#continue hating if you want but don't expect me to envy you

[abluehappyface]

Man being sick makes you think about the stuff you "don't care about" just a tiny bit more than usual

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: one

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.

Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.

"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"

And she was going to get them.

She swore it.

'fuck you (name)'

Holy shit this place was big.

God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.

The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.

(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"

What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...

"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"

"A-are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That this is for me?"

"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"

(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.

They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.

(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...

Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.

A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.

It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.

Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.

He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!

Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!

(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!

(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!

He needed to walk, movement to process this.

Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.

Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.

"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"

"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"

And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"

"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.

"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.

"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."

(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.

And for once?

He sleped peacefully.

(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.

Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.

(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"

"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"

"I- uh... I'm not sure..."

Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.

It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.

"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"

(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.

(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.

"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"

Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.

"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.

The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.

(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.

(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"

He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.

Or at least he hoped.

Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.

"I- uh... Thank you?"

(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.

He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"

Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!

A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!

"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.

"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"

Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!

"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.

But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.

"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.

Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.

Like it was all going to go away.

His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.

"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.

He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.

(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.

Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.

They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.

(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.

But now, (name) had one worry...

Would he invite his family to his wedding?

[wilhelmina1233]

I am back.

I wanna explain why I just suddenly crashed a yesterday...

It has been on my mind, In September, when my friend started uploading their OC here, I saw that many people commented on their post, Many people seemed like they actually cared. I didn't mind it much, I was happy they were getting SUPPORT. Then after a while, the more they posted, the more comments on their posts got. People interacted with them, talked with them, complimented them. After a while I started comparing my introduction card and theirs, 10 uncommented reblogs, 60 likes, 0 comments. No comments. No comments. No one supported me or complimented, just liked. I tried to ignore it and told myself I will get comments if I post more. So I continued. And then my other friend came to join the community, somehow, they still got comments and support. And another new creator came, and people commented on their posts too, talking about the character's lore. Watching all of these happen to others while my comments always stay on 0 made me feel so... disappointed, like, am I not doing much? It made me think that my comments are turned off and I checked it DAILY. I only ever got comments during hard situations, or when I gifted people, never on my work. I got my FIRST comment on my work on the MoonMan animation, I was so happy. I tell you. To me, comments make me motivated, It's like support to me. Thats why when I firstly posted Muri, I didn't post for another month. I didn't get any comments on her. I thought people didn't like her.

-now, IM SUPER GRATEFUL FOR ALL OF YOU!!!! yall are amazing, I have mentioned it many times about how much I love you all. Im super grateful for everyone and everything. Don't think wrongly, but sometimes Envy gets the best of me. And I'm shocked to say this. The thing that happened the day I crashed was an episode.

-In September I was overthinking, and then suddenly Sweetswirlybread came out of no where and then the situation continued and continued to the point a picture of me was EXPOSED here and even my private blog and fake accusations and all the distress and emotions I was feeling stacked up and caused a big episode on me that lasted longer than expected. My episodes usually last a few hours or a day, but this time it lasted for a whole week. When I am during episodes I can't tyep properly, which is probably why the way I spoke in my last post was not that understandable. After I made that post I cried the whole day, not even because of the situation, just because of how hard the episode hit me. Remembering all the distress and suddenly getting told to delete all my accounts and that people are tracking me down angered me.

-I completely crashed out in my last post, I was angry at everyone and also at myself, I was disappointed in everyone and felt strong emotions. And I am sorry for putting pressure on everyone, I am sorry letting my episode go through so easily, usually, I'm not on my phone during episodes. But I seriously felt so dark at the moment. Right now, I look at my last post, and even I don't understand the words I wrote.

-I am NOT forcing you all to comment on my posts, no!! If you don't want to talk in my posts then sure, I'm okay with it. It's okay if you're too busy, or embarrassed, or just in general don't talk in people's posts. I'm not asking you for anything, If you guys won't comment on my post it won't cause me another episode, so don't worry about that too. I know It's not only hard for me, but It's hard for everyone. I am happy you all support me in your own ways, you're all amazing. I love you all. I really do, I'm sorry for making you think otherwise.

I know you guys support me, It was hard for me to see it through so much envy I was feeling. Plus the whole drama crashed me so much distress so I was so confused and disappointed to the point I completely crashed.

I wanna say that I am sorry for worrying anyone, or if I put pressure on people, or if you think that I hate you. I am deeply sorry for it, and I felt very bad the day after. I really am sorry. I want to show how much I actually do appreciate you all.

I love you all, I'm sorry for getting mad so suddenly. If you still have any questions about what I meant in some sentences in my last post I can tell you in a more understanding way.

I had to cut my break short cus I felt deeply saddened by how I crashed out on everyone. And i wanna say I am sorry.

[animeficsworld]

Babysitter

Metal Bat x Reader

Summary:  You are the babysitter of the one and only Metal Bat's little sister. But what happens when a certain man starts liking you?

---

Zenko specifically asked for you.

She wanted you to be her babysitter since she liked you so much. You met her when she was waiting for her brother to pick her up, you were concerned to see a child alone so you walked up to her.

You noticed that she was a very strong person immediately. And so, you agreed to be there for her.

She needed you a lot, when she had practice or when her brother was busy with his hero stuff, you took care of her.

And while you looked after Zenko, a certain hero had his eyes on you. But of course, you didn't know about that. You would have never thought that a man like Bad will like you, so you just contiued with your secret crush.

One time you went to pick up Zenko after her practice, when you noticed Bad standing there. 

"Oh." you said as he looked at you. 

"Y/N."

"Hello Bad. I thought I will have to pick Zenko up."

"I didn't have anything to do so I came, I should have called you not to come." 

"It's okay, I promised her that we would stop at the donut shop in front of the station, will you join us?" He looked a bit surprised. 

"You shouldn't treat her this many time. I heard you treated her to ice cream the other day."

"It's okay, I like spending time with her."

"At least let me pay you back." he said as he reached for his wallet. 

"No no. It's really okay."

There was a moment of silence as you just stood there next to each other, waiting for Zenko. You finally decided to speak up.

"You know, Bad. Your sister is really something. She's so fierce, independent, I envy her, she's so fearless. I'm very thankful and happy that she asked me to look after her whenever I can." 

"I like you." you looked up at the hero standing next to you, you were shocked. Did you hear him correctly?

"Huh?"

"I like you, Y/N. Please go out with me." you could only blink.

"Onii-chan!" You suddenly heard Zenko. She rushed to her brother and hugged his leg. Then she looked at you. "Why is your face so red, Y/N-chan?" The siblings looked at you and this only made it worse.

"N-Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just...hot. Yeah, I think I shouldn't have worn a thick jacket." you laughed awkwardly. 

"Well, Onii-chan, Y/N-chan promised donuts for me, so I'm going."

Zenko grabbed his brother's and your hand and lead you in the direction of the store. You were still shocked about Bad's confession. It wasn't that you didn't like him, you did, it was just that you really didn't expect him to say something like that.

In the end, Bad paid for all of your food and drinks. As all three of you sat at a table, eating while Zenko talked about her day.

Then when she left to go to the bathroom, the silence between you two continued. You knew you needed to do something or he might get the wrong idea.

"B-Bad...I-I don't know how to say this, you, an S class hero, liking me, you shocked me. B-but I don't hate it. I also like you, it's just that I'm a bit ner-" you couldn't finish your sentence as he leaned over the table and kissed you on the lips. His lips were smooth. And when he pulled back he was blushing a bit.

"I'll take you on a date. I'll text you details later."

"O-Uhm. Okay." you said, blushing madly.

Zenko arrived back and both of you pretended like nothing happened. 

***

You didn't even notice, but only a week later, you were waiting for Bad under the Christmas tree at the station. He still had five minutes to arrive. He said he will take you on a cosy date.

"Y/N!" you heard him yell. "You look beautiful." he said. a slight pink tint on his face, you assumed it was because of the cold weather.�� 

"Thank you." although he was wearing his usual black trousers with his red shirt under, he wore a jacket today. And of course, his bat was right in his hand. 

"I hope you like hot chocolate." he said as he started to walk with you following him.

"I do."

He bought you a hot chocolate which almost burnt your tongue, it was so hot. During the date you talked about yourself and so did he, you got to know each other better. You learned that he actually was a very soft person although his attitude and the way he spoke was telling you otherwise.

Bad really was an amazing person, and you felt very lucky to spend time with him, that is until a group of his fans decided to come up to you.

You would never mind fans, but they weren't nice. They kept on shoving you further away from him until you weren't even close. You decided to just wait out what would happen and stood there. You watched as they all drolled over him, some even touched him, that not only bothered you, but him as well.

"STOP!" he yelled and the girls got shocked. "I have a date, and you are taking it too far. I don't mind pictures or whatever, but now you need to leave!" he didn't even wait as he pushed the girls away and grabbed your hand, walking away. His other hand was gripping his bat in anger. Soon the two of you arrived at a rather isolated place. 

"Thank you." you said so softly he barely heard you, but he did. You stopped in front of you and just stood there for a second before he turned around to face you.

"You are beautiful." he said as snow began to fall. 

You decided not to say anything, you pulled him close by his shirt and kissed him. You closed this eyes and let your feelings get the best of you. You only heard your heartbeat and when he wrapped his arms around you, you hear him drop his bat. 

You were so glad that you became Zenko's babysitter, now you knew you needed to find a way to tell her that you fell in love with her brother.

[t-a-a-1]

The Darkest Hour

Ch.2: Trust

Summary:

After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

……..

This story is a slow burn. Eventual smut. Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment (he is smitten, obsessed) to you but nothing OOC. Lots of yearning, craving, hurt, betrayal, erotic and that good stuff. Ok bye. In case of any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, requests, etc. You may message me here. Thank you for reading!

For a better reading experience you can read this story on Ao3:

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/154846393

Ch.2: Trust

It's about a 14-hour drive. You had given Optimus coordinates of where the relic is supposed to be.

    He doesn't need gasoline to function. He had something called 'Energon' that kept him going. It was awkward to ask him to stop every two hours at a gas station. But you had your necessities and you couldn't go without food either. You envied him to an extent. His biology seems to be very static, mostly because his species has lived for millions of years. He doesn't change, no matter what he eats or not. You wonder how he viewed time.

After millions of years pass, will he remember you? Probably not. To him, you will be just another human he met on a little planet called Earth.

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Prime, don't you need to rest?" you ask him, he has been driving for about eight hours. And besides the occasional restroom breaks you had to make, he didn't stop.

"No."

    He is not much of a talker. You were not going to force him to talk either.

    There were so many questions you wanted to ask but you know he won't give you an answer.

    "So ... Do you like being the leader of the Autobots?"

You didn't know what else to say or ask. The question sounded stupid and you only realized that now after asking. But you hated the silence and more so the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Yes."

    You weren't expecting him to answer. You wouldn't blame him if he didn't. However, you are glad he did.

"And tell me, how did you came to be the leader of the Autobots?"

    Maybe you were pushing it a little. But if you were certain of something, is that men love to talk about themselves. Of course, you didn't know if the same rule applied to a robotic alien but it didn't hurt to try.

"I was an archivist with dreams," his voice is gentle but you can't tell anything from it. Not a single emotion. "Young and with a lot of hope. That was enough to make me a Prime. I am sure you can imagine the rest."

"An idealist with charisma and unbreakable morals," you look at the road in front of you. It's starting to get dark. "Do you also want to pretend to die as a hero?"

"I am no hero," he said. "I am just a soldier."

"I never said you were. But a part of me believes you are pretending to be one," you tried to watch your words, trying not to sound too hard.  "Will you listen to advice from an organism that has lived not even a quarter of your life?"

    Optimus stays quiet.  You took this as a sign to continue.

"I've met all kinds of people. Idealists, people who had good intentions, people who thought they would change the world," On the path, you saw that you were approaching a bump on the road. "They all liked playing hero."

    You thought Optimus would slow down but he didn't. Instead, he goes over it, causing the whole truck to go up and down. You were wearing a seat belt but it wasn't secure enough. Your head impacts the top of the truck and you fall down quickly to your seat again.

    You thought that either Prime was careless and didn't care about your well-being or he was trying his show his annoyance.

"And at the end when it comes to war, their morals bend. They kill, they make others suffer," you rub your head, pretending that it didn't hurt you so as to not give him any type of satisfaction.  "Don't pretend to be something you can't be."

"Anyone can be a hero."

    There's finally some emotion in his voice. One you could recognize. Determination.

    You quickly remember that you have to pretend. To believe things you no longer believe.

"The world doesn't need a hero, it needs a leader," the night has finally arrived. On the vastness of the road, nature surrounds you.  "And I've never seen anyone be both. I don't think such a person exists."

    You don't blame him for having such idelogies. After the things he's been through, there's nothing left for him to do but hope.

And you shouldn't be talking about morals you no longer have.

"If I ever see such a person, I'll know the moment I lay eyes on them."

    He doesn't do anything and you thought that would be the end of the conversation.

"If you do, please, allow me to meet them as well."

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    It was the middle of the night when the two of you arrived at your destination. You looked at Optimus as the two of you stared at a plateau. It was impressive, to say the least, but nothing you haven't seen before.

"It's ... a really big rock ..."

    It was a first time for Optimus. Nevada may have high elevation points but nothing compared to this. Coming from a planet that was completely made out of metal, his mind may not have been able to imagine that nature could create something way bigger than him.

    He stood around 32 feet tall while the plateau stood around 2,000 feet, maybe even more.

    He kept looking at the scenery around him while you could only look at him.

    You stared at him in awe. You were so close and could hear a few vents, his engines, there was nothing static about him. He was a living, conscious being, with feelings, ambitions and passions, dreams. He was no human but it didn't feel uncanny.

"Are you listening?"

    You had been staring for too long. You quickly turn to look at the cave in front of you. The entrance was big enough to let Optimus inside on his normal size. No need to shift.  It was completely dark but you couldn't feel safer than being accompanied by a 32-foot-tall, gun-loaded robot.

"We go in, I stay close to you."

    He vents heavily. Feeling like you were more of an inconvenience to him. Of course, you were, you were a tiny forgettable human after all. You didn't care, however, he will learn to stand you eventually.

    You had brought a backpack. Inside it, there were cigarettes, a lighter, a blanket, tape, some cash, and other things you might need.

    From it, you pull the flashlight.

You sigh and see your warm breath contract in the coldness with a small fog.

    It's cold. You were wearing multiple layers of clothes but you even know that spending too much time here won't do you any good. It's better to finish the job quickly.

You walk inside the cave first. You were walking based solely on instinct. Waiting for Optimus to take the lead.

"Coordinates show that the relic should be 20 meters inside from here."

    He looks at his wrist, seeming to read something from a data pad.    

"Sounds good, Prime," you say, as you point your flashlight in different directions. You weren't very fond of dark places, but you couldn't let that show.

    It was an awkward walk. Nothing to say but listen to a few nocturnal bugs.

    A few seconds passed until Optimus transformed one of his hands into a laser pistol. It looks exactly like you thought an alien gun would look like. You don't know what better way to describe it but it was simple, made of metal and blue. Mostly resembling big cannons.

    You look over and see what Optimus was pointing at.

"It's a firefly."

    You softly put a hand on his metal leg. You run your fingers through his metal. Signaling him to put them down and hopefully, calm him.

"It's fine."

    You walk past him as he puts away his cannons, his eyes follow you. You don't notice but he studies you. Your delicate touch, engraved on his processor. It felt nice.

But he didn't think about it too much.

    After walking a few more meters in silence. You and Optimus finally find what you've both been looking for. It looked like a plant pot. A very ancient one. White on its base while it had green decorations, it was sealed.

    It was big, not something you could carry. But it should be something simple for Optimus.

    You put a hand on the alien pot but then you hear something on the walls. It all happened too fast, all you could hear was an explosion and fire in front of your eyes. You felt a strong force pick you from the ground. Moving you from side to side with brute force, you know you will end up with bruises and a few injuries.

    Suddenly, your world turns black.

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     You wake up coughing up. Having lost complete consciousness wasn't a first for you but it brought you uncomfortable memories. You are on top of a cold metal platform. But as you look around you realize that it's Optimus' chassis.

    You two were outside the cave. You looked at his face and noticed his optics were closed. Optimus somehow managed to take you out of the cave before collapsing. The reason behind his current state was the hole in his chest, very close to his core.

    A blue liquid was coming out of it.

Still having your backpack on your shoulders, you quickly opened and pulled out the blanket.

"I sent Agent Fowler our coordinates."

    You hear Optimus' voice, he sounds weak but you are glad he is alive.

"I apologize I can't take you back. But I am leaking too much Energon and I wouldn't be able to go far regardless," he makes an effort to lift up his helm and look at his injury.

"Backup should be in the way. It should arrive in a couple of hours."

    You were listening to him as you placed the blanket on top of Optimu's injury. It was big enough to cover the hole. You used it in an absurd way to try and stop the blue liquid from leaking any further. You used the tape to try and keep everything together. You struggled a bit as your fingers were very cold and it was hard to move them. Nonetheless, your method seemed to work. It slowed the leaking enough.

"It's fine. You'll be fine."

    You reassured him. Taking a seat on his chassis and pulling out a cigarette, you turned it on, taking a deep puff before exhaling it. You had to stay warm some way or another. Although having a cigarette on a leaking truck may not be the best of ideas.

"At least we were able to get the relic, can't wait to see what's inside."

    Optimus held the pot on his right servo. You could see it from on top of his chassis.

    The bot was quiet and you looked at him. His optics were once again closed.

"Hey, why don't we talk for a bit?"

    You didn't know anything about Cybertronian biology but if it's similar to human biology in any way, then you know you had to keep him conscious.

"Tell me, what was Cybertron like?"

    He stays quiet. You hear him vent heavily as if he is trying to gain enough strength to talk. You thought he was going to tell you to stay quiet.

"Beautiful."

    He said.

"I still remember each building, each road, the lights, transformers happy and the young sparklings."

    You could hardly ever tell what he was feeling through his voice. But his melancholy was so evident that it made you pity him. It was as if he could see it, right in front of him, on his grasp. Yet, unreachable.

"Was I ... Was I-"

    He takes heavier breaths and you look at him. His optics opened up. Wider and there is some sort of amazement in them.  The kind of awe you had when you first saw him. A self-recognition of the beauty of things greater than you. The awe you can only find in nature in all its glory.

"What is that?"

"What?" You ask.

"That light."

    You look up at the sky and immediately notice what he is talking about. The dark night sky was decorated with purple, pink, green and yellow lights. Moving like a river made of light.

"Oh, the aurora borealis," you finish your cigarette and put the remaining in your backpack. You lay flat on Optimus' chassis. It's cold. All of him.

    Maybe you could start a fire but that would mean leaving Optimus alone to gather the necessary things and you knew how important it was to keep him conscious.

"It's actually not very common to see them this time of the year," you are starting to feel sleepy as well. Your body was slowly acclimating to the coldness. It wasn't a good sign but you had no energy left to move.

"Maybe it's a sign from the universe."

"And what kind of sign would that be? Optimus asked, he could feel you shivering on top of him but was so lost in the sky above him that he didn't notice at first.

"Whatever you want it to be."

    It was moments like this that made you appreciate the small things in life. You have done many things, not everything you wanted but more than you originally expected.

"Thank you for existing, Prime," your voice trembles and is low to the point in which you don't know if he can even hear.

"To you, knowing that there are living species on other planets may be common knowledge," you were completely changing the topic of conversation. But as you feel your eyes close, you start to mumble to yourself. You didn't care if he was listening or not. It was just you, trying to keep a desperate grasp on whatever consciousness you had left.

"But to me, a small human, who grew up thinking that that there was nothing more to life than just growing old and dying..."

    You stop trembling. You couldn't feel anything, it wasn't cold anymore.

"Your whole being, your whole existence... it means something. It's not all meaningless, there's more to life than just this."

    You finally close your eyes, resting. Unable to hear Optimus desperately calling your name, trying to wake you up.

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    You didn't know how long you were asleep. It's not like you cared either. The only thing that matters is that you are in a warm bed.

    But the light in the room was too bright to let you fall into slumber.

    Slowly opening your eyes, you immediately knew that you were in a hospital. Not because of your surroundings but because of that very specific smell. Of medicine, needles, and cleaning products.

"You are finally awake."

    You recognized that voice. It was Agent Fowler who stood next to your bed.

"Tragically."

    You sit on the bed, your body no longer cold but it hurts. Some bruises but nothing feels broken.

"You were out for about three days, don't worry, I contacted your job and told them you were extremely sick," Fowlers picks up a case from the floor.

"How's Prime?" you ask, seeing his every move, you predicted and feared what'll happen next.

"He's alright. That blanket you put on his injury saved him actually."

"And the relic?"

"Under Autobots' jurisdiction," he opened the case but restrained from fully revealing its content. "And under scientific investigation."

"Why are you here?"

    He had a burlesque smile decorating his face. Finally, he pulls piles of paper and puts them on your lap. He holds out a pen in front of you.

"You forgot to sign some documents."

    You harshly took the pen, you didn't even bother to read the papers. It's not like you had any other choice.

"Give me a copy of these when you can," you say. "I could be selling my soul to the devil and I wouldn't know."

"You are giving your secrecy to the United States of America."

"So the same thing, whatever."

    You finish signing the contract, giving the pen back to Fowler as he takes your documentation.

"Well, then, now that's done,"  he puts the papers back in the case and closes it. "I'll introduce you to the rest."

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    There were others similar to Optimus. Without counting the leader of the Autobots, there were four of them. A nice yellow car, a big green one, a blue motorcycle and an ambulance. There was a great variety.

    You didn't know what you found more interesting. The base was large enough to withstand five massive titanic robots or the robotic aliens that looked up and down at you.

"Ratchet, Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead," you point at each of the Autobots. Their optics were really big and they were curious about you as much as you are about them.

"Have I seen you before?"

    Bulkhead asks as he struggles to get closer to you. He is trying to take a better look at your face to recognize it.

"Well, I work as a reporter and come out on TV sometimes," you were equally in awe. You feel so small and weak at the simple thought that if they wanted, they could stomp on you like you could step on a cockroach.

"Oh, you are that reporter that Optimus likes."

"Uh?"

"She is, I remember her face," Arcee gets closer to you. Her digits touch your hair delicately.  "Optimus never misses your reports. Or he records them if he can't see them in time."

"Really? I didn't know that."

    You suddenly feel a sense of pride. Smiling like an idiot.

"By Primus, I am sure he freaked out when he saw you," Bulkhead added unaware of the figure behind him.

"Bulkhead, let's not bother our guests with unnecessary information."

    You stood on the second floor. The section where Agent Fowler usually stands when he likes to talk to the Autobots face to face. 

    Optimus walks past everyone, trying to get a better look at you. He notices a few bruises on your arms.

    You saw some discomfort in his eyes, you wondered if he felt guilty about the explosion. But you thought it would have been better to ignore it and pretend like it didn't hurt you.

"Good to see you are doing fine, Prime."

"I could say the same," his voice sounds more endearing. Less monotone and more vivid. "But I would appreciate it if you stopped calling me Prime and called me Optimus instead."

"Can't do," you moved your head from side to side. The only reason why you called the other bots by their first names is that they didn't have any known last names.

     "Sorry, but I only call people I am close to by their first name. For now, let's keep formalities until we are more acquainted with each other."

    Unconsciously, Optimus gets closer to your face. He seems fascinated by your existence, looking at you the same way you look at him. At awe.

"As you wish."

    You and him shared a few seconds of mutual understanding. Unaware of the looks the other Autobots were giving to each other.

"So, you want to help us find some ancient relics?"

    Arcee was the only one who dared to break the moment. Mostly because everyone felt a little left out of the situation.

"Yes, and I have everything I need right here."

    You turn around to show everyone your backpack. It was rather big and it hurt your back, but after all the events you didn't want to look weak.

"Optimus,"

    Ratchet, who had been nonchalant to the whole situation, finally leaves his area of work to be part of the conversation.

"In your message, you said you had doubts about this human's trustworthiness. Do your feelings remain the same?"

"My feelings towards the matter are not important," Optimus finally steps back, leaving you surrounded by the gigantic bots. "I leave it to you all to decide."

"I am not sure about having a human on missions," Arcee said. "But if she can help us find those relics, I think she should stay for the meantime."

Bumblebee says something you don't understand but it must be something good because you see Bulkhead nod his helm.

"I agree with Bee. She saved Optimus's life. I think she can be trusted."

    Everyone had given their opinion. All eyes then lay on Ratchet who kept a distance from you.

"Ratchet?" Optimus called his name, insisting him to give his opinion on the matter.

"Humans don't do good on cold. You had a blanket that could have helped your survival chances but instead, you used it on Optimus to try and stop the leaking."

    He takes a few steps closer to you and with each step, you feel your body vibrate.

"Why did you do it?

    This was a test. You thought of your honest answer. That your life was insignificant compared to that of an organic being that is almost extinct. There were many humans but only a few Cybertronians.

"Because it was the right thing to do."

    You quickly say, knowing that you didn't have enough time to think about a proper response.

    Ratchet takes a few steps back, going back to his original position. Your heart is beating fast, afraid that you have given the wrong answer.

"Humans can be very unpredictable. Treachurus, deceitful," Ratchet looks at Optimus who stays quiet. He paused and then looked at you.

     "But you have proved to be useful and selfless."

"And most importantly, you saved Optimus's life," Ratchet adds. "For that, I'll agree that you should stay ... um ... What's your name again?"

"Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself," you say, finally relieved to have everyone's approval. "I am (Y/N), nice to meet you!"

        You smile and it was returned by everyone.

    But you look at Optimus who had a soft and delicate smile. Maybe it was the first time you saw past his cold demeanor.

"Welcome to Team Prime."

    After hearing that, you knew were one step closer to your goal.

Mission One: Obtaining the trust of the Autobots.

Status: Complete.

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A/N:

I never thought I would end up writing Transformers Fanfiction but here I am!

    This was harder than I thought, I usually write fantasy so writing something based on Earth was a bit strange.

I do want to apologize if I made any mistakes, lore-wise. I am new to Transformers so I am still learning! I feel like I will be taking some liberties while writing this story as a means to progress to the romance between the reader and Optimus.

Also this is based on Transformers Prime TV Show, so the kids will show up later.

This is a 'slow-burn' story (or not idk)  so I'll slowly build up the tension until Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment to you. Nothing out of character tho (Because I love it when the emotions evolve so much to the point of them being uncontrollable)

    I really would like to explore ways in which Optimus deals with different feelings unknown. Like if he feels jealous, would he try to keep you closer? Would he be afraid to lose you? I think as we progress we will find out.

Also, there will be angst, just because I love betrayals and pain. The yearning and craving to see each other.

I have to finish another story from another fandom but when I am done with that I'll publish more here. Or who knows maybe I'll publish often.

Then again, sorry for any mistakes I made whether its lore wise or grammatical and spelling-wise.

If anyone read this, thank you so much for reading! I do hope you enjoyed it!

Ch.1 >>>

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/767425006949089280/the-darkest-hour?source=share

Ch.3: >>>

[mal-urameshi]

Hearts Under Pressure

A/N: Hey hey everyone! So in my dusty Asks, I remember I had asked about what trope you wanted and a good few of you mentioned Academic Rivals/Enemies to lovers! Now here's the kicker. I distinctly remember, IIRC, @roseamongroses put in a detailed request, however, tumblr at the time deleted it? Because I never touched it. But it had been on my mind ever since and I was like yo! When I have time I must make it a reality! So in my comeback, I'm doing my best to give you guys some decent literature while dusting off my rust! Let's goo!

Pushing, shoving, crowding, loud murmurs and squeaking of shoes against tile and or hard-wood floors. All tell-tale signs of students who are eager, desperate, essentially feral to find out about their academic standing.

Sighs of relief, woeful groans and the occasional hiccup leading to wails of horror wafted through Shuri's ears.

This was not new to her, nor did the reactions of her colleagues phase her. Shuri staggered forward as another worried student fought and shoved their way to the front of the crowd in hopes to find their name at a decent rank.

Shuri had no need to fight her way to the front row, however. Her eyes automatically zoned in on the name at the top of the list.

'Shuri Udaku.' stared back at her in bold font.

That was all she needed to know. Turning away, she manoeuvred herself out of the classroom and headed down the hallway. And just like that the first semester of her second year had concluded.

The courses weren't particularly hard, yet her colleagues never posed much of a challenge to her. Their efforts were decent at best, but they were a far cry from being able to intellectually stimulate her.

For the entirety of her academic tenure thus far, she topped every class she'd been in. The lecturers praised her and certain students envied her performance. That was to be expected.

Don't get her wrong, she wasn't bragging or being boastful, nothing of the sort. She was simply unmatched.

Glancing at her watch, she decided to go get something to eat to kick off her week-long break.

Monday came quickly which meant classes had resumed. Shuri adjusted her shades as she walked through campus. Her first class was in the next five minutes so she hurried along the parking lot.

The revving of an engine caught her ears, and right as she turned around her heart nearly leaped out of her chest.

Luckily, the car braked in the nick of time, else she would have been road kill.

The driver's side of the car opened and a short girl with cornrows stepped out, "Yo! I'm so sorry! I coulda killed you just now. Thank God I didn't, right?" The girl tried to laugh it off, "I thought I fixed the braking issue but I should take a look at it later."

Shuri took a step back from the...she gave the car a once over. It was a red Ford Mustang. It looked to be in great condition. Save for the questionable mechanics.

"I'm just grateful you didn't kill me. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a class to get to and I'd hate to be late." And with that, Shuri turned on her heel and walked off to class.

Not before looking back at the girl one last time. She was cute.

It seemed Bast herself was looking out for Shuri as she somehow made it to class with time to spare. She took out her notebook and began scribbling some notes as the teacher broke down the syllabus for the semester.

Twenty minutes later the door to the classroom opened, drawing the attention of the class.

"Sorry Teach! I was looking for a parking space but I couldn't find one. I had to improvise."

Shuri recognized the girl as her almost-murderer from earlier.

"I don't need excuses. Just find a seat so I may continue with my class."

The girl nodded and looked for the closest vacant seat. Once seeing one she made her way to it. In her short trek, she recognized Shuri and waved to her before she sat down.

Shuri gave the lecturer her utmost attention after that and once it was time to leave she packed up her things and began her departure. However, something, or rather someone still seated at one of the desks caught her eye. It was the girl who almost killed her from this morning.

She was fast asleep. Was she even paying attention after she came in? She'll miss her next class if she kept that up. Not that it was any of Shuri's business how this girl chose to spend her time.

"Hello? Excuse me?" Shuri poked the girl which caused her to rouse.

"Class is over. You should vacate the room. Unless you have another class scheduled here?"

The girl sharply inhaled and rubbed her eyes, "Oh shit. I didn't realize I knocked out. That lecturer was so boring, talking in Times New Roman font and all that." She chuckled to herself.

Shuri didn't humor her with a laugh. Clearly she doesn't have her priorities in check if she willfully fell asleep in classes as she does.

Having enough chit-chat, Shuri walked out of the room and headed to her next class, but she heard hurried footsteps following behind her.

"My name is Riri by the way! And sorry again about this morning. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Shuri looked down at the girl, "No. I'm not dead, so we can put that whole thing behind us."

"Oh, okay. By the way, I like your accent, where is it from?"

"I'm from Wakanda." Shuri simply stated.

"That's cool! But I still feel bad about this morning. Here's what, if you have trouble with any of your school work, I can tutor you, no charge."

Shuri nearly faltered at the proposition and couldn't help the smirk that formed on her face.

'She wants to tutor me? Someone who is unable to stay conscious during a class session.'

What a laughable proposition.

"I have not seen you here before. Are you new?"

Riri haughtily rubbed her pointer finger under her nose, "Yea. I just transferred here on scholarship."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks!"

Shuri stopped at the door to her next class, "This is where we part ways. I'll see you around."

"What a coincidence!" Riri pointed at the door, "This is where my next class is!"

Shuri pushed open the door, "After you."

Riri found herself a seat and Shuri opted to find one higher up the rows. She preferred a more secluded space for optimal performance.

However, as class went on, she couldn't help but stare at Riri during the duration of the class.

She didn't take notes, she looked bored and at times she had her head on the desk, which gave the impression that she was sleeping.

Was Riri just here for attendance?

It's such a shame that a scholarship was wasted on her. Granted, she didn't know her that long but just off her disposition in class, Shuri had all she needed to know about the girl.

As the weeks progressed Riri made quite the name for herself. One, she was quite loud and rowdy. Getting into it with entitled white boys. Something about them not paying their dues.

Shuri was fairly certain it was perhaps an issue with scamming. As far as she knew, Riri charges for doing other people's assignments. But as far as she's observed the girl learns nothing in class. Having not seen her take a single note since she came here.

Hm. Well, she doesn't have to be good at the work if you think about it. She is charging them to do the assignment, it doesn't have to be correct. Shuri respected the hustle. Taking advantage of lazy students to make ends meet is one way to do things.

Hopefully Riri knew what she was doing. She had everything to lose with that scholarship and everything.

Not that Shuri particularly cared. Exams will chew the poor girl up and spit her out in due time.

Midterms rolled around soon enough and a tale as old as time, Shuri was ready for them. It just so happened that Riri and her shared almost every class she was enrolled in this semester. So they saw each other quite frequently but with very little interaction.

It wasn't that Shuri was avoiding the girl but they definitely wouldn't have anything in common so it made no sense trying to interact further. Saving herself the trouble made the most logical sense.

To Shuri's surprise, though it shouldn't, Riri was the first person to leave the room after submitting her paper. That was to be expected of someone who barely paid attention in class. She gave a mental clap for her not staying and wasting her time.

It went on like that for the rest of exams as well. Within the first hour or less, she was the first out of the room. Pity.

And yet, Riri didn't look like she had a care in the world. She joked around and carried herself with that same laid-back air about herself.

It befuddled Shuri, but as the Americans say, if Riri liked it, then she loved it.

The next week rolled around as results were finally posted from midterms.

Pushing, shoving, crowding,loud murmurs and squeaking of shoes against tile and or hard-wood floors. All tell-tale signs of students who are eager, desperate, essentially feral to find out about their academic standing.

Sighs of relief, woeful groans and the occasional hiccup leading to wails of horror wafted through Shuri's ears.

This was not new to her, nor did the reactions of her colleagues phase her. Shuri staggered sideways as a worried student fought and shoved their way to the front of the crowd in hopes of finding their name at a decent rank.

Shuri had no need to fight her way to the front row, however. Her eyes automatically zoned in on the name at the top of the list.

However, her mouth hung in shock at the name in bold font.

'Riri Williams.'

Her eyes dropped to the second rank where her name was placed, 'Shuri Udaku.'

"Impossible." Shuri licked her lips in disbelief.

"Holy crap! I'm number one here too! That's 5 outta 7. " Someone said beside her.

Shuri looked to her side and regarded Riri who had a satisfied smirk on her face.

"You were this close, huh?" She looked up at Shuri, "You're a decent rival."

Shuri's eyebrow twitched behind her shades.

This...this girl who never pays attention in class, who blusters and boasts around campus like she owns the place. Never takes notes. She bested her in academics.

Clearly the lecturers were off mentally because there was no way she topped her 5 out of 7 times.

Shuri shoved her hands into the pockets of her tracksuit and walked out of the classroom. Much to her surprise and slight annoyance, Riri was by her side.

"Bet you wished you took me up on my offer in tutoring you now." Riri boasted.

Shuri scoffed, "I don't need help with tutoring."

"Says the girl that's second to me." Riri sing-songed.

Shuri stopped and turned to Riri. She raised her sunglasses to look at her properly, "I suggest you don't get too comfortable. Luck was at your side this time around."

She didn't know why she was so agitated. Yes, actually she did know. It was because Riri beat her.

"Nah, I don't believe in luck." Riri crossed her arms, "It's all skill and brains. My offer still stands, I'll tutor you free of charge. My dorm's always open."

Shuri gave her a once over before replacing her sunglasses, "You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

She has an attitude, beauty and brains. A trifecta.

Riri shrugged, not trusting herself to answer.

A few days later, after their papers were returned, Shuri sought Riri out. Luckily it didn't take long as she was munching on a sandwich under a tree.

"I want to compare grades." Shuri demanded as she plopped herself down opposite Riri.

"Well hello to you too." Riri eyed Shuri.

"Yes hello, now let me see your papers. Quickly."

Riri rolled her eyes but did as was told. Shuri removed her shades and went over each question. Her frown deepened with each paper she compared.

Riri bested her by varying percentages. Ranging between two or point five.

Shuri threw the papers on the grass and rubbed her forehead, "And here I was thinking you were an idiot and would eventually drop out."

"Excuse me?" Riri narrowed her eyes. She really didn't want to get into it with this girl.

"I want to extend my deepest apologies for judging a book by its cover. Because you never showed an interest in class up until this point, I was under the impression you would have flunked out. But your grades say otherwise."

"Uh. Thanks. It's light work for a genius, you know?"

"So I assume you knew all the material before hand?"

Riri nodded, "Yea, I went over the syllabus before each class and brushed up on what I needed to know and just show up for attendance. It's not that hard."

"At least I was right about one thing." She stretched herself out on the grass and cradled her head in her palm.

"Don't get comfortable though. That was only a one-time thing. I had gotten complacent is all."

"If you hadn't gotten complacent then you wouldn't be so tight about me pulling the rug out from under you. That sounds like a you problem."

Shuri exhaled through her nose. She was right. She shouldn't take out her frustrations on her. Clearly she was intelligent. Riri had more depth to her than Shuri gave her credit for, so it was indeed a 'her' problem.

"You look good without your shades. I mean you look good with them on too, it's just that you look better with them off."

Shuri laughed, "Thank you. I love your straightbacks."

"Thanks." She took a bite out of her sandwich, "You know I assumed you had social anxiety or something."

"Why is that?"

"You always sat to the back of the class and with your shades on too so I assumed you don't like to make eye contact. And you don't talk to anyone. Only time you did was when I initiated a conversation with you."

Shuri nodded, "I get why you may assume that. I just tend to be in my own world and nobody approaches me. I've been told I am intimidating and that I stare a lot so I wear my shades. But it's mostly because I think I look cool with them on. Don't you think? I look mysterious and all that."

Riri braced herself against the tree and wheezed in laughter, "Because you look mysterious?!"

"And cool." She clicked her tongue, winked and waved finger guns.

"You're corny as hell, Shuri."

Shuri's mouth gaped while holding a hand over her chest, "I am not!"

Riri smiled and shrugged as Shuri gathered the papers and neated them.

"Well, I'm glad you came along, you'll make things more interesting for me, seeing that I met my match and all."

Riri gave Shuri a look, "Are we still talking about academics here?"

Shuri smoothed a hand over her undercut in contemplation, "Do you want me to be talking about something else?"

"If you wanna say something, you should say it with your chest. I don't care for beating around the bush." Riri said matter-of factly.

"Okay. Seeing that I clearly don't need your tutoring I'd like an alternative offer in you making it up to me. Since my family could have been mourning my death and all that."

"Go on." Riri encouraged.

"We should go out on a date together." Shuri looked at Riri and waited on her reaction.

"Okay, sure. We can do that." RIri grinned.

Shuri fist pumped in glee, "Good how's tomorrow after our last class?"

"Sounds good."

[tinytinyblogs]

Is it hate or love?

Hate or love? Their mixed signals are driving you crazy.

(Ot8 reaction, non-idol)

Hyung line Maknae line

Stray kids masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

The pulsing bass vibrated through your bones, a chaotic counterpoint to the unease churning within you. The crowded club, once a beacon of escape, now felt like a suffocating cage, each pulsating beat a reminder of your misplaced hope. You knew parties weren't your forte, the cacophony and forced interactions a far cry from your comfort zone. Yet, here you were, seeking solace in the din, a desperate attempt to drown out the deafening silence of your own heart. Your gaze, like a moth drawn to a flame, flickered towards Han Jisung. The object of your silent affection, the boy who'd occupied your daydreams for longer than you cared to admit. Yet, your interactions were a constant push-and-pull, a dance of unspoken tension and veiled barbs. Seeing him now, surrounded by a flock of admirers, a bitter pang of envy twisted your gut. The heady mix of alcohol and disappointment threatened to overwhelm you. Just as you contemplated escape, another voice, smooth and saccharine, intruded your thoughts. You recognized the glint in his eyes, the practiced charm masking a predatory intent. You weren't naive, you knew his game, but the thought of succumbing to the distraction, of losing yourself in the fleeting euphoria, was almost tempting. But before you could play along, a familiar hand grasped your arm, pulling you away from the potential danger.

Han Jisung stood there, his expression a storm brewing behind his usual mask of indifference. "Are you stupid?" His voice was harsh, a jarring contrast to the club's intoxicating rhythm. The question, though blunt, held a surprising edge of concern. "What now, Jisung?" you snapped back, stung by his words. "Why don't you just mind your own business?" The loud music seemed to dim around you, replaced by the intensity of his gaze. His cologne, a familiar scent, filled your senses, grounding you in the chaos. His presence, imposing yet strangely comforting, made your head spin. "He obviously doesn't have any feelings for you," he stated, his voice low but firm. "He just wants something else. Are you too blind to see that?" His words, brutal but honest, pierced through the veil of denial you'd woven around your heart. "I know, okay?" you retorted, your voice choked with frustration. You yearned to escape, to drown his interference in the cacophony of the club, but his grip on your arm held you captive. "You said you knew," he repeated, his voice low but insistent. "Yet you still walked back in." You struggled against his hold, frustration burning in your throat. "Why do you care so much, Han Jisung?" you spat, your voice raspy with emotion. "Is there some other guy here you want to protect me from? Since when did you ever care about me?" The question, hurled like a weapon, hung heavy in the air.

You expected a smirk, a barbed retort, anything but the vulnerability that flickered across his face. He stepped closer, his hand finding your shoulder, a grounding touch in the swirling chaos. "I always care," he whispered, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Who said I never do? I only came here because I heard you were coming...to a party you hate." The music, once a pulsing assault on your senses, receded into a distant echo. Your own heart, a relentless drumbeat in your chest, "I wouldn't like it," he said, his voice a low rumble, each word a hammer blow to your carefully constructed facade. "I don't like it. I hate the thought of someone else…" He paused, his eyes searching yours, the vulnerability in their depths a stark contrast to his usual mask of indifference. "I hate the thought of someone else doing you wrong." The melody of his words, stripped bare of pretense, hit you differently "Let's just go home," he continued, his voice softer now, a gentle plea in his eyes. "You shouldn't be here. You should be somewhere…comfortable. Somewhere you can wear something that makes you feel cute, not…this." He gestured towards your outfit, the once-confident fabric suddenly feeling like a flimsy shield against his scrutiny. "They're going to stare a hole through you here," he added, his voice laced with a quiet anger you hadn't known resided within him.

Felix

The air in the cramped dressing room felt thick with whispers and disapproval, a suffocating miasma that clung to your skin despite the icy blast of the air conditioner. Being a model, you were supposed to be immune to such scrutiny, your confidence honed like a diamond under pressure. Yet, here you were, feeling as small and fragile as a porcelain doll under the harsh glare of a thousand unseen eyes. Felix, your runway partner, was a study in stark contrast. Golden sunlight seemed to follow him like a halo, his chiseled features and sculpted physique the epitome of runway perfection. But to you, he was a storm cloud, his constant scowl and barely-there grunts a testament to his displeasure. You knew the whispers – how you, with your 'average' beauty, were a misstep in his flawless stride, a blemish on his pristine reputation. It stung, even though you hadn't begged for this partnership. You finished your makeup with a trembling hand, the image of Felix's laser-like gaze burning into your memory. From the moment you'd entered the room, his eyes had been fixed on you, a silent accusation hanging in the air. Now, with the call of the staff to cancel the show due to 'unfavorable audience reactions,' you felt a surge of defiance. This was your moment, your chance to break free from the suffocating expectations and malicious whispers.

But then, a voice like warm thunder sliced through the room. It was Felix, his usual monotone replaced by a fiery intensity. "Why do you think I want to cancel all of this?" he roared, his eyes blazing with a newfound determination. "I don't want to cancel. I don't want to change my partner." The room fell silent, the whispers replaced by a stunned gasp. Felix, the epitome of aloof perfection, was standing up for you, defying the invisible hand of public opinion. The air crackled with disbelief, a tangible shockwave emanating from Felix's pronouncement. "It's Y/N or no one," his voice boomed, shattering the suffocating silence of the cramped dressing room. It was a declaration, a defiant strike against the whispers and doubts that had been swirling around you like a noxious cloud. Every eye in the room turned to you, then back to Felix, their faces a mask of stunned surprise. "Stop talking bad about Y/N," he commanded, his voice a low growl that resonated in the room like a tuning fork. "This person is a perfect model, always shining in every shoot. Just do your job and promote us properly like how you guys need to do." He, the golden god of the runway, the one who'd perfected the art of icy indifference, was standing before you, his hand resting nonchalantly in his pocket.

"It's weird hearing you say that," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You've always seemed...irrational, at best, with me." Felix chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine despite its familiarity. He looked away for a moment, his gaze flitting to his shoes, then back to you, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. "No one else gets to talk bad about you," he muttered, his voice husky with an unfamiliar emotion. "Only me." His words, though laced with playful possessiveness, held a surprising tenderness. You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, a fragile flame flickering to life amidst the ashes of doubt. In that moment, the room seemed to shrink, the throng of people fading into the periphery. It was just you and him, two souls adrift in a sea of stunned silence. "Besides," he continued, his gaze drifting to the wall clock, "you really are the best model I've ever seen. No one could say anything like that about you. You deserve better. Don't let them define you." He took your hand, his touch a spark that ignited a fire within you. "Be ready for the shoot," he murmured, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Then, let's get lunch together. My treat."

Seungmin

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with unshed tears and Seungmin's blunt words. Each sob felt like a jagged piece of your heart breaking away, the sting of betrayal raw and bitter on your tongue. Seungmin's voice dripped with disdain as he sipped his tea, his every word a barbed arrow aimed at your heartbreak. "Stupidity," he scoffed, "believing someone like him. Crying for a man who wouldn't even blink if you vanished tomorrow." He placed the cup down with a clatter, a harsh counterpoint to your choked sobs. "Shut up, Seungmin!" you spat, the tears burning your cheeks. "If you're just here to twist the knife, then get out." He rolled his eyes, the familiar sass laced with a cold fury. "Always the drama queen," he drawled, snatching the remote and blasting the TV. "Wasting your tears on someone who doesn't deserve them, on someone who's already forgotten your name. What could be a bigger waste?" You scrubbed your face raw with your sleeve, sobs wracking your body. "So who should I waste them on then? Someone like you, who relishes in my pain?" The air crackled with unspoken emotions as Seungmin sat glued to the screen, a vacant stare masking any flicker of attention to the flickering images.

His words, a barbed whisper, cut through the silence, "No, if I could be him, I wouldn't make you cry." Your sobs, raw and echoing, painted a stark contrast to his stoicism. Tears traced red streaks down your cheeks, your eyes catching his, searching for a hint of the warmth that usually resided behind his gaze. "Because I'm not as stupid as him," he continued, his voice a low rumble, "to fail someone I wanted to be with." His words were a bombshell, sending ripples through your tear-streaked world. You had never witnessed this vulnerability from him, accustomed only to the mask of annoyance he wore as your roommate. Silence stretched, thick and heavy, as you processed the unexpected confession. "Are you insane, Seungmin?" you choked out, disbelief lacing your voice, "You're talking nonsense." You reached for the cup of tea he had placed beside you, its warmth a small comfort against the storm within. His gaze, heavy and unwavering, remained fixed on you, a silent interrogation. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I must be out of my mind to feel this way." His words hung in the air, a fragile admission of a truth he could no longer deny.

The remote clattered onto the sofa, a jarring contrast to the soft murmur of the TV. You winced at the unexpected sound, but his next words were far more startling. "You're right," he said, his voice rough but strangely tender. "I'm glad you're not with him anymore." He still didn't look at you, his gaze fixed on some unseen point across the room. "It means...maybe I have a chance." Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes meeting yours. The sight of your tear-streaked face, though, seemed to freeze him. The air crackled between you and Seungmin, electric with the sting of miscommunication and hurt. Your voice, raw from denial, rasped out, "This is not the time for your stupid jokes, Kim Seungmin." It was a desperate attempt to shield yourself, to find some semblance of logic in the chaos, because Seungmin, the one who usually held your world together, was suddenly a stranger offering hollow words. "You always refuse to see me," he sighed, his voice low, a tremor of vulnerability beneath the surface. "Maybe I'm not your ideal, the knight in shining armor you dream about. But can't you, even for a moment, look at me differently? The way you look at everyone else, with that open heart and curious eyes?"

Jeongin

The air crackled around you, thick with disbelief and a sudden, unexpected twist. Prom night, the culmination of a thousand whispered fantasies, had always seemed a distant galaxy, something you dreamt of but never truly expected to touch. Yet, here it was, manifesting in the form of a nervous, stumbling classmate, his voice tripping over words as he extended an invitation tinged with hope. Before your mind could catch up, a familiar scent invaded your senses, a grounding presence against the swirling confusion. Jeongin, your ever-present shadow, materialized beside you, his hand a warm anchor on your shoulder. His voice, usually a playful rasp, held a steely edge as he spoke, cutting through the awkward tableau. "I'm sorry, my dear friend," he said, his gaze unwavering as it pierced through the boy in front of you, "but this y/n is going to prom with me." The world tilted on its axis. Your breath caught in your throat, a kaleidoscope of emotions warring within you. A pang of sympathy for the retreating boy, his disappointment etched on his back, mingled with the spark of defiance ignited by Jeongin's audacity. "What the hell is going on in your head, Yang Jeongin?" you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Hello to you too," he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, even as you attempted to shove his hand off your shoulder. The gesture, though meant to be firm, felt oddly futile against his unwavering presence.

"Can you just let me breathe freely for one day, Jeongin?" you pleaded, your voice laced with exasperation. He hummed, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine despite its seeming nonchalance. Leaning back against the locker beside you, he folded his arms across his chest, a picture of infuriating serenity. "I can't," he replied, his voice a smooth whisper that seemed to burrow directly into your ear. You slammed your locker shut with a resounding bang, the metallic clanging a poor excuse for the thunderous roar in your own head. The deliberate act blocked his view, a flimsy shield against the storm brewing inside you. As you rifled through your belongings, stuffing textbooks and notebooks into their designated slots, Jeongin's nonchalant presence loomed large. "So, you really wanted to see me go to prom by myself, huh?" you spat, the words tumbling out like bitter fruit. "Is that your idea of a good time? Watching me wallow in my own social awkwardness?" You slammed your locker shut, the metal echoing in the quiet hallway like a thunderclap. Your gaze finally met Jeongin's, and the unexplainable expression clouding his face made your heart stutter. "Do you really hate me that much?" your voice came out raw, each word a shard of doubt scraping against your throat.

He took a step closer, his body blocking your path, creating a silent barrier between you and the anonymous freedom of the hallway. "I never said I wanted you to go to prom alone," his voice deepened, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I wanted to be the one walking beside you, the one you laughed with under the disco ball. The one who gets to see that dazzling smile reserved for no one else." He paused, his hand resting in his pocket, a nervous habit you knew all too well. "And who said I hate you? It's not even in my vocabulary, okay? Stop with these scenarios you keep conjuring up. Just accept the fate you're stuck with – me. I'm not letting you go to prom with anyone else, and that's final." The shrill cry of the school bell pierced the air, shattering the fragile bubble you'd woven around yourself and Jeongin. His smirk widened, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he took in your flustered expression. It was a sight he relished, the way your cheeks flushed a delicate pink, your brows furrowed in a picture of adorable confusion. "Lost in your daydreams again, pretty?" he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "If you don't want to be late for class, it might be a good idea to trade that frown for a sprint."

©Tinytinyblogs

[hikaritakaishi]

Takari Week 2024 - Day 1: First Summer

Dias: [ 1 ] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Title: Mnemosyne [Prologue I] (First Summer)

Characters: Takeru Takaishi

Summary: The world performs in mysterious and strange ways. He didn't even understand the meaning of destiny at that time, but in the subsequent years he was grateful for every force in the universe that had made them reach that place together. Right when they needed each other the most.

Note: A collection of stories that gives us an insight into Takeru and Hikari's relationship over the years. It was really hard to put all the prompts explicitly in the story, so I tried to metaphorize some of them, in order for them to make sense at the end.

It is composed of two prologues, one for Takeru and one for Hikari, exposing events before 1999. And a final epilogue, summarizing all the feelings exposed in the previous chapters. In the intermediate chapters, we follow all the challenges that a long-term friendship has to face when it becomes a romantic relationship, and how we form solid and permanent bonds with the ones we love the most.

・。。・゜゜・。。・

His little hand gripped the pencil tightly. He didn't know what to write. In front of him, a piece of paper with the word family written in computer letter on top. And nothing more.

He couldn't think of anything good enough to write. His restless legs gently tapped the floor, again and again, impatiently.

In his poor understanding of his own emotions, he felt frustrated. Confused to say the least. Maybe a little scared even.

He just wanted to get away from there.

Not exactly going home, because home felt a little bit empty now. He didn't want to be alone, either. He felt alone most of the time lately. Even though he had friends at school, he knew they didn't understand what he was going through. And didn't want to talk about it. Despite all his mother's efforts to play it normally, he knew that even for her, it was a complicated situation to live with and to adapt. Everything was different, and there were no expectations of change.

"Why don't you write something about your mom or dad? "

Said the boy seated next to him, noticing the blank page in front of Takeru. "They are your family, aren't they?"

"I never saw your father, Takeru, is he alive?" 

Asked the girl who was sitting in the desk right behind him, trying to have a glimpse of his schoolwork. That statement was something that came naturally, unconsciously, that little girl did not think about what she said.

"Ah..."

His voice sounded insecure and lower than usual. He tightened his grip on the pencil even more. His little feet began to circle under the table.

"He just... doesn't live in the same... house, as me and my mom..."

"Is it just you and your mom?" Continued the girl. "That must be fell... lonely."

"Sometimes...But I know my mom loves me."

"Write that then!"

He couldn't.

He couldn't write that he felt alone in a text about his family that his mother could eventually read. The teacher would be uneased. And she would question him about that. And he didn't want to talk about it.

"I am writing about my brother and my sister!" The boy broke the brief silence that came upon them. "They are my heroes!"

The boy's tone of voice created a certain envy within Takeru's heart.

Yamato.

He missed his brother. They hadn't spoken in a few days, and he was afraid to ask to call again. He didn't want to be annoying or bother anyone. But what if Yamato forgets about him?

"It must be horrible to be an only child, right?"

He didn't know. Because he was not, an only child. But somehow, it felt horrible that it seemed like it for other people. Almost embarrassing.

What kind of siblings live apart?

And why couldn't he have a normal family?

Why did his parents have to hate each other?

He felt his head start spinning.

Slowly, placed the pencil on the table and raised his hand. His heart was beating hard, he felt like it would burst at any moment. He held back his tears until the teacher finally noticed his presence.

"Is everything ok, Takeru?"

"I just... need to go to the bathroom!"

"Oh... ok. "The teacher seemed surprised at first but then smiled. "You can go, but don't take too long!"

"Thank you..."

He left the classroom in complete silence, while he heard his classmates' pencils tapping on the table, and small, almost inaudible conversations going on in the back of the class. Were they talking about him? It didn't matter, he just wanted to get out of there for a few moments.

He walked to the end of the hallway and went down the stairs. The bathrooms were on the first floor, and he had classes on the second.

He started running when he reached the first floor straight to the bathrooms, noticing that no one was aroud.

Entering, Takeru closed the door softly so no one could hear him. He then sat in one humid and cold corner and hugged his legs. Lowered his head and rested it on his knees. Sighed. He could cry without anyone seeing him.

・。。・゜゜・。。・

You can also find it in: Fanfiction.net & Wattpad

[superficialdomina]

Missed connection

A/N: I wrote a little Tom fic while my next sub!Loki marinates a bit. It's angsty and a little fluffy and totally self-indulgent.

Inspired in part by @dangertoozmanykids101 and this post. I hope that's OK with her :)

Summary: Stuck in a train carriage in Italy with Tom. Angst ensues.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: Very light, thirsty smut. Stay tuned for part 2 if you want the filth.

Two Three parts - but if you like where they end up after the first one you can totally leave it here.

Part 1

You sigh, closing your book and gazing out the window of the unmoving train into the night. You should have arrived in Padua before dusk, but your train out of Venice had ground to a halt several hours ago without explanation, and had sat here, with frustrating stubbornness, in the growing darkness. 

You stretch your neck, looking around you. Your train carriage is mostly empty, and the few other passengers appear to be asleep. You envy them. It had taken several long flights to arrive in Italy, and to be trapped here on this final leg, so close to your destination, with zero information, is… infuriating.

A movement catches your eye as a tall man enters from an adjoining carriage. He moves slowly between the seats, past the sleeping occupants. You avert your eyes and pretend to concentrate on your lap, your innate introversion kicking in and insisting you avoid a conversation with a stranger. 

"Mi scusi?" 

Startled, you look up, meeting his eyes and taking in his face. Gosh, you think, surprised, he's very pretty. And... Familiar? 

"Hai un cellulare da prestarmi?"

"Non parlo Italiano," you stammer out - one of the few Italian phrases you'd learnt in preparation for your trip. "Do you speak English?"

"Oh," he smiles, blushing charmingly. "Of course. I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but - would you have a mobile phone that I could borrow?"

As soon as he switches to English, recognition washes over you like a flood. To see him out of context like this was terrifically confusing - but that voice… It was unmistakable. You’re momentarily unable to speak.

"I… my phone battery is flat," he continues, misconstruing your long pause. "May I - would you mind if I sent a message to someone?"

"Of course," you manage, as you pull your phone out from your bag. His face relaxes in relief and gratitude as he takes it from you. 

His hands, you think as you try to surreptitiously watch his nimble fingers tap the screen. By all that is holy, his HANDS. As though he heard you, he lifts his left hand to nervously run it back through his loose curls, while continuing to text with his other thumb. 

Maybe I'm dreaming, you think cautiously. I fell asleep on the train and I'm… You pinch your leg. Nope. Hurts.

"Thank you," he says with a long exhale, looking down at you and handing back your phone. "I wasn't expecting to be stuck here…"

You can't help laughing. "Me neither, obviously," you smile. He smiles back, his beautiful lips parting slightly to give you a glimpse of his perfect teeth. 

"Well - thank you," he says again, turning to move back the way he had come. 

"Ah -" you begin, slightly confused. "What if - I mean, should you wait for them to reply?" You try to keep your voice low for the sake of the other occupants of the carriage in their happy slumber. 

His eyes run over the book in your lap, where your small clip-on reading lamp is casting odd shadows. 

"I'd hate to interrupt you further," he says, the question clear in his tone.

"Uh - it would be nice to have the company," you lie. As if that was ever true. Although this time… He narrows his eyes at you briefly; without thinking, you extend your hand. "I'm y/n."

He bites his lower lip, making your stomach flutter. And not just your stomach, if you're honest. But he takes your hand and shakes it. "Tom," he says simply.

You swallow hard at the feel of his long fingers grasping your palm and brushing your wrist. He thinks I don't recognise him. 

"I - I know who you are," you laugh uncomfortably, unable to hold his gaze as he takes the seat opposite you, his thick thighs spread wide. Invitingly.

"Oh," he says again. And again with that subtle blush. Is he doing that on cue? "Well - it's nice to meet you, y/n."

There's a brief, thoroughly awkward silence, before he expertly transitions to well-practised small talk. “You’re clearly not Italian,” he says, mocking his earlier language faux pas. "How is it that you find yourself on an immobile train in the Italian countryside?"

You exhale, suddenly aware that you'd been holding your breath. Don’t look directly at him. "I'm here for a conference," you reply, making eye contact with his forehead and speaking a little too fast. “In Padua. I just flew into Venice from Toronto this afternoon.” You want to ask him why he’s here - alone? - but it feels too personal. Don’t interview the poor man.

“Toronto?” He asks. “You don’t sound Canadian, either.” Gods above, his face is so… expressive. He blinks slowly and you catch his glorious eyelashes as they flit against his skin. His broad chest expands with every inhale, straining against his tight, white shirt. 

“Oh- no, I’m Australian,” Christ, could you stop sounding so fucking flustered? “But I live in Canada.” He pauses as though waiting for you to continue, even though you were sure you’d finished talking. “Just for the last few years. For work.” He sounds so… Interested. As though the inane nonsense that is inarticulately gushing from your mouth is all he wants to hear. Gosh, he really is charming. What a strange super power. Why am I still talking?

“What do you-” he begins, but he is interrupted by the ping of your phone.

“That must be for you,” you murmur, scrambling to pick it up. “Oh - no, sorry, just my husband.” A shadow crosses his face fleetingly. Keen to get a reply and get back to his seat, you think. 

You flick a quick text back to your spouse. Still on the train - no movement. Nothing eventful. Well, that was a big fat lie, you muse to yourself, glancing at the stunning man sitting opposite you.

“You’re married?” he asks, as you return your phone to your bag. 

“I - yes,” you reply, absently touching the wedding ring on your finger and trying not to think about the long years since your husband had made your body ache like the man sitting before you. A man who had barely even touched you. 

“Do you like it?” He asks. You are momentarily confused. “Canada, I mean?” 

“Yes. Sometimes. Mostly.” You take a deep breath, once again aware of the arousal he is stirring in you. Make sentences. “I miss home often.” Another awkward pause that you fight to fill, trying not to stare at his long Greek nose or the shadows cast by his ridiculous cheekbones. “They all think I’m British - Canadians, I mean,” you continue, hating yourself for the banality of your small talk. “They all ask me what part of England I’m from. I tell them ‘the very far south’.”

He laughs at that, throwing his head back and issuing a throaty expression of mirth that makes you quiver between your legs. Are… are my pants damp? You wonder silently, both quietly horrified and mildly interested at your body’s reaction to the close proximity of this beautiful man, and the inexplicable circumstances that have led you here.

“Well, you don’t exactly sound like Steve Irwin,” he laughs, eyes glittering in the low light.

“And you don’t sound like Eliza Doolittle,” you quip, before bringing your hand to cover your mouth, mortified. 

“I’m so sorry. I - I’m lousy at small talk. And I’m… A little awed to be speaking to you.” Ugh. Gushing. How unattractive.

But he continues to smile that dazzling smile that touches his lovely eyes so easily. “It’s quite alright,” he says gently. “Most people are.” The words are arrogant, but his tone suggests something altogether different. Is he… Uncomfortable?

He looks briefly out the window into the darkness. Stars have materialised in the inky sky. 

“Skip the small talk, then,” he offers, turning back to face you, voice deep and sultry, eyes piercing and intense. You press your thighs together to relieve the growing tension between them. No question now - you were wet with arousal. “Tell me something… Substantial.” He shifts in his seat and you try desperately not to look at his crotch. Just don’t stand up before he leaves, you tell yourself. His eyes slide to the book next to you. “What are you reading?” 

You also glance at the book on your seat, remembering where you had been mere minutes prior, in that previous life before Tom had first spoken to you. It’s telling that he considers that a substantial question, you think. You swallow. “Ah - War Lord by Bernard Cornwell,” you say, picking it up.

“Are you enjoying it?” 

“I - not really,” you admit, passing your eyes over the cover. Once again, his face encourages you to keep talking. “It’s the last in a long series. I was probably done with them a while ago but - it’s hard not to finish something you’ve come so far with...” You’ve run out of words again, and he’s still watching you…

You awkwardly clear your throat. “What are you reading?”

He laughs and reaches his hand into a large inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a simple, slightly battered-looking book. 

 “The Dispossessed,” he replies, his eyes sparkling, “by Ursula Le Guin.” His middle finger strokes the spine lovingly. “It’s beautiful. I read it every few years,” he confesses. “It’s a commentary on materialism and capitalism… and it’s also a thought piece about time - time as a product of mathematics and physics but also philosophy and ethics. But mostly,” he finally pauses for breath, “it’s a love story. Love that transcends space and time-”

“I’ve read it,” you interrupt him, and can’t help laughing at the sheer boyish joy that has come over his face as he spoke. “I - it’s one of my favourites, too.” 

The wide, open-mouthed smile he gives you then transforms his entire face, and you suddenly feel that it is the first genuine expression he has given you. What just happened?

“Really?” He is suddenly abuzz with little-boy energy. Puppy energy. “I don’t meet many people who have read it. It’s a seriously underrated Le Guin book.”

“Yes!” you agree heartily. “She’s so renowned for the Earthsea chronicles but… The Dispossessed is so complex and… beautiful. And yes, a truly touching love story. Did you know that Shevek is modelled on Oppenheimer?” 

“I had heard that, but he always made me think of Feynman.”

“Me too!” You laugh enthusiastically, before remembering your sleeping companions and lowering your voice again. “It has, I think, my favourite line ever written.” He raises his eyebrows. You quote, “You can go home again, so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been.”

“That’s your favourite line ever written?”

“Yes!” you say again, mildly embarrassed. “It’s… it’s…” You search for the words, forcing yourself to form logical sentences again. “We believe that time is something real, that life is what’s happening outside ourselves. But time - life - is within us.” You lean forward in your seat, willing him to understand your point. “You know - you can’t step twice in the same river, because neither you nor the river are the same. Live now, because you won’t be here again.”

He nods. “We all get two lives, and the second life begins when we realise we only get one.”

You exhale, suddenly aware of the thrill that is coursing through your body. Careful, you tell yourself, then chastise yourself for such a foolish notion. But this one might hurt when you land. “Yes. Exactly.”

“I also have a favourite line in it,” he offers, hesitantly. “Maybe not ever written,” he teases you gently, “but���” 

With surprise, you watch him open the book still in his hands to a dog-eared page. He reads. “If you can see a thing whole, it seems that it's always beautiful. Planets, lives. But close up, a world's all dirt and rocks. The way to see how beautiful the Earth is, is to see it from the moon.” 

He looks up at you expectantly, his whole energy shifted, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as though waiting for your approval. But you are momentarily stunned. He’s… Sad. 

“Is that…” You stop, knowing that your question is far too personal, but unsure if you can carry on the conversation without asking it. You’ll never be here again, you remind yourself, and stumble on. “Is that how you feel? All… Dirt and rocks?”

He gazes back at you, his smile touched with a hint of melancholy. “Sometimes. I wonder if my life is more beautiful from a distance than from the inside.” 

You consider your words carefully before we speak. “Don’t we all feel that way? Our lives are more perfect, more interesting, on paper, than they are in reality? Only the people closest to us see how messy we really are. Maybe no one knows us as well as ourselves.”

“Maybe,” he sighs. “I often have to remind myself that this is the life I chose, not the life that chose me.” You stare at him, astonished not only by the words he is saying, but by the brazen honesty of what he is sharing, and by the full 180 degree shift in his mood in the last few moments. Volatile. 

“Anyway,” he smiles, almost convincingly, as if to say, that’s enough self pity. “Your turn. Marriage? How is it?”

The question takes you thoroughly by surprise. “M… Marriage?” He doesn’t speak, but raises his eyebrows as he continues to look at you with that unusual intensity… It is strangely intimate. “That doesn’t really seem like a fair question when I’m staring at Tom Hiddleston sitting opposite me.” You groan inwardly, wishing you hadn’t said it aloud. 

He chuckles. “Close your eyes, then.” 

You stare at him open-mouthed for a second, the simple suggestion ringing through your ears like a command. Your core clenches and you feel the slick in your panties practically gushing down your inner thighs. You swallow hard.

But to be fair to your husband, you do as he suggests. You immediately feel incredibly exposed. “It’s…” You pause, thinking; remembering. “You know when you take a long drive, and somewhere in between towns the radio signal drops out, and there’s nothing but static?” To your surprise, words begin to pour out of you, some kind of overflow triggered by the unexpected vulnerability. “And there’s nothing you can do but keep driving, and trust that you’ll get signal again when you reach the next town?”

You open your eyes again. He has leaned forwards towards you, elbows resting on his spread thighs. His eyebrows knit gently, and he cocks his head slightly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Well… sometimes it’s like that,” you finish lamely, embarrassed at your familiarity with him. 

His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick his lips as he continues to gaze at you with his now familiar, interested intensity. “But you do trust it? That you’ll find the signal again?”

“Mostly, yes,” you reply quietly, meeting his eyes properly as a tingly powerlessness comes over your own body. Breathe, you concentrate, acutely aware of how close he is.

In the next second, two things happen simultaneously. With a sudden jolt, the train rumbles to life and begins to move again, light in the carriage flickering as power is briefly redistributed to the engine. You both gasp in surprise at the unexpected movement.

When your eyes meet again, the spell is broken.

In the same moment, your phone pings a second time. You pull it out, handing it to him when you don’t recognise the number. He swallows, a muscle in his jaw quivering. He takes the phone, smiling stiffly and nodding mechanically as he reads the message; he taps a short reply, then deletes the thread. 

He stands as he hands it back to you. “I think we are not far from your destination,” he smiles, abruptly as poised and controlled as when he had first entered the carriage. The suddenness of the transition from friend to stranger leaves you feeling disoriented. “Thank you for your company, y/n. It’s been a pleasure.” 

You take a breath and lift your chin. “Likewise,” you smile. He nods to you before turning away, and doesn’t look back as he leaves the carriage.

Damn, you think. I didn’t even ask where he's going.

Continued in Part 2

Hope y'all don't mind the tags.

@lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peaches1958 @chantsdemarins @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vbecker10 @currish-rosewolfe @muddyorbsblr @so-easy-to-love-me @villainousshakespeare @caffiend-queen @peachyjinx @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @simplyholl @mochie85 @lokischambermaid @cheekyscamp @sarahscribbles @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbs @lovelysizzlingbluebird

[iloveyou-writers]

Hi! I'm sorry this ended up longer than I intended to. I really needed to let it out, and I hope you can share some wisdom with me.

I am feeling hopeless about my writing today. Lately I've been fighting with thoughts about how I'm not getting better, and some jealousy completely pushed me to the edge.

For the past couple of months, I've been working on one of the biggest fanfic projects of mine. Normally I don't read on a fandom if I'm actively working for it, exactly because then I compare my writing to others', but since this is taking more time than my other stuff, I allowed myself to take a look today. I immediately found a story that I haven't seen before, and I was exited the whole time! It was great, and have me so much joy.

At first I was full of admiration towards the writer, and inspired to continue woekint on my own story. It was one of the best things I've ever read, and I immediately sat down to write a comment. Then something clicked. My story can't compare to this. The topics are so much different, but the way they write the characters, dialogues, everything, it's so much better.

I tried to tell myself I'm going to get better, but I just hate that despite having great ideas, the finished work will never live up to stories such as the one I read today. Because even though I know I've gotten better in the many years I've been writing, I never had any work I'm proud of, or one that fit the idea I started with. That what makes me feel the most hopeless.

This broke my heart, so I don't want to ignore it, even though I'm "technically" retired from tumblr.

I do want to offer my utmost respect to you for giving yourself boundaries due to knowing yourself well enough to acknowledge that you have an issue with envy.

It is so healthy that you try to work with what you know your attitude tends to be and that you set a boundary for yourself not to read fanfic while you're writing. It isn't that you're not allowed to ever read it, but while you're writing in the fandom. That's great. That's wonderful. I'm proud of you for that.

It can be really easy to fall into the hole of "I'm never going to be good enough." You read something and you can be so amazed by others. I'll bet, though, that if you wrote the exact story you just read, you would likely feel differently about it. Why? Because we artists are HARD on ourselves. It really is true when they say that artists are our own worst critics. We judge every word, every movement our characters make. Why? Because we know the story we're trying to tell. We know what we envisioned when we started typing.

To us, we're comparing our writing to what we wanted it to be.

Readers? Yeah, they can have expectations or hopes for writing, but they ultimately didn't know what we were envisioning while we wrote it. They only know what they read. So they see it with fresh eyes and they see it for what it is, not for what it was supposed to be.

So it's really easy for readers to see the amazing aspects of a writer's work when a writer might only see what they did wrong or what they had to change in order to make the story work.

It's still the same incredible piece. It's still wonderful and I'll bet you're a much better writer than you feel like you are. 💗🫂

Maybe take a step back. Maybe take a few days off, so that the feeling of being "worse" isn't so fresh. Maybe do something else or work on a totally different story. Busy your mind so it isn't focused on what you feel you're not doing right.

No one's perfect. I guarantee the writer that made the story you read is nitpicking the things they wish they didn't have to change or that they feel they could have worded better.

So cut yourself slack. Remember to love your writing, to love where you're at. Writing is a journey. It isn't about getting to the destination. It's about enjoying the ride there. :) You'll get there, just remember to appreciate your writing for what it is now. And one day, you'll be where you want to be. Just keep working at it and loving yourself and your work.

Thank you for reaching out and I really, really hope you find comfort in this response.

Happy writing, my dear nonnie. 💗 I'm wishing nothing but happiness and pride in your work.

~Hannah

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 23

WARNINGS: none

You walk back to your dormitory in a daze. You are half convinced that what just happened minutes ago back up in the twins' dormitory was a dream (you've had many dreams about the Weasley twins, so another one wouldn't be uncommon). But... no. It was all too real to be a dream. You recall the glorious feeling of being held by George, his arms around you, his lips on yours...

You begin to smile at the memory, but quickly stop yourself. You want to be happy about your wonderful time spent with George, and yet, some part of you can't help but feel that it's all wrong.

"What about Fred?" you had said, and George had appeared completely unbothered by your expression of feeling torn between him and his brother. Wouldn't a man naturally become jealous if he found out that the woman he admired — even if she had the same feelings for him — had feelings for another man, let alone his brother? When it was revealed to you that Fred had been a witness of yours and George's moment, Fred had acted the same. He had even congratulated his twin brother, as if having absolutely no romantic feelings towards you. And then Fred proceeded to flirt with you in the most simple, yet effective way possible right in front of George. Neither of the twins were even a little bit jealous of or upset over the other, and you find it utterly puzzling. Was it possible that (as devilish as the thought was in your wondering mind) the twins had made some sort of agreement, whether it be unspoken or written down on a piece of parchment, to... share you?

For a moment you are so distracted that you're almost caught by a prefect who marches up and down the next hallway. You dash into the shelter of a nearby doorway until it is safe for you to continue.

Fred and George are identical twins, so they tend share a lot of things: clothes, school supplies, good looks... but girlfriends? (Is it even safe to say that you are at the "girlfriend level" with either of the twins, even after pushing past your original limits with George tonight? You've certainly been spending a lot of time with Fred and George over the past few months, and you feel this kind of specialness with them that you've never felt before...) You try to remember if you ever saw or heard about Fred or George with a girlfriend before you officially met them. You know they each had their own individual dates to the Yule Ball last year, but you haven't seen those girls with the twins since.

You sigh as you finally reach the Slytherin common room entrance. You're tired and overwhelmed by everything that has happened, so you push it all to the back of your mind for now. You don't particularly enjoy imagining the twins being with other girls anyway.

You open the door to your dorm to find Maddy in the middle of changing into her pajamas. She makes brief eye contact with you before you politely look away.

You go to pull your trunk out from under your bed and take out your own night clothes to change into. You face your bed and, as you begin to undress, Maddy's low voice interrupts the quiet of the night.

"He talks about you."

You freeze momentarily, wondering at first who in the world she could be referring to, until it dawns on you. Malfoy. The only guy she would ever give a second thought to now. Of course he talks about you. He hates you for wounding his ego, and Malfoy talks an awful lot about the things that he hates. You continue changing.

Maddy goes on as you unbutton your shirt. "Draco doesn't really like me. I wish he did, but he likes you."

The silence that follows is uncomfortable. Maddy has caught you off guard. You expected her to say, if anything, something rude or haughty. But her words are sad, with a touch of envy.

"I'm sure he'd still have you," Maddy sighs. "I'll step out of your way without a fight if you change your mind." It sounds strangely like an offer.

What? Even after all these months you've seen Malfoy and Maddy together, you still can't wrap your head around it. The long time during which you and Maddy were good friends, you'd both easily agreed that Malfoy was, in a nutshell, a rotten person whom neither of you would want anything to do with ever. Now, Maddy talks like he's a good opportunity in the dating field!

You surprise yourself by laughing harshly. "I wouldn't even consider going out with Malfoy if we were the last two people on earth!"

Maddy doesn't respond immediately. You step into your pants, close your trunk, slide it back under the bed, and crawl into bed under the covers.

"You don't understand," Maddy eventually says quietly. "I'm trying to help you, giving you a second chance because he's too scared or whatever to do it himself—"

"Well, I don't want a second chance!" you interrupt, rolling over on your side to finally look at Maddy. She's already facing you. "I don't like Malfoy."

Maddy's expression is an impatient grimace. "Yes, I am very aware of that," she says quickly. "But..." She desperately searches for the right words to say. "I've been hearing things... Something is coming." Your face softens with confusion. Maddy also seems to relax now that she really has your attention. "I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I think there are going to be two sides to it, and at the end of the day..." She takes in a deep breath, then exhales, "I want you to be on my side."

You take a long moment to let her words sink in. Two sides? To what? Maddy makes whatever it is sound big. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach as you realizes that she may be referring to what the Ministry has been fearing since last school year. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named really is back... no doubt, there would be a war at some point. A war between You-Know- Who's army and... everyone else. You sit up on the edge of your bed, chewing on the inside of your cheek nervously. "And what side is that?" you ask.

"The one that is going to win," Maddy replies firmly without hesitation. The way she says it makes your heart beat faster with anxiety. "And I know that the Malfoy family will be on that side," Maddy continues, growing excited. "I believe that, if you build a good relationship with the Malfoy family through Draco, you can redeem yourself and be saved!" You shake your head, struggling to make sense of what she's telling you. She must've seen the gesture as a protest because the excitement on her face dies away suddenly. "People are going to die, y/n," she says morbidly. "And I don't want you to be one of them." You're speechless. It's been so long since you've heard Maddy say your name.

Then you begin to wonder if Malfoy put her up to this, if he truly does fancy you that is. She's basically become another one of his cronies and may not care for you as much as she says she does. Maybe she's only following orders. You consider accusing her of it, but decide it wouldn't be a smart move. She seems so genuine, you could be wrong. Maybe you really can get your friend back! But, then again, she's a Slytherin. She could just as well be lying to you.

"What about doing what's right?" you say, staring her in the eye. "What if I'd rather die fighting for what's right than live on ashamed and regretful for the rest of my life?"

Maddy's face contorts into an angry scowl, and she gets to her feet. She walks to the middle of the room and starts pacing, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. It's like she wants to argue with you, but there's also a quarrel within herself. She doesn't know what she wants. Either that, or she does and something is keeping her from having it. When Maddy turns to face you once more, she has tears in her eyes.

Maddy's voice shakes, and it breaks your heart. "Please, y/n. Come with me," she begs, but she seems to already know how you'll answer.

"I'm sorry," you whisper as you, too, start to tear up. "I can't." You lay back down on your side facing the wall. It's your way of saying that the conversation is over, but, as the tears roll down your face and onto your pillow, you know that you'll be thinking about it for a very, very long time.

[gildeddlily]

we stan adam (paul bby what are you doing)[about to make this a series]

again with this. about to die because of them (chuuya looks so young in every Stormbringer art I'm crying)

(1. We Stan The Flags)

2. We stan Adam (Paul bby what are you doing)

he comes out of nowhere and pull out this (they were about to kill him and he was like "oh wow you're kinda mean I expected a better welcome")

ADAM STOP the first time I read stormbringer I fell in love with him right here. like the first thing he said I already was head over heels for this beautiful robot (people who don't like Adam scares me. he's so precious. the perfect assistant, fighter and comic relief)

chuuya's so hilarious- he's about to become one of the strongest character of the bsd universe and an european guy he doesn't know crash his mafia birthday party and ignores the attacks of some of the strongest people he knows, and then said guy proceeds to say that he's here to protect chuuya and kneels before him? (I'm already hearing chuuya's voice actor. it's a dream but let me indulge myself)

(me talking to my sister cause I'm a dumbass) yes I already said that, the flags' bond and interactions are so familiar it's making me cry. Albatross is the classic dumb cousin or little brother that deep down is smarter than you but incapable of doing basic things, and Lippmann the successful third-grade-cousin everybody hates cause he gave them inferiority complex (Iceman neutral chaotic forever)

Chuuya's the king of emotional constipation, and they love seeing him express his feelings (they've welcome him in their group and dynamic, and truly cherish him and wish the best for him. they're so honest it hurts) (everybody ab this thing hurts) (I just know that at least once they gang up against him and started showering him with compliments and he almost cried and they were flabbergasted)

HELLO WHAT IS THIS Doc is literally so me guys (yk the voice) wish I was Chuuya rn (not really considering what's about to happen) (but still)

yeah cause Chuuya near him is like a cat hissing at a horse. I can understand Adam for holding him like and Amazon pack, not for saying to a teenage boy's face that he was short but for the rest ofc (he has his programs and he knows what to do but not really and it's so cute) (Chuuya after a year still wishing for his so wished growth spurt is sad) (but I just know that he doesn't care about it, at least not really. he could still smash someone's face with his pinky finger)

Yes Adam it was (I wish for our society to be ruled by robots too) (imagine Adam being your prime minister. maybe someone explains to him social clues) (Chuuya's so confused) (random robot guy tells him jokes and that some overpowered guy wants to kill him)

...Paul fuck is this the way to tell someone you're their "brother" ? A little of decency please (Chuuya's about to suffer so much I can't continue) (I will) Adam's scream was a little terrifying the first time I read it, the "That man is Paul Verlaine!" shout made me shiver and still does. Still love them

The sad thing about this first interaction, is that Verlaine is honestly sad "like the sea at night", and honestly wants Chuuya to believe him, he truly thinks of themselves as anything but humans. He doesn't do it out of malice (one of the reason he's still alive down those fucking dungeons I know it) and it all makes hating on him hard. If you're able to hate characters like verlaine I envy you

It is a call for help, and his personal way of saying "Hey, I've never felt understood by anyone cause I'm not human and I don't feel as one, wanna come with me and be two non-humans together?", but it came out a little bit more like "Let's be non-humans together, but anyone who ever tried to tell u you were human should die, so everyone you love rn. Hope you don't hate me, kiss kiss"

here is why I didn't want to read it. he is ready to listen to Verlaine. Chuuya doesn't think of himself as truly human, so he wants to listen to him, but his first thought is about the Flags, and sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the french guy didn't kill his friends. got to thin ab it now

yes, darling, there's a difference between love and control. I'm sorry no one ever explained it to you, you boyfriend didn't have the possibility to. and like always Asagiri's able to portrait questions like this in his stories, cause it's a difference not everyone understand. or that not everyone cares about. Verlaine probably didn't really care, desperate how he was about having someone to understand him

this makes me hate every panel where Chuuya uses Corruption (hate on Mori, don't hate on Dazai he was the only one to ever give him a choice. well, it was at least a choice from Dazai's point of view. he was like "do what you want, I don't really care if the Mafia fall! just follow your heart<3" but ofc Chuuya would have never let dazai and the Mafia fall. as if. it's still sweet. now cry with me)

He should leave himself suffer and feel. he's not going to. he should. able to dream or not, he will have from hallucinations when drunk or high or whatever situation he's in and see their mauled bodies. he will always remember the room he spent beautiful moments with his family in as covered with the blood of said family.

this is basically self harm bby, stop it. he wants someone to confirm the truth, and is so horrible to himself to ask this to an android (what's thaaaaaaaat) who is unable to say something like "It wasn't your fault, he was to one to kill them. he's more powerful than you, you and your friends couldn't have done anything. he wanted you to give up on your life for someone you met from not even ten minutes. he had already killed them", the truth. he can only analyze the situation without any emotions.

little thing from the first scene at the bar, albatross making period jokes to his bro (he's about to die in his "bro" arms. he's about to gift him his bike as his last words. but he made a period joke)

(first chapter done and I'm done with myself) (and this light novel) (it's everything but light)

[fsfghgee]

Au mix of MK1/MK original, in which 18yo Tomas is being sought after by a few Lin Kuei male Nobles. The fact he's a European is a attractive quality as well as his skills in Smoke magic. These elite warriors ask the old Grandmaster for permission to court the sweet, handsome Tomas. Of course Tomas feels flush and little excited at the prospect of marriage, having a family and being seen as worthy of being a Lin Kuei and a spouse to them.

Bi-Han is furious that his father forces him to be the chaperone of all of Tomas courting so no funny business doesn't go pass the kissing. The truth is he struggles with his feelings for Tomas and envy and jealous of being just a witness. Especially seeing Tomas enjoying the flirting and

Father and son confront each other, the old man knew of Bi-Han's feeling for Tomas and said if he wants to make Tomas his future consort then court him as well. But remember it's Tomas's choice. Also the father mentions that Sektor is also seeking to have Tomas as his consort too. Bi-Han goes for it! As he does hate Sektor as he could challenge him for Grandmaster position! And for Tomas!

Imagine the smut-smut- and fight nonsense between these two and the rest.

Well, I tried my best. Sorry if I missed something! I hope you like it! ^^

Hidden Feelings

Bi-Han (Sub-Zero) x Tomas (Smoke) | 18+

- Tomas, the stray dog that my father took in, have you seen him anywhere?

-I haven't seen him since he was sent to meet with negotiators. - Bi-Han looked around on pure instinct, but in his brief search he found no one resembling the european. - Why?

- Forget it.

- I can help you fin…

- I said forget it! - Before Cyrax continued to insist, Bi-Han left stressed towards the castle. Fed up with being part of his father's idiocies, so angry that anyone passing by could tell it wasn't a good time to ask him for anything, he just wished his Grandmaster's premonition would happen soon.

Having to accompany his adopted brother on yet another night of courtship was not what he expected from an "important and confidential mission" when summoned by his father weeks ago.

"Aren't you the one who's always telling me to never trust a sorcerer?"

"But not that their premonitions and veiled threats should be taken lightly."

- Of all the orphans that could appear... - Bi-Han muttered frustrated as he hurriedly crossed the castle's corridors. - Father had to find an omega to bring home...

"A foreign omega on top of that"

He hated the fact that he had an omega adopted brother and much more how much attention he attracted. Not just between Lin Kuei warriors, but from rival clans as well…

It wasn't once or twice that Bi-Han stopped Tengus from kidnapping him, when the slavic boy insisted on leaving the territory alone on sporadic hunts.

- I would kill for the chance to woo him.

- A european has his charm and so on, but I prefer asians like myself, having children with a european is…

- A dream that I will never realize. - Bi-Han rolled his eyes in pure disgust when he heard the voice of young warriors in one of the corridors of the huge library - Imagine children with unique features like gray hair, those blue eyes...

- How long have you been in love with the Grandmaster's adopted son anyway? - He expected to find Tomas studying some book recommended by Xiaoqing, the Lin Kuei's Elder Arcanist, not two... - You've been sighing for him for so long that I don't even know anymore.

- Well…

Bi-Han tired of hearing more of the same about the young european, growled in frustration and quickly left the library.

He was looking for the room of Kuai Liang, his brother and best friend, with the intention of talking and perhaps convincing him to offer to take this weight off his shoulders. Kuai Liang knew him well enough to see through his actions, understand his frustrations, and try to alleviate them the best way he could. Although Bi-Han never said exactly what he felt, Kuai Liang was good at reading him.

- I never imagined that Hedi could be so sweet... - Kuai Liang just smiled and nodded while the youngest talked excitedly about the last date with one of his suitors. - The way that…

- Brother?

- Kuai Liang.

Tomas remained with his back to the door and Bi-Han standing just in front, surprised by the older man's entrance and too embarrassed by the thought of how much he had heard.

- May I help you?

Bi-Han just pointed at the gray-haired one. And as if Tomas could guess that it was him they were talking about, largely because he was too used to Bi-Han simply ignoring his presence or making signs that only Kuai Lian could understand, he turned to look at Bi-Han.

- Father wants to talk to you about another romantic rendezvous... - Kuai Liang couldn't help but frown at the disgust he felt his brother had in every word said. - Another idiot interested in you.

- Bi-Han. - Rebuking him, Kuai Liang stopped questioning himself.

"Maybe he's just tired."

- Another one? But already?

- Hurry up. I don't have all day.

Tomas snorted, saying goodbye to Kuai Liang briefly, quickly following behind the cryomancer who was already leaving the room at a fast pace.

The silence was welcomed and appreciated by the cryomancer, Tomas knew that. Although when he spoke, Bi-Han had an annoying tendency to love the sound of his own voice, often piping down anyone nearby before they could even express their opinions properly.

He knew that Bi-Han was stubborn and not interested in other people's opinions, just one more trait inherited from his mother, besides his appearance.

Tomas liked to think that his and many others' fascination with Bi-Han was because of his extraordinary strength, powers capable of building wonders, destroying with ease and rebuilding even more grandly, all housed within a warrior who was blessed with the angelic appearance – adapted to the masculine sex – of the beautiful young woman that his adoptive mother had once been, combined with the excellent proportion of a male body worked from an early age…

- Why are you always so excited about these encounters?

Tomas almost chocked in his own saliva when he heard Bi-Han's voice suddenly sound. It wasn't like him making idle conversation. Not with him.

- Why wouldn't I be? Unlike you, I don't want to end up alone. - The older man's grit of teeth and sour expression were invisible to Tomas who just continued to respond indifferently, following behind Bi-Han with quick steps. - Kuai is already engaged and soon I won't have him around like I do now. And between being with someone who respects me and someone who despises me after my father is gone, I prefer the first. - He spitted acidly before leaving him behind.

Uninterested in anything Bi-Han could say to mock him as usual.

__________

When Bi-Han entered the Grandmaster's office, Tomas was already waiting for him sitting in one of the guest chairs, in front of his father, talking about what he had thought of the suitors so far.

- None of them seemed suitable to him so far. - Bi-Han exclaimed monotonously, ignoring the younger man's irritated look and his father's questioning one as he took his place next to the gray-haired one.

- What do you mean by that? Tomas has only praised everyone so far. - Bi-Han just rolled his eyes at his father's naivety. - Is there something I should know and Tomas isn't telling me?

"He speaks as if he doesn't know the slavic dog's pathetic tendency to overvalue any act of kindness, regardless of the ulterior motives that may be hiding..."

- Tomas? - At the eldest son's silence, he addressed the youngest. -  Can you explain?

- I already told you everything, father. Everyone has been extremely respectful so far. I would be honored to be joined in matrimony with any of them.

- Well, earlier today I received a proposal from our master armorer. - Grandmaster smiled minimally, leaving his children apprehensive. - His eldest son, Sektor, will go on a date with you next week.

- Sektor?! - Bi-Han and Tomas repeated in unison.

- Do you have a problem with that?

- No. Not at all. Just… - In fact, Tomas was confused. - He never seemed to like me very much.

- He must be shy. Give the boy a chance.

Tomas nodded emotionlessly.

- Of course, it would be unfair of me not to give him a chance.

- That's the right thing to do. - Bi-Han just looked at the Grandmaster angrily before taking a deep breath, looking back at his closed fists in his lap. - His father was always a great friend of mine. I'm sure his heir will be a great master armorer in the future. And as a key part of our clan, marrying him will be a good way to honor their family's loyalty to us and keep yourself protected when I'm gone.

- I don't like when you talk like that... - The adopted son's concern got a tired smile from the Grandmaster.

- Death will come to meet me sooner or later. I just hope to die with honor and knowing that all my children will be safe without me.

Bi-Han suddenly stood up and asked to leave. Finding his son's behavior strange, Grandmaster denied the request and asked Tomas to leave them alone.

- What do you still want from me, Grandmaster?

- Cut the irony, Bi-Han. I'm your father. And you know you should treat me as such.

The younger cryomancer just rolled his eyes and sat back down when his father motioned to do so.

- What's your problem now?

- Anything. There's nothing wrong.

- I know you. I know you too well... - The older man got up from his chair and walked to Bi-Han, gripping his shoulder with one hand. - Tell me what's going on, son.

- I don't think Tomas is ready to get married.

- Why do you think so?

- He's only 18 years old. - Sulking, Bi-Han moved away from the older man's touch when he got up too. - If my mother were alive, she wouldn't allow this circus.

- What do you really mean, Bi-Han?

- You're practically selling him! - He stated angrily. - You will leave him in the hands of whoever bids highest…

- Bi-Han…

- He belongs here! In the castle! His place is... - Grandmaster just watched his son shaking with rage. There wasn't much he could do when he saw him like that... So disturbed. - His place is here! He must stay with me!

- Y-You… - Amazed, he could barely finish a sentence. - Would you like to court Tomas?

- What?!

- Do you? Don't you?

- I… I…

- I'm sorry I never noticed how you felt about him. I had my suspicions, but… - Grandmaster just reflected for a brief moment on how much Bi-Han reminded him of his late wife even in this. - Well, you never saw him as a brother, after all. I think I worried for nothing because of that. You've always protected him well... More times than I can count now. However, I cannot be unfair to others… - Bi-Han raised his eyebrow in skepticism. - If you have feelings for Tomas, you have my permission to court him. I won't stop you. But it's his choice to accept your feelings or not.

warning: yaoi, rough sex, mpreg, 18+

[destisea-a]

some dialogue and quotes for briar. because i am in fact insane, and absolutely adore this character that much. he is a harmony character, so he's a support, and his damage type is quantum. / his VA is: christopher/niosi ( reigen/aritaka )

first greeting: you can call me briar, ( trailblazer ). hope you're enjoying yourself here in the land of dreams. if you need any help, just let me know.

greeting: lost? don't worry, i'll get us all back on track.

parting: glad i could help. don't be a stranger, ( trailblazer ).

about self ( work ): oh, i help keep things neat and tidy in the dream. not alone of course, but it's demanding regardless of how many people there are.

about self ( eyesight ): you worried about me? don't be. i've been like this since i was born, and thanks to the family... i'm able to see better in the dream.

about self ( the family ): me? i'm a member of the oak family. but unlike sunday i don't need to stand in the spotlight all the time. i don't envy him in the slightest.

chat ( the harmony ): there's merit to the ideology the harmony presents. but it is easily misunderstood, and twisted. not much to be done about how others might interpret an aeon's will. they have no reason to care about what we do. just so long as their path continues on unimpeded.

hobbies: i love receiving gifts from far away places. i can't rightly leave the pena/cony you see, so it's nice to see things from other worlds.

annoyances: i hate pretending to be proper and presentable all the time. as hard as it is being so close to the memory zone, at least i don't have to pretend to like anyone.

knowledge: i once heard about another planet ( thalassa ) that's almost nothing but ocean. with strange aquatic humanoids, and massive fish the size of islands. now i'm sure you've noticed; but there's a lot of similarities between the dream, and the sea. and as much as i enjoy it... i'd love to see the real thing.

about sunday: as the face of pena/cony, sunday has a lot on his shoulders. i try to help where i can, but i worry if he might crack under all that pressure.

about robin: she once sent me a souvenir from one of her past tours. i've kept it all this time- and hope she might be able to tell me about where it's from.

about boot/hill: i've heard about galaxy rangers, boot/hill definitely fits a lot of what i expected. but he's actually a lot of fun to be around.

about black/swan: i've a great deal of respect for the memo/keepers. the memory zone is not a place you want to find yourself in- that she can roam it's ever changing halls with as much confidence as she does. it's worth admiring.

eidolon activation: there's a whole universe to see, now if i could just...

character ascension: step by step, one at a time.

max level reached: woah, job done already?

trace activation: see? i'm more than just a pretty face.

added to a team with boot/hill: did you mean what you said, ranger?

added to a team with black/swan: hello again, memo/keeper.

[milfmorrowind]

Catch Me When I Fall (Epilogue)

whoops! I wrote another chapter to this. turns out I had more thoughts. anyway, enjoy!

chapter word count: 4,249

fic word count: 12,658

link to full work on ao3 | parts one two three

When Mailie trudged her way back into the Flagon, Delvin and Vex were waiting for her. Delvin beckoned her over with a wave when he saw her enter and she came without comment, too tired to voice a response.

"You were in there for a while," Vex remarked as Mailie approached.

"Telling him off took longer than I expected," she responded, leaning against the fence surrounding the pool. Mere months ago she would not have trusted it with the weight of a tankard, but one of the first renovations she'd had performed was replacing the existing fence with a newer, taller, and stronger one. She didn't need anyone falling in and catching a cold-- there were children around, for gods' sake.

"I hope you told him what an idiot he is," Vex said as she crossed her arms. "And to never go running off like that again."

Mailie had to smile at that. "I did-- or in so many words, anyway." She suppressed a yawn. "How were things while I was gone?" She didn't really want to ask for fear of an answer that might keep her awake even longer, but she knew she had to.

Delvin set his notebook down onto the table next to him. "We got on well enough. Rune picked up a few interesting items that should fetch us a pretty penny, provided we can find the right buyer. I've got Ton working on connections as we speak. Cynric thinks he's got a lead on a big score, though he's been stingy on the details."

"Meaning he doesn't have them," Vex interjected.

Delvin snorted. "Right you are. We'll see if he actually comes through. Beyond that, business as usual. I'll spare you the details. You can check the ledgers yourself if you want them." Mailie nodded gratefully, knowing she would probably be doing just that. Later.

"Thanks, Del. I need one of you to talk to Herluin and find out what we owe him for supplies. Preferably before he has a chance to think too hard about it."

"On it." Before Mailie even finished speaking, Vex was marching off towards the apothecary's shop. Delvin watched her with an amused expression.

"I don't envy him if he tries to pull one over on her," he muttered.

Mailie snorted. "Me neither. Though a part of me would love to see him try." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Gods, she was tired.

Delvin raised an eyebrow at her. "Take a seat," he said, pulling out a chair. She all but collapsed into it. He sat down across from and gave her an appraising look. "If you don't mind my saying, boss, you look like you'd lose a wrestling match with a skeever at present. What are you up to next?"

Mailie sighed. Sometimes she was glad that Delvin could read her like book, and other times she hated it. She wasn't sure which it was at the moment. "I don't know. Food, bath, sleep. Haven't decided on the order yet."

"I can help with one of those." Delvin stood and disappeared to the bar for a moment before returning with a bowl of soup, which he placed in front of Mailie. "Eat that, and get some rest. You've earned it."

She managed to let out some appreciative noises before setting upon the soup. It was Vekel's usual, meaning it wasn't anything special, but it was by far the best thing she'd eaten in days. Delvin let her be while she continued eating. When she finished, she stood and left the Flagon, too tired to care that she'd left her dishes on the table. Vekel could hardly complain; he had her to thank for his booming business.

She returned to her bedroom. She slowly pushed open the door to avoid making any noise that might wake Brynjolf. Thankfully, he appeared to be fast asleep.

Mailie shut the door behind her and crept to the other side of the room. Carefully, she removed her borrowed armor and set it atop her dresser. She then undid her braids and combed the tangles out of her hair, wincing at the snags on her scalp. She'd need to properly wash the sweat out of it at some point, but it could wait. Finally, she blew out the candle on her nightstand and crawled into bed.

Brynjolf stirred. "Lass?" he said groggily into the darkness.

Mailie lay down next to him. "Right here," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his chest.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, humming appreciatively. "S'good to have you here."

She smiled, and draped herself over him. "It's good to be here."

***

The Winking Skeever was alive with activity, but Mailie partook in none of it.

She stayed at her corner table with her cup of mead, overlooking the lively scene on the inn's main floor. It seemed as if every working person in Solitude had elected to spend their gold here tonight, filling the air with shouted conversations and raucous laughter. Which suited Mailie's purposes just fine.

The sound of footsteps came up the stairs. Mailie kept her eyes trained on the bar below her as the argonian crossed the balcony and sat in the other chair.

Gulum-Ei carried his own drink, which he set down on the table. Mailie drained the last of her mead.

"I assume there's a reason for all this secrecy," he murmured.

"Apologies." Mailie put her tankard down. "I wouldn't normally go to these lengths, but I have extenuating circumstances to contend with."

"As long as it keeps me out of the dungeons, I don't mind." Gulum-Ei took a sip of his drink. "What do you have for me, then? I assume it's something good."

"The opposite, actually." Mailie crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. "I'm looking for something."

"Oh?" Gulum-Ei seemed intrigued. "We get plenty of unusual items passing through Solitude. I'm sure I can help you. What are you looking for?"

Mailie shifted. "Information."

The smuggler rapped his fingers against the table. "On what?"

Mailie leaned over to meet his gaze. "Three weeks ago, the Legion arrested a man breaking into a house near Castle Dour. A Nord, red hair, leather armor. He was badly injured and needed help changing out of his armor before they put him in the cell. I need the name of the guard who helped him."

Gulum-Ei stood. "Wait here."

Mailie emerged from the tavern the next morning. Instead of any of her usual armor, she'd donned a Nordic dress. Whether or not it would make her less conspicuous remained to be seen. She walked down the streets of Solitude, missing the familiar weight of Dawnbreaker on her hip. She was not without substantial protection-- there was a dagger on her waist and in her boot, she had her magic, and these streets were rather safe, besides, but she felt naked without it nonetheless. It had killed her to leave the sword behind in her room at the inn, but she knew it would draw far too much attention.

She spotted her quarry. Gulum-Ei's information had been sound, as usual. The guard was standing near the Hall of the Dead, squinting in the early morning sun. He was younger than Mailie had expected-- she normally wouldn't have been able to tell, but his helm was visorless. Probably a more comfortable option in most circumstances, but on this particular day he was probably wishing for a closed helm, if for no other reason than to block out some of the sun.

Mailie walked over to him. He didn't seem to notice her approach as he stared blankly across the street.

"Good morning, sir."

The man nearly jumped. Clearly, passers by did not often stop to talk to him. "Ah-- Morning, ma'am," he sputtered out. He looked around him, as if expecting to see some kind of emergent situation occurring behind her. "Can I... help you with something, ma'am?"

Mailie folded her hands in front of her. "I do hope so," she said. "I believe I find myself in a situation in which--" She glanced over her shoulder, then stepped forward and lowered her voice. "Might I speak to you in private, sir? It's a rather delicate situation."

The guard blinked. "Certainly," he said in an uncertain voice. "I, er-- Let me take you to the fort, ma'am."

They walked up the streets to Castle Dour. In the courtyard, a few guards milled about, practicing with bows, swords, and axes. The guard led Mailie past them and through the door to the castle's interior. Once inside, he turned and led her down the stairs to the barracks. A few people looked at them curiously as they passed, but none seemed to pay them much mind. Finally, the guard opened a door to a small side room, and Mailie followed him inside.

He shut the door behind them. The room was windowless, though a pair of candles provided enough light to see. "I don't believe I caught your name, ma'am," the man said as he removed his helmet.

"Amelie." Technically not a lie.

"A pleasure to meet you then, Amelie. The name's Erik." He gestured to a table behind him. "Please, have a seat."

Mailie shook her head. "No, thank you." Refusing him was a gamble, she knew, but she didn't want anything between her and the door.

He looked at her curiously, but did not press the issue. "Suit yourself." He put his helmet down on the table. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

Mailie placed her hands over her belt, fiddling with the fastening. "I don't know if you'll have heard, but... a few weeks past, a man was arrested near Castle Dour. I don't know if he'll have given his name, but it's Brynjolf. My understanding is that he was hurt quite badly and needed some assistance-- perhaps you heard some of this from the guard who helped him?"

Erik's jaw moved silently for a moment as he stared at her. "I did hear of it, ma'am. Well, in a manner of speaking. I was the one who helped him."

"Oh!" Mailie feigned surprise. "I suppose I can cut to the meat of it, then. I know it's a lot to ask, but is there any chance that I could see him?"

Erik's whole body seemed to tighten. "I'm afraid that's not possible, ma'am."

Mailie looked down. "Of course. I understand. Security is very important, especially with the war on. I'm sorry to ask this of you, but would you take a message to him, at least? I would not ask under normal circumstances, but..." She pressed her hands to her stomach and let her cheeks redden. "As I said, it's a rather delicate situation."

"I--" Mailie thought that Erik's face might be redder than her own. "I'm afraid I can't do that either, ma'am, though not for the reason you might think. Brynjolf disappeared from the dungeons not long after he was captured."

"I see." Mailie put on her most crestfallen expression. "Thank you for your help, sir. You have been most kind." She dropped her hands and turned to leave.

"Wait." She turned back around. Erik looked positively terrified. She wondered if he'd even meant to speak.

"Yes?" she said hopefully.

Erik looked to be at a loss for words. She was close. She stepped forward so that she was barely a foot away from his face.

"Sir-- Erik, if I may-- I don't mean to press you, but I find myself in a very difficult situation. I will likely never see that man again. If there is something you wish to tell me--" She placed a hand over her chest. Below it, her heart beat a steady rhythm, but more importantly, the Amulet of Articulation pressed against her palm. "I would very much like to know it."

The guard looked down at her. Mailie could almost see the turmoil in his head. Finally, he reached inside his uniform and pulled out a small object, wrapped in cloth. Without a word, he pressed it into Mailie's hand.

"You should go," he murmured.

Mailie stepped back and nodded. "That I will. Thank you, sir."

***

The walls of the Ratway were, predictably, wet. For once though, Mailie did not particularly mind. She walked briskly down the winding halls, barely even noticing the weight of her pack. When she finally reached the office door, she entered without knocking.

Brynjolf sat behind the desk. He looked up at the sound of the door with the most disgruntled expression Mailie had ever seen him wear.

"Welcome back," he said sullenly. The desk before him was littered with papers, books, and a sprinkling of coins, but was dominated by a heavy leather-bound ledger.

Mailie walked around to his side of the desk. She slipped her pack off her shoulders and dropped it onto the floor, then shoved a few items to the side and closed the ledger so she could perch on the edge of the desk. "Has Delvin seen what you've done to his books?"

Brynjolf crossed his arms. His leg, still splinted, was propped up on a short stool. A pair of crutches leaned against the wall behind him. "As a matter of fact, he has."

"And he let you live? Clearly you're more charming than I thought."

"I'm charming enough. At least for you, it seems."

Mailie smiled and dropped off the desk. Brynjolf tilted his head up into her hands as she leaned down and kissed him. His hands went to her waist and pulled her in close.

"Hm." Mailie tucked his hair behind his ear after retreating from the kiss. "For future reference, I greatly prefer this to the welcome you gave me."

Brynjolf's thumbs rubbed circles into her sides. "I don't know if you've noticed, lass, but I'm a tad limited in my movements." He shifted his splinted leg. "Sorry to disappoint."

Mailie rolled her eyes, but sat down on top of his leg-- the good one. Brynjolf wrapped his right arm around her waist to hold her steady.

"How were things while I was out?" she asked, still playing with his hair.

"Fine." He shifted forward a bit so he could lean back, giving Mailie more room. "Nothing of note, really."

Mailie finished with his hair. "Does whatever broke Vipir's nose count as 'nothing of note' to you, then?"

"If by that you mean his own stupidity, then yes. He managed to lift an entire book out of a mage's pockets without rousing a bit of suspicion, then tripped on his own feet two streets away. You should have seen him when he got back. Thrynn nearly fell in the water, he was laughing so hard."

Mailie winced. Vipir's nose would be fine, but she was a bit concerned about what might be in that book-- and even more so with who he may have taken it from. She resolved to ask him for details later.

"I'll take your word for it." She cupped his face in her hand and stroked her thumb gently back and forth across his cheek. Brynjolf was never especially attentive in maintaining his beard, but he'd let his whiskers grow even longer than usual in the week or so that Mailie had been gone.

"After all this time, you finally take me at my word." He tilted his head to the side to let her fuss over his cheek. "And what adventures did you find yourself on this time, lass?"

"Running back and forth across the whole damn province, mostly," Mailie grumbled. "I've cleared Herluin's bounties in Whiterun and Winterhold, but Ulfric's steward is proving difficult. I might actually have to prove his innocence to get it taken care of."

Brynjolf looked at her skeptically. "You sure he is innocent, lass? I'm not saying I don't trust him, but I wouldn't leave him alone with my porridge, if you catch my meaning."

Mailie shrugged. "Innocent may be something of a stretch, but I know he didn't kill the man in question. Directly, at least. I'll speak with him about it later. Hopefully he can provide some helpful information, or at minimum a convincing lie." She leaned in until her face was finger's breadth away from Brynjolf's. "But that's a task for another time. For now, I have more pressing concerns."

When she brought their lips together into a kiss, Brynjolf's arm tightened around her waist. She let him pull her in against his chest as she continued to run her fingers over his scraggly beard. His hand rested comfortably on her knee, stabilizing her as she balanced atop his leg.

They came apart for just a moment. Brynjolf's fingers dug into Mailie's side, but she barely even felt them.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips.

Mailie smiled. "I missed you too," she whispered back, tilting her head in for another kiss.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Mailie jumped off Brynjolf's lap with a barely concealed yelp of surprise and brushed herself off. "Come in!" she called, hoping whoever was outside didn't think anything was amiss.

Vex strolled into the room with her usual composure. "Oh good. You're both here," she remarked. "Get to the Flagon when you can. Cynric came through on that score he was going on about, and I want to show you the details." She looked them over and raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know why you're both looking at me like that?"

Mailie shook her head and prayed fervently that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Don't worry about it. We'll be along in a bit, I want to finish looking over the books."

Vex shrugged. "Suit yourself. Enjoy your numbers." She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Mailie turned around to see Brynjolf looking at her with an amused expression. "It's not funny," she insisted, but his grin only grew wider at her indignation. "Brynjolf!"

He chuckled, which did nothing to calm her. "You have to admit, lass, it is a bit amusing. You're redder than a tomato."

She leaned back against the desk with a scowl. "You're insufferable."

He winked. "You love me for it."

She did, but she wasn't sure she could say so at the moment without it coming out as a smart remark, so she kept quiet. Her fingers drummed along the edge of the desk. "Bryn, can I ask you something?"

Brynjolf leaned back and rested his elbow on the back of the chair. "I serve at your pleasure, Princess."

Mailie didn't have it in her to roll her eyes. She looked down at the floor, suddenly doubting herself. Brynjolf seemed to notice her consternation and straightened a bit.

"What's on your mind, lass?"

She took a deep breath. "When did you know?"

"That I loved you?" he asked quietly. She nodded, not trusting that anything she tried to say would leave her mouth willingly.

Brynjolf paused to think. "I've two answers," he said after some consideration. "When you and Mercer went missing... I suppose that's when it started. I knew you could both take care of yourselves, but couldn't for the life of me work out why he wanted you to settle the score with Karliah. If I'm honest, I spent the whole time I was searching for you steeling myself to tell him off for it." He snorted. "In a way, I did, eventually. But to answer the question of when I knew for sure... I suppose it's when we made you guildmaster." His jaw was tight, and Mailie though she saw him grind his teeth. "It-- something changed in you that day, lass. When I put that amulet around your neck, all I could think of was how far you'd come, and how proud I was." His voice broke off a little at the end and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "What about you?"

Mailie knew she couldn't very well skirt the question after that. "I-- I don't think I realized until I heard you'd been arrested. I didn't think much about it, I just had to find you. You knew that, though." Her cheeks were burning redder than ever. "As for when it all began... it was Karliah. I didn't think anyone would believe her, Bryn, but you did. I--" Her words were failing her. She nudged at his leg with her foot. "You're a good man, Brynjolf. Better than you know."

He looked away. They were terrible at this. Mailie bit her lip. There were a hundred things she could say, but not one of them felt right, and every one was harder to say than the last.

"We should go see Vex," Brynjolf said finally. He moved as if to grab his crutches.

Mailie scrambled off the desk. "Wait." She'd forgotten half the reason she came in here in the first place. She rifled quickly through her pack and retrieved a small cloth bundle. "Here, I have something for you," she said, and handed to Brynjolf.

He looked at her curiously. "What is it, consolation for my leg?" He began to unwrap the bundle. "I'll admit you've surprised me, but it's not much substitute--" He froze.

Mailie watched with bated breath as he unfolded the cloth. Her hands were on the verge of trembling, so she clasped them in her lap. The cloth fell to the floor, ignored as Brynjolf laid his father's amulet across his palm.

Mailie drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry to spring this on you. I meant to tell you when I came in, but--"

She was cut off by Brynjolf launching himself at her. She caught him as he fell forward against her and would have toppled over if it weren't for the desk behind her. She would have scolded him for being so careless of his leg, but he pulled her into a kiss before she got the chance.

His hands cradled her head gently as he placed kiss after kiss on her lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, and every other inch of her face he could reach. The amulet's cord was looped around one of his fingers and bumped against her back with every movement, but Mailie barely even noticed. For once in her life, she let someone else shower their affections over her without hesitation. Her hands were braced against his shoulders with just enough strength to keep him balanced on his good leg, but she otherwise let his lips wander over her face.

It took him a while, but Brynjolf eventually remembered that Mailie needed to breath. He ceased his attentions and leaned his head back enough to look her in the eyes. "How?" he whispered in a voice full of wonder.

She placed one of her hands over his heart. It beat like a drum inside his chest. "Gulum-Ei found me the name of the guard who helped you out of your armor," she said. "And told me his schedule. I found him and convinced him to give me the amulet."

Brynjolf shook his head in disbelief. "I was certain he'd have gotten rid of it as soon as he could. It's not worth much, so he couldn't have sold it, especially not in Solitude. I've been imagining it at the bottom of the ocean more often than I'd care to admit."

"You'd be surprised what people are willing to buy," Mailie muttered. As if he didn't know that.

Brynjolf shook his head again. "What did you even say to convince him to hand it over?"

"I told him I was carrying your child."

Brynjolf choked. "That was your solution?" he sputtered.

"It worked," Mailie said with a shrug. "And I more implied it, anyway."

Brynjolf eyed her with a trepidacious look. "Just so we're clear, lass, you're not--?"

Mailie rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, Bryn. Do you really think that's how I'd tell you?"

He shuddered. "Forgive me for choosing to not give it too much thought."

Mailie chuckled. The hand holding Brynjolf's amulet had gone from her cheek to the table beside her to support his weight. Almost instinctively, Mailie rested her own hand on top of it. He lifted it from the table and laced their fingers together, then brought their hands to his lips and kissed the backs of Mailie's knuckles.

Mailie let her fingers slip out of his. They tangled in the amulet's cord as she lifted it from Brynjolf's hand and slipped it over his head. The amulet thumped against his chest, and she took his face in her hands and brought him into a soft kiss.

"Thank you," he whispered, resting their foreheads together.

Mailie kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Don't mention it."

Brynjolf's hands settled on her waist as he nuzzled along her jaw. "How long do you think we can keep Vex waiting before she sends someone after us?"

Mailie snorted. "I think she's far more likely to proceed without us." She stroked Brynjolf's cheek with her thumb. "We should go to her. I'd like to see if this score is as good as Cynric seems to think it is."

"Very well." Brynjolf leaned back. "Shall we pick this up later, then?"

Mailie rolled her eyes. "Not sure I have much choice in the matter, seeing as you've been sleeping in my bed." She dropped off the desk and handed him his crutches. "You need to shave, by the way."

[blogofloathing]

Part 1 of ?! Gregory C And The Food Expediancy

Slimy wriggling little bugger, that's what the folks up there would call me surely, Gregory thought.

As the–quite aptly described—slimy wriggling little bugger, slinked through the S.I.T steam tunnels.

I'm safe here, he thought, no one came down here anyway, no one would be around to look at me.

The wet eyed fellow was indeed a sight to behold, teeth like broken glass and a pockmarked face.

Though none of which would be of concern to any passersby, Gregory's face hidden primarily by leagues of dripping hair, like seaweed on his head.

His unfortunate complexion further under mystery by the trenchcoat and gloves he'd bummed out of the trash, no one could know, they would hate him

There was no more certain a thing than that, if anyone knew what he was, he would be shunned.

An outcast among outcasts thrown in the fryer.

Taking a moment to regroup his wandering train of thought, Gregory reminded himself of his mission.

Buy the food, don't draw attention, get out, the less than smooth to say mantra kept him calm

Somewhat at least, his nerves were still on high alert, scoping out for predators between the kelp.

Gah, between the grass, this was land, no ocean talk Gregory, he scolded himself in a harsh tone.

If he wanted to fit in he'd have to nix all of that fishy lingo, this world was harsh to outsiders.

He knew that for a fact, having nearly never interacted with a human, their eyes seemed to gouge chunks from his flesh with a hooked stare.

Gregory never wanted anyone to look at his body ever again, he sometimes liked to imagine he was simply a floating head, gliding across the earth.

The idea of someone, looking, seeing, or even.. touching him, it made his scaly flesh prickle Iridly.

Everywhere he felt the hands, imprinted on his skin like a tattoo, no matter how hard he scrubbed there they laid, as if they'd been branded onto him.

He hated to think about, them, the men, strong hands and scary words, that was why I must remain here, thought Gregory, safe from them.

This spiral of despair was shockingly interrupted by a high pitched *SQUEAK* right beside him.

It seemed a mouse had made its home here in these halls just as Gregory, he envied the squeaker

Small enough to go unnoticed, skilled enough to carve out its own living, this rodent held a score in a power of ten above Gregory's

The mouse however, didn't hear his thoughts, as one can expect, and likely wouldn't have gotten it if it could, it simply squeaked again.

Pointing right towards its stomach in an animated fashion, "you, want cheese..?" The fish boy asked, croaking with unused vocal cords readjusting to speech, it wasn't often he spoke aloud.

Instead of suddenly being able to speak perfect English, it just continued pointedly gesturing.

Gregory sighed, the exhale making his gills flutter and squelch wetly, another gross difference.

Not having any cheese, he wished he could explain that to his new little friend, "I'm sorry.. I don't.."

This equally hungry fellow reminded Gregory of his original goal, that's right, go to the resturant.

Sorry, he thought, striding beloft the rat, leaving it looking mildly dejected to go back into the wall.

Gregory took care to avoid the scattered rocks and loose nails across the floor, certainly a downside of this area being so semi permanently deserted..

The halls of these steam tunnels were littered with old rusted doors, most of them being locked.

He walked past several, bellowing the hum of large machinery or hushed words between people.

A door to the freezer, whirring audible blizzards, and in contrast the low fwoom of a boiler hissed.

A padlocked door, said lock rattling in an alarming manner, the growls of some awful beast behest it.

A door with the label scratched off, hearing loud, strange zaps, and mechanical raggling, he swiftly moved past, finally reaching his desired entrance.

Mentally readying himself, stood before the door with an unhelpful skull and crossbones stenciled across the top, nearly intimidating him to leave.

But no, this was where he'd get what would likely be his only meal that day, his stomach growled.

A low and rumbling refrain against his own fears.

Part 1 of END, Part 2 Coming Soon, The Fishy Adventures Of Gregory Chisholm Will Continue!