#despite the fact it made all his friends and family despise and avoid him last year

[robotwrangler]

aghhhhh my home life is about to become so bad again

[dontsh0vethesun]

christmas lights and tension

part two of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

fluff, friendship, an attempt at humour, cringe of course, tension and bickering, meddling gyals, feelings good and bad, found family

wc: 2.9k | part one | part three

The night prior played on in your head the entire journey to work. You thought about the pathetic way she could still make your heart beat with just a look of her eyes into yours and how, even after all this time, a brief closeness still made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. As though, they too, just wanted her nearer. 

It was aggravating, the way you wanted her within your periphery despite the hate you’d accumulated with regards to the redhead in her time away. Since she left with little goodbye. 

The festive ornaments Wanda had decorated the cafe door with dared to annoy you when you let the door shut heavily behind you and each motion you went through was carried out with more force than necessary. You loathe how easily Natasha had gotten beneath your skin. With just one evening leaving you in such a way, you dare to think what else was in store. The mere fact only sets your plan in stone - you have to avoid her as much as possible. She’ll be gone in a week, it’ll be a simple task to execute. 

–

When Sam and Wanda arrived they only had to share a glance, darting their eyes towards where you huffed and puffed at each menial job you carried out. The annoyance bounced off you and they knew better than to drag you into a conversation. 

They let you stew in your Romanoff-stained head, plastering on your best customer service grins before retreating to make their orders with an obvious and venomous taste left on your tongue. 

Pietro, however, was the allegorical spanner in the works. The blonde hurried into the building when he knew you’d reached the afternoon lull, an expectant smile on his face for the gossip he was waiting to hear from your lips. Wanda had warned him, and she did so again with a muttered scolding beneath her breath. She’d told him all about it last night - of course. But he wanted your side of the ongoing feud (that had been significantly lacking ignition for longer than he’d prefer).

Despite what his sister may say, he will not deprive himself of hearing your angry retelling. 

“So,” he began with a playful lilt to his vaguely accented voice. “Anything interesting happen last night?”

He merely laughed at the glare you shot his way, a trait you’d grown to despise after all of these years. 

“I told you not to say anything,” Wanda sighed, slapping his hand away from the cookie he tried to help himself to. “She’s angry,” she finished with a stage whisper and a nowhere-near-subtle gesture to where you stood beside her, 

“I’m not angry,��� you muttered with a roll of your eyes that proved just the opposite. 

“So you definitely didn’t almost break my favourite mug, huh?” Sam laughed, still milking the emotional wound of the morning. It wasn’t broken, which you had assured him multiple times, but the near fatality was enough for him to hold against you for the foreseeable. 

“It’s an ugly mug, Sam,” you mumbled, letting a huff of a laugh break through your tough exterior at his overly dramatic gasp. 

“Only an angry person would say such a hurtful thing,” he frowned. 

“I’m not angry. I’m totally over it. One hundred percent, completely, over it.”

You couldn’t even convince yourself, let alone the lifelong friends who stared back at you incredulously. You could just about kick yourself with the effect she somehow has on you. You could practically suffocate in it. 

“Right,” Pietro nodded, seemingly agreeing with the others to feign the slightest belief in your statement. “So last night was good?”

“It was great,” you nodded, possibly giving yourself whiplash with the intensity. “Right, Wanda?”

“Yes. Definitely,” she agreed. “Very, um, tension-free and comfortable.”

“Yeah. It’s not as though somebody I haven’t spoken to for years was just staring at me all night,” you grumbled. 

“Someone you’re totally over.”

“Exactly. Someone who has no hold on me at all. In fact, I actually forgot about the time she blocked my number, moved away and just never talked to me again.” 

“So the annual Christmas Eve party at the Romanoff’s is still good to go?” Sam chimed in. 

“Oh - I actually have plans that day,” you stumbled out - completely blanking on the tradition you’ve all kept up since high school.

It was an unconventional family you’d all found yourselves a home within; what began as a friendship group sitting together at lunch turned into gatherings during the holidays. Melina and Alexei had become parental figures for a few of you; large gatherings were held for all holidays celebrated within the social circle you’d accumulated, and the time you’d all spend together only grew you ever closer. 

When you were younger, the ‘adults’ would be forced into the kitchen whilst you had your own teenage gatherings in the living room. Yelena would sneak a bottle of vodka from her parent’s cupboard, Kate would supply pizza, and Kamala would always amuse you with the comic stories she’d write herself into. Maria had often fondly commented on her wish for you to just ‘go to a party and get the cops called on you for underage drinking’, but you were all happy with Monica bringing her telescope - her prized possession - to show you the stars. You’d all rather critique Sam’s baking endeavours and tease Carol about her weekly changing crushes on various cheerleaders. Watching Kate clumsily lose her balance in an attempt at a race against Pietro was your preferred way to spend a Friday night. 

You and Wanda would giggle at your friends, at the way Kamala would have to be practically carried home by her parents. She’d feign tipsiness and you’d all pretend you didn’t know it was just from all the Pepsi she’d drink. And then you’d gossip. Your favourite pastime for all these years, it was the pair of you against the world. She’d try to convince you of the obvious crush Natasha harboured for you, analysing each and every time she’d looked your way to see if you’d laughed at one of her jokes. Telling you of the eyes that constantly tried to find yours across a room as though she noted down each interaction - knowing her, she probably did. 

She’d told you for years that your feelings were mutual and just as you let yourself believe her, the girl that held your heart in the palm of her hand just took it with her to college. And then to New York. And now that she was here, you swear you could see it peeking out of her jean pocket. 

“Melina’s apple pie is literally your favourite,” Wanda spoke with a poke of her elbow into your side, knowing your stubbornness could easily subside if she had anything to do about it. 

“Just bring me a slice,” you grumbled. 

“No. You’re coming,” she returned with a shake of her head that never failed to put you in your place. “Besides, you’re over the Romanoff phenomena, right?”

“Right.”

And just as though the universe is desperate to see you in a fugue of embarrassment the bell above the coffee shop door sounded, and the hinges you always mean to tend to creaked, as the subject of your aching resentment sauntered in. You caught a brief glance of the soft smile that pulled at her lips as she looked around before you ducked out of view, hitting Wanda’s leg when she looked down at you with a laugh. 

“You’ve got a nice place here,” she spoke. You hate how much you still adore the rasp of her voice. 

“Yeah,” Wanda answered, you saw her nod from where you sat. And hid; your cowardice seemingly ever present only when it comes to her.  “We opened it a couple years ago.”

“She always said you’d open a shop here. I knew she’d do it.” You could hear the smile in her words and though Wanda is always on your team she couldn’t miss the fondness in Natasha’s eyes. The same glint from before; she made a mental note to tell you later. She does love romance after all, even if one half of the beloved couple is on her naughty list. She couldn’t completely let go of her matchmaking fantasies, even if she had to work with a friends-to enemies-to lovers debacle. 

You rest your chin on your tucked-up knees as you remember the day she’d walked with you through town, sharing a cup of ice cream whilst you spoke about your dreams for the future. You’d pointed at an empty space with a ‘for rent’ sign plastered to the window and claimed it would be yours, that you’d let Wanda decorate and give Natasha free coffees. She’d laughed and told you she’d write her books in the back corner and name a character after you. 

Neither of you mentioned the key elements of your desired futures. The presence of one another, sharing kisses and tender embraces. 

“My mom sent me,” you heard her say. “Something about cookies to have while we decorate? Apparently you come over to help?”

“You’d know that if you ever came back, Nat.” Wanda hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, she almost felt bad at the way the redhead nervously cleared her throat at the unspoken accusation but she couldn’t just forget the way she’d treated you. It was impossible to forget the way you only let her see you cry. 

“Yeah, I know,” she breathed. “It’s busy in New York, y’know? Deadlines and meetings,” she added, trailing off when she realised her excuses weren’t even good enough for herself. “I was hoping I’d bump into her actually, is she not here?”

“No, sorry,” Wanda lied seamlessly. “She had to go and chase up a delivery.”

“I guess I’ll see her tonight?”

“I’ll see if she can make it.”

–

She didn’t ‘see if you could make it’ at all. Each protest you made was debunked by persuasive words and puppy dog eyes she knew you couldn’t resist. You let any attempt she made of Natasha being a ‘changed woman’ glide right off of you, Wanda Maximoff’s belief in true love be damned. 

So, you were forced into attending the annual get-together where Melina sugarcoated her forced labour with promises of eggnog. She only enlists you to help because she knows Alexei and Yelena are less use than a chocolate teapot when it comes to festive decorations. 

You muttered beneath your breath as you dawdled your way to the front door, arms full with the box of cookies as requested (Sam’s own recipe), hoping to savour as much time as possible before you were thrust into close proximity with the woman you’d made it your mission to avoid. Wanda was orchestrating this on purpose, you’re sure. 

Before you’d even had time to fish the key out of your jacket’s pocket, the face you hoped not to see was smiling at you with the door opened wide enough to let you in. You didn’t let yourself pay attention to the familiar scent of the perfume she still seems to wear. 

“Hi, you made it,” Natasha smiled, taking the box from your hands, feeling the same pull as you when her fingers brushed against yours. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t let Yelena go without her cookies, could I?” you smirked, laughing when the aforementioned woman hurried over to take them from her sister. 

“Kate Bishop, I have acquired the goods,” she shouted through a mouthful of crumbs that you knew must’ve left a trail behind her on the carpet. 

“Wanda wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Melina promised eggnog, of course I’m here,” you smiled, directing it towards the woman who approached you with a glass and a grin. She couldn’t help the twinge of hurt that washed through her at your obvious coolness towards her, how you hardly looked at her, though she couldn’t blame you for it. 

You were soon roped into hanging stockings along the fireplace with yours and the Maximoff’s still given a place. In hindsight, you wish less of your energy was focused on being on the opposite side of the room to Natasha and more on the sly whisperings between the women in the corner. 

It wouldn’t have been as much of a surprise when the two of you were given the task of fixing stringed lights on the porch. You could’ve wrestled Wanda to the ground at the way she laughed behind her hand at each subtle way you attempted to push the job into somebody else's lap. But their minds were made up and four pairs of eyes glinted with mischievous amusement when you begrudgingly made your way out into the cold Ohio evening. 

The yellowed light that filtered onto you both from within the house made her skin glow, her milky complexion just like cream. The kind that’d entice the swipe of your tongue across your bottom lip, wanting just a taste, but wanting to steer clear of its addictive elixir even more. You didn’t let her catch sight of your eyes tracing the side of her face whilst she attempted to unbind the tangled mess of lights bundled in her hold; mapping the contours of her jaw and the sharp turn it took as it dipped down to her exposed neck. You still knew each sporadic freckle and you chased a glimpse of each one before you darted your eyes elsewhere. 

It was confusing. How all those antipathetic emotions she stirred up within you, adding to the mixture with each passing year of being out of your life, were somehow joined by those old feelings flooding back. It all washed over you in a blearily muddled wave, filling each space it could find, bubbling and boiling, spitting out in ways that made you flinch. 

How could one woman cause you such upheaval? 

“Here,” she muttered, holding out the stringed lights that seemed to be in even worse condition than they had started with a scrunched up face of surrender. “I give up.”

You took them from her wordlessly, still hoping you could get this over with as quickly as possible. 

“Things like this take time, Natasha,” you spoke. Your voice was quiet and directed downwards with your chin against your chest as you picked apart the mess she’d handed you. “You can’t just expect it to unravel all perfectly just because you want it to.”

“Why do I feel like that has a double meaning?”

You only shrugged in response, weaving the wires with care so not to damage them further, getting there slowly but surely. 

“And here I was, hoping you’d talk to me tonight,” she murmured, scuffing her foot against the worn down wooden decking beneath her boot clad feet. 

“I don’t have much to say.”

“Alright.”

“Things don’t always happen the way you want them to, that’s all,” you breathed. “You can’t just come here and have it all fall in your lap all perfectly neat. Life doesn’t work like that.”

“Right, so this definitely isn’t about the lights,” she laughed. It was humourless and the second you dared to spare in her direction showed you the grimace that washed over her lips for just a moment before it faded again. 

“I don’t find any of this funny, Natasha. It’s a lot,” you sighed. “You being here after all of this time - after all that time I was just forgotten by you. You must be really dense if you’d expect me to just welcome you back with open arms.”

“I didn’t forget you,” she returned, brows furrowing at the way you truly believed that. “I could never just forget you.” 

“Then why’d you leave me behind?”

Any words that lay across the length of her tongue wouldn’t garner the courage to venture past her lips. Her mouth opened and closed. Opened and closed again. Words were never easy when it came to you. 

“I’m done,” you stated, doing all you could to push down the sting at her lack of reassurance. You felt foolish that, just for a moment,you’d thought that something heartfelt and profound would ease the ache. Sweet words spoken in her velvet-soft voice, saccharine enough to fix it all. You held out the neat and tangle-free length of string lights for clarification and she cleared her throat as she pulled her hands out of the front pockets of her jeans to take them from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The woman didn’t shy away from letting her sights linger on your body when she held the ladder still for you to climb. Still, she kept her hands away as much as she wanted to feel the solidity of you beneath them, only instructing you with words. 

“Move them a little to the left, maybe?”

“I know how to hang lights, Natasha,” you grumbled, straining the muscles of your arms to reach above you. 

“I’m sure you do but they’re uneven,” she bit back. 

“Whatever you say.” You rolled your eyes out of her sight whilst she snuck a peek at the exposed skin of your back where your shirt lifted. 

“Alright, now just hook them over the corner and we’re done,” she added, smirking at the dramatised groan you answered her with despite the tension in her jaw at the thick atmosphere between you. 

“If I’d known you’d back seat decorate, I would’ve got you to do it all,” you scoffed when you could finally make your way down from the stepladder. 

Neither of you acknowledged the hand she lay on your back, fingertips ghosting your cool skin with warmth that bit past the winter cold. Neither of you said anything about the way it stayed there. And you definitely didn’t admit to yourself that it left you willing its return when it drew away. 

Wanda was going to have a field day with this.

[gardenoflupins]

Grief/Mourning / @wolfstarmicrofic / 878 words

CW: implied self harming tendencies and suicidal thoughts

Remus stirs his tea blankly.

His shitty apartment was dark and suffocating. He kept his blinds drawn and never bothered to turn the lights on. It made no difference to him. He never took in the world anymore. Not since Lily and James had died a year ago by the hands of the man they all loved more than anything in the world.

In the first few weeks following their deaths, people he used to go to school with sent him letters to express their condolences.

It only took a month for the letters to stop completely. One month and everyone went back to their lives. They shopped, they talked, they laughed, they loved, while Remus stayed permanently stuck in time.

He thinks it will always be like this for him. Another year would pass and he’d still feel the same as he did. Then another would pass. Then another. Then another. He feels a bitter sort of resentment for those who continued on with their lives when Remus’s own remained grey and loveless. He had lost two brothers, a sister, a nephew, and a lover all at once.

Yet the world continued moving.

After forcing himself to drink the tea, Remus would move to sit on the desk chair that still had Sirius’s leather jacket hanging on it. It had sat there untouched for over a year and Remus couldn’t bring himself to throw it out because it was the very last thing he had of Sirius. Remus had cast a spell to keep the scent locked in, finding it unbearable to think of even that little thing slipping through his fingers when he already lost everything he had. He’d sit at this desk for hours on end. Too afraid and guilty to touch and inhale the jacket, and too empty and cold to do anything else but sit in silence.

Everyone lied when they told him that time would heal all. It didn’t. He felt more and more heartache as the loneliness suffocated any inkling of life left in him. He had been reduced to a marionette and there was no difference between this and being under the Imperius Curse. The Imperio would at least hurt less. He would have to go through this grief again next year, then again, then again.

Some days he would work at temporary muggle jobs until they eventually fired him for his illness, and he’d repeat the job searching all over again.

Then he’d have tea.

And mourn.

And grow numb.

Then he’d have tea.

And mourn.

And grow numb.

More tea.

More mourning.

More numbness.

Then the full moon would come. He’d tear himself raw as the wolf that was once called Moony would grieve over his missing pack. And Remus would allow it. He never complained about the physical pain the next morning. If anything, he welcomed the feeling. Nothing could ever come close to the pain Remus felt each waking day that his family was gone. The deep cuts and mauled skin were featherlight touches in comparison. Remus only felt anger when he’d eventually wake up and pull through. In his youth, he and his friends would worry about the fact that werewolves didn’t live long as they were known to be the reason for their own demise.

Remus sits there bitterly, realising they had wasted their fear on nothing. He wished that the textbooks were right, and he hated Moony the wolf every day because of it. One job. He was a bloodthirsty killer with one job. And he couldn’t even do that right.

Remus hates himself most of all. Even more than he hated Sirius. He hates himself for the way he was. For deluding himself into believing that his friends loved him despite being a werewolf when in the end he was abandoned for the very same thing. He hates himself because he thinks that if he had been born as someone different then he could have avoided everything that went downhill. He could have saved them all.

The biggest reason why he hated himself is because even after everything Remus still loved Sirius. Sirius killed Remus’s only friends and he still loved him. Sirius distrusted and despised him during their last months together and he still loved him.

But it was the previous version of Sirius that he loved. Or more accurately, the one that never existed. It was Sirius who was bold and confident, loving and mesmerising. Sirius who accepted Remus entirely and gave his heart and soul to all his friends.

It was that version of Sirius that Remus missed more than anything. A year later and Remus still can’t associate that Sirius with the real one. His mind protected him from it. They weren’t the same people. He convinced himself Sirius had died. And he had. All the good parts of him died.

That’s the Sirius that Remus mourns.

That’s the Sirius that Remus loves.

And still the world would have the heartbreaking audacity to continue moving on when he was left as nothing but an animated corpse forcing itself to pretend to be human.

So, he’d have his tea.

Mourn.

And go numb.

He’d have tea.

Mourn.

And go numb.

Tea.

Mourn.

Numb.

Tea.

Mourn.

Numb.

Tea.

Mourn.

Numb.

[knyplotrewrite]

my thoughts on canon Zenitsu

(Disclaimer: This is a big analysis thingy on canon Zenitsu where I will be pointing out both positive and negative parts of his arc and characterization. If you do not want to see the criticism or simply wish to avoid manga spoilers, press “J” for desktop or just scroll really fast to avoid it. Thanks!)

Alright, so Zenitsu.

He’s definitely another of those characters that I find fans either loving to bits or completely despising, and then some that simply don’t care for him at all. For me? I personally do not like canon Zenitsu overall, but it’s purely because of the way Gotouge wrote him that really makes me wish it wasn’t so evident what they were trying to accomplish.

It is super clear they struggled with balancing comedic relief and the emotional depth of Zenitsu. There are very few exceptions, but he’s not really allowed to be taken seriously by the narrative. They somehow have to take what little heartfelt moments and impact he made and turn it into a stupid joke. He’s not treated as a character but something to laugh at, which really feels off in a story that’s supposed to be dramatic and mindful of its characters’ humanity.

So if you’ve ever felt like his development goes all over the damn place throughout the story, this is why. His role as one of the primary forms of comedic relief screwed him over big time.

However, there are those exceptions I hinted at before, and that’s namely his relationship with Kuwajima and his fight with Kaigaku. I felt those were handled extremely well and given the space to emotionally develop and connect with the readers/viewers in the respective places they appeared in (Natagumo, Infinity Fortress).

But like... that’s it, you know? Despite being considered a big part of the KMBK trio, he doesn’t actively connect with Tanjirou or Inosuke in meaningful ways. Not in the way he does with Kuwajima and Kaigaku. Neither Tanjirou nor Inosuke really drive him to become a better person like the Thunder family does, which is pretty odd.

Then there’s Zenitsu with Nezuko. I absolutely despise this relationship in basically every way. Not only is it morally questionable due to Nezuko’s implied age regression, but pretty much every damn scene those two interact in actively makes Zenitsu an obsessive, creepy bitch when it really did not have to be.

Which leads me to my next point: his attachment/abandonment issues. These are not handled well at all, I’m sorry. I’ve really only complained about this to a select group of friends, but I find the fact that he was essentially abused by all seven of his fiancees weird. Like, he never met one normal girl? Why is Gotouge insisting that all these girls were cruel to him? Did they not consider that relationships couldn’t last in other ways? And also why do they never bother bringing this up again? Since he’s an ADHD-coded character, I could totally see the connection between him having so many failed relationships to him being so obsessed with finding a spouse later on, but its not given the depth it deserves. Once again, the fact that he’s treated almost purely as comedic relief took that potential away from us.

It’s a really big shame too since Nezuko would have been the perfect way for Zenitsu to really work through his issues regarding his relationships, and his complicated feelings when it comes to love.

@keniaku since you asked for this lol

[ginza-division]

Eiji's Thoughts on Ueno Division

Aranai Norikoru

"This is that young Bōsōzoku girl, correct? I remember she and her gang of misfits used to ride all throughout Ginza in the early hours of the morning. We called the police to be rid of them, but they never got here on time to catch them. And even when they did, she and her friends would always give them the slip. I was glad the day the police managed to arrest them. I thought that would be the last my family and I would ever see of her, but when I found out she was the one leading a team into the D.R.B., well... I guess that was too much to hope for."

"Besides that, she seems to be a frequent user of PROFILE. Much of what she posts consists of pictures of her and her friends, or her driving through her city with her bike, which I do not condone, by the way. I'm worried she may be influencing Akeno because he keeps asking us to buy him a motorbike. I really don't want to know why..." Eiji sighs.

Shisuta Heisha

"So this is the young woman whom Masa seems to despise so much? ...I'm almost afraid to ask 'why'. She seems to be a very gentle, likable person, a stark contrast to my dear teammate. What's more, a part of me can sympathize with her over the loss of her child. I've not experienced that, but..." Eiji looks away, afraid to say anything else. He looks solemn for a couple of seconds, before shaking his head, and looking back at the screen.

"As stated, I really don't see what Masa's issues with her are. But knowing him and what he gets up to, I can only hazard a guess and believe that the two of them may have had some... falling out. I'm more than likely wrong, but that's just my guess. Besides that, she doesn't really seem to have much of an Internet life. She has a PROFILE, but it's rarely used. Oh well. I know the site isn't for everyone, but I'd rather have people not use it than use it for the wrong reasons."

Kisouna Yuzairu

Eiji looks at the photo of the attorney, and sighs.

"Anyone with any sense knows about this woman. Kisouna Yuzairu, the one-woman army who successfully managed to root out the Black Dragon gang almost single-handedly. Like many other people in Japan, I was there when she made her announcement about ruling out all crime in the country. And so far, she's held true to that promise. Thankfully, despite the amount of lawsuits PROFILE and Sigma Inc. have been hit with, we've managed to avoid getting on this woman's bad side. I pity the simpleton who manages to get her upset."

"She, like Shisuta-san, seems to have a PROFILE, but she doesn't really use it either. The few pics she's uploaded are just of her and her daughter, which is nice. I can kind of understand why she's so adamant to erase all crime. Doing it for the sake of your child is a noble and worthwhile pursuit. I just hope she remembers to pace herself."

Sakurai Clan

"Despite only having one battle, the team representing Ueno is widely popular among divisions, which is odd considering that their city is really just a part of a much larger one (Taitō). Still, that fact alone doesn't diminish their strength. Plus, they seem to be in good standing with the majority of the teams, especially Saitama."

"...If I'm being honest, they may be our biggest threat. Not because I don't think we can't win. But rather, because I'm worried Masa may take his issue with Heisha-san too personally. If we face them, I hope he can keep his emotions in check."

"..."

"...What am I saying? Of course, he won't."

[bxllafanficc]

Lady of mischief- Part four

Pairing: Loki x Greek!goddess f!reader

Summary: Asgard is having a change of power so there are several events Loki has to get right before he can announce victory against his brother as the next king. But one lady’s approval will change the whole outcome if the stakes are right. That lady is you, intended heir to the throne of Olympus but tied down to a marriage of convenience with one of the princes of Asgard. The prince you choose to marry will be the next king but you refuse to let yourself be a pawn in this game for power. Loki, with his intentions to take you as his queen has far greater reason to marry you than just for the reason of being king. You however, would rather cut off your left arm than exposing yourself for the fact that there’s another purpose besides Loki getting a throne to sit on.

The palace halls were crowded with workers and even aristocrats from far away staying in the palace’s guest areas. People from high ranking families and servants alike came our from their rooms. The chatting wasn’t quiet enough for you not to hear but the context was obvious. Everyone wondered why Asgard was suddenly shaking, why the ground beneath their feat suddenly became an object of death instead of the concrete safety it’s always been. The poor Asgardians had probably never experienced an earthquake before. Or a god loosing their cool and taking it out on the nature either.

Despite people making the halls hard to get past, everyone stepped aside for the prowling embodiment of fury: you, on your way to confront the man who started the nightmare.

You truly tried to make the waking earthquake to stop. It wasn’t at full force yet since you were still somewhat grounded. But every time you would try to strap the source of its boiling anger, a maid you walked past would mention prince Loki’s wellbeing and the emotions would burst off the lid again.

And you knew that you’d never make this decision in a calm collected state. After all, this was what he wanted. You’d play into his hands if you didn’t act careful.

You pounded on the wooden door and secretly hoped it would break a hole from the impact. The door stood unaffected.

“What’s the matter?” The mumble was faint and came after a brief paus.

You gave the door one last punch and regretted it immediately. How would confronting him affect the earthquake? We’re you being selfish for potentially putting the Asgardians in danger?

You were just about to turn around and leave but the door swung open with a stale-eyed Loki at the other end.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing to my poor door?”

Couldn’t he at least act like he was surprised to see you? At least give you that much satisfaction?

You crossed your arms tightly above your chest and forced yourself to stare him right in the eyes. The thought of making him stand accountable for his actions was the only thing not making the shaking worse.

“Are you the reason behind me falling every 3 seconds? The waves are especially strong here, did you know that?” You actually didn’t know about that, which only showed just how little control you had over yourself.

“Would you care to elaborate exactly what was your plan tonight? Making me look like your pretty little pawn all dolled up in that dress or locking me up here, tied to your leash for all eternity?” You tried your best to hide the emotion in your words but ended up just spitting them through your teeth instead.

He looked genuinely clueless with his furrowed eyebrows. At least he gave you that. Wrong timing though. His hand traveled up the frame of the door as a way of stealing himself for the shaking. If you lost just a little more control, he’d either fall on his rear or right over you, taking you down with him.

You stood unaffected by the shaking, however.

“What are you talking about? Why would I want to lock you up?” He raised a pointed finger at you.

You had to scoff. How could he pretend not to know when it was so obvious?

“You going off earlier to whine to my uncle wasn’t you manipulating him into getting what you wanted?”

The finger fell slightly and he formed a faint ‘oh’ with his lips. But his expression was still curious. Was he offended?

“Yes but, what does that have to do with you being ‘locked up’?”

“You don’t know?” The shaking seemed to intensify and it caught you off guard.

“If you’ll enlighten me, I’ll answer that for you when I know what we are talking about”, he said as he almost fell forwards with a soft yelp. Your noses touched just as he got a hold of the doorframe, your cheeks brushing against each other as he slumped forwards in relief. It was only a second of him being so close but you felt frozen in the moment.

“And would you stop doing that?!” He motion at the ground and the shaking actually faltered. Not because he told you to stop, but because you weren’t furious anymore. The anger seemed to have vanquished and you were too caught up in his closeness to ask yourself why.

Finally Loki seemed to realize how close you actually were and pulled away. His hair tickled your neck just like they’d done earlier.

“I’m sorry for…” He tapped his nose and cheek with a soft hand. “I know you… that you, yeah.”

Find it disgusting? ‘Despise’ his touch? But you never really meant it, though. Back then he laughed it off but now it seemed like he took your words with him ever since. It kind of made your stomach twist in guilt. Or hunger. You couldn’t tell. When was the last time you’d eaten? Wine didn’t count, that much you knew.

“(Y/n)?”

Why were you here, again? Right.

“Right… Zeus banished me from entering Olympus.” You just said it bluntly because there was actually something else you’d rather said. You lacked the guts though.

“What? Why? Does my father know about this?” His eyes turned round as if it was really bad news for him. The reaction you’d expected was nothing like what you actually got.

“I don’t know about that. But I’m forced to stay with you and Thor until… Until I’ve made up my mind.” Your arms fell flat to your sides since you were no longer angry. Back was the collected you. But you couldn’t quite remember the events leading up to you calming down.

“Haven’t you made up your mind since long ago though? And that’s not for all eternity- wait nevermind, I get it.” His expression faltered to match yours and you started looking around. At the furniture, at the walls… Without the anger giving you strength, you could no longer look him in the eyes for too long.

Lastly you peeked beside his broad frame and into his room only to find it absolutely destroyed. Chairs and what you assumed must’ve been his working desk were broken into tiny pieces across the floor along with shattered porcelain figures of different sorts. The drapes were halfway ripped off the window and stuffing from the bedsheets were still visibly dusting the air.

Loki must have seen you noticing the mess because he let out a muffled sound and moved in front of your vision.

Now forced to look at him, you saw that his hair was tangled, clothes messily arranged and his chest rising and falling rather quickly. Was that redness in his eyes as well?

“Loki, are you okay? Have you been cr-“ He immediately cut you off with a dismissive arm and avoided looking at you. The tables had turned so quickly you still had trouble figuring out how to handle the situation.

“Of course not! Now it’s time for you to go. It’s bad for your highness’ skin to be awake for this long.”

‘Your highness’?

He was already midway at closing the door when your hand snaked between and caught it. You could see him getting ready to put distance between himself and the door through the small gap you had left.

“Is there something that- is everything alright?” You didn’t really know why you were now chasing his attention like that. Didn’t you want him to stay away from you? To avoid and feel nothing but hostility from you?

Loki only wasted one second to look at you before he sighed and untangled your fingers from his door. The skin-to-skin contact was warm. Not at all despicable as you’d told him. Damn your mouth sometimes.

“Yes. Everything’s just fine. Good night, my lady.” And so you were facing a closed door. You were thinking about knocking again but somehow knew that door wouldn’t open anytime soon. You’d heard of past experiences where the prince would lock himself up in his room for days just so nobody would see just a tad of vulnerability from him.

Had you just made the maid’s work harder? You thought about how you would have to apologize later if that was the case. Maybe apologize to the entire population of Asgard for causing the ground to shake while you were at it. If you were to stay here for all eternity, you might as well make some friends. Because it would most likely be forever. Either you were trapped refusing to marry one or the brothers or trapped by the crown that would be on your head if you did end up choosing one.

The walk back to your room was quick since it wasn’t too far from the prince’s. Henna greeted you at the door and brought you inside to discuss the matter that caused your outbreak.

“So prince Loki’s room was like a scene out of a war? I heard from the maids here that outbursts like that has only occurred a few times before but the prince would always cover it up with illusion magic immediately. He’d ignore it for as long as he could until sooner or later when the servants tripped over the mess and couldn’t see the reason for them bruising an arm or knee.”

He’d cover up the destruction? Why hadn’t he done it earlier? Maybe you caught him off guard mid-rampage. And so he was to distracted to conjure the spell.

Henna had been talking nonstop ever since you came back. She insisted on babying you tonight and currently brushing your hair before bed, she had all the time in the world to talk.

“Henna?” You stared into your own reflection in the mirror and found only tired eyes met you at the other end.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do you know if it’s usual for the prince to cry?” Henna put down the brush and went to grab your nightgown with an almost skipping walk. Why were she in such a light mood tonight? Right. Everyone had a great time at the banquet, except for you and, you assumed, Loki as well. You should be asking Henna if she danced with some handsome youngster tonight instead of hearing about gossip about the second born prince. You should mind your business. Loki was fine, as he said.

But Loki is a known liar.

“No, I don’t think so? There would definitely have been servants talking about that if it ever happened since prince Loki isn’t very popular with the maids. Why do you ask?”

If that was the case, then you were probably just imagining it. His eyes could be red out of straining the veins in his face from destroying all that furniture too. And after all, prince Loki’s wellbeing wasn’t your concern.

But you couldn’t help but wonder why he suddenly started addressing you so formally just as he wanted to get away from you, since he never usually kept up the formalities in private.

(A/N: Hi! Don’t hesitate to comment on each chapter what you thought about it/if you liked it since that keeps me motivated to keep writing. Also reblog so my story reaches a wider audience, if you really liked it! Your support is much appreciated. Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this series. Have a good day, lovelies!)

Find the other parts in my MASTERLIST

Tag list: @liffydaze @queen-of-mischief @sidepartskinnyjeans @girl-obsessed-with-things @obsessivelysearching @reverse-iak

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Try Not To Fall In Love

Summary: Being forced into marriage is never an exciting idea simply because you are getting married to someone not out of pure love. So when he was forced to marry a girl he doesn't know, he desperately gets help from his friend, hoping his friend could save him from the arranged marriage.

Theme: fake dating au, strangers to lovers

Genre: fluff, tinge of angst

Warnings: none

WC: 6.6k

Pairing: Bestfriend's Friend!Hoseok x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I got this idea the other day while I was listening to a song by Keshi called Summer, where there was a line in the song which goes, "3 months is all we got, try not to fall in love" so I wrote this before I lost the feel of it ✌

“Shoot, what am I gonna do? My parents are setting me up for marriage with this… I don’t know, this spoiled brat whose parents apparently owns the famous clothing brand in Korea. Ugh, I hate her! I don’t wanna be married to some spoiled girl who only thinks about herself.” Hoseok groans in frustration as he paces around Namjoon’s living room.

Hoseok’s parents were power and money hungry. They thrive to be rich but forgets that the safer alternative was to work hard for it instead of taking a short way out. Since Hoseok was an only son, they used him as a pawn by planning to marry him off to the daughter of the most wealthiest family in the country.

He despised this whole plan.

Namjoon could only frown as he didn’t know what to do for his friend.

“Can’t you like maybe, I don’t know? Tell your parents you’re not interested in her or something?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah, unless you want me to waste my breath then yeah sure I’ll make that excuse to them. They’re going to make me marry her no matter what I say! Shit! I hate this!” Hoseok growled as he plopped on the couch and threw a pillow across the room, making Namjoon scold him for throwing a tantrum.

Hoseok mumbled an apology as the room fell quiet. Just then, it was as though something clicked in the back of Namjoon’s mind. He snapped his fingers and shot up from the couch instantly, shocking the poor boy.

“I know! How about you get a fake girlfriend? That way your parent’s can’t say anything right?” Namjoon exclaimed as if it was the most brilliant plan ever.

“What do you want me to do if they ask me to break up with this fake girlfriend? Joon, I’m telling you. My parents can be hella desperate, they'd do literally anything to make their plan work.” Hoseok sighed again.

“Look, if you get a fake girlfriend, treat her like a real girlfriend. That way, when they see how much you care and love each other, your parents won’t bother you with arranging a marriage for you ever again. There! Problem solved.” Namjoon shrugged, only for Hoseok to roll his eyes.

“Okay fine, sure. But the problem is, who am I gonna ask to help me with the plan? You know I don’t have any close female friends…” Hoseok frowned worriedly at his older friend before the male smirked.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Namjoon said with a satisfied smirk on his face.

You were just typing away your codings for your assignment when a familiar figure stood in front of you on the other side of that wooden table. You glanced up and were immediately greeted by your best friend, Namjoon.

“What is it now, Namjoon? I already told you the group project is not discussable with members outside your group.” You sighed, earning a blabber from him.

“Yeah yeah whatever. Listen. I need you to do me a favour.” Namjoon began, rendering you curious.

“With what?” You asked.

“I need you to be a fake girlfriend for a few weeks.”

“What? Why do you need a fake girlfriend? Having girl trouble again?” You chuckled at your successful mock directed to him.

“Shut up. Anyways, not me. It’s for my friend.”

Your eyebrow was raised in confusion, staring at him with so much doubt.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” You said but he was quick to stop you.

“What? Why?”

“Namjoon, for one, I don’t know who your friend is. And two, this might be a little risky…”

“Why do you say that?”

“Most of the time when two people get into these fake relationships, they often end up being awkward and are close to opposite from what they hoped to turn out.”

“Y/N come on! Please! He’s really in need of help, his parents are forcing him to marry a girl he doesn’t even know and love. Just help him this once, will you? After all of this ends, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Namjoon begged as you stared at him with worry in your eyes and he could clearly see it.

After much thought, you decided to help out simply because if you were in this person’s shoes, you would also dread the idea of being forced into marriage.

You just hope this plan turns out successful.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Namjoon had texted you earlier saying to meet his friend for lunch to discuss how you want the plan to go. Namjoon gave you the address of the cafe and told you to find a guy with dirt blonde hair and black long sleeved shirt. You didn’t want to have a bad first impression for yourself so you opted to dress slightly nicer instead of your usual sweatpants and oversized sweater.

You chose a simple denim skinny jeans, fitted cropped top with a cardigan to go over. Once you made it to the cafe, your eyes skimmed over the entire interior of the cafe.

You noticed that the cafe was filled with people but out of pure luck, there was only one guy seated near the windows alone and was exactly as Namjoon described him to be. With that, you made your way to him, noticing the two cups on the table. You assumed he bought a drink for you to not get kicked out of the cafe.

He was handsome. You definitely never met him before. Which makes things slightly harder considering this means you would have a lot to learn about this guy if you had to pretend to be his girlfriend for the next few weeks.

Right when you were a foot away from the table, his eyes glanced up from his phone only to lock eyes with yours. For a moment, you saw the way his cute brown eyes sparkled.

“Hi, are you Hoseok?” You asked as he nodded.

“I assume you are Y/N?”

“In the flesh.” You joked, only for him to crack into a smile that seemed too adorable. You took a seat after he gestured for you to sit down. Both of you went silent for a split second before you spoke up.

“How long have you waited?”

“Not too long, I think close to about 10 minutes?”

“Oh, sorry. I got stuck in traffic for a bit.” You apologized knowing you were in fact late.

“No, it’s fine…” Hoseok smiled as his eyes glanced around your face for a second while you looked down at the cup to see that it was a Hazelnut Latte, your favourite.

“I bought Hazelnut Latte with almond milk for you. Not gonna lie, I had to get help from Namjoon on what you usually drink. Didn’t want to buy the wrong one on a first meet.” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. You giggled at his confession, finding it extremely endearing how he asked Namjoon what your favourite drink was.

“Anything is fine honestly, I’m not picky but I guess I can say this is the perfect pick.” You smiled when you saw the corner of his lips curled up sharply.

The two of you began chatting more comfortably with each other, getting to know the other in slight depth so that you would know what to say if someone questions you about the other. You later found out he was your age and that he owns a puppy named Mickey. He was a dancer and he likes to rap when he’s bored.

You also found out that he and Namjoon have been friends since high school. Which means he’s known Namjoon longer than you have.

A few minutes later, you both decided to lay out the plan for his fake girlfriend project. You went through the basic stuff, saying what you can or can’t do in public, all that kind of stuff.

After brainstorming and exchanging ideas or thoughts on the plan, you smiled before saying the one thing that both of you had to try to be mutual about.

“Whatever we do, let’s try not to fall in love with each other.”

Your first few weeks of fake dating went well. Hoseok and you managed to act like a legit couple in public. He would drive you to campus every morning, hold hands as you walked around the campus grounds, sit with you during his free period, have lunch with you and Namjoon on days where your lunch schedules are in sync, walk you to your classes with his arm on your waist, basically everything a couple would do.

Of course, not to forget the little kisses he gives you after every walk, before every separation, in between chats, but those kisses were anywhere but your lips for you both agreed to avoid lip kisses.

Everything was going well so far and despite the little butterflies you sometimes get whenever he holds you or kisses you a certain way, you tried your best to remind yourself this was all temporary.

Besides, you were only doing this to practice so that when you do in fact go over to meet his parents, they would believe that you are dating their son.

Nobody would believe someone is dating if they saw an awkward couple who doesn’t know what to do around the other.

Right?

It was a Tuesday afternoon and you were having lunch with Namjoon and Hoseok when the latter sighed deeply the minute he sat down beside you with his own tray of food.

“Hoseok? What’s wrong?” You asked as Namjoon eyed his friend worriedly.

“My mum’s inviting that girl’s family over this weekend to our family dinner. All my relatives are gonna be there…” He said hesitantly as he avoided your eyes. Hoseok was currently picking his food, not actually eating it.

So you gently placed your hand on top of his that was on the table, successfully gaining his attention when he turned to look at you.

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. Don’t worry too much, okay?” You tried reassuring him but it looks like he was too stressed out about it.

“I know… It’s just… The last thing I wanna do is to humiliate myself in front of everyone, or even worse, humiliate you. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess in the first place.” Hoseok said as he began to have second thoughts.

Before you could respond, he got up abruptly while slinging his bag strap over his shoulder.

“Sorry, I have to go.” He apologized as he began to walk away. You turned to Namjoon who looked just as confused as you were. Namjoon told you to go after him and that was exactly what you did.

Hoseok had just left the cafeteria hall and was making his way towards the Dance Studio building when you ran after him.

You grabbed his hand to stop him and once you were standing in front of him, you took in a breath to speak.

“Hoseok, listen to me. Everything’s gonna be fine. No one’s gonna humiliate anyone. Don’t stress out too much okay? It’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him but it looks like he was still having doubts about it.

“Y/N, the plan was to bring you home with just my parents and that girl around, not my entire family. I don’t want you to get hurt if they say anything bad about you, about us… We really shouldn’t have done this, I’m sorry for bringing you into this.” Hoseok apologized again but you weren’t having any of it.

With that being said, you cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, not caring about the looks you got from the students that were currently passing by your two figures in the middle of the hallway.

“That’s not gonna happen… Okay? We’re going through this together. No matter what. We have to finish what we started. Besides, if there’s anyone during that gathering who I trust would keep me safe, it’s you.”

Your words hit him deeply and he couldn’t agree more. It has been 3 weeks since you started this whole fake dating thing. And if he were to be completely honest, the very last agreement you made right before all this started in which you said ‘try not to fall in love with each other’, this statement has been washed down the drain since the first week of your fake dating.

After the third day of practicing your fake relationship, he realized that you were an amazing person. You were so humble, kind, selfless, down-to-earth, basically everything a guy dreams of. Seeing how sweet you were with such a genuine heart, makes him go all fuzzy and warm for you.

It was only after the first week of that fake relationship that Hoseok realized, maybe he really was falling in love with you.

With that being said, Hoseok leaned into your hands as you watched his frown get replaced by a smile and soon, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist gently to say, “Okay… Let’s show them how love should really be.”

Weekend finally rolled around and you were currently getting ready for Hoseok’s family dinner. You opted to wear a beautiful lavender laced sleeveless dress with a pretty round neck, where the hem of the dress stops just past your knees. You were going to pair it with your nude heels. You style your hair to a pretty low bun with your bangs framing your face in a middle parting.

You kept your makeup at a bare minimum since that was just your personal preference. You were just packing your important belongings into your purse when you heard the doorbell ring.

You abandoned your purse for a second as you jogged to your front door. Once you opened it, you nearly got your breath stolen by how handsome he looked.

He was wearing a white button down formal shirt, the first few buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, pairing that with a tie loosely hanging around his neck. He wore black jeans with the shirt tucked in, along with a pair of black loafers.

Not to mention his hair being styled in a way that his forehead is shown but at the same time, his fringe flops down with a slight volume so that it’s not too flat.

He looks really good.

“Hey gorgeous.” He smirked upon seeing your outfit.

You couldn’t stop the blush forming on your cheeks but you were quick to respond to him to avoid getting teased by him.

“Hey handsome. Give me a second to get my purse!” You said as you jogged back into your apartment, hearing his soft chuckle behind you. After you grabbed your purse, phone and house keys, you strapped your heels on and soon left the apartment. You made sure to lock your door before walking down the hall with him.

Both of you were talking about random topics when you felt him slide an arm around your waist. For some reason, this made you jump while your breath hitched in your throat a little too loud.

Hoseok chuckled at your reaction, clearly not expecting you to react that way especially since you were always relaxed when he does that out of the blue on campus.

“You okay? You seem jumpy…” Hoseok asked worriedly before his eyes searched for yours desperately.

“Uh, y-yeah… I’m just nervous I guess.” You laughed, earning a soft squeeze to your side before he kissed your temple gently like he always does.

“Don’t be. I promise nobody’s gonna hurt you… I won’t let that happen.” Hoseok’s voice gradually got lower until he whispered those last words to you. It made your heart flip and your stomach swirl from both anxiety and adrenaline.

The drive to his family home was about 40 minutes but you enjoyed the entire ride there. Hoseok made you laugh quite a few times, both of you singing along to the songs on his playlist, you played around with his things in his car, him glancing over at you every now and then only to smile every time he catches you doing something silly or was just laughing at something he said.

Gosh he was sickly in love with you.

He finally managed to park in his parent’s driveway along with a few other cars that probably belonged to the other guests. You got out of his car, suddenly feeling nervous all over again. Hoseok noticed the way you were stuck in place beside his passenger car door, making him walk over to you.

“Hey, relax. We’re gonna be fine. You said that yourself didn’t you?” Hoseok smiles as he cups your face softly while he caresses your cheeks with his thumbs.

You slowly nodded up at him, watching as he plants a soft kiss to your forehead.

Of course this was all for the fake relationship at the end of the day, but was all of this gestures really fake though?

Both of you walked towards the front door with your left hand in his, fingers intertwined while your right hand wrapped itself around his left forearm to hold him close to you. Hoseok stopped in front of the door before turning to you and whispered, “Are you ready?”

“Ready if you are.” You gave him a weak smile and soon, he pushed the door open.

You made it inside without anyone greeting you at the door since it was in fact his house anyway. However, the minute you entered the living room, you instantly squeezed Hoseok’s hand lightly. Clearly overwhelmed by the number of people who were gathered there.

“Oh! Hoseok dear! You’re here!” One of the middle aged ladies said with a smile.

“Yes Aunt Ju, I’m here and I brought my girlfriend with me if you all don’t mind. I figured it’s a perfect time to introduce her to all my family.” Hoseok said proudly, making you feel slightly safe in his arms.

Just then, a voice sounded from behind you and it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“How dare you bring an outsider to our family dinner! She’s not invited! And who said you’re dating this low life girl? You’re getting married to Lena!” Who you could only assume to be Hoseok’s mother, said in full disgust as she glares and looks at you from head to toe.

Hoseok’s body shook with rage as he frowned at his mother, ready to shoot her down with his words if he had to.

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t be with, mom. Why should I marry someone who doesn’t mean a single thing to me when I can live happily with the girl of my dreams?”

“Nonsense! I am your mother so you have to listen to my decisions!” You were afraid of what might happen next so you tugged Hoseok’s hand a little to gain his attention. Luckily, he felt it so he glanced down at you for a second and the moment he locked eyes with you, he immediately softened.

He took a deep breath before turning back to his mother and smiled, “Yes, you are my mother. But I get to decide who I want to marry for it is my life and not yours.”

His mother’s face distorts into an offended scowl. She watched as her son brought you over to the rest of his family in the living room.

Upon sitting down, one of Hoseok’s cousin’s greeted you with a hug as she began talking to you.

“Hi dear! What’s your name?” She asked.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, you?”

“I’m Seori. It’s nice to meet you!”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” For the first time that night, you smiled genuinely as Seori warmed up to you pretty quick. Though from the corner of your eye, you could see a girl who hadn’t kept her gaze off you from the minute you entered the room.

For this reason alone, you could only guess that she was Lena, the girl who Hoseok was supposed to marry.

You were just chatting with Seori about Hoseok’s old habits when she suddenly leaned in to whisper something surprising to you.

“Honestly, I’m rooting for you instead of that rich girl. She’s such a brat. Hoseok is definitely too good for her.” Seori smiled, making you chuckle. You couldn’t believe Hoseok’s cousin was actually agreeing with you being her cousin’s partner even though she only just met you.

“Oh… Thanks… I guess?” You said awkwardly, earning a laugh from her.

“No really! She’s such a spoiled brat. I don’t understand why my aunt is dying for Hoseok to marry her. Blegh…” Seori faked a gag at the end.

Just then, your eyes travelled over to the other side of the room, only to find Lena shooting daggers into your skull. You got uncomfortable under her intense gaze which caused you to fidget in your seat. Unfortunately, Hoseok noticed this so he turned to you and whispered carefully.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“H-Huh? Oh, n-nothing. I’m fine.” You smiled at him as he frowned knowing you were lying but he decided to just trust you so he snuck a quick kiss to your cheek before smiling at you.

Why is your heart racing?

An hour went by, Hoseok kept you close to him at all times, making sure Lena or his mother never got too close to you.

You were just talking to Seori and Wooyoung, another one of Hoseok’s cousins when you excused yourself to go to the washroom. You made it down the hall and was about to enter the bathroom when you heard bickerings from one of the rooms.

As bad as you know it would be to eavesdrop, you got even curious when you recognized one of the voices to be Hoseok’s.

The closer you got, the clearer those voices were. However, your heart wasn’t ready for what you were about to hear.

“I want you to break up with that stupid girl and marry Lena!”

“No mom! What the hell? You can’t do this to me!”

“I’m your mother! And I demand you to leave that lowlife brat or else, I won’t take you as my son anymore! You choose. Outsider or Family.” His mom threatened him as she began to walk towards the door.

For some reason, you couldn’t seem to move. Your feet were glued to the ground as your eyes pooled with tears at the brim.

The moment his mother pulled the door open harshly, you flinched.

The tears on your eyes were now falling freely down your cheeks. You locked eyes with Hoseok for a brief moment before you looked back at his mother who had a satisfied wicked smile on her face.

“So, you heard right? Break up with my son if you love him and care about him still being a part of this family.”

Hoseok was frozen behind her as he watched you carefully for your next words. You two were supposed to be strong for each other. You were supposed to come out of this family dinner hand in hand with a proud smile on your face. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the outcome tonight.

So with one shaky breath, you locked eyes with his mother while your tears streamed down your face, giving her exactly what she wanted.

“Okay. I promise I’ll leave your son alone from now on. This will be the last time you see me in his life, if that’s what you want Ma’am.”

“Good. Now leave. You don’t belong here.”

With that, you gave her a weak smile before you turned in your heels and ran. Hoseok was going to run after you but his mother stopped him.

Your running figure caught everyone’s attention as Seori and Wooyoung called out to you desperately but all you did was run to the front door and left. A few seconds later, Hoseok was seen running down the hall and was about to go to the front door when Hoseok’s mother yelled his name.

He stopped in his tracks, only for her to threaten him again.

“Jung Hoseok! Don’t you dare go after that girl!”

“Why?! Why not mom?! Why can’t I go after the one girl that I love?! Tell me mom! Tell me!”

“You don’t love her…” She scoffed, trying to convince herself that her son isn’t capable of finding love on his own.

“What do you know about love mom? You call marrying someone I don’t know, someone I’ve never talked to, someone I’ve never met before, love? If that’s what you call love, then I don’t want to be a part of it. In all my life, I’ve never known what is the true meaning of love besides a family’s love. And now I know…” He paused to take a deep breath before he continued.

“Call me insane, but I am in love with her. I am madly in love with the girl who you just blatantly threatened to break up with me. It’s such a low move of you to threaten an innocent girl when all she did was love me.” Hoseok said as he turned and was about to leave when his mother threatened him again.

“If you step out of this house right now just to go after that brat, you are never to step foot in this house ever again.”

With that being said, Hoseok turned around and gave her a sad smile. He knew the decision he was going to make. He knew it would probably change his life forever. And yet, not a single ounce of regret was lingering in him when he said the next few words.

“And let the girl I truly love slip out of my hands for good? I’m sorry mom, but I don’t think so.” Hoseok said and with that, he left.

Hoseok’s father had to hold his wife back from slaughtering her son as Seori and Wooyoung cheered for their cousin while Lena was just fuming in her seat.

Hoseok arrived at your apartment building, running up to your unit level only to pound his fist against your door. He waited a few seconds but all he got was silence. He tried a few more times and still no response. He panicked as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of where else you could go.

Just then, it was as though something clicked in his brain that made him rush back to his car and soon drove off to the one possible place you could have gone to.

After a few more minutes on the road, Hoseok practically leaped out of his car and soon sprinted up the apartment steps not bothering to wait for the lift.

Once he was on level 4 where Namjoon’s apartment unit was, he gave it a few knocks.

It was currently 10:40pm so he knew damn well that Namjoon was still awake. Hoseok’s mind was currently running amuck as he tapped his foot impatiently against the ground.

Just then, the door opened to reveal Namjoon who looked worried for something, or perhaps someone.

“Joon ah! Please tell me she’s here…” Hoseok whispered desperately as his eyes pleaded for Namjoon to give him the answer he really wanted. Of course, Namjoon could never lie to his friend. Which is why Namjoon lets out a sigh of relief before smiling at the latter.

“She’s in my room.”

With that being said, Hoseok quickly kicked his shoes off only to walk towards Namjoon’s room carefully so as to not scare you.

Once he was standing in front of the door, he skipped the knocking and went straight ahead to open it.

The moment he did, his heart shattered upon seeing you sit on Namjoon’s bed with your knees up to your chest while you hugged them. You had your face buried in your arms as your soft cries echoed around the room.

Hoseok softly entered the room, closing the door behind him as he carefully made his way to you.

“Joonie… Why am I feeling this way? Why am I so sad? This is fake, isn’t it? All this is fake… So why does my heart hurt so bad?” You whispered in between sobs but still not looking up. You felt the mattress dip beside you which means someone had just climbed into bed with you.

Except, you just assumed it was Namjoon. Little did you know, you were wrong.

“Maybe because our feelings weren’t fake.”

His familiar gentle voice caught you off guard as you slowly brought your head up only to gasp when you locked eyes with Hoseok’s soft ones. He was smiling down at you, and yet, you could see how broken he was.

“H-Hoseok… W-Wha… What are you doing here?” Your voice was weak as you stuttered over your words.

“I left… I couldn’t let you leave.”

“N-No…” You croaked out. “N-No… No… What about your family? Hoseok, did you not hear what your mom said?”

With that being said, Hoseok gently cups your face with both hands as he shushes you to calm you down.

“Shh… Shh… It’s okay. I know what she said. But it doesn’t matter because what’s important is that we’re together.” He smiled as he kissed the tip of your nose, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

“Hoseok…” Your voice was barely a whisper, earning a soft ‘shh’ from him yet again.

“I don’t care what she said. I don’t care what any of my family says. It's my life so I make my decisions. And right now, I’m so glad I left. That way I can show you just how much I truly care for you…” Hoseok paused as he slowly leaned closer to you until his lips were just an inch apart from yours, foreheads touching gently before he took one shaky breath and finally expressed his feelings for you wholeheartedly.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart was pounding against your chest as you closed your eyes, afraid to look him in the eye. Finally, with one small breath, you whispered your reply for his little confession.

“I love you too, Hoseok.”

And just like that, Hoseok smiled as he caressed your cheeks before he kissed you on the lips.

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest as you slide your hands around his waist. He kissed you so sweetly, you nearly allowed yourself to fall on him. Hoseok pulls away with a soft sound, keeping one hand on your cheek while the other rests on your neck.

He kept his forehead gently against yours as his lips purposely brushed over your lips. You could hear his nervous breaths, only for him to whisper against your lips.

“Let me love you properly this time. You’re all that I want.”

With that, you couldn’t help but giggle feeling your heart full again. You loved him. You don’t know what you did to deserve him. Nevertheless, you promised to love him back equally.

7 months had passed without any of you realizing. Hoseok has been staying with Namjoon ever since that unfortunate incident with his parents, more specifically his mother. Hoseok hasn’t talked to his parents ever since, simply fulfilling her request if he decided to leave the house that night.

You were in a stable relationship with Hoseok in which he has shown you more love than what he was capable of giving you previously when you were fake dating.

He showered you with so much love, it makes your heart melt every single time.

It was a gloomy Saturday afternoon. You went over to Namjoon’s place to hangout with him and your boyfriend. Upon your arrival, Hoseok seemed too excited as he quickly tackled you down onto the sofa whilst he tickled the life out of you.

You had to beg him to stop as you ended up panting for air. You were just cuddling with Hoseok on the couch while Namjoon sat on the huge bean bag chair at the corner while you all watched the movie.

You were just drawing random patterns onto Hoseok’s clothed chest, earning soft kisses at the top of your head when you heard the doorbell ring.

All of you glanced around at each other, only for Hoseok to ask his roommate if he ordered anything.

Upon Namjoon saying no, the male stood up and made his way to the door. You and Hoseok continued watching the show while Namjoon went to answer the door. A few seconds later, you heard Namjoon’s voice calling to Hoseok from the end of the hallway but for some reason, his voice sounded a little suspicious.

You definitely didn’t expect this.

“Uh, Seok ah, you might wanna pause the movie.” Namjoon warned as you both turned around. The minute you locked eyes with Hoseok’s parents, you immediately tensed up whilst he sat up straighter in an alert stance.

“Mom. Dad.” Hoseok whispered under his breath as the two of them smiled at their son.

You could feel the tension rising as Hoseok’s body became stiff. To avoid making things worse, you carefully got up and excused yourself.

Before you could leave, Hoseok grabbed your wrist as his eyes were begging for you to stay.

“You should talk to them.” You whispered as you looked at his parents and soon gave them a small nod before you and Namjoon left them to head to Namjoon’s bedroom.

You closed the door behind you and the minute you were inside, you couldn’t help but let out a shaky sigh. Pressing your back against the door, you slid down to the ground until you were seated on the floor. Namjoon frowned as he went over to you, pulling you into a warm hug as he caressed the back of your head comfortingly.

Meanwhile, Hoseok's parents took a seat on the same couch he was in except there was a huge gap between Hoseok and his mom.

“My dear son, how are you sweetheart?” His mom smiled sadly, knowing Hoseok probably still held a grudge on her.

“I’m fine…” Hoseok said coldly, unsure of how to react.

“How’s school? Everything okay?” His dad asked.

“Yeah. I’m coping okay. Nothing out of the ordinary for me as usual.” Hoseok shrugged as he looked everywhere but his parents. Just then, his mother was the first to apologize.

“I’m really sorry for the way I acted that night… I… I wasn’t thinking.”

Hoseok finally looked at his mom with a deep frown on his face.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I shouldn’t have treated Y/N that way and that I shouldn’t have made those threats to you and her when I should be happy that you found love and that you were genuinely happy to be with her… I’m so sorry, dear.” His mother started to tear up as Hoseok’s heart immediately softened for her.

Of course he couldn’t hate her.

He could never hate his mother.

So when she began to cry, Hoseok scooted closer to hug her, rubbing her back soothingly to calm her down. His father simply smiled as he patted Hoseok’s back a few times for he wasn’t a man of affection. No doubt, he still loves his family dearly.

A few minutes later, Hoseok pulled away from his mother, only for the lady to sniffle and ask, “Can I see her? I want to see the girl who’s been making my son so happy.” She smiled as Hoseok nodded.

He soon got up, making his way to Namjoon’s bedroom. He gave it a few knocks before opening it, only to find Namjoon and you seated on his bed facing each other, placing a game of rock paper scissors. You were just laughing at Namjoon’s mistake when you heard the door creak open and soon, you met Hoseok’s soft eyes.

“Hey…” Hoseok said as he stepped inside briefly to walk to you and Namjoon.

“How’s everything?” Namjoon asked with a weak smile, only for Hoseok to speak up.

“We made up…”

“Oh? That’s amazing.” Namjoon sighed in relief but then Hoseok looked at you and placed a soft hand on your thigh.

“But now my mom wants to see you.” Immediately, your breath hitched in your throat.

What if she still hates you?

Hoseok could sense your worries so he squeezed your thigh softly and soon reassured you that if anything goes wrong, he’ll be there to protect you. With his words of affirmation, you both finally left the room with Namjoon flopping onto his bed.

You walked behind Hoseok while he laced his fingers with yours. The minute you came into the living room, you locked eyes with his mother and for some reason, her words from that night came haunting you back.

You unconsciously hid behind Hoseok and his mother saw this.

However, the frown on her face couldn’t easily be mistaken for anything else. She knew she would leave this effect on you, but maybe not to this extent. And for that, she feels bad.

Seeing how you wouldn’t budge from behind him, Hoseok gently tugs you forward while he whispers to you, “It’s okay… I’m here…”

This was enough to give you some moral support as you carefully sat down on the couch beside his mother.

“Hi dear, how are you?” She asked as you saw a brand new tear threatening to roll down her cheeks.

“I-I’m good, Ma’am.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not here to yell at you… I’m here to say sorry. I know what I said to you that night wasn’t right. And I know that I can’t take back whatever I said. And I totally understand if you don’t forgive me. All I wanna say is thank you for making my son happy. I can see that he truly loves you. I’m sorry once again.” She smiled as the tear finally rolled down her cheek.

All the while, you were still holding Hoseok’s hand as he sat closely behind you but his fingers were laced with yours on your lap while his right hand gently caressed your sides to calm your nerves down.

For some reason, you could see the sincerity behind her apology. Which is why you reached for her hand afterwards and spoke up.

“I forgive you.”

His mother stared at you in shock, surprised that you forgave her despite all the things she said to you.

“You… really forgive me?”

“I understand that all you wanted was the best for your child. And I couldn’t blame you for that. But apart from that, I’m thankful that you finally approve of my relationship with your son. I love him so much but I dread to see him being torn apart from his family.” You said.

His mother couldn’t help but cry harder as you offered her a hug to which she openly accepted.

You rubbed her back to soothe her nerves only to hear her say, “Hoseok did an excellent job at choosing the right girl.”

You pulled away to find her smiling at you before glancing past your shoulder to look at her son with a look that Hoseok seemed to understand. His parents soon took their leave, while you went back to join Namjoon after saying goodbye to Hoseok’s parents.

Hoseok was just standing by the door to say bye to his parents when his mother cups his face and whispers, “Don’t lose her, no matter what people say. She’s a keeper.”

With that being said, she kissed his forehead and soon left.

Hoseok couldn’t agree more with his mother’s sentence, knowing that he would never let go of you that easily nor would he lose you because of other people’s words. He won’t ever let those things happen.

And that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

~~~

[caesthetix]

GREAT DESCENDANT — Pt. 2 Extra Bread

↪Attack on Titan series

↪content; warrior!reader, aged-up character, graphic description of violence, slow burn, season 4 spoiler

"T-Thank you, sir!"

He stuttered out and bowed a little to the soldier who gave him five loaves of bread. Though the older man did not acknowledge his gratitude at all, instead he just sneered at him, making him flinch since he was reminded of the fact that this island filled with demons.

His long feet stride out from the line, wanting to get back to where his friends waited. Today it was his duty to get the food for his companions, and it needed all of his courage to utter how many people in his family were left when the soldier asked him.

Four, it was the right answer that he was supposed to say. But he couldn't help but stutter five instead. It had only been a few weeks after they breached the outer wall, Maria, and yet he still couldn't believe that it was only the four of them now.

Each of them was grieving. Annie would now scowl a lot and buried her face in her hands, not wanting anyone to see the vulnerable look on her face. Reiner was different, he tried to act tough despite the nightmares that often accompanied him in his sleep. While him? He hid his sadness and pain deep inside his heart because he knew that someone suffered more.

You, you didn't talk at all for days as if you were just their shadows. Annie made sure that you were not hurt when he and Reiner crushed the gate. And even though you were not uttering any words, you could do your task ideally without a hitch, and that was to sneak inside with battered clothes, acting like a child who lost everything.

But maybe you were indeed lost everything, that was what he thought when he saw you just staring into spaces without any expression on your face. The bubbly and warm person that he met back then in Marley was nowhere to be found at this point and he hoped that someday he could meet her again.

When his pale green eyes fell to the familiar strands of your hair, he started to run, wanting to give you the bread for today since the sun was up for hours yet no one ate anything just yet. The shelter where all of them were hiding was an abandoned barn just outside the main city, no one knew who the owner of it was, but when Reiner found it empty, they decided to use it as a temporary house.

They just needed to survive for a few years and they could enroll in the military after that. But now they had to make a plan about what they should do in the meantime. Now they were just four orphans who lost everything from wall Maria. A few days ago a soldier gave them a form to fill out, consisting of some questions about names, birth, and the residence they used to live in before.

And that was the first time he heard your voice after weeks wallowing yourself in silence. When Marcel was alive, he told you that you needed to change your last name. Just for a disguise, it was the safest option because who would have expected if someone knew the weight of your name.

"No." You whispered out, one hand scribbling down the paper to write your name. "I am not going to lose my identity. No." There was a lingering pain in your voice that everyone could notice. "I will do anything, Reiner, but not this. This is my last name and I will lose it if someone takes it away from me."

The blonde frowned when he heard your rebellion, you seemed fine when Marcel asked you to do that back then, but now you changed your mind and he wished he knew the words that could sway you. You continued to write down your information without stopping while the boys stared at you with wonder.

Annie knew that you couldn't be forced to do something that you wouldn't do, so she just shrugged it off and focused on her paper, not wanting to spend her time filling forms if she could do it fast. She really thought Reiner would drop it after hearing your statement, but sometimes he just didn't know when to stop.

"Hey, but Marcel would tell you to do the same."

Bertolt could imagine his friend getting beaten up again at this point. But this time not from Annie, instead, he would get it from you who was now gripping so tight on the pencil that he was afraid you would stab the armoured titan inheritor on the neck with it.

"That's the thing, Braun." You gritted your teeth, avoiding yourself for kicking him on the face. And when the poor boy heard you called him by his last name, he knew that he was done for good. "Marcel is not here anymore, and you are not Marcel."

Bertolt made a note on his head that he would never want to get on your bad side. He felt a shiver down his spine at that time when you completely disregarded Reiner, and those words were not even for him. He couldn't imagine what his friend felt, must be hell for sure.

"Hey, I-I got the food for us today." Stopping on his track right in front of you. You were currently cleaning up the dust on the window, he recalled you said that you despised dirty windowpane last night, and he raised his eyebrow since he wondered how you got some clothes to clean it up with.

"Thank you, Bertolt." You gave him a soft smile, and from just that gesture he could feel his cheek burning from — goodness, he didn't even know what he was feeling right now. "Oh? You got five? How?" He was still in a trance when you threw the question, making him baffled for a second there.

"I said that there were five members in my family." He averted his eyes, ashamed to confess that to you. That and the fact he would see the sadness inside your eyes if he did so."I didn't mean to, really, b-but I only realised it after the soldier gave the portion to me."

"Oh, Bertolt." You let out a long sigh and grabbed two pieces of bread from his hand. "You know you could correct yourself after that, right?" He knew that you were scolding him, but with how soft your voice was, he just accepted it, not even once trying to correct himself. "I will give it back to the soldier, okay? You go inside, Reiner and Annie are waiting for you."

"But shouldn't you eat first?" He was concerned for sure, and despite knowing the fact that you could handle this harsh world by yourself, he was not sure if it was the right choice to let you go alone. "I can drop this off to them and I can accompany you, right?"

You chuckled at this, and his pupils widened at that since it was the first time you expressed some kind of joyful gesture since Marcel's incident. Your eyes closed as you chuckled at him, he didn't know what he did to make you like this but his brain short-circuited to even think about it. He just stood there with mouth agape, enjoying the pure, melodious giggle that slipped from your mouth.

"Bertolt," And how much he loved his name rolled down your tongue was uncanny. "It's okay, I will eat mine on the way. And I can handle myself, I am going to be back before you know it! You don't have to be concerned about me." You gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and his body went rigid at that. "See you later, tell the others where I am going, okay?"

He was too frozen in the spot even when you already strolled down the street with the loaves of bread in your hand. There was no time for him to answer you, and he felt like all the words were stuck in his throat. You just touched him, that was the only thing that he could process right now.

Yes, it was nothing special since you always held Pieck's hand back then or gave a pat to the other warrior candidates (especially Porco, for as long as he remembered even though the boy seemed to dislike your presence and unfazed by it), but to him, feeling your touch like that was everything.

It gave him some kind of boost, maybe it was the warm tingle that he felt whenever you were around or the fact that your existence just screamed comfort — he didn't know exactly what caused him to treasure your touch. What he knew for sure that in the end, he enjoyed your company.

"Oi, Bertolt! Why are you standing there like a statue?!"

"S-Sorry, Reiner—"

〄

The wind caressed your hair as you wandered down the street, turning left and right to the alleyway that would lead you to the plaza. This place had been your home for a few weeks now, and you started to enjoy living here, greeting some people here and there despite how many times Reiner told you not to.

They would ask, of course, where you were from. And you always answered it without hesitation, without a pause, as if the one who talked was an entirely different person with how you always lost all the light in your face when you gave them your answer. They would sympathize, and you took their pity and kept acting it out.

You had a different approach in this mission compared to the other warrior. While they decided to keep a low profile, you were going all out and showed yourself as a victim from the fall of wall Maria. Lots of benefits coming your way with how some adults asked you to move in with them or offering you a job so you could fend for yourself.

Their offers were always so sweet, but you didn't want to leave your friends inside a cold barn with nothing to lay on except the pile of hay. You always ended up cuddling with Annie, not caring that she wanted to kick you on the face at first for not giving her enough space, she ended up liking to sleep in your embrace days after that, so for you, it was all worth it.

Maybe though, their offer about working for them could help you. There were some of them and you sure at least one of the jobs had good earnings. You could buy food for your friends if that was the case, all of you didn't have to rely on free food anymore. And so, you decided that you would go to the adult near the plaza after this, asking if the offer was still up.

"I am sorry! It was already late and there was only one bread left for us!"

Your ears caught the distressed tone that came from the alleyway near you. The plaza was empty now since it seemed like the ration already finished for the day. To know that a lot of people couldn't even have one bread to eat made your stomach churned with guilt and anger for yourself.

"It's alright, Armin. We can share it."

"Yeah, it's not like I eat a lot anyway."

There were three of them, three children that looked like they were the same age as you, and they only got one piece of bread for the whole day. Knowing that the soldier was not there anymore and the commotion already dispersed, you decided to give the bread to them instead.

Your tiny feet waddled toward them, they were currently deep in thought about how to divide the food fairly. And you were thankful that you haven't eaten your fair of bread, so now each of the kids could have one.

"Excuse me," You interrupted their discussion, three pairs of eyes immediately turned to face you. Two of them looked at you with confusion while the other one had her eyes filled with caution. "I am sorry, I heard about your problem before, and I have two extra pieces of bread that you guys could take."

The two boys, one with blonde hair and the other with short dark brown hair — looked at each other without saying anything. It was like they had this kind of bond, talking through their minds before giving each other a nod. Maybe they were debating if it was alright to accept your hospitality or not.

"It's fine, but is this bread really alright for us to take?" The boy with the ocean blue eyes spoke up, taking one step forward to your figure. "What about you then, have you eaten yet today?"

"Yes, it's fine. If not, I am not going to offer it in the first place." You gave him a gentle smile before answering his next question a little bit too quickly to your liking. "Don't worry about me! I already got breakfast before and ate mine. You don't have to think—"

"You are lying." The girl that had been silent the whole time suddenly cut your sentence. "Don't tell me I am wrong because I am sure that I am right." She didn't sugarcoat her words at all, and you couldn't understand anymore if her words mean good or bad. Because surely her onyx orbs looked at you as if you were a threat.

You closed your eyes and exhaled loudly, knowing that you couldn't lie anymore with how sharp the three of them were. But this fact wouldn't stop you from wanting them to take your fair.

"Well, yes, I haven't eaten." Surrendering yourself to honesty, you continued. "But I am going to be fine, an adult in this shop near the plaza offered me a job and food, so I could get it from them after this." You explained truthfully, handing them the bread thereafter.

"Then how come you had extra bread in the first place?" The short-haired boy now squinting his eyes, wanting to understand your hidden motive in case there were any. "You had one for yourself too despite knowing that you could get food from this adult you told us about. So why should we trust you?"

"Eren!"

Ah, so the boy's name is Eren. You thought, couldn't believe that someone would even doubt the others for giving free food. But then again, you couldn't blame them for being extra cautious. No one knew what could happen inside these walls. The worst-case scenario from this was that you poisoned them to get rid of another life to prevent any more hunger.

"You don't have to trust me, of course." You answered him with a soft and calm tone, something that you learned from your house back in Marley. That even when someone raised their voice at you, you needed to handle them with care. "My friend was the one who got the food from me, and he didn't check that he got extra food, so I am here with the first mission to give it back to the garrison soldier."

You gave them the answer that they want, both hands still pushed forward, waiting for them to take it. "Promise I wouldn't disturb you anymore, I just want to make sure you guys get enough food. That's all."

There was a long silence engulfing the four of you. That was until the blonde took the bread out of your hand and gave you a smile of gratitude, which you answered with the same gesture as him. The other two were now looking at you with a softened gaze, finally stripping away their caution towards you.

"I am sorry that I sounded rude before." The brunette started, giving you a cheeky smile as his ears tinted with a pinkish hue. "I just need to be careful around strangers, everything just messed up at this time, you know?" He chuckled bitterly, his eyes darkening as if a terrible memory fleeting through his mind for a second.

"It's fine. I know where that thought is coming from." You kicked the pebbles near your foot before, making it bounce to the wall as you looked down. "Everything is just a nightmare after the breach." And you tried so hard not to break down, not in front of anyone, especially those who were the victim of your action. "All of you — didn't deserve any of it."

Your voice that was so warm and comforting before now turned into a completely different tone. There was sadness, at least that was what they could hear from you. They couldn't see the expression in your eyes since you persisted in looking down at your feet, avoiding their gaze at all cost.

"And you didn't deserve it too."

The blonde, that if you recalled from before was called Armin, telling you words that you thought you wouldn't need to hear. "No one wanted this to happen, no one deserved to live like this." He continued, and you were ready to crumble even more. "But this is our life, for now, so we can't do anything else but move on."

You wanted to get down on your knees, hugging his legs as you begged for forgiveness. Just like what you saw in some of the memories from your ancestors, there were just normal human beings inside these walls. Just like in Marley, just like on the other continent, there were good and bad people, and nothing differentiated them except the fact that they had a titan's blood flowing inside their veins.

Nothing else but that — and the dangerous truth that lies within the walls.

"It's called rumbling, right?"

Just one month from now, you were going to inherit the war hammer titan, and you have been studying a lot, reading the journal that your ancestor wrote. The book was so helpful, preparing you to know the truth that this world had to hide. Sometimes your twelve years old brain could not even understand it.

The past few years you had been training hard privately. You got the best instructor, honing your mental and physical build at the same time. But since you reached the age of ten, your father introduced you to Commander Magath who was in charge of the Warrior Unit, the unit for those titan inheritors.

And you trained with them ever since then. Creating a bond and friendship to those who would fight alongside you in the upcoming battle. The majority of them were easy to talk with like Marcel, Pieck, Zeke, Reiner, and Bertolt. While the rest — not so much.

Annie was fine though, she still talked to you here and there and taught you about some certain techniques of hand-to-hand combat that you deemed remarkably useful. Porco on the other hand, you wanted to grimace at the interaction that you had with him. Yet despite all that, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling for just thinking about him.

But this moment was not the right time to reminisce about the warrior training, not when a few months from now, you would embark on a mission to reclaim the founding titan.

"Yes, when the founding titan decided to unharden the walls and released millions of colossal titan, it was called rumbling." Your father sat across from where you were, filling out papers from the military about you. "If that happened, the whole world would turn into nothing."

You gave a nod of acknowledgement, fingers tracing the ink that seeped on the worn-out paper journal.

"So it was risky to let the founding titan stay in Paradis since no one knew if someday they would activate the rumbling or not." You stated the sentence as a matter of factly, absorbing the information that sometimes made your head pound. "It was risky since they closed themselves inside those walls and no one knew what happened there."

"Yes, my dear." His voice cracked like any other time, having so much burden for throwing you to the frontline of the battle like that. You, his little star, his precious daughter that he never wanted to turn her into a war machine that could only live for thirteen years. "That is why you need to prevent it from happening."

But it was something that needed to be done — and there was nothing that you could do except embracing the cruel truth like an old friend.

"Yes, you are right." Fixing your composure, you were back to the kind girl from before. "Thank you for telling me that, I think I need it." You chuckled softly, fingers tucking the strands of your hair behind the ear. "I-I will go now, then. Hope all of you survive and continue on living!"

Bowing yourself a little before departing (a trait that you couldn't shake off that easily), you waved at them and turned your heels, walking away from the three children that you really hoped would have a beautiful life ahead, for as long as they could have.

"Wait!" But you halted your feet to move forward when you heard Eren's voice calling out for you.

"Yes? What is it?" You were still not that far from them, so you decided to use your normal volume as if they were still right in front of you.

"We haven't got your name!" Yet despite how calm you were, the boy seemed to choose to shout at you anyway. "I am Eren! This is Armin and Mikasa, they are everything that I had left! Now, what's yours?!"

Hearing how excited he was made you giggle, such a complete opposite for real compared to him a few minutes ago when he looked at you with caution. Now he became the child he was supposed to be, with a wide grin on his face as he just wanted to know the name of his probably new friend.

And so you indulged him with it, answering his question with a clear and solid tone.

"It's (Y/n)!" You decided to shout back, equaling his enthusiasm. "(Y/n), (Y/n) Tybur!"

Paradis Citizen(s)

↪@yumaryko ​@may-machin @cuteissei

↪Back to Great Descendant Masterlist OR Wall Maria

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

[txtdreamss]

the boy who has everything// [f.w.]

Summary: Fred and you have been secretly going steady since the end of your fifth year. Now that he and George are making their grand exit to follow their dreams, you are struggling to come up with the perfect parting gift.

Inspired by: https://open.spotify.com/track/37hblhCnC5YzhDQH58Rgpi?si=0EISnLcTRE2mctlIXNObTA

Warnings: Angst, Malfoy!Reader, difficult home life, neglect mentioned

A/N: Currently going through a bit of a writers block that definitely came from school, but I thought something to do with my fav boy would help clear my mind. Just want some input from ya’ll, would you be interested in me starting to take requests? Also, low-key miss having mutuals before I decided to completely start over lol. Also, why does ‘each other’ look wrong to me? Like I am a native English speaker but the words just like sus...

Word Count: 2.2k

    The numerous differences between your childhood and your boyfriend’s were anything but subtle.

    Growing up, you felt as if you were a puppet being dangled for the world to see. Your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was a complex woman; She obviously loved you very much. She held you, but never longer than it took to keep your tears at bay. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, was your father in blood only. His disdain for your lack of enthusiasm regarding blood purity was obvious. He had never once in your 18 years on Earth said ‘I love you’, or even a simple ‘I’m proud of you’. Until the day came where you were willing to take the dark mark and fight on behalf of Lord Voldemort, you would be nothing in your parents’ eyes besides a test child before Draco’s birth.

    Now, from what Fred had told you, his childhood was seemingly filled with sunshine and rainbows. He spent his summers wading in the pond near the Burrow, listening to the chirp of crickets and giggles of his numerous siblings. The entire family was open about showing their love in words and actions. Molly and Arthur, despite not being particularly rich, would give the clothes off their backs if it meant their children would never have to experience fear in any capacity. Fred always had a playmate, and never did he have to go through life fearing being expelled from the family home for his opinions.

    In the simplest of terms, Fred and you were complete opposites. Your similarities were found in the small things; the way you both were headstrong and loyal, and most of all...

   You both despised Filch. Fred had saved your butt from being caught in the halls after dark at the beginning of 5th year. He had decided then and there that despite the fact that you were in a different house, you simply had to be more than another member of the besmirched sacred twenty-eight. He knew from the second you were taking his outstretched hand in the dimly lit corridors that no matter what, you both were destined to be in each others’ lives. As he led you down a secret passage to the sound of Mrs. Norris’ eardrum-rattling mewls, you knew that the idea that he was just another impoverished ginger from the Weasley family was anything but true. Despite all the odds, that night was what laid down the foundations for you and Fred to become more than just another member of the family feud.

    Going on almost 2 years later, and your relationship had shifted from what was a slightly odd friendship to an unexpected relationship. Fred and George were now planning their grand escape for sometime after the Easter holidays, but you had a totally different date on your mind; April 1st.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    “Oi, Weasley! You are a whole 42 seconds late!” You giggled, and Fred simply chuckled before dropping his books next to yours.

    It was rare for Fred to be on time, but he always made an effort (and usually succeeded) for you. Due to your obvious difference in house loyalty, the easiest way you found to spend time together was to carve out 2 afternoons each week to just bask in each others’ presence. Every Monday and Friday (unless there was a quidditch match), you would meet Fred in a secluded corner of the courtyard. The two of you would goof around study, snack on some treats from Honeydukes, or simply lie back and enjoy the sunset while talking about whatever came up.

    “So, anything big happen today, love?” Fred pecked you on the cheek quickly before dropping his head on your shoulder.

    “Just the usual. Apparently, my mother has finally given up on sending me howlers to come home.”

    “Y/N, mum already said she would love for you to come and stay with us during the holidays. You could come get a feel for the family over the holidays next week, and you would finally get to see what the Weasley-Twin-Birthday-Bonanza is like!”

    “You mean watch your aunt call you George for a whole evening while asking why you aren’t a prefect? Oh, I am so in.” The ginger made a face of mock offense while dramatically huffing into the shoulder of your robes. “That reminds me, will you finally cave and tell me what you want for your birthday?”

    “Love, I don’t want anything at all. Having my gal be there for the big one-eight is more than I could ever ask for.”

    Money was no issue; Your mother had continued sending you a small allowance, most likely in the hopes that it would sway you to ‘do the right thing’. Fred had always made an effort to get you a new charm for your bracelet for your birthday, which most likely cost him a few weeks in sales, so of course you wanted to return the favor and find the perfect gift. Last year, you had crocheted him a plush lion wearing a Gryffindor-themed scarf and he had loved it. For some reason, though, you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to find him something bigger and better for his final birthday as a Hogwarts student.

    “If you say so, Fred. Just don’t complain when you open my gift and it’s a pair of socks embroidered with little kittens.” Fred simply smiled and grabbed your hand that was previously tapping on the edge of your potions textbook.

    “I’ll wear them with pride.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    “Ginny, please tell me you have some amazing idea for a gift that I haven’t thought of....” Ginny grimaced as you sunk into the wooden chair, obviously aware that this meeting you had called in the library wasn’t just to give her some advice in terms of course selection.

    “Well... um... maybe you could bring him some muggle joke products? He really gets quite a kick out of them.” The apples of Ginny’s round cheeks became rosy, and she awkwardly rubbed at the back of her neck. “I mean, no offense, but couldn’t you just ask him?”

    “I tried that already. At this rate, he will be turning 19 before I figure out what to get him...” A puff of air escaped your chapped lips, and you once again found yourself nibbling on them in thought.

    “Well, here you are, big sis! Trying to figure out a gift for your git of a boyfriend?” Draco’s familiar greasy head popped out from behind the shelf before the young wizard marched up to you directly. “Do us all a favor, give him a little ‘life sans Y/N’... Merlin knows his parents probably don’t want a child of dark lord sympathizers at their shack anyways.”

    “Shut up, Draco...” Before Ginny could attempt to soothe your anger, you had up and left the room.

    “Psh, serves her right anyways...” A resounding smack was heard as Ginny wacked the platinum-headed goon on the back with the heaviest textbook lying nearby.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    It wasn’t like doubt surrounding your relationship had never been an issue before. You often found yourself wondering if your company was putting Fred in danger, especially considering the current climate surrounding the resurgence in death eater activity. Fred had always tried to quell your worries, but sweet words and gentle kisses could only do so much. You and Fred knew how you both felt towards each other, but it seemed like the world was against you some days.

    Maybe Draco is right, he could get out of here and find a nice girl with normal parents to settle down with. After all, who wants to be known as the significant other of a Malfoy?

    A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye, but you quickly dabbed it away with the edge of your sleeve to avoid grabbing attention from any of your housemates. The only perk you found that happened to come with being sorted into Slytherin like the rest of your family was that it was far enough away that you knew Fred wouldn’t find out if you spent any time sulking about your common room. For once, the slam of the heavy dungeon doors brought you comfort instead of a nagging chill.

    Fred isn’t like me. He has everything he could ever want... All I do is create more stress for him.

    Ignoring the harsh gaze of your housemates, you slipped into your dorm and found yourself slinking to bed without so much as slipping off your robes. Pulling the emerald comforters over your head, you let yourself slip into a restless sleep.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    It was finally the day before the Easter holidays, and Hogwarts was more alive than ever. Young couples were spending their last day on campus wandering the corridors, groups of friends sat laughing and promising to write letters on what they each planned to bring back, and even some people that swore they were enemies seemed to be acting more hospitable. It must’ve been nice to not be spending the morning trying to calm your beating heart and convincing yourself that what you are doing isn’t wrong.

    “Hey Lovey! Have you finished packing yet?”

    “Well... not exactly, Freddie.” Fred’s face dropped, and he took your hand in his.

    “Is this about my aunt? I promise you won’t even have to say more than a simple ‘hello’ to her.” The mere mention of Fred’s Auntie Muriel almost cracked your tough exterior.

    “I can’t come home with you, Freddie. There is no way your family wants to spend their holiday break with the daughter of Lucius Malfoy. Look, I mean... here’s your gift. Just please promise to wait till you get to the station to open it.”

    Fred opened his mouth to argue, but you had already turned away as to avoid him seeing hot tears trail down your cheeks. You would have to be insane to go and willingly spend your holiday alone in the Malfoy Manor. There would be no family meals, especially now that all your parent’s energy went towards providing shelter for the death eaters. As you stumbled away to make your way back to your dorm to finish packing, Fred’s warm hand grasped your shoulder.

    “Please. Y/N, all I want is to be able to spend every day of this holiday mucking about with you. I know why you want to go home, and I’m telling you as your boyfriend and best friend to not do it. Just please, grant me a birthday wish... come home with me.”

    Fred drew you into his chest, and you found yourself clutching onto his striped button-up as if it would save your life. His larger hands rubbed across your back, and he pressed a small kiss on the top of your head.

    “Are you really sure about this, Fred? I wouldn’t want to make your mum and dad uncomfortable, or even your older brothers for that matter.”

    “Y/N, my love, the light of my life, just come home. If you can manage to get George to like you more than he likes me, I promise you the rest of my family will love you.” His signature smirk spread on his freckled face, and he pressed a quick peck on the tip of your nose.

    “Now, let’s go get you packed, Y/N.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    “Oi, Fred, what’s in the box?” George elbowed his brother while somewhat attempting to be quiet. The train ride was almost over, and you had resorted to using the seat opposite to the twins as a temporary napping spot.

    “I nearly forgot I had it on me to be quite honest. Do you think I should open it even though she is coming with us?”

    “She said to open it at the station, but we are obviously past that point, so please just open it!” George bounced in his seat, and Fred gave in to temptation. He unwrapped the ribbon holding the small box shut, opened the lid, and discovered a dainty chain with a circular pendant hanging on the end.

    “Is that a size reference for your-”

    “George! Shut up, you dimwit. I think it might be a mirror-glass type thing, but I genuinely have no idea...”

    “Freddie, bring it to your eye and look through it.” The twins both jumped as you rolled over, clearly no longer asleep.

    Fred brought the pendant to his right eye, squinted, and his immediate smile couldn’t be contained. When held at the right distance, he could see a small picture of you and him from your first date at Hogsmeade. He was much more lanky and awkward looking, and you were almost matched in height. The smile you both shared in the photo warmed his heart to no end, and Fred found himself having to gather his emotions from the memories he had of that day. 

    The ginger all but leapt to your side of the cart, and he wrapped his arm around your still-sleepy figure. He squeezed you tightly to his side before leaning in to whisper something in your ear without allowing George to hear.

    “It’s perfect, my love.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Post-fic A/N: I hope this was a good read for you guys! I am definitely on the verge of passing out, but proofreading is superior to sleep (jk). Anyways, if anything comes to mind, don’t hesitate to reach out or send in an ask! I love interacting with you guys, even if it is just a brief hello! :) ~

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Cyberpunk 2077 Literary Analysis Pt 7: Leave me Alone, Hemingway, You’re Supposed to be Dead

Surprise bitch I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.

Cyberpunk spoilers ahead!

Cyberpunk meta literary analysis masterpost here 

Okay, so I thought I would be done with this, but it kinda feels like Hemingway has me by the left asscheek and won’t let me go as of late. So here we are: Cyberpunk literature meta-analysis part 7: For Whom the Bell Tolls

Hemingway comes up a few times in Cyberpunk, too many times to ignore. It’s not surprising, really. We know that Johnny is actually a pretty well-read guy from some of his passing comments, and if I had to guess, he’d probably really connect to Hemingway. In fact, if you play Johnny’s ending with Rogue, the final quest is called “For Whom the Bell Tolls” (which is also cool since it keeps the theme of all the missions being song titles, as this is also a Metallica song). But for once, this analysis isn’t entirely about Johnny or V. Hopefully this rings a bell (pun intended), as we’re very explicitly told who else really connected to Hemingway.  

Jackie Wells.

During the quest Heroes, Mama Wells will ask you to go through Jackie’s garage to find something for the ofrenda. One option is a book, For Whom the Bell Tolls by Earnest Hemingway. Misty will comment that he used to read it before a big job, and that it was important to him. If you choose to bring the book for the ofrenda, V will “read from the book” (I put this in quotes because the passage they read has actually been misattributed, it is a Hemingway quote, but not from FWTBT, rather from another of his works titled “Men at War”):

“When you go to war as a boy, you have a great illusion of immortality. Other people get killed, not you... Then, when you are badly wounded the first time, you lose that illusion, and you know it can happen to you.”

The majority of our main characters start out as The Fool, naive and feeling like they’re on top of the world, the kind of hubris that can only come with youth. Yet, like Hemingway says, it takes a bullet to give one a dose of reality.

For Whom the Bell Tolls is a story of war. Our protagonist, Robert Jordan (I’d be really interested to know if Johnny’s birth name, Robert John Linder, was inspired by this), leaves his cushy job as a college instructor in the United States to join the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War. Robert begins the novel fairly bland; he has no real friends, no real family, and he feels completely disconnected from the world. In all honesty, he’s boring. Like, if wet cardboard were a person. He doesn’t really care if he lives or dies, not because he’s a badass, but because he really doesn’t have anything to lose. No passion, no connections, nothing he loves that ties him to this earth despite the fact that he is a man of such strong convictions that he willingly joins this war. Robert is tasked with destroying a bridge, meeting comrades of varying philosophies along the way, who become a kind of found family to him. Despite going out of his way to avoid making connections, he falls in love, not just with the love interest Maria, but with his friends, finally giving him something worth fighting for, something connecting him to this life. The novel concludes as the group finally blow up the bridge (a task done in vain, since the Republican side has ultimately sustained more losses than the Fascists), and Robert is injured. He convinces the others to leave him behind so he can buy them time to escape. The novel ends just as it begins; our protagonist lying in wait in a forest, gun in hand, “heart to the ground,” on a bed of pine needles. (For more on cycles/mirrors/reflections, see here).

While there’s a much larger political message here that could parallel the themes of Cyberpunk, I want to focus more on the philosophical side, as it ties in with my previous analysis much more coherently. The biggest theme of this novel is about how interpersonal relationships are what matter most in this life, which is summarized very nicely by the poem by John Donne which not only lends the novel it’s name, but serves as it’s opening epitaph:

No man is an island,

Entire of itself.

Each is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Europe is the less.

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thine own

Or of thine friend's were.

Each man's death diminishes me,

For I am involved in mankind.

Therefore, send not to know

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for thee.

This poem and the overall meaning of the book work on two levels. The most obvious is that we all die one day, that mortality is fleeting. But on another level, No man is an island. Our identity is tied within our communities, those that love us, and those we live for. “Therefore, send not to know/For whom the bell tolls/It tolls for thee.” Each time a person dies, a piece of all those who loved them dies with them. Funerals are not just for the deceased, but for us, a chance to bury the pieces of ourselves that died with them. “Each is a piece of the continent/Apart of the main/If a clod be washed away by the sea/Europe is the less.”

Johnny is incredibly similar to Robert Jordan. Despite knowing a lot of people and having a lot of connections, Johnny is not particularly loved, and that feeling is mutual. He even tells V that they are the only person who knows him that that doesn’t hate his guts. Both Robert and Johnny are men who base their morals and identity solely on principal and ideals; standing up for what is right, fighting against oppression, rebellion, but that passion is not borne from interpersonal relationships and connections. It is made of hate of the world, not love of their fellow man. This leads to one of Johnny’s fatal flaws; he did not fear death, because he did not feel as if he had anything to lose. He was consumed and driven by hate, not love, leading to all of his failed relationships. Had Johnny something to lose, he may not have taken all of the stupid the risks he did, acting as if he did not care about his own life.

V, in many ways, parallels Maria, Robert’s love interest in the novel. While Robert salvation lies in the love he has for all of his newfound friends, the main focus is on the love interest, Maria. Here’s an interesting bit of dialogue between Maria and Robert:

"Now, feel. I am thee and thou art me and all of one is the other. And I love thee, oh, I love thee so. Are you not truly one? Canst thou not feel it?"

"Yes," he said, "it is true."

"And feel now. Thou hast no heart but mine."

"Nor any other legs, nor feet, nor of the body."

"But we are different," she said. "I would have us exactly the same."

"You do not mean that." (20.66-71)

In this moment, Robert and Maria are talking about how they feel as if they have fused into the same person, as if they share a body. Yet there is a key difference in how they view their relationship: Maria wishes that they were exactly the same, while Robert states that she doesn’t mean that. Similarly, while Johnny seems to enjoy the growth he and V provide one another, his greatest fear is V/himself being changed into something they are not. Hmmmm….

Johnny and V are very different people by the end of Cyberpunk, finding meaning in relationships just as Robert has. For V, this means Judy, River, Panem, Kerry, Misty, Vik, etc. And for Johnny, this means V, and by extension, all of the people who make up V’s identity through their love and friendship. Despite dying and rising again as lines of code, V is able to finally show Johnny what it means to be human. His journey, I believe, can be accurate summed up by this quote from the novel:

“This was the greatest gift that he had, the talent that fitted him for war; that ability not to ignore but to despise whatever bad ending there could be. This quality was destroyed by too much responsibility for others or the necessity of undertaking something ill planned or badly conceived. For in such things the bad ending, failure, could not be ignored. It was not simply a possibility of harm to one's self, which could be ignored. He knew he himself was nothing, and he knew death was nothing. He knew that truly, as truly as he knew anything. In the last few days he had learned that he himself, with another person, could be everything. But inside himself he knew that this was the exception. That we have had, he thought. In that I have been most fortunate. That was given to me, perhaps, because I never asked for it. That cannot be taken away nor lost. But that is over and done with now on this morning and what there is to do now is our work.”

In addition, Robert’s final conversation with Maria as he is convincing the others to leave him behind so he can buy them time to escape is nearly identical to Johnny and V’s final conversation:

"Listen to this well, rabbit," he said. He knew there was a great hurry and he was sweating very much, but this had to be said and understood. "Thou wilt go now, rabbit. But I go with thee. As long as there is one of us there is both of us. Do you understand?" (43.319)

Here, Robert is telling Maria that because they are the same, only one of them needs to survive in order for them both to live. Compare that to what Johnny tells V:

V: For fucks sake, defend yourself! You’re not even trying!

Johnny: Hmm…sounds kind of familiar. We know that attitude. See, V? Stayin’ with you whether you like it or not.”

This scene is further paralleled by the fact that V crosses a bridge to reach Mikoshi, which is set to be destroyed, just as Robert was tasked with destroying the bridge. Furthermore, in the Suicide ending, the overall theme is about how V “never realized just how many friends they had.” Friends who, in all other endings, were willing to die for V, as losing them meant a piece of themselves dying with them. Similarly, Robert considers killing himself as his friends escape, as the pain of his injury becomes too much to bear. However, he is comforted knowing that his sacrifice will mean that they live, telling himself, "I don't mind this at all now they are away.” Despite now having something to live for, like Johnny, they are still able to brave their deaths as now they have been given meaning. And not just any meaning; love. No longer hate, or rage, or blind idealism. Love. 

This is the overall message of Cyberpunk: maybe you won’t change the world. Maybe you won’t win the war. Maybe your sacrifice isn’t going to change history. Maybe, in the grand scheme of the universe, you don’t matter, and you won’t ever be a legend. But you do matter to the people in your life. No man is an island. We were made to be in each other’s lives, to love one another, to change one another for the better. And that’s what life is all about.

[oohnoniall]

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter One (Anastasia)

WARNINGS: cursing.

       The Grisha were puppets. She could tell that from the way her father had them paraded before him. No one should be treated the way they were and yet, it was the safest they had ever been. She had not grown up in a time before the Darkling. She had only ever known him to reside over the Little Palace. He kept the Grisha safe.

       That didn't stop them from having to perform great feats at the winter fete every year. She had been in attendance every year since she was six.

       She still remembered that first one clearly. It had been the first time she had been presented to the court. Her mother had actually come to her room, getting her ready to be shown off like a prized horse. It was the first time she had been allowed to wear a tiara.

       Nikolai had teased her for it the entire night. He still teased her for it.

       "Annie," a voice hissed to her right. Her eldest brother looked proud in his jacket, his medals pinned to his chest. They showed that he had claimed something in his year of service. Even if she was certain that it was not a brain. "Get your head out of the clouds."

       Vasily had never exactly been close to Anastasia. He had always been more focused on learning how to run Ravka, how to be the king that their country deserved. He had never paid much attention to her as Nikolai had. He hadn't paid Nikolai much attention either. Vasily was less their brother and more an acquaintance.

       Yet he was all that she had.

       Nikolai had left three years before to study and to serve in the military. Anastasia had written him daily letters for the first year, weekly the second. Now, she was lucky if she wrote him monthly. He didn't answer the letters. Too busy with his studies, with forgetting all about the life he had lived back home.

       Forgetting Anastasia.

       "My head is never in the clouds, Vasie," she huffed as she straightened her spine. She found it somewhat hard to breathe in her gown. Her corset was too tight, her mother had said her waist needed to be smaller and her maids had apparently agreed. Despite the lack of oxygen, there was no denying that the gown was beautiful. It was a shade of cream that matched Vasily's jacket perfectly with sky blue lace detailing on the bodice and matching blue flowers embroidered along the hemline.

       It was not the prettiest gown she owned, but it was one of her favorites. If only because she liked that she stood out just a bit from her family. Her mother's gown would be plain, letting everyone focus instead on the Lantsov emerald that would rest on her left hand. Her father and brother would both be sporting their military jackets, the pins and medals gleaming in the light. If Nikolai had been there, he would have at least been the one to escort Anastasia.

       Instead, her arm was linked with Vasily's. A bored smile crossed her features, taking away the seventeen-year-old's normal vibrancy. She despised the winter fete. The past three years had all been more disappointing than the last.

       It had nothing to do with the Grisha. But it had everything to do with the fact that she had no one to speak with. No one to confide in or giggle with when the night grew boring. Life without her brother had become stale, boring even.

       She sighed softly, trying to push out all those negative feelings as Vasily began to gently pull her out of the small antechamber. Her heart pounded in her chest. A four-eighths rhythm that seemed to skip the second beat. She wondered what it would sound like as an aria.

       "Presenting His Highness Crown Prince Vasily Lantsov and Her Highness Princess Anastasia Lantsov," a booming voice announced to the waiting crowd of nobles and rich merchants that surrounded Os Alta.

       A small smattering of applause greeted them, as it did every year. They were not the show though. They were merely just important guests, visitors to the show of something amazing. Something that none of them were entirely prepared for. At least, not yet.

       "Mingle," Vasily murmured in her ear, not bothering to bend. The two were only mere inches apart. A fact that Vasily hated and Nikolai had found humorous. "Just don't wander far from my sight."

       "And if I don't?" She did not move to raise a brow or do anything that might cause alarm. She barely moved her lips as she spoke. Speaking with Vasily just meant keeping it quiet and not allowing anyone to hear.

       "Then you'll never make a friend that isn't Nikolai." Despite their lack of a relationship, he did care for his younger sister. He cared for his brother as well. Although that relationship was far more strained. Not even Vasily could ignore the rumors surrounding his siblings. Anastasia, however, would never be a threat to him getting the throne upon their father's death.

       She gave a very slight nod of her head. If one happened to see it, they would merely assume she had just shifted her stance or something of that nature. They'd never realize that she had agreed to do something for him. Even if it was as simple as mingle with those who gathered with them in celebration of the second army.

       Her brother released her arm, allowing her to slip free from him and into the crowd. She would not leave the room. She knew better than to cause Vasily a heart attack. Had Nikolai been there, she wouldn't have had to worry about any of it. She would have been able to do as pleased. He'd just follow after her, his charisma hiding the fact that he was threatening people or watching over the sister he'd never asked for.

       Soft laughter, low tenors mixed with high sopranos, filled the air with a gentle melody. One that Anastasia could feel tingling in her bones and in her heart. The melodies of life in Ravka had always seemed to flow through the princess. She just hadn't said a word about it to anyone. Her mother had only ever been told she excelled in music lessons.

       She had strived to excel in everything though. Anything to avoid being sent off like her brother.

       "Princess," a tall young man stepped in front of her, blocking her from moving forward. He bowed at the waist to her, his left arm going behind his back in a sign of respect. His dark, blue-black hair fell into his face in the softest of waves. Briefly, she thought about reaching out to run her fingers through them. "I was certain we wouldn't be graced with your presence this evening."

       "And why exactly is that?" Her tone was soft, lilting and pretty. If she added a bit more breath it would sound more like a song.

       "There's a rumor that your parents sent you to Fjerda a week ago," he admitted as he straightened his spine. His eyes were bright, only a few shades darker than the Lantsov emerald. She wondered how many women he had enchanted with his eyes alone.

       Anastasia forced a gentle laugh to leave her lips as she looked at the man. "I'm afraid I will not see Fjerda for a few more years. Although, my departure date is not to be common knowledge." Her eyes glinted in the light, matching the sky blue detailing on her dress.

       "Of course, your highness," the man nodded his hand once. "Might I have this dance with you?"

       She considered it for a moment. A dance didn't mean they'd be courting. Nor did it mean she would be respected. Everything was so political nowadays. If she did not do the right thing, she would create a scandal. However, most of the time it felt as though if she breathed wrong she would cause a scandal or trouble of some sort. It was all quite exhausting if she were being honest.

       Slowly, Anastasia took the man's outstretched hand. "Of course."

       He led her towards the small dance floor. The winter fete was not a place for dancing. But her mother had thought that it would be nice to have a bit of a dance. She was certain that it had only been in case Nikolai or Vasily had caught sight of a woman that might one day become a queen. Or at the very least it made for a good chessboard.

       "What is your name?" She asked as he placed on hand on her waist. She could feel eyes on them. She was certain his family was watching closely, certain that her brother was preparing to protect her honor.

       "Dima Antonov," he said as the music began to swell. He led her through an intricate waltz. One that she had danced a million times. It was practically drilled into her feet.

       The music spoke to her in a way that nothing ever had before. She loved the way it made her feel as though she were floating on air. Every rest was like holding her breath, the crescendo was the beating of her heart as Dima twirled her across the floor. Her gown floating around them as though there was nothing holding her onto this plane of existence. She could fly away, farther than any bird.

       "You're an incredible dancer," his voice brought her back down to the earth. Gravity pulling against her limbs and her hopes.

       "Oh?" An amused smile crossed her features. "You're not so bad yourself."

       A glint of something was in his eyes. She could not tell if it was amusement or something darker. She prayed to the Saints that she would not have to deal with a pining lordling with dreams of becoming king. It wasn't as though the throne would ever fall to her. Yet, some of these lordlings seemed to believe that they would inherit the throne upon marrying her. Her betrothal didn't seem to matter to any of them either.

       Why would she marry a backward Fjerdan when she could have a good, honest Ravakan? Honestly, the whole thing was rather dull.

       There was nothing that could be done about her marriage. Contracts had been signed long ago. Although, the Fjerdans were not holding up their end of the bargain particularly well. It seemed as if they assumed they could do whatever they wanted to the Grisha and get away with it. It seemed as though all they cared about was getting another country to trade with them. Something that her parents also wanted.

       "Thank you, your highness," Dima broke her out of her thoughts as he dipped her in time with the music. Her long flowing hair nearly touched the floor as strands began to fall from the mess of braids that her maids had put it up in. Her heart skipped another beat as she stared up into his eyes.

       Love was such a trivial matter to her and yet, she found it hard to not be wooed by bright eyes and a dazzling smile. She was just a girl after all. A girl with hopes, dreams, ambitions.

       Dima's dazzling smile just happened to be distracting enough to keep her mind off of her ambitions.

       "I've heard that the Princess of Ravka was a sight to behold, but I didn't expect the rumors to be true." He admitted as he gently pulled her back up. She found that she was pressed rather closely to the young man.

       "I take it that this is your first winter fete?" One of her eyebrows rose just a fraction of a centimeter, barely enough for anyone but the man standing in front of her to notice.

       "I've been spending my time with the First Army. My father is a general," he admitted as he stepped back enough to make their dance proper once more. "I've finally been allowed leave and thought I would spend my time is Os Alta."

       "And this has nothing to do with our new Sun Summoner, does it?"

       "Nothing at all," Dima's lips quirked in a handsome smirk. One that sent heat racing to Anastasia's cheeks. She fought down her blush, not wanting a soul to know her feelings.

       Her mother had once told her that she was an open book. Her emotions were easy to read and easy to figure out. Her mother had made sure that she knew it was not a good thing. Beauty was what mattered. At least, until she had done what she needed to. Then she could worry about falling in love and being in love. Until then, she had to focus on the Fjerdan prince and providing an heir when the time came.

       Anastasia's life was nothing more than a game of chess. She just didn't know if she was the pawn or the queen.

       The music slowed to a stop, her heart still kept the steady beat of the waltz. If only to keep it inside of her for a few hours more. Dima stepped away from her, bowing his head politely.

       "Thank you for the dance, your highness," he took her hand in his and raised it to his knuckles. He brushed his lips against it once, before he slipped away, disappearing into the crowd and out of her life.

       She knew better than anyone that it was easier to dance with royalty than actually spend time with them. It was one of the reasons why Nikolai had been her only friend for so long.

       Anastasia did not allow for this to keep her sedated for long. Instead, she slipped away into the crowd. Her eyes searched out Vasily, who was drinking something that was not water while flirting with a lord's daughter. One that he had been speaking with for nearly a year now. She was expecting a courting announcement any day now.

       Vasily being preoccupied was a blessing to her. She could escape from his supposedly watchful gaze and find something to do that was not fawn over the Grisha and what they could do. It wasn't like she hated the Grisha. She just thought that they didn't need to be put on parade. There was no reason for them to be a sort of sideshow.

       Anastasia slipped out of the throne room of the little palace. The noise of the music and the endless chatter allowed for her to be silent, despite the harsh clicking noise of her heels on the tiled floors.

       She could not lose herself completely in the crowd. Others moved out of the way for her, occasional bows were thrown her way while others tried to speak with her about some piece of political jargon that she didn't particularly care about. She was certain that they were only speaking to her because they thought she had her father's ear. It would be quite a shock to them when they realized that she didn't. She had no say in anything political. She was not allowed in council meetings.

       All she was was the pretty princess. The one they could trade for marriage and gain political allies through. It was quite aggravating if anyone were to ask for her opinion. Which they more than likely wouldn't. No one ever did.

       She kept her head held high, her chin pointed just slightly to show she knew who she was and what power she held, as she walked down the hallways and through the crowds. She rounded a corner, her brow furrowing as she noticed something out of the ordinary.

       A man in a guard's uniform. A man that she did not recognize.

       Anastasia knew every guard in the palaces. She had trained with much of them under Nikolai's orders. They had treated her with respect and constantly allowed her to win while also ignoring her horrid aim. Seeing someone new at the winter fete? That was quite unlikely.

       "Excuse me," her voice was soft, barely carrying above the noise of the music and idle chatter. Yet, anyone who knew the royal family would have stopped at her voice. The man kept walking for two steps before realizing his mistake.

       Something was very wrong in the Little Palace. None of the guards should have continued walking. Not even the freshest of faces would have made that mistake.

       She could tell that the man was cursing his mistake as he turned on his heel. There was a look in his eye. A glint of rage, of anxiety even. She would never wish to be the one that rage was directed against. His blue eyes seemed to stare into her soul, drowning her as though it were the depths of the sea or the Fold. His cheekbones were high, sharp enough that they might cut her if she were to touch them.

       She ignored the thundering in her chest, her four-eighths time had become a sixteenth. Fast, quick, ready to jump into her throat.

       The fact that his rage soon melted into the look of one of a new recruit did not help. His features still made him deadly, despite the innocence that he had schooled into his features. Anastasia was someone who wore a mask every day of her life. She had gotten rather good at figuring out who was faking things. She had found different ways to discern who wore a mask and who wore their true face. It was normally in the eyes, in the quirk of their lips, the slightest motion of the eyebrows. There was always a tell.

       It didn't matter who wore the mask.

       "Your Highness," he bowed somewhat awkwardly. It was almost as though there was something wrong with him. Like he had been hurt before or like he found it difficult to bow before anyone. Perhaps he thought himself a king in his own right. "May I help you?"

       His Ravakan was somewhat harsh, the syllables not coming out as easily as they would for a native speaker. She didn't think that was a warning sign. If they had needed more guards, they would have looked to recent immigrants. They'd be too happy to work for the palace and send money back to their families. She just wondered where exactly he was from. The accent didn't seem to be anywhere she could place.

       It was too prim for Kerch and too gentle for Fjerda. Maybe he was from Novi Zem, but he didn't have the air. She figured she would find out later. Now was not the time to question anything as simple as where his accent stemmed from. That would be a conversation for later.

       "You're new," she said as she stepped forward. She did not step close enough to be within his personal bubble, just enough so that he could hear her without straining himself. "I haven't seen you on the grounds before." She had not sparred with him before. It was just improper for her to say so with the entirety of the court present.

       He cleared his throat once, as though he was unsure how to approach her. Or maybe just the topic at hand.

       ”They’ve had me preparing for tonight for the last few weeks,” he said it casually, as though it were nothing but the truth. It should have been. No one would have been fool enough to break into the palaces on the one night when everyone was on high alert.

       At least, that’s what they had all been led to believe.  There was no telling if this was the truth or not. No telling if they were actually safe or if they were all just pawns in someone’s chess game.

       Anastasia was prone to believing one over the other.

       ”I see,” her eyes blazed as she looked at him, not daring to back down from his soulful gaze. “Well, in any case, I like to be well acquainted with my guards, Mr?”

       ”Vanzin,” he said quickly. He no longer looked nervous, the name fell smoothly from his lips. “Nikolai Vanzin.”

       ”Nikolai?”

       ”My mother thought it would be lucky to name me after a prince,” his cheeks heated slightly, enough to make her believe the excuse.

       ”Very well then, Mr. Vanzin. I will see you later then.”

       “I’ll be here all night, Your Highness.”

       A small smile crossed Anastasia’s lips at that, a gleam in her eye that had nothing to do with mischief and everything to do with the new handsome guard. “I expect to see you on the training field tomorrow.” She did not wait for his answer as she turned away.

       Anastasia did not notice the scowl that crossed Vanzin’s face, nor did she notice as he slipped unnoticed into the crowd. Vanzin soon becoming nothing more than a ghost.

       A ghost who went by the name of Kaz Brekker.

[mistystar022100]

More Bleach x Tokyo Ghoul au

More Characters

Orihime

Orihime is a natural one-eyed ghoul with a Rinkaku kagune. Orihime in cannon has basically one offensive ability that is broken for a whole arc and then rarely used for the sake of defense and healing. Personally, I thought she could have done more so I’m fixing this myself. Her kagune has 2 tentacles that she can use for offensive. Her Shun Shun Rika will be for the healing and shield, the attacking fairy will not be used often unless she needs a long ranged attack.

The reason for her being a one-eyed ghoul is so she could still eat human food. Her weird food combinations are a part of her character and I thought it wouldn’t be right to take that from her. It also doesn’t hurt that Orihime constantly eating food is a good cover for when the ghoul group hangs out at school. The fact that her brother was a human makes for an interesting dynamic as well.

As a half ghoul she can eat human food as much as she wants. The genetic combination may have messed with her taste buds, resulting in the strange food. She can taste it but the human food gives her almost no nutritional value. She has to eat like a ghoul in order to sustain herself.

Her main ability is in her regeneration, which is high even for a Rinkaku. Even though her kagune is fairly weak and easy to cut off, they grow back very quickly. This also applies to any injuries she takes; for example getting completely flattened by a speeding car will only take her a few hours to completely regenerate from; as long as she’s feed.

Her father was a ghoul and her mother was a human. Her mother left Sora’s father, who was a human, for Orihime’s father, a ghoul. Sora and Orihime were half siblings. After her father was killed by the CCG and her mother became an alcoholic, Sora took her and moved to Karakura. Sora at first feed her dead homeless people who he would find until he was approached by Isshin and the other adult ghouls in town who took that responsibility out of his hands. After Sora’s death, Orihime became very close to the Ishida and Kurosaki families. The fathers would make sure she was feed and the kids would make sure she wasn’t lonely.

Uryu

Uryu is an Ukaku type ghoul. His kagune is used in tandem with his quincy arrows for more projectiles and the speed boast is helpful for him to avoid attacks. Since Ryuken is still unhelpful with training him as a quincy, he at least trains Uryu as a ghoul. They still have a horrible relationship but at least they see each other now.

Since all the ghouls in town are relatively close, he is well aware that he and the Kurosaki kids are basically cousins. (Are they really though cause the relations between Masaki and Ryuken have always confused me? No matter, cousins is close enough) Mostly Yuzu (Karin absolutely does not admit to helping), convinces Uryu to visit the Kurosaki household every once in a while. Yuzu calls him cousin, Karin does when she’s happy and Ichigo only calls him that when he needs Uryu to listen to him. Isshin tries to make Uryu call him Uncle but Uryu has picked up some things from Ichigo and smacks him around when he’s being annoying; he will call Isshin uncle on special occasions though.

Due to how tight knit the ghouls in town are, Uryu is friends with the Karakura teens long before the story begins. Him, Ichigo, Orihime, and Chad sit on the roof during lunch at school. He tolerates the presence of Tatsuki and Keigo but finds them both annoying.

Once Uryu learns how to sew, he becomes the mask maker in town. Considering the small ghoul population he doesn’t have to make or fix masks that often but he does get annoyed when someone tells him they broke the mask. (All the individual masks will be another post, mainly because some still haven’t been decided)

Ryuken

Like his son, Ryuken is an Ukaku type ghoul. He still despises being “the Last Quincy” but accepts that he is a ghoul. He makes sure Uryu is prepared for the hostile world against ghouls but otherwise is still distant. Later trains Yuzu in Quincy abilities but only because Masaki asked him to before her death. He later passes this on to Uryu because he is not the best teacher.

Since he works at the hospital he needed a way to keep his kakugan from activating. Through the efforts of both him and Isshin, they annoyed Urahara so much that he made them an oral medication that prevents the kakugan from activating for a time. This is why the fathers can both work in hospitals and smell blood without people suspecting them. After all no one is going to suspect a ghoul is working at a hospital.

He provides the ghouls main source of food. When a body is in the morgue of his hospital, he contacts Urahara who replaces it with a cheap inflatable Gigai. This Gigai lasts just long enough for the funeral so the stolen bodies are never discovered. He first makes sure Uryu is feed, then Orihime and then gives the rest to the Kurosaki’s. If not enough dead bodies come in for the month then Isshin leaves town and hunts while telling others he’s at a medical conference.

Ryuken’s ghoul identity is “Plague Doctor” due to his mask. He is the second ghoul being suspected of owning Karakura town. An A ranked ghoul due to his speed and projectile weapons, he is SS ranked when working with Isshin “Flame Oni”. He hates how in sync they are but tolerates it for the safely of the town.

Occasionally joins Uryu in visiting the Kurosaki’s. He only stays for a short while to talk to Isshin about whatever important things are going on, such as taking care of all the kids. Yuzu is happy her Uncle is visiting, Karin doesn’t really care and Ichigo likes to call him out on being an emotionally distant father. Uryu proceeds to tell him to shut up, sometimes leading to brawls in the living room.

Chad

Chad is a human with a Kokaku type quinque. It’s 2 gauntlets that connect through a long chain in the middle which goes over his arms and back. It makes his fullbring even stronger when using it. It was made from his abuelo’s greatest kill as a CCG Dove (a S ranked ghoul).

He carries the quinque case in a disguise bag for 2 reasons. The first is that owning a quinque outside the CCG is illegal and he won’t let anyone take his abuelo’s gift to him. The second reason is that the quinque makes his friends very uncomfortable so he disguises it out of respect for them. He uses a larger version of his high school bag to disguise it and carries it or uses the straps to wear it like a backpack.

When he moved to Karakura he saw Ichigo in the original thug beat down at the bridge. After that day, Chad was attacked by a passing ghoul who thought he looked tasty (Ichigo was preoccupied in a store). Chad got out his quinque despite never being thought how to use it but was loosing and had heavy wounds from his enemies kagune. Ichigo came back to the sounds of fighting and attacked the ghoul with his kagune. After the fight Ichigo only then realized Chad had a quinque and froze in place out of panic. Chad put the weapons away and limped over to Ichigo to help clean the blood off him. Chad really didn’t care that his friend was a ghoul, especially since said friend just saved his life.

Ichigo took Chad home and after getting patched up by Isshin, Chad became an honorary member of the ghouls. He joined them for monthly training considering he had no idea how to use his quinque and the adults would not have this rarely kind human die. He got a mask so he could use his quinque and not get recognized. He also has a costume that covers most of his body considering a half-Mexican and half-Japanese man is very easy to recognize, especially outside of a big city.

He is just the best ghoul ally. He is a very quiet individual but he will not stay silent when someone (mainly Tatsuki) is insulting ghouls in front of him or his friends. For a man of few words his words can sure pack a punch.

Tatsuki

Tatsuki is a human and doesn’t have the best image of ghouls. After Masaki’s death and Isshin being lost in his grief, a ghoul came into town and killed Tatsuki’s father. Ryuken “took care of” the offender and was the reason Isshin got off his ass.

Since beginning high school, Tatsuki has been in a CCG program over the weekends. She adds on to her pre-existing martial arts skills and is working her way up to learning quinque combat. Her quinque would be a bikaku that is a serrated edge sword and can stretch into a whip when needed. The whip is used to hold ghouls in place as the hooked spikes cause more damage when being taken out.

Tatsuki is still friends with Orihime and Ichigo. Orihime is her best friend and they share dinner quite often. When Tatsuki starts with the ghoul hate speech, Ichigo tells her to talk about something else or he’s leaving. Orihime kinds shuts down and starts doing something else to distract herself. Tatsuki is so caught up in her rage and grief that she normally doesn’t notice when Orihime does this. She gets frustrated with Ichigo but doesn’t stay mad at him.

Urahara

Urahara is a “human” with a vast knowledge of ghouls. He is the reason the CCG ignores Karakura for as long as it does. He hacks into the data base whenever something that might be important occurs (someone having to use their kagune and there’s a security camera nearby) and deletes the data. The CCG eventually figured out that someone is wiping the data and sends Doves to investigate the town. But that’s a whole other story arc.

Jinta and Ururu are failed half ghoul experiments that he may or may not have liberated from the CCG as kids. At first he took them to examine their DNA but he grew to love them. The weird genetics has taken a toll on the kid’s bodies; Jinta needs hearing aids and Ururu wears glasses. Urahara however does him best to keep the kids healthy.

As a man of science, he has taken the liberty of getting DNA samples of all the ghouls in town as the data on ghouls is limited to the CCG’s propaganda. He may or may not want to make his own half ghoul some day (or do it to himself); all in the name of science.

His shop sells all sorts of items that the ghouls may need. It is also the place where the ghouls have their monthly meetings. Most of the kids are suspicious of Urahara since he is clearly “human”. Ryuken and Isshin trust him though so that’s good enough for the kids, at least for now.

[harrysweasleys]

a place for us // d.m

Summary: I’d like to request a Draco x reader please, she’s the plus one to the golden trio & Malfoy actually has a crush on her since 1st year but never tells her even though she comes from a pureblood family too. In the 6th year she’s the first one who noticed how drastically Malfoy has changed and decided to investigate & that’s how she founds him in the room of requirements and they just bonded, Draco really opens up to her and they meet in secret every night plus a kiss in the end maybe? Thank you

Warnings: none 

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: dudes i’m so close to 600 followers i love you all. thank you so much for sticking by my work. also so very sorry it’s taking me ages to get around to these requests. writer’s block, ya know? but, enjoy!!!! xoxo 

— —

As you watched Draco pick absentmindedly at his quill during Potions, you knew something was wrong. He had been acting off all year. Maybe he wasn’t a fan of Potions now that Slughorn was the Professor, but this didn’t excuse why he had been sulking the entire first month that school had returned. 

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice caught you out of your trance, causing you to snap your head in his direction with a startled expression. You suddenly became dizzy, needing to blink rapidly to regain control of your head.

“Yeah?” you asked, pretending like you hadn’t just dozed off while staring at Draco for nearly five whole minutes.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “We’re partners for — you weren’t paying attention, were you?” The clear disappointment on his face made you feel awful, but you couldn’t help it. You were intrigued by Draco’s lack of boasting. For five years now, you had spent classes with him where he had spent the entire time bragging about his status and wealth, and now he was just silently sitting at the back of the class, head in his hands and his mind clearly distracted

“I was too,” you snapped back, furrowing your eyebrows and turning to face Ron and Hermione, who were also paired together and beginning to jot down instructions.

“Then,” Harry leaned his elbows on the table and stared you down, “what potion are we making?”

You squinted, trying to think of what you had picked up from the short time you payed attention to Slughorn, “Draught of Living Death?”

Harry groaned, “Lucky guess.”

You grinned, proud of your shot in the dark, and stood up to collect the ingredients, bringing your copy of Advanced Potion Making with you to search the stocked shelves.

As you turned around to go back to your desk, arms filled with ingredients, you nearly crashed into a body.

“Oh, I am so sorry—” you grimaced, wanting to smack yourself over the forehead for being so clumsy. Luckily, you hadn’t dropped any ingredients, but you felt like a fool nonetheless.

Draco smiled softly down at you, “My fault. Didn’t notice your arms were full.” He proceeded to maneuver around you and collect his own ingredients, gently pressing up against your arm as he did so.

You shuddered, choosing not to look back and glance at him before speed walking back to your station, where Harry was preparing the cauldron.

“You alright?” he asked, peering up at you quickly before picking at the ingredients.

You nodded, forcing yourself to continue staring down at the table to avoid looking at the Slytherin boy. Something about him was just incredibly off and despite not really being friends with him, you wanted nothing more than to figure out what was going on in that pale head of his.

When class came to an end, Slughorn deeming yours and Harry’s potion the best one in the class (Hermione scowled at Ron), you waited behind to walk with your friends, who were approaching you slowly after cleaning up their desk.

“Naturally, Ronald,” Hermione scoffed, discreetly rolling her eyes, causing you to chuckle.

“What? I’m just saying!” he argued back, holding his hands up in fake surrender, “If you drank Draught of Living Death as a dead person, you’d return to life! It’s called Living Death. So, of course, Zombie.”

“That’s what was going on in your mind during class?” you couldn’t help the bubbling laughter as the four of you exited the class, turning down the hallway with the crowd, “Charming, really. No wonder Harry and I beat you guys.”

However, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a specific blond head rushing in the opposite direction. It was rather odd, considering your next class — Defence Against the Dark Arts — was also with the Slytherins.

“It’s what’s always going on in my mind, Y/N,” Ron deadpanned, looking over to where you were now staring, “What’re you looking at?

Hermione and Harry had now stopped walking, moving out of the way of the onslaught of students, being careful not to get trampled.

You turned back to face your friends, “I — need to pee, yeah, I need to pee.”

Despite your super unconvincing voice, they nodded at you and Hermione spoke up, “We’ll meet you in Defence class, then.”

“Right, yeah,” you mumbled, waving a quick bye and taking off in the current of students, unfortunately going against the tide as most of them were heading the opposite way.

You cursed yourself for being curious. Dodging students left and right, gripping onto your backpack to avoid having it get knocked off your shoulders, you eventually made your way into the clearing, adjusting your disheveled robes before continuing on.

Looking left and right, you couldn’t find Malfoy anywhere, but you were almost certain he had taken the left corridor. So you did the same. Luckily, you avoided coming in contact with anyone, rushing down and turning the corner.

As you turned, you saw Malfoy’s figure at the end, rounding another corner up ahead. You followed him, keeping your eyes peeled for anything that could give away what he was off to do.

He was by no means a star student, but skipping class wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ for him. In the five years you had known him, you had only noticed him skip class twice and both times were due to Quidditch injuries.

Yes, you had noticed both times he wasn’t there. Not because you wanted him around, but because he usually made his presence very well know, especially around your friends — who he seemed to strongly despise, despite the fact he had never been rude to you.

You continue following him up the stairs and down more empty hallways. You had never seen the school this empty, but that was because you had never decided to take a stroll while you were supposed to be in class.

Finally, after walking for what felt like ten minutes, Draco stopped abruptly and stared at a wall. You ducked, hiding behind a statue, and peered out through the tiny window you had.

He was staring at this blank stone wall, but you knew exactly what it was. You had been there countless times the year before where Harry had held practices for Dumbledore’s Army.

Why Malfoy needed the Room of Requirements was beyond you. He had always managed to get his way with Professor Snape, surely he couldn’t be doing anything proper or good behind those doors.

You watched as he stalked in, careful to double check if anyone was near him before the doors slowly started to vanish.

It was now or never, you thought.

So you bolted.

The doors were barely able to fit you as you squeezed through, the door turning into a wall behind you and disappearing completely. You stayed quiet as you turned around, ready to face a pissed off Malfoy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Room of Requirements was completely different from how you had seen it last year. Instead of a wide open space with mirrors and books on Defensive spells, it looked like a storage room.

Chairs, books, desks, anything and everything you could think of, were piled up to the ceiling in rows. The dust was unbelievable — your throat was already beginning to tickle after your first breath.

Not only could you not see Draco, but you could barely see anything with the amount of junk that was in this room. He had probably taken off down one of the rows, but which one, you had no clue.

You decided to head down the furthest right, passing old desks and books along the way. The smell of dust and decay got stronger along the way. You had to keep your eyes on your feet to avoid tripping on scattered objects.

Once you passed an old bookcase, you heard quiet muttering. Draco’s head came into view, along with what appeared to be a triangular cabinet. His head was leaned up against it, muttering silently, his shoulders shaking and his arms lying limp at his side.

“Malfoy?” you whispered, suddenly becoming very much aware that he probably didn’t want you following him.

He spun around, eyes wide. It was hard to tell since he was naturally so pale, but his complexion seemed even more ghostly than usual.

“What are you doing here?” his expression changed from shocked to anger, his hands clenching into fists by his sides.

You stammered, trying to find a reasoning that wouldn’t make you come off as a stalker, “Are you okay?”

That wasn’t exactly smooth, but his face seemed to soften. He looked you up and down, visually calming when he noticed your wand wasn’t in your hand, nor did you show any signs of accusing him of anything.

“Is Potter hiding around the corner?” he hardened again, standing stiff and placing his right hand inside his coat as if ready to grab his wand and defend himself any second.

“No, no, he’s not,” you raised your hands, “I’m alone. I just... sorry I followed you in here.”

He slowly removed his hand from his jacket, letting it fall limp at his side once again. Despite Draco being one of the most intimidating and feared students in the school, not once had he ever made you feel out of place. You figured it was probably because you were a pureblood, and your family did have a decent status in the magical world. He would torment your friends, calling Harry awful names — even going as far as calling Hermione a mudblood.

You should hate him. Everything about what he had done screamed awful, rude, bully, dangerous, but he had always been kinder to you, softer even. And somehow, deep within your heart, you knew you couldn’t hate him.

It was annoying, really. Every time he and Harry were in the same room, tensions would go through the roof. Draco would spit insults at your friend, but turn to you and greet you or bid you a good day like a normal person.

Ron would often rant about their disastrous encounters with him in the common room after everyone was asleep, and you’d sit quietly and offer no input.

One of the moments you realized Draco was nowhere near as bad as he seemed was during the Triwizard Tournament. When Harry was under water — Hermione and Ron having gone missing as well — the notorious Draco Malfoy had comforted you. Had told you everything would be alright. That your friends would be safe.

Really, there was no way you could hate him after that.

“Why did you follow me?” he asked, eyes darting to the ground to avoid eye contact. You were honestly surprised he wasn’t angrier. He had always had a short fuse around most people.

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to word it, “I was, uh, worried.”

His eyes snapped up to you and he scoffed, “You? Worried about me? Right.”

“I am,” you pressed on, “You’re not okay. I can tell. I just thought I’d try and find out what was wrong so I could... help, I guess.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se. You did want to figure out what was wrong, but you weren’t sure how you could be of any help to him.

“Well, thanks, but I don’t need your help,” his voice had more of an edge now, clearly a sign he was becoming fed up with your presence. Maybe it was a mistake following him.

“How do you know? Maybe it’s something I can relate to. We both have a lot of pressure, being purebloods, you know,” you crossed your arms as you spoke, slightly offended by his tone of voice.

He rolled his eyes, “This has nothing to do with you. You wouldn’t understand. I can handle myself.” Although his face was hard, steady, cold, you could tell that his eyes were pleading. Pleading for someone to care, to set him free.

“I can tell you’re lying,” you approached him slightly, trying your best not to seem as if you were cornering him, “Try me. Maybe I’ll understand.”

If you weren’t close to him, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes were watery, becoming red as he clearly fought back his emotions.

“You think you would understand? You think anyone can possibly understand this?” he raised the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a dark tattoo on his forearm, the symbol immediately recognizable.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you took a step away from him, mind becoming hazy as your eyes were glued to the Dark Mark etched into his pale skin.

“You — you have the mark,” you breathed out slowly. You couldn’t fathom why he’d have it. You knew his parents were Death Eaters — hell, everyone knew that — but why Draco? What could he do while he was still at Hogwarts?

“Yeah, thanks, almost didn’t realize,” he spoke through gritted teeth, rolling his sleeve back down and finally letting his emotions free. A tear slid down his cheek as he faced away from you, frustrated at himself for being so vulnerable around another person.

You were still frozen in your spot. You thought he had maybe been dealing with depression, anxiety, pressure, fear — but never this. You never in a million years thought that he was dealing with the Dark Mark. 

“I’m so sorry,” you found yourself saying the only thing you could think of. It was true, you were sorry for him, but there was nothing that could be done. Once the Mark was on, was there even a way of removing it? It was unheard of, really. Once you pledged your undying fidelity to You Know Who, it was that or death from then on. Thinking of that, you couldn’t blame him for being quiet and distant all term.

You found yourself approaching him even more, feeling thankful he didn’t pull away, and did the only thing you could think of in the moment.

You hugged him.

Your arms wrapped around his waist slowly, noticing immediately how he tensed under your touch. When your arms were fully wrapped around him, you rested your head against his chest, hearing the violent thud of his heartbeat.

“What are you doing?” he asked tensely, his body completely rigid at the strange showing of affection.

“Hugging you,” you replied, voice slightly muffled by his clothing, “You can hug back, y’know.”

He hesitantly raised his arms and draped them around you, not fully hugging you just yet. But as his mind caught up with him, he pulled you even closer to his body, as if all of a sudden, you were the one thing grounding him to reality.

“Do you not like it? I can stop,” you chuckled humourlessly, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your rash movement. If anyone saw you hugging Draco Malfoy, your friends would shun you for life.

He shook his head, “No, no, it’s not that. I’ve just — I don’t get these often.”

Your heart broke for him, “Well, I can give them to you.”

You replaced your arms around him even tighter and he relaxed at your touch, letting his head rest atop of yours. For such a strange encounter moments before, this seemed an oddly intimate way to end up.

“Thank you,” he whispered, arms still wrapped tightly around you. You had to do a double take. You were nearly certain you had never heard him apologize before. Was this what it felt like to be accomplished?

“Don’t thank me,” you muttered, slowly pulling away from him and tugging at the hair that got caught in his buttons, “I just always find hugs make me feel better. Thought I’d give it a shot. And I know I can’t even begin to understand what you’re going through, but I am here. If ever you need anyone. Talking, listening, I’m good at it all.”

He forced a smile, cheeks more flushed with colour, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Even though you had just found out he was now a Death Eater, you didn’t fear him. You didn’t feel like you should be running in the opposite direction and warning Harry and Dumbledore. You didn’t feel like he should be kicked out, expelled or killed. In that moment, he was vulnerable, scared, human. You just wanted to help.

“I should probably head to class before Harry thinks I’ve been attacked,” you tried adding humour, but it didn’t seem to work.

Draco’s frown deepened, “I’m not going to attack you.”

“I know,” you reassured him calmly, regretting your joke, “I just don’t want Harry and Ron and Hermione to come searching. We’ll keep this a secret, yeah?”

He gazed up at you, a light smile on his lips, “Don’t exactly want the world knowing, so yeah. Thank you.”

You nodded curtly, unsure as to how to continue the conversation, “Well, I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself. Please.” You shot him a genuine smile and he returned the gesture, eyes locked on you as you disappeared from sight and out the door.

As you left the room, you let out a deep breath, leaning against the wall and processing what had just happened. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. A Death Eater. He wasn’t even old enough to do magic outside of school. Did that mean he had to do his Dark Arts in the school?

You shook your head, not wanting to dwell too much. The more you overthrought the situation, the more you’d be tempted to warn Harry. But you highly doubted Draco’s purpose was to harm Harry when You Know Who wanted to do that himself.

Beginning your speed-walk to class, you really did try to clear your mind. You thought about Quidditch, about your upcoming Transfigurations essay, and even about what topic you guys could be discussing in class, but it seemed nearly impossible considering what had just happened.

You had been so distracted by your own thoughts you hadn’t even noticed you were right in front of the class. You opened the door with a grimace, knowing Snape was bound to be aggravated as hell that you were late.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he scowled, turning all of the attention of the class on you, “Mind explaining why you’re nearly half an hour late to my class?”

Half an hour? Had you really been gone that long.

“Sorry, Professor, wasn’t feeling well,” you lied, raising your hand and placing it on your stomach, “Was thinking of going to the hospital wing but didn’t want to miss the class.”

Snape scoffed, hardly believing your lie, “Thirty points from Gryffindor. Now sit down.”

You nodded, sliding into your usual seat next to Ron, who glanced over at you with a quizzing expression, “Where’d you really run off to?”

Luckily Snape was too busy scolding Neville Longbottom because Ron was not exactly a pro whisperer.

“Just... I wasn’t doing anything. Thought I was onto something but I wasn’t. Just forget about it,” you brushed him off, turning to face the black board and taking down notes, ignoring the confused stare Ron kept sending your way.

You had promised Draco you wouldn’t tell anyone. And besides, he showed no signs of doing anything dangerous just yet. Maybe this made you an accomplice, but you wanted to gauge the severity of the situation before you ran off tattletaling to Dumbledore.

Draco may have new found power, but was he actually going to put it to the test?

You wanted to find out why Draco.

——

For days now, you had actually been meeting up with the Slytherin in secret. Whether it be the Room or Requirements or even the Astronomy Tower during warm evenings, you became someone he felt comfortable around.

And surprisingly, you had become comfortable around him too. If your friends found out, they’d kill you dead, but you were becoming better and better at coming up with lies and excuses as to why you always got back late and where you kept going off too.

You’re pretty sure Harry is suspicious of you, but he’s never shown signs of not trusting you, so that was a good thing. Hermione and Ron were too focused on ignoring each other to pay attention to what you were up to — honestly, a part of you was thankful for it.

The Astronomy Tower was dark as nightfall fell upon it once again, the twinkling stars and bright moon being the only source of light. It was peaceful, really. The only place you could really go to get away from the chaotic environment of the school during the day.

And, yes, it did make it slightly more enjoyable that Draco would accompany you here.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked, the usual question you’d greet him with.

He shrugged, “Same as usual.”

You nodded, looking out over the dark lake, “Remember, I’m always here if you wanna vent.”

He smiled slightly, stepping closer to you and leaning against the railing, “I haven’t forgotten.”

The air surrounding you was tense, yet strangely peaceful. As if you and Draco had slipped into a common ground. Unsure how to address the issues at hand, but very much aware that you were going to be there for him.

“What did you tell your friends you were doing today?” he smirked, knowing how you had started to lie for him.

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from him, “Told them I was going to the Owlery to write to my mum. Don’t know how they believed it.”

“Because they’re idiots,” he scoffed, causing you to turn around and face him with a stern glare.

“Hey, you can’t keep talking about them like that. They’re my best friends,” you defended, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. You cocked an eyebrow as he opened his mouth again, warning him not to call them any other names.

He raised his hands, “Fine. Apologies.”

You uncrossed your arms and rested them on the railing, looking back out over the starlit sky and shadows of mountains. The view from up here was gorgeous. You had the view of the entire castle, as well as the view of the scenery surrounding it.

No matter how many times you looked over Hogwarts, the view never got old.

“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” you asked, looking down to the courtyard, illuminated dimly under the moon.

“Yeah, it is,” Draco said softly. You looked over and noticed his eyes were still on you. Both of your cheeks went pink, turning away immediately and choosing to look at other things.

“I’m scared,” he said softly, pulling you attention back to him, “I think — I know — that the Dark Lord wants me to do something. Something bad; something dangerous. And I — I don’t want to do it.”

You felt your heart sink at the broken expression on his face. You knew that he hated himself for what he had become, he had told you numerous times. But it didn’t change the fact that you really did feel bad for him.

“What is it he wants you to do?” you asked, moving closer to him without even realizing it.

He shook his head, eyes wide, “I — I can’t tell you. It’ll put you in danger.”

Based on the paleness of his face, you knew you shouldn’t push it. After all, being the only one at school who knew he was a Death Eater was already putting you at enough risk. It didn’t help, either, that you were slowly, but surely, falling for the boy in front of you.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you smiled, placing your hand softly over his. You hadn’t realized he was shaking so much, but he relaxed under your touch and let out a deep breath.

“I just—” he sighed, closing his eyes, “—I just don’t want to do it.”

“I don’t blame you,” you moved even closer, placing your other hand on his cold cheek, “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I wish there was a way I could help.”

He opened his eyes, smiling softly down at you and placing his hand over yours, which was rubbing his cheek lightly, “I wish you could help too. But the last thing I want to do it place you in harm’s way.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks due to the way he was gazing down at you. He seemed to be staring into your soul and it was the most intimate moment you had ever felt.

“I appreciate that,” you whispered, realizing in that moment how close you were, “But I don’t want you in harm’s way either.”

He chuckled dryly, “Kind of late for that. I was practically born in harm’s way.”

Quite suddenly, he pulled away from you, and you only then noticed how warm he was when his distance caused cold air to surround your body. You found yourself missing the closeness, but figured his distance was probably for the best. You could barely fathom telling your friends you were talking to Malfoy — you couldn’t imagine what they’d say if anything were to actually happen.

“I know, I wish you had a choice,” you spoke up, louder this time as he kept his back turned to you, “It’s not fair.”

He shook his head, letting it drop, “It’s not. But —,” his voice trailed off before he turned and faced you, his face set and all softness gone, “I should probably go to bed.”

Your eyes involuntarily widened and you couldn’t help the clear shock on your face, “Wait, did I say something?”

“No,” he replied rather quickly, “I just need to go.” And without saying another word, abruptly rushed down the stairs, his blond head disappearing from view before you could even say another word.

You stayed there, silently in the dark, for another long while. You couldn’t understand why he had taken off so hastily. Was he scared of you? For you? For himself? Did he have a realization? What was it that had rushed him away?

You walked back to the Gryffindor common room with a sulky mood, mind whirling as to what it was that could have caused a drastic, sudden change in his mood. Draco had always been a tough book to read, often leading to him being irrational, but something told you this was more than just his normal actions. You couldn’t exactly blame him for being paranoid — he was dealing with You Know Who — but you couldn’t help wanting to know more.

The common room was quiet as you re entered. Thankfully, you wouldn’t have to deal with your friends’ questions tonight. They could wait for the morning when your head was a little clearer and you could think of better answers.

You stalked up the stairs and into the room, glad that Hermione was snoring away so it was loud enough to cover the sounds of you sliding under your sheets and putting out the lantern next to your bed.

Safe to say, it was hard to sleep that night, your head far away and your body tossing and turning non stop.

You had never been more physically and mentally exhausted as you were the next morning.

——

Somehow, you had managed to go four days without seeing Malfoy. He hadn’t shown up to class, nor to any of the meals in the Great Hall. You were worried, there was no beating around the bush about that. But you still couldn’t express your worries to your friends or they’d think you were insane.

On the fifth day, the dark heavy rain poured down and the dark clouds in the ceiling of the Great Hall during breakfast did nothing to lighten your mood.

You had barely slept these last few night, Draco being the only thing you could think of. Both worried for his safety, and worried for the safety of others, you kept an eye out everywhere you walked to see if you could spot his familiar face.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

To your great distaste, seeing Harry and Ginny finally realize their feelings for each other in the span of these last five days had made your longing for Draco even worse. Yes, your stupid heart had decided to grow feelings for him. And yes, it ticked you off knowing you’d never be able to act on said feelings.

So, seeing Ginny linking her hand with Harry’s as she joined your table for breakfast made your blood boil.

“Morning,” she grinned, pressing a light kiss to Harry’s cheek, Ron grimacing at the affection.

“Bloody hell, can you not do that around me?” he groaned, looking down at his plate with disgust as if seeing the gesture caused him to loose his appetite.

“It’s sweet,” Hermione beamed, closing her book and placing it between you two on the bench, “I think it’s nice.”

Harry and Ginny grinned at her compliment, but it went unnoticed by you as your eyes scanned the Slytherin table once more. Draco’s head usually stuck out like a sore thumb, so you’d see him if he was there.

“Ron, you’re ready for Quidditch practice, yeah?” Harry nodded towards Ron, finishing off his pumpkin juice and standing up, “Let’s get going.”

“It’s raining, mate,” Ron groaned, about to stuff the last bit of toast in his mouth.

Harry shrugged, “Thanks for pointing out the weather, let’s go.”

Hermione giggled as Ron begrudgingly stood up and followed Harry out of the Great Hall. As you watched them leave, your eyes following them to the door, your heart leapt out of your chest.

Draco was standing in the doorway, looking like right hell. His face was ghostly, his eyes sunken in and dark and his hair matted to his head.

You stood up, nearly knocking Hermione over with the force of your movement. But as you looked over at him, Hermione seemed to vanish from your view.

“Gotta go,” you said to the two girls, striding towards the entrance. Draco must have seen you, because he took off in the opposite direction, his pace picking up once he noticed you following him.

“Oi, Draco, slow your roll,” you shouted, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. You hadn’t expected him to actually stop, causing you to crash into his back and nearly stumble over.

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled, regaining your balance and hiding the flush on your cheeks. He didn’t move, so you turned around to face him, holding back a gasp when you noticed the state he was in.

“Draco, what happened?” your voice was soft, reassuring. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel like you were judging him.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, looking down to his feet, “I’m fine.”

Scoffing, you raised a hand to his cheek and placed it against his skin lightly, “You can open up to me, remember?”

He leaned into your touch, eyes closing, “I’m sorry. I just — I needed to stay away.” He shuddered as he spoke. You could tell he was trying to be as open and honest as he could without giving too much away.

“From me?” you asked, stepping closer to him and pulling him behind a pillar so you couldn’t be seen by passing students.

He nodded, “I don’t want to put you in danger if I can help it. I’m — I like your company.”

“I like your company too,” you smiled softly, “Which is why it sucked when I couldn’t find you.”

“No, like — never mind,” he waved his hands, brushing you off, “It’s pathetic.”

“Wait, no, you need to be open with me,” you pointed a finger at him, a grin forming on your lips at the redness growing on his cheeks, “What is it?”

He fidgeted in his spot, avoiding your gaze before speaking so softly you almost missed it, “I actually like you. Like, like you. Since first year, actually. And I opened up to you. And then I realized I was putting you, the one person I care about, in danger.”

You stared at him, mouth agape and face drained of colour. Had he just said he likes you? Draco Malfoy likes you? You had always had a soft spot for him — even though you shouldn’t have had one — but you never imagined he felt the same to this extent. It slowly started to make sense; why he was always kinder to you, why he felt the need to open up to you, why he wanted to distance himself after doing so.

The redness on his cheeks grew, and you could feel the heat flooding into your own. For some reason, just the knowledge of his crush had your heart fluttering away because you couldn’t deny — you had one too.

“Well, that’s good to know,” you stepped closer, “I like you too.”

His head shot up, eyes nearly bulging out of his head, “You — you do?”

“Yes,” you said, more seriously this time, “And now that my little secret is out there, you need to start taking care of yourself. I know this is scary and you don’t know what’s going on, but take care of yourself. Please. For me.”

He seemed to ponder on your words, moving closer to you, “Promise. I will.”

Almost as if your presence had done something to him, the colour seemed to have flooded back into his face and his eyes seemed to spark life once more. You grinned, pleased at your affect on him, and wrapped your arms around him.

He leaned into the hug this time, less awkward and unsure. His head nestled into your neck and his hands gripped your waist firmly, the affectionate gesture being a source of comfort to both of you.

You pulled away after a long moment, grinning like an idiot and trying your best to hide it, “I’m really proud of you for opening up, y’know? It can’t be easy and I—,”

Your rambling was cut off by his lips forcefully pressing up against yours. You were too caught off guard to kiss back, standing there stiff as a board with your mind racing to catch up to his actions. He noticed your stiffness, causing him to immediately pull away and stare at you with panic in his eyes.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he ran his hand down his face, pale as ever and the panic in his eyes growing more by the second, “Forgive me, it was heat of the moment.”

“Stop rambling,” your mind finally caught up with you to the point where you could process what just happened, “Kiss me again.”

He placed his hands softly on either sides of your head and pressed his lips softly against yours. Tingles shot through your entire body at his touch, your heart being sent into overdrive as fireworks erupted in your belly.

His kiss was soft but passionate and needy. You could tell he was desperate to cling to you as much as he could, his body pressed up against yours and holding you flush to him. His body was relaxed — this was probably the least stressed he had ever been around you.

Your hands went into his hair, his delicate kiss still sending your mind into a frenzy, even after he had pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“That was — that was —” Draco’s breathing was a little off as he chuckled, eyes staring into yours with a whole new level of adoration.

“Yeah,” you grinned, pulling your forehead away from his to look at him properly. His eyes were wide and he couldn’t fight his smile.

From that moment on, you didn’t leave his side. You met in the Astronomy Tower nearly every single night — it was a place just for the two of you. He confided in you about his feelings, his fears, worries, dreams. Anything that was going on in his mind, he told you about it.

And he loved you.

He felt like the didn’t deserve your kindness, your open heart, but he welcomed it and accepted every moment, feeling the least alone he had ever felt before.

You, on the other hand, managed to keep your time with Draco a secret from your friends for a long time. They had become suspicious, yes, but you managed to throw them off your scent and make up a storyline of what exactly was going on.

And you knew bigger things were to come. Wars, fights, probably even death. But you were going to keep your promise and stick by his side until the very end.

[nagichi-boop]

Miya Chinen - BPD Headcanons

Back at it again with the mental illness headcanons. Originally I was gonna do NPD Miya headcanons but then I also realised that Miya displays a few BPD symptoms, so I thought I’d explore that first since I am more familiar with BPD than I am with NPD.

Disclaimer: I am aware that personality disorders like bpd are diagnosed later in life. This theory is more just a casual exploration of the bpd traits Miya displays.

Spoilers ahead

Also, if Ad*m is a trigger for you, maybe skip this one because his name will come up quite a lot in this post and I will not be censoring his name for the remainder of this post.

Without further ado, here’s the headcanons!

1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment; (not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior)

When Miya’s old friends rejected him, he was deeply hurt. From then on he pushes everyone away, instead viewing friendship as a burden more than a blessing, perhaps out of a fear of being abandoned again. When he sees Reki and Langa, he is confused as to why he is suddenly reminded of his past, but my assumption is that he was secretly jealous of what they had as he was alone. Then when Reki stood up to Adam, suddenly his world changed. He started to associate with Reki and Langa more and more, him being especially interested in Reki. He went from considering Reki as inferior to being genuinely concerned about him (more on that in a bit).

Later on though, Reki goes missing and Miya begins to act somewhat cold to others (such as Langa). When he eventually sees Reki, he is deeply upset that he stopped showing up without saying anything. Despite his hurt, Miya tried to put it behind him, instead asking him to come back. Reki refuses and pushes past Miya, who yells out for Reki to wait. Then when he keeps running, he gets upset because Reki has “abandoned” him.

As an extra note, when Adam calls Miya “empty”, he gets deeply hurt by this, perhaps because it feels like the one person who respected him or had any connection with him has seemingly lost interest. Thank you Reki for stepping in ily

2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation

When it comes to his relationship with Reki and Langa, they tend to fluctuate quite rapidly. At first Miya almost despises them because of how close they are, jealous of their friendship. However after having Reki stand up for him, his attitude towards them shifts. Suddenly Reki is someone he wants to be around, someone he deeply cares about, even if he doesn’t show it very well.

When Reki stops showing up, that’s all Miya can think to ask Langa about and he seems to be somewhat cold towards Langa, whether that’s because he feels closer to Reki or has a suspicion that Langa is why Reki isn’t there. After all, Reki is the one who stood up to him, not Langa.

Then when he finally finds Reki, he is desperate to have him stay. But as soon as Reki runs off, all the good feelings towards Reki drop and Miya calls him a liar. When he comes back, Miya once again views Reki with admiration and care, to the point that he is the only one who is vocally and visibly concerned about Reki during his race against Adam, yelling at Reki to stop and begging Joe to stop the race.

3. Markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

Miya views himself as superior to others, likening himself to the hero of the story. When he loses to Langa and is called empty by Adam, however, he seems to have a major shift in perception, perhaps feeling deeply hurt to the point of feeling like he has nothing to offer. Skating is his bragging point, so to have lost to a rookie and be discarded by the person who had expectations of you - that has to do something to your self esteem.

He is shown quite a few times to let down his guard and be more humble, which shows that he doesn’t always view himself above others. For instance, when he told Reki not to skate against Adam, he did so likely out of a mix of concern and low self esteem, not wanting Reki to get hurt because of him (or at least that’s how I see it).

4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (eg, spending, s*x, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating); (not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior)

Miya doesn’t fit this criteria. He tends to think through things a lot more and actually tends to err on the side of caution a lot more than his family peers do.

5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior

Again, this one doesn’t really apply. Moving on-

6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (eg, intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

Miya’s mood can change quite frequently. Let’s take his beef with Langa for example. He starts off feeling confident, viewing the beef more like a walk in the park than an actual competition. Then when he is reminded of his past, he suddenly becomes frustrated and that’s reflected in his increased focus in the beef. When he sees Langa attempting a dangerous move, he stops, immediately calling out expressing his concern for Langa despite previously being cold towards him. Having lost to Langa, Miya becomes upset, then is angered by Reki flicking him. He then becomes overwhelmed and happy (though he doesn’t immediately show it) that Reki promises not to abandon Miya, even laughing at Reki’s antics. When Adam enters and calls Miya empty, his mood immediately shifts to intense anxiety and upset.

In just that one instance, Miya fluctuates between various extremes of emotion - anger, upset, joy - all within a relatively short amount of time.

7. Chronic feelings of emptiness

When watching the video of Miya practicing, Reki makes a comment that Miya doesn’t look happy. In fact, he tends to put on a fake smile and smug persona when actually he is lonely and hurt. The passion he had for skating has disappeared, but he continues because it’s what he is good at - the people around him can all see that. Despite that, the enjoyment has gone. But when Reki comes around and is soon joined by the others, he seems to enjoy skating a lot more and that emptiness is less frequent.

8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (eg, frequent displays of temper, constant anger, or recurrent physical fights)

Miya is shown to have quite a short fuse. I don’t really have much of an elaboration, so here’s a small list of sorts of the times he has easily snapped.

His jealously causes him to feel resentment towards Reki and Langa. Remembering his past experiences with his friends also caused him to feel more upset and caused him to be more focused on the beef against Langa. When Langa misquotes something Miya says, he gets angry at Langa, partially out of embarrassment. At the beach when everyone is fussing over Joe, Miya’s annoyance gets channeled into him sabotaging Joe though my theory is he somewhat did this because he noticed Reki was annoyed. As previously mentioned, Miya got mad at Reki for pushing him aside and abandoning him. There’s probably more examples but hopefully my point is made.

His anger never really shows up as physical aggression. It’s usually in the form of insults or showing off with his skating.

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

Once again, I have little to no evidence for this. However, it’s possible that Miya’s flashback mid-beef with Langa could have been a form of dissociation as he even comments ‘why am I remembering this now?’ But more likely this just isn’t a symptom he experienced.

x

Anyways, this post was kind of more projection. I think that even if Miya doesn’t fully have bpd, he most definitely has traits of it, the most notable features being about his fears and responses to abandonment (real or perceived).

[kpop---scenarios]

Over Time

Commissioned by: @my-loves-18

Pairing: Shownu x Reader

Warning: Mentions of Violence, Angst, Smut

Word Count: 3.8k

"You're just jealous." Your best friend, Steph chuckles, nodding her head towards Shownu with his arm wrapped around a girl. 

"Jealous of what exactly?" You scoff while rolling your eyes. 

"Hey, Y/N." Shownu yelled from across the lawn. Despite you hating him and your assumed dislike he had for you, he still tried to get under your skin. Well not tried, succeeded. He enraged you, not made you jealous. 

Pfft. 

You may be a lot of things, but jealous was not one of them. 

"You have to make a comment everytime you see him with a girl, or just see him in general, Y/N, and with me dating Wonho we're around him alot." She says. 

You know she's right, but it's not like you dislike him for no reason. You had two, and to you they were very valid. 

The first one, you hated the way he treated women. Every party you went to, his arm was wrapped around a new girl every time, when you'd see him out, he was with a new one. You'd heard plenty of girls crying in the bathroom after just seeing them together, and it wasn't hard for you to put two and two together. He was a typical frat guy, who did the typical frat guy thing of sleeping with a ton of girls and throwing them out after he was done with them. You didn't care if he slept with thousands, just treat them better. 

The second thing that made you really despise him, was the fact that he dropped a beer on you at your first frat party of your Sophmore year and laughed while high-fiving his friends, leaving you completely embarrassed. 

"Whatever, I'm not jealous. I have class." You say, giving her a small wave before walking away.

It was the first day of your junior year and you wanted this one to be the best one yet, since you knew next year was going to be your last. 

You walk into your math class, scoping out the people you would be with for the next few months, when one person in particular caught your eye. 

Kim Namjoon. 

You had seen him around campus last year, and the immediate attraction you had felt for this man was powerful. He crossed your mind off and on all throughout the summer and you made a vow that you would talk to him if he was ever in one of your classes. 

Taking a deep breath, you walk over to where he was sitting and clear your throat. 

"This seat taken?" You ask Namjoon, sliding in beside him before he can even answer. 

"No." He coughs, clearing his throat, and goes ahead. "Hi, I'm Namjoon." He says, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

Oh you know. 

"Y/N." You smile, excited to see what this year brings. 

** 

Over the next few days, you and Namjoon are unable to stop talking to each other. Your heart skips a beat everytime you see him, the butterflies in your stomach act up whenever you even think about him. 

Was this love? Is this what it felt like? Because if it was, you were here for it. 

However, everytime you interacted with Namjoon in any way, you felt like someone was staring at you, as if someone was burning holes in your back. Finally after a week, you got tired of it, turning around to see who had an issue. 

Shownu sat there with his arms crossed, eyes staring right at you and Namjoon. You could see Namjoons face become frightened as he quickly looked away from Shownu, looking almost guilty. 

"God that guy." You mumble, feeling annoyed. 

"You know him?" Namjoon asks, avoiding eye contact.

"Kinda. Same friend group. My best friend is dating his best friend." You say. 

"So you're not close with him?" Namjoon asks, looking relieved. You shake your head no, which makes Namjoon smile but for some reason, this smile felt different. It was cold and creepy, but you shrugged it off, not thinking too much into it. 

Later that evening, you sat inside the frat house, gushing about your week with Namjoon to Sarah when Wonho and Shownu walked in the room. 

"Kim Namjoon?" Wonho asked, sitting beside Sarah, wrapping his arm around her.

"The one and only." You chuckle. 

"Careful with him. We've heard things." Shownu says, plopping down on the couch opposite of you. 

"Pfft. What things?" You scoff, not believing him. 

"His last girlfriend went missing, Y/N." Shownu says. "Just be careful." He finishes, standing up and walking towards the front door. 

Your stomach dropped.

Was it true? 

On Friday you woke up grumpy as all hell. Shuffling your feet down the hall, you enter the kitchen where Sarah stands, drinking a cup of coffee while you yawn largely. 

"Late night?" She asks, pouring you a cup of coffee. 

"Yeah, I don't know. What Shownu said to me was playing through my head, but I don't know if I believe him." You tell her. 

"Just be careful. I don't have a good feeling." She tells you, with a sympathetic smile. 

**

That weekend you spent your days not doing homework, no, you spent your time googling everything you could find related to Namjoon and his previous girlfriend and what you came up with was astonishing. 

Nothing. You found nothing that linked Namjoon to any type of disappearance. You read about a young girl going missing, but Namjoons name was nowhere to be found. That was when you decided to not take anything Shownu had to say seriously. Clearly he enjoyed just fucking with you and making you panic. 

** 

Saturday night you went back to the frat house for a party, hoping to see Namjoon there, along with hoping that maybe, just maybe Shownu would sit this one out but to your luck, he didn't. 

The moment you walked in, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking around you see Namjoon staring at you. You smile at him, walking towards him but something stops you, another pair of eyes, burning into your skin. Looking up you see Shownu staring at you, his eyes going in between you and Namjoon. He shakes his head no to you, telling you not to go over there. You roll your eyes, walking to Namjoon anyways. You didn't understand what Shownu's deal with you was. He only likes to crack jokes at your expense and taunt you, why was he acting like this now that you were interested in someone? 

Sarah had told you it was because he was into you, but you couldn't believe that. There were no signs, he was always mean to you. Plus you did not like him at all. She was delusional, right? 

"Y/N. Can I talk to you?" You hear from behind you. Shownu standing there, looking worried. 

"No Shownu. Butt out." You sigh, walking away. 

You ignored the nagging feeling in your stomach as you walked towards Namjoons extended hand, ready to see where the night took you. 

** 

Monday morning you walked into your classroom, a smile on your face that you could not shake. Your night with Namjoon had gone perfectly. The two of you had gone for a walk before going to get some ice cream and then sat at a 24 hour Cafe and just talked. You talked about everything, family,  friends, school, life. It was perfect and you were falling hard. 

"Are you okay?" You hear, making you come out of your happy bubble. 

"I'm fine why?" You ask, looking at Shownu with a blank stare. 

"Just checking. Sorry." He mumbles, walking back to his seat as Namjoon glares at him, sitting beside you. 

** 

Over the next few weeks, your high of going out with Namjoon began to quickly dwindle into becoming scared of him. If you didn't call him back within two minutes he got very angry. 

"Hey , sorry I was talking to Sarah." You laugh, the phone against your ear. 

"Yeah sure. Probably fucking someone else like a whore." Namjoon spit. 

"What? No, I was literally talking to Sarah." You whisper. 

"Yeah, you better have been." He snaps before hanging up. 

 If you ignored him, he showed up at your apartment. 

Sunday night you heard a frantic knock at your door. 

Knock 

Knock 

Knock

"Open up Y/N! I know your home!" He yelled through the door. You quickly unlocked the front door, Namjoon pushing his way inside. "Why are you ignoring me!" He yells. "Who's here!? Where is he? I heard shuffling. You're probably hiding him in the bathroom, aren't you?" He yells, storming to the bathroom. 

"Im studying!" You say, pointing to your books scattered across the floor. "This is too much." You sigh. He apologizes after looking in the bathroom, the crazy in his eyes still lingering. 

The two of you weren't even dating yet and he was very controlling and possessive and you didn't want it. 

On Monday you sat at the opposite end of the classroom, away from Namjoon. You could feel his eyes burning into your skin. You turned around and saw Shownu staring at him, making sure he knew he was watching. 

"Why didn't you sit with me?" Namjoon asked, grabbing your hand as you exited the room, pulling you to a corner. 

"Look, I don't want to see you anymore. I'm done. Leave me alone." You say, walking away and feeling relieved. 

With your head down, you continue walking down the hall, accidentally bumping into someone on your way. "I'm so sorry." You say, looking up to see Shownu standing there. 

"No worries5." He smiles at you, making you smile. 

"Look.. I'm sorry I've been butting in with you and Namjoon. The dudes just not right." Shownu expresses. 

"I know. And I'm sorry for not believing you.. I told him I didn't want to see him anymore. He's scaring me." You tell him. 

You're not sure why you were telling this to Shownu. Maybe it was the fact that he had been so nice to you, so concerned about you. You weren't sure. 

"I'm glad you're okay." He says. 

"I still don't like you." You mumble, beginning to walk away. 

"Woah, woah, what did I ever do to you?" He asks. 

"Seriously? The beer poured all over me?" You scoff. He laughs. 

"That was an accident." He says. "It wasn't meant for you specifically, you just happened to be under there." He clarifies. 

"Well I don't like the way you treat your conquests." You say, crossing your arms. 

"My conquests?" He asks with a laugh. 

"The girls you sleep with and the dump." You explain.  

"Which girls are those? Because I haven't gotten laid in like 6 months." He laughs. 

"Then why are you always with a different girl? Why are some of them crying after being alone with you?" You ask, crossing your arms. 

"I do have friends that are girls. And when they're crying, it's usually because they're having issues with their own boyfriends." He chuckles. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't just fuck anything with two legs and a vagina." He tells you. "I only sleep with someone if I like them." He finishes, giving you a small wink before walking away. 

Had you really been wrong about him this entire time? Hating hkm for something he wasn't even doing instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt. Honestly you felt a little shitty for the way that you had treated him all the time and assumed how he was acting. 

Walking to your apartment, you don't feel the gaze of Namjoom on you, as he follows you, making sure you're heading there alone. 

As you walk down the street, you can faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind you. You try to peek over your shoulder to see who's there, but you can't see anyone, only your shadow from the dimly lit street lights. Your stomach is in knots as you pick up your pace, just wanting to get home and feel safe. 

You round the corner of your apartment, bolting up the stairs as fast as you can, noticing a figure behind you catching up. Your hands shake as you find the key and slide it into the lock, hoping you can make it before he reaches you. 

You knew it was Namjoon. You knew he was pissed you wanted to end things, and he knew you were scared of him and he decided to use this to his advantage, knowing when you get scared, you get clumsy. 

"Hi baby." He whispers in your ear, covering your mouth with his hand and pushing open the door to your apartment. 

You were so close. 

That evening Sarah had messaged you reminding you she would be out of town for the week with Wonho, visiting family. 

"I remembered. But judging by the look on your face you forgot and hoped she would be home tonight. Sorry baby." Namjoon whispers, stroking your cheek. "So beautiful." 

**

Wednesday. 

[7:29pm] Hey Shownu, it's Sarah. Can you check on Y/N? It's been a few days and she hasn't responded to me. I'm worried. 

[7:31pm] I'm on my way. 

** 

Shownu arrives at your apartment, his hand up ready to bang on the door, when he hears a voice. Pressing his ear to the door, quietly, he immediately recognizes the faint voice of Namjoon. You try to reply but he can only hear mumbles. You couldbt be tied up.. could you? 

Shownu juggles back and forth for a minute, deciding what to do, and ultimately he decides to go for the safest bet. He walks away from your door, pulling out his phone to call his cousin, who just happens to be a cop. 

"Hey Seo-Joon, it's Shownu. Look, I might be overreacting but…" he goes on to explain the situation and how he thinks you're being held against your will. 

"Don't worry, we're on our way. Hang tight." Seo-Joon says, reassuring him. 

A few minutes later, Seo-Joon, along with five other officers walk up the stairs, joining Shownu as he points to which apartment is yours. 

The police count down before they break down the door, three men rushing in to tackle an unsuspecting Namjoon, who swore up and down everything was consensual, while you barely sat in a chair, rope burns around your wrist and ankles and torso, showing that you had been trying to escape, your body limp and bruise. 

Shownu rushes towards you, untying you and holding you until the ambulance comes, riding with you to the hospital and not leaving your side for a minute. 

Sarah and Wonho came home as soon as they could, Sarah feeling so guilty about leaving you, even though no one could have truly predicted this. 

Namjoon had been arrested and was awaiting trial as you healed from the terrible experience. You were assured you would never have to see him again, as he was now also being looked at for the disappearance of his previous girlfriend. 

As time went on, you and Shownu slowly became closer. He visited you at the hospital often, then when you were home, he practically lived in your apartment. 

When you got better and started going out, he was always around you, if not beside you, he was close enough that if you needed him, you could call and he would hear you. 

The second frat party you attended is where he kissed you for the first time. 

You had excused yourself from the dance floor, feeling flushed and a little thirsty, you made your way to the kitchen for a drink. Shiwnu came in behind you asking you if you were okay and if you needed anything. You were leaning against the wall when he walked over to you, his body just barely pressing against yours. 

"W-what are you doing?" You ask, your throat suddenly dry. 

"Can i see something?" He asks. You nod your head yes, and he leans in for a kiss. 

You melted. 

He pulled away, smiled and walked away. 

Oh boy. 

 The next week, neither of you talked about what happened at the last party. However, that weekend you found yourself pinned against a wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he aggressively slid his tongue into your mouth. 

Shownu pulls himself away, letting you slowly slide down his body until you're level on the ground. 

"Fuck." He groans, giving you a smile and a wink before walking back to the party. You were definitely starting to like him. 

You had tried to ask him about it on Tuesday in class, and he told you to "just let it flow." 

You weren't sure what he meant, so you left it alone and went on with your week. 

That next weekend as you walked into the frat house, your body instinctively moved toward Shownu, but you decided you wanted a drink first. You smiled as tiu stared at the wall that just last weekend he had you pressed against. 

"Whatcha smiling at?" Sarah asks, walking behind you to pour herself a beer. 

"Ahh, nothing." You nervously chuckle. You knew she'd be happy for you, but honestly you didn't even know what the two of you were, if anything so why get excited over nothing? 

You and Sarah took a few shots, getting nice and tipsy before heading to the dance floor. You were feeling a little sad you still hadn't seen Shownu. The song changed as the two of you walked over there. You began rolling your hips to the beat, your eyes finally meeting Shownu's. He lickdd his lips as he watched you dance, shaking your hips and ass, keeping eye contact with him.��

When the song finished, you tried to get yourself another drink, but instead of making it to the kitchen, you found yourself being dragged up the stairs by Shownu. 

He pulled you into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

"Can I help…" you began before being cut off by his lips. 

"You are so sexy." He groans, his lips never leaving yours. He pushes himself against you, letting you feel his hard cock through his jeans.  

"I want you." You moan, moving yourself so he will pick you up. 

You wrap your legs around him as he moves you to the bathroom counter, sitting you down, never breaking the kiss, grinding his cock into your already wet clothes pussy. 

Shownu parts your legs as he pulls your ass closer to the edge of the counter, gripping his large hands tightly to your thighs.

He drops to his knees, pulling down your panties licks, with your help. You both were thanking you for wearing a skirt tonight. Shownu places your legs over his shoulders, leaning you back to get better access. Bending down, he llicks a strip up your already sopping cunt,  causing shivers to trickle down your spine.

“Fuck” you groan as he latches his luscious lips to your clit, sucking harshly.

You move your hands to his head, gripping a fist of his hair as he flicks his tongue against your clit, while you grind your self in his mouth. 

Shownu reaches his hand up, slipping under your shirt, cupping your breast before pinching your nipple, rolling it in between his fingers.

“Just like that” you cry out. "Fuck." You grunt your orgasm building.

Shownu flicks his tongue faster, switching between using his licking and sucking. 

Your grip on him tightens as your orgasm comes closer, a few more long licks and you’re sent over the edge, letting out a string of cries and curses words as your body shudders, harshly grinding yourself against his face. 

Shownu pulls away from you, licking his lips with a smile on his face. 

You push him back, sliding off the counter before dropping to your knees. 

Reaching up you unbutton his pants, yanking them down, along with his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. 

Your mouth waters as you stare at his large, thick cock, his red tip dripping with pre cum. You wrap your hand around his large shift before taking his tip in your mouth, sucking harshly, lapping up the cum. 

"Damn baby." He groans, throwing his head back. You begin taking in as much of him as you can, moving your hand from in the way. 

You gag on his cock as you deep throat Him, making him hiss in pleasure. 

Taking him from deep in your throat, you twirl your tongue around his tip while pumping him at the same time. 

"Holy fuck." He moans, not wanting you to stop. "If you wanna fuck, you're gonna have to stop." He cries. 

You halt your movements, taking him from your mouth, before standing up and bending over the bathroom counter. 

"Fuck me." You cry, shaking your ass for him. 

You can hear Shownu groan as he watches you stand there, bent over, waiting for his cock. 

"Gladly." He growls, lining himself up with your entrance before pushing himself inside you. 

"Your cunt feels so good." He moans, thrusting in and out of you. Your hands grip the counter tightly, your fingertips turning white. 

"Harder." You cry. Shownu pounds his cock inside of you, the sound of skin snapping fills the bathroom. 

There's a knock at the door that shocks ykh both, but Shownu yells for them to fuck off, his orgasm building. 

You rub your clit, your second orgasm coming on quicker than your first, taking no time to wash through your body, making you cry out. 

"Shit im gonna cum." Shownu grunts, pulling himself out of you before pumping his cock to cum all over your back. "Fuck I'm sorry." He says, making you chuckle. 

"Just loan me one of your shirts." You smile. 

"Now that I can do." He says, grabbing your hand to take you to his room. 

Later that week Shownu asked you to be his girlfriend, which you happily accepted. He had told you, he knew that over time you'd come around to be with him. And he was right. 

** 

It had been a few months and you had never been happier. You and Shownu were still going strong, and Namjoon was being held in prison. Life was actually really good, it felt like nothing could bring the tso of you down. 

"Hello?" Shownu says, answering his phone. His face goes confused, putting his phone on speaker. 

"Y/N." You hear, it's Seo-Joon. 

"Oh, hi." You giggle. 

"Look.. i don't know how to tell you this but Namjoon was released. The judge decided there wasn't enough evidence." He sighs. 

Your body begins to tremble at the thought of Namjoon roaming the streets again. Just as you feel like you're about to cry, there's a knock at your door, and your stomach drops. 

[conaionaru]

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless + Hvitserk)

Who is in control?

Synopsis: Skuld’s family leaves for the Mediterenean so she spends some more time with Ivar before he leaves as well.

Warnings: toxic relationship, casual sex, little bit of smut, talk of personality disorder, hints of sub and mommy kink, attempted good girl kink

Masterlist

I don’t own the gifs.

Today would be the day Bjorn set out on his journey, bringing everyone willing with him. Ylva sharpened her weapons peacefully, praying to the gods to keep her sons and daughter safe. The girl, of course, spends the day with Ivar once again. Loving the way the boy hangs onto her every word and challenges her right back.

So it was obvious that she slept with Ivar again. Out of all the men in Kattegat right now, her youngest had to choose Ragnar's son. Once upon a time, even Ylva found Ragnar worthy of her bed. But she was married and had too many children. All Ragnar ever wanted were sons to carry on his legacy; what a joke it would be if Skuld would be the one to carry on Ivar's?

What felt like a thousand years ago, she lest her beloved husband to Ragnar's whims. And so all her attraction to the handsome king faded as well. Now, whenever she drank, she dreamt of all the ways of paying him back.

But the great Ragnar Lothbrok was very capable of destroying himself on his own. Taking a second wife, not raising his son, nearly killing his youngest, and abandoning them all. Now he was just a shell, while she has everything: children, loyal followers and allies, riches, and a throne.

All her children made her proud, and the older they got, the prouder she became.

Egil was their first child and looked like his father with his fair hair. Very responsible, but he had her anger and temper. How proud she was when he presented Liv to her. His lovely wife gave him a daughter soon enough. And the glory of battle overshadowed the need for an heir. Liv was, of course, too content to tell him she wanted more children. So Egil sailed to possibly imaginary lands and left Liv and Kara to watch after the earldom.

Gunne was a troublemaker since birth, so keen to annoy people. He had no problem with women or battle. So when he settled down with Hjordis, Ylva believed her a witch. But he grew calmer and boasted about his pretty wife that could dance the whole night away and never tire. Out of all her good daughters, Ylva liked the cheeky Hjordis the most.

Another favorite was Þórfríðr, Stigandr's wife. The third born was everything Ylva hated. Silent, shy, and unsure. Þórfríðr charmed him because she knew what she wanted and told him to do the same. The only place he was sure and precise was the battlefield. People may underestimate him, but in battle, he would always win.

Despite being the fourth son, Brandr worried about his siblings the most. He had a pure heart and will of steel. No luck with finding a wife and giving Ylva more grandchildren, but that's not everything in life. What matters is that he survives and lives on.

Haldor may not give her any grandchildren, but that doesn't matter. His curly hair and adorable smile warmed her heart the first time she saw him. He didn't scream like the others, only whined and snuggled closer. That attitude never really left him.

Skuld was the youngest. A little bit spoiled, but she was where Ylva bet her money on. She was wicked, intelligent, and brave, so much like her mother. Sometimes, Ylva worried for Skuld's mind. The girl didn't cry either when she was born. There had only been silence. But the babe wasn't dead; it just looked around with tired eyes, silently judging everyone. The more Skuld grew, the stranger she seemed.

She didn't follow cry when she fell; friends always surrounded her that she didn't care about and had no problem with violence. At first, Ylva thought it was her brothers' fault, but when she found her eight-year-old cutting herself, she knew it wasn't the truth. Apparently, she wanted to see how blood looked like up close, and Brandr ran away before she could find out.

Over time, her behavior lessened, and all that was left behind was charm and cunning. But sometimes, Ylva saw the same dangerous glint in her eyes as that day. And yet, she thought of Skuld as her best child. Her youngest had the best chance of moving up in the world and becoming successful.

That's why she allowed this charade with the Ragnarsson. As long as Skuld was enjoying herself, the danger of her violent side was low. And a Prince was better than the usual company she kept.

"Aren't you a confident virgin?"

"I am not a virgin anymore; you know that," Ivar growled into her ear, flipping under him and changing the slow teasing pace that she set. "Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"I had worse." Skuld teased, wrapping her legs around his waist so he can go deeper, and scratched her nails down his nacked back. "But I also had better. So speed up, Ivar."

The Ragnarsson growled like a feral beast and bit into her collar bone to ground himself. With rougher trusts, he made the headboard bang against the wall so even his brothers will hear. He wanted them to remember the sounds and prove he was a man, and Margrethe just wasn't worthy of his cock.

Not like Skuld, who took his dick like she was born to do it. When she wasn't naked around him, she joked with him and smirked like a sly fox. To think that he didn't want her anywhere near him not even two days ago. And now, after round four, he felt like he found himself the perfect match.

"How about now?" He whispered into her ear; she didn't answer, probably didn't even hear him with how loud she was moaning. With one last high pitched moan, she shuddered under him and came. He followed five trusts later and collapsed next to her.

"A shame you will leave soon. Your mother will probably give me the cold shoulder the moment you sail off."

"Why?"

Skuld chuckled and rolled over to drape over his sweaty torso. "Her darling boy is leaving on a dangerous journey. And he chooses to spend his last moments home, fucking the guest." 

"Mother had me my whole life. It's only fair you had me for a little bit. I am doing what she asked of me before you came here." Ivar chuckled and pulled her closer, careful not to touch her back. She had limits just like him, he never showed his legs, and she never turned her back to him or let him touch it. Whatever the reason, he didn't really care as long as he got laid. "I am being a good host and paying you attention."

"How nice of you." She teased back, sitting up and leaving his bed again. This time not only to drink something like before. She picked up her discarded orange dress and put it on.

"You leaving already?"

"I have places to be. They are sailing away today, remember? I can't warm your bed for the whole day. I need breaks too."

"Not necessarily. You can still walk. That means you can come a few more times."

Skuld smirked at him and brushed his hair away from his face. "I created an insatiable monster."

"You could sate the beast like a good girl." Ivar tried the words, waiting for any indication that she liked the new kink. But Skuld chuckled and trailed her hands down his chest to paw at his cock.

"Or you could take what is offered and stop complaining like a spoiled brat. Be a good boy and get dressed." She drew her hand away from his lap and left him alone, looking dazed from her words. With a chuckled, he threw the furs off and left his bed.

Skuld walked to the shore where everyone was already present. Haldor was chatting with another man who enjoyed the attention. Her brother had some fun before he was supposed to leave as well. Good for him.

"I was worried you wouldn't see me off, Sweetheart." She turned on her heel to see the Ragnarssons standing there, waiting for their mother to stop talking to Harald and say her goodbyes.

"Maybe I came to take you to Valhalla before you could slay any enemies. Who are you to know?" Hvitserk grinned at her bold joke and moved closer to her.

He leaned to her ear and whispered softly. His breath lightly teasing her skin. "A shame I didn't have as much fun as you did. You are rather loud, you know?"

"I am aware, thank you. Thank the gods your brother will leave soon. Otherwise, I will die of exhaustion."

"I could talk to him if you want," Ubbe suggested only for her to shake her head.

"Let him. I am sure you were all the same. I still see the insatiable spark in your eyes as well." With the last sentence, she turned her eyes to Hvitserk, who was not hiding the fact that he ogled her chest. The second oldest smirked at her, no hints of shame, watching her as her oldest brother whisked her away.

"Another Ragnarsson, really? Isn't one enough?"

"If I were you, I would worry more about my survival than my sister's bed friends."

Egil rolled his eyes at her attitude and led her to the rest of their family, waiting for her. "Why, you think I won't make it? Do you truly have so little faith in me? Who do you think I am?"

"I think you are an idiot and annoying. Now leave me be, Egil." She seethed back at him and strode over to the rest of their family.

Ylva smiled a sad smile at her and drew her youngest to her. With uncharacteristically soft hands, she took her face in her palms and stroked her cheeks. "Stay close to Aslaug. She won't let anything happen to you."

"How can you be so certain? She has no place in her heart for anything other than her sons and wine." Skuld rolled her eyes at her mother's advice. She still saw the plan to leave her behind as a stupid decision.

It would have been better for Skuld to stay in Yugar and rule in her mother's place, instead of the three good-daughters that had the duty now. Placing her in Aslaug's household was a strategic move, a sign of trust and peace. If the Queen were to break it, she would face the rage of the Lioness and her five ferocious cubs.

"Maybe not, but she is clever and knows how to avoid war. Our relationships have strained enough thanks to her husband. The very one she despises as well. So going against him and entrusting you into her hands..."

"Is the perfect way to give her a sense of power with her hands still tied." Ylva nodded and kissed Skuld's hair as one last goodbye before departing for her journey. She hugged all her brothers as well. No matter how annoying they would get, they were family. And family always supports each other, especially if possible death looms over them. And with their tendency to get hurt in battle, this may be the last time they see each other.

"Keep your wits sharp, Skuld. May Freya protect you." Gunne whispered into her ear and passed her something wrapped in a cloth. He winked at her as he departed and sailed away.

Skuld's face was devoid of all emotion as her family grew smaller and smaller. In Kattegat, she was a stranger and probably rumored a whore. How much easier it would be for her to leave in the black of the night and return home—seeing Kara running around covered in mud while Liv scolded her halfheartedly. Hjordis stitching on the loom while Þórfríðr mocked her shaking fingers alongside Skuld.

But Ylva made a choice and gave her an order, if Skuld were to disobey, she would be punished. The last time she did it, her mother placed guards outside her door that chased away any lovers. Not even the thralls were allowed to be by her side. And that was only for being late to a meeting with another Earl.

When the small dots on the sea were gone, Skuld retreated to her family's hut. She sat down near the gone out fire and unwrapped the gift from her brother. Inside the cloth was a simple dagger with a wooden handle. It was light and easy to manipulate.

"Keep your wits sharp, huh?" She held the blade up for closer inspection and smirked in delight. It was a truly perfect gift. Skuld settled the dagger in her lap and teased her fingertips over the edge.

Skuld tucked the weapon away in her corset and left the silent hut. First, she must gather allies. And the best way to do that is to mingle with the common folk. Finding sympathies in Aslaug's court would be impossible; right now, the only trump card she holds over the Queen is that she saw her son naked.

The people in the market watched her walk by; she sent them smiles, playing the brave, lonely Lady. Slave traders, slaves, merchants, farmers - all useless to her right now. A merchant's ship would be a good escape in case of need. But they move on too fast, and she can't strike a deal with every boat that comes here. What she needs are whisperers. Little unseen things that will tell her all they know. And won't tell a soul they tattled to her.

"Margrethe! I would say it's fate that we meet, but that would be a lie. After all, I live where you work." The blonde slave smiled at her and shifted her hands in unease. "Would you like to walk with me?"

Of course, the girl had no other choice but to do as told. And so, Skuld led her away from the crowd by the arm. Smiling the whole time innocently. "Say, Margrethe... Does Ivar still bother you?"

Margrethe shook her head but still looked uneasy. She looked up at the taller female and leaned closer as if to tell a secret. "Did he...Did he hurt you?"

Skuld chuckled and pulled the scared girl closer to whisper into her ear. "In a way. But nothing I didn't like. Did he hurt you?"

"Yes."

Skuld frowned at the revelation. "Since the feast?"

"No... I only see him during meals. He doesn't even look at me." Margrethe confessed and looked at Skuld in confusion. It was weird of a foreigner to question thralls like this. The only one who ever asked her if she was okay was Sigurd, and he fucked her right after.

"That is good. I saw how uncomfortable you were that night. And I felt sorry. I also wanted to apologize for my flirting. I was drunk and wanted to lighten the mood. But I think I just made you more uncomfortable."

"It is alright."

Skuld shook her head and let Margrethe into an empty alley away from prying eyes. "Ivar is a cruel person, as we both know. And it would be better for everyone if they didn't know what we know. Or he might become even worse."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Margrethe denied, fully well knowing what the Earl's daughter was talking about. There was only one thing connecting them, and that was that they both slept with Ivar. Or attempted to in the thralls case.

"He told me, Margrethe. There is no need to deny it. And we don't have to talk about it. I know that night must have been scary. I just want you to know not to tell anyone."

"I told." The blonde whispered, scared, her eyes terrified. Skuld wondered what the cripple Prince did to her after he failed to get hard. A simple failed fuck would scare her so much. "I told Sigurd."

Skuld bit her lip at the dumb girl's actions. Scared or not, seeking refuge by the brother that spat venom at Ivar was stupid. One argument, and he might use it against Ivar, leaving Margrethe as the only possible source, especially when Skuld told the brothers that she and Ivar had no such problems.

"Don't worry. If Sigurd thinks you a liar, he won't spread the news. All I must do is prove them wrong. I did most of the job already. Just a few more things, and he will think Ivar more than capable."

"And how will you do that?" The wide eyes blonde stepped closer to Skuld. Trying to hear what plan the young female hatched.

Skuld leaned into her ear and whispered slowly, watching for any possible interruptions or witnesses. "Go to a healer and ask for Moon tea. Mention my name as often as possible. Ask for some herbs against pains as well. Say he left marks, and I ordered you to go there. Say anything that might sell the story, bruises, bite marks, even blood."

"Tell some slaves as well - the ones that spread the most rumors. I will walk with a slight limp and wince when I sit down. Moan and scream louder than before so everyone will hear. If they ask you what happened that night, you tell them naught. Deny any accusation and seem shifty. As if you lied about the whole thing."

Skuld pulled away after she was done whispering and watched the thrall try to remember the plan. "That will work. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We, strong women, should work together. That's the only way we might survive men like Ivar. Always one step ahead. If there is anything you know that could help us..."

"The Queen..." Margrethe trailed off, not sure if she should tell or not.

"Yes..."

She swallowed and looked around as if the woman would jump out at any moment. "She isn't fond of you. This morning she ordered Ivar to stop seeing you, but he protested and said he wouldn't. She thinks you a spy or that you have ulterior motives. Hvitserk just thinks you horny."

"That's more or less it. I am also bored and want Aslaug to regret her choice of taking me in. I could be at home annoying my good-sisters and niece instead of diddling her darling son. But thank you for the information anyway. I will remember your words well. Now go before someone finds us."

Margrethe ran off as Skuld watched her go, a deep sense of satisfaction sets in. Playing kind and concerned was as easy as breathing by now. Faking what people want to see or hear is easier than others think. Soon enough, they turn into little birds, fluttering around and gathering whispers and rumors—easy pray and yet useful. The more they believe you protect them and care for them, the more loyal they become.

During the night, Ivar sat next to her, propped on one arm. He was leaning over her with a frown on his face and kept pestering her. "Then why did you come to my bed if you don't want to sleep with me?!"

"I was lonely." Skuld shrugged her shoulders and looked at him with a teasing smirk. She was not hiding the fact that she is lying right into his eyes. "And maybe I wanted to be toughed kindly instead of being mauled by a beast."

Ivar looked away from her and laid back down. Refusing to even look at her as a spoiled child would. "Oooh. Don't be like that, Ivar. I want affection, give me some, and we can play." The young Prince continued to look away, pretending that he didn't hear her.

Skuld pulled a face at his stubbornness and rolled onto her side to catch his gaze. "Don't make me beg..."

"If you keep being difficult, I won't get in the mood at all..."

Skuld rolled her eyes, and forcefully turned his head to her. She held his cheeks in a tight grip, digging her thumb into his jaw in a warning. "I don't like being ignored, boy. So either you pay attention, or I will leave you to play all by your lonesome. How embarrassing would that be, huh?"

Ivar watched her with nearly black eyes, charmed by her rough treatment, and hissed words in a fake sweet tone. "What do you want?"

Skuld smirked and loosened her grip a little, caressing the tender spots with her thumb instead. "Hold me for a bit, and you can do what you want later on."

"Anything I want?" Ivar rasped out, looking like an addict with his drug right in front of him but still out of reach. She smirked in victory and patted his cheek mockingly.

"Within reason and boundaries. You do anything I don't like, and you will be punished. I am not a slave; remember that." The Ragnarsson nodded and pulled her against his chest, stroking her auburn hair with uncharacteristic gentleness. Maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all and just needed a firm hand.

After the cuddles, Skuld kept her promise and let him fuck her how he wanted. The boy saw some positions that he wanted to try, so they had a few rounds before they were both spent. As Skuld laid on her back with Ivar sleeping with his head on her chest, she watched the shadows on the ceiling.

Her dagger was on the floor, buried under her dress. For whatever reason other than brotherly worry, Gunne thought she needed a weapon. What he knew, he didn't tell. But there was something big coming if he was worried for her safety enough to arm her.

Ivar whined on her chest and buried his head deeper between her breasts. One of them hidden under his calloused hand, sleepily squeezing the boob. She sighed and scratched her nails over his scalp to lull him back to sleep, choosing to rest as well.