their shoes toed off in the doorway next to each other, jackets hung on the same post.

It's everything he doesn't notice until it's been taken away from him.

✰ Something in the World Today by @crazyupsetter | E | 48k

It shouldn’t be a surprise, the first time that Louis drops to his knees in front of Harry. It shouldn’t be, because it’s been something that Louis has needed for a long time. It shouldn’t be, because he’s been crawling out of his skin for weeks on end. It shouldn’t be, because Harry always makes him feel better. It shouldn’t be, because he’s needed this even when he didn’t know that he needed it.

Somehow, it still is.

✰ Swallow The Knife by @crazyupsetter | E | 76k

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

*note: i only included three fics from whoknows on this list but they have a whole bunch of canon-compliant fics, all of which are incredible!

✰ Untangle Me* by suicxne | E | 103k

The one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.

✰ the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by @obviouslybecauselarry | E | 138k | mpreg

The one in which One Direction in 2015 still includes Zayn, and nothing has been right between Harry and Louis for a long time now. Louis is certain that the situation he finds himself in won't change anything at all - he doesn't want it to, if he is honest with himself, as he doesn't want this situation to be a situation in the first place.

✰ And Then A Bit* by @infinitelymint | E | 159k

Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.

✰ Hiding Place* by @alivingfire | E | 365k

The canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

If you read any of these lovely fics, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

#my fic recs #canon compliant recs #non au recs #i was supposed to do this later #but procrastinating assignments is my talent

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voiceless-terror · 4 years ago

Note

(if you feel like it) what about “snowed in” or “comfort” with jontim for the tma december bingo? my jontim brainrot never stops and I’d love to see what you come up with (I’m sure it’d be amazing as always) thanks so much !

The JonTim brainrot is real and appreciated! I combined this prompt with one of @balanced-to-a-tea‘s, who asked for Secret Santa with the season one archives gang! Here there be 3.5k words of gifts, pining, and kisses of the Jon/Tim variety :)

“It’s a mess out there,” Tim reported, plopping down in his office chair and looking strangely cheerful, given the situation. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”

There were audible groans all around, though Jon’s was quieter than the others. If he were being honest, their current situation was his fault- he asked them to hang back at the end of the day and help him with some unreachable boxes (unreachable for him, that is). He was trying to get into the habit of checking the weather in the mornings, though he never managed to actually do it until he was too far from his flat to get an umbrella or a heavier coat. This resulted in a few sticky situations, including several occasions of arriving late, looking like a drowned rat.

“And here I was going to tuck in for the night, have a glass of wine, blast the heat at unreasonable levels,” Sasha complained, doing a half-hearted twirl in her chair. “Terrible!”

“What if we lose power?” Martin fretted, still outfitted in his coat and scarf. “I heard there’s going to be high winds. High winds!” Jon’s guilt increased. Being stuck with his (likely angry) staff in the Archives was not a great start to his career as Head Archivist. And just when we were getting along again…

“I’m sorry,” he began, his hands fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have started this project so late, I didn’t realize the weather would get quite as nasty as it did…”

“Don’t worry about it, boss!” Tim grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, an act Jon would usually scowl at him for. “Should’ve told you ‘bout the storm. You never check the weather reports.” Jon flushed; Tim knew him too well. “Besides, I can’t say I was expecting it to get this bad; London’s not known for its prodigious snowfall.”

“You don’t seem too put-out by it.” Martin eyed Tim suspiciously as he began to unwind his scarf. “You’re smiling.”

“Well, yeah!” Tim swirled around, eyeing them all with an unfettered glee. Jon wondered what he had in mind; there was never a dull moment when Tim had free time. He’d learned that the hard way. “There’s something so romantic about being snowed-in, don’t you agree, Jon?”

Jon did not agree; being trapped, even in a big building like the Institute, left him feeling anxious and restless. Sasha agreed, if her rolled eyes were anything to go by. Martin seemed to be considering it, though.

“I suppose there’s something poetic about it?” he mused, leaning back against the wall. “The snow falling, blanketing the ground in white…” All eyes turned to him and he blushed under the scrutiny.

“See! Martin’s got the spirit.” Tim clapped his hands and got to his feet. “We’ve got leftovers from lunch in the fridge. Between that and Martin’s stash of tea biscuits, we won’t go hungry. And there’s that weird frozen lasagna in the back of the freezer…”

“We don’t have an oven, Tim,” Jon pointed out. “And I’m fairly certain that’s been in there for more than a year.”

Tim continued, impervious to any criticism. “And if we have to stay the night, Jon’s got that cot he thinks we don’t know about-”

“Hey-!”

“-and we can raid all the break rooms for their gross cushions-”

“I am not sleeping here,” Sasha said, punctuating the statement with a slam of a hand on her desk. “The weather report says it's supposed to pass over soon. We’ll only be here for a few hours, tops.”

“Weather reports are wrong all the time, Sash! Think of the fun we could get up to.” Tim smiled and Jon’s heart stuttered without his permission, most likely due to the idea of what Tim considered ‘fun.’ With the way his eyes lit up, however, Jon couldn’t fight a small smile. “Ooh! We could do Secret Santa, like we used to do in Research. Remember?”

Jon did remember. He still kept some of the gifts he’d received, mostly small trinkets from Tim and Sasha that somehow managed to give him a small thrill of happiness whenever he saw them. Still, he didn’t know how they could do such a thing in the Archives, with nothing around that could constitute a gift.

“How’re we supposed to do that?” Martin asked, sharing Jon’s concern. “Statements and office supplies are the only things we have access to.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tim replied, nudging Martin with his foot. “We’ll get creative! I’m sure with a little thought and effort, we can all find something suitable.” He’d already begun to scribble their names on a piece of paper. “C’mon, it’ll pass the time. Please?” Jon sighed, unable to argue when Tim used his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Tim’s whoop of enthusiasm. “But don’t expect anything extravagant. I’m not feeling particularly creative.”

“I guess it could be a good distraction,” Sasha acquiesced, with Martin nodding tentatively. “How long do we get to find a gift? Or make one, I suppose.”

“An hour? Two? Then we can all meet back here and exchange!” Tim nodded, and without waiting for any agreement he crumpled the pieces of paper into a cup and stood up. “Martin, you first. No peeking!”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, reaching in with one hand with his head turned pointedly away. He pulled out a slip of paper and immediately turned red upon opening it. “Um, alright. Yeah.” Maybe he got Tim, Jon mused.

Sasha picked next, her face giving nothing away. Tim held the cup out to Jon, waggling his eyebrows. He ignored this, reaching in to pick one of the remaining two slips of paper. Tim!! It read, with several smiley faces and hearts. He felt his own face heating up and shoved the slip into his pocket, staring at the floor.

“And last but certainly not least, me!” Tim took the last slip with a flourish, grinning at what he read. The four of them stared at each other for an awkward beat until Tim broke the silence with a shrill whistle.

“What are you waiting for? Clock’s a tickin’!”

Fuck.

________

It had been an hour and a half. As far as Jon knew, Tim and Sasha were waiting in the break room, steadily demolishing Martin’s stash of sweets, the man himself having locked himself in Document Storage and thereby eliminating one more place for Jon to scavenge for a gift (not that there was anything in there, but it was the principle of the thing). So now here he sat, moping in his office with nary an idea for what to give Tim.

Tim. He was glad they’d started talking again, albeit not with the same frequency as before. There was of course an adjustment period, that was to be expected- especially when someone younger and arguably less qualified than quite a few candidates suddenly became your boss. But Tim had always been there for him, tolerated his quirks, helped him through a breakdown or two. He stuck by his side when most people in the department couldn’t stand him. Perhaps, with some time, they could go back to being as close as they were. Or closer.

Jon tamped that thought down- it was ridiculous to even think about, now that he was his boss. Professional boundaries aside, what would Tim even see in him? It wasn’t his fault Jon read into every wink, every casual word of praise. A hug or a warm arm around his shoulder that he leaned into instead of turning away. Tim did that with everyone, Jon wasn’t special. He wasn’t Sasha, with her beautiful laugh and her razor-sharp wit. Hell, he’d probably pick Martin over him. Someone nicer, with less sharp edges. Someone who laughed as easily as he did.

Someone who wasn’t Jon.

He shook himself from these thoughts, attempting to concentrate on the task at hand. What did he have that Tim could possibly want? Not his rubber band ball, though he knew that Tim was jealous of its now astronomical proportions (he added to it when he was stressed, which he always was these days). Not the stale packet of crisps in the bottom of his drawer. He thought vaguely of getting a book he thought Tim would like from the library, but that was more of a loan. Maybe an article he found interesting? Tim always used to read the ones Jon forwarded him, and even had a thing or two to say at the end of them. But maybe he found them annoying. Maybe he just did that to shut Jon up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jon’s thoughts kept straying to the foyer of the institute, where festive decorations had been set up at the start of the month, most likely Rosie’s doing. There was a beautiful handmade wreath, filled with pinecones and red flowers and other seasonal flora. He remembered back in Research, when Tim would terrorize them all with stupid little pranks and games, his main target being Jon. Jon would always duck away, grumble and complain, and Tim didn’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll indulge him just this once.

Mind made up, he slipped out of his office.

________

Tim watched his three friends with undisguised amusement.

Martin was fidgeting in his seat, constantly crinkling the grocery bag he’d decorated to look more seasonal. Tim knew at once that he’d gotten Jon; he wouldn’t have turned that red for anyone else. Poor sod. Tim had Sasha, a gift he wouldn’t sweat over. She appreciated a good gag. He was fairly certain Sasha got Martin, judging by her neutral, unbothered expression.

Or maybe he just hoped she did. Because that would mean that Jon got Tim.

Not that it would mean anything. He was just interested in what Jon would pick out, that’s all. He could be surprisingly thoughtful, if past gifts were anything to go by. He still had the small box of fidget toys on his desk, where they got regular use.

He clapped his hands decisively, attempting to clear his mind of any more Jon-thoughts. “Well, then. As the emcee for this event, I’ll go first. Sasha, may I present to you the Tim Stoker Coupon Bonanza, valued at over one thousand dollars- but for you? Free!”

He revealed it with all the fanfare of a marriage proposal, bending down on one knee to hand over a binder of hastily drawn nonsense that Sasha would surely appreciate. She took it just as delicately, thumbing through the pages with a delightful smirk.

“One free coffee from the place around the corner?” She put a hand to her chest in faux- surprise. “Tim, you shouldn’t have!” Never mind that he already got her coffee every morning.

“I know, I know. I’m too generous, really.”

“One three hour lunch break. Don’t think Jon would like that.”

“He can come along. Marto too!”

“One date to the Jade Buffet, where we will split the check- Tim, the rest of these are more for you than they are-”

“Moving on!” He interrupted. “Sasha, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” She ignored his wink, shutting the book with an over-exaggerated sigh. She reached out for a small bag on her desk, which she handed over to Martin. He thanked her quietly, unwrapping a mug- Sasha’s favorite, with a cartoon of a dog that she’d hand-painted (Sharpie’d, would be more accurate) to look like one of those highland cows Martin was always going on about. The entire effect was monstrous, but Martin seemed touched. Tim was happy too, as this meant Jon must have drawn his name.

“Oh that’s- that’s so nice, thank you Sasha!” His smile was infectious, even Jon wasn’t immune to it (though he tried to hide it).

“It’ll probably come off if you wash it, so I wouldn’t actually use it,” Sasha advised. “But it could make a nice pencil holder.”

“Oh! That’s handy-”

“Ahem!” Tim once again interrupted; he was eager to see what Martin had whipped up for Jon, considering he’d holed himself up for about two hours. “Martin, I believe it’s your turn?”

“Um, y-yeah.” He put the cup down with some reluctance, picking up the bag he’d decorated with snowflakes and trees and handing it over to Jon, who looked surprised that anyone had gotten him anything. It was an expression Tim was used to; Jon never expected kindness, even in circumstances when he would very clearly receive it. Silly man.

As soon as Jon began to reach into the bag, Martin stumbled through an explanation. “You don’t need to keep it, n-not if you don’t want, but y-you’re always saying you’re cold and y’know, I have extras, so-”

Martin had given Jon one of his many scarves, this one a worn, dark green that was sure to look lovely with his skin tone. He spent two hours deciding on that? It was a nice gift, for sure. Jon held it in his hands like it was completely foreign to him, though Tim could see him running his fingers over the knit appreciatively, looking at it with wide eyes.

“B-But this is your scarf, Martin,” he said, once he found the words. “I can’t-”

“Well now it’s yours,” Martin replied, his voice steadying with resolve. “Anyway, I um- it’s got your name on it. Or your initials, at least.” He gave a nervous laugh, his face turning even redder if possible.

And sure enough, at the end of the scarf was a small, messy embroidered J.S., along with a crude attempt at a small cat face. The effort was adorable, and it sent a pang through Tim’s chest for several reasons he didn’t want to name.

“T-That’s- well, thank you, Martin.” Jon ran his fingers over the small ‘J’ as if it would disappear if he looked away. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Jon placed it almost reverently back in the bag, giving Martin a rare, genuine smile, one that Tim wished he had put on his face. Stop that.

“Jon’s turn!” he said, mustering up his last bit of enthusiasm. “I for one have no idea who Jon got, so this is going to be a real surprise-”

“S-Shut up, Tim.” Jon muttered, reaching for something behind him. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small sprig of what looked to be pine needles, because it couldn’t be what Tim thought it was, no sir, that wouldn’t make sense-

He watched as Jonathan Sims moved closer and with shaking hands and a beet-red face, moved up on his tippy-toes to hold a tiny sprig of mistletoe above their heads. And then, in what surely must have been a hallucination or a dream sequence, two lips met his in a tiny peck of a kiss that was over before Tim could truly register it.

He stared unblinking as Jon sank back on his heels, his eyes still tightly shut from the kiss. Tim brought a hand up to his mouth, the warm tingle of slightly chapped lips on his still fresh in his mind. Jon began to stutter in the absolute silence of the room, stumbling backwards without looking up from his feet.

“I’m, um- I-I have to. S-Sorry! I’m going to... goodbye now.”

And with that Jonathan Sims fled the room, leaving three stupefied assistants in his wake.

_________

“Knock Knock!”

Tim tried to keep his voice as light as possible. He didn’t think Jon could stand anything more than that right now.

He’d given him a half hour of solitude, enough for him to overcome whatever embarrassment he felt over the encounter. Martin was stewing in a corner, looking shell-shocked and mopey over the turn of events. Tim was just as shocked as he was. Little Jonathan Sims, grumpy researcher and now even grumpier Head Archivist, giving Tim a kiss? Under the mistletoe?

“Go get him,” Sasha smirked, kicking his chair. “Bring him some food. And maybe return the favor.”

So he took a plate of reheated Pad Thai and a bottle of rum he kept under his desk for special occasions, hoping to win Jon over. Let him know the kiss was much appreciated, and that perhaps he’d like another if Jon was so inclined.

The man jumped up from his desk, where he’d had his head pillowed in his arms and his chunkiest cardigan wrapped around him for warmth. It was getting colder, and Tim hadn’t checked outside recently, too distracted by current events. His face was still flushed red, and he wouldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I’ll have to change that.

“Thought I’d come bearing gifts.” He waved the bottle of rum around for Jon to see as he walked into the room. “Of the food and drink variety. But I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the break room.” He threw in a wink for good measure- God, why couldn’t he ever be serious? He always fell back on jokes and teasing words.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon groaned, reaching out for the rum and pouring a liberal amount into a mug that previously housed tea. He still avoided Tim’s eyes. “That was completely inappropriate, I-I just couldn’t think of-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he placed the food down on Jon’s desk, ignoring the pain in his heart at the apology. So he didn’t mean it. He plopped down on Jon’s couch, trying to feign a lightness he didn’t feel as he drank straight from the bottle. “No harm, no foul. It was nice.” He shrugged. Jon moved from his desk to join him on the couch, looking so adorable and cozy that Tim had to restrain from taking him in his arms. He watched as Jon took two large mouthfuls of the rum, knocking it back like a champ. Jesus. And then he raised his eyes to his, meeting them with a wide-eyed hopefulness that made Tim’s heart stutter in his chest.

“So- so you didn’t mind?”

“Nope.” Tim took another sip of the rum, wondering where this was going. He wouldn’t…

“Then you-,” Jon gulped, seemingly gathering his courage. “You wouldn’t mind if we- that is, if I maybe did it again?”

Tim stared.

“I-I still have the mistletoe.”

Jon sat there, so earnest and vulnerable, his hands fidgeting with the drink in his lap. Tim remembered the first time he laid eyes on him, the taciturn young researcher with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He imagined asking him on a date, getting to know the man under that prickly exterior. Making him laugh, getting that rare smile that Martin got today. But he didn’t seem interested and Tim never wanted to push it, too respectful of his boundaries.

But maybe he hadn’t imagined the way Jon leaned into his touch. How he laughed at Tim’s shitty jokes a bit longer than necessary. That the looks he got in the library weren’t ones of annoyance, but fondness. So he set the bottle down, took the drink out of Jon’s hands and replaced it with the warm grip of his own. His voice came out low, quiet and serious and utterly unlike him.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And he leaned in and kissed Jonathan Sims, just like he wanted to do all those years ago.

It was a sweet, lingering thing- the taste of rum on his lips, lips that parted so easily for Tim like he’d been waiting, wanting this for so long, maybe even as long as Tim had. And when they finally parted, Jon stared at him with those deep brown eyes and gave him the smile he’d been wishing for and it was just for him. He put that there.

“Was-was that okay?” he murmured, feeling nervous and open under Jon’s intense gaze.

“Yes,” was the whispered response. He let out a small, charming laugh that Tim would always remember when he thought back to this night, the first night of many stolen kisses and secret smiles. “I-I liked that.”

“Well, good!” Tim could no longer contain the urge to have Jon in his arms and pulled him to his chest, appreciating the small squeak it earned him. “Because there’s more where that came from.” Jon leaned into his touch, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth from Tim that he could. It felt so utterly right to be here, on this uncomfortable couch with an armful of the man he’d been pining over for the last three years. Score, a giddy part of his mind yelled. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of affection finally realized when Jon’s head perked up from his chest, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Do you think Rosie’s going to notice I nicked her mistletoe?”

Tim snickered. “Oh, absolutely. But I’ll take the fall. She’s not getting that back.”

Jon was always thoughtful with his gifts. And this was one he intended to keep.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201134

#prompt fill #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jontim #jonathan sims #tim stoker #advent archives #fluff #pining #i will not apologize for the sappiness of this #submit to my jontim agenda #cinnamoniic

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

an au, if you're interested: the Wen Sect annex Qinghe Nie shortly after the Sect Leader's death, and young NMJ and NHS are raised as Qishan Sect cultivators, with all of Wen Ruohan's "gentle encouragement" to ensure it happens. What does the Sunshot Campaign look like, with the Wen wielding the force of Qinghe Nie as?

Nie Huaisang liked to braid his brother’s hair.

Proper Nie braids, the way it should be, no matter where they were or what happened to them – it’s very calming to him, and he liked to think his brother enjoyed it, too. He’d certainly fought hard enough for the privilege.

Wen Ruohan wasn’t very big on privileges, though he made certain exceptions for Nie Mingjue. Outside of formal events, which were an exercise in control and humiliation, Nie Huaisang’s brother could dress as he liked, provided he stayed within the boundaries of the Wen sect colors of white and red; the remaining details were left to his own discretion.

Since then, Nie Mingjue mostly wore white.

Not pretty white with embroidery, the way the Lan sect did, and definitely nothing with the red sun; just sheer unrelieved white.

Funeral clothing.

Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure if it was meant to mourn their father, who’d died so long ago now – Nie Huaisang was too young to remember much about him – or if Nie Mingjue was merely mourning everything that had happened since then. The loss of their sect, of their identities, of…

Nie Huaisang’s hands slowed, and then paused.

After a moment, Nie Mingjue stirred. “Huaisang? Is something the matter?”

“Would it be easier,” Nie Huaisang said, “if you were married?”

He could feel the way Nie Mingjue’s shoulders tensed under his hands.

“I’m not going to marry Wen Ruohan,” his brother said after a moment, his voice harsh. “He killed our father, stole our birthright, and imprisoned us here. I’m not going to marry him.”

“Wen Chao said that he’d probably make you Madame Wen, if you agreed,” Nie Huaisang said. “You wouldn’t have to kill people for him, if you agreed.”

Nie Mingjue was the Wen sect’s saber. He trained the Wen cultivators and led them in battle; wherever Wen Ruohan pointed, he went, and where he went, people rarely survived. That was the deal Nie Mingjue had struck, years ago, when the Wen sect had invaded Qinghe the very day after their father was murdered – a premeditated two-pronged attack, designed to eliminate all obstacles.

Nie Huaisang didn’t remember much from that day. They had been weak, defenseless, vulnerable – the food at dinner had been poisoned, spies from within turning on them. He himself had been one of the most sick, unable to stop himself from constantly vomiting, his veins turning blue as the poison spread through his young body; without the antidote, he would have died that day.

After all, it hadn’t been him Wen Ruohan had come for.

Their father had been right, it seemed, to have gone to such lengths to hide the fact that his eldest son was a misaligned reincarnation, a man’s soul born into a body that didn’t match. It had been a tricky situation: if Nie Mingjue had been a woman, Qinghe Nie would have honored their word to make a marriage alliance with Qishan Wen, direct heir to direct heir, and if he’d been a man born into a man’s body, there would have been no question of any marriage alliance at all.

But Nie Mingjue was neither, and Qishan Wen didn’t recognize misaligned reincarnations.

Their father had decided to live up to his principles: his son was his son, not his daughter, and therefore the marriage agreement was inapplicable. He could always marry off another daughter, if he had one.

They’d kept it a secret for over a decade – but in the end, Wen Ruohan found out. He felt that he’d been cheated, and he was determined to take what he believed he was owed.

Wen Chao had once told Nie Huaisang that the original plan had been to marry Nie Mingjue to Wen Xu. Nie Mingjue would have the position of first wife, as a sop to Qinghe Nie’s honor, but that was all, and never mind how everyone know how badly Wen Xu treated his women, concubine or official wife alike.

That plan had been ruined when Nie Mingjue, sick with poison and grief and far too young, had nevertheless found the strength to lift up his saber and attack Wen Xu in the entranceway to the Unclean Realm – not only to attack, but to defeat; not only to defeat, but to permanently cripple.

He’d been only moments away from claiming Wen Xu’s head when Wen Ruohan had finally condescended to come to his son’s defense.

That fight hadn’t gone nearly as well.

(The only thing Nie Huaisang remembered from that day was this:

Wen Ruohan standing there with his foot on Nie Mingjue’s chest, pressing him down into the floor with a smile as he said, “You’re very talented. I’ll do you the honor of taking you as my own bride, instead.”

“I’d rather die first,” Nie Mingjue had spat back.

“I’m sure you would, stubborn Nie that you are,” Wen Ruohan had said agreeably, and removed a jar from his waist; it had been the antidote. “But how about your brother? Your sect disciples? Would you rather they died first, too?”)

In the end they’d struck their deal. The Nie sect disciples was not put to death by poison and sword, as originally intended, but was instead absorbed into Qishan Nie’s forces, and Nie Mingjue was not forced to marry as long as he served Wen Ruohan as his weapon.

“I gave up on having principles when I burned the Cloud Recesses,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice flat. “It doesn’t bother me any longer.”

That was a lie, and they both knew it. Nie Mingjue might have traded away his principles for the lives of his family, of his sect, but he’d never given them up, not really – or else the Cloud Recesses wouldn’t have had so much time to empty out their Library Pavilion before it was put to the flame.

(Wen Chao said that Nie Mingjue had been friends with Lan Xichen, once. Sending him to do the job was meant to hurt.)

“And anyway, haven’t I told you to stop talking with Wen Chao?” Nie Mingjue added, and Nie Huaisang can see in the mirror the way his brother’s lips twist in anger. “He always tells you bad things.”

That was true, and Nie Huaisang acknowledged it. Still, Wen Chao wasn’t that bad – he had been, before, when he was still the spoiled oversexed princeling who didn’t think anyone on earth had the right to tell him no, but Nie Mingjue had beaten him black and blue over his womanizing enough times that he’d finally started to shape up in sheer self-defense.

Realizing that his father had lost interest in rescuing him had had quite an impact.

And anyway, it wasn’t like Nie Huaisang had many other friends here, especially not ones that were as useless as he was.

There was Wen Ning, who was nice, but he was an excellent archer and his sister had made him a decent doctor’s assistant, probably so that he’d have a reason not to be stuck in the Sun Palace; he was away more often than not, and Nie Huaisang couldn’t hold it against him.

There was Meng Yao, officially serving as his brother’s deputy; he was slippery as a snake, working his way into Wen Ruohan’s favor through all sorts of horrific inventions of torture, but he was efficient and useful enough to almost make up for it. Nie Huaisang knew better than to fall for his gentle smiles.

Who was there beyond that?

Wen Xu was a raving madman, having never recovered from his defeat at Nie Mingjue’s hands, and the only other person of sufficient rank to speak with Wen Ruohan’s wards was Wen Zhuliu – and Nie Huaisang didn’t like Wen Zhuliu.

Nobody did, except maybe Wen Ruohan.

“Without him telling me things, I wouldn’t know them,” Nie Huaisang said. “Like the fact that serving as Wen Ruohan’s executioner doesn’t excuse you from having to serve him in bed.”

The arms of the chair broke under the strength of Nie Mingjue’s fists, but Nie Huaisang’s hands were still in his hair, and they were unmoved. His brother would never take any action that could hurt a single hair on his head, no matter how angry he was, and they both knew it.

“He told you that?” Nie Mingjue said through gritted teeth.

“He did,” Nie Huaisang said. “You lied to me, da-ge. Maybe only through omission, but…you lied. You let me think that being his weapon would be enough for him.”

“Nothing is ever enough for him,” Nie Mingjue said. “The Cloud Recesses was burned, the Lotus Pier was split open like a rotted peach, Koi Tower is all but suing for terms of surrender – and none of it is enough.”

Nie Huaisang knew.

Oh, how he knew.

He started braiding his brother’s hair again.

They sat there in silence, surrounded by the wood splinters that had once been part of Nie Mingjue’s chair, and there was no sound by the soft whisper of heavy hair being moved, the quiet clink of metal as Nie Huaisang wove in the simple decorations his brother favored.

“Do you want me to marry him?” Nie Mingjue asked after some time had passed. He sounded tired. “You and your clever plans – would it help if I knelt before the entire world and bowed to the Heavens and the Earth with him? If I profaned our father’s spilled blood by letting his murderer greet him as father-in-law?”

“I’m not saying that,” Nie Huaisang said neutrally.

“But it would help. In – whatever it is.”

It would.

Nie Huaisang has hated Wen Ruohan for as long as Nie Mingjue had. Wen Ruohan never paid much attention to him except as Nie Mingjue’s weakness, and even less after he’d discovered that Nie Huaisang had a weak natural talent and a disposition to be lazy and useless no matter what punishments it brought down on his brother’s head.

What was the point in paying serious attention to someone like that?

After all, how much damage could some useless person who could barely cultivate really do? The only thing he’d ever done that was remotely interesting was setting up a thriving business in erotic art – yes, it was a surprise that it was so successful, with customers in Yunmeng, in Gusu, in Lanling, in dozens of small sects across the cultivation world, yes, but…really. What a tawdry business, and all of it for no reason other than to bankroll Nie Huaisang’s habit of buying fans – and those came from all over, too.

From Yunmeng, from Gusu, from Lanling, from dozens of small sects.

Nie Huaisang especially liked the ones that Wei Wuxian, currently stationed in Yiling, would put together for him. They were always so very clever.

“He’d want children, if we married,” Nie Mingjue said. His eyes were closed in the mirror, his forehead wrinkled in pain as he seriously considered the idea of selling his body for a plan he had never permitted himself to know the details of. Nie Huaisang had never hated himself more than in this moment. “You know he’s wanted for years to replace his sons; he’s only refrained from demanding it because he knows I’d detonate my own golden core first.”

“They say that Lan Qiren is thinking of holding lectures again,” Nie Huaisang replied, changing the subject – it was true, of course. Wen Ruohan wanted Nie Mingjue to bear him better sons than the failures he had; he wanted him the way he had him during formal events, hair arranged and face painted like a proper lady in a dress to match, and he wanted him like that all the time. “In Hejian, since the Cloud Recesses is still being rebuilt. I never did manage to pass that course, the last time.”

He didn’t say that it would be a good excuse for explaining Nie Mingjue’s change of heart. His brother knew.

Anyone who was listening – and there was always someone listening – would only think that Nie Huaisang was exhorting his brother for his own selfish purposes.

That’s what this had to sound like.

“Besides, a niece or nephew wouldn’t be so bad,” he added, finishing the final braid. “Though I know you’d hate being pregnant, da-ge – they say too much exercise is bad for a child, damaging. You’d have to stop training.”

Stop fighting, he meant. With Wen Xu dead and all the leaders of the army loyal to Nie Mingjue, Wen Ruohan’s army would disappear much faster than the man would expect.

It’d be all for nothing, though, if they couldn’t get someone to drop the Nightless City’s defenses, build up over the past few years with all the treasures Wen Ruohan had looted away from the other sects. That was something no one could do but the master of the city –

Or its mistress.

“I’ll think about it,” Nie Mingjue said, and that was very nearly a yes.

“I’d like to take Wen Ning with me, he’s nice,” Nie Huaisang said. “Wen Qing, too, since he’s so sickly…do you think Wen Chao would like it, if I convinced him there’d been plenty of pretty girls there?”

Wen Chao hadn’t so much as looked at a girl since Nie Mingjue had executed Wang Lingjiao for having disfigured another woman out of jealousy, but bad reputations were hard to get rid of. Still, it was useful, both now and in the future when Wen Chao took the mantle of Sect Leader in Wen Ruohan’s stead.

He’d be terrible at it, of course, but Wen Qing hadn’t wanted the position, even if she agreed to be making most of the decisions behind the scenes; Wen Ning didn’t want anything to do with them at all, his only wish being to move to Yiling to be a mad scientist at the side of his idolized Wei Wuxian.

Meng Yao had been a tricky one to win over, since Nie Huaisang had no intention of letting him become Sect Leader Jin the way Wen Ruohan had implicitly promised him. But Nie Huaisang had found the key in one of his visits to the Cloud Recesses when he’d seen the way the man looked at Lan Xichen with stars in his eyes. After that it had been easy enough to convince Meng Yao that being Madame Lan would be just as prestigious as being Sect Leader Jin, and much more enjoyable besides.

“If you bring Wen Chao along, Wen Zhuliu will go as well,” Nie Mingjue reminded him. “And Lan Qiren has no warm feelings towards him.”

“Who does?” Nie Huaisang asked airily with a shrug.

He’d already promised Wen Zhuliu to the Jiang sect to do with as they pleased – Jiang Cheng and his vicious bitch of a mother both, the two of them seeking revenge for what he’d done to Jiang Fengmian and Wei Wuxian, the latter of which having been officially banished ever since his golden core was melted.

Really, it was all already set up. They would all meet at Hejian, long the Wen sect’s weak spot, and at the right moment Jin Guangshan would die (Meng Yao had volunteered with a grin), Jin Zixuan take his place, and then all four of the remaining Great Sects would rise in simultaneous rebellion against the Wens.

The only part left to be arranged was this.

He’d been desperately trying to figure out a way to deal with the Nightless City’s defenses before Wen Chao had told him the truth about his brother, and even afterwards he’d spent months trying to find another way.

There wasn’t one.

There was only this.

Nie Huaisang was really a bastard, wasn’t he?

He put his hands on his brother’s shoulders and met his eyes in the mirror.

“I really want to go, da-ge,” he said, his voice intentionally childish. “Won’t you help me?”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #wen ruohan #wen chao #mentions of others #my fic #my fics #darkfic #trans!NMJ #non-con #violence #bad things #spoils of war #Anonymous

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inventors-fair · 3 years ago

Text

Animal Planet - Full Commentary

Like I mentioned earlier, there were a lot of great entries this week. Full commentary below the cut. - @teaxch

@bread-into-toast - Indomitable Tardigrade

Tardigrades are famous for their ability to live through anything, and indestructible plus protection from everything covers almost every effect in the game that might remove a creature, with only non-targeted non-destruction removal getting through. I also like temporarily gaining indestructible on a tardigrade more than I like it on some other creatures that have gotten it as a replacement for regeneration (Drudge Sentinel, Icehide Troll), because Tardigrades really do become indestructible, rather than just putting themselves back together.

@deg99 - Anikole-Watusi

The flavor text is doing a lot of work on this card, helping justify an ability that otherwise would be a bit incongruous. With a reasonable statline at base rate, the card is less reliant on the second ability than the similar Stormwild Capridor, and it’s also threatening enough that preventing it from being bolted or fighted to death is valuable even if you have no ways to trigger it yourself.

@demimonde-semigoddess - Beetle Colony

The design of this card is interesting in that it is both a card that you don’t want to play in a deck with no forests, but also has incidental added value if your opponent is playing forests. (You could play the card in a deck with no forests, with the intent of only ever using the last ability, but that’s pretty far below rate, so I don’t think it makes the cut if you’re on that plan.)

The big boundary-push on the card is that it’s an aura that taps, and one that goes on a card type that people often tap pretty casually. Tapping enchantments appeared in Future Sight as a thing that Magic hadn’t done yet, but otherwise haven’t appeared. I’m not sure that this card crosses the threshold of what it would take to be worth breaking that rule on its own (as opposed to being an additional upkeep trigger or something), but it would be reasonable in a set that included other tapping enchantments.

@dimestoretajic - Bara, Friend to All

This is a strong tech piece; a fair number decks across a range of formats have few, if any ways to deal with a card like this mainboard. It’s fast enough that it’s not practical to go under it, it requires specific pieces of removal to handle, and even if it is handled eventually it can often put an aggressive deck effectively out of the game. (That said, most decks do have answers for something like this in the board, although not reliably great ones.) This might be safe in a product that skips standard, but it’s not totally clear whether this is something that would make it in a commander-focused product. (It’s not too powerful for Commander as a format, but it’s not something that all commander-product decks have many good ways to deal with.) I’m also not sure whether this could go in a product meant to be drafted. If this was introduced into certain non-rotating formats, it could certainly be an interesting role-player.

@fractured-infinity - Cunning Cuttlefish

There’s currently no shapeshifters in Magic that use this technology in quite as straightforward a way as this - Cryptoplasm might come the closest, with Dimir Doppelganger also playing in that space. This was one of a few Cuttlefish entries this week, and shapeshifting with controlled size is a pretty clever way to implement a Cuttlefish’s abilities. This card also allows for some shenanigans if you control an evasive creature and a creature with a saboteur effect. I wasn’t initially sure whether this should only last until the end of the turn, but precedent suggests that it’s fine for it to persist.

@ghoulcaclulator64 - Snake-Head Larva

Morph and saboteur abilities go together naturally, enough so that Headhunter, Silent Specter, and Haunted Cadaver all play in this space. For its morph cost, this card has a fairly brutal saboteur effect, and it’s appropriate to put it at rare for that reason. That said, as long as it only connects once, it’s pretty fair, and if the other morph cards in the set obey the KTK-forward soft rules about the size of creatures with cheap morph costs, then it can at least be blocked safely.

@gollumni - Zhalfiran Zebra

This card homages two existing cards, Master Decoy and Zhalfiran Decoy, rather than alluding directly to something that the animal is known for outside of Magic, which is a novel twist on the prompt. The card entering the battlefield tapped presumably references those two cards needing to tap to use their abilities. It reads a little oddly in a vacuum, as it’s not a drawback that appears often on white cards, but the connection to the second ability helps to to feel part of a piece. I do think that there’s room to push this card a bit - even at common, sorcery-speed tapping for one turn isn’t worth a huge amount.

@grornt - Nude Defenders

Surprisingly one of three cards this week that made use of the Skulk mechanic, Nude Defenders is a spin on Rat Colony that’s more insular and that has less power, but gains the aforementioned mechanic. I’m not sure whether Skulk plays well into the fantasy offered by the rest of the card of building up a large group of creatures that are themselves individually large, however. It still has some utility in that it can help get a last few points of damage in and generally prevent very large creatures from blocking (the Defenders in many circumstances will at least trade, rather than just getting eaten), but the two parts read as negative tension.

@helloijustreadyourpost - Clever Octopus

The second of the skulk entries this week. It’s clear what this card is doing - it steals small objects when it attacks (including things like food and treasure, which octopuses value) - but executing that ends up requiring a lot of text. I see the value in keeping your opponent from sacrificing whatever it is you target with the ability by preventing sacrifices of artifacts entirely, but most card just accept the fact that sacrificing a permanent is an answer to abilities that would steal it. I think that the extra text may be worth it here because the set of things that the octopus can steal includes a lot of things that can easily be sacrificed, but it’s on the line.

@hypexion - Abyssal Angler

I really like this design overall. “Creature that can force a creature to attack, but also must block the attacker” is a combination of abilities that I was a little surprised doesn’t already exist on a creature, given the very clear story it tells. I’ve gone back and forth on whether or not I like the subtle drawback of the ability being mandatory; if your opponent has only a 4/4, you must commit your Angler to blocking that creature if it’s untapped, which is a missable but relevant interaction. It does tell an interesting story of an Anglerfish in over its head, however.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes - Battle-Ready Emu

It’s hard to do a card with a single short line of rules text that’s both novel and a complete and understandable reference to a real-world phenomenon (or event, in this case), and I think this card pulls it off. In many environments, the Protection is largely trinket text, but as evergreen colored artifacts allow Wizards to print more and better equipment at lower rarities, it’s something that has a growing chance of mattering.

@jsands84 - Eclipse of Moths

Cards that allow your opponent to escape part of their effect by paying a certain color of mana aren’t common, but I like this more than Quenchable Fire for two reasons. First, the hybrid cost to buy out of the effect means that more, but not all, decks have the option to do so. Second, the repeatability of the effect means that the cost can legitimately add up over time. There are shades of the not-so-popular Rhystic mechanic, but I think in small volumes it’s fine, especially when tied to clear flavor, as this is.

@juggernaut-is-a-metalhead - Decaying Waverider

I wasn’t completely sure what to make of this card; the card mostly holds together, except for the art (although the dog is very cute), and doesn’t seem to be a top-down representation of the animal depicted, unless I’m missing something. Skulk and the ability to destroy cheap things on ETB is an interesting combination, as depending on your opponent’s curve, this might remove the only creature that can block it.

@loreholdlesbian - Coveted Rabbit

This is a strong design for a card that goes in a deck with spells that target your own creatures, specifically because it itself is a creature. The simplest execution of the mechanics of this card would be to just make the foot itself an equipment card, but this implementation allows you to up the creature count in an aura- or combat-trick-heavy deck by being a creature itself.

@misterstingyjack - Beaver Dam

The bulk of the power of this card is vested in its last ability. Being able to pitch lands for business is worth a lot in the late game, and the defensive nature of the card as a whole helps support a longer-game plan. The rest of the card tells a nice and flavorful story as well. +0/+1 counters aren’t a tool that’s used any longer, and I’m not sure if this card crosses the threshold for making it worth bringing them back; the card could use another counter type and scale with the number of those counters, if +0/+1 counters weren’t being used.

@nicolbolas96 - Protective Mother Boar

I’m not sure if there are any “mom will fight you if you hurt one of the other ones” cards that represent the mother creature itself rather than the baby, which is an interesting point of novelty. This card represents potentially quite a lot of face damage, but cleverly uses the Crested Sunmare trick of tying a powerful effect to a tribe that tends to be used for limited filler rather than for serious constructed shots. (Although the number of Constructed-interesting boars has gradually crept up over time.)

@nine-effing-hells - Aposematic Display

Menace and Deathtouch as a combination mean that blocking the creature is very costly, so there’s some synergy there - your opponent will generally treat the creature as unblockable. (Which is completely fair for the card’s cost - in blue, auras that make creatures unblockable can cost a single mana.) What I mostly want to talk about is the interaction between menace and the last ability. Because of the nonobvious way those abilities interact (if your opponent has only one creature that can block the enchanted creature, they don’t have to block it, but if they have two or more, then the targeted creature and another creature both have to block the enchanted creature), putting the two abilities on the same card is probably a complexity flag, but the card is uncommon. The specific combination has the interesting (but not necessarily desirable) effect of making Menace a drawback a significant fraction of the time, as the second ability is nullified entirely as long as your opponent doesn’t leave up two or more blockers.

@reaperfromtheabyss - Sandfish Skink

I didn’t think much of the ability at first, but the more I thought about it, the more impressed I was with its flexibility. It spoils a range of combat tricks, it lets the Skink block a large creature and then swap to a small one, and it allows the Skink to block things it wouldn’t normally be able to block. There’s a lot packed into a simple ability, which makes for an impressive design.

One small note - it should probably be limited to targeting attacking creatures that are attacking you or a creature you control. While I believe the game rules can handle the circumstance where you target one of your own attacking creatures, the Skink itself, or a creature attacking another player in a multiplayer game, it’s probably better to sidestep that entirely by limiting the legal targets.

@snugz - Bombardier Beetle

This is an interesting design, and another in the category of cards that seem like they should already exist. The big question with this card is: Is it green? Almost all similar effects (with a fixed amount of damage) are red, and in practical terms the ability functions a lot like Double Strike, but only against creatures. Not every card needs to be in the color that’s number one in something, but this ability feels borderline in Green, which doesn’t have a long history of creatures being able to one-sided fight nonfliers without external help. (That said, I guess the fact that it’s blocked or blocking is sort of like it’s fighting?)

@starch255 - The White Whale

This is a wrath attached to a large body, with a bit of a twist that players o-ring one creature each instead. Putting a card that some players will interpret as a Whale tribal card in a color with no Whales might disappoint some players slightly, but it’s a pretty on-flavor way to keep the card from affecting itself or other copies of itself. This is currently one of the easiest to cheat out/reanimate/blink wraths in the game - it’s pretty standard for creatures that wrath on ETB to only get that effect when cast from hand, or to require some additional investment or action.

@typical-davinci-impersonator - Leyline Cuttlefish

This is already a bear, so the card is basically serviceable in limited even if the ability doesn’t end up mattering, but I’m assuming that this exists in an environment where color matters. Depending on the way that color-matters is implemented, there’s an argument that this could maybe cost 1 instead, but given that 2/2 for 2 isn’t a statline that colorless gets much, the ability can be pretty marginal and this is still an interesting card. Being directly tied into what Cuttlefish can do in a very literal way limits the environments where it makes sense as a card, but makes it quite resonant if there were a reason to print it.

@walker-of-the-yellow-path - Blue Glaucus

I had to look this one up - for the benefit of anybody who’s in the same boat, this is a slug that preys on jellyfish-like creatures and actually stores their stinging cells in its own body for defense. It’s also immune to the stings of some such creatures.

The card has a lot going on, and a lot of it is novel, although most of the text directly references the abilities of the actual organism. The third ability is interesting in that it can be proactively built around, although Deathtouch creatures more often die on your opponent’s turn than on yours, making the mana potentially more difficult to use.

I’m not totally sure that the creature needs morph, but morph + deathtouch is a good combo, so it’s reasonably justified if the set it appears in already has morph.

@wolkemesser - Magical Hat

If I had done Honorable Mentions this week, this would definitely have made the cut. It’s super rare that such a clear and clever story can be told with just one relatively straightforward line of rules text. I respect the decision to leave off flavor text even though cards with three lines of rules text almost always have it; the card doesn’t need any help explaining what’s going on. I had a hard time gauging the rate on this card, but I think it’s within the band of fair.

#Inventor's Fair #if-animal planet #commentary #MtG #custom card

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kakakakashi · 4 years ago

Note

Oh my fucking NSFW alphabet and me not asking for Kakashi 👀

I knew he was gonna be first. I knew it. This one is LOOOOOOOOOONG, and idk if they’ll all be this long, but I couldn’t help myself.

*NSFW under the cut*

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It depends on what you did. Kakashi is a wild card when it comes to the bedroom. He likes a lot of different things, and he likes it rough most of the time. The aftercare varies accordingly, but he always makes sure that you’re good before he falls asleep. Please, do the same for him if you’re rough with him. The man will claim you don’t need to coddle him, but he’ll melt if you take care of him.

B - Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

…….. Do you even have to ask me this question? The man has called your ass proof of some god’s existence at some point or another. He’s a fan of your legs too, especially in combination with your ass, but like… It’s the booty that gets this man going every time.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves a good facial. I just… I don’t know what to tell you. Like… it is what it is. You can’t convince me that it’s his favorite place to cum. Second favorite is inside you, but that’s another story.

D - Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I don’t think Kakashi necessarily has a dirty secret that he’d never tell you. He definitely takes a while to open up about things, but like, once he’s open with you and you’re open with him, anything goes. I’ll expand on this later.

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Kakashi isn’t necessarily experienced regarding the number of partners he’s had. I know a lot of people think he’s a sex fiend, but I just can’t see it. I think with his mental state, his fear of vulnerability, and the self-loathing and overwhelming guilt he obviously deals with on a day to day basis, somewhere deep down in his subconscious, he doesn’t believe that he deserves to be loved in any way, shape, or formed. I feel like that’s part of why he reads Icha Icha too. Like, he wants that connection, but he believes he can never have it. That said, Icha Icha opened a lot of doors for him. I think that because of that, he does know what he’s doing. It’s how he discovered a lot of his kinks in my opinion. He’s had a few partners at certain points in his life, but not an obscene amount. However, he does know what he’s doing. The man’s done his research.

F - Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

I’m sorry. You expect him to pick one? It depends on a lot of things to him. I think he sees all the pros & cons of different positions in different situations and adjusts accordingly. I think he likes it best when you fuck him & have his legs over your shoulders, though. If he’s fucking you, though, he likes to take you from behind in front of a mirror.

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Again, I think it depends on what you’re doing. Mostly, he’s serious, but he knows how to crack a joke at the perfect moment to make everything all that much better. He’s 500% going to tease you, though. That’s another story. He’s a little shit, so he’ll joke around in that sense.

H - Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Okay, unpopular opinion here. I think Kakashi rocks a bush. I honestly do. If you wanted him to trim, he will, but I don’t think he’d go bare. This is mostly because he doesn’t have anyone to impress like ever, and nobody ever sees him naked like ever. Not to mention, he doesn’t necessarily have the time to keep up with grooming when he’s on missions and such, especially if he tried to go bare. Like, he doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with preventing ingrowns and taking care of the skin irritation. Therefore, I think he’s just to the point of “You know what? Fuck it.” The man doesn’t have time for that shit. He likes as minimal effort as possible. It’s actually really hot though, and it works for him somehow. The carpet does match the drapes as well. Down there is just slightly darker.

I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Again, I think it just depends on the surrounding circumstances. Sex as a whole is already a really intimate experience for Kakashi. Even if it’s rough and dominant, it’s still intimate for him. When it comes to romance, it depends on the vibe between you at the moment. If he’s just come back from a mission where he’s so tired, but he missed you so much, and the both of you just want to hold each other, he’s the most romantic. However, if he’s calling you names while your cherry red ass is up in the air, it’s not necessarily romantic. However, if you’re pegging him and calling him a good boy or something in the “not necessarily romantic” category, there’s still an element of romance to it because you know that you care about each other, and that’s why you’re in the situation you’re in. You know Kakashi trusts you to make him feel good, and he knows you trust him in the same way. It’s a more of an unspoken connection where you care about each other’s pleasure as opposed to an empty rose petals and candles kind of thing.

J - Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He loves it when you make him touch himself for you. He loves to make you touch yourself for him too. Also, I have a kind of specific hc about this, and it goes with what I wrote here. So, after you and Kakashi open up about what you do and don’t like, you set up boundaries & agree to certain things & all that fun stuff. Now, if you discuss it & consent to it, even as just an rp situation or something, I can 500% see Kakashi doing something along the lines of this. When he catches you touching yourself or even just changing or naked or something. He might start jerking off while you have no idea he’s there. I feel like watching you would make him so hard, and he’d just fuckin blow if he could get away with it without you noticing. Omg, and if you punish him for being a pervert after, god, the man’s in love.

Omg, and if you heard him come in or something, but just let him fuck his hand while you put on a show for him until he’s about to come before you tell him you knew he was there the whole time, he’s gonna spill as soon as the words leave your mouth. Like, it’s just so hot to him.

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I think it’s easier to list kinks he doesn’t have? Anyway, I’m just gonna do some of them. He likes pegging, dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, praise, voyeurism, exhibitionism, spanking (both heavy and light), edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms, bondage, sensory deprivation, hair pulling, and many more. Lol.

He also has some more questionable kinks including his thing for feet that’s not quite the usual fetish, but like, if you suggested giving him a foot job, he wouldn’t say no. Not to mention, if you’re being dominant, he’s kind of into you calling him a bad dog while he’s tied up on the floor and humping your leg. Whoops. Did I say that out loud?

L - Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Tbh, Kakashi loves the risk involved with potentially getting caught. Idk why, but I just have this gut feeling. Like, it really just gets his rocks off somehow. So, he’d probably like anywhere semipublic. Like, in a bathroom or against a tree while you’re away from the campsite on a mission. He’s not going to shove his hand down your pants when people are around, but he likes there to be a slight element of risk. I think he’d prefer people to hear what you’re doing as opposed to potentially seeing anything if that makes sense. Although, other than that, I do think he’s partial to the bedroom because you guys can entertain more of your kinks in the privacy of home. I mean, you can’t really peg him while you’re on a mission. Ya know.

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Tbh, I think it depends. If you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, he’s stubborn, and he won’t give in. For example, if you’re on an important mission that has a lot of risks. Kakashi isn’t going to neglect his responsibilities for a quickie. If anything, I think he’d be kind of upset that you wouldn’t value the delicate nature of the situation. I also think that if anybody else tried to get him going other than his partner, it would be like talking to a brick wall. He has no patience or energy to even act like he entertains it. If it’s you, and you’re, say, at home and just existing together, the slightest thing can set him off. Just a glimpse of skin or even just a memory of you. If you wear his clothes, smile at him, or even just say his name in a specific way, he’ll be in the mood.

N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don’t think Kakashi would ever use any form of ninjutsu on you. Like, I think he would be too terrified to hurt you, and it would trigger a lot in him.

In my opinion, it also takes Kakashi a loooooong time to get comfortable with you. You have to know him for years as friends before you get together. It takes a while for things to move forward. It takes a while for you guys to have sex. He definitely won’t break out all of his kinks at once. He really needs you to be patient until he’s ready to bring them up. If you try to push him too far too fast, I don’t think he’d be okay with that. However, if you’ve been with Kakashi long enough for him to really trust you 100%, I don’t think anything is really off limits.

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think we all know Kakashi’s good with his mouth. The man’s read enough smut to have countless tricks up his sleeve, and he undoubtedly pulls out all the stops to make you squirm. He’s going to find all your sensitive spots, and he’s going to abuse them until you’re so wound up you could scream. Then, he’s going to pull back just enough that you can’t get where you want and start the process over again.

However, while he loves giving, he fucking loves a good blow job. The man will be putty in your hands if you put your mouth on him. And if you let him fuck your face? Well, he’s definitely not lasting long. He loves making a mess of your face when he shoves his cock down your throat. It’s one of his favorite sights in the world.

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can go either way depending on the mood, and I also think that he uses a combination of the two in order to drag out the pleasure as long as possible with you. He’ll start out so slow, but as things heat up, he’ll pick up the pace… only to slow down again and make you want to cry. He enjoys the same treatment very much as well.

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

You’re kidding, right? I don’t think Kakashi could ever say “no” to a quickie. The man loves them, especially if you might get caught.

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

The man will try anything once. He’s so game.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Okay, so I think Kakashi usually only goes for one or two rounds, but he lasts for a time that’s above average. Not to mention, it also depends on what you consider a “round” because he does tend to prefer to give you more orgasms than him. He just feels that it’s what he should do. He’s really a considerate partner in my opinion, and he will keep going somehow until you’re both satisfied, even if he has to take a quick break in between.

T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

The man has oodles of delicious toys. He loves using them on himself and on you. He also loves when you use them on yourself and on him. Toys are something he regularly enjoys using in the bedroom with you. He thinks they just bring everything to a whole new level, and they provide lots of fun and entertainment.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You pull out a dictionary and look up the word tease? You’re gonna find a picture of Kakashi Hatake. The man’s merciless, and it makes him so fucking smug.

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

It depends on where you are and what you’re doing. He can be loud when it’s really good, but he only lets those noises out in the comfort of home. He knows how to control himself and muffle the sounds he can’t contain. However, sometimes, he can be quiet as a mouse, all labored breaths and grunts into your ear. Either way, it’s a sound that shakes you to your core.

W - Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Kakashi in lacy little panties… just… *chef’s kiss*

Also, I hc that Kakashi gets really pink & flushed while having sex. Like, it would be super cute if he wasn’t making you see stars tbh.

X - X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I’m going to leave this art by @dianaii here. It’s exactly how I’ve always pictured that dumb dork. Also this art by @rrrotten because it’s a close second.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I think Kakashi’s got a weird combo here because he’s very athletic, so I think it would be above average. However, the man is depressed af, and his mental state is just a cocktail of mental issues, so I’d think it was below average. However, he reads Icha Icha all the time, so I think that would have an impact. The only thing is that Kakashi has literally said that his favorite part of the book is the plot, so what is the truth? Overall, I think he’s a really flexible partner who can really match whatever you bring to the table.

Z - ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

See aftercare. As soon as he’s sure you’re good, he’s gonna be napping. He’ll at least close his eyes and relax if his brain doesn’t quiet down enough for him to sleep, though.

#cherry's 300 follower celebration #naruto imagines #kakashi x reader #cherry has ideas sometimes #hi. i’m cherry queen of the sin bin.#Anonymous #cherry posts about ninja nerds #100

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oristromboli · 4 years ago

Text

If You Be Our Star, We’ll Be Your Sky | 1

Chapter 1: Haunted Memories

In which you grapple with past events bleeding into the present.

(Smut this chapter: none)

“The arrogation of mankind ends here.”

Things became a blur after that – your wings burst forth and you saw the twins take off in opposite directions as you split down the middle. Like some dance, the three of you wove between oscillating pillars of dark shapes folding in on themselves before all converged in on the imposing woman. She was no different from any other gate, any other obstacle you needed to cross between worlds; while you were often the one to suggest the quiet and efficient route, the twins charged forward with one clear goal in mind. Two-against-one were bad odds, especially when it was you between a rock and a hard-place – or, more accurately, squeezed between one twin and the other. You pitied the god as she braced for their combined onslaught, clearly unaware of what hell would rain down-

Except. Except, suddenly, you witnessed the twins suspended in mid-air, caught and strung up for their audacity.

You didn’t think, you couldn’t think, you dove for the first twin you saw and yanked them away from that void that crept from her fingers.

Lumine looked up, shocked and horrified all at once, and indescribable shame turned to ice in your blood. While you held on to Aether, you both witnessed Lumine become swallowed in that blackness, that.. nothingness, and you could only let go of Aether as he shot forward to flank the god.

His sword was drawn and in a flash of light did it seem to make contact. You quickly joined his side with hopes to see Lumine amidst the chaos. Everything would be okay again, you three could go back to adventuring, she would forgive the split-second decision, you told yourself. That is, until you saw the god tall and proud with barely a scoff as she looked at you two without even the decency of contempt. In that moment, you suddenly understood the impulsive twins’ tempers. You both dove towards the god, weapons drawn and red in your eyes.

Wait. Wait, no, that’s not right. The red was neither your anger nor panic, but the god’s powers enclosed on you both.

“Wait! Stop! Give my sister back!” Aether cried, and you closed your eyes, wishing to all the stars above that this was all a dream and you could stop suffocating –

---

“Paimon! Paimon, get off of her,” Aether said, laughing as he lifts the fairy off of your chest and what the fuck Paimon.

“Aw, Paimon just wanted to help! She wasn’t waking up, so Paimon thought that shaking her would help,” she said, pouting as you felt her tiny paws release your shirt to only hang limply as she was carried like a sack of potatoes away from you. Emergency rations indeed.

“Okay, we need to have a serious talk about you and personal boundaries,” you mutter while you sit up, massaging feeling back into your collarbone. “If you don’t want to be designated as mascot number two behind our lil’ buddy, I suggest you start losing some weight before sitting on me.” You jerk your thumb towards Aether’s belt where a small glass ball hung and a golden Seelie flickered rhythmically. Is it snoring?

“Hey! Paimon is not mascot number two! And Aether’s cooking is too good…” she mumbles, flipping between indignant to having the gall to look somewhat guilty as she breaks free from his grasp. That didn’t last long, though, as Aether snickers with an incriminating finger poking the fairy.

“So, you admit to being our mascot?”

You very quickly tune their bickering out and set out about collecting your own bedroll before moving on to Aether’s. Most of your powers were sealed except for the few convenient ones, such as access to a subspace for storage and the ability to travel quickly within Teyvat, but otherwise, everything else was left for discovery. In that way, organizing your campsite became quick and easy work on the days that you weren’t woken by Hilichurls looking to turn your bedrolls into breakfast burritos.

Actually, scratch that. Hilichurls are better than Paimon ‘accidentally’ strangling you.

Aether’s laugh rings clear around you as he stretches his lithe body, already limber and prepared for the day. He never seemed to care much about comfortable beds – or, well, any basic comforts – but Paimon is right, he makes damn good meals. In your many months on Teyvat looking for Lumine, you both fell into a steady rhythm where he cooked and acted as a de facto leader while you archived everything you came across. Between the three – no, the two of you - you were often the one taking notes and painting the landscape around you in an effort to remember these adventures while Aether acted as the beacon of hope for the locals.

Even if Aether fills Lumine’s role easily, you can tell it was never comfortable.

You pause at that thought, glancing over to Aether who was making very exaggerated gestures to what you can only assume are his steps for Paimon à la carte. The ball holding your new friend bounces around with his movements, but the Seelie inside seemed unperturbed, if you were being honest. He never parted with the creature, and you were sure it was equally possessive of its new master.

In his own way, you think Aether tries to be subtle about it: between the Seelie’s ethereal golden glow and its headstrong personality, you can’t help but notice how he cradles the ball with a forlorn expression some nights. It was only polite to roll over in your pretend-sleep and very pointedly not comment. When he wasn’t wrapped around the ball, you laid next to him and held him as tightly in silent understanding, often falling asleep tangled like that.

The tear stains are always ignored the morning after.

You swallow around a sudden lump and turn around, fumbling for your own journal to see the next tasks for the day. Despite your own emotions, you know that Aether doesn’t blame you, he told you himself many times and says that there was only one of you. Still, you can’t help but wonder if - while he doesn’t blame you per se - he wishes it was Lumine you chose and not him. Ever the self-sacrificing big brother.

A red thread lies hidden in the page you left off, acting as a sort of make-shift bookmark. Wrapped in knots and with a sort of tender care for the regal dragon with amber eyes near the bottom is a single Starconch, dangling around with each gentle breeze. If anybody asks you, you would deny it vehemently, but you swore you could hear laughter from that conch sometimes from another big brother. Twirling the sapphire item, you can’t help the bittersweet smile that breaks out on your face against the stupid memory.

---

You decided to stray from Liyue that day, most of your daily commissions done with Aether treating Paimon to dinner afterward. Like two parents, you switched days on who gets the honors of taking the overgrown child while the other relishes in time for themselves. It was natural; though you were used to traveling as a pack, sometimes you just… needed to get away.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one with that idea as you soon spied a figure lounging in the sandy beaches close to the city. When you were close enough to see the scarf billowing in the breeze, you stopped and immediately held your breath. Shit, shit, shit, did he know you were here? Maybe if you just quietly turned around, you could get away and leave the Eleventh Harbinger alone. Not that you were strangers to each other. Far from, actually, as you grew friendly with each other over the many weeks - or has it been months? Time flows differently in this world – spent together in Liyue.

“Hey, girlie,” he calls without looking your way and you freeze. Whelp, there goes that plan.

“H-hey,” you stutter, only to stop and tap your throat lightly before trying again. “Hey, Childe. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He snickers and turns then with a wide smile, yet it wasn’t as feral as you expected. If anything, he seems distant. “No, you’re fine. Looking for some peace and quiet from that stir-fry?”

“Oh, how did you know,” you say with a small smirk as you walk closer. Childe looks up at you and pats the sand next to him. No harm in that, sure, you could sit down. He was better company than Paimon at the moment, anyway. At that thought you grimace briefly, when the hell did you want to spend more time with a Fatui Harbinger? Still, you join him in watching the waters dance across the sand.

Okay, yeah, you can admit the view is gorgeous. Liyue never fails you in that regard with its mountains and crystal clear waters. The trees are always an explosion of color while the geography varies dramatically from one corner to another. You're certain Childe thought the same despite his incessant complaints about the heat.

Which, speaking of, he was unusually quiet and focused. When you glance at him, you only notice then he was thumbing a small, blue shell with a star on it. He catches your eye and holds up the conch. “Mm? This? You know, there’s an old legend in Liyue that says that if you hold the conch up to your ear, you can hear what your heart longs for,” he says as he flicks the conch to your hands. “For most, that’s the sea, of course. All the boats, all the business opportunities. Maybe you’ll hear the gremlin’s whining?”

You punch his shoulder lightly while he laughs, all the while eyeing you carefully. Maybe this was your cue to listen? However, when you hold the conch up, you didn’t hear the sea at all. Almost… suffocatingly empty, like… Your eyes widen, imperceptible to all except for damnably sharp Harbinger who you felt nudging against your foot from his own. “So? What’d you hear?”

“I hear… the ocean. The one between worlds,” you lie before you held it back out to him.

Childe guessed yours and Aether’s otherworldly - or rather, "not human" as he put it - status early on. You weren’t surprised coming from someone who carefully pointed out the use of elemental powers without visions, so you never bothered to obfuscate your stories from other realms too deeply. How Zhongli suspected, however, was beyond you at the time. The funeral consultant dismissed Aether’s questions with a lazy wave and this is no more strange than adepti in teapots.

Your companion shakes his head and wraps his gloves around yours, closing the conch into your fist.

“The ocean between worlds, huh?” Childe looks up then, something… something dark and inaccessible in his eyes again. You purse your lips and lower your eyes. “You know, I hear whales. The ones in the ocean here… They call out and follow each other,” he finishes, the pause in his sentence enough to be nearly visceral. He turns to you, eyes wicked and teeth bared in a wide smile. “Maybe they’re looking for a good kill?”

You snort. It became quite easy for you to dismiss these little moments of vulnerability, to close your eyes and forget. Ironic, considering you spent your waking days desperately trying to remember. “Maybe. Maybe there are some up there, looking for their next adventure. They’re… never alone, you know,” you murmur and ignore the curious look Childe gave you, “they have constellations all around them. To guide them home.”

“Sure,” he scoffs and stands. All of a sudden, that vulnerability was stamped underfoot like a stray pest. Did you say something wrong? Regardless, it’s unavoidable that some of the sand flies in your face from Childe’s movement, but you take the opportunity to swat him in fake annoyance nonetheless. Score one for you, zero for Fatui. Childe chuckles and offers his hand, which you take gratefully and will not comment on his tight grip while he dusted your back off, nope. You will not.

It wasn’t a long walk back to Liyue and the two of you fell into an easy banter. Well, easy for Childe since he ruthlessly pinpointed your pet peeves for exploitation, but you enjoy him nonetheless. This felt natural, dancing between the lines of friend and enemy.

Along the docks, the two of you run into Zhongli examining tapestries from a stand.

“Ah! Zhongli! What a surprise finding you here!... ” No it isn’t.

“... Just browsing, I see. What are you planning on buying?...” You mean what you are going to buy, Childe.

“... Is there anything we can help with?” Help the walking encyclopedia of Liyue? The entire time your face twists more in your incredulity at the implication of Zhongli requiring anything other than Mora. Still, you nod along, if only to hear Zhongli speak at length about the history associated. You are, after all, a curator of all things practical in knowledge.

The fact that his warm voice sends shivers to your core was just a bonus, honest.

Zhongli’s eyes shimmer as he looks at the two of you, crinkling faintly along the edges. “Indeed, I would greatly appreciate assistance in deciding which pattern to buy.” He turns back to the stand with a hand resting on his chin, and you flank Zhongli’s right while Childe goes to his left. “This design over here depicts Glaze Lilies in bloom, a wondrous sight most rare these days in Liyue. A moment preserved for all to appreciate. Over here, we see the clouds descending upon the mountains of Liyue…”

So you told yourself you were going to listen to Zhongli, but you suddenly can’t help staring at a long, crimson token. The strings appear to be woven in complicated patterns, but when you look closer, you realize that the patterns are dragon scales that meet on a wild head with Cor Lapis eyes. How curious. Once upon a time, you were sure a design like this would have adorned the walls of kings of yore, yet now it only serves as a cheap souvenir.

The single thought of pretty propels you grab it.

Of course, this does not go unnoticed by Zhongli and Childe. You felt the silence rather than heard it; in that moment, you look to their inquisitive gazes, eyes wide and face as flushed as the dragon. “I… I. I saw this and. It’s… Pretty. Pretty nice,” you lamely explain, suddenly at a loss for words when the full force of their combined gaze is set upon you. Stars and gods above, that was pathetic. Tourist trap sprung.

Childe’s smile grows indulgent and Zhongli’s tight-lipped expression never moves while his shoulders barely trembled. They… thought this was cute. Great. You purse your lips and turn away, mumbling obscenities under your breath. Still, a traitorous grin comes as you felt Childe’s hand settle on your shoulder as he not-so-subtly breaches your personal space after side-stepping the funeral consultant.

“A pretty token for a pretty girl, no?” he coos and leans forward to inspect the trinket in your hand.

“Childe possesses an expensive eye,” Zhongli agrees and his voice floods your other ear as the older man follows Childe’s lead. His rich timbre petrifies you, and you could only stand there with a white-knuckle grip while you listen to their appraisal. “In Liyue, an invisible red string is said to entwine the fate of all those caught in its distinct pattern, destined to meet regardless of time or circumstance. Never will it break, safeguarded by the divine itself. Even the tangled pandemonium it may cause would lead only to a grander, more intricate pattern at journey’s end. Perhaps this will lead you to your destination?”

“Zhongli, as much as I appreciate Liyue’s customs and stories, isn’t this a little too on the nose? Saccharine to the very end indeed,” Child snickers. Still, when he notices your crestfallen expression at his bickering, he gazes at Zhongli again before you hear your name called softly. “Hey. Let’s make a deal, yes?”

“What? No, no, no I am not making a deal with a Fauti Harbinger,” you immediately hiss and whip around. Damn the fallen Geo Archon, you will not be beholden to the whims to a Harbinger in the land that once belonged to the God of Contracts. In a desperate bid for allies, you beg your other friend, who was suddenly and conveniently interested in another token on the stand. Damn him too, you decide.

“Come on, pretty bird,” Childe says and pokes your side.

“I think I liked it better when you called me pretty girl.”

“Ah, no no, pretty bird because you always cry when the cats come over to play.”

“I do not, fuck you very much. And did you just call yourself a cat -?”

“I promise, this is a deal you’ll like. Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. I’ll buy it anyway.” Childe waves his hand to the vendor to barter. Before long, he returns triumphant with the long thread in hand and gently lays it in your own in the same manner he did with the Starconch shell. “Y’ready to hear my deal?”

“No.”

“In return for me generously buying you this,” he continues, ignoring your very pointed is this how he treats you, Zhongli and the amused no, simply you in response, “I want your end of the deal to be carrying this with you, in that little journal you think we don’t see you scribbling in.”

Your face immediately flushes with indignation. “Like a bookmark? Why?”

“Because,” Childe says while he carefully wraps the end closest to the dragon’s head around the shell. By the time he’s finished, the dragon looks to be gripping the glimmering item and protective amber eyes gaze upwards to the heavens, ignorant to Zhongli’s intense scrutiny. “Because, sweet thing, I think Zhongli’s right. The Hero of Mondstadt, a Fatui Harbinger, and a funeral consultant all walk into a bar – “

“That is not how I remember our first meeting, Childe.”

“ – and forgive our dear comrade’s ignorance of Snezhnayan jokes. Point being, I don’t want you to forget this,” he says, winking when you blink owlishly. It’s hard to remember that you’re supposed to hate this man and hate his sentimentality.

“This… this is your attempt to piss me off, isn’t it? Make me never forget I’m friends with a Harbinger? Put a mark on my back that says ‘I.O.U.’?”

“Aw, now why would I do that? You wound me!” Childe pretends to be hurt before elbowing you with all the mischief you would see Aether give you before charging a Hilichurl camp. “Besides, you said it yourself, friend. I just want to be remembered. That’s the only debt you owe.”

As much as you wanted to hit Childe then, you both turn when you hear Zhongli’s rumbling chuckle. You lean forward against Zhongli opting to hit him instead and relish in his little grunt to your effort, clearly only putting on a show for humor’s sake. “Wow. Is this a gift from you too, Zhongli?”

“Hey! I paid for it!”

“Thank you,” you say fondly. “Except… Except I have nothing in return. Zhongli told me about how he gave you chopsticks, and you two gave me this – never mind how you even pay for Zhongli’s entire life. How can I…” You look down then, somber of the fact you are in the land of contracts.

(All must be fair in love and war.)

“How can I make this fair?” you settle, gazing up suddenly. Childe only laughs, characteristic of his lackadaisical attitude and oh stars you know this is going to bite you in the ass. You feel Zhongli’s hand rest on your hip and when you turn to him, he’s -

Oh gods he’s so close -

“Your company is enough, dear bird. Now come. I am in need of eyes tempered by travels outside of Liyue. It is refreshing to see these items anew.” He pivots on his heel and walks further along the docks without turning behind to check whether you and Childe would follow. You both do, of course, but not without half-hearted grumbles at his presumptuousness.

It became easier then, the bickering between you and Childe with Zhongli only stepping in when he cared enough to distract your verbal blows for opinions on his next purchase. That, of course, only led to the two of you turning on the refined gentlemen, determined to crack that stony exterior as punishment for his ridiculous disregard for money. How immature, how… childish. Damn it.

You hear your name being called. “Hey, hey, are you listening? Hey-“

---

“Heyyy!” Paimon says, floating in front of your face while Aether snaps his fingers. Blinking awake, you snap to attention. Aether had gathered the rest of your supplies, and the three of you were ready to continue on your travels by foot to gather ingredients on approach to Dragonspine. “Hey! Paimon asked if you were ready to go?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah I am. Sorry, was just trying to remember our, ah… next commissions,” you mumble before putting the journal away. Paimon gazes at you sympathetically then. With a sharp turn on your heel, you began walking towards the mountain with a renewed bounce in your step and lame determination to ignore Paimon’s pity. “C’mon! Better to get there sooner rather than later, yeah?”

Aether jogs to catch up and flicks his eyes between you and Paimon in some grand conspiracy. “Think if Paimon eats the last of our goulash again, we can use her as a hot blanket?” You both laugh, whipping around then to stare at the aforementioned fairy who only gulps.

“Paimon, ahh, Paimon is going to go scout ahead! Can never be too careful!” she chirps before floating ahead at a speed you only ever saw her gain when she spies a fresh meal. You were thankful, though. It’s no secret how you hurt these past few months since Childe’s departure to Schnezaya after his release of Osial. In many ways, that disaster became old news with the citizens of Liyue eager to remember the event only as of the fond ascension of the Liyue Qixing’s power rather than the near-death blow from the Vortex God. The peaceful Rite of Descension held after solidified the transition into the age of men. Though rumors were abound of Childe’s – no, Tartaglia’s – involvement, they were quickly muddled with the Fatui emphasizing new business opportunities in an attempt to let it all be “water under the bridge.”

Rather, they attempted to save face while Ningguang squeezed them under her golden thumb as retribution. Ultimately though, nobody truly witnessed Childe himself summoning the god of old.

That doesn’t make his actions any better after knowing. If anything, you find it almost easier to forgive – bitter in your private admission – since he acted only within his nature, no more and no less. Understanding was swift after you and Aether were somehow roped into helping him wrangle Teucer, a spitting image of the stubborn Childe you knew and not bloodthirsty Tartaglia, before his return to Schnezaya. You couldn’t find it in yourself to truly hate him after the Fatui’s blatant trust in you two to keep his secret, even as you jot down a new quest afterward: ‘Strangle Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, at your next meeting.’

Before his departure from the Northland Bank, you even had the courtesy to warn him under your breath when you hugged him farewell. He naturally returned the sentiment and squeezed harder in emphasis.

Yep. Reasonable. Single-minded friends to the end.

No, you hate the Fatui more. Whether Tartaglia ever forgives his conniving comrades – and the Tsarista - is something for the stars to witness. You know how deeply he respected the Tsarista for her frigid yet imperial attitude, something borne from the experience of a true warrior who courted death head on, whose pale complexion was forever marred by the scarlet slaughter. The only time you saw light in his eyes was when he waxed poetry of her carnage, much to Paimon’s disgust.

His contempt for deceit often warred with his pragmatic attitude of “the ends justify the means.” Despite his misgivings, he acted within his orders perfectly. He even expressed his distaste for unnecessary power demonstrations, a complete contrast to your false assumption and Signora’s patronizations over his desire for chaos. The reward? Being used and tossed aside. With Tartaglia designated as a pawn in the Cryo Archon’s grand game instead of granted the bare decency for communication between commander and general, you couldn’t help but wonder where his opinions of her now lie. Even as he cursed Zhongli and Signora for leading him on, you heard humor lacing his words. You were sure that Tartaglia always suspected Zhongli to be more than a consultant, but the Tsaritsa’s blatant disregard for the Harbinger’s intelligence was offensive, even to you.

In the end, what Tartaglia really thinks of her now doesn’t matter. It never did.

No, you were – are, you desperately try to remind yourself – more disappointed with Zhongli, with Rex Lapis, the God of Contracts, the God of War, with fucking Morax. When you first came to Liyue with the intention of hunting down the Geo Archon, both you and Aether marveled at the Geo powers bestowed upon you from the first statue encountered out of Mondstadt. Surely, Aether pondered then, this meant that the Geo Archon approved of your Holy Grail quest. Instead, many months later and after some rather painful revelations, you both discovered that Zhongli – gentle, kind, and dear Zhongli – was none other than the stone-cold god instead. Aether tried convincing you for weeks that this was Zhongli’s nature, that as a god who walked Liyue for over six thousand years, he likely saw these as tactical maneuvers similar to the Archon War.

Aether, bless him, understood Zhongli’s reasoning deeply; after all, you two were likely thousands of years old yourselves despite stopping the count many centuries ago. You logically understand the desire for peace, but you can’t help the emotional betrayal.

Thankfully, Aether keeps most of his comments to himself. He knows you well enough to know why you were really upset, why your heart twists at the memories you spent with the former Archon, but he is wise enough to know when to pick his battles.

You still remember your bitter conversations with Zhongli afterwards, your rampage in seeking him out at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor for answers. Except, what answers could he give you that he didn’t already offer at the Golden House? Still, that didn’t stop you as you barreled forward, didn’t stop you from pounding against his stone-cold chest and meeting his irritatingly serene gaze as you demanded he sat down for what pitiful interrogation you could dish out on the God of War. Since that confrontation, you spent much of your time in Liyue attempting to harass – or reconcile? – with Zhongli.

As you approach the mountain’s base, you feel Aether’s hand on your shoulder and his soft voice, “She didn’t mean it you know. She’s worried about you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll bet you, I don’t think she’s forgiven him either. Paimon knows you’re trying, you’ve spent more time with Zhongli to repair things, but as much as she loves the fact that you’ve gotten him to pay for all our meals now, I'm pretty sure she’s still mad at him.”

You laugh then, and Aether perks up at your shift. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, matching his steps with yours as you snicker along. “Stars help the Lord of Geo, because he hasn’t face the fury of a hungry Paimon.”

---

“Promise me.”

“I understand.”

“No, Morax, you don’t. I need you to promise me.” You scowl hard, hands slamming on the desk as you stare deep into his amber eyes. He only passively stares back, but you knew him better than that. Those months of connection, of deeper understanding – even if you didn’t truly understand then it was because of two immortals who subconsciously recognized eternity in the other – gave you some advantages, such as recognizing that flicker of guilt across his eyes before disappearing. You don’t relent in your assault as you both ignore Aether and Paimon in the background tensely watching. “You owe us. That explanation at the Golden House and Rite of Parting was crap.”

"But Mr. Zhongli told us everything - "

"He gave us half the story, Paimon," you growl. "Isn't that right? How deep in with the Fatui were you? What did you tolerate?"

The air grows thick as memories of each Fatui camp obliterated run through your mind. You barely managed to stomach reading even half of the detailed accounts on the experiments conducted within Liyue. His eyes flick to the bags around your eyes, then towards the journal hanging by your side.

Zhongli’s fingers rap his table as his nostrils flare. Good. You got him on edge. Still, before you can say more, he relents and you try not to be disappointed. He knows when he is faced with an immovable mountain. With no more protest, Zhongli rummages for spare paper and ink before pulling both out and writes up a quick contract with a few lines of promises for total honesty. The pen narrowly avoids tearing the paper with the pressure. As he hands the paper to you, he never meets your eyes as he says, “It is important to me that you know I was authentic with you after Osial’s defeat. I hope this reassures and appeases your curiosity. If a physical symbol is required for what I have always given you, starlight, then so be it.”

Each word of his grows softer, yet only digs deeper daggers into your heart. Starlight. His own nickname for you to mirror Tartaglia’s pretty bird, yet you didn’t know why or how it came to be. Regardless, you take the contract and inspect his signature. Grabbing the pen from his hand – and with barely a flinch at his fingers lingering near yours – you sign your own name. “… Not always, clearly. It’s done,” you murmur and bring the contact with you to the fire behind him. All other parties in the room watch as you shuffle closer to the fire, ears straining for your next words that are nearly drowned in the incessant crackling. “You’re a lot like him, you know. Childe.”

Zhongli stiffens. “You have said so before.”

“You both see the world around you as means to an end, some limit to be pushed or some assessment to be passed. Is he… is he as bloodthirsty as you were, too? Back then?” He draws a sharp breath, though you don’t look behind you to see what expression he wears.

“… Yes. He is. I had expressed such sentiments to him before his departure. Childe only laughed, and… He told me that he knew there was a reason he liked me.” It takes all your willpower to not grip the contract any harder than you did, so you were proud of yourself, damn it. Still, you nod before tossing the contract into the fire.

Zhongli swiftly rises at that, and as you turn around, you watch his fierce eyes on you debate either questioning you or hurling a stone pillar towards you on pure instinct. Some habits die hard, it seems.

You only laugh, shoulders relaxing for the first time since Osial rose from the sea. “Zhongli.” He freezes, as if it were possible to become even tenser than he already is, and mouth parts lightly as you whisper his mortal name so sweetly. “All I needed to know was your willingness. I don’t care about contracts, I never even asked for it. Let’s not do that. It’s been six thousand years already, hasn’t it?”

He swallows thickly. “Yes. It has been.” Zhongli sits down and sweeps an arm out, gesturing for you three to take seats in front of his desk. Although you were the one to initiate the conversation, Aether and Paimon ask most of the questions while you keep your eyes glued to the desk in front of you. That didn’t stop you from feeling Zhongli’s eyes on you though, ever curious as to what was behind your own neutral complexion.

He taught you too well to hide your emotions; the thought alone is enough to crack the god of stone’s heart.

Unfortunately for the three of you, Zhongli can offer no explanation for their activities within Liyue. Although he was aware of some of their sickening actions, he was forced to turn a blind eye as he focused on the grander picture. Mortals needed to learn to handle affairs amongst themselves while he doubled his efforts in safeguarding what was personally important to him as he prepared to step down.

As you three were leaving his office – and after Paimon manages to convince Zhongli to pay for all her meals as recompense – you linger when you hear the former Archon call your name. When you turn back to see him, his own eyes aren’t meeting yours, but are instead taking the ring from around his thumb to place on the desk. What is the old idiot doing?

“I am not worthy of this gift,” he begins, closing his eyes as he shifts the ring forward. Copper floods your mouth from how tightly you bite your tongue then to keep from practically weeping at witnessing Zhongli attempt to give back the ring you gifted so many months ago. “You gave this to Childe and I as equal payment for our own gifts, yet you did this as promise to remain as true friends. I will not apologize for my actions, as I did what I believe to be right for Liyue as its Geo Archon.” His eyes open, resolute and vibrant. True to his word, there is no remorse for his manipulations. “As a mortal, however… I do not believe I have adequately upheld my end of the bargain. ”

Underneath his gloves, his knuckles go white from how tightly he clenches his fists in his lap.

“Zhongli…” You step forward to grab the ring before gently taking one of his hands. After unfurling his fist, you gingerly place the ring back in his palm. The ring you gave Zhongli is of a golden dragon wrapped around, biting its own tail. A symbol of eternity. For Tartaglia – Childe, you correct yourself, he was Childe then – you gave him a ring of silver and sea glass so brilliant, it acted as a mirror that could rival the ocean’s reflections. “Do you remember how Childe whined that my gift was impractical, compared to the utensils and bookmark?”

“Yes,” Zhongli says, smiling at the memory. “He complained that it would hinder battle as he gripped his bow.”

“Right. I said that it was so he would never forget how annoying I can be when I wanted to,” you giggle. “I gave this to you after you told me of how… of how all your friends forever shined like gold in your memories. I wanted to be like that too.” Before he could respond to your crack, you continue, purposefully cutting his thoughts off. “I know you promised to write Childe. He told me he made peace with you after bribery with some osmanthus wine. Something about learning how to be mortal, getting a chance to fight you, all that. He also told me he was ordered to keep you close as an asset, even if he didn’t understand why at the beginning. The Tsaritsa wants to keep tabs on your ‘progress’ and movements, I’m sure. For all of Tartaglia’s Fatuiness, he’s not very secretive about that sort of stuff. Guess he was glad to be done with those lies.”

Zhongli doesn’t respond and watches your face as you speak, so you took this as a cue to continue your speech as you withdrew your hands. You meet his gaze then. “I want you to let him know that I won’t try to make contact with him. I made my peace with him while Teucer was here, I harbor no bad blood. We were both pawns.” You ignore how Zhongli’s throat bobbed. “But I can’t keep contact with him. Not now, at least, not with where our mission is heading.”

After a long moment, the Geo Archon closes his eyes, before reopening to the imperial gaze the statues of him around the country forever etched. You both knew this was little more than a game, though. Nothing could make you bend the knee to any god before, why would you now? “Will you still visit me in Liyue?” he asks. For all of his age, you marvel at how lost he sounds.

A god who never learned how to be vulnerable, to be human.

“Yes, I promise, because you’re my friend.”

---

After that, the weeks crawled by, but you kept your promise. Ningguang saw fit to reward you, Aether, and Paimon with a reserved room in the finest inn at Feiyun Slope for whenever you passed through, as befitting of the Heroes of Monstadt and Liyue. Though the three of you collapsed on the floor in the apartment and wept honest-to-gods tears of joy of not having to open your wallet for once, you saw this as a cosmological suggestion for you to begin your journey of forgiving Zhongli.

Which, no, that was a lie actually. You knew deep down you already forgave Zhongli, that wasn’t the issue.

Long after Paimon retreated to her own bed tucked amongst an ungodly amount of pillows and blankets set in one of the larger windows, Aether sat you down in another windowsill to ask you honestly about your feelings on Zhongli and Childe. Thank the stars you knew Aether for centuries because he opened his arms instinctually as you sniffled and crawled over, burying your head into his chest as tears flowed openly for the first time since you both lost Lumine. After apologies and please let me wash your scarf I’m sorry I made it gross and no don’t you dare I ruin your shirts all the time, you began to confess how, for the first time, you felt dually matched tit-for-tat in these two men.

Tartaglia reminds you of the joys of adventures, of youth, of the difference between surviving and being alive while Zhongli gives you the stability that a mountain eternal would. He beckoned you through the history of Liyue with a warm smile, shared in your long conversations with Aether on the nature of life well into the night against the dawn, and stood steadfast as warden against your own anxieties of eternity despite not knowing then of his own timeless status.

Could it be helped that you fell as quickly as a star, set aflame with hopes of something more?

Yet, once again, luck proved to not be on your side. You remember in the days leading up to the battle with Osial at discovering how Zhongli and Childe would share long conversations or made time for meals regardless of busy schedules. Though you confessed to Aether that you recognize it was because both wanted to keep tabs on the other without revealing their ulterior motives, it didn’t fail to ignite anxiety, especially now that you knew Zhongli maintained correspondence with Childe, despite the former’s insistence that it was strictly friendly and contractual.

Stars, could you have felt any more like a selfish kid then? To want both men left you feeling equal parts angry with yourself and with them. How dare you allow yourself to get close to them? You should have left the socializing to Aether, fuck.

Combined with the fact that both men betrayed everyone involved and were shy of brawling each other in the Golden House, you couldn't help but feel that most - if not all - of the memories made were false. Bloodthirsty, warmongering, and ruthless in pursuit of their goals. Did they really care for any but themselves?

Aether held you tightly that night, singing songs in your shared native tongue that sounded of bells and twinkling glass to lull you into a fitful sleep. In the weeks after, you grew to become friendly with Zhongli once again, and if Aether didn’t know you any better, he would have said you moved on.

Except he did know you better.

Despite his own attempts at explanation, he knew you had to see for yourself what both he and Paimon witnessed during those long months spent in Liyue with Childe and Zhongli. He knew how frustrated the Harbinger and ex-Archon would grow, restless in their seats if you took too long escorting Paimon around the city to collect snacks. Aether got along like fire to a wooden house with the other two, all wit and not-so-professional humor. However, knowing that he fulfilled the diplomatic role to help others, you took the opportunity to try to irritate Childe where you could – at first because of his Fatui status, until it evolved into you and the Harbinger competing to elicit a laugh from present company without throwing hands.

While Aether certainly didn’t like to pry where it wasn’t his business – that was Kaeya’s modus operandi, thank you – he sometimes wondered if Childe and Zhongli viewed you and Aether as the guide to that murky area between mortal and divine. Their robust characters more than once reinforced his idea that Visions reflected personalities rather than the nation’s sovereign ruler. By extension, when he thought about how water crystalizes geo, he concluded that the speed Childe and Zhongli summoned shields and attempted to break them in a conversational dance whenever they were together was due to some deeper, instinctual urge.

That, or they were just nearly the same brand of deceitful, halfwitted idiots.

Perhaps that was why they felt comfortable constructing such a close friendship. To both of them, this merely played into some larger façade, all while convinced that the other was entirely fooled by the thick shield. Aether laughed to himself. The morons got so tangled in mental games, they unknowingly built a true and dependable relationship, if the blatant stress between them in the Golden House was anything to by.

Aether was not born yesterday. He didn’t survive these many millennium by not carefully observing the inhabitants of each world they visited. He is friendly, yes, but not ignorant. And how could he fault you for trying to find some sliver of happiness here, even if it was temporary? Stars above know his own heart ached each night.

That was why he was so sure you felt as comfortable around them as you did with Paimon and himself. The traveling troupe acted as a pacifying force for whatever the hell was going on between Childe and Zhongli being head deep in manipulations. In the little ragtag gang of the three travelers, none of you held tolerance for any bullshit and welcomed only peace, in whatever form a Fatui Harbinger and Geo Archon could manage.

He personally never doubted the authenticity of any sentiments, any stories expressed in conversations between all of you, even if you were now swimming with mistrust. The loneliness of not being able to trust anybody... He doesn't know if he can take much more abandonment after Lumine's entrapment. Everyone holds their own secrets, what they share always has a sliver of truth. Lies are built on that. By extension, Aether had no doubts that Childe and Zhongli were equal parts stubborn, righteous, and fucked up in their own uniquely Teyvaten ways.

At this point though, weren’t you all? Aether glumly drew his gaze upwards to the peak of the mountain. All of this for a five-thousand mora commission? Whoopee.

When the three of you grew closer to Dragonspine, he fell behind to gather tinder for a cooking fire to shake himself out of these deeper thoughts. As Aether returned, he couldn’t help his open fascination as Paimon played dodgeball with the small stones you were hurling at her when she kept commenting on your stove-building skills instead of helping.

In a hidden blessing, some things will never change. While rummaging through his subspace storage, the smile on his face quickly falls when he realizes –

“Guys. We have a problem.”

notes:

1) According to the game, starconches let you hear the ocean, no matter where you are. In a lot of religious texts (Buddhist, Egyptian, Mesopotamian, etc), the oceans are referenced as the bridge between heaven and earth, i.e. "bridge between worlds"

2) In one of childe's voicelines, he specifically references the Traveler wielding a lot of unusual powers without a vision

3) One of the MC's voicelines also references how time in Teyvat seems to be quicker with the days being so short

love yall <3

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x childe #childe #childe x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #zhongli fanfiction #childe fanfic #zhongli fanfic #aether #genshin zhongli #genshin aether #genshin childe

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lettersnorth · 3 years ago

Photo

It'd be nice to catch the breeze! It'd be fun! That's what Cravendy had thought on a whim. But now that she was up here, after crawling through several spaces far too cramped for any normal-sized person to fit through, she determined the effort to get here far outweighed any benefit. And eventually, she'd have to find a way down. Cravs puts that off for later and looks over the Lilly Hills.

After the meeting with Momori, Aislinn comes across a note left on the desk of her study. A request from Cravendy for Aislinn to engineer an undetectable tracking device. Questionable at best, downright shady at worst but also surprising, coming from Cravendy. She knows the clock is ticking on her own issues but before returning to her business in Ishgard, she goes in search of the oddly absent Seawolf to find out exactly why she would need such a device.

With a bit of searching Aislinn finally finds the woman out on the widow's walk on the very top of the Company House. What was it with the people in her life and high altitudes? She clambers out onto the high walk, with a puff of exertion after squeezing herself through the small attic crawlspace. "Nymeia's breath." she mutters under her breath as she appears and then, "Here you are." louder now, for the Seawolf to hear as she dusts herself off.

Cravendy waits in fearful anticipation as something is shoving its way through the crawlspace. When Lin finally emerges, Cravs doesn't know whether to laugh or cry from surprise. "What the 'ell?! Lin? What brings ye up 'ere?" "Ye look like yer 'alf dust bunny." Cravs, having been 'trapped' out here for quite some time, has had ample time to brush herself off.

Aislinn takes a moment to peer over the edge. The view up here was rather nice. She might even make use of this walk herself sometime when she needed some quiet. She made a mental note of it as she stepped back. "You." she replies, her voice as matter-of-fact as ever. "I came across the note you left on my --" she pauses, noting a bit of dusty cobweb still clinging to the edge of her spectacle frame. She sputters and swiftly brushes at it with a wave of her hand. Clearing her throat, she continues, "..my desk. What's this business about an 'undetectable tracking device'?"

Cravendy stifles a giggle as Lin struggles with the spiderwebs caught in her hair. "If ye've got 'alf a mind to come up 'ere again, we should bring in a team of professional cleaners. It was 'ard for me too, and 'arder still with bugs and splinters every ilm."

"But, ah. Mm." Cravs scratches the back of her head and turns away. This was something she had shared with Riylli and Rising - would Lin respond in the same way? Normally, Cravs would brush off the request, switch the topic. But with two out of two on her side, maybe...just maybe Lin would be receptive as well.

"To put it shortly, I need it to incriminate someone of bein' an arse."

"We should." Aislinn agrees, momentarily pulling the glasses from her face and inspecting them with a frown to be sure they were clean. "I'd wager no one's set foot in the attic in an age." Fitting the frames brusquely back on her face, she passes Cravendy a skeptical look. "Not saying there's not a time or place for that but that might be putting it a little too short for me. Is there a longer version?"

Cravendy grimaces, reacting as if Lin is suggesting she needs a tooth pulled. "Shit...the longer version? Uh, the full version? Ye really got time for that? Not that it's anythin' big." She wheezes. "I mean, relatively, it's small, in the grand scheme of Eorzea burnin'."

The more Cravendy hems and haws, the more Aislinn's concern grows. "I'm not asking for the -full- story if you've not the inclination. But you've got to admit that if you're asking me to hand you a device like that, I need to know at least a little bit as to why. Not only for the obvious reasons as to whether we're wandering into a gray area with a -tracker- but to inform the parameters of this project. What sort of range, for how long, and so on." she explains.

"There's a loanshark that's botherin' someone I want to 'elp. I figure if I can bring 'em down, they won't be able to pester 'im anymore," Cravs eventually admits, arms crossed. "But on the surface, their record is clean. So I...I may 'ave broken a law or two in order to find some dirt."

"I need the tracker to prove the loanshark's up to no good. Evidence that'll be 'arder to trace back to my own lawbreakin'."

Aislinn expels a troubled breath. It wasn't the lawbreaking that bothered her. Far be it from her to lecture anyone about something like that. She stares out at the vista over Cravendy's shoulder with a considering tilt of her head. In the end, she couldn't hold it against Cravendy if she decided to hold information back. It wasn't like Aislinn herself was as forthright as she could be with her either. "A normal tracker would just tell you where a person's been. A trail on a map. Is that going to be enough?"

"As long as this tracker can't be sensed by Limsa's best, can lead me to wherever she's storin' 'er illegal goods, then it'll be more than enough." Cravs puts a finger over her lips. "....Oh. And if it can somehow be 'idden in a vat of toad ooze."

"I'm 'opin' to bait 'er with it, ask a favor from Dirtpatch, 'ave everythin' legally look....bad, tear down 'er reputation. Maybe even toss her into gaol." Cravs nods, satisfied. "A sound plan, eh?"

Aislinn shoots a glance over to Cravendy, a small measure of amusement sparking there despite her misgivings. "A vat of toad ooze." she echoes. She inhales and tries to think it through like it was a reasonable problem set and not at all the odd request it was. "Acidic? That depends. Corrosion could be a problem if you needed it to last longer than a few bells. And what makes you think she'd drag toad ooze to wherever you're hoping she goes?"

Cravendy frets by tugging on her braid. She didn't think about that, and after harvesting all that ooze, her hands did feel a bit itchy. "Uh, maybe? Is this somethin' ye can test? It's safe for me to dunk my 'and in for a while. It's sittin' in a barrel in my room if ye want to look at it."

"She's a spice trader, both the dust ye put on food and the, er, 'strong' stuff. I 'eard toad ooze is used by pixies for psychedelic effects, and it sure as 'ell ain't easy to come by. She won't resist tradin' for a vat for it, I think."

"Not just a loanshark, then." Aislinn notes. A bit of fire flickers through her eyes. The drug trading detail seems to have drawn the woman's ire. "I can test it." she affirms. "Once I know what I'm dealing with I can decide on a case of some sort. A shell that would protect the device. But that might limit my options, if it still needs to let an encrypted signal through. Maybe something with a delayed activation? She wouldn't detect it at first if she were looking. But then it'd wake itself up somewhere down the line not too long after she took the bait." Aislinn is clearly thinking out loud now, hooked by the challenge set before her.

"Then it'd be a matter of knowin' when to activate it. It could take a couple of suns for it to make it to 'er," Cravs ponders. "So when it activates, ye think she could sense it then? If that's the case, the moment it goes off, I better be ready to jump into action."

"'ow are ye gonna make a delayed shell like that? I've 'eard of slow actin' medicine, but a slow actin' tracker....and an undetectable one at that. Think that's in the realm of possibility?"

The planning and sketching going on in Aislinn's mind is halted by Cravendy's question like a pen scratching wildly off the boundaries of a page. "What do you mean, could she sense it? I thought she might, at best, scan the vat of toad ooze with her own equipment. How would anyone sense a ping of a device going online? Does she have something I don't know about?"

"That's the thing." Cravs snaps her fingers. "I 'ave no clue. If someone was storin' illegal goods, what sort of security measures would they take? I'm imaginin' an empty barn, maybe 'idden by some trees, but...eh. I dunno. What do ye reckown?"

"Depends on how sophisticated an operation you're dealing with." Aislinn answers with a half shrug. "Is this just a side job for her, something to make a little extra gil or is this her livelihood she has to protect? Is she an arrogant person who thinks she'll never get caught or is she paranoid? How long has she been at this?" Aislinn waves a hand through the air as if to say 'and so on and so forth'. "Let's plan as though it's the worst case scenario. She's wily, she's paranoid and she's been at this for years. If so, hiding something in the product might not be the best way to outsmart her." Lin drummed her fingers against her arm in thought. "Who's meeting her to make the trade?"

Cravendy considers this, is relieved to have asked Lin about such matters. "'ow do I put this...what I'm 'opin' to incriminate 'er of wasn't illegal until the Admiral got in charge of Limsa. So at the least, she's been hidin' her stuff for five years. But I would lean on longer, since hidin' from the law is one thing, hidin' from a rats nest of pirates is another."

"As for who's makin' the trade...a couple of old friends of mine. Nostalgically inclined friends."

"You're trying to catch a pirate." Aislinn said with a dawning realization. A conflicted look flitted across Aislinn's face for the briefest of moments. She had recently found reason to feel differently about certain pirates than most. But Cravendy was speaking of a drug trading, loanshark pirate, she reminds herself and stays the course. In every business there was the good, the bad and the downright ugly. "Do you think money will change hands? Or a drink of some sort. I could work with something like that." she shakes her head. "Either way just give me some time to think and I'm sure I can come up with something. When are your friends meeting her?"

"I wouldn't call 'er a pirate. Too old...or...." Cravs looks into the distance. Mindred might have been a pirate in her heyday, and that explained a lot. She blinks. "Ahem, anyway, when everythin' 'appens is up to me. When everythin's ready I can tell my friends what they need to know."

"Back when I 'ung out with 'em, exchanges were drink free, actually. Everyone 'ad appearances to keep up, and no one wanted a deal to go sour cause Bob can't keep their 'ands off the bottle. But money, aye. Money was exchanged."

Aislinn nods. "Alright, then. As I said, give me some time. I'll come up with something." she hesitates, knowing time wasn't exactly something she had in spades at the moment. "Sooner rather than later, you can be sure."

"No rush. I expect we'll 'ave our 'ands busy with Momori's bullshite anyway. Cheeky lil' red eyed bugger." Cravs shrugs. "It ain't as pressin', is what I'm sayin'."

Relief seems to relax her upon hearing that Cravendy didn't need this device right away. "She says this is all about saving the star. But I still don't trust her an ilm. She isn’t the altruistic sort." Lin turns for the door, preparing to scoot herself back through. "Just...be careful with this drug deal business, alright? Generally, they aren't the best people to be messing around with, you know?"

"There's some other angle she's playin' at, I'm sure of it. Either that, or she's just plain bad at actin' normal." Cravs laughs - she's heard stories about Momori's attempts to smile. "Aye, don't worry. I've dealt with 'er kind afore. Not against 'em, but eh. Same difference."

With the details ironed out, the only thing left now was to figure out how to get down. The passageway through the attic beckoned to the two, promising hair full of webs and dust up the nose. Cravs groans.

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #rp snippets #Aislinn's shady past comes in handy #All these pirates #Cravendy Hound

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techouspeaks · 4 years ago

Text

Healin Good Precure Final Verdict and thoughts on Tropical Rouge Precure!

First off, sorry I haven’t been around that much to even talk about Healin Good. First, I just kinda lost interest in doing reviews for a while and then some personal snit just had to be thrown in when I really wanted to discuss somethings. So this review is kinda gonna be slightly unorganized but I’ll do my best and I’m really sorry about Precuruary again not being this year. This past year has been whoo! Just yeah...Anyway! I will try to be more active when I can be but I can’t make any promises right now. So onto the review!

I know every year I’ve said that each precure seems a little better than the previous ones in some aspects. Like for example, Star Twinkle I felt was a little better than Hugtto in terms of overall enjoyment and characters, but it lacked developing the plot and the lackluster in the personality of the princesses. They could have had each princess have the certain traits expected from their signs such as Virgo being a perfectionist and Aries being hot tempered.

Than again, maybe it’s cause I just think anything is better than Kira Kira! lol! I know I get a little harsh with that series. Given the other series that came before and after, can you blame me? There are better series than that. (In my opinion, anyway.)

Healin Good, I can definitely say this was a good ride for both plot, character, music and animation! Yes, the designs for the cures were a little lack luster and I still can’t help but get Cure Flora vibes from Grace, but eventually, I got used to it. In fact, while I know it was the anniversary of Yes Precure 5 Go Go!, I almost felt like they should have just made that into a separate movie and have Healin Good meet Go Princess since the cures there have a lot in common!

But of course being their own thing. They’re not copies of the GoPre girls, but they share definitely some things in common such as Cure Grace and Cure Flora’s flower theme, Cure Sparkle and Cure Twinkles love for fashion and star themes and Cure Fountain and Cure Mermaid for the water themes.

In terms of plot, it wasn’t like the most amazing plot ever, but it was decent and coherent. It was a serviceable plot that did the bare minimum and not be too crazy and outlandish and the morals at least made more sense unlike Twinkle. There was no getting grumpy dog people to learn to smile and be happy.

Yes, the one thing that doesn’t make sense is how Cure Earth came to be and I will admit she as well as Fountain are the least interesting girls. I know people love Fountain/Chiyu! For me, blue cures have interesting stories but a personality that doesn’t fit it. They’re okay but I always feel like they’re just the cool kid that’s typically the responsible role model and nothing more, with the exception of Cure Marine and Cure Beauty, the later fits that role but she also has a bit more to her in terms of personality. The backstory for Fountain/Chiyu doesn’t make sense either. She sees the horizon line between the ocean and the sky and wants to jump that high. Then at first she’s just sees high jump as fun, which annoys a rival of hers and thus she’s pressured to like it more than just a school thing. It’s weird and almost complicated...

Cure Earth/Asumi is sorta a motherly kind of character since she’s in her 20s in appearance, but still a fish out of water. I’m glad they didn’t make her a teen so she had to go to school with the girls and she’s like the first adult main cure (Like I get Cure Flower, ancient cures and the Hugtto Cures, but I’m talking as in the main team member and not a side character type thing.) Which is nice, it shows that yes adults can be heroes. I mean we had adult superheroes all the time and the teen was just the less experienced side kick.

As for personality, she’s a bit of a blank slate but I love her design! I know Green Cure and all wah, but hate to say it, the more people complain that there isn’t a green cure in every season, the more I’m kinda glad cause people get sooo uptight like they’re whitewashing a character or something. Like stop! It’s just a team color for Pete’s sake! Like even if they did her as a green cure, she’s kind of bland in personality so would you be happy with a green cure that’s sorta the blank slate?

I’m not saying she’s bad. She can be funny and it can be enjoying to watch her understand feelings and things since while an adult physically, she was basically born out of a whim and only knows how to talk and understand the basis of the Healing Garden as well as Princess Latte and Queen Teatinu. Shoot, she couldn’t even eat on her own.

My two favorite characters by far have to be Nodoka aka Cure Grace and Hinata aka Cure Sparkle. Hinata is just a fun character. She’s emotional, got a go getter attitude and I like the fact she’s into fashion but isn’t over the top annoying or particularly snobby, kinda like Cure Twinkle but different that Cure Twinkle has more of a professional attitude and higher skills, while Cure Sparkle is a bit clumsy and overly excited about everything. She has insecurities and flaws but thanks to Nodoka and Nyantoran, she gets over these rather quickly.

As for Nodoka, I know people are disappointed that her illness turned out nothing more than Daruzen, I don’t blame them for going this route. Yes, it kinda gives an unrealistic impression that the disease just simply needs to jump out of someone and they’ll be okay. I can’t help but think it might have backfired especially given the time since we had the you know what virus. So many kids were watching their families get destroyed and while, yes, it would be good to teach kids to stay strong and fight through it and that it takes time for people to recover fully, it could also be too overbearing for them as well if they happen to have a loved one who is sick or they themselves and are just constantly reminded of the suffering.

Put it short, there’s kind of no best way around it. You can either do it this way and there might be some kids that think well the virus can just jump out or do it the other way and risk kids getting depressed and anxious, which would be bad as depression and anxiety in kids has risen a lot since 2020. For me, I think kids are smarter than we give them credit. They are gonna be aware that stuff in cartoons/anime works differently than in the real world, so I feel like the route they took was better. It was already risky having the main character be sick and being put in the hospital to begin with.

With that being said, Nodoka is a good character for more reasons than her being sick and fighting an illness. She wants to be supportive because she needed support. Just because her illness turned out to be some alien germ from another dimension, doesn’t make her desire to help any less meaningful. She did suffer a lot, fought through pain and suffering through an unknown amount of time. Just cause she healed miraculously doesn’t make her suffering not real and her inspiration and influence on others less so.

Bottom line, it doesn’t matter how she healed, she still suffered, got inspire by those who helped her and thus inspired those to work hard on getting better. The message is still there.

But there is another thing that makes her special and that is when Nodoka told Daruzen off! That alone was the most inspiring thing ever done in a Precure series in a LONG time! It’s not just her standing up to a bully. She stood up to her abuser! And yes, I do like Daruzen and at first I thought they would be a cute couple, but I will admit when Daruzen took things too far and as someone that’s been sexually harassed and known people who were forced on, I can’t push forward with the ship or Daruzen for that matter.

When Daruzen needed help, Nodoka pushed him away and then he outright made her feel bad about it. “I thought you were about helping others.” This is a tactic used by abusers, taking advantage of the kindness their victim usually has and congrats to Rabirin for being the best partner to a Precure.

Nodoka holds no responsibility for Daruzen. He used her thus abused her, he caused so much pain not only onto her but to those around her. Put it short, Nodoka doesn’t owe Daruzen anything! That to me is one of the most important lessons to teach anyone especially young kids. It’s good to teach others to be kind and forgive folks, but if you don’t want to than don’t especially if they have done nothing but hurt you. Your health including mental health comes first above all else. It’s not selfish especially if the one needing help was selfish first and didn’t think about you in the long run.

So as much as I think that Daruzen X Nodoka could have been cute, I can’t help but applaud Toei for going this route instead. Especially these days, I feel it’s really important teach kids that it’s okay to think of what’s best for you, including putting a limit on helping people and setting boundaries. I’ve known even family members and friends that were in this situation where they had to stop helping someone, because that person took advantage of them and they had to put their foot down, cause they had to finally think of their own health and well being. It’s not selfish. It’s important to take care of yourself first!

Speaking of mascots, all the mascots are useful including Latte, which is the main mascot that is in peril the most since the villains make her sick. However, she is far from a passive pup as some people pass her off as. She does know when to put her paw down and even in the midst of her suffering, she does try when she can to help. Even go as far as refusing Nodoka’s care until she and Rabirin settle their differences to work together. She also has the ability to sense when the earth needs help and is the only animal that can do this. She also refuses Cure Earth’s/Asumi’s overly servitude towards her, showing she knows when to speak out about her own well being. True Latte doesn’t get too much to shine but when she does it’s rather welcomed.

Normally with mascots, I don’t care for them since they tend to be typically one note. The mascots for Healin Good are all memorable with their own personality and they grow along side their respected cures. The only mascots I know that grew a lot was Yes! Precure 5/Go! Go’s Coco, Nuts and Milky, Go Princess Precure’s Aroma and Puffu. Mofurun only showed much growth in the movie where they became a cure. Though Mofurun is still more useful than the mascots in Kira Kira. (Yes, I will always take the opportunity to slam on that series!)

Speaking of Kira Kira...Oh boy. Well I was a little excited to finally have an ocean themed precure series with a mermaid, my excitement kinda dropped when I noticed the transformation compact and transformation. I’m gonna go a head and review the first episode since I watched it.

I’ll first start off the with positives and move on to what I wouldn’t say are horrible things, but more so my overall concerns with it.

First, like others, I’m glad we got a lead cure that isn’t pink for once. This is a first since Splash Star Precure, whom I don’t think Cure Bloom counts. I mean in the first season, she kinda is pink, but then when she becomes Cure Bright her colors change so I kinda count her as being mix color, while Cure Dream was the first official Pink Cure.

I also like that while Manatsu/Cure Summmer is another happy go lucky type, she does have a bit more zest and isn’t the overall cutesy happy go lucky cures we’ve come to know. She’s different from Cure Star and Cure Yell, in which she’s happy go lucky in a more of a hot headed sense, than the cute, been bullied but still brave kid which was Cure Star and Yell.

Manatsu/Summer reminds me of Lina Inverse from Slayers and other similar red head characters from that era, which makes sense she is a red head. (Least Manatsu is).

The transformation and battle scenes are better too. I was worried that because the pact and start of the transformation looked so similar to Kira Kira, I was worried it would be exactly the same but it’s different enough it seems. My only gripe is that maybe Cure Summer’s final pose at the end for her transformation sequence could have been a bit more dramatic. Her pose look lack luster compared to the rest of her transformation.

The animation in Cure Summer’s attack is amazing but the 3D part of is a little distracting somewhat. I feel like the sun could have been done in 2D. Other than that, animation is gorgeous! Bright and colorful with nice detailing within the characters and background.

I also can’t help adore Cure Coral/Sango’s design and character. She hasn’t appeared that much, but already I kinda already adore her! She’s so precious and I can tell she’s already gonna be a fan favorite among many! I also like how she seems sweet and quiet but isn’t shy either. She’s rather just down to earth, just doing her own thing but still being polite. Refreshing take especially on a purple cure!

Now onto my issues with it. Starting with a bit too many similarities to Kira Kira such as the transformation pact and the overly energetic, silly theme. I don’t mind silly when it’s balanced out right. For me, it’s a bit too crazy and kinda the issue I had with Cure Princess and sometimes Cure Marine. I get that it’s about motivation VS procrastination. I hope they work it out to teach kids there’s an importance of both. Just teach that you need a bit of balance. Right now, it’s just not. Manatsu kinda gets on my nerves a little bit and then you have Laura...

I kinda have mix feelings about Laura. On one hand, I do relate to her. She’s a little vain and I like the fact that despite being a main character, she’s actually quite selfish! Her whole desire to do this mission is out of hope that she’ll be the next Queen, which apparently, the current Queen isn’t her mom I guess, but she’s chosen to be in line and she seems to want to be Queen simply for the selfish reason to be praised and adored, not cause she wants to help her people. I like this for the fact that it makes her far different from Cure Milky/Lala, whom many have said she was probably a little too responsible for her age, but I digress, Lala/Cure Milky is one of my favorite cures.

What I’m concern is the fact that Laura will outshine the cures and take over the spotlight especially when she becomes a Cure. There’s no denying this will happen especially since it’s been confirmed the Midseason Cure is called Cure Le Mer, which is her last name. She seems to already outshine the mascot for the series Kururun, who is the first mascot to not meet the lead cure in the first episode because the poor thing barely gets any screen time!

I noticed this especially when the products for the series came out that Kururun is barely in any of the merchandise. I guess after focusing so much on the mascots for three seasons, having at least one be the token mascot to save all humanity, they decided “Eh, lets just make a mermaid the star seller and just have the mascot be squeezed in for those who want a stuffed animal.”

I get that the Midseason cures tend to take over the spotlight anyway, but I don’t always agree. Cure Scarlet and Cure Earth kinda grew along side the other cures. Taking time for both them and another Cure or character to shine as well. With Laura, because she’s already part of the group, hopefully won’t outshine the cures, but being how much they merchandise and show her off, it’s looking a bit bleak for anyone who isn’t Manatsu/Cure Summer when Cure Le Mer takes the stage.

I also fear since the series was announce that Asuka/Cure Flamingo maybe too much like Cure Chocolate given how her design is similar. I love her design, her’s is my favorite design of the bunch, but you can’t deny she looks like Cure Chocolate with longer hair. I hope they give her and the other cures more personality and growth especially before Laura becomes a cure.

Other than those gripes, I don’t hate it and do like some things about it. Maybe I’m just used Healin Good’s more relaxed theme that I’m kinda skeptical for this more wild, eccentric series. Maybe it will grow on me in time. Hoping it does since as said, been wanting an ocean themed Precure series with mermaids in it for a looong time!

Without further a due, I give Healin Good Precure 8 out of 10 stars. Won’t rate Tropical Rouge Precure until the end of the season. Seeya in the next review!

8 Stars Level: “Great!”

#Healin' Good Precure #healin good precure #tropical rouge precure #precure

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