#fic name comes from ‘different then the others’

[harmonysanreads]

Chiaroscuro

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dr Ratio x [ Gender Neutral ] Reader

Synopsis: There is a wilted daffodil resting between the pages of Ratio's memories. Tags: POV Dr. Ratio, Fluff and Humor and Angst, Hurt/Comfort (?), Slow-burn (oh my), Right Person Wrong Time (oh dear), Strangers to Friends, Reader is Older than Ratio, We speak in the Language of Flowers here, Literary References and Allusions, Exploration of Academic Struggles, Jealous!Ratio, Exploration of Grief, Slight Yandere!Dr Ratio, My Interpretations of Ratio's Past and Ideologies (because hyv won't tell me), Brief Aventurine Appearance TW(s): Toxic Relationships, Toxic Family Dynamics, Implications of Physical Abuse (not condoned by Ratio) Author's Note: At long last, my ‘thesis’ on Dr. Ratio is finished :') I've been working on this fic since June 2024 and finally gathered enough willpower to push through the rest of it. I started this fic with the sole goal of torturing Ratio but ended up falling in love with him halfway through this fic- as such the direction may have shifted orz Please forgive any unintentional errors and get cozy <3

「 Word Count : 11k 」 「 Artwork Credits 」 「 Read On AO3 」

i. Panorama.

They say, the best years of a human's life are spent before boards painted with chalk scribbles and around those of one's ages, filled with careless laughter and weaving hopes for the distant future.

Veritas Ratio has always disagreed with this belief and backed his own with a multitude of reasoning. For one, those so crowned ‘best years’ are not to be wasted through wishing your fantasies would come to fruition on their own. Secondly, his experiences run contrary to the images illustrated by the majority of the population. Which, fall as it might within the grounds of personal grudge, has enough weight to not be disregarded entirely, he'd argue if necessary.

If confronted on his bitter feelings regarding the schooling years of a person's life, there is a possibility that the erudite Doctor will falter and then incoherently mutter something about it not being a downright horrifying experience.

The chances of receiving further clarification from that point decreases significantly and will be entirely dependent on Ratio's mood, which, isn't perceived to be the most agreeable on most days.

In the rare case that luck shines upon the inquirer and Veritas Ratio's stern edges soften with nostalgia, there will be but one name that'll leave his lips in an uncharacteristically somber cadence.

If certain events had transpired differently, the recollections of that day would've been far sweeter than it is now — but still, the parasite known as nostalgia begs to alter his memories. It attempts to soothe the cuts gained from reaching towards aspirations far beyond his capabilities with cursory glances from the sun, and daisy petals hidden in the crevices of dusty tomes.

In the days Veritas Ratio treaded in an environment where nearly everything was twice his height, carrying expectations no one would bother to understand, he'd pledged to himself to not fold before irrational demands just because he wasn't a sight one would normally see in an institution full of burgeoning adults.

He was no stranger to the attention his genius brought, far more so the unwanted part of it.

Which was why he'd stubbornly made his goals clear to his titular peers within the first week of his attendance, much to their bewilderment.

Any suggestions for free ‘assignment completion service’ was shut down curtly and neither did the prodigious new student bother to partake in other youthful activities — but surprisingly, Veritas's distant countenance hadn't succeeded in putting a dent to his overall popularity.

Perhaps that is the reason the requests for private tutoring sessions and borrowing of notes never did cease, because despite his attitude, no one could deny his intelligence. And that, ultimately became his label in that university. Consequently, no one went out of their way to seek him out unless it concerned academics — except one person.

Ratio thinks he might've been witnessing a meteor streak the night sky instead, because relatively speaking, he couldn't trace where you appeared from with just his bare eyes.

(Though now that he thinks again, it might've been because he'd not bothered to look beyond the white board of the lecture halls, haughty as he'd been.)

—And as momentary as said event, you'd stunned him with an inquiry that did not match any of the others that'd preceded your kind.

“Why are you all alone during lunch, little boy? Whoa, you're studying even now?”

He’d barely missed the astonished gleam in your eyes when he parted from marking an important section from his book in a flinch. The unacquainted sight beside his desk had put the functions of his brain at a temporary standstill, before resuming with a barrage of questions as you observed him rather amusedly.

The small smile that appeared on your face next halted any of those inquiries from gaining voice as Veritas's reflexes worked to catch the objects tossed his way.

“Take these for now. Skipping meals isn't good for you, you know? You can't achieve your dreams if you don't take care of your health first.”

Veritas blinked owlishly at the apple and sandwich now resting on his lap, the words of advice you stated in a rather sing-song tone barely registering in his head as he vacillated between demanding your identity and scoffing at your audacity.

Much to his chagrin, you evaded his burning stare and waltzed out of the vacant lecture hall before he could even open his parched mouth, again.

(What he recalls first before this peculiar interaction now is how the usually mundane sunlight had embraced your form that day.)

He only saw more and more of you from then onwards, much to his initial displeasure. For some mysterious reason, you'd made it your hobby to nag at and subtly coddle him in ways that made any other passing student raise eyebrows.

Whether it be dragging him to places and sometimes forcing him to eat lunch or separating him from his beloved books to 'refresh his mind' at some other corner of the campus, you never faltered ; despite all the scowls and passive aggressive quips he sneaked in.

Only after some research did Veritas discover you to be one among the seniors and, he'd admit it somewhat begrudgingly, you were a senior in every sense of the word.

Although, that knowledge did not aid him in answering the most begging question: why were you going out of your way to guide him through the perilous terrains of university? He'd initially suspected you to demand recompense in the same ways the others coveted. 

Perhaps you were an expert manipulator, struggling to wrap up your last year in the institute and as a result, decided to prey on the genius through teasing words and coddling.

Ratio was fully prepared to face you when you showed your true face — except, his hypothesis ended in utter failure as that expected unravelling never came.

So, on another of your usual kidnappings meetings under the old oak tree at the far end of the campus, Veritas decided to soothe the scorching paranoia in his head.

“It’s because you remind me of my little siblings! It's been such a long time since I've seen them and I just really miss them, you know?”

He doesn't know. Neither the sentiments that are apparently driving you to take care of him nor whether you're being sincere.

Here's the most annoying thing about you: despite how much of a genius Veritas is crowned to be, he's experienced repeated failures in deducing what lies beneath that benign smile of yours.

At least there are formulas and theories to explain or, get closer to the enigmas of the universe. But whatever and whoever moulded you into your present state had clearly forgotten to leave a loophole behind for curious minds like his to decipher.

“Besides, I understand how you must be feeling in this environment where everyone is half a decade older than you — even though you like to act tough. I know that there's a seed of loneliness that's ready to burst into a giant tree with the right incentive and you're just holding onto the last of your sanity to not let that happen.”

Ratio's fingers halt midway through flipping to a different page of his book. Your observation silences him long enough to make the rustles of leaves permeate the atmosphere, before he forces his brows to furrow and his lips to quirk down.

“It’s rude to make assumptions about someone you barely know.”

The purple head watched as you leaned against the palm of your hand, as though the sneer on his face was nothing worth fretting.

“Aww, did I catch little Veri off guard? No need to be in such denial, I saw you gape like an owl at my words. But owls are my favorite bird, don't worry!” The hostile expression on his face morphs into surprise as you ruffle his hair with your free hand with more enthusiasm than required.

“Rest assured, I'll take care of you for as long as I'm here, little Veri.”

“I’d appreciate it more if you don’t.”

That earned him a laugh and messier hair.

ii. Anamorphosis 

Little Veri.

If there was something he despised more than the shrill voices of his classmates, it'd be that nickname. You might've been accurate in your choice of words in a literal sense, but for the first time, honesty had bruised his ego.

The prodigy was not accustomed to being treated his age, he was always commended as ‘mature’ and being ‘beyond his years’. Yet you had never even bothered mentioning this and instead, always poked at the suppressed child that slumbered at the deepest corner of his heart.

What he loathed even more was how every repeat of that ridiculous nickname actually made him feel quote-on-quote ‘little’. No, how you allowed a leeway for that teenage heart to peek through from under a canopy of knowledge and caution.

Intentionally or not, you carved a shelter for that little boy to crawl beneath in moments that no one would care to glance at.

It was a matter of great shame although, while his teachers had handed him the basics to deciphering the laws of the universe, no one had bothered to teach him how to respond to such kindness.

Upon further digging, the genius was surprised to find that your merit resided in the top five of your entire year. While he hadn't taken you for a dimwit (he'd rather eat dirt than utter such sacrilege) his astonishment stemmed from the fact that he'd never seen an academic material accompanying you on campus.

He’d even thought your sole task was to bother him with your half-a-decade years old wisdom upon a particular session of agitation. But after clarity grasped his mind, he realized that his suspicions were simply baseless in an institution as competitive as Veritas Prime.

Instead of journals and papers concerning your major, Veritas often saw you seeking refuge in musings soaked in fantasy and your rationale behind such escapades puzzled the mind of his younger self greatly.

“And then the male lead gave a bouquet of bluebells to the female lead, declaring his feelings! Isn't that so romantic?”

Ratio scrutinized your form hunched over from giddiness derived from materials that appeared alien to his eyes, stacks of textbooks wept at the corner of the table in abandonment.

“Bluebells? I thought people gave roses for matters like this?” sunset orange eyes swept over the incredulity blooming on your visage.

You sighed as though he was the most exasperating person you had the misfortune of dealing with, “It’s because bluebells are the symbol of eternal and undying love. Roses are undoubtedly lovely but as you said, if anyone was to give roses to someone, everyone and their grandmas would have an inkling about what is happening between them! Giving someone a bouquet of bluebells on the other hand, is far more secretive and exciting.”

“I don't really understand but alright.”

Ratio almost drops his pen at the flick to his forehead, “So unromantic! You're never getting a girlfriend if you continue being like this, kid!”

His free hand whips up to shield his skin against further damage, he feels the muscles of his temple twitch in profound irritation. “I don't need—”

“Yes yes, you're too preoccupied with the pursuit of knowledge to bother with fickle things like romance blah blah blah.” Ratio's eye roll almost synchronizes with yours.

Veritas knows and he isn't ashamed to admit that he's not a romantic person. The path he walks on has no necessity for abstruse emotional attachment and sentimentalities.

On the contrary, what he abstained from seemed to be the centrepiece of your interest.

Your eyelashes flutter as you rest your elbows on the table, eyes searching for a trace of your wishes among the litany of bookshelves, “But if anyone was to confess to me, I'd want them to give me a bouquet of bluebells instead of trying to articulate their feelings.”

Ratio raised a brow as your sigh echoed throughout the grand library, “And how, pray tell, would they know of your preference?”

“That’s the thing, little Veri!” you snapped your fingers as though you'd solved the greatest dilemma plaguing mankind, “I wouldn't talk about these fantasies to just anyone. If someone was to give me a bouquet of bluebells, it'd mean that we're close enough to know these secrets and then there'd be a high chance that the feelings are mutual. No awkward moments, we'd know what we are without even speaking!”

The purple head observed as you rambled, the light from the sinking afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass shone on you. A scoff escaped him before he could stomp it down, his arms crossed almost derisively.

“And is that your sole ambition in life?”

“Of course not,” your reply was brisk and simple, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You met Ratio's perplexed gaze with an unusual calm, “If by ambition, you mean what I want to do after all this studying, well — I want to be a teacher.”

Veritas couldn't hold back the surprise from soaking his words this time, “A teacher? Why?”

But you seemed to find great entertainment in his reaction, if your twinkling eyes was anything to go by and the genius isn't even taken aback this time; your sources of amusement would never be the guesswork of anyone.

Your shoulders shifted as you shrugged, “Why not? Teaching is one of the most noble professions out there, but it warrants great caution and wisdom. Hmm, come to think of it— what do you want to be, Veri?”

Ratio nearly flinched as you expertly shifted the attention to him, glossing over it with a fake cough. “I…” his throat constricted as you leaned in ever so slightly, “—don’t know.”

“Whaaaat?” you backed away just as quickly, dragging the syllables of that word to emphasize your disappointment. “Tsk tsk, so you're just studying blindly without any clear goal? That isn't going to get you far, regardless of how intelligent you are.”

He knows that, but what is he supposed to do if his mind blanks when he tries to envision himself in any conventional field? In fact, he considers it as one of the flaws of the educational system. How a student is always urged to find their place in the grand scheme of matters but never guided through them ; or, at least, given clear pointers.

It'd also be careless to label Veritas completely clueless about his situation. What he does cradle, or was compelled to bear was not borne of his personal wishes. But with time, his mind accepted it as his own, though a part of his heart always ached with emptiness.

You cleared your throat upon noticing that a great conflict had rendered the genius speechless, “Well... as for the reason as to why I want to be a teacher, it's because I want to help those students who struggle to find their way in this vast world. Regardless of where they rank in the merit position or what ‘status’ society has assigned them. Granted, this struggle may continue even after someone has graduated and while I may not be able to help every single person, I still want to try my best. After all, that should be the goal of our educational system — in my opinion, at least!”

You chuckled somewhat bashfully afterwards, remnants of it settled on the way your lips curled. There was something so succinct yet undoubtedly natural about that smile, like petrichor and he felt a pang of regret hitting his ribcage for not noticing it before.

Although it might not appeal to some, to many it brought solace even before the sun could sweep aside the canopies of darkened clouds.

Something that's appearance was preceded only by the tears of the skies, it stunned the mind that such beauty could be unearthed from a phenomenon so seemingly insignificant.

And that realization appalled the young scholar.

iii. Tenebrism 

Ratio did not comprehend the value of your presence until he was deprived of it.

Due to certain circumstances, the genius had learned to be contingent with the fact that he'd have to navigate the majority of his life all by himself. Of course, ignoring simpletons and self-centered personnel came easy to him as well.

What the scholar wasn't conscious of, or was too prideful to acknowledge was the harrowing vacancy in some obscure corner of his heart that yearned for a deeper connection. It would take little effort for him to rationalize this longing with his age and return his attention to far more pressing concerns.

But it seemed that the more he tried to silence the wails of his feelings, the more cacophonous they became.

You'd spoiled Veritas a good amount, with your willing enthusiasm to tail after him whenever you had the reprieve.

So, when you abruptly stopped your usual pursuit in exchange of accompanying another person whose face he couldn't bother to remember, the young scholar was left to deal with a surge of emotions he had little control over.

Said emotions, were tame enough to be kept under check within the first few weeks as he learnt that the purpose of this sudden acquaintance had been for the completion of a group project.

Where the scholar's composure did start to falter was when you maintained your distance from him even after the fulfilment of said project.

And Ratio despised the sparks of resentment that'd flare up in his chest each time you'd pass him by while chatting so deliriously with that no-name stranger.

He was thrown in a limbo the first time he witnessed someone else in the position that he held and although he stubbornly convinced his mind that it was for the best ; each time the scene would replay in the corridors and crevices of the university, Veritas could see yellow hyacinths bloom in his peripheral.

He's certain now that he must've been losing his mind, or at least was on the verge of (and for such a childish cause at that) because he took shelter in a superstitious practice and ignored as many meals as he could in the futile hope that you'd come back and reprimand him again.

Ratio would have applauded you if he hadn't been so consumed by all those unsavory chemical reactions in his mind.

It didn't help his case that the first time he'd bothered to take in the environment, he was reminded of the fact that, you had others who'd accept you, but he only had you.

His frustration must've reached a new peak, because not even the most persistent of his irritable classmates were brave enough to approach him as he continued to brood hopelessly.

It wouldn't be long until he would gather the motivation to finally propel himself out of that dark space, but the method his younger self employed to do so, embarrasses the present him to no end.

“They did what?”

Veritas needn't open his eyes to picture your visage colored in shock, he opted instead to maintain his somber facade, arms folded, and brows furrowed to complete the act.

“But I never thought them to be that kind of person, quite the opposite, in fact.” followed your reluctant admission.

Ratio outstretched his palm as though enticing you to accept the news, “One can deduce so much about the ocean by gazing at its surface. The facts are before you, with substantial evidence. Whether you believe them or not depends entirely on you. I only thought I should inform you before it reaches the Principal, that is.”

He could envision your eyes oscillating between his firm countenance and the unseen prospects proposed by his words. Discreetly, he peered at your fidgeting and unconsciously held his breath.

He'd done the calculations before approaching you, the worry oozing from your gaze confirms that you've heard word of it from his ‘associates’ already and the fact that you didn't try to defend the person further tells him you've done some digging through the news portals of the university yourself.

Step by step, you've unknowingly assisted in concluding this problem.

The young scholar silences the quivers of his conscience before they can rage and foil all progress. As for this friend of yours, there were embers left behind from misdeeds of long ago. He merely reignited that flame so that those crimes would face proper punishment — although which was not his principal goal. To make sure you don't get caught in the inferno was, or at least, that's what he tells his conscience.

A half-resigned hum from you saves the scholar from spiralling, “I’ll believe you and will avoid them for the time being. Though I have my own theories, you have a point. There is no telling what is beneath a person's exterior.”

Veritas simply nods to that conclusion.

Your eyelashes flutter as you drift into a brief reverie, before fixating on his rigid person. “Ah, but what is going on with you, kiddo? You've been skipping meals again, haven't you?”

The young scholar blinks in stupefaction at the shrunken proximity between you two, the single finger beneath his chin with which you scrutinize his visage nearly burns his skin. He can hardly process what observation you're making through the dizzying fragrance of jasmines.

“I am in perfect health, as you can see—”

“For so long! It's only a matter of when that you'll faint while calculating nonsense.” you sharply interject and withdraw the searing contact. Strangely, Ratio makes no face this time.

“Come to think of it, it's been a while since we've had lunch together. Oh, I have so much to share with you! Let's not waste anymore time, let's go!”

There is good cause for why the wise warn against temptations. Bit by bit, piece by piece, oh so painfully obstinate — you fed him that poison, rendering his sharp mind a mess of inebriating chemical reactions.

You were none the wiser to the impact your fickle gestures made on him and soon, Ratio's biggest weakness, curiosity silenced the prodding of his conscience.

He gained little incentive to step far away from the leering shadows, as the brilliance of the sun made it so his fixation wouldn't stray towards the darkness.

iv. Tachisme

“Suffering is part and parcel of extensive intelligence and a feeling heart. A man who is really great, it seems to me, must suffer considerably here below.”

Your sigh weighs down on the silence of the university's library, a dull thud causing a crack on it as you set down the tome on the dark wooden table.

“I couldn't help but think of you while reading this novel.” bright orange eyes watch the way you cushion your cheek against your knuckles minutely.

“Suffering, misery, sadness, whatever you name it is inconsequential to any human being. But I feel like, those who are labelled as being ‘different’ than the majority experience a certain kind of those challenges. The ones that are weighty on the tongue when they attempt to express it, perhaps inscrutable to even themselves.” Ratio mulls over your musings, briefly closing his eyes.

“Everyone’s experiences are bound to be different.” comes his easy response.

The furrow in your brows suggests the conflict his words stirred instead of assurance, “You take everything so coolly, but I can't help but worry for you. You may be calm and certain about everything now but there's no guarantee you'll always be this way. On top of it all, you reject close relationships, thus narrowing your options to lean on someone should a sizable problem come.” 

Ratio catches himself before his eyes can roll sideways, “Surely you didn't drag me out of a lecture just to nag me again?” his subconscious notes the reduced exasperation that prospect stirs within himself.

You often worry for a future that has yet to seize anyone. While the young scholar commends your far-sightedness, he really cannot understand the use of losing one's mind over events that haven't happened yet.

Thinking ahead is helpful, turning that habit into an obsessive frenzy is not.

He observes the way your frown expands, deepens and ultimately loosens up with a sigh. You refrain from broaching the topic further, another quality he appreciates.

Though you don't make an attempt to defend yourself, you refuse to voice out anything else as well, settling your eyes to a distant point in existence.

For once Veritas is ruffled by the silence, so he makes an attempt to change the subject — because counting your eyelashes isn't the most productive thing for a scholar to do.

“It’s not everyday I see you carrying something that doesn't have hearts and glitters on the cover page.” his eyes settle pointedly on the book before you.

You scoff, “One does not survive in Veritas Prime simply from reading light novels.” there's a trace of pride in your admission.

“Oh? So, what does ‘one’ do to maintain their spot in the top five?” Ratio quirks a brow, holding your gaze.

The witty response he anticipates gets replaced by another sigh, puzzling him for an instance, “I’m assuming this is about me never studying within campus. Well, I just like keeping my study space and my socializing space separate. Listening to lectures here and doing the heavy lifting in my room. It's what works for me, in any case.”

There's genuine interest in his next questions, “And what do you do when you get bored while studying? Or when you feel like you can't concentrate anymore?”

You twirl a stray lock of your hair, cheek still resting on your knuckles, “Take a bath to sober myself up, I guess. When your mind is full of garbage, your body will likely not be the cleanest either.”

You shrug, your nonchalant attitude renders his mind to a blank slate. For a while he does nothing but think about your words, though the response he gives matches none of the context.

“I feel like there is so much I don't know about you.”

It's your turn to be surprised, but unfortunately for Ratio, the sight is still too brisk. You break into a fit of laughter, wiggling your brows as though you know something.

“Silly little Veri, let me tell you something. People are like icebergs! We can only see their tips with our bare eyes but to know them in their full capacity, we have to dive down.”

“But the waters are cold.” the young scholar pushes.

Your giggles soften to a smile, “That’s exactly the point.” and you refuse to elaborate further, again.

To reach the heart of the iceberg, one must push through the freezing depths of the ocean. Whether Veritas Ratio has that willpower, is a question left for his future self.

v. Sotto in su

As the days lapsed, more and more memories anchored themselves in Ratio's mind. They brought with them a different seed of emotion, every exchange with his enigmatic senior nurtured and coaxed it to sprout tender leaves.

Before his syllabus could be replaced, the fact had been known to everyone regardless of their relation to the prodigy. If your recurring appearances in Ratio's life and his noticeable tolerance for your presence was anything to go by, it was apparent to anyone with a conscious mind that his opinion of you was at a level above everyone else's.

Exchanges between different years wasn't an uncommon phenomenon, but a friendship with the notoriously detached prodigy was an understandable bewilderment. Though, the students at Veritas Prime quickly learned to use it to their advantage rather than criticizing it — a unanimous realization that Ratio was just a bit more agreeable in your presence.

Not that Ratio was unaware of their schemes, the fact that they construed that he'd tolerate them solely because of your connection further cemented his belief that all these wannabe researchers were still light-years away from the truth they speak to seek.

Albeit, after noticing that he'd been more approachable for students who genuinely wanted to learn rather than to fulfill some pecuniary purpose — he begrudgingly admitted that, there was an influence taking place.

Veritas swiftly ignored the rumors. While not one to waste his time, being with you brought along perspectives that challenged his thinking style. To him, truth has always been beautiful because it will not change, even through the failures in understanding it.

But you're a human being, change is rooted in your constitution.

The cycle of erosion and accretion that makes you you hinders even a brilliant scholar like him in grasping the characteristics of your soul. This form of beauty he was not acquainted with before, admittedly.

Relying too much on either rigidity or malleability will pose problems. It is through the search of a balance can we discover the answers.

It may not be obvious at first glance, but you aspire to guide others through the murky depths of ignorance while pondering this apparent equilibrium — since neither extremes can be eliminated. As strange as that selflessness initially appeared to him, Ratio has developed a sense of respect for your ambitions.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for him, it seemed as though you knew exactly what was transpiring.

In fact, you were conscious of a lot of things ; it's just that you preferred to pretend that you didn't for reasons that he hasn't comprehended yet.

For the longest time he interpreted that thoughtful sparkle in your eyes as just another play of light. Whenever his reactions to your teasing would come off as more animated than last and the flush that he'd try so hard to not let extend to his cheeks do just that — you'd have that nearly imperceptible realization reflected in your eyes. It scratched at the parchedness Ratio hadn't even recognized to be there.

His fear was confirmed to be true one afternoon in a vacant lecture hall, though not through words.

“Is this for me?” sunset orange eyes shone against the shadows that fell on his back.

“Well, do you see anyone else here?” your huff and his eyeroll synchronize.

You patiently held the book covered in elaborate illustrations of flowers for his taking, though what captured the scholar's attention most was the single yellow bloom tied atop with a violet ribbon on the book. He recognized the book to be a copy of the floriography manual he often saw tucked between your collections.

“You’re probably wondering ‘what value will this book bring to you’. Well, as I've said before, studious scholars should never limit their perspectives.” you almost shove the gift into his hands in response to his stunned countenance.

“And,” an accidental brush of your fingers against his hand sends an unwanted shudder through his arteries, “Happy birthday, little Veri.”

You withdraw just as quickly, the hues of the setting sun softening the smile on your face.

Ratio forces himself to look elsewhere, "You're still going to use that ridiculous nickname, huh? What a way to welcome me into adulthood." he mutters, the words leaving a bitter aftertaste that he tries to mask with sarcasm.

He feels your chuckle probing at his heart, taunting the quickened pace in which it revolts against its cage. You shift your gaze to the golden petals resting atop the book, a somber sigh tumbling from your lips.

“— Fair daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon ;

As yet the early-rising sun

Has not yet attained his noon.”

Many see fit to celebrate their first step into adulthood with enthusiastic celebrations, Ratio's eighteenth birthday brought with it a clinging bittersweetness — not that he allowed himself to dwell on it for long, his future plans taking precedence over sentiments.

The lone daffodil had been tucked between a random section of the book you gifted, hidden away from his sight. The border between cowardice and courage was thin, nearly translucent in the manner the result dictated what it would turn out to be.

The journey of uncovering the mysteries of the universe is a similar pursuit. Emerge victorious and you'll be brave, fail and you'll be heralded foolish. Ratio was far from a coward or a foolish man, sometimes not going head-fast into uncertain territories is the mark of intelligence.

He allowed the daffodil to wilt and turned not a page, for he knew in some deep crevice of his subconscious that it'd blight the clarity of his mind with another flood of emotions he did not have the capacity to process.

Luckily, his agony met a premature end as you departed from Veritas Prime by the end of the year with a certificate in hand.

Who knows how many sleepless nights and crushed dreams paved the path for the ink lines on that single piece of parchment. Ratio had been there as the first to congratulate you, it was the least he could do.

He did not proceed farther than that, as you'd made it clear that there would forever be a line he would be unable to trespass.

Ratio was fully aware of the limitations the silly crush that accumulated over the time in your acquaintance brought and he expressed no interest in pushing those boundaries either.

He found solace in the fact that he'd met you at all. He wouldn't say you illuminated his life, for even you always believed it was the individual themselves who possessed that power.

You nudged him towards the path to find his light and that lesson, he wanted to honor all his life.

The memories of your time would stay treasured in his mind and the curve of your smile would be preserved in marble. Without the echo that his ears yearned to capture, he saw fit to isolate his senses from unnecessary stimulation.

Though you'd never grace the corridors of Veritas Prime again, the footprints of your presence etched deep in the genius's memories would never fade.

vi. Trompe l'oeil

His next encounter with you was a tad unexpected, just at the horizon of Ratio putting the full stop to his years at the university.

Veritas’s fingers slackened around the handle of his umbrella, a page or two of the manuscript of his thesis slipping past his grip and drifting along the roaring wind — but his eyes couldn't chase after them. Much too fixated on the way your shoulder bumped with theirs, not at all by accident.

The rain soon cloaked your figures from his spying gaze, the droplets soaking the ends of his clothes failed still to snatch his attention away. In spite of the thunderous cries of the sky, the echo of your laugh was all he could hear.

—

Time never ceased its relentless march; life followed its direction and events moulded more memories.

For the sake of productivity, he had no choice but to push back his curiosity and stay away from your life. His studies and workload helped generously in keeping his mind from wandering to frightful territories at inconvenient instances, though a certain spark nestled deep somewhere in his subconscious.

Before long, his name resounded far beyond the gates of Veritas Prime.

Veritas Ratio, now Dr. Ratio, felt his nerves flare again as he looked at the latest discussions on the university’s online forum, the words “Dr. Ratio Will Surely Snag A Place At The Genius Society, Won’t He?” in bold only tickled his annoyance further.

Ordinarily, he would stay as far away as possible from discussions concerning himself — which was easier said than done.

Aggrandizing anything always leads to disappointment. Ratio's surroundings loved to goad his path, but he knew, such chatter would morph to whispers the moment their expectations were proven false.

Dr. Ratio’s brooding came to a halt at the collision, his reflexes acted and he clasped onto the stranger’s arm before they could fall. He heard leaves crunching under his boots, strangers threw cursory glances at the near-accident. 

His lips parted in what a spectator could assume to be the beginning of an apology, but paused upon noticing the words resignation letter on the paper in the stranger's grasp.

Orange eyes flickered, trailing upward, within the fabric of scarlet you burrowed deep in search of comfort from the scare.

You mimicked his earlier attempt, craning your neck for a second to meet his gaze and halting in recognition.

“Veritas… Ratio?”

The addressed scholar blinks, blurting out before he could think, “That’s not what you used to call me.”

There's a scintilla of surprise in your eyes at his unintentional jest, he anticipates a laugh next, but only an awkward quirk of your lips greets him.

Your eyes dart around your environment, before returning to his grasp. Feeling the weight of your stare, he releases his hold with a fake cough.

“I… apologize.” his hand found refuge on the nape of his neck.

“It’s okay, accidents... happen, you know.” you wave him off with your free hand.

A breeze passes through the gap between you two.

It might've just been Ratio’s misjudgement, but he felt as if you were about to run away for a millisecond. Your fingers tightened around the paper in your hold, you gathered yourself with a deep inhale.

“Congratulations on obtaining your fourth doctorate degree! I often discuss your papers in my classes, you are an inspiration to so many people.”

A flicker of sunlight filtered through the leaves above fell and there appeared that smile he knew. Years had gone by, yet the mystery in it remained still out of his reach.

“Thank you,” he tilted his head downward, “I’m glad to hear that you pursued your dream.”

Ratio sneaked a glance, your nod faded into silence. His gaze lingered on your face, the concentrated flush on your right cheek made his brows furrow.

He was no fool to the tension in the air and your unusual fidgety demeanor. He briefly contemplated if he should just depart.

However, he couldn't deny the fact that questions had accumulated throughout the interval of your absence from his life. The differences between the you before him and the you from his memories begged him to probe, to study and learn.

He felt himself drawn to the paper in your hand again, a glint on your ring finger caught his eye. Among the myriad of inquiries battling to escape his lips, the one that’d warred the longest emerged victorious.

“Did they…” he began, uncertain.

“Give you a bouquet of bluebells?”

Your flighty gaze froze to confusion for a moment as you tried to decode his words, Ratio mirrored your gaze as you failed to answer. You quickly blinked away any hints of shock, a forceful bite stopped the trembling of your lips.

(He felt a twist somewhere in his heart.)

“Can we… talk somewhere else?” you suggested. Despite it being the middle of autumn, there's a storm brewing in your eyes. 

—

Veritas could see splinters on the cup in his grip, the dark beverage within threatening to spill.

A passing waitress threw the table a concerned glance, but could not find the courage to intervene. The sight of your antsy wringing of hands in his peripheral alerted him to breathe. He loosened his grip on the poor cup of coffee just in time, a burdened exhale following suit.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “So, what do you intend to do now?”

You fiddled with the band on your ring finger ; within the vacancy of the cafe, to Ratio, it felt as if even such an insignificant gesture gained voice.

The insistence of your silence prompted him to continue, “The culmination of your hard-work, one that stole almost all of your life ; all of those sleepless nights, unsaid sacrifices for the sole wish of helping others — all of it, you're going to let go, just like that? Just because an idiot claims they know better?”

Dr. Ratio could not understand, no matter which angle he looked at it from. The answer to your dilemma was crystal clear to the scholar, he’d be willing to bet it’d be clear to anyone with a functioning brain — and yet, you hesitate.

You continue to shuffle and avert your gaze, sometimes parting your lips to speak but withdrawing the next second.

A person that's found the tunnel’s end should run towards it, but you remain at the precipice of darkness.

“I…” The purple head straightens up at the sound of your voice, it is weak, hopeless ; a complete stranger to who you once were.

You abruptly gather your things, “I’m sorry, please forget I ever said anything —” an innocent glass is knocked off in your haste.

Cold, your hand is chillingly cold as Ratio grabs it, preventing you from running away. The unnatural temperature of it temporarily unsettles the man, but the situation at hand prompts him to push the observation back.

You try to force your wrist out of his grasp, but he presses on, “Can’t you see, that they are ruining you? This is not who you used to be! Your so-called 'fiance' is destroying you, they’ll not stop until you're nothing but a shell of yourself and they can reshape you to their liking!”

“I really have to go —” a vein pops on Ratio’s forehead, the wanton glass hits the floor.

“And why go? To receive another slap from them?” he feels your palm dampen from sweat, pieces of shattered crystal splaying across the tiles.

You look at him in disbelief and he blinks, the sharpness of his words finally cutting him.

The incipiency of an apology gathers at the tip of his tongue, but you halt it from escaping.

“Whatever happens between us, is none of your business, Veritas Ratio.”

If your hand was simply cold, your glare is freezing. It stuns the scholar enough to make his clasp loosen, you quickly snatch your hand away.

You’re two steps in when Veritas rushes to add, unwilling to back down, “But it was still you who reached out to me.”

The scholar hears the pause in your heels, you don't turn to address him and he doesn't move to obstruct your path either.

The bell signals your departure as the waitress from before rushes to clean the broken glass, leaving Ratio alone with his thoughts.

—

Veritas Ratio has had scarce attachments to worry about in his life.

For better or for worse, it appeared as though the direction of his life was steered towards one particular destination, everything else proved to be transient.

While his surroundings eroded and flourished within the touch of mortal delights, he remained but a spectator, destined to observe but never indulge.

Love. A simple word, yet any singular meaning behind which could still not be agreed upon.

He saw it in the way parents cradled their children, in the eyes of a couple that brushed past him in the streets. Flighty like the union between another pair of his former classmates, strengthened like the wrinkly hold of that couple that sold flowers down the street ; its form, just like its definition, is infinite.

The scholar thinks he's felt it somewhere in his past, or at least the vestiges of it — within the glow of a cryptic smile and a mind that did not yield.

Troublesome as it’d been, it did not conquer him. Ultimately, he wielded enough willpower to move on.

Some say, brilliant minds that toil too long in the territories of the unknown, become dense to the simpler aspects of life. Ratio did not see the inconvenience in this notion for a long time, not when it aided him more than burden him.

That is, until the encounter at the cafe.

If nothing else, it was clear to the prodigy that you had changed, for the worst at that.

The 'you' he’d known would know how to pick yourself up, or more accurately, that ‘you’ wouldn't have allowed things to escalate this far at all.

You would've left this rotten excuse of a relationship the first time they raised their voice, you would never concede to that fatal act of disrespect, under no circumstance would you let such an excuse of a human have such control — he… he hoped.

Ratio leaned back in his chair, a frown creeping in to his face.

For all these outrageous claims that he's been making of the you he was familiar with, how much did he actually know?

Is a year’s observation enough to grant him that badge of familiarity?

It is as you said, who is he to judge you at all?

Within the gloom of his study, his eyes unconsciously met with those etched in marble, the curve of a sun-kissed smile. He hand moved on its own, turning the table-lamp towards the sculpture and indeed, the light has always suited you more than him.

His recollections backtrack to the hazy gaze he saw that day, the encumbrance in them hoisting him up to chase after the itch for answers.

An uncounted number of hours passed, only after perusing a decent pile of tomes did it finally click in his head.

Ratio had no excuses or motivation to defend himself, he most certainly handled the situation poorly.

When the average attempts of leaving such relationships is between seven and twelve, it was insensitive of him to confront you like that.

Cognitions clouded in rage, he ignored the questions he should've asked, the sense of security he should've provided — the one you sought from him — and cornered you abruptly.

Foolish foolish foolish — he felt his fingers tug at his hair, breaths stuck in his lungs. Rationale does not always succeed in helping others see reason, how could he be so careless with you, of all people?

He didn't even know what stage of this hell you were at, how many times you’ve attempted to leave and what leverage they have over you.

Well, it would be most accurate to say he didn't know anything at all and yet, he arrogantly told you to 'just leave'.

The purple-head forced himself to breathe, the self-loathing could be shelved for a later day, what's more important now is finding you again.

He stood up from the heap of tomes, only to pause, does he deserve to seek you out again?

He betrayed your trust and you shut him off for good, should he even bother now?

A distant tug held him back.

Much like before, there is that line between you two that he cannot cross, must not cross.

He’s no longer a teenager in documents, but he doubts you see him as anything more than that ‘little Veri’.

—

The echoes of passing vehicles ricocheted around the streets, but Dr. Ratio’s attention stayed transfixed on the ivory petals in front of him.

A week or so had passed, the ruminations of those doubts kept him away from the confrontation and stole his nights.

It would be easy to cure this ailment, finding you would be but a matter of a few swipes. But that uncertainty, the ghost of a past insecurity, clung to his resolve. As such, peace abandoned him for a while.

A zephyr whispered to him, “Asphodels,”

He hummed without much thought, sunset orange eyes tracing the dulcet lines in those blooms. 

“ ‘My regrets will follow you to the grave’, it's not everyday you see someone looking at these flowers with such care.”

If anyone looked straight into the scholar’s eyes at that moment, they'd for sure be able to witness the cogs turning in his brain in them.

Ratio finds you startled once he whips to his left, your presence finally registering in his head.

A prayer, a yearning, your name escapes his lips. But any further speech is obstructed from taking shape.

You’re the first to recover, “I apologize for running away like that the other day. It… was cowardly of me to tell you to mind your own business when I was the one who confided in you first.” your head lowers in appeal.

He’s sure of it now, you must be on the quest of giving him a heart-attack, what with these continuous surprises you’re throwing at him.

Well, if not a fatality, they're at least doing a wondrous job in preventing him from processing the fact in its entirety — you're here, you’re here, you're here.

You found him, again. Just like all those years ago in the lecture hall, all those times he was skipping lunch, on his eightieth birthday and that other day ; it was always you finding him.

(Has he ever broken through his pride and cowardice and tried to find you instead?)

The scholar hastens to join you, “No, it was my incompetence in failing to understand your situation that pushed you to leave. I completely failed to provide you with safety when you trusted me. For that, I beg your forgiveness.”

He couldn't see it, but he could picture your disbelief at his behavior. Your fist mirrored his, “No, it was clearly my stupidity—”

“Nonsense!” his exclamation earned him a flinch from you. He subconsciously straightened up to drive his point across, “It was me who —”

In the hurry and flurry of emotions, your head bumped with his, ending his tirade prematurely.

Your eyes settle on him, a car runs past your perplexed figures and then, the streets get cloaked in quietude ; before being filled with your giggle.

Against his control, his lips twitch and laughter bubbles in his chest. He allows them to gain voice and join yours.

You fan your face with your hand as the chuckles skid to an end, Ratio feels his cheeks warmed when he inhales. But none of you bother addressing the previous argument, its result apparent.

You take a deep breath and exhale. The scholar sees sun-glitter in your pupils, “I left them, by the way.”

That sobers him.

“Your…”

“Fiancé, yes. Or well, ex-fiancé now.” as if on cue, Ratio catches your now vacant ring finger.

“They tried to beg me to stay. But to be honest, it was not the first time they appealed to my sympathy.” you find interest in the pavement, searching for the remnants of your memories in their cracks. 

“... But I really put my foot down this time. And oh, I didn't quit my job either, in case you were wondering.” you heave, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“And where are you residing now — if you don't mind me asking?”

“I’m temporarily staying at a friend's house. Don't worry, I’m at a safe place.” you reassure, detecting the underlying concern in his inquiry.

Ratio’s shoulders sag as he exhales, the receding adrenaline dulling his worries. Turns out you didn't really need his help, not that he's astonished. It was in your nature to extend help towards others but thinking twice before asking for help.

(Although he's in no position to criticize, he so wished that you’d find it in yourself to rely on him a bit more.)

“If you ever need anything, just give me a call or a text. You still have my number, correct?” he glances down to gauge your expression.

When you nod, he murmurs a faint ‘good’ and silence takes over. He contemplates if he should add anything else, but the serenity in the atmosphere prompts him to push back those concerns.

“Well, goodbye for today?” you suggest, snapping him back to reality.

He raises his hand to do just that, but a different thought alarms him.

“Let me walk you home.” he pushes back the cringe at the excess firmness to his tone, rushing to add, “Please?”

For a blink or two, you looked at him as though you’ve just sighted an alien. He assumes it's the ‘out-of-character’ tendencies he’s been portraying that has you double-check. It seems that he was not the only one comparing the present and the past.

Luck appeared by his side — or perhaps it was just your pity — and you conceded without any complaint, letting him join your steps. The scholar barely hid his glee through his gait.

The planet that housed Veritas Prime would get decorated in the lovely shades of ripened maple leaves around this time. Civilians gathered in groups beneath these scenes, some enjoying a leisurely picnic, others focused on getting their desired pictures.

Ratio noticed your wanton glance at a pair on a picnic mat, his lips tugging down at the tell-tale signs of where your thoughts ran towards.

But before he could do anything, you turned away and picked up your pace ; the pair’s laughter but background noise.

With some haste, he caught up to you. Racking his brain to distract your mind, he found himself empty-handed.

Four doctorates and yet, his mind goes blank when he needs it the most. He couldn't be any more disappointed in himself.

Just as he’s about to start a mental berating though, you side-step a rock and Ratio’s hand bumps with yours, their frigidity alerting him.

He stops in his tracks, and you do too, looking up quizzically at him.

He extends his palm, “Give me your hand,”

Your confusion only increases, “What? Why?”

“It’s too cold. Are you certain you aren't sick?” he thinks back to the encounter he had with you at the cafe, the chill he felt when he grasped your hand. He initially thought it a coincidence, but now, he was really concerned.

“Ahh, this, you see,” you flex your fingers, a feeble attempt at warming them up. “My hands kind of respond to the temperature? Don't ask because I don't know exactly why either, during winter, they're usually cold like this. But in summer, they're very warm.”

Ratio quirks a brow, “Just the fact that it tends to happen doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, does it?”

“No…” you trail off, “But! That's what my fiance— I mean, ex-fiance would always tell me, to just get used to it.”

Your eyes flicker back to Ratio’s, the disbelief in them telling you enough of what you need to know.

The scholar ran a hand through his hair, he shuddered to ponder what other garbage they had fed your brain.

His sigh is carried by a passing breeze, “It’s okay. They aren't here to dictate your life anymore.” he once again offers you his hand, another hope-filled prayer.

You look at his extended palm and back to his patient gaze, your fingers fisting in themselves for a moment before loosening.

He sees the ebb and flow of doubt and hope in their movements, inching closer and closer to his.

He cradles your hand when it reaches him, your fingers slipping easily through the gaps of his. The difference in temperature alerts his reflexes for a second before he calms them down.

He stuffs your intertwined hands in his coat pocket — your gasp fades behind you as he resumes his gait.

Ratio does not dare glance in your direction, but he knows you're watching, scrutinizing him. It reminds him of the look you had at the end of your university days, the memory of the incident that followed makes his throat parched.

Your grip is unusually weak, combined with the knowledge of your situation, the scholar can't stop himself from adding.

“Have you been eating well? Tell me if you haven't, I'll take you to have a proper meal. But don't lie about these matters, you can't achieve your dreams if you don't take care of yourself first.”

You freeze at his words and Ratio makes the mistake of returning your stare.

Seeing no change in his serious expression though, you shake your head with a chuckle, assuring him of your health.

The clicking of both of your shoes against the pavement is the only thing keeping his heart-beat at bay, his attention from focusing too much on the feel of your hand in his and the myriad of chemical reactions flooding his reward system.

When the coldness in your hand has been completely replaced with the warmth from his, you gesture to him that you’ve reached your destination.

He feels an unexpected reluctance in letting you go, something in his gut pushing him to hold on — but he ignores it.

You pause before opening the gates, glancing at him from over your shoulder.

He looks up in time to see your smile, it's not like all those times you’ve smiled before — no, no. This time, lilac petals cling to its corners.

Ratio covered his mouth with his hand, hiding the stupid curve of his lips from anyone's eyes. The lingering warmth from your hand finally allowed his heart to beat with fervor.

He wanted nothing more than to give you a bouquet of bluebells at that moment.

vii. Sfumato

The day Dr. Ratio returned to your side with the pledged bluebells, was beautiful.

The canopy of winter had begun to be swept aside as nascent leaves heralded spring, twitters of birds ornamented the breeze.

When fresh fountain ink meets parchment, it spreads with a thin halo of blue — the sky of that moment brought back this image in his mind. The sun found amusement in steering behind ivory clouds ; a cheeky, one sided game of hide and seek played with light and dark.

The sun made a mistake, a sidestep allowed rays to escape and fall on the lace ribbon of the bouquet.

Sun-glitter followed the lead of Ratio’s arm, over the arch of his wrist, finding their way from beneath the crevices of his fingers — shining, glimmering, as lapis petals caressed the tombstone.

How strange, didn't it usually rain and roar for scenes like these in those light novels of yours?

Veritas could not feel his breaths, it's as if the mechanisms of his respiratory system halted for that matter, he couldn't even feel his eyes flutter.

Idiocy.

He contemplated turning away altogether, what was he even thinking, bringing bluebells to the cemetery like a young lover?

A dead leaf crunched from his retreating step, the note stunning him in place.

Perhaps he should've brought the chopped off, bleeding excuse of a skull of that man — if only, if only if only any being, any listening existence in this wretched world would reassure him that it’d bring you back. 

The scholar felt his fingers lax from their cocoon, but he knew, that would be impracticable. If a life for a life resurrected the other, his fingers wouldn't tremble in usurping that leverage and bringing justice to your final moments.

But he knew, oh how the erudite scholar despised knowledge for the first time in his life — that it’d soothe him, but leave a hollow far worse in his heart.

A sigh forced its way past his lips, onerous was its euphony. Windswept locks of violet poked at the way crystalline orange held onto the engraving on the silver stone ; the name, once his boon, now his bane.

Splinters of marble flew, papers, pens, innocent objects were tossed aside like fickle trash. Rouge flecked once pristine alabaster. Midst the carnage, a book fell betwixt Veritas’s path.

A withered daffodil lamented rationality’s fall.

Newspapers and channels boldly flashed the incident for a week — individual apprehended for the charge of murdering their ex-fiancé — before being swallowed by other, more fascinating pieces of events.

Ratio found himself scoffing at their tone, picking apart their every word and spacing, frowning at how quick people's interest moved on.

Indeed, the world waits for none. The ones lingering are always tormented.

With the last person in close association with you behind the bars of the psych ward and your acquaintances grieving, the scholar took it upon himself to deliver your files and belongings to your family.

But that decision turned out to be a lesson, the universe once again pointing out without mercy the mediocrity of his knowledge.

“Does that mean we’ll have to turn to the streets now?” whispered a little too loudly, a little too carelessly, your step-mother to your father.

Ignorance.

Perhaps Ratio’s disbelief had been too loud on his face, for your father shushed her quickly and attempted to smooth over the slip-up with a barely-strung lament.

But the scholar had learned what was to be surmised from this family, all of their next speeches effortlessly ignored by him.

So the reason you ultimately didn't quit your job was for them, Veritas's eyes dimmed. Feelings were never his forte, this messy heap of them he had no clue what to do with.

And the siblings you used to so dearly miss back in your university days? The second-oldest after you put back her headphones after he finished delivering the news and the youngest couldn't even recall your name.

Ratio seldom used the phrase, but it was truly a miracle he left that fetid establishment without causing damage.

He decided against disclosing your remaining belongings to them and instead, gave them away for charity as written in a journal he accidentally stumbled upon while sorting through them.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew this would happen.

But you refused to confide in anyone, tolerating the farce of a content life.

Ratio could not understand, did not even know where to begin in decoding what was going through your head when you lied to him and what had coerced him into believing it.

Of course you didn't leave them, that would've been too perfect and too merciful an end and clearly, the universe would not allow it. Of course he needed to be shown how much of an idiot he still is, the extent of his wishful thinking.

Ratio concurs he deserves it.

But did you deserve to meet such an end? No, your life shouldn't have been shaped this way to begin with! And yet, it had been.

For long did he stare off into vacant space, casting aside the need for slumber, attempting to answer what was to be done now. The silence beckoned him, that it was nothing.

Perhaps, you were at peace now at last.

Perhaps the craving for this serenity was what had prompted you from not fighting off that axe.

Perhaps, you had closed your eyes without any regrets.

When the haze in his head cleared a bit, he visited your grave again. Dust had gathered on the lifeless petals of the bluebells he’d left, the scholar tenderly rid them from the surface.

He dug a section beside your resting place and planted fresh asphodels. An elderly woman saw the scene in passing but did not comment, pity clung at the edges of her eyes.

Foolishness.

In fear of the tides of time burying the traces of your foot-steps, Ratio chased after them. The places you spoke so fondly of, the flowers and stories you cherished and the students you stood proud beside.

They spoke of your passion, your vision and your resilience to him.

They say, even a lifetime of ‘knowing’ someone is not sufficient in knowing them.

Although he’d known you for a miniscule timeframe, he squandered no effort in trying to understand you. Only at this juncture, did your nature become clear to him. You were an expert in keeping your lips shut, a seasoned performer of half-truths and no stranger to the art of survival.

It was no coy act, you trusted no one with your actual thoughts and motivations — that was the naked truth.

So then, it begs the question, what exactly did you try so hard to eradicate?

Supposing that this universe suffers from a common ailment, and it is so persistent, so adhesive, so elusive that it plagues the dullest to the most brilliant mind — that despite all attempts at curing it, only its surface has been scratched. And this truth had been so frustrating, even you could not stand back.

Ratio tapped his fingers against his desk, what other malady does an educator aspire to cure other than ignorance?

Foolishness? Idiocy? Stupidity? All synonymous, yet capable of clasping and corrupting irrespective of a person’s standing in the path of life.

To rid them, scholars, researchers and teachers attempt to disseminate knowledge with the vow of indiscrimination.

But Dr. Ratio knew, the oasis of knowledge is but a mirage in the desert of ignorance. For the populace to reach that base awareness, to recognize that mirage — that, is what is needed.

The scholar saw the early light of dawn from betwixt the crevices of his window, the hinges groaned as he pushed them open and for the first time — the sun embraced him and the shadows fell behind his form.

But the meteor that briefly illuminated his sky, is gone — as tends to be their destiny. He can do nothing but carry the memories of its glow.

—

Light glinted over the edge of the cone, approaching footsteps reminded the doctor to tuck it away from prying eyes.

Ratio tsk-ed upon feeling the absence of his headpiece, cracks on the alabaster had demanded a remake.

The scholar’s eyes met with the ones cradling the remnants of a bygone sunset, melting into hues of ocean blue.

“Doc! Didn't expect to see you here.” drawled an unfortunately familiar man. Ratio offered a blink in greeting.

“Yes, how astonishing it is to see a member of the Intelligentsia Guild in its corridors.” the doctor muttered plainly, the Stoneheart in the spotlight merely maintained his smile.

Ratio noticed his other hand to be occupied, “And what about you? Busy squandering your time as usual, gambler?”

Contrary to his expectations, the quirk of Aventurine’s lips widened as though he’d struck gold, he smoothed over the lapels of his suit. The erudite scholar subconsciously braced himself for whatever trick was to be brought next.

“Now now, it's not squandering if you're spending it with a dear person.” he winked.

Veritas caught a silhouette peeking from behind the blonde, “Meaning?”

“Ah, how uncourteous of me.” though there's a note of glee in his voice. “Allow me to introduce you to…”

Dr. Ratio observed as a figure emerged from Aventurine’s shadow, the passing question of how he hadn't noticed them sooner was pushed aside as they joined the Stoneheart in the spotlight.

“My dearest, precious jewel or— how did you prefer it again? Hmm I can't seem to remember~” an elbow to his side and huff broke through his theatrics ; the vacant halls gained life through laughter, petrichor bloomed in their notes.

“Just kidding, my bluebell.”

A meteor crossed the orbit of Ratio’s life again.

© harmonysanreads | do not cross-post, translate, plagiarise, copy on a different platform or use my works to train ai.

Thank you so much for reading!

TAGLIST : @abyssmal-skies @danijaci @birdloverr @teabutmakeitazure @cherriiirose @bleh09 @scurfi @justcallmemidnight @mochinon-yah @feral-ish @lavandulawrites @persicipen @stickyspeckledlight

[jjkbambi]

is it new years yet? luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! you run into ex-boyfriend!luigi mangione at a nye party! smut!

warnings: fratboy!luigi, darkfic (very much implied he slips something in ur drink), cnc?, long fic, mentions of calvin harris music, inspired by the fact that he had to nominate himself to win this category

the new year was meant to feel different.

yet, the doors at phi kappa psi open for you and a chances of anything more seems to slim. a record number of beer cans trashed in the hallway, the kitchen buried in chaos, and the overwhelming stench of beer clings to the air, impossible to ignore. you were surprised at how easily they’d let you enter—the bouncer was known for being a bit mean, strict on names and IDS and ages and sorority associations, yet one short smile was enough to get you and your best friend, lacy, into their annual new years eve party.

there wasn’t a second break from avicii or calvin harris, the crowd bouncing with red solo cups in hand. about a dozen of drinks were spilled on you already, and you were sure this was an indicator of a good night.

“is that him?” your friend’s nudge proves your prophecy wrong. your stomach drops immediately as you turn to the direction she was staring in—and yes, there he was, shirtless and six-packed on new year’s eve, surrounded by his pack of fraternity brothers.

the world suddenly feels so much smaller. you turn quickly. “lacy, he cannot see me.”

“have you spoken since the breakup?”

“if i had, id be in classier heels,” you retort, shaking your head.

you show her the reason you’ve been off your phone so much recently. about 34 days since you’ve seen each other in person, and a stunning 78 texts and 29 missed calls left in lieu of a breakup conversation. it honestly felt like too little an amount considering how long you’d been dating, but perhaps that was the least of your relationship problems, seeing as though you’d caught him making out with another girl at a football game.

she groans. “why’d we have to come to this house?”

“free entry? fireworks?” you come up with a lie that’ll make the both of you feel better. “i honestly don’t think we’ll run into each other. it’s such a big place.”

“he’s walking over here.”

“aaand we’re moving,” you sing, dragging her into the crowd of calvin harris enjoyers. for two hours, slipping in and out of the chaos seemed to be a surefire solution in avoiding your ex-boyfriend. that is, until you turn and suddenly your best friend isn’t there. you stiffen immediately, backing into the kitchen. in that step back, you bump shoulders.

“y/n,” an all too familiar voice says.

oh for fucks sake.

you smile tightly at the sight of luigi, trying not to make this already awkward situation more awkward. he looks different than he did the last time you’d seen him. his usually short hair had grown out longer, his beard more prominent. he looks… grown.

“hey!” you say, attempting to make a swift getaway. “happy new year, man!”

“get back here.” he grabs your wrist, pulling you right back to him. “what’re you doing?”

“it’s new years!”

“what are you doing here? wearing that?”

you smile, feigning innocence. “getting a re-fill!”

luigi’s eyes were dark and his grip firm. your air of innocence is almost completely defeated at his warmth, his body leaning into you, intent. “i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

no, you can’t do it. this was gonna be a new year for you. no setbacks, no cheating ex-boyfriends.

“i’m surprised you even noticed, with all your other distractions.”

luigi’s head tilts. “what does that mean?”

“you know what it means.” you pull away from him with as much force as possible. “seriously, lu, it’s over.”

“no, it’s not.” he argues. you shake your head as you walk away. “y/n, we’ve got to talk about this—“

“just leave me alone!” you leap out of the kitchen as soon as opportunity arrives, and pour the entirety of what’s left of your cup into your mouth. the wicked sting of alcohol had never been so relieving.

minutes pass but the sound of avicii is constant. phi kappa psi has promised fireworks and began to gather in the backyard and you want nothing more than to join in on the party—but lacy. your best friend. you need to find her. the recovery mission begins with a stumble down the hallway and a headache. it’s more than a headache, it all of a sudden feels like you reallyreallyreally need to take a nap.

“hey, hey, i’ve got you,” it’s luigi again. you can tell by his warmth and his scent and the way he grabs your hand. “where are you going?”

“lacy.”

he takes the drink out of your hand, then lifts your arms to wrap them around his neck. and suddenly, the warmth of his body isn’t so intimidating anymore. “that’s not my name.”

“i know.”

he leans in closer. “come on then, what’s my name?”

“lu,” you murmur. “i need to go.”

“you’re not going anywhere.” luigi promises you.

within a second, his lips are on yours, and suddenly his warmth is everywhere. you whimper into the kiss, trying to spell out protest but you’re too weak. “relax for me,” he tells you.

you were entirely too relaxed. any reasonable part of you wouldn’t allow for him to be this close. but before you can stop him, his hands slide down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you. he’s so hard.

“i love this dress on you,” he murmurs.

desperate, you try to push, “no, no, we need to find—”

“we’re taking care of her, too, baby, don’t worry.”

you squirmed underneath his touch, which only made the friction hotter. “what?”

he doesn’t care to tell you anything more grinding into your resistance mercilessly as his hands clamp around your hips, rocking your body back and forth on his thigh.

“you’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, you know,” he grumbles into the kiss, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle in your core. every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasp when he goes to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. “walking around my house dressed like a fuckin’ slut. got me all worked up in front of everyone.”

you despise the helplessness that washes over you as he holds you down. tears sting at your eyes as you beg, “lu, stop.”

“pull your dress up,” he orders, drinking in your scent. his scruff scratches your skin.

“no.” you shake your head again, though his kisses are persistent. “luigi, we can’t.“

“you’re right,” luigi agrees, chuckling into another kiss. “i’m not fuckin’ sharing you.”

his lips don’t leave yours—theyre all over your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your tits—as he carries you into the nearest room, and you���re too lost in the moment to notice whether it’s his own. your dress hits the floor and his hands are all over your nude. the mix of confusion and pleasure leaves you breathless. before you can process it, you’re on the bed with your ex-boyfriend on top of you.

“you know how many other guys were looking at you tonight?” he growls as he flips you over. “swear ill fucking kill them”

he was so big and your body was so unprepared that you’d screamed, which only made luigi laugh. a choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time.

“fuckin’ knew it,” lu groans. your teeth sink into your lips as you tremble underneath him, his hard length relentless in its assault. “knew you’d take it f’me like this, yeah? like a good fuckin’ girl.”

the bed shook beneath you as he pounded into you. he goes to bite your neck, his curls tickling your skin. he feels so good, but the weight of how wrong it is lingers in every touch. “lu,” you moan.

“what?” he says, smug. “what d’ya wanna say?”

“it hurts,” you whine.

”i don’t care,” luigi says in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “you know how fuckin’ long it’s been since ive had you? no, you’ve got no clue. drove myself crazy thinking i’d never have this pretty pussy again.”

“it’s your fault—“

“shut the fuck up.” his hand comes down hard on your ass and a whimper slips from your lips. he growls low, feeling how tight you’re holding him. “you’re mine,” he grunts. “don’t you ever forget that.”

“luigi, wait,” you moan, your mind going blank. it’s too much—wrong in every way, yet too good to resist.

you feel him smirk against your neck. despite yourself, you felt your cunt clench hard around his stiff length as a flood gushes from your trembling core. he chuckles darkly, mocking your resistance. “can’t take it? too much?”

“lu, please.” your voice was embarrassingly breathless. he goes faster, which felt entirely impossible.

he must’ve heard the plea this time, because he doubled his efforts. he picked up the pace of his thrusts, fucking you hard and fast, spanking your ass mercilessly while his other hand went to massage your clit. you could hardly breathe.

“so good,” he groans. “be a good girl and cum for me, princess. all over me, come on.”

“please,” you whimper again. you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but it hardly mattered. the most devastating orgasm of your life was building deep within you, an unstoppable force growing stronger with every moment—and you were desperate to chase it.

“you’re all fucking mine,” he laments. “i wanna hear you say it.”

you couldn’t possibly. your mind goes blank as he ruts into you, pounding into your cunt and ass so hard that the clapping of his hips against your skin was filling the room and almost drowning out the sound of the new year celebration.

“tell me what i wanna hear.” he demands.

“yours,” you mewl.

“good girl.” he bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. he fucks you harder, faster, slamming into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave a mark inside you.

you couldn’t take it anymore. your pride snaps inside you and you felt liquid gush between your thighs, coating his massive cock in your cunt. pleasure consumes you until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else. he groans at the sight of your orgasm, his cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

luigi grumbled a soft, “fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock deep into your still pulsing cunt as he came. he let out a long moan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

“i’m so glad you came around, so glad,” he murmurs, turning you over to kiss you over and over and over again. “i love you, baby, you know that, right?”

the day after

[eroscomet]

Cellmate Prisoner 516

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Pairing: Vi x Prisoner!Reader

Warnings: Mentions wounds and violence (I think that's all.)

Word count: 2.1k+

A/N: Hey, lovelies! So, recently I finished Arcane and I immediately got to writing after finishing it. I'm thinking of releasing a Cait fic as well but i'll see how this Vi fic does first. I hope you guys like this, and i'm not sure if anyone else has done this idea yet. Let me know if you guys would want me to continue releasing chapters for this fic! If this is your first time reading my work and enjoy it, there's more on my page! I'm sorry in advance for any probable mistakes.

Proof read.

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Days in Stillwater seemed to blend for the inmates, especially those who knew they’d never return to normal civilization. The inmates had created a community there in the prison. It was rare to see inmates fight, most who did were newer inmates who didn’t understand that everyone in there had long accepted their fates. They weren’t willing to fight after they’d come to terms with the fact that they were to be bound by the walls of the prison for life along with the others. Why hold a grudge, right?

However, the lack of fights didn’t mean total peace for the inmates at Stillwater. Enforcers were often the ones who'd steal that peace that inmates tried to keep. If anyone were mouthy for even a second, it’s a beating with the enforcers that they’d face for it. Most were driven to stray away from having fights with the enforcers. There's a saying that goes around, you become the uniform you wear, whether it’s a prisoner uniform or an enforcer uniform. 

That always stood, inmates knew their place and enforcers forced theirs. All but one inmate applied to this saying, inmate 516. The livewire, the undoing of the enforcers, the one with all the audacity. If not called inmate 516 by enforcers, most around the prison knew her as ‘Pink’, a name that she gained from the color of her hair. She had resilience, fight, a fire in her that never ceased. No matter how many times enforcers would beat her for her mouthy talk, it never stopped her.

She’d once roamed the prison on the higher levels where land and nature were still visible. Where the air she’d inhale was the same air as everyone else’s. The more she causes a commotion, however, the lower the level she’d be taken. She never stopped her ‘fuss’, so eventually she made it to the lower levels with the inmates who would never see the light of day or breathe fresh air from the outside. 

Constantly being placed in new areas of the prison, different levels, different blocks, different cellmates. Anything to piss enforcers off, she’d always thought ‘If they’re getting a kick out of my misery, I can at least get one as well’. She lived by that in prison. Her previous cellmate had complained so much about having her as a cellmate that enforcers had finally had enough and moved her to another cell.

This happened to be your cell. Tidy, an organized mess, if you will. You didn’t talk much to the other inmates, only when you’d require trading for different materials. You had a knack for the creation of all kinds, sketching, building, and mapping. Pink, however, had a knack for destroying of all kinds, kicking, punching, training for whatever it was that she’d often mutter angrily about.

“Great, now I'm paired with Mute here.” She groaned as enforcers pushed her into the cell before shutting it. People in the prison had created a nickname for you since you’d never bother to tell them, Mute, they called you for your lack of speech. Which was a choice for you, after realizing that if you’d stopped speaking, people would simply assume that you were mute and wouldn’t have to bother with other inmates.

When she was pushed into the cell, you had momentarily looked away from the sketch on the cell desk. Your eyes met hers, anger was all that you could see in the glint of her eyes. She had a lot of rage, for a reason that you did not know.

“Don’t stare at me like that.” She nearly spat as she looked at you. Your expression hadn’t faltered as well as your gaze on the pink-haired girl. 

“Whatever, at least this time I didn’t get paired with someone who can’t shut up.” She threw her pillow onto the empty cell bed before sitting on the edge of it. Your silence with the inmates at times caused a bit of a ruckus, not all were happy with the fact that you wouldn’t respond to their conversations or threats. Sometimes they resulted in a one-sided fight.

You never fought back, you felt no point in doing so as the inmates loved to bring along a friend or two to accompany them to their ‘fights’. They’d say they were teaching you a lesson by beating you up, a lesson you obviously never understood considering the fact that this often reoccurs with other inmates. You could feel her eyes examining your black eye as you returned your gaze to your sketch.

“Why do you let them do that to you?” Her voice seemed a bit softer and inquisitive as she spoke. You had paused for a moment before deciding to shrug and continue to sketch.

“Tch, why did I even bother asking?” Her words seemed more like a statement to herself than a question as she responded to your silent statement of shrugging, “That is exactly why, because you don’t speak. I can see how that makes people get all worked up.”

Her eyes averted from your black eye to the desk, watching your pencil move swiftly, “What’s this?” She asked curiously as she neared your desk, grabbing a gadget, you quickly swiped it out of her hands. She put her hands up in surrender as she saw you defensively hold the gadget to your chest.

“Hey, hey. I meant no harm, I was just asking.” She said with her hands still up. For a moment, you looked down at the gadget against your chest. You extended your hand and allowed Pink to examine the item. She recognized it as the headpiece of her little sister, Powder,’s grenades, the signature colorful drawings on the headpiece.

“Where did you get this?!” She asked, now with a bit of hostility. Your lack of response angered her as you extended your hand as if asking for the item back, and she quickly slapped it angrily. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you'd expect it from the other inmates, but Pink? With the way that she is with enforcers, it shouldn’t be surprising but it was. You held your hand with the other as you brought it to your chest, still feeling the stinging sensation.

“What do you know about this?!” She asked, her voice momentarily faltered, barely caught by even your own ears. The way that you seemed clueless to what she was saying, gave her the answer she needed. She scoffed as she tossed the headpiece of a flame chomper to you. You quickly caught it in your hands, safely putting it under your pillow away from Pink. 

“I’d get more out of talking to a wall.” She said with a scoff as she got into bed, shifting onto her side to face the wall.

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About two weeks passed since Pink had become your new cellmate. At first, she had been holding a grudge with you, giving you the silent treatment in return which you didn’t at all mind. You had always preferred silence. Eventually, she broke and began speaking to you, despite not hearing a word in return.

“I want to apologize for what happened a couple of weeks back..” She said as she continued punching the wall as she so often does, you’d taken note that this was a habit of hers to do every day. You’d gotten used to it quickly, assuming it was another ‘training’ thing of hers. 

“It’s just that I recognized that piece—the drawings. My little sister used to make gadgets and draw on them. Bombs, particularly.” She said as she paused her punching, staring at the wall as she spoke. This made you pause as well, the headpiece of the fire chomper in your hand. Your finger had been lightly caressing the cool metal, looking over your shoulder for a moment as Pink explained further.

“I guess it triggered something in me. I'm not a bad person, " she said as she caught your gaze.

You stood up, padding over to her and gently grabbing her hand. You opened her hand and placed the headpiece on her palm before moving her fingers to close around it. After the action, you sent her a small smile, to which she responded with a surprised look.

“You really don’t have to-” She began to speak before you had moved her hand to her chest. You gave her a nod, to which she finally understood. She nodded in return, understanding that you were giving her the item.

“Thank you..” She said quietly and hesitantly. You nodded once more as you returned to your desk. The two of you were silent for a moment before she put the item into her pocket and began punching the wall again. 

“Her name was Powder.” She said, speaking up after having punched the wall a few times. 

“I don’t know if she’s alive or not but what I do know is that when I get my first shot out of here, I'm going to find her. Or at least the man who took her from me.” Her voice was determined like she had thought about this many times.

“That man..took everything from me. He. Will. Pay.” She said a bit more aggressively now as she landed a harder punch on the wall. You winced at the sound, knowing that if it were you punching the wall like that, it would’ve hurt but Pink seemed to handle it like it was nothing.

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Time with Pink in your shared cell felt a little less tense than your first meeting with her. She had gotten a bit more comfortable and you knew that from the way that she’d open up a little every once in a while with stories of her past. She talked of her father, whom she seemed very fond of from the way she spoke of him, she talked of her sister Powder a lot, small stories of memories when the two were younger that warmed your heart.

You’d see that she was a lot more cooled down, with fewer fights with the guards as well as reduced ‘training’, she now seems to only punch the wall a couple of days a week. Everything seemed fine until a new inmate arrived, a man who was bald with many tattoos that seemed to run through his entire body. You’d heard the news that Pink had beaten him up with a tray during dinner, breaking his jaw. When returning to your cell, she was smug but also seemed bothered by the situation.

She muttered to herself as she sat on the edge of her cell’s bed, “A week without leaving the cell, that’s what they gave me.” She said as she looked at you, her gaze was hardened. Your jaw is slightly clenched with a bit of worry for the girl.

“No meals, nothing. That prick deserved what was coming to him. He knew it from the look in his eye when he saw me.” She muttered with a scoff.

One of the perks about trading often with the cook at Stillwater meant special treatment. Often the cook gave you a bit of a better meal or something for dessert. For the next three days, you had snuck food back into your cell for Pink to eat.

“How’d you get this brownie anyway?” She asked with her mouth stuffed, you shrugged it off to no surprise.

“Any news on bald guy?” You shook your head in reply to her question. “Good, I hope to hear not a peep out of him after that.”

There it was again, the rage in her eye you had seen when she first came into your cell. She was angry again, more now that this man was in Stillwater. But you couldn’t figure out why.

“He’s a part of Silco’s henchmen. Dirty rat finally got caught.” She said with a scoff as she continued to eat. You hesitantly placed your hand on her shoulder, she looked up at you with surprise. She sighed as she paused, once again allowing her shoulders to no longer be tensed.

“Yeah, I know. He just..ticks me off.” You simply nodded to her words in understanding before gently patting her shoulder. 

“Thanks anyway, for the food or whatever..” She mumbled as she continued to eat, you smiled softly before heading to your desk as you usually do. A bit of silence came over the two of you before she spoke.

“Do you like that they call you Mute here?”

You paused for a moment as you shook your head.

“Then why do you..not talk?”

You seemed to be in thought as you shrugged again.

“I'm not trying to be mean but maybe people would get off your case if you spoke. Can you even speak at all?” To which you nodded to her words, she only took a moment to examine your face which had healed from the black eye she first saw you with.

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A/N: Guys, let me know what you guys think. If you guys want me to make this a series or not, if it is, it might be a little bit of a slow burn, I will include the other characters later on as well. Thank you so much for reading, new readers can check out my works on my page. Everyone is welcome to request stuff as well!

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 10

Just a reminder no posting next week, as I have to recover from the holidays and all the fics I wrote.

Eddie throws a homecoming party and friends get hella pushy, so both Steve and Eddie push back

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Pt 7 Part 8 Part 9

~

The next night Eddie threw a coming home party and invited all the people Steve had hired, the D&D boys (Mike and Dustin), and even let Steve bring Robin as his plus one.

As Steve walked in with Robin, he instantly spotted three men he didn’t know. The broad-chested black man was talking to Charles in one corner of the room, while the other two, a heavy set man and a short, curly haired man was talking to Dustin. And judging from how animated they were getting, Steve was gonna bet they were talking about D&D.

He had even had a chance to look for their host, when Eddie came bounding up to them with a big grin on his face.

“Stevie!” he greeted warmly. “You made it! Everyone else is here at the ball, Cinderella. Come, come meet my friends.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him over to the two talking with Dustin first. “This is Bri-guy and Gare-bear!”

Steve laughed and shook their hands. “I’m the nanny.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “He’s much more than that, he’s an amazing cook and the girls love him.”

“I’m Brian and this Gareth,” Brian said shaking his head. “And we know all about you. This idiot wouldn’t stop talking about the an–”

Eddie slapped his hand over Brian’s mouth and grinned brightly at Steve. “I think that’s about enough of these two, don’cha think?”

Robin got a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “Not at all. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Robin, the best friend and platonic soulmate of Steve. We’ve been friends for ages. How long have you known Eddie?”

Gareth grinned at her, sensing a partner in crime. “Oh ages. We all went to high school together. I’m not the original drummer and Bri isn’t the original bassist, but we’re the lightning in the bottle that made Corroded Coffin what it is today.”

Eddie dropped his hand from Brian’s mouth to put his hands on his hips. “How dare!”

Brian and Gareth cackled. And suddenly they were joined but whom Steve assumed was the final member of Corroded Coffin, Jeff Lawrence.

“Are we all picking on Eddie?” he asked gleefully.

“No!” Eddie and Steve cried at the same time the other three cried, “Yes!”

Jeff snapped his fingers. “Ooh! I like her! Jeff, the better guitarist of Corroded Coffin and its lead singer.”

Eddie pushed Jeff. “Oh get out. Only for the last album when we were trying something different. It was not something the fans liked. Asshole.”

“I’ve got to tease you, man,” Jeff huffed with a grin. “It’s so easy!”

“This is Jeffy,” Eddie groused, folding his arms like a scolded toddler. “Meet Steve and Robin.”

“Nice to put a name to the faces,” Jeff said with a charming grin. “Eddie talked all about Steve so Robin’s name came up a lot.”

Steve blushed, but Robin grinned.

“Glad to hear I made it to the dispatch notes,” she said, then turned to Eddie. “I’ve got to say, I really love this house. It looks like it stepped out of pages of a gothic horror film. It’s awesome!”

Eddie took a bow. “Why thank you, my lady!” He looked around his house proudly. “That was the look I was going for. I can’t stand all this sterile white, grey, and beige bullshit that is in vogue right now. Give me color and character!”

“Have you seen what Steve’s done to his room yet?” Robin asked cheerfully, knowing full well what she was insinuating.

Eddie flushed a bright pink, shoving his hair in face to hide the blush and Steve stared at her in wide-eye, slack-jawed shock.

“Robin!” he hissed, flapping his hands at her in embarrassment and dismay.

She grinned at him unrepentantly, folding her arms over her chest and sitting back to see what Eddie would say.

“I–I um...” he coughed. “I haven’t had the opportunity to see how Steve spruced up the place, no.”

“Robin,” Steve said low and deep in warning. “Eddie hasn’t had a reason to see my rooms yet as he’s only been home for thirty-six hours.”

Robin just batted her eyelashes at him innocently. “I would have thought he would have wanted to see what you did to the rooms he’s letting you use in his house.”

The other three members of the band were falling over each other, just cackling over this exchange. Steve was red from the tips of his ears all the way down the dip in his collar. Eddie’s mind tried to follow the thought of how much further the blush went. He didn’t have to think about it long as Steve grabbed Robin and hauled her off elsewhere.

He turned to his friends. “Oh shut it. Assholes.”

“Dude,” Jeff said breathlessly clutching his sides, “like that was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever witnessed and that includes the time Gareth tried to hit on the supermodel that last Grammy’s.”

“Hey!” Gareth huffed. “I got a date out of that, I’ll have you know!”

Brian put his arm around Gareth’s shoulder. “After I told her that you weren’t as big an ass as that interaction displayed. She was going to lose your number, man.”

Gareth folded his arms and pouted. “I hate you both.”

“But seriously, Ed,” Jeff said turning his attention back to Eddie who had been trying to slip away from them before they noticed he was gone.

He failed.

“It’s obvious he has the hots for you,” Jeff continued, “so why aren’t you tapping that ass? You wouldn’t shut up about him the whole time we were on tour. It was actually kinda annoying.”

“For real,” Brian agreed. “And please I don’t want to hear how you’re not ready to get out there again after Ethan left, or how you’re paying him to look after you girls because I’ve seen him with them and holy shit they adore him.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “Guys, I haven’t been home for forty-eight hours yet. Can you not try and hook me up with my daughters’ nanny for fuck sake?” He peered around Jeff, making sure Steve was out of earshot. “I don’t really know him yet. Yes, we talked a lot about everything during the tour but I haven’t had to live with him under my roof yet. I could hate the way he takes three showers a day or whatever.”

Jeff and Brian shared an exasperated look as Brian threw his hands in the air. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and took a step back on one leg. “That maybe if me and Ethan had lived together before we got married, maybe the marriage wouldn’t have blown up like it did.”

It was a small and simple “Oh,” from Jeff, but it encapsulated all the feelings of the three other members of Corroded Coffin.

“Shit,” Gareth hissed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have pushed but we just wanted you to be happy. And you light up around Steve in a way I haven’t seen you do in years.”

“What would you know?” Eddie spat bitterly. He looked around at all of them. “What would any of you know? You scattered like kids around a broken window the second the band broke up. And where were you when Ethan left? Or when Wayne broke his leg? I appreciated the tour, it really helped me prioritize things. But you don’t get to come into my house and act like you’ve been there the whole fucking time when you haven’t.”

Eddie stormed off, leaving the three of them there with shocked expressions.

“Shit,” Jeff said, hissing out a pained breath. “He’s right. Fuck. He’s right. We should have flown out the second he told us about Ethan. But we kept putting it off until the deal about the tour came around and then suddenly we were interested in his life only when it benefited us.”

Gareth ran his hands down his face and rolled his eyes skyward. “Fuck. What kind of friends have we been? Like we’re all rich enough that hopping on a plane wouldn’t have even dented our fortunes at all. We should have been for the messy divorce and been helping take care of the girls. But what were we even doing that couldn’t have been put on hold?”

“I was the closest,” Jeff huffed. “I was in New York. Hell, I could driven down. But little shit just kept cropping up. Miranda’s health scare. Then she got pregnant and lost the baby. Which were important at the time, but Eddie needed me.”

“I don’t have any excuse,” Gareth said, shaking his head. “Because yeah, I was on the otherside of the world, but Eddie would have flown around the world a dozen times for me, but I couldn’t fly half way.”

Brian’s lip quivered. “My mom got cancer around the time, but I don’t think she would have begrudged me flying out to see Eddie. But I didn’t even give it a second thought.”

Jeff looked around the room for Eddie and spotted him standing next to Steve. Robin wandered off, leaving Steve sitting on a table, ankles crossed, swinging them back and forth, drink in hand as he listened to some story Eddie was telling him.

Jeff continued to watch as Eddie must have said something funny, because Steve threw head back and laughed.

“I think I see the silver lining to our neglect, boys,” he murmured, pointing out the tableau before them.

The other two men turned and looked. Steve was nodding vigorously, big smile on his face as he told his own story to Eddie.

“Because if we had been here to help Eddie around the house,” Jeff continued, “then he wouldn’t have gotten so desperate to hire a male nanny. Yeah, we fucked up. We pushed too hard. But damn boys, look at what grew in that barren wasteland, anyway.”

“So it’s settled,” Brian said, “we’re all staying in Indy to help Eddie and Steve get together, right?”

Gareth nodded. “Damn straight we are. Plus those kids Steve found to play D&D, I’d stick around just to see their style.”

“Looks like Operation: Refriend Eddie is a go, boys,” Jeff said excitedly, putting his arms around both of his friends. “And maybe we’ll get a wedding out of this, too.”

~

Steve had given Robin a good talking to. Like maybe don’t proposition his boss on his behalf before the sheets had even had time to warm up, yeah?

It took some proper talking to her to before she relented and apologized. Then stomped off to find some real booze. Steve knew she was going to raid Eddie’s liquor cabinet, but considering most of it was already out, he didn’t figure Eddie would mind too much.

Then a glass of whiskey was being dangled in front of him. He looked up to see Eddie smiling down at him. Steve took the glass with a murmur of thanks.

“Here’s to interfering best friends!” Steve said raising his glass to Eddie’s.

Eddie clinked their glasses together with wary smile. “I just wish they had been around more before they started interfering in my business. They weren’t around to pick up the pieces, so they don’t get to decide when to change puzzles.”

“Here’s to that.” Steve took a drink. “Robin is just trying to make sure I’m happy and she knows how much I love this place.” He shook his head. “I’m content with being the Au Pair Boy. I don’t need anything else.”

“You are much more than that,” Eddie said fiercely. “My girls love you. You’re special, don’t sell yourself short.”

“I promise.” Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes. “I love those little girls too.”

“Don’t look now,” Eddie said with a grin, “but I think our friends are spying on us.”

Steve took a drink of his whiskey and looked up through his eyelashes and sure enough the Corroded Coffin boys and Robin were all looking over at them, trying to look they weren’t.

“Quick, laugh!” Eddie said and Steve burst out laughing genuinely. “Oh, that was perfect. Good job.”

“Learning the art of actually laughing when you’re supposed to be fake laughing,” Steve said warmly, “is a skill taught to the children of socialites like my mother from birth.”

“I wish they gave you a crash course when you become famous,” Eddie said with a weary smile, “because holy shit it’s like being dumped in a shark tank!”

Steve winced in sympathy. “Yeah, they should teach classes and stuff.”

“Annoying best friends aside,” Eddie murmured. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Steve looked up into his eyes and smiled fondly. “I am too.”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon @yesdangerpls

[five-rivers]

Smoothie Chapter 1

Started a fic based on this post. Enjoy!

.

The doors of Long Now creaked open in front of Danny, and he walked in, murmuring thanks to Long Now.  The doors closed again behind him, and once they did, Danny could hear the wonderful sound of Observants shrieking for Clockwork to do something emanating from the Viewing Hall.  

He sighed, disappointed.  Most of the time, when he visited Long Now, he didn’t come for any specific purpose, but today he’d hoped to get some help on a history paper (he didn’t even know where to start, and it was a whole ten percent of his grade by itself) and to get a snack (his parents had forgotten to get groceries earlier in the week, and the nearest grocery store had been trashed by a ghost fight, so it was unlikely they’d get any today, either).  With the Observants yelling at him, it didn’t sound like he’d even be able to hang out with Clockwork.  

The Observants would probably throw a fit if they noticed Danny here, too.  He glanced back at the doors, but Long Now had, rather coyly, in Danny’s opinion, not only barred them but maneuvered a pair of large gears and a stout chain over them.  

It looked like Long Now wanted him to stay, anyway.  He looked up.  For some reason, he always felt a little more comfortable addressing the huge clockwork mechanism at the center of the lair as Long Now, even though Long Now was the entire structure around him.  “I don’t suppose you have any snacks I can eat?”

Danny thought he could probably find his way to the kitchen on his own…  But also that it would be a bit rude to wander in and eat Clockwork’s food like that without asking.  If Long Now gave him permission, though…

The gears in the walls moved, sliding open a door on the other side of the entryway.  Danny grinned.  “Thanks!” he said, quietly.  

He followed the movement of gears and chains through narrow hallways until he reached a small, but well-appointed vaguely modern kitchen.  At first, Danny couldn’t see a refrigerator, but then a door swung open invitingly, and Danny realized that Clockwork had a walk-in fridge.  

Cool.  Literally.  

He snickered at his own joke, then stepped up to the doorway.  “It is okay for me to take some of this, right?” he asked.  The door didn’t slam in his face, so he took that as a yes.  He went in.  

Clockwork’s (cavernous) fridge, as it turned out, was as meticulously arranged and organized as the rest of Long Now.  Each kind of food seemed to have its own dedicated and labeled space.  Wandering, Danny read Rampion - Witch’s Garden on the shelf under some salad, Turkish Delight - Charn underneath some odd, long, squarish blocks, and Pomegranates - Stygian Shores.  

He puzzled at the labels for a little while, before he realized that they must be - what did Sam call them? - cultivars.  Cultivars of different kinds of plants.  Ghostly cultivars?  They looked interesting.  Maybe later, he could ask Clockwork if he could bring some to Sam, she liked that sort of thing.  

In the meantime, though…  He looked around at all the fruit on the shelves and a bucket labeled Spirit Ice - Far Frozen and decided.  “I’m going to make a smoothie,” he told Long Now.  

There was a rustle outside the fridge, and Danny peeked out to see that a blender had been deposited on the kitchen counter.  He grinned and went back inside to find his ingredients.  

The ice first, of course.  Then, he needed some fruit.  He started to browse.  What looked good…?  The pomegranates, Sam said they were good for you, and he'd liked them when she gave him some.  Then a bowl of Snow-Ripe Strawberries - Three Dwarves’ Cottage.  The Immortal Peaches - Kunlun looked good.  He'd have to peel and pit them before putting them in the blender, but he'd have to prepare the pomegranates, too, so it wasn't an issue.  Ooh, he wondered how good Orange - Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus tasted for Clockwork to put his name on it.  Although that might just be a coincidence.  Then, Fairy Apples - Autumn Court rounded out his selection.

That was probably enough to make a decent smoothie, but he’d really like some milk, or maybe a banana, to make it thicker.  He scanned the shelves again.  He hadn’t noticed any bananas, but he was sure he’d seen milk.  There!  Looking Glass Milk - Wonderland.  It even looked like whole milk when he sloshed it back and forth in its glass container, which was better for this kind of thing than skim milk.  

He carried his loot back out to the kitchen proper and pulled out a cutting board and knife so he could get everything prepared before he tossed it in the blender.  He’d wash up as soon as he was done.  

First the ice (a little hard to chip into useable chunks, but his own ice powers helped), then he opened up the pomegranate by cutting off the ends and scoring the sides so he could peel them away (and he didn’t make the kitchen look like a crime scene, so take that, Sam).  He brushed off the seeds into the blender.  They looked kind of cool, the little seeds sifting down between the larger chunks of ice.  Then, he plucked the stems off the strawberries and cut them in quarters before dropping them in (that always made them blend a little better when he was at home).  He decided to juice the oranges, rather than dropping in whole slices, since the skin of the sections might not blend well.  That left the apples, which he cored and cut into little chunks, and the peaches, which he dithered over.  He’d never actually peeled a peach before, but although he didn’t mind the fuzzy outside when he was eating slices, he didn’t want the little hairs in a smoothie.  Eventually, he decided to just go for it.  It didn’t matter how mangled the pieces were before they went into the blender, after all.  Finally, he poured the nice, thick milk over the whole thing, filling in all the nooks and crannies.

Danny made sure the blender lid was securely fastened before he started to pulse it.  He’d made the mistake of not checking once before.  Thankfully, any large kitchen mishaps at home could be blamed on the hot dogs, so he’d gotten out of that without getting in trouble.  

Soon, the contents of the blender were a nice, smooth, thick, pink with a few dots of darker colors here and there.  He found a glass big enough to hold the smoothie in one of Clockwork’s cabinets, then poured it in.  

On the other side of the kitchen, a door creaked open, and Danny, holding the smoothie, investigated.  The room on the other side was the cozy little dining room that Clockwork sometimes served Danny tea in.  

“Thanks,” Danny told Long Now again, before finding a seat.  He’d drink his smoothie here, then clean up the kitchen, and if Clockwork was still arguing with the Observants… well, Danny should probably go home at that point…  He sipped his smoothie.  Oh, that was good.  He took another, deeper gulp. 

The smoothie was very good, in fact.  One of the best he’d made, if he did say so himself.  All of the flavors balanced perfectly, and the temperature and texture were just right.  Although they might not be for someone who wasn’t a cold core ghost.  The good thing about having ice powers was that he never got brain freeze anymore.  

Leisurely, Danny drank his smoothie.  He didn’t trouble himself to drink it very quickly.  He wanted to stay long enough for Clockwork to finish with the Observants.  He at least wanted to say ‘hi.’ 

But by the time he finished the smoothie, Clockwork was still nowhere to be found.  He sighed and carried his empty cup back to the kitchen.  What he really wanted to do was find a comfortable place to curl up in and go straight to food coma land, but he really couldn’t leave Clockwork’s kitchen like that.  

He put the blender in the sink to soak a little (he should have done that before, but he’d forgotten), then washed the cutting board and knife.  There were some crumbs in other parts of the kitchen - and those were not from him - and a few places were dusty, so Danny wiped those down.  Long Now helpfully produced a broom and dustpan, and Danny swept the floors as well.  Then, he went back to the sink and started taking apart the blender.  

The door of the kitchen swung open and Clockwork flew in, shoulders tense and tail flicking with agitation.  He made a beeline directly for Danny.

“Oh, hi!” said Danny, raising the pitcher part blender.  “I was just cleaning up–”

“What did you eat?” asked Clockwork.  He didn’t sound mad, exactly, but there was an urgency in his tone that put Danny immediately on edge.  

“A smoothie?”

“With what in it?”

“Um, some of the stuff from your fridge,” said Danny, gesturing with the blender.  “Some milk, ice, and fruit?”

“What exactly?”

“Um,” said Danny.  “Snow strawberries, eternal peaches, a pomegranate, a clockwork orange, fairy apples, and…  I think that was it?  And the milk and ice.”

“Show me what you took,” said Clockwork.  

“Okay,” said Danny.  “I’m sorry, Long Now opened the door, and I asked if it was okay, I didn’t mean to take stuff you were using later…”

Clockwork’s lips had gone very thin, and Danny could see wrinkles spread out from the corners of his eyes and mouth as he aged forward.  

“Sorry,” Danny said again.  

“It is not your fault, but I must see what it is that you ate.”

Danny nodded and went into the fridge.  He pointed out each place that he’d taken something from, even the ice and milk.  He had gotten some of the names wrong, but he was pretty sure he got everything.  

However, with each thing Danny pointed out, Clockwork looked more and more stressed.  Even when Danny had just taken one fruit out of a whole basket.  

“I’m sorry,” repeated Danny, tapping his fingers together nervously.  He didn’t entirely understand what he’d done wrong, but it was clear he’d screwed up.  “I don’t know these cultivars, but I can get you new fruit from the store or something?”

Clockwork turned to him, face grim.  “These labels are not cultivars.  Rather, they are not only cultivars.  They are the places they come from.  These pomegranates from the River Styx are the brothers and sisters of the one that bound Persephone to Hades for half the year.  The apples are the ones that the fae of the Autumn Court use to trap people in their realm.  The orange carried with it some of the Laws of Mechanus, although I do not know how those will behave exposed to the other fruit.  None of these things were for eating.  They are dangerous and powerful things those Realms have given me as gifts.”

“Oh,” said Danny, feeling very small and stupid.  

Clockwork rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “If the Observants had not blocked me, I never would have allowed Long Now to even show you this room.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” asked Danny.  “Should I try to throw up or something?”

“No,” said Clockwork.  “It is far too late for that.  As for what will happen…  If it were only one or the other of them, then the effects would be clear.  There would even be some precedent for eating one then another.  But when you ate them all at once, all blended together…”  He shook his head.  “Regardless, you cannot be left bound.  We will have to negotiate for your release.”

���Release?” asked Danny, feeling queasy.  

“From the obligations you incurred by eating those things.  Some of them, I think, will not be so difficult.  Others…  There are some things I must put into order before we can leave.  Stay here.  And do not sleep.”

Clockwork left the way he’d come, leaving Danny alone in the kitchen once more.  There was something smug about how the door latched itself.  

“You tricked me,” said Danny, reproachfully.  

The ticking in the walls sounded like giggles.  He didn’t receive any other response.  

With nothing else to do until Clockwork came back, Danny finished washing the blender.  

[fleuryuns]

presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS

as the earth burns to the ground,

lay here with me

IN WHICH it takes an asteroid hurdling toward earth for you and jay to be pulled apart, and then brought back together—but it's worth it

PAIRING ⟡ wealthy (ex)bf!jay x scientist!femreader

UNIVERSE ⨯ end of the world au

WARNINGS ⟡ inspired by as the world caves in by matt maltese, exes to lovers, arguments, some platonic!jake thrown in there, ambiguous ending, elements from the movie don't look up, inaccurate portrayal of astrophysics and high school debate clubs

WORD COUNT ⨯ 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . starting again with the first fic i ever posted!!

"It's a silly rumour!" he said, exasperatedly.

You told him, "A rumour?! We've estimated its trajectory, analyzed dozens of possible routes, calculated probabilities... You can't deny the research, Jay!"

It was hard to believe that your relationship had come down to this. Had come down because of this.

You and Jay met during a high school debate tournament. His school had been reigning champions for years, until you joined your school's team and beat them. Jay was both annoyed, but impressed by your quips and arguments. He caught up with you after the match, and the rest is history.

High school sweethearts from rivalling schools, a true Romeo and Juliet reenactment.

The two of you went on to attend the same university in different programs. You—garnering a PhD in mathematics and physics, in order to pursue your lifelong dream of becoming an astrophysicist. Meanwhile, Jay went into marketing to one day take on the family business.

Although pursuing very different paths, you always came together at the end of the day. You'd often stay over at his apartment, large as it was, and watch movies together, cook new recipes he thought you'd like, whatever it is you both wanted to do, as a pair. Soon after graduation, you officially moved in with him.

Of course, you weren't perfect. You argued, you disagreed. There were a few significant arguments that led to you slamming the door on your way out.

But it always came down to how you first met. A good debate, a good argument, happens only when both sides respect each other, and don't let their emotions take on the best of them.

So, after every argument, you or he would call the other to apologize. Or, you'd wake up the next morning with a bouquet of roses with a handwritten note attached to it. Or, instead, you'd walk over to his place in the pouring rain, asking for forgiveness.

What brought you two together, however, eventually became what tore you apart.

During debates, Jay prioritized feelings over facts, in the sense that he would take on logical, everyday thinking to tackle the problem, usually winning over his opponents because they often lacked realism. You, on the other hand, gathered the facts and tackled the issue head on. In that way, you balanced each other out.

In another way, neither of you truly ever saw eye to eye.

You just didn't see it until word of an asteroid heading toward Earth came around.

You were ecstatic to be the one to discover the asteroid. At the time, its trajectory seemed to be close enough to Earth that it would be seen by an average telescope on the night it passes by.

"And my name will be on every article talking about it," you told him, wearing a proud smile.

Jay looked at you sweetly as you went into depth, ways that he certainly didn't understand fully, but he still listened intently because he knew it mattered to you.

Then, with further research, you discovered that you wouldn't even need any equipment to see the asteroid fly by.

"We could make a date out of it," he suggested. "When is it passing Earth?"

You continued to stir the pasta, humming at his words. "In about three months," you clarified.

You yelped when you suddenly felt his arms wrap around you. Leaning your head back comfortably onto his shoulder, you let him give you a short kiss. "Maybe we could invite the gang and set up a get together on the building's roof?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Within weeks, the morning tabloids were filled with new information revealed about the asteroid that you and your team discovered. Threads of information were shared on social media, and your name was attached to it everywhere. You felt a sense of pride whenever you checked your phone in the morning, scrolling through dozens to hundreds of comments congratulating you on your discoveries.

One morning, you woke up to a new headline greeting you:

Asteroid Heading Toward Earth: Here Is How To Prepare.

"Huh," you asked yourself, sitting up on your elbow to scroll through the article. You read some more and discovered there were more calculations done overnight by the rest of the team after you left earlier the night before, calculations proving a change in direction.

It was then that you noticed the seven missed calls from your team members. You mentally cursed yourself for being a heavy sleeper.

You quickly called the team leader first, and they barely greeted you before asking you to come to the lab.

"What's the hurry?" Jay asked from the kitchen. You rushed behind him to place a chaste kiss to his cheek, heading to the door to slip on your shoes, with your bag almost falling from your shoulder in the process. "I'm making pancakes."

"Check the tabloids. It's bad."

He frowned. "Yeah, I saw," he said with an unreadable expression. For a situation so serious, his voice seemed to toe the line of mockery too closely. "There's no way it's real, love, don't worry about it."

You stopped in your tracks with your hand still on the handle. "Sorry?"

"Are you serious? An asteroid heading toward Earth?" He raised his eyebrows. "C'mon, we're not in a movie."

"This is serious..." you told him slowly. "Just 'cause it's the first time something like this has happened, doesn't mean it's not real—" You shook your head. "—Look, I have to go. I can tell you about it tonight."

And, sure enough, you spent the day proving the team's theories from the evening. The asteroid was surely coming toward Earth, in approximately nine weeks. At that moment, you weren't able to estimate the true extent of the damage that it would bring, but it would be bad, you knew that well enough.

Jay didn't.

"Don't be ridiculous, Y/N," he said.

You had to take a step back, close your eyes and take a deep breath to make sure you didn't scream. "You don't trust me." The statement was short, but garnered a large reaction.

"Excuse me?"

"That's what you're saying," you explained. "You don't believe my research. I can show you my notes, I can call the team leader for confirmation. Yet, you don't believe me."

He scoffed at you. Looking around, Jay sputtered out half-finished words, taken aback by your confrontation. "I trust you, Y/N, I just—"

"Just what?!" you interrupt, throwing your hands in frustration.

"Park Enterprises has already disproved it."

You wait for him to continue, but he looks at you as if that was enough explanation.

Out of pure disbelief, you let out a half-breathed laugh. "No, this is ridiculous," you throw his own statement back at him. Classically using his own words to turn the tables.

"My father's team has been tracking that exact same comet you're all after, and their studies show that it won't be coming near Earth, not by ages." It was unbelievable the absolute lack of hesitance in his voice. The confidence, which used to draw you into his arguments, repulsed you. "They have better funds for their research, it's much more developed."

This had you looking around for an audience, waiting to hear the laugh track in the background because his speech was straight out of a comedy. "You rather believe people who are solely in it for the money, people who completely disgrace their PhDs and the professors who taught them. Jay, we've laughed at them together because we both agreed they'd agree the Earth was flat if they were offered a large enough check!"

"Well, at least what they're saying now is much more realistic! Your studies don't even make sense."

"So, the date?" you ask him. "What–What was that about?"

He laughed. Laughed. "Obviously I'd take any excuse to spend time with you, love. Sure, you'd be disappointed that we didn't see anything, but I figured the night itself would've gone so well that it wouldn't have even mattered." He shrugged at the end of the words, clearly thinking that it was a given.

"I need you to leave," you told him slowly. You no longer had the energy to deal with a baseless argument. Surely you could get to him, just not then. "I need to be alone. Please."

And with that, he left.

Only a few text conversations were shared after your argument. Neither of you came forward to settle what had happened, talk it out.

Two months went by. Not seeing each other again, nor speaking in all the time that passed by.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

You look over your notes again, brows furrowed in concentration. Trying not to get distracted by the ticking of the clock, or your desk-neighbour sighing every few minutes, you scramble to find a sheet of paper you surely misplaced—because there's no way, no way that this is all you have. If it is....

Jake leans back in his chair and exhales loudly, and suddenly all hell breaks loose. "No way, no way..." you mumble over and over. "Shit! This can't be happening!"

He looks over at you in concern. You also start to hear the other scientists pushing back their own chairs, some turning around to look at what you're seeing. "Y/N? Everything okay?"

Wordlessly, or rather without any intelligible words shared, you turn your computer screen to his direction and hand him your papers.

Jake studies the notes quietly, looking up every once in a while to analyze the images and graphs from the screen to compare. Your hand instinctively comes up to your chest, trying to settle your heartbeat, if it's even possible. "Is this...." He doesn't finish. He understands.

You nod at him. Tears well up in your eyes.

"We'll send them up to Dr. Lee, and get his team to confirm everything," he eventually responds. His voice is clear, despite his own tears spilling. The other scientists come closer, leaning over Jake's shoulder, all reading until everyone is in the loop of what's going on—what's going to happen. He turns to them too. "In the meantime, we'll all go home. Spend time with your loved ones." It goes without saying that this is the last time everyone will be seeing each other.

Saying goodbye to the members of your research team is bittersweet, you learn.

Despite the pride you feel looking at them, considering everything you've learned and discovered together, it pulls at your heartstrings for it to come down to this. You almost wish you had never pursued this career path, wish you weren't even smart enough to come to these conclusions.

You hug Jake tightly at last. He's the one you've always been closest to, after all. "Thank you," he tells you, your face buried in his shoulder and finally letting the tears fall freely, since everyone else is gone. "For everything."

"You too," is all you say.

You hold onto each other for a few moments more when a pit forms in your stomach. Something different than the gnawing fear of knowing the end is near.

No, this is different.

Regret, you realize. Regret, with a mix of guilt.

You pull away from your coworker, a shaky smile on your lips that can't quite reach your eyes. "I have to go." And despite the ache of never seeing him again, you turn away from Jake for the last time and rush out of the building to your car.

As you're pulling out of the parking lot, soft melodies play from the speakers. You recognize the beat instantly.

My feet are aching and your back is pretty tired;

You resist the urge to pull to a stop and just let your eyes shut as you listen to the familiar tune. It'd be nice, but no. You know you have somewhere to be, and the radio coincidentally playing your—and his—song is only more proof that you need to do this.

And we've drunk a couple bottles, babe, and set our grief aside;

Driving down a road you've been through dozens of times brings up many old memories. You remember the first time Jay brought you to his parents' house, nervously fidgeting with your dress from the passenger's seat. He noticed immediately and placed his hand reassuringly on your thigh, risking taking his eyes off the road for a moment to meet with your eyes and ask silently: "Are you okay?"

You told him you were just fine, and that wasn't a lie.

The papers say it's doomsday, the button has been pressed;

Your phone buzzes from the compartment. Sparing a glance, you notice an alert glaring back at you, probably something along the lines of "Take immediate cover. Do not go outside. Protect yourselves."

The radio cuts out, nearly at the same time. The same announcement rings in your ears, so you swiftly turn down the volume and lean back into your seat.

You look through your blind spot for clear roads, and press the pedal harder.

We're gonna nuke each other up, boys, till old Satan stands impressed;

The nerves that have settled in the pit of your stomach ironically dissipate into a new wave of nostalgia instead as you pull onto the street, seeing the grand Park household in the distance.

Happy memories, although bittersweet, flood your mind, and you realize how grateful you are for having them.

At last, you make it to their driveway, relief washing over you when you see Jay's car parked right in front of yours. Clearly, he hasn't been staying at the apartment with you over the past couple months, so you just assumed he'd been staying at his parents' house during your time apart.

You know him well.

Walking up to the doorstep brings back a tremble to your limbs. You reach out with a shaky hand to the doorbell, ringing it once. Twice. And thrice—Like you always have.

It takes all but a moment for the door to open, when your eyes meet for the first time in forever.

"Y/N..."

And here it is, our final night alive;

It's been so long.

You could never forget what he looked like, not with his face still waking you up every morning on your phone screen. But still, seeing him in person again leaves you stunned.

"Hi." You hate the way your voice shakes on the syllable, but you conceal it with a nervous smile.

He doesn't look angry. If anything, he's surprised. Maybe even happy, if the way the corners of his mouth come up when you greet him says anything.

"Y/N," he repeats, disbelief leaking from his tone. "You're... here."

"I missed you," you say at the same time.

You share a quiet laugh before he steps aside and motions for you to come in. You follow him without hesitation.

Taking in his comfortably familiar scent that filters the air, you instinctively close your eyes when you make your way into the living room. You notice Jay doesn't sit down next to you on the couch immediately, so you awkwardly open one eye in a squint to find him standing across from you, with a small smile on his lips.

"What're you looking at?" you ask him with a teasing lilt.

"What are you doing here?"

"Have you checked the news?" Technically, you haven't either. But you know by now, from the announcement on your phone and the radio, it'll be all over every channel.

You watch Jay frown curiously and turn on the television. You're both welcomed with a pre-recorded video—as stated in the top right corner—of a newscaster anxiously fidgeting with her cue cards.

"—comet found and followed by a local research team associated with the Seoul National University is indeed heading toward Earth at a concerningly rapid rate." She pauses, looking over her notes and taking a breath. You can't imagine how it is to hear this news when you've been falsely led by the media for so long. "Park Entreprises have released a statement confirming their calculations."

You watch the colour drain from Jay's face.

"We have approximately seven hours before the asteroid collides with Earth, and causes severe to irreparable damage to the planet and all living organisms." A tear rolls down her cheek, she can no longer hold character. You notice the clip cut, before coming back, with the woman looking significantly more distraught; red in the face, tears staining her cheeks. "Please, everyone, spend this time with your loved ones. Stay safe. This has been Channel—"

Click. Jay shuts it off.

He stands in silence, staring at the blank screen. You watch him run his hand over his mouth anxiously, resisting the urge to get up and hold him.

"So... What—What does this mean?"

"The asteroid is much larger than we predicted, which means we gravely underestimated its speed." You keep your head down and voice low. You've been in this situation before and although you hate to admit it, you're afraid it won't be any different from the last time. "We thought we had at least another week before it came within radar, and with the size we had believed it was, it would've done damage, but nothing too extreme. We were wrong."

"And now we have roughly, what, seven hours before we..." He doesn't need to finish. You nod.

He runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" You think you misheard him.

Jay makes his way toward you, situating himself comfortably on the couch and turning to take your hands in his own. "I said some pretty messed up things that I no longer stand by. I should've let you talk, and I should've had the decency to listen and, at the very least, try to understand."

It's nice, you discern. Hearing what you've been wanting to hear for months. "Thank you," is all you can think to say because, well, what else is there to say?

"I think I've known that my dad's team was hiding something, or purposefully miscalculating, but I chose to ignore it," he admits. "I was scared. Fuck, I'm still scared."

"Understandably, there's a literal asteroid headed towards Earth!"

You both laugh in agreement.

"I know it's probably way too late to ask you this considering we won't be alive by tomorrow, but can we please spend these last hours together as a couple?"

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend," you tease. "Again?"

"Yes, Y/N." He rolls his eyes, but he isn't annoyed. You feel your heart pull at its strings when you see the familiar smile spread across his face again, something you haven't seen in a long time. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Of course."

You spend the first few hours helping him out in the kitchen. Jay explains that he's been there all day preparing a big meal for the family, as a surprise because they hadn't spent much time together as of late. It's much clearer to him why.

Together, you make a mess of the place. Not much with Jay's help, no. He's always been the better cook of the relationship. Clearly everyone has their specialities. You—in astrophysics and having the balls in the relationship, and him in the kitchen and being utterly stupid sometimes.

"So, is your dad coming over?" You toss a grape into your mouth, sitting on the counter top after giving up on actually helping. "He probably has some kind of vendetta against me, or something. At least I do."

Jay gives you a look.

"What," you draw out exaggeratedly. "We're scientific enemies. It's textbook betrayal."

"No, he won't be," Jay assures you. "I was hoping to make a meal for him and Mom, but one of their messengers told me they were leaving for a business trip tonight. Looks like that isn't gonna end well."

You frown. "I'm sorry..."

He shrugs it off and waves his hand. "No, no, don't be. I think I'd flip at him if I saw him, and I'd rather not spend my last moments in a screaming match with my father." He quickly washes his hands in the sink before wiping them against his apron to dry them off. "Besides, I'm here with you, and that's all that matters."

If you let a smile escape you, that's for no one to know.

The oven makes a ding! which prompts you to hop off the counter, Jay swiftly catching your movement and letting you fall into his arms. You laugh as you notice his dirty hand hovering over your body to not touch your clothes.

"Do you want to help me plate this?"

As expected, the meal is delicious. Even the burnt edges caused by your excess lathering of butter were more than salvageable. It's nothing like a grand meal at a three Michelin star restaurant, but it's damn near close enough.

You furrow your brows as you take another bite—you can't help looking angry when the food tastes good!

Jay notices. "You like it?" he asks, but not genuinely. His smile hints that he already knows.

You simply hum in response.

The rest of the meal passes by in comfortable silence. Comfortable as either of you can be.

There's some tension in the air. A mix of fear, worry, maybe even curiosity.

How else are you meant to feel on your final night alive?

Once both your plates are cleared, Jay's quick to reach and grab the dishes. You follow him to the sink with whatever else he couldn't hold and help him wash them.

You watch him thoroughly scrub at a plate that's already spotless. You don't interrupt him.

In the meantime, you clear the table. Push the chairs. Rearrange the center piece. Even take out the broom and start sweeping the main floor.

You're not sure why. It's not like it really matters. All of this will be whipped out in a few hours.

A shiver runs down your back, and you decide that you're finished cleaning.

"You wanna watch a movie?"

You settle yourselves in his bed once the dishes are done. Jay toys around with the projector before turning back to you, his face twisting in an unserious grimace.

"Oh, right," he says pointedly. "I forgot you only started dating me for my projector."

"What can I say, the richer the man, the more attractive he is." Yet, even if he didn't have a dime to his name, you would still find Jay to be the most handsome man on this dying Earth. "Come here."

Normally, he'd probably tease you for your clinginess. He'd say something along the lines of your hands being covered in glue, or make a dumb joke about magnets.

Today, though, he doesn't hesitate for a second before diving under the covers next to you, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you even closer.

It feels good, but also makes reality set in.

He feels you let out a shaky breath. "It'll be okay, love," he whispers before placing a long kiss on top of your head.

The opening credits start to roll. You try to take note of all the actors you recognize, try to remember in what movies and series you've seen them in. It calms you down. Then your mind drifts, and you start to worry about what those actors might be doing right now.

Do they know the world is ending in less than four hours? Do they know that no matter where they hide, there's no way to protect themselves?

Jay runs a finger through your hair. Your thoughts hush.

As the camera pans to the main character wiping the back counter at the diner she works at, you look up at your boyfriend. His eyes are fixed on the screen, but you can tell he's not entirely paying attention either.

You shift your position to face him better, still lying comfortably on his arm. "Why didn't you go to culinary school?" The question's been on your mind since he told you about applying for business, but you never had the guts to ask him, already being able to guess the answer.

It's always been known that Jay loves to cook. He's always found experimenting, stepping outside of the box (or the cookbook) to try new things to suit his palette. It was one of the first things you two bonded over when you started dating way back then.

You remember the first time you went to his apartment. Already from the entrance, your senses were filled with the sweet smell of pastries and fresh meat. A combination that wasn't too shabby at all.

He'd been cooking and baking all afternoon, not sure what to focus on because he wasn't familiar with your preferences yet. "Just to be safe," he had specified.

Now, his brows furrowed in thought.

"It wouldn't have worked out," he says finally.

He lightly butts his head into yours. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"

Your eyes drift down from his eyes, to his lips, to the birthmark on his neck, to your hands fidgeting with the blanket. "This is really it," you whisper into the air.

"This really is it," Jay repeats.

To think, you had planned a night with your friends for this exact event. You'd be all gathered on the rooftop, set up on lawn chairs and the terrace sofas, with an abundance of snacks, music from your shared playlist, laughter and cheer filling the air as you all watch the sky, waiting for a star, that isn't really a star, to run through the blankness, just a little brighter than everything else.

And then you would go about your lives.

Heeseung and his girlfriend would celebrate their two year anniversary.

Maybe Jake would finally gain the courage to ask the barista out on a date.

Everyone would say goodbye to Sunghoon again as he'd head off on another skating tour—or whatever the athlete does.

Jay would eventually inherit his father's business. But out of everything, that would probably take the longest. Mr. Park wasn't planning on going anywhere any time soon. Clearly he was hoping so, too.

You.... You're not so sure about yourself.

After discovering one major comet, you'd move onto the next, you supposed.

People don't ever really stop discovering things about the universe. So much of the planet you live on has gone undiscovered, let alone the infinite plane of space and time.

You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought of the millions of things that will forever be left undiscovered, until another species comes to life and starts all the way from the beginning. You realize that maybe that's the point of it all; No one is ever meant to see the end of it.

Maybe it's the moments in between that matter the most.

So, you wrap your arm around Jay's waist a little tighter. You let the voices on the screen fade away as you take in his scent, the movement of his chest as he breathes in and out, and the soft way he strokes your hair.

You tell him I love you without words, hoping he hears it, and fall asleep before you can hear him say, "I love you too."

And as the Earth burns to the ground, it's you that I lie with—It's you I welcome death with.

[heartstringsduet]

I published around 300k worth of fic this year. Which is…crazy. I also have around 150k that I wrote and haven’t published yet, which is even crazier. I’m so grateful to have had the time to heal and writing and drawing helped a lot with that. As did everyone reading these, leaving a kudo or a comment. I try to write for myself but also who am I kidding, I write for others too, so thanks if you had time to go on one of my journeys with me. I’m so inspired by all of you, honestly! Thank you! 🎉

🚨 First Aid (161 k) - AU / Hurt Comfort /

NYC AU of the both of them meeting shaped by different circumstances, that force them to lie to each other.

⛓️ In this sweet surrender (29 k) - BDSM & Kink Exploration

A vacation is what both of them need to recalibrate after tragedy and as with everything, Carlos is prepared. The bags are packed, his mind filled with every scenario of how to unravel TK completely within three days.

🥄 2AM, Kitchen Floor (23 k) - Angst - 

To TK, the kitchen is a place of joint cooking with his new boyfriend, his friends' laughter, and most of all - dread. - tw: Eating Disorder

🎉 Changed For Good (12 k +) - TK Strand centric short stories

Thirty stories of how TK's life left its marks. Tbc.

⚾ Win or Lose (8 k) - BDSM  PWP 

What if the softball game ended with nothing but TK receiving his rightful reward for winning? What if Carlos ever so slightly tweaked his plans?

👕 It's in the fabric  (2 k) - Fluff

Carlos and TK share a single powder blue sweater. It doesn't go unnoticed.

♥️ You're the cause of celebration (5 k)  - Fluff

Valentine’s Day is cursed for them. Good thing they celebrate February 20th from now on.

⛓ In grief and lamentation (11 k)  - BDSM / Grieving / 3x08

The death of his mother rips the floor out from under TK’s feet. Carlos tries to break his fall, leaning more into their dynamic to guide TK to a safer landing.

🦵🏼 What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh? (6 k) - PWP Carlos wears shorts so of course TK needs to sink his teeth into his beautiful thighs and worship every inch of his skin.

🔥 More Than That (4 k) - PWP Carlos and his breeding kink. That’s the story.

📖 In your own words (12 k) - BDSM - Grief and Kink Exploration

Ever since TK's mother died, the fantasies Carlos had allowed to roam free in the past months seem inappropriate. Ever since his mother died, TK struggles to let go and give himself to pleasure. 

🎶 Your shotgun rider 'til the day I die (4 k) - Fluff

Carlos joins his husband for the concert of his life.

🍬 Blink and You'll Miss It (3 k) - 5x01 Coda

A night spent at the station, to try and get closer to finding his father's killer. A night steeped in the compromises and sacrifices a marriage entails.

⚠️ Eyes Wide Shut (3 k) - 5x03 Coda

Carlos always had a sixth sense when it came to TK. But this time, nothing could have happened. Everything was fine.

😎 The Weight of Your Name (2 k) - Undercover AU / Angst

“My real name is Carlos Reyes,” Diego says, voice breathy and wet against TK’s cheekbone. TK stops struggling. “I love you. No matter what, that has never been a lie.”

To Come 2025:

A Few Moons Ago (100 k+) - Werewolf AU

3AM (planned) - Sequel to 2AM 

This Line Of Work - (20 k+) Angsty Canon Alternative Let Me Part 9 & 10

Glee Club AU (4 k+)

Fantasy Soulmate AU (30 k+)

AU Collab I’ll tease you with but won’t share just yet

Tagging some peeps (back): @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @ladytessa74

@freneticfloetry @never-blooms @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @liminalmemories21

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @pameluke @everlastingday @reyesstrand

@strandnreyes @butchreyes @goodways @lightningboltreader @tellmegoodbye

@literateowl @carlossreaders @henrygrass @honeybee-taskforce

@theghostofashton @orchidscript @nisbanisba @irispurpurea

@decafdino

[emsprovisions]

I'm actually so proud of what I've achieved as a writer this year! I was looking at my writing stats on ao3 the other day and I pretty much doubled my word count from any other previous year. I also started off the year in a completely different fandom from Lone Star, and only started writing fics for LS in June. So posting nine fics in six months actually seems crazy to me. I have some ambitious (for me) plans for 2025 that I am so excited about! But for now...

I'm the life you chose, and all this terrible danger 2x08 coda // T // 2.6K // Summary: TK has head trauma, but checking on Carlos is still his top priority Read if you're in the mood for soft Tarlos communication after Bad Call, and enjoy fluff and hurt/comfort

sometimes I'd rather be dead, at least then I'm with you 3x08 coda // T // 2.6K // Summary: He feels like a coward for being scared of seeing Carlos’s face when he tells him what will surely break his heart. But he won’t keep this from him. “Carlos?” He whispers. Carlos presses a kiss to the nape of his neck and the dip of his shoulder, and TK’s eyelids drop at the contact. “I have to tell you something.” Read if you're in the mood for a bit of hurt/comfort, and TK dealing with his grief while also opening up to Carlos

Hold onto me T // 6.4K // Summary: Carlos was still on the call when TK got shot, and he's been worried and wondering about their relationship status ever since. Read if you're in the mood for missing moments spanning 1x08-1x10

your back beneath the sun, wishing I could write my name on it E // 11K // Summary: During their vacation in Galveston, TK gets a sunburn and Carlos, being the amazing husband that he is, takes care of him and shows him they can still have fun during their trip. Read if you like fluffy, smutty beach vacations for married Tarlos

Guilty Pleasures E // 6.8K // Summary: Carlos Reyes has a guilty pleasure...he enjoys reading romance novels. Part of the thrill is getting to find the trashiest books he can find just so he can read the bad euphemisms out loud to his husband. But he’s currently reading this series in particular that is causing him issues in the bedroom….. Read if you enjoy silly Tarlos shenanigans, things going wrong in the bedroom, and spicy smut

hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine T // 4.8K // Summary: An exploration of how food has guided TK and Carlos's relationship through the years and how they care for each other through food Read if you enjoy seeing how Tarlos's relationship has evolved around food throughout the years. Technically inspired by 5x01

the brink of a wrinkle in time 5x05 Coda // E // 2.8K // Summary: A 5x05 Coda where TK and Carlos celebrate the morning of their anniversary and continue a much-needed conversation Read if you were not satisfied by the resolution in 5x05 and wanted more communication between the boys

I wish I had a river (It's coming on Christmas) G // 3.8K // Summary: When TK needs to be rushed to the hospital on Christmas Eve for appendicitis, he's worried he's ruined Christmas. Carlos is there to reassure him. Read if you like mild TK whump with Carlos taking care of him, as well as Reyes family fun, and Christmassy vibes

24 Days of Tarlos G // 19.4K // Summary: Enjoy 24 drabbles featuring TK, Carlos, and other members of their family or the 126 in various different holiday or wintry scenarios! There are many aus and also canon-compliant stories in this collection, please check them out, there's a bit of everything!

Tags under the cut!

Thank you so much for the tags @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @whatsintheboxmh @everlastingday @thisbuildinghasfeelings @henrygrass @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @nisbanisba @chicgeekgirl89 💕

No pressure tag for art, gifs, fics, photography, other achievements etc! @ironheartwriter @sapphic--kiwi @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlossreaders @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @decafdino @lutavero @guardian-angle22 @butchreyes @captain-gillian @nancys-braids @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @lightningboltreader @paperstorm @welcometololaland @herefortarlos @firstprince-history-huh @tellmegoodbye and an open tag ofc

[thelarriefics]

HOLIDAY FIC REC, PART V: Below you’ll find 25 fics that have to do with the holiday season.

📖 Larry Xmas Countdown 2024 by @28goldens (133k)

Different fic prompts posted across 25 days

📖 Twinkling Lights, Fated Nights by @darling-28 (87k)

A story about healing, love and finding home in each other.

📖 Home For The Holiday by @larrysmomfics (86k)

Harry needs to run away. In an attempt to get out of his own routine and his own life for a while and get over his extremely toxic ex, he decides on an emotionally fueled whim to do a house swap with someone in LA who's itching to get out of his own routine and get away from his best friend and business partner for a bit. In a quirky turn of events the best friend Liam was so desperate to get away from happens to be the most lovely, kind, and beautiful man Harry's ever met. What ensues is a self healing journey with the help of a found family, a wonderful man who becomes his home, and above all love. A "The Holiday" inspired AU where Harry meets Louis after agreeing to swap houses with a stranger on the internet for three weeks over the holidays.

📖 Secrets in Winter by @softfonds (82k)

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

📖 2024 Advent Calendar by @the-larry-way (40k)

25 independent one-shots with wintery/Christmas themes centering Larry Stylinson

📖 Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 (35k)

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

📖 You Should Be Here With Me by @lululawrence (34k)

The festive period is a traditionally hectic one in the world of Premier League football, and this year is no different. A lot is riding on how Manchester United is able to come through the fixtures in the coming weeks. Louis and his teammates know all too well the pressure that is on their shoulders. They need to prove, not just to fans of the club but the entire league, that they still have what it takes to be a team worthy of fighting for the top of the table. Throw in the fact that Louis is all too aware that he's not getting any younger in a profession that demands your peak physical fitness year round and the incredibly fit Harry Styles, who is part of the club's social media team, and this year's festive period might just be the most important one yet.

📖 I Guess I'll Surrender by @bravetemptation (29k)

A lad’s Christmas holiday provides the perfect opportunity for Louis and Harry to prank their friends. They decide to fake date. Feelings kind of get in the way

📖 We Can Roll in the Darkness by @letthemusicmoveyou28 (29k)

Or the one where Louis and his best mate Niall decide to take the plunge and open a pub. The goal is to open Christmas Day, but the building renovations are proving trickier than expected. Insert: a construction company with a questionable name, a certain curly haired builder who catches Louis’ attention, and a little festive chaos along the way.

📖 Your Reign is Free (to give along to Santa) by @londonfoginacup (28k)

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s a totally normal Christmas Eve. Harry and Louis have some friends coming by, and some totally normal birthday and Christmas plans. It’s a totally typical totally normal Christmas Eve. A fic that takes place over 24 (+1) hours where surely everything will go totally to plan. Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

📖 One for the Books by @neondiamond (25k)

Or the one where there’s a bookshop, a cat, OT5 friendship, a budding romance, and all the festive vibes.

📖 Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 (25k)

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. 💌 An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

📖 light me up, put me on top by @larrydoinglaundry (24k)

Harry takes Louis back to Northern Europe to experience his first Nordic Christmas in their beloved cabin, surrounded by nothing but peace and snow. So much snow. Short "spin-off" to 'Love is a word, you gave it a name' universe. Takes place after the second part of the main story, but before the final epilogue.

📖 Secrets, Santa? by @indiaalphawhiskey (19k)

Right, okay, so Harry had confessed his deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets to a stranger who turned out to be his boss. No big deal. This was probably just the beginning of Harry’s own hilariously heartwarming, wildly romantic Hallmark Christmas movie, come to life, right? …Right? -- very loosely inspired by Sophie Kinsella's Can You Keep A Secret?

📖 You Are The Fever (What A Lovely Way To Burn!) by @yoursolosong (18k)

Harry is an alpha who realizes he’s also into alphas and wants to be submissive. He battles between his instincts and what he wants.

📖 Christmas At Cedar Farm by @babyhoneyheslt (17k)

Inheriting a derelict farm with no knowledge on how to look after the land and a farmhouse in dire need of renovations, Harry’s stuck with two options; sell it, or do it up for himself. With the help of his friends and the cute farmer next door, Harry sees the potential and creates a Winter Wonderland at Cedar Farm.

📖 Santa, Baby by @hazzabeeforlou (16k)

Nothing in Harry’s life has gone to plan. From giving up his art dreams in favor of a stable 9-5, to singleness, to a bought with cancer that left him infertile, Harry finds himself wishing for a Christmas miracle. When one seemingly occurs, Harry meets the sperm donor of his dreams and begin to imagine the impossible. But not everything with Louis is as it seems, and soon an elusive art agent is adding to the chaos of Harry’s very unexpected holiday season. Set against the backdrop of New York City, this hallmark-style rom com is filled with a bit of drama, a drop of angst, and a touch of Christmas magic.

📖 knowing you're in love with me is the greatest gift of all by @dreamersdivin-headfirst (6k)

Harry just wants to fall back to sleep in his husband’s arms, wanting to treasure the quietness of Christmas morning before their kids wake up and realize what day it is. That dream is short lived when there’s a small shriek of joy from downstairs.

📖 I'll Show You How Good It Could Be by @lovingstheantidote (6k)

Harry makes Santa a drink and Louis gets naughty.

📖 me without you is like a present without a bow by @wecantalktomorrow (5k)

The reassurance from Louis had Harry grinning and running his hands down his husband’s sides. “I think you’re going to like it,” he murmured confidently, starting to play with the hem of his own jumper when he sat back against his husband’s bent knees. “Sorry you don’t get to unwrap it, though. Knew you’d be more reluctant to be tied up if you saw it first.”

📖 Mistletoe and Eggsnogging by @parmahamlarrie (5k)

Harry has a plan. It involves mistletoe, a night out at a club, and the hope that perhaps he might pull a nice boy tonight. The night does not go in any way like he had planned, but it all works out in the end.

📖 A Man After Midnight by @galacticlarry (4k)

Harry thought kissing Louis on New Year’s Eve would be a one-time thing, but they keep running into each other and it becomes a tradition. What happens when feelings start getting involved? Or the five times Harry kisses Louis on New Year’s Eve and the one time he kisses his boyfriend.

📖 Santa Baby (one little thing I really need) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (3k)

When Louis himself had first heard those words - all the nurses at the A&E have a secret line to Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve-, not nearly long enough ago to be considered a child himself, but long enough that he hadn't really felt like an adult all the time, he’d laughed them off. Thought they were sweet, of course, but just a line, something said to appease the kids who ended up having to stay overnight. Something to explain the presents that parents brought to the hospital on Christmas morning, or that were waiting for them at home, if they were lucky not to have to stay any longer. Something that would allow a little bit of Christmas spirit in the sometimes sterile rooms of the hospital. But that was before he’d met him.

📖 Have yourself a larry little christmas by @enchantedlandcoffee (2k)

A plan to exchange presents lead to more than both Harry and Louis bargained for.

📖 Too Many Beds - A Christmas Tale by @silverstuff50 (2k)

Louis was fine to share a room with any of the lads on their Christmas weekend away. Anyone, except the one lad he hates. He definitely hates him. He's annoying and big and gorgeous and, yeah, annoying.

[thewardenisonthecase]

Family

Lucanis character study fic.

Read on AO3

Summary: After being denied dinner, Lucanis finds a room that was never meant for him to see.

A/N: The Dellamorte family makes me insane. Also, I think I dropped the ball a bit at the end because of personal life stuff getting in the way. Anyways, tw for physical abuse of a teenager.

word count: 1234

Lucanis wouldn’t eat dinner that night, his grandmother had said. He shouldn’t be rewarded for his poor form during training. 

From the staircase, he watched her and his cousin eat in silence. When his stomach grumbled, he walked away. The good part about Villa Dellamorte is that it was big enough that he could wander around. 

And it was in these wanderings that he discovered secret passageways, behind bookshelves and hidden by paintings. He hadn’t had the chance to explore where they went but tonight’s events had brought him the perfect opportunity. 

Quietly, Lucanis made his way to Caterina’s study. He had discovered the passage by accident, while trying to find the book on wyverns. He had grabbed the wrong one and suddenly, the bookshelf moved out of the way, a vast corridor showing itself in front of him. 

He gulped but stepped forwards, pulling the lever on the side of the wall, as he heard the bookshelf moving once again. Lucanis gulped but walked forward, into the dark hallway, placing one hand on the side of the wall to make sure he wouldn’t get lost. 

Eventually, he reached a staircase that led upwards. As he climbed, he noticed a string coming down the ceiling and when pulled, revealed an opening to an attic. Once inside, he began to cough - there were cobwebs everywhere and a thin line of dust covered everything. 

There were crates everywhere. Lucanis approached one and tried to open it, but it was nailed shut. He noticed all the others were like that, impossible to open. The boy moved his attention to a large, rectangular object in the corner, covered by a sheet. 

He kneeled in front of it, taking a peek and realizing it was a painting. In one swooping motion, he removed the sheet, revealing a horizontal portrait. 

Various men and women whom he had never seen stared back at him, and it was when he looked at the center of the painting that he realized that this was a portrait of the Dellamorte family. 

His family.

Caterina had had five children and eight grandchildren, and they had all been depicted there, alongside their spouses. Their faces were not familiar to him. All of them had died before he could even learn their names.

Reaching a hand forwards, his finger traced Caterina’s face, the only one he truly recognized. She looked younger, though not by much, with less gray hairs on her hair and swore he could see a hint of a smile. 

Standing next to her right arm was a woman with dark hair and eyes, and a man stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder. The woman, like the others on the painting, dressed in dark shades of blue and purple, but on her arms, she held a baby, swaddled in a white fabric. 

Lucanis squinted as he looked closer and saw the opal ring on the woman’s finger, his eyes widening in realization. 

That was his mother, holding him as an infant. The man, his father. There was another woman, on the far side of the painting, who also held a child in her arms - Illario. Lucanis had never known how much like his mother did he look like. There were no paintings of his family to be found in the villa. No mementos, nothing. 

His gaze returned to the crates once again. From the corner of his eye, Lucanis saw a crowbar, hidden in a corner. He picked it up and made his way to one of the crates, using all of his strength to open it. 

Even more paintings inside, these ones individuals. Besides the portraits, there were leatherbound notebooks, and taking a quick look inside, he realized those were diaries and journals. Names he didn’t recognize graced the pages, all belonging to different Dellamortes. 

He opened another crate. This one contained old children’s toys and music boxes. Small shoes, fit for a baby and a blanket. Those were not his, that he knew, and much less Illario’s. Rummaging through it, he found a small locket on a golden chain. As he reached for it, he felt a searing pain in his hand. 

Looking up, Lucanis was met with Caterina’s scowling and furious face, her cane in hand. 

“What are you doing?” She asked in a low hiss, not waiting for an answer. “You were not supposed to be here.” 

Lucanis brought his hand close to him, keeping his head lowered. He bit his bottom lip, trying to swallow back his tears. That was a weakness, as Caterina had once taught him, and he wouldn’t showcase it in front of her. 

He felt the tip of her cane come underneath his chin, lifting his head up to see her. 

“Have you lost your tongue? Speak, boy.” She demanded. 

“Our family…these were their things, were they not?” He asked “Why have you hidden it from us?” 

She did not respond and Lucanis felt an anger build in him. 

“Tell me, Caterina, why did you never show any of this to me or Illario? We deserve to know about them.” She closed her eyes, turning away from him. 

Lucanis stood up, pointing at the painting “I don’t even know their names! They’re my parents, my uncles and nieces, and I know nothing about them because you never talk. Do they mean so little to you?”

He felt the sting on his cheek as the sound of a slap echoed in the attic. 

Lucanis scoffed. “That’s all you know how to do. Hurt us.”

“I do this to keep you safe.” She finally spoke, pain lingered in every word she spoke. “I was too lenient before and it cost me everything. It will not happen again.”  

Caterina looked from the painting and then to Lucanis, placing a hand on his injured cheek.  “She was much like you. Stubborn, brash and never listened to her mother.”

She looked into his eyes as she said that and he wondered if Caterina was really looking at him or was he seeing her. Lucanis took a deep breath. 

“She was your favorite.”

“Yes.” 

Lucanis took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I won’t come here again.” 

Caterina nodded and took a step back. “Go to your room.” 

He bowed his head and made his way back. He did not hear the sounds of Caterina’s screams nor the sounds of things being thrown and broken. 

No, he only walked straight to his room and crawled to his bed. He did not speak to Illario as he thought of things that could not be. He wished for a life he could not have, one with loving parents and siblings to play with, with a smiling grandma that sang him to sleep. 

A life with no pain was not the life of a Crow.

Lucanis turned around in bed, facing the wall, and reaching into the pocket of his pants, he retrieved the locket. Caterina hadn’t noticed him swiping it right underneath her eyes. It was golden and shaped like a heart. 

Carefully, he opened it. On one side, there was a small painting of a woman and a child, but this time, he recognized it as him and his mother. On the other, there was an inscription. 

Faustina & Lucanis Dellamorte. 

He traced the name with his thumb over and over again before holding it tight to his chest, sleep soon claiming him.

.

Thanks for reading! If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging it and leaving a comment, they're extremely appreciated!

[sunshinehaze1]

Sea of Love

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Summary: Javi surprises you for your birthday!

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. established relationship, fluff, smut, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected PiV, creampie, no use of y/n

a/n: I wrote this for my dear friend @80ssong for her birthday, and she was cool with me sharing it with the world! Javi G is her fave, and there is not enough Javi G fic out there! So we’re going to change that one fic at a time. Happiest of birthdays to you!! I love you! 🥳❤️ huge thank you to the lovely @baronessvonglitter for the beta 🫶🏼 I also made a playlist to accompany the fic. Javi seems like the type who would woo you with Yacht Rock love songs. 🤭 I hope you enjoy it!

word count: 2,665

ao3 | ml

You're awoken gently by one of Javi's assistants, Sophia, encouraging you out of bed. "Up, up, señorita."

In your groggy state, you turn to the other side of the bed and notice that Javi isn't beside you. You return your gaze to Sophia with a furrowed brow. "Mr. Gutiérrez would like you to meet him at the dock."

"The dock?" You question, "What for?"

"He didn't say, señorita."

You had been anticipating a lazy day in bed in your lover's arms. It was the one thing you had asked for to celebrate turning a year older: one-on-one time with Javi, an opportunity to sleep in. You're unsure why the plan has changed.

You've been with Javi for over a year, having relocated to the island to be with him. It has been a whirlwind romance. You met him at a movie premiere after-party for a film he wrote. You worked in marketing for the studio that distributed it, his sophomore production, which followed the blockbuster success of the movie he co-wrote with Nicolas Cage. 

Long-distance worked for the first few months, but it soon became difficult. Balancing the time difference and long flights with your busy schedules was exhausting. Javi offered you a role in his family's business, leading PR and marketing, and you relocated to Mallorca, moving into his lavish home. It has been absolute bliss ever since.

You suspect Javi is up to something. He's a romantic, and he loves to surprise you. There's only one way to find out what he has planned this time, so you crawl out of bed, wash up, and slip on a flowy floral dress and sandals. Before you exit your shared bedroom, you grab your sunglasses from the dresser to shield your eyes from the bright Mallorcan sun. 

As you descend the outdoor stairs, you admire Javi's handsome appearance. He's wearing a fitted baby blue blazer, striped shirt, and tan pants. His brown curls are accented with a golden hue, and his sunglasses hide his soft brown eyes. He greets you with a broad smile, and his arms extend before him. "Hello, mi amor!"

He embraces you and pecks your cheek with a kiss. "Javi, what are you up to?"

"Mi amor, it is a surprise. Come, come, they are waiting for us." He gestures toward a 60-foot yacht docked in the harbor.

"Javi!" your mouth falls open, "When did you get this?" You're still not used to a lifestyle of such extravagance and luxury.

"It arrived last week. The build, it took some time," he shares enthusiastically. "But it arrived at the perfect time. Now we can sail on its maiden voyage to celebrate your birthday!"

You stare adoringly at him, unbelieving that this is your life now. Javi's zest for life and enjoyment of every moment were among the many reasons you fell head over heels for him.

As you approach the boat, you notice the script lettering on the stern—it's your name. Javi has named it after you. Tears form, threatening to fall from your eyes; the significance of such an act is not lost on you.

Javi sees a tear roll down your cheek, and his face falls with worry. He cups your face in his hands and thumbs the tear away. "Baby, are you alright?"

It's a struggle to find the words right away. So you nod and smile, your eyes glassy, until you finally squeak out, "You named it after me?"

"But of course. It is tradition to name your boat after someone meaningful in your life, for good luck." his eyes never waver from yours. "And you, mi amor, are the most important person in my life. I am the luckiest man in the world! I love you so much!" He kisses the tip of your nose and wipes another tear before it can fall.

"I love you too, Javi."

He grabs your hand and walks you toward the yacht, "Come, let's board. We will be at sea for three days."

You halt, "But Javi, I didn't pack anything!"

"Sophia has taken care of that for you. Do not worry."

--

In addition to the Captain and First Officer, the yacht is fully staffed with a chef and stewards available to cater to your every need. Javi excitedly shows you around the space to get acquainted with the amenities. The crew's quarters are tucked away from the main area, offering you and Javi privacy. There is a living area with ample seating and a wet bar, multiple bedrooms, and bathrooms. He shows you the primary bedroom, which includes a walk-in closet. You peek inside to see the clothes Sophia packed for you are hung and perfectly ironed.

You exit the closet to meet Javi standing near the edge of the bed, "This is so beautiful, Javi."

"I'm so happy you love it, mi amor." He softly kisses your lips. "The chef has prepared a late lunch for us." His hand grasps around yours, "Let's go eat!"

You follow him back into the main cabin. A mahogany dining table is appointed with crisp linens, delicate china, and wine glasses with a beautiful floral arrangement in the middle. Javi pulls a chair from the table and motions for you to sit. He quickly rounds the table to sit across from you.

The chef enters with his attendants, who trail behind him with their hands full of serving dishes. They carefully place the dishes while the chef introduces the meal, which includes paella with prawns, ceviche, oysters, small plates of olives, and assorted local cheeses. The staff then leaves you and Javi to enjoy your meal in peace.

Javi pours the wine, and you raise them for a toast. "Mi amor, you have made me the happiest man. I hope to celebrate a thousand more birthdays with you. I love you."

You clink your glasses together and take a first sip of a rich, full-bodied red. Your eyes are misty as you gaze adoringly at Javi. "You make me so happy, too. I love you."

--

With the impending sunset, you and Javi want to take advantage of the last bit of daylight together. You return to the room and change into your swimsuits. Sophia has packed your favorite bikini, one that accentuates your beautiful curves. It happens to be Javi's favorite, too. A black halter top that ties around your neck and pushes your tits together to create delectable cleavage and black and white striped bottoms that tie at the hips.

As you change, you catch Javi stealing glances at you in the mirror. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you give him a little show. Slowly peeling off your dress, one strap at a time, letting it fall to the floor. You shimmy your panties down your legs, exposing your bare ass and cunt to him as you bend over, feeling Javi's eyes bore into you.

When you straighten, you lock eyes with him over your shoulder and reach around to unclasp your bra. Your forearm holds the cups in place, not wanting to reveal yourself too soon. Javi's eyes darken with lust; he bites his bottom lip, watching with rapt attention. With a wink, you drop your arm, and your bra falls to the floor, revealing your tits to him.

"You are so gorgeous, mi amor." Javi breathes out.

Heat roils in your chest, trailing up your neck, feeling loved and adored by your man. "Thank you, handsome."

You change into your bikini while Javi puts on his swimsuit. He's wearing a pair of striped swim briefs, which perfectly highlight the outline of his beautiful cock. His tanned, broad shoulders are covered with a yellow button-up.

He leads you to the boat's bow, where an expansive chaise lounge is located. Javi removes his shirt before he sits; his golden skin glistens in the sunshine. His body is pressed against the back of the lounger, and his legs are spread out in front of him. He pats the area between his legs, inviting you to sit. His legs spread wider as you position yourself in front of him.

Once situated, he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you lovingly. His hands begin to stroke the tops of your thighs while you admire the Mallorcan landscape of rocky cliffs and the sun's rays reflecting off the crystal blue water.

"Javi, it is just so beautiful out here."

He leans forward to kiss your temple, "Not nearly as beautiful as you."

His lips linger, moving lower to your cheek and down to your jawline, where he softly nibbles as you coo in response to the feel of his soft lips on the delicate skin. His lips journey to the sensitive skin of your neck, where he sucks at your pulse point. Your body writhes at his ministration, and a soft whimper falls from your lips. He knows exactly where and how to touch you; he's spent the last year exploring every inch of your body, discovering how it responds to his touch.

"Oh, I know how you like it when I kiss you here." Another kiss lands below your earlobe, "and here." The tip of his tongue slowly trails along the top of your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. He chuckles, "And there."

Your body floods with warmth as your desire for him crescendos. Arousal pools into your bikini bottoms, "Javi, please."

"Please what, mi amor?"

"I need you to touch me, please."

Javi clicks his tongue, "As you wish."

His palm skates from your thigh to your soft stomach. His fingers trace over your silken skin until he reaches your hip, and he pulls at the end of your bikini's tie, slowly releasing its knot. You ache with anticipation as he slowly trails back across your stomach to release the tie on the other side. The front of your suit slides down, exposing your cunt to the salt air. An exasperated sigh escapes your lips, desperate for him to touch you where you need it most.

"You were such a tease changing into your swimsuit earlier. So naughty." he teases, "And now we're so impatient. Huh, baby?"

You nod your head. "Please," you whine.

Javi coos in your ear, "I got you." His lips tug at your earlobe.

You watch as his ring-adorned finger slowly navigates toward your lips. Grazing the tip of it along your outer folds until he moves toward your center to capture your arousal along your wet seam. "Oh, she's desperate, isn't she?"

Your brain is dizzy with his relentless teasing. Words fail you; your only response is to buck your hips into his fingers, resolute in your search for relief. You moan as one brushes against your sensitive clit. Finally.

Javi has dragged this out for the both of you too long, having worked himself up. His cock, rock hard, ruts up against the small of your back, seeking friction. His finger sinks into your wet folds, pulsing in and out of your cunt while he thumbs at your clit. You writhe in his arms, head falling back on his shoulder. He whispers into your ear, "So wet, baby. My fingers are just slipping right in. You're always so wet for me."

His other palm ascends your body, reaching the cups of your suit. He yanks the cups down, freeing your tits. Your hardened nipples piercing the air. He cups your tit in his soft hand, pulling the nipple between his fingers. Gently tweaking at it, which triggers your hips to lurch forward into his palm, his fingers deepening their reach inside your pussy until they hit that sweet spongy spot.

The sensations are intense, stimulating all of your senses at once: his gentle, coaxing touch, the cool breeze mixed with the mist of saltwater against your skin, and the thrill of this semi-public display of indecency, knowing that at any point, the boat staff could see this debauchery. Thankfully, they have all signed NDAs. "You're so close. I can feel you squeezing my fingers." he encourages, "Let go for me."

And you do. Your fingers dig into his forearm for purchase as you wail out his name. The sound muffled by waves crashing against the boat as it advances through the water. He works you through your orgasm, the stroke of his fingers slowing as you come down from your climax. As your breathing evens out, you collapse into him, your head resting on his shoulder.

He removes his fingers from you and brings them to his lips. He savors your sweet musk, sucking off your juices from his digits, "mmm, I will never get tired of how you taste."

You tilt your head to meet his lips and moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You feel Javi's hard cock poking into your lower back, too distracted to notice it before. Twisting your arm behind you, you stroke your palm over the front of his suit, feeling the ridges of his length, and he lets out a strangled moan.

Desperate for your touch, he lowers the front of his suit to free his cock. Stroking it, he taps the tip of it against your back, and you feel a bead of precum against your skin. You move your hand over his and stroke in tandem. He collects the leaked precum from his tip to lubricate his strokes. He hisses when you tighten your grip over his. "Mi amor, I will come if you keep doing that."

"We can't have that, can we?"

You lift yourself to hover over his cock. He teases the tip through your slick folds, brushing your clit. You feel a burn in your quads as you lower yourself onto him until he's fully sheathed inside you. "You're just desperate for this cock, huh?"

You answer him by lifting yourself back up until only the tip breaches your entrance, and without warning, spear yourself onto him and begin to ride him in pursuit of another orgasm. Your tits bounce with your movement, and he reaches around to cup them in his hands, kneading them softly. One of his hands lowers to below your waist to your clit. A mixture of circles and taps on your sensitive bud edge you closer to your second release. Your pace quickens, and a wave of ecstasy rolls through you as your cunt pulsates around him.

Before you can come down from your high, he pushes you forward onto all fours in one swift motion. His cock never leaves your tight hole as he kneels behind you. He withdraws until only his tip remains in your warm, wet embrace before he slams back into you. "Fuck!" he grunts, "She's so tight."

Javi begins a steady pace, his hips slapping into your ass. His hands hold onto your hips with a bruising grip, pulling you into him to sync with his thrusts. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each stroke.

"Hnnngh." you moan, "Baby, you're so deep. Fill me up!"

His pace quickens, and his balls tighten as his release draws near. His pelvis pounds into you until, finally, his seed paints your walls. He wraps his arm tight around your waist and collapses into you, his forehead meeting your bare shoulder. He scatters light kisses along your back while his breath returns to normal.

Once he's come to, he draws you back into his lap. His cum dribbles out over his softening cock as he pulls out from you. He reaches over to grab a towel and cleans you both.

You relax into Javi, sated and content, as you watch the sun begin its descent behind the cliffs, painting the sky in orange and pink hues. You could care less that you're still in your fucked out state, half-naked and blissed out. All that matters is that you are in your love's strong arms.

Javi peppers soft kisses along your cheek, "Happy Birthday, mi amor."

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻

[someone-stole-all-my-fruit]

It was Always Him

Hello! This is my gift for @doomedhowell for the @phandomgiftexchange!

I really hope you like it <3 ! I haven't written fic in a long time, but I thought this was the perfect opportunity to get back into it, and after this I definitely plan on writing more. Probably longer-form stuff. I'm going to be honest posting this makes me so nervous, but I really did have so much fun participating in this!

-

Dan and Phil had just moved into their forever home. Their dream home. Everything was different now, but really, it was all the same. As they attended a neighborhood party and snuck away, they reminisced about their lives together, and if there was one thing Phil knew: It was always Dan.

Fluff with a bit of comedy. Just meant to be cute :)

Word Count: 2,406

-

As Phil grabbed the hamper and began preparing the laundry, a tiny smile crept onto his face. His eyes, less youthful than they had once been, crinkled as he grinned, a faint sigh leaving his lips. Suddenly, everything was different. Everything was different and yet everything was the same as it always was. To many, the word “always” would be an exaggeration, but not to Phil. Always began 12 years ago. Their always. Dan and Phil have lived together for pretty much the entire time they had known one another. There was a short period of time between when they met and when they got their first apartment that they lived apart, but in the grand scheme of things, what is a year and a half compared to a lifetime? Thank God for laundry, Phil thought. If Dan hadn’t come over nearly every day to do laundry when he was in Uni they may never have decided it would be easiest to move in together. To this day doing laundry makes Phil happy. That damn laundry.

Everything was different now. This wasn’t an apartment anymore, this was their house, their “phouse”, as the internet called it. The fact that the internet created a special name for their home blew Phil’s mind. Despite how strange and chaotic the internet can be, Phil owed so much to it. After all, without the internet, they never would have met. Phil whistled the tune under his breath. That damn song would be the death of him. Why do so many people care about what Dan and I do, anyway? Phil though. He isn’t famous; he isn’t an actor or a pop star. Neither is Dan, but at least Dan has talent.

Like a river on a stormy day, as it often happened, memories of Dan and Phil’s early years flooded Phil’s mind. Their first conversation over text all those years ago and how Dan tried to play it cool even though Phil knew all along Dan was a huge fan of his. The first time they met in person and how posh and confident Dan seemed. It intimidated Phil, even though he was older. Their first kiss and what it meant to Phil knowing Dan was not yet fully comfortable with his sexuality but still trusted Phil enough to be vulnerable with him. The first time they told each other they loved one another; something they have said thousands of times since the first. Things are different now.

Better. 

“Phil, we’re going to be late,” a voice shouted from the next room over. His voice. “Can’t you start the wash later?” 

“I know, I know,” Phil said. “I just wanted to start it so when we got back it would be ready to dry. Plus, I like doing the laundry. It makes me happy.”

“Laundry makes you happy?” Dan stepped through the door and shot Phil one of his signature sarcastic looks. “Look, Phil, that’s a little strange even for you.”

“Strange as it may be, it makes me think of you. Of us. Of our youth,” Phil got out his puppy dog eyes that seemed to make Dan melt every time. It worked.

“God, I know we’re old but saying “our youth” makes it sound like we’re ancient,” said Dan, cringing at the thought. “You, however, as old as we may be, are still just as adorable as you were the day that I met you. And you’ll continue to be adorable until the day you inevitably die. Which better be after me by the way,” Dan winked, chucking slightly. “Now, slow poke, finish up with the wash so we can get going. We better not be late. Otherwise they might not invite us back.”

Dan was right of course. Phil quickly threw the was in and scurried to the door. He grabbed Dan’s hand and held it tightly as they began to make their way over to the neighbors.

“Shit, the desert!” Shouted Dan. He let go of Phil’s hand and ran back inside. In a moment he was back at Phil’s side, cookie tray in hand. “Got them!”

Phil grabbed Dan’s hand once more and planted a cheeky kiss on his lips. “You are adorable.”

Failing at holding back a smile, Dan stuck his tongue out at Phil and said “I don’t want to be adorable. I want to be dark and mysterious.”

“You’re mysteriously adorable?” Phil raised an eyebrow as he said this.

Dan cackled. “You, Philip Michael Lester, are just a mystery.”

Mansion wasn’t a big enough word for the type of house they were standing in. Phil thought that he and Dan were proud of their new home but it was nothing in comparison to this absolute art piece of a house. It had pillars for God’s sake. Pillars! Vibrant green foliage decorated the foyer. The main party was in the living room, which had couches that looked like they belonged in a house from the regency era adorned with tasteful pillows that looked expensive and impossible to wash. A fireplace was lit; the true centerpiece of the room. A small table with snacks and drinks was set up next to the bar, which, by the way, was fully staffed. Phil felt out of place and wondered if Dan felt the same. Nevertheless, he took their cookies and set them on the table with the rest of the finger foods.

“What the fuck?” Dan had a horrified look on his face. “Phil what the fuck kind of neighbors do we have? We don’t belong in a place like this! For fucks sake I’m wearing a t-shirt!”

Luckily for Dan, most of the other guests were wearing T-shirts as well. Despite the fancy home, their neighbors were nice. Just nice. Exactly the type of people you would expect to live in a house with pillars. Phil could tell they had grown up rich. They weren’t like Dan and Phil who made their money themselves. It didn’t make much of a difference in Phil’s mind, it was just obvious to him. The whole neighborhood was invited to this party, so at least Dan and Phil were able to fade into the background and keep mostly to themselves. Making pleasantries was one thing, but making friends was another, harder thing. Real friends, that is.

At first, he and Dan were worried about what their neighbors would think about the two of them. Should they be truthful? Should they tell them they are a couple? Or should they not say anything at all? In the end, they decided to keep things hush-hush, at least for now. The truth would obviously come out eventually, but Phil valued his privacy and he knew Dan did as well.

One of their neighbors seemed alright. Dan, Phil, and the neighbor stood by the snack table and chatted for a while. He was a big drinker and insisted that they try his specialty cocktail. Dan and Phil obliged, interested in the concoction and glad to have connected with somebody. The cocktail was strong. Phil couldn’t tell you what was in it for the life of him. It tasted decent enough. After chatting with him for a few minutes, the neighbor disappeared. Phil couldn’t tell you his name if he tried. Was it Gary? Terry? Something along those lines. Hopefully Dan remembered.

After 3 hours of small talk and chatting with Gerald, social battery drainage did not even begin to cover what Phil was experiencing. It was late. He had had a couple more drinks after the ones Toby had already given him and he was starting to feel them. Drinking wasn’t something Phil did often, so whenever he did they hit him hard and fast. It wasn’t a feelling he minded, but he needed a bit of air. He walked out of the living room and into the foyer. To his right was the kitchen, and he could see a door leading outside through there. He eagerly walked that way and pushed open the door.

His jaw dropped. Who are these people? He lived in the wrong neighborhood.succulent flowers cascaded over arches in the neighbor’s garden. Pinks, purples, yellows, and every color in-between flooded Phil’s eyesight. The yard in front of him was absolutely beautiful. Like stars, fairy lights draped between pillars and tangled around lamp posts tastefully scattered about. The far side of the garden had some guy playing the violin next to a small outdoor bar. Also fully staffed. Phil wasn’t sure what song the violinist was playing, but it was nice, muffled and fading into the background due to the dense foliage around him. Phil’s lungs filled with air. Deep breaths felt nice. Perhaps all the greenery around him enhanced the oxygen in the air? Phil wondered.

The lights, flowers, and pillars were nice but the centerpiece of the garden really stole the show. There was a small hedge maze. Rich people things, Phil thought. In the center of the maze peeking over the tops of the bushes was what appeared to be a water fountain. Phil was drawn to it. Being the curious man that he is, Into the maze he went. Tiny lanterns lit the way. They were spread out evenly along the top edge of the maze. Within a minute of walking, Phil made it to the center. After completing it, Phil decided it was less of a maze and more of an intricate path.

The sound of the water trickling into the fountain was calming. It was loud enough to completely drown out the already muffled violinist. Phil sniffed a few times, intrigued. There must have been essential oils infused in the water. Lavender? Rose? Phil wasn’t sure, but it was nice. He smiled, letting himself surrender to the calmness. Until, that is, he was rudely broken out of his peaceful trance.

“Aghhh!” Phil screamed, hand flying to his chest. Instinctively he ducked down, nearly falling on his face. The hand that had covered his eyes was now under his chest, holding him up and preventing him from hitting the floor. Phil began to laugh, realizing what was happening. “Daniel!”

Dan’s cackle of a laugh danced through the air like Phil’s favorite song. “Got you, Phil.”

“Got me? I think I’m the one who’s got you!” Before Dan knew what was happening Phil spun around quickly and slammed Dan into the grass, straddling him. Both hands held Dan’s wrists above his head and pinned him to the ground. A sheepish look crossed Dan’s face and Phil couldn’t help but mirror his grin. “Yeah, I’ve definitely got you. In fact, I reckon I’ve had you for about 12 years now. All to myself.”

With the gentlest of motions, Phil bent down and brushed his lips against Dan’s, still holding him hostage on the floor. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Phil,” Dan said, prying Phil off of him. Now sat next to each other on the floor, Dan placed his head on Phil’s shoulder. The sounds of the fountain drowned out every sound except for the sound of each other’s breathing. They sat there, enjoying the silence. The peace that only they were able to bring one another. “...Phil?” Dan cocked his head slightly, looking up at Phil. To the surprise and slight horror of Phil, there were tears in Dan’s eyes. How many of Julian’s cocktails did he have?

“Did you ever think we would get this far? When we first met, did you ever really think that this was going to go anywhere?”

Phil smiled, wiping away the few tiny tears that had begun to roll down Dan’s cheeks. “None of that crying, you sap,” Phil said, kissing the top of Dan’s head. “And to answer your question, oh God, I hoped it would. I hoped we would. You have no idea how cute you were back then, do you?” Phil asked. “You’re still cute, of course. Wouldn’t want to cause any confusion there.”

“Oh trust me, I definitely know I’m cute,” said Dan, smiling. His tears had already mostly dried up. He was definitely slightly intoxicated. “But do say more.”

“All that pining,” said Phil. “You were such a FLIRT back then. You still are, but back then you were on another level. Obviously I had to reach out to the cutest emo boy commenting on my videos. I never thought anything would come of it until I met you for the first time. We hit it off right away. I didn’t know if it was going to be a friendship, a romance, a fling, or something else. But from that first day I met you, I knew you were something special to me, Dan. It was always you.”

Phil took two fingers and gently tilted Dan’s face upwards. He kissed him, firmly enough to surprise Dan a bit. Dan leaned into it matching Phil’s energy. They stayed that way, enjoying each other, for a few minutes. These moments of tender love were what made everything worth it at the end of the day, at least for Phil. All of the harassment from certain bad people on the internet, all of the hiding, all of the bad things they have had to go through over the years was all worth it just to be able to kiss Dan and call him his own. The love that Phil felt for Dan could not be matched. Dan was his best friend, his lover, and his soulmate. And Phil would sneak away from any party if it meant getting moments like this with him. 

Phil broke their kiss and pulled Dan into a deep hug, burying his face into Dan’s hair. “I love you so fucking much Daniel Howell. You’re never allowed to leave me.”

Phil felt Dan smile into his shoulder. “Philip Michael Lester, you might be the only person in the world capable of convincing me that fate is real.”

You might not believe in fate but I know the truth. It was always you.”

“And it always will be me,” said Dan, closing his eyes, content in Phil’s arms.

“Companions through life?” asked Phil, breaking the hug to face Dan and look into his eyes. This was serious business. He extended out his pinky, never breaking eye contact.

“Actual soulmates,” said Dan, grabbing Phil’s pinky with his and shaking. The sacred vow of the pinky promise.

Phil smiled.

It was always him.

[poisonedbeyondrepair]

Decided to try my hand at a human AU, but I have no self control so it’s kinda like Infamous: Second Son meets Lackadaisy 😅 got 4 chapters written so I will be updating weekly for a month, then who knows after that, I sure don’t know lol. Let me know what you think!

[not-so-terrible]

so Itachi and Kisame's names can kinda match

Like most characters outside Kiri, Itachi's name is written with katakana rather than kanji for weasel 鼬. But in Japanese, tiger sharks are called weasel sharks - itachizame (鼬鮫), with the first kanji from the meaning of Itachi's name and the second from Kisame's. While they're from a different family, another kind of tiger shark comes up in their meeting, as the description of shark pups devouring each other in the womb matches the otherwise docile sand tiger sharks.

And then there's Kisame's given name. While the kanji used are for demon shark, using different kanji, 樹雨 'kisame' is a noun. It's used for when fog settles around tree leaves and falls like rain. So a Mist Ninja finding their place alongside Leaf Ninja through the Rain Village/Akatsuki is literally summed up in his name

While being the only team to share ring placement and nail polish colour, the kanji on them, Vermilion and South, also match. Many of the Akatsuki rings are connected to heavenly beings in some way, but Itachi's, Konan's, and Deidara's are part of a set of Four Auspicious beasts - The Vermilion Bird, the White Tiger, and the Azure Dragon. They're all linked to different elements/weather/etc, tying the two of them together, as the Vermilion Bird is the deity of the south. Each of the symbols also has different phases of the moon connected to them, called mansions; one of them for the Vermilion Bird is 鬼, the first kanji in Kisame's name. And the main occurrence of the south kanji in the series is the Uchiha's Naka Shrine and Naka River; 'The Shrine/River of Southern Joy'. Itachi's Mangekyo Sharingan activates at the river, the tablet describing Infinite Tsukuyomi is in the shrine, and they meet by a seaside shrine.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Can't take off my mind this very specific flavor of sskk dynamics from a timeline that goes like: the doa arc never happened. Skip forward to bunch of years past the canon events, and you have sskk who can't really call each other enemies since it's now evident to everyone they enjoy seeing each other, but aren't friends either since they do very much still work for enemy organizations. And they just keep stumbling across each other on their respective missions from opposite fronts, trying to capture the same target for their own team, and they keep fighting and competing with each other in a way that is almost playful (but never going easy on each other because then where's the fun!), making them both almost look forward to meet and clash with the other on missions and to fight for the same target. And the mission accomplishment rate has now decreased to a 50% for both of them but neither of them can bring themselves to really care because for the first time they're having the carefree, mindless fun they never experienced in their lives and they have a person they enjoy to spend time with to the point they even got past denying it. And Atsushi telling Akutagawa “even if I let you go now, I'll still have to hunt you down” and Akutagwa replying “hunt me then” and theatrically disappearing out of a window or something leaving Atsushi laughing and just. them being together although nobody is going to say it out loud

[novella-november]

Is this fanfic friendly? I feel like an outlier.

I guess this is my sign it's time to throw together a FAQ post to link to lol.

Yes, every event for this blog is fanfic friendly :D

Though as I mentioned on my Ominous October post, for events that include multiple short stories, I encourage everyone to flex their creativity and take one of their planned short story fanfics, and at least *attempt* to turn one of them into something entirely original; rebuilding a character and story from the ground up to stand on its own two legs is no easy feat, and that is what makes it so fun!

It really gets your creative gears turning, to make an "au of an existing material" to be something entirely original, and you can be pleasantly surprised about the things you come up with!

As a few people say, its not just a matter of "filing the serial numbers off" -- you have to add in just as much *or more* as what you take out when you are turning a fanfiction into something that is original and completely divorced from its original source material / inspiration, and that is a hard, but very rewarding challenge!

Obviously, this is not a requirement (there's no hard requirements for any of the challenges, other than no cheating, including no using AI),

but if you would like an extra challenge for the short story events and you're planning on doing entirely fan-fiction, I highly recommend trying it out at least once, and seeing where it leads you--

you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by what you find down that rabbit hole!