#his every breath must be measured and timed and he can't afford to have it snatched away

[purgatoryandme]

Binghe is still in The Abyss during the "Cang Qiong Mountain Sect vs Huan Hua Palace" saga, but he's perfectly capable of getting out. He's just...hurt and confused and angry and very VERY jealous of what SQQ and LQG had going on last he checked. So before he dramatically leaves The Abyss, he needs to be stronger than LQG. Because he's going to rub that man's face into the dirt until Shizun realizes that Binghe is better. That Binghe can destroy him and also whatever Shizun is scared of. So. He needs to KNOW he's better than LQG. And to know that, he has to have spies on the surface. When they bring back information on the intersect cold war going on he is...so confused. His Shizun? Who pushed him into The Abyss? Was detained on suspicion of aiding heavenly demons? His Shizun who hates demons (him)???????? Sounds fake. But also...Shizun. He can't NOT investigate.

There is some pretty compelling evidence in the demon world that SQQ has been looking into demonic seals. Specifically, with Zhuzhi-lang. Demons think SQQ is seeking to seal something, while Huan Hua argues that he's trying to free TLJ. It's all very baffling. The only real important things he learns are: 1) SQQ is in the Water Prison.

2) LQG is planning to change that, sect politics or no sect politics.

This is, concretely, something he can do better than LQG. He can beat LQG to Shizun. He can even whisk Shizun away - demon mark aglow - and nobody in the cultivation world would seek to save him with this final condemnation. Sure it's a change of plans, but he can roll with this can't he? Shut up Meng Mo, this is a great plan.

Cue both LQG and LBH succeeding, simultaneously, in breaking into the Water Prison. Cue them both losing their minds at SQQ tied, beaten, and bleeding in the middle of a platform, suddenly looking terrified (because those two should NEVER EVER be in a room together, not Post-Abyss, this can't be happening-) Binghe takes a step closer to LQG, Xin Mo drawn, and SQQ flinches. And a lot of things click together for LQG. Luo Binghe is a heavenly demon and he certainly isn't dead. SQQ clearly knew both of those things. He's been looking into the sealing of TLJ. SQQ is also afraid.

This, here, is the enemy LQG has been training himself to fight. He's right. He's also very very wrong.

As LBH and LQG turn on each other, an eerily similar mad glint in both of their eyes, SQQ lets a little something something slip in his desperation: "Liu-shidi is not permitted to die for this master again-"

And this does not help the situation even a little bit.

Genuine SVSSS angst thoughts, but I've always been curious about what SQQ would have done if, in his downward spiral (Jinlan city arc would be BRUTAL for this, but I'm thinking during Plantzun era), Binghe had actually killed LQG. On one hand, that's the plot fulfilled. LQG was always meant to die in the story and nobody is allowed to challenge the protagonist. On the other hand...LQG is the one character that broke SQQ's preconceived notions from the start. He's SQQ's first plot-breaking action, a true test of his ability to be OOC, proof that he CAN change things. He's also SQQ's friend. SQQ runs away from his feelings until he can't, doesn't take the story seriously (or thinks he doesn't) until it's clear to him that it hurts others, constantly reinforces and justifies his unwillingness to do anything about The Problem of Luo Binghe with idea that the world will bend to LBH's whims and there's nothing he can do to stop it unless it's to help Binghe or himself specifically. He's never had to face losing another person through that passiveness, through The Plot as he allows it, through LBH as the vessel carrying out that loss. What kind of mental gymnastics would he have to do to get over it, knowing that he emotionally processes pretty much 0% of what happens to him? Could he even manage that? Given a redo, what would he do? He can't convince LQG to NOT protect him, not after saving his life, and not saving his life is unacceptable. He can't leave LQG's rescue to anyone else, knowing that it's part of The Plot that he'll die! He can't run away - the system will never allow that, role-locked as he is. Just SQQ trying to play 5D chess against The System, having absolutely no idea that LBH never wanted him to die to begin with, making incredibly convoluted choices to keep LQG alive...and, as a consequence, himself (not even temporarily dying!!), since the idiot will apparently DIE for him. Force-grinding LQG's cultivation with wife plots and artifacts and eye-twitching intensity as LQG begins to suspect that there's something SQQ is afraid of.

[its-mellohi]

Sleeping At Last as the Dream SMP Playlist

because i like combining my sources of comfort. Link Here

[the connections of each song and my interpretations under the cut]

PS. these are purely my interpretations of the songs and of the events-- feel free to disagree!!!

Mars: The First L'manburg War

We were full of life We could barely hold it in We were amateurs at war Strangers to suffering

Let the brokenness be felt 'Til you reach the other side There is goodness in the heart Of every broken man Who comes right up to the edge Of losing everything he has

Woodwork: The Rebuilding of L'manberg

All our love came out of the woodwork. All our strength came out of the woodwork. We only notice light When darkness crashes against it. We only notice light Deep in the woodwork.

It's a cruel, cruel trick How we find ourselves When we lose everything else. Like a train wreck, The sound of your breathing hits my ears. Our world reappears And it breaks us new.

Eight: Wilbur, Pogtopia (this one's a given obviously)

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect, too Now I'm a broken mirror

But I can't let you see all that I have to lose All I've lost in the fight to protect it I can't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford to let myself be blindsided

Heirloom: Fundy, from Wilbur

You are so much more than your father's son. You are so much more than what I've become. Long before you were born there was light Hidden deep in these young, unfamiliar eyes. A million choices, though little on their own, Become the heirloom of the heaviness you've known.

When the scale tipped, When you inherited A fight that you were born to lose. It's not your fault, No, it's not your fault, I put this heavy heart in you.

Neptune: Fundy in the aftermath

You let me set sail With cheap wood So I patched up Every leak that I could ’til the blame grew too heavy

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece

Pluto: Tommy, Pogtopia, Exile, Etc..

I've been worried all my life A nervous wreck most of the time I've always been afraid of heights Of falling backwards, falling backwards

One day I had enough Of this exercise of trust I leaned in and let it hurt Let my body feel the dirt When I break pattern, I break ground I rebuild when I break down I wake up more awake than I've ever been before

West: Clingyduo, Exile

Maps stretched out Too many miles to count Let's just say we're inches apart And even closer at heart And we'll be just fine

Another pin pushed in To remind us where we've been And every mile adds up And leaves a mark on us And sometimes our compass breaks And our steady true north fades We'll be just fine

We'll be just fine It's a matter of time 'Til our compass stands still

Earth : Technoblade & The Syndicate

Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house But I put it out of my mind Long enough to call it courage To live without a lifeline I bend the definition Of faith to exonerate my blind eye Till the sirens sound, I'm safe

Meanwhile, my family's taking shelter The sparks send the fire down the wire A countdown begins Until the dynamite gives in

The echo, as wide as the equator Travels through a world of built up anger Too late to pull itself together now

Five: Karl, time travel, the in-between, his memories

It feels like an out of body experience But something gets lost from a safe distance Now I can't put my mind to rest And I can't help but second guess Living behind this one-way mirror

Sorrow: Niki's character arc

It feels like falling It feels like rain Like losing my balance Again and again It once was so easy Breathe in, breathe out But at the foot of this mountain I only see clouds

Slowly, then all at once The dark clouds depart And the damage is done So pardon the dust While this all settles in With a broken heart Transformation begins

Mercury: Tubbo's character arc

No one can unring this bell Unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new God knows, I am dissonance Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune

Yet I know, if I stepped aside Released the controls, you would open my eyes That somehow, all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life

Jupiter: Ranboo.

I wrote it down in the winter of 1610 Just a secret under lock and key until then While collecting the stars, I connected the dots

I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not I'm just a curious speck that got caught up in orbit Like a magnet it beckoned my metals toward it, toward it

North: Snowchester, the _ Live family

We will call this place our home The dirt in which our roots may grow Though the storms will push and pull We will call this place our home

We'll tell our stories on these walls Every year, measure how tall And just like a work of art We'll tell our stories on these walls

A little broken, a little new We are the impact and the glue Capable more than we know To call this fixer upper home

South: Sam's Character arc

If truth is north Then I am true south I can't figure it out God knows Always looking up 'Til my eyes give up That's how I lost touch Of who I am and who I was

Some truths are loyal As the shadows we lead Some truths are stubborn as gravity No matter what category you fit into Truth's got its sight set on you

Body: Closing.

No, I don't have a script for this But I know the right words exist Somewhere And I just need more time I know, I know, I'm asking for the moon But I must listen to intuition Believe me, I only want what's right

There's magic in our bones A north star in our soul That remembers our way home God, it's easy to forget There's magic in all of this

Enjoy :D

[athys-obelia]

of swords and rubies

synopsis: on athanasia de alger obelia's eighteenth birthday, she sits in the ruby palace awaiting her father's present - a sweet little mandate sentencing her to death. the news his personal guard arrives with, though, is quite the different from what she expects.

character/s: athanasia de alger obelia, claude de alger obelia, felix robane

part: one / ?

warning/s: mentions of death / execution, poisoning, tlp!claude is a shit dad, tlp!felix supremacy

|•| ruby palace |•| 10:45 am |•|

"a visitor from the emperor's place, your highness."

lilian york's voice has always carried the same gentleness. for as long as she can remember, athanasia has heard softness, music, safety, in lily - the voice of a mother. the realisation, long overdue, hits her as she inquires after her mysterious guest. i've never addressed lily as such, have i?

the brunette tries for a smile. "it is his majesty's personal guard, princess, sir felix from the robane duchy. i have hannah showing him to the visitors' lounge - perhaps the knight comes bearing good news?"

the blonde princess smiles, nodding hopefully. it's all she can do for lily, she guesses, the woman who cared for her like one of her own. just as lily's smile never dimmed once during the past eighteen years, athanasia supposes she must now return the favour.

but lily never saw her father's eyes that night.

lily hadn't seen his stance harden at the mere sight of her.

the malice, the poison in claude de alger obelia's voice wasn't directed at lily.

so lily couldn't possibly know. for all athanasia knows claude could be in his study, spinning a roulette wheel to decide how to have her executed. he'd want her gone by the earliest, she assumes, probably before jennette can wake and intercede for her - or evidence is found towards the actual culprit.

either way, if the least she could do was comfort lily somewhat with a little, hopeful smile, then the smile would be priority.

|•| ruby palace |•| 11:00 am |•|

  "sir," athanasia greets, recoiling as the knight grins at her. she'd heard stories of the atmosphere in the imperial palace, the deceptive, snake-like nature of noble court - surely, with a father so prominent in both politics and obelia's military, felix robane was one to be vary of.

and - being her father's personal guard would require being similarly ruthless and cunning, would it not? this smiley knight could always be the one poisoning her father against her behind their backs.

  "to what do i owe this pleasure?"

the redhead attempts lightening the mood with another bright grin. "greetings to the star of the obelian empire. may the gods' blessings be with you, princess. today, i have come as a messenger regarding his majesty's wish that you join him for breakfast-"

  "-wh, what? no, i... i'm not going anywhere with you."

felix robane's natural smile falls. "what is it, princess?"

athanasia steps backwards in defense as the knight tries comforting her, a trembling hand raised to cover her mouth. "y-you can tell his majesty i won't...won't be joining him."

  "but, princess-"

not daring to move her eyes from the redhead, athanasia reaches for an hourglass resting on the mantle beside her, holding it up in defense. "go back. go and tell the emperor to send me the death warrant himself. there's no need to build such a roundabout way of-"

felix grimaces. "you may be misunderstanding the situation, prin-"

  "-don't 'princess' me. if he has the guts, have my father tell me his decision himself. you can't force me to leave. i won't, i won't be led out of my home with you pretending as if everything is fine."

the knight holds up his hands in surrender. "you have the higher status of the two of us, your highness, i wouldn't dare pushing you into anything you do not like. i'm afraid you cannot refute the emperor's word, however. but...but if your highness has questions, i can promise to answer with complete honesty."

  "how can i trust you?"

felix taps his chin in thought. "as a knight, my value is measured not by my skill, but the trust put in me by those i am pledged to. my oath is to the obelian emperor. you, princess, are his majesty's heir, so as along as your commands do not undermine the emperor's, you are included in the oath."

athanasia blinks, studying the knight. he seems to be curling into himself so as to not be percieved as a threat. she watches his careful movements, irate. "i read a book once..." she starts, feeling self conscious all of sudden. do i sound like a madwoman?

felix robane nods eagerly. "i was told the princess was an avid reader."

she flushes, glaring at her lap. "...anyway, in the book, the king's sister married a traitor, and because they were technically royalty, he couldn't just kill them under charges of treason. so instead, the king had their food poisoned."

athanasia watches the subtext register on the knight's face. "your highness...no, i- his majesty has no such thing planned. i can assure you - the matter is actually quite the opposite."

  "...is it?"

he stares at his lap before looking up at her determinedly. "i can't say i know how your highness feels about your father, but...he needs you right now." felix sighs softly, "as you know, her highness the princess jennette hasn't yet regained consciousness. this makes you his majesty's most favourable heir."

athanasia stares at the hourglass in her hand before setting it down. interest piqued, she eyes the fidgeting knight. "why would you bring this up, sir robane, and to me of all people? is the emperor perhaps...ill?"

the look in the redhead's eyes is more than enough confirmation. athanasia grips the arm of her seat. "he has been having the strangest migraines ever since...well, a little after your debut, actually. except lately, these headaches seem to be weakening him. quite a lot."

a cold sweat creeping up her neck, athanasia downs a glass of water before turning to the distressed knight. "i assume you want my assistance in hiding this from the nobles. since jennette isn't here."

  "essentially, yes." he nods once more. "with all the commotion surrounding princess jennette, both the nobles and commoners are watching the palace diligently. the factions are too divided - of course, a large portion of the nobles support princess jennette as your father's heir, most of them being blood purists, while an equally large believe you are more competent, having been raised in the palace. regrettably, it isn't just the nobles - we have a delegation arriving at the palace soon enough to settle matters regarding the southern territory. we cannot afford weakening his majesty's image, not right now."

her eyes flicker to the obelian coat of arms on felix's shoulder, and the sigil of house robane embroidered on his cloak. "i don't suppose i have much of choice in the matter - but since urgency of the situation affects my country, i doubt i would've refused anyway. but, sir felix..." she pauses, studying his expression, "my father's palace doesn't garuntee my safety. so i must call on your oath as a knight now."

  "of course, your highness." hesitantly, as if he held a china doll in his hands, felix murmurs, "it can be a chance to get closer to his majesty, too. er - that is, if only your highness wishes it to be."

nodding, athanasia stares at her hands. "...perhaps."

|•| emperor's palace |•| 3:00 pm |•|

with her father's stare scrutinising her every move, she bows deeply in greeting.

his gaze is different, athanasia notices. the malice is gone. the hatred has dissipated.

now, as if she were a complicated math problem, claude de alger obelia stares her down, a spark of challenge alight in his eyes. "don't worry your head too much about it," he starts, "i haven't called you here for any special reason."

"...i see."

he tilts his head curiously, studying her reactions still. "oh? what's this? no declarations of love today? no pleading for attention? you're strangely quiet for someone so full of demands."

she fidgets with her dress, a deep red blooming on her cheeks in embarrassment. "i apologise if my words troubled your majesty."

claude nods slowly, eyes tracing her unkempt hair. "you overestimate yourself, princess."

athanasia inhales sharply. what does he want?

"felix's method of conveying information is a bit... exaggerated, at times," the blonde emperor says, watching her grimace under his stare, "i'm here to clear up any misunderstandings he may have unknowingly planted."

"ye, yes?"

claude's hand lands on his sheathed sword. athanasia blood freezes as he pulls it out, slowly, eyes not moving from hers. "i'm assuming you've been told of the council being held tomorrow. it will be your unofficial entrance into politics, so i hope there won't be any...mistakes. you'll need the nobility's support."

she nearly snorts. you wouldn't hesitate in burying anyone who dared look jennette in the eyes, i'm sure. still, athanasia tries smiling - lily always smiled whenever she was unsure of what to say, after all - and lets go of her skirt, nodding. "there won't be any."

the last time she spoke to her father, she'd known that whether or not he decided on mercy, she wouldn't be talking to him again. thus the courage to empty her heart, lighten her shoulders. now... now, athanasia didn't know what to think. how to act.

she flinches when he speaks, hands tracing the edge of the blade lightly. "do think this sword is important to me, athanasia?"

an odd warmth courses through her at the sound of her name. or was it because of the voice, the owner of the voice? she honestly couldn't tell. "your majesty..." athanasia swallows - what's the right answer? - "i would assume so. i'm no knight, of course...but, a sword is effective for both defense and offense in battle. and i hear your majesty's swordsmanship is unrivaled in obelia, so...yes, i think."

she watches claude draw in a long breath, staring at the weapon. "it's interesting that you think so. but at the end of the day, the sword is just another weapon, isn't it? i can always have better ones at the flick of my wrist."

"your...majesty?"

a drop of blood runs down the emperor's finger as he runs it along the edge of the blade. "it is useful, isn't it? at least...as long as i decide it is. a simple tool's value will always be decided by me, after all."

cold dread settles into athanasia's bones. "i...i see, sire."

nodding approvingly, claude de alger obelia places the beautiful sword in her hands. "happy birthday, princess."

[untitledgoosegay]

This Is A Dimidue Propaganda House

"It would be a shame if the scars I got from protecting you were to fade."

"Irreplaceable. Cherished."

"Yes! You will call me your friend again and again, no matter how many hardships I must endure ... "

"Whether it's duty towards the living, or guilt for all those we have lost ... such burdens are not yours to bear by yourself."

"Despite all, I count myself a lucky man."

"He has always been too kind to be king. He has always felt too much for the weak and the dead. That is exactly why I look up to him." -- fun fact a closer translation of that last line is "it's exactly because he's that kind of man that I came to adore his Highness." Thank you teaspoon translations

every moment in the Academy arc where Dimitri urges Dedue to accept comfort and emotional support, while Dedue tries to push him away; establishing a professional wall between them that's never been there before; even in the face of Dimitri's hurt and confusion, because Dimitri knows him, knows Dedue is lonely and hurting, & he knows better than to believe Dedue genuinely wants to shut him out, but what else can he believe when it's the only thing Dedue will tell him?

& meanwhile Dimitri refuses Dedue's attempts to care for him, or make sure Dimitri takes care of himself, because that's how Dedue expresses love and the way that it's safe for Dedue to express love; Dimitri believes he's only doing it out of duty or obligation, and Dedue insists that's true, because he can't afford the emotional honesty to admit what he will five years later -- that he wants to accept Dimitri's friendship and care in return

the DRAMA. the YEARNING. the PINING. the ROME ANTS

the way Dimitri talks about Dedue to anyone who'll listen with this glowing affection and admiration. Not praising his strength or his dedication, no; not te things Dedue fronts, not the walls he puts up, but his kindness. His gentleness. Someone Dimitri is proud to know, proud to call his --

...

-- vassal.

the way that Dedue has known about Dimitri's rage and psychosis since the day they met, and loves him not despite but because of it. because alone among the Lions, Dedue understands that Dimitri's fury is inextricable from his kindness, his compassion, his deep & abiding love. what sort of kindness could witness the things Dimitri has, and not rage? what love could survive the greatest horrors humanity has wrought and not become monstrous?

the way they know each other as flawed and vulnerable in ways that no one else does, or is allowed to

the way Dimitri always, always, even in the deepest depths of his vengeful fugue state, begs Dedue to prioritize his own life -- making Dedue the only character besides Claude who can survive every route without recruitment; the way Dedue's survival on Crimson Flower determines whether Dimitri dies snarling and clawing and cursing to his last breath, or quietly, comforted, granted some measure of peace in his final moments

the way Dimitri shatters when he believes Dedue's died for him. the way Dedue's return at Myrddin Bridge is the first time since the timeskip (since the flame emperor reveal, honestly) that Dimitri shows any sign of hope, any affection or worry; "if you follow me i'll use you until the flesh is stripped from your bones," he tells Byleth, then pleads with Dedue not to throw his life away again

(another fun fact: in the JP text, the word Dimitri uses to call Dedue irreplaceable is the same one he uses when he's proposing marriage to Byleth)

the way Dedue responds with this soft surprise -- I don't think he realized until that moment just what his 'death' did to Dimitri. & he agrees readily, which I don't think he would have prior to the timeskip -- but five years of recovery & reconnection with other Duscur survivors, the chance to join a community of his own people, and to build relationships and a future for himself untouched by Dimitri's shadow, have nurtured in him a resilience and peace that he never had at Garreg Mach. healing scars where there once were roughly-bandaged wounds. he has a place to go back to, now. he has something to live for, not just die for.

-- and yet -- from that community, from those people who loved him and protected him and brought him back from the brink of death -- Dedue still chose to return to Dimitri's side. he didn't have to. the raw mathematics of any debt to Dimitri were paid. as far as anyone among the Lions knew, he was dead. he could have disappeared and no one would ever have been the wiser

but he still wants a future with Dimitri. he is building a future for himself, and he wants Dimitri to be in it.

and so he comes back

and so they find that future together. they live out the rest of their days, together. professional in public, but "like family" in private (which imo is a compromise of personal preference more than politics -- Dedue is a very private person, and post-AM Dimitri is arguably the highest-profile public figure Fódlan has). buried together.

Your Honor They Are In Love

I didn't put Byleth because I wanted to see who it was outside of them. I only put Blue Lions because I wanted to see what it would he like for the lions only. If you selected any/all/poly please put it in the tags, but it's strictly just Blue Lions.

My personal choice is Mercie, but if I had a second person, it would be Felix.

By the way, I do not want any ship hate on this. Idc if it's a passive-aggressive "I hate this ship with a passion" followed by the ship you really like. Also, I forgot to add none to the poll. If you don't have one for it, reblog this in the tags, but do not put the ship you have for him outside of the blue lions. This is strictly for blue house characters.

[kcnshi]

[ bathed ] obviously in a platonic way. It’s just two friendos cleaning themselves after a rigorous training :)))

ᴇxᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ our muses take a shower together and receiver looks over sender’s scars.

       STEAM FILLS THE AIR BETWEEN THEM, and it soothes lungs that had moments ago been ragged for breath, the passive warmth of it slowly getting through the skin, settling deeper into their flesh as to relax strained muscles... but it wasn't quite enough. Right then and there, he truly wanted nothing more than to sink into a heated bath, to lose himself in simple bodily comforts, an indulgence that wouldn't be so unnecessarily rare for him if he would just settle down. If anything, settling down for a while would grant him more than simple pleasures, it would fulfill needs he seemed to have no problem disregarding if it meant progressing on his mission.

       A SCOLDING SUGGESTION HANZO HAD NO PROBLEMS IN BRINGING UP, even now, managing to sound disappointed even if not surprised as he offered to pour water down Kenshi's back, to wash away the sweat and grime of the day, leaving nothing but his scars and bruises behind.

       "You're making me sound entirely helpless." In return, Kenshi can only let out an airy chuckle as he wipes his front down with a wash towel. "I can't subsist entirely off of your hospitality, Hanzo, I must be able to fend for myself should worst come to worst." No offense was taken, for he knew well enough that wasn't what his friend had meant in the slightest. Even he could admit that not every scar on him had a story he could recall, there simply because he thought he could not afford the time to properly tend to his wounds, always moving from one fight to the next.

       "Besides, I've heard a considerable amount of people could find my appearance attractively rugged." As opposed to thinking he looked like a mangled, scar-ridden tomcat -- an edge of defensiveness shows itself here even if his tone is playful, but it is but another piece in the light-hearted banter. "You are not without your own scars, I'm certain."

       Here Kenshi shifts, turning to face the other man as he blindly reaches forward, an awkward grasp of a shoulder that he turns into a friendly pat as he makes sense of how they are situated next to each other so that may scoot his stool closer. "Allow me to return the favor -- I will not have you grumbling over my appearance when I have only a vague idea of yours."

       TRUST AND PRIVACY ARE INTRINSICALLY TIED TOGETHER, you cannot ask for one without having to offer the other, but to have them both in equal measure was fundamental in being at peace with your place in the world, a necessary stepping stone towards rebuilding yourself as a person. TOGETHER THEY BROUGHT YOU SECURITY, SAFETY IN A WORLD OTHERWISE HOSTILE.

      "I have wondered -- are you able to decide what scars linger and which ones fade?" Genuine curiosity laces his voice, one hand pouring water over Hanzo's shoulders as another runs over his back, making sense of every stretch of skin underneath his fingertips, brushing away stray hairs when they get in the way. "Considering your current otherwordly constitution." It would make for a nice counter-argument to Hanzo's critiques of his self-care habits... but alas even then he knows his friend would still have a point.

[professordrarry]

Hey! It's my first time doing this, so bare with me: College students (maybe something like arts?). Academic rivals. Late for class and alone on the classroom because class moved to somewhere unknown on campus! -- Hope you have the best time with the asks ;)

Hello! this took forever. I hope you don’t mind that I also combined it with one from @drarryruinedme7 because they just flowed so nicely together 

“What are you doing here?” 

Harry was out of breath. He definitely hated that he was out of breath, especially when he looked around and found that it was only Malfoy in the room. Which honestly didn’t make much sense since he was almost fifteen minutes late for this tutorial. “What am I doing here?" Malfoy returned cooly." well, that's rich. Considering you're the late one. "

"I'm always late," Harry replied quickly. Which was obviously a stupid thing to say. He felt the same way he had every day since the game the week before. Flustered and alone, tired and confused. Plus, out of breath and overheated. None of this was helped when Malfoy turned to him and raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes, I've noticed," he quipped with a smirk. "Well, if you must know, it would seem tutorial has been moved." When Harry did not reply, Malfoy held up his phone. "So I mean, I've texted everyone I know on the design course. All four of them. And I can't figure it out. So if you have any leads, that would be the only helpful thing you've done this morning." 

"I literally just got here," Harry sighed back. He pulled out his phone nevertheless and tried to put his tone away as he texted Pavarti. "You can't possibly know what I've done with my morning." 

Malfoy snorted. "I do so. Have you seen your hair? Because I am. Right now. If you didn't wake up twelve minutes ago and then run to campus, I will put myself in goal next game." 

The statement startled a laugh out of Harry just as his phone pinged. "Fine," he said begrudgingly. "But I'm tempted to lie so they the world gets to see you attempt a save." 

"Hey! I'll have you know I can play any position and be completely proficient." 

Any position, huh? 

In his mind, the obvious quip floated immediately forward. Easy. Flashy. Fun. But the words stuck like a gob of gum in his throat. Because….well, because Saturday, but he wasn't going to dwell on that. 

He tried to cover for himself quickly and held up his phone. "Patel. Class was moved to the B Wing room. Something about the printer." 

"Well, that's fucking fantastic, isn't it. Right then. Off we go." 

"Y-you...I can… Okay, fine." 

He pushed his pack straps back up his shoulder and reflexively pushed his glasses flat to his face and then followed Malfoy’s swift form back out of the A Building onto the quad, back into the sunny morning. He exhaled as the light brought him back to the floaty, happy mood he'd been in that morning. The tension eased out of his bones. He was almost able to ignore the fact that Malfoy had slowed his pace to match his shorter stride. And that he was in that grey cardigan and denim, hands shoved in pockets in a very pointed way. That he was very decidedly not talking to Harry. 

They'd made it halfway across the square when Malfoy seemed to veer drastically off course. 

"Malfoy, B wing," Harry called as Malfoy got further away. "Late for class? Remember?" 

Malfoy spun to face him and shrugged. "We're twenty minutes late to a forty-minute tutorial. I'm getting coffee from the good cart. You coming?" 

"I—" which was a pointless start to the sentence, honestly. He was already walking towards Malfoy, a magnetic pull; he was pretending it was toward the caffeine. A latte. That was all. 

"You'll have to pay," Malfoy said nonchalantly to him as he approached and began walking again. "I left my wallet in my other bag." 

Harry let the outraged mutter flow out of him. It felt like the first safe noise he'd made around the man in nearly a week. 

"Convenient," he replied as the got to the cart. "Large latte, please. And I guess whatever he's having," he added with a grimace. 

"Flat white. And a caramel macchiato - oh cut it out, Potter," he added as he noted Harry's face. "We're missing Andrews' printing tutorial. Bribes are going to be necessary." 

Harry grumbled, but paid the girl behind the cart who managed to - very, excruciatingly slowly - make them three drinks. 

By the time they made it to the B Building, Parvati was walking to them with a look of utter amusement. 

"Good job, you two. Andrews is fuming. This is the one class all term you were meant to be on time for. He's waiting in there. Wants to see you." 

"Thanks, Patel," Malfoy said breezily, pushing past her. 

Harry felt a flare of fury pass through him. Malfoy was truly exhausting. Nothing phased him. He briefly thanked Parvati more sincerely before rushing into the empty classroom as well. 

There, he found Philip Andrews smirking, a hand in his sandy blonde hair as he chuckled at Malfoy’s offering. He was trying desperately to stay mad, Harry could see it in his eyebrows, but whatever that fucking charm was that Malfoy managed to find for everyone who wasn't Harry seemed to have already smoothed things over. 

"Potter," Andrews barked. "I hear you are the benefactor behind this little bribe? I'd thank you but mostly I'm pissed off that I'm going to have to spend half an hour explaining this damn thing to you two because you're so precious that you couldn't bother making to my class." 

"I'm so sorry, Philip," Harry muttered. "I honestly just overslept." 

Malfoy smirked at Philip as he took a micro-step closer to him. Harry's anger flared again. "You could make him promise not to do it again, but I feel like that might be pointless." 

"You, Mr Malfoy, could do with checking your own email," Philip admonished, though his smile was now broad and he sipped his coffee. 

"I know. I do apologise, too."

"Right. Whatever. Get out of here. I'm busy." 

Malfoy gave a small salute that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else but somehow managed to be annoying and flirtatious in equal measure on him. He waltzed out the door and Harry smiled sheepishly before following. 

"Told you coffee was a good idea," Malfoy said snarkily as the door shut behind them. 

And Harry snapped. 

"I can't believe you didn't wake me up!" he hissed, moving quickly so that he was able to back Malfoy into the wall a little bit. To his great irritation, Malfoy’s smirk only grew. "Fuck off, you arse! Seriously! I can't afford to fail this class! We aren't all here on daddy's money!" 

"Oh relax, Potter. Honestly. Has anyone ever told you you're a tad dramatic?" 

"I'm dramatic! You idiot. You missed the class too because neither of us checked our email last night!" 

"I already told you. I'm not going to cart your little scholarship around just because…just because…I was ready this morning and you weren't. So I left." 

Harry deflated. "What the hell am I doing?" he asked himself. "You can't even say it. A football rivalry and that's enough for you to not even be able to say it." 

Malfoy’s eyes snapped from their lazy smirk to one almost approaching concern. He reached forward and caught Harry's t-shirt gently between two fingers. Harry didn't exactly resist. 

"You know, Potter, if I'd known three years ago three years ago that missing class was all it would take for you to get me up against a wall, we could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble." 

"This isn't a joke, Malfoy. I can't… InI can't afford to…" 

"Hey," Malfoy said softly. "Hey, okay. I'm sorry Harry. I'll… I'll wake you up next time." 

"Oh, next time, you will you," Harry grumbled, sagging a little into Malfoy’s body. "Next time is a bit presumptuous there, Malfoy." 

"Is it?" Malfoy whispered, leaning in close. 

Harry caught his mouth in his and sighed. "Definitely presumptuous." 

"Well," Malfoy admitted as he pulled back. "You know what they say about assuming." 

"I do. That Draco Malfoy is more of an ass than you or me." 

"Lucky for you," Draco replied, pulling Harry back into his mouth. 

Harry dropped his coffee, leaving a mess in the corridor that he had no hope of cleaning up. One day, his ridiculous decisions were definitely going to catch up to him.