#how instead of being a sad departure its one filled with hope with a softness of a cloud embracing them while

[aria0fgold]

It's one of those days where my head only allows soft music cuz anything remotely loud or fast paced makes it hurt now so... Funeral of the Last Survivor playlist it is then.

[absent-enigma]

mothman Horror x reader pt 2 compilation from ao3

While mothman was motionless, you took the opportunity to observe him.

He was massive, wings folded behind powerful shoulders. Soft reddish-orange fur covered the clavicles, collarbone and halfway down the sternum. The upper cervical vertebrae were partially visible. The skull held fluffy antenna, the left one somewhat tattered. In the dim light, you could barely make out a terrible jagged hole in the left-top side of mothman’s skull. The right eye socket was void of light. 

Mothman moved slowly near to hold up a small wooden sign.

‘Horror’ was written on it.

Mothman pointed a claw to it, then himself.

-

“Your name is Horror?”

Horror perked up at your voice. Unable to speak through his current upset, he nodded eagerly in return. He doubted it was enough to jog your memory, but that was okay. He had plenty of items around your shared home to help you remember. 

As much as Horror wanted to hold you close and assure you everything would be okay, as you’d done for him in the past, he couldn’t, wouldn’t do so when you were so wary of him.

Especially now, when you discreetly scooted backward in the nest.

Horror let slip an unhappy whine.

-

A mothman named Horror. 

You weren’t going to judge a book by its cover or name, but you were going to be wary of a massive cryptid creature being so close.

This was likely a case of mistaken identity, but how do you explain that to someone who looked so hopeful yet lost when staring at you? You weren’t sure what would happen if Mothm…Horror decided you were an intruder in his home opposed to someone he thought he knew. 

As dangerous as it might be, and ill-timed, you needed rest to process this situation.

“…mind if I sleep here?”

-

Despite your continued fear and wariness of him nearby, you wanted to sleep here?

Horror couldn’t help but shove his bulk up against the nest to croon sad yet happy noises. Despite  not remembering him, you found the nest acceptable and safe to sleep within. You must like the modifications he’d made at your suggestion. 

If only he could join you; Horror wanted to keep his mate warm and comfortable.

“Safe here.” Horror eventually murmured. “Rest.” Slowly lowering his large body alongside the nest, Horror’s four arms uselessly clutched a stray pillow.

It wasn’t warm and alive like you were.

-

A light brush of your hair woke you from your slumber. By the time you turned over, Horror’s hand drew away to join the two comfortably resting on the side of the nest, his fourth hand used to rest his cheekbone against palm.

Horror, eyelight dilated to fill his socket, gazed down at you with utter adoration.

You swallowed down a scream over this mothman looming over you while you’d been sleeping.

Horror noticed your trepidation, visibly deflating; a feat for someone so large. 

You watched Horror get to his feet, leaving the cozy home subdued as he took flight.

-

Soaring through the early morning sky, Horror’s desperation rose.

He needed something important to show his mate; to help jog your memory.  He couldn’t stand the thought of being unable to be near to you but knew from his own past lapses in memory that pushing did no good.  But what could he possibly-

‘Amazing! This flower is rare, Horror! It blooms in very few places, deep inside caverns by pools of water.’ 

Horror switched directions with an eager beat of wings. Distracted as he was, Horror did not notice a figure following him, wings flapping occasionally to keep up.

-

With Horror’s departure, your mind laid out your situation.

You were currently in unknown territory, all alone with a large mothman who’d scooped you up into his four arms to bring you here to his home, convinced you were his mate. 

Before that, the highway your vehicle broke down on was rife with cryptid sightings, where car failures happened occasionally. Despite this knowledge, you’d decided to drive late at night, instead of staying in the motel you’d passed by.

…maybe your cryptid-obsessed friend could help you figure out how to convince Horror that you were not, in fact, his mate.

-

Horror correctly remembered the flower’s location in the cavern.  Plucking one reverently, he tucked it away.

“Haven’t seen you here in years.”

Horror pivoted, avoiding sharp claws and talons. Seizing a bony ankle, Horror leaned away, avoiding a strike from large, black feathered wings.

“Did you abduct someone again?”  

Reaper.

“This is the third time.” Reaper’s empty sockets blinked. “You shouldn’t keep what’s not yours; humans will show up, searching.”

“My mate.” Horror growled, fur bristling.

“It’s not, Horror.  I’m sorry.” Reaper twisted out of Horror’s grasp, browbone furrowed. “You know humans shouldn’t live here. It’s too dangerous for them.”

-

Horror didn’t return.

Either he figured out you weren’t his mate, or he went out to clear his skull to figure out how to prove it to you.

You startled at a loud message notification from your phone.  Checking the text, you saw it was the tow-truck company wondering where you were. Getting that sorted, you wonder what-

“Heya.”

Another low voice.

You turn.

The embodiment of death perched at the edge of the nest, large black feathered wings spread.

…wait.

It was a winged skeleton monster, dressed entirely in black, wearing a cowl.

“Wanna go home?”

-

Horror lurched through the underbrush, wings fluttering. He’d worn himself out tussling with Reaper in the cavern to be up to flying home. 

He had strong legs from being forced to climb during times he had to reserve his stamina. Soon, he’d be able to take to the sky, but Horror feared he may be too late.

Reaper was swifter.

By the time Horror reached the tree top home, it was too late. 

Reaper had taken you away. 

No.

Horror wouldn’t allow it. 

Not again. 

…the nest was empty.

This treetop home no longer felt like home, without his mate.

[wolffe-simp]

Heart Of A Wolf

This is just a random thought I had and may make it into a series, not sure yet but I hope you enjoy. This is a 3am thing, so it may not be as good as it could be.

Translation :

Evaar'la wolf means young wolf

Buir means Father

Jedi Master Plo Koon must face the past when an unexpected arrival at the Jedi Temple causes certain events to unfold and Commander Wolffe is entrusted with his Generals most important possession.

The force works in mysterious ways, it lives in every creature, big and small, taking many shapes and forms among the vast populations of living organisms. But it was not the force that had brought you to the Jedi temple on Coruscant, it was fear of the darkness that had followed you halfway across the universe, nipping at your heels as you ran away. Everything that had been, everything you knew was gone, now ashes on a planet that many had overlooked and forgotten.

Ever since you had landed on Coruscant, you had made your way to the temple, your mind focused on one task, to find the one person who would be able to help you in your time of need. Now you stood, staring up at the towering structure of the Jedi Temple, the setting sun bathing its stone walls in a warm glow, like a beacon of light, like a beacon of hope. Taking a deep breath, you made your way over to some temple guards who were stationed at the entrance, they watched you as you approached, observing your every movement to ensure you weren't a threat.

"Sorry, but no civilians are allowed inside the temple without permission from the Jedi or other personnel." One stated when you stopped in front of them.

"I've heard, but I need to find someone. A Jedi who has this emblem,its important." You replied, pulling a small necklace from your pocket, a wolf head pendent dangling from the chain.

The guards seemed slightly taken aback by the sight of the necklace, they shared a look between each other, seeming to have a silent conversation before finally moving to let you pass. Two of them followed alongside you as you entered the temple, leading you down a few halls, already you had lost your way and you wondered how they remembered what hall led to where. You received many looks from passersby, temple workers, clones and even a few Jedi themselves. After a while, the guards stopped you outside a pair of double doors, asking you to stay put while they went inside to sort things out.

You watched as they disappeared, shuffling awkwardly in the empty corridor, alone once again. You turned to the open windows, deciding to sit on the ledge of one while you waited, the city of Coruscant spread out before your eyes. It was so different to what you had known, there were no open fields of green, no birdsongs to coax you from sleep, no rushing rivers to guide you home when you lost your path. It made you feel small, as if you were a child again but now you did feel lost, lost in the vastness of the galaxy.

It seemed like forever when the doors of the room finally slid open, you expected the guards to come out and tell you to leave but instead, you were greeted by the figure of a Kel Dor. You slowly got up from your seat, nervously playing with the necklace in your pocket , you opened and closed your mouth, trying to find something to say. Yet you couldn't find your voice, eyes downcast to stare at the floor as if were suddenly the most interesting thing in the galaxy. Did he remember you? Was he even aware of who you were? or of where you came from. Would he even believe you? You were so conflicted, your mind was too loud for you to even think clearly, every thought making your chest tighten with fear and anxiety.

"Evaar'la wolf"

The words made tears well in your eyes, the memory of the name spoken softly to you as a child suddenly swam in your mind, a younger version of yourself clinging to the side of the Kel Dor as you drifted to sleep.

"Buir." You whimpered, flinging yourself at him, arms winding around his waist in an embrace.

Despite being watched, Plo Koon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as you cried softly into his chest. It had been many years since he had seen you, many years since he had left you in the care of your mother to continue his life as a Jedi. He remembered the few times he had seen you, never truly having a stable presence in your life. You were two by the time he first held you and you were five when he had last held you in his arms and you had cried like you did now, clinging to him like he would suddenly vanish and he had. He always wished you would understand why he had done what he had once you had grown. Now you were here, a young woman, as beautiful as her mother. Your lack of resemblance to him had always put him at ease, making him hope you could have a peaceful life without being ridiculed by some for being the child of two species. You were Mandalorian, like your mother, but you had his heart and spirit.

"Come now, young one."

He kept his voice soft as he let you go, guiding you into the room he had been occupying only moments before. You huddled into his side, greeted by the eyes of a few clones and what looked like two other Jedi. Plo Koon took you over to a create for you to sit on, along with two clones wearing grey and white armour, they were two of three that wore it, the last standing not so far away. You sniffled softly, feeling your father wipe away a few of your tears before turning his attention to the others in the room.

"Obi-wan, Anakin. If I may ask, would you do me the favour of rescheduling the meeting until tomorrow morning?"

"Of course Master Plo, I believe more important matters need to be tended to." Obi-wan replied, bowing his head respectfully before leaving the room with the Anakin and their clones.

The other clones stayed, looking towards their general for orders to leave but none came, so they were left to watch as Master Plo Koon crouched in front of the girl that had called him father. The clones were use to the caring side of their general, he treated them equally and fairly, making them feel like they were more than just numbers from a cloning facility. Yet it felt different now, as if he was treading in uncertain territory.

"You are a long way from home, young one."

"Home is gone father." Your voice trembled as you spoken, filled with sadness. "Its all gone, home, mother, everything."

"What happened?" One of the clones asked, his hair cut into two rows, savage scars running down the right side of his face and his amber eyes watching you closely.

Silence feel over the room, the words dying in your throat. You didn't know how to explain it, maybe they would think it was all your fault and your father would hate you for getting your mother killed. You knew the laws of the Jedi about attachments but you knew he cared for your mother nonetheless. You didn't want your father to see you like this, weak and broken, you weren't a damsel in distress but you needed him now more than ever.

"It started with the nightmares, mother said it was just my imagination running wild. I saw the forests set ablaze, the animals trapped among the flames, mother calling for me and then everything fading into nothingness, it all felt so real. It was the same dream, every night until my name day. Instead of the normal dream, a wolf came to me, telling me it was time to embrace my destiny and to allow the force to guide me down the path presented to me. It was the same day the separatist invaded our home, searching for something."

They listened to every word you said, even though you didn't go into detail, they were able to understood what had happened, Plo Koon more than the clones.

"It is possible, that a spirit of the force was able to contact you and warn you of the coming danger." Plo Koon hummed.

He stood up, stroking his masked chin in thought as he paced for a moment. To attack your home, to attack you and your mother in a place so far from the war was a concerning matter, one be would have to bring to the council as he sensed something else was at play. Right now, he was just happy that you were alive and thanked the force that you had found him.

"Commander Wolffe, I require a audience with the council. I trust you to keep my daughter safe until further notice."

"Yes General." The clone in question nodded briskly, saluting your father.

You shared a look with your father, knowing the unvoiced question and nodding. You would be fine without him for a few more hours, you had commander Wolffe to look after you so hopefully no harm would befall you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Within the long hours you spent with Wolffe after your fathers departure, you had managed to become quite close with the other two clones, Boost and Sinker. They had made it their mission to ensure you felt better, every small giggle of smile encouraging them to do better until your mind was rid of the thoughts that invaded your mind. Sometimes, they would get to far with their jokes and almost hurt themselves or potentially you, which meant Wolffe would have to intervene and tell them to reel it in.

Eventually, the two headed off to what they called 79's while Wolffe took you to his office to he could keep an eye on you while he finished some work. Sinker and Boost had invited you to go along with them but Wolffe declined their offer for you as he didn't want you to be overwhelmed with the likely bombardment of questions from other clones after his drunk Vod let loose that you are Master Plo Koon's daughter.

You sat in the chair opposite Wolffe, looking around at his plain, bland office with a look of empathy, you had heard of how badly clones were treated. He was a soldier and yet, he couldn't even get a decent office because of how people looked down on him. You sighed softly, crossing your legs and adjusting yourself in your chair, trying to keep yourself somewhat entertains now Sinker and Boost were no longer around.

"I like your scar."

Wolffe looked at you in shock, he was halfway through one of his datapads. He had suspected there would be some small talk, but he hadn't expected you to make a statement as bold as that, especially about the one thing he himself, felt very subconscious about.

"Thank you." He mumbled in return. "Though, it scares a few people."

"Of course it scares them." You scoffed. "The people who sit back and relax while you fight their war, are scared by your sacrifice to make their world a better place."

Wolffe stared, from the crying girl he had met only hours ago, you had suddenly become another version of his general. He hadn't expected you to be so caring towards him despite the reason you had ended up here. He could still seen the pain in your eyes but he could also see a small spark, hidden deep in the depths of your iris. He had been sceptical of you at first, merely out of wanting to protect his general and his brothers from a possible trap from the separatists, after all, you could be someone in disguise, the Jedi had done something similar themselves with Kenobi.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Wolffe reassured you, gracing you with a rare half smile. "Not many see us the way you and Master Plo do."

"Dad has always seen people for who they are, rather than what they are. Life is the right of all beings after all, we have no control over how we are created so we shouldn't be judged by our places of origin."

"Whats your place of origin?" Wolffe asked before he could stop himself.

"My origins are a planet far from here, where a Mandalorian went to hid from her people, outcasted and branded a witch for her shapeshifting ability. A woman who saved a Kel Dor from a crashed ship and nursed him back to heal and in return, he gifted her a child, so she would no longer be alone. A child with the heart of a wolf and the spirit of a Jedi."

You smiled at one another, continuing to chat into the late ours of the night, talking about anything that came to mind. Eventually, you fell asleep in your chair while Wolffe explained a story about how Boost had eaten a spicy fruit from of of the planets they had visited. Wolffe chuckled softly at your sleeping form, moving to scoop you up in his arms. He carried you bridal style to his general quarters and tucked you into bed, knowing Master Plo Koon will be a few hours more and would likely take the couch. Until Plo Koon arrived, Wolffe took a chair and sat it outside the door, his blaster in hand, ready for any threat that might come for you.

[fairyoftbz]

Tournesol | Changmin

🌻 pairing: shy florist!changmin x fem!reader (briefs mentions of barista!Jacob & tattoo artist!Kevin) 🌻 genre: fluff, slow-burn, strangers-to-lovers (?) 🌻 word count: 3.1k 🌻 synopsis: you are new in town so you decide to explore a bit of your neighbourhood. You never knew that the flower shop down your street would change your life in a good way.  🌻 requested? : yes, thank you so much! ✨ 🌻 A/N: here comes my first ever post for my first personal project! thank you to the anon who requested this and i hope you’ll like it! constructive feedback is always welcomed in my dms or my asks!  I will write the English translation of the French word I used in that way. PS: If anyone wants to be tagged on my future posts for this project, please let me know !!

Locking the front door of the brand-new apartment you had just moved into, you pulled down your light coat’s sleeve after dropping your keys in your little cross-body bag. You walked down the few flights of stairs that separated you from the entrance hall, quickly checking if you had any mail and walked out the door as it was found empty.

Today was your lucky day because the wind stopped blowing right before you woke up, and the sun decided to show up as you were enjoying your breakfast, making you finish it on the little balcony right outside your living room. You couldn’t ask for a better start of the day, the light mood and warm atmosphere bringing nothing but a huge smile on your face.

You greeted the old lady with a wave and a bow as she was swiping the entrance of the bakery, wishing her a great day as you kept your route.

__

Two weeks ago, as you were moving in, the baker happened to be with her son and some of his friends, and instead of helping her serve the bakery customers, she sent them over to your place as she knew who you were, since you visited her place in a rush the day before. She seemed to have the gift of the gab because she was quick to ask if you were new around the neighbourhood. You remember being surprised by her behaviour and politely answered, but you were glad that you had this conversation with her. You weren’t even halfway through your move that the 4 boys appeared in the entrance hall, offering their help. Feeling a bit suspicious at first, you kindly refused, but when one of them offered you a smile extremely similar to the baker and introduced himself as her son, you finally gave in and accepted their help.  

The amount of time you had planned for your move got reduced by almost three thanks to them. They followed your orders like no one else, and once they were done moving the boxes around the rooms and left, you quickly went to the local convenience store you had spotted at the other street corner and bought 4 bottles and some chocolate for them. You walked by the bakery the following day, and the son happened to work here, replacing his mother while she was at a doctor’s appointment. He was touched by your small gifts, and he made sure to call his friends to come over and get them while you slipped away from the bakery to go to IKEA. Before you got to leave, he advised you to take a few walks around the neighbourhood to get to know your surroundings. You wished you could have followed his advice earlier, but you were busy with moving in and get ready for your interviews that could lead you to potential jobs.

But today was the weekend and you decided to take some time for yourself and follow the advice of the baker's son. It was a beautiful day, and you had planned to make the most of it to get familiar with your neighbourhood.

__

Your area was surprisingly calm to be in the middle of the city, but you weren’t going to complain since it was something you were dying to have: a friendly, quiet neighbourhood. The nice smell of the bakery lingered around you as you walked past the building, following you until you turned at a corner, leading you to a new, unknown street. Some shop windows were beautifully decorated, and you mentally took some notes of the various local shops that could become potentially useful one day. You walked past a china shop, staying for a few seconds to admire the detailed and precise work displayed in the window display. Offering a smile to the young lady inside the store, you walked away and looked around, noticing something that caught your attention on the opposite pavement. You quickly checked as no car drove by and crossed the street, smiling as two shops were the polar opposite of the other. The flower shop in front of you was sweet, it smelt delicate and chic, just like flowers. The walls were covered by some off-white roughcast, adding a soft touch to it.

A few meters away, on the left of the flower shop, was a tattoo parlour. You giggled as you noticed the cliche that emanated from the two places. The parlour was covered in black, with a Gothic, biker style, posters of metal and rock music pasted around the walls, hardcore music blasting from the speakers, completely contrasting with the softness and the sobriety of the flower shop. A tattoo artist appeared behind the counter that was situated next to the window and your eyes widened, trying to quickly count the number of tattoos and piercings that was decorating his body. A single front piece of hair was dyed blond among the other jet-black strands, his warm smile standing out from the rest of his physical appearance.

You turned your head to the side as you focused on the flower shop, its atmosphere suiting you better despite the next-door shop spiking up your interest. You smiled at the yellow Beetle parked in front of it and pushed the door open after a few seconds of consideration, a small bell tingling as it hit the glass door.

The smell of pollen and freshly cut flowers welcomed you in, the intensity of the colours making you slightly dazed. They were all gorgeous, the arrangements giving you an impulsion to buy a bouquet of each flower they had in store, but that would never happen.

“Welcome!” a voice from under the counter greeted you, a man appearing behind it a few seconds later, secateurs in hand. You smiled as you greeted him back, charmed by how similar he was to his store, soft and friendly. He stayed behind the counter, watching you walk around his shop, all of his other activities and tasks were instantly forgotten as soon as you stepped a foot inside his store.

Changmin was amazed by your smile, finding you incredibly beautiful, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight of your admiring smile creeping across your lips. He was dying to talk to you and get to know you, but he knew himself, he was most likely going to make a fool of himself if he ever dared to exchange some words with you. He was already pleasantly surprised that he had managed to welcome you without getting in a muddle or stumbling on his words.

With a slightly shaking hand, he diagonally cut the end of the red roses resting on the counter. He couldn’t help but glance at you, which you didn't notice, luckily for him. However, by paying too much attention to you and your gorgeous smile, he began to cut the stems a little too rapidly and too high, alas once pinching a piece of skin between the pruning blades, making him jump in pain and let go of the gardening tool. Changmin stifled a groan of pain and rushed into the back office, looking for the first aid kit. He hurriedly found a sticking plaster and wrapped it around his cut, pressing on the wound to ease the pain and get back to work as quickly as possible.

As he reappeared in the doorway that separated the back office from the front office, he heard the bell above the door chime again, signalling your departure.

His shoulders subsided and he watched you walk away with a disappointed pout. He sighed in sadness and pushed the roses away, nervousness and guilt fuelling his mind and regrets.

"Shit," he sighed, picking up the wilted petals of a few roses that were littered on the floor, shoving them into the front pocket of his apron. He blamed himself for not having spoken to you to at least know your name. Quickly, Changmin walked around the counter to door, showing the “now-closed” store sign as remorse flooded his veins. He let his feet guide every single one of his moves, now finding himself in the storeroom. He took a pencil and his notebook sticking out of his bag before returning to the counter.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember your face and began a sketch. He erased a line, then two, then several, feeling the frustration overcome him as the portrait did not correspond to what he had seen a few minutes earlier at all. Changmin had a perfect image of you in his mind, but maybe the stress of forgetting you or his shaking hands prevented him from replicating your gorgeous face on paper.

Completely unaware of what was going on behind those four walls, you kept on walking around the neighbourhood until your feet hurt and decided to go back to your apartment.

__

The next morning you enjoyed the rays of sunlight that your curtains had failed to filter for a few minutes, smiling shyly as you remembered seeing the florist appearing in your dreams. He was here, you recognised his face, but you couldn't hear what he was saying. He sounded extremely sincere and filled with love, but it was probably just your lonely mind playing tricks on you. You decided to get up, a sudden urge for pastry invading your thoughts, your stomach growling at the sudden idea. After dressing appropriately for going out, you walked through your doorstep and walked leisurely to your favourite bakery. The baker was sitting on a chair on the small terrace of her shop, sipping tea with who appeared to be her husband.

"Morning Sir. Ma'am," you bowed, greeting them warmly, the baker hurriedly setting down her tea mug to gently grab your wrist. "Dear, this is the young lady Jacob and his friends helped move in the brick building, around the street corner that I told you about. Remember that?" she explained to her husband, who took the time to swallow his sip while nodding. "Ah, the bottle of wine and the chocolate," he says looking at you and you smiled, as it was your turn to nod. "That's right," you stated, holding out your hand for him to squeeze, which he did delicately. “Thanks again,” you told them, and the baker waved her hand in front of her face, a genuine smile on her face. "Oh please, don’t worry about it, it's okay," she declared, and you thanked them again before entering their bakery. Jacob was behind the counter chatting with an old lady who seemed to waylay him. He noticed you and apologised to her, seeing him sigh before greeting you. Jacob was a sweet man, always ready to help everyone and too nice to say no. Talking and getting to know him was a piece of cake, he was so nice to hang out with and a gem to have around.

"Y/N, hello! What can I get you?" he offered you a beautiful smile, which he got from his mother, noticing another time the striking similarity with the old woman on the terrace. "I'm going to get a baguette and one of those," you say, pointing at a pain au chocolat sprinkled with powdered sugar in the little window that separated you from the young man. He smiled and grabbed a metal clamp, placing the pastry in a paper bag. Typing a few things on the machine, you handed him a banknote and he gave you back the change, along with your pastries. You thanked him and started to leave when a familiar figure stood at a table against the window.

Changmin was quietly drinking his coffee when he heard a conversation start from outside the window. He almost spat out the liquid he had in his mouth when he saw you talking with the owners of the bakery, his eyes widening at the sight of you. He pursed his lips to stifle a smile and continued to drink his coffee, tapping on his phone screen. His heart was hammering harder, faster, in his chest as he tried to keep a low profile, lowering his head in case you were to curiously look around the place. He sighed through gritted teeth when he heard your complicity with Jacob, feeling a touch of jealousy pinching his heart without intending to. Changmin nervously finished his cup of coffee in one sip, the warm liquid burning his throat, not bothering looking up. Stuffing his phone in his jacket pocket, he was ready to go when he saw you still in the store, immediately freezing as his brown eyes met your sparkling ones.

"Hello!" you told him with a smile, waving discreetly with one hand while the other clutched the brown bag against you. He blinked several times, your beauty and kindness bouncing around his skull. He answered you with a brief, serious nod and walked away without even saying goodbye to his friend behind the counter. You watched him leave out the window before turning to Jacob, who was looking at you with a thin smile on his lips. "Did I say something wrong?" you asked him, and he exhaled a laugh through his nose, shaking his head from side to side. "Not at all. Changmin is just a very shy person sometimes," he said, and you nodded, still a bit confused from the florist's behaviour, but you said nothing and walked out of the store after wishing for a good day to Jacob. The latter smiled as you walked in the opposite direction from Changmin, greeting another customer as he understood his friend’s behaviour.

__

A week passed and it was time for you to start your new job. You had used up a good chunk of your last salary to pay for furniture and taxes which you barely remembered the names of, so you needed to have a new entrance of income. You applied to a real estate agency that wasn't far from where you live, as a financial chief director, exactly what you worked at in your previous city. You had to walk past the florist to get to your new workplace, but the florist was the only closed shop on the whole street, which surprised you. You had the opportunity to talk a little more with Jacob, and he had confessed to you that Changmin loved his job and was a flower enthusiast, which confirmed your concern when you didn't see his store open.

A smile grew on your face at the end of the day, when you took the same path as this morning, seeing the shop illuminated. When you had assembled your furniture, you remembered that you wanted to decorate your apartment with more greenery and flowers. Seizing the opportunity that the florist was still open, you pushed open that same door you had walked through a few weeks ago, the same wonderful smell and tinkling bell welcoming you inside.

You noticed a brown chunk of hair behind a large, flowered wall, immediately recognising Changmin's slender figure. You heard him clear his throat as he hummed a tune, arranging a bouquet.

Changmin heard a customer walk into his store and finished his bouquet of sunflowers and red roses before revealing himself, his eyes opening widely as he discovered your innocent smile and your office outfit. The pencil skirt and beige suit you wore made his heart fuzzy with warmth, his mind only filled with how pretty you looked.

“Good evening,” you greeted him, and he nodded, swallowing his saliva before answering you. "Welcome," he said, his husky, uncertain voice melting your heart. He managed to smile, finding dimples growing in the corners of his mouth, he was handsome when he was smiling with reddened ears. "I would like to know if you have any flowers or plants to recommend to decorate my apartment," you clear your throat before telling him your request. "May I ask the colour of your walls?" he asked in a hesitant voice, looking everywhere around the shop except you. "White, cream, and some in greyish tones as well," you explained and he nodded mechanically, looking through his stock.

"I can suggest you some dried pampas grass with cotton stems. It's... quite sober and low maintenance," he walked around the counter and you followed, his hands grabbing a few stems which he gathered under your nose. You liked the harmony of the two plants, you already had an idea where to put these at your place. "I like them a lot, I'll take a bouquet," you stated, and he nodded, giving you a small smile as he walked over to the cash register. He remained motionless for a few seconds, his finger hovering above a key. You saw him take a deep breath before disappearing into the back office, making you frown for an instant.

Changmin reappeared a few seconds later and you looked at him in shock, expecting everything but this. He held out an arrangement of sunflowers and roses in front of you, the warm tones of yellow and red reminding you of the summer warmth.

"It's for you," he said, holding your gaze, the tips of his ears turning a crimson red. You remained a few seconds dumbfounded in front of the bouquet, not knowing what to do. "For me? But in what honour? I don't deserve it," you stated but he insisted with a nod, so you shyly took the bouquet and gave him a big smile, your heart pounding. "That's so sweet, thank you very much," you told him, plunging your nose into the flowers, the scent of the two flowers blending beautifully together. He seemed to be breathing again when he discovered pure happiness in your eyes, giving you a big smile as well.

“You are as radiant as a sunflower, I�� I wanted to gift you some,” he confessed, and you were touched by his words. “And the red roses… well, I don't think I should draw you a picture,” his voice trailed, and you were both embarrassed, but you could still feel some connection emerge between you two. Looking at the flowers again, you noticed a small card hanging at the base of the bouquet, and you flipped it to read it.

"A date to celebrate my arrival here?" you asked, surprised he knew this information about you. "Only if you want to, of course. I accidentally overheard your discussion with Mr and Mrs Bae, I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to show you around the city," he scratched the back of his neck, an embarrassed look painted on his face, apprehensive about your reaction. "With great pleasure," he looked up and sighed in relief, making you smile at his behaviour. "Saturday morning in front of the bakery, is that okay with you?" "It's perfect." He smiled while nodding, his brown eyes lingering into yours for seconds that seemed to last forever, but he didn't feel so intimidated anymore.

He almost felt confident, and that only sounded promising for the days to come.

[imjustdreamingig]

lucy pevensie's secret

lucy pevensie was sad, quite miserable actually. she never let it show, especially in front of her siblings. she wasn't called queen lucy the valiant for nothing.

if the only way she could prevent her siblings from being consumed by grief was by concealing her own emotions about their sudden departure from narnia with laughter and a toothless grin, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

and so she did.

lucy felt as though her emotions and feelings about their current situation weren't as valid as the others, especially peter's. he was ripped away from his country and as if that weren't punishment enough, he was forced back into a body of a child.

where before he was looked up to, now he was looked down upon. where before people would travel for days to listen with rapt attention to every word that came out of the high king's mouth, whatever words he said now were considered childish and with no actual meaning. they were brushed off as easily as brushing snow off of ones coat.

the weight of the country that used to sit heavy on peter's shoulders should now be nonexistent as he no longer has a country to run. however, even though narnia was so far away, he could still feel the remnants of its weight, a feeling that he had quickly gotten used to during he and his siblings successful 15 year reign.

peter would often embrace this familiar feeling and seek comfort in it, as it was the only thing he had that made him feel as though he was back home. a place where he had a purpose, where his subjects asked him for advice, where his soldiers looked to him for reassurance before charging into battle.

sometimes when peter awoke from a fitful night of sleep, for a blissful moment it felt as though he was back in narnia and not in the dreadful prison known to the rest of us as england. once he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and the fruitless attempt of remembering last nights dream was over, he'd open his eyes, take in his surroundings, realize where he was and cry.

he'd cry and cry, sobs wracking and shaking his body, eyes squeezed shut with tears leaking rapidly down his red, splotched cheeks. his fists would clench the sheets of his still unmade bed and he'd desperately try to keep in the whimpers that tried to escape past his lips, in case any of his siblings heard the noises coming from his bedroom.

still it wasn't enough, because lucy always heard. whenever she heard the muffled cries coming from peter's room, her first instinct was to rush in there, pull him in for a hug and never let go.

she knew him better though. she knew that his pride would get in the way and that he would be ashamed of himself for letting his youngest sibling see him in such a state. narnia or not, peter was still high king and he would always put his family before himself, even if it meant burying his feelings deep inside him and guarding them for the time being, acknowledging them only when he knew he would be left alone.

lucy knew and understood this, so instead for the sake of her family, although it was difficult at first, she pushed back her own thoughts and channeled all her bravery in the form of a smile.

she'd tell a joke to distract susan from the fact that she was no longer able to braid her hair the way she wanted to, because her once floor length hair she adored very much was now gone.

she'd make a funny face or ask a ridiculous question every time edmund saw a advertisement for turkish delight, so he didn't succumb to the nasty feelings that arose whenever he saw anything that reminded him of the white witch.

she'd grasp peter's hand and drag him along to pick some wild flowers she'd seen in the back garden to help soothe his anger whenever he saw something that reminded him of the great lion aslan. peter sometimes felt that it was the lion's fault they were all stuck in a place they no longer called home, in small bodies they've long since outgrown.

everyday, lucy willingly placed a smile on her face to make everyones transition back into england a little less difficult. but if anyone stopped and looked just a little bit closer, they wouldn't find laughter laying behind lucy's brilliant blue eyes whenever she smiled. instead, they'd find them to be filled with grief, mourning, and sadness.

although she made sure none of her siblings noticed, she grieved the loss of her adult body and her friends, mr. tumnus, the beavers, the dryads and the mermaids.

she was filled with sadness each time she remembered the feeling of the soft, lush grass beneath her toes, and how the light breeze used to flow gently through her hair, carrying the delicious scent of earth and life whenever she'd let it engulf her body.

most of all, lucy mourned the loss of her country, her people, her home. every night she would pray to Aslan and beg for him to send them back into narnia, where she felt free and at peace, if not for her then for her siblings, for peter. they didn't belong, england clearly would never become a home for them anymore.

every night she pleaded this of him, but every day that passed where they didn't return, the flame of hope that burned in her heart slowly grew weaker and smaller. she hoped she had enough strength to keep this flame roaring and alive as long as she could.

deep down on some level, lucy strongly believed that one day they might have a chance to return home. she didn't know when or where or how of course, but she did know that Aslan had a plan for them and she trusted him. so she continued to have faith in him.

which is why every morning when she went downstairs for breakfast, although life had given her plenty of reasons to let a frown grace her lips, she plastered on a smile as she greeted each member of her family with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

for the sake of susan, peter, edmund, and herself, she chose to laugh instead of cry.

[fangirlandiknowit101]

Here's the sad pining sasuke i wrote last night... it's not finished and who knows when/if i'll finish it. university AU, not edited and there's some naru//hina and sasuke//OC bc i couldn't think of a canon character that fit. The texting part is also weird bc i wrote it all very fast lol. i'm sharing bc why not *shrugs*

xxx

It hurts, to look at them.

Sasuke can’t help himself. Naruto is his best friend, after all, and he’s not yet so desperate that he’ll avoid him. It’s worse, somehow, that he can’t even dislike her.

She’s good for him, he thinks, when he’s feeling particularly self-deprecating. Her hair is dark and her skin pale as porcelain, and that’s where the similarities end between him and Hinata.

Sweet, and so patient with Naruto. Soft-spoken, but not a pushover. Impeccably dressed, always, no make-up needed to outshine any girl beside her. A picture perfect couple, that’s what they are. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to watch it unfold from the front row.

How her shyness turned to surety, how her eyes would catch on Naruto and look away before, but now – now she looks at him like he belongs to her, soft smile on her plump lips.

Sasuke can’t even hate her, and he wishes he could.

It’s not her fault that Sasuke is the way he is. She doesn’t know, isn’t doing it on purpose. And yet, there’s a stab to Sasuke’s chest every time she takes his hand, every time Naruto tucks her silky hair behind her perfect ear.

Naruto will kiss her cheek and Sasuke will be looking, always looking. His face devoid of emotion, his voice carefully neutral. He can’t be mean to Naruto’s girlfriend, though he wishes he could. Maybe if Naruto got mad at him and pushed him away, Sasuke would be free to move on.

It’s more likely that Sasuke would apologize and do better, and he’d rather spare himself the embarrassment.

Sometimes he imagines that Hinata will find out, that she’ll start treating him with suspicion, watch his every move with her wide eyes. Feel threatened by him. But Sasuke is no threat. He’s tired and hurting, but he’s not a homewrecker. It would be a lot easier if Naruto didn’t keep nudging him in Sakura’s direction.

It’s not Sakura’s fault, either. She’s dreaming of something she can’t have, and the similarities make him sick to his stomach.

Sometimes he thinks he’ll date her, live the lie to the fullest. Give her what she wants, since he’s doomed anyway. He doubts he’d last long, though. If he had even the slightest bit of interest in women – but when he looks at her, there’s just no attraction. He’s not sure how no one’s noticed yet. It’s not like he’s that good of an actor. He thinks the only reason no one’s figured it out is because he’s so deep in the closet, and they’re all so heterosexual. Why would they suspect he’s gay? It suits them better if he isn’t.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was that late already,” Sakura says beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The bar is lively around them, but the music is at a bearable noise level. She’s looking at her phone, frowning. On the other side of the small table, Naruto pouts.

“It’s not late!” he objects, the beer in his glass sloshing around as he waves his hands around. “We just got here!”

“We’ve been here for three hours, I think,” Hinata says, leaning her cheek on his shoulder.

Sasuke wonders how she manages, the way he moves around so much. Perhaps her body is as soft as her voice, easily following him.

“I told you I have to get up early tomorrow.” Sakura sighs, irritated. She fishes her bag up from the floor, putting her phone inside it. “I really have to get going.”

“I’ll walk you to the station,” Sasuke offers. Not because he particularly wants to, but he’s not in the mood to subject himself to third-wheeling Naruto and Hinata. “I should get going, anyway.”

“What?” Naruto looks disappointed, more disappointed than when Sakura announced her departure. “I thought you were free tomorrow.”

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke swallows down the last of his drink.

“Doesn’t mean I want to stay up all night,” he counters with, easing out of the booth. “I still have to study.”

“You study too much,” Naruto mutters, giving Hinata a smile like an afterthought when she squeezes his arm.

“Maybe if you studied at all you wouldn’t need to panic before every exam,” Sakura nags at him, coming around the table to wait next to Sasuke. “Some of us care about our grades.”

“Nerds.” At least Naruto looks a little happier, and Sasuke hates to think that it’s because he thinks anything’s going to happen between him and Sakura. “Don’t get lost, you two!”

They say their goodbyes, and Sasuke tries to pretend he doesn’t notice how Sakura’s cheeks fill with color when they step outside the bar. She’s put a jacket on, but Sasuke’s fine in his sweater. It’s not cold enough that her blush can be blamed on the weather.

“Thanks for walking me,” she says, hefting her bag higher up her shoulder. She’d joined them straight from the library, researching her latest paper. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” he tells her, hands tucked into his sleeves.

He doesn’t want to run the risk of her attempting to reach for his hand. As much as he dislikes her attention, it’s safer if she thinks he’s just playing hard to get. He won’t have to explain, then, why he hasn’t outright told her to give up. He should, he knows. But Naruto would just nudge him towards some other girl, would bother him about it until Sasuke started going on actual dates. It’s touching, how worried he is over Sasuke potentially being lonely.

Too bad Naruto himself is the cause of it.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow, then?” Sakura asks, stepping aside as they meet a group of half-drunk businessmen. “I’m working until five…”

It would be so easy to invite her out. To suggest a movie, or trying out that new café near campus. To watch her eyes light up with hope, watch her mouth stretch into an excited smile.

“I really do need to study,” he says. “And I’m almost out of clean clothes.”

None of it is a lie, technically. He’s just not sure he’ll actually do either of those things tomorrow.

“Oh.”

She tries to hide her disappointment, and Sasuke is an expert by now at pretending he doesn’t notice. They walk the rest of the way in silence, waving a quick goodbye at the ticket gates as Sakura’s train is due to arrive in just two minutes. Sasuke buys a drink from a vending machine and takes small sips as he waits for his own, mindlessly scrolling through social media. He almost ignores the text Naruto sends.

> Wanna hang out tomorrow?

He contemplates it. On the one hand, yes, of course he wants to. On the other, having an entire day to himself has its appeal.

> I’ll be busy

> Ooh, with sakura?

The train arrives, and Sasuke snags a seat next to a couple too caught up with each other to pay attention to him.

> No

> Got studying and laundry to do

The reply is instant.

> That’s too boring!!! I’m coming over for lunch

> Whatever

He pockets his phone, and stares down at the bottle in his hands for the rest of the trip. It doesn’t help against the warmth rising in his chest. At least he doesn’t do this to Sakura – doesn’t invite himself into her space, ignorant of her feelings. It doesn’t make him feel better.

xxx

Sasuke doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s got Naruto, and then there’s his small group of friends from high school. Naruto is the only one who still lives nearby. Rather, Sasuke had ended up staying in Konoha like him. It’s a big enough city that most of his classmates are strangers, although slightly less so in their second year. He stayed with his parents for his first year, but when one of his cousins moved abroad for work he took the opportunity to stay at her apartment instead. It’s closer to his university, and if he, potentially, wanted to bring a guy home then no one would know.

He doesn’t think his parents would mind, but there wouldn’t be any privacy. He relishes in it, and Naruto does, too.

“I should just move in with you,” Naruto groans, spread out on his couch. “You wouldn’t believe how annoying my mom was this morning.”

“I think I can believe it,” Sasuke tells him, cleaning up after their lunch. “And just to be clear, I’ve never said you’d be welcome to live here.”

“Stingy,” Naruto grumbles. “How long is your cousin gone, anyway?”

Shrugging, Sasuke dries off the counter just for something to do with his hands.

“A year at least. We’ll see. So it’s not like I’ll be living here forever.”

“But still!”

“Where would you even sleep?”

Naruto happily pats the couch. When Sasuke scowls at him, he simply grins.

“Come on,” Naruto says. “I want to watch a movie.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I need to study.”

Still, he gives in too easily. Naruto lifts his legs to give him room, dumping them all over Sasuke’s lap once he sits down. It’s things like this that makes Sasuke’s heart refuse to give up. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, cheekbone pressed to his closed fist. He doesn’t say anything when Naruto picks a drama at random, letting him comment on the plot as much as he wants. Watching movies with Naruto is certainly never quiet, and he winces as Naruto kicks his legs as he shouts his anger at the main character.

When the movie ends, Naruto doesn’t start a new one. Instead he chews on his bottom lip, playing with the remote. Sasuke considers getting up to use the toilet, maybe suggesting going to the corner store for snacks, but then Naruto clears his throat suspiciously.

“What?” he asks, irritated when Naruto takes his time.

“So, how are things going with Sakura?”

He resists the urge to pinch his nose. He still lets out a heavy breath, not quite a sigh but close enough that Naruto frowns.

“I mean,” Naruto continues, “you could just ask her out. She’s definitely going to say yes.”

Sasuke shifts, uncomfortable. Naruto’s legs are still on top of his. His socks have little frogs on them.

“I’ve told you I’m not really into the idea of a relationship right now.”

“Uh-huh.” Naruto rolls his eyes, pushing himself up and finally removing his legs, crossing them at the ankles instead. “Sounds like excuses to me.”

“Just drop it, Naruto.”

“But if you get together things will be so much easier,” Naruto insists, poking at his arm. “We can go on double dates, and stuff.”

Sending him a glare, Sasuke pulls a leg up to his chest. It won’t prevent Naruto if he decides to get comfy on his lap again, but it might make him think twice at least. Naruto’s only wearing shorts, and all that naked skin isn’t good for his heart. It’s definitely too cold for it, but Naruto’s never been one to care about the weather.

“We already go places together.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same!”

Sasuke pinches his lips, looking away. If he’s not careful, those large blue eyes will convince him to cave in, and then he’ll find himself with a girlfriend. He does a lot for Naruto, but there are limits.

“I’m not going to ask her out,” he mutters, knowing it will only lead to more questioning.

Sure enough, Naruto makes a noise of protest.

“But you haven’t rejected her either!”

“She hasn’t asked me out either.”

“It’s obvious she likes you.”

“That’s her problem.”

Naruto kicks at his thigh, using his heel. He looks properly annoyed now, as if Sasuke is a petulant child, refusing to do what’s best for him.

“If you got over yourself for a minute, you’d realize what a catch she is!”

He doesn’t reply. Let Naruto think he’s just stubborn, or an asshole, or whatever. Let him think Sasuke’s just stringing her along, keeping her attention while refusing to commit. It’s better than the alternative.

“Leave it, Naruto,” he warns, getting up and moving to the kitchen. “We’re not talking about this.”

At least Naruto doesn’t follow him, though it doesn’t make much of a difference. The apartment is small, no wall separating the kitchen from the living room. He searches through his cabinets, locating a forgotten bag of wasabi peas. He throws them at Naruto’s head.

“Eat these and shut up,” he says.

To his relief, Naruto does as told.

xxx

He picks up the call from Karin half-distracted, mind still stuck on a question for tomorrow’s seminar. As usual, she doesn’t wait for him to say hi, making her wince with the volume of her voice.

“Do you have any idea how tiring it is to listen to Naruto whine about you?” she starts with, the background noise suggesting she’s outdoors. “Can’t you just tell him you’re gay and put me out of my misery.”

“No thanks.” He drops his pen on his desk, rubbing at his eyes. He regrets not going to the university library, at least then he wouldn’t have been able to pick up the call. “Was that all? I’m kind of busy.”

“You know, this is exactly why I moved away,” she continues, ignoring him. “I thought I could get away from all the high school-level drama. Just get yourself a boyfriend, and go on those stupid double dates my cousin is so desperately yearning for. How hard can it be?!”

He can feel a headache incoming, and he rubs his fingertips between his brows. Naruto had sulked for hours the day before, until Sasuke got sick of it and threw him out. It was definitely backhanded of him to call Karin and complain.

“If you really wanted to be left out of it, why are you calling me? That’s the opposite of not getting involved.”

“Because it’s really painful and I’m morally obligated as the only person with functional brain cells to tell you to move on. Juugo’s too nice to say it and Suigetsu would give you terrible advice and sit back and watch. I’m being nicer to you than you deserve.”

“By telling me to move on,” Sasuke deadpans, wondering why his parents couldn’t have settled down somewhere else.

“Well, someone has to do it! Clearly I’m the gay cousin in the family, so you’re screwed. Might as well get over it and get laid.”

“I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”

She huffs at him, traffic and broken conversations filtering through the phone. There’s the jingle of a shop’s door, and the noise cuts off.

“Your pining is just getting sad,” she eventually replies, distractedly. “Trust me, I know my cousin. He’s not worth it.”

Something unpleasant churns in Sasuke’s stomach. He wants to argue with her that he is worth it, but he doesn’t want to land himself in an hour-long lecture if he can help it. He rolls his neck, making a face. She’s got a point, but he doesn’t enjoy hearing it. His life would be a lot simpler if he could find someone who made him forget about Naruto. He’s just not sure it’s fair to expect someone to instantly replace a lifetime of friendship.

“I don’t think I should have to come out just because Naruto irritates you,” is what he says instead, leaning back in his chair. “What if my parents find out and disown me? You want to be responsible for that?”

“Sasuke,” she sighs, “your brother is literally gay and your parents love his boyfriend.”

“So?”

“Stop. Making. Excuses.”

He bites his cheek, holding back a denial. He’s not worried about his parents, he’s worried about Naruto’s reaction. That things will change between them. That he’ll think Sasuke has feelings for him, which would be correct but would also ruin absolutely everything.

“I’ll… consider it,” he concedes, after a long silence, during which Karin has finished buying whatever it was she needed.

“Really? Because I’m going to hold you to that.”

He sighs.

“Next time I’m not picking up when you call me.”

xxx

A few weeks pass, and not much changes. Naruto still takes up too much space in his head and life, Sakura continues to drop hints but refuses to make the first move, and Hinata is still as lovely as ever. She doesn’t seem to have much of a personality other than being Naruto’s girlfriend, but to be fair Sasuke hasn’t precisely paid attention or tried to get to know her. Naruto’s birthday is drawing closer, and he can’t bring himself to do anything to break the status quo before then.

He’s been considering it, though. It would be a relief to stop pretending. He can’t imagine himself finding a boyfriend, though, because where would he even meet someone? It’s too awkward to use a dating app, and he’s not precisely social. He doesn’t have any experience, either, if you don’t count those childish games they played sometimes when they were younger. And that one time Naruto kissed him by accident when they were twelve.

Because of this, he’s really not expecting it when one day in class, just as the lecture ends, his eyes fall on the messenger bag that the guy next to him has just finished packing. There’s a rainbow pin on it, and Sasuke blurts out his question before he can stop to think about it.

“Are you gay?”

He only lifts his eyes from the pin when the surprised silence stretches out a bit too long. Their eyes meet, and the other boy is staring at him like he’s not sure how to react.

“Uh,” he says eventually, fingers clenching around the bag’s strap. “I mean, yes? But if you’re thinking about the pin it’s just a regular rainbow…”

He trails off, and Sasuke feels his cheeks heat up a bit. He can’t believe he just asked, when he himself has gone to such lengths to make sure no one made such assumptions about him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine.”

Maybe he should know the guy’s name, but he doesn’t. He’s pretty short, hair dyed a light brown and glasses perched on his nose. Cute, but Sasuke’s not sure he’s his type. He’s not sure he has a type, other than Naruto.

“Are you gay?” the guy asks him, eyebrows rising above the frame of his glasses.

Sasuke licks his lips. He could say no, but to what end?

“I am,” he forces out, breathing in a deep breath.

“Oh.” There’s red color blooming on the other boy’s face, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment. “I was kind of hoping, but, um… I mean, hoping sounds weird! Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask outright.”

When Sasuke stands up, he realizes he’s almost a head taller than him.

“I’m Sasuke,” he offers, clicking his laptop shut and slowly sliding it into his bag.

“I know. I mean! I’m Hiroshi. Nice to meet you.”

Sasuke nods, and awkwardly turns to leave. Hiroshi stops him with a hand to his arm, though, and Sasuke swallows nervously as the turns back. He’s not interested in Hiroshi, not really, but he’s never been asked out by a boy before and the novelty of the situation is getting to him.

“Do you, um, are you busy right now? We could have lunch?”

He weighs the pros and cons in his mind. As nervous as Hiroshi looks, there’s a determined glint in his eyes that sways Sasuke over.

“Okay,” he says, and just like that he’s doing what Karin told him to do.

He’s trying, at least.

xxx

Over the course of a week, including having coffee together and a visit to the aquarium, Sasuke learns a lot about Hiroshi. Or Hiro, as he likes his friends to call him. They don’t have too much in common, but they’re both gay and studying agricultural economics. Once Hiro gets over his initial shyness, Sasuke finds he’s got a great sense of humor and won’t hesitate to poke fun at him.

It’s a breath of relief, to spend time with someone who doesn’t know him from before. He didn’t realize how much he needed it – just being able to be himself, without constantly keeping himself in check.

He can’t fool himself to think it’s enough to replace Naruto, but maybe he doesn’t need to replace him. Maybe it’s enough that Hiro seems to like him. He doesn’t really think about it, when he invites Hiro over on a Saturday night, after they’d had dinner at a nice udon place.

“Oh, wow,” Hiro says as he steps into Sasuke’s apartment, making an impressed face. “Nice place.”

“It’s my cousin’s, so no need to sound so impressed.”

Hiro rolls his eyes, taking off his shoes and jacket and following Sasuke inside.

“Alright, I’ll try to keep it in,” he teases, sitting on the couch when Sasuke motions him towards it. “But it must be nice, to have your own place like this. The dorms are fine, but I can’t exactly bring guys there.”

Humming his agreement, Sasuke grabs two cans of soda from the fridge, handing one of them to Hiro when he sinks down on the couch next to him.

“Want to watch something?”

Hiro nods, and Sasuke brings the TV to life. He’s not expecting anything to happen – they’ve only known each other a week. He’s still coming to terms with having a friend other than Karin he can talk to like this, and she doesn’t really count since there was never the potential for anything to happen between them. Hiro is… potentially someone Sasuke could date. At least there’s nothing wrong with him, not yet, and Sasuke’s easing himself into the idea of getting to know him better.

He finds a movie at random, some sci-fi that doesn’t look terrible. The movie turns into background noise as they talk, Hiro’s eyes watching his face more than the screen. It’s nice, in a new, exhilarating way, to have a guy’s attention on him like this. He’s not sure what to do with it. When Hiro moves closer, knee touching Sasuke’s thigh, hand resting on the back of the couch and occasionally touching his neck, Sasuke can’t find it in him to move away.

It feels like a secret, shared between the two of them. He thinks of Naruto for a long moment, allows himself the pain lacing through his chest as he imagines light brown hair replaced with blond, dark eyes replaced with blue. Then, he pushes it away, tells himself he can have this. The emotions are only his own.

It’s all happening too fast when Hiro grows bold, leaning in to press their mouths together, but he doesn’t care. It’s no one’s business if he spends the evening on his couch with a boy in his lap, a boy who isn’t his best friend.

The pain is easier to swallow if he tells himself that he’s the only one hurt.

[awesomerextyphoon]

Slit Reflection

This is my entry for @jtargaryen18​​’s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Mine was Sam Wilson. Credit for dividers goes to @firefly-graphics​. Check them out!

Summary: You’ve always loved Halloween, especially the haunted house at the edge of the woods. So happens when the ‘Star Spangled Trio’ enters the mix?

Pairing: Demon King!Sam Wilson x  Black!Reader (Fem)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3,054

Warning: Kidnapping, Forced Marriage, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Stalking, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Torture, and Non-Con/Dub-Con Smut. You have been warned.

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You’ve always loved Halloween. It was your birthday and the haunted house at the edge of the woods gave the best spooks and thrills. It was your first Halloween after undergrad and this year was different.

The Star Spangled Trio were celebrity guests and they were bringing two of the old rooms back!

It took you six days to get a ticket. You tried getting one online, every shop in town, but got nothing.

Finally, a new face at the library took pity on you and gave you the last ticket along with a book on demon folklore. You thanked the new librarian and rushed out of the building. Had you looked back you would’ve noticed a smirk on their face and their sclera and pupils turning black and gold respectively.

Halloween��the day of your birth—was here, and it was shit. Your toothbrush broke, your car refused to start, the job that you desperately wanted was dashed by yet another rejection email, and both your student loan and rent checks bounced. You just need to get through today.

You missed the cutoff, but got in because the person working the line was a family friend. Anxiously, you wait in line wondering how the haunted house in your small ass town managed to nab the Star Spangled Trio when you noticed the excited expressions of the people leaving. Now you’re super anxious.

By the time you entered the haunted house, you’re doing the breathing exercises to calm yourself. This was it! You were finally going to meet your all time heroes (and possible spank bank entries)!

The first few rooms were your typical haunted house fare which you loved, but were secondary to your excitement in seeing your heroes. Maybe you could get an autograph and hug from them!

You were about to follow the person in front of you into the haunted house’s hospital room when you noticed a light flickering to your left. It revealed a door done in the Neo-classical design with some Latin text engraved in the middle (had you studied Latin , you would’ve known that the text read “Reveal yourself, my beloved”).

Opening the door, you saw that it lead to the Hall of Mirrors. This part of the haunted house was always a favorite of yours, but both the itinerary and the ticket worker said that it was closed this year. The hall itself was chillingly quite and pristine as if no one else had stepped foot inside this season.

All of the mirrors looked standard for the haunted house; some of them made you laugh or briefly catch your breath. The one at the end of the hall caught you off-guard. It was at least 12ft (about 3.66m) high with intricate carvings of characters out of dark folklore and a single diagonal slit.

You were about to turn away when you saw nothing thinking it was a small haunted house joke at your expense when the mirror flashed.

In your place was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, but it still looked like you..sort of. Your hair was long, luxurious and gently flowing. Your eyebrows, eyelashes, and nails were immaculate. Your nose was adorably broad and your lips were sensually full (the type of full women would shell hundred’s if not thousands of dollars for). You wore a diadem with thick gold chains ladened with diamonds, onyx, and rubies and around your neck was a ruby and onyx amulet. You were dressed in a loose, yet sleeveless form-fitting Vivaldi red gown with hints of fiery red and a thin rosewood colored shoulder veil connected to the dress by a ruby broach in the middle of your cleavage.

You looked about four or five inches taller and the mirror version of you made you feel nervous about your curves being out on display.

Curious, you reached out to touch the mirror. Your hand was less than a centimeter away when your mirrored self opened it eyes. Suddenly, it grew curved horns and its eyes glowed pale gold.

The mirrored version of you grabbed your outstretched arm and dragged you through the mirror all while you screamed hoping someone would come to your rescue, but to no avail.

Samael, or ‘Sam’ was notified of your departure and the trio had to excuse themselves from the festivities to congratulate Sam on finding his bride.

You woke up with a start and shout clawing the air but stopped once you realized that you weren’t falling anymore. Instead, you were in a huge, opulent room filled with treasures that not even Windsor Castle had. Curiosity seemed to have taken hold of you because you walked out onto the connecting balcony to find that you were on a different planet/dimension/realm, whatever!

There were floating landmasses (the smallest of which was the size of your small town) and five planets ranging from Moonbow Gold to Venetian Red in color.

You thought about where the fuck you were and how you could get back home when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

The source of the voice was a demon with Antique Ruby skin with reddish gray undertones and Cinnabar and Rosewood colored hair. She had two short outward curved horns with a gold chain and aquamarine teardrop connecting them. Her eyes were an inviting aqua blue eyes with a dark red sclera.

“Hello! My name is Scheherazade, but you can call me Sherry. I’m your Lady in Waiting. I’ve brought some food.” Sherry offered as she set the tray of food on a small table next to a dresser.

You smiled cautiously at your new elevated handmaiden,”Do you know why I’m-”

“Oh, I almost forgot! We need to get you ready for your presentation!”

The Fuck?!

“What do you mean ‘presentation’?,” you asked as nicely as possible, but reality came out more like a demand.  

Sherry stopped her ministrations and faced you,”Well, when the monarch, crown prince, or princess declares their mate, they are presented to the royal court,” she then returned to her task of finding a suitable dress for you not catching the mortified expression on your face.

This day can’t get any worse. Wait?

“What time is it?”

“Oh, yes, It’s pretty much always night here. The sun only comes out for three hours. Would you look at the time! Everyone’s waiting!”

“One last question,” you started as Sherry began dressing you,”Who am I marrying?”

“Why my second cousin, King Samael, one of the Three Demon Kings,  of course!”

You fought the impulse to faint.

It took thirty minutes for Sherry to make you look unrecognizable. Thankful for her assistance, you followed the floating torches to the throne room. The throne room was an enormous room with high wide vaulted arches, delicately carved pillars and columns, and a small bridge connecting the ground at the door to the center. The court comprised of beautiful yet fearsome demons of all shapes and sizes.

The king himself was seated on a grand, ornate throne atop a huge dais with at least 25 steps. He seemed familiar.

As soon as you were passed the threshold, the king raised his head and everyone stopped talking and cleared a path for you. Several courtiers whispered as you striddled towards the dais. When you finally reached the dais, the king got off his throne and walked down the steps to greet you.

You almost face-palmed. The king was Sam Wilson! Or at least, looked like him.  

Sam for his part was devastatingly handsome. He had a tall, powerful build, broad shoulders, bulging biceps, muscular thighs, short well-kept hair and beard with surprisingly kind eyes.  

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Sam uttered as he pulled you in for a hug. You could’ve sworn he sniffed your hair, but you didn’t want to go into that right now.

“Everyone!” The court turned to the throne,” Thank you for coming. I have finally found my bride. We will be married tomorrow night!” Sam exclaimed to thunderous cheers and applause. He slipped on a magnificent ruby and diamond engagement ring with a black gold band.

You could not believe this, “I can’t-,” you started, but Sam discreetly grabbed your wrist, “Pre-wedding jitters,” and led you to a side room.

You expected him to hit or yell at you like so many other royals in a similar setting, but instead he gave a sad smile and asked if you were truly happy in your old life. You thought about your crushing debt, little to no job prospects, both parents dead, no friends and you had to admit your life did suck, but he didn’t get to decide.

Disappointed, Sam casted a small compliance spell and pulled you in for a kiss. Your pupils blew out in lust and you lost yourself. When he finally decided to break for air, Sam stated that you will be his bride and he will not be denied any longer. You smiled and gave him a short but passionate kiss. He moaned but had to end it before he went too far.

Tomorrow night he promised himself.

He quickly called for Sherry to return you  to your quarters.

Sherry woke you up the next ‘morning’ with a small army of beauty experts and maids.

“Rise and shine, Your Grace! We’ve got a bride to present!” Sherry proclaimed.

Damn it! It wasn’t a nightmare.

They managed to stuff you into a marvel of a wedding dress. It was a Torch Red long-sleeved mermaid wedding dress with soft yet detailed lace work made to look like an enchanted forest, diamond, dark ruby and pearl beads, and a floor length train. On your head was a black gold spiked sunburst goddess with deep ruby roses and a simple ruby teardrop chain that rested on your forehead, the ends of which were wrapped around your horns.

“Not even Lilith could compare, Your Grace!” Sherry gushed at her handiwork.

The wedding procession and ceremony was done in a swift fashion as Sam didn’t want to wait much longer. The vows were short as well. You wanted to object, call for help, anything but a voice in the back of your mind beat you to it.  

A couple hours into the wedding festivities, Sam announced that it was time for he and his new queen to retire and led you to his quarters. It’s the fanciest suite you’ve ever seen dripping with luxurious reds, violets, and obsidian.

In all your awing of Sam’s quarters, you failed to notice him approaching you in only a simple loose shirt and trousers. He gently put his hands on your exposed shoulders,”Alone at last, my love.”

You recoiled, “Can’t we wait for a few days? It’s just…” you trailed off as soon as his jovial expression vanished replaced with something darker and hungrier.

“I’ve waited for so long to have you here with me, love,”  Sam confessed while you moved towards the exit,”and I will not be denied any longer!”

In an instant, Sam pulled you in for a demanding kiss. He pushed his tongue past your lips moaning when your tongue tepidly danced with his own and from the sweet taste of your mouth. He pushed you onto a bed that had to three times the size of a California King and his lips moved jaw and neck, egged on by needy whimpers and moans.

He took his time ripping off your gown, enjoying the view like a child on Christmas, ”Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Utter perfection,” Sam murmured as he watched your breasts bounced free. He alternated between sucking and pinching your nipples with his hands and mouth,”I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered in your left ear and he continued to play with your breasts like a concert-level musician. All the while moaned and cried out feeling pleasure you never thought possible.

Once satisfied with his handiwork with your chest, Sam’s hands roamed over your stomach and hips followed by strategically placed butterfly kisses that made you squirm. He tore off the last of your wedding gown causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of cold air touching your pussy.

You used your last bit of willpower to plead, “Please stop! I’ve never-,” Sam stopped and raised his head to look at you.

“I know, love. I’ll be your first and only,” and with that, he gives your folds one long, slow lick and growled at your sweet and tangy taste, “I’ve wondered how you’d taste. You’re even better than the best Kharian wine. I could get used to this.”

He dove back in and played your pussy for all it was worth. His tongue worked its magic stroking and circling your clit sending you higher and higher into euphoria. Sam kept you right on the edge of an orgasm, just enough to beg for release.

“Say you’re mine!,” you mewled in response, to blissed out to use words. “Say it or I’ll leave!”

“Please let me cum, My King!” you cried out when he thrusted two fingers into your pussy.

“That’s a good girl. Now,”Sam started as he vigorously rubbed your pussy,”cum for me, love.”

Your orgasm came like a tsunami and Sam made sure finish his feast.

You got out of your post-oral haze to see Sam looming over in all his naked glory. His body must’ve been made by the gods because it was divine. His frame was an ode to sexiness wrapped in sinful warm sepia skin.

Sam caught you biting your lower lip and cocked his head, “Like what you see?”

Damn that cocky bastard, but damn if he wasn’t right. Part of you wanted to fuck his brains out…and that was before you saw his cock. Standing proud and erect with angry veins, his cock had to be the biggest you’ve ever seen (not like you had much exposure, just a few pornos).

Sam crawled up to you, lifted your chin and gave a soft kiss on the lips sensing your unease, “Relax, love,” He then lined his cock to your entrance and slid in as gently as he could.

You hissed from the pain, he was just so damn big. Sam praised you on how well you fit around him like ‘you were made for him’. Once the pain subsided, you bucked your hips into his causing him to moan at the sensation. He smiled at your eagerness and picked up the pace, making his thrusts come out to just the tip was in you and slamming back into you. You cried out his name each time he filled you to the hilt, pleading with him to go faster. Soon he reached your G-Spot causing to orgasm again, this time with you crossing your eyes and coming with a squirt.

Not too long after your second orgasm, Sam came with an otherworldly roar and glowing bright gold eyes shooting rope after rope of thick cum into your womb. He then flipped you onto your stomach and forced you onto your hands and knees so that he could take you from behind.

He got ten orgasms from you, each one more mind-blowing than the last. Once he was satisfied, he let you sleep.

“Soon you will be round with my seed, and we will have many children. I can’t wait.”

Ah hour after you closed your eyes, Sam left his, now yours, quarters. “Make sure she doesn’t leave,” he orders the guards although, he’s confident that she’s not going anywhere with the way he hammered her.

He strode down the corridors until he reached the dungeon. There, he found a rather nice looking apartment-style cell with only one prisoner, your mother.

“I’ve taken your daughter. Do you want to see her before you go?”

You see, Samael, Mikael (Bucky), and Stelios (Steve) were demon warlords who began conquering kingdoms left and right 1200yrs ago. They fought their way to the last free kingdom, Kharan. By the time your grandparents were brought before them, they had killed your uncle, the heir to the throne. The king and queen begged for their lives and the kingdom to be spared.

The trio agreed on one condition: if the next child the queen bears is a girl, then she would be Sam’s mate (Mikael and Stelios already had mates).

The king reluctantly agreed. The queen gave birth four months later to a girl, but she was in demon form. The queen had two of her most trusted attendants spirit the child away to another realm and raised her as their own.

Sam had your grandparents slaughtered and razed Kharan to the ground for their trickery. No matter, he was immortal. He would bide his time.

Eventually, your mother was told about her true parentage and form. She learned to control her powers, found love and she too was with child.

Sam found her a week before she went into labor and said that it was time to collect. She promised you in her stead immediately in hopes that it would buy her some time.

It did. She was able to pass you, a cambion, off to a friend of hers who wanted a child but couldn’t conceive and gave Sam a fake baby. He had your mother thrown into the dungeons.

Sam searched for you, but discovered that your mother put a cloaking spell on you. So, he approached your mother with a deal: her freedom for you becoming his mate.

It took your mother three years of torture for her to say yes.

Once the spell was lifted, Sam went to work. He made sure your adopted parents had a little ‘accident’ when you were old enough to take care of yourself, made sure that no one would want to hire you, and saddled you with debt. He even got Mikael and Stelios to pose as ‘The Star Spangled Trio’ with him to finally get you to the Hall of Mirrors.

Your mother bowed her head in shame, “No. It’s best for her to believe that I don’t exist.”

Sam unlocked the cell door with a simple spell, “You’re free to go. Have a nice life,” and returned to his quarters to be with his mate and queen.

Your mother took one last look at the palace,”I’m sorry, my little moon and stars,” and disappeared into the night.

Taglist: @jtargaryen18​ @threeminutesoflife​​ @giorno-plays-piano​ @lookiamtrying​ @sherrybaby14​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @life-of-yn​ @mcudarklibrary​ @marvelfansworld​ @imdarkinme​ @sapphirescrolls​ @samingtonwilson​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @pseudonymphet​ @dahkness​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @golden-ariess​ @chixkencxrry​ @anyatheladyclown​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @saint-bvcky​ @cherienymphe​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @cockslut-padalecki​

[doiedreams]

State of Lucidity // l.ty

◈⇢ Synopsis: apparition!Taeyong’s appearances at night is what you think keeps you sane, but what was once a healing escape is becoming an addictive attachment Taeyong doesn’t want you to fall victim to.

◈⇢ Pairing: apparition!Taeyong x reader

◈⇢ Genre: fluff ద, angst ᱬ

◈⇢ Listen to: What Dreams Are Made of (by Evan McIntosh) HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

◈⇢ Warnings/Content: lucid dreaming, small mention of addiction, hints toward dream reality confusion

◈⇢ WC: 1.6k words

A view of your drab ceiling shifts into the focus of a hazy atmosphere as your eyelids flutter open. The sound of a vague, lulling white noise begins to fill your ears, as it feels like you’ve been transported to another realm. In a way, you have.

You feel a presence becoming more palpable next to you, and the mattress you lay on lightly begins to sink at your side.

Turning your head towards it, you sigh as your eyes meet the dark, and yet so bright, eyes of Taeyong. With the way his eyes gleam, you’d be able to find his gaze if the room was pitch-black. The corners of his perfectly shaped lips turn upwards and he lets out a soft giggle. You join him, feeling a euphoric feeling course through your body upon seeing him once again in all his angelic glory.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you whisper.

“I tell you every time. It won't be the last time we meet.” His fingers brush against your hand beside you, and you allow them to intertwine at your side. “I have something for you.”

“And what might that be?” you ask.

Laying in bed on your backs, Taeyong taps his finger against your hand, bringing your attention to the space between your bodies. You feel a cool, smooth surface touch your fingers and you sit up, looking over to find a plate next to your legs. On the plate sits a pile of bright red, crownless strawberries, and a cloudy white substance next to them.

You turn towards Taeyong, who's still laying on his back in your bed looking at you with twinkling eyes, and ask, “Is this-?”

“Strawberries and whipped cream,” he finishes. “Your favorite.”

He reaches for the plate and balances it on his belly as he lays on his back.

“Come eat.”

You shoot him a quizzical glance before laying your head back on the pillow. You pluck a strawberry from the plate, scoop up some of the cool cream with the bottom, and plop it into your mouth. A burst of juice surges in your mouth as you chew, and you can’t help but feel like you’re sitting in a strawberry field, facing the sun with Taeyong’s smile shining just as bright next to you. This feeling of freedom, like you can be anywhere and everywhere on earth without moving an inch, is what makes you love being with Taeyong; you couldn’t feel this way with anybody else. You proceed to crush the juicy goodness between your teeth, savoring both the vibrant tang of the red fruit and the sugary coolness of the whipped cream.

The hint of mouthwash that once resided on your tastebuds when getting into bed is no longer there. It’s as if you've been bound to your lucid dream with Taeyong forever, not once partaking in the materialistic everyday routine involving brushing your teeth, making food, and going to work. Instead, it seems like the only lifestyle you've ever known is the one in which you bask in his presence in your soft bed, having conversation after conversation about pleasant memories that you somehow don't remember by the time you awaken.

“Mm, I love midnight snacks,” you hum, as you continue to take strawberries from the plate.

“I know. That's why I brought these.”

“Don’t you want some?”

“Nope. I'm only here for you,” he says as his eyes twinkle even in the room’s dimness. Catching sight of his smile once again brings butterflies to your stomach. His smile. Such a healing sight makes it so hard to part ways with it. And those lips. To feel them on yours just once would fulfill you with everlasting bliss.

-

“Your smile is so pretty,” Taeyong said in a hushed tone, his face hovering over yours, fingers lightly stroking your cheeks as you lay against your polyester sheets.

Your hands rested upon his shoulders and felt their way up his neck until they reached the sides of his face. “Yours is perfect.”

You yearned to close the space between your faces, but before you could, Taeyong said, “I’m sorry. I should go,” and shifted over to his previous spot on the bed, letting go of you.

“Taeyong-”

“I don't want you to get hurt,” he cut you off. Your perplexed stare sparked guilt in his chest as soon as he spoke. He could practically hear the questions darting in your head at the moment, and in response, all he said was, “Please, trust me.”

You decided to say nothing more upon seeing his soft smile that constantly told you that everything is okay.

-

Since that moment, you’ve wondered, what does he mean? How could I possibly get hurt? He wouldn’t hurt me. Yet, you never dared to ask him. The reassuring smile that never seemed to leave his face was the only answer you ever needed.

“All done?” Taeyong asks, pointing at the last strawberry before offering it to you.

You take it from his hand and eat it, nodding to let him know you’ve been satisfied. He sets the plate aside, and with a deep sigh, shuts his eyes and reaches for your hand once again. You allow him to hold your hand, but keep your eyes open just to be sure he's still with you.

The blurred haze hovering over you slowly begins to slip away as you start to feel reality force itself into your space.

“I think it’s best for me to go now,” Taeyong whispers softly, his breath leaving a phantom kiss on your skin.

You shake your head, rumpling the fabric of the pillowcase beneath your head, as you begin to object. “Just a li-”

“I can't stay any longer. I'm sorry.” The glint in Taeyong’s eyes slowly begins to dim down along with the atmosphere of the room, but his soothing smile doesn’t diminish one bit.

Recently, it seems as though you spend less and less time together. You can’t be upset with him, as you know he tries to make the departure as bearable as possible for you. Plus, he keeps his word: he’ll be back. He always comes back. He’s never given a reason as to why he needs to leave so early, but you're sure it must be the same reason he told you he didn't want to hurt you that night. He couldn't possibly hurt you. He's healing. He's therapy.

Yet, he's an obsession. A medicine that you manifested for your survival. He’s the embodiment of your pain turned to healing, and his addictive nature is getting the best of you. You're losing your grip on reality and Taeyong knows it. The stronger your attachment to him becomes, the easier it is to slip away from your real life. Every single morning, you leave more and more of yourself with him when you get out of bed. Every night, the desire to be with him gets stronger. He doesn't want to be responsible for the damage you'll do to your real-life relationships. Nor does he want to be at fault for the crushing guilt you feel when you have to leave your room and face reality every day. If he’s not careful, you’ll become more and more dependent on his presence to heal the legitimate wounds this obsession brings.

He loves you. He wants you too. Just not at the expense of your lucidity. He wants you to be able to live without him. It’s for your own good.

You don’t know of the damage this attachment could bring. Maybe it’s best you do, but the only desire you have is to spend eternity laying next to him in a bundle of linen. If your mattress could swallow you whole and transport you to a place where it's just the two of you, you’d let it.

Your head begins to swim and the white noise that once occupied the space around you starts to fade out. A tugging force on your hand rouses you from your thoughts, and you turn your head to meet Taeyong’s eyes.

“I promise, you’ll see me again.” He gives you a reassuring nod, accompanied by his pretty smile. A sigh leaves your lips, but in response to his consolidating words, you nod back and squeeze on his hand.

“Thank you for the strawberries and cream. It’s always nice having you here.”

His smile becomes one with a glint of sadness. I was never even here. “You’ll always have me.” His gaze darts away from your eyes and a pit begins to form in his stomach knowing he’s feeding your attachment to him. When will the line between dream and reality become completely blurred? It won’t be much longer, but he can’t just leave you forever. You need him. “Enjoy the rest of your sleep.”

With that, you can no longer feel a hand in yours and the only sound you hear is the slight hum of your AC. You run your hand along the cold bedsheets of the empty space next to you and feel an immediate longing for warmth. The bright red light illuminating from your alarm clock indicates you should be asleep for at least another hour before it goes off with its annoying wake-up call. You pull the covers over your body, and with a tart taste at the back of your mouth, you shut your eyes and rest, waiting to be awakened into your clouded reality.

a/n: I highly recommend listening to the song listed in the description. The vibes are just right and the fic correlates with some of the lyrics. It was supposed to be fully fluff but then I’m like damn,,, it’s a shame Taeyong aint even really there lmao and it just developed from there. as most of you know, I’m mainly a fluff writer. Anything that it isn’t purely soft fluffy content is new territory for me haha. With that being said, I hope you enjoyed it ♡

proofread by: @give-seconds @meraki-mark @byunbaekby @orange-nimon-cross @pastelsicheng @heartyyjeno @drydrops891 thank u! ♡

[cherry-interlude]

Lana Del Rey Album Songs Ranking (Remade)

It’s been a few years since I ranked all of Lana’s (album) songs so I wanted to do it again. This is all my OPINION, which I’m sure some people might disagree with, but you don’t have to agree with it. This is also a very long post.

Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood

This cover song is just a little too drab and uninteresting to me, and I never listen to it. After the brilliant, sprawling, sexy, heart-breaking tracks on Honeymoon, this feels like a tacked-on track just to plump up the album. It feels simply like a cover.

For Free

Though this is a well-made song, with three brilliant women owning the track, it again just feels like a cover. It fits in well with Chemtrails, but by the time I get to this song I’ve had my fill.

Breaking Up Slowly

It just feels repetitive and simple, something only to have on in the background while my attention is diverted. It’s a good song and a nice attempt at bringing Lana’s country music in, but it does little to keep me interested.

God Knows I Tried

This song is filler. Jammed between the jazzy softness of Terrence Loves You and the pop favourite High By The Beach, this track just feels like it was sort of shoved in. It doesn’t even feel completely right on Honeymoon, instead a throwaway song that bridges Ultraviolence and Honeymoon whilst not fitting in with either album.

24

Though perfect for the credits of a Hollywood movie, 24 has plenty of flair but nothing of substance. The lyrics aren’t as imaginative as most of Lana’s music and I’m not surprised this song found itself near the end of the album.

Lucky Ones

Personally, this song irritates me. It's sickly in its lyrics, sugary in the romance and classic Lana tropes of dangerous men and Lana starstruck by them no matter if they’re ‘careless cons and crazy liars’. The little flair of the verses and the overtly sweet chorus really irks me, especially following the brilliance that is Lana’s first ‘Del Rey’ album.

Coachella

It is a rushed track, sounding completely unfinished and hurried with an unconvincing track beat. Polished, it would be brilliant – but it sounds like Lana thought of the song (which sounds promising in the video where she sits in the forest and sings) and had to force it to ‘fit in’ with the trap-pop tracks on Lust For Life. The lyrics are thoughtful, if not cliché, but it could have been done better.

This Is What Makes Us Girls

It just doesn’t appeal to me. Maybe because I can’t connect to the lyrics in any way, I just don’t feel anything when I hear this song and choose to skip it. That being said, the demos are pretty fun.

God Bless America

As much as it’s a song honouring women during a period of time when feminism was being shaken, it doesn’t quite feel like Lana’s heart is in it. The patriotism is uneasy considering she was removing herself from the American flag and its associations, and the anthemic feel never lifts. It’s a sweet song, but never goes deeper than surface level.

Religion

Though fairly sexy and haunting – her unshaken faith to her man, her drawling voice – this delicate track is too simple and sombre for me to get completely into it. I always want to skip and get to my favourites.

In My Feelings

It’s great Lana has a bad-girl, bad-bitch, fuck-you pop track but this, like Coachella, feels unfinished. It has the vibe of work in progress, and the vocals are still messy (surely intentionally, though it doesn’t always come across that way) as well as trying slightly too hard. It doesn’t compare to Fucked My Way Up To The Top.

Beautiful People Beautiful Problems

The verses don’t match up to the choruses and I feel nothing – not empowered or emotional – when listening to this song, but it is a beautiful duet between Lana and Stevie. Their voices really are divine together and though I don’t listen to this song much, the demos are even better.

Change

Mostly because it freaks me out, this is a song I don’t often listen to. With a basic structure yet long, meandering lyrics, Lana broods over the state of America at the time, which can make for depressive listening. Though it’s a pretty enough song, it’s seriousness is too much to bear sometimes.

Blue Velvet

Sometimes too slow, Blue Velvet doesn’t inspire multiple listens in me, but it is a gorgeous cover and absolutely a showcase of Lana’s vocals.

Diet Mountain Dew

A cheeky little track that won many over, it still is hard for me to fully get into it. However, it ages like fine wine and is a wonderful step into the Lizzy Grant unreleased tracks (especially with the many, sometimes even better demos).  

Burning Desire

It’s a messy song, with Lana’s vocals shaky and the instrumental not quite up to scratch, but this song is certainly a guilty pleasure and great for getting into the sexy mood. The car metaphors are a bit much, especially considering it’s for a car advert, but if you get past that it’s a song to add to your freaky playlist.

Money Power Glory

As powerful and dark as this song is, with incredible instrumentals and Lana at her most dynamic, I barely remember the lyrics of the verses, instead waiting for the rich choruses.

Swan Song

A gentle track that has a lot of untapped power behind it, this is a quiet stormer of a song that has a lot of heart and grace. It may be a filler track, but it is definitely better than some.

Bartender

Even more gentle is the confessional, piano-led Bartender, which is a sweet little love song stripped back much like Lana’s simple romance where she sneaks out to see her lover. The main (and probably ridiculous) thing that keeps me from falling in love with this song more – though I’m already pretty amazed by it – is the very quiet sound of feedback that comes and goes, a fuzzy noise that is very subtle but distracting enough for me.

The Next Best American Record

This song would be higher if it was Architecture – the gorgeous, well-thought stunner that wowed us all when it was leaked. The lyrics are less fractured relationship and more wishy washy, wiping away the gritty sadness that made Architecture so beloved (at least to me). Now it’s been made ‘happier’, it’s hard to tell what the song is – is Lana happy with her lover or is she sad like in the unreleased version? Is this a break up song or a celebration of the romance? What does it mean now that it is both of them that are obsessed with writing? It’s something for me to certainly explore more, but it is paled in comparison to the original.

When The World Was At War

This track grew on me, with the hidden lyrics, fun vocals and hopeful message. Lana knows how to make a song that lifts your mood and this is certainly one of them.

Guns and Roses

I used to despise this song – finding it boring and dull. However, after giving it a listen years later, it is in fact a beautiful song with a gritty feel that is perfect for Ultraviolence. It fits in perfectly with the album and the extended tracks, and though it isn’t the strongest lyrically, the vocals and dreamy feel is thrilling.

Lolita

I choose to listen to this song without the underage character – or romantic connotations of her – in mind, instead seeing this song as a grown woman trying to charm an older man. However, as I have grown older – and read (and loved) the book several times more – I feel more inclined to distance myself from this song. It’s a fun, perky pop track but it definitely feels dated.

Dance Till We Die

Lana sings of her connection to other famous female singers and her daughter’s chosen name, making this a very personal pop song that also reminds of When The World Was At War for its hopeful and ultimately positive edge. It is a little slow but incredible touching, and the bridge is so kickass you can’t help but dance along.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

This is a very sweet little song that again showcases the more positive side of Lana’s music, rather than the heartbroken and distressed women she tends to play. Though it is a filler song it’s a very pretty one and so catchy.

Wild At Heart

Wild At Heart is similar to Not All Who Wander Are Lost in that it’s a departure from a tragic femme fatale, instead a love song that also mimics Swan Song in that she considers leaving fame for her lover. What makes it even better is how Lana samples How To Disappear, a much sadder track, and twists it into something happy with this ultimately more upbeat album.

Radio

Like Diet Mountain Dew, Radio is another perky tune that is more than just a catchy filler. It’s a little bit sassy and has an edge to it (with the expletives and how her life is sweet not like sugar but cinnamon) that keeps it from being too frothy. Speaking of Lana’s newfound fame, it’s a nice break from the love ballads and tragedies peppered throughout Born To Die.

Without You

Shockingly dramatic, Without You is the ultimate symbol of Lana’s older music – a woman who could only feel happy unless her man was in her life. She has definitely moved on for the most part from wailing her demise at losing her lover but Without You is still glamorous, catchy and perfect to singalong to.

The Other Woman

This is one of Lana’s best covers – Nina Simone’s song about being the other woman and how it is in fact lonely and heart-breaking. Lana makes the song her own, her vocals stunning and lo-fi with instrumentals that are perfect for Ultraviolence.

How To Disappear

I feel that the live version of How To Disappear, where she sung it on stage before it was released with its real instrumental, is the superior version. It’s stripped back and tender enough to feel the emotion thoroughly, but the album version doesn’t disappoint. It’s one of many great tracks from (what I think is) her best album, and has a great story within it.

Fucked My Way Up To The Top

Lana’s satirical, sexy and stirring Fucked My Way Up To The Top was just tongue-in-cheek enough to keep from being too much of a cliché. Perhaps based on her real experiences but definitely a fuck-you to anyone who critiques her for owning her sexuality, it’s a little bit controversial but an incredible song.

Tomorrow Never Came

This song, which is a gorgeous duet with Sean Ono Lennon and a nice nod to 20th century music, subverts expectations that it is a sad song by in fact including a happy ending. I love how it can make you cry with both sadness and happiness, and tells a sweet story that paints pictures of parks and country houses.

Yosemite

The long-awaited Yosemite didn’t disappoint, and though it took a while to grow on me it became a classic and somehow familiar track. It’s impossible to not sing or dance to it and wouldn’t be out of place in Lust For Life.

Hope Is A Dangerous Thing

It’s quite slow – the Change/24/Old Money of Norman Fucking Rockwell – but it is clearly a personal and well-thought song that references Lana’s great inspiration Sylvia Plath. Lana’s deft at getting her thoughts out in song and I think though it’s not a song I often listen to, it is beautiful.

Honeymoon

The sweeping violins, dramatic vocals and the dangerous undercurrent makes Honeymoon crackle with electricity. It’s an amazing introduction to an album that once again has dangerous men, bad girls who get hurt but are strong again and amazing instrumentals. Though it’s not the best song from the album, it sets the tone perfectly.

Million Dollar Man

Like Without You, it’s another song of complete devastation, which Lana has grown from in her music. Million Dollar Man shows some great vocals and lyrics, and gets the emotion out perfectly whilst honouring the music that inspired her.

Old Money

The verses are pretty enough but they don’t catch my attention the way the choruses do. The slow, steady song took a long time for me to really appreciate but it’s impossible not to feel some kind of emotion when Lana lets her lover know she will be with them whenever they need her.

Sad Girl

Like The Other Woman, Sad Girl shows how being the other woman has it’s downfalls but appreciates the sexy, exciting side of it – how alluring her man is and how much of a bad bitch she may be. Once again, it’s a pure Ultraviolence song that shows Lana’s vocals and music in the best way whilst showcasing the classic caricature of the femme fatale.

Dark Paradise

Strangely upbeat for such a sad song, Dark Paradise is great to dance to but also something that makes you want to cry. Lana’s vocalisations and dramatic lyrics don’t quite compare to some of her other songs but Dark Paradise is iconic.

Summertime Sadness

The slow-burn, emotional gut punch that is Summertime Sadness is always a classic and one of Lana’s best. Though it is far from my personal favourite it is absolutely an outstanding song and the perfect example of Lana’s most well-made and well-delivered songs.

Gods and Monsters

The strained Gods and Monsters is a great tale about the evil side of fame, which Lana never quite delves too deeply into but gives a metaphorical and mildly personal nod to. Gods and Monsters is one of those songs that has you singing along and feeling strong.

Carmen

Carmen is a beautiful, sad story that feels rich and luxurious despite its harrowing lyrics of an alcoholic star. The French bridge adds to the decadence and it feels like a dirty alcohol bottle wrapped in silk, from the tentative verses to the unnerving chorus.

Born To Die

One of Lana’s original pop chart tracks, this is a song that never grows old. It’s one of the blueprints of the Lana Del Rey era and deftly shows her vocals whilst setting the tone for the pessimistic, romantic star in the early 2010s.

Salvatore

Opening with laughing – or crying – Salvatore has an eerie feel to it, though it is completely erotic in feel (enough to ignore some of the simpler lyrics). It is a song that feels dreamy, much like the rest of Honeymoon, but passionate and reminding of some of her older music (from the vocals in the bridge that have a Lolita/Fucked My Way Up To The Top feel to them to the continued trope of bad boys and glamour).

Flipside

Dirty, gritty and quite contained, Flipside is a song that I wished had more attention. It’s not her most imaginative song but there’s something about it, from the gloomy guitars to the hushed vocals, that have me wanting to sing it over and over. It also is one of her great fuck-off songs, as sympathetic as it is resilient.

Doin’ Time

Lana really turns this song into her own with the summery instrumentals and the pop edge she is so good at. It’s surprisingly one of her best covers and a fresh-feeling track that isn’t bogged down by emotion or maudlin music.

Lust For Life

Breathless and oh-so-romantic, Lust For Life is one of those songs that was perfect for the charts, and a key piece in Lana’s turn into becoming more positive. However, as fun and lovely as this song is, the demos are a whole other ball game. A little more ethereal, they fit Lana much more perfectly and it’s sad she dismissed the witchy feel for a song that is brilliant but generic.

Love

One of Lana’s warmest and most refreshing songs, she looks at love with fondness and dedicates this track to her ‘kids’. She knows her fans well and to make a song that references them (much like Happiness Is A Butterfly’s nod to her ‘babies’) makes this song all the more pleasant.

The Greatest

Lana’s vocals are put to good use in this intimately-written song. She speaks her mind in her reminiscence of the past and the worries for the future, all with a storming chorus that is certainly one of her best.

Love Song

Tender and almost tentative, Love Song is one of those tracks that is romantic through-and-through. It’s stripped back enough to feel like it really is a private song for only her lover’s ears, just as confessional as Cinnamon Girl and Bartender.

White Mustang

Short but sweet, this song has all the makings of a Lana Del Rey song, harking back to the Born To Die days with her imagery and fallen love affair, but it is spiky enough to be part of her later music where she starts giving less shits. The whistling and race cars are a nice touch, displaying her play on words snugly.

Dark But Just A Game

Sort of jazzy, Dark But Just A Game is ever-shifting and never quite settles on a particular sound. It’s cohesive, however, and clearly states what Lana is thinking in a way that works with the rest of Chemtrails. It’s pretty sexy as well, which doesn’t hurt the enjoyability factor.

High By The Beach

The wooziness, the carelessness and the growth from a woman begging to be put in a movie to a woman who is able to do as she pleases. Lana stumbles and swears through the song but knows exactly what she wants – and it isn’t disappointing men or stalking paparazzi.

Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Some may think it much slower and more boring than a lot of her tracks, but I think it’s a tidy, sweet track. Lana plainly states her love, urges her man to run away with her and lets her emotions (and voice) do the talking.

Summer Bummer

Lana is as restless as a hot summer in this song and it works. Her brisk-paced yet soft-voiced lyrics and gorgeous imagery gets my pulse racing, and ASAP Rocky’s verse works well for it. Though it would have been interesting to get a full, solo Summer Bummer, Rocky adds an edge to this song and compliments his ‘lover’ well.

Groupie Love

Much more flowery and wide-eyed, Groupie Love is like a contradiction. Lana’s passionate dalliance with Rocky’s god-like star opposes the relationship in Summer Bummer (uncertain) but both are just as secret. Groupie Love has the edge of being ultra-dreamy and demonstrating pure love – and lust – without the messiness.

American

It’s a filler track that has potential for much more. It’s an adorable song, almost cautious in its lead-up to the satisfying chorus, and is filled with Lana tropes galore. Following Lana’s stressed Ride and coming before the darkly sensual Cola, American is a breath of fresh air.

National Anthem

What an anthem it is. It’s simply provocative and one of her most classic tracks. Mixing love, money and fame together with a bit of sex thrown in, National Anthem is precisely what Lana’s America seems to be.

Is This Happiness?

It’s muted, mournful and resentful, questioning a relationship that Lana wants to keep but at the same time doesn’t. This is one of Lana’s best sad songs, tearful as it is still adoring beneath the exasperation.

Art Deco

Art Deco is purely dreamy, a song to bathe in. The lyrics are a little bit simple but Lana’s vocals and the flowing, aquatic music is the perfect hook.

Terrence Loves You

Lana’s jazzy song is delicate, letting only her voice and the saxophone dominate. With references to David Bowie, Lana pines for someone who hurt her badly, but she soothes herself with music the way plenty of her fans do when listening to her records.

White Dress

The vocals were a surprise at first – high, strained whispers – but they definitely grew on me. Painting a picture of young Lana loving life and dreaming of bigger things, it’s nostalgic in lyrics but also reminds of some of Lana’s old work – her unreleased tracks where she would serve coke and fries.

Chemtrails

It gets better as it goes on, growing and twisting from a song to sunbathe to into a restless, darkening track. It has the best vibe for an idealised world with something a bit off, and the imagery of pools, jewels and schools grounds Lana into a (very, very rich) normality rather than the glamorous star she always liked to portray.

13 Beaches

Opening with a quote from Carnival of Souls, Lana takes High By The Beach to the next level. She goes from sticking her middle finger up to the paparazzi to simply wishing she would be allowed to live her life without them hounding her. It’s a matured approach that uses sound interestingly, with beeps and whines adding a strange texture to the song.

Cola

The controversial line was intended as humour, but strangely it works. Even if Cola is satire like Fucked My Way Up To The Top, Lana owns the ‘other woman’, the patriotic singer, the sexy and unashamed woman who says what she thinks without caring of the consequences. It’s an iconic song, even if you have to turn the volume down to not offend.

Black Beauty

The unreleased version is ten times more emotive, with its stripped back and lonesome feel, but the album version is just as good. The ultimately loving but unhappy lyrics are full of stunning imagery, and this is a song that would have been perfect with a music video.

Body Electric

Blasphemous as much as it honours icons, Lana sinfully owns Body Electric. The bridge is a bit out of place but Lana’s eyebrow-raising approach to religion and sexuality is genius.

Off To The Races

The best demonstration of Lana’s vocals, Lana plays the glam girl without a care just as well as the Lolita-type, needy lover in this ode to money and her man. The soaring bridge is stunning, and the swirling violins add an air of Hollywood to it.

Bel Air

Completely overlooked (in my opinion), Bel Air is an apologetic song of redemption, a shining and honest track that is as touching as much as it is hazy and tranquil. With soft piano and the sound of children opening and closing the song respectively, it’s set apart from Paradise with a pureness that Lana pulls off well.

Ultraviolence

Controversial at the time and still controversial now, Ultraviolence is about being weak, about giving in to love no matter how toxic. I don’t entirely support the lyrics but it’s a stunning song, lo-fi enough to feel uneasy and haunting. When you shut off from the lyrics, you get a simply beautiful track.

Pretty When You Cry

Lana’s imperfect, close-to-tears vocals are wonderful in this song, and she really lets her emotion shine through. The pained guitar and Lana’s increasingly distressed singing are enough to get you feeling exactly as she does.

Florida Kilos

Fun. Fresh. Freeing. Lana’s ode to drugs is simply something to dance to and sing, and she somehow manages to get the sunny feeling across even with the Ulraviolence-esque grunginess. It’s one of my favourite songs of Lana’s because it’s just so happy, which is a nice departure from some of her heavier tracks.

Cherry

Many people’s favourite – Cherry. It was my favourite of Lana’s for a long time, dripping with sex appeal and sadness but with a cute dance to compliment it. It had all the right stuff wrapped up in a tidy, compact box and the imagery is lush. I still love this song but since then we’ve had the ‘Cherries’ of her next few albums, Cinnamon Girl and Tulsa Jesus Freak. Like these, Cherry was a song that seemed set apart from the rest of the album and was a novel take on her typical music.

California

Simply for It's meaningful, raw lyrics – promising to be there as soon as he wants her, much like in Old Money – California is a sun-soaked dream with a very honest approach. Lana isn’t completely devastated, or begging for her lover to return. She is sad but realistic, and only wants the best for him. It’s beautiful and sad with a crazily addictive chorus.

West Coast

The shift from fast-paced, grungey, whispered verses to sprawling, drawling choruses – complete with weirdly sexy beeps towards the end of the song – shook us all, and it’s one of Lana’s most interesting songs. Lana honours the West Coast but also her man, in love with the music scene as much as she is with him.

Shades of Cool

The snide verses. The gradually growing music. The guitars. The explosive chorus. The nuclear bridge. The absolutely perfect timing and pacing. Shades of Cool is flawless, another Sad Girl but with much more power, emotion and music.

The Blackest Day

The Blackest Day needs more attention. Cold in places, almost lost, but then wounded in the chorus, The Blackest Day rolls with the emotions and is the kind of song that makes you want to fall apart and sob. Which is good, in a way, as it shows how brilliantly Lana conveys emotion.

Freak

Cult-like and haunting, this is the sexy predecessor of California. Lana swoons and tempts in this track, from her harmonising to her pouting “take it to the back if you really wanna talk” - not to mention the rest of the song in its entirely, all elements married together to create the perfect seductive track.

Music To Watch Boys To

Like Art Deco, Music To Watch Boys To is fairly aquatic and dreamy. Like Freak, it has that cult vibe (the chanting of the bridge). However, this song is perfectly its own, from the mix-up of vocal styles to the shifting tone (sad to smug to obsessively in love).

Norman Fucking Rockwell

What an opener. Norman Fucking Rockwell lets the actual singing and lyrics do the talking, the instrumentals pushed back enough to let Lana’s gut-punching first line (“God damn, man child, you fucked me so good that I almost said I love you”) and her blue yet annoyed insults to her Norman Rockwell do the talking.

Mariner’s Apartment Complex

It’s a song for yourself and for the people you love. Lana is strong enough to take care of herself, to be her own guidance – and to take on her lover’s problems too. It’s an empowering song, so distant from a lot of her discography, and I adore the nautical references and the hopeful message.

Brooklyn Baby

Satire again, but it still works. Lana plays a (fairly cringey) and somewhat self-absorbed, over-confident singer who is too cool for her own boyfriend, but she does it well. From saying how she wished people didn’t judge her, to the freedom the seventies gives her, to the warm guitars and upbeat tone, to the backup vocals of Seth Kaufman, Brooklyn Baby is a song to remember for all the right reasons.

Ride

Ride is one of Lana’s best, if not the best. With her devotion to America and her open thoughts about needing other people to make her feel good and happy, Lana knocks it out of the park with the superb step up from Born To Die.

Video Games

Video Games is just beautiful, plain and simple. Lana’s low voice, telling a flowing story of the simplicities of true love, are removed from her ‘famous singer’ image she constantly tried to portray and instead open up to the heart of what she has always sung about: love and its many forms, good or bad.

Get Free

The new take on Ride was a pleasant surprise. From changing the lyrics to show she wants to move on and be happy to (silently) name-dropping her influences, Lana’s manifesto was a personal song that we could all resonate with. The outro of the beach was the perfect closer to Lust For Life, and Get Free summarised the album which took her from sad girl to someone who could let herself move on.

Heroin

Heroin is no doubt one of her best. It’s tense and dark, referencing Manson and (allegedly) a friend she lost years ago. Lana lets herself dive into her worst thoughts headfirst, not so much dreamy as it is nightmarish, but still comes out the other side dreaming of marzipan and ready to move on.

Tulsa Jesus Freak

The third of the ‘Cherries’, Tulsa Jesus Freak goes straight to a happy place. Where Cherry was angry and Cinnamon Girl was cautious, this track dives into being comfortable with her man. It was just as passionate as the other two songs but about religion, sex and self-satisfaction.

Blue Jeans

Plucking guitars, crying violins and Lana weaving a tale about a gangsta who left her, without explanation, and the hurt that follows. Similarly tied to Dark Paradise, Blue Jeans is the next level of that, her tough-girl spoken verses dismissed as the choruses open up and she pours her heart out.

Cruel World

Lana is on top-form on this song, furious, maddened, sad, taunting – she hits every emotion with style. Lana grows more and more unstable as the song goes on, invoking images of a woman scorned and no longer taking that shit, but she still has a fragility about her as she comes undone that is tied directly to her Ultraviolence era.

Happiness Is A Butterfly

This song goes through many stages. She is unsure, not knowing how her lover feels. She is optimistic, elated as she tries to capture the butterfly. She is dismissive, no longer caring if she might get hurt – she loves too much. She is pissed off, sick of being treated badly. She gives in, simply wanting to dance and just be happy. The flow of this song is constant, a little messy, but it has the beautiful message pinned to it: to keep trying to be happy and do what you love.

Fuck It I Love You

I love the music video version more than the album version, the latter being more stripped back. Fuck It I Love You just gives in to emotion, acknowledging Lana is hurt, her lover is hurt, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him. She simply lets that feeling take over.

Cinnamon Girl

Cinnamon Girl touched me like no other Lana song has. Where Cherry was a mixture of emotions, good and bad, angry and loving, devastated and thrilled, Cinnamon Girl was about cautious optimism. Lana urges her lover to give in, and she knows – smiling as she sings it – she wins.

Venice Bitch

Venice Bitch just has that soothing, unhindered feel to it – and not just from the nine minutes of pure music and vibe. Lana dedicates this song to the kind of love that is just wholesome and homely, all whilst touching on her insanity, her ever-lasting love for America and the modern world (her live streams). It feels nostalgic yet contemporary, and adding the “fucks” and “bitch[es]” helps keep this song from being to sugary sweet but instead what it is – an honest love song rooted in the idealised and the realistic.

[barnes-dameron]

Hi there!! About requests - someone has already asked but another part of as strong as the force would be so GOOD

Reaching Out

Summary: After being away from you and the Child, the Mandalorian misses the two most important people in his life.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Gender neutral reader, usual with this story. Fluffy angst, and pining Mando. Catch up here --> Balance, As Strong as the Force

***

There was a point in Din’s life where he was used to being alone. There were times in his life where the only sound that filled the Razor Crest was the hum of the machinery, and he was content with that. But all that changed when you and the kid came along. He has grown used to Grogu’s constant cooing, or your soft humming when you thought you were alone. He longed for the times when he would find you fast asleep in either his bunk or in the passenger’s seat in the cockpit. But that was in the past. His ship was destroyed, and you and the kid were somewhere far from him.

It wasn’t the new found responsibility of being the leader of Mandalore that weighed him down. It wasn’t that, rather the loneliness. A part of him thought it would be easy to revert back to his old ways, but then Din realized that he doesn’t know how long it will be until he hears your laugh again or see Grogu’s dark eyes. There was a moment that Din entertained the thought of ruling Mandalore with you by his side. If there was no way for him to give the throne to Bo Katan, he thought he could take on this challenge. But of course, he only thought this with the implication that you were with him.

Upon meeting you, Din uncovered this newfound strength, as if he could take on anything that could face him. With you, he could let down the walls that he has built throughout the years. With you, he could be vulnerable with. But now with you gone, Din didn’t know what to do. There were times he couldn’t sleep without hearing your gentle breathing next to him. Sometimes he couldn’t eat, all food lost its taste. Everything seemed duller.

He loved you, there was no question about it. But he had to let you go. He knew that you would come back, but the wait is what was killing Din. He knew nothing of this Jedi way. How long will it take to train you? Will you come back with Grogu? Are you going to be different from when you left? Will you stop loving him?

Din tried his best to remember the details of your face, something he tried to memorize from the moment he met you: your brilliant smile, the bright color of your eyes, the softness of your lips. He remembered the tears shining in your eyes when you said your goodbye, the slight quiver in your voice, the feel of your hands on his face. He took off his helmet, being the only person around, taking a deep breath. Din couldn’t help but close his eyes, your face appearing behind his closed lids.

He saw your beaming face, the sun making your features glow from the first time he met you on Tatooine. The memory was so vivid it was like you were there in front of him. It was strange to Din, because in some way, he felt as if you were there, physically with him. Din kept his eyes closed, relishing in this feeling and not wanting it to slip away from his fingers. His face flinched a bit when he felt something touch his cheek. However, the touch was familiar. It was your touch, your gentle caress. Din’s heart began to quicken, and his eyes flew open.

He looked around frantically, trying to see any indication that you were there with him. But then his heart sank when the realization flooded through him. Din shut his eyes again, but was instead met with darkness instead of your face. He cursed himself for getting too excited, and losing the one time that he felt so close to you since your departure.

***

You kept your eyes closed, squeezing them harder as you tried again to reach out to him. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been away from the Mandalorian. You hoped he was okay; that Gideon was put away, and he figured out the whole Mandalore situation.

Every passing day, your heart ached for the man who is so far from you. Grogu has been a little restless as well, but you were there to comfort him and ease his mind the best way possible. You were happy to be with him, Grogu was the closest thing you had to Mando, and at least you both could miss the beskar clad warrior together.

You’ve been training hard each day with Luke, trying your best to master these abilities as fast as possible to return to your love. But some skills were easier than others. You’ve heard that it takes years for a Jedi to become a Master, and the thought of that nearly tore you down. But nevertheless, you calmed your mind. This situation isn’t permanent. Someday you all will be together again. You will be a family again: two Jedi and a Mandalorian.

However, the longing that you felt in your heart was unbearable at times. You sat down on the ground, crossing your legs and resting your pinched fingers on your knees. Closing your eyes and clearing your head, you reached out through the Force, searching for the man who held your heart. You couldn’t help but feel excited when you finally reached him.

His face appeared before yours; no helmet, just him. His eyes were sad, his hair disheveled, and the stubble on his cheek a bit longer than from the last time you have seen him. You smiled, finally seeing him after such a long time. You reached out, running your fingers along his cheek and even feeling the tiny hairs tickling your fingertips. You wanted this moment to last, but it was over in a second. Instead of seeing Mando’s face, you were met with inky darkness.  

You calmed your breathing, trying to prevent your heart from racing. Deep breath in, deep breath out, you chanted a message within your mind, projecting it so in hopes that it could reach the Mandalorian. That’s all you wanted to do; to communicate and feel as close to him as possible.  

***

Din let out a huff, and leaning his elbows forward to rest on his knees; giving up on seeing you like he did just minutes ago. He tried to meditate but quickly abandoned that plan thirty seconds in, deciding that it was stupid, pointless, and he felt silly doing it. He tried thinking of you and his favorite memories with you in hopes he could get that feeling of closeness again, but that was also a failure.

He’d just about given up, until he felt a tingle at the back of neck, making the hairs back there to stand up. Din straightened his back, instinctively rubbing his neck. It was then that a voice echoed throughout his head. It was your voice. Din’s heart began to quicken. It was like you were right there, talking to him. Din didn’t have to look around for you, but somehow he could feel your presence. As if you were there with him.

We’ll see each other again.

Din didn’t know if you meant that he would see your face again like he did moments before, or if you two will truly see each other in person in the future. Nevertheless, Din sighed in contentment, continuing to rub the back of his neck as a smile spread across his face. The time he had to wait for your return will be long, but the simple fact that you two will be together again was everything that Din needed to carry on.

Taglist: @tangledlove27 @absurdthirst @caswinchester2000 @16boyfriends-and-me

[bugbeee]

Pyrrhic for Pale King or rubatosis for Nightmare King Grimm? Hireaeth for Hornet or liberosis for Hollow/Pure Vessel? Morituro for Ghost or scrosciare for Quirrel or Lemm? So many of these prompts are so good for Hollow Knight--I can't make up my mind which ones I like the most. Feel free to do however many you feel up to--don't feel pressure to do every single one. Pick and chose!

Cookie, you are the light of my life and I adore you. I hope you enjoy these! Prompt list from here!

Pyrrhic (won at too great a cost):

Sitting on his throne, the Pale King wondered if he should be happy. They had won. He had won. The Radiance was sealed, and the infection would no longer plague Hallownest. And yet, the roiling in his stomach would not cease. Abruptly, he stood up, unable to keep himself still any longer. The palace halls were silent save for the swish of his robes. His daughter had been sent to train with Vespa a scant few cycles ago, and Root...

Well. Root had left long ago.

Only his retainers remained, and even they grew quieter and quieter with each passing day.

Despite the sealing, he knew that something uneasy continued to lurk within his kingdom. In the end, he truly was a blind fool, despite his foresight. He had seen it when he first saw the Pure- the Hollow Knight before him, and he had seen it again as he sent it to fulfill their duty.

No cost too great, he had said. And yet, he could not stop himself from weighing the innumerable sacrifices he made for... for nothing. Root had left a scant few cycles before the Knight’s sealing, though she had confided in him that it was not because of love for her hollow child. After such a harrowing experience, she needed to retreat. She would return soon, she said.

Wyrm didn’t need his foresight to know that was not true.

The Gendered Child had been sent away for her own safety, and for his own sanity. She raged with the loss of her mother, and after the attempt on her life, she could not sleep without being plagued by nightmares. He knew that the palace was unhealthy for her, that every waking moment was torture-

So he sent her away. Despite the betrayal on her face as he did so. Despite her screams of abandonment.

But he had to. He had to, because the assassin brought rumours of an orange plague, because bugs were acting strangely and mentioning dreams of gold, because-

He had already failed once as a father. He would not give her a parent she didn’t deserve. Not when she already had the love of her mother and step-mother.

Unable to keep walking, Wyrm collapsed to the floor, burying his face in his hands.

This was meant to be victory, he thought bitterly. So why did it feel so much like loss?

Morituro (someone who is destined to die):

Elderbug had been the only resident of Dirtmouth for a long time now. He had seen travellers come and go, always waiting for a familiar face to pop back up and return. Hoping, that perhaps one of them would stay. But no. His town remained empty, and had done so ever since the cloud of sickly sweet rot and sickness had risen from the well on the outskirts of town, luring bugs in with enticing promises of riches and glory. He had never seen the city below that travellers spoke about with such fervent excitement, never felt the own tug of wanderlust pulling him down into the depths of the forgotten kingdom.

No, he was always happier at his home, welcoming those who came by, and hoping that perhaps this time, one of them would stay. Once upon a time, his town had been filled quiet contentment, bugs living in comfort and harmony. It had been a happier time, even with the quiet whispers of Hallownest’s fall. But the days of life within his village had been long gone, and soon enough, he was the only one remaining, waiting in vain for someone, anyone to return and stay. While he enjoyed the quiet, he preferred to spend it with another person. The loneliness and isolation that had spread across his village like an infection had changed that quiet into an empty silence.

And yet... that had slowly begun to change, all thanks to his small masked friend. They had introduced new bugs into his town, had rekindled the flickering life of Dirtmouth, had given him new hope. Shops began to reopen, people moved back in, and he was no longer alone. There was still the gentle quietness of his town, but no pervasive silence that gripped his very carapace. Just for that, Elderbug owned them a debt, yet they never asked for anything in return, instead being content to simply sit on the bench beside him and bask in each other’s’ presence. His fondness for the childlike bug was not unlike that of a grandfather, and he could not help the soft affection that rose within him whenever they returned.

Despite the stench below, despite the dead kingdom beneath his feet, Elderbug was content again. His town was full, gentle life having drifted back in with the appearance of his friend. He wondered when they would cease their wanderings in the caverns below, and finally join them all above. He would not keep them from exploring, but their increased disappearances made him worry all the same. He hoped that soon, soon they would settle down. Was a quiet life not enough? Was being surrounded by friendly bugs not an adventure in itself?

But it was not his place to give voice to these thoughts, not when his friend was so eager to travel. He gave a soft sigh, watching the gentle lights sway in the quiet breeze, eyes flicking between the well and the Stag Station. And then, finally, the door of the Station opened, and out hopped the little traveler, something small clutched within their claws. Relief and joy warmed Elderbug’s heart, and he eagerly welcomed them to the bench.

“Hello, my friend. It is good to see you in good health. I admit, I grew worried when I heard the screeching from below, but seeing you whole is reassuring,” he said softly as they approached him.

His eyes fell upon the delicate flower in their hands, and Elderbug blinked in surprise.

“Hm? What a beautiful flower!” he exclaimed. “Why are you carrying around such an exquisite bloom?”

They looked at him, eyes unreadable as ever, but there was a quiet sadness in their posture, lit up with the slightest hint of affection as they reached out to offer him the bloom. Elderbug choked at the gesture, tears springing to his eyes as he took the flower with trembling claws.

“Thank you, my friend. Suddenly, the world seems a little less faded. I will take care of this flower while you are gone, so we can enjoy it together when you return,” he said hoarsely, so touched by the gesture that he missed the hint of sorrow and regret within his friend. The little one carefully sat down in their usual spot, shuffling slightly as they became comfortable.

Elderbug smiled softly at them, and took up his usual position beside them, basking in their quiet presence, but they patted the bench.

“Oh? Do you wish for me to sit with you? I am quite happy standing, especially if you wish to rest after such an adventure,” he explained, but they shook their head, and patted the bench again.

“Very well, my friend. I would be happy to sit by your side.”

He let his old, weary body sit beside them, the cold metal a comforting balm on his aching limbs. They rested together until Elderbug could feel his strength returning to him and his friend’s slumped body straightened. They turned to look at him, tilting their head at the flower tucked close to his arm, empty eyes seemingly cataloguing every piece of him.

He chuckled softly at their examination, and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped as his friend placed a claw over his. It was a fleeting gesture, yet comforting all the same, and Elderbug was reminded of a child grasping onto someone close for a shred of reassurance. They leapt off the bench before he could respond; only turning to look at him once as they headed towards the well. His friend lifted their hand in a small wave, and he could not help but think they looked so sad as they did so.

As though it was a final farewell.

“Next time,” he muttered, despite the hollow stone sat in his chest. “Next time I’ll ask them to stay.”

(Perhaps, had he known, he would have clung harder.)

Scrosciare (rain pouring down or waves hitting rocks):

Quirrel stared out beyond the lake, the soft crash of water against rocks echoing within his emptied mind. His tired eyes caught on the shimmering waves illuminated by the distant glow of lingering lumaflies. How strange to think that after all these years he would be in Hallownest again. His departure had been abrupt, spurred on his Madam’s eternal slumber. One end began there, and today, it would finally reach its conclusion. Even now, his memories were disjointed, caught on fragments of confusion and fog, but she still shone like a beacon in his mind, a gentle light guiding him within the tangled memories. If she were still here, she would disapprove of his plan, he thought. But she was not here.

She had been gone for a long time.

The soft patter of footsteps broke his musings, and he tilted his head towards his little friend, though his eyes never left the blue shore. It warmed him to know that despite the slow, stumbling death of Hallownest, he had still made a friend, and a dear one at that. Their silent presence had been a comfort throughout his journey through the decaying kingdom, and he had found himself eager to see his friend in every new place discovered. And now, they sat by him as he spoke fondly of being able to relive the beauty of Hallownest, of being able to meet them. They stayed as quiet as ever, and he couldn’t help but smile.

There was a quiet sadness about them, Quirrel thought to himself, and he wondered if they knew what he planned. His friend sat unmoving next to him, staring across the waters just as he had done a bare few moments ago. Together, they let the time slowly drift by, only the gentle flow of the waves giving any sense as to how long had passed. He sighed softly, and turned to face their friend, words ready to spill, but he paused. They were looking at him, eyes as empty as ever, but there was a mournful air around them, and a part of him thought that, were they able to, they would be crying.

“Friend?” he asked hesitantly.

They did not look away, studying him as intently as his Madam had shortly before-

Ah. So they did know then. Or at least guess.

“Do not worry about me, my small friend. I have wandered this world for a long time, have been lucky enough to experience more wonders and beauty’s than most bugs do in their life time. Mourn not for me, my dear friend. My duty has been fulfilled, and now I shall rest,” he said gently, letting his claw rest uncertainly on their head.

They seemed unconvinced, and took his hand with their own small ones, mask shaking in silent disapproval. Quirrel chuckled.

“Even without a voice, your scolding is clear. Tell me, what is there left for me to see?”

For him to live, went unspoken.

They swept a claw to the world around them, before pointing up, up, upwards.

“Hallownest is gone, my dear friend, choked by this infection. The village above will soon follow,” he murmured gently, but they shook their head vigorously again.

They grabbed their nail and swept it as though fighting some invisible foe.

“Oh? Shall you fight off the rest of this sickness then? Do you even know how?”

Do you know what it will cost, he did not say, instead staring at the little fellow besides him.

They nodded, dropping their nail and grabbing his claws again, staring hopefully up into his own face.

Well then.

“I see you won’t let me go that easily. Very well, my dear friend. I shall wait until you fight off this infection, so that I may see a clean Hallownest again. And who knows, maybe there will even be life again,” he said begrudgingly, but a small part of him was intrigued. Perhaps even excited. His Madam surely would hate for him to waste his life, certainly before even giving the revival of Hallownest a chance.

Waiting wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Not with his friend by his side, not with the quiet hope they still inspired. Quirrel had long since forgotten how or where the infection came from, or even how it was contained, aside from the Dreamer’s Seal, but he believed in his small friend. If anyone could do it, then surely, surely them.

“If that is the case, then I shall meet you above in Dirtmouth, once it is all over. But for now, I will enjoy this moment for a while longer. You are welcome to stay, or continue your quest, but your company is never unwanted.”

The little Ghost plonked themselves back next to him, and the two of them watched the lake together until Quirrel could feel his eyes closing, lulled into a gentle sleep with the steady comfort of his friend.

The waves lapped gently against the rocks.

[itsuki-minamy]

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

EPILOGUE: TO BE CONTINUED (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

The "Green King" looked at the monitor and muttered under his breath.

"The Weissmann deviation of the 'Colorless King', the Weissmann deviation of Adolf K. Weissmann and the Weissmann deviation of Mikoto Suoh have disappeared."

The man in priest's clothing next to him frowned at the simple words of the "Green King."

"In the end, the 'Golden King' didn't move."

"Yes, but there is a record that the 'Golden King' communicated with the 'Silver King'. Maybe he entrusted everything to the 'Silver King', or..."

The "Green King" slightly raised the edge of his mouth.

"Does the 'Golden King' no longer have enough power to move on its own?"

A child sitting under the feet of the "Green King" snorted when he heard it.

"If the most troublesome guy is seriously getting old, isn't that convenient for us?"

"Affirmative. It may not be long before we get out."

A sleek young man leaning on the couch looked at the "Green King" with tentative eyes under his long lashes.

"But it's a shame that your obsessive 'Silver King' died so easily. Or rather, the immortal 'King' actually died, didn't he?"

"What about that?"

The "Green King's" eyes gleamed as if waiting for something. His eyes were looking at the state of the school island when he was about to settle through the monitor.

"The "Silver King" is an immutable king. Even if the body was abducted by the interference of the "Colorless King", his soul escaped immutable without being invaded. Once again, his "immutability" may still be alive, although it seems that it has been burned by the flames of the destruction of the 'Red King'."

"Kuwa! Kuwa!"

The parrot, who was sitting on the "Green King's" shoulder, made a loud noise.

This parrot was a friend and go-between for the "Green King". He also had a conversation with the "Colorless King" through this parrot.

The "Green King" put his cheeks on his head as if he was aiming at a parrot.

"If the 'Silver King' is alive, he will be back soon. This time, the 'Silver King' will be on my game board."

All his friends looked at the "Green King". Everyone felt that his body was silent, but releasing a large amount of energy.

++++++++++

After sending Kukuri to the place where the other students were evacuating, Kuro joined Neko and returned to Gakuenjima to search for the boy.

Neko seemed to have slept the entire time after using great power. The current situation didn't swallow well, and she was walking fast on an unstaffed school island, rolling her big eyes, only to find that the boy was purely lost.

Kuro knew that the boy headed into the battle between the "Red King" and the "Blue King", keeping the soul of the "Colorless King" trapped in his body. He witnessed the bright red column of fire that tore through the heavens with the full blow of the "Red King" and the fall of the red sword of Damocles.

Later, he crossed the connecting bridge in Gakuenjima alone and confirmed the appearance of the "Blue King" Munakata returning from a distance. He couldn't tell Neko what those facts meant.

The sun was bent, and the red light of twilight stained the uneven island of the school. The place where Suoh and Munakata transformed into a battlefield, had a particularly large mark of destruction, showing the ferocity of the battle.

He crossed between the trees that were burned black and felled, and finally they headed to the place where they could see a huge column of fire. Neko followed with an anxious look behind Kuro who was walking silently.

The column of fire rose around the shrine at the rear of Gakuenjima. Climbing up the long stone steps that collapsed after the battle that followed the shrine, Kuro made his way to the place with Neko.

As soon as she climbed the stone steps and opened her eyes, for Neko who was small, it was impressive.

In the shrine precincts, the soil was excavated like a crater and did not retain its original shape.

As they approached the rim of the crater, the ground was still warm and the temperature was transmitted underneath the shoes. Kuro walked slowly along the edge.

Suddenly, Neko screamed and ran off, yelling "Shiro!" Kuro reflexively waited for Neko to run.

However, what was there was not the figure of the boy, but the red umbrella that the boy always had.

The umbrella sank deep into the ground like a tombstone. Neko grabbed the handle of the umbrella and pulled hard to remove it.

"Uh, it doesn't want to go out!"

With Neko's power, the umbrella half buried in the ground did not move, but Neko's hand slipped and fell back. Kuro slowly approached and took out the umbrella instead of Neko. Neko desperately jumped on the umbrella Kuro was holding.

"Give it to me! I'll give it to Shiro!"

Seeing her hug the umbrella carefully, a sad thing rushed into his chest.

"Hey, Neko. You won't be able to hand it over to Shiro anymore."

He spoke those words to her in the softest voice possible. The words he spoke returned to his thoughts and he felt pain.

Neko filled with tears in her eyes and made a wet voice.

"No! I'll give it to Shiro! I'll give it to Shiro!"

It became difficult and Kuro involuntarily strengthened his vocabulary.

"Listen to me! Shiro is…!"

"Because Shiro is a 'King'!"

Before Neko who yelled that at him with a desperate face, Kuro was shocked and lost his words.

(I am the immortal "King".)

The appearance of the boy who said that with a kind expression and a calm voice revived in his mind.

That could have been a manifestation of the boy's intention to go back to Kuro and Neko.

A gentle tidal-scented breeze blew from the sea, caressing Kuro's skin to comfort him. In his heart, Kuro chanted a phrase.

(Embracing resignation, the curtain does not fall.)

He once encouraged the boy with that phrase. He wasn't going to give up. Where are you? He mentally asks the boy. He chided himself for trying to give up hope of finding him.

He walked over to Neko, who was hugging the umbrella and stiffened, and Kuro gently approached her.

"That's right. Shiro is our 'King'."

Neko stared at Kuro in amazement, and she stared into Kuro's eyes for a while, trying to discern with her large eyes.

Finally, Neko relaxed her strengthened body and placed her hand on Kuro's.

The thin white hand of her partner was tightly wrapped by Kuro and he pulled hard.

Neko held the boy's umbrella in one arm, held one hand in Kuro's and stood up.

++++++++++

Reporting how the Weissmann deviations of the three "Kings", "Colorless King", "Silver King" and "Red King" disappeared, Daikaku Kokujoji replied with a single word, "Yes."

The "rabbit" gently looked at the Lord's face from under his face. There was no sadness on his face with the deep drag that makes you feel the years that he has lived.

The "rabbits" also hid a war-etched face under the rabbit-shaped face. It is an old "rabbit" that only differs ten times from the normal path. For many years, he was the oldest "rabbit" that had slipped through "Tokijikuin" and moved like his limbs.

This is why he realized that Kokujoji did not have a calm heart now.

This rabbit knew that while Kokujoji Daikaku was a solid and unshakable person, he had an old friend who lived in the soft part of his heart.

The reason why he changed the figure to "Golden King" was to rebuild Japan, which was devastated after the war. In fact, thanks to him, there is now development in this country. At the same time, Kokujoji continued to be the "King" and to defend the Dresden "Slate" due to the friendships and dreams that were cultivated in Germany during the war.

(Only I will be the ideal "King", so he watches from there.)

The "rabbit" never forgot the expression of determination that young Kokujoji had, looking towards the Himmelreich, the airship in which Adolf K. Weissmann was on board, which arrived in Japan. It was the moment when the "rabbit", who was still a child, decided to dedicate himself to his path.

"His Excellency..."

The "rabbit" involuntarily called out to the Lord, called out to him, but did not know how to continue his words after that.

Kokujoji opened his mouth before the "rabbit" found the words.

"Prepare for the departure of the 'Meifu (Underworld)'."

The "rabbit" opened his eyes. The "Meifu" was the same type of airship that Weissmann had that crashed, the "Sky" Himmelreich, and was kept secret by Kokujoji in case of emergency.

"That is the immortal 'King'."

The "rabbit" said that to get ahead of Kokujoji's response.

He was embarrassed by the misunderstanding that he thought that the reason Kokujoji's heart was not calm was because of grief over the loss of an important old friend.

The "rabbit" bowed deeply.

"Yes."

"What about his clan members?"

"Kuro Yatogami, who was a member of the Ichigen Miwa clan, and a Strain girl who calls herself Neko."

"Fix the room where he lived at school, and make it the base of them. Tell them: 'Wait for your Lord in this room.'"

"Yes, his Excellency."

The "rabbit" quickly turns around and begins to move to fulfill the Lord's intentions.

Things related to the "Silver King" are not over yet.

++++++++++

He washes off Mikoto Suoh's blood from his hands.

The red one, symbolizing the man who so upset Munakata, was easily washed away by running water and disappeared.

The world seemed to be broken due to the cracks in the crystals that entered during the battle.

The gesture of washing off the blood and drying wet hands with a towel became complicated. He realized that now he was upset.

"Captain."

Awashima's voice was heard. Hearing the voice that was the flag, Munakata's disturbed emotions subsided and he returned to the control of order.

"All students on the evacuated school island were confirmed to be safe. Students whose bodies have been abducted by the 'Colorless King' do not appear to have sequelae. Only the slightly injured, but the injured students were taken to the hospital in cooperation with the ambulance team."

"Okay. Good job."

"I have confirmed all of the Gakuenjima students, but... the girl named Neko and Kuroh Yatogami, who were working with Yashiro Isana, are missing."

"That's all."

Munakata turned to Awashima. The scar on the flank stabbed by the Red Clan member who was kidnapped by the "Colorless King" was small. It was a shooting pain that did not go away after treatment.

"I wanted to ask them about the detailed history about the circumstances of the incident, but... it can't be helped, especially since the ability of that girl named Neko is difficult to trace."

"Yes.", Awashima took control and looked at Munakata as if he was looking at her. Just looking at Awashima, Munakata realized that he was somewhat disturbed even when he was seen from the edge.

"Awashima-kun. He had never made a mistake before."

Awashima didn't reply and urged him with only her eyes. Munakata continued steadily.

"But this time I made a mistake... I couldn't stop that guy."

Looking only at the results, Munakata will be the "King" who stopped Damocles from Suoh's fall. But that was what Suoh wanted. Suoh broke Munakata's restraint and ran down the road to ruin, and Munakata was only forced to clean up after that.

Awashima didn't say anything about how Munakata stopped the "Red King". He simply said "Yes." with a serious face.

Feeling safe from it, Munakata smirked to himself.

"How disrespectful. I complained."

"I'm your assistant. Tell me anything."

"That is reliable."

When Munakata smiled, Awashima's expression, which did not break her serious attitude, suddenly shuddered when she looked back.

Munakata looked back to follow her gaze.

There were countless little red lights there.

A group of small red lights moved like fireflies out of season and rose into the sky like sparks. The red lights were born from the bodies of "Homura", who looked in the direction of Gakuenjima at the seashore below the connecting bridge.

"This is…"

Awashima was impressed. Munakata also closed his eyes and looked at the scene.

"Part of Clansman's power is undone with the death of the 'King'. It is ironic that such a violent and selfish man left this dreamlike vision behind."

Fushimi stood by the bridge railing in a stunned atmosphere. He held the area around the left clavicle with his hand. Munakata knew that there was a "mark" burned in that place, from when he was in the red clan in the past.

From Fushimi's body, a small red light spilled out from the place where the "mark" was and soared into the sky.

Munakata, who was silently looking at Fushimi looking at the red light rising from his body with a face like a lost child, suddenly felt a signal to flee the school island.

A familiar kitten and a black dog run in a straight line.

"Oh."

It was the girl Strain and Kuroh Yatogami, of whom Awashima had lost their whereabouts, although they were taking the form of a small animal by reconnaissance operation.

Munakata thought for a moment and ignored it as he was.

Just today, he couldn't feel like catching and questioning those who had lost their precious loved ones.

++++++++++

For a long time no one could move.

The fall of the sword of Damocles. There was no one there who didn't know what that meant.

And more than that, each of them felt the loss of their main existence due to the flames they had on their bodies.

Yata, who would have been angry if he had explained it in words, would have insisted that he did not believe it, but he was stunned without saying a word about the fact that he felt with the flame as his soul.

Kusanagi also stood up without saying anything, holding up Anna, who had collapsed from calling Suoh so much until she was speechless, and continued to look up at the sky over Gakuenjima, where the sword had disappeared.

Finally, the accelerating winter sun set, and the sky dyed only the western edge light red, filling in the signs of the night.

Anna in his arms was no longer crying, and she looked down expressionlessly as if she had turned into a real doll. He had to take her back to a warm place early.

Cooled by the snowy winter air, Kusanagi thought he had to tell them something.

Suoh was not there, who was already a pillar. Not even Totsuka to laugh and empower Kusanagi when he was having a hard time.

Kusanagi had no choice but to speak to his disappointed companions.

However, the words weren't going up Kusanagi's throat at all.

Maybe anything he digested would bring them up to speed. No, when he thought it was his role to chase after him, Kamamoto uttered a low voice.

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

What Kamamoto said was the motto of "Homura".

No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!

A word that inspired them before the battle and was spoken as an open voice so that they all became a single flame.

But at the same time, it was a word of mourning for those who died.

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

In response to Kamamoto, the people around him chanted and raised their voices, pushing their fists skyward.

He tightened his voice to sublimate his sadness, and at least he was proud to hide the pitiful appearance from Suoh that left.

Yata, who was crying in a daze, saw his friends cry and raised his fist without wiping his tears.

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

The men's voices became one, and the air swayed and echoed.

In it, Kusanagi saw a flaming butterfly soaring.

He was surprised to remember the butterfly that Totsuka used to skillfully make with his own flame, but if he looked closely, it was not a butterfly.

It was a small red light that had no shape. It dance like a fluffy butterfly and climb to the sky.

A small light rose from the bodies of "Homura" members. The light that was born from each and every one of them pointed to the sky as if they were trying to serve Suoh. Some of Suoh's flames may have unraveled and separated.

Kusanagi also felt a fever around the right shoulder blade with the "mark." A red light emerged from Kusanagi's body.

Kusanagi's light flew into the sky with the same smooth movement as everyone's light. As the cold white snow billowed from top to bottom, the sight of the warm red light fluttering from bottom to top was fantastic, and Kusanagi breathed trembling.

Anna licked her lips too and stared at the cluster of red lights. Anna descended from Kusanagi's arms, spread her arms and looked up at the sky.

"It's a beautiful red..."

Anna murmured in a low, soft voice.

Kusanagi thought that this scene might be the last gift Suoh gave Anna, and that it was too romantic.

(The king's flames are not all terrifying. They are warm and clean.)

"Can you hear us, Mikoto?"

Kusanagi muttered, narrowed his eyes and looked up at the sky. Red light gathered in the air and colored the dark night sky red.

Perhaps due to the temperature of the light, his body heated up before he knew it, even though he was under the snowy sky.

Mikoto Suoh was a man who was not suitable to be "King". Kusanagi still believed it.

Still, Mikoto Suoh was the "King" more than anyone.

He was amazed with fierce flames, fascinated by the beautiful red, cured at a mild temperature, ran alone and wasted away.

To everyone who gathered here, Mikoto Suoh was a "King".

++++++++++

Isana Yashiro was floating.

Although his body was burned to pieces, Isana Yashiro's existence hadn't disappeared and he was floating somewhere.

(This is death?)

The boy thought about that, even though it was something absurd to think about.

When that happened, he felt that everything up to now had been a long dream.

Researcher Adolf K. Weissmann. A trilogy of Weissmann's dream, the dream of the passerby "Silver King" and the dream of a peaceful high school student, Yashiro Isana.

It was all over and he feared that he would not be able to go to heaven or hell.

(That's fine?)

That was the reality of the boy's thinking, which was fluffy like a dream.

(Adolf K. Weissmann, "Silver King", and Isana Yashiro, do you still have something to do?)

(I am the immortal "King".)

Remembering his words that he had left behind, the boy tried to fight even though he had no arms. He tried to figure out where that was, even though he had no eyes. He tried to listen without ears, pay attention to the smell without a nose, and try to find the feeling of the environment without skin.

Sister. Lieutenant. Neko. Kuro.

He tried to name the ones he was thinking of, even though he had neither a throat nor a mouth.

For the first time, Isana Yashiro struggled to live.

[amazedforjjk]

Escape 6 - Ot7

The gif is not mine!

Characters: Lion!Namjoon, Jaguar!Jin, Black panther!Yoongi, Cheetah!Hoseok, Snow Leopard!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, cougar!Jungkook, Serval!Reader

Summary: In a world where Hybrid protection laws are gradually strengthening, many organisations are still advocating for the complete extermination of your species. What happens when you find yourself and 7 other predatory hybrids in a truck en route to a hybrid slaughter facility?

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warning: None in this chapter

A.N: Here is chapter 6! It took a bit more time to write, but I’m happy of the result. I believe that the end of this fic is near! There should be another chapter and an epilogue coming! I hope you’ll like this chapter as well! I also almost deleted the whole chapter because I’m a dumbass so yeah ajbajbcjk

Word count: 4K

<Previous//Next>

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You start to wake as the bus sputters to a stop. It takes you a second to remember exactly where you are, lifting your head from Hoseok’s shoulder to look around. At the motion, the hybrid turns to face you and he smiles happily at you, his eyes shaped like moon crescents. His thumb rubs circles on your skin to greet you wordlessly and he returns to stare outside. You yawn while looking out the window, taking in the foreign environment.

The bus is in the middle of the bus station’s parking lot. The place is busy, the flows of people boarding their buses making your head spin. Seeing that you are barely awake, the rustling of the city is too much to bear for your heightened senses right now, and you peel your eyes from the flood of bodies to focus instead on the hybrids across from you. Namjoon and Jin are preparing to hop off the bus, gathering their stuff, and you start to do the same, eager to reach the center. The eight of you exit the bus fairly quickly and start to make your way through the crowd towards an information center.

You grab onto Jimin’s hand to walk through the crowd, putting on a brave face to disguise your own anxiety. If the city is not an unfamiliar scenery for you, the crowd here is much bigger and rowdier than the one you are accustomed to. Your ears catch shouts and children’s cries, as well as languages of all sorts, most of them foreign to you. Your nose is filled with new smells and you grip the blond hybrid’s hand tighter as the assault on your senses starts to make you even more nervous. You maintain your eyes trained on Jin’s broad back in front of you, the eldest hybrid leading you through the mob.

The information center is quieter, isolated from the noises of the city and you feel yourself relax, the tension in your shoulders easing off. You slowly lessen your grip on Jimin’s hand but he doesn’t let go. You cast him a questioning glance, and he just responds with a shy smile, gripping your hand a little tighter. You feel your cheeks heat up but you brush it off, simply squeezing gently his hand back. You are not the one to refuse affection, especially not coming from any of the seven hybrids accompanying you.

You look away from Jimin, instead focusing on your surroundings. The information center is luminous. Its walls are made of glass, so that it’s visible from the outside by visitors. Few people are actually in the center, some of them asking directions at the central booth, the others looking at maps displayed around the center. The eight of you approach one of the booths to be welcomed by a smiling assistant. The man, along with his colleagues, is dressed in a white and blue striped uniform and sports a blue cap adorned with a question mark. While Jin and Yoongi ask for directions, you move towards Taehyung with Jimin in tow, the tiger staying back from the group.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” you ask, hoping he might change his mind. After all that you’ve been through together, it seems too weird to part ways now. He ponders for a minute, clearly unsure about his choice, making you hopeful.

“No.. I- I think I’m sure. I want to find her again. She’s my owner after all”, he says, a small apologetic smile tugging at his lips. Your heart sinks, and next to you you can see Jimin’s ears drop dejectedly. You’ve grown fairly close to the seven hybrids, and the thought of losing even one of them leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You know for a fact that you are not the only one downcast at the idea that the tiger is planning to leave you. But there is nothing that we can do, can we?

If Taehyung is so keen on finding his former owner, you can only respect his choice, and hopefully you should still be able to see each other. It’s not unusual for owners to organize playdates, and if Taehyung likes her so much she must be a good enough person to let her hybrid meet his friends.

“Will you be okay finding her place?” Jimin asks, worry evident in his voice. His eyes are pleading with the younger hybrid to stay but to no avail.

“Yeah, I kinda know the neighborhood”, he says, gesturing around before his eyes fall back on the blonde hybrid tightly gripping your hand. “I’ll be fine Jimin”, he concludes, taking the older hybrid in his arms, making Jimin’s hand leave yours. The two of them stay like that for a few seconds before you can hear soft whimpers coming from Jimin. The others gather around as they finally have the route to the center written down by the lovely assistant. The atmosphere is pregnant with sadness as the two hybrids let go of each other, Jimin’s shoulders slumping down as he bids his final goodbye to Taehyung.

The males all take turns saying farewell to the tiger, emotion written plainly on their features. Hope and Jungkook are close to tears, while Jimin is hiding his puffy eyes against Jin’s broad chest, the eldest rubbing his back to comfort him. You are the last to say your goodbyes to Taehyung, standing in front of him waiting for your turn. Neither of you say anything before you take him in your arms, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He holds you tightly, burying his nose at the base of your neck while you press your forehead against his shoulder.

“This is not goodbye.., right? You’ll come see us?”, you whisper quietly, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt so that he is the only one to hear you.

“Of course I will, Y/n” he answers, and you feel his hot breath on your skin. You sob into his shoulder, holding him even closer. “I don’t think I’d be able to live without seeing you ever again”, he adds, his fingers pressing into your back.

You don’t want to let go, because then he’ll have to leave. You don’t know when you’ll be able to see him again so you take in as much as you can. The way his strong arms hold you, unwilling to let you go just yet either, his nose rubbing against the side of your neck, scenting you ever so slightly. The way he stiffens at the loss of contact when you start to pull back from his grip. The sad look in his gaze when you find his gold eyes making your heart ache. You can’t pinpoint the moment when you became so greedy, so greedy for their affection, for each of them to be happy in your arms, but you feel the urge to protect each of them. To protect them, like a family protects each other...

“You should be able to find us if you go to the center as well and ask for us”, Yoongi announces, breaking your transe. The tiger only hums in response, his sad eyes still lost in yours. He presses his lips together as if to find the courage in himself to leave you, and you finally break contact, his hands falling limply at his sides. You hug yourself, repressing the want to take him back and force him to come with you.

The eight of you exit the information center, stepping once again in the busy bus station. This time, you make a point to tune out the foreign noises and smells to focus solely on the tiger hybrid. He faces all of you, sending each hybrid an apologetic smile.

“I’ll come see you once everything will have settled back. Thank you guys. I’ll see you soon”

Taehyung waves one last time before turning and walking away from you. You hear a whimper behind you, and you reach out to take Jimin’s hand in your own, eyes still trained on Taehyung’s back. This is not goodbye, you remind yourself, and you turn back to Jin and Yoongi.

“Alright, where are we going next?”

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The rehabilitation center being fairly close to the bus station, the journey only took a thirty minutes walk. You are grateful for the short trip, your feet currently killing you, and you start to feel your sides becoming sore. You took the opportunity to buy lunch for the seven of you with the remnants of Granny’s money, stopping by a small coffee shop. The mood is gloomy on the way, and the lunch is eaten in silence. You can’t help but feel sullen, Taehyung’s departure having a bigger impact on you than you thought. At least, the rest of us are together, you think to yourself.

The center is impressive and you can only stare in awe in front of the everlasting flow of humans and hybrids alike entering or exiting through the black door ornamented in gold. The building in itself looks relatively old, walls made of stone, but you can tell the center is new, boxes of papers laying about, and a banner barely hiding the words “High Court” carved in gold in the stone. The building had obviously been repurposed quite recently, and apprehension gnaws on your stomach. If their building is still fairly new, how are they going to find a house for 7 predatory hybrids?

You swallow hard to repress your uneasiness, determined to make this work. We need this. You startle a bit when you feel a hand snake around yours and turn to find Jungkook staring kindly at you. He must have sensed your worry. You send him a grateful smile, suddenly feeling braver as you realise you are not alone and you squeeze his hand. You turn your head to look at the five other hybrids.

“Let’s go?”, you propose, and the seven of you walk towards the door.

The inside of the center is just as magnificent as the outside, grey marble on the floor. The vast room you just entered is luminous thanks to its big windows, and big stairs in the middle of the room are leading towards the upper levels. Makeshift offices are propped up against the sidewalls of the room, several hybrids talking to human assistants, probably here for the same reason as you.

An assistant makes her way towards you, eyeing the seven of you curiously. Seven predatory hybrids arriving at the same time must be unusual for them to say the least, given the look on her face. She doesn’t look displeased though, mostly inquisitive, and she greets you all with a warm smile on her face.

“Can I be of help?”, she asks, making eye contact with all of you. Her emerald eyes radiate happiness and comfort, making you relax instantly. You don’t know why but you immediately trust that she will do everything in her power to help you, and you smile back at her.

“Yes please, we would like a home”, you answer simply, and she nods in understanding at you, beckoning you to follow her. She leads you up the stairs towards an office. Unlike the improvised desks downstairs, the offices are well organised on this floor, the center having reinstated old lawyer offices. The blond woman stops outside an office and she knocks three times before stepping in, leaving the seven of you outside the door. Muffled voices reach your ears, but you don’t have time to make out anything before she steps out again, along with a small man wearing a tired black suit. He looks beat, his brown hair a mess and he takes time to clean his glasses before eyeing you all up and down.

He doesn’t look very intimidating, rather grumpy, small wrinkles protruding when he squints at the sight before him, as if he was scanning your intentions. He hums disapprovingly and furrows his eyebrows. For a second, you fear he is going to refuse to help you and you hold your breath before he turns to the assistant.

“I won’t have enough chairs for all of them, Christa. Could you bring three more for me please?”, he announces simply, holding three fingers in the air, and you feel your shoulders sag in relief. He invites the seven of you in, apologizing for the lack of seats. Namjoon pushes you gently to take a seat and you comply without a word as he stands behind you, hands on your shoulders. Jimin, Yoongi and Hoseok take a seat too, Hoseok sitting beside you and the little man settles on the other side of the desk, tapping away on his computer.

You take this moment to scour the small room. Papers and case files of different colors are scattered on the wooden desk in front of you, along with a few photos of the man in front of you with what you believe might be his family. Behind him, a big window illuminates the room and another desk is littered with papers and a printer and wooden bookshelves are propped up against the sidewalls, covered in law and hybrid related books.

Christa comes back after a few minutes with some chairs, and the man finally lifts his head from his computer screen. When she leaves the room and all hybrids are seated, he pushes back his glasses and rests his chin on his clasped hands. He clears his throat before starting to talk, making eye contact with all of you.

“My name is Emilio Cantery, and I’m a hybrid’s right advocate. I work here along with my husband who is the director of this center”, he announces, his plump fingers coming to scratch his brown hair behind his head.

“If you are here, you must know that this facility provides shelter and homes for hybrids that suffered abuse from humans. We can either find humans to shelter you, or we can provide houses.” He pauses before chuckling.

“At the grimace you just pulled, I understand you are looking for a house for your pack, and no humans”, he says, pointing to Yoongi. The latter smiles embarrassed and looks away, hand coming to scratch his neck. You grin fondly at the sight of his cheeks flushing in a pretty pink before focusing back on the man in front of you.

“Of course, we would need you to work a bit in order to pay for the house and first necessity items. We either can help you find a job in the center to help welcome other hybrids and take care of administration duties, or you can find a job you fancy and we would just take a bit of money from your paycheck each month”, he explains. This does make sense, and it’s more than generous of them, you think to yourself.

“At least until you’ve settled and can take care of your own needs, we will happily provide you with what you need. And when you’ll have “paid” for the house, we won’t bother you anymore”, he clarifies, chuckling at the last sentence.

Around you, the hybrids seem as enthusiastic as you are feeling. Tails are swishing left and right, ears flickering. The center is legit, and this is the first step towards home! You feel excitement buzzing inside your veins, a warm feeling enveloping your heart. You have to repress a squeal of trepidation. You take Hoseok’s hand and squeeze. He looks at you, a big grin illuminating his features. Emilio smiles at your excitement before focusing back on his computer. He hums, deep in thoughts and he taps away on his keyboard again.

“I understand that you want to stay together, right?” he asks, and Jin answers positively. He hums again, brows furrowing as he reads the computer screen. “We do have some big houses, a bit farther from the city. Since we don’t usually have a lot of packs coming here we should have some available quite quickly”, he says as he spins in his seat to retrieve papers from the printer.

“But before I need you to give me some information, of course”, he mentions, turning back his attention to you. “I would need your name, date of birth, if you know it, species, where you were born, whether you come from a shelter, breeders or a lab, etc.”

He gathers the information from the seven of you, entering the data in his computer. He prints other papers and turns around to file them. Once done, he looks at you seriously, brows furrowed and hands knitted together. He clears his throat before talking.

“If it’s not too intrusive, I’d like to know what happened to you all before coming here.”

The mood of the room instantly drops, and Emilio picks up on that, eyes immediately darkening.

“We escaped a truck en route to a slaughter facility”, you utter with a meek voice and Emilio curses under his breath. He sighs audibly and takes his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“I’m sorry”, he says simply before sighing again. He gathers your file and displays photos of different houses in front of all of you. “Let’s find you a home where you’ll be happy. Here are some houses I’m thinking about for you.”

He brings one listing closer to all of you. “This one is, I think, best suited for you. Big garden, three bathrooms, six bedrooms but there are offices that can be changed into bedrooms. The kitchen is fairly big as well and the living room has a big table, it should be able to fit the seven of you.”

“Eight”, Jimin whispers simply, staring at his open hands and you can’t help to look at the ground.

“Eight? Well I think it should be able to accommodate eight people, yeah..” He says, a bit disconcerted, curiously eyeing your stomach, but you don’t notice. Beside you, Hoseok snickers at his puzzled expression. Emilio clears his throat, and suddenly rises from his desk, prompting you to do the same.

“You can stay seated”. You do as he says.

“I’m going to fetch you a driver to bring you at the house and I’m going to deliver this file to the administration office. Normally we’d ask you to stay in the shelter while we organize everything, but I think you deserve to settle down in your new home as fast as possible”, he says, sadness evident in his eyes. “The houses are already furnished with the bare minimum, and we’ll provide you with some food and clothes for the time being”

“All you have to know is that you are safe now. We’ll take care of you”, he concludes, stepping out of his office, file in hand.

This is it, we are going to find our home.

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The visit of the houses starts after Emilio manages to find two cars to fit the seven of you, the center lacking vans to drive packs. The ride is long enough for you to doze off on Namjoon’s shoulder while he gently pets your tail, gazing absently at the scenery out the window. He wakes you up by rubbing your shoulder when the car arrives at its destination.

You are completely taken aback by the size of the house in front of you, left to stare in awe while Jungkook and Hoseok jump around excitedly, shouting in delight. You can already tell that Emilio was right, this does seem like the best fit for all of you. The house stands alone alongside the road, the neighbors’ house at least an acre away. The house is two stories, the front porch supported by wooden pillars with vines running along them. Emilio beckons you to enter the door.

The front door leads directly into a vast living room, equipped with large couches and a fireplace. An open kitchen stands against the side wall, warm tones inviting. Behind the living room is a big glass sliding-door, leading into a huge garden, perfect for all of you. You can make out a small patio with a small outdoors table and a hamac. The decoration is quite sparse, but that is something you’ll deal with later.

There are 3 bedrooms, a bathroom and an office on the first floor. The bedrooms are not very big, but quite cosy, queen sized beds in all of them along with storing space for clothes. The stairs lead up to the rest of the bedrooms and bathrooms, and a big commonplace where you can already picture bookshelves and several comfy chairs.

You visit along with Hoseok and Jin, the other boys running around the house with trepidation, while Yoongi is already sleeping on one of the couches. “I was testing it”, he later said, an adorable grin plastered on his face, making you laugh. You just step out of one of the final offices upstairs, the biggest in the house when Emilio comes to greet you, sporting a happy smile. He seems much more relaxed now than at the center, happy wrinkles showing when he smiles.

“Did you visit each of the rooms? I bet this office could be changed into a nursery!” he says warmly, eyes settling on your stomach. At his words your eyes widen in shock and confusion. Next to you, Jin chokes on his own spit, blue eyes bulging out of their sockets. Hoseok is the only one who laughs loudly, liking this way too much. At the reactions in front of him, Emilio’s eyes widen and you stammer, unable to form a coherent sentence just yet.

“Yes, this would make a great nursery for the baby”, Hoseok answers maliciously once he calmed down, hands coming to cradle your stomach as he smirks at you mischievously, and Emilio releases the breath he was holding, reassured. You don’t have the heart to tell him the truth just yet, deciding to change the subject at once.

“This house is perfect”, you simply respond after clearing your throat to chase your embarrassment. You turn to look at the hybrids next to you. Jin is red from refraining to laugh, tears threatening to spill from his eyes and Hoseok is still smirking at you, his hand having left your stomach to rest at the small of your back. “Should we gather everyone?”

No sooner said than done, Emilio and the seven of you are gathered in the living room. Jungkook is positively buzzing, tail swishing in excitement, the rest of you beaming in happiness and trepidation, even Yoongi who was woken up from his nap. Emilio hums to gather your attention.

“It seems that you are all smitten by the house. I’d say that this might be your new home”, he says, grinning even more when he catches your excited nods. He claps his hands together.

“Alright then, we’ll let you settle for today and I’ll take care of the papers, we shall deliver you some food and necessities later this afternoon. I’ll be in touch with you for the next few days to organize your new life here.”

Emilio gathers his files as the seven of you thank him and you stand up to see him out. Once you reach the door, Taehyung suddenly pops up in your head.

“Emilio..”, you say softly, catching his attention, and he hums in response. “There is another one of us… Taehyung, he is a tiger. Maybe he will come to the center to find us again. That won’t be a problem will it?” His face suddenly becomes more serious.

“Of course not Y/n, it won’t be a problem at all, we will lead him here”

He steps out on the porch before stopping dead in his tracks. He turns slowly to look at you uncertainly, his fingers coming to scratch at the base of his neck.

“So… He is the eight one, isn’t he?” You smile at him awkwardly, confirming his suspicion. He sighs deeply, and you can’t help but chuckle at his abashed expression. He chuckles at himself while shaking his head in disbelief before looking at you one last time, smiling earnestly.

“Good luck Y/n”, is all he says before leaving, and you smile one last time at him before closing the door.

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I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you thought of this chapter, I love hearing from you!

💜

<Previous//Next>

[miioouu]

Single Father Bakugo (3) Birthday Dad

More cute single pa Baku!! Honestly idk i just got this idea randomly sooo. Also idk if i said I'll update you guys on Single Father bakugou once a week, buuuut i don't think that's true, I'll post a part anytime an idea comes to my mind. Anyway HAPPY BIRTHDAY BAKUBOO❤️

Ten months…. 

It's been almost a year since Bakugo was taking care of his little baby. Ever since, his life seemed a little brighter, a little more colorful. Even behind his tired, sleep deprived eyes, happiness and joy can be seen. Life has changed drastically, but he wouldn't have it any other way. And to say he wanted to put the little girl up for adoption! So pathetic Katsuki. 

Even though it's his birthday, things were going on normally, being a dad meant that he wasn't able to go out and party, enjoy his special day like every other young person his age. He could still ask his mom to keep an eye on the child, but honestly he'd rather spend the day with her than surrounded by drunk sweaty bodies, annoying music filling his ears. He'd much rather listen to his baby girl babble and babble incoherent words and him pretending to understand and have a conversation with her. What he didn't expect was that this year, he'd have the most wonderful gift of all time. 

Holding her on his hips as he was making himself a birthday dinner, the little girl always looking up to him, hand gripping his thin sweatshirt, incoherent sounds would come out of her mouth every now and then making the young father look at her and reply with a "yes, you're right" and "I know right?! Unbelievable!". Bouncing her to the rhythm of whatever song that was stuck in his head, focusing on the task at hands, he almost missed the sound coming out of her little lips, if it weren't for her hand tugging harder at his top and other one patting his strong arm, a gesture that she learned would get his attention anytime. Dropping the wooden spoon to the side, seeing her mouth open and close, trying to get out something. "Come on baby! What do you have to say? Dad's listening!" He didn't want to get his hopes too high, knowing that it's still a bit early for her to say her first word, but maybe it's his dad instinct telling him to listen closely, or maybe it's just the little bit of hope that she'd say her first word on his birthday that told him to focus on whatever that was about to come out of her. "Ba… BaBa". That's it! That was it! Wide smile stretching on his face, tears threatening to fall, since when did he become so soft? Well it doesn't matter now... He couldn't believe how lucky he was, to have his daughter's first words be "baba" and on his birthday! He was on cloud nine! Hugging his baby tightly, telling her how much he loves her and treasures her, he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face for the rest of the evening. 

He spent his first birthday as a dad calling up his beloved ones, telling them about the most amazing gift he's ever gotten. 

5 years….

Growing up and growing older together, was everything Bakugou ever wants. His little baby now five, how did time pass by so quickly? It felt like just yesterday he was teaching her how to walk, and now he's begging her to stop running around the house, afraid she'd knock her head on things. It happened before, hearing his angel cry, making his heart drop, he never again wants to hear her in pain again….

His birthday wasn't his special day anymore, it was their special day. Making it a ritual to always spend it together, they'd either go out and celebrate it over ice cream, or they'd stay at home, playing and cuddling watching movies as she drifted to sleep in his arms. He never asked for gifts, she's a child, and even later in life he wouldn't. He never liked his birthday, until he became a dad, the first year she gifted him with her precious first words. The second with a hug, the third with a kiss, and the fourth with morning snuggles. His little bundle of joy completely changed his perspective of his birthday. What will she do this year? 

Apparently, something really special, as she was hiding from him all day, running away from him everytime he tried to get a hug or a kiss. Making him a little angry as he just wanted some affection from the little girl, but he's not getting any of it. Well at least he didn't have to wait that long, lunch was approaching and so did his baby, well not so baby anymore, hiding something behind her back as she was making her way to him. Giving her a little smile as she finally, for the first time today, showed some interest in her father. Pressing her head on his leg as she couldn't reach higher to get his attention, like he wasn't already waiting for her. Bending down to get to her eye level, he gave her a little cheek kiss as she revealed what she was keeping a secret from him all day long. It must've been something on a paper or something like that, but he couldn't quite tell as glitter was covering all of it, looking behind her to see the trail of orange and pink shimmers that would definitely be a hassle to clean. Though he didn't care right now, the only thing that matters was his gift, as narcissistic as it sounds. Taking the present from her hands only to open the envelope to reveal a folded paper. Shaking his hand in a sort of way to get rid of the sparkles, gently unfolding the paper. Eyes wide, then softening as a grin made its way to his lips. It was a family drawing. There she was holding hand with what he assumed to be him, wearing his hero costume, and their little cat to the side. Not forgetting to add her uncle Kirishima but it seemed as she crossed him, writing a small no to his side, making the blond giggle. And on the top of her paper, in bold multi-colored pencil a big "Happy birzday Baba" with a crooked heart next to it. It was nothing amazing, but he can see the thought she put into it, the love and passion she dedicated in the drawing, making him ever so proud of his girl. Giving her the biggest hug, lifting her up in the air as he thanked her. He was honestly having the time of his life, always, with his little bundle of joy…. 

14 years….

Rituals are bound to fade one day. And considering spending his birthday together as a ritual, he wasn't that surprised when it broke. But it still hurts. It's the first birthday in 14 years he spends alone, without her by his side. With her laughs to fill the air, with her hugs to warm his heart, with her "I love you dad"s. Instead she decided to spend the night with her friends. And the worse thing about all of it, she hadn't even acknowledged him all day long. Teenagers… 

Bored out of his mind, and too sad to do anything, even spending the night with Kirishima. He couldn't bring himself to move from the couch, laying under his blankets. Pathetic Katsuki, you've been limping around all day long like a heartbroken teenager! Man up it's just a night away. At this point he had no idea if he was sad that he's not spending the night with his daughter or if he was just worried about her. It's not the end of the world! He can still get out, have fun on his birthday like everyone. He still can….. But he doesn't want to. He wants her. He wants to hug her, mess her hair, listen to her drag his names as he teases her about her crush. He wants to cuddle up with her as they watch their favorite show for the fifteenth time. And fuck, is he crying right now? It's just…. It feels like just yesterday he was teaching her how to lace up her shoes, warning her about boys. It felt like just yesterday, she took her first steps, yelled her first swear, she gave him the middle finger for the first time. She just grew up so fast, how can he not be sad? And his tears didn't stop rolling as he looked at the fridge, family drawings she made, the highest score on a maths exam…. He was just so proud of her. He was just so proud to call this little daredevil with a soft heart his daughter. And he was so proud of the woman she grew up to be. 

Thinking so much about her, it seemed like she sensed it. Right before midnight, a special ringtone shook him awake. It was her! Is she ok?! What if something happened to her?! Shooting out from under the blankets to answer the call, mind drowning in fear, until he heard her gentle voice, slightly above a whisper so her friends don't listen to her. "Happy birthday dad, I love you so much!"

18 years…. 

Sadness, it was all he was feeling lately. The thought of her being already so grown up, he didn't want his baby to leave him. He didn't want his baby to fly away from him. He didn't want his daughter to forget about him…. But there's some things in life that you can't stop. And one of them was the departure of his girl to college, leaving him alone, with their old cat, just to stare at all her childhood photos, relive all the memories, and when he gets her occasional texts, it never fails to make him smile and tug at his heart as tears threaten to fall. 

Though on his birthday, she made sure to make it as special as possible, even if she wasn't near him. Going out to get his mail like every morning, he noticed a special letter. One decorated with glitter, orange and pink. Excitement flowing in his vain as he knew exactly where that special gift came from, or to be exact from who. Running inside and gently opening up the letter, wanting to keep it intact to save it. He couldn't help but sob at the words in front of him, the love they expressed…. 

    "Dear baba… 

     It's your special day! So I thought I'd make it even more special and write to you how I truly feel. 

    I know it's been hard, and I haven't been the easiest to raise. But can you blame me for the temper I inherited from you? Can you blame me for the loud voice I got from you? Can you blame me for the love and care and sweetness I offer the word that I learned from you? 

    I know what you're thinking, cause I thought about it too. Do you ever wonder, like me, about what would've happened if I was never a part of your life? Do you ever wonder, like me, what it would've been like if I had a mother, to braid my hair and caress my cheeks? To lull me to sleep with angelic voice and the smile that would appear everytime I do something right? Do you ever wonder, like me, if I never were a mistake? But I don't blame dad, it's not your fault. I'm not asking you to change anything, there's nothing you can do. And I understand. 

    Do you want to know what though? All of these are just what if's… In reality I wouldn't change a thing, and I know you won't either. In reality I don't need that motherly love, I only need yours. I need your rough hands to pinch my cheeks, I need your loud voice to praise me up, I need your evil smirk to boost me up. 

     I've seen your tears dad, I heard your cries. I've shed those tears too dad, and I bet you heard my cries. You wish you had someone, I wish that too. You wish you were better, I wish I was that too. But now I know, life might be us two. And I'm so ok with that. All I need in life is you. My angel and devil, my father and so much more, my number one hero…..

      Happy birthday to the most wonderful hero, to my best friend, to my one and only! Happy birthday baba! I love you!

                           From your daughter xoxo"

Tags

(@babybakuu )

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

New Girl in Little Cove by Damhnait Monaghan

 Small conservative Catholic community in need of a teacher

Novice teacher in need of change seeks it in new community

Will she be welcomed?

Will she fit in?

Will she find what she needs?  

And how will the community react deal with this new person from away?

 Filled with community, culture, and so much more – this story drew me in, made me care, and hope for happy endings for more than one character in the story.

 What I liked:

* The setting – having never been to Newfoundland it felt as if I was making the trip with the main character.

* The writing: skillful, friendly, descriptive and immersive.

* Rachel O’Brien: newly graduated, early twenties, grieving, modern, giving, good friend, caring, kind, immersed in a new culture, grows a LOT during the story, someone I admire.

* Doug Bishop: teacher of science and phys ed, probationary teacher, from Little Cover, loving son, caring, kind, intelligent, intriguing.

* Lucille, Biddy and the rest of the hookers – wonderful, caring, giving, creative, strong, community minded women that provide social and emotional support for one another (and others)

* Patrick Donovan: Principal, knowledgeable, patient, kind, a good man, there for his teachers and students

* Students with their individual needs, problems, and potential

* The ways Rachel ended up connecting with her students and others

* The romance that slowly developed between Rachel and Doug

* Sheila: Rachel’s BFF

* Rachel’s backstory

* Feeling like I was becoming part of the community/story

* The music and art elements of the story

* All of it really, except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Thinking about the sadness and loss experienced by more than one character in the story

* Knowing that too often the best option for individuals is overlooked due to moral, religious, educational or societal values.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

 Thank you to NetGalley and harper Collins-Graydon House-HQN for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

Book Summary:

 Take a literary trip to Newfoundland: the island of the world’s friendliest people, the setting for the award-winning musical Come From Away, and home of the delightfully quirky and irresistibly charming debut, NEW GIRL IN LITTLE COVE (May 11; $16.99; Graydon House Books) by Damhnait Monaghan! After being utterly scandalized by the abrupt departure of their school’s only French teacher (she ran off with a priest!) the highly Catholic, very tiny town of Little Cove, Newfoundland needs someone who doesn’t rock the boat. Enter mainlander Rachel O’Brien —technically a Catholic (baptized!), technically a teacher (unused honors degree!)— who is so desperate to leave her old life behind, she doesn’t bother to learn the (allegedly English) local dialect. Stuck on an island she’s never known surrounded by a people and culture she barely understands, Rachel struggles to feel at home. Only the intervention of her crotchety landlady, a handsome fellow teacher, and the Holy Dusters – the local women who hook rugs and clean the church – will assure Rachel’s salvation in this little island community.

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EXCERPT

Chapter 1

 September 1985

Little Cove: Population 389

 The battered sign came into view as my car crested a hill on the gravel road. Only 389 people? Damn. I pulled over and got out of the car, inhaling the moist air. Empty boats tilted against the wind in the bay below. A big church dominated the valley, beside which squatted a low, red building, its windows dark, like a row of rotten teeth. This was likely St. Jude’s, where tomorrow I would begin my teaching career.

“You lost?”

I whirled around. A gaunt man, about sixty, straddled a bike beside me. He wore denim overalls and his white hair was combed neatly back from his forehead.

“Car broke down?” he continued.

“No,” I said. “I’m just … ” My voice trailed off. I could hardly confide my second thoughts to this stranger. “…admiring the view.”

He looked past me at the flinty mist now spilling across the bay. A soft rain began to fall, causing my carefully straightened hair to twist and curl like a mass of dark slugs.

“Might want to save that for a fine day,” he said. His accent was strong, but lilting. “It’s right mauzy today.”

“Mossy?”

“Mauzy.” He gestured at the air around him. Then he folded his arms across his chest and gave me a once-over. “Now then,” he said. “What’s a young one like you doing out this way?”

“I’m not that young,” I shot back. “I’m the new French teacher out here.”

A smile softened his wrinkled face. “Down from Canada, hey?”

As far as I knew, Newfoundland was still part of Canada, but I nodded.

“Phonse Flynn,” he said, holding out a callused hand. “I’m the janitor over to St. Jude’s.”

“Rachel,” I said. “Rachel O’Brien.”

“I knows you’re staying with Lucille,” he said. “I’ll show you where she’s at.”

With an agility that belied his age, he dismounted and gently lowered his bike to the ground. Then he pointed across the bay. “Lucille’s place is over there, luh.”

Above a sagging wharf, I saw a path that cut through the rocky landscape towards a smattering of houses. I’d been intrigued at the prospect of a boarding house; it sounded Dickensian. Now I was uneasy. What if it was awful?

“What about your bike?” I asked, as Phonse was now standing by the passenger-side door of my car.

“Ah, sure it’s grand here,” he said. “I’ll come back for it by and by.”

“Aren’t you going to lock it?”

I thought of all the orphaned bike wheels locked to racks in Toronto, their frames long since ripped away. Jake had been livid when his racing bike was stolen. Not that I was thinking about Jake. I absolutely was not.

“No need to lock anything ’round here,” said Phonse.

I fumbled with my car keys, embarrassed to have locked the car from habit.

“Need some help?”

“The lock’s a bit stiff,” I said. “I’ll get used to it.”

Phonse waited while I jiggled in vain. Then he walked around and held out his hand. I gave him the key, he stuck it in and the knob on the inside of the car door popped up immediately.

“Handyman, see,” he said. “Wants a bit of oil, I allows. But like I said, no need to lock ’er. Anyway, with that colour, who’d steal it?” I had purchased the car over the phone, partly for its price, partly for its colour. Green had been Dad’s favourite colour, and when the salesman said mountain green, I’d imagined a dark, verdant shade. Instead, with its scattered rust garnishes, the car looked like a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Still, it would fit right in. I eyeballed the houses as we drove along: garish orange, lime green, blinding yellow. Maybe there had been a sale on paint.

As we passed the church, Phonse blessed himself, fingers moving from forehead to chest, then on to each shoulder. I kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel.

“Where’s the main part of Little Cove?” I asked.

“You’re looking at it.”

There was nothing but a gas station and a takeout called MJ’s, where a clump of teenagers was gathered outside, smoking. A tall, dark-haired boy pointed at my car and they all turned to stare. A girl in a lumber jacket raised her hand. I waved back before I realized she was giving me the finger. Embarrassed, I peeked sideways at Phonse. If he’d noticed, he didn’t let on.

Although Phonse was passenger to my driver, I found myself thinking of Matthew Cuthbert driving Anne Shirley through Avonlea en route to Green Gables. Not that I’d be assigning romantic names to these landmarks. Anne’s “Snow Queen” cherry tree and “Lake of Shining Waters” were nowhere to be seen. It was more like Stunted Fir Tree and Sea of Grey Mist. And I wasn’t a complete orphan; it merely felt that way.

At the top of a hill, Phonse pointed to a narrow dirt driveway on the right. “In there, luh.”

I parked in front of a small violet house encircled by a crooked wooden fence. A rusty oil tank leaned into the house, as if seeking shelter. When I got out, my nose wrinkled at the fishy smell. Phonse joined me at the back of the car and reached into the trunk for my suitcases.

“Gentle Jaysus in the garden,” he grunted. “What have you got in here at all? Bricks?” He lurched ahead of me towards the house, refusing my offer of help.

The contents of my suitcases had to last me the entire year; now I was second-guessing my choices. My swimsuit and goggles? I wouldn’t be doing lengths in the ocean. I looked at the mud clinging to my sneakers and regretted the suede dress boots nestled in tissue paper. But I knew some of my decisions had been right: a raincoat, my portable cassette player, stacks of homemade tapes, my hair straighteners and a slew of books.

When Phonse reached the door, he pushed it open, calling, “Lucille? I got the new teacher here. I expect she’s wore out from the journey.” As he heaved my bags inside, a stout woman in a floral apron and slippers appeared: Lucille Hanrahan, my boarding house lady.

“Phonse, my son, bring them bags upstairs for me now,” she said.

I said I would take them but Lucille shooed me into the hall, practically flapping her tea towel at me. “No, girl,” she said. “You must be dropping, all the way down from Canada. Let’s get some grub in you before you goes over to the school to see Mr. Donovan.”

Patrick Donovan, the school principal, had interviewed me over the phone. I was eager to meet him.

“Oh, did he call?” I asked.

“No.”

Lucille smoothed her apron over her belly, then called up the stairs to ask Phonse if he wanted a cup of tea. There was a slow beat of heavy boots coming down. “I’ll not stop this time,” said Phonse. “But Lucille, that fence needs seeing to.”

Lucille batted her hand at him. “Go way with you,” she said. “It’s been falling down these twenty years or more.” But as she showed him out, they talked about possible repairs, the two of them standing outside, pointing and gesturing, oblivious to the falling rain.

A lump of mud fell from my sneaker, and I sat down on the bottom step to remove my shoes. When Lucille returned, she grabbed the pair, clacked them together outside the door to remove the remaining mud, then lined them up beside a pair of sturdy ankle boots.

I followed her down the hall to the kitchen, counting the curlers that dotted her head, pink outposts in a field of black and grey.

“Sit down over there, luh,” she said, gesturing towards a table and chairs shoved against the back window. I winced at her voice; it sounded like the classic two-pack-a-day rasp.

The fog had thickened, so nothing was visible outside; it was like watching static on TV. There were scattered cigarette burns on the vinyl tablecloth and worn patches on the linoleum floor. A religious calendar hung on the wall, a big red circle around today’s date. September’s pin-up was Mary, her veil the exact colour of Lucille’s house. I was deep in Catholic territory, all right. I hoped I could still pass for one.

 Excerpted from New Girl in Little Cove by Damhnait Monaghan, Copyright © 2021 by Damhnait Monaghan

Published by Graydon House Books

   AUTHOR BIO

 DAMHNAIT MONAGHAN was once a  mainlander who taught in a small fishing village in Newfoundland. A former  teacher and lawyer, Monaghan has almost sixty publication credits, including  flash fiction, creative non-fiction, and short stories. Her short prose has  won or placed in various writing competitions and has been nominated for a  Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions. New Girl in Little Cove placed in the  top six from more than 350 entries in the 2019 International Caledonia Novel  Award.

 Social Links:

Author Website

Twitter: @Downith

Instagram: @Downith1

Facebook: @AuthorDMonaghan

Goodreads

[moonlight-breeze-44]

Hi can I request a prompt where Malec fight again post 2x20 and Alec is super insecure about it and keeps thinking that he screwed up and is just very upset with himself because he’s seen first hand how Magnus can be cold and unfeeling toward him

Hi, anon! Thank you for this prompt! I’ve always loved the idea that Alec would have some sort of anxiety about fighting with Magnus post-2x20. I hope you like what I came up with! I’m not the best at writing fights, so hopefully this is good and what you were looking for. Again, thank you so much for this prompt!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Read on AO3

In the Past

Alec blinked awake leisurely, the sun streaming from the window invading his senses and eliciting a groan from him. He rolled over onto his side, causing Magnus to stir next to him.

“Mmm, good morning, darling,” Magnus greeted him, sidling closer under the cover of the sheets.

“Morning,” Alec mumbled back, turning to face his boyfriend. As he shifted, he accidentally pressed the still-healing demon wound on his thigh into the bedframe. He hissed in pain and stopped moving. This, of course, did not go unnoticed by Magnus.

“Alexander? What’s wrong?” He shifted so he could see Alec better and drew the covers down to look at Alec’s thigh.

Alec heard Magnus inhale sharply and cringed. He’d been out on patrol with Jace, a couple of days after Magnus had broken up with him and sided with the Seelie Queen. He chose to believe that it was entirely due to a case of bad luck that he’d been sliced by a demon’s venomous talon and not anything to do with his mental state at the time.

Magnus stared at the wound, dark purple and ugly, stitched up by the Institute’s medical staff, with an expression of horror and poorly concealed rage on his face. He rounded on Alec, his eyes flashing. “Alexander, why didn’t you tell me about this?!”

Alec’s eyes snapped up to meet Magnus’s when he heard the venom in his tone. He recoiled when he saw the anger there. A hot flash of fear shot through him, and he found it suddenly hard to breathe. Memories raced through his mind and he stumbled out of bed, away from Magnus.

“...holding me back…”

“What do you want, Shadowhunter?”

“I’ll seal the rift, but not because of you or the Shadowhunters…”

Alec fumbled over the buttons on his jeans as he yanked them on, paying no mind to the way the rough treatment jostled his wound. He threw a shirt on and stumbled out of the bedroom, ignoring Magnus’s protests. He grabbed his jacket and raced out the door.

Alec wouldn’t go through another breakup. He couldn’t.

If Magnus was angry at him, it was only a matter of time.

Alec swallowed hard and tried to refute his thoughts with logic. He and Magnus had fought before and never broken up. When Jace was missing and he’d been rude and snappish to everyone, Magnus hadn’t tolerated it. Alec closed his eyes for a second and tried to tell himself that this was merely a bump in the road, that Magnus wouldn’t really repeat the events of a few nights ago.

Lying about the Soul-Sword was much worse than failing to inform Magnus of an injury.

Or was it?

They were both a form of lying, in a sense.

Alec shuddered and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. His fear was irrational, and he knew it. He would not let it rule him.

A quick glance at his watch told Alec that he was already late. He and Magnus had slept in. He ignored the pang in his chest when he remembered that usually when they slept late, Magnus would portal him into the Institute.

The sun seemed to have slunk behind the clouds in the time between when Alec woke up and when he left the apartment. The sky had turned grey and stormy, and there was a distinct chill to the air. Alec shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around him, activating his Heat rune.

By the time he reached the Institute, Alec was soaked to the bone from cold rain that had begun pouring a few minutes into his journey and he was in the foulest mood he could ever remember being in.

“Hey, Alec, I - ”

Alec dismissed Raj with a wave of his hand and a glare. “Not now.”

A few other Shadowhunters tried to stop Alec on the way to his office, but most of them took note of their Head’s expression and steered clear. Alec trudged into his office and kicked off his wet boots, scowling at the damp marks they made on the floor. He lit a fire in the fireplace, wishing more than anything for his warlock boyfriend to summon new clothes for him.

Another wave of fear and self-loathing washed over him, and he clenched his jaw. He made his way over to his desk and began his paperwork. Emotions were nothing but a distraction. He couldn’t let his fight with Magnus get in the way of his ability to work.

~ ~ ~

News of Alec’s stormy disposition must have spread, because it was nearing lunchtime before any Shadowhunter dared to knock on his door.

“Come in!” Alec called.

Izzy peeked her head around the doorframe and gave him a wide smile. “Have you eaten anything today, big brother?”

Alec’s hands curled into fists as he thought of his morning and its distinct lack of breakfast, caused by his own hasty departure. “No,” he replied shortly. Izzy’s brows drew up and she stepped inside, offering him the sandwich she held in her hands with an air of caution.

Alec accepted it gratefully and waved her out. “If you don’t mind, I’m really busy right now.”

Izzy frowned. “Too busy to have lunch with your little sister?”

Alec winced. He hated guilt trips.

“Fine, fine. Come in.”

Izzy grinned and sank into the chair opposite Alec’s, biting into her own sandwich.

A few minutes were spent eating in companionable silence, then Izzy said: “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

Alec stopped chewing and gave her a look. “Nothing’s going on with me.”

“Oh, really?” Izzy raised an eyebrow.

Before Alec could reply, another knock sounded at the door. “Come in!” Alec called, taking care to ensure his tone was pleasant and mild for Izzy’s benefit.

It was Jace. “Hey, man,” he greeted Alec, and nodded at Izzy. “Can I join you guys?” He walked in and took a seat in front of the fire without waiting for a reply.

“Sure,” Alec growled. “Go ahead, make yourself at home.”

Jace raised an eyebrow at Izzy. “What’s up with him?”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Hell if I know.”

Alec sighed and took a deep breath in through his nose, taking another bite of his sandwich with, perhaps, more force than strictly necessary.

“Raj said you snapped at him,” Izzy ventured carefully. Jace seconded her statement with a solemn nod.

“He was being annoying,” Alec retorted.

Izzy gave him a doubtful look.

Alec groaned. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Jace scoffed, his hand ghosting over his parabatai rune.

Alec clenched his jaw tightly. He loved his siblings, and he knew they meant well, but he wasn’t about to tell them about the fear that had plagued him all day. “Whatever. I have work to do, so could you please leave me alone?”

Jace got to his feet and scowled at Alec. “I’ll be back when you’re in a better mood.” He left, closing the door behind him with a bang.

“Ignore him,” Izzy said, patting Alec on the shoulder. “We’re here for you if you want to talk.” With that, she stood up and left, too.

Alec took a deep breath and raked his hand over his face. It was going to be a long day.

~ ~ ~

The time that Alec would usually go home ended up creeping up on him quicker than he had expected, and the same fear from before clutched his heart at the thought of returning to the loft.

Alec hesitated, chewing his lip, before making a split-second decision and heading to the training room instead of the doors.

The sight of the familiar room, laden with high ceilings and plenty of space, gave Alec some sense of comfort. He almost reached for his bow and quiver, which were hung up on the wall in their proper place, but he decided against this when he saw the punching bag hanging from one of the hooks in the ceiling.

Alec strode over to the punching bag and wasted no time landing his first hit. Wrapping his hands crossed his mind for a brief second, but he was already working on his next strike before it had time to set in.

The tough leather of the punching bag provided a perfect outlet for the thoughts that clogged his mind, and he landed blow after blow, trying to chase away the feeling of fear that wrapped itself around his throat and clutched at his heart any time he gave it an opportunity to.

So intense was his concentration on the assault that he didn’t hear the footsteps as someone approached the training room, didn’t hear the sharp intake of breath or the mumbled, “Alexander,” from the doorway.

It wasn’t until Magnus was fully in the room that Alec noticed him.

Alec whirled around to face his boyfriend, hands immediately locking together behind his back to hide the damage. “Magnus,” he breathed, his eyes blown wide. “W-What are you doing here?”

“You missed dinner,” Magnus replied softly. He sounded hurt; he sounded sad.

Alec felt guilt pool in his stomach. Of course. He and Magnus had plans to go out to eat that night.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for missing their date, for that morning, for the Soul-Sword, or for all three.

“It’s okay,” Magnus said. He walked closer and closer until only a few inches of space existed between him and Alec. He reached up to hold the side of Alec’s face tenderly, and Alec unconsciously leaned into the touch.

“Why did you run off this morning, darling?” Alec felt fear shoot through him like a lance, and he tried to turn away, but Magnus’s grip on his cheek tightened, rendering him unable to. “Darling, look at me, please.” Alec took a deep, shaky breath and did so.

A little gasp left his lips when he saw Magnus’s soft brown eyes. The anger from that morning was gone, replaced with kindness and compassion. Alec felt his eyes fill with tears, and he blinked them away before Magnus could see.

“I’m sorry,” Alec mumbled. “I - I - Y-You were just so angry, and I thought…” He trailed off, feeling utterly and completely ridiculous.

“You thought what, sweetheart?” Magnus didn’t let him shy away from his gaze.

“I thought you would...get too angry…” Alec huffed in frustration at his inability to put his thoughts into words. “I just remembered the Soul-Sword, and how angry you were then.”

Magnus’s eyes widened and filled with guilt. “Oh, Alec.”

Alec looked away, unable to stand the sight of his boyfriend with those big, soft eyes staring at him with more kindness than he derseved.

“Alexander, did you think that I would break up with you for hiding an injury from me?” Magnus sounded incredulous, and Alec felt his cheeks flush pink with embarrassment.

“No!” He defended himself. “I just...I-It just reminded me of that.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, reaching up to hold his face with both palms. “The Soul-Sword is in the past, alright? It’s in the past.”

Alec nodded and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself with the knowledge of Magnus’s forgiveness.

“Look at me, please,” Magnus instructed him, and Alec raised his eyes to Magnus’s.

“I am not going to leave you,” Magnus said firmly. “I am not going to leave you, Alexander.”

Alec felt a single tear make its way down his cheek, and Magnus hummed sympathetically and brushed it away with the pad of his thumb.

“Can I heal these?” Magnuas asked, gesturing to Alec’s hands, bruised and bloody from his brutal attack on the punching bag. His hand ghosted over the demon wound on Alec’s thigh, and Alec sighed, releasing the tension and fear of the day with the exhale.

He nodded, and Magnus stepped forward, brushing cool blue healing magic over Alec’s hands and the injury on his thigh. The pain lines on Alec’s face went slack, and Magnus leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Let’s go home,” Magnus said, and Alec agreed eagerly. Magnus conjured a portal and by the time he and Alec stepped through, Alec knew that they would be okay.

Alec went to sleep that night with a smile on his face and the knowledge settled in his bones that Magnus would not leave him again.