#i am intimately familiar with what a fish body should look like so all i see is disfigurement

[narelleart]

Came across a paper on domestic goldfish that showed the same thing I've been saying this whole time - these short bodied breeds have been bred to extremes, causing disfigurements that impair them. This study (Le Verger et al, 2024) showed reductions in brain size, modification of weberian ossicles (used for hearing in otophysan fishes), and reductions of the swim bladder (including near or complete loss of the posterior chamber in some breeds). But it also had citations I want to go back and read about things like lack of space for organs, propencity for infections, and loss of vertebrae.

I'll have to read up and do a longer writeup with full citations sometime, after things settle down. If I remember. ^^;;

Anyways, in the mean time:

Science agrees - "fancy" shortbodied goldfish breeds push their morphology to extremes at the expense of their health and ability to behave naturally.

[starryficsfinishwen]

enamoured — jiyan x reader [SLIGHT NSFW WARNING]

Rain falls ever so gentle outside your window.

The heat of the fireplace seeping into the room, the rainy breeze knocking on wood. The wind chime plays a low melody. Two warm cups now sat forgotten on the table. But only lingering breaths fill the empty space.

The morning light hindered by clouded skies that illuminates the room shines on his exposed shoulders. Golden eyes glimmer brightly in this darkness that makes your heart skip a beat. Breathing in his smell, the smell of snow and summer seas. Your fingers find themselves entangled in gloveless ones.

“Rover,” The general's voice was normally rough, full of diction and dominance. But now, he calls you in the softest tone, one you could mistake for the patter of the rain outside. “[Y/N].”

“General Jiyan,” you answer, stifling a sigh, “...does it bother you?”

Does it bother you, indeed? Your tangled legs on the sofa, seeking refuge in the cold by sitting on his lap. Does it bother you, when your hands are held together so intimately that you feel every brush of his index on your thumb, your throat aching?

“I would much rather ask you that,” he coughs, golden eyes looking away from yours, “it was my idea in the first place.”

How did this happen again? Maybe it doesn't matter at this point—no, not when Jiyan's free hand wanders onto the expanse of your covered waist, thimble ears picking up the sound of Jiyan's short sigh.

“Are you cold still?” He asks, tapping on your hand.

The cold weather pales at your usual dark outfit. You were already wrapped around a blanket you found on the couch (it was long enough to cover Jiyan's legs as you sat on his lap), and while under the general's watchful gaze, there was enough heat.

You lightly shook your head. “I'm okay. What about you?”

“I'm alright. I am worried about you.”

Outside, the cackle of the thunder roars. It makes your body shiver, fingers slightly curling to ignore the fear in your bones. But Jiyan recognizes it, the hand on your waist now touching the small of your back.

“The rain will stop soon,” he mutters, “Worry not, the thunder won't harm you.”

Looking back at Jiyan, you notice that his cheek is dusted pink. Oh, you wonder if it was from the cold. “...are you the one who is cold, General?”

“Nonsense.” He huffs, “I have long braved the cold. It doesn't bother me anymore.”

“Then why are your cheeks flushed? And so is your ear?”

You let his hand go in favor of touching his reddening, warm ears. The general groans as you touch the earlobes, before tracing the curve of his ears.

“Rover,” he warns, “Please don't. Yes, I may not feel cold, but this is a normal reaction-”

Jiyan freezes. When after tracing his ears, your hands now find themselves cupping his red cheeks. You breathe in his smell, one you became familiar with after so long.

“Generak Jiyan, your cheeks feel awfully thin. Have you been eating lately?”

With a gentle squeeze, you laugh as Jiyan narrows his eyes at you. His hands now find themselves at your waist, but you still laugh at the way he mimics your squeezes on his cheeks to yours.

“You should cook better, then,” he rolls his eyes before rubbing with his thumb, “I can't afford eating too many vegetables all the time.”

Gasping, you said, “I gave you a balanced diet. Just say that you don't like the fish I prepared.”

“I like everything you prepare for me...my men.” He smiles, “...I just don't like the way you prepare extra attention to them.”

“I do not.”

“You do. Take Xian for example.”

“He is a friend.”

“Still. I get jealous easily.”

It was your turn to huff instead. “You, the Great General of Jinzhou? Jealous?”

A flash of lightning is visible from the window. “I do. I don't like the way other people could like you the way I do.”

The rain outside keeps pouring, but it doesn't deafen the throbbing heartbeat in your chest. For a long while, your eyes always looked differently, a dense fog clouding your vision. You've long treated the people around you like a friend, never blurring the thin line of respect and recognition of each of your roles. Yet now, when the fog in your eyes clears, only then do you recognize gold eyes looking at you.

It only hits you: how intimate your position is with General Jiyan.

“Ah...” the words die in your throat, and you recognize how it aches once more.

For a spare moment, you wonder when it happened? When did the thin line of roles blur? When did you feel so comfortable touching the highly regarded General of Jinzhou, that it felt like you were only with a lover?

But the General seems to notice your hesitation. Slowly pulling away as he turns from you, he said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impose my feelings on you.”

“No, wait.”

You don't pull away, instead you lean closer. In the dark, your hands brush his cheek. They cup his jaw, and it's warm. His hands slip down to your hips, and it's warm. You like it. You want it. You need his hands on you. Damned be the line of respect and responsibility.

When the gentle rain slows on your window, you opt to ask, “...Do your men normally have to experience something like this with the general whenever it rains?”

Jiyan subtly laughs. “No, my men are as resilient as the walls in Jinzhou. We take care of ourselves, but never this way.”

His hands tug you closer, the warm blanket on your head now slipped down to your draped legs. Your hands tangle themselves on his turquoise hair, eager eyes looking back at warm, golden ones.

And Jiyan whispers, “...you are the first I could hold like this.”

You notice his eyes flicker to look at your lips, then back to your eyes. You, too, do the same. Inching a little closer, you could smell him better—summer seas and petrichor. You breathe him in.

“General Jiyan...will you let me kiss you?”

Hesitant, you are. But you don't tremble when Jiyan closes the gap in between you two. Like a deer in the headlights, you let yourself crash onto the lights. His lips are warm, soft, supple—akin to the softest feathers on your back, and he doesn't even hesitate. You crumble onto the gap, your body perfectly molding like jigsaw puzzles in his, hands wanting to grasp onto another.

Jiyan kisses you, and kisses, and kisses you—even until you've run out of breath. He parts so slowly, but never too much, lips still touching yours.

“Rover,” he mutters on your lips, “[Y/N], I adore you. I am far too enamoured by you.”

In the dim light of the room, two breaths mingled against each other. You feel his hands snake to the supple of your hips, and you could shake from his warmth alone.

You need him. His warmth, his smile, his lips—the first taste of freedom, the taste of the summer rain that makes you hungry for more.

“General Jiyan,” you press your lips harder to his, his back now on the armrest of the chair, “I...like you, too. I need you.”

Enamoured. Wanting. Needed. Desire. To devour it.

And in this haze you find bright golden eyes.

“Rover, I hope you stay true to your words.”

would u believe me if i wrote this waking up in cold sweat because i dreamt of jiyan touching us like this,,in a cute lil jumper,,,

the rain is perfect as i write this,,,im too,,,down bad,,,for him,,, (come back pls i am screaming i need him)

— starry

[lavenderfilledcoffin]

forevermore

adverb

forever; rhetorical manner. forever and more.

*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*ೄ·*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*

Sebastian basically dragged you around the 'shelter' that acted like a luxury mansion.

To be fair, you two were so used to the tiny and cramped space that you called a 'room', this was heaven in comparison.

The burner phones were a little difficult to use because of the lack of any technology the two of you were afforded down at Hadal Blacksite, but you managed to figured it out.

"How does that work? It's so intriguing..." You commented, referring to the internet.

You were debating on calling your mother; you've yearned to hear her voice after so long.

"I think you should, or we could wait. It's up to you, dear."

You hoped she still had the same number...

You dialed; the line was ringing.

After what felt like an eternity, a familiar voice spoke. "Hello?"

You teared up immediately. "M... Mom?" You hated how your voice cracked so pathetically.

"[Name]...?"

"You remembered... I'm so sorry, mom."

"How are you...? Where are you?"

"A lot of shit happened, but I'm okay now. I promise. I can't say where I am, but, I might be able to see you in a week."

"You have no idea how much I missed you." She said through choked sobs; you had never heard her cry before.

"I thought my baby was dead, it hurt so so so much..." You could tell how hard she was trying to hold back tears.

"I'm here now, mom. I wish I was with you."

"You'll come, right?"

"I don't know... I have..." You peek over your shoulder to look at Sebastian, smiling softly. "I have a big surprise, that's for sure."

"That's fine."

"I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

She hummed in response, hanging up before another word could be said.

"Are you alright?" Sebastian caressed your cheek with his left hand in a gentle manner. "I think so, I'm just so... happy." He wiped the small tear that fell from your right eye.

"I am, too." He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for a passionate kiss.

Your hands made their way up to his face, cradling it just as he loved. A sweet sigh could be heard from him.

The sweet moment felt more intimate than the times you would stay up late with him talking about your pasts.

His larger claw wrapped around your waist, rubbing small circles into it.

You pulled away, catching your breath, but not before pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

"I'm the happiest I've ever been." You pressed your forehead to his, smiling as you do so.

"Me too." He closed his eyes, savoring your delicate touch.

Happy little noises are all that came from the both of you; weights being lifted off of your shoulders.

Sebastian pulled away, knowing he would be glued to you if he didn't stop right.

"What could we do for a week?"

"A lot, actually."

"Like?"

"Eat real food, sleep anywhere, ... I dunno."

Sebastian laughed at your response. "I mean, if that's what you want."

As if on cue; your stomach growled.

"O—oh..." Your face burned with embarrassment, luckily for you, Sebastian didn't tease you about it.

"Me too." He pat your head before slithering to the kitchen, you followed closely behind him.

Whoops, you lost him. A brief thought crossed your mind, 'it's unfair how fast he is.'

You smiled at the thought, returning to finding your fish boyfriend.

"Seeeb?"

Huh, that's odd. Normally, he would've retreated and came back to you, but it's the opposite.

You groaned, stretching your body, looking around the roomy place you were so generously lent.

Was this real?

Before you could scream Sebastian's name, it was forced out of you.

He had snuck up behind you, and yelled 'boo', leaving you in pure shock.

Your scream could rival that of a dumb blonde in a crappy horror movie who's about to get murdered.

"Yeesh, hon... Didn't know you could be that loud." It takes you a moment to process what just happened, you were very very very tempted to punch him, but that was too cruel.

"Wh... You little—" Sebastian happily slithered away; looking over his shoulder to see you chasing him.

"You're faster than you look!"

He took a sharp turn, you nearly tripped trying to replicate what he did.

He had suddenly stopped, and you pounced on his back.

You didn't hurt him, though. How could you? Your face found its way into the back of his neck, softly inhaling his scent.

"Cute." Was all he muttered, rubbing your left thigh with his third hand.

He slithered into the kitchen, wow, he really led you here?

It felt like a jab, but you brushed it off.

He approached the stove. "Wanna know something funny?" He said, grabbing loose ingredients from the briefcase.

"Hm?"

"I have really bad hip pain from sitting up in a weird position for long hours. I honestly blame my size, but, it felt like every new day was my last." He kept going on and on about his back, neck, and hip pain. Poor thing.

"It would be worse because a certain group of expendables would try to climb me, I realllly didn't appreciate that." A sweet scent filled the air; you took a seat near the table while Sebastian cooked.

"I feel like those expendables have some sort of telepathy, honestly. They all did the same thing. Either flash me, or repeatedly enter and exit my shop."

He added... honey? He added honey to the pot, stirring it alongside whatever else was inside of it.

"And?"

"And I never saw them again, poor bastards. But, I couldn't care less."

After making small talk, he finished with the food.

Despite being underground for more than ten years, he hasn't lost his chef-like skills, as he called it.

He moved the chair away from his table, opting to 'sit' on his tail, as it was more convenient for him since the wooden chair was too small, weak, and uncomfortable.

He said the dish was called 'valdiviano', he added his own spin on it, saying meat and honey was good together.

You stared at the plage, picking up the fork with an intricate design.

He wasn't wrong, either. You took one bite, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say it was the best thing you've ever tasted. The sweetened meat mixed with all sorts of flavorings was delicious, heavenly, even. You haven't had a proper meal in so long, you forgot how amazing it was to be able to eat real food.

Sebastian happily ate his food, the savory and sweet meat in it made him purr, it was cute.

You knew he had grown more fond of meat since his new 'transformation' of sorts based off of what he told you.

He finished first, placing his plate into the sink. He waited for you to finish.

"I can wash dishes, you know. No need to wait."

"Yeah, buuut... I'd rather do it."

You swallowed, clearing your throat. "Please, let me?"

"Oh, fine." He sighed, making it sound dramatic before he left you alone in the kitchen.

It took you a few minutes to finish the plate. Full and satisfied, you head over to the stove to grab the dirtied pot, placing both the plate and pot inside of the sink.

As the water warmed up, you began to scrub the soaped sponge.

Your mind wandered as you washed the dishes. For once, all you could feel was peace.

You hummed a small tune as you washed away the soap, the stains now replaced with a shiny gloss.

You set them on a rack, letting them air dry.

It had been two days, five days were left until you could go see your mother.

You and Sebastian have accomplished so much in such short time.

On the second day, got into contact with his mom, she was hesitant to believe that it was him since he was pronounced dead ten years ago. It was a bittersweet conversation according to him. He would tell you the details another time.

You overheard a little bit of it, and you became somewhat flustered after hearing him speak Spanish.

Then on the third day, a headline came out that revealed every single secret that Urbanshade had hidden. Including the inhumane experiments they performed on Sebastian. Not that they dared to say that he was still alive, but that he was innocent. At least his mom could rest easy.

The world map that had the facility blacked out didn't change, but the guards from before had said that the government would handle it.

Your criminal record was purged, and the money that they had given you would be transferred into a reserved bank account. It would be under the guise that 'it was a false imprisonment, and this is major compensation for all the years lost.'

So, now, you were basically protected in every way. You could live life as a normal human.

Sebastian couldn't have that luxury, though. You were saddened, but he told you it was okay. Being on the surface again and living a 'normal' life was all he could ever ask for.

Every single night that you two had stayed at the shelter was spent stargazing.

Your knowledge on stars fascinated him, and you kept on talking about these different constellations that lit up the sky.

Sebastian listened intently, his right arm holding you close to him.

It was the absence of your voice that made him realize you had fallen asleep. He was used to it by now.

Not that he minded it, though. The moonlight only served to enhanced your beauty.

It was like a routine by now. You would ramble, fall asleep, he would pick you up, and then put you into a proper bed.

The rest of the days were filled with laughter, love, and passion. The morning of the seventh day, you two were greeted with the sun's early morning rays illuminating the room.

The gentle warmth it provided made you sigh softly, shutting your eyes briefly while you yawn.

You sleepily open your eyes, slowly adjusting to the light.

You looked over towards Sebastian, half of his tail was hanging off of the king sized bed.

"Sebby, wake up." You gently shook him. Unlike all of the other times, he woke up relatively quickly.

"M... Morning." His eyes burned as the light shone across his face, but he eventually got used to it.

Sebastian's sleepy voice was one of those things that you wanted to record and play forever, you had the chance to, but it's much better to hear it in person.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Very well." He yawned, his ear fins momentarily wiggling.

"Today's our last day, we better start getting up."

"Right... behind you." His voice trailed off, small snores instead replacing the quietness.

"Wow, you're hopeless, Seb." You pressed a kiss to his forehead, leaving the room quietly.

A quiet morning, it was odd. You missed Sebastian, but you also wanted to let him sleep. He spent only five hours sleeping in Hadal Blacksite, because of his shop, so it felt appropriate to let him rest longer.

The morning was spent gathering both your items and belongings alongside his.

You also tidied up the shelter, base, whatever you wanted to call it.

Noon rolled around, armored men would arrive in around thirty minutes.

You decided to go back to the living quarters you shared with Sebastian, going back into bed, and holding him close.

Even in his peaceful sleep, he could feel the warmth radiating from your body. He purred softly, nuzzling his face into your neck.

You stared at the ceiling, nervousness and excitement filled your entire being.

Everything could either go horribly wrong, or extremely well. It was all a matter of time.

A soft buzz woke the both of you up, you hadn't even realized you fell asleep.

You sleepily grabbed the phone, answering it. "Hello?"

"We are waiting outside. Be down in five minutes, please." With that, he hung up.

"We better hurry..." You groggily mumbled, sitting up and forcing your body up.

Sebastian followed you down, grabbing his designated bags and holstering them onto his tail.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, holding the briefcase, but then immediately regretting it as it was heavier than you anticipated. "Seeeeb, please carry it?"

"You poor thing." He teased, grabbing the briefcase and easily carrying it.

The two of you rushed out, being met with an armored vehicle alongside two men.

"Come." They opened both doors to the back of the van, stopping you. "This will be for him, you will be seated in the front."

"O... Oh." You glanced at Sebastian, only to see him nod. You frowned slightly, but hid it to the best of your ability.

As soon as Sebastian's tail curled up, they shut the doors, leading you to the front.

You were sat in between the two men, a little cramped, if you must say...

"Any address in particular you want to go to?"

"Yes, I want to go to ______"

"Understood. Starting route." They input your mother's address, it would take roughly 2 hours until you arrived.

Your stomach churned, full of uncertainty.

You decided to give her a call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, mom. I'm on my way right now."

"That's... Okay. I'll see you, honey."

"We'll enter through the garage. Please don't be too startled when you see him."

"Who?"

"You'll see."

"Okay then. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Your eyes shut, not wanting to be awake for the ride there, as it was uncomfortable.

The man on your right shook you gently. "We will arrive shortly."

You nodded, rubbing your eyes until the initial blurriness was gone.

You recognized the area, your heart fluttering in excitement. You couldn't contain your smile.

As you approached your mom's home, your hands began to tremble. This was really it.

The driver pulled into the driveway, the garage opened painstakingly slow.

There. Your mother stood. In the flesh.

Finally, the men parked the car, heading to the back of the van.

You hurriedly got out of the car, looking at your mom. "M... Mom." Your voice cracked, tears spilling like a fountain.

She said nothing, only holding her arms open. You rushed into them, breaking down as soon as you felt her body press against yours. "I missed you so much, I was—" She smiled, tears falling down her face slowly. "I know."

The guarded men came into her view, alongside a giant, unnecessarily scary, handsome snake hybrid fish.

Her body trembled as her hold on you tightened. "W—W..."

"Mom, it's okay. This is what I was referencing... I think it would be easier to start from... the start?" You awkwardly smiled at her, untangling yourself from her grip and heading to Sebastian.

It looked like your mom had seen a ghost, her mouth was agape, ready to scream.

The conversation was long and awkward. How he used a normal human before being falsely accused, just like you, but he was experimented on.

Recalling it made him emotional, so he just handed your mom his file for her to skim over.

This made her sympathetic, but she wasn't fully comfortable with Sebastian.

You never brought up your weird 'immortality' thing, but you recapped all that happened while you were gone.

Your relationship with Sebastian. That was the hardest bomb to drop on her.

She almost thought this was a joke, a dream, even.

But after seeing your hand interlocked with his, it finally clicked.

Her child was in love with some... monster?

"Oh... Uh. I don't know how to feel. I'm happy that you found love... but, a...?"

You sheepishly nodded, your face burning out of embarrassment.

"I... I guess I can accept it."

You and Sebastian smiled, something that your mom found adorable in a sense.

Your mom helped you and Sebastian, letting you stay for as long as you two needed.

Sebastian had essentially taken over the kitchen, and he particularly enjoyed sleeping in the garage since it was nice and big.

You had finally gotten access to the bank account, and when you checked the total amount, you were astonished. You've never seen such a high number before, especially for a (previously) broke college student before everything that happened.

You could live comfortably off of the money for a long time, maybe for your life if you spent it wisely. But, you wanted to work, oddly enough.

Sebastian was scrolling on the personal computer that you and him shared, browsing houses until he found one he liked.

It was close by your mom's house, and it was large. Not to mention secluded. The nearest estate was a few miles away.

Large enough for two families.

Would you even have a valid excuse to buy it? Maybe a real estate agent wouldn't question...

"I mean. It's perfect, so..."

It was like the heavens heard your prayers.

And just like that, the appointment to visit the house was booked. You went alone, obviously.

It was expensive, sure, but that didn't matter. If it fit Sebastian, then you'd be willing to spend any amount of money for it.

You paid for the house in full, the deal was closed, and now you owned your first property, fun!

Sebastian had to be transported secretly, so you had to rent a van.

You dropped him off, "will you be okay for an hour?"

"Yeah, sure. Just... be quick, please?"

"Of course, Seb." He pulled you in for a quick hug before you departed.

He began exploring. The lower floor was decent, he could move around freely.

The backyard was massive, and gated, which was perfect, since he enjoyed stargazing with you.

The basement was big enough to serve as a room for Sebastian, and if you wanted, for you, too.

The rest of the rooms upstairs and downstairs would fill themselves up... somehow.

You had successfully landed a job as an entry level audio engineer with flexible hours, perfect since you wanted to maximize your time with Sebastian.

You briefly remembered the both of your ring sizes, as you two compared them.

Your excuse was that you wanted to see how big his fingers were... When in reality, you wanted to get him a ring. A golden ring. Even if you can't legally be married, the sentiment still stood.

After work ended, you rushed to a jewelers shop to pick up the custom ordered rings you had purchased a month ago.

"[Name], right? Your order is here, nice and packaged!" The cheerful worker spoke, placing two neat, tidy, and simple boxe on the glass table.

You walked to the counter, opening both of them. One was extremely large, and one was small in comparison; yours.

You smiled. "I appreciate it, thank you, dearly." You placed the small velvet boxes into an unused slot in your bag.

You hid the worker farewell, rushing to your car, and driving back home.

Over the span of the month that you lived with Sebastian in your new home, it had become a mess of your personality mixed with his.

His room, or, the basement, was filled with all sorts of junk. Metallica posters, different amps that lie next to electric guitars, and his favorite; cat pictures.

He had grown particularly fond of those silly cat memes you would find on YouTube or other media, but, he thought it was hilarious, especially in low quality.

He had gotten a printer for the sole purpose of printing out those dumb pictures and taping them next to his band posters.

Now. He had asked for your mother's blessing in advance. He wanted to marry you, or, at least, have the sentiment be there.

With a bittersweet smile, she agreed. Saying she's never seen you happier before.

She helped him purchased one, it was simple, but pretty.

Sebastian was nervous. His heart was beating like crazy, and his palms were sweaty.

"We need to talk." It was almost comedic how the both of you said it at the same time.

The two of you sat outside in the backyard, under the stars that you loved so dearly.

Your hand was gripping the box that contained his ring in your bag, while his third arm was in his pocket; holding a small box that had a ring for you.

You two only stared into each other's eyes, both of you too afraid to speak up.

He cleared his throat. "[Name]... I love you. I don't think I can explain it, at all."

He leaned down so that he was eye level with you, his right hand moved to your face, gently caressing your cheek. "My heart is full of you, I never thought I'd be this lucky to be loved by someone like you."

He pulled the box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring. Your eyes immediately teared up.

"[Name], let me..." His words trailed off, noticing how you wouldn't stop sobbing.

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" You interrupted him, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

So much passion and emotion in one small gesture, it felt like your body was on fire.

Sebastian's third hand held the small box firmly while the rest roamed your body.

He pulled away to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded; cheeks a darker color.

Only then, did you pull out your box that had his ring, opening it for him to see.

No words were exchanged as the both of you put on the rings that the other had bought for each other.

Now, you were finally together, forevermore.

[demonologue]

Tavuary weekly prompt 2: Amour

Title: Whom Gods Destroy Characters: The Emperor, Tav, Astarion (mention only) Rating: M Summary: There is ONE man Tav has those feelings for. But he’s just a dream. (Spoiler warning for the reveal and the in-game scene I jumped off of for this) Cross-posted from ao3 with visual aids!

So you found the seat of the Absolute’s power, and what a power it is.

You hear his voice before you see him: your guardian, the dream visitor. And suddenly you’re back in the mystical landscape that exists inside the relic. Glancing around, you try to take in your surroundings this time. Is this a real place, or merely an illusion made of memory? And are the memories yours or his? They do look familiar, somehow. 

Then he steps from behind a pillar into view, and you find yourself unable to look at anything else. Your mouth gapes like a fish out of water. He is wearing…nothing; a gauzy half-robe that leaves his muscular chest, toned arms, and long legs almost completely exposed. 

Where is his armor? As intimate a presence as his voice inside your head has become–someone who is deeply known and trusted, anticipated–you have always thought of him formally. Your guardian is regal. Commanding. Yet you know he feels deeply, for when he reads your mind, his thoughts are not completely hidden from you. 

This has been the sum of your relationship. And you have never, would never have thought of him like this. So what is happening? And why? Perhaps this is just a dream after all, and no actual visitation. You could ask the others in the morning…if you manage get up the courage to describe…this. You can hear Astarion’s mocking laughter already. No thank you. 

Your guardian pauses and looks down at you as you sit up from your bedroll. The look on his face is that seldom-seen one; the one you usually catch only as a micro-expression, if you see it at all. It is a predatory look; dangerous, but with just a hint of amusement. You are mine, it says. And I am pleased.  

That should trouble you now. But it doesn’t. You are still stunned to see so much of his body. The twisting gold which adorns his arms serves more to highlight than hide. And then he says:

I don’t know how much longer I can resist it.

And you think gods, I am not made for this.

It’s as if your libido echoes his sentiment. And as he proceeds to speak of the dire circumstances at hand, you fall into a mindless reverie of his body. In a way you would never have dreamed of before tonight…and yet here it is, so you must be doing it. 

Your guardian sits down beside you, and your heart leaps into your mouth, beating like that of frightened prey. Settling next to you, so close your skin is growing hotter by the moment–surely he will notice– he bends one knee to rest his arm on it. 

He continues to speak in that urgent yet soothing tone you’ve come to know so well, about how perilous your joint circumstance is, how crucial your mission. Something something Ketheric Thorm. 

You try to listen, but there’s a ringing in your ears. His inner thigh. Why did he just bare his inner thigh to you…and do it so casually? There is a disconnect between the proximity of his mostly-nude form to yours and the dire import of his words. Your brain cannot reconcile it.

Worse, you cannot stop staring. You force your gaze forward. Listen! You chide yourself. The lives of many depend on you. But you find yourself stealing glances at the figure beside you. You wonder what his skin would taste like. 

No! Listen! Look at literally anything else. Oh gods. He’s saying something about waves now. And your distracted brain thinks of the beach. The two of you sitting together as the waves gently caress the sand. How it would feel to bury your face in the hollow of his thigh…

You may be having a stroke, because your brain is not processing any of his important words. You bend forward and pretend to be listening. You pull your new shirt down to disguise your body’s reaction to him. To this.

Stop, eyes! Stop caressing his bare skin; he didn’t give permission. This is wrong. Your dreaming has transported you here to a demiplane that shouldn’t exist. More than a few things here are wrong, but nothing more so than the way your body is betraying you right now. Listen! You tell yourself. This is important! 

I almost dare not rest.

Oh no. The situation is even worse than you’d thought, and you’ve hardly heard a word. He glances over at you and you immediately wish you could dive head-first into the Abyss. You would do it now, if the opportunity presented itself. Without a second thought. 

But his expression remains how you see it most often: exhausted, hurt, yet determined. There is a steel will behind those blue-green eyes. A brief pause comes as he looks at you, and then one pierced eyebrow quirks. 

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, please keep talking. Mission. Important. That giant shipment of tadpoles heading for Baldur’s Gate you and the others just found. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you blurt out. A distraction. Please, gods. Anything. 

But it’s true; you don’t like to think about him fighting this war alone, unable to rest. He’s so beautiful brave and so very close dedicated. He deserves whatever help you’re able to give. 

You realize in this moment that you would die for him, eagerly and gladly, and it’s an ugly realization. One you should really hold at arm’s length and examine. But you can’t now. You don’t want to. 

You’re here, and he’s here, and you are together in this sacred space, alone. Like when he called you to the beckoning cave in the astral plane. The metaphor hits you now like ice down your back, shivering, too much. He wanted you. He demanded to see you alone.

He’s taking too long to answer your question. Oh gods, please let him say anything that’s not addressing what’s happening here. Your guardian has always been the picture of courtliness and formality--well, except for the part where he speaks into your mind, unbidden, at any time that suits him, and seems to be eavesdropping on everything you do. But surely he won’t draw attention to the fact your body has suddenly and utterly betrayed you with the enthusiasm of an adolescent boy. 

I’m afraid this burden is one I have to carry alone.

Oh, thank gods. Thank gods. Back to serious conversation. Hero talk, yes. Just a few more minutes of that, and your hormones should start to calm down. 

But…

No!

I feel I must apologize to you.

No no no no–what?

I must confess. I noticed when you were here, physically in my sanctuary… He actually glances away then, releases a breath. For a moment, he looks almost…demure?

What did he notice then? You wrack your brain, trying to remember any possible misstep. But no. You were overwhelmed to finally meet him in the flesh, but you didn’t…do anything…did you? Perhaps you blushed. That’s very likely. Your indigo skin was on fire and your heart had been beating out of your chest. 

But that could have been attributed to any number of things. You’d just been fighting for your life in the creche, after all. 

He’s still not looking at you. You seemed to find this form…pleasing. He glances up at you and then away, lightning quick.

Was that…shyness? Your regal, confident dream guardian is shy?! No. No, that’s not possible. 

So…I thought to show you more of it. He turns his head, looking 180 degrees away from you. And the only thing you can think of is the way his ponytail is just a little messy at the very back of his top bun. It’s endearing. A mortal imperfection in an otherwise perfect form. But now I see I may have gone too far. I never meant for it to be a distraction to you. 

Oh god, oh god, please don’t say it!

And for that, I must apologize. But when he turns to meet your gaze, it’s no longer the shy youth he pantomimed moments ago looking back at you. It’s something ancient. Predatory. Testing you. Wearing a sexy smirk that is daring you to react, and makes your hackles rise.

It’s…a lot. You’re not sure how to take it; or even how he means it. But you are a druid, and you know when another animal is trying to dominate you. It’s time to set some boundaries. Just like you did with Astarion that first night. 

“It’s true,” you begin, willing yourself to hold that alien, alpha gaze. “I would be lying if I said you…your appearance today wasn’t distracting. I’m not sure why you chose to reveal…so much of your body to me now, but I do know this: what’s happening outside this place is too important for distractions. 

“So…and please forgive me. It’s not that I–”

You swallow your words. The shame your visceral longing for him engenders in you. How desperately you want to climb on top of him and hold him down, devour every inch of him until that sonorous voice begs you for release.

You breathe in through your nostrils, exhale through your mouth. Count your heartbeats to ten.  

“Please don’t take this as an insult, because I swear to all the gods, it is nothing of the kind.” With that, you slip off your new silk shirt and hold it open, offering it to him. 

It has not escaped your notice: he’s never touched you. In all the intimate conversations you’ve had, the time you’ve spent together in dreams and in reality, he has never so much as hinted at a desire to do so. That’s as it should be. He is a general giving you, a mere soldier, orders. 

And yet. There is a mewling, pitiful part of you that you’ve pushed deep down; one that is desperate to touch him. To be touched by him. You're far too old for an infatuation like that. And you cannot, will not acknowledge it now.

He hasn’t touched you. Somehow, you just know: he won’t touch you. And so you hold the shirt out to him, for him to choose if he will take it or not. 

Your visitor does take it, graciously lifting it from your hands in a way that is careful to avoid physical contact. When he slips it on, the hem is almost longer than the toga he’s wearing, and you want to laugh, but you still can’t stop staring at his legs. 

Gods help you. You’d offer him your pants, but then you’d be the naked one. 

As he pulls the shirt on, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. It’s not to gauge your reaction; this time he’s looking at you. For just a moment, you can feel his white hot gaze on your body.

Now his chest is covered, you can concentrate on his face while he’s talking. Your mind can finally listen, but your body knows, if you glance down just so much, you can still see his bare thighs. It reacts to this knowledge, violently, and you fold your hands strategically in your lap, pretend to cough. There is nothing else to be done about…that now, so you ignore it. 

Thank you. He nods, the noble tactician once more. And you nod back. 

In any case, the Absolute knows you carry me with you now. It wants to retrieve me.

Your whole being bristles at this. Ketheric Thorm can’t have your dream visitor. You’ll die before a single cultist lays a finger on the prism. 

Bad enough you have to share him with the others–for you learned weeks ago, on nights when he visits, the dream is the same for all of you. The same visitor, the same words, just different visages. They are your found family, and the guardian’s chosen. You are connected, and so you bear it. But Ketheric Thorm? He is just another necromancer with delusions of grandeur, and he will fall by your hand. 

You ask why Thorm wants him, but you already know. Your visitor is special. Powerful. Unique in all the worlds.

I am the only one who can resist the Absolute’s influence.

That steel will you can only admire. Petty despots always seek to stamp out resistance. He explains what the enemy wants, and what you must do next. So many depend on you. It should be intimidating, but your body is humming: do it for him. I want to do it for him. This should concern you, but the sheer force of your desire is painful right now; it repels thought. 

Now I must rest, and you must carry on. Do not let my efforts be in vain.

“Never,” you promise, sounding like the most smitten fool. You’d hate yourself for it, but his eyes are still on you, and you have to soak up every last drop of his attention. You find yourself physically unable to break eye contact with him, and you have no desire to do so anyway. 

Finally, he releases you, and you begin to fall back into a dreamless sleep. Or so you thought. 

Friend. 

The way he says it draws you back.  

Soon. 

You give him a questioning look.

I can feel that which you desire…your wish to touch me. And I…I, too, wish for it. But you are not yet ready. 

You have a certain appendage that is physical proof to the contrary, but it’s an odd turn of phrase, and so you just listen. “When?” you find yourself asking, your breath become shallow with possibility.

Soon. Bear with me just a little longer. Please.

He reaches toward you, as if to caress your cheek, but he stands meters away. A conciliatory gesture only. But in his eyes there is an ache that mirrors your own. And it haunts you.

[horunicorn]

Oya Oya

Hewwo :3 I have written much smut but this is my first time making it public. Sorry it came out so long. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

Warnings: choking, dominance

The fusuma slammed shut behind you, rattling the shōji across the room, after he'd pushed you rather roughly into his room at the Shinsengumi dorm. You were honestly surprised the kumiko didn't fall apart.

"What the hell, Y/N?"

You curled your lip up at him defiantly. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me," he warned, pacing to and fro in front of the door, clearly agitated. Then again, the man did have a short fuse. "Who gave you permission to hang with the Yorozuya bastard? Is that what you do behind my back?"

His accusation flipped your entire mood over. You were cheeky before; now you were pissed. What right did he have to point fingers at you? After all, he was the one who pushed you to do it. For three weeks, you had been patient while he worked. Of course, since he lived where he worked, it seemed like he was never free, always balancing his vice commander duties in and out of the headquarters. He did ask for your permission before going on cases, to make sure that you were okay with him doing overtime on certain days. And you always assured him that you would wait for him, no matter how busy some days could get. You always told him that it was okay to put his job first when he needed to. But that didn't mean he could take advantage of your understanding, did it?

The guy was smarter than most; he picked up on hints and cues effortlessly, especially if they were from you. So why had he been so oblivious to your subtle advances these past weeks?

"Who are you to tell me who I can or cannot be friends with?" you snapped back, temper flaring.

"You know very well who I am and what I can and cannot do," he answered, a little condescendingly.

"Yeah, well, you should also know that Gin-san gives me way more attention than you do," you uttered rashly. It was how you felt on the inside. After so many days of neglect by Hijikata, Gintoki's friendly affection towards you had you hooked in like fish to bait. Every smile and head smack he gave you fed your growing hunger for a man you couldn't get to and yet you still went on with it. You hung around Gintoki, longing for Hijikata, for something physical, just to take away the ache of missing the vice commander.

"What did you say?" Hijikata's tight voice betrayed the anger that was sparking inside him. The thought of you just being in Gintoki's presence was enough to provoke him. Confirmation that you let him touch you - nevermind if it was just playful shoves or shoulder bumping - flooded his vision with red. "You let him touch you?"

You scoffed at his ridiculous jealousy. "I'm not a slut. All Gin-san did was listen to me when I was alone. He kept me company."

True, you worked eight hours a day but the tiredness didn't mean that you didn't want to talk late into the night.

"Company, huh?" Hijikata crossed the room to stand in front of you so fast that you had to double check the spot he was previously at, just to be sure. He was a head taller than you. Now that he was all riled up, his presence was intimidating, especially since you had to look up to meet his eyes. "It just had to be him?"

You knew better. If you let him go on, you would have angry make up sex in seconds. This was a matter that needed talking through, not blind fucking. You pushed him away harshly, much to his surprise.

"We're not in a movie, Hijikata." Ah, using his family name when you were alone was never a good sign. "You can't just fuck me and be done with it."

A thought crossed your mind. Maybe it wasn't that he was busy. Maybe it was you who had done things wrongly. If you hadn't dropped all those stupid hints and just came straight forward with your needs, you needn't have had to feel the pain of ignorance from him. Your low self-esteem came racing back to you.

It was my fault. I didn't talk to him.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, turning away from him. Your sudden change in demeanor startled him but it wasn't something he hadn't experienced before.

Just like that, his anger melted away. He stepped towards you, pulling your reluctant form into his arms.

"You shouldn't have to apologize for anything," Hijikata sighed, one hand carefully cupping the back of your head. When his temper wasn't in the way, he saw things much clearer. "It was wrong of me to accuse you like that, especially since I know how much I've been neglecting you. I just didn't like the fact that of all the people to go to attention for, it was him." Hijikata said him with visible distaste. You relaxed against him, calmer now that he was no longer angry, that he had assured you it was not your fault.

"But I like him," you protested.

"Could you not like anyone else?"

"You hate everyone else, except the gorilla and he's infatuated with Otae-chan."

"Are you saying you'd go to Kondo-san if you could?" Hijikata teased, instantly lightening the atmosphere.

With that you ducked out of his embrace. "Please. I don't do stalkers." Hijikata was quick to catch you again though, this time from behind. He placed a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear.

"If you hadn't gotten caught today," he began, "I would have shown my appreciation for your patience in a different way."

"You have something planned?" you asked excitedly, happy that he had been thinking of you too.

"I did," he confirmed in the past tense. "But I can't get Yorozuya's stupid smug face out of my mind."

You knew all too well why. You knew that hanging out with Gintoki came with a punishment if you were caught. Before you could respond, Hijikata had a hand locked around your neck, with pressure not enough to choke but just enough that made swallowing difficult.

"Sometimes I think you let yourself get caught on purpose," he went on in a low voice, free hand travelling down your left arm and tugging it behind your back. He had you in a hold you didn't have any intention of breaking out of. Indeed, just the feeling of his hand on your throat had you weak at the knees, ready to be ruined by him.

"T - Tōshi," you managed, voice strangled by the hand on your windpipe. "Hard to... breathe."

"But you like this, don't you?" He purred. "You want to be choked like the little slut you are."

Oh, there was no denying how much his words were turning you on. Getting choked with his hand was good. Getting choked on his cock was better and you were more than eager for it.

"Choke... me with... your...cock..." Earlier misgivings forgotten, you wanted nothing more than for him to use you. It was all you had wanted since using Gintoki as a filler. His attention.

"Mm, I don't think so, baby girl," he murmured, finally releasing you from his hold only to take your hand and drag you down onto his futon. "I want to give, not take. And I expect thanks."

Translation: I will fuck you senseless and you will be vocal about it.

"Dont you think you can punish me better if - " Your question was cut short by a gasping inhale. Hijikata had somehow managed to loosen the knots of the date-jime that held your nagajuban and kimono together amidst everything and was now shamelessly pushing his fingers between your damp labia, hand disappearing in the folds of the cloth. Immediately, your hips moved up, asking for more when he'd barely begun. He murmured an amused "oya oya" upon finding the absence of underwear on you.

"I think you've been wetter than this, haven't you?" Deviously, Hijikata poked two fingers into your hole without any warning. There hadn't been much foreplay but could you really complain when you were swallowing his fingers like the greedy whore you were? He pulled his fingers out along with your arousal and spread it over your clit, rubbing in tantalizing circles, like a taunt.

"You're going to tease me," you stated, breathless already.

"Just for now," he promised, the sensitive nub slipping between his pointer finger and middle finger. Your nerve endings fired, sending thick coils of pleasure up your body. Again, your hips moved up.

Hijikata chose that moment to take his hands off of you. He sat back on his heels, hands placed perfectly on his lap. Disheveled and disgruntled, you forced your pleasure-weak body into motion, sitting up with your kimono loose around you, one side sliding down to bare a shoulder.

This was no dream: your body had flaws everywhere. Beauty marks on your skin, scars from being clumsy, skin that wasn't silky smooth or creamy white. You felt very small when you walked past some women on the streets but Hijikata always made you feel perfect. He loved every one of your imperfections, which encouraged you at times like these.

"Frustrated?" he smirked and you wondered just what he was playing at. Unbothered, you knee-walked closer, until you were parked right in front of him. Your hands grasped at the lapels of his uniform jacket. The familiar musk of cigarette smoke wafted up your nostrils, further turning you on. His gaze was hot on you; you could feel it despite not looking at him. Deliberate in your movements, you pushed the jacket off then proceeded to unbutton his vest and undo the knot of the white scarf around his neck. You were busy working on his shirt when he caught your hand, bringing it up to his mouth.

The contact of the softness of his lips against your skin made your thoughts fuzzy. His stare lingered on you and your restraint broke. You crashed your lips into his, claiming your pleasure, trying to pacify your desire for him. He indulged you, using a hand to hold your head steady. You kissed and kissed until there was no more breath to breathe between the both of you.

Hijikata pulled back first, dragging a thumb across your lower lip. It was such an intimate move, hinting at the lust he had for you; that was all it took for you to go into full 'I need you now' mode. Impatient, you shoved him back and shimmied up his body, brazenly rocking your hips, smearing your arousal onto his white shirt. Obviously, he felt your dampness through the material and gripped your hips to stop you from moving. The sight of you grinding above him was too much for his already tortured mind. Everything had to go. Now.

Soon you were balancing above him, the tip of his hard cock pressing at your slick entrance. You braced your hands on his broad chest, breath controlled as you slowly sat down on him, the length of him sliding into you inch by inch until your ass touched his lap. The sensation of him in you never failed to make you moan. His girth, his length, everything was just enough to fill up your tight hole.

"My sweet girl," Hijikata murmured, eyes half lidded. "I'd nearly forgotten how good you feel around me." He held onto your hips. "Move for me."

At his demand, you lifted yourself off and back down again, whimpering at the discomfort. Yeah, he was definitely big. Without your weekly routine, your body needed time to get used to him again. It didn't take long, though. Hijikata's soft encouragement and touch had you thirsting for more in no time. You got used to the stretch, gaining momentum and confidence as you moved. No longer did it sting; there was nothing but pleasure with the way you had him sliding in and out of you. Every time you rose left his cock slicker than before, layer upon layer of your arousal coating him.

When your legs got tired, you resorted to bouncing, biting your lip when your ass slapped against his skin in the sexiest way. Hijikata was in awe beneath you. His blue eyes were dark, lips parted in heavy breaths. First his eyes fixed on the way he was entering you, on the way your sweet pussy just swallowed his cock. His rough hands roved up your stomach, fingers dancing over your jumping breasts. That was the second thing he stared at. The soft mounds of flesh on your chest that bounced along with you made his cock twitch. Then he looked at your face. At the way you bit your lip, the pleasure in your expression. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to dominate you.

The feeling swept over him. Having you on top was incredible, especially since he knew you could control the depth and angle of his entrance. But he needed to have you his way. He couldn't yet explain why.

You cried out in surprise when he sat up abruptly, forcing you to remain still on his lap. You pressed your chest to his, feeling him move along with you, in you. The movement brought on a whole new sensation that made you scratch his chest with a low moan.

"Can he do that?" Hijikata asked, voice thick with lust. And something else. He knew now why he needed dominance over you.

"Who - What?" You couldn't register his words and the meaning behind them at first, not until he flipped you both over in a practiced move and he rolled his hips into you, hitting every unclaimed spot within you. Your legs came around his hips.

"Can that silver haired idiot do this? Make you feel this good?" He pulled back slightly, only to plunge back into you with a jolt that pushed another moan from your mouth.

"N - No. Tōshi..."

Hijikata pulled at your hips, angling your lower body upwards and began thrusting into you, going deep and hard each time. He knew very well that at this angle, each slide of his cock was sure to brush your g-spot. And each time his pelvis met yours, the head of his throbbing cock would carass the tip of your cervix, making you buck your hips even further up.

Seeing you this way only fuelled his unneeded jealousy for a rival that was hardly a threat.

"I bet he can't," he agreed gruffly. "He doesn't know your body, does he? Doesn't know how my baby girl likes it. Tell me." Hijikata drove deep, pushing his own hips up. You choked on a moan, hands tight around his wrists. "Who's making you feel good?"

You were unable to answer, eyes in danger of closing, body on the brink of orgasm. As if fucking him wasn't hot enough. No, jealous Hijikata was even better. His need to hear your verbal confirmation of just how good he could drill you was heightening the entire experience.

Hijikata wrapped a big hand around your throat, forcing you to meet his steely gaze.

"Who?" he demanded.

A lone tear rolled down your cheek and you knew once you opened your mouth, you'd be begging. "Y - You, Tōshi. You're making me feel good. Fucking my pussy so good."

He smirked in satisfaction. There was no need to hold back now. With demonic speed, probably living up to his title, Hijikata slammed into you, hips snapping back and forth furiously. He hadn't even gotten to rub your clit yet and you came undone, pulsing around his cock, sinful moans falling from your mouth along with his name.

"One more time," he urged, tempted to stop and savour the way you were contracting around him. Snug in your warm wetness. He was close. Too close to stop. He spit on your clit and rubbed it in tight circles, coaxing yet another orgasm out of you. This was too much after the first and his name left you in screams, your body spasming, legs jerking. The sight of you being ruined by him did it. A few more thrusts and he fell on top of you, hugging your trembling body close as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He bit your shoulder, hard, enjoying the feeling of his seed leaving him and filling you. The others might not be at the sleeping quarters but you doubted that your screams hadn't reached the main block.

Once you both felt calm enough to move, Hijikata carefully extracted himself from you, using his scarf to wipe off any semen that came leaking out of you. You laid your head on his clammy chest.

"I'd never cheat," you said blatantly.

Hijikata pushed a hand through your messy hair, staring up at the ceiling. "I know. I just... wish I could have been there for you. I know it's not fair, having to always put up with my work."

"You're here now." You turned your head to smile up at him and he returned it with one of his own rare ones. The kind that took your breath away and reminded you of how different he could be around you. "Won't the others be looking for you?"

"Let them," he sighed. "I've been long overdue for a day off anyway." There was a brief pause, as though he were thinking things over. "Can I take you out?"

Your heart skipped a beat, delighted that you both could finally spend quality time together. Not that mindless fucking wasn't fun but normal couple stuff had to come in somewhere.

You smoothed your hand over the skin on his chest, loving how only you were allowed to touch him this way. "Yeah, you can."

[bump1nthen1ght]

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 1

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: None

Word Count: 2682 words

Summary: You have a chat with your soulmate

Prologue

“So, you want some?”

He  takes your stunned silence as no, checking that the crab is fully dead before pulling off a leg and biting the meat inside. His teeth catch the light of the setting sun, glinting white in between chunks of crab.

“So were-”

“Soulmates? Yeah, looks like it.” He, your soulmate, cracks off another leg and begins to chew. You find yourself transfixed watching him, mind reeling with questions. He uses the sharp claws on the tips of his fingers to dig out more meat. You’re not even sure where to begin.

“What do we do know?”

He shrugs, sucking out the last of the crab leg and tossing it aside.

“Dunno, guess this mystery is solved though.” He taps his wrist and you get a closer look at his soulmate mark.

It loosely resembles a human compass, yet alien in it’s design.There’s eight large symbols, none of which you recognize, and the arrow is slightly misshapen before straightening to a point.

“I always assumed my soulmate was in the Atlantic or something, maybe even a selkie. When that thought always drove my ma up the reef.” He sighs, pressing his chin against his palm as he lays against a rock. “Wonder how she’ll take this. Maybe she’ll turn a whole new shade of blue.”

His chuckle is low, rough against your ears, but not entirely unpleasant.

You can see more of his backside as he scoots closer into the tidepool. The first thing you notice is just how big he is, his tail stretching from his hips to the open ocean. The second thing you notice are the defined muscles which stretch and flex along his back.

Okay, what the fuck.

There’s a pressure building in your temples and you think you're beginning to overload. Your fucking soulmates eyes wander, looking nonchalant as can be beforeperking up when he sees another crab. His body slithering away from you to snatch it up snaps you out of shutdown mode.

“Uh, I guess….what’s your name?” He doesn’t take his eyes off his soon to be snack, only humming to acknowledge he even heard you. “I think that’s a good place to start, don’t you?” That at least gets you a chuckle, followed by a tiny crack!

“Cruz, you can call me Cruz.” You make eye contact as he takes a long, languid bite of crab. Your furrow your eyebrows, face unimpressed. He lights up with a mischievous grin.

“Is that your real name?”

“Nope,” Cruz says, popping the p and breaking open a claw, “But I don’t think you could pronounce my name so…..”

The tension in your jaw tights as he turns away from you once more,humming to himself and letting out a soft “Oh!” as the other leg reveals quite a bit of meat. You rub your brow and sigh.

“My names _____”

“Neat.”

In high school, your mom got the yearbook epithet “biggest social butterfly.” Your dad, however, was barely presentable on picture day and a social circle consisting of the three fellow chess-club members. You were a lot like your dad in many ways.

The conversation, to say the least, seemed to float on the water like a dead fish, and you had no idea how to resuscitate it. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t natural, it wasn’t that missing piece yoru guidance counselor said it would and dammit, it’s kind of pissing you off. You’re pissed off that it’s pissing you off, because when has making first impressions ever been easy for you? Did you think this was going to be different, because what, a stupid mark on your wrist? That has no basis in logic, not even a little bit.

You refuse to dignify any emotions similar to disappointment which begin to well inside you, because it’s ridiculous. You worked hard to get to California, you’ve worked hard your whole damn life, what's stopping you from working now?

“Welp, seems I scared away all the other crabs.” Cruz huffs and places his hands on his...hips? “Been nice chatting _____, but I got dinner to catch.” Cruz looks back at you as he slinks into the water, sending a salute and a wink.

The words bubble up in your chest before you can catch them as he begins to swim away.

“Wait, but, um, I-” Your commands fall clumsily out of your mouth and barely leaves a ripple on the water. Cruz doesn’t turn around.

You feel the heat sizzling up your neck and face as you look at his back. Flashes of him, the arrow, your mom, that stupid guidance counselor paint the inside of your eyelids.

No.

“Will you wait a second!”

The scream barely echoes in the small tidepool, but it’s enough to catch Cruz’s attention. He whips back to you, eyes slightly wide. You realize just how hard you’re breathing.

“I-, just, can you meet me here? Tomorrow?” Cruz's expression stays still, only the slightest bit of confusion crossing his eyes as he raises his brow. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

….

….

“What time….. do you want to meet up?” Cruz looks far less mischievous and much more sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with a clawed hand and looking up at you from under his eyelids.

“How about 5PM?”

Cruz narrows his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Ah, right, merman.

“About three hours before sunset. I mean, do you know how long an hour-”

“Yes, I know how long an hour is. I’m not a pup.” Cruz rolls his eyes

Well, the sass returns.

The two of you stay in that position for a little too long. You begin to rub your arms as the cold of the sea breeze and your social anxiety slowly come back to you.

“See you tomorrow, I guess.” With a hesitant nod, his black-blue eyes looking pensive, he submerges. Your breath comes back to you in a wave as your soulmate swims into the open ocean.

The walk back to civilization is a blur, the pounding voice in your head drawing out all other noise yet barely making sense itself.

You’re not sure what you expected of the first meeting with your soulmate, but it certainly wasn’t that.

---------

The next day, Cruz is waiting for you at the tidepool by 4:55 PM, shucking an oyster with one of his claws. He looks up as your feet splash into the tidepool. You wave.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

It’s an understatement to say the silence is uncomfortable. You take a beach towel out of your bag and begin to lay it on a large rock. The task helps keep your mind distracted, but you feel Cruz’s eyes burn into your back.

“So, I guess, what are you exactly?” You say, sitting yourself down.

“Merman’s best word I’ve heard you humans use, so that.” Cruz has shifted his focus  back on his oyster, which he then downs with one swallow.

“I see, I see. Are all mer-folk as big as you?” That catches Cruz’s attention. A self-satisfied smirk grows on his face as he puffs out his chest.

“Not at all. I’m a Great White and we’re one of the…” Cruz extends his arms art in front of him, flexing his fingers and his biceps in a decidedly braggadocious manner, “bigger species out there.” He finishes his statement with a playful wink. A tiny smile crawls on your face.

Interesting. Male Great Whites are typically around 12 feet, but Cruz is only about 9 feet. I wonder why that is?

“I can see that.” Cruz shifts, ego now lifted, and lays his weight on his right elbow, facing you. “You mentioned a mother, do you have a clan?” Cruz nods.

“Yup. It’s my ma, my dad, my two older sisters, and me. Plus two other families. My ma’s parents were from this reef.”

It’s difficult for you to fight the instinct to whip out your notebook and jot all this down.Your inner scientist screams to pry into the complex social hierarchy and behaviour patterns of this new species. But the more sane part of you knows that would probably be pushing some boundaries.

“Wow, so you’re a true Californian, huh?” Cruz squints his eyes at you. “Uh, that’s where we are. The territory Santa Cruz lies in.”

He gives a low hum, reaching for another oyster  nearby. This movement is far more natural than his earlier show, but you still get a full glimpse of his cut shoulder muscle and tight abdominals. It stirs something in you.

Would he have the swimmer’s V? Okay, stop, focus.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He pries open the oyster, staring at the soft meta inside. “A member of the clan, born and bred.” Cruz brushed the pad of his finger on the shell, his voice holding a quiet bitterness, tinted somber.

Should you comfort him? He’s within touching distance, but the thought of grabbing his hand feels too intimate, soulmate-ship be damned.

Before you can make a move, Cruz throws his head back and gulps down the oyster. He shakes his head and lets out a small “Ah~”, then pushes his short hair back against his skull. Whatever emotion that was there before, it’s gone.

“Where are you from?”

“East Coast, bordering the Atlantic. So you weren’t too far off.”

“Well, I’m not just a pretty face.” Cruz winks at you, but his eye catches a scuttling crab nearby. He gets low in the water, moving slowly to catch it by surprise. You don’t hum the Jaws theme, despite how much you want to.

“No siblings, just me and my parents.” Cruz doesn’t look away, even as he kills the crab.

“Lucky. How big's your clan?” The familiar crack of the shell follows.

“We don’t really,” crack “...have those. Humans can-” crack “We typically live near each other-” crack “but don’t get that-” crack “....close.”

Cruz hums contently, but you can clearly see it’s from the crab and not your one sided conversation. He sucks juice off his fingers. Seems you’ve lost him once again.

I didn’t expect this to be so difficult.

“Have you ever had cooked crab?” Cruz perks immediately, slowly turning back towards you.

Got ‘im.

----------

You return with two warm lobster rolls, a bag of crab legs, and some shrimp scampi. Cruz’s black-blue eyes just peak out of the water, suspicious.

“So these two are lobster, actually, but this,” You shake the crab-bag, “is all crab. I thought I ‘d get you a couple things to sample.”

Cruz’s nose (Is it a nose? There’s a ridge but you’re not sure if the slits count as nostrils. Questions for later.) just breaches the water as you set the crab-bag down and settle on your rock. You grab a couple of legs for yourself before nudging it  closer to him. “Have at it, it’s pretty self-explanatory.” You say midst a large bit of your lobster roll. The whole meal was not cheap, so you decided to indulge in this treat as much as you can. You’ve had a stressful couple of days.

Cruz slowly approaches the plastic, snatching it up quickly before looking inside it. His eyes widen and there's a small smile on his lips as he pulls a long leg out. His smile only grows bigger.

“Oh, also!” You clap, pointing towards the bag and jolting Cruz out of his food-induced joy. “There’s sauce, garlic butter, shit like that in those little plastic containers at the bottom. You dip the crab meat in them.” You take another large bit of lobster roll and hear Cruz break into a crab leg. Cruz gets his mouth ready to take a big bite before pausing. His eyes flit between the lef and the garlic butter, before he slowly pulls the lid off and dips the meat in. Cruz then takes the tiniest bite possible.

His eyes, black as they are, light up. He quickly takes another, larger bite. It’s quite adorable, like a baby trying ice cream for the first time. Cruz devours the leg quickly before snapping into another sauce.

“You like it?” Cruz nods, cheeks stuffed with crab meat as you giggle.

“What kind of craf is fiss?”

“Dungeness. That’s commonly eaten by humans. They’ve got some of the highest meat value and they're all over  the West Coast.” Cruz nods, though you’re not sure he understands parts of your sentence. “They’re also pretty sustainable to fish, although ocean acidity is kinda fucking with their babies. It’s also been fucking with Red King Crabs, which sucks because their only found in like, four places and are so beautiful and also sustainable and-” Cruz has stopped eating and is staring at you. After a big, long breath in you realize how fast you were talking. You feel the what of your blush on the base of your neck. “Sorry, I’ll let you eat. I just...really like crustaceans. A Lot of aquatic animals, but crabs especially are… I’m doing it again. Sorry.” You take a large bite so you won’t have to talk for a couple of seconds, avoiding eye contact with Cruz. You’re sure your chest and arms are bright red; It’s an embarrassing symptom of when you get too excited.

Cruz just keeps staring at you. Frankly it’s the longest he's looked at you and not a nearby snack. You chew the slowest you possibly can, the brioche bun becoming mush in your mouth, to fill the silence.

You don’t see it, but a small smile widens on his face. He picks at his empty crab shell.

“I think those facts are crab-tastic.”

You immediately choke on a bit of lobster roll, pounding your chest as you sputter between mouthfuls. When your eyes stop watering, you see Cruz has moved closer to you, hand outstretched and a couple inches from resting on your calf. He jerks it back when you look down at him.

“Wow, thanks, but puns aren’t really part of my vocrabulary.” You obnoxiously wink, scrunching up the left side of your face. Cruz laughs. Not a chuckle, but a full, belly laugh.

“Well I find them quite crab-tivating.” A larger laugh bursts from your chest as he mimics your wink and shoots you another big smile.

The sharp teeth are beginning to grow on you, adding to Cruz’s boyish charm. You feel the hot blush in your chest crawl up your neck once more.

Oh fuck.

Cruz reaches for another crab leg but hits the bottom of the bag, a playful pout now on his chin.

“Here, try this next.” You hand him the second lobster roll. “Probably don’t want to get this one wet, it’ll be soggy.” With no hesitation Cruz digs in, perking up once more and going to town. His teeth serate through the bread like butter. Within 4 bites, the entire roll is gone.

“Dang, I’ll make sure to bring some more food next time.”Cruz pauses, mid-lick of the butter on his claws and looks up at you.

“Next time? You want to meet up again?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Well yeah, don’t you?”

Cruz stays quiet, no sassy comment or a sarcastic look. Just staring, mildly shocked.

Your embarrassment bubbles back, screaming you’ve misread this whole situation and the last few minutes. “I mean, we are soulmates. Shouldn’t we meet up again?”

Cruz's eyes narrow as a barrage of thoughts seem to flit across his head. His smile recedes back into a straight line, that little spark leaving his eye.

“Yeah, I guess we have too.” He crinkles up the plastic bag, shoving it against your calves. “See you tomorrow.”

A pit rolls in your stomach as he quickly moves to leave.

Did I say something wrong?

“Uh, I’m actually busy tomorrow. Can we do Thursday-er, 3 days from now?” Cruz nods, not turning around to face you before slipping back into the water and swimming away.

The pit doesn’t leave your stomach, an empty sauce container rolling across the rocky shore.

What just happened?

[kiirokero]

Seashell (KNJ)

Pairing: Merman!Namjoon x MarineBiologist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Merman!Au, Strangers to friends to lovers

Word Count: 4,393 

Summary: Working as a marine biologist was a dream. You loved the ocean and its creatures, and one of those creatures loves you back. What happens when things go sideways and you have nowhere else to go besides to the one person who felt like home?

Warnings: Slight allusion to animal mistreatment.

Note: This took way too long...

   You breathed in the fresh salty air of the beach; it stung your nostrils pleasantly as you sighed, content laced in the action. The sunset on the horizon was beautiful, decorating the soft sand and calm waters delicately. Every day after work, you would walk down from your house that was up the hill, towards the soothing beach you saw every day. You could clearly see your small beachside house from the shore, making the rarely visited beach that much more intimate.

     Just like always, you played along the shore like a little kid. Drawing things in the sand, splashing around in the shallow waters, collecting seashells. It was just the thing you needed after a long shift at work. The sand between your toes and the salty air in your hair calmed the tension you had from the hours before. Being a marine biologist wasn't easy, especially when you were constantly getting into arguments with your boss over the health and safety of the local coral reef. He always said it wasn't a huge priority, but in imminent danger or not, you felt it needed to be protected more.

    "Why can't he understand that it's better to protect it now rather than later?" You grumbled, taking a seat on a rock that breached the barrier between shore and ocean. A cliff stretching overtop half-way, giving the area a cave-like feeling. You walked to the edge and put your feet in the cool water, smiling as the familiar tide of the salty water caressed your skin. You splashed the water around, watching the deep blue swirl in a smooth dance, the deep orange light of the lowering sunset blushing the surface with blinding sparkles. It mesmerized you. So much so, that when you felt something brush up against your feet, it gave you a heart attack.

     You shot your feet out of the water and slid away from the edge of the rock. Breathing unevenly as you looked down at your feet for any abnormalities. After you calmed down, you chuckled at yourself for overreacting, "Gosh, it was probably just seaweed... Scardy cat." You moved back towards the edge, peering into the deep blue, tumbling backward when a sudden splash caught you off guard. You shrieked, falling on your back, groaning at the sudden, sharp pain it caused.

    "Oh no! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" You heard a deep voice say, you sat up and looked at the source of the mysterious speaking. Eyes landing on a muscular man with honey tan skin. Deep, sparkling brown eyes. Wet dark blue hair saturated with water. But what caught you off guard the most was the fin-like appendages protruding from the man's forearms, resembling those of a fish, the shape familiar to you as you saw the same appendages on the little creatures you interacted with on a day-to-day basis.

     You didn't even realize you weren't moving or speaking until he spoke up again. "Um... Hello? Are you okay?" You blinked before nodding a 'yes', not trusting your words flow out of your mouth. He gave you a smile, and you didn't miss the beautiful dimples that adorned his equally beautiful face. He placed his hands on the edge of the rock and pushed himself out of the water, landing on the edge with a thud. You gawked at his toned body and strength. If only you knew what to expect when you looked down.

     Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw that instead of legs, the man had a beautiful blue tail. Scales shining in the light as they effortlessly flowed down the limb. Scales also dotted around his abdomen, creating a satisfying transition from human to sea creature. The man noticed you staring and chuckled, the sound deep as it vibrated against your ears.

"Never seen a merman before?" He teased.

"M-merman?" You echoed.

"Yeah, you know, half fish half man."

"You guys are real?!" You shrieked.

"Ouch, yes, of course we're real."

    You realized your harsh words and quickly apologized, "I was just surprised is all... This isn't a prank... right?" You cautioned. He shook his head and motioned you to come closer, which you did. Something was telling you the man should unsettle you, that you should scamper back to your house, locking the door, far away from the mystery man. But another part of you trusted him. Maybe it was the fact he resembled a human, or maybe it was the curiosity of the marine biologist in you, you weren't sure.

    The man gently took your hand and placed it on his tail. You let out a quiet gasp as the familiar feeling of fish scales met your fingertips. No doubt it was entirely fishlike, the way it felt semi slimy but smooth. He took your hand again and put it on the fin that was attached to his forearm, and yet again, it felt just like a fish, down to the T.

"Believe me now?" He asked.

"Y-yeah," You nodded, "I'm Y/N by the way..."

"Namjoon."

"Nice to meet you, Namjoon."

      You didn’t go back to the beach for a couple days, scared to face the reality that you thought was just a dream. But it wasn’t, the pain in your back told you otherwise. Merman. The word ran through your head over and over. Merman. The creature that originally made you curious about the ocean was real. It breathed, swam, talked. 

      How was this even biologically possible? You always thought that if Merfolk were real, they’d be bald for less traction in the water, have more scales than skin, no nose even. But Namjoon was handsome. Like a siren. His skin had this beautiful honey glow and he seemed to be sculpted by Poseidon. He had the looks of a god, yet when he smiled he turned into a cutie. 

      You sat on your back porch thinking about him, the setting sun a familiar memory. Why are you thinking about him? You wanted to say it’s because you're a scientist and he interests you biologically, but deep down, you know that’s not the truth. He interests you as a person. How could someone so good looking be so shy and clumsy?

      You sighed, opting to go see if he was there at the rock. It wasn’t a long walk; you got there in no time, but the place seemed to be vacant. Nothing but you and the waves brushing up against the rocks. It was quite calm today, calmer than normal, which made you want to stay here for a bit. The sight was familiar, the setting sun, orange rays, sparkling ocean. You took a deep breath, humming at the distinct smell of sand and salt. It was always so lovely.

“You’re back.” 

     Surprisingly, you didn’t jump six feet in the air when you heard his voice, you just calmly turned your head to the side. There he was in all his tan glory, the setting sun making him look ethereal. “Yeah... I am.” You sighed. “I thought I scared you away...” Namjoon said gloomily, swimming over to where you dipped your legs in the water. You didn’t say anything back, what could you say? ‘Hey, you’re literally defying everything I learned in college and I don’t know what’s true anymore’? That was one reason, but the most damning one was, ‘You interest me as a person, and nobody interests me. It’s scary how we seem to click.’ How do you say that?

      “I... don’t scare you, do I?” Namjoon asked, making sure to keep some distance between the two of you. “You don’t have to be scared, I’m not dangerous.” You giggled at his words. No, you didn’t think he was dangerous, if he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it earlier. What was dangerous is the way you want to be around him. You wanted to make him smile, you wanted to get to know him. You never felt that with anyone else. It was dangerous how much you wanted to have him as a friend. “I know that, but finding out that Mermen exist was a shock.” You partially admitted. “I guess it would be for anybody.” He chuckled. “But you came back.” He pointed out. 

      “Yeah, I did.” He swam closer, testing if you were going to push him away. “Why?” He whispered. You bit the inside of your cheek, you were never good at lying, and he’s asking the question you desperately wanted to answer with a lie. But you couldn’t. Not when he was looking at you like you weren’t a selfish human. “I’d like to say it’s because the scientist in me is curious about mermen.. But the truth is, you just interest me as a person.” Namjoon was silent for a bit, contemplation clear on his face. 

      “You’re a scientist?” He finally said. “Marine Biologist.” You clarified. His eyes lit up, and in his excitement, jumped up on the rock and cupped your face in his soft hands. “So you like the ocean?” He gasped and you swore you could see stars in his eyes. “Yes, I love the ocean and everything about it.” You chuckled. “Then we’d be great friends!” His smile was huge and you couldn’t help the urge to poke one of his dimples. 

Friends... Could you be friends?

   "Not fair, fish boy!" You yelled. "Oh, it's totally fair!" Namjoon retorted, splashing you with water once again, using his massive tail to his advantage. It felt like getting hit by a tidal wave. "You play so dirty!" You complained, sending a splash towards him, weak compared to his tsunami. It had been two years since your first encounter with Namjoon. The day you went back to the beach again, the two of you talked and got to know each other. At first, you planned to go home and finally forget about him, but after a lot of begging, Namjoon convinced you to come back, and then it became a habit.

     Namjoon swam up to you and pulled you close into his arms. He usually did this when he saw you were tiring from keeping yourself afloat. "You're not fair." You huffed as you rested your head on his chest. You heard him laugh, deep and smooth, causing you to smile. Namjoon became your only friend since you could never connect with the people you interacted with daily. He would bring you shells, pearls, flora, and much more. Your house looked like a beach itself.

     "I'm so lucky I found you, Y/N." Namjoon sighed, you looked up at him and smiled, "What makes you say that?" You tilted your head to the side, awaiting a response. "You're just so.. awesome. You teach me things about humans and you've always been there for me. My brothers have heard so much about you that your name is a regular topic in our house." He admitted. He had mentioned his brothers before, all 6 of them. You always laughed at the funny stories that Namjoon would tell you about the energetic Jungkook or the grumpy Yoongi. Confining in you whenever he had a fight with his older brothers, mostly Seokjin, and you sat there as he complained about his younger brother's shenanigans.

     "Your sure they're fine with you hanging around with a human?" You questioned jokingly. Namjoon threw his head back and groaned, knowing the question all too well. You used to ask seriously, honestly worried about him, but after the eighth time, it just became a joke to annoy the merman. "I'm not answering that." He grumbled. You couldn't hold back your laugher and Namjoon begrudgingly joined you, laughing along.

     You couldn't help but admire Namjoon. His pretty eyes, cute dimples, plump lips, everything about him screamed perfection. His muscular arms and toned body always seemed to make your legs weak, his smile made your heart thud, and his personality mirrored a charming prince. You always admired him, and it scared you. 

     "Y/N, you're staring~" Namjoon's sultry voice caught you off guard, you quickly looked away, hiding your red face in embarrassment. "You're adorable!" He mused as he poked your cheeks, causing you to whine and swat his hands away, "Stoopp," You complained. He chuckled and pulled you close, stroking your hair, making you look up at him.

      The look in his eye was comforting, homely. It made your heart soft, wanting to melt into the warmth of his tan chest, to fall asleep to the melody of his breathing. You missed feeling warm. You missed hugs. You were touch starved and this god of a merman was giving you what you needed. Even if the two of you said nothing, the only noise filling your ears that of the ocean's wave, it wasn’t awkward. It was never awkward with Namjoon. 

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Until now.

"W-what?"

"Can I kiss you? Do humans not kiss?" He tilted his head like a lost puppy.

"Y-yes humans kiss, but why do you want to kiss me?" You blushed.

"I like you. I really like you." He admitted.

"Don't play jokes, Joon..."

     "But it's not a joke, I really do! I love your hair, your voice, your eyes, the way you scrunch your nose at the mention of sea kelp ramen." You scrunched your nose, and he giggled, "Yeah, like that, so, can I seal my confession with a kiss?" He asked, a silent plead hiding in his eyes. 

      Your brain was frying, thrown for a loop. Yes, you found Namjoon majorly attractive, not just in looks, but in personality. How he could go on and on about the botanical world of the ocean. How sometimes he was clumsy with the huge blue appendage that he’s dealt with for years, yet still fumbling over it from time to time. How he spoke so lovingly of his brothers. 

     However, you were a human; he was a merman. You had two legs; he had a tail. How was it supposed to work? How could you give him everything he needs? You couldn’t hold him at night, you couldn’t go on dates, you couldn’t even see each other unless it was here. 

      But you were selfish. You were selfish and wanted to be with him, despite all the reasons why you shouldn’t. Why you should back up and tell Namjoon that it could never work, that you couldn’t be the one for him. But you were selfish, and you nodded your head, pushing down the bubbling guilt you felt in your chest when you saw him smile. It was blinding.

       He leaned in and you felt his plump lips meet yours, fitting together like a puzzle piece. It was soft at first, gentle as if your lips were glass, easily broken. He wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He tilted his head to kiss you deeper, pressing his warm lips against yours eagerly, desperately wanting to imprint the shape of your lips in his mind, remember the curve of your cupids bow and the warmth that made his heart beat faster.

      If you were standing, your sure your knees would’ve wobbled with the way his soft touch sent your heart soaring. You couldn’t focus on anything but him, the merman in front of you. His slightly calloused fingers rubbing circles on the small of your back, his tail wrapping its way around your legs, his wet hair dripping salt water down your face. 

      His arms flexed as he gripped your waist tighter, waiting to keep you there, flush against his body forever. Nothing but the two of you and the ocean, lovingly caressing you with its calm waves. The thoughts of the long-term nothing but ghostly whispers, lingering in the back of your mind. You wanted to stay here forever, in his muscular arms, wrapped up in his beautiful tail.

     Unfortunately, you had to breathe, so you pulled away, huffing to make up for the lost oxygen. You looked up at Namjoon, eyes half lidded. "Wow," Namjoon sighed, "I want to kiss you forever," You giggled and buried your head in his chest. "Can we... be a thing?" He asked, hesitance laced in his voice. It was a question you secretly dreaded, because you knew you couldn’t refuse him."As long as your brothers are fine with you dating a human." You teased. Attempting to swallow your guilt.

"Y/N I swear to god."

      Today was a rough day, and that’s putting it lightly. You woke up feeling amazing, the memories of your fun with Namjoon still fresh, even if it was yesterday. However, when you stepped into work, things turned sour. 

      You never had a terrible relationship with your co-workers per se... But you weren’t a people person either. You found it hard to have a conversation with someone who you just didn’t click with, unlike Namjoon. Though, you weren’t expecting this. 

      It was no secret the company you were working for was going under. They just never seemed to make the right decisions, always favoring money over their actual job. Protecting and researching sea life. It ended up being there downfall after a lawsuit ended up on their way too shiny desks. You don’t know exactly what happened, but pieces of information made its way through the grapevine.

      Apparently, they made another greedy decision. The local sea otter population was dwindling slowly. Sadly, you’d see less and less of the little guys. It was the company's job to humanely capture and help the otters, eventually releasing them when scientists, like you, found out why they were dying. Humanely was the key word. A key word they didn’t pay attention to when a cheaper, crueler way of capturing the otters arose. 

      You already felt shitty. If only you’d known, you could’ve done something about it sooner. However, you were at the bottom of the food chain. Your job was to utilize those years of college to research these animals. Everyone knew you were always extra caring towards these creatures. How could you not be? They had no idea what was happening, you at least wanted to ease their anxiety in the form of positive reenforcement. 

     Little bits of fish here and there, pets for the animals that you could touch, giving the water bound creature the extra large tanks. It was the least you could do. You always wanted the animals to feel okay, because they shouldn’t be away from home in the first place. But your ways of comfort caused time, and money.

      Which was the perfect reason for your boss to lay you off. Of course it was a coverup, they needed to let employees go, to keep their money, you understood that. But they couldn't do it without a sound reason, So, when you found out all of your co-workers threw you under the bus to save their own asses from getting fired, it infuriated you. 

      How could they? What did you do to them? Nothing. It was a dog eats dog world here, and you knew it from the beginning. It was obvious most of the people here were in it for the hearty amount of money being a marine biologist could get them, not for the animals. 

      You didn’t know what to do, the closest place that would hire you was 30 miles away, meaning you’d have to move. You’d have to leave without Namjoon, and that broke your heart. The thought of not seeing his dorky face every day after work tore your heart apart. This is what you get for being selfish. The universe was turning on you, making you feel the pain of heartbreak and the hopelessness of your world crumbling before you. 

      Soon, you find yourself sitting on the rock that is full of memories. Some good, some bad. Like the time the two of you had your first argument, idiotically about who knows more on sea life. Or the memory where Namjoon gifted you a seashell necklace that you still wear till this day, you never take it off. The sudden sound of splashing water tore you out of your thoughts. 

      “Darling!” Namjoon’s warm voice flowed through the air, blessing your ears with some sort of comfort. He smiled at you, his cute dimples showing, giving you the urge to poke them. However, his smile faltered when he saw the tear stains tainting your cheeks.

      “Seashell, what’s wrong?” He called, heaving himself up on the rock. Seashell, the nickname made you smile. You never thought it could be a pet name, but Namjoon seemed to make it work, insisting he’d use it since they were your favorite thing to collect and the ones he gave you sat proudly on a designated shelf.

      “It’s been... A bad day.” Your voice came out rough and shaky. Namjoon reached out to you, pulling you into his arms. He was wet, and the water saturated through your nice work clothes, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be selfish again and have Namjoon hold you before you told him the news. News that would not only shatter you, but Namjoon too. 

      Tears flowed out of your eyes as sobs wracked through your body. You wrapped your arms around Namjoon’s semi-scaly waist and held him closer, desperately wanting to burn the feeling of his warmth into your mind. Namjoon let you cry before trying to calm down your frantic breaths. “Hey... Y/n. Breath darling. Calm down.” Namjoon whispered to you, resting his forehead against yours.

      “Breathe with me.” He ran you through a basic breathing exercise. In through your nose, out through your mouth. After you calmed down, you felt the pressure building up behind your eyes and you dreaded the headache that was to come tomorrow. 

      “There you go.” Namjoon smiled, pulling you into a chaste kiss. “Now, talk to me, seashell.” You weakly smiled, gathering the remnants of your courage that laid in pieces around you. “I...” You took a deep breath, “I got fired today...” You choked out, almost breaking down again. Namjoon cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone. “Oh, darling...” He pulled you closer to him once again, holding you tight. “But... That’s not all...” You murmured into his chest.

      Namjoon pulled you away, giving you a look that said ‘Carry on.’ “T-The closest place that can hire me is 30 miles away...” The tears started coming back. “And... And that means I would have t-to leave but... Joonie, I don’t want to leave...” You choked down a sob and buried your face back into Namjoon's chest. He said nothing as he held you closer, silently comforting you the best he can. 

      You can tell by his slumped body language that he was feeling hurt, lost, heart broken. Your selfish actions have led to somebody’s despair and it made you sob harder. Guilt wracked its way through your body, and you collapsed in his hold. “Come with me...” Namjoon whispered, petting your hair. 

      You shot your head up, looking Namjoon right in the eye. “W-What? I can’t Joonie. I’m not like you...” He held your hands and started scooting towards the edge of the rock. “Yoongi hyung! He can help!” He exclaimed with a newfound hope. “How?” You chuckled somberly at the excitement in Namjoon’s eyes. “He’s what we call a sea witch. Remember when we talked about them one day?” You nodded, remembering how you glowed like a child when you found out about Merfolk magic. “Yoongi hyung might know a spell... To help us.” He lowered himself into the water, placing his hands on your knees. 

      “What are you saying Joon?” You pressed. “I-I don’t want to lose you... So... I want to be selfish and take you with me.” He sighed, eyes a mix of intangible emotions. You froze, Namjoon? Selfish? Never. He was the most selfless person you’ve met. Always willing to help you, hold you, gift you things, make time for you. If you’d ask him to pull a scale and give it to you, he’d do it in a heartbeat to make you happy.

      You were the selfish one, knowing that one day you’d have to part ways. Falling in love with someone who felt like the home you lost long ago. You were the selfish one for giving in, for desperately wanting happiness, even if you knew it would hurt everyone in the end, Life throws wrenches in your road all the time, but you still let him fall in love with you. You let him kiss you, hug you, hold you, all for your selfish desire to be loved. “Your not selfish, Joon...” You sighed, and he gave you a soft smile.

      “Yoongi knows this transformation spell. He showed it to me a month ago... I thought maybe it could help us... Be together.” Namjoon was desperately dancing around the subject, but the hints he gave you were enough. “He can turn me into a mermaid?” You gasped, Namjoon nodded, taking both of your hands in his, kissing each one. 

      “I-If you want to...” He stuttered, nervous. If you wanted to... Did you want to? What did you have to lose? You don’t have a job, or friends... What about family? You're a single child to deceased parents, the only connection you had with your family was the New Year's postcards you got from your second cousin who seemed adamant about keeping it peachy with everyone who has your family's blood. 

      So what did you truly have to lose? If you went off the grid, who would look for you? Would they care enough to look for you? Your cousins are all married with their own lives, and your aunts and uncles only seemed to acknowledge you when they disagreed on your political opinions. The only person who ever made you feel loved in a way you lost when your parents passed was the merman, who looked on the brink of tears, floating in front of you. 

If you went with him, you had nothing to lose, so why refuse?

“Go get the grumpy old man. I’ll be here.” 

“Really? You’ll come with me?” Namjoon gasped.

“Yes.” You smiled.

“I love you so much, Seashell.”

“I love you too, Joonie.” 

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, co-written with @darkmagyk [read on ao3]

“I’m in love,” Piper tells her when she shows up for another fitting. “Have you seen the new Beyonce video?”

“I heard the song.” Annabeth says, “isn’t that enough?”

“God, your whole play-acting thing is too far if you’re pretending to not like Beyonce.”

“I never said that.” Annabeth holds up her hands, “I like the song. But I did not see the video.”

“Well, when you see it, you’ll be in love too, but I will fight you.”

Piper could be scrappy in a fight. But Annabeth had been a champion fencer in high school.

“Kidding!” Piper says at her look. “There’s plenty of them to go around.” She didn’t even start to drape fabric over Annabeth, pushing her onto a muslin covered couch, and then pulling the video on the TV. She didn’t have one of those voice control devices. Because she was friends with Leo, and he was pretty firm on them being evil. “But I do call dibs on the main guy. The CALVES. The thighs. He’s unreal.”

“That good?” Piper went all ways, though as of late she gravitated towards women more often than not, so this was some high praise indeed. 

“Unreal, I am telling you. Like, the hand of God came down and sculpted him personally out of marble.”

Already in her recent watch history, the thumbnail of the video greets them, the song title splashed across the TV screen, weaving between  a very, very familiar set of legs. 

Like, intimately familiar. 

In something of detached horror, she watches the camera pan up, lovingly lingering on every inch of bare skin, following the muscles of his calves (which were unreal) to his knees then his thighs (which Annabeth had spent almost too much time between now), up his torso and his chest (which she knew made for an excellent pillow) to Percy’s face, set in a firm, hard stare. 

And that fucking blue lipstick again. 

She can’t even focus on Beyonce herself, too distracted by the way her hand traces the length of Percy’s outstretched thigh held in perfect arabesque as she gracefully drapes herself over him, crooning softly into his ear.

Annabeth should do that next time. That’s her spot, after all. 

Tearing her eyes away from the screen even as Piper watches, enraptured, she slips out her phone, sending a quick, furious text. 

annabeth: BEYONCE???????

A minute, then he responds. 

percy: oh lol i didn’t realize that came out today 😁

percy: what’d you think?

annabeth: i think im going to kill you later

“Just look at him,” Piper says, pausing on Percy’s form, his arms outstretched, fingers placed delicately around a bar. “I mean--look at him!”

“Yeah,” she chuckles, maybe a little uneasy. “He’s alright I guess.”

Incredulous, Piper swivels her head. “Alright? Alright? Do you need your eyes checked?”

She just shrugs. 

Why is she being so weird about this? It’s just Piper. She’s trained to find symmetry and beauty in bodies. They’ve happily shared crushes and fixations plenty of times before, so why is Annabeth being so weird about Percy? It’s not like they’re… you know… dating or anything. Just hooking up a bit. 

Piper squints at her, then shrugs herself. “Fine. I don’t have time to get an answer out of you anyway. Come on.”

“Speaking of time,” Annabeth says, following Piper back into the kitchen studio, “I have to head out by 6:30.”

“Oh yeah?” Piper’s head is buried in her belt box, searching for the perfect accent. “What for?”

“I’ve got a show to catch.”

“Kind of early,” she says, pulling out something thin and silver. “Don’t you usually meet Thalia at the ass crack of midnight?”

“Well I kind of want to eat first.”

“Okay.” She cinches the belt around her waist, tight. “Then you’re going to have to help me with this skirt.”

***

Hands aching from hours of macrame, Annabeth walks up to the box office window at the Koch Theater at 7:46, having a handful of second thoughts. 

Old, uppity white couples keep shooting her some particularly intense passive aggressive glares, some of them even venturing into actually aggressive territory, which usually wouldn’t even register on her very short list of things to care about, except that she is feeling woefully out of place. The lady in front of her has ten pounds of diamonds hanging off of each old, wrinkly ear, and the best Annabeth could do was fish out her least-ripped pair of jeans, pairing it with one of her nicer black shirts, the sleeves long enough to cover most of her tattoos. The macrame kept her longer than she had meant, so she didn’t have time to change before dinner, but fuck it, right?

She did also take out most of her face jewelry on the way. But she left the nose stud, obviously. And the tongue piercing. And the industrial, because Percy really likes those, so she doesn’t feel that bad about it. And he hadn’t even told her about this until after she had already given herself the half-undercut, so it’s not like she could do anything about that either.

“Can I help you?” At least this box office worker isn’t giving her the stink-eye. 

“I’m here to pick up a ticket? Should be under ‘Jackson.’” He’d offered to leave it under her name, but this was safer. She doesn’t think her mom is a big ballet person, but she isn’t about to risk it, either.

She slides the ticket towards Annabeth beneath the glass plane. “Enjoy the show,” she says, with a quirk of her mouth that is surprisingly sincere for someone in customer service. 

She’s pretty sure she’d enjoy the show more if she weren’t panicking thinking about getting dirt on their fancy carpets. Her boots are clean, of course, and she doesn’t really care, but she doesn’t want to, like, embarrass Percy or whatever. She’d asked him if she should dress up, but he’d assured her otherwise. “No one’s going to care, I promise,” he’d told her the night before, her lounging in his bed while he did some pushups. “And if anyone says something, let me know and we can kick their ass after the show together.”

“Great. Guess I don’t have to break out the Chanel, then.”

He’d paused, frowned, then huffed a laugh, shaking his head. Like the idea of Annabeth wearing Chanel was hilarious. Like what she’s wearing tonight really is the best that she can do.

Self-consciousness isn’t really a feeling that Annabeth has anymore. She’s spent so many years chafing against expectations, shucking them off when she inevitably failed to meet them, desperate for a place, a crowd where she could just be. In her scene, she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and when Percy is out with her, he doesn’t need any convincing. He likes her. He likes her a lot, she thinks. He likes her enough to let himself be dragged out to every shitty dive bar and shittier rock show in New York City, laughing and cheering and holding her close the whole time. He likes her enough to cart her to his apartment at 4 AM, inevitably waking Nico up from his undead slumber, and leave her with nothing but a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead. And she likes him, too--a lot. Annabeth likes Percy enough to ditch her band t-shirts for a night and track mud on the carpet of the Koch Theater and willingly sit through a performance of fucking Swan goddamn Lake of all things, and it’s only a little scary how much she is willing to do for him after only a few months of fucking him. Because this really isn’t her scene, not anymore. 

The weight of everyone’s stares bears down on her, threatening to crush her beneath them, a feeling she was so sure she’d left behind. 

At least Percy had been thoughtful enough to get her a ticket out of the way in the back of one of the balcony sections. It’s a bit of a hike, but the audience members aren’t dressed quite as nicely as the ones downstairs, and she feels like she can breathe a little easier.

She pulls out her phone, checking her text messages on instinct. There’s a selfie from Percy in his stage makeup (and she’s not going to lie… he looks fucking pretty), with his standard accompanying three blue heart emojis. She can’t help it, her heart skips a beat and she can’t help but smile, even as she rolls her eyes. She’s just about to send him something appropriately sarcastic when another text notification slides in. It’s from her father. 

Hi Annabeth… I was talking to a friend in Boston who said he's looking for a new 

prospective in his architecture firm. Passed your information along. 

Love you, dear

She swipes it away. Deletes the whole text conversation, for good measure. 

Forget about him. This night is about Percy.

A few minutes later, so engrossed in Percy’s program bio (it’s about all she can focus on right now), she doesn’t even notice everyone around her leaning forward in breathless anticipation, until the warm, honey-like sound of the oboe draws her head up. 

Roughly two minutes in, she’s really wishing she had attempted the synopsis. The extent of her knowledge of Swan Lake is a few half-remembered orchestra rehearsals in her teens and reading the Wikipedia article on that Natalie Portman movie a few months ago, and she definitely doesn’t recall there being anything about any Men-in-Tights looking motherfuckers prancing around. They’re sort of bobbing, back and forth, elegantly stepping from one side of the stage to another. Even from back here, she can see the delicate, precise placement of their hands, fingers curved just so, moving through space as though they aren’t bound by the laws of physics.

The fingers, she remembers. She could never get the hang of the fingers. Her old ballet teacher had given up on them after a week, and that had been the beginning of the end for that particular extracurricular. 

Now her fingers tap on her jeans, impatient, far faster than the easy going music on stage. She’s just about to give in to the millennial instinct and pull out her phone, maybe play a round of sudoku, when the dancers motion as one to the back corner, and Percy comes stepping out. His hair is perfectly slicked back, gelled down, any hint of curl beaten into submission, and his smile is small, but white, gleaming against the tanned brown of his skin. She can’t help but smile back, like he could somehow see her. Finally, she thinks, relaxing a little more into her seat. Something to watch.

On his off days, her off days, any day when she would spent the night at his (always at his, never at hers) and wake up wrapped in his comforter and the smell of seawater, she would take the blanket with her and steal into his living room, curl up on his couch with her feet tucked under her legs, and watch him dance. She’s seen him drill these sequences over, and over, and over again, counting furious sequences of sixes and eights beneath his breath in duet with the thuds of his feet on his floor. Most times he would notice her and shoot her a grin, granting her permission to observe the artist at work. Sometimes, though, he would be so caught up in his body, the shifting of his feet and the music in his head, that it was like he couldn’t see her at all. Seemingly alone, he would dance, uninhibited, and she would be struck by a feeling that she usually reserves for specific monuments. Watching Percy dance in his apartment, in his brown tights and black tank top, lost in his own world, is like looking at pictures of the Gateway Arch, or the Hoover Dam, or the Parthenon.

She searches for that feeling now, leaning forward in her seat, eyes hungrily raving his form, but she just doesn’t see it. It’s… honestly, it’s a little boring. She won’t lie. He had warned her it would be something of a slow start, but this isn’t exactly an ADHD friendly medium, and she is losing her patience, just a bit. He’s so reserved, like he’s holding something close to his chest, impersonal as he takes the hands of the female dancers and lets them twirl around him. 

Personally, Annabeth thinks that he looks kind of lost. Maybe he’s just nervous--it’s a big role and he’s a young guy. But he had seemed fine when he’d kissed her goodbye just after lunch. 

The court jester is killing it though. Feeling just the slightest bit guilty, she lets her eyes drift over to him, deciding to watch him for a while instead.

On some level, she does appreciate the skill on display here. Percy can raise his back leg in a perfect ninety degree angle that would make her architecture professors sweat. The girls drift back and forth across the stage on the tips of their toes, weightless and ethereal. It’s mesmerizing, and she lets herself be mesmerized.

Time must slip away from her, because she blinks and all of a sudden the stage has gone from sunny yellow to cool blue, the crowds of dancers having vanished. He is alone on stage. Percy kneels in a deep lunge that makes her thighs ache just looking at him (and for… other reasons), his arms and his attention pointed to the wings, with a… Annabeth squints. When the hell did he get a crossbow?

But everything is swept to the sides when the White Swan tiptoes her way on stage, impossibly graceful, and all of a sudden, Annabeth gets it. 

It feels a little cliche to say, but the way that woman moves on the floor really does remind her of those old, vintage jewelry boxes, suspended in animation, moved by some otherworldly force. It’s amazing. It’s a little terrifying. Sublime is the word that comes to mind as Annabeth watches her. Her arms move with fluidity, perfect curves, her fingers trailing behind her like wings. 

And Percy is just as mesmerized as Annabeth is. As the audience is. 

A few things hit her, in rapid succession. First, that Percy is, actually, a really good actor. His reticence before--he’d been playing a character. He’d been playing aloof and reserved and unmoored, because Percy--Siegfried--whatever--has been waiting his whole life for something to fulfill him, until this singular moment, the moment he laid eyes on this beautiful creature. Second, that she doesn’t need words to understand what’s going on. It’s all there, in every look and gesture and step, as the two characters circle each other, slowly but irrevocably falling in love. And third, that she recognizes the look on his face. It’s the look that Percy gives her when she has been talking for too long and he can’t get a word in edgewise, or when she screams along to the god awful underground bands, three beers in and missing every single fuck she’d ever had, or when she wakes up after him to Percy’s arms around her waist, her hair in his mouth and her head resting against his collarbone. She recognizes it, because that’s the look that Siegfried has for Odette. Because that’s the look that Percy has for Annabeth. Because he loves her.

And fourth, that that doesn’t make her as happy as she wishes it would. 

There’s a cold pit in her stomach for the rest of the show, a turning screw that twists in deeper, minute by minute, with every turn of the dancers. She wastes the next hour trying to puzzle this out, not even pretending to watch the drama unfolding on stage, because it makes no goddamn sense. (Her situation, not the ballet--she managed to skim the synopsis during intermission, her foot tapping incessantly against the blessedly empty seat in front of her.) Things are great between them. It’s been a heady, intoxicating four months, full of bubbles and butterflies, sweet, soft mornings, and some really, really phenomenal sex. This should make her happy. This should put her over the fucking moon, and she cannot, for the life of her, figure out why it doesn’t.

The prima ballerina comes back out as the Black Swan, just as poised and precise as her counterpart, but she’s a great actress as well, because there is something undeniably different about her. Her arms move like rubber, like joints are just an afterthought, wrapping themselves around Percy’s neck and shoulders. She misdirects his attention, drawing his eyes to her wrists, her clavicle, the curve of a leg or the point of her toe. Seducing him. Tricking him. 

Like Annabeth. 

Because try as she might to run from it, Annabeth isn’t who she says she is. She wants so desperately to be this fuck-the-rules, fight-the-power, punk rock princess that she took every part of her that didn’t fit that image and tried to rip it out of her, bloody and struggling. Her trust fund, her two (two!) Harvard degrees, her enriched childhood and her bright and shining future; she took it all out back and shot it, and prayed that would be the end of it. She’s a phony, just like that goddamn Black Swan. Percy is in love with a phony. 

Her sweet, wonderful, devastatingly kind and handsome Percy--she tricked him and made him fall in love with a mishmash of archetypes and aesthetics, distracting him with nose piercings and ripped t-shirts and ugly, deafening noise. 

She’s not surprised that she’s crying when the curtain falls. She’d never known that Siegfried and Odette both died at the end. 

When the cast reunites for curtain call, Percy is given a standing ovation, and Annabeth enthusiastically joins in, wiping the tears from her eyes, smearing her makeup. 

She doesn’t wait for him at the stage door, but sits on the steps of the theater, plucking at her sleeves, aching for a drink and wishing she had had the presence of mind to wear something a little nicer. Percy finds her there almost an hour after the show ended. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

In the dark of night, illuminated only by streetlamps, she can’t read his face--but she can read exhaustion, in every part of his body. “I was waiting for you by the stage door.”

Something in her stomach goes cold. “I… wasn’t sure if I was allowed,” she offers, weakly. 

He smiles, a light in the dark. “Of course you’re allowed,” he says, offering her a hand. “Shall we?”

She knows what will happen next. She’ll take his hand, and they’ll walk to the subway together, fingers intertwined. They’ll get on the 1 train headed north, and Percy will let her rest her head against him, tilting his head back against the window, eyes closed, almost asleep. The doorman will nod at them as they walk up to Nico’s apartment, barely batting an eye at his sweats and her ripped jeans, the two of them sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of impeccably dressed rich New Yorkers. Nico will wave at them distractedly from his office, gulping down his sixth coffee of the night, and they’ll tiptoe into his room, falling asleep in each other’s arms with little more than a good night kiss. 

Which, of course, is exactly what does end up happening.

Almost. 

Annabeth crawls on top of him in his bed, kissing him soft and senseless. She doesn’t know where he’s getting this energy from, but she is not complaining as he slips up inside of her, the two of them rocking each other gently to orgasm, their foreheads pressed together. Shuddering as he comes, he captures her mouth in another kiss, pouring every ounce of love he has in him into her.

A waste, honestly. 

But as far as goodbye sex, it’s pretty damn great. 

She needs to end this, before either of them get hurt. It’s the least of what he deserves, after all. To put yourself out there, to offer yourself up like that, that might be the bravest thing Annabeth’s ever heard of, and surely, Annabeth can find the courage to do what needs to be done.

[visionsofus]

angsty 29 please? :)

Hi anon! thank you for requesting some angst, I love writing it ☺️

I've done a longer sick fic and an injured fic too but I think it's about time I write another. Hmm, if anyone wants to send a more detailed sick fic prompt I'd be more than happy to provide the angst.

Also just while thinking about this prompt I had an idea for an ‘emergency contact’ fic but Wanda’s on the run and hasn’t seen Vis in a year? She gets into an accident and Vision arrives at the hospital all frantic? Maybe I could write that too.

29. How do they handle disasters or emergencies? Minor injuries? Sickness?

For now, a disaster fic in which the compound is victim of a cyber attack, Vision goes up against it and gets in trouble.

For a second Wanda thought that maybe the power had simply gone out, it was a plausible enough explanation for all the lights suddenly shutting off. But the compound was powered by arc reactors and Wanda knew enough about them to understand they wouldn’t be affected by a power outage.

“Friday?” Wanda called out to the air, suddenly feeling far more alone with the lights out. Tony’s AI did not respond.

Familiar enough with the layout of her room and relying on a shaft of moonlight from the open window, Wanda made it to her door and opened it.

Down the corridor she heard Sam’s door open and a distinct “What the fuck?” emerge. Wanda used the wall to reach him, touching his shoulder once she was near enough.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea,” Wanda said and was just able to make out Sam fishing his phone from his jeans.

The screen should have lit up, but it didn’t. “It was fully charged,’ Sam said, confused. Wanda didn’t know what that meant but it certainly couldn’t be good. She raised a hand and summoned forth a ball of red energy, it cast a distorted red haze across the walls around them but was better than nothing.

Walking slowly, they made it down the stairs and into the living room to find that someone had lit some candles where their teammates had gathered together. Tony had a tablet in front of him, but its screen was dark just like Sam’s phone. Everyone was murmuring in concern, looking to Tony for direction.

“—this shouldn’t be happening, even I can’t hack our system, the firewalls are too tight—” Tony was speaking quickly and not acknowledging the concerned whispers of his friends, all attention directed at Vision.

Wanda released her powers and went to Vision’s side instantly. His posture was tight enough for Wanda to tell he was in some sort of pain. It took all her control not to take his hand and syphon that pain off onto herself.

“This is not generic hacking, it’s a targeted cyber-attack.”

Tony stood immediately, a new urgency about his face. Wanda had never seen him look startled, let alone scared. “Vision you have to cut yourself off now!”

But whatever risk Tony’s foresight had identified, it was too late. Vision went rigid and Wanda cried out in panic as she watched him fall to his knees, shoulders trembling as though under a great, invisible weight.

She didn’t hesitate now and threw herself to the floor beside him, both hands on his cheeks. “Vision!”

Every muscle appeared to have pulled taught and his vibranium turned to stone in response to whatever was going on within his mind. Wanda watched on in horror as Vision’s eyes went wide and then blank. Never before had she looked into the synthezoid’s eyes and not recognised him. The blue had gone cold and unwelcoming and it sent a chill down Wanda’s spine.

“Maximoff, get away from him,” Tony said urgently, gesturing for the rest of the team to back away “If they’ve compromised him, they can control him.”

“Bruce, how’s the back-up generator?” Tony cried into a radio.

Bruce Banner’s voice crackled over in response, “Almost done.”

“Wanda, please,” Nat said stepping forward and putting a hand on Wanda’s shoulder to draw her away. She shook it off in frustration and moved her hands higher, placing them at Vision’s temple.

Wanda had delved into Vision’s mind before but only with his permission. Her first few months at the compound, when her nightmares were particularly bad, a touch of the hand from Vision and he’d invite her into his tranquil brain to deter her terror. Occasionally, Vision preferred to use the telepathy rather than speaking aloud, he found it particularly useful when he couldn’t find the words to vocalise a certain feeling. Never before had Wanda been forced to intrude in this way. But as she pressed forward, she found little resistance.

In the real-world Wanda gasped, winded as she was abruptly dragged into Vision’s mind. He pulled her in desperately, only conscious enough to recognise her familiarity.

In her mind’s eye Wanda was in a small, cramped room. There was a window set into one wall with rain streaming down it, though she wasn’t sure how that was possible. Far above she heard the crackle of thunder and further away what might have been a fire alarm. Vision was tucked up on an old armchair, his head tilted to the side and his eyes closed. For a second Wanda’s heart stopped — but no there it was, the tell-tale rise and fall of his chest.

She reached his side instantaneously, her body not fully present. As she did, Vision’s eyes opened, at first panic stricken but relaxing when he saw her.

“Wanda, darling,” Vision said, holding a hand out for her. But Wanda wasn’t really there, and so couldn’t take it.

“Vision, we have to go, you need to wake up,” Wanda said desperately, not sure if she was thinking it or speaking aloud.

In the distance she heard Tony’s voice, but could barely make out what he was saying. You need to get him to go offline, Wanda.

In the seconds that it took her to divert her attention to Tony, she lost her grip with Vision. The space shifted around them and suddenly they were in another room. For a moment she didn’t recognise where they were, after all, she had only been in Avenger’s tower once, two years earlier. The room was frayed round the edges, like it had slipped Vision’s mind, but the centre scene was clear as it had been the night he was created.

Vision stood before his cradle.

“Vision?” Wanda asked hesitantly moving forward. “What’s going on?”

She recalled Tony’s warning.

“You have to go offline,” she said, hoping Vision would know what that meant.

“I cannot.” Vision’s voice echoed when he spoke, as though it were coming from all around her. “I cannot.”

“Why not?” Wanda asked, reaching out to touch him. Forgetting that she had no hand, that she was merely a presence within his head.

“I disconnect myself then that’s it…” Vision’s voice was growing quieter, and beyond it a loud alarm could be heard. “I am of no use without my mind.”

“That’s not true, Vision,” Wanda pleaded.

“Hurry up Maximoff!” Tony sounded fearful.

“Vision, please, switch it off!”

“I am nothing without this.” Vision looked intently at the cradle.

“You are not nothing!” Wanda yelled, her voice almost drowned out by the chorus of alarms now echoing in her head, uncertain if they were from the real world or a product of Vision’s mind. “You are you, even without a direct line to every piece of knowledge known to humanity!”

Certain that her words weren’t having an effect, Wanda reached deeper, beyond words and followed Vision’s example. She let him into her head. Dragged him into the intimate depths where she kept her fondest memories, guarded beyond steel walls so they might never be taken from her. She let him feel how she felt, let him see his friendships with their teammates from her perspective, she let him see exactly how extraordinary she thought him. And for added measure she let him taste the smallest touch of grief she might feel if he was ever taken from her.

Vision in the Avenger’s tower staggered towards the cradle even as Wanda was thrown from his mind. The last thing she saw was him gripping the power source of the cradle and ripping it out.

Back in the physical realm Wanda’s eyes locked on Vision’s, which were familiar once more. There were voices roiling around them as Tony talked about damage control and what they might have lost, but the lights were coming back on and Vision was here, so Wanda drowned it all out.

“It’s so quiet,” Vision whispered, his eyes were unfocused, “so, so quiet.”

“What do I do?” He whispered fearfully.

Wanda was ready when Vision fell forward, catching his shoulders and letting him lean against her. She caressed the back of his head comfortingly. “You’re ok, you’re here,” she whispered as he clung to her. “You’re safe, I’m here.”

I'm so sorry if this sucked I think I've lost all my words recently

(ask me a prompt from this list and I'll give you a drabble - we'll ignore that this was longer than your typical drabble)

[stan-joonies]

I'm Seeing Double!

You were DONE with the Cullens, absolutely done!

You had come back from vacation to see Bella in a comatose state, wasting away. She wasn't eating or drinking or talking or laughing or anything! She was there but not at the same time.

It felt like the world was ending when she spoke to you and told you everything. They were vampires, they drank animal blood, they moved every few years. It was like an uncontrollable flood pouring out of her mouth. She had regretted it instantly, she had broken the Cullen's trust in her, but she couldn't hold it in and part of her knew she gave you the information to spite them.

[[MORE]]

You made sure to stay by her side, not leaving unless neccesary. Then Jacob came and you swore a little flame returned in her eyes, but as quickly as it appeared it was snuffed out by Alice Cullen.

You watched as all the progress you made got sucked up by a drain. Now Bella deluded herself into saving the piece of shit that left her in the first place.

They were embracing from their place near the window, you being shrouded in shadows in an attempt to hide yourself. Though your hatred for the Cullen's, especially Edward, boiled from every blood vessel in your body, you had enough manners to let them have this moment, especially after you saw Bella's absolute panic without him.

However, Edward broke the embrace first and it made you want to hit him, though it would cause you more harm.

Two men seemed to materialise out from the shadows, walking side-by-side, their arms brushing against eachother intimately.

"Looks like we wont be needing your services after all, gentlemen," Edward dismissed, looking up at the largest one.

Suddenly, you felt overwhelming sense to jump out of the shadows and make yourself known to the two Volturi members. You wanted them to know who you are and why you were here.

"Aro wants to speak with you again," the tallest one ordered and you felt your body jolt with electricity.

This Vampire's voice was deep and soothing like a base. It echoed through her entire body and made her relax against the cold wall.

Edward sighed, glancing at Bella.

"No rules were broken," he assured and you had to give credit for his respectful address.

"Alass, we should take this conversation to a more appropriate venue," the blonde ordered, both vampires taking a threatening step forward and Edward quickly shielded Bella.

Your heart clenched when he spoke, your cheeks flushing beautifully. His voice was...it just was. Everything about it made you want to reveal yourself and talk to him, fishing more words out his mouth.

You almost hit yourselves, these Vampires looked at Bella like a meal, ready to pounce on her. However, when Edward tried to dismiss her with a quick glance in your direction, they both smirked.

"The girl comes with us,"

Your body froze, yes. These vampires were evil, they wanted to kill Bella. They drank from humans. They...they...

You began making a mental list of all the things wrong with the Volturi, everything Bella told you they did and their history.

Suddenly, the door was broken and Alice slid in, a smile on her face.

"Oh, come on guys!" She laughed but their was a clear edge that everyone could sense.

You were about to step out of where you were hiding, content in the two vs two odds when Alice suddenly boomed.

"No! Don't!"

You halted your movements, almost certain she was speaking to you.

The volturi members glanced at eachother before scowling at the woman.

"Oops! My bad, i can't decifer visions from reality it seems," Alice apologised, attempting to laugh it off.

" do tell," Demetri ordered, raising an eyebrow.

"Bella was going to put the milk in first," she quickly dismissed, going to Bella's side, and coincidentally putting her body between you and the two vampires.

"Enough!" A shrill voice cut through the tension, a smaller woman quickly making her way between the two, almost making you want to rip her away.

"Jane," Edward greeted, looking down to his feet. Fear seemed to flow in the air in thick waves.

"Aro sent me to see what was taking so long," Jane scowled, looking at her two accomplices. Without another word she turned, confident enough in herself to know they would follow.

The vegetarians looked between eachother, glancing at me.

"Follow behind," Alice mouthed, quickly following after Jane.

You did as ordered, sticking to the shadows and making sure you were a good distance away.

Then you reached the destination, narrowly avoiding getting locked out of the room.

You stuck to the walls, trying to regulate your breathing.

You knew these vampires from your sister's stories and chills ran up your spine. They all looked so intimidating and important that you wanted to bow your head to them. However, one creeped you out the most.

He had red eyes and long, ink black hair. If it wasn't for the light twitch on his mouth he would've looked like a dead corpse. However, what creeped her out the most was that he kept glancing in your direction, as if he knew you were there.

"Felix," you jolted out of your thoughts, eyes wide when you saw the large brute from earlier stalk towards Bella's smaller frame. His fists clenched, ready to tear her apart.

"No!" You were pushed into action, sprinting out of the shadows and curling around Bella.

"Y/N!" Alice exclaimed, running towards them, her attempts blocked by the blonde from earlier.

You blocked out all sound and tried to detach yourself from reality, a stupid attempt to make any pain coming your way less. You pulled yourselves and Bella to the floor and waited for large hands to rip your limbs apart.

A delicate tap on your shoulder alerted you that you were still alive, reluctantly, you rose your head shocked to see Alice free from the blonde's hands and smiling lightly down at you, though regret polluted her irises.

It was then that you realised Felix was on the other side of the room, crouched down with strong marble cracking underneath him and his skin slowly piecing back together. The blonde was at his side.

"How marvellous!" Aro exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Who might this be?" His red eyes burned you to your core and you quickly looked away.

"Y/N Swan," you muttered.

"What an interesting specimen. A forcefield strong enough to blast back a vampire,"

"Who are you?" You asked, looking towards a tiny girl.

"I'm Alice Cullen, nice to meet you, Y/N," she smiled lightly. When she went for a hug, you watched her tense. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

"I--i can't...smell you." She went quiet for a minute. "I can't hear your heartbeat." She placed her hand where your heart would be, humming when she felt the clear thumb or your heart. "How odd,"

You didn't think this ability would be physical too!

Marcus spoke up then, making you jump in surprise.

"The interesting specimen will become very familiar with these walls soon, Aro." Marcus glanced at her. "It seems Demetri and Felix have their own personal human,"

Your eyes widened and Alice snarled slightly.

You looked towards the vampires, both now standing and looking towards you. When you met eyes with the both of them, something inside you snapped violently and you jolted in response.

They were near you in seconds, a couple metres away, the apprehension almost laughable since you were dwarfed by their stature and place on the floor .

"Edward, what are they doing? Edward?"

Said vampire cradled the panicked human in his arms, shushing her gently.

"G-get away from her! L-leave her alone!" She writhed in a vain attempt to escape his embrace.

The two Vampire's ignored her, slowly moving closer and closer.

"Put the shield up!" Bella screeched. "Hurry!"

But her screams were like static and you could only focus on the red eyes inching closer to your face.

Finally, two different hands landed on both your cheeks, caressing them gently.

"Mi Cara," they both whispered gently and all tension ran down your back and soaked into the floor, leaving you to go limp, your eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Felix caught you, raising to his full height and cocooned you in his arms.

"What did you do! Let her go you monsters!"

Demetri snarled at them, red eyes burning Isabella into submission.

"It seems she has been overwhelmed, return to your rooms, Gentlemen, your services are no longer needed as of now." Aro dismissed.

"Give her back! Leave her alone! Don't--"

The doors shut.

-

You woke up later into the night, your brain pounding against your skull. The soft covers were cold and comforting against your hot skin.

"You're awake," you startled, looking to the corners to see two pairs of beady eyes looking down at you.

"Where am i?"

"In your new room," Demetri smiled slightly, sitting on the bed.

"No...That's not right. Where is Bella staying? Is she ok? She isn't hurt right?"

"The human has returned safely back to forks, mi cara," Felix assured, running a cold hand through your hair.

"Why am i here then?"

"My love," Felix smirked. "You're here because it's where you belong. With us,"

"With you?"

"Always, Mi Cara,"

[yeojaa]

take me down.

i literally cannot write things without there being pining.  i cannot.  i wish i were sorry.  ty for sending this prompt in for my milestone drabbles!  💖

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  is...  pine its own category?  because this is a goddamn forest of it.  wc.  1k.

“I’m not here to tell you how to live your life but—”  It’s something just short of amusement, edges of humour cut off by a serrated edge.  There’s a battle between being too fucking tired for this and don’t be an asshole waging within his sleep-deprived skull.  “—you’re blocking the entrance.”

Maybe it’s his fault for having stayed up too late - no, it certainly was - but he needs his damn coffee and croissant now.  Needs it just like he needs air or a certain person to move or—

“Oh?  Sorry.”  

He’s not expecting the face that turns toward him, apologetic and gut wrenchingly perfect.  It’s one he’s intimately familiar with, all pouty lips and a wide stare framed by meticulously applied glitter - eyes he’s seen in both his dreams and his nightmares.

You’re even prettier than he remembers.  

Expression falters as recognition crowds your expression.  A brow quirks, ticks high over artificial blues, and Jungkook’s not sure whether he should laugh or throw himself directly into oncoming traffic.  Neither option is that appealing, honestly.  One seems like it’ll have his poor body broken to pieces;  the other his heart.  

He loathes the fact that there isn’t a third, better choice that might save him from the misery of either.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  It tips off your tongue, brightly lit like a birthday sparkler.  It fills all of the spaces between you and it feels like fireworks in his chest, exciting and a tiny bit scary.  There’s no chance of escaping you now - not that there ever was.  

You had him like a fish on a line, sight of your smile better bait than any worm.

It’s why he’s still standing there, anchored to the spot under the broken morning sky, caffeine still starkly lacking in his life.  Features collapse, shift and reassemble, and he hopes that maybe he’s managed to scrub the look of what the fuck off his face.  

By the way you stare at him, he knows he hasn’t.  He’s sure it’s there - red pen over faded parchment.  

“I thought you’d died.”  You speak with a laugh - the sound caressing each syllable.  It brings him back to just over a month ago and nearly every night before that.  Strange how it returns so easily, welcomed back to the unmade bed in his heart.  The sheets still smell of you - lavender and cocoa butter.

There’s something decidedly reserved about how he speaks, refuses to look up as he extracts bills from monogrammed leather and readies himself to push past.  It won’t happen.  He pretends anyway.  “No, still alive.”  

“You wouldn’t think so, since you didn’t answer any of my calls.”  

Is he imagining the spite?  He has to be.  You’d always made it very clear you weren’t looking for anything serious;  he’d been the one to stare dumbly at the warning signs, passing right under yellow tape and red flags like he couldn’t tell they were there.

“I got busy.”  It’s not necessarily a lie.  You wouldn’t know the difference.  It wasn’t like you were keeping tabs on him anyway.

You laugh, again, so prettily.  He has to make a conscious effort not to let the sound get stuck in his ears.  It’d be so easy to let it live there - a siren song he’d never turn off.  “Busy avoiding me?”

Okay, so maybe you were keeping tabs on him.  But even thinking that feels strange, wrong - like he’s painting pictures in his head.  He hates being stuck in there, surrounded by maybes and what ifs.  All things he most definitely should not be entertaining but that he allows anyway, words carved into corners and on tabletops like schoolyard crushes. 

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”  God, he’s a bad liar.  He sounds like a six year old that’s just hit his sister and then pretended like he hadn’t.  The truth glares out of him, spills over in shades of red that colour his ears and cheeks.

“Could’ve fooled me,”  you hum.

It doesn’t occur to him that he’s now blocking the entryway to the coffee shop.  He barely pays attention to the patrons that sneak around him, everyone too intrigued by the strange stand-off between the two of you to tear you from it.  

Buy a coffee, get a show.  You’re welcome, Starbucks.

“Am I supposed to say sorry?”  How it comes is strange, a heady blend of confused and frustrated.  It’s softened just enough by the furrowing of his brow to not end the conversation.

“I’m not looking for an apology.”  

“Then what do you want?”  It comes fast, a bullet in the dark.  He has to remind himself that this isn’t how it always was and this isn’t how you always were.  You’d been a friend once - a sunbeam or a prayer, something to be cherished and adored but never caged.

Jungkook had been the one to try to change that - to try to catch you and make you his.  

You’d bitten off his head and rightfully so.  Unfortunately, he was still licking his wounds.

“I want to be friends, Kookie.”  There’s no judgment there, no roughened edges or petulant grit.  You’re utterly unaffected but effortlessly kind, meeting his stare with honeyed sweetness.  It’d feel bad if he took even a minute to think with his head and not his chest.  “We can be friends, yeah?”  

He knows you can’t - just like he knows the sky is blue and your laugh is his favourite sound and he’d like to spend the rest of his days mapping the constellations of freckles on your skin.  

"No - because I don't know how to think when you're around."

It’s a confession that’s offered like sin, an apology and an explanation all at once.  He hopes you understand.

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Somebody Else-G.M

“Could you please do something with George based around the song somebody else by the 1975 but with a happy ending?”

Pairing: George Memeulous x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k+

__________

 George had just finished filming a new video, it wasn't anything special, it was just a new Reddit video. Lately, his Reddit had been filled with beardless James memes. George had been trying to get the meme killed.

 George hadn't eaten anything yet, he slept in until around 11 am, the proceeded to roll out of bed and film a video. It was around 12:30 by the time he had finished up wrapping up his video. Luckily he'd be able to make something and call it brunch.

 "I mean, he looks okay, I really don't have much to say on his personality since I haven't met him," Alex's voice could be heard in the living room, he was talking about someone. George froze, listening to his roommate. Who was he talking about?

 "The bloke better treat Y/n right or I'll have a problem with him," Another voice was heard. Will was here? When did he get here? What was going on with Y/n?

 So I heard you found somebody else

 At this point, George was filled with questions. Why were his friends talking about his ex? Y/n and George had dated for a couple of months, recently they had just broken up. At first, the relationship was perfect, but it began to fizzle out. George was becoming more and more stressed out every day and Y/n didn't help. She would constantly ask him what was going on with him, meanwhile George would close up more and more she asked.

 Fighting became more and more normal for him and Y/n. It had quickly become too much, and one huge fight was what finally made them split. George still could remember seeing tears streaming down Y/n' s face as she screamed at him. 

  And at first I thought it was a lie

  Without thinking, George walked out of the hallway, into the living room. "Good afternoon, when did you get here Will?"

 "Oh, hey mate. I just was gonna start filming a video with Alex in a few moments," Will gave a shrug. George only gave a nod, walking into the kitchen connected to the living room.

 "Y/n's moved on?"

 Alex and Will stared at each other, George heard them speaking about his ex.

 Alex bit his lip, "Well she's just started talking to this new guy, he isn't anything special."

 George let out a quiet scoff, Alex was most likely saying that only to make him feel better.

 "Oh, that's good," George replied. He had pulled a bowl out of the pantry along with a box of Cheerios.

 Soon enough as George sat down at the Island of the kitchen with his cereal, his mind began to wander. He began to think of the time he had gone by Y/n's flat to collect some of his belongings.

  I took all my things that make sounds

 When Y/n had opened the door, she didn't even bother to look at him. She only stepped to the side, keeping her eyes to the ground as George entered the apartment. It looked like since he left Y/n hadn't been cleaning up after herself as she use to, which was surprising. She was usually a neat person, she'd even clean up around his and Alex's flat when she'd come over.

 There were barely any words that were spoken to each other at the moment. Y/n already had a box set on the kitchen counter filled with most of his belongings, George didn't want to have to come around again and have another awkward moment with Y/n, so he had asked if he could have a look around and make sure she hadn't missed anything. Of course, Y/n had obliged and George got the chance to have one final look around the flat. 

 The rest I can do without

 George had spotted an old hoodie of his in Y/n's closet when he had a chance to take a quick glance into her bedroom for any of his belongings. Instead of taking it, he had left it. George was never really sure why he had done this, but something in him told him to leave it.

 Something didn't sit right with George when it came to the thought that Y/n was with somebody else. Maybe it was because he hadn't found someone before her. Maybe it was because he could still remember her yelling at him; "There's plenty of more fish in the sea, Somebody can easily take your place." Yes, the words were harsh but that didn't mean Y/n wasn't speaking the truth. 

 But I hate to think about you with somebody else

 George's heart ached. He hadn't really spent much time dwelling on the breakup. As soon as he became a single man once again, he tried to avoid thinking about dating and Y/n. He just wanted to waste time away playing FIFA with his friends and doing YouTube things. 

 It finally clicked for George how bad the breakup actually was. George had made Y/n cry. What the fuck was wrong with him?

 "You need to get off my fucking ass, Y/n! I can't get a chance to think with you breathing down my fucking neck!" George yelled, he had begun to stomp around Y/n's flat. He was obviously in a mood that night, but that didn't keep Y/n from trying to comfort him and try to get him to open up about what had been upsetting him. 

 "Well, I'm sorry I want to know what's upsetting my boyfriend," Y/n snapped, wrapping her arms around herself.

 "Nothing is fucking wrong, you're just being annoying as hell," George had responded, he hadn't bothered to lower his voice.

 "Being concerned over how my boyfriend is feeling is annoying to you, George?" Y/n bit her lip. What was she doing wrong? Should she just not care about how George was feeling? Why did he suddenly turn it all on her and make her the bad guy?

 "You don't understand that I'm fucking fine! Every time I try to talk to you, you always question me about something upsetting me when I'm clearly fine!" George approached Y/n. She had been sitting on the couch, making George much taller than her. He loomed over her making Y/n feel quite vulnerable.

 George shook his head, no wonder he didn't like to dwell on those memories. He acted like such a dick to her. 

 Our love has gone cold

 Blinding Lights was being blasted on speakers as George entered the building. He and a couple of other friends had been invited out to a party. At first he wasn't going to go, but with Becky finally convincing him, he caved in.

 The party was like any other, couples were making out in the corner of rooms, red solo cups were scattered everywhere, every room was crowded, a beer pong table had been set up in the backyard, and of course the air held a stench of strong alcohol. George already knew there was no chance he was gonna stay here for any longer than an hour. This just wasn't his type of crowd.

 You're intertwining your soul with somebody else

 As the Dj continued to blare popular music, George began to make laps around the house, looking for anyone familiar to talk to. The group of friends he had come to the party with had scattered, maybe he shouldn't have caved in to Becky convincing him to come along.

 Finally, George spotted a familiar face. But there was no chance in hell he'd try talking to them. Y/n stood in the corner of the living room. The room was dim, so the light of her phone had illuminated her face in a beautiful type of way. George couldn't help but stare, it had been a good amount of time since he had last seen Y/n in person.

 I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone

  It hadn't taken long before a tall brunette had appeared by her side. George didn't recognize him, maybe he was the new boy toy Y/n had started talking to. Y/n smiled up at the guy as he wrapped an arm around her waist. George bit his lip as he continued to watch his ex, something about what he was seeing was deeply upsetting him. 

 As Y/n put her phone into her back pocket, she and the boy-toy began to walk off. Luckily, she hadn't spotted George. After the couple disappeared from George's sight, George began to make his way to the nearest exit. He had enough partying for one night.

 And then leaving with somebody else

 George laid in bed. It was late. When he had gotten home he tried to be as quiet as possible to try and not to wake Alex, and here he was now, lying in his bed as he stared at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep, something was on his mind. Someone was on his mind. Y/n was on his mind. 

 Just the thought of Y/n dating that random douchebag was upsetting George. The thought of the boy toy being on top of her as they shared an intimate moment was disgusting to George. How could Y/n ever have interest in someone like that? 

 No, I don't want your body

 The boy-toy seemed so touchy when it came to Y/n, maybe he was the complete opposite of George. Maybe the boy-toy had only taken interest in Y/n for her body? Yes, Y/n was gorgeous, George could easily admit it. But George never was the type to date a girl for her body, and that certainly didn't change when he started to date Y/n. 

 New thoughts began to fly into George's mind. Thoughts of Y/n being under the boy-toy in bed. Thoughts of Y/n moaning because of the boy-toy. Thoughts of the boy-toy touching Y/n like he use to.

 But I'm picturing your body with somebody else

 George became bitter. He felt disgusted by the thought of Y/n being intimate with another man. If George had to be honest, he did miss the intimate moments between him and Y/n. But he didn't miss Y/n just because of her body.

 Even though their relationship was over, It didn't mean they wouldn't see each other. Y/n was a YouTuber, so of course she'd hang out with the rest of George's friends. 

 George let out a sigh, why did he have to be such an idiot? He let his emotions get the best of him and let his anger out on Y/n. 

 Come on baby

 The night they had broken up, they had gotten into a huge argument. Both of them had begun to scream at one another, Y/n started to cry. Memories of seeing tears stream down her face filled George's mind. He cringed at the thought.  George could remember Y/n screaming at him, "There's plenty of more people out there! Somebody can easily take your place!"

 George bit his lip, fighting back tears as he buried his head into his pillow. He refused to cry over her. Not when she moved on so quickly. 

 This ain't the last time that I'll see your face

 Mia had moved into a new apartment recently and had decided to throw a small get together for her friends to celebrate. Of course George had been invited over. There wasn't any reason for George not to go, so he soon enough found himself in the small living room belonging to Mia.

 George had spent most of the time talking to Will and James and hanging around Alex. More and more guests filled into the apartment, it wasn't long before George's attention had been caught on the h/c girl entering the home.

 Y/n had been invited over.

 Come on baby

 Something heavy dropped into George's stomach as he saw her step through the door. She was gorgeous, did she get dressed up or was she just naturally this beautiful and George never took a moment to notice?

 As Y/n entered the home, she closed the door behind her, showing no sign of her boy-toy. Maybe he decided to stay home? Or was he not invited? They could've broken up, but it had only been a day or two since George had spotted them together at the house party.

 You said you'd find someone to take my place

 "You should go talk to her, mate."

 George flinched at the voice. He was so lost in his thoughts he hadn't noticed that Will approached him.

 "I don't think that's a good idea, we haven't talked since... I took my stuff from her place," George shook her head.

 "You miss her, don't you?" 

 "I do," George shook his head, releasing a small sigh.

 "Then go talk to her."

  "Hey Y/n."

 Y/n looked over her shoulder to see the one and only George. Something dropped in her stomach, but she kept her smile.

 I just don't believe that you have got it in you 'cause

 "What's up, George?"

 "Not much, what's been up with you?"

 We are just gonna keep 'doin' it' and everytime

 "Do you think they'll get back together?" Alex walked over to his square-headed friend.

 "Definitely sooner than later," Will nodded, keeping his eyes on the duo across the room. Y/n and George were standing in the corner of the room, for the last hour they had just been talking. No one had bothered to join the conversation going on between them. They both seemed happy, which was good to see.

 I start to believe in anything you're saying

 Words left George's mouth, only making Y/n let out a laugh. George began to laugh as well, he placed a hand on Y/n's waist and pulled her closer.

 "Maybe they'll just cut to the chase and bang tonight," Will let out a chuckle as he took a sip from his glass.

 "Don't say that. If I have to go home to hear George's headboard hitting the wall, I'm coming over to your place to spend the night," Alex groaned, shaking his head at the thought.

 I'm reminded that I should be getting over it

 "So have you gotten back into dating since we ended?" George casually asked, taking a sip from his glass.

 Y/n bit her lip, "There was this one guy. But he became to touchy so I blocked him."

 "I'm really sorry about that," George sighed. "That guy was a nonce."

 "It's fine, I guess," Y/n shrugged. The h/c girl checked her phone for a quick moment. "It's getting late, I think I'm gonna head home."

 "Oh, okay," George gave a small nod.

 "But do you think you could text me later? Maybe we can hang out some time, just one on one?" 

 "Yeah, of course," A smile appeared on the brunette's lips.

 I don't want your body

 The h/c girl began to head towards Mia to give her goodbyes, meanwhile George stood there with a ridiculous grin on his face.

 But I hate to think about you with somebody else

Taglist:

@daddydobrock​

@anyasthoughts​

@multifandom-but​

[softboywriting]

Welcome To The Pack | Mendes Triplets Series | Part Eleven | Peter’s Ending

Summary: You’re a human who has moved in with the Mendes triplets as their newest housemate. You’ll have to learn to navigate life with werewolves, college classes, and your feelings for each guy. [fluff] [peter’s ending] [biting] [light angst] [mates]

Word Count: 5.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

To say you fell in love with Peter when you met him would be an understatement. You think that in all that has happened in your time since moving in, you've always known. Peter is easy to love.  He's gentle, soft, always up for talking or sleeping together. You and him have had an unexplainable closeness since day one.

So the day that Peter comes to your room and asks you what you're doing on Saturday night, you aren't surprised. You've been waiting for him to ask you out. You know he's discussed it with Shawn and Raul, and they both know that he has it as bad for you as you do for him. Each boy has a place in your heart, but Peter's is just a bit bigger.

"Saturday is Shawn's game isn't it?" You ask, putting away the laundry you've folded on your bed.  

Peter walks in, grabbing some pants from the basket and helping. He always does this. He just falls into a natural rhythm with whatever you're doing. "Yeah, but that's at like six. I was wondering if you want to go out after the game?"

"Go out?"

"Mmhmm. Just us." He passes you a pair of underwear and socks. "I'll let you get those," he mumbles softly.  

You hold the underwear up and shake them out deliberately to get his attention. He never wants to help fold your underwear. Of course you can understand that they're obviously much more intimate than a pair of jeans or a sweater. But if he doesn't want to see them, or think about seeing you in them, he shouldn't help you fold your laundry.  

"Just us?" You smirk, eyeing him for a reaction. "Why not invite Raul and Shawn?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Because...."

Peter looks over at you and pushes up his glasses. His cheeks are pink with a blush and you know your teasing is getting to him. "Because it's a date."

"A date?" You giggle. "Peter Alexander Mendes, are you asking me on a date?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You don't sound sure."

Peter huffs softly.

"Do you not want to?"

"I do."

"Then say it confidently."

He eyes you. "You're teasing me about it aren't you?"

"I am."

"Stop it."

"No way." You sing song and catch his eye. Something changes in him at that moment and he tackles you, pushing you down on to your stomach so you're face down on the bed full of folded clothes. "Peter!"

"I'll show you not to tease me." Peter climbs over you and tickles your sides and you squirm, squealing under the weight of his body. He stops and pins your wrists down as you start to thrash about, kicking him and flailing your arms wildly. "Be still."

You go limp, body reacting to him naturally. Your heart races, and you feel the familiar warmth of arousal in your stomach. "Peter?"

"Yes?" He growls and you are sure you're going to melt.

"Why are you pinning me down?"

"I-" He releases your wrists and sits up, moving over so you can get up. "I just got a little out of control for a second." He runs a hand over his hair. "I'm sorry. You didn't say that was okay. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay. I liked it." You chew on your lip and look down, afraid to meet his gaze, sure he knows what he's done to you. "And I want to go out with you Saturday."

"You do?"

"Yes, now, can I finish my laundry?"

"Yeah." He scoops an arm full up into the basket. "Sorry I destroyed all the folded stuff."

You crawl off the bed and toss your underwear toward the basket, making them land on Peter's lap accidentally. "Maybe if you weren't so...rough...it wouldn't have happened."

Peter flicks the underwear back at you. "You liked it. Don't act like you didn't."

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

Peter crawls forward and kneels before you, baring his teeth playfully. "Maybe next time I oughta bite you and teach you a real lesson about teasing wolves."

You giggle and boop his nose. "Maybe I'll have to tease you again, just to find out what those teeth of yours are for."

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you down on top of him. "I'll show you right now!" He bites your shoulder gently and you go still in his arms. He releases you and bites again, a slow drag of his teeth over your bare skin where your shoulder and neck meet. "Tell me to stop," he says lowly, needing your consent to continue.

"I won't," you whisper. You never want him to stop. You're so turned on by him it's insane. All he's doing is biting your shoulder. You've got it so bad and it's more than okay with you. It's been a very long time since you felt this good.

Peter bites again, this time it's more like little nibbles than bites on your neck. He quickly soothes them with his tongue. It's too much too quick. You can feel him grow warmer, a growl rising in his chest as he bites and soothes, bites and soothes. You've opened a whole new world to him and he's diving in head first.

"Peter." You say softly, hand going to his hair. He growls and you tug his head back. "Peter, hey."

"Mmmm?"

"You do have to stop. I don't want to either but...we should really have a first date before this."

Peter groans and drops his head back onto the pillows. "You're right. I got too into it, you just make me go crazy and I can't get enough."

You roll off onto your back and he situates himself so he's on his side, hand on your stomach, looking down at you. "I need to go to sleep. I have my last final tomorrow."

"Should I stay?" He asks, fingers lacing with yours as you cover his hand on your stomach. It's not uncommon that you nap together. Peter loves to sleep with you, and you think you know why.

"I'm not sure. Can you keep your hands to yourself?"

Peter chuckles softly. "My hands, maybe. But my teeth? I dunno. I might have some dreams after this evening. I could get bitey and handsy."

"You should go then." You cup his cheek with your free hand and he leans into it. "I have to sleep."

"Alright." Peter closes his eyes. "One last bite?"

"Should I let you?"

"Mmhmm."

"Just one."

Peter crawls over you, arms braced on either side of your head. He ducks down, nosing against your jaw. You tilt your head up and he licks a little along your throat. He's already taking advantage of your agreement. He's taking his sweet time and you are going to stop him.

"Peter." You warn, grabbing his hair and he moans softly into your skin. "You're taking a long time."

"You didn't say I couldn't."

"Don't you start with me."

Peter giggles, full on giggles as he kisses your neck over your pulse point. "But I can't help myself. You've let me in and now you're stuck with me."

"Peter!"

"Omnomnom," he mouths at your neck playfully and pulls back, crawling off the side of the bed. "Alright. I'll let you sleep." He leans over and kisses your nose. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Peter."

______________________

After your math final you head out into the courtyard to make your way to the north parking lot. You're finally done. Classes are over for the next few months. It feels great to be free for a while, to not have to worry about anything. You spot Peter sitting on the fountain waiting for you, he's got an extra hoodie on his lap and you wonder if it's for you.

"Hey," you say and he looks up from his phone with the biggest smile. "Are you waiting for me?"

"Yes." He stands, towering over you and passes you the black hoodie in his hands. "I brought this for you."

"What for?" You hold it up and it says Aerospace Program. It's the hoodie they give students who have been accepted into the program that places them in study at the aerospace center. It's the program that essentially fast tracks you to a job with NASA.  "Peter! You got in!"

"I did!" He says, shaking and turning the hoodie over for you to show you his name on the back. P. Mendes in bold white font. "I'm going to be the first werewolf on the astrophysics team. No. I am the first one because I'm already in."

You wrap your arms around him and he holds your head to his chest. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you." He presses his nose into your hair. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"I haven't been told where I've been placed yet."

You pull back and look up at him. He looks sad and he shouldn't. He should be the happiest he's ever been. This is his dream come true. "Why's that a problem?"

"Because if I'm not placed here then I'll be placed at the Florida program in our sister school. I'll have to move."

"Oh." Your heart sinks. He might have to leave. Just when things were starting to become more familiar with the two of you, he may have to completely relocate. "Then you go."

"But what about us?"

"We aren't in too deep yet."

"I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving home."

You cup his face and he scowls at you. "Don't throw away everything because of me. I won't let you do that. Why are you worrying about this now? Placement letters don't come out for another month right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to lose you." Peter gathers you close again. "I just got you."

"Then make the most of it now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." You pull away and put on his aerospace hoodie. It's a little big but it's comfy. "We have a date tomorrow night, and Shawn's rivalry game. There's so much to look forward to." You hold his face and squash his cheeks so he makes a fish face. "Stop worrying you big baby."

"How can you be so worry free?"

"Because I know things will work out."

"But how?"

You scowl at him and he scowls right back. "Because I said so. I know you're mister logical everything needs a solution, but this time, just let it be. Just relax. Classes are over, we're free for the next three months."

"Yeah." Peter wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up with ease so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His strength is always surprising. He doesn't look nearly as big and toned as Shawn or Raul but he can easily make you seem like nothing more than a ragdoll. "Three months of you all to myself. I guess I can relax."

"Mhmm. Let's go tell your brothers the good news?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

____________________

Saturday you leave Shawn's game with Peter. You're both in a great mood. The game was outstanding, a hard fight between both teams and Shawn's came out on top. You and Peter drive out of the lot and as you head down a dark street toward the edge of town you realize you don't actually know where you're going. You were so caught up with Peter the last few days you never asked where this date was going to be at.

"Where are we going?"

"The observatory. There's a meteor shower tonight."

"Whoa, did you know there was going to be one? Or is that a coincidence?"

Peter looks over and chuckles. "Yeah I knew. It's going to be incredible. And if we're lucky, we might see something else."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

An hour later and you and Peter are in the observatory, walking around the informational exhibits while waiting for a turn to use the telescope. There aren't many people there, just a few families and some other couples on dates it seems.

Peter takes your hand and leads you into the atrium. It's a huge room with glass walls and a glass ceiling. You can see the stars as they begin to appear one by one in the sky. Being so far out of the city makes the sky so clear, so crisp and dark. There are no lights in the atrium and you sit down on some cushions with Peter, eyes glued to the sky overhead. It's breathtaking.

"Unbelievable isn't it?"

You look over and Peter is smiling ear to ear. "It's like we're in space."

"Yeah. Here, lay back," Peter says and guides you back so you're laying with your head on the floor cushion. He lays beside you and points to a cluster of stars. "See those?"

"Yeah?"

"That's Orion's belt." He points to the left. "There's the Little Dipper."

You follow his finger as he traces out the brightest stars for you. "When is the meteor shower supposed to start?"

"Soon. But I think we might get to see something else first." Peter points to the skyline where there is a hint of light dwindling away. "Look there."

"The sun set?"

"No, it's not the sun." Peter points along the skyline to the left and the lights there look green. "It's the aurora borealis."

"What?" You squint and the light is so far and so faint you can't be sure. "No way."

Peter laughs. "Yes way. If we drive another hour that way we'll be able to see them better. I haven't seen them up close since I was a kid. I hoped tonight was clear enough to see them from here."

"I want to see them."

"But we'd have to drive so far and then back home."

You grab Peter's hand. "Show me the lights. Let's do it, I don't care if we have to sleep in the car."

"You're serious?" He laughs as you nod. "It's early enough, we can probably catch the end of them pretty clearly."

"Let's go." You gather up your purse and Peter leads you to the exit, the two of you giggling like children.

____________________

Forty minutes. Peter drives fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit for forty minutes on the dark highway to take you to the lights. When he pulls over at a rest stop atop a hill, the view is breathtaking. Blue and green lights swirl across the sky, fading in and out of each other. They move slowly like they're floating across the night sky. Ribbons of ethereal light.

"I can't believe I'm seeing this." You mutter, walking around the open field behind the rest stop.

Peter turns your head to the left and there you see something streak across the sky. "The meteor shower is starting."

"That's not a shooting star?"

"No. Well, it could be but I'm pretty sure that was a meteor." Peter wraps his arms around you from behind. "There's the moon."

"Oh! Its full?"

"Not quite. Two more nights and it will be."

You sit down and Peter adjusts so he can hold you between his legs. "Thank you for driving this whole way."

"Do you know what's special about tonight?"

"It's our first date? The lights?"

He chuckles. "Well yes, but the moon is in the same phase it was the night we met." He leans back and then holds a little box up in front of you. "I got this for you."

You take the box and look back at him. "What's this? You didn't have to get me something."

"I know." He presses his face into your neck. "Open it."

You lift the box lid and inside is a necklace with a nearly full moon charm and a small constellation of stars connected to each other. "Peter...this is beautiful. What- why?"

"It's the moon, from the night we met, and your star sign's constellation." He lifts up the moon charm and rubs over it with his thumb. "I thought it'd be perfect for you and as you know I'm a space nerd so..."

"I love it Peter." You turn and set the box down in favor of grabbing his face to kiss him. You kneel between his legs and press your lips gently to his. "Thank you."

Peter's hands find your face and he guides you back so you're laying on him. He kisses you slowly, lovingly. He bites at your lip, nibbling for permission to take things further and you giggle, biting back in response. He growls and rolls you over so you're under him.

For a moment you open your eyes. It's like a dream. The sky above is alight with green and blue waves of light. Peter is so close you could count the freckles on his nose if it were brighter. Truly this doesn't feel real, and you don't want it to end.

_____________________

Three in the morning you wake up to use the bathroom. The bed is empty, though you know Peter went to bed with you last night. The two of you got in at almost midnight and went straight to your room to fall asleep, exhausted from the driving and all the kissing you were doing under the lights.

You make your way to the bathroom and take a seat on the toilet when suddenly you hear voices, the guys. Weird they'd be up so late, but it is the end of the semester. None of them have classes tomorrow. You tune them out, focusing on your businesses.

Until you hear your name. You press your ear to the wall beside the toilet and listen. They're in the living room and they must be close to the wall because you can hear them plain as day.

"So you guys are officially an item?" Raul asks.

"I don't know about officially." Peter replies.

A scoff from one them followed by, "The bite marks on her neck seem pretty official. I can't believe she let you mark her up like that." It's Shawn. "At least take her on a second date you animal."

"I will!" Peter protests. "I got carried away, she is so...she's so good. I couldn't help myself. She gave me the green light and I wasn't going to stop. Come on, you guys know what it's like right?"

"No."

"Not really."

"W-what? I know you guys have been with girls."

Shawn let's out a laugh. "Dude, of course but not like her. You do realize you guys are different."

"Yeah. Don't tell me you don't know," Raul says, voice trailing off.

"I know. It just hasn't come up."

There's a long silence that follows. You lean away from the wall and stare at the hand towel in front of you. What hasn't come up? Is there something wrong? Did you do something? You finish up, wash your hands and pull open the door to go back to your room.

Peter is there at the end of the hall at your bedroom door as if he were going to go back to bed. You stop short of him, standing and staring at his back. What do you say? What do you do?

"Up late?" You ask softly.

Peter turns around and he walks up to you, hands warm as he lays them on your shoulders. He doesn't have his glasses on and he's got his hair clipped back in one of your barrettes. Any other time you would have made fun of him, teased him for taking after Shawn's ridiculous hair trend. But right now it doesn't feel right. Right now you don't know what to think.

"Yeah, just woke up. You okay?" He asks, sliding his hands up to your cheeks.

"Yeah."

An hour passes with you and Peter laying in bed. You can't sleep. How could you? There are many things you've overheard in this house, many things you've just decided to let be. Usually fights, sometimes conversations about girls. But this time, you can't let it go. This time it's about you and Peter, and it's something that you've done and he knows. Your stomach churns. You can't think of anything you've done. Things have been going well, you and Peter fit together perfectly. What-

"Darling," Peter mumbles sleepily, rolling over and putting his arm across your chest. "You're still awake?"

"Can't sleep."

"Talk to me."

You sigh softly. "It's nothing. I'm just overthinking."

Peter slides his hand up your chest and rests it against the base of your throat, thumb stroking gently over your trachea. "Talk to me about your thoughts. I want to be completely honest with you."

"I'm just...worried about classes." You close your eyes and clench your jaw a bit. You feel bad lying about this. You just don't know how to ask for what you want to know. "I think I failed my math final."

"Oh. Well, you can always repeat the course?"

"Yeah. Just wanted to get it out of the way."

He hums softly. "Is that all that's on your mind?"

"Mmmhmm."

His thumb strokes over your throat gently and you shiver. He knows full well how he's affecting you and he knows that you're lying. You don't know how, but you can feel he knows. "Would you sleep better if I went to my room?"

"No." You pulls his hand away from your neck gently, threading your fingers between his. "Please stay."

"Alright."

You close your eyes again and try to settle down. It's not easy when you know he wants you to tell him the truth. You feel so bad. So guilty. "If I did something wrong, you would tell me, right?"

"Mmmhmm." Peter yawns.

"Okay." You turn and curl into his chest. He puts his arm around your back, gathering you as close as possible. "Goodnight Peter."

"Goodnight Darling."

_____________________

Three weeks later.

"I haven't gotten my placement letter yet." Peter groans, sinking into the dining chair at the kitchen table. "Everyone is getting theirs and I'm not."

"You'll get it. Stop freaking out."

"Everyone is being placed here in town. Spots are filling up, if they fill up here then I'll be placed in Florida."

You lean over the table and cup his jaw. "Peter."

"Darling."

"You're going to give yourself an ulcer."

"I won't leave you." Peter says, taking your hand in his. "I won't."

"Peter. You have to. You cannot stay here because of me if you get placed in Florida. We've been over this."

He stands and holds your face. "I am not going to leave you," he says firmly, leaving you no room for further discussion.

"When is your appointment?" You ask, changing the subject. "For your new tattoo."

"In an hour."

"We should get going then."

At the parlor your take a seat beside Peter. He picks out a moon tattoo, nearly full, the same moon he gifted you on your first date. It's small, just big enough to go right above his swallow on his bicep. He also has two other small drawings. The constellation for your star sign and his.

"You're sure you want mine?" You ask, touching the drawing of the cluster of stars in his hand. "What if something happens?"

"What if we break up you mean?" He chuckles and you give him a look. "I'd never regret it."

"You're sure?" You take his hand and he threads his fingers between yours.

Peter smiles and kisses you quick. "Yes I'm sure. Do you wanna stay for my tattoo or do you want to shop around a bit?"

"I could pick out a new stud for your lip?"

"You could. But I'm not sure how long I'll keep it."

"Why?"

"Because it's a pain to keep in my lip with my fangs."

You nod. "Alright, I'll stay then."

"Promise? Even if I'm a wuss?"

"Yes." You giggle and he leans back to relax, taking a deep breath before the artist gets seated. You hold his hand, thumb rubbing the back his fingers. Maybe he could hold your hand one day while you get a tattoo. Maybe...maybe you'd get something for him.

_____________________

Peter's placement letter arrives on a Saturday. You grab the mail as soon as you hear the box close from where you're watching TV in the living room. No one is home but you. The guys all went out for a run some time ago. You sort through the mail and there is it, addressed to Peter A. Mendes. It's from the school, there is no way it isn't his placement letter. Your hands tremble and you look around as if you have been caught with some sort of forbidden paraphernalia.

"We're back!" Shawn calls from the kitchen and your heart leaps into your throat.

You stuff the letter into your shirt, tucking it into your bra. If he doesn't know it's there, he can't panic about it for a little longer. It's wrong. It's so so wrong. But things are going so well, you and Peter are just about to make the next move in your relationship.

"Darling?" Peter's voice floats into the room and you turn around, hand full of mail. "There you are."

"Mmm? I was just grabbing the mail. I didn't hear you come in."

Peter takes the pile from you and sorts through it, the same expression on his face as he always has. Troubled, scowling, waiting to see that off white school envelope. Relief washes over him, his features softening as he gets to the bottom of the pile. "Nothing yet," he says softly, looking to you and giving a weak smile.

"Nope. Soon though."

"Yeah."

You cross your arms and the letter stabs into your chest uncomfortably. What a perfect metaphor for what you've done. "How was the run?" You ask, attempting to change the subject and not think of the paper in your shirt.

Peter runs a hand over his hair and before he can begin to answer, Raul is putting his arm around his neck. "You should have come!" Raul says excitedly. "Your man went crazy today."

"Oh yeah?"

"I did not." Peter says in his defense. "I just let off some steam."

"Crazy, loco." Raul raises his eyebrows. "He was tearing things apart. Absolute madman."

Peter shoves Raul off of him and covers your ears. "Don't listen to him. He's the crazy one."

You just smile and lean your head against Peter's chest. "Its okay, I know you're crazy. I don't need Raul to tell me that."

"H-hey!"

Raul cackles triumphantly and goes back into the living room.

"I am not." Peter looks down at you, shifting his hands so he's cupping your face. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"A little."

"You want me to put you in your place?" He smirks and you press against him. "Yes? You do don't you?"

You wrap your arms around him. "Maybe. My last bite marks have all healed over so..." The letter crunches against your skin and you freeze. Fuck. You can't get into it with Peter now. You have to hide the letter. "So...I'm going to check my email and see if my grades for world studies has been posted yet."

Peter eyes you suspiciously but says nothing as you move away from him and head toward your room. Smooth. Real smooth. Not sketchy at all.

_____________________

"Can we talk?" Peter asks while laying across your bed later on that evening. You knew this was coming. There was no way he'd let your suspicious behavior fly earlier.

"Sure."

"I know you want me to drop the subject of the program placement, but I have a question," Peter says softly, his hand finding yours on the bed.

"What is it?"

"Would you go with me?"

You turn your head to look at him, silhouetted in the dim light of your mood lamp on the nightstand. "To Florida?"

"Yeah. If I get placed there."

"In a perfect world, yes." You smile and he looks over at you. "I can be a teacher anywhere. I've got a few more years than you, but I don't mind transferring."

"You'd leave everything behind here?"

"What's here to leave?"

"School? Family? Friends? Shawn and Raul?"

You bite your lip and roll over to lay against his chest. "Moving is only temporary. We'd come back in two or three years?"

"Yeah. Or I'd get a job with the center down there."

"Ohh, well yeah then I think I would go. It'd be fun."

"Yeah."

You take a shaky breath and let it out. "If I did something, will you promise not to be mad?"

"Depends on what you've done." Peter says softly, hand going to your hair. "Some things warrant more emotion than others."

"I took something."

"From me?"

"Kind of." You bite your lip and look to your dresser where his letter is tucked away in the top drawer.

"Kind of? How's that?"

"Well it wasn't yours yet, not technically."

Peter chuckles. "You're speaking in riddles. What'd you do?"

"I took your letter."

"You what?"

You push away from him and climb off the bed. He sits up and looks at you with a confused expression. "You're mad huh?"

"Confused, a little hurt, but I'm not mad." He shakes his head. "How long have you had it?"

"Today. It came right before you got back from your run." You dig in your top drawer and get his sealed envelope out. "I just wanted to delay the news a little while. I wanted you to myself for a little longer. I knew if you got this you'd only focus on it and-"

"Stop." Peter stands and takes the envelope from your hands. "No matter what is in this, no matter what it says, I will be here for you. I won't fret over it. I won't ignore you."

"But-"

He presses his fingers to your lips. "Shh. No buts. It's time for me to open it."

You watch, eyes wide as he tears open the top carefully. He unfolds the letter, eyes scanning the page, face completely relaxed and emotionless. It's so tense you can feel your heart beating in your throat. This letter is going to change everything to come in the next few months.

"I'm moving..." He says softly, eyes flicking away from the paper to yours and then back.

Your heart stops, stomach going cold and sick. "You-"

"...moving my stuff into your bedroom, because I'm staying!" He grins and turn the letter around. You snatch it from his hands and scan the top of it. His placement is at the program on campus.

"Peter!" You shove him and he scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around. "You scared me! I was gonna stress puke!"

Peter stop spinning and pins you to the bed and smiles down at you. "I couldn't resist. I'm sorry." He kisses your nose. "But I'm staying, I'm going to be here with you. I couldn't be happier."

"I'm happy too. I don't think I would make it if you had to leave." You brush back some curls that are hanging down in your face. "It was hard enough when I didn't speak to you for a week."

"That almost killed me."

"Yeah." You giggle and then suddenly you remember the other day. The conversation you overheard. "Peter, can I ask you something?"

"Anything." He noses at your neck and you pull his head back so he knows you're serious. "What's wrong?"

"I heard you and the guys talking the other night. You said you knew something but didn't want to tell me. Did I do something?"

"Oh. Oh no, no you didn't do anything." He chuckles and shakes his head. "We were talking about like...well...werewolves get this connection when we meet someone who is very compatible with us. It's like we form this bond that ties us to this person."

"A mate."

Peter flushes and clears his throat a bit. "Y-yeah. How'd you know?"

"Some of my friends back home were werewolves. It came up a few times."

"Oh thank goodness." He says, so relieved. "I was worried you'd not understand or freak out or something. That's why I didn't say anything before. I've known for a while that-"

"I'm your mate."

"Yes."

"And you're going to stay here for school."

"Mmhmm."

You grin big and grab his face in excitement. The feeling of knowing you're his mate, that you're going to be happy and have him by your side until the end of time is so overwhelming but exciting. "And I get to sleep with you every night and wake up to your mess of hair and your stupid sleepy smile every morning. I-I love you. Oh my God I love you."

Peter laughs a little and leans in to kiss you quickly. "I love you too."

"My Peter." You press your forehead to his. "My mate."

"And you're mine." He bumps his nose to yours. "Forever and always."

You close your eyes and smile. "Forever and always."

End

___________________

Thank you for reading this series! It’s been an incredible journey from start to finish. Thank you everyone who sent kind messages and asked questions and just was excited in general. Shout out to @shawnm521 @delicateshawn @planstonightbaby for your help and input through out this fic. I couldn’t do it with out you guys always listening to me ramble on about concepts.

Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers.  - A

Custom header per part made by the incredible delicateshawn

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[whathappenedtomyweekend]

It’s Just A Spark Ch. 10 - Eye of the Storm

Toothless could not understand. There were, of course, a couple of things he was not able to grasp - advanced mathematics, for example, or why all-you-can-eat feeding stations were not an established thing yet.

Right now, however, it was beyond him how his nervous, asthmatic fire-battling human could be this daft. He was currently pacing around the flat, his clicks and thumps disturbing Toothless' peaceful slumber. That is, it had been peaceful since about twenty minutes ago.

Apparently, Hiccup had thought it was a good idea to get up at nine a.m. after a night shift to rattle around and start cleaning the flat.

"Toothless! C'mon, bud, I have breakfast ready!"

Toothless yawned and stretched, getting up from his nook on the bed and trotted into the kitchen where his human was waiting for him, a big grin on his face as he crouched down to scratch his ears.

"Hey, bud. You slept well?"

I did until you woke me up.

"Sorry I forgot yesterday night, I really am. Lucky us Astrid came to the rescue, huh?"

I could have starved if it hadn't been for her, Toothless meowed indignantly and flicked his tail.

Still, he had been happy to see Astrid. He liked her. She was gentle and had given him an extra snack and cuddled him and smelled nice. And she made Hiccup happy.

So why, Toothless wondered, didn't she stay here all the time so she could feed and pet him and make his human grin like an idiot at any given moment?

Why all the constant travelling between their respective homes?

Maybe they weren't sure they really wanted to spend so much time together? After all, it had been only him and Hiccup for quite some time now, since they had move out of his father's house. Toothless yawned again and settled on Hiccup's lap, curling into the warmth of the human's body, deciding the two humans should come to a better solution today.

"Good morning."

The woman looked up from her computer screen and smiled at the familiar auburn-haired man in front of her.

"Henry, what brings you here?"

Hiccup smiled at her. "I just wanted to stop by to ask my father something. Is he in?"

"Yes," she replied, frowning. "Henry, I … don't suppose you know what this fuss about all these cloth cases he brought in yesterday was all about?"

Hiccup bit back a groan, mumbling, "Oh, bother" under his breath before flashing her a quick smile and hurrying towards his father's office.

"Uh, I'll check that out. Thanks, Bertha."

He knocked twice, thrice. His father's cheerful voice answered.

"Come in!"

"Dad, I heard-"

Hiccup fell silent at the sight of him. Bertha had not prepared him for what he wouldactually see.

There sat his father, in-between at least three clothing bags and a small cardboard container, grinning at him.

"Ah, son, there you are!"

"Dad, what …"

"I solved your clothing problem!"

The young man threw his hands up, widldly gesticulating at the bags.

"For the next five years?"

Stoick Haddock hummed and leaned back in his chair, watching his son intently as he chuckled, "Well, I was hoping she sticks around longer than that, but, essentially, yes."

Hiccup stepped closer, his hands flying up to his hair.

"Are those … are those ties?"

"Yes, you might never know. I have prepared multiple options and combinations for you. And they do, you know," he chuckled. "tie the whole look together."

"I see," Hiccup deadpanned, his expression so helpless Stoick barked out a laugh and got up to give his son a well-meaning pat on the back.

"Come on, boy, lighten up a little! After all, you might never know," his voice dropped to a conspirational tone. "maybe she justso happens to know how to tie them and will help you."

"Wasn't that actually your job to teach me?"

His red ears gave him away, making Stoick laugh again.

"If you want, just take the shirts for now. I got you both button ups and downs, since I thought you didn't care. And I couldn't choose. Plus, Gobber wasn't really helping over the phone, he just kept telling me to leave the shop. He does seem to be about sixty percent of my self-control these days. Oh well."

"I - I'm not even sure how to respond to that, if I'm being honest here, Dad."

"Just take them?"

His son sighed but smiled at his father. "Thanks. You really saved me."

After a short pause, he added, "I'll ... choose carefully."

Stoick grinned. "That's what I wanted to hear. Now, off you go, and have fun today! By the way, talk to Gobber about your overtime."

Hiccup's voice was muffled against all the clothing and plastic in his arms.

"Thanks, Dad, I will. I'll, uh - I'll call you."

He was already out the door when he heard his father shout after him, "Remember our talk about intentions!"

Hiccup's ears were burning. From the direction of the desk in front of the office he just heard a dry, "Oh, so it was about you."

It was noon by the time Astrid had dragged herself out of her bed and into the shower. A sigh escaped her lips as the hot water drummed down on her, easing some of the tension in her neck and shoulders.

As she lathered up her hair she idly thought back to last night. The job had been the usual, sure - but everything had seemed a bit less awful after her visit at the fire department and Hiccup's flat.

The young woman smiled up at the ceiling, screwing her eyes shut. Spending time with Hiccup and Toothless for a bit had recharged her batteries for the rest of the shift. And, well, she had also felt a bit flattered that Hiccup had trusted her with his. It had been a bit weird, being in his apartment without him, but she now knew that he was a naturally tidy person - at least at home, away from his desk at the department.

For a moment she wondered what it would be like to come home to that - to him. She imagined herself turn a copy of his keys in the lock of the apartment and enter as silently as possible, placing her shoes beside his and groping her way through the darkness to their bedroom, careful not to wake him as she'd quickly strip and crawl under the covers next to him. Maybe he'd shift in his sleep and curl himself into her.

She exhaled and scrubbed her hands over her burning face as she realised how much she actually wanted this. And yet, it didn't scare her anymore. The idea of being this intimate with him suddenly did not seem that scary to her at all.

'God, I want this.'

Astrid wasn't sure wether she only felt like this simply because it was Hiccup and she just couldn't help it, or if something inside her had shifted.

She thought back to the moment he had sat down next to her on that plank bed - they'd sat way too close, and at the same time not close enough, but her breath had hitched in her throat as he'd wrapped his arm around her, timidly, and had found herself wishing he'd hold her.

Funny, almost, how this would be enough for her if he'd ask. She knew that if Hiccup would ask her, she would be satisfied with the hugs and hand-holding and kisses on the cheek. If he said this was as far as they would ever go, she'd accept.

Then again, she'd seen the way he'd look at her sometimes when he thought she wasn't paying attention. She couldn't quite describe it other than intense. She only knew that this expression was very farfrom innocent. The memory of it sent shivers down her spine despite the hot water and steam around her.

Yet, he had always held back. In the end it came down to execution. But he was so adorably shy about it all. Of course, Astrid knew that by no means she was any more experienced in these matters than he was - heck, she'd regretted every person she'd ever kissed so far. A distinct feeling told her she couldn't (and wouldn't) regret him.

She, too, had never gone as far as she wished they would go together. Which made this all the more new and confusing to find herself drawn and attracted to him in way she had never experienced before.

He was new. And confusing. And challenging. And pretty much irresistable.

She could see him grin at her even from the distance they were still at. He waved at her, his smile broadening the closer they got. Involuntarily she picked up a faster place, soon almost running, and it was stupid and silly, but she just couldn't bring herself to care, laughter spilling over her lips as he caught her by the waist as she crashed into him, using the momentum to spin her around.

"Hey there," he mumbled into her hair, grinning. "Miss me already?"

She snorted, her hands fisting themselves into the fabic of his shirt. "You're the one to talk."

Hiccup chuckled. "I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed when I found my keys in my mailbox this morning."

Astrid grinned, linking her arms behind his back, burying her smile in his chest.

"Sorry, I couldn't risk you waking the cat."

He pulled back, raising an eyebrow at her smug face for a split second before breaking out into a toothy, dopey grin, his arms still locked around her.

"You ready to go?" he asked her then, stepping out of their embrace, reminding her of their inital plan. Astrid nodded, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers.

"Yeah, let's go."

It was a quiet walk, their joined hands swinging between them, shoulders sometimes bumping. The air felt heavy in contrast to their light conversation. Hiccup was pretty sure that spending his day off with Astrid was pretty high in his top ten. Scratch that, top 3. Top anything, ever.

The market was, to neither of them a surprise, buzzing with people.

He absentmindedly told her about how the biggest part of Berk's income was through export, mostly fish and seafood, but also some vegetables that were lucky enough to survive the winter. She laughed at that.

"I didn't think it was that bad."

"Oh, you just haven't experienced the real thing yet, trust me. Last winter was LIGHT. That was NOTHING. Just you wait, you're in for a real surprise."

"Is it really a surprise if you're telling me about it?"

"Not really, I just don't want you caught off guard, can't have you stuck in your arpartment without any food and water," he retorted, shooting her a small grin. Behind his teasing was a slight hint of concern and Astrid felt her smile widen, heart fluttering as she thought of deep, snowed-in winter, burying herself in blankets and maybe his arms.

"You fany salmon or tuna?" she heard him ask and piped up. They'd came to a halt in front of a STAND. Hiccup grinned at the two men behind the counter.

"Hey Mulch, Bucket. Long time no see, how've you been?"

"Oh, haven't you heard, Hiccup?" the dark-haired man of the two asked, lowering his voice conspirationally. Hiccup stopped, a frown on his face as he leaned in to hear the other man.

"No, what happened?"

"Bucket's been having his headaches again."

Astrid paused, confused at the way Mulch told Hiccup this as if delivering bad news.

"Oh, well-"

"I give it twenty more minutes," Bucket moaned from behind, cradling his head as he sat down on a stool behind the counter. "And it's gonna be a big one. You kids better hurry back inside."

"Okay then, we'll just, uh … take some salmon and tuna. Thanks."

Mulch handed him the fish and exchange, then nodded solemnly. "Always trust the bucket, Hiccup."

"I don't - neverm - okay, thanks. I'll see you guys around."

Astrid started slightly when she felt his hand rest on the small of her bag and lightly pushed her forward; they started moving again.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled. "Bucket swears his headaches can predict the weather. According to him there's a storm headed to us."

"And you don't believe that?"

He shrugged. "Not really. He always used to tell us that, sort of like a children's tale. You know, growing up."

Astrid nodded but before she could respond, she felt a raindrop hit her forehead.

Hiccup stopped dead in his tracks, squinting up at the sky and then narrowing his eyes at her when she tried to keep herself from laughing. "Alright, so there's a bit of rain …"

The rain got worse with every step they took away from the market and soon, they were running, again joining their hands as they stumbled through the streets, laughter spilling over their lips.

"You were saying?" she spluttered as they came to a stumbling halt at his apartment.

"Okay, so there's a lot of rain," Hiccup replied, turning around to her. Astrid snorted at that, grinning up to him, making him hesitate shortly as he caught her gaze.

They were absolutely soaked. Astrid's fringes hung into her eyes, but somehow he looked at her like she was a revelation of sorts; slowly he reached out and gently brushed the hair out of her eyes, his fingers tingling as they came in contact with her cold skin. Astrid smiled up at him and she was blinding.

He blinked. She'd said his name.

"Yes?"

"Could you unlock the door?"

"Oh - yeah, of course, sorry," he spluttered, digging for his keys.

They stepped inside, shivering at the sudden change of temperature. Outside it was properly pouring now; in the distance, thunder was rolling over howling wind. Hiccup huffed. Great. Bucket had been right.

He'd given her one of his jumpers and a pair of sweatpants. Now, sitting in his kitchen, dry and warm, a purring Toothless on her lap, Astrid watched Hiccup fiddle with the regulators on his old radio, muttering to himself. At the sight of him, his hair freshly towelled try, brows furrowed in concentration, the young woman felt a wave of affection wash over her.

His face lit up when he finally found the frequence and threw her a short glance, lips twitching upwards. The voice of the radio commentator filled the room.

"… will hit Berk in its full velocity at approximately 17:00. It is not yet certain when the storm will subside. But until then, we advise all our listeners to stay inside their homes for safety."

She watched his chest deflate as he let out a light sigh and straightened his back.

"Well, looks like we're stuck here for a while."

He sat down in front of her, leaning on the table, eyes apologetic. Astrid hummed, a small smile playing on her lips as she leaned forward.

"Could be worse. At least we're stuck together."

Together. He smiled and looked down to his hands, clasped together on the table. Without thinking, he reached out and took one of her hands, making her uncross her arms on the table, his thumb drawing gentle circles on the back of her hand.

His voice was low when he finally spoke.

"Astrid, are we …" his eyes flitted up to hers for a moment as he inhaled. "Are we a couple?"

She hummed again, cocking her head to the side.

"Isn't that what you asked me yesterday? To be your girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "I did, I just, uh, didn't do it properly. Left some room to interpretation, huh?"

He let out a nervous chuckle. Astrid squeezed his hand, somehow anchoring him. Suddenly the words tumbled over his lips, almost easily, as if they had been waiting to be spoken.

"Astrid Hofferson, would you like to be my girlfriend?"

A wide smile blossomed on her lips as her other hand found his across the table.

"Hiccup Haddock, I can't even begin to tell you how much I would like that."

Hiccup looked at her with a wondrous expression, as if he couldn't quite believe she was real, and she would have just kissed him, her resolution to wait out the window, had he not stood up and pulled her against his chest.

"Thank you," he mumbled into her hair. Astrid smiled and wrapped her arms around his middle. "What for?"

He shrugged against her frame. "For just … I don't know. You. Call me cheesy, but I'm just really glad we met."

Astrid hugged him tighter and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, breathing in a warm, comforting soapy scent. Her answer was muffled against his chest.

They stayed like this for a little while, until Hiccup piped up, loosening his grip around her.

"You wanna get started on the food?"

Her stomach growled loudly, making him laugh.

"Guess that's a yes."

Astrid had learned that making sushi took longer than she had initially expected. She also learned that Hiccup was a very patient teacher. Her first roll had fallen apart three times to the point of her frustration; he had given her gentle instructions and suggestions each time, until she had finally managed one that didn't look half bad. Part of her couldn't really understand how he could be so calm while cooking, when for her it usually involed lots of rushing and still accidentally burning things.

"By the way, how's your job situation looking?" he asked while cutting up the last roll. When he laid down the knife and raised his head to look at her, he found her grin at him.

"I started writing my application. I can quit the Smith's in two weeks."

She almost squealed as he suddenly leapt up, pulled her out of her chair and spun her around before pulling her into an embrace.

"That's … Astrid, that's amazing!"

She chuckled at his excitement but tightened her grip around him. "It feels a bit weird," she admitted then, her voice muffled by the material of his thick jumper.

Hiccup hummed, one hand coming up to her shoulder as he drew imaginary maps on her skin through the wool.

"No more night shifts, huh?"

"Actually, yeah. I kind of … got used to it. Is that weird? Working a job I hate and getting used to it?"

She pulled back, eyes quizzically searching his and Hiccup could have sworn he had never felt anything more real than the weight of her hands on his chest. He hummed again, hands resting on her waist as he held her gaze and replied softly, "I think it's human, to get used to things. You kind of had to, to get through it, don't you think?"

Astrid nodded, her eyes dropping to her hands shortly, before a slow smile blossomed on her lips.

"You know,we gotta hand it to the night shifts, though. They're sort of the reason we met. If I hadn't taken that job and tried to cook at unholy hours, I'd ... well."

"Not be grateful for the night shifts?" He suggested, grinning lopsidedly. Astrid scrunched her nose at him.

"And not know you. Which would make my life a whole lot bleaker, to be honest."

His eyes softened.

"True," he admitted and resisted the urge to just kiss her right then and there, all else be damned, because some things needed to be said rather than done. "Same goes for me. At this point, I couldn't even imagine not knowing you, or at least I don't really want to. And I, uh, like life better with you."

Astrid smiled up at him and for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him right then and there, all else be damned, but she only leaned back into him, arms sneaking around his middle again.

He exhaled slowly and buried his face in her neck, closing his eyes. A sense of peacefulness overcame him.

Outside the storm was raging on.

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! - A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 1 

FF.net link - AO3 link 

Beep Beep. beep Beep. Click

8:00 am. Hisoka rolled over in his queen-sized bed, groaning at the interruption of his beauty sleep. Setting an early alarm after editing until 2 am was a horrible idea.

He grabbed his phone from his nightstand and rolls onto his back, following his ritual of checking all his notifications in the morning. The video he had uploaded after editing was well received, many comments about how he should try more looks with purple eyeshadow. About 3 years ago he had started his channel “Bubblegumbitch Makeup” as more of a throwaway joke after someone insulted his makeup on Instagram. However, an audience grew quite quickly, and Hisoka had to admit that he enjoyed the attention and luxury of it all. Making money by sitting in front of a camera and applying Makeup while people tell you how good looking you are is a great ego boost.

Half-heartedly he scrolled through his subscription feed, just to see what his competition was up to, though barely anyone had really uploaded during the night. Amateurs and their 'healthy' sleep schedules. A true influencer knows that an audience never sleeps.

 He disregarded his phone somewhere into the pile of pillows that make up his bed and made his way into the bathroom. His morning showers are more functional than enjoyable, quickly rinsing on whatever spirits of sleep may linger on him.

After that, the Makeup artist applied his usual morning creams, body lotion, towel dries his hair, and threw on a pair of grey low-waist sweats and a comfortable white razor-back shirt. Need. Coffee.

 Hisokas flat was a quaint little thing just outside of Rieti. An open imitation marble kitchen, facing the living room equipped with a black leather couch and wall mounted flat screen TV, opening to a relatively small balcony housing a few plants.

Exiting his bedroom, he grabbed the TV remote and switched unto a random morning news show, just needing background noise while he waits for his coffee to brew.

"And preparations are running wild for the annual Fashion Week in Rome. This year the line-up features many new promising designers from all over the globe. Tune in at 10 for more-"

The fashion week! Hisoka grinned, having nearly forgotten about this important event that he had always followed closely. Though rarely attending himself, he had been requested on multiple occasions as a make-up artist for certain models. But there was something more important connected to that special week. He grabbed his fresh cappuccino and strolled back to his room, fishing his phone from the depths of pillow mountain.

"Hisoka: Gooooood Morning! Roma's Fashion Week is coming up, are you going to stop on by? ~"

It didn’t take long before his phone chimed with the familiar Ping of a private Message.

“Bellissimo <3: I will be going to the Show for 4 days. If it proves convenient, I’d drop by for a short collaboration.”

“Hisoka: I’ll be keeping my bed warm~♥️���

“Bellissimo<3: Gross and unnecessary. I will book a room in my usual hotel in Rome. I’ll drop by for the Collaboration on Monday afternoon, and leave after.”

“Bellissimo<3: I will send you some sample pieces later, please come up with a look for one of them, and don’t just ‘wing it’ like last time.”

Hisoka giggled before disregarding his phone again. Illumi Zoldyck, breakthrough Fashion Designer from England, and eldest son of Zoldyck fashion magazine empire, who often uploaded videos of his artistic process on his channel “I. Zoldyck Fashion”. They had met 2 years ago, at a smaller Paris fashion show, the first one Hisoka ever attended. A model had requested Hisoka as her makeup artist, while Illumi had been working on a dress for her, and the two of them ended up working closely together to properly coordinate colours with each other. And though Illumi expressed great annoyance with Hisoka, they exchanged numbers, and started to make collab videos whenever they fell into the same place. Something about working together with Illumi got Hisokas heart racing. Seeing the camera-shy man get increasingly more frustrated with his antics was a joy that could hardly be topped.

But he didn’t have time to dwell in good memories and spine-tingling anticipation. He had work to do. And so once again he chucked his phone back into the pillow-cave system and made his way into his recording room.

It was a small office space, on one side an office Desk with a Desktop Computer, a couple of small succulent plants framing it, and a comfy black office chair. On the other side a set-up to record videos, with a white-pink gradient wall, a stainless white desk with a small mirror standing on it, and a less-comfy stool to sit on. In a smooth motion, Hisoka downed the rest of his coffee, set the cup aside, and started the camera. The night before he had laid out everything for his next video, a review for a new eyeshadow palette released by another Beauty Youtuber, still trying to get into the game. How Cute.

Hisoka clapped his hands together, putting on his best camera smile. “Hey, Scum! ~ Today I have a very special treat for you all. I got my hands on the new Togari Palette ‘Hunting for Your Dreams’, his first release.” He held up the shimmering silver case and opened it up for the camera to reveal 6 eyeshadows in various shades of orange and red. About half an hour and a couple try hard glamour shots later, Hisoka dropped the Palette with a grin, staring directly into the Camera. In addition to his signature Star and Teardrop under his eyes, he had attempted to imitate a flame-inspired eyeshadow look. “Well, this has been an absolute disaster. I feel like I’m losing clumps of eyeshadow every time I blink, and it feels sandy and irritating on my skin. But you have got to give it to Togari: I have never seen a Palette that features colours that are eye-biting and yet completely bland before. Though the surprise gift of a long, brown hair inside the sealed Palette wasn’t for me. But you know, if you see these Palettes in your local bargain bin, I’d say go for it.” He gave a cheeky wink, before rattling off his usual goodbyes, like and subscribe, yadda yadda.

Click.

Hisoka took the camera and set it by his computer. Before he could even think about editing, he must wipe away whatever the hell was in that shabby palette. Of course it wasn’t the worst make-up he had ever worn; it probably wouldn’t even make it in the bottom 10, he wasn’t here to make friends and spoon-feed his competition compliments. If a creator dares to churn out a subpar product, they have to deal with the consequences.

After practically subjecting himself to water torture via make-up remover towels, the man grabbed another whiteclaw from the fridge, and settled into his office chair. Digging through business emails was a boring, repetitive task, deleting promo-email after promo-email, practically begging him to promote some skin-care vitamins or boring phone app. Clicking the nails of his free hand against his desk, he tapped away at the delete button in a rhythm only known to him.

Finally reaching the bottom of his inbox, he switched to his private Inbox with a satisfied smile, an expected email already waiting for him. “From: I. Zoldyck: Roma Fashion Week Promos”.  To my private Email, dear Illumi? How shockingly Intimate~ Hisoka mocked in his head while opening the mail.  

“Hisoka.

Attached are 3 Designs I plan to show off at the show. Chose one for the collaboration and let me know in time.

Sincerely,

Illumi Zoldyck.”

Under his signature, 3 files were lined up, boringly titled “Design Roma 1/2/3”. Hisoka opened the first file and is greeted by a 2-piece suit with a light pink base colour, and blue-green flower highlights that frame the pockets and seams of the jacket, and the belt of the pants. Not bad, not bad.

The second file contained another 2-piece suit, this time with a black base colour, and a repeating roman-vase pattern in eye-catching blues, pinks, and oranges. Lovely pattern, and what a revealing jacket cut~. He was sure he had found his favourite, already planning a matching make-up look. But it wouldn’t hurt looking at the last design for pity, right?

Hisoka audibly gasped in a mixture of shock and flattery and laid a hand over his heart to complete the star performance. Staring back at him was a beautiful white-jeans design, patterned with colourful card-suits dotting the jacket and pants. The pattern was ever so slightly washed out, faking a vintage look. This is it. Mine. His heart was beating through his chest, and for the first time in a while he was truly speechless.

He had 3 more weeks until the show, but his mind was already bursting with inspiration, and when he later laid in bed, he couldn’t contain his grin as he texted.

“Hisoka: You already know which one im choosing~♥️♥️♥️”

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

Gon had been streaming for a good hour or so, talking excitedly to his chat about the new Season of Fortnite, admiring new skins that he was definitely going to try and get. Every new pass just meant a new challenge for him to prove himself, and it was undeniable that it was satisfying to work and game hard to get what he wanted. Just as he was about to ask chat if he should go another row, or change games for the night, a discord message drew his attention away.

“Kil: Yo, wanna team up? :p”

Filled with even more excitement, Gon returned his attention back to his stream. “Everyone, today we are going to feature a special guest!”

[emikochan]

Nordic 5 with the s/o wanting to learn their language but with a slight twist, the s/o wanting to try and learn their language but they fear they won’t be able or good enough to if that makes sense.

I'm so hyped for this. Thanks for the request, Cat-chan!🌸

~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Norway:

"You can do this, (y/n)."

"Hell no, Lukas. I'll make a fool out of myself"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest in a protective manner. Today, the market place seemed to be louder than ever before. It seemed to be buzzing with life and it was loud. What if the old man at the candy stall couldn't hear you and you had to repeat yourself awkwardly? What if he understood the wrong thing and accidently had you insulting his mother or something like that? The risk of messing up was just too damn high.

"Just go for it"

"No!" Cold fingers suddenly entangled with yours and you looked up to see him right by your side, looking down at you.

"We'll go together. If you mess up, I'm right there to correct it. You don't have to be afraid."

With a gulp you snuggled a bit closer to Lukas' side and you two approached the friendly old man, that welcomed you two with a warm smile.

"Hei"

"Hei" your eyes scanned the cute wooden boxes that were filled with sweets. They finally locked with the cute fish shaped candy that Lukas adored so much.

"Unnskyld, hvor mye koster det?" ( Sorry, how much does it cost?)

"20 stk koster 5 kroner" he replied and you felt Lukas' hand squeeze yours as an encouragement to go on.

"Det vil jeg gjerne" ( I'd like to have that) you felt a bit of sweat form on your forehead as you flashed him an unsure smile.

The old man nodded and packed your candy in a cute bag before handing it over to you. You gave the good man his money, bid him farewell and took a deep breath as you two went on your way.

"You did well, elskede." Lukas' lips had the softest tug of a smile at their corners and you felt your heart soar, a triumphant smile coming around your lips as well.

~~~~~

Denmark:

His lips covered your neck in thousand kisses. His breath sent shivers down your spine every few seconds and his soft touches left you yearning for more.

"Jeg elsker deg, (y/n)" he whispered and your clouded mind contemplated on wether you should say it or not.

Mikkel went on to whisper way more intimate things, that usually didn't show that much of an effect on you, since you couldn't understand a word. Today you blushed a bright red though.

Struck by surprise your eyes widened slightly. You actually understood some bits and pieces of the dirty things he growled. During the last few weeks you wondered if your lessons even had any effect on you but it's good to know that all of your efforts weren't in vain.

Maybe you weren't doing as bad as you thought you did?

Having enough of him being so cocky, you placed both hands on his shoulders and flipped him onto the bed with you on top of him.

"Hvad siger du, skat?" (What are you saying, darling?" you asked with a smirk and had the confident Dane under you with his eyes wide as little plates and an open mouth staring up at you in awe.

Mikkel didn't let you leave the bed that night and continues to beg you to speak more Danish even weeks after that.

~~~~

Sweden:

You actually caught him by surprise when he talked to his boss on the phone. He was so occupied with his thoughts that he accidently talked to you in Swedish.

You just finished your lessons for that day and were just as occupied with your thoughts as he was, so you replied in Swedish without even noticing it first. It took Berwald a few seconds after hanging up until he truly realized it.

"(y/n)? I didn't know you picked up so much Swedish." You blinked until the realization hit you too.

"Oh... well... it wasn't that good. I'm suprised you actually understood me." you started while fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"No, you almost sounded like a native. You're doing very well." he simply stated.

A straightforward man that states the blunt truth. That's why you loved him and his compliment made you smile brightly.

"Tak för det" (Thank you for that)

~~~~

Finland:

What on earth have you done to yourself.

Your hands were clasped over your head, smoke seemed to come out of your ears and your tired eyes could barely focus on the sheer endless lines of words and phrases that literally never.found.an.end anymore.

You were literally "Vapisee kuin haavan lehti" – which is something like "To tremble like the leaf of an aspen tree" or something around that gist- God you don't even know anymore.

"Rakas, are you finished with that project of yours?" A certain Finnish man peeked behind the opening door and found your exhausted body slumped over the desk with big tears swelling up in your eyes and his smile instantly fell. He came rushing to you in an instant

"Oh Hani, what's wrong? Did...did the project go so bad?"

You couldn't answer as you began to sob uncontrollably, the deep feeling of disappointment rising up in you since you totally failed to learn Finnish. Even the basics were too difficult to keep inside that damn head of yours and it just frustrated you to no end.

His hand was quick to rub your back in a comforting manner, while his other hand quickly ripped out a tissue from your desk's tissue box. His eyes fell on the several pieces of paper that lay spread all across the wooden surface. He instantly recognized it as his mother tongue and his eyes widened in astonishment as he noticed your handwriting, that apparently wrote all of those texts and notes down.

"Finnish?" he asked and picked one of the sheets up to examine it closer.

"Puhutko suomea?" ( Do you speak Finnish?) he asked you softly and you simply shook your head.

"I tried, ok. I tried but I just don't get it, it's just too much."

He frowned but it was directed to himself, not you. He nodded and pressed a kiss on your head as he continued to skip through the papers that you finished during the last hours.

"Rakas, you don't have to do this for me. I know how hard my language is, you don't-"

"But it wouldn't be fair! You learnt English and it would be just to at least try and learn your language too!" you exclaimed and he was taken aback for a second before smiling softly.

"Calm, sweetie, calm. How about we take a break today? Let's do a fun trip tomorrow and learn some easier vocabs than this."

That sounded good enough for you to finally calm down, go downstairs to sit on the couch with him and sob your heart out on Tinos shoulder. You confessed your frustration, hate and insecurity towards this new challenge and Tino listened and responded with nothing but reasurance, compassion and love all night long. He'll help you, don't worry.

~~~~~

Iceland:

Gosh, that dude started getting on your nerves. He was really testing your patience with his endless pestering and horrible pick-up lines in broken English that just made you cringe.

You just wanted to wait for Emil to come back from the bathroom so that you two could finally go the rollercoaster but this random guy just wouldn't leave you alone. His English was so bad that he didn't understand your rejection completely and just went on with his pestering, so you had nothing to lose, right?

You had enough.

"Ég er giftur! Drullaðu þér í burtu!" ( I am married! Shit yourself away/Beat it!) you hissed and the stranger took a few steps back before throwing his hands up in the air and finally disappearing.

You huffed and hoped he got the message, Emil most certainly heard it.

"What got you so worked up?"

You turned around in shock and instantly felt shame coming up in you as you locked eyes with the familiar pair of violet orbs. You wanted to improve your icelandic in secret and eventually surprise your beloved boyfriend by saying something nice to him and now the first things he ever heard you say in his native tongue were horrible swear words.

You sunk your head in shame.

"You know, we're not married...yet. But I liked that part very much" he said while placing his gloved hand on your chin to make you look at him.

"I'm sorry. I...wanted it to be perfect when I talk to you" you confessed with sadness still lacing your beautiful voice.

"Sounded perfect enough. Now let's go" Emil wrapped his arm around your waist and gently guided you away from the bathroom stalls.

He's really, really proud of you; don't think he didn't mean what he said simply because he kept the same expression the entire time.