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ninapi · 1 year

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Premise: Ancient Japan gets hit by a rare disease coming from the birds. Succumbing to it and fearing for the safety of your bird companion, as a last resort you reach a mythical forest full of ancient shapeshifting creatures. Will you be able to find a cure? Will you be safe in the middle of a forest full of unknown forces? Love is right around the corner and meeting different clans will help you find it.

Word Count: 2976

Note: Welcome to my new series! This is an AU, meaning they aren’t volleyball players, it has a fantasy set up in a very rural old Japan. This one will have a bit of a different format than the previous ones you will see what I mean.

Chapter 0: Contagious

Life was hard. The land was dry, infertile. Livestock was owned by the rich, meaning only they had something left to eat while the common people were piling up dead bodies on the sidewalks.

A rare disease was coming from the north and death was the only known outcome of getting it.

Majority of your village succumbed to the first wave, causing both of your parents to die from it.

By then, it still was an unknown fact that the chickens you were all eating were the cause of the hundreds of deaths.

Only the rich were safe as birds were the meat of the poor.

All chickens were sacrificed as an offering to the gods, in hopes of getting back the life they once had.

It was an awful scene, one that would forever hunt everyone’s nightmares.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You were walking near a stream you visited often, looking for some herbs, when you saw a hurt chick on the ground. Seemed like it had fallen from a nest nearby.

You knew birds were forbidden in your village. Even pigeons were killed by locals, throwing stones at them heartlessly in fear. But you couldn’t leave the creature there to die. So you picked him up carefully, wrapping it with a cloth and placed it in your basket, hidden by the herbs you placed on top.

The chick survived, quickly recovering with your care. Your land wasn’t vast, but it had a secluded area on the back where you used to have crops when the land was still blessed. In there, you taught your bird friend how to look for worms and it would sleep in a makeshift nest you made out of old rags beside your own bed, the casual encounter blossomed into an everlasting friendship.

Animals grow fast. Soon you noticed your friend was a crow, his black feathers beautifully coming to shine not long after his arrival.

Having a loud big bird hidden in a small cottage wasn’t ideal, you worried for his safety daily, specially when new cases of the dreaded disease kept popping up here and there. There were no birds allowed anywhere close, how was it possible? Why was it back? There were rumors that said polluted water was the cause, birds from other villages were still alive, pure streams and rivers falling victims of the treacherous creatures.

Your friend has been with you for a bit over a year now and it’s a full-grown adult already. You always thought crows were vile creatures, dangerous. But you were admittedly wrong. Your friend was nothing but sweet, it would always make sure you were warm during the harsh winter nights, pulling your blanket over you with its beak when you tossed around asleep and would chose to sleep over your stomach for added warmth; picking him up that day was the best idea you’ve ever had.

Sadly, every day that went by was much more of a struggle than the last one. You knew what was going on. Breathing was a taxing task these days. Fever constantly hunting your nights. The cold weather was difficult to battle when you had no wood left to feed the fire, your blanket was just not enough anymore. Food was also scarce in your pantry.

It worried you that your bird friend would end up dying with you if he didn’t leave first. He needed to learn how to be a bird, he needed to be free.

You’ve heard the legend of the forest you must never go in. Full of foul monsters and creatures not of this world. Strong men never returned after their reckoning, it was known by everyone. A place humans should never go into. But a place where humans weren’t allowed was a place where birds would be safe.

So, you decided to take your friend with you at night, you knew you didn’t have much time left and didn’t want the villagers to see you flee in broad daylight.

Unfortunately, an old man that lived four houses down the road heard its wings flap as a gust of wind hit you on the way, making him come out of his house in rage. His wife had passed that morning out of the same disease hunting the village, birds were at fault, they should all be dead. He grabbed a spear and threw it at you, he wanted to kill the bird, not hurt you, but the spear chopped half of one of its wings off and left a fairly deep wound on your side. You were both bleeding heavily, but you did your best to get out of view, running towards the forest.

Your surroundings were turning darker every second, dense foliage hitting your face from every angle, but you had to hurry, you had to save your friend with the last strength left within your body.

A rock made you trip and fall, rolling down a steep in the forest. You protected your friend with all your might making sure it wouldn’t suffer further damage and when you finally stopped rolling, you could see the night sky above you, beautiful stars twinkling down at you, the air was fresh, the trees were singing. And suddenly the weight on top of you intensified. You were sure your bird friend wasn’t this heavy, but you couldn’t look down, not in your current state.

“You're such an idiot! Why did you do this? Look at you, you’re bleeding so much.” you could hear the voice close, a voice you’ve never heard before but somehow it filled you with nostalgia.

The legend was very true. The forest held all sorts of creatures, all sorts of clans. There, they could be their true selves without caring about human misconceptions.

One of those clans was particularly known there as they couldn’t leave the forest, their powers only worked there, and they were unable of taking care of themselves in the outside world, they were victims of a powerful unbreakable curse. The Tengu clan.

“(Y/N) please don’t fall asleep, look at me. I’ll get you some help, c’mon hold on tight.” A naked man you’ve never seen in your life was holding you in his arms, his eyes were soft, full of worry, a deep wound oozing blood on his back.

“My friend, is that you? Are we both dead? Is that why you look human to me right now? I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better life…” he ran through the forest, climbing a tree swiftly with inhuman speed, “Shhh, we aren’t dead. We are home now, don’t worry, I can protect you here.” your eyes drifted regardless of his previous warnings, alarming him even more.

“Is there someone that can help us? Anyone know the Sugawaras? My parents, they should live around this area.” the man was pleading through the empty city in the sky, multiple treetops connected with rope bridges, tree houses in each of them, an entire city right there, and they were all ignoring him.

Someone around his age popped his head out of a window, “I know the Sugawaras, but you are a bit lost, they live quite far. Do you want to come inside? Seems like you could use some clothing and the lady with you could also use a place to rest.” he smiled at the kind man, quickly taking you inside.

His name was Daichi from the Sawamura family, a name he hadn’t heard before but surely a very warmhearted one.

He let you down gently on the floor, panic written all over his face, “She, she has the bird sickness. If we don’t do something she’ll die.” he was holding one of your hands, now sporting some comfortable clothing for the first time in his life. “What do you mean the bird sickness? We are birds-“ seems they didn’t know about the disease, not yet at least.

“Humans, they die from it. It wasn’t my fault, I swear.” his face was now buried on your side the same way he used to do it on his bird form. “There’s no such sickness here, my friend. You can be at ease, as long as she doesn’t leave the forest, she should be ok.” hearing those words brought so much relief that he fell asleep right there, sharing his warmth with you, all he could do was nod, hoping the man was right.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You woke up bright and early, a gray muff of hair coming out of your blanket, startling you. Suga woke up, looking at you in disbelief, you looked so much better, color was back in your face, the scraps from the night before barely noticeable. “(Y/N) it’s me! I’m your bird. I know it might be hard to believe, but you brought me to the forest, only here you can see my true form, we are safe now.” you cut his rambling by giving him a long warm hug full of love. You knew it was true even if it sounded crazy, you could feel it, he was your friend, your only family left. “Do you have a name? I didn’t want to give you one because I didn’t want people hearing me call out to you, they would have found you sooner.” you refused to let him go, burying your face on his soft locks, “Sugawara Koushi”, he whispered in between deep breaths. There were so many nights he wished to hold you like this, to do something more for you, this all felt like a dream.

A loud fake coughing sound tore you away from the other, “Sorry to interrupt you guys, but I talked with some of my pals from other families and I think it would be better if you came with me.” Daichi was standing by the door awkwardly, waiting for you to get your bearings once more.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

He took you both to what looked like a common area in the city, almost like a hall. It had benches made out of plants and tree stomps as stools. A few other winged men already waiting for you inside.

“So, this is the human girl?? She’s cute! Hi!! I’m Hinata Shoyo, the son of the village ruler!” he was quickly on your face, slightly smaller in size but his beautiful wings were spreading proudly.

“Back off, idiot. Let her breathe.” a much taller and annoyed looking man spoke beside you. He was beautiful, his hair matched to perfection the almost iridescent tone of black his wings had, his face was literally glowing at the stark contrast with his fair skin. A sight to behold.

“Don’t let them startle you, they won’t hurt you, they are my friends. I talked to them about this bird sickness of yours and Asahi seems to know more about it, that’s why I called you.” you both nodded, sitting together on a small bench.

“Hello there,” the man you now recognize as Asahi gave you a small nervous smile and a little wave, crouching down to eye level. He looked older than the other two, his wings lacked in the shiny aspect, one of them was even scuffed and missing a tip. His brown curly hair set him apart from the others, he looked somewhat calmer and wiser than the rest. “I’m Azumane Asahi, I lived outside of the forest for a while, so I know what the sickness is you have. As far as I know, there’s no cure for it, but while you are inside the forest it won’t kill you as fast. I do think you won’t feel as great though, but it shouldn’t be fatal. Maybe we can get some help from other clans that know more about it, they might know of a cure or a way to at least make you feel better.” you offered him a bright smile, thanking him for bringing all of this up for your sake. He seemed relieved with your response, he wasn’t the best at handling women so he was grateful for your kindness.

“My best friend is from the Bakeneko clan, you know those two tailed cats you humans think aren’t real?” you nodded in disbelief, thinking of that one painting in your house that always had you entranced with curiosity since you were little. “They are the only clan that can go on their true form outside the forest, so it’s possible they know more about it. They have their own colonies in your world, I will send him one of my birds today.” you were honestly moved by all the support you were getting from them all; they didn’t know you and they were already so friendly.

“I think she should go up north. The owls, they know everything.” Kageyama wanted to help, didn’t mean to sound like he didn’t want you there, but the look of hurt in your eyes was making him stutter in desperate need of help.

Daichi caught up fast, “What he means is, you have another alternative. You can stay here with us in this side of the forest, the Tengus will protect you, you have my word. If the bakenekos know something, you could go with them too, they’re used to humans and would probably give you a life closer to what you’ve already experienced. Or you could travel north and visit the owl clan, they have sages that can even do magic, you might be able to leave this place one day if they find a cure.” you weigh all your options, a headache knocking at your door at the influx of information.

“As for you, Sugawara Koushi. Your parents live on the other side of the village, I notified them, seems like they’ve been looking for you for a while and thought you were dead.” Suga grabbed your hand, trying to bring some sort of comfort in this hard situation, “Thank you, I…I fell off a tree the day I was born, (Y/N) here saved my life. She raised me, protected me, gave me the only loving home I’ve known. I’m happy to know I have a family here that wishes to see me, but I will go with her if she chooses to visit the owls. Unfortunately, I can’t leave the forest, I would also die if I do so, the cut on my back is too deep, I can’t fly ever again.” your heart ached badly, you were supposed to protect him, not get him fall to such lethal injury.

“You don’t have to think about it yet, (Y/N). Let’s go visit my parents. They might give us a room.”

Hinata got up awkwardly, interrupting him, “I prepared a room for each of you at my place, since it’s the biggest around. I thought it would be easier on her, specially since she needs to decide what she wants to do. If she wants to stay and you two are, well…you know…” he was blushing thinking of who knows what obscenities in that dirty head of his “I could talk to the people in charge and get you your own cottage. But I think it would be better to let her rest for a bit first.”

Yamaguchi, a cute freckled and shy looking Tengu hiding on the back cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention, “Aren’t you guys forgetting about the foxes? They’re closer to the gods, immortal beings, shouldn’t they be able to cure her somehow?”

Daichi’s face turned feral, spooking the young Tengu, “We don’t talk about the foxes, Yamaguchi. That would be the very last option, one I wouldn’t want to explore.” drowning the mood, Hinata dragged you both to his place, where you had your very own cozy hammock with a nice view of the sky.

You were both grateful, still in pain and tired having a warm bed without compromising and having awkward meetings sounded lovely.

You had a lot to think about.

If you stayed with the Tengus, you could be with your friend possibly forever, he was your only family, the only one you could trust. But never regain health again and leaving the forest would never be an option.

If you went with the cats they might know of a cure, but your friend can’t go with you, and you would immediately start to decay as you step outside.

The owls seemed safe enough, you could both go together and would still be within the forest, you could even be cured one day. But do you really want to leave the forest even? Is it actually worth the trip?

And what about the mysterious foxes? Why do they not talk about them? It was certainly intriguing.

That night you dream of foxes and gods, owls and Tengus, naughty and cute cats alike.

A difficult choice indeed.

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Note: So this story will work a little different than the ones before it. Instead of having a Good/Happy/True ending, you will follow different paths that will take you to completely different setups, and instead of multiple chapters, each clan will have a longer story in one shot format. The second half of it will have different routes endings though~

Nina’s side note: I’m enjoying a little too much editing pics for this fics, I think it’s getting out of control lol.

Masterlist

#haikyuu!!#fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu au #slow burn #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x f!reader #new series #haikyu x reader #haikyu fanfiction #haikyu alternate universe #haikyuu fanfiction #fantasy romance #haikyuu x female reader #sugawara koushi #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto kotaro

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shadows-starlight · 5 days

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Shadows and Starlight

Book 83: Apples A Bunch

The crisp autumn air whipped through the forest of Ebonvale and Malakar decided that it would be wonderful to take everyone out for one of his favorite autumn activities: apple picking.

He had always loved apple picking. Even when he was a little boy, he would always make him and his siblings have contests to see who could pick the most apples and of course, he would often come out as the winner.

Now that he was older and had adopted Aurora as his own daughter, he wanted to share this experience with her and his own little, and slightly unusual, family.

So, after a hearty breakfast, the family gathered baskets, satchels, and buckets and headed down the forest path toward the apple orchard. Aurora laid comfortably inside her pale yellow baby sling strapped onto Malakar's chest, Grimble, Flord, and Tibber trailed behind Malakar clumsily carrying wicker baskets and wooden buckets, Corvus flew above them with Pippin sitting inside a saddle on Corvus's back made from a small hat box and some twine, and Roisin ran in front of everyone trying to catch the autumn leaves in her mouth.

"Hey, boss," Grimble grunted as they passed through the final stretch of the towering redwoods and into the orchard. "These apples better be worth the trek this year. I didn't forget the time we found them all covered with worms."

"They’ll be perfect, Grimble. Trust me," Malakar replied, shifting Aurora gently in the sling. "Besides, it’s about the experience, not just the apples."

"Yeah, the experience of walkin' miles to pick somethin' I can buy in the village marketplace," Tibber muttered, earning an elbow nudge from Flord.

"Zip it, Tibber. Y'know the boss likes makin' things with his own bare hands."

"Exactly," Malakar said. "And this time 'round, Aurora gets to watch."

Corvus swooped down to perch on the branch of one of the apple trees, allowing Pippin to climb off his makeshift saddle.

"Alright everyone," Malakar called out, handing each of them a basket, satchel, or bucket, "You all know what to do. Let’s fill up those baskets. We'll meet back here just before sunset."

The gang spread out and fanned out among the trees, shaking the branches to let apples tumble down, some a little clumsier than others.

Malakar stayed close to Aurora, picking only the ripest fruit within reach. She watched him, eyes round with curiosity, and grabbed for an apple when he held one out to her.

"Look at this one, love," Malakar cooed softly, holding the shiny red apple close to her. "It’s just as sweet as you." Aurora gurgled and took the apple in her little hands, suckling on its side as if it were a pacifier.

Meanwhile, Pippin and Corvus darted across the apple trees, nibbling and pecking on the stems to let the apples fall into their bucket. Roisin gathered some apples with her mouth and dumped them into the bucket. When she found some on the ground, she ate them (apples are one of the safe foods for dogs to eat outside of dog food).

Tibber, Flord, and Grimble stood on each other's shoulders, trying to reach an apple on top of the highest branch of one of the trees while also balancing some baskets with their arms and feet.

"Almost… got it…" Flord grunted, reaching out to grab the apple.

They wibbled and wobbled as Flord tried to catch the apple. When Flord eventually got it, they wobbled and wobbled until they all collapsed with a loud thud.

They groaned and picked themselves up and brushed themselves off.

"Well, at least I got the apple," Flord grinned, holding up the apple.

When the baskets, satchels, and buckets were finally brimming with fresh, red apples, Malakar gave the signal for them to head back to the lair.

Upon arrival, Everyone got to work washing and drying the apples in the kitchen before preparing them for a special apple feast for their supper.

They had apple juice, apple cider, apple sauce, and of course, a freshly baked apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream.

It was very rare that they had dessert for supper, so, everyone took advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime experience.

As the fire crackled and the scent of apples and spices filled the lair, everyone enjoyed their slices of pie as they warmed themselves from the autumn chill.

This was what he lived for—the simple joys of family, of tradition, and the warmth that came from sharing it with those he loved.

#family #father and daughter #original characters #shadows and starlight #sliceoflife

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kimberly-spirits13 · 3 years

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Batfam Reacting to S/O Turning into a Robin HC (Request)

So this entire thing happens because you and Bruce were fighting Circe who just had to throw a spell at a civilian

You jump in front of the spell and catch it, taking the blow

This means that on site, you turn into a Robin

Wtf

Bruce is big mad now since now he thinks that you could be a Robin for the rest of your life and that’s just not cool

The moment that the fight is over, he calls in everyone from the league

Z, Constantine, Dr. Fate, Zatara, Wonder Woman, the whole lot

Once they find out what happens there’s a worry but eventually they find that it’s going to be alright and you’ll change back within the next 72 hours or so

72 HOURS

Bruce just simply cannot wait that long

he doesn’t know what to do with a bird like

ALFRED

They make sure to not try and feed you anything that’s too disgusting that you wouldn’t normally eat

No worms

That would be gross

Bruce does find it kind of funny that you turn into a Robin and not something else

So happy it wasn’t a bat

You’d get mixed and lost with the rest of them in the cave and that would be weird

Plus there’s a high chance that you’d just fall from the ceiling

Once you finally detransform from the entire debacle, Bruce is very happy to have you back

Gets special charms from Z and Constantine that repel bad magic back onto the user

Ensures that something like this doesn’t happen again

Dick Grayson:

This man does not know what to do

It’s a run in with Witch Boy that causes this to happen

Z!!!!!!

That’s the first person that he calls

Wally is really the one that takes you back to him since Dick wasn’t on this mission but you and Wally were leading it

You jumped in front of one of the newer recruits and that’s how that happened

Does this entire experience count as a souvenir?

Like maybe he just takes a feather that you drop or something and like SOUVENIR OF THAT ONE TIME THAT Y/N TURNED INTO A ROBIN

After the initial freak out mode, he just thinks that it’s kind of funny that it was a Robin

Z said that the spell was the wrong spell (thankfully) and you’d only turn into something that you loved for a little while

RObin yOU TuRNeD InTO A RoBIn

And that makes Dick a blushing mess

Once you finally do turn back, he teases you

Your most important question is did you eat anything gross

The answer was no but still

Trust issues

he does mention what the spell was and that lead to some blushing

Jason Todd:

This was the last thing that he had planned

The absolute last thing

On a mission that involved some weird magic stuff, you just happened to get turned into a Robin

What the literal hell is happening now

The first instinct is to see that it’s really you

Once you understand that you’re a Robin, you’re just like, oh, so this is happening now

And that’s just how it is, you fly up onto his shoulder and just run with it

Just sitting there like it’s no one’s business cause it isn’t

If anyone asks why there’s a Robin following, it’s just what’s happening now

He is concerned that you don’t turn into a human again

So he does make sure to ask and this time, it needs a counter spell

Z is the one to do this since Jason isn’t keen on trusting Constantine

Doesn’t take super long to do this since Z is already very powerful

We Stan a powerful helpful queen

So Jason goes to one of her shows and sneaks back stage still in the Red Hood uniform and explains what happens

Z just goes ahead, sets you on the floor, and does the transformation

It was really easy, not to painful, but it was weird to just be laying on the floor and not able to fly

You’ll only miss that part

Jason doesn’t miss any of it and still jokes about the fact that you were a Robin

“Babe at least you didn’t blow up in your time being Robin.”

JASON PETER TODD

Tim Drake:

So you turn into a Robin on a mission with the team

He was on this mission and watched the entire thing go down

The funny part was that you could still talk since the magic was somewhat incomplete

There’s just this small voice “WHAT THE HELL!”

And then Tim knows that it’s definitely you

Tim was going to take you to one of the magic users in the league

but since Diana was right there when you got back, you stormed up flew up to her and just mouthed off

“DIANA LOOK AT ME! THAT ASSHOLE CIRCE TURNED ME INTO A ROBIN! THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH ROBIN BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE ROBIN! WATCHA LOOKIN AT BATS! I’M NOT UP FOR ADOPTION!”

Tim just died laughing

Cause it really was funny that you were just a little tiny Robin and mouthing off at the most powerful heroes in the world

Recorded it 100%

When Diana takes you to Themyscira in order to get one of the Amazon’s to help, Tim obviously couldn’t come

So it’s about a three day long trip and during that period, Timmy is a mess

He needs to know what’s happening at all times to ensure that you’re alright

When you do finally get home, he tackles you into a hug and checks you up and down to make sure that there’s nothing still wrong

Very happy when he concludes that there’s nothing wrong anymore and you’re back to the regular Y/N

Damian Wayne:

His first instinct is to not let anyone touch you but him

He takes you everywhere and makes sure that you’re alright

You can’t talk but he’s helped birds before and has dated you for some time so he knows what no to do and what to do

That being said, he does want you back to normal ASAP

That means that he’ll call an emergency league meeting without Bruce’s approval

Although Bruce probably would have done the same thing since he really knows that Damian loves you and would make sure that you’re alright

That’s super important to him and the rest of the family since you are kind of family at this point

Damian insists that the magic users help turn you back very quickly

They call in Constantine since Z is off doing other things and he makes sure that he knows exactly what happens

Constantine has had some bad experiences with magic in the past and he wants to be sure that you’re not going to have anything really bad happen to you

Damian is the same way

Probably threatens John’s life if something goes wrong

Once you’re finally back, Damian also tackles you

Though Constantine has to hold him back at first since the shock of turning back and then having someone tackle you to the ground would be over whelming

But when he finally can, he does

Checks you over just like Tim and then doesn’t let you out of his sight for a week or so

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, just not anyone else

He makes it a point that you’re too important to lose

Cuddles everywhere

Once he does step back and think about it though, he finds it kind of endearing that there are thousands of other things that you could’ve turned into but it was a Robin

It was sweet but didn’t need to last longer than it had to

Duke and Luke:

I’m putting these guys together since in my mind they’re pretty alike

Luke is the classical version of Duke and Duke is the Lofi/ alternative hip hop version of Luke

For these reasons they both have very similar reactions

And that would be to freak out

they take you to Bruce and get advice cause what is going on

They don’t have as much of a connection with the Robin deal since they weren’t ever technically Robin for Batman

Duke is a bit more of an arguable case but still

They do find it both suspicious and a bit comedic that it was a Robin out of anything else though

I have to say that they’re the most chill out of any of the Batfam when it comes to something like this since this kind of thing just happens a lot

Not turning into Robin, just weird outta pocket experiences

Like this is just another thing to add to the list of oh here we go again

Duke does think that you’re still really a pretty Robin

In the most non- weird way possible you’re just a pretty Robin

Luke doesn’t really pay attention to that and instead wants to get to the bottom of what happened so that it doesn’t happen again

They’re both really smart so they’ll figure it out but at different paces since one is more urgent than the other

Doesn’t mean that either care less though

Once you’re back they do make sure that extra diagnostics are run to make sure that nothing was effected and you’ll be okay long and short term

Once they’re satisfied it’ll all go back to being pretty normal

Sry this took so long, exams are running wild

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

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Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’ are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

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pure-kirarin · 3 years

Text

The flowers of evil - Sanji x f!reader (Hanahaki)

A/N : Hiii ! thanks a lot for this request. I had a lot of fun writing it ! I didn’t know what hanahaki was before. I really adored it. It’s such a beautiful metaphore for one-sided love. I hope that you will like this !

Hanahaki definition : a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated (wiki)

Warnings : Angst (but happy ending) - Unrequited love

____________________

You forgot when it all started, when these doomed flowers of evil began to blossom allover your body, asphyxiating you, extracting the air from your lungs. The mysterious sickness took over your body, metamorphosing it into a garden of murderous flowers.

Red spider lilies, a field of them, encercled your frail limbs in your sleep, strangling you almost to death, sealing your agony. It was a slow process, a sadistic sickness that savoured each second of torture.

But what was worse ? The pain of the thrones scratching the delicate skin or the pain of a love that was doomed to fail ?

As the flowers grew, you simply withered. Watered by your tears, every day, every breath bringing you closer to an end. For a crime you weren't guilty of, for a love you have never asked for.

« If someone told me that I'd die this way...I would've killed myself. »

And it was true. Your paths crossed with the Strawhats by a mysterious fate. They have found you just after your ship got wrecked by the marine.

You were the only survivor. How ironic.

It was as if you survived just to die to that illness.

The evil flowers have spared you to savour the pain.

Since there were no options, you had to stay with them, but little by little they grew on you just as you grew on them. But someone stood out. His kindness was something you have never encountered before. It was all in the eyes, in his laugh, in the way he treated you like you were the only woman on earth. Oh god, it seemed perfect, too perfect ?

« I am so happy to be his friend ! »

Why couldn't you settle for that ? Why did you want more ?

It was greed and yearning. Craving a happiness that wasn't yours. He wasn't one to give his heart to one woman. You knew it too well, but then, why did you want otherwise ?

The heart wants what it wants. You stopped looking for a reason.

It all started by a habit, a ritual. Coffee in the morning, no sugar, no breakfast.

The cook always woke up earlier to prepare food for the crew. You on the other hand, weren't a breakfast person.

Until you met him.

« Y/N-chan, you're up early today too. » He said, back turned to you, pouring coffee in a cup.

The smell of the coffee invaded the kitchen. You were sitting in front of the table, hair in a mess, yawning. His voice was soft and comforting ; a morning breeze.

«I like waking up early. I get some peaceful moments before everyone else wakes up. » You chuckle.

He puts the cup in front of you. Not only the cup, also a plate with a pastry on it ; a croissant. You look at Sanji, confused ; he knew that you didn't eat for breakfast.

« I made this especially for you, (Y/N)-chan. It's bad to skip breakfast. »

You still remember the buttery richness of the croissant, the face he made as your teeth sunk into it, Just try it for me, he said. And he was right. It was delicious. Was it his skill as a chef, or his encouraging smile that stimulated your appetite ?

Your appetite for something else grew simultaneously.

The long nights you have spent contemplating the stars on the deck. The times he taught you how to use a knife and how you almost cut your finger. And the sweet, sweet taste of croissant balancing the bitterness of coffee, like a bandaid on a deadly wound.

If you didn't love me, why did you do all of this ?

Sometimes, when your chest couldn't take it anymore, you were visited by that thought, that cruel thought. You blamed him. How couldn't you ? It was his kindness that made you fall. It was his gentle smile that was going to be the end of you. And yet, what hurt most wasn't the flowers that grew in your lungs, it was the pain of not being loved in return. The pain of not being good enough for a man like him.

At first, it was a few petals that you coughed. You didn't understand, but when he was closer to you, you felt so light, when he was further, it felt like death. Your yearning for him grew, your body was moved by a fever that made you wish to be dead.

It took you a few days to figure out that the sickness that was gnawing you from the inside like a worm was love sickness.

You knew the condition, it was hanahaki, you have read about it in some fairytales. How could it be real ? Its victim has flowers grow inside of them, grow till it kills them silently.

You tried to hide it, but how when you had a month to live at best ? Everyone started to notice your pale complexion.

You were decaying by the day. In front of you, you had the disease and the cure.

« (Y/N)-chan » His voice. His damned voice making you fall even more. You turn to the side, facing the wall, resting in your bed. You refused to look at him. Did you really loathe him for not loving you back ?

Seeing that you didn't answer, he just keeps talking,

« These are beautiful flowers.. » He says as he looks at the red spider lilies resting in a porcelain vase. Would he say the same if he saw the flowers on your body ?...

« You should tell me if you don't feel alright...You're different those days. You don't even eat anymore. You can count on me. I know that you will feel better if you open up.

-You know nothing at all, Sanji »

You cut him off and sit down on the bed. You were just wearing a nightgown that showed your bruised arms. Fine cuts caused by the flowers that grew on your skin were displayed. You had to snatch them violently multiple times a day.

« You know nothing at all, you said that these flowers were beautiful. Do you even know what they mean..Sanji ? »

He looks at you in disbelief, he holds your arm, looking at the cuts. His touch feels like ice and fire on the bruised skin. His thumb caresses softly a wound, making you shiver. Don’t touch me in that way or I will fall even more...

-Who did this to you ?!

The bruises were like ones of ropes ; it was the stem of the roses that would encircle your arms in your sleep. You snatched off your arm, how could you tell him that it was him ?

You did this to me Sanji.

- It's none of your business...Come on. Leave me alone. I don't want to see you.

The words you spit out felt like poison and hurt him. You didn't even dare looking in his eyes. Those cruel words, you said them so he goes away. To stop the suffering. His worrying looks hurt more as they emphasized your unrequited love. You put a hand on your lips, nauseous.

-(Y/N) ! This is serious. What is the matter with you ? You look sick. I'll call Chopper right now. You go rest.

He gets up and you follow him, almost falling on the ground. You hold his arm, head on his back.

-Don't go ! Please don't. I don't want anyone to see me like this. There isn't anything Chopper can do for me. I am done with all of this. I want it all to end.

[ If it hurts this much, why am I still in love with you ? If it pains me so much, enough to kill me, why does it have to be you ?

If only I have closed my eyes and let myself die that day. If only I died along with my comrades. I would have had a meaningful death.

But here I am, having to die of love.]

You stepped back and started caughing red petals. You put both your hands on your mouth trying to cover it. Sanji turns back, terrified. He didn't understand what was with you, his cheerful, gentle (Y/N)-chan. He didn't understand why you pushed him away like this, as if his fingers burned your skin. As if his mere sight was killing you.

-Don't look at me...Please...Sanji...Don't look. You fall to the ground, your head looking down and tears running down your cheeks. It pained him so much to see you in that state. The petals you were coughing looked like blood. It was stupid, he felt cruel to think that even in such a state you looked so delicate, a flower.

He held the hand that you had on your face and moved it away to take a look at your face, eyebrows frowned, an anger growing inside of him. So, you, his (Y/N)-chan was in love with a bastard that didn't love you back ? It was certain. He knew about this condition.

Hanahaki, a mythical disease born out of one-sided love.

-(Y/N)-chan...This is...

-Hanahaki. You whisper, you can't hide it anymore now, it's too late,

He holds you against his chest, now thorns growing around your body. And you thought that in that moment, you could die in his arms and you'd be happy. Maybe in another life, you thought, maybe in another universe you'll love me back. Maybe it's the price I have to pay for having you...

-Don't die on me. Please. I am sure that...That this bastard loves you back. I mean...You are a goddess, (Y/N). How could anyone...do this to you. Tsk. It makes me sick just to think of it. I'll go look for him and bring him right now ! Hell, I'll kill him if he doesn't love you back.

You have a bitter smile. The flowers grow more and more, you were now vomiting entiere flowers that fell into his lap. You held onto him tighter.

-It's impossible...He is...An idiot...He doesn't even notice and it's right in front of his eyes...

-It doesn't matter. Just tell me who and I wi-

-Why ?! Why do you keep being so kind to me ? Why did you do all of this ? Why are you so gentle, so caring ? Why did you care that I don't eat breakfast ? Why did you make sure I don't feel cold on the deck ? And most of all, why are you like this with all girls ? It kills me...bitter laugh. Your kindness is killing me ! Don't act like this if you don't want girls to fall for you, you idiot ! Don't play with my feelings !

The blond man froze instantly. He has never imagined than a woman like you would fall for him, and to realize that you were suffering because of him left him in a loss of words. Him, Sanji, the lovecook, the man that devoted all of his existence to please women, those delicate creatures that he wasn't worthy of. The same Sanji was the reason of your distress and the object of your desire.

To feel desired to the point of death was flattering in a cruel way but also so foreign. He has convinced himself that no woman would love him and he was happy that way. It was enough for him to share the air that you breathe. But you were offering more ; a flower so pure, so delicate that his fingers could turn into dust.

-It's me that you love ?...

You didn't have any strenght left. You didn't answer. Your days were counted. You felt your chest getting lighter after confessing. It was relief. Words that had to be said.

-It's because of me that you were suffering so much...(Y/N)-chan...You...Wanted someone like me this much ?

He holds you tighter and the thorns sink in his skin, but he didn't care much, the pain that he was feeling inside was way bigger.

-I never thought that I deserved someone like you. I never thought that I deserved to be loved. It was enough for me to see you smile. But you are telling me that you are dying because I don't love you back ?...I would give up my life for you. And because you want someone like me, because you love me this much, I will make you the happiest woman on earth.

It was at this moment that you made him realize, you, on the verge of death, that even a man like him could be loved ; A man that even his father didn't want.

Your eyes were veiled by tears, was he saying this only to mess with you further ? However, the flowers stopped from spreading, and the petals started fading away little by little.

-Sanji...You...I...

He puts a finger on your lips and just says with a smile ;

- (Y/N)-chan, thank you for loving me. For wanting me so bad...Nobody has every loved me the way you do...Nobody has ever loved me to death.

He kisses your tears and adds ;

-I love you too.

#hanahaki disease #hanahaki #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario

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thekisforkeats · 3 years

Text

The Way You Say My Name

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set immediately post-MAG 22. Martin is trans and Jon is amab non-binary.

CWs: Guilt, self-recrimination, worms (mentioned), arguments, shouting, crying, lying (Martin lying about his CV still), transphobia (mentioned), misgendering (mentioned), child abuse (mention of Martin Blackwood's mother)

Summary: Just after MAG 22, Jon apologizes for his treatment of Martin over the past few months. Or tries to, anyway. It's hard to apologize to someone when you don't understand exactly what it is you've done to upset them.

(Of course, once Jon's apologized and Martin's relaxing, well... that's when Jon will finally notice he actually likes Martin, isn't it? Not that he's going to admit to that, even to himself.)

Shoutout to the Martin Blackwood Lovers Discord Server, without whom I would not have written this up and posted it. ;) Jon’s dialogue was (mostly) written by @marianfuckinghawke.

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“Recording ends.”

Jon reached out and pressed the stop button on the tape recorder. He sighed and looked at his phone. The message from Jane Prentiss was still glowing on the screen. He ran a hand through his short hair, aware he was mussing the grey-streaked black and deciding he didn’t care.

He had listened to Martin’s account of the encounter with Jane Prentiss with trepidation and worry. Now he could feel his face settling into something more drawn with concern. First, concern for his two assistants who were out of the Archive at the moment. Second, concern for Martin. The man had gotten himself into this mess because of Jon’s words. Due diligence. Was he really such a hardass that he had put one of his subordinates in harm’s way? How had he not realized that it might come to this?

Martin sat fidgeting, shifting in his seat, and Jon could feel the other man’s soft brown eyes on him. He had the look of a frightened, cornered animal and it cut Jon to the quick. He had done this. Jon was responsible for the man’s state, and he had to figure out how to make it better.

There was silence for a solid three minutes. Then Martin opened his mouth to say, “So if I’m going to be--”

Jon started speaking at exactly the same time. “So obviously you’re--” He blinked and said, “I’m sorry--”

“No, no, you go,” Martin said, raising his hands and waving them rapidly.

“No. It’s alright… go ahead,” Jon replied at the exact same time, then frowned.

Martin cleared his throat, then seemed to gather his courage. “Well. I was going to say. If I’m going to be staying here, I’ll need… things. Like, uhh, there’s a cot, but I’ll need, like… a toothbrush? I mean, you don’t have a stash of those sitting around, do you?” He chuckled in a self-deprecating manner.

“No, I do not,” Jon replied. “Nor do you have a proper change of clothing… you can hardly wear the same outfit for however long this will take, and you won’t want to sleep in what you’re wearing.” He had a sudden mental image of Martin sleeping naked, and cleared his throat while he shoved it away. Hardly an appropriate thought about a co-worker, even if it wasn’t remotely sexual. “We will have to go out and get such things for you… perhaps after I brief Tim and Sasha on the situation.”

Martin nodded. “There’s a room that might be, umm… did you know one of the rooms that’s filled with boxes is supposed to be the break room?” He gave that self-deprecating laugh again. “‘Course you know that, stupid, what am I saying…” He glanced aside, cheeks flushing. “Umm. Anyway. Umm. It’s bigger than the room you’ve got the cot in? If… if… I’m going to be staying here… I could clean it out… make it livable, maybe, umm, get some snacks and tea and things in, and there’d be more room for extra cots… in case you need somewhere to stay late or… something…” A pause. “Or not! Or just. You know. I’ll just. Have lots of time, so. I can. Clean. The break room.”

Jon did not, in fact, know that they’d had a break room at all. It had been frustrating to have everyone going up to the Admin break room on the ground floor, and he’d said so more than once. No, wait… had someone told him, and had he just told them off about clearing the room out?

He was suddenly horribly aware of how many times he’d griped at Martin for going up there to make tea that he had then gone ahead and drunk. How had he been such a prick to this man?

When Jon had started as Head Archivist, he’d had all sorts of plans for team morale, bonding exercises, and the like. He’d always hated them personally but they were the sort of thing bosses were supposed to do. The trouble was that all of his “how best to run the Archives as a team” ideas had flown right out of his head once he’d gotten down there and found himself at a desk where a woman had maybe died, struggling to record statements, dealing with doggy messes, and that damned persistent feeling of being watched.

Well, now was as good a time as any to start acting the way he should have all along.

“Martin… we will clean the break room. Together. As a group.” He ran his hand through his hair again. He really was going to look a mess. “It is a communal space, it will be a communal job.” He added quickly, “Yes, I know you’ll be here more than the rest of us, but I want us all involved. We need…” He sighed. Time to apologize. “I have been… less supportive of you than I should. And…” He swallowed, aware of the flush rising on his cheeks. “I feel I must apologize. So… I am sorry. But we should do more together, especially given that circumstances have escalated.”

Martin blinked at him for a moment. “You’re… sorry. For… being less… supportive than you should have been.” There was a hard-to-read undercurrent in his tone.

“For being… rude to you… and for punishing you…” Jon replied. “Unjustly.” He gestured to the recorder. “All of this… happened because of your adherence to my instructions…” He frowned. “So. I’m sorry.”

“Well,” Martin snapped, “at least you’re finally realizing that it was… unjust.” He glared at Jon, who suddenly felt pinned to the spot by eyes that were no longer soft but had gone hard as agates.

Jon blinked at Martin. “Are… are you alright?” He was apologizing! He couldn’t be messing that up this badly, could he?

Martin drew a long breath in through his nose. “Yeah,” he said, in a high-pitched, clipped tone. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He went to stand abruptly, pushing away from the desk, and in that same tone, “Well, you’d better get to… briefing people, then. I’ll just… go see how far my paycheck can stretch in Chelsea.” His tone was dripping with bitterness by the end.

Jon stood up. “Martin!” He was vaguely aware of saying it in the same irritated tone he always used for the man’s name, aware that Martin visibly flinched at the word, and tried to moderate his tone. “What is going on? I am apologizing! Is… am I missing something?” He moved around the desk to try to be sure Martin didn’t just leave without finishing the conversation.

“No,” Martin said, stopping while facing the door, tone still a good two octaves above normal. “No, it’s fine. You’re apologizing, and that’s good.” His whole frame was stiff, though, and his tone practically screamed “lying.”

Jon couldn’t read people all that well, but even he could read the signs Martin was giving off. “While your words are clear, your body language says quite otherwise.” He tried to moderate his tone again, but he couldn’t help sounding mildly irritated. He didn’t like being lied to, especially concerning his own actions, and he wasn’t sure what he had done incorrectly in this situation. “Now will you stop and talk to me?”

Martin turned away from the door, faced Jon, jaw set firmly. “What do you want me to say, Jon? Do you want me to… to forgive you? To say ‘oh, sure, you’re sorry, so that makes up for the last six months where you’ve made me want to quit my job every day?’ Am I supposed to… to… just… oh, well, there’s danger, so now you’ve realized I’m an actual person, now you’re going to stop kicking me around, now you’re going to pitch in to help around here as I’m not already the one spending all his time trying to clean up the mess while Tim and Sasha run out to research things so you don’t have to send anyone to double-check my work? Never mind that I’ve been trapped for two weeks, I could’ve been dead and none of you bothered to check on me!”

Martin was all but shouting by the end of the diatribe, every line of him stiff and furious, and Jon was suddenly very aware of the fact that Martin was taller and bigger than he was. He cringed away from Martin, took a step back. “I… I…” He turned away to his desk, grabbed his phone. “Here…” he said, handing it to Martin. “Look!” The phone would solve the problem, if Martin could just see… “There… I… just… please…”

The moment Jon had cringed away Martin had hunched his shoulders, deliberately making himself smaller. Now he was taking long, deep breaths, his expression ashamed. He reached out to take the phone from Jon.

The display was still on the screen of Jon’s message history with Martin. Before the last message from Jane Prentiss was a long list of messages from Jon--numerous messages inquiring about Martin’s health, worried and concerned. He had linked articles about foods to eat when feeling ill, then when he’d realized some of those might be hard for Martin to make alone, found new links that had easier recipes.

There were also, Jon knew, greyed-out deleted messages.

Martin, know that your presence is missed here at the Archives. I am wishing you a quick recovery.

I know it’s sudden, but I find myself missing you. Just thought you should know.

And others, so many others, as Jon had tried to figure out how to pierce the wall built by the texts he’d been getting back from what he now knew was Jane Prentiss, asking to be left alone.

As Jon watched Martin reading the messages he nervously bounced in place, one arm folded over his chest to hold the other. He could feel his skin glowing from embarrassment and he wasn’t even sure why. The blush faded, however, as he watched Martin. Watched the anger fade, and realized what lay underneath. The pain that had been underlying that anger, the way it lifted as Martin read through the message history--it was like a revelation. Martin must have walked in here convinced nobody at his place of employment really cared about him, and Jon realized that that was, indeed, what he must usually think, if something as simple as text messages was making something like hope bloom on his face.

It occurred to Jon, suddenly, that nobody had checked on Martin. For two weeks. No friends, no family. Nobody had even noticed the man was gone.

Jon had to fix this. Somehow. And not by wrapping Martin up in a fierce hug like he very much wanted to; that would not be appreciated from the man’s asshole boss. Even if Martin looked like he really, really needed a hug.

By the time Martin handed the phone back to Jon, his breathing was shaky and unsteady. He dropped back into the chair, like his legs suddenly weren’t working. “S-sorry,” he managed in the barest of whispers. “Sorry.”

“That’s… my line,” Jon said. “I am sorry. I should have said more to make it clear… you are a valued member of this team.” He shook his head, wincing at how… canned that line sounded, but pushed on. “I should have said it at least once. And… I never did. I held you at arm’s length and ostracized you. And… I understand how you felt all that time now…” He sighed. “And… yes, it may have taken this incident to make me realize how terrible a person I’ve been to you since… since you started working here.”

Martin stared down at his hands; Jon could see he was crying, but silently, without sniffling or sobbing. “Why?” he finally managed. He looked up at Jon. “Why? What did I… do? I mean… there was the whole ‘dog’ business at the beginning… what, do you hate dogs that much?” There was a kind of desperation in his tone.”

“No… I mean, sure I’m more of a cat person, but… no… I don’t hate dogs.” Jon frowned. “I… I’ve given that a lot of thought these past two weeks and I think I figured it out.” He sighed. “It wasn’t you I was angry with.” He took a breath. “I was angry at Elias. I like to have a sense of who I work with, to get to know them before I get into anything serious.” Oh, no, wait, that sounded… he hadn’t meant it like… work. He’d meant work! No, he was overthinking that; Martin knew he meant work. He stammered for a moment, though. “It’s… part of who I am… as a person.

Jon took a breath, to steady himself. Focus on the apology. “When Elias… placed you here without telling or consulting me about the selection process, it… felt like a betrayal. I felt that agency over my department had been taken out of my hands. And yes… I know he runs the Institute, but he should have at least consulted me about who is in my department.”

He dropped his head and reached to take a box of tissues from the side of the desk, to slide them towards Martin. An olive branch. “I took out that anger and frustration on you. And that was wrong, I know that now.”

“Not like I wanted to be here either,” Martin mumbled, reaching out for a tissue and wiping at his eyes. It didn’t do much to stop the tears. “I mean, I didn’t even want the damn library job, I j-just…” He stumbled, stammering, “It’s… it’s harder to get a position with a degree in parapsychology than you might think.” He sniffled. “B-but… even on top of that… you and Tim and Sasha, you’re all friends already, you requested them. Even if Tim and Sasha and I get along they don’t really know me, and you… well…” He sighed. “When Elias said I was going to work for Jonathan Sims I just about freaked out. You’ve got a… reputation, you know? I just… I knew it’d be… lonely down here, and it really has been.” There was a furrow between his brows now as he looked at Jon.

Jon frowned. He’d known he had a reputation around the Institute, but he hadn’t thought it was that bad. He took a deep breath; this wasn’t about him right now. “Then let us work on fixing that. Starting now. Like I said, we need to be working together more, improve the… office atmosphere. I… have come to admire your dedication to your work. ‘Due diligence,’ as you put it.”

Martin regarded him quietly for a moment. Then he said, “The thing that really bothers me… I don’t… I don’t think you’d understand.”

Jon frowned. Then, finally, softly, “Try me. You might be surprised.”

Martin swallowed. “I… I’m trans,” he blurted. “Like, I was… I had a girl’s name, when I was younger. Figured out I was a guy when I was a teenager, started hormones, and… well…” He took a deep breath. “My mum’s never approved, you know? She’s always been… difficult, she’s… sometimes she’ll… well, I mean, you know how parents will… say your name, right? Like, when you’ve… disappointed them.”

Jon’s frown deepened. He did not, in fact, know how parents said one’s name, but he could remember his grandmother saying Jonathan in tones of deepest disapproval when he’d come back from wandering off. So he nodded; he understood the feeling, at least.

Martin wiped at his eyes again. “The way she said my name… it made me hate my name. My deadname, I mean. But it… helped me realize I was trans, because when I thought about something else I’d want to be called, I came up with ‘Martin.’ And… and I’m kind of glad sometimes, that she… misgenders me, and refuses to call me Martin, because it means she’ll never, ever say it in that… disappointed tone. I have never regretted that choice, not once, until…”

Martin took in a long, shuddering breath, then straightened himself, looking Jon right in the eye. Like he knew what he was going to say wouldn’t go over well, but he had to say it. “The way you say my name, when you snap at me? It’s exactly like my mother says my deadname. And nobody has ever made me regret that choice. Not… ever.” He swallowed. “Until I met you.”

Jon stared at Martin for a long moment, horrified. He was non-binary himself, and yet he’d never changed his name, never even asked people to call him by different pronouns although he might have preferred it; he’d never had the courage to do so. He’d always been terrified of what people might think of him. Yet here was Martin, strong enough to change himself outwardly despite his mother’s disapproval, strong enough to keep coming in every day to deal with a boss who made him regret the name he’d chosen for himself.

In that moment, Jon felt very much like he did not deserve Martin Blackwood. That the Institute did not deserve Martin Blackwood. They would have to do better, somehow.

Finally he managed, “I’m… I didn’t know. I--” He curled his mouth in disgust. How did one respond to that? Do better? That was only a marginally acceptable platitude. “I will endeavor to change my tone.” He didn’t like that any better, but it was the best he could do.

Jon really, really wanted to offer Martin a hug. The man looked like he needed one. Tim would have offered a hug, workplace hugs could be acceptable… but, no, Jon was Martin’s boss, and Martin had just said how much he hated Jon--because if Jon reminded Martin of the mother who deliberately misgendered him, then he had to hate Jon--and who would want a hug from someone they hated?

There was something he could do to help, though. To pay Martin back, as it were. So he, too, straightened, and said, “Well. You were talking about how far your paycheck will stretch in Chelsea, but I think that will be quite unnecessary. Given that you encountered Jane Prentiss while in the line of duty, as it were, I think we can expense your essentials to the Institute without too much trouble.”

Martin’s eyes widened. “W-wait… won’t that… I mean… won’t Mr. Bouchard be… upset about that?”

Jon actually smirked. “Don’t you worry about Elias; I fully intend to take out my irritation about his habits as a supervisor on him instead of you from here on out.” Not directly, of course, but Elias would be irritated by the entire setup, and some petty part of Jon enjoyed that thought.

Martin was staring at Jon now. “I… I wouldn’t want you to… get in trouble…”

Jon waved a hand. “It’s the least I can do.” He stood. “Let’s get to the shops for toiletries before they close and then we can see about getting some clothing delivered. And, ahh, do you have any… prescriptions you’ll need…?” He was thinking about hormones. “I suppose I could send Tim ‘round to your flat, but I wouldn’t want to put him in danger either…”

Martin stood, hesitating. “I’ll… figure all that out. It’s alright. Really.”

Jon came around the desk to grasp Martin by the arms and look up at him, intently. It was the closest thing to a hug he’d let himself get to. “Martin,” he said, as gently as he could manage, with as much respect as he could manage, “you put yourself in danger because of the way your superiors at this Institute have treated you. Let me at least begin to partly repay that debt. Please.”

Martin was blinking down at him. “Uh… umm… aren’t we having… Mr. Bouchard repay the debt…?”

Jon smiled up at Martin as he dropped his arms. "Ahh, but we’re not going to ask Elias to come help clear out the breakroom. Can you imagine him moving boxes?” He could feel the smile edging into a grin. “His arms would break just from trying to pick one up.”

Martin had started to smile, hesitantly. That was what Jon had been going for; he hadn’t realized how much he actually liked Martin’s smile until he hadn’t been around for two weeks. “I-I mean… you’re not the biggest guy yourself… you might have the same problem.”

“Mmm, fair,” Jon replied, “but I am willing to scrub a floor if I must.”

Martin’s smile widened. “Y-yeah, I can’t imagine… Elias… scrubbing a floor.” He giggled, suddenly. “He probably pays people to do that stuff. He… he’d probably have been hopeless stuck in his flat for two weeks.”

Jon laughed at the mental image of Elias Bouchard stuck in a flat, living off canned meals, a laugh so full he actually threw his head back a bit. “Good lord, Elias, having to live off tinned peaches? Can... you... imagine?”

“H-he’d… probably… start shouting for Rosie.” Martin was giggling so hard he could barely get the words out. He put on a bad posh accent and said, “‘Rosie, why do we have all these tinned peaches? I did not approve this budget!’”

They both dissolved into helpless laughter, both reaching out to the other to hold themselves up. There was a moment, as the laughter waned, that their eyes met, and Jon felt something swoop and flutter in his gut. Martin had such a nice smile, and such a pleasant laugh, and it would be wonderful to have both around more often, and it was making him a little dizzy if he was being honest. When was the last time he’d felt that swoop and flutter? Georgie? Briefly, with Tim?

No, no, that was the laughter and the proximity. That was all. They were bonding over dislike of Elias. That was all.

At least he’d managed to clear the air.

Jon straightened, and kept smiling as he turned toward the door. “Come along, then, Martin,” he said, and again deliberately infused the word with as much respect as he could muster. “Let’s get to the shops.”

Martin nodded. “Thanks for this, Jon,” he said, and oh dear there was another swoop at the way Martin said his name. Had he always said it like that? Had Jon just not noticed? “Really. Thank you.”

Jon turned away to school his expression. This would not do. He was not going to let himself feel any more… swoops for a subordinate. It just wouldn’t do. No matter how nice of a smile he had. He did not have a crush on Martin, because he could not have a crush on Martin, and that was that.

Feeling a little better--it was always a relief, sorting out his emotions--Jon headed out to help Martin get settled into the Archives.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #jon sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #otp: one way or another together #fanfic #my fanfic #canon tma fic #send help i'm in too deep #i owe the discord server at least two more fics already #GUYS HELP

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opaldraws · 3 years

Text

Dandelion

Billy never thought that he would become a dad. Besides believing that it wouldn’t be possible for a person like him, he also was scared shitless. He’d seen first hand what happens when the wrong kind of person became a parent, he knew how screwed up things could get. He had this huge fear that he would ruin a kid’s life. And even though Steve had assured him countless times that Billy would be a fantastic dad if they were to have a kid, he also accepted that Billy wasn’t ready for fatherhood and he may never be. So Steve never pushed the idea.

Then Max had a baby.

Out of the pair, no one expected Billy would be the one hit with baby fever.

Max was only able to get three weeks of leave from her work, so Billy volunteered to help out with little Julien. Julien was precious: He slept for long hours and rarely cried, he loved playing peek-a-boo and was easily entertained by crinkly paper, and when he got especially fussy, all Billy had to do was put him in his swing and Julien would knock right out.

Billy would come home from Max and Lucas’ and gush to Steve about whatever him and Julien got up to that day. It was usually the same sort of stuff, babies don’t really do that much, but Steve would listen fondly to Billy’s report while they cooked dinner together. Eventually Max found a sitter and changed her work hours, so Billy didn’t spend as much time with the runt.

A few years passed and Billy mentioned having kids of their own. Steve and him were in bed, the light on the nightstand casting enough light for Billy to read but not too much that Steve couldn’t doze off.

“Steve.” Billy ruffled Steve’s hair gently, letting his hand wander down to rub his back. Steve blinked over at him sleepily, his eyes a little unfocused without his glasses.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, frowning.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just… I’ve been thinking lately, maybe we could look into adoption?” Billy wrung his hands together nervously. When Steve didn’t answer immediately, Billy interjected, “Only if you want to, of course! Fuck, nevermind. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

Billy picked his book up, not able to look back at his partner. Steve hadn’t seen him this nervous since Billy had asked him to marry him. This conversation caught Steve off guard- and not only because he was half asleep. They’d talked about kids before when they were freshly married (technically unofficially, but whatever), Billy said he didn’t think he’d ever want to go down that path. And now, Billy was bringing it up.

“Babe, it’s not stupid.” Steve said seriously. “I want to do that with you.”

...

Adoption for two gay men in 2000 wasn’t easy. They were basically at the bottom of the ‘list’ of candidates and they’d been through multiple near adoptions that eventually fell through in just the past two years. Steve was beginning to lose hope, but Billy stayed determined. He called the adoption agency every week and he stopped by in person once a month. Steve told him he was probably bothering the agency, he said that they had their application and when the right kid came along, everything would work out. Billy’s perspective wasn’t quite as rose-colored as Steve’s: He realized that the agency didn’t want a same-sex couple adopting a baby. They may not outright say it, but he could tell. Billy wanted to show them that they were just as serious as any other couple.

In November of 2001, they got the call from the agency. The weekend before they brought their daughter home, Billy and Steve prepared the second bedroom for their new addition. Steve excitedly put up a fresh coat of paint while Billy struggled through assembling furniture for the bedroom. When they finished, they stood side by side in the doorway, misty eyed and excited for their daughter’s homecoming.

“We’re going to be parents.” Steve sighed, he let his head fall to Billy’s shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m so scared.” Billy admitted. He took a deep breath and tried to ease the panic creeping in. Steve gently wrapped his arms around him, pulling Billy in to hold him. Billy sagged into the hug.

“I am too, but I know it’s gonna be okay.” Steve said.

“How could you know that though?” Billy asked fearfully. So many things could go wrong, what if this was a mistake? Steve tightened his arms around Billy and leaned them against the doorframe.

“Because I know you. I’ve seen you grow into the man you are today and I know you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

...

Billy knew that for every developmental milestone that Abby passed, he should be excited. Don’t get him wrong, he was beyond happy to see his daughter growing and becoming a little person… but he also got sad? Abby was growing up so fast, one day she was crawling around on the carpet and the next she was racing around the apartment wreaking havoc. It felt like only a few days ago she drooled and needed to be spoon fed, now she was talking in barely formed sentences. Sometimes Billy would just curl up next to Steve in bed at night and have to cry about how big Abby was getting. Steve would rub his back, comforting his partner as best as he could. These breakdowns started happening more frequently as Abby’s 2nd birthday got nearer and nearer. Billy was aware that he was being dramatic, but his little girl was growing up way too fast. He felt like he was going to blink and then she’d be gone, old enough not to need her dads anymore.

“Billy, stop worrying about the future, Abby’s barely two! You have got to just live for today.” Max scolded him during one of Abby’s and Julien’s playdates after he had opened up to her. It was a sunny June day and Julien was happily keeping Abby occupied on a blanket in Lucas and Max’s yard. Lucas had been called out of town for a work emergency and Steve had gotten stuck covering a late shift. The step-siblings watched the kids from the porch, periodically bringing out new toys and snacks.

“Yeah, that’s what Steve keeps telling me. That’s what everyone keeps telling me, shitbird.” Billy huffed, rolling his eyes. “I can’t help it!”

“Listen to me, I felt the same way. Every time I had to go into work, every time I left Julien with you or Lucas, or the babysitter, I was so afraid that I was missing out on his childhood. Even when I was with him, all I could think about was how I could never get this moment back. But it’s useless to think that way! I realized that I couldn’t stop time from passing so I needed to enjoy it while it lasted!” Max insisted. She grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Billy squeezed back. Even though Max was younger than him, he appreciated the wisdom she occasionally provided. He was happy that their days of fighting and heated arguing were left behind at the house on Cherry Lane.

Billy looked out at the yard, he watched the way Abby would giggle when Julien ran circles around her with his toy airplane. She made grabby hands at him and squealed, “My turn!” Julien passed the toy plane to her and she zoomed it around. Max gave his shoulder a hard pat and announced that she was going to get food ready. Billy walked over to the rainbow blanket and sat down beside the duo.

“Daddy attack!” Abby jumped up, discarding the airplane to wrap her arms around his shoulders and climb onto his back. He held onto her chubby little legs and she laughed into his ear. He tried not to dwell on the future, let himself enjoy the moment. “Down.” Abby instructed him and he helped her back to the ground. She plucked a nearby dandelion from the ground and held it to Billy triumphantly. “Present for you.”

“Thank you baby, I love it.” He smiled at her, taking the dandelion. She beamed at him, clearly happy that her gift was well received. He tucked the yellow flower into the breast pocket of his shirt. Julien came bounding up to them excitedly, hiding something behind his back.

“I have a present for you too, Uncle Billy!” Julien grinned and offered him a wiggling pink worm clasped between his fingers. Billy chuckled and took the worm and Julien bounded off - probably to find more worms.

Abby went back to playing with the airplane and some of Julien’s matchbox cars. She pretended that Billy’s arm was the road and rolled the cars over it, back and forth. Every so often, she would show Billy a new car, telling him which color it was or if she liked it or not. Steve had been working on colors with her a lot recently, and Abby had gotten into the habit of pointing out the colors of things frequently. It was really adorable and she always looked proud when she got the color right. And when Billy would catch those intrusive thoughts about the future, he gave it his all not to dwell on them and instead focus on Abby rolling her car over his arm. Max rejoined them with a big plate of fruit and sandwiches to share for an early dinner, calling Julien over to eat.

Before Billy knew it, a few hours had passed and the sun was beginning to set. He helped Max bring all the toys back in the house and the kids savored the last few minutes of light while they cleaned up. Billy caught a glimpse of the clock on his trip inside; It was nearing 7pm and Steve would be arriving soon to pick them up. Billy and Max tried to coax the kids inside with the promise of a movie, but Julien had other ideas.

“Five more minutes? Please? Momma, I wanna see the fireflies!” Julien tugged at Max’s pant legs, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. “I promise I’ll be good for bedtime!” For a five year old, Julien was quite the negotiator. Of course Max caved which meant that Abby also got to chase the growing number of fireflies blinking around the yard. Billy couldn’t help but grin watching the cousins running around- and periodically jumping up- to try and catch the glowing bugs. After struggling to jump high enough to reach any of the fireflies, Abby pouted at Billy.

“Hold me?” She asked and how could Billy say no? He lifted her up in the air and she swung her little hands around, attempting to catch at least one bug. Billy could tell that she was getting frustrated when each time she came back fruitless. Abby got distracted by Julien showing Max all of the bugs he had captured, a faint green-ish yellow glow coming from his closed fists. “Daddy! Want one.” Abby’s chin wobbled - one of her tell tale signs that a meltdown was coming.

“Okay honey, I’ll get you one.” He smiled and moved her so that she was propped on his hip. They walked slowly around the yard together and Billy caught one for her. He helped her get it in her hand and her eyes widened. “Now you’ve got to be real careful, you don’t want to squish it right?” Abby shook her head no, wanting to keep her new friend forever. Billy watched the way she would peek into her fist to catch a glimpse of the small bug, finding it sweet how gentle she treated it. She kissed the top of her hand and said “I love you” to the tiny insect hidden within. Billy was so transfixed with her that he didn’t notice Steve’s arrival; It startled him when a hand met the small of his back. Abby lit up even more once she saw Steve.

“Papa look! Bug!” She opened up her hand to show Steve the bug, but the firefly took the opportunity to make its escape and flew off into the night sky before Abby could close her hand. She gasped and tried to reach for it in a futile attempt. Here comes the meltdown... or so Billy thought.

“Oh Abby, it was such a beautiful firefly! Looked like it was a really good flyer too huh?” Steve smiled and Abby only pouted a little. “Now it’s going to go home and tell all of its friends about you. And we gotta go home too sweetheart, it’s getting pretty late. Let’s say bye to Julien and Aunt Max, okay?” Steve was great at de-escalating a situation, he always knew exactly the right thing to say to stop Abby’s tears. Billy put Abby back down on her feet so that she could go over to Max and Julian to say goodbye. Steve turned to Billy and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking his hand and walking them over to the trio waiting for them.

“Seems like you were able to get out of your head today, I’m glad.” Max said to Billy during their hug.

Once their farewells were said and done and they were all loaded up into Steve’s car, the small family made the short drive back home. Steve’s hand rested over Billy’s atop his thigh, periodically giving it a light, reassuring squeeze.

Back home, Steve carried a sleepy Abby in from the car and straight to her bed (he hated for her to miss brushing her teeth, but made an exception because of the long day she had had). While Steve helped Abby get settled in, Billy headed into their bedroom. He picked one of the heavier hardcover books off the bookshelf and pulled the dandelion out of his pocket. He tucked the wilting flower between the pages, saving it so that he could remember the day. Steve came into the bedroom as he was reshelving the book, he walked straight to Billy and wrapped his arms around him.

“Had a good day?” Steve asked. Billy twisted in his grip, turning to face Steve. They shared a few slow kisses, with no intention to escalate, only to be in each other’s space after being apart for the day. Billy pulled back, hands still holding onto Steve’s waist securely.

“Yeah, it was really good.” He smiled. Sure Abby was growing up, but they had so many years ahead of them, so many warm summer days just like this one. Although Billy didn’t expect he could completely quell his anxieties about the future, he was ready to start enjoying the moments as they happened.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #dads!harringrove #my fic

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mcheang · 4 years

Note

Hello. It's been a while. :) Post-Miracle Queen: There’s an Akuma who turns people into cute baby animals. During this state, people don't have memories as humans. They act like an animal would. Marinette gets hit and becomes the class pet until Ladybug fixes everything. Lila doesn't like this and having to pretend to coo over her rival. Her fake enthusiasm and plots to get Marinette banned temporarily from school gets her caught eventually by angry classmates.

Baby Mari

This is a draft

It’s annoying when your older siblings pull the whole “I’m older” card on you. Sometimes it can lead to deep, negative emotions. Something Hawkmoth takes advantage of when he akumatizes Perrine, fed up with her bossy older brother telling their mother she isn’t responsible enough for a pet yet.

So she is transformed to the Pacifier, and is heading for Dupont, where her brother is.

With a shake of her rattle, Pacifier sprinkles glitter on her victims, who turns into adorable baby animals.

The students were used to akumatizations and ran for it. Except Marinette couldn’t just leave Alya behind to film. And she got caught in the glitter as well.

Alya picked up a baby....bunny? (What? The ears could resemble pigtails when flattened)

https://youtu.be/_v94XqFW4Qw

Somehow Tikki avoided discovery. This is terrible. With the Guardian gone, Chat Noir will be on his own! Well, Mr Bug will be on his own, because the akuma has to be purified.

After Pacifier departed with her new pets, she went to find her mother.

School resumed. Alya had permission to bring Marinette to class since her parents didn’t allow pets in the bakery and it would probably take an hour for the akuma to be defeated. Otherwise, the bakery would be shut down for a while as Tom and Sabine looked through pet care guides.

As the class cooed over Marinette, Lila scowled over the loss of attention. With Chloé gone into hiding, there was one less contender for the spot of class queen.

Rose noticed Lila hanging back. “Come give her a pet Lila. She won’t bite. Marinette is such a cute bunny, and her fur is so soft!”

Lila plastered on a relieved smile, like she was glad people think she could get close to Marinette now.

Except as soon as the bunny smelled the liar, she instinctively bit the finger.

Lila: OW!

Lila recoiled, clutching her bleeding finger.

But instead of trying to comfort her, the girls actually chided Marinette in soft tones. “No, Mari, we don’t bite people.”

Alix: Wow, even in bunny form Marinette doesn’t like Lila.

Kim: you should go to the nurse Lila.

Lila: is no one going with me?

Everyone stared at her like she was being ridiculous.

Alya: Lila, it’s not a major wound. You don’t need us to follow you around everywhere. You’ll be fine.

Mylene: maybe Marinette’s hungry?

Adrien: does anybody have snacks? I have some Camembert but I read that rabbits shouldn’t eat those.

And just like that, Lila was dismissed from their minds.

As she stared in furious disbelief, Max glanced back to remind her to go.

That’s it. Time for the rodent to go.

Lila waited until lunch before grabbing Marinette with the lunch lady’s gloves. She just caused a food fight before grabbing Marinette as everyone turned to look at the spectacle.

As Lila headed to the second floor, she intended to drop Marinette from that height on the concrete, but the class quickly noticed her absence and spread out, calling for her.

Of course someone had to notice Lila was wearing gloves.

Lila quickly claimed she was trying to get Marinette to the safety of the class. That got her some gratitude, until wrinkled noses pointed out that Marinette must have confused rubber gloves for a litter box. Said gloves were currently dripping on Lila’s favorite shoes.

Alya managed to get Marinette out of Lila’s grip before she strangled the bunny.

Maybe she should try shooting the bunny instead. People hunt bunnies right?

Nah. Too much work.

Fine, how about insisting that pets are not allowed in school? But Damocles has been turned into a baby owl and Ms Bustier was all for letting the class bond over a class pet. ...is it too late to pretend she has a late-acting allergy?

Ooh. Lila’s got it. She goes to talk to a school assistant instructing some students on how to care for their new class Chinchilla.

Lila goes up, praising him for his hard work and knowledge but also offers her sympathies for cleaning up after the animal messes. And don’t they shed too?

Unfortunately the assistant turns out to be Mylene’s father. Wasn’t he supposed to be an actor? And he calls over Mylene to tell Lila where she put the gloves and poop bags.

And as for the shed hair, even humans have hair loss.

Mylene thinks it’s wonderful of Lila to volunteer for poop duty, but she shouldn’t be surprised. The excited Mylene hands Lila her new equipment before she can protest.

Lila is furious. But she eventually makes use of an opportunity to sweep Marinette into the pan and throw her into the dumpster. Everyone else backed off when Lila suggested they take her shift, hence they didn’t see Marinette getting swept up.

Except there was no way for them not to notice Marinette was missing once Lila had gone. Suspicious, Adrien stopped Lila.

Inside the pan, they found a stinky bunny.

Lila: oops, I must have accidentally caught her.

Adrien: how do you accidentally catch a bunny when her....um...business is smaller than she is?!

Lila: I don’t watch while sweeping.

Kim: that is just plain stupid.

Mylene: aren’t you supposed to be an expert at this sort of thing?

Lila nearly squawked in outrage at the idea that being a frequent volunteer means being experienced at clean up.

Alya: maybe you better take a day off? You don’t seem to have a way with animals. You can get away because the akuma is still out.

Lila couldn’t believe it. They were actually kicking her out. She was going to protest before Rose started insisting they give Marinette a proper wash.

Lila tries to volunteer for that but Max interrupted, “Sorry Lila. But with what has already happened, you’re more likely to choke Marinette with soap than otherwise.”

He wasn’t that far off. Lila would have likely drowned the baby animal.

Lila stormed out of school. As luck would have it, she crossed the Pacifier’s path.

A sprinkle of glitter.

Where once stood a teenage girl now stood a crow fledgling. Shame how nobody was around to witness this. Lila the crow lay helpless on the ground, until the Pacifier plucked her up and dumped her into a pram stuffed with other baby animals. It was a tight squeeze, and suffocating since the baby crow was smaller than the other animals.

It took some time for Mr Bug to defeat the Pacifier, though it helped that Pacifier was distracted by the sight of a baby bunny rolling around in flour.

When the Miraculous Mr Bug was cast, Marinette found herself safe at home. Lila found herself on the street sucking on a worm.

Lila spat it out. “Ew!”

When Marinette returned to class, her friends still coddled her and pampered her, much to her bemusement. Lila just glowered from the back. She never wanted to see another baby animal ever again.

Caline: alright class, settle down! Welcome back Marinette. Since we had such fun taking care of Marinette, I thought of a fun project for home economics.

Ms Bustier moved aside to reveal hamsters in their own cages.

You have got to be kidding me! Lila thought furiously. Her assigned hamster likes to bite too.

To rub salt in the wound, Marinette and Adrien were the proud new parents of Fu the hamster.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #murderous lila #lila karma #lila salt #lila bashing #post miracle queen #mr bug

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quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH64

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 64: The Queen’s Inheritance (III)

"You are really disgusting, what kind of garbage aesthetics does the person who created you have?" the sacrifice with the tangdao said. He turned his head and felt no guilt about destroying the ceremony.

He stood on the steps and looked at the growing monster. The black mist could no longer cover its body that had swollen after absorbing the blood of the worshippers and sacrifices. Now it was a strange creature like a crawling earthworm standing on the altar, and it was still expanding.

"Come on, eat a little more. When you’re full, we’ll have a good time. But don't eat too much. If you eat too much, I can't clean it up, then I’ll have to run away," the mysterious sacrifice told his plans to the monster in a magnanimous manner. He jumped away from its tentacles and mercilessly cut them off with his sword. The tentacles, that were curled up when they were cut, bounced twice on the steps and fell onto the ground below that was about to become a blood pool.

The mysterious sacrifice stood on the steps, looked up at the eye projected over the hall, sneered, and then looked back at the scene under the steps.

The whole ceremony scene had been completely reduced to hell on earth, and a large number of sacrifices had escaped. The sacrifices that hadn’t escaped before had died very quickly, and the worshippers were even worse. Some of them were crazily and frantically attacking each other, while others had simply committed suicide. Several tentacles that had come down from above the altar were cruising among the bodies, constantly devouring them.

The smell of death is pleasant, the mysterious sacrifice thought carelessly as he took a sniff. Ever since he had entered the Nightmare World from the real world more than two months ago, there were new surprises waiting for him every day, which would be regarded as abnormal things in the real world yet taken for granted here. This world, which completely follows the law of the jungle, was simply a paradise for people like him.

The mysterious sacrifice looked down and looked at the chaotic ceremony scene with great interest. The two people I saw outside also followed me here.

These two people... Interesting!

The mysterious sacrifice’s eyes were bright, and he jumped like a cheetah down from the steps of the altar. The cheetah casually rushed to the man who was trying to wake up his companion who had been dazed by the giant eyeball. He suddenly turned his sword on him, forcing him to loosen his hand and draw his sword.

Qi Leren, barely conscious and losing what he had been leaning against, fell to the ground on unstable feet and looked at the dome of the temple with empty eyes. That huge eyeball was still floating in the void. It seemed to exist there, but it seemed to exist in his imagination. No matter whether he opened his eyes or closed his eyes, the mysterious woman's dreamy voice lingered.

Ning Zhou was fighting head-to-head with the mysterious sacrifice. The person in front of him looked only twenty. He looked like Qi Leren, a foreigner, but his skills weren’t those of someone who had lived in peace—this was the common fault of foreigners. It was almost impossible for this group of people from the peaceful world to undergo years of training, so they more or less all had undisciplined fighting styles. But this man... This man was definitely a trained master!

In a short time, the two people have exchanged more than a dozen moves. Amidst the fierce fighting, the two began to use the original forces in their bodies intentionally or unintentionally. At that time, the terrifying supernatural power caused chaos around them.

"Interesting, I didn't expect some unexpected gains this time." The man with the tangdao grinned and looked very happy.

"...Who are you?" Ning Zhou asked coldly.

"A passerby*." Claiming to be a passerby, the mysterious sacrifice answered casually and drew his sword against the other again.

*{E/N: Pronounced “lu ren”, see end notes}

Ning Zhou didn't want to tangle with this puzzling guy at all, but the other party was not an opponent who could be easily beaten. After a short hesitation, he decided not to pull his hand, and let the surging force of destruction in his body spew out from the depths of his soul—for a moment, the force of destruction spread from him like an explosion, and the mysterious sacrifice who was close to him was flown out more than ten meters away.

"Angry?" The passerby stabbed the ground with his sword.

Ning Zhou looked at him coldly, his originally blue eyes filling with a thin layer of red mist.

"This kind of power is very interesting, but I still like fighting with real knives and guns." The passerby shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, this sword of yours is so lame that it’s totally unworthy of you."

Ning Zhou didn't listen to him, and the terrifying force of destruction was washing over his consciousness. He tried his best to fight against this force that was about to devour his reason.

"Oh, that guy has matured, your friend is in danger." The passerby’s line of sight crossed Ning Zhou's shoulder and looked at the huge mass of meat that was moving down. It supported its body with tentacles full of lesions, slowly crawled out of the black mist, and climbed down from the altar, while the huge tentacles wrapped in mucus devoured bodies in a pool of blood all the way, even those who had not yet died.

Amid the screams and groans, out of the black mist, the monster exposed its true appearance—a giant monster that looked as if it was comprised of worms and clumps of rotten meat, with festering tentacles covered with rotting tumors, emitting a strong smell of rotten meat. And in the middle of the meat, there is a black gap, and deep red eyeballs could be seen faintly in the gap.

Qi Leren, who had fallen into a state of mental disorder because he witnessed the mysterious eyeball in the sky, was unaware of the approaching tentacles. He lied in the pool of blood and stared blankly at the void above his head.

The tentacles were getting closer and closer. They had climbed the steps and come to him, and in that the next second they would roll him up and devour him!

Suddenly, a cold murderous aura passed through the air, and the almost condensed wave of destruction fiercely washed over the tentacles that were ready to eat, and instantly twisted the tentacles near Qi Leren into a pile of minced meat!

Ning Zhou, a few tens of meters away, slowly lowered the hand that had struck out his sword, closed his eyes, and calmed down the extraordinarily strong will to destroy just now, and then stepped on the blood and walked towards the monster that swelled to the point of crushing the altar.

The mysterious sacrifice who claimed to be just a passerby leaned against a column holding his arm, his tangdao stuck in the ground. It was rare that he didn't actively challenge his opponent.

It wasn’t that he didn't want to, or that he couldn’t fight. At the sight of this man, he was sure that he had touched a certain law and he held himself back under the influence of this law. He had only sensed the power of this certain law in the less than three months since he entered the world, and even he was very unskilled in using that power.

However, it was strange that this was clearly a righteous person, yet the strength in his body was so horrible. He could have been stronger if he hadn't been struggling to suppress this force, but for some reason, he tried to maintain his crumbling rationality and refused to be a slave to it.

The passerby appreciated the man's fighting ability, with his flowing movements that were incredibly smooth. In the real world, it was almost impossible to see a warrior who had experienced rigorous training since childhood. His outward strength cooperated with his movements and easily strangled the monster’s tentacles one by one, and he even set foot on the steps of the altar, moving closer to the monster’s body lying on the steps.

The man became a devil. The passerby saw his glowing red eyes and scales gradually covering his skin. However, this demonization seemed to fill him with pain. He had to stop and stand at the column beside the altar steps, breathing while trying to suppress this demonization process.

Taking advantage of the enemy's inattention, this unknown monster was recovering quickly. The remaining broken limbs were healing, and the next round of attack was eagerly brewing.

Ning Zhou didn't give it much time. He barely controlled the strength in his body. He once again raised the Sword of Judgement that was completely contrary to his force. This sword belonging to Maria's protective force and the force of destruction in his body were like fated enemies, but they were intertwined and used like self-abuse.

The losing monster retreated, its tentacles contracted in waves, and it seemed to be afraid of the awakening Devil King. But suddenly, the eyeball floating in the void emitted a scarlet light that centered on the monster's body. That huge piece of meat closed its eyes as if it was inspired by some kind of power, then opened its eyes—

The whole temple suddenly lost its color, as if only the colours black, white, and gray were left between heaven and earth, and the tremendous force or order fell from the sky like a huge mountain, which was heavily pressed on the top of everyone's head.

The passerby looked up and gave an impatient “tsk.”

This was another powerful person, stronger than this demonized man, and was possibly the one who had brought him into the Nightmare World and then irresponsibly discarded him. This kind of person who held a "field" was already regarded as "God" to some extent. And now, he was just a mortal looking forward to the opportunity to kill God.

The demonized man suddenly revealed his original form amid the sudden force—black dragon wings erupted from his back, the huge wings covered his rapidly changing body, scales covered his skin, and sharp talons grew from his fingertips. In less than a minute, he had turned into a black dragon and let out an angry roar against the powerful oppression above them.

That roar pierced through space, causing the courtyard filled with the gentle light of dawn to echo with it.

The woman who was sipping black tea gave a faint "hmm" and smiled: "Is this the force of destruction? It seems that he’s not far from becoming a devil."

"Do you want to get rid of him?" Su He, who looked particularly eye-catching in the light of the Village of Dawn, asked with a smile.

The petite Devil of Power took a sip of black tea and shook her head: "No, let him be. Since Slaughter has been dealt with, there is just one candidate missing to open the Devil King’s coronation ceremony. Let him take this place for the time being."

"Be careful when raising tigers," Su He laughed.

"The time isn’t right yet. Instead of worrying about him, think about the one in the Village of Dawn. He’s the one who will cause us trouble." The Devil of Power sighed lightly. "You know him well. Tell me, do you have any ideas?"

Su He propped up his chin and looked out at the sun rising between the floating mountains, showing a gentle smile: "Don't worry, it's already ready. It won't keep you waiting for long."

"With you handling affairs, I’ve always been at ease. However, the goldfish is still paying more attention. Since Slaughter left, the goldfish bowl has become more and more unstable. If it really lets its body escape... you know the consequences," the Devil of Power said lightly.

"When you’re officially crowned as the Devil King and let Utopia devour the demon world, this will not be a problem," Su He said.

The Devil of Power smiled, and the ambition of power shone in her eyes, making her radiant: "I yearn for that day more than anyone else."

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Editor’s Notes:

Did anyone guess right? :) The “passerby” Lu Ren is one of the main characters from BMBL’s previous trilogy The Easter Egg Game, which is set in the same universe as WTNG. I really recommend reading it if you haven’t yet, the ongoing translation can be found [here].

Also a couple things that I’m pretty sure BMBL used as inspiration for these last few chapters, but that I don’t believe she mentions in A/Ns: The fluorescent algae in the underground lake (later retconned to jellyfish) is a real thing and it’s very pretty, pics [here] and [here]. As well, the temple seems to be based off the Pantheon in Rome, which is famous for the “oculus” (eye) at the center of its dome, pic [here].

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

An Artful Revenge Pt. 1

First part of The Archeron Damnation series.

~Rhysand~

Have you ever had everything you’ve ever wanted dropped in your lap like a present?

It makes it so easy you almost don’t even want it anymore.

Before today, this had never happened to me. For over thirty years, I’ve worked and fought and killed for everything I’ve wanted. Nothing about my life has been easy.

Until today.

Until a young, beautiful woman paused to look at a piece of art, oblivious to the monster who stood behind her.

As soon as I looked up and saw her, I felt like an anvil fell on my chest and robbed me of air. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

For the first time in my long, miserable life, I was utterly speechless as Feyre Archeron tilted her head contemplatively, as if the slab of paint was something that required great concentration.

Her focus was so singular it gave me more than enough time to figure out what I wanted to do.

But I couldn’t concentrate enough to even do that. Not yet. For now, I just took her in. Photos didn’t do her justice, honestly. Sandy blonde hair, a slight frame more than pleasing to look at from the back, defined cheekbones, full lips. Beautiful.

It was almost unfair for someone like her to be so beautiful.

She had a hand on her chest and was completely still as she looked at the work in front of her, like she almost couldn’t stand the rush of emotions it gave her.

I understood the feeling.

My friends often tell me I should go on the road as a mind reader or fortune teller or some other bullshit. The point is, I’m pretty decent at reading people.

And just from the way the woman in front of me is looking at an overpriced, ugly piece of art, I know she’s innocent.

She has no idea who she used to share a bed with, no idea what kind of evil she invited into her life with a smile.

I also know I can’t let it change things in the slightest. Innocent or not, beautiful or not, I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to worm my way into her life and turn it fucking upside down.

And she’s just handed it to me on a silver platter.

I’ve been looking for her, and I’ve finally found her.

She’s mine.

~Feyre~

“You like it?”

Gasping and pressing my hand harder against my chest to calm my racing heart, I spin around to face whoever just asked such an obvious question.

And the first thing I can think is, He’s more beautiful than the painting.

The stranger’s casually leaning against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets, confidence and wealth and class draped over him like a very impressive, very handsome mask.

He’s concealed in a jet black suit, but somehow I can tell he’s impressively built; it’s like strength and power are radiating off of him. His face probably took the gods years to craft, the sharp angles of his jaw and slash of his brows perfectly creating the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen.

Dark hair, piercing violet eyes that scan me head to toe, and smirking, sensual lips complete his features.

He’s the most attractive male I’ve ever seen. And I’m an art major who frequently finds herself painting models, so that’s saying something.

“You like it,” he states, whatever he finds on my face taking away the need for a question mark.

“I do,” I confirm, forcing myself to turn back to the painting and stop gawking like an idiot.

He surprises me by asking openly, “Why?”

The painting in question is one of the most revered paintings in the world: Dancers in Blue by Degas. But he’s asking in a way that makes it clear he genuinely doesn’t know why people pay to look at it.

Running my hand through my hair, I try and put it into words. “There’s just so much... energy in it. The background’s nothing but a bunch of paint splatters, and yet you can feel it almost. The dancer’s excitement, the energy of the crowd. It’s breathtaking.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I cringe inwardly, thinking of how weird that probably sounded.

Then, “Would you like it?”

Only four words and they almost knock me on my ass. I spin back around so fast he chuckles, eyes wide, and sputter, “Would I what?”

I mean, it’s clear he’s rich, but there’s rich, and then there’s buying a Degas rich.

“I was planning on buying it anyway. It should belong to someone who loves it as much as you obviously do.”

“What?” I repeat, still not understanding why he would offer something like that to a total stranger.

“I presumed you to be intelligent, but if you keep asking that question, I might have to amend that.”

I narrow my eyes, somehow intelligent enough to pick up on the insult. “I’m just confused. I mean, you look rich and all, but that painting’s worth $45 million dollars. And you just asked...”

“If you want it.”

Putting my hands on my hips, I regard him speculatively. “Which psych ward did you break out of, exactly?”

He smiles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can accept the painting and stare at it from home, or I can buy it and hang it with the other one and never give it a second thought.”

My mind can’t stop running, and I think if I wasn’t determined to not completely embarrass myself, I’d collapse to the ground and sob at the impobability of this situation. “What do you mean the other one? You already have a Degas?”

“The pink one,” he confirms casually, flicking a nonexistent fleck of dust off his jacket.

“You have Dancers in Pink?” He nods, lips twitching at the look on my face. “And why, exactly, are you buying priceless pieces of art if you don’t like them?”

“It’s not priceless. You just told me it’s worth $45 million.” I scowl at the non-answer, and he shrugs. “Someone I don’t care for likes them.”

I connect the dots slowly. “So you buy them so he can’t.”

He nods.

My mouth falls open, making him smile again. It’s dangerously attractive and distracting, but I still demand, “Who the fuck are you?”

The stranger laughs outright at that, strolling forward and offering me a tan, tattooed hand with practiced ease. I notice there’s a platinum, engraved ring on his pointer finger, and I stare at it for a moment because it looks strangely familiar.

He seems to pause as I look at it, holding his breath. I’m probably acting like a total weirdo, so I snap out of it and take his hand.

Because he’s rich and confident and beautiful, he feels entitled to drag his calloused thumb across the back of my hand.

And because I’m poor and stupid and at the end of the day, just a woman, I blush. Which only gets worse as he notices and smirks.

“My name is Rhysand.”

“Rhysand what, exactly? Rockefeller? Vanderbilt? Carnegie?” I run out of rich families and fall silent, and he gives me a look like I’m the most amusing thing he’s ever come across.

“Rhysand Azara. When you google me, you won’t find anything of consequence, I’m afraid.”

The way he says when instead of if makes me blush again, because I’d been waiting for him to leave so I could pull out my cracked, struggling little phone and do exactly that.

He looks at me expectantly, and I realize I haven’t said a word, just held onto his hand like a toddler being led across the street. “Oh, I’m Feyre.”

Rhysand just raises an eyebrow.

“Feyre Archeron.”

“And what would I find if I were going to google your name?”

I notice his statement has an if, but I answer anyway, stating facts nervously like an army cadet reporting for duty. “I’m an art major at UChicago. From Missouri.”

“What else?”

“There’s really not much else.”

He tsks, telling me this answer is unacceptable, but doesn’t press it. Instead he shocks the hell out of me once again. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

It isn’t a question, but it isn’t quite a demand, either. It’s a statement, and it’s said like he already knows what my response is going to be.

But like I just told him, I’m a college student.

Which means for the past three years, I’ve been dealing with college boys.

I’ve been asked to “hang,” “smash,” and even to go to coffee on a few rare, wonderful instances. But never, in my entire life, have I been asked---or told--to go to dinner by someone like him.

I realize it’s because I’ve never met anyone like him.

Even my ex-boyfriend, who’d been well off and older, was nothing like him. Compared to the man in front of me, everyone else seemed... juvenile.

They were boys, toddlers even, compared to the man still gripping my hand.

It prompts me to ask, “How old are you?”

He smiles. “Too old for you, I’m sure. Have dinner with me anyway. For the sake of the painting.”

I’m halfway sure I’m in the middle of a fever dream, about to wake up covered in sweat and wondering what the hell just happened, because this cannot be real.

“You’re... are you actually... you’re offering to give me a $45 million painting if I have dinner with you?” I sound incredulous and wheezy to my own ears, but I don’t even care.

Who the hell is this guy?

“You’ll be my second most expensive date.”

“You’re insane.” I look down to where he still holds my hand, entire focus narrowing on the strength in his grip. How would it feel to have him grip me somewhere else? Rhysand gives me a look like he knows what I’m thinking, so I look at the ceiling. Then declare, “I can’t have dinner with you.”

It almost hurt to say it, honestly, because I really love that painting.

He waits until I look back down at his face before asking, “Why not?”

Blushing to high hell, I murmur, “It feels a little like... prostitution.”

Rhysand throws his head back and laughs, a full, wonderful sound I hadn’t been expecting. It’s easy and contagious, and I find myself grinning, even though what I said was true.

“Dinner, gorgeous, was the deal.” He leans in close and whispers, “You coming home with me won’t have anything to do with it.”

I push him away, mind set on giving myself a few feet away from him to compose myself, but I’m so dizzy and confused and strangely turned on I almost fall. His hands shoot out, landing on the bare skin of my shoulders, and I pause.

And really, really contemplate my life.

Yesterday I was sitting on the floor of my dusty apartment in my underwear, eating Ramen and struggling to figure out what the fuck to put in the background of my painting. Today I’m being asked to dinner by a probable-billionaire. On the condition I accept a very expensive form of bribery.

“I’m not going home with you, but I’ll have dinner with you.” He starts to smile, so I cut him off, “Only if you promise to not buy the painting.”

His brows narrow, a silent demand for information.

“I come here almost every day to see it anyway,” I explain. “Besides, there’s no way I can accept it. It’ll get stolen or damaged or... I just can’t accept it. And the thought of you putting it in some forgotten hallway depresses me.”

He sighs dramatically and re-puts his hand out. “No painting. Just dinner.”

“And no sex.”

A very male look crosses his features. “We’ll discuss that later, I think.”

I roll my eyes but shake hands with him, a strange sense of finality settling over me. I shake it off, telling myself the bare mention of having sex with him is why I’m so nervous.

Four hours later, I stand at the door, purse clutched in one hand, keys in the other. I’m staring at the door, practically foaming at the mouth, waiting for a knock on the other side to hopefully shock me out of my crazed state.

I’ve been like this for ten minutes already, for some reason not wanting him to wait for a second after he got here. Or maybe I just don’t think he’s actually coming.

Maybe I’ve been on some horrible practical jokes show, and Rhysand Azara isn’t even a real person. I’ll probably end up on television, blushing and beyond naïve, having been convinced a man who looked like a male model wanted to buy me a Degas.

I snort, shaking my head at myself. And then almost fall down when a soft yet somehow insistent knock sounds through my small apartment.

“Holy fuck, he’s here.”

I have no idea why I state it aloud, to myself no less, but I feel like it should be said. Hell, it should be written down in history books. If I kept a diary, I’d write in bold, underlined letters: I HAVE A DATE WITH A VERY STRANGE, VERY HANDSOME MAN.

After fluffing my hair and checking my makeup in a mirror, I stop stalling and open the door.

He, of course, looks like sex on a goddamn spoon. And for a split second--just a moment, I swear--I debate grabbing him by his expensive lapels, dragging him backward into my apartment, and finding out what his mouth feels like against mine.

“Feyre,” he greets, snapping me out of my perverted daydream. “You look beautiful.”

I know it’s dumb to be flattered, because it’s fairly standard to tell a girl she looks nice when you pick her up for a date, but it does my ego no harm because how I look right now took some fucking work.

I shaved from the eyebrows down, exfoliated, scrubbed, cleansed, plucked, and spent thirty minutes deciding what to wear.

I’d taken a gamble he’d wear a suit and dressed to match in a black dress, unremarkable save for the very low back, and simple heels.

I step outside with him, grateful for the warm weather, and turn to lock the door.

Rhysand makes a humming sound, and I freeze as I feel a finger drag down my spine, stopping right at the edge of the fabric. Which happens to be very, very close to something indecent.

“Beautiful,” he states again, and hell if I don’t feel like it.

I finally manage to get the lock closed, then spin around to face him. Up close, there’s silver flecks in his eyes, like starlight. Oh, and he smells amazing. Something manly and wintery and not sold in a bottle.

I. Am in. So much. Trouble.

I have no idea why this man has taken an interest in me, but I know it can only end in one way: me in love, him long gone.

But even though I know it, I’m ready. Five minutes with him makes me feel more alive than I ever have, and even though it’s a disaster in the making, I can’t bring myself to care.

He offers his hand and pulls me towards a--surprise--black car, one that looks expensive. After depositing me in the passenger seat, he goes around and climbs in beside me.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m making a guess about something.”

I glance over at him. “Have you ever realized you don’t give actual answers?”

"Yes,” he responds with a grin, turning the stereo on.

Twenty minutes later, I’m practically bursting at the seems to know where he’s taking me.

What kind of guess is he making? Also, what does that even mean?

He pulls up in front of a nice looking place I’ve never been to--again, surprise--and comes around to open my door. Despite the crowd, as soon as the hostess sees the man leading me through the restaurant, we’re ushered into the back.

Turns out the place has private rooms. It’s quiet and cozy, and I’m pretty sure only the president gets this kind of treatment.

Once I’m seated across from him, menu in hand, I have to ask, “Was your guess correct?”

“I don’t know, do you like French food?”

I smile because j’adore French food, and he grins back because he somehow knew that already.

The waiter comes to ask for our drink order, and I gesture at Rhysand for him to order mine. I know nothing about wine, and he obviously does, because he orders something fancy and expensive sounding.

There’s soft music playing in the background, candles in the corner, and a handsome man sitting across from me. It’s the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in, hands down.

He braces an arm on the table, watching as I take a small sip of the wine. Trying to maintain some sort of maturity, I say, “You have good taste.”

“I do,” he replies, but his eyes are on me, not the wine. “Are you almost done with school?”

“One more year,” I answer, trying not to cheer as I say it. Four years of education for an art major is kind of ridiculous to me, but it would’ve been stupid to turn down a full scholarship.

Rhysand hums, nodding. Even though he asked, I somehow feel like he already knew that. Weird.

“Did you go to college?”

He gives me a strange look. “My formal education stopped around seventh grade.”

It’s an effort to keep my jaw off the table, and I’m proud of myself when I say mildly, “Impressive.”

“Being uneducated impresses you?”

I scowl. “No, but having everything you do despite not being handed anything is.”

His face stays impassive, but there’s a twinkle of respect in his eyes. The waiter comes back and asks what we want to eat, and because the menu I’ve barely even looked at is in French, I get the same thing as Rhysand.

When we’re alone again, I ask, “Okay, spill. How’d you know I love French food?”

Rhysand shrugs. “I’m good at reading people.”

I wave a hand, because that wasn’t answer enough, and he continues on a sigh. “You’re kind of... easy to read. No offense.”

“Interesting you say ‘No offense’ after calling a woman easy,” I note.

He laughs, but points out, “You’re not easy. I offer to buy you a Degas and you won’t even come home with me.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “Once again, you haven’t answered my question.”

There’s a long beat of silence. “You like French food because you like Impressionist art, and both Degas and Monet were French. Your dream vacation also happens to be Paris, and eating French food makes you feel closer to that goal.”

My mouth drops open, and he laughs soundly at the blatant display of shock, but before I can ask how the hell he knew that, the waiter comes with our food. Identical displays of delicious-smelling pasta are set in front of us.

I reach for my fork, but he grabs our plates and switches them.

When I raise a brow, he shrugs and says, “In case you were thinking about poisoning me.”

I snort in a very ladylike manner, tucking into my food. A soft moan escapes me, and he looks up at me, bite halfway between his plate and mouth.

“Uh, sorry,” I murmur, blushing down the neckline of my dress.

Rhysand just smiles, making me feel young once again. “Don’t be. I quite enjoy the sound of a pleasured woman.”

Rolling my eyes, I take another bite, managing to refrain from sounding too pleasured. “So, Paris. How’d you know?”

He doesn’t really give me an answer, just says, “I bet you have a little Eifel Tower trinket on your desk and everything.”

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of me, because I do. I totally do. I’ve had it for three years and look at it every time I’m tempted to drop out.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask, trying to get us back on even ground. I feel like he somehow knows everything about me, and even though I’ll have to ask questions, I’m finding out at least one thing about him.

“I’m in real estate.”

I nod, ready to just accept that answer. Then I look around us, remembering how crowded the restaurant was, and start giggling. “You own this restaurant, don’t you?”

A sigh. Busted. “Yes, I do.”

I tsk and give him a judgmental look. “You can’t take me somewhere you own for a date. That’s cheating.”

He takes a sip of his wine. “How so?”

“It just is.” I sigh, just to tease him. “Shame. I was feeling so romanticized, maybe enough so to go home with you. Not anymore, though.”

He rolls his eyes, the gesture making him younger. “Eat your food.”

I do, and by the end, I’m so full I probably look pregnant. “Holy fuck, that was good.”

Rhysand smiles, like it’s adorable that I cursed, and pushes back his empty plate. “Dessert?” I shake my head. “Coffee?”

“I’m so full I might die.”

Rising with fluid grace, he extends a hand. “Then come with me.”

Not bothering to ask questions at this point, I just take his hand and follow him out, noticing the city has a slight chill now that the sun’s gone down.

“Why is it women can never plan for the sun going down?” he ponders, wrapping me in his suit jacket.

“It’s a test to see if you’ll let us freeze to death.”

Rhysand chuckles and slides his hand into mine, so casually and simply it seems like a mundane thing we do every day.

I know I’ve known him for a total of five hours, but everything about today has been... easy. Natural. It’s like we just click, and I’m not stupid enough to question it right now.

“You’re quite the gentleman,” I remark, bringing up our intertwined fingers to look at the tattoos on his skin. He’s silent for a minute, and when I glance over, he’s looking at the ground as we walk, a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You’re probably the only person in this entire world who believes that.”

I scoff, because the idea that the man next to me, holding my hand and running his thumb across my fingers, is anything but a gentleman is absurd.

“What other paintings do you have?”

It’s a question I’ve been dying to ask since he mention his other Degas.

“It’s a shame you’re determined to not go home with me. You could see them yourself.”

I drop his hand and shove his shoulder, my lips twitching as he laughs. “You asshole. You’re leveraging access to a private collection for sex? Men are horrible.”

Rhysand chuckles, throwing an arm around me and pulling me close. “I have a Monet,” he whispers in my ear, placing a featherlight kiss to my temple. “And a Rembrandt.”

“I hate you.”

He releases me and grabs my hand again, then pulls me toward a dark alley I hadn’t noticed he’d been guiding me toward. “Um... where are you taking me?”

He, of course, doesn’t tell me. No, he shushes me.

“I will not be quiet while you drag me down some seedy alley!” I’m beginning to panic a bit, because besides spending way too much time alone, I like to watch Law and Order, and this is turning into the beginning of a familiar episode.

“Is this because I said I won’t have sex with you tonight?” Before he can respond, I blurt, “Because I probably will at some point, I’m just kind of nervous-”

“I’m not going to murder you, Feyre darling.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Pouting like a sullen child, I shut my mouth and accept my fate. He tugs me further down the black alley, and eventually I can’t even see. Can he? Is he some sort of vampire? Am I really asking myself that?

The glow of his phone illuminates the dark for a second, and I catch the time 11:59. “One more minute.”

“Until...?”

He’s silent for thirty-eight seconds, then he says, “Until this.”

Suddenly, the space above us lights up, colors shooting all around us in a kaleidoscope of reds and blues and greens.

Gasping, I look up to see the air above us full of glass lanterns, the surfaces painted with swirling black paint. The alley is covered wall to wall, and the end result gives the walls around us beautiful designs and dimension.

I laugh in surprise, twirling around to take in the entire place. “What is this?”

“We’re in the artist’s quadrant of the city. I don’t know why, but they do this every night, exactly at midnight.”

I spin around in a circle, arms out, smiling from ear to ear. He watches with a grin, leaning against one of the walls casually. I walk down the alley, eyes up, taking in everything.

It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.

The lanterns are each unique, like they were done by different people. Some are solid colors, others are mixtures.

I look back over at Rhysand, beams of red and blue and pink bouncing off his face, a smile playing at his full lips. It’s obvious he took me here because he knew I’d love it, and it makes me feel insanely special.

Still giddy with happiness, I bound over to him, put my hands on either side of his face, and press my lips to his.

For a second, we probably look like idiots, just standing there pressing our smiles together.

Then, like we’re in synch, the smiles fall away and we start to actually kiss.

His hands slip inside the jacket, linking at the small of my back and pulling me closer to him. He’s still leaning against the wall, back against the brick, and I put my hands on his chest, fingers digging into the corded muscle I find there.

Rhysand pulls back for a minute, traces his fingers over my face lightly. He looks so surprised and confused, I’m tempted to ask what’s wrong. But then his mouth is back on mine, moving more fervently, and I forget all about it.

His hands cup my jaw, tilting my face to where he wants it, then slide in my hair.

He tastes like honey and citrus, and I slide my tongue in his mouth, desperate for more. I moan at the taste of him, and he suddenly moves, like the sound unleashed something in him.

One hand grabs the back of my thigh, the other wrapping around my waist, and then I’m the one against the wall. The brick digs into my shoulder blades, but I hardly even notice, because he wraps my leg around his hips and presses us together.

His mouth is sliding down my jaw, sucking on the spot between my neck and shoulder softly. I make a low sound, slip my hands in his hair, and prepare to eat him alive.

And then the world goes dark.

The lanterns above us turn off, casting us in darkness, but we don’t stop for a few minutes. When we’re both breathless, he pulls away with a low chuckle and releases my leg.

I slide down him slowly, leaning against the wall for support.

What the hell was that?

Did I really just make out with a complete stranger in an alley?

The answer to that question--and the one of if I’d do it again--is hell yes.

He runs a hand over his lips, almost in disbelief, then takes a healthy step back and holds out a hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

I take another look at the disheveled hair, swollen lips, rumpled shirt. And I know without a doubt that if he were on my doorstep, looking at me with those bedroom eyes, I’d pull him inside without a thought.

“I think I should take a cab.”

Rhysand smiles, knowing exactly why. “I’m flattered.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, pushing him away and starting back toward the busier street.

Even though the street’s deserted, he manages to hail a cab easily, the bright yellow car slowing to a stop next to us. I open the back door, kiss his cheek, and slip inside. “Thank you for dinner. Even though you cheated.”

He rolls his eyes and shuts the door behind me. “I’ll call you.”

I nod, feeling a little ridiculous for how happy that statement makes me. Tonight was... like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It was just dinner, I remind myself, but it doesn’t do any good.

It feels like the beginning of something.

The cab driver glances at me in the rearview mirror and laughs. “That good, huh?”

I don’t even respond because yeah. That good.

I’m halfway home before I realize I never even gave him my number. And I honestly wonder if I’ll ever see Rhysand Azara again.

_________________________________________________

Part 2

@elorcan-trash @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @bamchickawowow @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#feysand #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acotar fanfiction #feysand fanfiction #rhysand

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melanielocke · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 13

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

Cordelia and Lucie carried the Lightwood’s bag of groceries with them as they walked back to the manor. Sophie had promised she would cook for everyone, as Cordelia and Lucie had to be exhausted after such a day, and Gideon had promised they would all have a free evening and wouldn’t need to help beyond carrying the groceries.

Cordelia wasn’t sure free evenings existed though, not with everything going on. A werewolf of all things. Her father had killed one once. It had been one of Cordelia’s favorite stories, of the werewolf in the forest in Dartmoor. But as far as she knew werewolves were extremely rare nowadays. She wondered who the beast had been before. Werewolves were born human. Those kind of creatures had always seemed the scariest to her, those who had been human once. Some transformed out of their own free will, sometimes it was a cruel joke by another entity. No one knew exactly why Benedict Lightwood had turned into a giant worm either, though they all suspected it was a part repaying his debt, something he must not have anticipated. It made Cordelia wonder, had he willingly signed over the life of his wife, her soul even? And his grandson too? Or had that been an accident? Cordelia wasn’t sure if it could have been accidental.

Perhaps a grandson had been abstract at the time, like the fairytales of someone offering up a firstborn, because he didn’t have any grandchildren when he offered one’s life. Benedict died before Gideon and Sophie had had their first child. But a wife?

Lucie was still holding the dagger Cordelia had given her. She’d clutched at it, and Cordelia hoped she would have stabbed the wolf had it come too close, but it wasn’t silver. It wouldn’t have worked. Still, Cordelia was far more comfortable with Lucie carrying a dagger over nothing. She would have to ask Alastair though. Considering the emergency, Cordelia had figured she could borrow it, but Alastair wouldn’t appreciate Lucie holding onto his dagger without asking him. He could be possessive of his collection, and would probably have his own ideas of which one he was willing to lend to Lucie.

They entered the manor and delivered the food to the kitchen, where Tessa had started cutting up some onions and garlic.

‘Hey there Jessamine,’ Lucie said.

She listened for a while. Cordelia found it frustrating sometimes, to be present for Lucie’s conversations with ghosts while missing half the conversation. Her eyes lit up.

‘I knew it,’ she said. ‘No, it isn’t scandalous. This is the twenty first century, Jess.’

Cordelia wondered what Jessamine thought was scandalous but her question was answered when the two of them entered the living room. Alastair, shirtless and his shoulder bandaged, was sitting in Thomas’ lap, the two of them locked in a passionate embrace.

She cleared her throat, to make their presence known and Thomas quickly let go of Alastair, who wrapped the Lilo and Stitch blanket around himself again to hide his bare chest. Cordelia was just going to assume he was shirtless because of his injury. His shoulder was bandaged, at least, and Cordelia didn’t think her brother was the type to start taking his clothes off somewhere other people might come in.

Lucie entered the living room, a smile on her face. ‘I knew this would work out. You can thank me now.’

Alastair frowned. ‘For what?’

‘Thomas was far too scared to ask you to spend time with him, so I figured I’d give him no other choice,’ Lucie explained.

Thomas turned a deep shade of red. He blushed a lot, Cordelia noticed, and often when he was in Alastair’s presence. She wondered how she’d missed his affection. It was obvious now.

‘Yes, that’s true,’ Thomas admitted. ‘Thank you for your encouragement, Lu.’

‘There’s blood on your skirt,’ Alastair told Lucie. ‘Perhaps you should wash it before you can’t remove the stain anymore.’

Lucie looked horrified at her own skirt and disappeared upstairs. Alastair leaned back into Thomas, wincing in pain. His shoulder had to hurt, right? Cordelia suspected he was downplaying the injury, but he seemed at peace so close to Thomas.

Another pair of footsteps entered the living room. Gideon and Sophie both stared at their son, who was sitting too close to Alastair for it to be considered friendly. Thomas smiled awkwardly, both his cheeks and ears a bright red.

‘Oh, hey. I’d been meaning to tell you, but I’m gay.’

Gideon walked over to his son, and pulled him into a hug. This kind of affection from a father to his son still surprised Cordelia, and she realized her father had never been like that. At times he could be affectionate, more so than Alastair or her mother who both struggled with showing people how they felt, but it had always been about him and what he needed from her. Her father had never been like Gideon was now, gentle and caring, reassuring his son that he loved him.

‘I’m so proud of you. Make him happy, alright?’

Cordelia knew Alastair had been spending a lot of time with Gideon lately, mostly for the memories, but from what Gideon said, Cordelia suspected he cared about Alastair as well. Had Alastair opened up to him a bit? She hoped so. She knew Alastair struggled opening up to her, she knew he still had this idea that he needed to protect her from their father, that telling her just how much he’d broken Alastair’s heart would break hers too. Perhaps with Gideon, he had an adult he could trust. Someone, who perhaps, understood his situation a bit better than most.

Cordelia walked over to her brother. He looked adorable, wrapped up in the Lilo and Stitch blanket, innocent and peaceful in a way she hadn’t seen him in a long time.

‘I’m so happy for you, dâdâsh,’ she said.

‘Thank you,’ Alastair said.

‘How is your shoulder?’

‘The painkillers work decently. Tessa thinks I should get a rabies shot soon. Do werewolves have rabies? You can’t become a werewolf from scratches, can you?’

‘No, nor do bites transform people despite popular myth,’ Cordelia said. ‘You’re going to be fine. I’m not so sure about rabies, getting a shot couldn’t hurt.’ She paused. ‘You’re not scared of needles right?’

‘No, it’s more that I am currently unmotivated to get up from this couch, much less travel to a hospital. Besides, Tessa used to be an ER doctor, she knows what she’s doing.’

Alastair grabbed his shirt from the ground. It was bloody and torn and Cordelia didn’t think putting it back on was a good idea. ‘I can’t really wear this, can I?’

‘I can get you something else if you want,’ Cordelia said.

She wasn’t sure Alastair would allow her into his bedroom when he wasn’t there. Sharing a room the past month at Risa’s apartment had been difficult for both of them considering how obsessively he kept everything neat and clean. Not to mention Alastair’s frequent nightmares which kept her up too, and the general lack of personal space. Cordelia wasn’t yet sure what they would do after the summer.

‘Sure. Shirts are on the left side of the closet. Just pick the one on top.’

Cordelia followed his instructions, careful not to disturb anything. The past month while sharing a room they’d fought over made up beds (Cordelia didn’t see the point, at night she’d be sleeping there anyway), cookie crumbs on the floor (Alastair had ultimately forbidden her from eating in the bedroom, admittedly he had a point there) and Alastair losing his stuffed hedgehog (it had fallen under his bed but he’d been convinced she’d touched it). She loved her brother but she hoped she’d never have to share a bedroom with him again.

She found a shirt, a black short sleeved blouse, and figured it would do. Most of Alastair’s wardrobe was black, with some brown, dark purple and grey here and there. She returned downstairs and handed Alastair the shirt. He put it on, and retreated back underneath the Lilo and Stitch blanket, cuddled close against Thomas.

‘You look very cute,’ Cordelia told her brother.

Alastair made an annoyed sound.

‘It’s true,’ she added. ‘I should get you a nice Disney themed blanket for your birthday.’

Dinner was a bit uncomfortable. Lucie’s and Thomas’ parents were both upset, even if it wasn’t their fault the woods were playing tricks on them. What was going on there? Cordelia had been there just in time to rescue them from that werewolf. Was it there because of Thomas?

‘I don’t think you two should be going for walks into the woods again,’ Gideon said.

Cordelia agreed with him, but it worried her too. Alastair had a habit of taking long walks as a coping method, it was something he’d done for several years and helped him calm down. She wasn’t sure what feeling trapped would do to him. She would keep a close eye on him. She knew Alastair didn’t always know what to do with her protecting him, he was so used to being the older brother, to keeping her safe at all times. It was her turn to protect him now, and she would.

Lucie came downstairs a little late for dinner, announcing she’d gotten the stain out her skirt but it was drying now. She had changed into a purple summer dress with a tie around her waist and a wide, flowy skirt reaching just above her knees. She looked beautiful. Lucie had a fondness for dresses, she claimed they were more comfortable and she hated the feeling of tight jeans.

Cordelia had also seen her in oversized sweatshirts that she must have stolen from Thomas considering how big they were. Lucie managed to make even that work. Some people were lucky, she guessed, and could look good in anything. Cordelia always struggled to find clothes she liked on her body and that fit her well. She’d never been the type to steal hoodies from her brother or male friends. Not only would Alastair not appreciate her stealing his clothes, but she’d just feel ridiculous. Cordelia preferred to have her clothes tied in at the waist, emphasizing her shape, without it being too revealing. Oversized shirts made her feel huge whereas more fitted clothes often weren’t made to fit her body type or drew more attention to her chest than she liked. After years of either being overly sexualized for her big breasts and wide hips or shamed for being bigger than other girls her age, Cordelia was still trying to find out what clothes would make her feel comfortable in her body again.

‘That goes for you too, Lucie, no more walks in the woods,’ Will said when Lucie sat down and started eating.

‘Wasn’t planning to,’ Lucie said with a mouth full of pasta.

‘I’m not sure staying out of the woods is going to help us,’ Alastair said. ‘We know it’s worse there, but we can’t run. So while I agree we shouldn’t run towards danger unprepared, simply staying here won’t do anything either.’

‘You’re right, Alastair,’ Gideon said. ‘If you don’t mind, I think we should go over what you saw today. Tomorrow, maybe. I think it may point us towards the creature we seek. I called my brother several days ago, and he is doing his own research.’

‘Does he remember anything you don’t?’ Thomas asked. ‘Uncle Gabriel stayed with his father longer than you did, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, but I have been unable to reach him the past few days. It is not unlike Gabriel to not answer his phone for several days, but I am starting to worry.’

After dinner, Thomas, Lucie and Alastair chose to play a video game. Alastair was terrible at it, just like Cordelia, and gave up after a few rounds of Mario Kart, instead going upstairs to his bedroom after kissing Thomas one more time. Alastair had always been a bit of a sore loser, she hadn’t expected him to last that long at the game. Cordelia went after him, hoping they could talk.

‘I’m sorry for taking this dagger without asking,’ Cordelia said, returning the dagger she’d given Lucie. ‘I figured it would be best she had something to defend herself with.’

Alastair tilted his head, taking the dagger back. ‘I understand. But I’m glad this one didn’t get dirty, I am rather fond of it.’

He retreated into his bedroom, and Cordelia waited at the entrance. This was his private space and Alastair didn’t always like it when she entered unannounced. ‘You can come in.’

Cordelia entered Alastair’s bedroom. It hardly looked like anyone was living there, she thought. Where he found the time and the motivation to keep everything so neat, she couldn’t imagine. She sat down in the armchair.

Alastair handed her another dagger. ‘You can give this one to Lucie. It was a gift from Charles. I never knew what to do with it.’

Cordelia imagined he didn’t want to keep such bad memories around, even if it was a beautiful dagger, decorated with small gemstones. She suspected this dagger must have been expensive, but then Charles was rich and he used to have a habit of buying Alastair expensive gifts. She suspected it was another manipulation tactic, by giving Alastair things he liked but could never afford himself he made Alastair feel like he owed Charles something. Perhaps it also made him feel loved and special, to receive something like that.

‘I considered giving it back after we broke up,’ Alastair added. ‘But then I’d have to face him. And this dagger is far too beautiful for him.’

Cordelia laughed. Alastair was right, of course, the dagger was beautiful and Charles didn’t deserve it back.

‘It’s perfect for Lucie, you should give it to her,’ Alastair said.

‘I will. Can I ask you something?’

Alastair sat down in the second armchair, relaxing his posture a little. ‘What did you want to ask?’

‘How did you find out you’re gay?’

Alastair didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘I think I began questioning my sexuality very young, around twelve or thirteen. I started feeling attracted to boys, but with everything else going on and me not fitting in and being bullied at school, I didn’t need something else to set me apart. I tried to deny these feelings, even if I could never quite convince myself I was straight. When Charles told me he was gay, I thought I had someone I could trust and I started working it out. Back then he acted like a mentor figure, someone who could assure me I wasn’t alone and help me figure out what I was feeling. I think it helps, to have an older queer person to talk to, as long as they don’t want to have sex with you.’

Cordelia hadn’t wanted to bring up memories of Charles, but she wanted to know how people discovered these things about themselves, because Cordelia couldn’t seem to figure it out. How did she even recognize if what she was feeling was attraction, or something else?

‘And did you always know how to tell apart romantic attraction and friendship?’ Cordelia asked.

Alastair smiled bitterly. ‘You should know by now, Layla, that I’ve never had friends. But yes, I could tell what I was feeling was romantic attraction. It’s hard not to when you start fantasizing about kissing boys. Why do you ask?’

‘I find it difficult,’ Cordelia admitted. ‘To tell those feelings apart. I guess Lucie did too for some time. I do think I like boys, I liked James at some point. But I’m also not opposed to kissing girls, or dating them. I think, at least. The idea seems rather normal and maybe appealing to me, but I have no clue if that’s normal and I’m just straight or if I actually like girls too.’

‘Maybe you’re bi or pan,’ Alastair said.

‘But how do I know for sure?’ Cordelia asked.

Alastair frowned. ‘I don’t know. When I stopped trying to deny it, it was pretty obvious to me that I’m gay. But there’s no shame in identifying as one thing but later realizing it wasn’t quite right. You could always start with bi or pan and see if it fits. Or you can even go with questioning until you’re sure.’

Cordelia guessed Alastair had a good point. She wasn’t sure which of these two she liked better, or what exactly the difference was, but it was something she could figure out.

‘Was that everything?’ Alastair asked. ‘Despite my day being only half as long as yours, I’m very tired and I want to go to sleep.’

‘I don’t have any more questions. But I’m very happy for you and Thomas. He’s a very sweet guy and you deserve that.’

Alastair smiled a little. ‘Thank you, Layla. I am happy too. I never imagined he’d like me. Or confess to it like he did. It was very sweet.’

‘I hope you will be happy with him. Good night, dâdâsh,’ Cordelia said, kissing his cheek.

She left Alastair in his room and returned downstairs, where Thomas and Lucie were still playing Mario Kart.

‘Is Alastair alright?’ Thomas asked.

‘Yes, just tired,’ Cordelia said. ‘He’s going to sleep.’

‘Oh, then I’m going to speak with him before he’s asleep,’ Thomas said. ‘Good night to both of you, in case I don’t see you anymore.’

Thomas went upstairs, and Lucie shut down her game and went upstairs too, inviting Cordelia along to her bedroom.

‘I gave Alastair his dagger back,’ Cordelia said. ‘He said you can have this one instead.’

Cordelia gave Lucie the dagger, who turned it around in her hand.

‘Are those real jewels? This looks expensive.’

‘It was a gift from Alastair’s ex,’ Cordelia said. ‘Best not to bring it up around him.’

‘Of course,’ Lucie said, putting the dagger on her desk. ‘I’ll have to start practicing with it.’

‘I’ll help you,’ Cordelia promised.

There was a small shelf of books in Lucie’s bedroom. At home, she had much more. Cordelia had always thought her family owned a lot of books, but the Herondale house could be mistaken for a bookstore, and Lucie’s bedroom was no exception. Lucie read a lot of modern YA fantasy novels, and drew inspiration from them. Cordelia borrowed Lucie’s books sometimes, even if her father used to tell her they were childish and not real literature. Lucie’s father was a literature teacher and he didn’t criticize his daughter’s tastes.

‘I’ve been wanting to read this one,’ Cordelia said, picking one of the books on the shelf.

‘You can. Careful with this one though, the spine is a bit fragile.’

Lucie could be obsessive when it came to the condition of her books, and Cordelia had learnt to handle them with care. She treated her books like Alastair treated pretty much everything in his possession.

Cordelia picked up a book. It had a pretty cover with a winged blonde girl holding a sword. A Dark and Hollow Star. Lucie had told her about it, and had finished it this week. She was a fast reader.

Cordelia settled in Lucie’s armchair with the book while Lucie took out her laptop to write. Some might say it wasn’t very social to both engage in different solitary activities together, but Cordelia didn’t mind and she knew Lucie liked having someone around when she was writing.

‘Do you think the third chapter is too soon to introduce the love interest?’ Lucie asked after typing for a while. ‘First chapter is the ball, second chapter she goes home and it ends with her falling asleep. Maybe there should be more before the falling asleep?’

Lucie often asked for advice on her stories, claiming Cordelia was not only her hero but also her muse.

‘Most of the story is set in the dreamland, right?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Yes. I have to work on my descriptions of the surroundings for sure, because much of it will be Eloise traveling through the land, running across various obstacles.’

‘So if you use the first chapter to introduce the family, maybe the evil aunt, then using the third chapter to start her dream sequence and introduce Mabel makes sense.’

Lucie’s eyes lit up. ‘Of course, I’ll introduce the evil aunt at the ball. Eloise will have a conversation with her but won’t recognize her, although meeting her will be rather unsettling. Later she’ll realize who she really was, but for the reader it’ll be enough to hint that the woman is at the very least important.’

Lucie went back to her writing, and Cordelia was glad to be of help. She tried to focus on her book, but kept watching Lucie. She could go into a very deep focus on her work. Lucie absently tugged strands of hair behind her ears. Cordelia loved Lucie’s shorter hair. It reminded her of the 1920s bob style, and Cordelia figured Lucie would look good in the fashion of that time period.

Cordelia slept restlessly that night. She’d trained all her life with cortana, but had never actually killed anything with it. It wasn’t quite what she’d expected and although the fight had been easy with the beast focused on Alastair, she hadn’t felt in control exactly. Fortunately, cortana did not need to be cleaned, since turning it into her necklace and back returned it to its default state. She didn’t feel like scrubbing werewolf blood of it, like Alastair had to do with one of his daggers.

When she woke up in the middle of the night, Cordelia shot up when she noticed a human shaped shadow. Part of her thought, no, it was simply a pile of clothes. But when she turned on the light to make sure, she was wrong. There was a person sitting in her armchair. A blonde girl, the one who’d been following Tatiana around. She was sitting with a straight back, wearing the same white dress Cordelia had seen her in the night Lucie had gone after her. Cordelia grabbed cortana and held it up in defense. What was her name again?

‘Careful there,’ the girl said in a smooth voice that reminded her of the sea. ‘You’ll just hurt yourself with that sword. There’s not a thing I could not make you do.’

‘Why are you here,’ Cordelia hissed.

‘Because I need your help,’ she said. ‘My name is Grace.’

‘What are you doing in my bedroom?’

Grace glared at her. ‘I believe it is polite to introduce yourself. Your name is?’

Cordelia wasn’t sure where Grace had found the nerve to insult her manners when she was the one who’d broken into the house in the middle of the night, but she also wanted to know what Grace wanted.

‘Cordelia Carstairs.’

‘The bearer of cortana,’ Grace said. ‘I have something to ask of you.’

‘You work for Tatiana,’ Cordelia said. ‘Why should I ever help you?’

‘Because if you don’t, you will not stand a chance against her,’ Grace said.

‘What is she doing? What are her plans?’

Grace gestured impatiently. ‘I cannot tell you.’

‘Then why should I trust you, if you won’t even tell me her plans?’

Grace made an annoyed sound. ‘No, I can’t. I cannot tell you what her plans are, or who she works with, because I have been ordered not to. There is not a thing she cannot make me do. And even if your little sword could defeat me… Being killed while I don’t have my skin and I cannot control myself is not what I want for my future, if you don’t mind.’

Cordelia put cortana down and sat down on her bed, facing Grace. What was she? ‘Your skin?’ she asked.

‘There are all sorts of myths of women that roam the seas,’ Grace said. ‘I am sure you know of them.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘Are you a mermaid?’

‘Something like it. The lovely ladies of the sea have become a bit muddled, modern adaptations tend to mash everything a bit together, use elements from one species and combine it with another. So many different myths, and some of us, like me, are somewhat in between.’

‘A siren, then,’ Cordelia guessed. ‘You said you could make me do anything.’

‘Precisely,’ Grace said. ‘Although that is not all. When I enter the sea, I am not a fish. Like many women in these parts, I am half seal. A selkie. What do you know of the selkie, Cordelia Carstairs?’

Cordelia had to think. Grace was right, there were many different myths of mermaids and many cultures had their own stories of the lovely ladies of the sea. Selkie did ring a bell.

‘Selkies are seals, who can transform into unearthly beautiful women when they come to shore,’ Cordelia said.

‘Precisely,’ Grace said. ‘You must have noticed, that I do not much look like a normal sixteen year old girl. Most selkies do not have the voice of a siren like I do, and that is why she wants me. I can make anyone do anything, and she controls me.’

‘How?’ Cordelia asked. ‘How does she control you?’

‘My skin, of course,’ Grace said with another impatient wave of her hand. ‘When I come to shore, I shed my skin, without it I cannot return to the sea. I loved the shore, I always have. I love to come and sing, and I was careless. Tatiana stole my skin and used a spell on it to bind me to her. She keeps my skin locked somewhere, hidden deep in the forest in the land in between. I do not know where it is, nor can I stray from her for long. So that’s why I’m asking you, champion of cortana. Find my skin and return it to me. I shall be free, and I shall tell you everything I know of Tatiana. But if you fail, there’s nothing I can do for you, I will have no choice to obey Tatiana when she asks me to destroy you.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘What is the land inbetween?’

‘I cannot explain it to you,’ Grace said. ‘It is tied too closely to Tatiana’s secrets. But you’ve been there today. When we found out who slayed that werewolf, I knew you were the one I should ask for help.’

‘And when I find your skin, what then?’

Grace handed her a seashell. ‘Crush this shell and I will come for you,’ she said. ‘But be careful. If you do not have my skin when you do, I cannot say what I will do to you.’

#Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Lucelia #Thomastair #the last hours #tlh #fic #fanfiction

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planetsano · 4 years

Text

sugar rush!

prompt: a very studious s/o relying on a sugar rush to make it through the day after staying up all night to study for an exam.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader, kirishima eijirou x reader if you squint (he's so cute I couldn't help myself)

tag(s): college!au, aged up, domestic, fluff, candy, facetime, energy crashing, weed

warning(s): drug references, cursing

su·gar rush

Noun

A sugar rush is an experience of high energy after eating or drinking a considerable amount of sugar in a short period of time, often associated with hyperactive children.

Bakugou told you to go to bed when you facetimed him last night at 2 am. You woke him fully out of his sleep and asked to keep you company while you studied.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bakugou rubbed at his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden brightness from his phone. His eyes were extra sensitive waking up from his slumber. You were lucky because if it was anyone else he would have let the phone ring and went back to bed.

“Did I wake you? I'm sorry.” You puffed your cheeks out holding your phone closer to your face. The angle wasn't flattering, but Bakugou and you were past that point in your relationship. You were 100% positive he’s screenshotted and taken at least 1,000 ugly pictures of you. You have some of him but they always seem to magically disappear. You should really put a lock on your phone.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Bakugou was in full view now. Head propped against his pillows, hair messy, and muscles exposed from wearing a black tank top. His room was dark but his face was illuminated from the brightness of his phone. His looks never failed to make your tummy do flips. How did you land a hottie like this?

“Yeah.. I know it's late, but I want company! I feel like I'm gonna fall asleep but I have to study more.” You propped your phone against some books giving him a full view of your set up. Papers, notebooks, colorful pens and highlighters seemingly scattered randomly throughout your desk. You sat in your chair with one leg to your chest and the other planted on the ground making your chair spin from side to side. He thought you looked cute like this. Pajamas, messy hair, and glasses falling off the bridge of your nose.

“You need to sleep.” He sighed. You just rolled your eyes and picked up a textbook that was out of frame.

“I'll sleep when I'm dead.” You said nonchalantly as you opened the book and started flipping through the pages.

“I'm serious. You're going to have zero energy for tomorrow. Go to bed.” Bakugou chastised you and you sighed heavily.

“Ugh, fine. You're no fun anyway.”

Knowing you, he should have known you weren't going to listen to him last night. He thought that maybe he should've blown up your door to see if you were okay. It became the morning routine for the both of you when you first started dating. He’d knock on your door to walk you to class and you’d greet him with a sweet smile and a kiss. Everyday it was somewhere different. One day it's his lips, then the next it could be on the cheek, and his personal favorite is when you stand on your tippy toes to try to kiss his forehead. But that didn't happen today because you didn't answer.

So it was safe to say that Bakugou was a little peeved when he got to class without you by his side. He entered the classroom to see some extras idly chatting with their peers and some doing homework at the last minute. Denki and Mina were chatting towards the back of the classroom. Mina noticed the angry blond and waved him over. Bakugou walked up and greeted them both with a low hum.

“Where's (Name)?” Mina asked, tilting her head to the side. It was odd seeing Bakugou by himself.

“Don't know.” Bakugou answered bluntly.

“Aw, don't tell me you've gone and made her mad.” Mina teased. Bakugou rolled his eyes and mumbled a low “shut up.”

“Now that I think of it, where's Kirishima? I didn't see him this morning either.” Denki added.

The three continued to chat but Bakugou wasn't paying attention at all. All their talking was background noise at this point being washed out by his thoughts. He was becoming more and more anxious as the minutes went by. Class was starting soon and most of everyone had already come into the lecture room.

Were you okay?

Are you sick?

Did you need help?

Were just a couple thoughts running through his mind so you could only imagine the relief and annoyance he felt when he saw you bop into the classroom with Kirishima. He had to do a double take because not only was weird hair giving you a piggyback ride, you were pouring three pixy stix in your mouth.

Bakugou watched you hop off Kirishima’s back and happily greet your friends (which was practically the entire classroom) like an energized puppy. You went to Izuku and happily squeezed his cheeks together between your dainty hands. He didn't mind, he thought your high energy was amazing.

“Good morning, Midoriya!” You smiled at him.

“G-ood mornin-g, (Name)!” His voice was somewhat muffled as he spoke but nonetheless he had a smile on his face.

“You’re so squishy just like a mochi!.” You continued to squeeze his chubby cheeks together as the three watched on.

“(Name) is being kind of..” Denki trailed off.

Hyper was the word he was looking for. You were hyper and practically bouncing off the walls like one of those tiny rainbow balls kids got out of the candy machine for 50 cents.

“Annoying? Yeah.” Bakugou said in his usual harsh tone and started to walk over to you. He was sure to give Kirishima a death glare as he walked past him to get to Mina and Denki.

“What'd I do?” A confused Kirishima asked Denki and Mina. He knew he was going to get an earful from his friend later.

All three of them watched the irritated blond tap your shoulder. You looked excited to see him and waved Izuku goodbye while Bakugou took you to another quiet corner of the lecture hall.

“What's with you?” Bakugou asked, looking down at you.

“Whaddya mean?” You looked down at your fingers and started twiddling them together under his stare.

“You're boppin’ around like you just did 80 lines of coke.” He said.

“Am not!” You looked up at him with furrowed brows, crossed your arms then stomped your foot childishly. You weren't scaring him if that's what you thought. He also noticed that your tongue was stained blue.

“You are.” He squeezed your nose gently. “What's got you so wired?”

“I didn't sleep at all last night so Kiri brought me some candy and a slushie this morning.” You answered.

“Candy?”

“Yeah!”

“Ever heard of coffee?”

“I don't like coffee.”

“You're going to crash, you know that right?” Bakugou asked.

“It's okay ‘cause you're going to catch me, right, handsome?” You kissed his cheek and on cue the bell rang.

Throughout the entire exam Bakugou couldn't help but to keep glancing at you in your seat. Your foot was tapping rapidly against the floor as you focused on your test. Every now and again he would see you sneak some form of candy into your mouth. Your eyes never left your test when your hand slid into your bag pulling out a gummy worm. It was such a contracting sight, being incredibly focused on the exam in front of you all while chewing on something as silly as a gummy worm. Eventually class ended and exams were turned in. You were pretty confident.

By the time lunch came around, you were completely drained. In the middle of your third class your energy plummeted and all you wanted to do was sleep. You could barely keep your head lifted without slipping into sleep. You were so happy lunch came around in hopes some food would pull you through the rest of the day.

When you walked into the cafe Mina spotted you and waved you over to the table. Everyone greeted you and soon you sat next to Bakugou who had saved a seat for you.

“Hey guys.” You smiled putting your bag on the table in front of you.

“So, (Name)! We were all thinking we should hang out tonight.” Mina smiled at you with an eager smile.

“Oh, yeah? What’s the plan?” You yawned and rested your head on Bakugou’s shoulder and wrapped your arms around his bicep.

“Game night!” Kiri exclaimed.

“And a hot box.” Denki added and high-fived Kiri.

The table continued to converse about the later plans and that's when Bakugou leaned over to whisper to you.

“You gonna eat?” He asked.

“No, ‘m not hungry..” You said quietly feeling your eyes start to droop. Soon enough you were

“So how does that sound (Name)? (Na-) Oh, she's asleep.” Mina laughed at the sight. You were fully asleep, still holding onto Bakugou’s arm like it was your pillow.

“I told her to go to sleep last night but she's fucking hardheaded.” Bakugou shook his head looking at you as you were fast asleep.

“Man! I thought the candy was working!” Kirishima frowned that his plan didn't work.

“I mean, it was for a little bit.” Denki said.

“I'm gonna take her back to the dorms so she can rest.” Bakugou said and gently shook you awake.

“Wah- Was I asleep?” You asked dazedly.

“Get up dummy, I'm taking you to your room.” He said.

He spent the rest of the afternoon with you, napping the afternoon away.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #my hero academia x reader #bakugou imagines #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou x reader #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakusquad #bnha imagines

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