#i could’ve thrown easier in here but here i am seemed more fitting

[scarvrse]

“Here I am again, the one who gets left behind.”

“Leave your love in a grave, if it won’t grow then let it stay behind.”

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

-

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

-

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

-

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

-

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

-

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

-

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

-

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

[theladyismyshepard]

Myra

@frustratinglyinquisitive Here, have my first (self-indulgent) redhead one-shot :)

You slowly blink your eyes open before closing them again, too bleary to bother. You rely only on your sense of hearing alone, and all you can hear are the familiar drippings coming from somewhere adjacent to you. You hoped it was a leak from some pipe, but you didn’t believe it to be true. After awhile, you couldn’t bring yourself to hope for anything at all.

Not when you had met a blonde who smiled so wide that it could’ve passed for deranged. She was one of the first things you had opened your eyes to when you first awoke in your cage. Her eyes were golden and shining beneath the dancing flames of torchlight. They were also as feral as her smile was.

There was blood smeared across her chin as it dribbled from her lips, and you couldn’t help but realize it was fresh with how bright and liquefied it was as a drop hit her chest. You could practically smell the iron on her breath from where she stood outside your cage — or was it all around you? Just as reality set into your body and joints enough to feel the pounding headache and jolting pains wracking your frame, she spoke.

“Not yet,”

What?

She couldn’t contain a giggle, and you realize your chapped throat still managed to whisper your thought out. She slowly withdrew herself, her fingers uncurling from around the bars. When your eyes zeroed in on the sickle in her hands, your stomach dropped as your hope began to quickly dwindle as she disappeared into the shadows.

Your spirit wasn’t lifted when you heard the buzzing of insects after some time. How long have I been here? It was long enough for the torch to have burnt itself out and for the extra bit of chill to bite into your bones.

The buzzing grew louder and closer and suddenly stopped. It was dead silent except for the drip drip drip and just when it became deafening, slow and deliberate steps cut through. Your breath caught in your throat, and got stuck there as your eyes strained to see through the dark.

A spark had you slamming your eyes closed, too sensitive from the prolonged darkness, but light danced behind your eyelids, painting them red. You heard humming as you briefly squeezed your eyelids shut tighter before rapidly blinking them open, taking in the smirking face of a brunette as she stood over your body, inside the cage, and face just as plastered with blood.

You scrambled back as far as you could go before your back collided with brick. Her eyes were just as golden as the blonde’s but there was little to no emotion shining in them. Her smirk widened however, and you could’ve sworn you saw her nostrils flare.

“You smell so delicious, I don’t think I can wait until dinner.” she moaned out.

You could feel the fear morph your face at her comment, and she laughed brightly, thoroughly entertained. When it died down, her face shifted into into a blank look, her eyes cutting into you.

“What makes you special, I wonder...”

Her eyes narrowed, her gaze intense, but she took her leave without coming any closer, and it left you without knowing how to feel or what to think.

What makes you so special...

You didn’t exactly feel too special as you lied there on the cold ground behind thick bars. As the torchlight slowly snuffed itself out, fear weaved itself between the spaces of your rib cage, and nestled firmly around your heart, leaving you breathless. The tension that settled into your bones left you rigid and achey and unable to move. Your temple pounded, leaving you incapable of even lifting your head.

Drip, drip, drip...

The image of the women’s bloody faces flickered across your mind’s eye and it had you doing a mental check of your own body, surveying for damage of any kind such as missing limbs. It nearly split your head in two to try and recall what had led you to this place,so you just lay there, an incoherent slump.

You didn’t have a keen sense of time seeing as you couldn’t tell the difference between hours and minutes anymore. There were no windows to indicate whether it was day or night, and there was no way to track how long you had been stuck.

Drip, drip, drip...

It was all you could hear for the longest, the consistent dripping echoing off the walls. You began to tremble as the thought occurred that you would soon be spilling and dripping along the dirty floor as well. You swallowed thickly, mouth and throat so dry that it was an actual struggle that landed you into a coughing fit. It wracked your body so hard that it felt as though one of your ribs might burst through your skin; You were coughing so hard that you didn’t even really notice the room light up for a third time.

Tears streamed down your face as you finally were able to regain some composure. You opened your eyes, small droplets clinging to your eyelashes, and saw a glass hovering in front of your face. You were so thrown for a loop that you just sat there in a daze, staring at the glass of — Wait is that water?

Your gaze slowly trailed up the hand that was holding the cup, and your eyes met a third pair of golden eyes that took your breath away in a different fashion than that of the others. They seemed soft, as was the gentle upward curve of her smile. You couldn’t help but notice the lack of blood on any part of this woman’s body and attire.

“Hello,”

You released a breath you weren’t aware you were holding, and as you went to take another one, it felt easier and lighter than before.

“H-Hi,” you quickly stammered, unwilling to anger her.

“Drink this... please,” the redhead ordered gently, pressing the glass forward to give you the hint.

Your fingers grasped the glass, and her index finger grazed the side of yours before withdrawing and watching your movements. You maintained eye contact with her even as you brought it to your nose and sniffed cautiously. Instead of taking offense, she giggled knowingly.

Your chest felt light and your stomach felt warm at the sound, almost as if you were about to vomit out butterflies. Again, your eyes connected as you slowly took a sip. The water was lukewarm, but at least it was water and it felt refreshing and rejuvenating on your parched tongue. You greedily sipped until there was nothing more for you, not even a drop.

“Oh, my,” she sighed, her hand on her cheek. “I knew you would need to be watered sooner.”

If you didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like she was upset. She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she began playing with her fingers. Her eyes radiated warmth and concern as she ducked her head to look closely at you.

Drip, drip, drip

“Where am I?” You demanded, though the tremor that shook your voice had you more or less begging.

“This is Castle Dimitrescu, it belongs to my mother as well as my sisters and I, and unfortunately this is the dungeon.” she said, shifting uncomfortably, a grimace intact the whole time.

Drip, dri-

The dripping stopped almost instantly, leaving you in absolute silence then. Maybe the leak stopped? Or maybe the blood had finally run dry. You shivered.

“My name is Myra,” offered the redhead, an apologetic smile reaching her eyes.

“Am I going to die here?” You couldn’t help but question, cutting straight to the chase.

For the first time since you met Myra, her features hardened. She slowly knelt before you, unaffected by the dirt pressing and smearing into her black robe. The intensity had her golden eyes glowing as she stared deep into you. Her hand reached towards you and despite flinching hard enough that it jolted your whole body, Myra still moved until her hand was cupping your cheek.

“I told my sisters you are not to be harmed, and you will not be.”

You were like a cornered animal, but the thumb brushing your cheek had you feeling something you hadn’t felt in God knows when: hope. The dread weighing down your spirit and stress weighing down your body had eased the slightest bit, allowing you to breathe properly.

“And your mother?” you pushed, remembering her words from moments ago.

Myra cocked her head to the side as she pondered the good point you had brought up. It also had the blonde’s words reverberating through your head.

Not yet...

“Mother would never upset me by killing my pet.”

It rolled off her tongue with such ease that you almost didn’t register what she had said, but when you did, you had to do a double take. Pet? Her words from earlier that you had let go of suddenly popped into your head.

“You needed to be watered sooner.”

You wanted to argue, lash out and scream that you weren’t an animal, you were a person but then again, you have a faint idea of how they treat humans, so it wasn’t too much of a reasonable argument. But the way she had your face cradled showed that she thought something more of you than others. Myra was your best bet at survival, plus it helped that despite the circumstances, she was a sight for sore eyes.

You could hear phantom drips in the background, but the thumb caressing your cheek caught you carefully by the chin and reinforced eye contact. Her calming aura had you relaxing and going slack beneath her touch, something that had her smiling so wide you were afraid her face would split. If you looked closely, you could see hope swirling in Myra’s eyes as well.

“Don’t worry, you are mine.”

It didn’t sound so threatening, and in fact you were nodding along.

“I’m yours,”

[whittakerjodie]

The Carriage Ride (13th Doctor X Reader)

For: The wonderful Jenny, @myghostmonument​ , as part of the secret Santa exchange for the Thirsting For Thirteen server. 

Words: 2.4k

A/N: Happy secret Santa, Jenny! I am so glad to know you and have the privilege of writing a piece for you <3 I hope that you enjoy this and the funny little alien names! 

“Wish we could’ve arrived with the first snowfall,” The Doctor said sadly. 

The two of you had decided to take a solo trip together. Yaz was feeling a bit tired and needed to see her sister for a bit. There was an opportunity for you, too, to take a small break on Earth. But the idea of spending time with the Doctor one-on-one was much more appealing than the pulls of daily life.

“I think it’s alright, still,” You said, defending your current scenario. The planet where you’d landed was still absolutely stunning. Even with a couple inches of snow covering most features, it was easy to appreciate that which you could see. The sky was a light lavender, darkest in the areas where there were clouds. Delicate flecks of snow fluttered to the ground, adding to the previously built layers.

It was beautiful, and you were happy to be there. The Doctor had explained the planet and it’s fun little backstory on the ride over, but truthfully, you’d not been paying attention. You knew it was Christmas, or at the very least a Christmas-adjacent holiday for the locals. The aesthetic certainly fit the bill, something you were sure was what persuaded the Doctor to bring you there.

“Yeah?” the Doctor asked, seeking a little extra validation. You nodded, giving it to her easily. She certainly deserved it, after the tough time you’d all had recently. “Well, good. There’s tons to do here. Hot cocoa- or, something that tastes like it at least. Sledding, carriage rides…”

“Oooh, like a horse drawn carriage?” You asked. The Doctor nodded. She stepped closer to you, linking her arm through yours as she led you towards an unknown destination.

“Not horse drawn, qauwukdeen drawn!” she said cheerfully. You scoffed.

“Say that five times fast.” When the Doctor opened her mouth, you clarified: “not actually, just a funny name. So what do they look like.”

“Like horses.” The Doctor replied bluntly. You laughed.

“So, just horses with a funny name then. Interesting.” 

Despite their format matching that of an Earth horse, the creatures still deviated in appearance. It’s mane seemed to be a collage of differently colored tentacles, all twisting and flowing with a mind of their own, without consideration for the wind. It was beautiful, like watching a rainbow solidify and dance. It’s hair was a mint green, mixing nicely with the snow it was walking through. There was only one per carriage, but the Doctor explained that the qauwukdeen were born with an immense strength. Pulling a carriage solo would be the equivalent of a feather for the creature.

It was a few minutes wait so that the qauwukdeen could eat a nice meal, but you didn’t mind. The Doctor's arm was still linked with yours, which was a welcomed, warm presence. Other couples smiled at you as they passed on their way to other festivities. Your face warmed then, too. Other couples. Implying that you and the Doctor were one.

Eventually, it was your turn to go on the carriage ride. You winced when you saw how big the step up was. Luckily, the Doctor was more than willing to help. Standing behind you, she gently set both of her hands on your waist. You jumped a little at the blazing hot, unexpected contact. The Doctor didn’t seem to notice your blip. If she did, she only used it to her advantage to successfully lift you up into the carriage.

Feeling bold and as if you should return the favor, you offered your hand to the timelord once you were in your seat. She accepted it with a wide grin, leaving her hand in yours once she was able to pull herself up. The two of you sat comfortably in the carriage, and it began to pull you off into the luscious, thick forest. It was rather dark, but the moonlight reflected on the snow to provide enough visibility. You gasped as the qauwukdeen pulled you farther and farther away from the town, giving you a tour of the incredible mountain passes that surrounded it. The landscape was beyond incredible. The Doctor was a little bit more relaxed, being accustomed to alien scenery.

Unfortunately, the relaxation didn’t last long. Almost a half an hour into the ride, you suddenly felt tense. By that point, you’d naturally gravitated towards the Doctor and were leaning your weight into her. Because of this, she could feel your tension. She pulled back, frowning. “What’s wrong?” She asked. You shrugged, looking at the scenery around you. Everything just suddenly seemed a little darker, a little colder. Interestingly enough, the qauwukdeen seemed to share your feelings. It slowed it’s pace ever so slightly. The decrease in footfall made it easier for you to pick up on the new movements. Something was coming out of the forest, towards you.

Even your high nerves paled in comparison to those of the qauwukdeen, which began to buck and cry out, fighting to get away from whatever mysterious creature was approaching. Unfortunately, it was partially attached to the carriage. While it attempted escape, it took you with it, throwing you into a sequence of movements that could only be described as chaos.

Your stomach swung in time with the carriage as you were thrown from side to side, the qauwukdeen taking off at a breakneck pace. The Doctor tried to grab onto you to stabilize both of your movements, but it was no use. The carriage, in the midst of moving so chaotically, suddenly collided with one of the many thick trees of the forest. You let out a loud yelp as you were tossed from your seat into the snow. It was a soft landing, thankfully, but the cold was jarring nonetheless.

You spat the snow out of your mouth with a disgusted groan, shifting your wait so that you were sitting upward. Unfortunately, the movement seemed to connect something in your body and you were suddenly aware of an intense pain in your foot. Hissing, you tried to bring it closer as some form of comfort to yourself. It did nothing to ease the pain.

You could hear more footsteps on snow, drawing closer, and were very happy to note that it was the Doctor coming towards you. Her face was contorted with concern, snow falling off of her as she ran to meet you on the ground.

“Alright?” She asked, brushing some of the snow off you. As the pain began to spread, you shook your head quickly. The Doctor carefully inspected your foot with a deep frown. “Not broken, thankfully, but it went through quite a bit in the crash.”

“What about you?” You asked. Then, you gasped when your eyes fell on a large mark on her face. “Amazing, actually, considering. Don’t worry about the face, just the qauwukdeen panicking a little. They’re alright, more worried about getting home on time for a visit with their son. You mind if I pick you up?”

“Pick…” You trailed off, cheeks warming hot enough to melt the snowflakes resting on them. She was only offering because of your foot, you told yourself. Shakily, you answered “Sure.”

The Doctor awkwardly eased her arms underneath your body, one supporting your back and the other your legs. As she pulled you both upward, you found yourself pressed tightly against her. She seemingly took little note of the close proximity, carrying you back over to the site of the crash. You gasped, a short cloud of breath breaking through the cold winter air. The carriage was in ruins; the qauwukdeen was staring down at the splintered wood, uninjured.

“No chance of fixing the carriage I reckon” The Doctor said. Your eyes widened; You had felt the words vibrate in her chest as they moved through the air. It was a feeling you loved and tucked away in your mind to cherish later. “We’ll have to hitch a ride back on Justine, and I can pay for the damages when we get there”

By now, the pair of you were right next to the creature, who was apparently known as “Justine?”

“Yup, that's their name! Don’t worry about not knowing it, they say they only give it out to the “cool” customers. Guess we fall under that criteria!” You chuckled lightly and reached out to pet Justine's incredible mane, shivering at the odd sensation as the tentacle-like strands ran through your fingers. Justine made an appreciative noise, and the Doctor smiled down at you.

“Are you comfortable sitting in the back? That way I can have better control. You can hang on to me if you need.”

“Yeah, that’s fine” The Doctor, already holding you up, used it to her advantage and lifted you onto Justine’s back easily. There was a slight strain on your foot still, but not enough for it to be unbearable. Still, when you winced, the Doctor paused and stared for a good long moment. You smiled a little to let her know she didn’t have to worry, and she unfroze. It was easy enough to believe that the Doctor had previous riding experience, as she easily climbed utop Justine and grasped her reins.

Your hands stayed down by your side, despite the Doctor’s offer to hang on to her. It felt a little too intimate, too close. Because you weren’t hanging on, the Doctor took things easy and Justine moved slowly back towards town. It was comfortable, and gave you enough time to appreciate the scenery even more. However, due to the speed, it was taking a lot longer to get back into town. The later into the night it got, the heavier your eyelids grew and the more effort it took to hold up your body.

After your third loud yawn, the Doctor reached back and calmly grasped your arms, leading them to rest around her waist. It drew your entire body closer to her, until your full weight relied on her strong figure. The warmth that greeted you as your head naturally tucked into the crook of her neck was unparalleled. Although the entire situation was designed to pull you into rest, it instead made you awaken further. As Justine picked up a little speed, you dedicated your time to memorizing the contour of your shape against hers.

Parting with Justine was a little bittersweet, but there was no time for goodbyes. According to the Doctor, they were 10 minutes late to go see their son. The Doctor apologized, and the qauwukdeen ran off as soon as their gear was removed. Other qauwukdeen’s followed as the carriage rides ended for the night. The Doctor paid for the damages to the carriage, despite the owners reassurances. Then, she turned back to you. For the last few minutes, you’d been sitting on one of the town's benches, waiting for business to wrap up.

“You sit tight, yeah? I’ll bring the TARDIS ‘round” You nodded happily, watching her disappear. Your body was still buzzing from the contact, every molecule asking whether there was more to come. Truthfully, you didn’t know. Certainly, things felt a little close the whole night, but there was still a giant chasm to cross. Telling anyone that you loved them was hard, but it was exponentially worse when that certain someone was an immortal time travelling alien that seemed to be operating on a different plane of existence at all times.

Just when you thought you were resolved to stay silent forever, the familiar Vwhorp, Vwhorp sounded. Blue walls began to appear around you. It was home, now. And the best feature of that home was standing just ahead of you, finishing up her work at the console. The lights of the TARDIS casted a warm glow over her head, and the cold you’d faced throughout the day was suddenly forgotten entirely. There was simply no way to keep silent. At least not entirely.

The Doctor helped you off the bench, not caring that she had stolen it from the quaint little town. “Feeling better dear?”

“Yeah, a lot better” Your blood rushed a little as the two of you casually moved past the word dear.

After telling her you were more awake then before, the Doctor had brought you to the TARDIS library for some more relaxation. Once you were settled on the couch she created a large fire, shutting out any cold that might remain. Then, she took a seat next to you. You stared at her for a moment, before your eyes drifted to her hand, which rested against her thigh.

She perked up a little, considering her hand in yours. “Doctor,” You murmured. “You know that I appreciate you, don’t you?”

Her eyes brightened, and she set her other hand on top of your conjoined ones, monopolizing the gesture. “I appreciate you too, Y/N. Where’s this coming from?”

“Doesn’t come from anywhere or- well, maybe it just comes from everywhere” You admitted. Be brave, you whispered in your head. “All of these adventures… I love it. I love-”

“I love you too” The Doctor broke through your courageous admittance. Her eyes widened a little, then a lot. “Was that not-”

Her hands began to slip away from yours, and you grasped them even tighter. “Doctor! You love me?”

You both stared at one another, neither sure of what to say. The Doctor seemed more shocked then you, like she hadn’t been planning her words like you had. Her lifetimes of skills kicked in, though, as she pulled your hand up to her mouth and kissed the back of it gently.

“I do love you,” She whispered softly, caressing the spot where she’d left a kiss with her thumb. “If that’s alright, I mean.”

“Of course it’s alright, “ You laughed breathlessly. “Doctor, I love you too.”

“Oh, Y/N,” She sighed. “You don’t know what it means for me to hear that.”

You grinned, moving forward to embrace her in full. She accepted the hug, her head nestling against your shoulder.

“You know, earlier, when you were holding on to me… I kept wondering if I’d ever get a chance to hold you like that” Her arms wrapped around you a little tighter, like she was afraid you’d slip away if she didn’t keep you secured. “Now I know what it feels like.”

She said it so relieved, like she’d been waiting centuries, eons, just to have you there in her arms. The two of you leaned your full weight into one another, burying yourselves in the knowledge that you both felt the same: warm, safe, and most importantly, loved.

[mage-ellie]

His Wish

This is my first request from AO3! People seemed to like it so I thought I’d post it here too :) I’m open for small requests! Feel free to request headcanons/scenarios/prompts! I’ll write about any of the P5R cast. Akechi is just my favorite boy <3 All I ask is that you don’t request abusive/toxic relationships, yandere, smut of underaged characters (I will age them up though), or pieces that romanticize mental illnesses. I prefer to write fem!reader since i’m a girl and it’s easier for me, but if you say please, i’ll do my best to write GN and male!reader pieces! <3 

Warnings: P5R spoilers, lots of fluff

Word count: 2,497

Link to original post: Click me!

Summary:  All Goro Akechi had wished for was to be loved, to be needed, by someone, anyone. He never could've imagined that his wish would actually come true.

In less than 24 hours, Goro Akechi was going to be married.

He never could've imagined that he would live long enough to find love, let alone get married. He had also never imagined that he would be marrying one of the infamous Phantom Thieves. Although, he couldn't complain, she was quite the impressive thief, having managed to steal his heart right out from under his nose.

Goro was currently lying alone on the bed in the hotel room he was staying at. Their wedding reception was going to be held at the Yoshiki-en Garden in Nara, Japan. His fiancée had practically begged him to have their wedding there. The garden was at its most beautiful during the spring time. But truth be told, Goro would've married her any where, even in that little hole in the wall, Leblanc.

The soon to be husband couldn't stop replaying everything that lead up to this moment.

How she had practically forced him to live with her during the whole Maruki conundrum. How she confessed her feelings to him in March when he returned. How he told her he loved her for the first time during their date to the cherry blossom festival in Tokyo. How he proposed to her in front of all of their friends 3 years later at that same cherry blossom festival.

He was so nervous for tomorrow, and yet so excited. He actually found someone who wanted to be with him for who he was, not because of his celebrity status. She knew about all of his flaws and his horrific past, but not once did she let him doubt her love for him. She worked so hard to support him while he went to therapy, to help him make amends with Futaba and Haru, to help him come to terms with the fact that he deserved a second chance.

A few years ago, he would've been terrified at the thought of having someone in his life like this, but now, he couldn't imagine his life without her.

-

The next thing he knew, he was being awakened by the sound of someone slamming their fists against his hotel room door. Akira Kurusu, Ryuji Sakamoto, and Yusuke Kitagawa were currently standing outside of his room, each with a black tux in hand. As well as Morgana, who was sitting on the floor next to Akira's feet, already wearing a cute little handmade formal black vest. They wanted to get ready with Goro, seeing as it was his big day and all.

A little ways down the hall, the group of boys could hear a group of girls squealing about marriage, dresses and romance. It was 8 A.M. and they were already so energetic. The groom and his groomsmen all laughed to themselves, they were excited as well. This was the first marriage in their friend group after all.

Akira, Goro's best man, mentioned that he should try to take as many mental photos as he could, because this day would go by in a blur. Goro believed him, one moment the boys were standing at his door, ready to get the day started, and the next they were all dressed and making their way to the venue.

The normally oh so composed Goro Akechi was sweating bullets. His hands were clammy and his throat was dry. Never in his life had he felt so nervous, so unprepared.

Before he knew it, it was suddenly 3 P.M. and the ceremony was beginning. Only your closest friends and family made up the audience. No media or paparazzi in sight. Goro shifted his weight from one leg to the other, he hadn't seen you all day. His heart raced as music began and you appeared in your gorgeous white wedding gown, Sojiro by your side, walking you down the aisle. He felt a hard lump forming in his throat at the sight of you. You always looked gorgeous to him, but in that moment, he truly believed that you were an angel sent from above.

A soft, teary eyed smile spread across his face as you made your way closer to him. He knew he'd be teased by the others for the rest of his life for crying while you walked down the aisle, but he didn't care. All that mattered, was that you were now standing before him, in a gown he never imagined he'd see you in. A warm, comforting smile made its way to your cheeks from behind your veil as you looked up into his eyes. It was taking all of his self control to not kiss you right then and there.

He could hear the officiant speaking about love and happiness, but he wasn't really listening. Goro was too busy taking as many mental pictures as he could fit into his brain. He only tuned back in when you brought up a small index card filled with writing. It was your vow to him.

"My dearest Goro. Never in a million years had I imagined that I would be spending the rest of my life with you, and to be honest, I'm pretty sure you had thought the same thing." You began, a light giggle coming from your throat. The Phantom Thieves, Sae and Sojiro also laughed, knowing what you meant by that. He had quite the troublesome past with the thieves after all. "Despite our differences in the past, I can't imagine being with anyone else. I vow to you that I'll work tirelessly to show you my love, to always be there for you, and to give you the home and family that you deserve." If he hadn't been so entranced by the way you looked while reading your vows to him, your words would've had him sobbing. "I love you Goro," He froze when your voice cracked, "I'm so happy that you're home." He knew what you meant by that. He remembered how devastated you looked when he told you that he might not have survived during Shido's palace, but he wouldn't dwell on the memory, he was with you now, right?

It was his turn. Shakily, he pulled out a card with his vows on it from his tux pocket. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he began. "Y/N, my love. I truly didn't believe that I would live long enough to find love like this. And you're right, never had I imagined that I would be marrying you of all people." He watched as you lifted a hand to your mouth and laughed, your eyes lit up as you did so, the other thieves snickering along with you. He was glad that you could all laugh about the past like this. It lifted a guilty weight off of his shoulders. "And yet, here I am, unable to picture this day any other way. These past few years, you've shown me a love that I've never known. Today, I vow to you that I'll spend the rest of my days finding ways to bring happiness to you, like you've brought to me. I vow that I'll protect you and cherish you with my entire being." He looked up momentarily, amazed by the fact that a single tear was making its way down your cheek. "I love you Y/N. It's good to be home." He watched as you nearly broke down at his last sentence. You took a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath.

The officiant started talking about your rings, but once again, Goro was too busy staring at you to listen. The sound of you squealing is what brought him back to reality. He watched as Morgana trotted down the aisle, carefully balancing a pillow on his head and carrying the rings to you both. You had a look of pure delight on your face, apparently, Akira had told you that Morgana wouldn't be able to make it because cats weren't allowed or something, but of course, your kitty friend wouldn't miss this day for the world.

Everyone in the audience cooed at the cat as he sat in front of you both with a smug grin on his face. You both reached down for the rings, your hand lingered for a moment to scratch the black cat on the head.

Goro melted into your touch when you took his hand so you could put the ring on his finger, it was a simple silver band with both of your initials engraved on the inside. Next, Goro delicately took your hand in his and slid the crown shaped wedding ring onto your left ring finger. He was the ace detective prince after all, marrying him made you his queen, right?

The officiant spoke a bit more before saying the words Goro had been waiting to hear all day. "I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Goro gently lifted the veil from your face, but before he could lean in, you had pushed yourself onto the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his, your arms making their way around his neck. You had been waiting just as long for this moment as he had. He quickly slipped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him, reveling in the feeling of your lips.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd as you two pulled away. "I love you Goro Akechi." You whispered, only loud enough for him to hear. "I love you too, Y/N Akechi." His response was just as quiet as yours. Saying your first name with his last name did funny things to his heart. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to it, not that he minded. It would be a reminder that someone out there truly did love him.

The rest of the night was a blur for Goro. His most prominent memories of the night were of Sojiro sobbing when he danced with you, Morgana and Futaba arguing over who got to dance with you next, Ann screaming when she caught the bouquet of flowers you had thrown, and the way you looked, swaying slowly in his arms to a song he didn't know the lyrics to, but you knew every word. He wasn't even sure if he got to eat a slice of the expensive wedding cake that he had paid for.

By the time you both made it to the bridal suite, you were exhausted. Goro was barely able to get your wedding dress off of you before you passed out on the bed. He did his best to carefully remove your makeup so you wouldn't have to worry about it in the morning. He couldn't help but stare at you for a bit as you laid beside him, the light from the moon making your skin glow. His mind was ready to burst from how many mental photos he had taken throughout the day.

Gently, as to not disturb you, he wrapped you in his arms and drifted to sleep while going over the memories he had of this day.

-

5 years.

You and Goro have been married for 5 years now. Goro couldn't deny that he was happy to wake up next to you every day.

However, today was different. He knew that you had planned to meet up with the girls for an early breakfast, but you didn't wake him up to say goodbye. Usually, on the rare occasions that you would have to leave your shared house before he woke up, you'd wake him up and give him a kiss goodbye.

He had noticed that you had been a bit distant lately, and he couldn't help but worry. Were you falling out of love with him? Were you cheating on him? Was it something worse? His mind filled with all sorts of negative questions and concerns in an attempt to figure out why you were acting the way you were.

Goro waited for you on the couch in your home, planning on confronting you about your strange behavior when you got back. In the 8 years that you've been together, you've never once done something like this, so he was incredibly scared.

The familiar jingle of keys and turning of the lock on the front door signaled your safe arrival home. He watched you freeze for a moment when you made eye contact with him, uncertainty and nervousness clouding your once bright eyes. Goro raised an eyebrow, despite the fear that coursed through his veins.

You took a deep breath before approaching him silently, once in front of him, you dug around in your purse for a moment, before handing him a small white box with a red ribbon tied around it. He stared at the box, shocked as you took a seat beside him. Goro could feel you staring at him, burning a hole into the side of his head. A... gift? This wasn't what he was expecting at all.

"Well?" Your voice sounded so small. Were you afraid of something? He took a moment to look at you before untying the ribbon and opening the box, inside sat three pregnancy tests. Each one testing positive. It took a moment for his brain to process this information. You were pregnant, with his child. That's why you had been so distant. The two of you almost never talked about kids. Due to his traumatic past, Goro believed that he would never be a good father, even with all of the therapy and support from you, he could never see himself being one.

"You're pregnant." He breathed, still staring at the pregnancy tests. "Yeah." You sounded so tired, sad even. Despite his original negative stance on becoming a father, he couldn't help but feel joy. He was going to be the father of your child. He was being given the chance to start a family of his own.

Slowly, he turned towards you, staring down at your stomach. You weren't really showing yet. "Well?" You repeated. Your voice shook, on the verge of tears. Goro didn't respond with words, he just leaned forwards and pushed you into the couch, his arms wrapped around your back and his face pressed into your stomach. He couldn't stop the sob that escaped his lips. He never could've imagined this. Despite his initial fears, he would do his best to be the greatest father that he could be.

Your body shook as you began sobbing as well, one hand gripping the back of his head and the other resting against his back, holding him as he cried.

"I'm going to be a dad?" He cried into your stomach, needing to confirm that this was real. "You're going to be a dad, and an amazing one at that." Your response was so genuine, it made it impossible for him to believe otherwise.

His wish of being loved, of being needed, had really come true.

[lettrespromises]

#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification. ──➤ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋!

> Kita Shinsuke sent you a letter, would you like to read it? #CC of the letter directed to : @babythotshq​.

──➤ #𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff. ─➤ #𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 : Hallmark movie marathon. ➤ #𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none.

letter from the author :  ❝dear reader, dear @sachirou-senpai​,  this piece is my participation for the babythots winter wonderland collab and also the occasion to wish you, ellie, the merriest christmas of them all (although i’m late.) i’m hoping this letter will warm your heart, i loved writing every bit of it and couldn’t stop thinking about whether or not you were going to like it. i adore you.  sealed with a kiss,  nikki, your secret santa.❞

The table in the living room had become the metaphorical throne for all sorts of garments— amongst them, a pile of candies and other diverse kinds of sweets gained the omnipotency of the attention because, after all, what could be a movie marathon without the inexorable stack of candies which followed? It would be like breaking a silent tradition, movies (whatever the kind of movie for that matter) and snacks went hand in hand together like an unspoken rule. But just when you thought the messy pyramid of sweets on the table wasn’t enough, your glance fell on the figure of your boyfriend holding a bowl of popcorn freshly taken out of the pan where they had exploded like a myriad of fireworks just a few minutes ago. His hold was so careful, a true reflection of his own personality, after all. « Shinsuke, love, don’t you think we have enough snacks right now? » You half-questioned, your gaze flickering between the ridiculous amount of sweets on the table and the incredulous look painted on his face.

« If there is one thing I learned from the movie nights with the rest of the volleyball team, aside from knowing how to break up a fight with the twins, is that there is never enough snacks. » Touché. And he knew that he was right by the way a hint of a grin manifested itself amidst his facial features.

« I mean, when you’re putting it like that, it’s not like I can resist, right? » You half-asked, knowing this question had every characteristic of a rhetorical question. You just wanted to drown yourself in a paradise of sweets, drown by sugar, and snuggle close to your boyfriend. Whilst you were holding the TV remote in your right hand, the left one was busy patting the vacant spot next to you on the couch, explicitly inviting the salt and pepper haired man to sit next to you and find himself the victim of your ceaseless waves of love. Kita did as you told wordlessly, and took a sit next to you as you felt the cushion deepen a bit at the newly added weight, but his presence was already comforting you.

« Are you ready for the marathon? Because once we start, there’s no stopping! » The words poured from you mouth in a continuous flow of enthusiasm, your orbs moving onto his credulous expression which quickly morphed into a faded smile at the sudden realization of spending so much time with you and you only.

« You make it sound like something alarming. Should I be worried, dear? » Kita tilted his head back to face you, the grin on his face deepened to dig into his cheeks and let appear a pair of precious dimples, fine lines blooming at the corner of his eyes.

« There’s nothing to worry about as long as I’m here, just stuff your face with sweets, cuddle me and watch these good ol’ cliché movies with me. » There’s nothing he could complain about. He reckoned himself that he had neglected his time dedicated to you to invest it in volleyball-related activities, but without stating the obvious, he much preferred spending time with you rather than hear the continuous bickering of the twins.

« Right. Nothing to worry about as long as you’re here. » He repeated without any real kind of purpose, planting these words into your skin by kissing your temple as if he was sealing a promise. Like a reminder to himself, if you will.

Your fingertips soon found the right combination on the remote to find the very first movie of the marathon ahead of you, your digits moved mechanically without second thinking, as if you had practiced these moves over and over again whilst waiting for Kita to spend this night with you.

The screen of the TV was soon colored by a whole spectrum of colors gravitating around the color scheme of Christmas, an accord of red, white, green and gold. But even with the distraction and the colorful explosions on the screen, Kita had still his hazel eyes set on you, a gleam of genuine adoration dancing in the corner of his irises. And why of course, no one could truly ignore his glance, and even when he was looking at you with metaphorical hearts in his eyes, you still felt a pressure weighing on your shoulders. You looked up to him, a brow raised to emphasize wordlessly your interrogation.

« It’s nothing. » He said, having already picked up on your silent question and so your eyes darted back to the screen, « you’re insanely beautiful », he whispered to no one but himself, yet another vocal reminder of how lucky he was.

But the more the scenes arrived and went away, the more you felt your body lean on Kita. He felt the urge to adapt his hold on you to your new position, bowing his right arm so he could welcome you in the warmth emanating from his chest and thus challenge the fireplace. Your cranium was laying between his shoulder and his collarbone, a soft balance where your head fit just fine.

But regardless of the parts of his anatomy, your body parts always seemed to fit perfectly with his. The latter reminded Kita of an old tale his grandmother used to tell him and how lovers, a long time ago, used to be one. But the Gods were so jealous of their powers and love that they decided to separate them, and since their natural form had been cut in two, each one longed for its own other half for all of their life, and so they would throw their arms around each other, weaving themselves together, wanting to grow together.

Truthfully, Kita did not pay one bit attention to the movie. He memorized some of the characters, surely, but all he could think about was how well you were fitting in his arms, how poetic this embrace was, how you were molded just for him and how you were molded just for him. And whilst still thinking about this myth, he was sure that he was your soulmate in another life.

Before he could even realize it, the second movie had started, and he could’ve sworn to himself that it was the same plot… Or was it? Oh well, he was going to pay attention this time, it was a promise to both himself and you. His hold tightened a bit around you, accustoming to the way he had straightened up himself to adopt a position perfect to focus solely on the movie.

It’s safe to say that he was absorbed. He had made mental maps of who was who and how this character was linked to another, hell, he was even already guessing what was bound to happen in the rest of the movie. Kita focused so intensely that it seemed that the noise emanating from the screen had cancelled out the sound of your soft snores, after all, his heartbeats were the perfect lullaby to fall asleep.

You looked so at peace, your dreams were surely the guardians of your quietude, and he had least hoped that he was in one of them. His fingertips brushed ever so softly against the crown of your hair, each motion was calculated not to wake you up, and it’s like he fell in love with you all over again.

« Because once we start, there’s no stopping, you said. Well, my love, it looks like you met your own end. » Kita’s words were mere whispers thrown into the quietude of the reigning atmosphere.

He solely needed to move his hands behind your thighs to put you in a position which would make it easier for him to carry you, those thoughts soon became reality as he was now holding you, a forearm secured behind your thighs whilst his other hand traveled from the nape of your neck to meet his other palm. He had never been so cautious in his life, after all, your slumber was at stake. And each step he took on the stairs was as quiet as the vacuity in outer space.

Kita’s hand gained its original spot back on your neck as he began to close the distance between your asleep form and the mattress, protecting your neck just like how you’d protect the neck of a newborn to avoid any harsh movement. And there you were, in your most serene before his eyes after a poor attempt at challenging him for a hallmark movie marathon.

You woke up the next morning, the sudden feeling of hot trails left by Kita’s hold on you that night awakened at the same time as you, and although your vision was blurry from the sudden adjustment to the lightening and the intrusion of the rays of sunshine which had pierced through your curtains, you could discern a foreign presence on your nightstand amidst your distorted vision of reality.

You blinked once. Then twice. And smile at the realization.

It was a basket composed of fruits, tea bags, water and other kinds of bakeries his grandma must have surely given him. But the most drastic detail was the note he had left along with the rest, in that detailed lettering of his :

« My love, make sure you eat your breakfast properly. I am looking forward to the second half of the movie marathon tonight with you. I love you.

Signed : Kita, your boyfriend. P.S : you are safe as long as you are with me, too. »

[howtosingit]

Fic: don’t wanna lose me, don’t wanna lose you

Carlos drives TK home after their date.

*

A missing moment from 1x03.

1.7K | Also on AO3

- - - - - -

They’re both quiet in the car on the way back to TK’s place, letting the music on the radio fill the otherwise silent space between them.

Carlos isn’t really sure what to think. He had been nervous to ask TK out again after the failed dinner at his place, but something about the way the firefighter smiled at him as he left the police station made Carlos want to try again. Their conversation at his desk spoke volumes, with Carlos realizing that TK’s intense reaction hadn’t really been about him at all, but more about his past. TK seemed to be fighting his own demons and instead of scaring Carlos away, it just made  him want to suit up and fight by his side.

His mom always said his big, selfless heart was going to destroy him one day. Now, Carlos wonders how she could’ve possibly anticipated TK Strand; he certainly didn’t.

He’d planned a casual date, not wanting to overwhelm TK again. The bar felt public and open enough to keep the other man from feeling cornered, and Carlos knew there would be familiar faces around in case TK needed to escape again.

(Not that he had actually planned for that to happen, but he really had no idea what to expect.)

What he had not anticipated was some kind of work-related falling-out between TK and Judd. The presence of the older man had set TK off the minute they walked in the bar, his body growing tense and guarded as a heated anger seemed to boil right underneath his skin. Carlos had initially been curious to find out what was going on, but after a full 30 minutes of TK only ranting about Judd, his patience had started to wane. 

He finally got through to TK, and the rest of their date had been fine. TK was tragically terrible at darts, but his natural competitiveness led them to playing for a full hour. After his sixth loss, TK had begrudgingly admitted defeat, a scowl clouding his beautiful features.

Through it all, they talked. Nothing too deep, just the basic getting-to-know-you stuff: why they picked their jobs, how they felt about their families, and of course, how they discovered they were gay. As he drives, Carlos fondly remembers the ten-minute argument over the best sitcom in history - TK had argued for The Office, while he chose the classic I Love Lucy. The conversation had ended in a draw, through Carlos fully intended to revisit it in the future. 

Now, turning onto TK’s street, Carlos wonders if they’ll ever get the chance to argue about TV shows again. It’s not that the quiet between them is awkward - in fact, if not for the fact that the date was kind of all over the place, it would be kind of comfortable. There’s a familiarity to sharing space with TK, like it’s just what he’s meant to do. Except, the date was all over the place, and now Carlos doesn’t know what to make of TK’s silence. 

He pulls into the driveway, putting the car in park and switching off the ignition. The music keeps playing, content to continue until one of them opens the door. Carlos briefly glances to his right, watching as TK stares up at the house he shares with his dad. His face is in profile, his sharp features thrown into stunning relief. The firefighter pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, clearly lost in his thoughts, and Carlos wants nothing more than to run his finger along the line of TK’s mouth, to remove the obvious stress that weighs on the other man.

Instead, he folds his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs as his heart begins to race. He has no idea what happens next, but he knows it’s TK’s choice to make. 

“I had a really good time tonight,” TK says softly a few minutes later, finally breaking the silence. The sentiment is so unexpected and so at odds with the current atmosphere inside the car, that Carlos can’t help but let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. “What?” TK asks, and Carlos turns to find him wearing a confused expression.

“You don’t have to lie, TK,” Carlos says, leaning back against the headrest as he stares over at the other man. “I’d much rather you just be honest with me.”

“I am being honest,” TK says, his voice firm. 

Carlos stares at him for a moment, captivated by the way his blue-green eyes shine in the semi-darkness. “Okay,” he says, giving him a nod.

TK huffs out a breath, his hand coming up to rub at his forehead. Then, seemingly coming to a decision, he looks back towards Carlos, his face set. “Walk me up?” he asks.

Instead of answering, Carlos pulls his keys from the ignition, reaching for the door. The music cuts out as he climbs from the car, circling around to join TK on the passenger side. He’s surprised when the other man leans into his side, wrapping his fingers around Carlos’s bicep as they begin to make their way up the front path. 

“I’m sorry,” TK begins, as they climb the few steps up to the porch, “for kind of being all over the place tonight.”

“You don’t have to apologize, TK,” Carlos assures him, stopping in front of the door and turning to face him. “I said I wanted to get to know you, and that means all of you. Even your work drama.”

“Do you really think Judd was right?” TK asks him for the second time this evening, though less aggressive than the first. Carlos stares at him, wondering how to handle the question. “Be honest with me,” TK says, repeating his words from earlier.

“I think,” Carlos starts, choosing his words carefully, “that you and Judd can learn a lot from one another. You’ve both had very different lives, had very different experiences on the job, and you’ve both learned a lot from them. I think if the two of you found a way to be on the same side, you’d be pretty unstoppable together. But,” he continues, a smirk pulling at his lips as he brings a hand up to rest against TK’s cheek, “you both have to lose the hard heads, or you’ll just wind up in a never-ending bullfight.”

He shifts, balling his hand into a fist as he gently knocks it against TK’s skull. TK rolls his eyes as he lets out a laugh, reaching up to grab Carlos’s hand. He lets their joined hands fall between them, linking their fingers together. 

“Can I make another observation?” Carlos asks after a moment, his heart pounding in his throat.

TK nods, letting their hands swing gently between them.

“It kind of seems like this move to Texas has been a really big change for you, in a lot of ways,” Carlos says, trying not to sound patronizing. He’s just trying to be realistic about this. “And even without all of the stuff that you left behind in New York, it would be a lot to handle.” He takes a deep breath, working up the nerve to say what they both need to hear. “I’m just not sure I know where I fit into all of that.”

He watches as TK visibly swallows, his eyes moving to look everywhere but directly at Carlos.

“I’m not trying to make a decision for you,” Carlos assures him. “I’m just saying…” he hesitates, trying not to be pushy. TK tightens his grip on Carlos’s hand, a reassuring action. “I guess I’m just saying that there’s no pressure here, with you and me,” he finishes, unsure if he’s made his point clearly. 

TK takes a step closer, bringing his free hand up to cup Carlos’s cheek. “I think you’re right,” TK says, his voice gentle between them. “As much as I wish it wasn’t true, my life is… a mess right now. You don’t deserve to have to deal with that.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, TK,” Carlos states defensively, bringing his own hand up to cover TK’s, keeping him close. “I’m not running away from you, that’s not who I am. I would just hate to be someone who adds to the stress when I think we’re both mature enough to avoid it. Does that make sense?” 

“It does make sense, even if it sucks,” TK agrees, his eyes somehow growing softer. “I meant it when I said I had a good time tonight. You really do help to pull me out of head, and I need that sometimes.”

Carlos nods. “That doesn’t have to change,” he reminds him. “You have my number, whenever you need it. I’m not running away, TK, and I’ll be here.”

“That sounds a bit like a friendship, Reyes,” TK hedges, stroking his thumb against Carlos’s cheek; he feels his skin heat up under TK’s touch. 

“It can be, if that’s what you want,” Carlos assures him, turning his head to press a kiss to TK’s palm before dropping their hands between them. “You should know, though, that if we’re going to do this, you have to watch I Love Lucy reruns with me. I have friendship standards, Strand, and that’s a non-negotiable requirement,” he jokes.

TK ducks his head, laughing as he steps back, letting their hands finally disconnect. They stand before one another, two men separated by a harsh wall of reality and bad-timing. 

“I like the sound of that,” TK whispers, a smile softening the resignation in his voice. 

They stare at one another for a moment, letting their decision envelop them. A part of Carlos aches to reach out and touch TK; he knows that, after tonight, he might not get the chance to hold him again. But, a larger part of him knows that they’ve made the right choice, so he can’t regret it. This is for the best.

“I should go,” he finally says, digging his hands into his pockets to keep them away from TK. He turns, stepping off the porch and onto the front path. 

“Good night, Carlos,” TK says, his voice carrying easily through the still night air. Carlos pauses, turning back to give him a wave.

“Good night, TK,” he says back, a forced smile on his lips. 

It’ll get easier, he thinks, as he turns to keep walking. 

He knows it will.

[collecting-stories]

California - John B Routledge

Request: Heyy! I really enjoy your writing, and I was wondering if I could request something with John B with either the prompt "I want to marry you" or "I'm in love with you"? Thanks!

A/N: I managed to fit both of these prompts in here...it’s definitely AU

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

Even though Pope had been talking about it for years and John B knew that you thought about it all the time, the idea of college seemed like a distant reality. In his mind it would always be summer and you guys would always be teenagers, going out on the HMS Pogue, surfing, partying at the bone yard, dumb adventures around the island. Time felt like it stood still in the OBX, at least it had until you and Pope and Kiara graduated. JJ had already dropped out and John B had fallen off the grid after Big John died but three out of five wasn’t so bad.  

John B was still pretending like everything was going to be normal. Pogue life wasn’t coming to an end but it was changing, you’d be gone in just a few months and John B’s denial wasn’t making it any easier. You’d asked him to come help you pack up your room, you were moving 3000 miles away, too far to pop over on weekends and your mom wanted you to clean out some of the ‘junk’ she claimed you weren’t letting go of.  

“At least they have surfing out there, and a beach.” JJ had been surprisingly positive about the idea, more so when you offered the possibility of a road trip all the way there to drop you off. Kie and Pope would already be going to school but you, JJ and John B could get in one last adventure before the you were sequestered across the country.  

But John B had no input on the proposed road trip or your leaving. He agreed to come over and help you pack but so far had done little more than sit on your bed playing with an old slinky that you’d found in a box under the bed.  

“Do you think I should pack like, a nice dress or something?” You were on clothes duty, two suitcases laid out on the ground as you tried to decide what Standford required of you.  

“For what?” John B stretched the slinky up above his head and then dropped it, watching the plastic spirals compress.  

“I dunno, what if I go to a party or something?” You asked, looking through the clothes still hanging in your closet.  

JJ was convinced that you and John B were endgame. Kiara and Pope were convinced too. And half the island, who all seemed certain that you were somehow destined to be those kids who stayed together forever, because a majority of the time your only identity was ‘John B’s girlfriend’. But all that aside there was no indication from the boy himself about where he thought your relationship was headed. You had told him that you loved him before graduation but he’d clammed up and not said it in return. If you were going away though, traveling 3000 miles and not coming home until Christmas, you wanted some clarity about your relationship. Things were changing but all that change didn’t have to be bad.  

“Sure. Pack it.”  

“You’re not helpful.” You groaned, tossing a dress on the growing pile of clothes.  

“You asked me to come over...here I am.”  

“Well what’s the point of coming over if you didn’t want to be here?”

“Oh I’m sorry that I’m not more enthusiastic about my best friend packing up and leaving!” John B snapped, tossing the slinky across the room and slumping further against the wall. “You know Kie’s going to NCS.”  

“I know.”  

“It’s a good school.”  

“I’ve wanted to go to Stanford my whole life!” You knew that John B would do this. Pope was going out of state but not so far away and Kiara was still in North Carolina. It was you, you were breaking up the pogues. You were ditching your friends.  

“Who gives a shit about friends huh?”  

“So what, I’m supposed to give up the best opportunity I have because you say so? How fucking selfish can you be?”  

“I’m selfish? You’re going-“

“I know! I fucking know John. I don’t know what you want me to do?”

“Stay.” He pleaded, “stay here. Go to NCS or something but stay here. I’m in love with you. You can’t just leave.”  

“You know I love you, I have made it so obvious. And I have factored you into every decision I made, you think I didn’t sit on this for months trying to decide what to do? This is what I’ve wanted forever, this is my best shot and it’s not gonna come around again. I can’t throw that away just because you want me to stay in North Carolina. I’m sorry, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to stay.” You faltered at the end, trying not to cry in front of him.  

John B climbed off your bed, grabbing the hoodie he’d thrown over your office chair earlier, and stormed out, slamming the door. You stood there staring for a while, eyes focused on the calendar hanging on the back of your door. It was July now, creeping closer to the day you were set to leave. You didn’t want an argument with John B looming over your departure but you knew how stubborn he was.  

An army couldn’t move him if he didn’t want to be moved.  

That was evident enough when it took him over a week to finally talk to you again. You had tried to call him, you’d even gone to the Chateau on multiple occasions looking for him but he refused to speak to you. At least until Kiara reminded him that you had less than a month left with them and if he didn’t do something now he’d lose you. When he finally came around you were almost completely packed.  

“What?” And less than happy to see him.  

“Can I come in?” He stood on the porch, uncomfortable and wet from the rain, “please, I just want to talk.”

You opened the screen door, standing aside so he could come into your house. You said nothing as you led him into the kitchen and started to make coffee.

“I meant what I said, I am in love with you, it wasn’t just bullshit to make you stay.”  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you replied, “you know how I feel.”  

“I’m just...freaked out.”  

“You think I’m not terrified to leave? It’s been you guys and the OBX and ‘pogue life’ forever. I’ve always wanted to go to Stanford but what if I hate it? What do I do when I can’t sleep at night? I can’t just show up at the chateau. I don’t want to make new friends. I don’t want to be thousands of miles away but this is my dream school. This is, everything I’ve worked for.” You replied, feeling the catch in your throat as you tried not to cry.  

“Don’t factor me in then.”  

“What?”

“You said you factored me in to every decision, don’t. Let me factor you in. I know all your arguments but I don’t care, I want to marry you. Go to Stanford but let me come with you.”  

“You’re serious? What about-“  

“Nothing here matters if you’re gone.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring, “I found my mom’s ring with all my dad’s stuff. I don’t know if it’ll fit, and you, ya know, have to say yes first-“

“Yes, John B.” You nodded. The tears you’d been trying to fight off were spilling down your cheeks.  

“Seriously?”  

“Seriously.”  

The ring was a little loose on your finger but John B didn’t care as he slipped it on. You held the back of his neck as you drew him into a kiss. You had been positive when he’d left your house over a week ago that it was over, that you would leave North Carolina alone. This was so much better than you could’ve imagined though.  

“Wait, Wait,” you pulled away, looking at him, “what about the chateau?”

“Miss Lana said she’d check in on it while we’re gone.” John replied, “which reminds me...I may’ve promised JJ that he could come out to California with us.”  

“I should’ve known...sometimes I feel like I’m dating both of you.”  

-

Taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @pogue-h

[pixie88]

Making Amends

Chapter 18 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I’m going to try and start editing and publishing 2 chapters a week (Next will be out Thursday as we are away this weekend for my LO’s birthday) as I have 6 drafts in ATB and 3 drafts in Addicted to You (Series 2 of ATB) Obviously if you wish to stop reading after series 1 I completely understand just let me know if you like to be untagged. Now offence taken. I hope you like it.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Little Angst.

Word Count: 2608

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

Laila just sat and listened to Zeppy for over an hour "Do you want my honest opinion?" Laila stokes her hair, she nods "I think you need to put yourself first, not your Mum, Dad or even Jade....You! If that means cutting Vicky out of your life then so be it"

She sits up "But Mum...Jade says you should forgive people's mistakes!" Laila hands her a tissue from her dresser "But you can only give someone so many chance. I get she is your Mum, but sometimes we give family more chances than we do anyone else and they expect it" Zeppy sighs knowing Laila is right.

There's a light knock on the bedroom door, Nate pokes his head in "Everything OK?" he asks, Zeppy smiles then looks at Laila "Yeah, Auntie Leia gave me some advice" Laila gets up "Why do you tell your Dad about it? I'm going to head home. If you need me just give me a call" Zeppy nods as Nate walks further into the bedroom "Thanks!" Nate smiles at her.

She says her goodbyes and makes her way home.

~*~*~*~

A few days later Laila is at work, she has clients back to back. Daniel just sends each one through, she's cleaning her hair clippers when the next client comes over and takes a seat. "Hey, I'll be with you in a minute," she throws over her shoulder not even looking at her client "OK, take all the time you need" he says in a cheery tone.

She knew that voice, they hadn't spoken since the incident in his flat, she turned "Rem? What are you doing here?" he offers her a regretful smile, "I know I had an appointment tomorrow after you finished work, but I didn't think you would turn up, so I rang up the salon booked myself in for today. Plus, I wanted to apologies for how I acted the other day, I was out of line...way out of line! I hope you'll accept my apology and if you feel the need to you can take it out on my hair I will happily accept if it means you will forgive me!"

Laila laughs at him as she throws the gown over him and wrapping her arms around him "Look, I understand you were upset, so there's nothing to forgive!" he smiles up at her in the mirror "Thank god!! I've hated not having you to speak to...You know its hard to get advice when the person you always go to for advice is the one you need advice for! Alec put me in my place soon after you left!"

She laughs, "Rem!! I don't want to know what you get up to!" she jokes making him chuckle. She feels like a weight has been lifted, she has her best friend back. She curious to know what he's going to do about Melissa, but she's too scared to ask because she doesn't want to upset him. "I can see your mind ticking over, I've known you too long to know when your thinking about something"

"Rem...." he smiles, but rolls his eyes, "You want to know what I'm going to do about my mot..I mean Melissa!" he raises a brow at her "I'll meet her, but just once to see what she wants and that's it! Can I ask you something?" she nods at him "Do you think she's serious?" she lets out a breath "She said her friend suddenly died and it made her realise, if that was her...her kids wouldn't be at her funeral. I think she wants just wants a chance. She seemed upset she didn't know you had gotten married. It's weird after I left yours the other day I went to Nate's and while I was there I was trying to convince Zeppy to stop giving Vicky anymore chances"

"Oh? What's happened with Vicky?" Laila shook her head "What's always up with her!"

"Oh, poor Zeppy! Why won't Vicky learn?! She won't stick around if she's on the gear again!" Laila starts trimming his hair "I know, but they say addiction is an illness" Rem's shook her head "We can only hope Zeppy has taken your advice and it makes Vicky realise what she could lose" Laila nod "Hmm..can only hope"

Later that evening.

Laila is putting the finishing touches to her makeup when her buzzer rings. She knew it was Harry, so she buzzes him up and leaves the front door open and runs back to the bedroom to finish up. "Gorgeous?" he calls out "In the bedroom" she calls back.

He pokes his head through the doorway "Are you ready?" he smiles at her "I think so. Do I look OK?" she is wearing a khaki cut off sleeved shirt dress which wasn't long enough to wear without bottoms, so she picked a pair of black trousers and gold and black wedge sandals. "You look perfect," she was nervous he could tell especially considering the last time she had seen Colin and Rose she had called him a miserable old git.

They had made a mends after that, but she still felt incredibly nervous, but this belated birthday meal was Colin's idea. She looks over herself in the mirror one last time, Harry steps behind her, his arm wrapping around her waist and kisses her bare shoulder "No need to be nervous! He knows not to say anything out of line again, but if he does believe me...I won't stand for it" she smiles at his reflection in the mirror before turning in his arms.

"Oh, guess who came into the salon today?!" he knew who by her smile, but he wanted to tease her "Antony Joshua?" she laughs, "No! Rem!" she's beaming "I take it you two have made up then?"

"Yep, all made up!" he kisses the top of her head "Thank god for that," he chuckles "Ready to go?" he asks her "I think so!" he takes her hand and they make their way to the restaurant in Harry's car.

When they get to the restaurant Colin and Rose are already there as they approach the table Laila takes a deep breath "Laila, Harry" Rose gets up from her seat hugging them both "Hi Rose.." "Mum, little too tight!" Harry jokes as she lets go and they all take their seat "Dad" Harry nods at Colin "Colin, Hi!" she smiles "You alright?" he asks them both. "Yeah, thanks, you?" Laila asks her nerves are still going a hundred miles per hour.

"Great! Thanks! How was your birthday? Oh, and Happy belated Birthday!" he says. Laila's thrown he is completely different from the last time they saw him "Happy birthday!" Rose says as she passes over an envelope "Thanks, yeah it was great thanks! Better than I could've imagined" she's cut off by Rose "What did Harry get you?"

Laila's hand automatically goes to her locket, Rose leans over to take a closer look, "Can I open it?" she asks "Yeah, of course" Rose flips it open and coos at the picture "Aww, that is an adorable photo of you both!" Colin leans over to have a look "It's a good one" he comments.

They both sit down "Open your card!" Rose tells her. Opening the envelope and folded up bit of paper falls out, inside it reads:

To Lovely Laila,

Happy Birthday!

We hope you had a great day!

Love Rose & Colin x

P.S. We didn't know what to get you, so we thought this might be nice for you both to enjoy. x

Opening the folded paper its a photo of an old cottage, she looks up at Rose and Colin confused, Harry, take the paper from her to take a closer look, "What's this?" Harry asks his parents "So we didn't know what to get you, so we thought maybe you to might like a free week away in our little cottage in the Cotswold's. Obviously you two can chose any week you want just let us know a few weeks ahead! Harry, don't go telling your brothers or sister!"

"Why?" he chuckles "Because they will all want a week there and I don't trust they won't trash the place" Colin shook his head "I promise we won't trash the place and thank you that's so thoughtful!" the waiter comes over to take their drinks order, Harry leans in close enough so only she can hear "Can't say the same about the bed" he whispers making her blush.

After the starter Rose and Colin are telling them all about their time away in Rome "You have to take Laila there one day!" Rose tells her son. "It's beautiful! Laila, I keep meaning to ask do you cut men's hair?" Colin surprisingly asks her "Yeah, I do"

"She's my hairdresser now" Harry winks at her "Great, do you think you could fit me in?" Colin looks over to her "Erm..yeah, sure when are you free?" She's not sure if this is a joke or not but Colin has done a 360 since the last time. "Weekends probably work out better for me"

She smiles "I work every other Saturday in the salon, but I can come to you if it's easier?" She asks him nervously "3 weeks from now work? At our house?" Laila pulls out her phone that's Saturday is her weekend off "Perfect, any time preference?"

He checks his phone "Shall we say 11 AM then we'll do lunch?" Laila can't quite believe he's asking her to do his hair "Yeah, that would be great!" she's still taken aback by it. Maybe this is him trying to build bridges? She thought.

"Laila?" she hears someone call out from behind him as she looks up, it's Lou, she smiles and gets up to greet her "Lou, how are you?" she asks as she hugs her. Laila's happy that they're at this point.. 6 months ago, Laila could never imagine even looking in Lou's direction, let alone hugging her "Sorry, Louise, this is Rose and Colin, Rose and Colin this is Louise and obviously you've met Harry, they're his parents"

"Oh how lovely to meet you!" Louise smiles "And you!" Rose says as Colin just smiles at her "Laila, you wouldn't mind coming over to our table and saying hello to Steve would you? He'd love to see you!"

"Oh..erm OK!" she looks at Harry "I'll be 2 minutes!" he winks back at her. She felt a bit nervous she hadn't seen Steve in years because she thought it was best to stay away after everything happened considering she might have just let it slip to him out of anger, but now was different she understood why Lou did what she did it. Which was all thanks to Harry, in some ways she had changed for the better because of him, he had made her more forgiving.

Now, instead of blaming her, she gratefully Josh's last day's weren't his worst days. She had seen how cancer can change someone with her Grandad Carelli, he went from running every day with his granddaughter to being to weak too lift a fork.

As they approach the table Steve looks up noticing Laila his face lights up "Laila! Oh wow! It's so good to see you!!" he beams at her.

She smiles back at him.

Back at their table.

Colin looks to where Laila is "Who is this Louise to Laila?" Rose looks over to Harry. He knew what he could and couldn't say, "She's Laila's ex fiancé's Mum" Colin looks shocked "And she's gone over to see him?!" Harry could see his Dad disapproval "No! Steve is his Dad" Rose doesn't know what to say "You're OK with her being friendly with her ex's parents?" Colin almost hisses.

"Yes, I am! Because quite frankly, being jealous of a ghost is a bit ridiculous!" Harry could see the confusion on their face "Laila, ex fiancé died of cancer," he knew he couldn't say anymore than that "Oh god! That poor girl!" Rose is shocked, Colin is speechless "Now can you see why I'm more than happy for her to be friendly with her ex's parents? Even if he was a living ex I would be fine with it because I trust Laila!"

"I can see why...she is a lovely girl" Harry has never heard his Dad say anything like that about any of his girlfriends, but he just put that down to Laila being able to win anyone over because that was the kinda girl she is.

At Lou and Steve's table.

"You know we all missed you after the funeral. You just kinda disappeared" Steve's words make her drown in guilt "Hey! It was hard for all of us Steve, you have to remember she lost someone she was going to marry. We were probably a constant reminder of what she had lost" Louise tries to make excuses for Laila. She's thankful for this "I guess Lou is right! Sorry Laila!"

"You have nothing to be sorry for Steve....honestly, it's like Lou said and to be honest, I needed to grieve by myself," she smiles at him "How are you nowadays?"

"I'm good actually....I'm here with my boy....my boyfriend and his parents," she hated telling him this, but she was already keeping something from him plus surely he didn't expect her never to find anyone after Josh. "Aww, that's sweet! How long have you 2 been together?" he seemed happy for her which was a relief to her "I asked him to be my boyfriend over 2 months ago now" Steve howls "Why doesn't that surprise me! Josh always said if you wanted something you would go out and get it"

She laughs, "He is the first relationship I've had since Josh to be fair!" Lou coos "Does he make you happy?" Lou asks her "You know what he makes me incredibly happy actually," she looks over to Harry, his eyes catch hers and he throws her a wink making her blush. "I'm happy for you! You deserve to be happy...that's all Josh would have wanted for you!" Lou offers her a soft smile.

"Speaking of my boyfriend, I better get back to him! It was lovely seeing you both," she says as she gets up both Steve and Lou hug her.

She makes her way back to Harry and his parents, "Here she is!" Harry smiles and wraps an arm over her shoulder as she sits. The rest of the meal is relaxed and easy.

After they say their goodbyes to his parents, they make their way back to Laila's flat.

When they arrive the front door has been kicked in, worried someone might still be inside Harry tells Laila to call the police and he heads inside. Laila grabs his arm "Harry..."

"Laila, I'll be fine! I just want to check they're not still in there," he pushes the door open and makes his way inside.. he first checks the kitchen, when he hears someone behind him. He spins round, it's Laila holding her handbag like she's about to whack someone "Laila! Go and wait outside!" he whispers "What? and leave you to get attacked? No! Plus I have my bag! Never underestimate a women's handbag!"

"Fine! Just stay close!" he knew there was no point in arguing with her, so he continues to check all the rooms. Each have been ransacked, when they got to the living room on the wall in red spray paint were Cut her out of your life..

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 19.

@ridgy--didge​ @lem-20​ @secretaryunpaid​ @irisofpurple​ @khoicesbyk​ @txemrn​ @tea-me-kah​ @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer​ @casualpostqueen​ @beautifuluknownvoid​

[sepublic]

Sorry about the double ask so here's a fun idea, Emperor Belos wrote The Good Witch Azura books. Like he wrote them in his younger years before becoming a parasitic tyrant. - Pixel Anon

           That seems like it’d be the perfect opportunity to segue into a lesson about Death of the Author, which- Given Sense and Insensitivity, and how this show already discusses how fiction affects reality and connects with it… Would be VERY refreshing to see, especially as a moral that I don’t really see other kids’ shows exploring! I do recall OK KO bringing it up with the Hero Cards not representing Kappas, but the more the merrier. It’d also be fitting to discuss Death of the Author, and separating a work from a terrible creator- Given the show’s frequent references to Harry Potter, which has a rather infamous author…

           For neurodivergent kids who really get into hyperfixations and fandoms, which Luz and Amity basically are- It’d be fascinating to see them navigate this kind of twisted revelation! And it’d also force them to really re-examine The Good Witch Azura, because sometimes a work can’tbe separated from the harmful ideas of its creator, especially if it was made to transmit them… If Azura ever talks about dealing with ‘savages’, that’d be VERY sus and make matters a lot more complex. But then again, Azura also reconciles with Hecate, so it could be a matter of recognizing a work’s more problematic areas and criticizing them, while still enjoying it.

          And, this makes sense, as The Owl House really does convey that experience of engaging with media and fiction, and how it relates to real life… And how media and fiction CAN mean a lot to people, it’s perfectly valid for one’s hyperfixations to mean the world to them! It’s treated as objectively terrible for Luz to throw away her Azura book, and bar a few social misunderstandings, the Azura books have otherwise brought nothing but happiness for her and Amity, and even functioned as something for them to bond over!

          It’s perfectly okay for fiction to mean a lot to Luz, and she’s not being childish for wanting to hold on, to keep enjoying it- So it’d be an interesting discussion when Belos’ authorship is thrown into the mix, amidst potential problematic bits here or there. Then again, Luz is an ND-coded kid who continues to find solace in these stories, which would suggest that there isn’t anything there that would bother her- At least, nothing she’d have really noticed until someone pointed it out to her.

           Then there’s the appropriateness, of Belos’ own fantasy being what could’ve led to Luz being deluded in her own right, projecting fantasies and dreams onto reality, wanting to be a chosen one… It’d be an extension of the kind of harmful delusions and ideas he puts into others, tying it back all the way of Luz herself, prior to arriving on the Boiling Isles! It’d give us insight to Belos as someone who really gets people to believe in the idea of being special, of being chosen, specifically for the Emperor’s Coven… And how this could relate to HIS character, if he himself is also a victim of these kinds of issues. If Belos is Luz, in that she never learned to differentiate fantasy from reality, and felt entitled towards bringing her stories to life.

          Perhaps Belos isn’t REALLY chosen by the Titan, he just likes to think of himself as a Chosen One- Or he was, but others can also quality for this honor, which is something that aggravates Belos because it alludes to him not being more special than others. Because to Belos, it’s not enough to be unique and valid in your own way; You must be actively better than others, and the creation of the Emperor’s Coven above all reflects this. The belief that magic is a privilege, a luxury, something you must actively earn or be more worthy of than others for…

           It’s also an interesting contrast, as if Belos has also been influenced by his works, or his works are a reflection of that- Then it’d set him apart from Luz as someone who actively deludes himself. As someone who is voluntarily blind, and willfully ignorant- Just like Lilith, who was inspired by Belos and looked to him as a role model when she was younger. Even before becoming a parasitic tyrant, Belos was a dark reflection of Luz, subjecting others to fantasies and delusions… Maybe not initially maliciously nor willingly, maybe it was just him having fun like any author. But then this innocuous action became very dark in retrospect, as Belos and his ‘hobbies’ worsened and took on a more harmful role for the people of the Boiling Isles.

          I suppose it’s worth noting that Belos’ imagery invokes a lot of white, which is also seen with Azura’s predominantly white-and-purple robes… While Belos is white-and-gold. If Belos is a dark deconstruction of Luz’s assumption of a Chosen One narrative and fantasies, then maybe he’s also a deconstruction of Azura herself; And this of course suggests that he actively emulated his own creation. He’s artistic and a writer like Luz is, but it seems Belos got TOO convinced by how good he was, and couldn’t take constructive criticism- Which could be like King as an author in Sense and Insensitivity, up until he realizes that Luz’s input helped make him so great!

           Luz and Amity can still engage in fantasy and fiction, the show always lets them find joy in this… It’s just a matter of finding the distinction between the two and recognizing it. Fully indulging into fantasy is what could’ve led Luz to accepting Adegast’s illusions… But entirely rejecting is is the path that is the Reality Camp, which would’ve sucked the fun and joy out of Luz and turned her into a hollow, soulless imitation of herself. It’s okay to find comfort and media and even be inspired by it, to even take lessons from it; And while you should always prioritize listening to real life when it says otherwise, I think it’s worth observing that Luz’s quest to be a good person like Azura… Well, influences her to be kind!

          And it’s this desire to emulate Azura that influences Luz to learn magic, which creates yet another hyperfixation that brings the girl joy, and leads to her connecting with Eda and everyone else in the Boiling Isles in the first place by staying there! Perhaps Belos will contrast with Luz in that while he recognized media’s ability to make him feel happier, he ultimately used it as a crutch, a substitute for actual meaningful interaction and connection with other people- Thus creating the monster we see today. There could be the idea of finding role models, people you want to emulate- But also recognizing their flaws, where to criticize them, and not be like them. That could tie into how Eda is a teacher to Luz, but isn’t always right and excels by taking Luz’s feedback into consideration, instead of assuming she always knows better and will never be wrong.

           All in all, this is a fascinating idea Pixel Anon! Even if Belos has no literal connection to the Azura books, I am a big fan of the idea of him being a dark reflection to Luz… A Luz as we see her start out in the series, only to be a Luz who never learns the lessons we see her go through. Belos wanted to be a hero, a main character; But he never went through the actual arc and character development of one, and instead ended up as the static villain, the main antagonist who causes problems for actualheroes. If some characters become what they despise most by trying to avoid that, then perhaps Belos is someone who avoids becoming what he wanted to be, in his attempts to be like that.

          Whether or not media has played a role in Belos’ life has yet to be seen, but there is the idea of him having lived out a traditional ‘fantasy’ without realizing it as such, because to him this IS his reality- So it’s ironic then that Belos deludes himself while Luz doesn’t. Maybe it’s because of this, because Luz has that self-awareness to consider the divide between her fantasies and what reality actually is; Because she has an actual frame of reference for what fantasy and fiction is. Suddenly I’m reminded of that joke in Lost in Language, when Gary sees “Fiction-Fiction” because the Non part, the reminder of reality, was erased; And he has an existential crisis, wondering if any of his life was real…

          Imagine this being foreshadowing to BELOS, of all people, having an epiphany- Realizing that so much of his ‘reality’ was just his own fiction, that he questions what things were real and what things never were. Belos realizing he forgot to consider reality, and now he’s questioning everything he knows, if his arcane knowledge is all for naught if he can’t even distinguish facts from fantasy… etc. What is real and objective- What if all of his ‘Non-Fiction’ was simply just Fiction, and Luz the troublemaker must reveal this to Belos? I’m just imagining Luz very awkwardly cringing and navigating around Belos’ breakdown, but also sort of relating to his dilemma and helping him recover; At least for the sake of everyone else, because a reformed Belos makes life easier than a dead one.

          Plus, Luz is very compassionate in that sort of way… And while Belos’ radiance has blinded him for so long; Now, it’s Luz’s less harsh Light, which helps open his eyes and allow Belos to properly see the world around him. Eyes DO seem to be a major motif in the Boiling Isles, and with Belos, whose eyes need to be fixed by some palisman bile… If Belos’ light has blinded all, himself the first victim; Then Luz’s more Night-time, Star-oriented Light can bring a sunset to Belos’ shining era, for now the sun sets on his empire after all these years. And with the lights dimmed, Belos can appreciate the darkness around him as a contrast, and truly recognize things for what they are… And Luz can metaphorically open his eyes and mind.

          If Luz illuminates others to the truth of their situation and what they’re doing- Then maybe her final obstacle can be Belos… Alongside her mother Camila, when Luz reunites with her and reveals just how much happier she’s been in the Boiling Isles, instead of the Reality Camp that was actually going to hurt her. THAT would be an unusual parallel, Belos and Camila, as two significant adults in Luz’s life… Potentially ones who taught Luz everything she knew prior to Eda, with Camila providing social interactions to the girl, while Belos provides lessons through his Azura fiction and media. If Azura and Camila were all Luz knew and learned from, it’d be interesting for her to teach THEM something herself- Again, a continuation of that theme of the teacher having a lot to learn from the student, and not being so infallible and all-knowing themselves. Even a teacher like Eda can still enjoy the wide-eyed opportunity and curiosity to learn as a student, once more…

[greasykookietree98]

Worth the Wait | bbh

Pairing: ceo!Baekhyun x chef!OC (named)

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Baekhyun being the cringey dad we know he’ll become one day; also some slight angst if you squint real hard

Word Count: 7,5K

Synopsis: It was a calm Sunday afternoon in the Byun household, before Baekhyun got all sentimental again.

A/N: So after years of not writing shit and deleting all my old, cringey work, here I am, back with a fresh, new, cringey work. Consider it my “Hey! I’m back! Happy Valentine’s or whatever!” gift. Hopefully 5 years of English at a university helped me somewhat – constructive criticism is well appreciated!

  “Dad, why do you keep calling noona a monkey?” the toddler inquired, sparkling eyes wide, munching on his favorite banana chips, while comfortably sitting on his father’s lap. Baekhyun brought a hand up to ruffle his son’s soft hair, earning a soft giggle from the 3-year-old. The house was peaceful this Sunday afternoon, almost idyllic even. Jaehyun was paying attention to his favorite cartoon while cuddling his father. Mina sat on the carpet in front of the couch, doodling mindlessly to her newest glittery notebook, occasionally taking a sip from her juice box. From the kitchen he could hear the clanking of dishes, the contact of knives and wooden cutting boards, a sure indicator that Mirae was working on something delicious.

  Upon Jae’s question, Mina put her crayon down and turned with her entire body towards the two Byuns, her lips slowly forming into a pout. “Yeah Dad, why do you call me a monkey, but not Jaehyunnie?”

  “Well princess, it all has to do with the time your mom and I started dating. Story time?” Baekhyun patted the couch next to his free leg, signaling for the 10-year-old to sit and cuddle him as well. With both kids in his arms, his smile widened as he fondly remembered the very beginning of his happy family.

  “It’s so useless, Chae. He won’t want a second date after he finds out. Why put in all the effort?” Mirae sighed, defeated almost, as she threw the black dress on top of the pile of rejects on her bed. She was really getting tired of this whole procedure – getting all dolled up for a man, just for him to zoom out the moment she spoke out about her life, leaving her empty, unwanted, hopeless until her best friend came up with another potential date. Rinse and repeat. See, the problem didn’t inherently lie with Mirae. She was 28, lead a healthy lifestyle with a decent diet and regular workouts. She had a steady job, one she was actually enjoying, one she could be proud of – not everyone from her culinary classes ended up as chefs in top restaurants. She had an at least okay personality, she liked to think at least. All her previous first dates seemed eager to get her on a second date, until her worst (best?) trait came to play. Honesty. She couldn’t leave a date without spilling the truth about her little secret. The little secret weighed 16 kgs, liked to have her chocolate brown hair in pigtails and couldn’t go a day without her Tigger plushie. Her little secret was Shin Mina, her daughter from a previous relationship.

  It always ended the same way. The men usually let her down slowly. Kind smiles, small promises of ‘see you soon’ before never texting her again. There were some, of course, who were appealed that she did not have this information readily available from the first second, did not have it plastered on her forehead – or her cleavage, for easier visibility for that matter. These men got angry that they wasted precious time and money on a women who already gave birth to someone else’s spawn – their words, not hers. She tried to react the same way to all of them. A small apology, a gentle smile and a tiny goodbye. She then entered her small apartment, went straight to Mina’s room to check on her sleeping daughter, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek before going out to the living room. The living room where her best friend, frequent babysitter and constant matchmaker, Chaeyon waited for her with tissues, ice cream and warm hugs. It always ended the same way.

  “Well for a start, this guy actually had the guts to ask you out – in person! Not on a dating app, not with some horrible pickup line, what if he’s really different?” Chae reasoned enthusiastically, throwing another dress Mirae’s way. It was rich coming from her, considering she was the one running Mirae’s dating app accounts, “filtering out” candidates before setting dates up for her. But she had a point. This guy, Byun Baekhyun, really was different. Never had a customer in the restaurant she worked at complimented her cooking while also noting her lack of wedding ring and asking smoothly for her number. Never had a man asked her every hour or two whether she was having a good day and if she remembered to drink enough water – even before their first date. Baekhyun was a natural charmer, which could’ve made everything easier. Instead, Mirae felt it would just be an even bigger disappointment when he deleted her number from his contacts with disgust in his eyes.

  Because let’s face it, Baekhyun was perfect. Fit, handsome, easygoing, yes. He was the CEO of his own company, Privé, one of the region’s hottest fashion and skin-care brands. If she were to go by the loud laughs of the friends he was dining with, he seemed fun to be around and for some reason she got the impression he would be amazing with kids. With his own kinds, preferably, she added. Cause why would a man of his caliber want to have to do anything with someone else’s child?

  “I can’t build my daughter’s future on what-ifs, Chae… I’m sure it’s not good for Minnie either. Seeing her mom go away for nights and seeing her all sad the next morning. I think I should just stop. Mina’s enough for me, I will always have her and she will always have me. Yeah, I don’t need a man to live a happy life!” She started rambling as she suddenly got up from her bed.

  “Okay, okay, calm down, fighter. You’re not wrong, you’re independent, you’re strong, you don’t need anyone. I’m also sure Mina is more than content to just have you and no one else. But! Mommy needs a little love sometimes, too.” Chaeyon winked, earning a slap on her upper arm from her friend. “Seriously, don’t leave Baekhyun hanging. Just this one last time, give this whole ordeal a chance. If it doesn’t work out with him, either, I promise to delete your dating profiles and not set up you with anyone, ever.” She promised, a hand rising to his chest.

  “I’d really appreciate that, Chae. I really appreciate you. Thank you for everything you do for me, for us.” Mirae pulled her best friend into a bone crashing hug, then grabbed the silky dress from her hands and went into her bathroom to get ready for her last date ever, potentially.

    Baekhyun waited anxiously in front of the restaurant. Wasn’t this too cliché? Bringing a chef to a restaurant for their first date? He scolded himself for listening to Jongdae’s advice – “You can get to know her the best this way, also, a way to anyone’s heart is through their stomachs”. Sure, Jongdae already had a family, so his advice should’ve sounded legit. Well, she didn’t seem to protest, even let him pick the location. She didn’t let him pick her up, tho, insisting that she can just take a taxi.

  Honestly, Baekhyun was never one to ask someone out so openly. Sure, he knew how to use his charms and words to his advantage, as it was how he fought his way to the top of his field, but flirting never came to him so naturally. What was he even thinking? Sure, his friends wanted to compliment the chef personally, a practice he always found cringeworthy, but the moment he saw her, all common sense was thrown out the wall-to-wall window of the five-star establishment. She gave him the time of day though, so he must’ve done something right.

  Just as he lifted the bouquet of yellow tulips to his nose – for one last closer inspection, he told himself -, a car stopped in front of his black Audi. If he didn’t know any better, he would say it was an angel emerging from the taxi – in his mind, he wasn’t too far off, it was her. Thanking the driver one last time, Mirae fixed the strap of her black bag on her shoulder, scanning her surroundings carefully before meeting Baekhyun’s gaze. Her lips perked up into a small smile, and she made her way quickly towards him, him doing the same so they could meet halfway. Shy greetings were exchanged before Baekhyun handed her the bouquet. He blushed slightly, thankfully hidden in the darkness of the night.

  The date was – for a lack of a better word – exceptional. While Mirae was completely ready to listen to endless hours of boring business talk from the young CEO, Baekhyun seemed a lot more interested in getting to know her than most of her recent dates. He asked about her childhood dreams, her deepest fears and most memorable trips and told her about himself in return. The conversation was balanced and Baekhyun was not opposed to taking her recommendations in consideration when it came to choosing appetizers, wine or dessert. Dessert! She couldn’t even remember the last time she and her date stayed until dessert. However, the closer the end of the date seemed, the more tense she got. It was soon time to tell him. It was soon all come crashing down again.

  “Let me drive you home” Baekhyun spoke up, breaking her out of her momentary haze. Seeing as he was just putting away his credit card, it was clear he has paid for everything already.

  “Did you really pay for all of this? Let me pay half of it” She protested, not even reacting to his initial proposition. A smile creeped up on his face upon seeing her surprise. Gosh, did he wanted to surprise her more in the future.

  “Maybe I’ll let you pay on our second date” He mentioned while helping her put on her coat. “If you’ll want to meet me again, that is.” He added, a glimmer of hope etched into his voice.

  It won’t depend on me, honestly, she wanted to add, but chose to just smile at him kindly. They exited the restaurant and Baekhyun didn’t need to do much convincing to let him take her home. She could enjoy these last few minutes with him; and it would be easier to just walk up to her apartment with her heart broken once more.

  The car round was silent on her part. Baekhyun played music on a low volume, but tried to upkeep small conversation. He could sense that something was off. He couldn’t have imagined this spark between them back in the restaurant. He could swear her smiles and laughs were genuine and she truthfully seemed interested in him. Byun Baekhyun, the 29-year-old human, not Byun Baekhyun, the CEO, the ATM on two legs. Did he say something? Was she offended that he paid the bill?

  “Hey, is everything alright?” He questioned after parking the car right in front of the address she gave him. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. If I did, I’m terribly sorry.”

  “No, no, that’s not it-“ Mirae took a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. Turning towards him, she inhaled deeply once more. “I really enjoyed everything today. I can’t even begin to tell you, how much. You’re wonderful, so I think you deserve full honesty from me.” She fumbled with her fingers, voice suddenly small. “This is the part where all of them change their mind, so don’t feel bad at all, I understand.” Baekhyun would’ve lied if he said her words didn’t concern him. What was she talking about? After another deep inhale, she looked up, deep into his eyes. “I have a daughter, 4 years old, from a previous relationship.”

  “Okay, and?” was Baekhyun’s immediate response. He was honestly expecting something truly terrible, jarring, something a lot worse.

  “And? You’re not – I don’t know – mad? Disappointed? You don’t want to kick me out of your car as soon as possible?” She queried, absolutely puzzled by his reaction. “You really don’t have to act nice, I sincerely understand if you never want to see me again.”

  “I feel like you’ve had some pretty big assholes bring you on a date before, hm?” He gave her a lopsided smile. “If anything, I admire you even more. You’re a single mother, you work a tiring job and still make time for hopeless men like myself. But I think this is a bigger topic, something we could discuss on our second date. What do you say?” He leaned over to her, pressing a small kiss on her cheek. Her exes grew twice their size – because of his words or the small peck, she wasn’t sure.

  “I-… You really won’t stand me up, right? Because if you’re planning to do that, just do it now. It would be easier for both of us.”

  “Hey, I promise, this is not me pushing you away with an empty promise to never call you again. This is me, wanting to hear you full story, in a place and time you’re comfortable in. I don’t think my car’s the most ideal. How about this? Give me your phone?” She was so dazed, she put her phone in his palm without question. “This is my address. Which night are you free this week? Our second date can be at my place, I can cook us something, we can eat and watch a movie, and when you’re comfortable, you can tell me everything about her.” He gave back the device, sure enough with an address typed into her notes.

  “I could make my Wednesday night free, if that works.” She answered shyly. The inside of the car was getting hotter with every second. Or was it just her? Was it because this man could not be real?

  “Perfect, it’s a date then. Want me to pick you up or do you just want to drop by at 7?”

    “Chae, you don’t understand, he’s perfect.”

  This night, tissues were not spared. Ice cream was eaten, but not in sorrow. Mirae felt like she was floating on cloud 9. Maybe she was. Maybe it was all a dream – it sure seemed to good to be true.

  “Oh, is he now, Miss I Don’t Need A Man?” Her friend teased smugly. Oh, she was never gonna live this down.

  “No, really, I still can’t believe he wants a second date. What if it actually works out?”

  “Oh, we’re building on what-ifs now, Drama Queen?”

  “Shut up!”

    “Mommy, you look really pretty!” Mina exclaimed excitedly as soon as her mother exited her bedroom in her light jeans and blush colored blouse. She felt a lot more relaxed than in last week’s beautiful but restricting dress. “and happy, too!”

  “Thank you, sweetie” she cooed before she swept the little human in her arms. “Do you promise to behave for eonnie while mommy’s not home, like you always do?”

  “Of course, mommy!” She clapped her tiny hands together, right before leaning in and leaving a big smooch on her mom’s cheek. “Who are you meeting, mommy?”

  “I’m just visiting a friend I met this weekend, honey. I might be home late, so go to sleep with Chaeyon eonnie, okay?”

  After making sure Chae had all necessities at hand to deal with her little princess, Mirae put on her boots and coat, kissing her daughter one last time before exiting the apartment. This time, she decided to drive to Baekhyun’s instead of calling a taxi. She was a bit early, as she liked to be, when she parked in front of the simple family house in Gangnam. Was it really where Baekhyun lived? Wasn’t he living alone? Before she could question herself any longer, Baekhyun’s tuft of chocolate hair appeared at the front door, cheerfully waving towards her car. Quickly exiting and locking the vehicle, she hurried to the door with a bottle of wine in her hand.

  Baekhyun really outdid himself with the preparation. The table was set nicely for the two of them, and from the dining room she could see the living room couch decorated with soft looking pillows and blankets. While he was opening the wine bottle, she took a good look at the table full of side dishes and delicious food. Baekhyun’s soft voice, only slightly above a whisper, snapped her out of her thoughts. “I realize this is now the second date I took a chef on a date where she had to eat food probably worse than she can make at home, but I hope you don’t mind too much.”

  “And this is the second date I’m wearing my own clothes instead of the ones you designed, yet you don’t seem too bothered about it either” she joked lightly, hoping to ease his nerves – and simultaneously her own, too. A genuine smile appeared on Baekhyun’s face before his chuckle filled the whole room.

  Once they sat down and started eating they easily fell into conversation. How their week went so far, the plans they had for the rest of it. It was so easy talking to each other, almost like they’d known each other for far longer than the week they actually had. And just like before, Mirae could feel the heavy topic of her private life creeping up on her. As if reading her mind, Baekhyun spoke up, wine glass in one hand. “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. But I’d really like to know about your story, your daughter.” And yet again, with only a few words he managed to put her mind at ease, as if it was the easiest thing on Earth to tell him everything. He suggested moving to the couch, leaving the empty dishes on the table. He started clicking buttons on the remote of the TV, a seemingly endless list of movies appearing on screen shortly after. While he was reading through the titles, Mirae made herself comfortable between the pillows and blankets. “Have you seen Enola Holmes? I never got around to watching it.”

  “I haven’t either, we can watch that” she replied, smiling at him when she realized he turned his whole body towards her when he asked for her opinion. After starting the movie, he also made his way to the couch, sitting down a bit further away from her than he would’ve originally liked to, but he didn’t want to invade her personal space. Not yet, at least. He grabbed a pillow and put it in his lap, pulling his legs up on the couch so that his body was turned towards her. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, her body also turned towards him, her lips curling into a nervous smile. “Mina’s 4 years old. She’s going to kindergarten now and she absolutely loves it. She only made two friends, but she plays with them all the time and I’m really happy she could fit in. I was really worried, her not having a father when all her peers are picked up by theirs almost every day. She still sees him once every month, but I don’t think she enjoys spending time with him.”

  “Oh, so he’s dad is around?” slipped out of Baekhyun’s mouth before he could think it through. Eyes widening in panic he tried saving the situation. “I mean, that’s good, right? Or is it? I’m sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying” his rambling earned him a hearty chuckle and a small smile.

  “Yeah, I’m happy that he finally came around and wanted to see his daughter. I mean, I wasn’t expecting much when he left with another girl only a week after I told him I was pregnant” she mentioned bitterly. It was a hard topic, not something she could take lightly, but it was her kneejerk reaction to stress. They continued like this, Mirae talking about her horrible experiences, white slight jokes sprinkled into the stories and Baekhyun reassuring her for the best of his abilities. Honestly, he could’ve easily gone out and beat the guy to a pulp for what he has done to her and her daughter. He knew better though, he knew she was fully capable of dealing with that jerk as much as she needed to, but he just couldn’t help this overwhelming urge to protect her at all costs. He was sure once he met Mina, he would feel the same about the little girl, too.

  “Do you want to see some pictures of her?” she asked shyly, and Baekhyun accepted within a fraction of a second. She scooted closer to him on the couch, his legs returning to the ground to give her space beside him. With her phone in hand she opened her gallery, full of pictures of food and a little girl. With every picture she showed came a small story – it started raining when we were in the park, she loves puddles, so she immediately jumped into one and she wanted to dress as Remy from Ratatouille, but we decided to stick with Colette in the end. With every little piece she revealed of herself, Baekhyun’s arms inched closer and closer, to the point where it was no going back from hooking his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. While caught off guard, she didn’t seem to dislike his close proximity. The movie still played in the background, but neither of them knew what the story was about. She put her phone away after a while, cuddling into his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. It all just felt right. With her previous dates, Mirae was always cautious about skinship and touching, but with Baekhyun it all seemed to come naturally.

  Once the end credits started rolling, Netflix already recommending the next movie to watch, Baekhyun reluctantly left his comfortable cocoon, and with that, her embrace, to turn the streaming service off. Mirae was almost dozing off underneath the warm blankets, and he hadn’t the heart to disturb her peace. When he started walking towards the dining area, all intentions of cleaning up, she also rose from the couch, following him with a smile plastered on her face. “Need help?”

  “You’re the guest, no work for you here” he answered softly, pestering a small kiss on the top of her head. His gesture made her cheeks heat up, momentarily speechless as he started cleaning up the aftermath of their dinner. With him refusing her help, she sat down on a chair next to the dining table, watching him move around the space smoothly. “There’s a carnival just outside the city, do you think Mina would enjoy it?” A kitchen towel was flung across his shoulder, dirty plates in one hand, empty wine glasses in the other. The implications of his question were deeper than she was prepared for. She honestly hasn’t thought much about introducing anyone to Mina lately, since she didn’t have any worthy candidates. Baekhyun, however, was different. She had no doubt Mina would warm up to him easily, he seemed to have that effect on anyone he wanted to. Wouldn’t it be too soon though? How long should she wait? These times, she really wished there was a guidebook to dating as a single parent, telling her exactly what was right and what wasn’t. But there wasn’t, and she decided then and there: she would give Baekhyun a chance.

    “Mommy, can I bring Tigger to the carni-war?” Mina asked excitedly, jumping around the living room with her favorite plushie in her hand.

  “It’s called a carnival, honey” she corrected her, pulling down her fluffy baby blue sweater to make sure she was properly covered in the chilly autumn morning. “And I think it’s best if Tigger stays home today. What if we lose him? He’ll wait for you to come home, right here” she placed the toy on the couch, sitting up. “Now go grab your bag, sweetie, Baekhyun will be here soon.”

  She didn’t even need to finish her sentence, her child was already running down the corridor, towards her room. Last night they had the big talk. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun was coming over and taking them to the carnival. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really nice and she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really excited to meet her, so she should behave. Mommy really likes her friend, Baekhyun, just like in the movies, so she needs private agent Mina’s help to determine if he really is a good man. She hoped being a girl on a mission would ease Mina’s mind enough to not be too nervous around Baekhyun. She wasn’t particularly afraid of strangers, but she tended to be shy. Mirae was also afraid she would associate spending time with a grown man to spending time with her father, which she always threw a fuss about. She always said her dad was boring, that they just watched cartoons and ate fast food when she was at his place. Mirae scolded him every time for this, but things never changed. Just as Mina arrived at her feet, Hello Kitty backpack on her shoulders, there was a knock on the door. “Woo, he’s here!” the toddler exclaimed and Mirae couldn’t help but chuckle as she went to open the door. There he stood, dressed in his own streetwear, eyes shining, grin wide, with a bouquet of yellow tulips in his hand. After letting him in and thanking him she excused herself to the kitchen to search for a vase. When she came back, to her biggest surprise, Baekhyun was crouching in front of Mina, handing her a very small bouquet of various colorful flowers.

  “Shin Mina, what do we say?” She scolded playfully, arms crossed in front of her chest.

  “Thank you!” She bounced happily, running towards her mother with the flowers in her hand. “Mommy, look”

  “It’s really pretty, sweetie” Mirae picked her up, the little girl already too heavy for her to carry for longer periods. “Let’s find a glass you can put them in so they don’t get sad.”

  After putting their flowers in water, the two girls returned to the smiling CEO, Mina still having an excited bounce in her step. They were soon leaving the apartment, Baekhyun carrying Mina’s car seat to install in his car before letting Mirae strap her in the proper way. The drive to the carnival wasn’t too long, especially since Mina for some reason couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She kept telling stories to Baekhyun and asking him questions he never thought he would have to be ready for – Baekhyunnie do you think the sky is so blue because there’s so much water in it? Baekhyunnie why is unhealthy food so delicious and healthy food so- so- broccoli!. Mirae heavily enjoyed how flustered he got when trying to answer her nonsensical queries, trying his hardest to please the toddler with his answer.

  Saying that Mina went wild at the carnival would be a big understatement. Colorful rides, delicious smelling treats at every corner, it’s safe to say she was nearly overwhelmed with excitement. She wanted to sit on every ride, eat a sample of all the food and never rest. Mirae also learned a lot about Baekhyun on that date. Like when they were buying sandwiches and Mina offered him a bite of her own, Baekhyun almost accepting before realizing with disgust written all across his features that it had cucumbers in it. Or when you were on top of the ferris wheel and he let it slip how utterly terrified he was of heights, only to let Mina drag you two into the line for the rollercoasters. The fact that he was trying tens of times harder to make sure Mina was enjoying her day than her own father ever did really warmed Mirae’s heart. That’s why when the end of the day approached and Baekhyun dropped them off she didn’t refuse the idea of a fourth date, and didn’t hesitate to lean up and seal their goodbye with a kiss.

  From then on, Baekhyun was an engraved part of the Shins life. He would bring Mirae on dates every week, each of them drawing them closer to each other, and every week he would come over and spend a day with her and Mina. Sometimes they went out and did some outdoors activities – hiking was Mina’s favorite -, sometimes they just stayed inside and had fun with games and movies. That’s why Baekhyun’s revelation came as a shocking surprise after three months of officially being a couple.

  He hadn’t finished his military service yet, meaning he would have to enlist within the next 6 months. Enlist, for 20 months. He was terrified to tell her this. He was too focused on starting his own company in the beginning of his twenties, so he pushed it off for as long as he could. He was horrified of what her reaction could be. Would she hate him? She told him her biggest secret on date one and he waited three months! What was he thinking? She, however, was absolutely understanding. A bit sad, a little upset, of course, but inherently she understand his want to focus on his career beforehand. She made him promise to contact her every week when he could use his phone and to not get hurt while he was serving in the navy. The moment she kissed him softly, reassuring him that she would wait till the day she came back, he knew she would be the one he marries.

    The past 20 months were terrible for her, sure. Only speaking on the phone once per week, not even being able to see his face, since photographs were still strictly prohibited in the military, really took a toll on her. But being a grown woman she understood that he had to do this, that he will be back soon. Mina, now 6 years old, was a whole different story. She didn’t understand why Baekhyun stopped visiting, why he missed both two of his birthday parties since she knew him, why he was only calling once a week – not even videocalling, like her grandparents, but just calling! She really missed him, Mirae could see that. Never in her 6 years of life did she miss anyone like this. She had friends move away from their neighborhood, hell, she saw her real father only once a month. But this was different, Baekhyun was different. Mina could see how much her mommy missed him, too, and seeing her sad only made the little girl sadder.

  “Does Mina know I’m coming home next Thursday?” Baekhyun asked at the end of their hour long conversation. Mina was already asleep, seeing as it was near 10PM. He would soon need to hang up.

  “No, I didn’t want to tell her until you knew the exact day you were arriving. She really misses you, you know?” She smiled fondly, playing with a strand of her own hair. One week. He’ll finally be coming back in seven days. He’ll be discharged on Wednesday, but his base is so far from Seoul his friend, Chanyeol would have to drive late at night. So they agreed they’ll stay in a hotel near the base for the night, then drive home in the morning. You offered to fetch him yourself, but he insisted on surprising Mina, and he said that would give it all away. He may’ve had a point.

  “Is she the only one missing me?” he joked. ”Good, don’t tell her. When can you pick her up from school? 4? Gosh, she’s already in school, I’m sure she’s grown so much…”

  “Yeah, I can’t even pick her up properly, she’s so heavy” she giggled at his rambling. “She’s almost 120cms now, she really grew a lot. I wonder if you’ll even recognize her when we go to her school.”

  “She has your eyes, of course I’ll recognize her! I really can’t wait, I missed you both so much. I have to go now, curfew, you know… I’ll text you when I’m near Seoul” he promised, a hopeful sigh prominent in his voice.

  “Okay, take care. I’ll cook your favorite, no cucumbers.” She winked and even thought he couldn’t see, she was sure he knew. “I love you”

  “I love you too, see you soon.”

    “GPS says 34 minutes.”

  “28 now!”

  “Only 24 minutes and I’m back!”

  “19 minutes, I can’t wait!”

  She giggled, looking at her phone and the seemingly endless messages, before typing her response. “Wow, Chanyeol must really want to throw you out the window right now haha Door’s open, soldier.”

  His messages didn’t stop, if anything they picked up in frequency. 17 minutes, 14, 13, 10, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, I see the convenience store, I see your street, I see the building…

  By the time Chanyeol parked his car in front her complex she was already waiting on the sidewalk, immediately running to him and jumping into his arms after he exited the car.

  “Fucking finally, if I had to spend another minute with him in my car, I might’ve driven into a tree on purpose.” Chanyeol’s grumpy voice sounded from the rolled down window. She let out a chuckle, thanking him for not killing his best friend before inviting them both inside. Chanyeol declined, taking out Baekhyun’s bags before waving goodbye and driving off. She smiled at him fondly, arms still around his waist. He bulked up a bit in the past year and a half, his shoulders broader than the last time she saw him. His skin was also a bit tanner, probably thanks to the time spent in the sun. What haven’t changed, thankfully, was his boxy smile and sparkling eyes looking deep into hers.

  They spent the entire day in each other’s arms, exchanging kisses left and right, talking about anything and everything. Minutes before 4PM they were already outside of Mina’s school. Loud screams and laughter sounded from the playground at the back porch of the school, so they headed there straight away. Upon seeing Mirae, a teacher called out to Mina – Mina, mommy’s here – and the moment her big eyes found the pair at the entrance, she ran like her life depended on it, straight into the arms of Baekhyun who was already crouching down with his arms open. “You’re back!” she cried out, small sobs shaking her entire body. Baekhyun hugged her close, smiling up at Mirae sheepishly, clearly fighting his own tears. Giving them a minute of privacy, Mirae walked towards the teacher overlooking the crowd of playing children, to collect Mina’s coat and backpack.

  “So is he the Baekhyun the whole school was hearing about lately?” she smiled at the mother knowingly. She knew Mina couldn’t shut up about how her Baekhyunnie was in the army and would be coming back any time now. Mirae nodded happily, exchanging a few words about Mina before she walked back to the two loves of her life. Mina’s arms were still tight around his neck, but he was standing up now, holding her in his arms securely.

  “Honey, you’ll have to let go of Baekhyun eventually, or he won’t be able to drive us home” she cooed, pressing a reassuring kiss to the little girl’s cheek, rubbing her back slightly. “It’s okay, honey, you don’t need to cry.”

  “Will you leave again?” Her voice sounded barely louder than the slight wind playing with her hair, but they both heard. Baekhyun kissed the top of his head, making sure she wouldn’t fall from his grip.

  “No, princess, you won’t be able to get rid of me from now on.”

  They stood there for five minutes, Mina not budging a milimiter, but her tears subsiding, before Mirae decided she would drive, while Baekhyun could sit in the back with Mina in his lap. By the time they approached Baekhyun’s driveway she was soundly asleep on his chest, him rubbing her soft hair slightly. Once parked, Mirae opened the back door and tried to get Mina off him, but even in her sleep she still wouldn’t stir. Once Baekhyun carried her into his home – cleaned biweekly by a cleaning agency for the past 20 months –, he sat down with her on the couch, waiting for Mirae to join them. Cuddled together, they talked in whispers, not daring to wake up the exhausted little girl.

  For days after Baekhyun couldn’t get her to stop clinging to her like a koala – not like he really minded. He did need to go back to work though, having been running his company remotely with the help of his right hand, Chanyeol. Mina also needed to go to school, but he made it his mission to leave early enough every day and pick her up from school. He even had to carry her out to the grill party they organized in his backyard that weekend, a small event with family and friends to celebrate Baekhyun’s return. Well, that was the reason Mirae knew. For Baekhyun, this small event wasn’t precisely about greeting his parents and brother, his niece and nephew or even Mirae’s parents. He wanted them all there for one reason, and one reason only. The reason was snugly tucked away in the inside pocket of his blazer, the gem precisely cut, the size determined sneakily by sneaky texts with Chaeyon.

  Mirae and their mothers were in charge of the side dishes and desert inside, while their fathers did the grilling. Baekhyun always loved seeing their parents getting along well – it seriously was more than he ever hoped for. Baekhyun sat down at the makeshift sandpit where his niece and nephew were already playing, supervised by his brother and sister-in-law, and encouraged Mina to join them. “Nervous?” his brother inquired, a hand resting on his shoulder.

  “More than I imagined I’d be.” Baekhyun sighed, watching Mina enjoy her time with the two kids who he hoped could become her cousins soon. “What if she thinks it’s all too soon? I mean, it is, I just… Why wait when I know I want to be with her forever?”

  “Hyunnie, you grew up quite a lot, didn’t you?” His brother’s grip on his shoulder tightened reassuringly, a proud smile sitting on his lips. “I can see she loves you as much as you love her. And I mean technically, you’ve been together for 2 years already. Sure, most of it was long-distance, but you both fought through it. Her kid also adores you, which I think is already a selling factor.”

  “Still, I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life-“

  “Why are you nervous?” Mina appeared in front of him, hands full of sand, eyes full of wonder.

  “Oh, nothing monkey, I just need to ask your mom a question after dinner.” he replied, grabbing her and pulling her onto his lap.

  “But mommy’s not scary, I ask her questions all the time” she added innocently, snuggling closer to him. “Want me to ask it for you?”

  “No, honey, Baekhyunnie has to ask this. And this is our secret, okay, monkey? Mommy can’t know I want to ask her anything.”

  “Okay!” she playfully zipped her lips, before jumping off him and running back to play in the sand some more. He looked after her with fondness in his eyes, totally forgetting about the conversation he had with his brother before – or the presence of the older man for that matter.

  “See? It’s like she’s been your daughter all along.”

  “Should’ve guessed I’ll find you in the sandpit with the kids” Mirae appeared behind her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his cheek. “Food’s almost ready, could you get the kids to wash up and sit in their chairs?”

  “Of course, love” he turned in her arms, pressing a quick peck on her lips. “Need help with anything else?”

  “Oh, no, your mom is running around like a rabbit on steroids, I think her and my mom got the table all set up already.” Oh, his mom. When they arrived earlier that day, Baekhyun pulled her aside – just like he did with his father and Mirae’s parents individually later on – to let her know about his plan. She was overjoyed, just like the rest of the parents, but he guesses she couldn’t fully contain her excitement like he asked her to do.

  Dinner was going as smoothly as it could, with family member and friends talking in small groups about whatever they deemed worthy. Mirae turned to Baekhyun midway, looking at him like he brought down the stars for her, and kissed the corner of his lips. Did she knew? Did one of their mothers let it slip out? Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for their permission to begin with, it’s all ruined now- “I was thinking about switching workplaces. The restaurant chain is opening a new location in Gangnam, I’d have a lot more regular hours and I could be closer to you, as well.” She ran her hand down his lower arm until their fingers tangled together under the table. His surprised expression only caused her smile to widen. “What do you think?”

  “I think you should definitely take the opportunity. And you should definitely move here, with me, you know, so you could be closer to work.” he answered dreamily, not believing how well this all played in with his plan. “Your lease is coming to an end either way, right? The elevator hasn’t been working for a while either, did they fix that already? And Mina could play out here every day, without you having to bring her to a park. And you know, we could wake up next to each other every morning, so that’s an added bonus-“

  “Calm down, I was convinced by the time you mentioned the elevator” she joked, pressing another short kiss onto his lips. “Let’s talk about this after everyone left, hm?”

  “Yeah, let’s” he spaced out, touching the hidden pocket with his free hand. “Actually” he let go of her hand suddenly, standing up from the table. Everyone looked at him, some expectantly, some curiously – including her. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. I-… I never thought that I would find the love of my life when I went into that restaurant two years ago. Honestly, I wasn’t even looking for a relationship, I was planning to finish my military service and then maybe start looking but then I saw you and everything changed. I was terrified of everything, of this newfound confidence you gave me, of disappointing you, or Mina, and when I was lying on my bed in the navy every day, I was terrified of one day losing you. I-… I don’t even know where I’m trying to go with all of this, I should’ve practiced more, but you just had to surprise me today, as well and… Just please, will you marry me?” He blurted out, now on one knee next to her chair, with the velvet box opened in his palm. He was too afraid to look at her for a second, but then remembered it’s her, he shouldn’t have to worry about anything. Both of Mirae’s hands were covering her face, tears quickly gathering at the corners of her eyes. Gosh¸ she wasn’t expecting this, not today at least, not for a while longer honestly. But just thinking about spending the rest of her days by his side made her extremely happy. She had no doubt Baekhyun is the one – but wasn’t this all too fast? Or was it? What more was she waiting for?

  Without uttering a word she threw herself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck and suddenly she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Free hand wrapping around her waist, Baekhyun tried shushing her, to comfort her. “I kind of need an answer here, sweetheart.”

  “Yes, of course” she choked out, hugging him even closer before he grabbed her left hand, slowly sliding the shiny ring on her fourth finger before leaning down and enveloping her in the most romantic kiss they ever shared. Friends and family cheering, kids ew-ing, it all couldn’t be more perfect.

  That was, until a year later, a day before their wedding Baekhyun was panicking, walking up and down the living room – their living room –, worried that they must have missed something during planning, something will go wrong and she will hate him forever. “Honey” She ran her arm up his arm, slowly wrapping both arms around his neck and tangling her hair into his soft, black hair. “It’s going to be fine. The wedding planner took care of everything, most guests are already in their hotel rooms, your tuxedo and my dress are waiting for us at the venue and I made sure the wedding cake is the best they could make. Everything is going to be just fine” she tried reassuring him, pressing kiss after kiss on his pouting lips. “Besides, I don’t need my husband breaking down on our wedding day, leaving me to take care of our two kids on my own.”

  “I’m not going to-“ he protested, clearly not registering right away the secret in her last words. “Wait, what, two?” His eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, and she could swear if she didn’t know he was nearing 32, she would believe he was 9 going by how cute he was.

  “Oops, did I say two? Might have spoiled the honeymoon surprise” she added cheekily, carefully watching as Baekhyun’s smile widened to his ears before she could feel his arms crushing her bones as he pulled her close.

  “I love you, so, so much.”

  “I love you too, honey. You were absolutely worth the wait.”

    “So, Dad, I’m monkey because I was clinging to you when you came back from the army?” Mina asked, pushing himself away from her guardian.

  “Yes, sweetie.” He answered proudly. Jaehyun was already snoring soundly on his shoulder.

  “Then why did you not just say that? Why did I have to listen to your whole story with mom again?” Mina whined. Just as she was about to give him a piece of her mind – like the scary, independent, full of anger 10-year-old she was – Mirae emerged from the kitchen, an apron still draped around her front. “Mom, dad is the worst!”

  “Tell me about it, monkey” Mirae picked her up, ruffling her hair. With a big puff of air escaping her small lips, Mina crossed her arms.

  “I hate that nickname.”

[ifandomalot]

This is Love. (1/3)

Summary: Steve is captured by hydra, they use you as a toy for him. A sick game they play. He can't help but notice how much you hate touch, or any kind of human interaction. When his team rescues him, he takes you with him and shows you what love is.

Warnings: unexpected pregnancy eventuality, kidnapping, blood, and unwanted sex by both parties? But it doesn't go to much into detail. But i dont know how to categorize it. This is dark but soft. Also my grammar mistakes.

Part 2 / Part 3 (coming soon)

Steve doesn't remember much, the aching pain against the roundest part of his skull was the only thought manageable. Shaky fingers running over the clumps of blood that matted his hair, stables fusing the gash closed. His eyes take in the room around him, no windows, the only light is small lamp that illuminates the small corner of the room by the bed he currently say up on. The walls are a dull gray, the floor matching, the cement seemed as it ran for miles. A door is on the far right, heavy duty, not even a super solider could break it down.

His tact suit is gone, a plain white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweat pants clad his body, no shoes just a tall pair of socks that bundle against ankles. The throbbing inside his skull seems like the worst of his worries as his eyes scan the room, no way out. The small camera in the corner follows his every move. "Whoever you are, you've made a mistake."

Thick arms across against his swollen chest in dominace, trying to assert some kind of fear into the situation. It's no use, no one is there or obviously cares enough to call a bluff. A small stack of books are next to the sink, fingers run down the ridged brindle of the book, noticing the german writing. Hydra.

Steve's face moves in frustration, body growing taller as he realizes the situation, hydra had finally managed to do it, they got him. A small growl rumbles deep inside the roughness of his chest, fist meeting the cement wall in anger, the blood didn't bother him, the pain non existent. He steps over the crumbled pieces of the wall before looking right into the camera. "If you think I'll stay here peacefully, you're mistaken. I will punch my way out of here."

His feet start towards the carving he made in the wall but peeks his head towards the door listening to the gliding of locks. He stands tall, expecting someone to send in some poor bastard that was meant to tell him to behave but would only meet death in the hands of him.

Much to his surprise, a female thrown into the room, falling next to his feet. Adrenline was too high, he couldn't think straight. His body telling him this was a trick but mind realizing how similarly dressed they were.She was here as a prisoner too.

"Are you okay?" Steve's voice is rough, making you flinch but scatter away from him as his hands reached out to help you up.

An unsettling feeling is ripped deep inside his stomach, bubbling red hot as he notices the darkness behind your eyes. Nothing was there, a shell of a human. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Avoiding eye contact at all cost, you pull your knees to your chest, head resting against the hard shell of knees. What did they do to this girl?

Steve's eyes run over the soft features, skin with no wrinkles, big doe eyes avoiding him. Cheeks so lively, warm with color and lips that just resembled youth. Hair was beautifully knotless, curtaining past your shoulders, small shoulders that formed into the valley of your breast, no older than 23.

He decides to keep his distance, but drops to his knees to size you. Hoping that with being eye level would make himself look less scary, dominating even. "What's your name?"

When she doesnt answer he sighs, "I'm Steve."

Before he gets a chance to speak again, a loud crackling echos the room, source the camera. "Do you like her steve? She's yours."

"Mine? What?" Eyes don't leave you, he doesn't speak for the camera, more like asking himself.

"We want to be friends with you Steve. Give us your blood and you can do whatever you want with her."

He notices how fast your chest begins to move, a small choked sound constricting from your throat. The voice the reason for the anxiousness, scaring you.

"Stop talking." Steve hisses, "i will never give you my blood and you're scaring her."

"Have it your way then." All of a sudden the small light is gone, the room is completely black, the clicking of the locks telling him someone is coming. The door hit the wall with a large thump, he swore it shook the room, he stands arms reaching out trying to get a hold of something, if something was there. A large arm reaches around his neck, before he could even react the sharp pain of a needle in his neck has him out cold.

The second time waking up was easier, his body still in full fight mode as he jumped up, trying to locate the danger. Quickly realizing it was gone, and he was alone once again. The days started to form into a week, he's given no food, forced to drink water from the leaking sink in the block room - it drives him crazy, drip, drip, drip. Stomach painfully twisting as a tray is slid from under the door- a small piece of bread, what looked like chicken broth and a banana, better then nothing at all. His mouth salivates at the salty smell of the warm soup filling his nose, almost dizzy from the lack of food. It must be his lucky day, a few hours later lunch is there too. A sandwich with an apple, they even have him a cup to drink his sink water out of.

Dinner isn't existent, but for once this whole week he is not weak, stomach not painfully squeezing inside of him. Hes not full, but satisfied. The echoing of foot steps followed by the shuffling of a shadow behind the door thinking its a late dinner but the locks unhinge, the woman revealed, two large men standing behind you as you walked in.

Steve eyes meet your face as the door is closed, your eyes avoid him at all costs. Hair perfectly flowly, features even softer than before, might even say a sight for sore eyes that have been staring at half understandable words on a page and cement walls. Except for once small detail, a countless amount of bruising ranging from small to big across your arms, most likely from the men roughing you up, grabbing harshly at the small girl.

"Hey are you okay?" He is surprised by the small squeak of a yes as you finally talk. "Why are you here?"

"I, ugh - don't know." Shakily you cross arms across the swells of your breast, a surivial instinct, protecting most vital organs. Steve chooses to ignore it, "what's your name?"

"Y/N." Its softly spoken, but a name that fits you very well. The soft patter of drops against the sink, the only sound filling the room as you finally meet his eyes. Beautiful ocean waves, big blue skies being the only words that come to mind. His features are hard bit form a devilishly handsome man, but eyes so soft reminding you of the beautiful things in life.

"Did they feed you? I have an apple left from earlier." The large red apple looks so small in his gigantic hand. You shake your head, "No, I'm okay."

"You can sit down. Do you know where we are?"

"No, I'm okay." The honest truth is men scared you, especially the largely built one who stood with so much strength that you backed away from him.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not like them."

"I just don't want you by me."

Steve nods in understanding, forehead creasing i though as his tongue runs over his lips as he looks around the room. "You can sit on the bed, I'm going to go over here."

Steve points to the opposite corner of the room, "I'm going to move now, you don't have to be scared." You want to thank him for the warning but bite your tongue and nod, making sure he reaches the other side of the room before routing yourself to the pathetic excuse of the bed.

"I see you're getting along." The voice rings from the camera as Steve's eyes squint in annoyance. He decides not to play in, his gaze burns against your skin. It wasn't in a way that was uncomfortable, but he wanted to test you, ask you questions you wouldn't answer.

"She's a gift for you steve, aren't you lonely? we want to be your friends." Steve scoffs, "last time i checked, friends don't lock each other in prisons."

"You can do whatever you want with her." The voice darkenly is suggestive with unlawful thoughts, a concept as dark as that doesn't even register in his mind.

"What does that even mean?"

"We want you to take her." Steve's forehead creases in confusion, fingers stretching lines across his forehead, but when met with the horrified look on your face realization hits him like a ton of bricks, crushing his chest. Stomach clenching as he feels sick, was this normal for you to do?

The captures realized Steve wasn't going to just give up his blood, he also wouldn't take what they gifted him. Steve Rogers was a man of a moral code, the best kind of man mixed with a gentleman, that would never hurt a lady but wouldn't ever allow one to die because of his hand either. "If you don't fuck her, we will kill her."

They will strip away every part that is good of him, take away every moral and goodness this man has, starting with taking away the fact that he has a choice on who he sleeps with. Steve's ocean blues meet yours in panic, chest tight, he couldn't breath at the suggestion.

"No."

"She will die, and it will be because of you. You could've saved her Steve." This isn't right, the giant pit in his stomach screaming in horror as the words leave your mouth, "it's okay steve."

Your welcoming this, accepting it is survival but he isn't standing for it. His eyes water, he feels sick, taking away the one sense of security you posses, your choice and willing accepting that is gone. "No. I am not doing that."

"You're doing to let me die?" No, he wasn't going to that either. "They're not lying, they will slit my throat the moment I walk out of here."

"You can't even look in my eyes let alone do this!" Feelings getting the best of him as the wall crumbles underneath his power, bloody knuckles spreading the redness across his face as he rubs it stressfully.

"You have 30 seconds Steven." The voice warns, threatening is more like it.

"It's okay, i know you won't hurt me." Your soft voice is what makes him really choke up, an angel that didnt deserve this. Steve's weight is on top of you, his hand pressed against the matress supporting most of it. A hand so shaky he can't even pull at the strings of your sweats so instead you pull them down revealing what should be your choice to him.

"I am so sorry." It was a choked sob filled with so much sadness, a gruff from the chest that made even your heart break for him right now. He closes his eyes, preventing the tears from falling but in a forced moment like this, couldn't find himself to find excitment, but the fact that this was going to be life or death out weighed his feelings.

It was a small kiss, a peck barely there against his clothed shoulder made him gasp, not expecting the comfort in this moment. You of all people, comforting him, a sobbing mess of a man while your innocence he was taking unwillingly. The wetness of his tears meeting your cheeks, sliding down as he pushes into you and with that his heart breaking.

It continued for days, over and over again they make him get to know every part of your body, he begs them to stop, you tell him its okay, that this is how it has to be, but he can't take it. Sleeping soundly he watches you, peacefully in a peaceful world unlike this one. You don't care much for his touch, but sleep is the one place you don't scower from it. Its hard not to be close, the twin matress making it nearly impossible to not touch. The dark blush of the bruising is starting to fade, hand softly rubbing over the skin as you breath heavily. Chest is moving with every breath, lips slightly parted, beautiful.

Warm against him, he is glad you can sleep. It's been days since he has, guilt eating him alive, which is exactly what they want. They will continue to make him disgrace you until he breaks and allows them to give him the blood, and willingly participates in their experiments. The loud sound of cement crumbling following loud booms makes him clutch you close to his chest, back facing the door to protect you at all costs. Your awake now, breathing heavily into the chest as the sound of bullets ripple from outside of the door he coos. "Its okay, its okay. I'll protect you."

Nothing else is said as the fight outside continues until it stops, you look up at him, looking for answers until eyes widen in fear as the locks of the door sound. They were coming back for you. Steve turns, pushing you behind him as he stands tall, a man ready to fight.

"Buck?" It's just above a whisper as a tall man, almost as big as him stands. A metal arm, long black hair that reaches his shoulders.

"Steve we got to go." The girl is only noticeable when he reaches around to grab your hand, Bucky notices the messy hair, dried lips and the dark bruising against your arms. "She's coming with us."

The sunlight hurts, you cover your eyes quickly as you almost stumble to your knees trying to keep up with the two large men as bullets wiz past. Steve's arms are lifting you by the waist, nudging you to get back up. The quinjet sits only feet away, a tall, dark man yelling incoherent sounds over the swooshing of the blades in the air. In seconds the metal of the floor is cold against bare feet, door closing, it was safe.

Taking a deep breath your eyes running over the tower of Steve as the jet takes off. Bucky can't help but notice the shortening of breath from the small girl, coldness of the metal arm making you jump away in shock, "are you okay?"

"n-no!"

"Buck, buck, don't." Steve reaches for him, taking the artificial touch from her. "She doesn't like being touched. "

You feel trapped in here, three large men making it suffocating in this tiny box, that some how seemed even more freeing than the one you've grown so used to despite being high in the clouds.

"Breathe sweetheart." Steve coos, sinking down to your size, arms reaching out but not quite touching. "Its just me, my touch is good."

His touch is filled with unwanting pleasure, a reminder of what was taken away from you but also a certain gentleness that made you feel safe and secure. You don't let him touch you but nod at his words, following the rythm of his breathing from the pattern of his chest.

"What the fuck happened there?" Bucky wanted to say what the fuck is wrong with you but noticed how uncomfortable you already were.

"I just need to sit down." Steve looked broken as well as he sat finally, still feet away from you. Hands rubbing over his face, as a small cry feel from his lips. Any other time being captured by enemy lines wouldn't even affect him, but he didn't feel like the same man, he was a disgusting excuse of one that fell victim to them, they might have not gotten his blood but did strip the one piece of him he held dearly: his moral code.

Bucky chest squeezes as his best friends sorrow, hand meeting his back, rubbing soft circles of comfort. You watch every second of it, this was bound to happen, you saw the change every time he was forced to touch you, the breaking away of his head, of what he stood for but most of wishing you could accept touch like that, comfort, but any man that touched you only brought pain, physically and in the cause mentally. The ride was quiet once Steve managed to stop crying, didn't dare to talk, the emotion still raw in his chest, afraid it would start again. Once on the ground, a group of people surround him, hugs, kisses to his cheeks. Once again you were envy of his acceptance, the thought making you sick. Steve showed you to a room, placing a pair of what looked like his clothes at the end of the freshly made bed. "You can lock the door when I leave if you'll feel safer." Nails nervously scratching the back of his neck, "You can shower, and if you need me I'm right across the hall, goodnight."

Steve wanted to talk, apologize for what he had done to you but didn't also thought the events of today were enough, you deserved a goodnights rest.

Steve's clothing hung loosely from wet skin, the sweats needed to be rolled, sweater reaching mid-thigh. Sleep did not come easy, noisy sounds of the busy city, honks, and whizzing cars, something you weren't used to being secluded for so long. Anxiety bubbling deep inside your chest, burning your skin. The constant fear that they would come back for you, take you away with just a taste of this freedom.

It was strange but you missed the security, the sense of being protected by him, a feeling you have never felt before. Quietly you enter his room, he's not sleeping just deep in thought as he stares at the ceiling, not noticing your entrance.

"Steve?" Rolling your hands nervously into sweater paws as looks at you with worry. "What's wrong?"

He's sitting up now, ready for anything, trying to figure out the emotions of your face you keep so guarded. "I can't sleep."

He lays back down, hand extending opening the covers to allow you in. Thankfully he doesn't try to touch you. Running over the defined features of his face, ocean eyes so soft. For the first time ever he looks relaxed despite the dark circles under his eyes, the ocean surrounded by a deep red of regret, disgust in himself. He offers a sweet smile, which you can't find yourself to return but try your best.

Closing your eyes feels nice, his breath in your ear, you feel safe as you slip into a world of peacefulness. But not before hearing, "I'm sorry. Sweet dreams sweetheart."

Note: if you want to be tagged in the next two parts, comment below! Part 2 comes with the reader learning to accept his touch and unexpected surprise.

[thecobaltcoyote]

In the wake of Avatar: The Last Airbender coming to Netflix two thoughts returned to my mind. The first god this show is dope and the second was a thought about The Legend of Korra I heard a lot; jeez the movement for the bending is so wrong. I am of two minds on this. On the one hand yes the bending is a little off but it is a different world there aren’t as many traditional things as before, but on the other hand it looks janky at some points to see what is either Sanshou or Kickboxing used to control the elements. Granted the bending battles were that worlds mma a counter culture and less traditional way of bending with its own ideology. I don’t hate the martial art choice for the bending arena scenes but outside and at a few points it seemed off even for me. (e.g whenever a punch was thrown for water bending) So in the light of this I thought I’d share some martial arts I think could’ve reflected the new world outside of bending battles.

Quick note: Airbending will be excluded because as far as I can remember and have been told shaolin traditions don’t change and that was the basis and inspiration

Waterbending: Jeet Kune Do

Alright so here’s the point where you go “alright OP what’s the real martial art?” But I actually feel this one fits, the philosophy is be water and a lot of the techniques Bruce Lee would display involved more whip like and fluid movement for it. It’s not perfect but it is about flowing finding a center and being both stilled with your chi and another’s. Also to more properly balance with Korra a more her own style character it would have worked for her throughout the series as a whole.

Earth bending: Muay Boran

This one feels easier to explain, Muay Boran is a very strong and power heavy attack that requires its user to be stern and unmovable at points kind of like the Earth. While elbows and knees may be odd to animate for rock throwing the art also allows itself for some dynamic striking and kicking and fast punches that can be thrown as well. The style is strong and hits hard like a boulder smashing through who couldn’t see an earthbender hitting like this.

Fire bending: Karate

I feel this will be the hardest sell. So, I’ll share a lesson I learned the first time I went to the dojo in advanced lessons. Karate techniques are at their strongest when you tense at impact and relax after. Much like how a flame burns brightest before it dissipates. Also I believe that a lot of karate techniques help fit the way of movement firebenders had before and keep in line with their style of being ferocious but also needing control and some peace as to not burn themselves.

[ianite-simp]

dark!karl pt.4

getting wild up in here, angst is slowly ramping up :)

“I’ll try the armour on!” Mianite chirped, eagerly taking the enchanted armour from Karl.

“My lord, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It’s probably cursed or somethin’,” Karl earnestly tried to dissuade the young god from the risky plan. After recovering the armour the Darkness had worn in their grueling fight, they spent almost an entire day arguing about what to do with it. Personally, Karl thought it would be for the best if they just destroyed the lot. It had a strange, ethereal glow to it unlike regular enchanted armour. It could only lead to trouble. Mianite grinned cheekily, tapping the brim of Karl’s cap, pulled low over his eyes - it was the only thing that could hide the now almost entirely glinting, pitch black depths of his eyes, along with the scarf wrapped tightly across his face to disguise the other side effects of the Darkness’ momentary connection to him. No one questioned them after he claimed he just wanted to upgrade his look - why would they? They just thought he was trying to look like a strange cowboy.

“Don’t worry about it, my champion. I am a god, after all.” Without a moment's hesitation, Mianite pulled the full set of armour on taking a moment to adjust it to fit properly. He spun around with a wide grin, his arms spread out wide. “Well, what do you-” Mid-sentence, his face contorted painfully, and he doubled over, as though struck from behind.

“My lord?” Karl stepped forward hesitantly, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder. Mianite’s hand shot up, grabbing Karl’s wrist in a vice-like grip. He straightened abruptly, the once sunny face of the god Karl knew and respected twisted into a strange, cruel visage. 

“I’d take better care of your god, if I were you Karl.” The Darknesses’ harsh, rasping voice emitted from Mianite’s mouth like some sort of trick a ventriloquist would play. But this was no magic trick. Wrenching his hand away, Karl sprinted towards the beach - a point where he could take off easily enough with his elytras.

“Jordan, Tom, get out of here!” He yelled panickedly over his shoulder, as he shot into the air, the familiar feeling of the wind rushing against him acting as a small spot of comfort. How could that happen? Why didn’t I stop him? This is all my bloody fault. He reached a high point above the islands, and attempted to pull himself into a controlled circle. The weather wasn’t on his side, unfortunately, and gusts seemed determined to send him plummeting to the ground. It only took a moment for him to spot Jordan and Tom, with the Darkness somehow easily pursuing them. There was no way they’d be able to handle him in another fight, especially in the air, and Karl didn’t want to do anything that would harm Mianite. As Jordan shot by him, struggling to bombard the Darkness with arrows, Karl called loudly out to him, “Jordan, get Ianite’s help! She was down there with us, she has to do something!” Jordan, though struggling to maintain his complex flight pattern, did as asked, diving towards the islands. Helplessly gliding far above, Karl watched the Darkness launching volleys of attacks on Tom, as he tried to distract him from Jordan’s efforts.

Within a minute, the Darkness suddenly froze in place, tendrils of black and purple light winding around his torso like a straightjacket. Ianite’s usually bubbly expression was frozen in a small scowl, as she drew the temporarily trapped being towards her, evidently putting all her strength into it. Dropping into a steep dive, Karl stumbled to a stop alongside her, his eyes fixated on the hate-filled expression contorting Mianite’s face. “It’s pointless trying to capture me sister. I have become more powerful than anything you could conjure up in your visions.” The voice was a combination of Mianite’s confident tones and the grating sounds of the Darkness’. It repulsed Karl, yet he stood still where he was. Ianite rolled her eyes at the declaration, turning to the three champions instead.

“I’ll be bringing him back to Asgard to try and purge this thing from him.” Her eyes flitted to Karl, and he heard a soft voice in his head, much more soothing than what he had ever heard from the Darkness.

He’ll be fine. My brother is rash, it was not your fault.

Karl couldn’t bring himself to give any other response than a small nod. But the instant before they vanished, the all-too familiar tones of the Darkness echoed in his mind.

Imagine following a god as weak as the form I am in...

Then with a small pop, the two gods vanished into thin air. “That was insane,” Tom broke the silence, running a hand through his hair. Jordan nodded mutely in agreement, clearly still mulling over what had happened. “Listen, Karl, why don’t you join Cap, Hermod, and I for a round of mead. It’s on me.” Karl shook his head at Tom’s suggestion. He needed to get away, if anything. He needed space to think, to be alone.

“I’m good right now, catch up with you later mates.” Raising a hand in farewell, he turned to trod slowly back towards his house.

Hours later, he found himself in Mianite’s new temple, the temple his god had created after the first one became demolished. Normally he found it a bright, comforting place to sit and think in. But with Mianite gone, it seemed cold and austere, almost like a crypt. A chill stole over him, a chill that sunk into his bones, a chill that reminded him of the sensation that always crept over him when he looked into the neverending depths of the void in the End. His bare feet softly padding across the smooth floor, he made his way to the front of the temple where he kneeled in front of the glistening throne. It was polished to the point where he could see his own reflection staring back morosely. 

Dreading to see the extent of the damage to his face, he first removed the wide brimmed hat from his now ruffled hair, then carefully unwound the dark blue scarf from his face. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room. The amount of light seemed to only agitate the burning sensation in them, a pain that just intensified as the days passed. He had learned not to rub at them, because that only caused thin rivulets of a thick black substance to trail slowly down his cheeks. The stuff stained like nothing else, and he spent hours trying to scrub it from his pillow when he mistakenly swiped a hand across it.. But he was used to the sight of the lifeless, deep black eyes. It was his skin that had started to worry him. At first, the grey skin had only appeared under his eyes, like shadows from not getting enough sleep. But it soon grew darker, spreading further around his eyes and slowly down his cheeks - giving him the look of someone not quite alive. Thin cracks formed, fracturing the skin like a statue about to crumble. 

He reached a hand up to lightly touch the infected skin, wincing as a few flakes fluttered down. When the skin crumbled away it felt like hundreds of tiny needles had been stabbed into the site. A deep sigh escaped him, as his shoulders slumped, and his eyes fell to the base of the throne. “What did I do wrong? Why did it have to be me, and my god? I don’t… I’ve been tryin’ and tryin’ to figure it out but I dunno why. Am I not good enough? Not strong enough?” His voice cracked slightly, as he croaked out the words in a hushed voice. 

He didn’t expect a reply. He knew he wouldn’t be getting one, what with the state Mianite was in. I failed him. I failed my god. I could’ve protected him, but instead I let the Darkness take him. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he could just cry, just let his emotions escape him. Things would be so much easier if he only didn’t have to feel. A sticky, thin trickle of the black substance inched its way down the brittle skin of his cheek, falling onto his loosely folded hands.

It’s not too late to accept my offer, Karl.

A scoff escaped Karl as he heard the voice of the Darkness rumble in his head. “As if. You screwed with my god, man. That was taking it too far. And have you seen me? I’m a walking disaster after that shitty stunt you pulled.”

If you join me, you will be healed. You’ll be restored to your proper self, Karl. But it will be better, because you’ll have access to powers you could never get with one of those little godlings. 

“I’m not looking for power, mate, I just want to be normal. That’s what you don’t understand.”

I know more of you than you would think. You don’t truly want to just be “normal”. You crave respect, to be recognized as someone worthy of it. You fear the memory of old friends will be stronger than any connection you can ever make. If you simply accept my offer-

Karl pushed himself to his feet, snatching up the scarf and hat from the floor. “You,” his voice trembled, but he steeled himself quickly, “have no idea who I am. I don’t want anything you have to offer.” In all honesty, the offers were growing more and more tempting. To be healed, to be accepted, and to simply be happy? The others will never accept you if you make a deal with the Darkness. Don’t you get that? He hesitated though, still struggling to fight the temptation. With that much power, they’d have to accept me. They’d have no other option.

No, no. What was he even thinking? Force his friends to accept him? What kind of lunatic would actually do that? His resolve strengthened, he reassembled his hat and scarf disguise, and turned to stride towards the large doorway. 

One last thought for you, Karl. Do you really want to side with a god that would willingly risk himself and his people to satisfy an idle whim? Do you truly support a god so selfish?

Of everything the Darkness had thrown at him, it was the only thing that truly planted a tiny seed of doubt. Out of everything that had happened to him, it seemed like his loyalty and trust in Mianite would always be a constant source of comfort. He’d always be able to turn to him when he was in need - or so he had thought.

The Darkness’ words kept repeating in Karl’s ears, the doubt he felt towards his god growing stronger and stronger. Still, he refrained from doing anything until he could see Mianite face-to-face again. Maybe it was just somehow a misunderstanding. Maybe the Darkness was only saying it to pin him against his own god. He couldn’t just renounce his god as casually as Tom had done. Mianite was still his anchor, and he couldn’t let go of that.

But it all changed the day of the judgments. When he had to capture his own god at sword point, force him into a cell to guard. Staring through the small openings in the door, the god Karl had once been proud to be announced champion of was nothing more than a sneaking, suspicious shell of his former self. Or had he really been like that all along, and Karl just never noticed? 

His turn in the tank came too soon, he was too lost in his thoughts to properly process what was happening to him, until he was sealed into the tank. The water surrounded him, pushing down from all sides. He felt like he was slowly being dissolved into nothingness. The rather warm water felt scalding through the scarf he clung to, keeping his face as concealed as possible. The short duration he spent submerged felt like an eternity, and when his lungs began to burn with the need for air, the water was suddenly gone, and he heard the whispering voice of the judgment tank in his ear.

Darkness

[randombtsprincessa]

Bells and Roses

All Rights Reserved © Randombtsprincessa/Tulips98

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 4.4k

Genre: Smut

Summary: You pay your muse a visit. Or alternatively; you and Jimin haven’t defined a relationship but does it stop you from turning it wild? Lol no.

Warning: Jimin dancing, no real relationship defined, pink! Jimin, a lot of handsy behaviour, fingering, oral (female receiving), riding, sub! Jimin, unprotected sex (be safe kiddos)!

A/N: Happy Birthday, my love, my life, my beautiful Park Jimin! I was inspired for this fic from Cake Waltz! You can listen to it while reading this!

I love feedback!

An idle glance was cast at the delicate chain watch circling your wrist, eyes flickering over the glittery digits before returning to the front of the hall. A hush fell over the murmuring crowds surrounding you, the well-dressed masses shifting and straightening in their plush seats with their eyes drawing to the front as well where the spotlights had been directed.

You waited keenly, the rest of the ambient lights dimming till darkness hid you in its embrace, masking away the slight change in your face, if any occurred.

You, of course, knew it was inevitable. You were an expressive person, some might say a little highly strung, but it was all in a day’s work. You were here to have fun, let loose. Maybe even get another stroke of inspiration but you weren’t going to be specific about it.

This wasn’t about you, not really.

The curtains rose and colors exploded in your vision.

A dusky shade of pink was first, circling spotlights forming a halo upon the wooden stage where stood perfectly posed, curled ballerinas in glittering costumes of the same pink. The pink light dimmed, the ballerinas sinking to the floor with their feet curled behind them, a bow of sorts.

Another light burned, a blinding silver this time, hitting just the edge of the curtains and unbidden, your body lurched forward in anticipation.

The light flickered, building tension as a brush of strings echoed, followed by a deep thrum of beats that pulsed in your blood. It was an unusual combination, mellow, sweet tinkles that contrasted against the sultry bass, sending chills down your back.

The spotlight was back and from it – just as the beat dropped – emerged the reason why you were here, sitting among people who held no delight for you.

The figure threw itself into a spin that had you gasping in concern, feet flying over where a head should be, before landing squarely in the centre of the second spotlight, this time a raging purple. Loose, white shirt that hung around the torso and black tights caught the light, glinting and winking at the audience with its sequins.

No, your delight lay in this, watching the figure unfurl, standing straight and proud, a tilt to his head that had him eyeing the crowd, a particular trance in those orbs that made you bite into the glossed surface of your lip.

The ballerinas moved in synchrony, as they reached up on their toes, a perfect throw arabesque pointing towards the figure of your interest but he still didn’t move, taking his time to study the audience that watched. You sent a silent thanks to the darkness that shielded you because when he was done, he turned his back to the stage before opening the dance with a pirouette, a brush of his fingers trailed onto each dancer that had been turned to him.

You slumped in your seat, chin stuck to your chest as headiness clouded your mind. Your eyes never strayed, fixed on the man that pranced, settled and then took flight (almost literally) on the stage. The bass never seemed to reduce his pace, his feet, encased in white, following the faerie precision of the composition.

The dance was a mix of his contemporary and ballet, the ballerinas more an accessory on the stage, paling next to his vitality but of course you could be biased. It wasn’t like you even saw what the girls and boys in the tutus were doing. Your eyes were fixed on the man who with a roll of his neck, turned a seducer and then as innocent with big glimmering eyes and a too familiar pout.

The music went on, and your delight soared with him.

It was almost too short but it was more than enough for you, overwhelmed as you got to your feet with the rest of the audience when they rose for a standing ovation.

He finished off the dance with an over exaggerated flourish, a mischief that he loved when he knew that he had rendered a mind blowing performance. His head was tilted again, eyes roving.

You could’ve sworn there was a hint of a smirk brewing on his face but there was no way it could’ve been aimed at you. You had shrouded yourself from him exquisitely. He had no business having that smirk on his face.

Park Jimin

The name lay as exquisitely upon your tongue as the finest wine, the sweetest delicacy. Meeting him had been the rarest coincidences, but knowing him now felt like serendipity. You had been a fresh out of college artist, eager with your skill and your degree.

Everything had been lovely until you were prompted to hold your own exhibition in one of your friend’s galleries and you were struck without inspiration. Landscapes…cityscapes…abstract…nothing seemed to fit. Canvases were discarded, paints tossed around, palettes and brushes broken in frustration and quite a few tears shed before an impromptu walk through the city landed you standing dubiously in front of the Theatre.

Slumped in one the same chairs as you had been, you’d laid eyes first on the lead dancer for Calico Dance Academy, the rising star. You had both been much younger back then but even then he had been graceful, sleek like a striking cobra and just as entrancing.

He had basically pried your third eye open with his beauty. So, when you learned that his doors were open for admirers, you knew you had to take your chance.

You gazed at the bouquet in your hand, clasped loosely within your fingers as you studied the flowers.

“How may I help you?”

You flinched at the customary questioned posed to you by the cheerful florist, soft cheeks lifting as she welcomed you to the counter.

“Yes, hi,” you stammered before clearing your throat. “I would like some flowers, please.”

“You’ve come to the right place.” The girl laughed softly, but not deprecatingly, moving to the side so you could see the arrangements behind her. “How would you like them?”

You studied the shelves, moving from the simple collection of a few stems tied neatly together to an extravagant affair of lilies and daffodils, too big for you to carry.

You thought back to the night before and the lapels of the man’s costume.

“Can I customize a bouquet, with sunflowers and roses? And could you add those small bells to it?”

It was relatively easier, finding Jimin’s delivery address and dropping the flowers off. The studio was not too big, considering the academy was still finding itself but Jimin was certainly quick to find you, following you out one day when you were done leaving the flowers at the front desk.

“Hey, you’re the secret admirer.”

You turned to see the beaming man taking quick steps towards you, still in a tight black shirt and leggings that enhanced his thighs. You were surprised to say he was much shorter up front and that much more beautiful.

He smiled at the startled look on your face and you could’ve sworn flowers blossomed from the cracks of the concrete sidewalk.

“You leave me flowers,” he prompted.

You nodded, more for your sake than his as he stuck out his hand. “It’s not much of a point being a secret admirer. Let’s make friends.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Some people would like a secret admirer.” You told him, catching his hand in yours nevertheless.

“Some people would also be creeped out by it but you seem nice. I’m Jimin, and you are…?”

You stared at the expectant look on his face, a part of you itching with some indescribable emotion.

“Y/N,” you managed at last. “I’m Y/N.”

Park Jimin proved to be a great friend. With the most charming disposition, he was also equally brainy. As clichéd as it seemed, he helped you see things that you didn’t in your not so humble artistic perspective. He was a storm, bubbling with gossamer energy and you had never been so grateful to have your life thrown in the path of so impressive a storm.

So, after a soft afternoon spent in the park with ice cream after his practice you popped your question.

“So…you know, I am a painter right?” you asked lightly.

Jimin slurped at his strawberry scoop delicately. “Yup,”

“I was, just thinking, you know, that – if you don’t mind awfully – I could paint…you, I guess.”

Jimin stopped with his tongue still gracing the side of his scoop, his eyes flickering to yours in amazement. “You want to…paint me?” He asked.

You shook yourself a little, ready to save face. “It was just a thought. I mean, you don’t have to even consider it. I know most people get freaked by the thought of getting painted and it’s a whole lot of hassle.”

Jimin cut you off, laughing as he streaked an ice cream soaked finger across your cheek. You squealed in turn, sliding away from him on the seat.

“Stop trying to put me off, Y/N. Of course, I’d model for you. I’d be honored. We can go now; I have all the time in the world.” Jimin leaned in and before you could even register the motion, he’d kissed the line of pink sugar from your skin, popping his lips as he did so, careless and ignorant of the way your eyes lingered on his mouth.

Four hours later, your masterpiece was ready of sorts. Jimin held still the way you told him to, hair fluffed as he stared out your window in one of his somber stage expressions.

“God, Y/N,” Jimin grinned, peering over your shoulder, watching you apply the small shades and contours to his neck and collarbones. You’d yanked his sweater down a little, much to Jimin’s amusement to reveal the sharp bones beforehand. You thanked your insight now; they looked beautiful in the fading evening sunlight.

“Is that a good god or a bad god?” You halted your hand, staring at the picture in trepidation before Jimin laid a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Good, Y/N, I can’t wait to see myself up on your friend’s wall.”

You invited Jimin with your customary selection of flowers, delivered to his house this time, the invitation to the exhibition tucked within the stems.

It seemed Jimin was much more excited about the exhibition because he showed up an hour before you; seeking his picture while you ignorantly mingled, clueless until you spotted a familiar figure, studying the one picture you were responsible for.

“Jimin,” You called the man, his head tilted to the side as he stared at his likeness against the lavender wall.

“Y/N,” he greeted, not looking at you, thankfully because you were blatantly staring at your friend.

You had never had occasion to see Park Jimin in a suit but by god, it was a sight.  

Tight black satin clung to his figure, stretching over his shoulders and hugging his waist. “I see you found your picture.” You had to smile.

Jimin turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t know if it’s the lighting or the finishing touches but I do look mighty fine. You picked a fantastic model.”

You shoved at him. “That’s just your ego talking. I have it on good authority that the painting is just fine.”

He pouted at that. “What have I said about the self depreciation, Y/N?” He didn’t wait for an answer, aiming a hopeful look at his own self. “So, when do you need another painting of a hunk?”

It was during the third painting that you and Jimin ended up on your too messy bed. Fast, rough and brilliant, Jimin rolled off of you in a daze, eye glimmering in the shadows.

“If I’d known you felt that good, I’d have jumped on you sooner.” You managed in a huff, causing Jimin to break out in a guffaw that lasted well into the minutes that you took to clean up and slip into a nightgown.

He stayed on his back, gloriously naked with no signs of wanting to pull the comforter up across his body. You stepped cautious when you saw that the light in his eyes had changed, something deeper and serious flickering in them now.

“What’s wrong?” you’d asked.

Jimin was mum for a while before speaking, “I don’t want you to think of this the wrong way.” He said slowly before wincing, realizing the start had been wrong itself.

He sat up, finally tugging on the covers to recover some dignity. “I meant, I don’t want you to think that I’m just into the whole wham-bam-thank you ma’am thing.”

You continued to frown, silence prodding him into further speech.

“I want this, I really do but I don’t know how much time I can devote to you.” He said finally.

You broke out laughing. “Jimin, you know we don’t have to define a relationship just because we slept together one time. We can still be friends.”

“I don’t want to just be friends though. I want to define something, just in case you go and find some other muse.”

It had taken a few days to discuss out terms to define a relationship between you and Jimin. Both of you were busy people, what with your exhibits picking up and needing you to focus on extensive travel while he toured for his own shows.

You didn’t want to look it to face but you knew Jimin was a very attractive man with a healthy amount of libido that needed to go around along his charisma. That was one of the first things you’d brought up; exclusivity. However, your friend turned potential lover had quickly shot the idea down, vehemently stating he would very much appreciate some form of stability, something solid to come back to.

Did that answer any of your questions? No, neither did you manage to put a finger to what exactly it was that Jimin and you were.

However, it did not stop either of you from falling into bed with each other whenever Jimin and you happened to be in the same city.

You were at your florist again; much more upright and sure of your order this time as you smiled at the long term girl friend behind the counter.

“Y/N! It’s been a while.” She greeted, straightening the uniform cap perched on her bleached hair.

“Hey Solji, yes it has.” You agreed, your eyes screening the assortment of flowers.

“I take it the special receiver of the flower is back in town then?” She asked, moving to the usual selection of sunflowers, fresh and dewy, high near the sun.

“How do you know?” you gasped, looking around as Solji smirked, wrapped a pretty blue paper around the roses and sunflowers.

“I’ve been wrapping flowers for a good many years, Y/N. I’ve seen a lot of flower givers. You’re timed and only get one particular customization. Of course, he or she is special.” She plucked out a tiny string of small bells before tying the package off.

“Pretty observant, I’ll have to be more careful.”

“Or one day you can just introduce us,” she teased back, cashing you out. The soft giggles followed you a good way as you carried the bouquet towards Jimin’s building.

It had been a few months since Jimin had moved out of the small apartment that he’d had to share with roommates. With the success and acclaim that followed his dancing troupe, he had purchased an apartment of his own, making it easier for you to show up whenever you wanted to.

You deigned to be sneaky about your approach, leaving a small painting of his last performance, on cheap canvas first at his doorstep, sliding it in and ringing the doorbell, quickly concealing yourself in the alcove of the stairs. You watched the door swing open quickly before a head peeked around, looking slyly around before shutting the door again.

You let out a giggle, flitting down again to place the bouquet in front of the door when the door flew open again, nearly scaring you into heart palpitations as you were met by the crinkle eyed grin of none other than Park Jimin.

Clad in baggy grey pants and a pale blue shirt, stood the man who’d been your muse ever since you’d laid eyes on him. As your eyes drifted over his features you fixated on one change that had you gaping.

“Jimin,” you gasped out, “…your hair is pink!”

On his part, he looked sheepish, raising a hand to pat at his head before opening the door wider to let you slide in, swiping the bouquet from your hand and taking a whiff.

“Ah, my favorite,” he sighed, complacent as you looked down the apartment you hadn’t stepped into for months now.

The deep, woody scent of new furniture still lingered, clearly from having been locked ever since he got it and you wondered if you should’ve gotten a bigger bouquet so he could smell something better than varnish.

The sweet bliss of his arms wrapping around you diverted your attention, turning to look up at him.

“I saw your name in the audience listing.” He mumbled, lowering his head to nuzzle within the crook of your neck.

“And hence the smirk,” you realized, placing both hands on his chest. “You knew I was there. And here I thought, I’d surprise you,”

“I always check audience listings in case some company is scouting.” He shrugged before smiling slyly. “So, did someone miss me?”

“Nope,” you shrugged away, walking off to remove your coat, knowing that Jimin was sporting a spectacular pout by now. Such a spoilt baby…

“Ugh, come on, I missed you, you know…pay attention!” He whined, catching you near the couch, back to wrapping his arms around you.

Spinning you around he caught your lips in a nostalgic kiss, scorching in the way his plump petals caressed yours, trying to find a break in your armor.

You let him find it, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tugged you closer, a satisfied hum escaping the pair of you, his hand drifting over your waist and back before pulling away.

“I wanted to come back ever since I got on the plane you know,” he told you.

You smiled, remembering the pained expression with which he had dropped your hand, disappearing through security with his eyes returning to you every few seconds.

“I know, I could tell.” You brushed kisses over his jaw line.

He tilted his head back before looking down at you, amber eyes glinting in the afternoon sun beaming into his living room. “Stay with me.” He whispered, a lull of command in his voice that made the dull ache in your stomach sharpen, keening you towards him.

He raised his eyebrows in a way that told you he knew his effect on you and you allowed him to bask in the knowledge. “I already planned to.” You let him know.

“Good, because I’m taking you to bed and not letting you up until we’re hungry and gross.” He said, not waiting for a reply as he tugged on your hand, leading you further into his home.

You barely had time to glance around the space before Jimin was locking the bedroom door, pressing your bodies up against it and leaning over you. Warm breath wafted over your bottom lip when he brushed his against your tingling skin.

Your hands crept up his back, moving to pink fleece on his head. It must’ve been hard to maintain it without getting it fried completely but the strands felt silky enough with your eyes closed.

Jimin walked backwards, hands drifting down to his shirt and pulling it off and moving to his windows, drawing the shades and casting the room in gloomy lighting.

“Come on then,” he grinned and you followed, pulling at your clothes until they decorated your steps towards him where he sat on his bed, watching you with his lip caught between his teeth. The strip tease probably wasn’t as sexy as you wanted it to be but at least you tried and by the looks of it, it was enough.

Jimin’s hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing with abandon. “I missed your skin, your warmth.” His eyes drifted to you lazily, his fingers moving to the band of your simple underwear. You placed your hands on his shoulders, balancing yourself as he began to tug the garment down your legs, the action even more erotic when he groaned; catching sight of your glistening slit.

Jimin’s thick fingers landed first at your knees, slipping around the back and sliding upwards, his eyes still glued to yours, minutely examining each expression or change that passed over your face. The way you tilted your head back before down again to look at his actions, the small pants; they were only making Jimin harder, wanting to rip into you with wild, wicked intentions. He held control, of course, no need to rush.

His breath hitched when his thumb finally made contact with the apex of your thighs, eyes flashing to the point of contact before up at you again. Was that a hint of apprehension?

“You’re already wet.” He mumbled, your eyes fluttering and cheeks reddening but you held fast to him.

Jimin had clearly been working out. His shoulders were broader; muscles more pronounced at you latched yourself on them while he attended to you in his gentle yet teasing ways.

And then he lowered his mouth…

You were glad that you had had the foresight of grabbing Jimin before because even before those luscious lips touched your skin, you were buckling, a rampant moan escaping you when he carefully parted your slick flesh, exposing your clit to his punishing tongue. Jimin pulled away, his tongue swirling before retreating back.

“I missed your heat.” He said before diving back in.

There were few things in your life that compared to Jimin giving head. Maybe the first time you had seen him naked, his skin glowing but still full, nothing chiseled about him as of then. Now he was harder, his planes more defined but you loved him just as much, the rake of your fingernails still shone the same and your kisses worn with as much pride as he used to.

Jimin was far into you for you to think much ahead. The way his hand migrated to hitch your leg up, placing it on the bed next to him to give him more access before dipping his fingers into you, curving the way he knew he reached your sweet spot, waiting for the groan to be satisfied before he returned to sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue pushing forward so he could collect more of your juices on his tongue.

He barely took a breath, finally pulling away and retracting his fingers from you gently, feeling the tightness of you close on his hand, trying to keep him there.

“Fuck, don’t be greedy, babe. You’ll get what you want.” He chuckled, deep and throaty. His eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown out.

You’d loved that, how he could be so fucked out even when he barely received any pleasure himself.

You removed your hands from his shoulders, studying him carefully. His cheeks were sunk in, a little more angular than you remembered. His biceps bulged where he leant on them, his thighs were thicker. You made a mental note to feed him while you had him here and another to ride his delicious legs while you were at it.

Jimin smiled a little at your scrutiny, “Y/N, what are you thinking?”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead reaching up to undo your bra, letting it drop at his feet. “I’m thinking…I want to ride you.”

Jimin’s mouth dropped, you could see him clearly swallow before he was nodding. “Yeah, okay, we can make that happen.”

He began to back further onto the bed but you stopped him, placing a hand on his knees to bunch the material of his sweats and tugging at them.

Your lover gave you a wide eyed stare. “Like this?”

Your eyes ran up the newly acquired abs, placing a kiss directly on them. He clenched at the contact. “Like this,” you whispered.

Jimin was quick to lose the sweats at that, eyeing you for further instruction as you flicked your hair behind you, placing a knee on the bed beside his hip and the other on his chest, anchoring yourself as he held himself at the base, angling the tip to brush against your entrance. You sighed, the thrum of his groan as you sat down on him bracing you.

The stretch burned you deliciously, the girth of him sliding against the right spots as you tried to get him in as deep as you could.

Jimin’s back arched, the tips of his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he mumbled unknown, unheard words. His eyes opened to see you kneeling over him.

“Fuck me, please.” He begged, a hint of desperation plaguing him that you couldn’t ignore.

Raising yourself, still using your hands for support, you dropped back down, using his pants of breath as a metronome, your hips gyrating and thrusting in time with him.

Jimin lay obediently still below you, letting you fuck the both of you into a pleasurable oblivion. His skin was starting to collect sheen.

You bent over him, feeling him whimper before bracing himself against the floor and thrust up into your warmth. His hands moved up your back, digging into certain special spots before wrapping into your hair, trapping you against him as you sunk your teeth in his shoulder, hiding cries of pleasure that he could hear anyway.

“Are you close?” He asked, yanking on your hair to look at your face, contorted a little.

“So close,” You arched your back, further pushing your body into his skillful hands.

“Good, me too, I want you to come with me.” Jimin let his hand cup a breast, while the other fell where your bodies connected. His thumbs set to work, rubbing sparks of extra pleasure into your peaking nipple and clit.

You whined, back tilting as your nails dug into his thighs as you exploded on top of him, a similar groan sounding below you as Jimin let go as well.

You felt his seed flood you as you convulsed on him and you probably would’ve toppled over if Jimin hadn’t sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close while he kept thrusting, slowly letting you both come back down to earth.

By the way his hand moved back to your ass, a light squeeze placed on it, you knew you were far from done.

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

I'll take back what is rightfully mine to disclose.

I thought this fic was going to be longer than that -- kinda sad I didn't reach 2K words, I like consistency in my inconsistency -- but hey, I said everything I had to, so you know what? I shouldn't be frustrated over arbitrary word counts. They're not that important anyway. As soon as I saw I had gotten "Secret Revealed", I knew I'd take the opportinity to write about a scenario I've had in mind ever since starting to work for my AreOri rewrite/personal canon about Ichihoshi. Of course, since this is for my very tailored-to-my-specific-needs AU, you'll find some odd details about it that aren't Orion canon at all because canon is but a canvas and I do whatever I want with it. Sorry not sorry. I'd be glad to clear up some thing if needed though!

Warning for mentions of transphobia and one (1) insistence of deadnaming.

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Dark Side of the Moon

Summary: Sometimes, you need to reveal your secret before someone else can do that for you, even if it stings to do so. (or: backed into a corner by a blackmailer and a cunning teammate, Ichihoshi is forced to come clean about something he'd have rather kept buried in old records)

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven (Orion timeline; canon rewrite/divergence)

Wordcount: 1.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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“Ichihoshi, can we have a talk?”

He likes neither Nosaka’s voice nor expression, both sombre and strangely unenthusiastic coming from someone he’s mostly seen fool around with him even as he was committing atrocities for the sake of a cause that was wrong all along; but he has no real choice as to his reply.

“Uh… Sure thing?”

This may be a mistake he’ll end up regretting later on.

 His room is the nearest to them and they’re sure they won’t be bothered there, so they quickly find themselves in there. Nosaka stays up as he locks the door behind them, arms crossed, and the atmosphere tenses even further than it was, tense enough that he slowly closes the door on purpose, trying to avoid Nosaka’s stare despite fully knowing he won’t be escaping the upcoming confrontation.

Hikaru has an idea in the back of his mind of why they could be here, that idea being the reason of why he’s so hesitant despite the fact he fully trusts Nosaka. He truly doesn’t believe the latter is here to expose his past crimes to whatever authority would (rightfully) throw him behind bars: the intent here can’t be a nefarious one, because if that was the case, Nosaka would have brought Nishikage with him rather than send him away to train with the other goalkeepers (an excuse so the others don’t suspect something is up – he knows Nosaka just enough to be aware of that trick).

 “What do you want to tell me about?” Hikaru nonetheless asks as if he didn’t worry about it.

His chest seizes as soon as he sees Nosaka put a hand in his pocket and retrieve something that looks too familiar not to exactly be what he’s feared it’d turn out to be.

“Would you know what this is about, Ichihoshi?”

 He hands him the pastel blue piece of paper, which Hikaru takes with trembling hands and dread flowing down his very being. To his chagrin, the words align themselves perfectly in surprisingly fluent Japanese and, for once, he’d wish they’d have sent something in Russian, as they usually do to remind him of what happened to him between the accident that took his sister away and the moment Inazuma Japan somehow forgave him.

He wouldn’t have lied about the entire situation that’s been going on, sure thing, but as he reads the characters, he can only wish he’d have been able to hide a little something that, frankly, only concerns him from someone as cunning as Nosaka. Clearly, what’s expected of him isn’t an explanation but a confirmation of a deduction based on that card.

 Don’t forget our part in your journey.

 Curse Orion and curse their underhanded techniques that also seem archaic – far from the video calls with that Bernard Girikanan impostor (whose face still shows up in his nightmares at time) and the cards he’s been sent, those he’s relentlessly tainted in water and thrown into various bins across the city.

 Don’t forget you’re a freak of nature.

 Curse Orion for pouring salt into wounds that should’ve been left to cauterize long ago.

 Seeing how he isn’t answering, Nosaka takes the reins of the conversation.

“For how long have they been blackmailing you like that?”

No point in lying. If there’s someone who can make the situation stops, it’s Nosaka; there’d be no point in going against him on such dealings. If he wanted to take him down, he’d have already done so anyway.

“I’d say since the match against Saudi Arabia. I think you know why.”

“That checks out. Why didn’t you tell us? It’s not like the team is against you.”

“Well… I think you guys are dealing with Orion enough as it is. I don’t want to endanger anyone any further than I’ve already done.”

“Oh really?”

Nosaka’s doubtful tone sends an electroshock down Hikaru’s spine.

“I’m saying the truth.”

And that’s no lie – he really doesn’t want the team to get attacked by his demon anymore.  

“I’m sure you are, but you’re also not telling me about something. What’d that be?”

 Hikaru feels his tongue go numb and his throat knot. The weight in his chest solidifies, almost strangling him from the lungs up, and there’s a bitter taste in his mouth – the awareness of knowing things will soon go down and rot away.

“You… know about it already, don’t you?”

“I’ve had my suspicions ever since hearing your “other self” say something about a sister, but truly, I do not wish to impede there. I don’t want to reveal your secret with my own hands.”

Secret, huh.

“Did you tell anyone else about it?”

“I’ll admit I did discuss it a little with Nishikage, but you can entirely trust him never to leak this sort of information to the rest of the team.”

Hikaru can entirely believe that, considering how silent his other teammate usually is.

“I did my research on my own. Your sister and you were nicknamed something like the ‘Stardust Siblings’, right?”

“Y-yes, but actually…” He sighs. He’s not going to run away from this alive. “We were called the Stardust Sisters. Mitsuru and…” His throat locks into place. He can’t say it. It won’t come out of his mouth. “…me.”

Nosaka offers him a smirk.

“Your sister is still alive, right?”

 The sudden change of topics relaxes his throat, allowing him to breathe again.

“Yes, or at least, I think so. She must have joined Orion’s ranks after the accident. I can’t remember if I was the one who had to be operated or her, but all I know is that she joined Orion either because I needed major and expansive surgeries or because she was saved with their funds and had to work for them as payment. I’ve been searching for her, but in the end, Orion got to me too, manipulated me and turned my own dysphoria against me.”

“Dysphoria?”

He could’ve said “trauma” and that’d have been true too, but Hikaru is more than conscious enough of the conversation’s flow and goals to know he shouldn’t dance around the topic like he has for so long.

“I… started to impersonate Mitsuru in public to lessen my discomfort. The thing is, Orion knew about it because they knew about Mitsuru, and I had to confess to being her sibling – her sister, to be exact. They guessed what my deal was before I even knew the term for it, so they managed to use it against me too: they allowed me to be “Mitsuru” if I wanted, if it made me feel better to be referred to as her. I thought being like her would make me as strong as she was in my eyes.”

“What I’m getting from this is that you eventually became the mask, am I wrong?”

“It honestly depended on my mental state. On days I was really dysphoric, I’d become Mitsuru and try to forget about it. It’s Froy who first made me break out of the shell and caused me to truly think about it and realize what I was.”

 Hikaru takes a deep breath, the weight of his words grinding against his ribcage, threatening to seize his lungs.

“I’m born Ichihoshi Hiyoko.”

“…and, until now, only Mitsuru and the Orion Foundation would’ve known that.” Nosaka finishes a sentence he didn’t even know he had started. “Is that right?”

“Y-yes.” Despite coming clean about such a thing, he doesn’t feel any easier. “That’s what Orion has been holding over my head for the past weeks.” He lowers his head, looking to the side. “I’m sorry for keeping that secret from everyone else.”

Silence.

“It’s an understandable decision, really.”

 Hikaru rises his eyes from the ground.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been in your place, but I’m certain the team wouldn’t hold such a thing against you. You must be terrified of potential rejection, yet I’m sure the others would benefit from hearing about it. You’d certainly feel lighter about not having to hide this from everyone else, right?”

“But what if…”

What if what? if they think he’s mistaken? (The question doesn’t exit his mouth).

“You’ll end up getting busted at some point, Ichihoshi, like I managed to do. That message was only the confirmation I needed for all the pieces to fit together. If I can avoid you getting found out before you can say it yourself, I’d rather have you take back your own power over the situation.”

Nosaka puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a smile.

“If anyone disrespects you or decides to go against you for this, I’ll make sure they never do so again.”

The message is clear…

 “Moreover,” Nosaka continues, “telling the team about it would clear out a misunderstanding that’s just been waiting to happen.”

“What’d that misunderstanding be?”

“Back when you were hiding as Ichihoshi Mitsuru, you were changing in a different locker to ours, but ever since revealing your true identity, you’ve rightfully switched to changing in the men’s changing room.” A smile. “I’m pretty sure Umihara and Zaizen would appreciate the clarification.”

Hikaru can feel his face catch on fire. He really didn’t think about it until now…

“A-ah, right, yeah… That’d…”

“It’d be easy to clear up. Better lift the confusion before it can do any damage, don’t you think?”

“Oh, obviously, I’ll… make it as soon as I can.”

 Nosaka takes back his more serious demeanour next, making him think there’s still something he wants to talk about – is it about Mitsuru? Is it about his alignment in the conflict? If he may betray Inazuma Japan if it means saving his sister? Come to think of it, he doesn’t know what he’d do if her life was in danger – his, he doesn’t really care, but hers? It’s a whole other story. He sacrificed even his own integrity for her sake, but now, he doesn’t feel like he could ever go against his team either, and… and…

“Do you feel ready to do it yet?”

 The slow, concerned tone of Nosaka’s voice snaps him back to reality, realizing there’s only worry in his (secondary) captain’s eyes.

“I understand having your secret revealed is something to fear – I’ve been there already, believe me.”

“Honestly? I’ll never be ready. I’ve dreamt for so long of not having to disclose this part of myself, of being able to close the wound by telling Mitsuru about it to close the page… that I don’t think I can ever be ready to go back on that and tear the band-aid away again.” He stops to regain his breath. “But you’re right. The longer I let doubt install itself, the worse it’ll get. And, if it means finally being able not to hide anything… then I’ll do it. I’ll tell everyone myself before anyone else gets the chance to.”

“Good thinking there, Ichihoshi. Just think it over, okay?”

 Hikaru nods along.

“Now, I believe we should be heading to where the others are. They’re most likely wondering where we’ve been.”

“Oh, sure thing!”