#i just really enjoy the full circle nature of their friendship :]

[poptartmochi]

the wrestlemania of the mind wages on.. ghost grinder + honeybee having a hell in a cell match in the arena that is the 👯‍♀️ playlist

[hypnoneghoul]

Say It One More Time

WC: 10k

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: Love Story, Friends To Lovers, Mutual Pining, Falling In Love, Soulmates, First Kiss, Miscommunication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mating, Insecurities, Suggestive, Fluff, Cuddles, Anxiety, Self-Esteem Issues, Referenced Panic Attacks, Retirement, Fear Of The Future, Jamming Sessions, Nightmares, Literal Sleeping Together, Cuddle Piles, Pack Dynamics, Building A Home, Cooking/Baking Date, Domestic Fluff (old married couple coded), Growing Old Together

The story of Swiss and Mountain. From the beginning to the end. (But not really.)

Notes: Commissioned by the amazing @jimothybarnes! Thank you for letting me basically ramble about my faves fgfhdsgf

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Mountain joined the Ghost project in…trying times. So much chaos all around, there was not a moment of peace and the earth ghoul despised it. He thought he would be begging to get sent back to the Pit after one tour leg.

He did not.

Still, he never thought life like this was for him. He always doubted he would ever be really happy. Dewdrop’s elemental transition changed things; first it took away all hope, but then returned it double as he survived it and made full recovery—at least a physical one. That is when Mountain started seeing the human world a little differently.

He started wanting to have a life there, to settle, and that alone guaranteed him success already. Once his mind was set it did not take long for him to see it all changing in front of his eyes.

Or rather appearing in front of his eyes.

In the shape of a rather good looking multi ghoul.

Mountain has to admit he has found Swiss very attractive since the moment he stepped out from the summoning circle; even though he was slightly underweight and generally neglected when he did. The more time he is spending Topside, the more handsome he gets and, frankly, it is slowly getting out of hand, if you ask Mountain.

He is simply ridiculously gorgeous.

Over half a year since Swiss crawled out of the Pit Mountain has to admit that the amount of time he spends just…looking at him may be slightly concerning. So many times Dewdrop or Aether, who know him the best, had jabbed their elbows into his side teasingly and called him a creep. They never once told Mountain, though, how happy they are to see him thriving and blooming just like his element as he and Swiss get closer.

They are growing a friendship—a meaningful, deep connection.

Despite Swiss’ chaos contrasting Mountain’s calmness they found a common language in music and nature and soon enough it turned out the multi ghoul’s loudness is not all that he is, and the rest is easy to balance.

He and Mountain love working in the greenhouse or in the gardens together just as much as they enjoy jamming out in the rehearsal room with wide grins on both their faces. Swiss could not be happier, whatever it is they do together. Nobody has ever tried to get to know him, to overlook the complete mess that he seems to be at a first glance.

Mountain does and the multi ghoul doubts he is aware how important it is to him. Today the multi ghoul got an idea on how to show him. Or at least try to.

He pops his head into the greenhouse after lunch, knocking so as not to startle the earth ghoul; not so much asking for permission to come in.

“Hi, are–uhm, you busy?” he asks, getting startled himself instead, at the sight of Mountain shirtless. He turns and a small knowing smirk grows on face.

“No, not at all, just finished my work.” Mountain says and stretches. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to go for a walk and…” Swiss has some trouble remembering what he initially came there for as he struggles to rip his eyes away from the slight sheen of sweat on the earth ghoul’s chest, “uh, I was wondering if you’d go with me? I want to show you something.”

“Yeah, I’d love that! Give me just a minute, I’ll get this to the den and I’ll be right back.” Mountain points at a box filled with…something before picking it up. Swiss only nods and hangs his head to hopefully hide the blush on his face at least a little.

“Alright, I’ll wait here,” he mutters, hoping Mountain hears it as he has already walked out of the greenhouse. Swiss paces around the place waiting for the earth ghoul to return and takes a moment to appreciate all the work he does there. He is also happy to notice the plants he himself tended to and how they are flourishing. He smiles with pride.

Swiss is not used to anything thriving after it has been touched by him; that’s Mountain’s skill. His heart warms at the thought that the earth ghoul made him thrive just as he did the flora under his care and changed him; made it so he can bring good into the world, too. That is the greatest gift the earth ghoul could have ever given Swiss.

Soon enough he comes back and they set out into the woods.

“You probably know about it, it’s not like it’s super hidden,” Swiss says, “but I never heard anyone mention it and I just came across it one time and…I dunno, I just like it and wanted to take you there.”

Mountain nods with a smile; intrigued and charmed by the fact that Swiss has possibly found a place no one else knows about and he deemed the earth ghoul special enough to share said spot with him. 

They walk for some time—sometimes in silence, sometimes chatting away about various things—before Swiss stops. If not for Mountain's connection to the element they are currently surrounded in, he would be confused; there is nothing there at a first glance, but he can feel there is something.

Swiss takes one more step towards something that looks like a fallen tree resting against a hill and peels some of its branches away to reveal an entrance.

It’s a cave.

Mountain follows the other and they crawl through the tight space and into it. It’s huge and beautiful and the earth ghoul is enamored.

“Swiss, this is–woah, it’s gorgeous here,” he gasps and he is not overreacting. The cave really is something magical.

“So you didn’t know about it?” Swiss asks, slightly surprised. An earth ghoul not knowing every single inch of the local grounds?

“No,” he chuckles. “I heard from Ivy there were some caves around but I never went looking.”

Swiss does not answer, he only grins; proud of himself. He lets Mountain look around for as long as he wants to—the multi ghoul is already familiar with every single nook of the cave.

“There’s a raspberry bush over there,” Swiss says after a few moments, pointing at the other side of the cave where some light is coming from its top. “They’re really good.”

“Let’s see it,” the earth ghoul winks and follows Swiss to them. Before they get to the berries, Mountain crouches by the bush and places his hands where it pierces the ground. He closes his eyes and murmurs something under his breath. Swiss knows what he is doing; thanking the earth for such a gift.

It may just be Swiss’ imagination but the bush seems to brighten when Mountain stands back up.

“You have to teach me that sometime,” he says and the earth ghoul nods before picking up a raspberry and popping it into his mouth. He moans at the taste; they are good.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” He smiles at Swiss. “I really appreciate you.”

The multi ghoul returns the smile with a rosy blush dusting his cheek.

One evening seemingly changes everything. In reality, it changes nothing.

Another tour leg, another city, another show, another venue, another bar to let off some steam. Everyone has a drink or two in their hands, holding onto their human disguises and having fun in pairs or small groups. The music is loud, the lights are bright and it absolutely reeks of sweat, but it doesn’t bother anyone too much.

It’s the charm of such places, really.

Even Mountain is fine with all that; even though he’s not a huge fan, he’s content sitting in a dark corner with a mocktail and watching his packmates.

He sighs. Who is he even trying to lie to? Himself? Lucifer?

He’s watching Swiss.

Beautiful Swiss, laughing and smiling so brightly Mountain thinks he missed his destination; he should have been an angel, not a demon. The earth ghoul zones out staring at him as he laughs amongst their pack, as he dances and sings and Mountain can not help but think Swiss is the most perfect thing in the world, and…

Oh.

Oh.

He’s in love with him

Fuck.

Mountain can’t look at him the same after that realization. He ran away from the bar and avoided everyone for as long as possible—a whole ten hours—not knowing what to do with himself. Now that he knows what that feeling warming up his heart every time Swiss smiles at him is, the earth ghoul only knows need.

He needs him so bad.

He needs to hold him, to kiss him, to be held by him, to be kissed by him. He needs to be devoured and to devour and it feels like the longer none of that happens, the more breath he loses, and it does not take long for Mountain to feel as if he is suffocating.

Little does Mountain know, that he is actually a fucking idiot.

Swiss feels the exact same way; burning for him.

He’s not even discreet about it—he’s painfully obvious, actually—but Mountain is so focused on the doomsday scenario of getting rejected that he’s blind to the signs Swiss is throwing his way. Right under his feet.

It’s another few months before any of them do something more direct than stare yearningly at the other, and it’s not even either of them's idea. It’s their pack that all but pushes them into a tight broom closet and threatens not to let them out until they kiss. Or fuck.

Metaphorically, of course.

What they actually do is a whole scheme of talking them into it. They play a little dirty, they have to admit; showing one of them the messages that were never supposed to see the light of day from the other one, and the other way around.

They just have to make them believe it isn’t one big joke; neither Swiss nor Mountain have enough faith in themselves to accept that someone they see as absolute perfection could even consider…loving them. Oh, how wrong they both are.

Favorite method of Aether’s became getting Swiss high and filling his head with the images of a beautiful future he and Mountain can share if he only stops being such a cunt. He does not even need his quintessence for that.

“Mount’s a romantic, you know?” Aether sighs—slurring a little on purpose, so he seems more high than he actually is after only taking a few hits and feeding the rest to Swiss. “He loves spoiling people he loves and he gets all into it.”

“Mhm,” Swiss hums, sprawled out like a starfish on the quintessence ghoul’s bed. “He’s real sweet.”

“Yeah, he really is,” Aether confirms. “He likes giving gifts. He makes a lot of stuff and then gives it to people. It’s one of the ways he shows affection.”

“I got a few things from him,” the multi ghoul notes. “He grew a flower for me.”

Aether wants to scream at how stupid they both are.

“That’s cute,” he says instead. “What kinda flower?”

“A rose, orange and red.”

Aether face-palms himself. “That’s really lovely.”

“Yeah…” Swiss sighs dreamily. “I’m not so good at…being sweet.”

“Bullshit. You just do it in a different way.”

“Meh.”

“You help everyone,” Aether explains, trying to direct the conversation onto the multitude of times Swiss helped with or did something for Mountain. He also might pull up an article on love languages on his phone and force Swiss to read it, but that’s plan B. “I think that’s how you show affection.

“Huh…I guess it is.”

One evening it all comes to a climax. Swiss is returning from chores with Cirrus and the air ghoulette is laughing at how heart-eyes he gets the moment she so much as mentions Mountain.

When they get to the den they notice said earth ghoul resting in the common room on his own. Swiss tries to turn on his heel and run away—not in a state he would wish Mountain to see him—but Cirrus is done with them jumping around each other.

“Oh, no, you don’t, loverboy!”

She pushes Swiss into the room and Mountain notices him right away. Well, if he can’t run away, maybe he should just…go for it, like the air ghoulette advised him to.

Mountain is looking at him questioningly as he just stands there, contemplating, and he decides he can not make it worse. At least he hopes so.

Swiss walks up to the earth ghoul and plops down onto the couch next to him.

“Hey, can I ask you–” he starts, but Mountain speaks at the same time.

“Hi, I was actually–” 

“Oh, you first, but–”

“So I wanted to–”

“I was wondering if–”

They both pause this silly exchange—blushing bright red—and take deep breaths before speaking again.

“I want to kiss you so bad,” Swiss blurts out, tired of the thoughts that could not be let out jumping around in his head.

“Yeah…” Mountain sighs and giggles to himself before cupping the multi ghoul’s cheek and bending down to kiss him, indeed. Swiss melts into it and nothing else but the two of them exists anymore in this chaotic world.

If their pack that is looking out of the windows cheers as they watch, Swiss and Mountain will never know.

Ghoulish nature is a curious thing.

There are many strange things about it—at least to humans—but it’s understandable considering they are quite literally demons from the pits of Hell. One thing that humans are always particularly amazed by is mating.

It’s not as common as it is sometimes believed. It’s unlike human marriage; that is something frail and all but an act—it does not influence one’s very core.

Mating does.

The spirits of ghouls that mate split and twist together and bind them with a bond unbreakable.

That is why some deem it too dangerous.

Swiss and Mountain, even if they are not aware of it, have both dreamed of committing such an act.

Swiss, who despite his confidence always feels out of place, wanting to experience the comfort of being someone’s, of belonging. Being owned, even.

Mountain, who despite his metaphorical wealth always feels like he’s lacking something, wanting to have someone to be there for him, to choose him.

For years they have both been scared of bringing it up, fearing the other would laugh in their face or push them away.

At the end of the day, neither of them bring it up, really.

“You stink!” Dewdrop announces one day as he storms into the common room where Swiss and Mountain are lounging comfortably on a sofa. “You’ve both been stinking up the place for days now and we all decided to keep our mouths shut because you’re cute, but I’m done with it! You know you should keep away for a while after mating! Besides, how are you just laying here and not fucking twenty-four seven!?”

The pair looks at the agitated ghoul with confusion.

“What the hell are you on?” Swiss snorts.

“We aren’t mated,” Mountain adds.

Dewdrop’s jaw drops as he realizes they really are clueless.

“Except you are, idiots!” the fire ghoul yells. “Last friday, did you fuck?”

“Dew, that’s–”

“DID YOU FUCK!?”

“Fucking Lucifer, yes, we did,” Swiss laughs. “So what?”

“Oh, let’s see! Whoever was topping, did you happen to knot and bite the other one?”

“Well…yes, but we’ve done that so many times before, and–” Mountain mutters, now calculating in his mind.

“SURPRISE, you’re mated! I don���t fucking know how you managed to do it by accident, but you did, so I wish you a happy mated life and now get the fuck out to the woods, I have to air the den out.”

Mountain is the first to stand up—or rather shoot up—but he does not wait for Swiss. No, he runs out of the common room, leaving the remaining two ghouls confused.

The multi ghoul swallows the growing lump in his throat as he follows, albeit way slower. As he leaves he can hear Dewdrop swearing under his breath as he slams the windows open. Swiss is about to cry. Did Mountain…he claimed him by accident and ran away when he was made aware. Does he regret it, does he not want him? Does he not love him?

The multi ghoul wraps his own arms around himself as he leaves the Abbey. He does not know where Mountain went to, but he is sure it’s not to the cave in the woods. Swiss hopes so, at least, wanting to have that space for himself.

Indeed, he does not find his mate there, but it does not make anything better. Swiss crumples to the floor with his claws digging into his sides as he sobs.

He thought he finally found home. He thought that after hundreds of years of loneliness and abuse he found love, but now…it seems it was all a lie. He spends the night curled up in one of the nooks of the cave; with stone digging into his cold body.

Mountain does not sleep.

He ran and ran until he ran out of breath and collapsed somewhere by the other edge of the forest. He cried, realizing how many mistakes he has managed to make.

He knows Swiss, knows his insecurities. He knows what the multi ghoul is now surely thinking.

That he hates him.

The truth is that Mountain panicked once it hit him that Dewdrop was right. Some instinct must have overtaken that last friday and the earth ghoul claimed Swiss without realizing. He did not run away because he regrets it, he–well, he does regret it, but only because he did it without Swiss’ consent.

They have never even talked about it and he just did it to him; Mountain feels like a monster. What if it’s something Swiss never ever wanted to do?

It doesn’t matter now; if he wanted it before, now he certainly wants nothing to do with the earth ghoul. Not only did he violate him, but he ran away like a coward after.

He has fucked up beyond measure.

It’s a few days before either Swiss or Mountain emerge from their hiding spots; though still not knowing what next step to take. They are both clueless that they’re getting closer and closer as they’re trying to return home; only realizing once they bump into each other.

“Fuck, sorry, ‘m sorry,” Swiss mutters and immediately turns on his heel to walk away.

“Please, don’t go,” Mountain begs, voice cracking. The multi ghoul snaps his head back with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why?”

“I’m an idiot, I–I panicked,” the earth ghoul whines, “I didn’t know what to do so I ran, I’m so sorry, my darling.”

“Why?” Swiss repeats.

“You never agreed to it.”

Swiss’ eyes widen.

“That’s…that’s it? You felt bad for claiming me because I didn’t say you could do it?”

“Yes, darling,” Mountain breathes out. “I know what you must’ve been thinking and I’m so, so sorry for making you think any of this was on you. I love you so much, Swiss. I always have and always will.”

The multi ghoul stares at the ground, swallowing thickly. Mountain is all but shaking with anxiety; not knowing whether he is about to be rejected for good or not.

It all dissipates when Swiss throws himself at Mountain, jumping up into his arms. The earth ghoul grabs him as he stumbles backwards and clings to him for dear life as their lips meet.

“I love you, too,” Swiss cries into his mouth. “I’ve always wanted to be yours.”

“Fuck, Swiss, can we–uh, can we pretend it isn’t done yet?” Mountain mutters. “I want to do it properly. Will you let me?”

“Yes, my love. Let’s do it properly.”

It is a few more days before they actually leave the woods.

Swiss always complains when he and Mountain have to work not only separately, but also in the opposite sides of the Abbey. It’s cruel and, frankly, homophobic—as Aeon likes to joke, having picked the phrase up from Tik-Tok.

The multi ghoul would much rather work with Mountain, or not work at all, and he tried to use an argument that he’ll be much more productive with his mate by his side, but one time was enough for Sister Imperator to know it would make them both way less productive. Swiss will not agree, of course—at least not out loud—but he realizes that defiling something they were about to clean was not a great way to prove they could work together on a daily basis.

Anyway, knowing his mate is close enough keeps him as calm as he can be without being in his arms. Swiss can never wait for the work to be finished so he can fall right back into Mountain’s hold, of course, but at least he can survive the hours leading to it.

M: hi my heart, i finished my chores early so ill be in the practice room if you need me, see you soon <3

Swiss grumbles reading the text from his mate. How on earth does Mountain always manage to finish all his work hours before the others? It’s truly unfair, he thinks. It is definitely not caused by Mountain actually doing what he is supposed to instead of getting distracted with a multitude of other things as Swiss happens to.

S: alright, ill catch u when im done, love u

Groaning at having to be away from Mountain for another hour, at least, he gets back to work. Thankfully he’s been left alone in the room without many distractions. Still, an hour is way too long, so when Swiss shoots his next text, half an hour later, he may or may not have forgotten about some of the tasks yet to be done.

S: i’m done, my love, still practicing?

Lack of an answer is an answer enough for Swiss, so he bolts in the practice room’s general direction before someone can notice him ditching chores. He catches Mountain’s scent just before he gets to the sound-proofed door and takes a deep breath, inhaling the smell of fresh grass, blooming flowers and pine. He can not hold back the smile that grows on his face as he enters the room.

Mountain is—as usual—fully immersed in music, smiling to himself and moving his entire body to the rhythm as he plays. Swiss closes the door behind him and hangs by it, watching his mate all heart-eyed for the next few minutes. Only when the earth ghoul finishes up another song and pauses to check his phone does he look up and notice Swiss.

He chuckles, “How long have you been standing there?”

“A little bit.” The multi ghoul shrugs and makes his way over to the drum platform. “I like watching you play.”

“Creep,” Mountain teases before closing the remaining distance between him and his mate and wrapping his arms around him, sweat and all.  “Missed you.”

Swiss is immediately purring up a storm, nuzzling under Mountain’s cheek and breathing in the scent he loves so much. “Mhm, I missed you, too, my love.”

“Let’s get something to eat,” the earth ghoul proposes, “and then we can take a nap.”

“Okay, but…” Swiss sighs, “in a moment. Wanna stay like that just a minute more.”

“Of course, my heart.” Mountain smiles against his hair. “However long you need.”

Ideally, Swiss would never pull away. He would stay glued to his mate for eternity if he could. Alas, just standing there is neither comfortable nor really fun, so eventually he does. He grabs the earth ghoul’s hand instead and they go back to the den, talking about their day. Soon enough they reach the commons and head for the kitchen first.

“What do you want to eat, my love?” Swiss asks, already rummaging through some cabinets. Mountain hums as he trails a hand over the multi ghoul’s hip before he wraps his arms around his waist and glues himself to his back.

“You,” he rumbles, pressing a kiss under Swiss’ ear.

“Maybe later,” he laughs and turns in the other’s arms. “You can get a taste, though.”

Mountain would never deny, of course; he grabs Swiss’ chin and tips his head back gently to lick into his mouth with near reverence. The multi ghoul sighs into it, sagging in Mountain’s arms. He hooks his hands under Swiss’ thighs and picks him up to sit him on the counter before stepping in between his legs to get that much closer and kiss the breath out of his mate.

“So sweet,” he breathes between kisses, “could just–eat you up.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Swiss giggles, “but maybe some actual food first, hm?”

“Fine…” Mountain rolls his eyes as he pulls away, making his mate grin widely. The earth ghoul turns to the fridge and grabs a yogurt. “Want some, too?”

“Yeah, gimme.” He scoffs at Swiss’ grabby hands and pulls out another one before shutting the fridge. The multi ghoul is already waiting with two spoons.

They chat some more as they snack, spreading some Abbey gossip as two ghouls do. Soon enough the empty yogurt packets end up in the thrash and they move to the living room.

Mountain sits in a big armchair in the corner of the common room, sprawling himself out in the deep plush to get comfortable. Swiss plops himself in his mate’s lap once he gets the go-ahead and curls up against his chest, rubbing his nose up and down Mountain’s neck. 

“I love you,” He mutters. The earth ghoul kicks up a low, rumbly purr and wraps his arms around Swiss, holding him close.

“I love you, too.” Swiss starts his own purring and it is easy to fall asleep enveloped in the comfort of having each other so close.

Mountain has learned how to fight his anxiety relatively well long ago. It’s not something that can just be cured or gotten rid of, of course, but he manages it as well as one can.

But if you can’t get rid of something permanently, it will resurface every now and then.

The earth ghoul has always struggled with low self-esteem. He used to lack any confidence, always preferring to hide behind his drum kit.

It changed a lot over the years.

Mountain’s pack and Swiss helped him a great deal; proving every single day how kind, smart, beautiful, and most importantly loved he is. It took him years, but he finally believes it all and now he knows his worth.

But doubts creep back into his brain, sometimes.

That he’s not good enough, that he’s worthless, that he’s useless, that he’s a burden, that he’s unlovable. All lies, of course, but it’s hard to ignore a nagging voice inside one’s head repeating it all over and over again.

Whenever it does speak up, Mountain goes to Swiss.

Today has just been…rough for the earth ghoul and he finds himself in a not-so-good headspace around dinnertime. He had seen Swiss barely half an hour ago but he feels like spiraling and he knows he should not wait until he’s down there.

But on the other hand…Swiss is probably busy now, he can’t just go and bother him and–

No. Swiss loves him, he won’t–

Mountain squeezes his eyes as if it can get him rid of these awful thoughts and goes to find his mate before they change his mind and force him to hide.

It’s happened before, many times. There were times when he would panic so hard he would run to the woods, blend in with his element and not emerge for days—convinced nobody had even noticed he was gone.

They always did and they always looked for him.

He gets to the den, unsure if Swiss is there at first, but he catches his scent quickly. It leads him to their shared bedroom and Mountain tries to compose himself a little bit before knocking on the door and entering. Swiss is doing something by the closet—probably taking care of the freshly washed clothes.

“Hi, my love,” the multi ghoul grins as he sees him. He is always an image of pure joy when he sees him.

“Hey,” Mountain responds quietly, dragging his feet as he comes closer.

“What’s wrong?” Swiss asks, having immediately picked up on the sadness in his voice, the sour edge in his scent, and the slump of his shoulders.

“Nothing, can I just…” Mountain sighs and drags a hand down his face as his voice cracks, “can I get a hug?”

“Oh, baby,” the multi ghoul coos with a sad pout on his face, already coming towards him with open arms—all but running to comfort him, “of course you can, come here.”

Mountain melts the moment these strong and warm arms wrap around him. He sags in Swiss’ hold and hides his face in his neck. He can not hold back a dry little sob that breaks its way free at the newfound comfort.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Swiss mutters, “I’ve always got you.”

It doesn’t take long for the comfort of Swiss’ embrace to make Mountain’s tears fall. He lets out a choked sob and hides further in his mate’s neck.

They stand like that for a while; just being. The multi ghoul holds his mate close and sways them side to side a little, letting him cry out whatever it is that has been bothering him. He does not need to know, not if he can help without that knowledge.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he repeats, rubbing his back. “You’re alright.”

Moments like these always make Swiss think about how he has seen Mountain when they first met. A huge ghoul with a stoic presence and yet a kind smile.

He thought his name was fitting not only because of his height. He thought the earth ghoul was unshakable, unmovable.

Swiss was pleased to find out Mountain is all but the definition of a gentle giant.

“Do you want to move to the nest?” Swiss asks once he deems his mate calm enough to move. He nods into his neck and the multi ghoul kisses his hair before gently maneuvering them over to their nest without untangling their limbs. It is not very easy and they end up having to pull away at least for a second.

“Sorry, I’m–I’m a mess,” the earth ghoul mutters, wiping tears and snot from his face as Swiss gets comfortable against the headboard. He opens his arms again once he is settled. Mountain falls right back into his embrace.

“You’re my mess, baby,” Swiss chuckles and kisses his forehead before poking his nose with a finger, making him giggle wetly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Mountain cuddles up to Swiss’ side with his head over his heart and their hands clasped together. Their tails wrap around each other, too; Swiss’ tapping lightly against the mattress as he purrs. It relaxes the earth ghoul and he can feel the tension leaving him as he gets heavier against him.

Mountain is half asleep when Swiss speaks again. He does that on purpose; knowing that as sleepy as he is, the earth ghoul will not argue.

“You’re the smartest, kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Swiss tells him. Mountain can only listen and breathe softly into his neck. “You give my life meaning, I love you so much it hurts sometimes and I need you, my love. I’m a part of you and the best part of me is you, Mountain. I don’t know what your brain was telling you earlier, but whatever it is, you know it’s not true and I’ll spend years proving it to you, okay? Do you understand me, sweetheart?”

It may not be so easy to believe all that Swiss is saying right away, but the one thing Mountain will never dare doubt is the multi ghoul’s devotion to making him believe.

He nods weakly in agreement just before he falls asleep in his arms.

Swiss always feared that retirement was going to bore him to death.

What would he do with his time? Stuck in the Abbey all year long with no opportunities to travel and have fun, really? How would he—a creature that lived on the adrenaline that playing shows all over the world provided—survive not touring? Sure, he would have his mate and his pack and they could play together in the rehearsal room as much as they wanted, but it would not be the same without both exhaustion and excitement of the real thing.

The multi ghoul could not see a point in living like this and he was scared.

He did not think he would be able to return to his old life after getting a taste of something bigger. He has spent countless nights worrying and coaxing himself into pointless panic attacks.

Now that the time to leave the Ghost project behind has come, Swiss realizes it may not be so bad.

Sure, it has only been a few months—no more than some breaks they had between touring—and he already feels a hole in his heart that is never fully going to get filled. But it is not so bad.

He thinks he has Mountain to thank for that.

When touring was the only thing for him, he used to think life would lose all meaning without it, but now it is Mountain that is Swiss’ life. He’s not scared anymore because he has his mate.

His life is full even though a big chunk of it was ripped away.

It’s slower now. They can sleep in every single day if they wish. They can go for week-long walks into the woods. They can do anything they want, really.

The only thing that matters is that Swiss and Mountain are together.

Mountain does not really miss touring—having had more than enough of it—but he doesn’t consider it all bad memories. Quite the opposite; all these years going around the world with his pack are the best of his long life. He misses the good moments, both on and off stage.

That is why he never declines when the pack asks him to join them in jamming out like the old times. It always feels good to climb his platform and sit behind his fancy drum kit again, to overlook the rest of the musicians as they run and jump around the stage.

Just like the old times.

They all still play a lot, but it is usually on their own, in their bedrooms. Each of them also spends a lot of time teaching both their instruments and elements to the new generation of ghouls summoned to continue the Ghost project.

Dewdrop—to everyone’s surprise—seems to have found his calling as a teacher; he loves it, and both he and his pupils are doing exceptionally well.

Aether and Aeon are switching between teaching the new quintessence ghoul guitar and quintessence, introducing them to the infirmary already.

Rain and the new water ghoul spend as much time in the lake as over their basses, just like Mountain with his pupil in the greenhouse and behind their drums.

The ghoulettes are—as always—rather secretive about their doings, but the old one’s voices can often be heard overlapping with the new trio’s.

Even Swiss has a pupil—a multi ghoul as chaotic and joyful as he is; perfect fit for replacing him.

But sometimes their pack meets in the rehearsal room purely for their own enjoyment.

Mountain turns to the right and relies solely on his muscle memory as he watches his mate on his platform—dancing and singing and laughing and playing. It hurts him sometimes, the fact that even if he does not, Swiss clearly misses it. Mountain would let him tour for decades if he only could, even if he would not go with him. He wishes he could give that to him.

Swiss looks at it differently now.

Yes, he misses touring terribly, but he does not regret being forced to retire. His life Topside until now was full of…everything, really, and now it’s time to tone it down, to go slower.

The rest of his life is for Mountain and he could not be happier about that.

They all get lost in the music again. All of them, Dewdrop, Rain, Aeon, Aether, Cirrus, Cumulus, Aurora, Sunshine, Swiss, and Mountain.

The ghoulettes are all dancing on two platforms, holding hands as they fill the room with the beautiful sound of their combined voices. Dewdrop keeps chucking picks at Aether. Aeon leans against Rain, nuzzling up to him like a car.

Swiss seems alone, but it could not be further from the truth. In that moment he feels less alone than ever.

Mountain can only smile and thank Lucifer for sending all these amazing ghouls his way when life was rough.

For sending Swiss his way when life was rough.

Their fun ends too soon, with the entire pack exhausted, but content. They slowly filter out of the room, thanking each other for the amazing time they had.

“Did you have fun, my love?” Swiss asks, coming up the platform behind his mate.

“I did,” Mountain sighs as the multi ghoul drapes himself over his back, not minding the sweat dripping off of him. “Did you?”

“You know it, baby,” he laughs. Mountain hums before turning on his stool and sweeps Swiss off of his feet. He yelps as he ends up in his mate’s lap with his arms around his neck. They both laugh like they are the happiest people in the entire universe.

They are the happiest people in the entire universe.

Mountain leans in to rest his forehead against Swiss’, knocking their horns together. They close their eyes and breathe the same air for a moment.

Despite all the little things they miss, their life could not be more perfect.

Swiss does not think his nightmares will ever go away. They have become less frequent over the years since he has been summoned, but once in a while—when he least expects it—something will hit him again. The less often they happen, the more frightening they are, though, and sometimes it takes the multi ghoul as much as a week to recover.

He wakes up gasping and sweating bullets for the first time in a few months and his first instinct is to blindly pat around for Mountain. He finds him, of course, and lets out a shaky breath of relief as he grabs his limp hand, but the dream still leaves him unsettled. The earth ghoul shifts in his sleep after being smacked a few times, but does not wake up.

Swiss was all alone again. Alone and cold in the Pit, but not like it was before he got summoned. He was alone then, yes, but he was also clueless. This time he was left with memories, knowing he had a pack and a happy life that suddenly was gone. Lacking and missing something is so much worse when you know exactly what you have lost. He felt like he was never going to experience the warmth of being loved again and it was horrible.

But he is awake now. He is awake and Mountain is right there.

Swiss stares at his mate; watching his chest rise and fall rhythmically and his nose twitch. It’s completely dark in their room, but his water part allows him to see well anyway. Mountain looks so peaceful and the multi ghoul’s heart feels like it is about to burst with the amount of love he has for him in it.

At some point the earth ghoul turns onto his side and unconsciously reaches out for Swiss, flopping an arm over his lap. He chuckles wetly and lays back down to snuggle into Mountain’s chest, his face slotted right over his heart. The tears that have been lingering in his eyes fall when his mate’s warmth envelopes him; falling in cold drops onto Mountain’s skin. This and Swiss’ heart pounding against him wakes him up.

“S’iss…’r you okay?” he slurs, all syrupy with sleep as he nuzzles into his hair.

“Yeah, baby. You’re here, I’m okay.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” Swiss sighs, cuddling up even closer. Mountain wraps his own arms tighter around him.

“I’m here,” he assures. The multi ghoul nods and tries to focus on his mate’s heartbeat and go back to sleep, but he can not quite shake off the fear that the dream has filled him with. 

What if it is his future? What if he will be sent back before others? What if they will be sent back together but won’t manage to find each other? What if it will all be different and everyone gets sent back but him? Being alone Topside would be as bad as being alone in the Pit.

The worst part of his dreams is always that they are not completely unrealistic.

He sits up again, thinking Mountain has managed to fall back asleep and intending to just stare at him for the rest of the night and assure his brain all is fine. The earth ghoul did not, though, and he rises with Swiss.

“Wanna talk about it or just…be?” he asks as he intertwines their fingers.

“I don’t know, I just–didn’t have that one in a while and it got me all messed up.”

“I understand, my heart.” Mountain kisses his forehead and adjusts them, all but manhandling Swiss so he is in his lap, curled up smaller than it should be possible considering his actual size. “It’s okay, I’m here. Everything’s okay.”

He is, but…their family is bigger than the two of them.

“Do you, uh–do you think we could go check on the others?” 

“Yeah,” the earth ghoul mutters, “yeah, of course.”

Swiss nods with gratitude and crawls out of their nest. He grips Mountain’s hand tightly as they leave their room and go down the corridor, intending to check their packmates’ bedrooms one by one. Mountain pauses before they can open Rain’s door, though, and his ear flicks.

“What is it?”

“Let’s go to the common room,” the earth ghoul says without actual explanation, but Swiss trusts him. He trusts him more than he trusts himself, so they do indeed go to the common room. Swiss looks with an anxious stare at each door they pass without checking, but Mountain just drags him along; albeit gently.

When they reach the commons Swiss understands.

Their whole pack is there, cuddled up in one big pile on the floor lined with tons of bedding. They are all snoring away, tangled in a way that makes it impossible to really notice where one ghoul ends and the other begins. Dewdrop is curled in a little ball on Aether’s chest; his face shoved between the other’s pecs. Rain is on his side, snuggled up to the two with his tail wrapped around the fire ghoul’s leg. Aeon is spooning Rain and drooling into his hair. Aurora is laying perpendicularly to him; her legs are thrown over the quintessence ghoul’s middle. Her head is resting on Cumulus’ stomach while Cirrus’ head is in the crook of her neck. Sunshine is sprawled half on top of them two.

The multi ghoul smiles and kisses Mountain in a way that expresses more than words ever could. He understands.

“Do you want to join them or get back to our room?” The earth ghoul asks.

“Here…” Swiss mutters, “but you don’t have to, your back will–”

“I’ll stay. I’ll always stay.”

Swiss doesn’t have it in himself to disagree; he nods and finds a spot where he and Mountain can lay down with the others. They slot in perfectly right next to Aether and the moment they get comfortable someone’s—most likely Dewdrop’s—tail drapes itself over them.

“You will never be alone again, my heart,” the earth ghoul whispers, kissing Swiss right below his ear. “No matter what happens, we will always be together.”

A couple of years into their retirement, Mountain and Swiss start to fantasize about having a space that would really be their own. Moving out of the Abbey isn’t an option. Not because of the Clergy’s control or some binding magic. Well, not unless the bond between a pack is considered magic, but truth be told it’s as close as it gets.

They simply don’t want to leave their family.

They would hate being unable to see them at least every other day, being unable to have cuddle piles; they would miss them terribly, even if they would not travel far. They are older now, though—especially Mountain—and the chaos is sometimes too much. That is why they started thinking of their options.

The Ministry’s grounds are big.

Swiss and Mountain share not only the element of earth in their cores, but also deep love for it, and when they are offered by the Clergy—or rather Copia himself, always the one to spoil his ghouls—to be provided with supplies to build a house in the woods, they accept without a second thought.

They begin planning immediately.

They have to have a little patio to drink tea in the mornings and to lounge with a book or guitar on. They need a big kitchen to cook and bake together as much as their hearts might desire. There must be a speaker system all over so they can have music they so love surrounding them at all times. Their bed has to be big and sturdy for…obvious reasons.

Thankfully both Mountain and Swiss are good at drawing.

They spend hours online, looking for inspiration and appliances they are going to need. They plan and draw everything, spilling their shared dreams onto paper.

Once it is all done, they insist they can do it all by themselves, but Copia does not agree. Not because he does not trust them, but because he loves them so much he only wants the best for them—he hires an actual architect and construction team for them.

It does not dull their excitement to bring their drawings to life; only now they are sure their house will last years. And they still do participate in the process, of course, but while the professionals are working on their cabin, Swiss and Mounty focus more on its surroundings.

They must have a garden, too.

They divide the space around the house into three parts and surround it all with magical hedge to keep away animals that might want to steal some of the things they plan on growing. The middle part they leave empty—apart from some flowers just to keep it in their style—to later on equip with chairs, tables, a swing, and anything that they might come up with that would make it a place that one wants to spend time in.

The other two parts are divided into growing fruit, vegetables, and even some grain. Whatever is possible, and considering Mountain’s power it is a lot.

Swiss and Mountain are standing there one evening, holding each other in a place that will soon be their patio, after the construction team has already left. They watch the sunset; sky painted oranges and pinks just behind the house that is steadily growing. It is as if Lucifer is congratulating them on the peaceful life that is just around the corner.

“We should get a cat,” Swiss hums into the space below Mountain’s jaw.

“What?” the other laughs quietly, slightly surprised by the proposition.

“Yeah, like a little kitten. They’re so cute.”

Mountain thinks about it. Yes, they are cute and now that they are about to have their own little home it would be precious to have something—someone—to raise there. They can not have kits Topside, so a pet would be the next best thing.

“Yeah, we should,” he mutters after a moment. Swiss pulls away and looks up at his mate, beaming. “What? Were you joking?”

“No, I just didn’t think you’d agree,” he giggles and stands on his tiptoes to kiss the earth ghoul. “I want a little calico girl.”

“Whatever you want is yours, my heart,” Mountain whispers and brings his mate closer. Swiss purrs at his warmth and he knows the earth ghoul means it; Mountain would bring the stars down from the sky and rip out his own veins to wrap them in if that would be Swiss’ wish.

The building of their house takes just short of a year. The final step is, of course, furnishing and decorating it, and the pair invite their family to help with that. The younger ghouls may not be aware, but in the Pit there is a certain tradition regarding couples that mate and leave the pack to live on their own. The pack or packs that the ghouls come out of build shelter for them to live in as a sign of the claim they still have on them. Not a possessive, objectifying one, but an affectionate one. It is simply extending the whole pack’s protection over the ghoul’s mate and their potential future kits.

That tradition is not cultivated by ghouls that get summoned Topside, and it would be especially senseless considering how unusual Swiss and Mountain’s pack and life is. So they come up with their own version.

Each ghoul of their family has a part of their cabin to decorate as they see fit.

It ends up being a patchwork style that would absolutely horrify any professional designer, but Mountain and Swiss could not be happier with how it all turned out.

Once their house is ready to move into, they walk into the fresh space and stand in the middle of it with proud smiles. They did it and it is not only their house now; it is their home.

“I think we should…initiate it,” Swiss says after a moment of just taking it in.

“As in…baptize?”

“Well, yeah, but I wouldn’t say that’s the right word for what I have in mind.”

“Oh…oh.”

The little kitten held against Swiss’ chest seems to agree as she meows loudly.

One of the things that have become a habit for Swiss and Mountain is their little kitchen dates—Mountain baking while Swiss cooks next to him.

They have them often, now that they have so much time to spare on their hands, and it never gets old or boring.

 They plan their whole day in advance, prepare their recipes and make a list of groceries they need to get. Most of the ingredients Swiss needs to make dinner can be found in their garden, and most of the ingredients Mountain needs to bake dessert can be found in the pantry they have worked years on supplying. For anything else they make a trip to a local grocery store, holding hands and mirroring the smiles older ladies send their way.

A spacious kitchen with a lot of working space was one of the priorities when they were planning their cabin; they needed space to be able to cook side by side comfortably. Besides, the two-in-one living room and kitchen turned out to be the place they spend most of their time, followed closely by their bedroom and the outside.

Both Swiss and Mountain are usually clean about their cooking and baking—that is until one of them starts a food fight. They each have their favored bowls and spoons and dishes and rags. They have a silent agreement about the division of the counter, too, but that one blurs more often than not.

The pair prepare everything; they wash the vegetables and eggs, measure the dry and wet ingredients separately, and pick out all the utensils they’ll need. The last step is putting on their matching aprons they got as a gift. They switch them sometimes, but usually Swiss wears the one saying big spoon, while Mountain’s says little spoon.

They always have music on put through the speakers scattered all over; the type depending on their mood. Sometimes it is quieter, sometimes they turn it into a full blown cooking party with the music loud and their dancing energetic.

Today, though, they are enjoying the peace of it; they are humming to the soft music Swiss put on, swaying their hips as they work. 

“How’s it going for you, my love?” Swiss asks, bumping his hip into Mountain. He looks over his arm into the bowl clutched between his hands and hums, unable to recognize what it is that his mate is working on.

“Alright,” Mountain says. “It’ll need a moment to rise before I bake it.”

“You won’t tell me what it is?” the multi ghoul whines jokingly, poking his mate’s arm with his horns.

“Nope,” he giggles, “you’ll see.”

“Fineee…” Swiss is not one to accept such mortifying defeat without a fight, though. He turns back to his own station and waits for Mountain to let down his guard before he strikes; shoving his fingers into one of the other bowls and pulling back with them covered in some kind of cream.

“Swiss!” Mountain throws his arms up; acting offended even though it’s a regular occurrence. “You menace!”

The multi ghoul only giggles as he skitters away to lick the cream off of his hand out of the other’s reach. It is sweet and kind of fluffy; that is probably what Mountain was beating the eggs for earlier. It’s delicious and Swiss tell his mate as much.

Mountain shakes his head and huffs as he goes right for Swiss’ own cooking and dips a finger in a warming up sauce in Swiss’ favorite green pan.

“Oh, you!” he laughs and walks up to him to wrap his arms around his waist from behind. The earth ghoul can not even pretend he is mad at him when Swiss kicks up a low purr and nuzzles his face against Mountain’s back. He can't help but set everything down and turn around to steal a kiss from his mate, too.

Thankfully nothing on the stove needs urgent attention; they can take their time loving on each other during their little break. They hear a little meow behind them and they pull away to look at someone who loves interrupting.

“Hi yourself,” Swiss laughs, turning to their cat Aira. He reaches out for her and she nuzzles her little fuzzy head into his palm. Mountain shakes his head but he can not deny their little lady is so adorable it is impossible to deny her affection. He comes closer, picks her up, and immediately brings her to his chest.

“Cat thief!” Swiss accuses. Mountain only shrugs; it can not be denied.

Aira is purring loudly all relaxed in the earth ghoul’s arms as he hops onto the clean end of the counter. Swiss mutters something about unfairness under his breath as he returns to his cooking, stirring something and poking a finger in to taste it.

He focuses on and gets lost in it all over again and Mountain watches him intently despite his attention seemingly being focused on the cat. He is not in a rush; his dough has to rest anyway. The earth ghoul is grinning at his mate by the time the alarm he set goes off and he has to put Aira down and get back to work.

In the evening they eat what they made, sitting on the opposite ends of a small table that’s just barely wide enough to fit their plates. They devour the meal so carefully and lovingly prepared by the multi ghoul; Mountain always praises the food and Swiss himself to the heavens. Not long after, Swiss does the same to Mountain and his dessert as he picks every single crumb from his plate and licks the cream off of his fingers.

Providing for each other is one of the love languages they share and love indulging and it fills them with more and more affection every single time; until they feel like they are about to burst with it. That is a part of the reason why every single one of their kitchen dates ends up the same—with them making love in a significantly different way than cooking for each other; kneading something else than pasta or cake dough.

When you have someone you love by your side, time goes by simultaneously slow and fast. It is slow when you look into your beloved’s eyes and get lost in them, when you enjoy every single second spent with them. But at the same time no amount of time feels enough. No matter how many years you have spent with the one you love, it will never be enough—in that way it all moves too fast.

It is different for ghouls; for any being that is considered immortal. Nothing can really come to an end for them and while living forever may feel like a terrible sentence, it does not have to be.

Swiss and Mountain are not afraid of eternity.

For them it is a gift. Not many have the chance of never running out of time. So many humans do and it is something neither Mountain nor Swiss can even imagine experiencing.

The curse of humanity is a horrible one.

They know how lucky they are and even though the ghouls being demons are called the damned ones, it could not be more wrong a description when it comes to Swiss and Mountain.

They are the blessed ones.

They have lived a big, full life already and there is still so much waiting for them.

The bonds of their pack loosen a little over time, mates distancing themselves to focus on each other—it is a natural way of things, even for a pack as unusual as theirs. Most of them stay in the Abbey—they of course spend more time together—but those who don't, hear from each other every few weeks and meet ever less often.

It is a little sad, if you think about it, considering all that they have been through together over the years.

But again, it’s different for ghouls.

They aren’t tied to one lifetime; they have multiple, and they divide them fairly.

Ghouls do not die. When—and if—they or somebody else decides their life Topside must come to an end, they simply turn into ash. Their spirits, something we could call a soul, retire back to the Pits, to the very place they were summoned from. Down there it is as if they never left, but their minds and hearts know otherwise. They are filled with memories and affections of what was and with them they continue their endless existence in Hell. It is not torment, it is not eternal damnation.

Not if they can find the one they linked their soul to.

When the time comes—whether it be tens, hundreds or thousands of years—Swiss and Mountain will find each other again. One single day they will spend apart; not more, not less.

And maybe they will find others, too.

Rain and Dewdrop, who will have left earlier to rid the water ghoul of the pain tied to his mortal vessel. The ghoulettes, all four of them, who will have enjoyed what the human world has to offer for as long as it is enjoyable. Aether and Aeon, not mated, but linked by something as strong; a brotherly bond like no other.

Maybe they will find older ghouls also. Alpha and Omega, Zephyr and Ifrit, Mist and Delta, maybe even Chain himself. Maybe the Emeritus brothers will be there, too, if the old rumors of them being favored in such a way by Lucifer turn out to be true.

For now, it is all a mystery; a riddle that is not to be solved for centuries or millennia. There is only one certainty in all of it.

Swiss and Mountain will always be together.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part seven) 🌹

Part Six🌹

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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The vast hallways of the academy seemed longer today, while time seemed to speed up. With each step taken, more students seemed to file out of the halls. A quick look at the gold watch on their wrist, and their legs seemed to carry them out from under. In full force, the pristine doors of the academy classroom burst open, revealing a panting Sejanus.

His classmates seemed surprised by the sudden entrance, but more surprised by the fact that he was on time—or he thought he was. The boy took a step inside right as the bell rang, and with nothing more than a sigh, Dean Highbottom notified that "on time" meant being in your seat. Sejanus, still attempting to gain even a breath of air in his lungs, accepted defeat.

As he trudged to his seat, his eyes locked with the blonde boy one desk away. Your absence was all-consuming and isolating. Coriolanus noticed that the dark circles underneath Sejanus's eyes had still not left. They had been there the two weeks you've been gone and they don't seem to be going away anytime soon.

Most would assume that his lack of sleep is connected to the lack of your presence, but Coriolanus knew better.

Tomorrow is Reaping Day.

Sejanus has rarely shown his face most years, and if he has, you have always been by his side. But this year, there is a great understanding if he skipped out. However, you were conflicted whether or not to go. You felt the obligation to Sejanus due to the dark day for him, and you knew he had to be there for the Plinth Prize announcement.

And the announcement was your other felt obligation. You wanted to be there for Coriolanus when he won.

How Snow knew all this was in part due to Sejanus. The two have grown unexpectedly close these past two weeks. They bonded over your absence initially, and it eventually grew into a natural friendship.

Sejanus had always considered Snow a friend; truthfully, the only other person in the Capital besides you. But Coriolanus had been wary of the Plinth boy. He knew his distaste for the Capital, which is obviously not good company to associate with. He couldn't risk his reputation, no matter how sweet he was and the rarity of his character.

But something changed. He cared less and began spending more time with Sejanus. He knew he could trust him, and that was probably the quality he appreciated the most.

No wonder you were connected at the hip with the sweet boy.

He told you so after you ranted about the obligations you felt regarding Reaping Day last night.

You both ranted on and on nearly every single night. While you might not be at school, that doesn't mean you don't go out.

If going out means running in the dark streets of the Capital, only to reach the Snow door breathless and red, painting your features that were broken with a blinding and giddy smile.

A smile, that no matter what was discussed or how many tears were shed just prior at the Plinth house, always appeared. Every day, you did school work dropped off by Rhayen until mid-evening. You then spent a few hours calming and listening to Sejanus ranting on the Hunger Games and inhumanity. You agreed with him that they were cruel and brutal. But you kept the parts you disagreed with to yourself.

The parts that told you that they deserved it. That they needed a punishment just as bad as the one you suffered. They may be innocent but weren't you and the rest of the Capital children in the Dark Days?

These haunting thoughts lingered in your mind until you showed up at the cracking yet comforting ancestral Snow home.

Coryo, even as he studied and completed his assignments, always listened to you. He was the one who reassured you that you were not a cruel monster as you began to believe yourself to be but rather an unfortunate victim of war horror.

He was the one you confessed to about your fears of becoming bitter and cold after your mother's death.

You were in his room as he was working on the paper you long finished. The room, even with the constant dust and mold coating the walls and ceilings, had a fresh aroma due to the open window. Coryo knew you liked the smell of the flowers outside that only seemed to be grown on his side of the city. The breeze lightly moved through his curls, golden-kissed from the sun. It continued on through the portion of hair hanging off his bed where you rested.

The confession wasn't meant to be dramatic or any warning sign. In fact, you didn't even realize what you said until the smooth sound of Coryo's pen ceased to be. Your head lifted from the sunken yet rose-scented pillow. The sight before you was a stiffened Coriolanus with an analyzing expression covering his face as he was turned towards you in his chair. His mind seemed as if it was racing hundreds of miles a minute while you stood still in confusion.

You knew he was far too lost in thought to come out by himself. His eyes snapped back to reality as you sat up from your laying position to face him. You tilted your head in question to his actions and his pondering.

"That's not going to happen. Don't even spend time on that thought because it's not happening." His eyes were hardened by determination. You softened at his concern but you couldn't stop the argument slipping from your mouth.

"You can't say that, Coryo. This world doesn't really have the factors for the kind-hearted to survive. It either hardens or stops beating."

That only seemed to agitate Coriolanus into convincing you further. His legs pushed his chair and himself forward in your direction. He was now situated right in front of you, leaning inward slightly into your space which made it hard to look away. What made it impossible was the evening sun pouring through the window and reflected perfectly onto his mesmerizing eyes.

"You are not going to become cold. I promise you, I will take every hit and scar before you have to harden yourself to the world."

His oath was met with nothing but with searching eyes. They search for lies or hesitation but there was not a single speck of doubt in his golden-filtered blue orbs.

Your body leaned forward in response, with gratitude and tears dancing in your eyes as they also began to be lit up by the sunlight flowing through the window.

Your eyes were locked while emotions and unspoken words flowed between the gaze. It became too intense and you turned your head the split second before Coryo began leaning in. You seemed oblivious of his action as you stared out of his window. A favorite past time of yours it seemed when in his room.

His cheeks were flushed with slight embarrassment and the sight before his very eyes. The sun began to lower and while it still lit up the room and your features. It's rays were intensified on the shimmering diamonds of the silver ring around your neck.

He noticed it the very first night you showed up to his door after the night of your father's wrath. You came to apologize for his actions and plead for forgiveness but there was nothing to forgive, something both Coryo and Tigris assured you.

But as you paced back and forth that night, the dim light of the kitchen caught the small, brilliant blue stones. He saw the other two rings after your mother's funeral but that ring was new.

As you came around more, he swore it looked like snowflakes and felt a little smug but was never sure and never pressed you about it.

However, something overtook the teenager as he took the ring that has puzzled him for weeks. The movement caused you to look back at him. The proximity causing you to nearly smash your head into his.

You angled your head to take in his expression as his fingers grazed over the snowflake-shaped diamonds. You were so glad you did as you got to witness the smile spread across his face. If you had to choose what was more valuable to you: the moment or the ring, you would be tearing yourself in half for a decision.

"Snowflakes."

He peaked up at you beneath his blonde curls with his pearly whites.

Oh never have you made a decision between two things so fast.

The blush that spread across your cheeks was impossible to hide as you avoided his gaze. But it's not like you had anything to hide. The reason you wore the necklace was that it was your mother's.

The reason you wore the necklace was that it was your mother's.

The reason you wore the necklace was that it was your mother's?

"Rhayen told me it was gifted to my mom when she was our age. So-uhm, here it is!"

You never wanted to smack yourself more. Your voice cracked an impossible amount of time for such a few amount of words. You stuttered and acted as if you stole the necklace yourself from Coriolanus's family.

But he didn't see it that way in the slightest. He found it quite endearing and it was an obvious ego boost.

Sure, the reason for you wearing it may have nothing to do with him, but doesn't erase the fact that you are wearing his house ring.

You found his silence nerve-wracking and couldn't help but shrink under the pressure.

"Do you want it back? It's clearly the Snows so it's totally in your right!"

You began to move to take it off and managed to unclasp it before Coryo could stop you. But when you started slipping out the other rings to give him the one in the middle, he put his hands out over yours in a motion to stop.

Once again, the space between you two was quite thin.

"It was a gift to your mother, right? If so, then that means it's yours. And besides, it looks better on you than it would anywhere else."

He attempted to reassure you but you weren't convinced.

"Even so, you know this is worth a lot of money, Coryo. A lot of money that can help you and your family."

He knew this but refused to let it sink in. He was not going to take the one thing he could give you.

"Not ours to sell. It's yours."

The "as it should be" ran through his mind but never past his lips.

Your hands were still being held by the tall boy when he offered to place the necklace back around your neck.

You agreed and turned, moving your hair out the way and stared at the setting sun and brilliant hues decorating the sky. You could feel the cold metal slide back in place and as you felt the metal secure, Coryo moved your hair back in place.

Everything was back in its proper place. Your necklace, hair, and location. You and Coriolanus alone together watching the Capital in all its beauty. As if it all moved to your will.

Reluctantly, you turned your head to once again be met with the intense stare of enamored Coriolanus Snow. And once again, your faces were just mere inches apart.

But the ever-continuing staring contest was broken by the quick knock of Tigris.

"Y/N, Coryo, time for dinner!"

Her voice was slightly muffled by the door but you could hear the exhaustion in her tone. You took a huff of air as you gave a look back to Coriolanus as you got up.

The door opened up to a clearly tired Tigris. But her face no longer sinks in on tireless nights such as these.

And no matter how little she sleeps, there is still a smile gracing her features.

Much of it is due to the constant food and drink you bring whenever you come (nearly every day), lighting the load on her shoulders.

Said food was neatly prepared and smelled delicious. Because of your constant supply of material, Tigris has been able to try out some new recipes and enjoy meals instead of simply eating whatever is necessary for survival. You were even able to smooth-talk your way into Ma Plinth's secret recipes for her.

But it was all food you could not take from. This meal is a crucial part of their survival and you were fortunate enough to be able to have one the same size at home.

That is why you began excusing yourself as they began to settle in. Your excuses of needing to go home and rest did not convince Coriolanus in the slightest.

"Y/N, it's okay to eat. It's the food you brought over anyways!"

He had moved from his position by the table in order to come and take your hand. He saw the slightest hesitation in your eyes and took his chance and began lightly dragging you to the table.

You would have fought back but the delicate figure of his grandmother stopped any sort of action. You didn't wish to be seen as rude and when she noticed you and your hands intertwined with her grandson, you couldn't argue with her sweet smile.

And that is how you ended up at the dinner table with the last remnants of the House of Snow.

Tigris was explaining the new method of clothing construction that is going to overtake Capital fashion when the sound of her ancient grandma'am perked up.

Grandma'am was often silent in meals with a faraway look glossing her aged eyes. She never even seemed to take notice of the conversation nor who went or came. And especially not what anyone wore. But today seemed a day of surprises.

"My, how is the way I find out!"

The three of you all turned to figure out what the cause of her shriek was. Tigris asked what the matter was and the older woman disregarded her question and moved to situate herself right next to you.

You felt small as you sat in the chipped chair while she loomed over you. You shared a look with Tigris, who motioned to wait on any actions. You both needed to let it play out to inform what to do next.

A wrong move and the sweet woman in front of you would be transformed into the vile monster of fables. You've experienced it firsthand.

"What have you found out Grandma'am?" The term came naturally to you as it would have felt too odd to call her "Mrs. Snow" as she is only spoken as Grandma'am now-a-days.

She quickly clicked her tongue and feverishly shook her head. Her wrinkled hands took the silver ring as she analyzed it.

"I thought you were going to go with the one with the big diamond. And dear, it is far more suitable to wear it on your hand. How else will anyone know you are set to marry?"

The silence was strangling. Everything felt so unnatural. Grandma'am's oddly intense smile, a confused and seemingly horrified Coriolanus, and of course, you.

Mistaken to marry.

Marry Coriolanus Snow.

The only one who seemed composed was Tigris. You quickly gave her a look and mouthed to her "news?'

She gave you a quick nod across the table. The small and minute interaction was not lost on Coriolanus, even though he himself was lost. You followed orders and brought up the new renovations of the Capital park.

"The pond is stunning! The ducks are coming back naturally. And the flower garden is such a magnificent sight! You must go, Grandma'am. I could take you there if you wish?"

You finished off with an awkward smile. The panic surging through your veins made you accidentally offer to take her out for a day. Something you knew Coriolanus wished not to happen.

He fears what damage it would cause to his reputation if his grandmother was seen out and about in clothes that dated before the war. Tirgis could likely make something more modern out of those old dresses, but she knew her grandma'am would refuse wholeheartedly.

However, grandma'am quickly took the bait, and the previous topic was long forgotten. She seemed eager to see the flower garden, and your little adventure out. You hoped this would be forgotten just as quickly. By both her and the analyzing Coriolanus.

But if there is one thing about Coriolanus, it is that he never forgets.

So as you both cleared the table later that evening, his stare kept on locking into your moving figure; assuredly, in question and suspicion. He wasn't going to engage first, however.

His mind was making a thousand reasons and explanations instead of simply asking. You didn't wish to leave it to Coriolanus Snow to make assumptions.

"I would recommend having your eyes on the knife when cleaning it, Coryo."

His attention once again had drifted to your side profile as you were drying the dishes he was cleaning. Instead of focusing on the task at hand, he turned off the water and turned his whole body to you. You put the plate in your hands away and mimicked his position.

He didn't say a word and just took you in. His silence and constant picking apart began irritating you.

"Just ask me your questions. I don't like being watched and judged. Who are you, Arachne?"

You had moved around him and began doing the dishes he had neglected. His stare never once left you as he finally shared what was on his mind.

"Would you be ashamed of marrying me?"

You were grateful that you were washing a fork and not a plate because you were sure it would have been dropped in shock. Instead, you let the water run absentmindedly and held the fork so harsh that your knuckles turned white.

Coriolanus didn't know what to make of your reaction. How absent you've become. He feared he just confirmed your answer.

He moved to shut the water off after a few seconds. After all, every drop of water counts.

Is that why you wouldn't want to be with him? Was it his lack of money? That he could (hopefully would soon) change. Or was it him? Was it his family? Was it your family? Would you listen to your father?

Coriolanus also seemed to shift into his universe of panic, eventually mimicking your hold on the fork, but his was the faucet handle. It must have been quite a sight for poor Tigris to walk into.

"Are you both alright?"

She questioned the two teenagers holding onto the objects for dear life and burning holes into the nearest walls with their eyes.

The sudden intrusive voice caused you both to jump, then the realization of the other caused another jump.

Tirgis laughed at your reactions and shook her head. You two were surely the oddest people she knew, and that's saying something.

Or maybe it's what one of you does to the other?

She moved to grab the dusty cabinet handle and clutched a chipped cup. Her every move being watched by you and Coriolanus.

She turned around to the sight of you both wide-eyed and watching her. She felt quite uneasy and now was sure she interrupted something, no matter how strange it seemed to be.

The young adult moves to the sink to fill up her cup, and you both quickly part to give her room. The sound of the water filling up the cup also filled up the stifling silence. Once filled, she took a sip and glanced to her left at you and right at Coryo.

Did both of you lose the ability to blink?

She knew whatever she walked into was most likely Coriolanus's fault, but if she told him as much, she knew you would hear.

And probably the entirety of Panem judging by the quietness of the moment.

She cleared her throat and bid you both good night as she quickly walked and turned the corner. But not with one last look at the two teens doing anything but look at each other.

After she had left, you had gone back to washing the dishes, and Coriolanus drying the dishes. Roles essentially switched as you were now the one staring at him. Trying to find some sort of answer. He didn't know what you would find so he tried to give one of his own.

"I only asked because when grandma'am started talking about the ring and marrying, you looked to Tirgis. You both looked like you were expecting it. I didn't know what to think of it."

You've seen a lot of Coryo these past weeks but seldom has there been a time when he has looked vulnerable. Coriolanus Snow usually knows all and can read people so easily. But being left out of the loop by the closest people he has horrified him. Enough to make himself look like a fool, he thought.

You knew he didn't like feeling these emotions, much less express them. So you paired your explanation with an understanding smile.

"Sometimes when you have to finish up projects or had to run out, grandma'am comes and joins me and Tirgis. I don't mind it really and she usually just sits for the company, not the discussion. But sometimes, she uhm- she thinks I'm someone else. Like today. And me and Tirgis have a little list of topics to bring up when she starts going down that path. Just distract, not refuse."

Coriolanus let it sink in for a moment. He knows his grandmother's dementia overtakes her most of the time. He also knows that while she is mostly non-aggressive, her fury can come to the forefront. Well, she can be happy when lost in her mind; her fury can make an appearance as well.

It saddens him, however, that not only didn't you come to him about it, but Tirgis didn't either.

You noticed his facial expression and tried to assure him that there was nothing more he could have done. He nodded reluctantly and unsure.

"You don't have to take her, you know. To the park, I mean. She forgets everything but whenever you mention flowers, her memory is as sharp as can be."

He mumbled his words; the way his grandma'ams memory worked never ceased to surprise him. With the events and people it forgets and remembers. Especially when it came to you.

You promised it was not an issue for you if it wasn't for him. It might even be nice spending time with her out. The thought of being so close to Coryo's family that you would be taking the most secluded member out made you blush.

By the time you both finished, it had become quite late, and you needed to get home for enough rest. Tomorrow would be the first day you would officially come back to society after the funeral.

If that wasn't exhausting enough, Reaping Day comes with its own load.

Coriolanus, as always, offered to walk you home, but you persuaded him to stay and get as much sleep as possible. Which wouldn't be much due to his nerves and thoughts racing through his system.

You finished putting on your last shoe as you looked up at him. "Meet you here then walk together, right?"

You both talked about the heightened anxiety tomorrow, and if each has the other, the load would feel a little lighter. He nodded in assurance, and you opened the door ready to leave.

But something made you stop, so you couldn't move in the door frame. You turned your head to his face, lit up by the warm and dim lights of the apartment.

"Hey, Coryo?"

His eyes slightly squinted in confusion but waited for you to elaborate.

"I wouldn't be ashamed. Not in the slightest."

You had to duck your head to hide your teeth-bearing smile. You were scared of his reaction, so you quickly shut the door behind you and made your way back home.

In the apartment you left behind, a shocked Coriolanus stood. The shock quickly morphed into a smirk and pride.

When he turned around, donning the brightest smile, a smirking Tigris awaited him. Leaning on the corner wall in dusty pink nightwear, she had observed your little goodbye.

"Seems like you already won the prize, Croyo."

And with that, she leaves the head-over-heels boy in her wake.

He wasn't sure if your confession would give him the best sleep of his life or keep him up all night in thought.

Whatever the outcome may be, the reality of your presence tomorrow would be greater than any dream.

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The girl staring back in the mirror felt foreign, a stranger really.

You haven't changed much these past few weeks physically. A little bit of lost weight and slightly paler, but nothing unless you look for it.

But something behind your eyes was a calling sign of a shift. The last wish of your mother's came rushing back.

Don't change.

The reflection showed your straight posture while you donned a black midi dress with elegant blouse sleeves and sleek angular trimming on the neckline. Your hair was styled neatly with dainty pearl earrings and, of course, the necklace of rings.

Have you changed?

The ever-present little voice says that's not even a question anymore. The relevant one is how much?

You checked the small clock on your desk and noticed you needed to leave, or you are gonna end up running to Coriolanus's home. You check your reflection one last time, debating whether or not to display the rings.

Well, that ring. You would have enough eyes already; you didn't need any other unnecessary gossip.

You picked out obsidian black shoes to match with your dress. You were finishing up the last strap when the front door opened hastily.

The sight of your disheveled father saddened you on this already difficult morning. You haven't seen him since his outburst on the day of your mother's funeral. He has spent the last two weeks in near confinement at his office in the defense bureau.

Wonder where you got the trait of throwing yourself into work from.

If he isn't there, he is most often at his sister's house, your aunt Aeris. He came back to the apartment that seems to haunt him with memories as pale as a ghost. He wanted to get out of there as quick as possible. The only reason he came was that he had forgotten a few important papers. His haste was so intense he nearly missed your presence.

It wasn't until the sound of your hard shoes hitting the marble floor that he was alerted. You both acknowledged each other, but the air was stuffed thick with uncomfort.

Of all the days to reconter each other.

You coughed awkwardly, trying to figure out something to say. Your father seemed to do the same. The silence simply became too much, and you broke.

"You look well."

He didn't. You both knew he didn't. But instead of calling you out, he did a slow nod of acknowledgment. You huffed out a breath and grabbed your small purse as you got ready to walk out.

"Tell Aunt Aeris I hope she is well! Take care, father."

The word felt foreign. Sure, you would always describe him as your father around others, but that was normal in the Capital. You always called him dad. You assumed that you two had a relationship better than most father and daughters in the city but once your mother got sick, he shrunk into himself. The memories and love seeming to dissolve with him.

You opened the door and already had one foot out when he called for you. "Happy Reaping Day."

You paused and turned around, an emotionless expression on your face. You hate that he said that. You hated it because your mother hated today and all the Games stood for. But a significant part of you hated it because of the reminder that the bitterness her death has caused you.

Caused you to start warming to the Games. That's what you hated the most.

"Really, take care of yourself."

You didn't mean it in a harsh way as your tone was soft, but you said it with meaning. He couldn't take care of you, and there would be no reason for him to try to at this point.

You closed the door and left the already broken man to crumble like his life.

The timing of your arrival at the Snow penthouse matched perfectly with Snow's descent outside.

He looked as if an angel had descended from the heights of the universe, in a beautifully designed and crisp dress shirt, no doubt masterfully crafted by Tigris. His golden curls were lightened by the warm morning light. His eyes shined with determination that somehow made him even more handsome.

It took a second for Coriolanus to turn your way and realize your being, and it took a couple more seconds for him to recompose himself while he took in your appearance. You couldn't help but giggle a little and walk over to him. You adjusted the red rose on his vest that had been moved due to the strap of his bag.

"You look even more handsome than I thought possible for one man to be." Coriolanus is used to girls trying to flirt with him and his good looks, but all those compliments can come across shallow, a means to an end.

But yours was completely authentic. The grin that spread across his face was unable to be stopped. He offered his arm, which you gladly took, and began on your way.

He bent over to whisper into your ear as you passed a group of older women who smiled at the pair of you, a sign to them that happiness is an opportunity for the youth now, that even Dark Days haven't stolen that.

"I've stopped being surprised by your beauty. I am just thankful that I'm graced with it."

Oh, the charm of this boy.

The closer you both got to where the festivities would be held in Heavensbee Hall within the academy, the stiffer Coriolanus's arm got. You stole a glance at his face, hardened in worry.

"You do know you are going to win, right?" He seemed to snap out of his thoughts at your words.

"We both know it isn't certain. Maybe if we had a dean who didn't despise me, then maybe I could rest easy. But Highbottom is going to do anything to make sure we don't see a cent of the prize."

He hung his head low, and his shoulders showed a feeling of defeat. This look wasn't normal for Coriolanus Snow and unimaginable to nearly all others. But lately, as you've shown him your vulnerability, he has reciprocated.

You squeeze his arm a little, causing his concern-filled eyes to flutter to your own.

"Nothing is going to stop you from getting the prize, okay? If I need to break into the house of whoever Highbottom wrongly awards it to and steal, I will do it with a smile on my face. You deserve it, Coryo. You've earned it."

He smiled softly at your words and wondered how far you really would go for him.

If only he knew.

"And how are you going to do that? Climb tens of stories and smash through the window?"

He teased you on your ability for malice. You were known for being an unusually sweet person. The image of you trying to rob someone made him chuckle.

As he was laughing in your face, you rolled your eyes.

"I can be very threatening, you know!"

He laughed even harder. Even bending over in laughter. You had enough and immediately stopped, causing the blonde to slightly jerk forward due to the sudden pause.

You grabbed his arms roughly and forced him to look at you. His laughter died in an instant when he saw the seriousness within your eyes.

"Coriolanus Snow, you are going to win the Plinth Prize, and I swear if I hear one more doubt about it, I will be feeding you rat poison myself."

There have been very few times Coriolanus Snow has been wrong, but with the look in your eyes, it was clear that you would be able to carry out your threats.

Once you were sure he got the message and your ability, you let go and started up your walk. He grabbed your arm, pulling it through his and regaining your prior position.

"You know if I don't win, I deserve an apology for the threat." You turned to him with a deep glare and scoff.

"Didn't I literally just say I don't want to hear doubt!"

You were met with a series of heartfelt chuckles. His voice got an octave deeper as he got close to your ear once more.

"I'm not very good at listening to instructions, darling."

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The academy was filled with lively chatter and elegance on every possible surface. Only a few steps in when a certain dark-haired girl stopped in front of both you and Coriolanus.

"Y/N! I didn't know you were going to be able to come!"

Clemensia excitedly said as she moved in for a hug, which you returned. You smiled at your dear friend.

"Ah, well, I couldn't miss the victory gloat of this one."

You slightly turned back to Coriolanus, who softly scoffed at your words. It helped inflate his ego but also your argument about the size of it.

"Well, when you he does, remember I was the humble class partner."

He gave her one of his notorious charming smiles, but internally he was rolling his eyes as dramatically as possible.

The only work Clemensia did was write her name and look pretty.

Coriolanus wondered how things would be if you were his class partner instead of her. If he just said no and rather asked you.

Then again, you had instantly chosen Sejanus as yours. You always stood by him ever since that first conversation. And today was no different when you spotted him on the other side of the hall with his ma.

You bid your goodbyes to Clemmie and Coryo, assuring the latter you would meet up later before the announcement. Even as he locked his arms with Clemmie, who led the way and conversation, he watched you.

He didn't like that you were walking away; the feeling of someone else's arm in his felt like a crime.

But you were completely oblivious to the enamored boy's feelings as you smiled to the Plinths. You were quickly barged with a hug and motherly affection by Mrs. Plinth. As she enveloped you in the squeezing hug, she complimented you endlessly in ways that made your heart warm due to her affection.

Once finally freed, you turned to her sharp-looking son. You gave him a quick hug and assured him of his appearance, which he thanked.

"However, I would rather be wearing rags and be covered in filth than be surrounded by these pig-" the rest of the insults were cut off by your sharp jab done with your elbow into his side.

A group of powerful politicians and businessmen were right in front of you and began engaging in conversation with his mother. You two were unfortunately forced to stand there and be the example of future prosperity they talked so estimably about.

Across the hall stood the ever-judging gaze of Arachne, Festus, and Felix. The group, who stood in the middle, were soon joined by Coriolanus.

"Finally, some viable competition," Arachne admitted as she took in the newest addition to her clique. "Hmm, snazzy shirt. Is that tessare?"

He smiled that irresistible smile. "Huh, so that's why it reminded me of the maid's bathroom."

The red-headed girl looked him up and down in analysis as the other two chimed in.

"Have you tried this lamb? It’s scandalous," a munching Felix added over his plate.

"Ugh. Only the vulgar eat with their fingers, Felix," Crane rolled her eyes at the disgusting display.

"What, Daddy not teach you table manners?" Festus added.

"Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country."

Moments like these make Coriolanus question why he was even worried he wouldn't win when he is surrounded by blabbering idiots.

But They had the option to be idiots. He didn't.

His attention was snapped back by a venomous scoff by Arachne.

"She's been back for what? Five minutes? And we don't even get a greeting while she contaminates herself with the likes of them."

Her poisonous gaze was trained on you, who seemed to be charming a group of older patrons and leaders of the financial sector of Panem. Coriolanus didn't like her tone directed to you nor her implication.

"She already said hi to Clemmie. Besides, she came here with me."

That last line caused the group of complicated adolescents to pause. Each turned, with a wrinkle in their eyebrows, to stare at the smirking blonde. His eyes were on your smiling face but didn't waste the moment to turn that smirk on them as assurance.

And just as suddenly as the situation occurred, it was ended with your entrance into the group; which, of course, was right by Coryo's side.

"I hope I didn't enter at too bad of a moment."

You said smoothly and in your tone that no one could ever seem to refuse. There was no hint of inner conflict nor unease in your body language nor voice.

You sure were giving Coriolanus a run for his money in the art of acting.

Felix, Festus, and Arachne shared a collective look of conspiracy. But for some reason, whether it be a feeling of celebration of Reaping Day or to be pocketed for later, they let it drop for now.

"Hey, they called us here for the Plinth Prize, right? Because I heard Dr. Gaul’s in the building."

You looked around and noticed all the key figures who aid and conduct the Hunger Games. It confused you on why they would celebrate the Games here, in the middle of the Capital academy. But the subject changed just as fast as the Capital's attention span.

“Plinth.”

They all turned their heads to snort in his direction, and you refused to follow their gaze of displeasure.

"I mean, look at his spawn."

"Who would have thought that you could buy your way into the Capitol?"

"Well, you can’t buy class."

You've given them enough time to snub him when you perked up.

"Clearly, you all are experts in the lack of class, are you not?"

Instead of the usual nasty retorts and efforts to convince of his lack of worth, Arachne laughed as if you were a misunderstanding child.

"Oh, Y/N, you need to learn to let him understand his place in this world. Besides, you are clearly moving on to bigger and better things."

Her smirk was odd but so was her blatant glance at Coriolanus as she shared her thoughts no one asked for. You looked to the handsome teen who locked eyes with you.

The others continued their attack on the Plinths' entire existence, but you were too focused on the blue orbs that seemed to have stiffened. No words were spoken, but the message was clear.

Let them speak their minds.

It will only hurt to refuse. Hurt you and Coriolanus.

Sejanus has lived long enough with the whispers about him; he can deal with it.

But the wrong whisper about Coriolanus? It will ruin everything he was worked a decade for. And you wouldn't even risk the slightest crack.

"Did you see his mother’s outfit? Sorry, his 'Ma’s.'"

You had more than enough insults about the teasing boy's own appearance, but your tongue had to be bitten.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown, and it’ll still beg to be mashed."

You had to gulp down your emotion and nausea as Coriolanus joined in the fray.

"Don’t do that. We all know that you like him."

Arachne countered him. You were grateful for it, even though you knew it did not come from a place of compassion.

"I don’t like him, Arachne. I tolerate him. He’s district."

But the sneering girl wasn't looking at him when he responded. Her interest lay on you and your mediocre attempt to hide your opposition.

Who would have thought the mighty Vaun heiress would have a weakness in the form of charming, young Snow?

It didn't surprise the teetering Casca Highbottom, who watched the two with a keen interest from the back of the room. He continued to watcg as the very boy Festus Creed discredited appeared by the snubbing boy's side.

"Sejanus, you made it to the Reaping for once."

Sejanus stood on your other side as he turned his wit towards the curly red-headed boy.

"And you made it to graduation, Festus. We’re both shocked."

You were glad Coriolanus joined in your laugh at his jab. If there was one thing to say about interactions where Sejanus has to interact with the snobbing clique, it was entertaining.

But Arachne was not in the mood for a show.

"Spill it. Who won the prize? Is Y/N the winner? Is that why of all the days to make her reappearance, it would be the day she gets her shiny prize?"

You do question why you are still friends with someone who is so quick to jump to conclusions sometimes.

But Sejanus was quick to step in and put his hand out in front of you as a sort of protective force.

"Oh, no, I’m not gonna ruin my father’s big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money. You know what that’s like, don’t you, Arachne?"

Oh, yes, so so entertaining.

Well, to everyone but the brunt of the joke.

"Funny."

The sound of magnificent music filled the hall, signaling the attendees to take their seats. You moved to a near seat by Coriolanus as the one by Sejanus was already taken. Sejanus seemed to be explaining something to Coriolanus, but you couldn't hear what. But seeing the color drained from his face assured you that it was nothing good.

All questions were cut off by the booming and crawling voice of Dr. Volumnia Gaul. As she addressed the crowd in her odd manners, you began to wonder what role she is playing in the Academy today. Maybe even the Plinth Prize?

She introduced Casca Highbottom, the constantly intoxicated Dean of the prestigious academy. And the creator the very inventor of the event this "holiday" was created to commemorate along with the Capital victory.

He draws on about the Hunger Games and the students' eagerness for the Plinth Prize winner, but he would never inform of the victor.

No, to your horror and Coriolanus's frustration, there would be one final task to determine the winner.

"But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games."

Best said by the creator of the bloodbath. You were meant to create children of your same age or younger into spectacles to win the prize. They didn't have to survive for you to succeed.

The realization that this will only amplify the widespread thought among your peers that districts were subhuman, hit you at once. Second class citizens.

They are to parade around in their last moments, all in mercy of their puppeteers: kids their same age. It sickened you.

But if it sickened you so much why does that voice still keep telling you that at least they have a chance to win? More of a chance then they had given you all.

The continuation of your moral conflict was paused as you tuned back into the words of your stumbling Dean.

"Your entire future rests on this last project. Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage… will just have no future at all."

His words seemed a bit targeted and enjoyed too much. Nevertheless, the ceremonial music initiating the Reaping Ceremony began.

As each name from the districts was announced, so was the accompanying mentor. Anxiety began surging through your veins as it finally hit you that you will be an integral part of this year's games.

Blood will be on your hands.

You didn't know what to think when the district one tributes you were announced and your name was absent.

Should you be upset that the likelihood of a successful tribute is going to dwindle the further down the list goes?

When it was district two's turn, you hoped that neither you nor Sejanus are named. You knew he was going to suffer most regardless, but having to mentor someone from his own district was its own special punishment. All hope was crushed, however, when Highbottom opened his mouth.

"How apt. Boy goes to Sejanus Plinth."

The crowd applauded, but the sound of blood in your ears drowned it out. You instantly peered around Coriolanus to look at Sejanus. But his gaze was glued to the floor in front of him. Due to your now-close proximity, you could hear the talk between the two boys.

"You got the pick of the litter."

"You forget. I’m part of that litter."

The grave tone in Sejanus's voice wasn't one of surprise. But rather one of understanding. Understanding why him and why the tribute he landed with.

The tributes and districts kept on coming and coming. But not a singular mention of either you or Coriolanus.

It had gotten to District Ten and yet nothing. You turned to look at him and found him already staring.

That mask was fixed perfectly for all else. But the mask could never mask his eyes.

His now dull blue eyes filled with fear. And Coriolanus Snow showing fear was enough to ensue new waves of emotion in you.

You had the same mask plastered on, but you couldn't stop yourself from fishing your necklace out. You grazed your fingers across the cold metals of all three to calm yourself as District Eleven was finished up.

Your hand dropped to your side and was quickly grabbed and given a squeeze of reassurance by Coryo. Maybe even a transfer of bravery.

You both knew what was to come now. Who was to come.

However, you were too quick to judge.

"Twelve! Boy, Y/N Vaun!"

Maybe you were imagining things or letting your mind play tricks on you, but Highbottom's voice sounded as if it was laced with a slight enjoyment.

However, your attention was turned to the boy appearing on the screen. Jessup Diggs. He was tall and broader than you would have imagined. His face was stone cold and lifeless. A mirror of yours. How odd.

The moment to analyze was over as soon as it started when Highbottom began again.

"Oh. You’ll be happy about this, Ms. Crane. The “runt girl” from District 12, she belongs to Coriolanus Snow. Lucy Gray Baird."

The whole room seemed to freeze as a girl in a beautifully designed colorful dress walked solemnly to the front. A boy seemed to try to talk to her, but her eyes stayed forward with her hand clasped behind her back.

"What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?" Arachne mocks, but you found it fascinating.

"I think it's beautiful."

Your genuine and soft admission brought back Coriolanus Snow's senses. But they were reinvigorated when a red-haired girl began shrieking in the crowd. It made him stand up in fear and shock. The mayor's daughter, apparently.

Others in the hall seemed horrified and disgusted. Especially with Lucy Gray's musical performance and ending line.

According to Arachne, she was mentally ill. But to you, she was fascinating.

While everyone began getting up, you leaned over to a still-shocked Coriolanus. "Even when all the odds were against your favor, you still seemed to bag a winner."

You really believed she had a shot at winning. She already had attention and clear potential. You could tell Coriolanus was thinking the same thing, but his hope was not fully shared with your amount in the girl. Lucy Gray is clearly outgoing and has, at least, the ability to charm. She is going to need a lot more than that, but fortunately, she has a clever mentor.

You stated as much in an empty hallway that you shared with Coriolanus. He was racked with stress and purpose as he paced back and forth the space.

"You know he purposely gave me the weakest tribute. He is doing all he can to stop me from moving forward!"

He took a strong bite of the crackers that he sneakily grabbed from the table of food earlier. You leaned on a pillar as you let him rant.

"Let him do all he can! Fate seems to have different plans. And was it that you always say? 'Snow lands on top!' "

He stopped his pacing to land in front of you. He had a few crumbs on his shirt that you instinctively brushed off without thought.

His glance back and forth between your features and hand on his chest.

"And besides, the future president of Panem is gonna deal with a lot of petty men like him. You are just getting early practice."

Your optimism showed through your pretty smile. You peeked up at him, and the intensity of his eyes had you bite your lip in nervousness. Maybe you stepped over the line? Maybe you got too comfortable? Maybe—

All thoughts seemed to dissipate the instant Coryo leaned in.

You didn't know what to do and were doing your best not to freak out. It's not like you didn't want to because that would be the biggest lie of your life.

But you've never kissed anyone before. And what if he was just wrecked with nerves?! What if it meant nothing?

What if it meant nothing.

But as Coriolanus was a millimeter from your lips, the clearing throat paused any further action. You quickly turned your head as the blonde opened his eyes and followed your gaze.

Oh, had he wished he didn't.

There stood the cursed Dean. A look you couldn't decipher expressed on his face.

"President? Well, my oh my. Ambitious, just like your father."

You glanced to your right as Snow now stood next to you, with a guarded yet confused look.

"Oh yes. He and I were best friends. Once."

Highbottom's targeted gaze fixed on you. "And your dear mother. I was so saddened to hear of her untimely passing."

His tone, however, felt anything but. He turned his attention back to the heir of House Snow.

"Enlighten me, Mr. Snow. What are your plans after these Games?"

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?"

"I hope to go on to the University, sir. Naturally." Coryo answered as if it was the most preposterous question in the world.

"We’d pay the tuition, of course."

Casca Highbottom's sunken eyes seemed to shine as if he had caught fresh prey.

"Look at you. Your makeshift shirt and your too-tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snows don’t have a pot to piss in."

Both you and Coriolanus had bewildered looks gracing your features on his knowledge. The boy's breathing deepened as he tried to calm himself, but you could see the small sheet of sweat building on his face and neck.

Highbottom was already satisfied with his effect on Crassus Snow's poor offspring. But what more could a little fun hurt?

He took calculated steps towards you, and Coriolanus took a noticeable step forward, as if a shield from the hollow man's words. The dark-haired man's eyes seared into the ever-attention-getting silver ring. His smile made your skin crawl.

"And here I thought you would be smarter than your mother. But of course, the Snows are known to be entitled."

And with that, he turned his back, making his grand exit. He didn't even turn to give a look as he addressed Coriolanus.

"Good luck with that poor little songbird."

Once assured he was truly gone, you and Coriolanus shared a look. A look of horror, anger, and determination. Determination to make Highbottom wish he ate his words.

He may have thought he put you both in the worst positions possible. But there is a thing about two people put in a corner.

They can create quite a stir.

And there sure was a storm brewing.

Your anchor and lifesaver being the retreating blonde with a straightened back and a purpose never more solidified.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

A/N: AND ITS FINALLY OUT! pls don't send me into the arena🙏 I know I said it would be out DAYS ago (maybe even a week ago im sorry!) But I didn't like my original draft as it seemed just too rushed. I don't wish to post bad writing just to be timely. I hope you guys enjoyed the newest chapter and please let me know what you guys think and if you enjoy the longer chapters! Pls lmk guys I have been awake nearly 24 hours. Much love❤️

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹@mindymeeksmartinsgf 🌹@dilucpegg3r 🌹

[whinlatter]

So I am obsessed with Beasts. And specifically I cannot stop thinking about Ginny and Hermione getting ready for the NYE party. It made me start wondering if Hermione has ever felt jealous of Ginny? Like they grew up together and Ginny was the younger girl, who was excluded from the “Harry/Hermione/Ron club” so she’s obviously felt a little jealous and left out there (which you explore so well!! Agh the telling Harry it’s fine, and maybe he’d rather hang out with them than her, and pretending to herself she doesn’t care!! But I digress). But now I’m wondering if Hermione has ever felt the same about Ginny and if you will explore this more in this work or a later one? Because Ginny is cool. She’s Hot, she’s sexy, she’s popular. She pulls off that Union Jack dress perfectly and has got everyone looking at her. She’s many things that Hermione is not (or hasn’t chosen to be). While Ginny has had lines of boys wanting to go out with her, Hermione has had Harry and Ron who are her best friends.. but Harry’s not an option (for either of them) and Ron has been pretty pigheaded and oblivious through a lot of their relationship (and her as well lol). And we don’t see a lot of evidence in canon that she has many other friends. People see her as the know-it-all, kinda awkward, sometimes ruthless (rip Marietta) girl. But i guess my point is, Hermione isn’t seen as hot, sexy, popular, cool like Ginny is. The Yule ball was her one big moment really. So her putting on that little black dress and letting herself be hot… idk it gets me feeling some type of way. Like yes you go girl! And I want to know Hermiones feelings here in regards to Ginny. Like I imagine she’s happy for her, but I wonder did she ever feel sort of left out of that part of girlhood/coming into womanhood that Ginny had just so naturally embraced?

THANK YOU for reading and for the beasts love, you legend 🫶

so i have been thinking about this question a lot! no-one will be surprised to discover that i find hermione and ginny's relationship in canon so so interesting. it's neither the relationship of natural besties, but nor does it seem to be a relationship of pure convenience: there's genuine love and warmth there, the swapping of confidences, meaningful advice, emotional support in moments of distress, and more than a little boy scheming (taylor swift wrote mastermind about hermione and ginny, change my mind). i tend to think of them as sisters, though very much with hermione as the big sister, and ginny as the little.

i say this because i think my answer is no, i don't think hermione would be jealous of ginny as a hot popular girl, in canon or after the war as i imagine it in beasts. but i do think that there might be reasons for different kinds of insecurity and jealousy from hermione towards ginny, especially after the war. full reasoning and minor beasts spoilers below the cut!

one of the funniest things about hermione is that, by her mid-teens, she's reasonably self-assured about her social position and her place on the dreaded teen romance market. after she's made some mates and sorted her teeth out (something she clearly was insecure about), she's pretty content. she doesn't feel especially upset about the absence of a large circle of friends or crave the approval of the other girls in her year, parvati and lavender. she has harry and ron's friendship for a lot of her emotional needs (and, beginning in GoF, ginny, for the one's that they can't meet). when it comes to boys, hermione consistently really backs herself (as she should). when krum's interested in her, she's flattered but not astonished that this international quidditch player would want to ask her out, and the ball's mostly in her court throughout their courtship (ok penpals!) when she wants to make ron jealous, she backs herself to be able to bag both cormac and zacharias and to have her pick of them (icon). she enjoys a nice dress up - the yule ball, the wedding - and knows she scrubs up well. and while she's tapped into the public mood/gossip mill (romilda vane's love potions, harry's growing fanciability, cho's quidditch fortunes), she's not especially interested in popularity herself. she'd rather be thought of as clever than she would hot or popular, for better or worse. i think we should take hermione's encouragement that ginny tap into the growing number of boys who fancy the pants off her to help get over harry in good faith. in her mind, ginny's her little sister, and hermione gets a lot out of trying to steer her towards things that might make her happy. (she disdains fleur for her obsession with appearance and seeming desire for male attention, but she thinks of ginny as her ally in being opposed to such things, not another rival).

(that doesn't mean i think hermione doesn't ever feel insecure or even feel humiliated socially, but that her insecurities are more about her feelings for specific people (read: ronald bilius weasley) than they are about the approval of her peers. when ron takes the piss out of her in HBP, for instance, she's less upset that parvati and lavender laugh at her than she is that ron, who she fancies, is mocking her and the other girl who fancies him, lavender, is laughing at her. for the most part, hermione in canon is happy as she is)

that said... i do think that hermione might have complicated, or even jealous feelings towards ginny in other contexts. in canon, the tensions in hermione and ginny's relationship are the moments where the big sister/little sister dynamic is most visible, or else when ginny tries to reject hermione's big sisterly approach and assert herself as hermione's equal. in OotP, when hermione becomes a prefect and ginny spends the prefect party laughing with tonks and sirius about behaving badly, we see hermione's big sistery approach on display, as well as her teetering with a desire to get involved with the troublemakers while also remaining pretty committed to being well-behaved in her bones. we see elsewhere that while hermione advises ginny, we have no evidence that that happens the other way around, or at least that hermione takes any of ginny's advice (it seems to hard to imagine ginny approving the cormac/zacharias plan, for one). their fight in HBP over sectumsempra isn't ginny calling hermione on not being involved in quidditch because she's not cool enough, it's the suggestion from ginny that hermione is wrong about harry's best interests, doing up i-told-you-so, being too wrapped up in her own ego over the prince's book, and then trying to manipulate ginny by bringing up quidditch in the first place (which causes ginny to go for the jugular and bring hermione's intellect, and lack of understanding on quidditch, into it). hermione's disdain for how much time harry and ginny are spending together during exam szn is also plainly big sistery, and, as it bothers harry, i think we can assume it's also something that ginny would grate against too.

in the post-war world (as i see it in beasts) i think these dynamics would be more visible than ever. ginny's lived a certain kind of war that's made her less happy to be patronised or dismissed as a little sister figure rather than an equal: she's also a symbol of the world hermione feels increasingly lost in. hermione is head girl of a student body she feels extremely removed from, while ginny is widely respected as a resistance leader among the other students, and especially admired within the DA. her conflict with ginny is really an extension of hermione's post-war conflict in general, which is about her place in the wizarding world at large: where does she fit in, in this post-war world that's both so different but also (in lots of troubling ways) very much the same, full of many of the same prejudices and problems that defined wizarding society in the interwar years. another of hermione’s big postwar conflicts, in my mind, and in fanon more generally, is about hermione's relationship with her self - as a former soldier now trying to go back to normal young adulthood - and her relationship with her family. the reason i wanted hermione in that little black dress looking fit was partly to have her try and reach out to her pre-war self who did enjoy getting dolled up and stunting on the hoes (even if maybe not in a dress quite so short, slay), but also to have her play with the idea of being allowed to do something so frivolous like look fit to turn her boyfriend on (real slay), and to have her start to publicly wrestle with a different set of external expectations, not from her peers, but perhaps from a parent she recognises she doesn’t really know:

Hermione tries for a smile, sad eyes tracing the dress’ low neckline. ‘My mum would hate it,’ she mutters. ‘She - ’ She shakes her head, throws up her hands. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she wouldn’t. I don’t know.’

i always think about that scene early in PoA where hermione and ginny are laughing with mrs weasley about love potions. it's such a cute moment - really the first hermione and ginny friendship moment in the series - and i'm very struck that it's a moment of real fun and levity that happens with this mother figure present (especially when hermione has just ditched hers to go hang out with the weasleys for what will be the first of many times). i don’t want to say too much for where things are going in beasts, but just that i think it’s significant that hermione and ginny’s first real girly friendship moment happens in the presence of a warm maternal figure who adores her daughter, imbuing hermione and ginny’s relationship with a sisterly-ness but also bringing into the dynamic the example of mothers and intergenerational female relationships. ginny has a very specific relationship with her mum; i imagine hermione has a very different one with hers, and i think that matters for who hermione is but also her relationship with ginny, just a bit.

loved thinking about this one, thank you so much!

[giggly-bun]

Hey! Idk if this would be too much to ask, but could you possibly please write a fic with Lee! Kaveh and Lers! Alhaitham, Cyno, and Tighnari? Maybe it can be a twist on the dinner scene at the end of his hangout quest when it’s just the four of them and they tickle Kaveh to make him cheer up a bit! Some really good verbal teasing that would make Kaveh all cute and flustered would be amazing as well 👀

Thanks!

Cheers to That {Sumeru 4}

A/N [WARNING THIS IS A TICKLE FIC] if you don’t like it, don’t read it. Sorry for any mistakes that i’ve made but i hope if you read this I hope you enjoy it. i hope it’s up to standard for everyone and thank you for your patience anon <3 - bunny 🔮

Why was he so useless? Everyone was just messing with him, they didn’t really want him around. How could they? He brought nothing to the table and everyone only sticks around for pity and-

“Kaveh!” 

His head shot up at the call from Tighnari. The blond looked around and realised that not only was Tighnari staring at him, but Alhaitham and Cyno too. They looked like they were expecting something from him. 

“I-I’m sorry, what did you say?” The blond replied, stammering over his words as he tried to shake off the dark feeling welling up in his chest. Why did his eyes feel hot? Tighnari looked at him with a concerned look. 

“It’s your turn to put down a card, Kaveh.” The fennec repeated, realising Kaveh was too lost in his thoughts to know what was going on. Said blond jumped a little and placed his card down while muttering out some brief apologies, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away without an incoming interrogation from his friends and roommate. 

“Kaveh, is everything alright?” Cyno asked, and it made the architect wince a little. 

“You don’t seem quite yourself tonight, you’ve barely touched your drink either.” Tighnari reiterated, gesturing to Kaveh’s full plate and half empty cup. Kaveh just gave an awkward laugh and shook his hand. 

“Pfft, what’re you guys talking about. Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m perfectly fine.” He said. As some sort of proof, he backed the rest of his drink and put it back on the table with a smile, “See? I-I’m just not really in the drinking mood right now.”

"Kaveh." A low and brooding voice said. Of course, the sound came from none other than his roommate, Alhaitham. "What's the matter?" He asked. Naturally, after being around each other for so long, the scribe knew Kaveh better than anyone, much to his dismay. The blond sighed, glancing back around the room at his friends, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Was the room always this small? Wait- why did his cheeks feel so wet-

"Kaveh why are you crying?" He heard Tighnari speak, or perhaps Cyno- When was the last time Alhaitham said anything? It was a terrible feeling, being out of control of your body, yet being acutely aware of your surroundings simultaneously. Before he knew it, there was an arm around his shoulder, and he was facing Alhaitham, the gray haired man having sat himself right next to Kaveh in the flurry of emotions. 

"Kaveh, I need you to just breathe for me." His other half said, tone low, but concern lacing every fibre of his words. "You're safe here, just relax. Breathe with me." He repeated, and Kaveh did as he was told. With each breath he started to feel more and more relaxed, his worries beginning to dissipate as he realised he was, indeed, safe with his friends. Shortly after he had calmed down, Cyno and Tighnari joined them at the other end of the table. "Kaveh, is everything okay? You can talk to us about whatever is bothering you, we're your friends." Nari chimed in, rubbing comforting circles on his back. Kaveh rubbed the tears from his eyes and sighed.

"I-I'm sorry about that, it's just that I thought you guys might be better off without me here. I was just thinking about how I don't really contribute anything to the table as far as our friendship goes, so I apologise for ruining the mood." He looked around apprehensively, expecting his friends to judge him. Instead, he was greeted with looks of worry.

"Kaveh, that is absurd." Cyno spoke first. "We have you around because you are our friend, and we are happy to have you around." The general put a comforting hand on the architect's shoulder.

"I agree with Cyno. Kaveh, you're funny, kind-hearted and a general delight to be around. And there isn't a chance that you ruined our evening, you never do."

"If anyone ruined the evening tonight, it was general Cyno with those lame jokes he is always spewing." Kaveh looked at Alhaitham with a small smile on his lips.

"Hey! They are not lame jokes, they are funny, you just lack the comprehension for my humor." Cyno rebutted.

"To understand your humor, the joke would have to be funny first." And so, their bickering began, Cyno dishing out more jokes to which Alhaitham and Tighnari groaned, while Kaveh watched the scene play on. He had to admit, he was glad the atmosphere wasn't awkward, and he found himself giggling at the hilarity of the situation. His three friends looked over at the sound.

"See, even Kaveh thinks my jokes are funny, you two should take after him." Cyno stated, a proud smile etched on his lips from the thought that Kaveh was laughing along with him.

"Cyno, while I appreciate your efforts to make us laugh, I must admit the jokes are pretty lame." Tighnari barked out a laugh at Kaveh's response, and Haitham turned away, concealing a chuckle under his breath. The Mahamatra sat back with an offended look on his face, scoffing slightly.

"Kaveh, my dear friend, I thought you were on my side."

"I am! It's just that they aren't the best jokes." 

"Well, if that's how you feel, then I suppose I should give you something to truly laugh about."

"What do you me-EHE! Cynohoho nohohoho!" Kaveh squealed in delight. The other two looked down to see what Cyno was doing, and they quickly realised the situation when they saw said general skittering his fingers up the length of Kaveh's sides. The architect squeaked, attempting to bat the other's hands away, but like a true warrior, Cyno didn't back down.

"I think you mean, 'Cyno yes!'" he chuckled, moving his hands to scribble at the grooves of Kaveh's ribs. "Now, what kind of friend would I be if I just let you sit there with a pout all night." Kaveh lurched at the new feeling, thrashing his body vehemently, and ultimately backing up into Alhaitham, his counterpart sitting with a faint pink hue on his cheeks.

"Guhuhuhuys hehelp me! Plehehehease." Kaveh begged through his cries. He kept his hands pawing at Cyno's while calling for the others.

"I don't know, Kaveh. You do seem pretty happy, perhaps this is what you need to pick yourself back up." 

"Nohoho Nahahari I ahaham fine! Hehehelp mehehe- GAH!"

"I suppose I could help, just this once." He heard the fennec reply as he shuffled closer. "Say, Kaveh, what are your worst spots?" Kaveh's eyes bugged out of his head comically, the question sending shivers down his spine.

"Why wohohould I tehehehehell you!" He squealed out when Cyno hit a particularly ticklish spot on his ribs.

"Because we just want to make you happy. I'm sure Alhaitham knows, don't you Alhaitham?" There was a beat of silence while the two lers looked over at the man who had stayed silent throughout the whole ordeal. Kaveh took the opportunity to breathe, and he looked at Alhaitham wearily, because he most definitely does know. 

“I have no knowledge of Kaveh’s worst spot.” He said, tone flat, and Kaveh thanked his lucky stars that he was playing it safe. 

“S-See? So, let’s just get back to- AHA! NAHAHAHA!” 

“I do, however, know the spot that makes him scream.” 

That bastard!

Alhaitham had silently lifted his index finger and began to drill it into the center of Kaveh’s upper back, toggling with the muscles in a way that, in fact, made Kaveh scream. He thrashed and tried to move back away from his junior, but Cyno kept him in his place by putting his legs over Kaveh’s lap. Oh, Kaveh almost cried. 

“PLEHEHEHEAS- NOHOT THEHEHEHERE! HAIHIHIATHAM!” He screeched and squealed, face burning as the noises he made echoed into his own ear. 

“Wow, he’s really ticklish there.” Thighnari said, ears twitching at the sound of Kaveh’s ears. 

“He’s got a cute laugh, I’ve never seen him so giddy.”

“STAHAHAHP TALKING LIKE IHIHI AHAHAHAHAM NOHOT HERE! NYAHAHAHA-“ Alhaitham changed the pressure in which he was tickling and it sent the poor blond into new bouts of laughter.

“Indeed, I’ve found it’s an effective way to shut him up whenever he talks nonsense.” Haitham said smugly, not being able to hide his smirk any more. “He also cannot stand it when I do this.” Using his four fingers, he began to rake them up and down the stretch of exposed skin shown through the back window of Kaveh’s shirt. Curse that shirt! Kaveh almost flew out of his seat, jumping 6ft in the air at the sensation. 

“DOHOHON’T- I CAHAHAHAN’T I HAHAHATE YOU!” 

“No you don’t.” 

“He never laughs this hard at my jokes.” Cyno huffed out.

“That’s because Kaveh is more ticklish than you are funny, obviously.” That comment earned Nari a flick to the ear.

It was terribly ticklish in the worst way possible, but why was he not hating this as much as he should be? I mean, he never truly minds when his friends tickle him, it was just humiliating, emphasised by the blush spreading to his ears. 

“OKAHAHAY- ACK! ohohoOHOKAY I GIVE! I GIHIHIVE I’M HAHAH-“ His laughter dipped into silence, only being heard again when a snort broke the quiet. “I'M HAPPY! nohohoho mohohohore!” Fine, they’d had their fun. Alhaitham removed his hands, watching Kaveh shakily sit up and avoid eye contact with the rest of the group while he caught his breath. 

“Are you feeling better, Kaveh?” Cyno asked, facing him with a small smile. 

“Yohohou know whahat? I actually am, I think I needed that, thanks guys. But you all owe me another drink!” 

They laughed at that, and thus the drinks kept coming, and Kaveh had forgotten his earlier troubles in favor of living in the moment with his friends. 

[aesethewitch]

Notes from an Ex-Empath (Full Ver.)

This post is a highly personal account of my time as an empath. It’s a doozy, and I didn’t mean for it to get so long, but as with all things that really matter to me, it got a bit out of hand. I’ve left out the goriest of the details, but still take heed of the content warnings. Thanks for reading. (Placed under a cut for length.)

Content Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of unhealthy home environments, emotional manipulation, cult behavior, mental health struggles, delusions, brief mention of hallucinations and nightmares, self worth issues, compulsive lying, toxic friendships, and teen angst.

Subtle Beginnings

The year is 2011. High school is hard. Like, really hard. Harder than it should be, probably. I’ve just left an abusive relationship to enter a new one which would turn out to be, you guessed it, abusive. Escapism is the norm, and I’m always looking for new ways to feel in control of my life.

I’ve always been a little strange. I saw my first ghost before I knew what death was. I talk to trees and the wind, and I know all the names of the local rivers, right down to the little creek behind the school. But by this point, I’ve learned to not say that. I know it’s weird, and I’m happy to be weird. Weird is cool, at least in my friend circle. Outside of it, not so much, but I’ve learned to Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way my way through life at this point.

My friend buys a cheap mood ring from a shop in the mall, and that’s how we learn what auras are. She’s into it. I’m into her, even if I don’t know how to articulate that at the time. So I get obsessed, because I don’t know how to be anything else. I read all about auras and color theory and energy and “chakras” on loud, multi-colored websites proclaiming that you (yes, YOU!) can become a master of aura-reading and energy healing in just one month for only $12.99…

I don’t learn about being an empath (or Indigo Child, or Starseed, or whatever we were calling ourselves at the time) from the internet. No, a different friend overhears us talking about auras and mood rings and meaning (because I’d spent hours and hours reading about it and am now eager to display my knowledge; I like being an expert; I like knowing things), and he asks us if we’re empaths. He tells us what they are — people who can feel the emotions of others acutely and are highly sensitive.

And I think about it.

And I think about it some more.

And then, I think, hey… I do feel others’ emotions. I take them on like they’re my own. I carry them on my shoulders and between my ribs and in my bones, and it’s second nature. And I say, yes. Yes, I am an empath.

An Inexperienced Expert

Taking on the title of Empath was like finding the Holy Grail. I finally had a word to explain why I felt so energized in crowds but drained after going home, or why I found other people’s pain so upsetting and visceral, or why I could guess my friends’ emotions even when they were able to hide them from everyone else. I felt like I understood myself at long last.

I wasn’t sensitive. I wasn’t a crybaby. I was an empath. It was a superpower, something that made me special. Because it was a superpower, it was something I could learn to harness and control. My sensitivity would no longer rule me; I could learn how to rule it.

I did a lot of reading. I went to the library and read books with titles I can’t even remember anymore. From firsthand accounts by other empaths to explanations of energies I couldn’t actually understand, I was way out of my depth. But I liked to know things. I liked to be an Expert (tm).

Honestly, I still do. I like knowing what I’m talking about. Being an insecure child who needs to feel in control and enjoys being respected, I could pretend that I understood. I did plenty of that all the time, and it worked out (most of the time). False confidence was something I was finely attuned to already. I could bullshit my way in and out of any situation I wanted easily — from teachers forgiving missing homework to lying about my whereabouts to my controlling parents to pretending I was attracted to my boyfriend at the time, I was an expert in lying to survive.

Surely I could pretend to know what I was talking about. After all, I was an empath, an Indigo Child with a beautiful, healing, pure white aura. I was wise beyond my years, in tune with the Universe and all its creations. The information came from inside me anyways, and all those books said to trust my intuition. The voice in my heart that whispered about how special and different I was for being an empath was right, and I shouldn’t question it. A little improvisation wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

… Right?

When my friends asked about it, I spoke with confidence. I proclaimed myself an empath to anyone and everyone. No, I couldn’t actually see auras, but I could act like I could. The vibes were there — I could feel them like pinpricks of lightning on my skin and as little nudges at the back of my mind. All I had to do was squint and assign colors to those feelings. Sometimes, I thought I really could see them. I can’t discount it entirely, but I’m likely to attribute it to tricks of light and wishful thinking now, looking back.

I had a reputation for Knowing Things. Weird, niche facts. Being right about obscure topics. Remembering minute details from notes at the end of the teacher’s presentation given three weeks ago. Guessing right answers to questions I’d never heard based on logical reasoning and deductive skills. I had near-perfect grades in the top 3% of the class. I had a side-gig in helping people improve their essay skills.

So, when I talked about being an empath, my friends believed me. They proudly proclaimed the colors of their auras as I painted pictures for them.

And it felt good. I was both the center of attention and had no spotlight on me. I couldn’t see my own aura, so of course, I couldn’t tell them what mine was like. But theirs, oh, theirs? That was easy. I had a gift for telling them exactly what they needed to hear. I solved their problems in a flash, giving the perfect advice and predicting outcomes using nothing more than good old-fashioned vibes.

An empathic gift, of course. Understanding and unselfish love are tenets of the Empath Way. We’re healers, I told my friends, and that’s why people ask me for advice. It’s why I’m so good at it, I said. I never took my own advice about self-love and choosing better relationships — that wouldn’t come until several years later — but that didn’t matter. My issues were trivial; I had The World to worry about.

Despite my newness to the empath scene, I positioned myself as not just an expert but The Expert. It wasn’t really on purpose. I couldn’t help myself. My friends wanted me to be a wise, trusted source of information, so I was one. Or, well, I thought I was one.

The goal was never to fool anyone. I believed with my whole heart that I was an empath, a Starseed, someone born to do noble things and help people. It was my purpose. As an empath, I had a duty to spread good vibes whenever I could. If I couldn’t do that, I was worth nothing.

Sometimes, that meant talking out my ass about concepts I read about at a bleary 1:00 AM before having to wake up at 6:00 to catch the bus to school on time. If I made something up or said something untrue, it was because it “felt right.” And that made it simply right in my mind. Those books and blog posts and articles said it was.

As far as experts go, I definitely was not one. I hesitate even now to call myself an expert in anything whatsoever. But back then, it was a matter of course. My friends wanted advice, so I gave them advice.

My friends wanted me to be an empath, so I was one. Some of those friends felt the same things I did. Others’ emotions, the burden of it all, the weight of responsibility for everyone around us. We were empaths together.

I was never more alone, and I had absolutely no idea.

Downward Spiral

At the time, I wouldn’t have called it a spiral. I wouldn’t have called it a mental health crisis. And I certainly wouldn’t have blamed the whole empath thing for any of it.

No. Of course not.

As I graduated high school, I was entirely adrift. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my life. All of my friends were going to be leaving for college elsewhere while I stayed home to go to a local one.

But that summer, I was intent on enjoying every last minute of my life. It was time to take charge of my existence. I still called myself an empath, but it was more like a personality trait than anything else. An explanation, a fun fact. I’m double jointed, I dislike sweets, I’m an empath.

And my friends were empaths, too. Well, most of us. One was a “brick wall” of a guy — a skeptic who found us fascinating and wanted very much to believe in what we were doing and saying. At the same time, one friend was getting into Wicca. And, afraid to look like a fool, I pretended I knew all about it. I knew generally what Wicca was, because of the empath stuff running over into witchcraft circles. It was enough to sound competent, and that was enough!

So, suddenly, I was The Expert on Wicca and witchcraft and magic. A lot of it was stuff I really did do and believe, so it was simple to fill in the gaps with logic. And what I couldn’t make up, I ignored. Or I looked it up later and pretended I knew all along.

Anxiety was my constant companion. I was an imposter in my own life. This was just one more act to put on.

And because of my empath abilities, it was easy! I could determine the right thing to say at the right time. I read the room, felt my friends’ energies, and adapted accordingly. We did rituals and cast spells, and through it all, I relied heavily on my ability to read them clearly.

So when I failed to read one friend and it cost us everything, it was devastating.

I won’t go into details to protect their identity. The entire thing was… ugly. I spent a long time miserable over it. But I knew, even when I was heartbroken over it, that it was my fault. The empath in me was clinging to everything too hard, seeing what I wanted to see instead of what was. I needed to be The Expert, and I was failing at it.

There’s a lot about that time that I don’t remember clearly. What I do remember is a lot of stuff about past lives, reincarnating together, and misguided notions of deities and magic and history. It was a mess. One delusion fed into another, building into a web of intricate, interweaving stories. We were encouraging each other’s theories and beliefs and feelings without criticism, because to challenge one person was to challenge the entire structure.

And we couldn’t do that. Because to do that would mean admitting that we were all lying.

Because it would mean I wasn’t an empath, wasn’t special, wasn’t anything. I was just me, and I’d be back to square one with no clue about what was wrong with me.

That house of cards was years in the making. When that friend split off and stopped talking to us (to me), I thought it was going to come crumbling down. And in many ways, it did.

I dropped out of college barely two weeks into the second semester because I was failing every course but one. I started seeing a therapist, and then another one, and then a psychiatrist. I received words for my anxiety and even ADHD. Things started getting better, little by little.

Lingering Problems

I reconnected with someone from high school by chance. We got very close. I helped raise her new baby. Things were good.

And then, old habits rose. The need to be Right and Expert ate me alive, even though I recognized them as symptoms of anxiety. But with this reconnected friend feeding into my insecurities, echoing those feelings of inadequacy and out-of-place-ness and a need to belong somewhere and to mean something, it was hard to logically sort those thoughts.

Everything was about being an empath. Our shared difficulties, our pains, our burdens — all of it was because we were empaths. We were empaths because of lingering past lives.

I won’t get into those, either, because they’re so incredibly specific, and I don’t want the people involved to see this and Know. Just know that our lives revolved around being empaths — special, sensitive, powerful, and made for infinitely complex purpose.

People who weren’t empaths were simultaneously lucky and pitiable. They would never know what it’s like to walk into a room and Understand everyone there. They would never have to bear the weight of someone else’s grief.

I wouldn’t say we looked down on non-empaths, necessarily. At least, not on purpose or consciously. Their lack of skill wasn’t their fault, after all. They were normal. We were special.

Notably, this is when I stopped using the term “starseed” at all — it was close, but not good enough to describe what we were feeling. It was a woefully human way to understand what we were, you see. A convenient word that didn’t encapsulate us, because we were special, even among the ever-special starseeds. We didn’t have a word for what we were. We didn’t really need one, because we didn’t need to describe ourselves to each other. We just Knew.

When I read my friends’ auras and described their energetic feelings to them (which I was an expert at by that point; my natural empath abilities had been honed to a fine edge), I was as thorough as possible. Mostly, I was accurate. Anytime I wasn’t, it was because of someone’s protective barriers or natural resistance to being read. We went to cemeteries so I could commune with spirits and tell my friends all about their energies. They couldn’t exactly challenge me about it, so they accepted what I said as Truth.

I was their Leader. How could I possibly be fallible?

It was, in the end, the accuracy of it that kept me in the empath mindset. The positive feedback loop I’d created for myself just confirmed my empath feelings. And if those were right, then everything else must’ve been, too — because it all came from the same place.

It just made sense.

I kept a journal off and on during those years. Reading through it now is… well, it’s harrowing. The entries are dated. Much of it is free-writing, a technique I still use today as a warm-up exercise. But almost all of it is a cry for help. It details hallucinations, delusions, nightmares, dissociative episodes, depressive episodes, manic spirals, and more.

If someone were to share this with me today, I would suggest they seek help with their mental state immediately. At the time, I believed myself to be receiving visions of the past. I believed that my empathic abilities were opening me up to a long lineage of lives I could tap into and, perhaps, return to one day.

There is a small, injured part of myself that wishes I could return to those feelings. No matter how unhealthy it really was, it made me feel strong and special and wanted in a time when I knew, deep down, that I was none of those things.

It was a comfortable lie. I knew that the past lives were bullshit. I did. I can admit that now. It was a series of elaborate lies built on lies built on lies.

And yet, I still firmly knew I was an empath. That kernel of truth never wavered. It was the foundation.

I was slowly teaching myself magic during these years. I’d been doing spirit work and tarot for years already, so the craft was almost second nature. It took a back seat to the rest, but it was there.

Even as my relationships grew less and less stable, I had magic and spirits and my empath abilities to fall back on. Surely everything would be alright.

By Tooth and Claw

After the unhealthy friendship I described above dissolved rather spectacularly, I spent a few more years harboring the past life stories. They morphed slowly into fiction, and I gradually lost interest. My remaining friends from that group and I would talk with disdain about the one we’d cut out; she wasn’t good enough. She was lying.

Because our memories were different, you see.

The justifications we crafted were as elaborate as any other lie we told. She really was a manipulative person whose goal was to “own” our friendship — and we acknowledged that. But we still couldn’t shatter the veneer between all of us that the rest was all lies.

So we left it. We didn’t talk about it again. But it lived on in my mind and in that digital journal. It haunted me.

And, as all toxic friendships built on shared lies tend to do, that relationship also imploded.

It left me utterly friendless. I had no one but my partner at the time, and even that relationship wasn’t exactly going well. I was questioning my sexuality all over again, and I’d just started acknowledging the whole Gender thing, and I had no one to talk to about any of it. It was a miserable existence, but I’d still rather have no friends at all than have friends like those.

I abandoned all of it. Without the people who propped up the lies, there was no need for me to keep going. I stopped with the past lives stuff, I stopped all the magic, I stopped my spirit work, and I stopped calling myself an empath.

It was… Well, it was easy. Shockingly so.

Healing from the rest was decidedly not easy. It took a lot of hard work and introspection. I had to own up to the lies I told myself and others, even if I was never going to be able to have the closure-inducing conversations with them.

I decided to start choosing myself. I made new friends. I dumped my boyfriend who I hadn’t been in love with for over a year (or maybe longer). I started dating my current partner. I let myself move on.

I’m now about seven years out of that last friendship, and I finally feel like I’ve moved on.

My laptop died. I saved my necessary files and moved them to my current PC.

I didn’t bring the journal over.

The Draw and the Cost

When you’re a scared, sad, lonely person, you’ll go looking for fulfillment anywhere. You’ll accept whatever others give you if it means they’ll value you for even a single moment.

Positive feedback means everything to someone who has never received it before. When you have to work hard for an ounce of attention or affection at home, you come to expect that you’ll always have to do that everywhere you go.

I remember when Facebook became a thing just as I was starting to become my own person in high school. Liking pages called things like “Getting caught in the rain with your best friend” and “Ultra kawaii girlz do it best!” and “Sorry I read your mind, I’m an empath LOLZ” and “RANDOM TACO MUSTACHE PANDA ATTACK!” was par for the course after school. (Sorry for the psychic damage.)

I also remember the first call-out post I ever saw on Facebook. It was about some girl in my grade who I didn’t know. The girl who posted it was an empath, of course, and accused the other girl of being a fake, cheating liar. I don’t know if it was true. At the time, I took it at face value — after all, the accuser was an empath. Empaths don’t lie. Obviously.

I still struggle with compulsive lying. I suspect I always will. The drive to be an Expert is a part of me that I’ll never be able to get rid of. The need to be accepted and appreciated, too, will never leave me. It’s part of why I love this platform, and all other forms of written communication, over speaking to people verbally. While I can usually catch myself before I tell a reflexive, unnecessary lie these days, I sometimes slip. It’s an embarrassing thing. I try to force myself to admit it and then tell the truth.

Usually, I succeed. It’s a work in progress.

But typing, I can backspace. I can delete shit. I can keep things in my drafts and edit them and adjust wording to my heart’s content. I can remove messages and take things back. It’s easier to say “I was wrong” or “This wasn’t true” to strangers on the internet, after all.

Now, as I near thirty years old, I have better language to describe what I was feeling. The overwhelming emotions from everyone around me, the overload I felt in crowds, the reflex to please everyone, the uncanny ability to read a room’s atmosphere at a glance…

I was an undiagnosed autistic child with serious trauma and unmedicated ADHD. I needed help. I asked for help. Everything I did was a cry for help.

I wanted to feel special. I wanted to feel powerful. I wanted to feel useful and valuable. I wanted to feel different in a way that was manageable.

I wanted language to describe myself that was empowering. “Empath” was empowering and manageable and useful and valuable and powerful and special. It felt good. And because it felt good, it felt right. And because it felt right, it was a solid band-aid on the open wound of my life. “Empath” was an escape from the reality of my situation. It made everything easier to bear.

I’m sad because I’m an empath, and someone in homeroom was crying.

I’m angry because my parents’ fight leaked into every corner of the house, and I couldn’t help but absorb it into myself like a sponge, because I’m an empath.

I’m so happy I can’t contain myself, and I have to flail and jump around, because everyone around me is cheering and singing and dancing, and I feel it all like a growing avalanche that echoes through the walls of my body and rings in my bones as a song I cannot contain. Because I’m an empath.

I’m always being hurt because nasty people are attracted to my empath abilities. It makes me an easy target. That’s just how it is, and that’s how it’ll always be, because I’m an empath.

I’m too sensitive, too soft, too emotional, because I’m an empath.

Every step I take away from the “empath” label is done with the full knowledge that without it, I wouldn’t have survived. I needed something to cling to, and “empath” was enough to keep me afloat. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, I was looking for Meaning.

Besides, “empath” was an easier word to swallow than “traumatized” or “abused” or “mentally ill.” It didn’t taste as bitter. I didn’t choke on it.

There were no resources for me. All I had was what I could fashion myself out of bubble gum and black sharpie and sheer force of will and please God, if you are there, let me live another day. Everything I am, I owe to my own two hands and luck.

I don’t need the “empath” label anymore. I’ve outgrown it. I recognize it for what it is now: a patchwork explanation for other phenomena in my life that are better explained from a psychiatric standpoint — and from a truly philosophical, spiritual one.

To this day, talking about empaths and twin flames and starseeds and past lives and everything that goes with those things remains a trigger. It gets easier and easier to manage, but I still blacklist those tags. I avoid it at all costs. Empaths I can manage, for the most part. Twin flames I won’t abide; soul mates are on thin ice. Starseeds are a crock of shit for a whole bunch of other reasons. Past lives… it’s the only thing I won't really talk about at all.

And I ask you kindly, please, don’t ask.

Where I Stand

I’m still paying the costs of all this. When you spend most of your life under immense stress, having yearly crises of one kind or another, it kind of fucks you right up.

A few years ago, I returned to witchcraft. I started small. I did a little simmer pot to welcome myself to my brand-new apartment. A little protection here, a short meditation there. It felt good. I didn’t feel like I was slipping backwards.

After that, I returned to spirit work and divination. My old allies welcomed me back with open arms. It was a relief to unwrap my tarot cards and find the spirit attached to them still there. I set up a little altar space for them. Things were good.

I returned to the cemeteries. I apologized. The conversations I was having with those spirits were real, but I wasn’t respecting them the way I should’ve. We made a deal to even those scales, and I’ve paid in full. Those relationships are better than ever. Some of those spirits have followed me, per our agreements, and I work with them regularly.

And things are good. I haven’t done any backsliding. Last year, I allowed myself to question the nature of the universe and theories on magic and how it actually works. I made the connection with Lady Fate and drew up a theory on connections in magic. And it was fine. It is fine.

I’m extremely alert to the signs. I remain critical of my experiences. But I’m letting my personal practice be… casual. Natural. It’s just for me, not a performance. It doesn’t need to be spectacular or even produce results. It just has to be gratifying.

I started this blog for myself. I wanted to encourage myself to try new things and get out there again. It’s hard to make friends and connect with people, and I’m wary of IRL groups — for good reasons I’m sure you can guess at.

It’s been extremely cool to get to interact with people here. I get to vet people before I ever talk to someone. I can sweep their blog for signs of things I want to (need to) avoid. Blocking people is good for my health. This is the safest environment I’ve ever had to explore, communicate, get feedback, read criticism, and learn about witchcraft.

I am immensely grateful to my various lovely Tumblr mutuals, to my Discord pals, and to the folks I follow in all my witchy spaces. It’s through great effort that I’m able to talk about this stuff at all. I wouldn’t have realized I could if not for a brief mention in a private Discord server about doing a post about being an ex-empath.

It’s been so long since I’ve thought about it. It all feels so far away now. I know the distance is a testament to my own hard work. The difference between my mental health then and now is staggering. Even on my worst days now, I am nowhere near that level of Bad.

Where do I stand? On my own two damn feet, that’s where.

A Bit of Advice

I will never use the “empath” label again. I don’t think anyone should, though I understand the appeal. Obviously. You’ve read this far, I’d be surprised if you thought I don’t get it.

Instead, explore what you’re actually experiencing. Are you showing signs of a manic-depressive cycle? Are you having symptoms of anxiety, autism, ADHD, or depression? Do you know what depersonalization and dissociation are, and what they feel like? How about synesthesia, such as mirror-touch synesthesia, which can help explain why you feel a touch on someone else’s skin as though it was on your own? What feels bad, and why? Is your home life fraught, or was it? Are you looking for ways to cope with feelings that are too large to contain?

Do a simple search for “empath traits.” Check out any list of qualities empaths have. Make note, in particular, of the traits you identify with. Now take a look at a list of, say, “autism traits” or “PTSD traits.” Check out the overlap between them.

It’s important to consider mundane causes and mundane solutions. My greatest mistake when I picked up the “empath” label was that I believed there were no resources for me. I even said it up above that there were none.

But there were. Trusted teachers, the guidance counselor, the youth council director. Clubs, support groups. There were places I could have gone, but I was so far inside my own mind that I couldn’t see them. And the people around me were so dazzled by my false confidence that they couldn’t see how badly I was struggling. Admitting I needed help was akin to admitting defeat, and I couldn’t do that.

But you can.

“Empath” Alternatives

When I went looking for other accounts of people leaving the “empath” label, I was surprised to find… not a lot of bitterness. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Empaths” are often of the “love and light” persuasion, and that sort of philosophy isn’t always so easily let go of. Empathy for our past selves and the community surrounding even the most toxic of concepts is par for the course, don’t you think?

The primary thing most ex-empaths share in common (from what I’ve seen) is that they’ve outgrown the label in some way. Whether they realize why they picked up the label is hit or miss. Some, like myself, drop it almost unthinkingly after years of using it to define ourselves and only realize years later why we used it and what it did to us. Others leave it behind by choice, opting for more up-to-date terminology or paths.

I know this might be a little surprising. After all, I’m a witch. I do magic, and I work with spirits. Surely I believe in empaths as a concept, even if I ended up not being one.

No, I don’t. Not really. Some people really are naturally sensitive to others’ energy and/or feelings, and energy work is a real thing that you can do.

But the “empath” label isn’t helpful. If anything, it’s reductive. Why would you want to reduce the plethora of abilities and skills at your fingertips to a single word? Why submit to a rigid, fantastical definition that encourages self-martyrdom and unhealthy social behaviors when reality is much more interesting?

If you really feel drawn to calling yourself an “empath,” consider why that is. You’re sensitive, you’ve got an interest in the supernatural, you want to dip your toes into magic, or you just Know You’re Different?

Primarily, consider the fact that you’re likely neurodivergent in some way. See the above section about that, and do those trait searches again. Be really honest with yourself.

Secondarily, consider simple energy work instead. Rather than relying on a prescribed set of traits laid out like a cheap newspaper astrology column that’s so vague it could apply to anyone with the right spin because it’s been written by someone who doesn’t know what a Capricorn is, focus on an actual goal.

The first mistake people who pick up the “empath” label make is the assumption that they’re Special and Different. While you are a unique human being, you’re no more special or different than the guy next to you on the bus who’s got the spiritual sense of a lump of clay. You don’t need to be special or different. You just need to be human.

Sensing certain types of energy (like emotional energy) might come naturally to you. That’s great! It’s a real strength that you might have; it’s one that I certainly have, and it helped to confirm my “empath” related delusions described up above. Instead of resting on your laurels about having this talent, put some work into it. Figure out how to manipulate your own energy. See if you can feel plants’ energy or just people’s. Research the various methods of energy visualization and manipulation. Read some theory. Learn how to read auras if you can see them.

(Which, by the way, I can’t. I’m on the more severe side of aphantasia, and I can’t visually imagine jack shit. The whole “reading auras” thing I talk about up above is a big old lie. I can work off of vibes and sensations to give an approximation of an impression of what something might look like, but that’s it. I’m basically blind in that regard. What I lack in sight, I make up for in my other senses, though, so it’s not a huge loss.)

If you’ve got a talent for guessing outcomes to things, you might find success in divination. Pick up some cards, dice, or literally any other method you like and give it a whirl. See what works and be honest with yourself when it doesn’t. At the end of the day, the most important thing is that: Be honest with yourself. It’s fucking hard. I know. Trust me, do I know. [Gestures to the above emphatically.]

Learn discernment skills. If you don’t know what that is or what it means or how to discern, there are a bunch of good guides out there. I’m sure I can scrounge up a couple to reblog in the wake of this post.

You cannot fix someone else’s problems. You cannot be a permanent balm on someone else’s life. Your worth does not lie in the service of others. Your life is not worth less than theirs. You should not be a sacrifice in the name of someone else’s carelessness. You aren’t responsible for the emotional well-being of everyone around you.

You don’t need to be “special” to ask for help. You don’t need a magical label to stand up for yourself and ask for accommodations. You are allowed to have feelings and react to other people’s existence and feel overwhelmed and experience second-hand emotion without putting yourself on the martyr’s pedestal.

Decide what you actually want from being an “empath,” and be honest with yourself. Do you want to use the “empath” label because it makes you feel less alone? Less scared? Less like a freak? Ask why you feel that way in the first place. What’s the thing wearing fear like a shroud? What is its true name?

And honestly, if you can’t subscribe to the “empath” label or do energy work or spirit work or magic or whatever without it risking your mental health… don’t. Just don’t.

Because I can attest, the band-aid doesn’t work. It won’t last forever. You’ll have to face the monster behind the mask sooner or later, and it’s significantly better to do it when you’ve got the choice.

Trust me. I’d know.

(Oh, and by the by: Don’t be mean or try to shame people using the empath label using my experiences. I won’t be a cudgel for you to swing at somebody else. Share this with whoever, but be kind about it.)

Hoo Boy, That Was a Lot, Huh?

Well. Like I said, this whole thing got away from me in a serious way. I’ve got other things I should be working on, but this… well, it took over my brain. Once I started typing, I couldn’t stop. And now here we are.

If you read this whole thing, thanks. No, seriously. It means a lot. I hope you got something out of it.

I mentioned somewhere in this whole thing that I don’t talk about this stuff. For the most part, that’s because I just don’t think about it anymore. It’s all in the past. But if my story can help someone or inform someone out there, well. Here it is. I’m open to questions. Respectful ones, mind you. I won’t be talking about past lives at all at this point, so like I said before, don’t ask. But any of the other stuff… [shrug]. Shoot. Some things I’ll have to omit or leave unanswered for the privacy of my past friends and relationships. And some things I just won’t talk about because it’s frankly none of your business.

But yeah. I’m releasing this into the wild. I almost decided to not publish this at all, but I think it's too important to keep to myself. I’ve given it a cursory look-over for grammar, but… honestly, I think it’s good the way it is. It’s honest.

And these days, that’s all I aim to be.

Shilling

Anyhow, doing words is my living these days. If you like these words or other ones I’ve written up, throw a couple dollars in my bread jar. Thanks again.

[Harmonica fades into the distance]

[believingispowerfulmagic]

A Royal Affair

Summary: Queen Regina of Mist Haven is slowly losing hope that she will ever be able to marry for love. Almost every aspect of her life is controlled, especially when it comes to her friends and possible love interests. It also doesn’t help that the media portrays her as an Evil Queen who only cares about herself, focused more on living lavishly than caring about her people. She finds the only men willing to date the Evil Queen are more interested in her crown than her. And then Robin Locksley becomes her new assistant and she believes in love at first sight, wondering if maybe her happy ending is possible after all.

Robin is grateful for his job at the palace even if it means working with the Evil Queen herself. His plan is to work as her assistant for a year to prove himself and then transfer to another department within the palace. But his worldview is shaken and he realizes that things aren’t always what they seem, especially when it comes to Queen Regina. As he starts to see her for who she really is, his feelings for her deepen into something dangerous.

Intrigue, romance and danger swirl around Robin and Regina as they fight for their happily ever after.

Chapter 1: FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Chapter 5: Secret Connections

FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Excerpt:

"YOU WERE POISONED?"

Regina pulled the phone from her ear as Lady Mary Margaret Blanchard's voice boomed from the receiver, full of panic and concern. She sighed, knowing her dear friend and sister had a flair for the dramatic. "It was food poisoning," she told her.

"That's not what Daddy said," Mary Margaret replied, still panicked. "He said that Whale told the council that you were poisoned with arsenic. Arsenic!"

"No, he reported there were elevated levels of arsenic in my bloodwork but not enough to definitively prove deliberate poisoning," Regina said. "It could've been naturally occurring in something I ate."

Her words, though, did not reassure her friend. "I don't think you're taking this seriously, Regina. Daddy says there are threats against your life all the time," Mary Margaret said.

"Exactly," Regina replied, reclining on the couch. "People threaten me all the time. If I reacted dramatically to every one of them, I'd be an even bigger ball of anxiety than I already am. And I am a giant ball of anxiety all the time."

"Oh, Regina," Mary Margaret sighed, sounding like she was going to cry. "I wish I could be there to hug you right now."

Lady Mary Margaret Blanchard was Regina's oldest and dearest friend, the closest thing she had to a sister. She had easily gotten the approval of Regina's advisors – the Blanchards were one of the original families that settled Mist Haven alongside Regina's and had enjoyed close ties with the Crown for centuries. It honestly was the reason Mary Margaret and Regina were friends in the first place – they were just together often because they were involved in the same social circles.

At first, their friendship seemed unlikely. Mary Margaret seemed to be the polar opposite of Regina. She was bubbly and outgoing, attracting people to her, while Regina was more withdrawn and introverted. Her mother expected Regina to behave perfectly, as if she had been born knowing all the rules of etiquette. It seemed after every social event, Queen Cora would have a list of things Regina did wrong and would punish her for them. While Regina eventually would come to learn everything she needed to know as a princess and would be praised for how polite and ladylike she was as a child, she dreaded all social events and would often avoid interacting with people so that she didn't make a mistake and get punished for it.

Even now, though she was an adult and her mother was no longer there to correct her, Regina still dreaded parties and other social events. She always left them worried she had said something wrong or done something wrong. That someone would then call her and scold her for what she had said or done like she was a little child.

It certainly didn't help improve her image in the media or expand her social circles. Many people found her then too standoffish and aloof. No one really took the time to get to know her, like Robin.

But unlike Mary Margaret. She had decided that she was going to be friends with Regina and when she set her mind to something, Mary Margaret did not stop until she attained it. Even though Regina made it clear that she found the other girl's bubbly and jovial personality annoying, Mary Margaret refused to give up. She kept trying to draw Regina out of her shell and win her over.

However, it wasn't one of her attempts that finally won Regina over. Queen Cora did not think that Regina had properly greeted a diplomat and didn't wait for the party to end to scold her daughter. She had smiled and excused them before letting Regina have it in the hallway, out of earshot of anyone in the party – especially King Henry, who usually intervened to stop his wife from berating their daughter. Regina had started crying, which had earned her a slap from her mother. That was when King Henry had intervened and told Regina to head to her room. She had fled but found Mary Margaret waiting for her. Mary Margaret had followed Regina and Queen Cora and witnessed the scolding, which had upset her so much she went to get the king so he could stop it. Then she took Regina's hand and promised to spend the rest of the time with her, even if it meant just sitting there and doing nothing if that was what Regina wanted.

And in that moment, Regina found her dearest friend and fiercest protector.

For her part, Regina tried to be the same for Mary Margaret. She wasn't sure if she was always successful but she still tried, hoping it would be enough.

Over the years, they still had their clashes – Mary Margaret was occasionally too cheerful and optimistic for Regina and she in turn was too pessimistic and tended to lash out at everyone around her. But they stayed by each other's side, teasing each other and supporting each other through everything life had thrown at them.

A lump formed in her throat as Regina thought of all the times she and Mary Margaret had comforted each other over the years. They would curl up under a blanket with cups of tea, loads of chocolate and a movie marathon. No matter what had been bothering them, they had always felt better afterwards. "I wish you could as well."

"Say the word and I can hop on a plane," Mary Margaret said. "I can be there by tonight if you need me."

"No, no," Regina insisted. "You're doing such great work for your mother's foundation. I know that's important to you."

Mary Margaret sighed. "You're important to me, Regina."

"I know," Regina replied. "But I'm fine. And you'll be back in no time. We can have a girls' weekend once you are home. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great," Mary Margaret said.

Regina smiled. "Good. And maybe David can join us for dinner one night as well. We can all catch up."

"I think he would like that," her friend replied. "And you can always call him on your own. He's always willing to come over."

"I have plenty of security," Regina said, knowing what Mary Margaret was trying to do. "I don't need your boyfriend to come protect me, no matter how good of a cop he is."

"He is a good cop," Mary Margaret agreed. "But I just meant for companionship. I worry that you get too lonely up in your palace. You two have spent time together alone before and I know you've both had fun. So why be lonely when you have each other?"

Regina knew her friend had a point. She did get lonely, feeling locked away in the palace. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her free arm around them as she thought of the time she had spent with David without Mary Margaret. He was the first of her boyfriends that Regina actually liked and considered David to be like a brother to her. From what she could tell, David felt the same toward her – once he got over the fact that she was the Queen. As Mary Margaret's boyfriend and a police officer, certainly her advisors wouldn't protest her spending some time with him.

"I'll see how my schedule looks," Regina said. "And I'll send David a message to see how his looks."

"Good," Mary Margaret replied, sounding relieved. "I'll feel better knowing you two are together."

She then changed subjects as her tone grew lighter. "So, tell me more about the new assistant. Robin, right?"

"Yes," Regina replied. "He seems to be doing well…"

"He?" Mary Margaret asked, interrupting her. "Robin is a he?"

Regina paused, realizing that she likely hadn't told Mary Margaret that. "Yes, Robin is a man."

"I guess I forgot that Robin can be a unisex name," her friend replied. "You don't really see too many male Robins anymore."

"I guess not," Regina agreed. "But this Robin is a man and he's a very good assistant. Well, at least administratively."

Mary Margaret was silent for a moment before asking: "What do you mean by that?"

Regina sighed, letting her legs rest against the couch again as she decided how best to word her response. "He's still new so Tink has him mostly doing administrative work. We're going to ease him into the more intimate duties of his job."

"Oh," Mary Margaret said. "I guess that makes sense. He is practically a stranger to you."

"Yes," Regina replied, relieved. "Exactly."

Mary Margaret hummed. "Are you okay with having a male assistant?"

"I am," Regina assured her. "It was a surprise at first but Robin is very respectful and very kind. He also has this calming way about him that puts you at ease and he can be very warm. I think he'll also excel as Tink eases him into more of his duties."

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would say you are smitten with him," Mary Margaret teased her.

Regina felt her cheeks burn as she tried to figure out the best response. But she took too long as her friend soon gasped before exclaiming: "You are smitten with him!"

"I guess you could call it that," Regina admitted.

Mary Margaret let out a little squeal. "Tell me everything."

Regina laid down on the couch, curling up with the phone. "There's not much to tell, honestly."

"Oh, come on," Mary Margaret said. "You don't have to be coy with me."

"I'm not," Regina replied. "It's just that my interactions with Robin are limited because of our jobs and the fact that he's not yet doing his full duties."

"But you like him," Mary Margaret stated, not bothering to disguise it as a question.

Regina nodded before remembering she was on the phone. "I do. I mean, at firs tit was most physical. He's very handsome with thick blonde hair and these gorgeous bright blue eyes. And when he smiles, he gets these dimples that just make me want to swoon."

"I can't wait to see him," Mary Margaret said and Regina knew that she would also find Robin handsome. He looked a little like her own fiancé, after all. "Go on."

"We haven't had many conversations that aren't work-related but I've observed him in the office. He has a great sense of humor and clearly loves to make people laugh," Regina continued, thinking of all the times she had seen him entertain his coworkers and put smiles on their faces – and hers, even if she couldn't hear what he had said.

Happiness surged through her as she continued. "When we were on our way to Hyperion-by-the-Sea, he told me about Victoria Belfrey…"

"Victoria who?" Mary Margaret said, interrupting her as she continued to gush about Robin.

"From what I can tell, a developer who doesn't care who or what she destroys in order to get what she wants," Regina replied. "I have a couple bureaus now doing quiet investigations into her as it seems she may not be entirely on the up-and-up."

"And Robin told you about her?" Mary Margaret asked, returning them back to her previous topic.

Regina grinned. "Yes. He got very passionate about it. It's clear he has a very defined sense of justice and can't stand to see people abuse power, especially if innocent people get hurt."

"Sounds like he's a great guy," Mary Margaret said. "No wonder you're smitten."

"He is a great guy," Regina said, ignoring the guilt at not mentioning how cold Robin was to her and that he seemed to believe the lies about her. Perhaps she wanted to live in the fantasy that they could work out a bit longer.

Mary Margaret sighed dreamily. "I hope this works out for you, Regina. You deserve a chance at love and happiness like the rest of us."

"I don't know if there's much hope for us," Regina said, omitting the worst as she focused on the obvious. "He's my assistant. The media would have a field day and I doubt the council would approve."

"They probably won't but they shouldn't keep controlling your life like that," Mary Margaret said. "I've told Daddy that many times."

Regina sighed. "They're my council."

"And they are only supposed to guide you on matters of policy and law," Mary Margaret argued. "Not dictate every second of your life."

"I'm the queen," Regina replied. "If it wasn't them, it would be someone or something else. Queens aren't truly free."

Mary Margaret sighed now. "Maybe but I think a modern queen could be freer than in the past."

"Maybe," Regina said. "But I wouldn't want to be a boss who goes after her employees. There's enough of a power imbalance with the fact I'm the Queen, let alone to start dating my assistant…"

She trailed off, knowing she didn't really have to explain it to Mary Margaret. "Well, do you think he is interested in you?"

"I don't know," Regina replied. "Once again, I'm his boss and we're still getting to know each other."

"Well, don't give up hope," Mary Margaret said. "Maybe it will all work out in the end."

Regina sighed before deciding to change the subject. "Well, that's all I can tell you about Robin for now. Tell me about your trip. How is everything going?"

"It's going very well," Mary Margaret replied, thankfully agreeing to the subject change. "I may be able to come home early because set up is going really smoothly and we have a great team out here."

They spoke a bit more about Mary Margaret's latest project as Regina let her eyes close, enjoying hearing her friend's voice. She always had the ability to calm Regina down and lift her spirits, no matter what was happening in her life – first as princess and now as queen.

"Anyway, I think we're going to wait and have our grand opening in the fall when people are back from vacations," Mary Margaret said. "I would like to officially invite you to come cut the ribbon."

"I officially accept," Regina replied. "Just be sure to let Tink know so she can put it on my calendar and Ashley can prepare for it."

Mary Margaret chuckled. "Will do."

She then sighed. "I have to go, Regina, but we'll talk soon. Promise."

"Good," Regina said, sad that their call had to come to an end. "Good luck with the rest of your project."

"Thank you," Mary Margaret replied. "And don't forget to call David!"

Regina chuckled. "I won't. Promise."

They ended their call and Regina set her phone down. She stood from the couch, feeling her back pop in a few places. Making a note to have a massage scheduled, she padded into her kitchen to get a snack to watch some movies for the rest of her rare evening off.

[jenyifer]

Pit Babe ep 13 initial reaction

Okay let’s do the final photo review. Okay ep 11 10 12 weren’t for me but I think 13 was good. My initial rating has to be an 8/10. A very surprising 8/10.

I was EXTREMELY upset that the racing bl that I had been looking forward to was ABO I like race car driving in general so I really was said abo was gonna happen. However this show didn’t take ABO in the creepy ways I hate mainly the sexism and homosexuality of it all. Honestly it’s straight girl’s fantasy most of the time. As a lesbian I am turned off by the sexism and breeding 🤮. But Pitbabe was interesting and bearable idk if there are subsequent seasons will lean into those tropes but I hope not. I love the actor for Babe he’s extremely talented ep13 only cemented this for me. I really enjoyed JeffAlan, PeteKenta, and NorthSonic I thought they had a good amount of side character relationships. JeffAlan felt very natural and sweet. I loved the characters of Kim and Kenta just interesting. What I didn’t like was how clownery the plot was. It was a little cheesy hokey. I think the writing didn’t do any favors for Charlie either. Charlie is very V A N I L L A I don’t think it’s the actors fault. I’ve decided it’s writing. Although I think the motivation of Tony was cartoon villain the actor really brought the evil to life I enjoyed his portrayal of a cult leader really. Anyways let’s get on to the photo review

Babe in this scene is just chef kiss if people question can bl peeps act show them this. He’s hysterical to see Charlie again. I was worried Babe would just accept Charlie back or be Angry but this is better. You can see he’s hurt but so happy Charlie is alive and with him that Babe is healed in a way. Charlie was being weird but I think it’s the writing. So beautiful in his emotions omg.

Wow… the three of them beating up winner and NorthSonic uploading the video. So cool. Really these scenes had me sitting on the edge of my seat rooting for them. ALSO WE ALL KNOW I LOVE KIM. I’m on board with Kim being a third for NorthSonic. Kim is also very fashionable. He fits in perfectly.

A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now

You’re here and that’s all I need to know

I’m glad someone died. I do find it poetic and fitting that Way died saving Babe very full circle. I didn’t hate Way as much as everyone else. He was wrong for what he did but… I feel like he had the bones and the actor to make a compelling rejected love interest. I do think babe always cared about way in a true friendship which was beautiful.

Pete and Kenta bad ass bitches getting shit done. I think Kenta might legit be Tony’s child. Like biologically. That would be a good twist. I was said we didn’t get any PeteKenta reunion in the end.

Alan and Jeff are so…

Idk they have very high chemistry. Jeff really feels like a person who hasn’t been exposed to the real world really and he’s truly trying to comfort Alan. To be fair Alan has been through a shit ton but he does feel that pain and seeks comfort in Jeff. It’s very sweet even though we get the sexy scenes for them.

Quick note is way buried at the race track or something?! Why is his grave on his own?! Way’s ghost is going to be lonely…. It’s pretty but still.

The my kid is sick and so I need to sell him trope is sadly something I’ve seen before BUT!!!! I enjoyed the Dad’s acting he seemed really torn about it and he never ever gave up.

North Sonic’s contrast pants and hyping up Kim was perfect. Kim being happy to watch Babe and Charlie is very endearing. I hope Kim and Babe can be besties who push each other. I know Kim isn’t a special alpha but I like the dynamic of him being the best human? Idk. He’s 10/10 I love him.

Idk why Babe is so shy about Charlie lol it was very cute.

ALAN AND JEFF’s BRACELETS AND SNUGGLING ONTOP OF THE CAR OMG UNDERSTATED MARRIED COUPLE THINGS

How beautiful. I really loved this show and I enjoyed the ending. I wish Pete and Kenta had been there but I found this very beautiful and meaninful. Babe and Charlie crashing Alan’s intricate date so they can be found family couples together gahhh I really loved the family aspect to the series it wasn’t super loud or overdone but you knew Babe Alan North Sonic were truly family who added in Charlie Kim Jeff.

Anyways I had fun idk what I’m watching next. I need to catch up on 23,5 or I’ll lose my lesbian card hahahaha but I am quite busy. If anyone has a suggestion for what I should start on next plzzz tell me. Other people motivate me more than myself hahaha.

[vault81]

🌈🧁✨⚡️- for the emoji oc ask, for whichever oc strikes your fancy (or all three of them? 👀)

ty so much for the ask!! you know what, I'll def do all 3 of them!!

🌈 - Do you associate any colors with them?

Jack: Well, the colour I associate with Jack is, Orange! not only because I absolutely love his neon orange hair colour. But I also just love the colour! it's warm, it's cheerful, kinda enthusiatic? all traits I heavily associate with Jack! It's a very comforting colour to me, and that's what I wanted to embody with Jack, just a warm, friendly, cosy person that would befriend an empty room (if that even makes sense lmao)

Eliza: for Eliza's colour I would say its.. a Dark Red, it just embodies so much of her character. anger, rage, willpower, courage and longing. I'd also say that it captures her love as well, not only the love for her friends and family, but for the world around her. It may be subtle, but it's there and it burns deeply.

Stephen: The colour I associate with Stephen is definitely Blue (not just for Piper's nickname for him!) but again, what it means to him as a character! It's a very melancholic colour, which sums up how Stephen feels about his post-war life, despite his flippant nature. But also it's got a coldness too it, something that Stephen is at the beginning of his journey. But that melts away into trust and peace by the end of it, so I just love how the meaning of the colour just comes full circle for Stephen's character.

🧁 - When is their birthday? How do they celebrate it, if at all?

Jack and Eliza: As twins, they share a birthday! July 13th 2258! For celebrations, they would go all out when they lived in the Vault, big celebrations surrounded by all the people they care about, well mostly. (srry Butch!) They'd be lively occasions, lots of music, laughter and games. When they've left the Vault though, I feel like their birthday's aren't that big of an occasion anymore. I think they'd become smaller, more intimate? just a small gathering of just a couple of friends having drinks together, something very casual.

Stephen: I gave Stephen the same birthday as me lmao, October 12th 2043! I also think that Stephen is the kind of person who doesn't really celebrate his birthday. He grew up quite poor so his parents couldn't really afford those big birthday celebrations, or really get him any presents. So he grew up thinking that his birthday really wasn't all that special, to him it's just a sign that he's getting older. Post-War I think this changes, much to his complaint. His friend's would def throw a surprise party for him! Again, I would say its just a casual get together with friends around a campfire maybe. Just having a few drinks, presents and enjoying another year of friendship. Maybe he even (secretly) learns to look forward to his birthday now.

✨ - Tell something that makes this oc feel happy!

Jack: to Jack what makes him happy the most is watching the Sunrise/Sunset, he just find's it peaceful and relaxing. It's time he gets to just himself, time to just shut his brain off (like its on anyway) and just bask in the moment, one day he want's to fix a camera so he can capture it. I also don't think he shares this with anyone, the only real exception is his s/o.

Eliza: for Eliza what makes her happy most is fixing things, tinkering with tech. It's satisfying to her, to learn what makes something tick, or to create something. I also think it's a subtle way of her expressing her affection for others, mention that your watch is broken? oh wow it's suddenly fixed the next day, no idea how that happened! Also just show her some Pre-War tech and she'll start vibrating internally, it took all of her willpower not to fixup the orbital death laser at Helios One.

Stephen: I'd say what makes Stephen happy the most is just being in the company of his friends, it makes him feel complete. It's comforting to him to have people who he can just truly relax with and rely on! he want's to spend as much time as possible with them! Which means his home is constantly abuzz with the coming and goings of his friends, it really just becomes their hangout spot.

⚡ - Does this oc have any unusual or “irrational” fears?

Jack: for Jack, his most unusual fear is probably rain, he never had to experience that growing up in the Vault! so when he finds out sometimes water just fucking falls from the sky randomly? nope, don't like that. especially if it's heavy rain, he's terrified, he hate's how loud it is as well, which makes storms a very shitty experience for him. He's working hard on overcoming this fear though!

Eliza: her most unusual fear is probably space, which sucks considering she got abducted by aliens. Just her first night out the Vault, looking up and seeing the millions of stars in the sky? part of her was awed by that beauty, but another was deeply unsettled by it. I think the main thing that throws her off is just the scale of it all, it messes with her brain and she does Not Like That.

Stephen: I'd say his unusual fear is probably the Cold. He'd probably develop this fear after being in Vault 111's Cryopods, just constantly being thrust back to one of the most traumatic times in his life, of just being completely and utterly out of control of his situation.

[adiarosefandoms]

2 Broke Girls Review

I heard of 2 Broke Girls after seeing a random cameo made by Kat Dennings in Sex and the City (I recognized her as Darcy in the MCU), and immediately set out to find a place to watch it. I found with a regular subscription to Amazon Prime, I could watch 3/4 of a season which would progress each Friday, adding new episodes and taking the old ones away. I immediately loved the show because Denning’s character Max is everything I like in a tv lead. Sassy, dark, funny, and capable. The farther we got along in the show the more I loved it, mostly because of Max and Caroline’s relationship and how these girls never got jealous of one another, which seems like a common plot whenever multiple female characters grace the screen. But the two despite their obvious differences loved each other so completely in one of the best on-screen female friendships I’ve ever seen. By the end I was completely in love. I liked that Max and Caroline’s first go at the cupcake shop was an overshot and ended up failing. I liked that in the end they got the shop placed next to the diner so they’d never part with it, and they adapted it as the world adapted to take on more than one thing (alcohol and cupcakes, which is the embodiment of Max and Caroline). I also really enjoyed the LA storyline because often when characters are out of their natural setting for more than two episodes, the story gets more and more odious. But I really liked the movie concept, and I adored Robbie. He was far the best love interest Max had ever had, and she had some solid ones. Namely the bartender and the dude who lived in the dumpster. (Can’t remember their names right now). We ended the show with Robbie coming back in a perfect moment and proposing to Max. Usually I find the proposal episode to be pretty cheesy (except the Monica and Chandler episode of Friends), but this was just amazing. I didn’t think it would happen and I was so happy in the end. Caroline’s movie had come out, and she met a nice, interesting guy she had immediate chemistry with. One of my favorite moments of the show is a little joke in the final episode was when Max made a joke about how her wish came true because she and Caroline don’t have to die together now, but then Robbie said, “You can die with us”, and that is why I like the relationships on the show. Never were guys pushy or annoyed with either girl’s friend. They adored them, and this line just made me fall completely for Robbie. But as the episode was nearing its end, I knew the show had been canceled. With only two minutes to go we find out that Bobby (Carolines boyfriend) and Randy had met before and loathe each other. We end the show with the two brawling outside the cupcake window with the girls infront. If they had just cut that last scene and made the boys shake hands, we could’ve ended the show perfectly. But originally a seventh season was in mind, so they didn’t do this and the show was canceled leaving us oh so satisfied in all ways, but one. Overall, I recommend the show because I really do adore it and will definitely rewatch it, but by just cutting out the final two minutes we could’ve had the perfect resolution to a six-season long show with the girls having good relationships and their cupcake shops, but still working at the diner with a zero-dollar account balance to bring it full circle. Nevertheless, I looked forward to new episodes every Friday and would give it a 9.5/10. I was never once bored watching it.

[kakahut]

Death and Living.

I haven't written anything here for quite a long time. I didn't even remeber what I have written last time.

Life is confusing and had so much up and downs.

i can't believe I am 35, living a quite hipster life with no children, no man and a single apartment with limited savings. 2023 was tough, and 2024 is even worse, I sort of giving up the idea of looking for a full time position but do some projects on my own. Now, I have a company.

I was lucky that I always have friends who can be there for me. I really appreciate Vincent's support during the worst moment of my life and I never expectd to have a friendship like that after my 30s.

I am not happy happy, but I enjoy my life most of time and I know I am quite lucky. I honestly have very limited time thinking about men or dating as I really enjoy being around just with friends. Dating for me is draining, especially after what happened with Rob last September, I realized that my old habits die hard, my obession with "broken men" won't disappear in one day. I know I don't want them near my life anymore and I still don't know how to connect with the normal ones ( are there any out there anyway? lol) I am really more peaceful and happy to be with myself, my friends, my cats and my family.

A recent incident dragged me into old memories, Tommy died in a motocycle accident and I was the first to know in our circle. I was in shock and I almost forgot who he is and what happened between us unitl this message. All the memories I had about him starting to flow around in my head recently as I am trying to see if I can find any trace that I can feel sad.

Honestly, I don't feel a thing, for a moment, I feel he deserved it. It's his karma. Then I critisized myself of being mean as we did have good moments but then the horrible memory came back, the night he dragged me into the backdoor of a stairway trying to prevent me from telling the other girl about the entanglement we were having, the horror I felt he might hurt me eventually. The anger, the monster I was turning into after being peaceful for many years startled me. I knew I deserve better than that.

I cut off this circle immediately, I also cut off my friendship with Will because I know these are no longer good to me anymore .

I didn't realize it could be that easy as I was also feeling head to toe for a while. He was my muse, and some of his quality reminded me of Min ( they actually are very different people ) really sparkled my creativity and I felt sad that day I saw his true color because I felt I might not be able to create more work. Funny the reality was I made more work during my healing period at Vincent's apartment, I no longer draw feelings about men, I got inspiration from everything, from nature, from the understanding of myself.

I think the message of Tommy's death is a sign the universe is sending me. I knew one more piece should be made to put an end to a story, a story about illusion and expectation, a story of me chasing some shadows from the only relationship I cared in my life, I call it the PTSD of a young love syndrome.

That night, I had a dream about Min, after all these years, it was so vivid as if the past years never happened, we were still in that apartment on 1500 Walnut street, cooking and talking, felt so familar, just like old friends. He said to me " I wrote a review of each letters you sent to me" and I laughed and said " It's so you and I know you are the only person I know would do that." I woke up, looked around and knew I am back to my reality, no Min, no Philly, no Tommy, just my 2 cats cuddling next to me purring.

Life is an illusion overall, I just jumped from one to another, the bounary between reality and fantasy is always so blurry. Reading Buddhist texts are the best practise I did this year to go through hard times, it makes me more calm and stable. I have been so obssesed with the idea of love, the wanting of acceptance that I have neglected in this process, I should also be cared for.

To Tommy: I will foget you again but I will not forgive you even you were dead, you don't deserve it and you still don't deserve it.

Vincent always says that I should stop my obsession with my ex and move on and he is a bit tired of hearing my story always circling back to the same guy. I freaked out a bit when last week he mentioned his college roomate was a Korean guy from Michigan. It took me a week to ask what his name was, and he laughed and said, "I don't think you would have dated my roomate, Carol. He was a very quiet guy and he is married and have 2 children now."

All of a sudden, I felt a bit embarrased. When most of your friends are settled and focus on raising their children and in your head you were still thinking about a past illusion, I feel I was not improved and upgraded to a better version, as if I was stuck in the save level of a game over and over again. His words reminded me I should not be dragged back to past just because I enjoy the comfort it provides. 不要贪恋过去，这样我会感知不到现在，也就无法创造未来。

I rethink the idea of love. I belived even we were apart, my love should not die and if it fades away, then it is not true love. Now I was wondering, I am just enjoy the idea of it too much and the "love" didn't grow at all it was packed in an old box, it's a vintage. Most connection flows and nothing really last forever, things only can last if we put constant effort into it.

i have maintained this light connection for years because I really dont want the forget that version of myself, however, he is no longer who he was , neither am I , so this love has changed over time by itself.

I really wish Min can be happy, I might be jealous that he is happier than me now, but eventually, I deeply wish the best for him as he deserves good and healthy connection just like what I deserve.

So it's time to stay afar, wishing the best for him instead constantly remind him and myself of the past.

I don't know if I still "love" Min ( I want to love myself more first) , but I wish all the best because I really really really really care about you, and this won't die.

I really really really really really loved you with every breath I had and I tried to give you everyting I had to fullfill your void, and I would never do that for anyone else becasue it is not healthy. However, I can't deny it is romantic, innocent, and vivd that it is so beautiful. It is such a beautiful story.

So 2024, I will stop.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Look to the stars, see how they shine only for you

At long last the McMann and Clanwing twins are together at the camp! It’s interesting how similar their lives in terms of their families are as they’re both heirs of important figures and often get compared to each other. I guess it’s kinda like two sides of the same coin sorta thing.

I know that the four of them have known each other since forever and share a lot of mutual friends like me, Daisy Jane, and Shara to name a few. Strangely though, the three of us have never hung out with all four at once, which kinda sums up adult friendships to be honest. Out of all the places for a hangout like this, I’m glad it’s at the camp.

For the four of them, it’s the first time they all hung out together in person in a couple years. Basically, they all sorta stepped away from the shadows of their famous relatives around the same time. Rocky was first when he and Lex started a family, which then prompted Chrissie to leave Cityburg and move to Camellia. Then Dello and Donna stood up against their uncle, moved out with their kids, and started Ocean Winds.

And there’s Shara, who’s also slowly cutting ties with her own family, so she’s enjoying her newfound independence too. Her journey’s been a mixed bag full of ups and downs but she’s glad that she’s standing her ground. She basically went from trying to heal from the past to putting her foot down against those who pretty much would rather have her dead when they realized that they could no longer push her around.

The three situations are similar in terms of no longer letting themselves be trapped by someone else’s - often unrealistic - expectations, but it’s kinda like a spectrum based on their relationships with those who they’re trying to separate themselves from.

There’s Rocky and Chrissie on one end, the best possible result and likely common outcome. For them, things just kinda happened so them drifting away from their uncle was natural - they have their lives and he has his, nothing to it. They’re still on good terms with their uncle - even better now that they’re not constantly at each others’s throats - so everything’s good.

Dello and Donna had a bit of a rough start as there was - and still - is a rift in the family. At least now they reassured us that they’re slowly working things out with the patriarch. Things are still far from ideal but they are on speaking terms so hopefully it’ll get better from here on out. If not, then that’s a shame, but at least they could say that they tried their best - and that applies to both sides.

Meanwhile Shara’s on the opposite end - hopefully a rare situation. I still find it hard to believe that she’s related to those people so I support her completely cutting ties with them. She’s been through a lot of shit and that leaves scars, stuff that no matter how well things turn out in the future, will still always fuck with you. She’s accepted that and is constantly working on towards bettering herself, to avoid contributing to the vicious cycle of abuse she grew up with - and that’s not easy, so all the more reason to respect her.

There’s a lot to unpack with her family, most she’s accepted that she’ll never come to peace with. The hardest thing for her is her deteriorating relationship with Tanner, though his latest actions have made it a little easier for her to distance herself from him. He’s not really in my circle anymore - he had always been an acquaintance to me - but he used to be good friends with the other four, mainly Chrissie, though not anymore for various reasons.

A couple months ago Shara and a couple other witches put up a fundraiser for a project that ended up not coming to fruition for a variety of reasons. One of them was failure to meet the deadline, which was the main issue and Shara was transparent about that as she later admitted that the project was a bit too ambitious in hindsight.

Tanner heard about that and used it as an opportunity to attack Shara. Not only he called her an incompetent failure, he also made a remark about how her friends will drop her for being unreliable. I don’t know what’s up with him trying to isolate Shara by trying to cut her off or pit her against her friends under the guise of “it’s what’s best for her”, like I’m pretty sure that’s a red flag. To make matters worse, if he pulled that shit like 10 years ago, he would’ve succeeded. Had that happened back then - and I’m being serious - Shara would be long dead by now.

Also the fact that he admits to dropping friends like it’s nothing for not meeting his expectations is very telling in my opinion. Then he acts baffled when people criticized him for acting like it’s normal to stop being friends with someone just because you found someone better. He just comes across as one of those people who judges others based on their status and how “useful” they are to him.

When people jumped to Shara’s defense, he tried to justify his own shitty actions, and that prompted former colleagues and friends to expose him. It’s honestly sad to find out how many people had bad experiences with Tanner - I mean I had a feeling but I didn’t know it was that bad. Honestly fuck those who think it’s okay to exploit others for their own selfish motives.

Then things really blew up when Rocky came to Shara’s defense. I don’t know too much about Rocky’s past with Tanner as he was more Chrissie’s friend than his, but they used to hang out often back in the day. Rocky said they kinda drifted apart after Chrissie’s return and him almost getting killed. He didn’t realize it until recently that him being disabled after that incident had something to do with that until Tanner attacked him.

Basically his response to Rocky - who remained civil the whole time - was that Shara wasn’t gonna fuck him, which is such a stupid fucking response in my opinion. Rocky responded that he’s married with kids so he doesn’t know what he’s trying accomplish by saying something like that. Then Tanner went off on how Rocky was abusive for getting Lex pregnant because it’s ironic that a personal fitness trainer would get with someone who can’t walk without a cane. What the fuck. Of course, Chrissie went after him for talking shit about her brother like that, and Lex had some things to say too.

Shara and Rocky believe that the reason why Tanner went specifically after Rocky was because they went through similar circumstances. Both disappeared for a time and were held hostage, then they survived a near death experience that they never fully recovered from and probably never will. In Shara’s case she did regain the ability to walk without the need of mobility aids but that doesn’t change the fact that she still is very much disabled, something that her ex-family can’t seem to understand.

In all honesty, Shara thinks that her family believes that Poe should’ve succeeded in killing her back then. When she was recovering the sentiment they had was pretty much they’d rather have her dead than an invalid. And when she did recover and began taking on life differently, that didn’t stop them from belittling everything she did. She later revealed to us that when she graduated from Midnight - something her parents didn’t think she could accomplish - they brushed her off. And not only that, the rest of her family made jokes about how Midnight couldn’t be that hard or their standards were so low because Shara made it. That’s just fucking insulting.

Around the same time Rocky and Tanner drifted, Chrissie started hanging out with him more. Then she moved to Camellia where Tanner lived for a short while and they got along most of the time, like she considered him a friend but not a close one by far. When moved they pretty much stopped talking to each other and that was it. Truth was she didn’t really think much of him until he began talking shit about Shara, who she’s always been close with, and Chrissie’s not one to stand by while someone bullies her friends.

As for Dello and Donna, they weren’t that close to Tanner either as he was more their uncle’s friend, though not anymore it seems. Apparently he had always been somewhat dismissive of Dello’s music and made some unflattering comments about Ocean Winds when they became big. Donna said she always had a feeling that Tanner looked down on her, probably because he considers someone like her as inferior. She also said that Tally and a couple of his friends worked with him a while back and they found him kinda rude and stuck up. As far as she and Dello know, he never really seemed to acknowledge the kids when he visited the manor.

For Shara, that online spat proved to be the last straw for her - and she means it. Even though she hated how much attention it got - Rocky felt bad for kinda contributing to that but Shara reassured him that he had no way of knowing that it would blow up like that - she’s also kinda glad that people can see Tanner’s true colors. Dello heard that in the past year some people were calling Tanner out on his behavior but most of it went unnoticed for whatever reason despite the fact that there was proof.

At least now with this blowing up pretty much everywhere - I mean, I try to stay away from most online discourse whenever I can, word can still get out, not to mention that he was the one who hijacked things - there’s undeniable proof as to what kind of person he is. Plus, an unexpected side effect of this getting out so quickly is that he didn’t have time to cover his tracks, not with everyone he argued with taking screenshots and stuff. From what we’ve been hearing, a good number of his former friends and colleagues are denouncing his behavior. Some are even opening up about the underhanded and manipulative shit he pulled on them.

The whole thing has been a lot for Shara, so she’s taking a break from social media and focusing on self care. She said that she’s also on some new meds and they seem to be helping a lot. Normally she said that something like this would set her back badly but right now after everything’s died down she’s feeling okay. Her moods in general has been more stabilized since her meds were changed so that’s good to hear. And now that’s she’s finally made peace knowing that she’ll never be accepted by those who refuse to see or treat her as a person, life doesn’t seem as thankless anymore.

Right now she’s been hanging with Chrissie and they, along with Rocky, Lex, and the girls, went to catch one of Ocean Winds’s concerts at the tail end of their tour. Then Shara and Chrissie spent some time in Cityburg where the five of them caught up with each other before heading to camp. After that, Shara and Chrissie plan to visit a few places to meet up with other friends before heading back to Camellia.

Since them coming to the camp wasn’t really planned out, I didn’t have any event planned, which is fine with everyone. Truth is, I haven’t been at the camp a lot this past month since I’ve been traveling a lot, so that’s why we’re a bit slow on the events. That’s not to say that we don’t have plans for any, we do but they’re not really a big priority at the moment. In other words, I can’t really give a calendar because I really have no idea what the next month will be like.

It may be a bit early to think about spring but I’ve got some stuff in storage that’s been sitting there forever. I already did a lot of cleaning so the only stuff that’s left are things that I want to put to good use. One idea is patio furniture, a swing being the main piece. So we got to work on building that. I have other ideas but I wasn’t too sure if we have enough for more.

With the seven of us working together, we managed to build a porch swing in three days. Pretty impressive, I’d say! After painting it and letting that dry, the swing was ready to go. Unfortunately since it’s not spring yet we haven’t really had a chance to try it out. I mean, we did inside to make sure everything was in working order, but that was about it. At least we have it ready for when the weather finally warms up.

The last couple nights haven’t been too cold so we were able to build a bonfire in the evening to enjoy for a short time. Dello and Rocky took their guitars with them as they were hoping for a couple campfire songs. They could only manage to do a couple songs as it’s still cold but they were fun! After that it’s back to the cabin where we spend the rest of the night.

Unfortunately it’s been raining all day so we’ve been inside, usually by the fireplace. I think it’s fitting after spending the past couple days with the swing. Luckily we have enough leftover materials to build a small table so that’s our next project.

Even with the stormy weather, the night sky has been super starry. No matter how long I’ve lived here, I never ceased to be amazed by the starry skies.

Yesterday we were stargazing when Chrissie brought up a story from when she was stranded in space. I was surprised to hear her talk about it as that’s a part of her life she doesn’t really like to go into too much detail about. After all, she spent 10 years of her life stranded and mostly alone until Eclipse found her. And the events that followed when she finally returned - Rocky going missing, Eclipse and the family banding together to prevent a war, Chrissie killing the general after he almost killed Rocky - there’s a lot to unpack.

Over the years Chrissie and Rocky have made peace with what happened in the past. Chrissie adjusted to life back on earth while Rocky went through intense physical therapy to learn how to walk again. Then Rocky got back together with Lex and they had Talia, followed by Kessa a few years later, and that was when he said they were finally able to move on.

A while back we had joked that Rocky and Lex should hurry up and tie the knot before another new member joins the family. Little did we know that we predicted the future. The couple got married after they found out that Baby Boy Boba - that’s what they’re calling him - will be arriving in the summer. Ideally they would’ve wanted something bigger and more formal - similar to Dello and Louise’s wedding - but they didn’t have the time, especially with such a short window. So it was just immediate family - Chrissie, McMann, Lex’s parents, and the girls - and a little ceremony. Not a lot of fanfare, which is how they prefer it anyway. And that’s how they started off the new year.

Funny enough, the arrival of a third kid was what prompted Dello and Louise to finally get married too. As for why both couples put off getting married for so long, I get why they chose to do that and I feel like they made the logical choice. Having kids wasn’t initially part of the plan so even though they’ve been together for a while, raising a family is a huge commitment. If things work out, then that’s good, but if they don’t, then there’s no point in forcing it. At least for both couples, things end up working out better than they imagined, so that’s good.

As for Chrissie’s story, she talked about something Eclipse told her about the stars that stuck with her. It’s about how people look at stars differently - to some they are mesmerizing and to others it’s nothing much. At the time Chrissie was struggling with fixing her ship and dealing with a lot of unexpected setbacks that were getting to her. Eclipse, who had been cold to her before, somehow decided to give her some words of encouragement.

What she said was, “Look to the stars, see how they only shine for you.” Obviously Chrissie didn’t know what she was talking about at first so Eclipse had to elaborate. A late mentor said that to her long ago when she was going through a rough time. Life is like a starry night sky, changing and unchanging at the same time.

Some nights the stars shine brightly, sometimes it’s just pitch black. But no matter how bright or dark it gets, the stars are still there. To move forward is to reach for the stars. Even when it seems like you’re going nowhere, you’re still moving towards something whether you like it or not. No matter where you go, no matter how uncertain things are, the stars are always there to guide you.

I think that’s a nice way of putting things. Often times I feel like I’m wandering in the dark, uncertain of pretty much everything. I think it’s natural to feel lost from time to time, but sometimes I wonder if it’s normal to feel like that most of the time. But it’s reassuring to know that no matter how lost or off track you get, it’s not the end of the world for you, not as long as the stars are still there to guide you.

I’ll keep that in mind when I feel uncertain. Just because it’s not obvious for you it doesn’t mean that you aren’t getting there, wherever “there” is.

Read on AO3

[luveline]

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

[bejaeyoung]

it's obvious the moment realization dawns upon siwoo—blinking in sheer confusion, and then out of some sort of panic. it's amusing to jay, he always enjoyed the sight of siwoo in a state of a frantic mess, words broken up into incoherent chunks that even jay has trouble stringing together. it's a sight jay knows siwoo doesn't let anyone see—or, maybe, in jay's hidden and selfish thoughts, he thinks it's something only jay can pull out of siwoo. is that greedy of him to believe? maybe. is it possible? yes, it is.

with siwoo breaking down once again in front of jay, it's hard not to laugh. this isn't the first time siwoo had asked. siwoo had alluded to being more once before, after a day out; a date that jay had found out was a date after the fact. strolling through their old classrooms in their highschool uniforms, spending an entire day together. it ends in siwoo's car, like it often does, where siwoo revealed it had been part of an elaborate plan; one that jay ends up ruining, albeit indirectly.

jay never rejected the notion of becoming siwoo's boyfriend, the conversation simply headed in another direction. the two of them agreed that the term doesn't fully encapsulate what they are, whatever they are. and jay was fine with that, had no qualms with being one another's.

( "everyone i've ever dated, i broke up with. i don't really — no, haha i really don't want to fucking lose you. so, boyfriend doesn't feel like enough hahaha."

"we can just be us." )

that's where it ended, to jay's knowledge, siwoo had never brought it up again—until now, that is. with his face flushed, ears painted with red, the word boyfriend slipped out of siwoo as if it was natural. siwoo is the one rubbing circles into jay's waist, a soothing gesture that's more than familiar, even before they uncovered and peeled off the layers of their friendship hiding something convoluted but full of intense emotions they couldn't name. it's ironic, because siwoo is the one who seems to need the comfort more than jay does.

"you had a plan?" jay teases, remembering siwoo's previous failed attempt at a plan, recalling how siwoo folded in on himself so easily. he laughs again, playing with the ends of siwoo's hair from behind, wondering just how much of jay siwoo thinks of on a daily basis—how often had siwoo called jay his boyfriend, without telling him? that's always been siwoo's problem, thinking and pondering but not sharing any of his thoughts with jay verbally.

"your boyfriend," jay repeats, pressing a kiss to siwoo's forehead as another laugh escapes him. siwoo looks utterly ridiculous, he's sure this isn't how siwoo normally asks someone to be his. he knows siwoo's patterns best, even when it comes to things jay would rather turn a blind eye to, for his own sake. is it wrong of him to think of himself as special? as different than everyone else? jay had suffered the most under siwoo's hand, the longest, he'd stayed through everything siwoo decided to throw at him, whether on purpose or not. came out of it with deep scars and wounds that will take years to heal, if not a lifetime. is it okay for jay to believe he deserves this?

he hums, as if he has to think about it. even though they've promised themselves to one another countless times before, even though jay had gone straight to siwoo's family claiming that they'd be a pair for all of eternity, tied together by a sacred vow in the future. the answer is obvious, he knows siwoo's aware of this too, in the back of his mind. but jay also knows siwoo is a pessimist—he needs the validation, the outright confirmation from jay; siwoo's kind of hypocritical in that way too. so, forgive him for stringing siwoo along for a little while; jay has every right to.

"why would i say no?" he starts with that, knowing siwoo would be pleading for more. he's smiling, wide, his chest feels like it's swelling. he's giddy, he can't contain the beaming smile that he's showing—still, he revels in the moment, allowing it to shimmer for a bit longer. he can't deny it, he does enjoy keeping siwoo guessing, riling the other up until he explodes into a pitiful disaster.

jay kisses siwoo once more, on his lips this time—he lingers for a prolonged second, before he delivers his true answer. "yeah, i do," his voice is soft, like this is a promise between just the two of them. "i wanna be your boyfriend, so make me one already!" he exclaims, louder this time, to really drive the concept into siwoo's skull, let him marvel over it too.

then, another kiss—followed by a small giggle; is it possible to feel this happy? "that's our first kiss as boyfriends, by the way." he swipes a thumb against the corner of siwoo's lips, rubbing the tip of siwoo's red ears with his other hand. "that's quite the face, ryu siwoo," he whispers, teasing affectionately, stroking siwoo's cheek.

jay climbs onto his lap, like he always does, and siwoo snakes his hand around jay's waist, pulling the boy closer to him. he doesn't quite realize what's going on, tilting his head to the side as he rubs circles around jay's waist with his thumb. it's comfortable like this, natural almost.

it isn't as though he's unaccustomed with jay seated on his lap, they've done this before – many times, siwoo had always enjoyed the feeling of jay so close to him like this; had even stupidly thought of this act as platonic years ago ( though he knew now that it wasn't – that he had tried his hardest to fool himself ).

he doesn't quite understand what jay is alluding to, simply blinking up at his boyfriend – oh. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

"fuck," he says out loud, realization hitting him. again, his brain feels like it might short circuit. it feels like it's going on overdrive – and yet jay is smiling, wide, and kissing the side of his head like he knows. like he knows the effect that he has on siwoo, the way the cogs in his head are slowly turning, processing every little bit of information in real time.

fuck.

he'd called jay his boyfriend. out loud.

he blinks again. "i wasn't – fuck," siwoo begins, and he feels the tips of his ears heat up. he doesn't blush easy, siwoo always so careful to put on a facade in front of others, but with jay his walls are thin, and he isn't quite able to control the reactions that come out of him. this whole situation too is... for a lack of better word, fucking embarrassing. "this wasn't how i was going to ask you," he confesses, and he's suddenly acutely aware of how red his face must be.

shit. he hides his face in jay's chest, pulling jay closer. "fuuuuck," he groans, how uncool of him. how fucking uncool of him. but he's already said it, and jay is laughing, jay is teasing him, and it's not fucking fair how cute he is whilst doing it. fuck, siwoo loves jay. he really does. and he doesn't want to waste anymore time, even if this hadn't been his plan. even if none of this had gone according to plan.

but nothing ever goes according to plan with jay, and siwoo should've long accepted this – yet that was exactly why he loved jay so much, because he could never quite gauge what his heart would do. fuck it, siwoo thinks, fuck it.

"my boyfriend," siwoo says after a moment, lifting his face up from jay's chest. it's still red, but he doesn't quite care. his mind is going on overdrive, he wants jay, he wants to be with jay. he wants to be jay's first boyfriend, and he wants jay to be his.

"of course that's what i want you to be," he says, and his fingers continue rubbing against jay's waist. "do you want to be my boyfriend, jay?" he smiles, a little giddy this time – eyes pouring affection for jay, like they always do. "will you be my boyfriend?" he finally asks, his chest clenching as he tilts his head upwards, just slightly to look at jay. he thinks if he pulls him any closer, jay might be able to feel his heart thumping loud against his chest with his own, but he probably doesn't have to. jay knows him – jay knows him better than anyone. and jay is the only person allowed to see siwoo like this, raw and honest – a fumbling mess. jay is the only person siwoo wants to be with, and he's certain of that.

[prismaticpichu]

Since you're doing Zack headcanons, what's your take on his relationship with Genesis? Genesis is such a little stinker that I love seeing different perspectives on him. And I love the way you write Zack so it would be interesting to hear!

Ahhhhh Genesis! The guy everyone wants to kick right in the biblical shins. For all his stinkerness is worth, though, I think he’s definitely got some goodness in there- and all thanks to you and those beautiful fics of yours sparking my interest in him!!

Zack and Genesis’s first encounter was shortly after Zack was taken under Angeal’s wi—I mean, er, adopted by Angeal! We’re only shown Sephiroth as being an influential part of ShinRa, but I’ve always imagined that Angeal—and by extent, Genesis—had some serious spotlight too. They’re First Classes after all! The best of the best! (Sure, Zack may have saw Sephiroth on the papers and tv and cereal boxes, but he still had a bit of butterflies when Angeal first brought him to his apartment.)

One minute in, annnnnnnd butterflies gone! Boom. Caught in a net and burned away. Wow oh wow oh WOW!! It was COMMANDER RHAPSADOS AND GENERAL SEPHIROTH! Oh myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

Genesis, sitting there on Angeal’s couch, is mortified. Eyes twitching. Lips a thin line.

You gotta be SHIVING him, Angeal. Did you at least get him shot for rabies? And influenza? Did you at least wipe his feet?

Surprise, surprise, Genesis isn’t so keen on Zack joining his friendship circle. Angeal is absolutely mother-Chocobo for his little student and even Sephiroth seems to enjoy his presence. Has the world gone MAD?!

For all Genesis is though, he’s not a bully. His feelings towards Zack never extend beyond impatience and just… annoyance. Why is the new puppy getting all the attention? Why is Angeal, who’s been his bestest friend since they were 3yos, whose dreams they shared and whose path he followed, spending more time with Zack than him? It—it isn’t fair! (Genesis kicks himself for that pun.)

Halftime! Let’s switch sides of the court. Zack is a natural puppy and wants to be pals with everyone. But that doesn’t mean he necessarily gets along with all living matter on earth. Genesis and Zack’s personalities majorly clash—and I’m not even talking “opposites attract” kinda thing. I’m talking God has shut off the magnetic field. Genesis was stiff and smug and was always rolling his eyes at him :( Like seriously!! All he did was ask for seconds of ‘Geal’s mac and cheese and Genesis scoffed. What did he do???

They develop a very “grouchy siblings fighting over mom’s front seat” kind of relationship. Angeal is constantly tearing apart petty little grapples between the two, and then poor Sephiroth gets roped into the lecture too because he’s being a “bystander” and yadyaydya Angeal’s ted talk.

But, alas, leave two stubborn animals in the same room long enough and they’re bound to work things out (or tear each other to shreds, whatever comes first). Genesis begins to take notice of Zack’s impressive swordsmanship—of course it’s courtesy of Angeal’s guidance, but still. The whelp is… not bad. He finds himself watching training sessions between the two, admiring how he almost always managed to actually land a hit on Angeal. (Not that he is any match for Sephiroth—if he couldn’t beat him neither could the puppy. Now that would be unfair.)

Come the day when Zack is promoted to Second Class, Genesis volunteers his time to go to Angeal’s apartment and celebrate. He even took the time to get a little gift—how sweet is he?? :3c C’mon, really. Tell him!

More weeks go by, and Zack’s presence doesn’t feel so asphyxiating anymore. He would dare to call it natural, but Genesis knows that isn’t the full truth. Zack is merely fading into the background as other, more… potent emotions are stirring. Sephiroth’s fame is snowballing and his is falling behind. It’s as if the more effort he put into training, the less it paid off. The less it mattered.

He would show Sephiroth—and Angeal. Just ONE more spar to prove himself. He knew he could.

When Genesis vanishes, Zack feels it. Maybe a little less severe than Angeal’s lack of energy or Sephiroth’s lack of appetite, but he feels it. Seeing those Genesis clones on the ground, and then the real thing, all winged and twisted… No. No. It was all wrong.

“You’re not the Genesis I once knew!”

His words echo far into the sky, where Genesis had already been swallowed.

And so he proceeds to bond with Sephiroth instead <3 <3 It’s a very adorable, healthy friendship and they love each other very much. There is no amount of jealously or genetic revelation that can ever tear them apart <3

[bakumu-archive]

to capture a star

rich!Daichi x fem!reader

wc: 13k

summary: when daichi asks you to go with him to his family’s cabin during spring break, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by a giant mansion. Will the money and social life scare you away or will you be able to find love with daichi, despite being thrown into a world of fast cars and expensive clothing?

cw: rich people, SMUT (daddy, praise, biting, feral daichi, unprotected sex, creampie), pining, racing, one punch, blood (from the punch), alcohol, insecurity, mild jealousy, possessive daichi, side kiyoko x tanaka, probably ooc

a/n: this is for the rich boy collab hosted by @bakugohoex​! be sure to check out all the other submissions! you can find the link to the masterlist here

terushima is an asshole in this and i'm sorry, i love him but i needed a captain to be sleazy and he volunteered. he told me he couldn't resist hitting on a cutie like you, and who am i to stop him.

check out the mood boards i made here and shout out to my beautiful beta reader @winniethepoohloathesyou​ for working so hard on this with me!

minors do not interact. this work contains mature themes and if you continue reading you have agreed you are willing to see such content

When Daichi sat down next to you in your econ class last week and asked you to come to his family cabin during spring break, this is not what you imagined. 

You thought that you would be able to spend some time alone with him, enjoying nature together in a small house nestled in the forest, spending enough time together to finally put a label on whatever the spark was between the two of you.

But no.

You blink rapidly and take a good look at your new surroundings, trying to make sense of what your eyes see. Before you stands the largest house you have ever seen. But just calling it a house would be an extreme understatement. 

This place is a mansion. Three stories of white brick detailed with elaborate stone embellishments. The gray mansard roof’s steep slope meets at the top with a fenced stone parapet. An elaborate garden extends between you and the house and you swear you can see an Olympic-sized swimming pool nestled into the courtyard. And this isn't even the front of the house. You blink in disbelief when you spot a giant race track off to your left and what looks like a massive, ten-car garage. The scent of sea air assaults your senses and when your gaze flickers to your right, you can see the ocean and the mansion's very own harbor. 

And none of that even includes how you got here: on a private jet, landing on a personal runway where you currently stand. 

The beat-up duffle bag you use for your family’s camping trips that hangs from your shoulder suddenly feels very wrong in a way you can't explain.

You turn to face Daichi as he joins you on the tarmac. “Daichi, this is your family cabin?” you ask wide-eyed, your voice sounding so high-pitched that you barely recognize it. 

He rubs the back of his neck, one of his nervous habits. “Yeah, it's kind of embarrassing. I used to spend all of my summers here with my siblings but now the house barely gets used,” he says sheepishly.

Before you can ask any more questions, the loud rumbling of car engines interrupts your conversation and you see two sports cars taking two corners on the track before barreling down the straight of the runway towards you at top speed. 

“Ah, those two are here already, I see,” Daichi grins. He takes your duffle bag from you, throwing the strap over his shoulder and pulling you closer to him while wrapping his arm around your waist. 

The cars roar to a stop right behind the jet, creating the perfect image, an Instagram influencer’s wet dream. 

Daichi leans over to whisper in your ear as they both get out of the cars, “The one in the red Ferrari LaFerrari is Kuroo Tetsuro and the one in the white Lamborghini Aventador is Bokuto Kotaro.”

The two are pointing fingers at each other as they get out of their cars bickering and you can see the wealth dripping off them. The man with the spiky black hair, that Daichi told you was Kuroo, is pointing back in the direction they came from as he closes his car door, while Bokuto, with his spiky gray hair, pouts, throwing his hands up in mock innocence. Both of them grab a bag from the trunks of their cars, still arguing with each other before Kuroo places his arm around Bokuto in a show of faux peace before they start walking towards you and Daichi.

“They're both idiots,” he pauses to watch Bokuto swat at Kuroo’s arm, “but they are actually really good guys.”

The two of them are still heated, poking at each other's chests as they reach you and Daichi, only stopping when he coughs to grab their attention.

“Are you two done yet?” he questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Daichi, I was faster, wasn't I?” whined Bokuto, giving Daichi and you a small pout as Kuroo pats his shoulder, leaning slightly closer to you.

“This must be Y/N. She’s cuter than you said Dai,” Kuroo says with a laugh.

You miss the way that Daichi’s cheeks start to turn pink because you were so taken aback at his statement. Daichi told his friends about you? His apparently super rich friends?

Daichi’s grip around your waist tightens slightly before he responds, “Guys this is Y/N L/N. Please, don't annoy her too much.”

Both of their heads perk up at that.

“Oh yeah Daichi, we will be perfect saints,” Kuroo smirks.

Bokuto matches Kuroo’s playfully devious look, suddenly over his apparent loss on the track. “Oh yeah, nothing but angels.”

Before Daichi has time to wipe the smiles off their faces, you hear the sound of helicopter blades whirring above.

You look around until you see it fly directly overhead. The sound fills the air as the helicopter starts its descent onto the helipad next to the parked jet.

The helicopter blades whip up the grass and plants all around, and you have to place your hand on your head to prevent your own hair from being messed up by the whirlwind. 

You look over to Bokuto and Kuroo to see them fiercely trying to protect their hair spikes from the wind and failing. Daichi follows your gaze and when he sees them, he lets out a laugh in full force.

The helicopter makes a soft landing and the blades slow down when the engine turns off and two people step out. 

The most beautiful girl you have ever seen in your life hops out from the operator's seat, throwing her gorgeous black hair over her shoulder as she walks over to the man holding his hand out for her, hoisting their designer bags over his shoulder.

“Kiyoko, Tanaka, I'm so glad that you guys could make it,” Daichi smiles at the couple as they approach.

Daichi lets go of your waist so he can give the two of them a proper hug, before introducing you.

“This is Y/N.”

Kiyoko walks up to you and grabs your hands in hers and smiles at you, “Finally another girl. It's about time.”

Tanaka laughs, “What, babe? Are you getting tired of us?”

She lets go of your hands so she can give Tanaka a playful slap to the chest, “You know that's not what I meant, Ryu. It'll be nice to have someone to get ready for the gala with!”

You feel Daichi slightly flinch next to you at the mention of a gala.

Your brows furrow as you ask, “A what now? Daichi never mentioned anything about a gala.”

You turn to him, questioningly, and he moves his hand to the back of his neck for the second time in ten minutes. 

“It's nothing really, just this huge party my family has hosted for years. We really wouldn't even have to go if you don't want to…” the last few words trail off before he is interrupted by Kiyoko.

“What are you saying Daichi, you have to go! It's your family's gala.” Her brows are furrowed and she is looking at him suspiciously.

Daichi lets out an exasperated sigh, “Well that's a discussion for the future. Let’s go settle into our rooms.”

Daichi puts his arm around your shoulders as he leads the group up to the back porch, walking through the garden and around the giant swimming pool and fire pit area. 

“I assume you four are taking your normal rooms?” Daichi asks the group.

They all nod before splitting in different directions, obviously understanding the intricate layout of the house after what you assume is years of friendship. 

Daichi leads you through the first floor, pointing out various rooms and points of interest as you take in the vastness of your new surroundings. Most of the rooms have white or cream-colored walls with very intricate crown molding. Some have very distinct and uncomfortable furniture that looks like it has never been used, while others look like they are ready for a full day of lounging. He even takes you past the bowling alley and the in-home movie theater.

Eventually, he leads you to a huge staircase that circles around the main entryway to the house. The whole room looks like it's made out of marble and you take a twirling step to bask in the grandness of the space. 

Daichi calls out to you, pulling you back into reality. He has one foot on the first step and his hand is outstretched for you to take.

“You coming?” he smiles at you, wiggling his fingers, waiting for you to take his hand. 

When you do, you hold on to it like it's your lifeline, the only anchor you have in this unfamiliar territory. He leads you up two flights of stairs to the third floor and then down a large hallway filled with doors and golden crown molding.

He stops in front of a door before saying, “Well, this is you,” and moving your duffle bag back to your shoulder, letting his hand linger on your skin until he forces himself to pull away. 

“I’m right here across the hall if you need anything, alright?” he reassures you with a smile.

You nod at him, trying to process all of the new information you've just taken in, before putting your hand on the doorknob and turning away from him.

He calls out to you before you go inside, “Why don't you take an hour or so — take a shower, there's a bathroom attached to the suite — and then when you come down to the kitchen, we can get some snacks?”

You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes at him with a pout, “Is this your way of telling me I smell?”

His laughter fills the hallway. “No, I just want you to relax. This is your vacation too, ya know?” His smile is contagious and you can't help but smile back at him, really hoping that a shower will help as he says.

“Okay Daichi, I'll try.”

With that you enter the bedroom, closing the door behind you before resting your head on the wood, letting out a very small sigh.

You try to relax like Daichi said by taking a warm shower, but everything was way too nice. The grand marble shower and the elegant tile tub just serve to remind you that you are in a world different than your own, giving you more anxiety than relaxation. 

You manage to get through your shower: fiddling with all of the button options to turn the water off, grabbing a plush towel to dry off, and then changing into some of the clothes that you packed.

You head back out to the bedroom in a huff and take another look around, half expecting the room to have transformed into a new one completely, but you are glad that it's just as you left it. 

The massive four-poster bed sits against one wall next to the room's giant floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the afternoon light, casting long shadows on the fireplace gracing the opposite wall and the plush sitting area in front of it.

You flop yourself on the bed, arms stretching out and you curse at how comfortable the mattress is. 

Who would have guessed the handsome boy you met in your econ class was this filthy rich.

You don't want your brain to fantasize but your thoughts drift there anyways as you sit up to sort through your clothes; it dreams of a future where this could be all yours. It's not like you weren't dreaming about a future with Daichi before, but now you’re imagining paying off your student loans, using some money to help your struggling friends and family, or maybe going even bigger than that, like starting a business or a charity to really help people. 

You have to stop yourself from going too far. You shouldn’t spiral with these thoughts because that's the big issue: you and Daichi, what are you really?

You were instantly infatuated with him when he smiled at you during your first economics lecture together just a few months ago. Sitting next to each other, passing a notebook back and forth drawing little doodles together when you should have been paying attention. The chemistry between the two of you only grew when you started studying together and he invited you out to party with some of his friends. 

The two of you have even shared a few make-out sessions together at said parties, but the next day when you expected things to be awkward or to at least have a discussion about what it meant, Daichi always acted like everything was normal, like the two of you hadn't had your tongues down each other throats the night before. 

And that's not to mention how he always seems to be holding your hand, or hooking his arm around you, giving you butterflies at every turn. He always seems to be more touchy when other guys are around, but you can say that you do the same. Hugging him back tighter when other girls look his way.

In the beginning, the small touches and longing glances you shared in class slowly turned to long hugs and holding hands. You thought that maybe Daichi was this way with all of his friends, but when he introduced you to his roommates, Asahi and Sugawara, you noticed that he isn’t that touchy with them. It seems to be something only reserved for you.

You think of all the shared touches that you've had just today and your heart flutters. It's like when the two of you touch, your heart is instantly filled with happiness that calms your soul. His touch just feels right and being with him feels as easy as breathing.

If soulmates do exist, you can imagine that this is what it feels like. 

You let out a deep sigh, shaking away your thoughts, before you decide to make your way down to the kitchen to meet up with the others.

You follow the voices through the maze of corridors and staircases to the kitchen, thank god they are a noisy bunch. 

Everyone is gathering around the huge kitchen island, with bowls of chips, candy, and other snacks scattered around, and there seem to be two different conversations going on.

Daichi has his back to you, and you walk up next to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He looks down, throwing his arm around you, pulling you into his space more before whispering, “How was your shower?”

You wrap your arms around his waist before shrugging your shoulders, choosing to instead focus on the conversation that Tanaka and Kuroo are having. Daichi grabs a few of the bowls of snacks and pulls them closer to you, taking a big handful of food for himself.

Kuroo lets out a loud annoyed groan before explaining, “Oikawa just texted me that he’s going to dock here for the night.”

You sense the mounting tension in the air and take a handful of snacks, ready to take in whatever drama that was about to unfold.

The mention of the name you are unfamiliar with seems to bring the other conversation to a close as everyone focuses their attention on Kuroo and his phone. 

Daichi lets out an exasperated sigh. “I could have sworn I told him to keep that thing away from here,” he says, rubbing his hand down his face in annoyance. 

“He's bringing that party boat here? During gala week?” Kiyoko adds, blowing hair out of her face with a huff. 

“Eh, I'm not going to complain, it's always full of hot babes,” Tanaka says right before a smack lands on his chest from Kiyoko. He pulls her into him, playfully kissing her cheeks, “No one is hotter than you babe, you know that.”

She rolls her eyes at his response but seems to accept his apology.

Not having any idea about who or what they are talking about you pipe up, “Who’s coming?”

Daichi lets out a big sigh before explaining, “Oikawa is this guy we grew up with, he’s a big flirt with an even bigger yacht. It's pretty much a giant party boat that he fills with supermodels.” You can practically feel the way Daichi’s eyes roll at the notion of a party boat stacked to the nines with supermodels.

Bokuto moves to Daichi’s other side, leaning over the island looking around him at you with a wide smile and adds, “Not to mention the alcohol and drugs.”

“Yes, yes, Bokuto, we all know why you enjoy Oikawa’s visits,” Daichi retorts, shaking his head and laughing.

“He just texted again,” Kuroo says with an annoyed groan. “Says he's going to be docking in three hours.”

“Well, what do you guys want to do until he gets here?” Daichi asks, taking a big handful of pretzels from a bowl close to him.

“We could go for a race around the track,” Kuroo says with a devilish smile.

Bokuto lets out an excited yell before pointing at Kuroo and exclaiming, “Hell yeah, lets go!”

Everyone heads outside into the evening sun. The warmth that the sun provided during the afternoon seems to be fading, giving the air a slight chill. 

Kuroo and Bokuto run with their hands in the air from the house to their cars before starting them and speeding off towards the track while Daichi leads you, Tanaka, and Kiyoko to the large ten-car garage that spans the side of the house.

He opens a side door leading everyone into the garage, pressing a big button on the wall causing all of the garage doors to begin opening, filling the space with light.

Your eyes widen when you look at the millions of dollars worth of vehicles equally spaced with precision in front of you. While you recognize some brands: Lamborghini, Ferrari, Bugatti, and Mercedes, there are more that you don't, and your eyes glaze over at the pure wealth displayed in the garage.

Tanaka's excited voice pulls you from your haze as he practically jumps up and down in place, “Can we take the Bugatti?” he shouts questioningly, making you jump.

“Sure thing,” Daichi replies as he takes the keys to the Bugatti Veyron SS off the hook and tosses them to Kiyoko.

You watch her unlock the car and climb into the driver's seat as Tanaka jumps into the passenger seat next to her. The engine roars to life and she carefully pulls it out of the garage before she peels off towards the track, leaving you and Daichi alone in the garage. 

“So, do you see a car you like?” he questions, his eyes following the car as it barrels around a corner.

The first real time alone with him since landing here and he decides to ignore the elephant in the room? You wouldn’t be surprised if there was actually an elephant around here somewhere.

You ignore his question and turn to face him, “Dai, what the fuck. What is this place? How are you so rich?” 

“I'm not rich, my parents are,” he quickly retorts, turning to face you.

“That's exactly what a rich person would say,” you roll your eyes at him.

“I know you must feel pretty deceived right now; it was so nice when I was just Daichi to you, not the heir to this big conglomerate worth millions of dollars,” he walks close to you, moving to place his hands on your shoulders but stopping himself, and lets his hands fall to the side almost in defeat. 

“My dad is this huge businessman and he has all these women who throw themselves at him because of his money. He's never been in love, even when he was with my Mom, and I didn’t want that. I don't want that. I want to be in love. I want to marry someone I'm in love with and not because it is what has been decided for me.” 

Of course, he would have a real reason that you couldn't get mad at. And of course, it’s romantic as hell. At least he’s being open about it now.

You look up at him, and you realize that this is the same Daichi that he's always been. Those are the same eyes that you've been looking at for months, the same hands that have held you so many times, the same Daichi as always, just a different setting.

“You know I'm not like that Dai, you could have told me,” you reply, your voice softer than it was earlier.

He takes a step closer, his hands reaching out and rubbing away at the stress in your shoulders.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry that I kept this hidden from you. I should have told you.” He sighs, closing the remaining space between the two of you and moving his hands to cup your face. “I just want you to understand what getting into a full relationship with me would mean.”

The way Daichi is looking at you makes your heart melt. His eyes reach your face in desperation, half expecting you to push him away but you just lean into his hands, closing your eyes and savoring his touch before you match his vulnerable gaze.

“What would a full relationship mean then, Daichi?” you practically purr at him.

“It means all this,” he says before kissing you lightly. “All the fun stuff, the cars, the houses, the private jets,” he kisses you again. “But it also comes with a lot of not fun stuff too.”

You take a deep breath before responding, heart pounding from the intimacy of the moment. “And what would happen if I said that I still wanted a relationship with you? Even with the not-fun stuff.”

His breath hitches before he smiles. “I'd give you everything,” he whispers, eyes searching yours again, thumbs caressing your lips softly as he still cradles your face in his hands. “I'd buy you the moon if you wanted it.”

“Good thing I don't want the moon then.” You grab his shirt, closing the gap between the two of you before kissing him.

His hands fall to your hips before he starts to push you backwards towards the Ferrari behind you, until your ass hits the car, never disconnecting from the kiss.  

His lips feel warm on yours as you get swept away into the moment with him. Your lips moving in tandem before his tongue expertly sweeps out at your bottom lip. You let out a moan, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. 

His grip on your waist only gets harder when he starts to move his body against yours, rutting his hips against yours, letting out a small moan into your mouth.

If the two of you weren't so caught up in each other, you would have heard Kuroo pull up to the garage and step out of his car before just staring at the two of you locked in each other's embrace. He rests his cheek on his short car door before he reaches a hand inside his car to honk the horn. You and Daichi startle at the sound, pulling apart as Daichi sends Kuroo a death glare.

Kuroo lets out a loud laugh unaffected by Daichi’s glare. “Thanks for the show, but are we going to race or what?”

Daichi waves him off, looking back down at you, his eyes bouncing from your lips to your eyes, with a smirk, “Do you want to drive?”

You hear Kuroo drive away as you playfully smack Daichi’s chest before you exclaim, “God no!”

His eyes close as he chuckles at you, “Okay, fair. But which one do you want to take?”

You look around at the cars not really knowing too much about them, so you ask, “Which one is the fastest?”

He smirks at you and says, “That’s my girl,” before throwing an arm around your shoulder and grabbing the key for the white Koenigsegg Regera off the hook.

He walks you over to the passenger side of the car, opening the scissor door for you and watching you take a seat before pulling it closed and jogging to his side, getting in the car. 

The brown leather of the interior is a stark contrast to the white of the outside paint, and you find your body being cradled in the expensive bucket seat. Daichi leans over you, grabbing your seat belt and buckling it for you, bringing his face inches away from yours, teasing you before he buckles his own seat.

He pulls out of the garage slowly before putting the pedal to the floor and driving off towards the airstrip, racing around a few tight corners before he drives towards the runway where the other three cars are already lined up. 

Bokuto jumps off of his side fender when he sees you and Daichi approach and makes his way inside his car with an excited spring in his step. Kiyoko kisses Tanaka before making her way into her borrowed car and Kuroo, who was sitting cross-legged on the roof of his car watches the two of you pull up before jumping down and walking towards you.

Daichi meticulously lines up the front wheels with the other cars, before letting the engine idle, rolling down the window to talk to Kuroo.

When the rooster-haired man leans down to talk into the window, you don't miss his glance at you, before his eyes dart back to Daichi, and a small dusting of pink appears on his cheeks.

“We've decided we're doing a mile drag, first to cross the line wins, the loser has to make dinner and wash the dishes,” Kuroo announces.

Daichi looks over to you, intertwining your fingers and bringing them up to lips, kissing your knuckles, and a determined look crosses his face, his mouth turning up on the corner in a smirk. “Winner gets to pick what's for dinner, so you better decide what you want.”

His competitive side is something that you rarely see, usually only coming out when he's challenged, and the charged air around him has heat pooling between your legs. 

Daichi lets your hand go and starts going through the settings of the car, setting up the launch control, mumbling to himself as he remembers how to set it up, as Kuroo heads back to his car.

You hear the roar of the other engines as they come to life and look through Daichi’s window at the other drivers, all giving thumbs up, ready to start.

Before Daichi gives his thumbs-up, he turns to you, “Just keep your head back, alright?”

You give him a worried look, but comply, placing the back of your head on the headrest behind you. You're concerned about what to do with your hands so you decide to place them in your lap.

Daichi gives the thumbs up and rolls his window up, giving the engine a few revs before hovering his foot over the gas in wait.

You watch as a now shirtless Tanaka walks out in between the cars. You can barely hear him as he starts to count down from five, but when he gets to one, he starts waving his shirt in the air wildly and Daichi slams on the gas.

The world starts to blur as the car accelerates. The loud roar of the engine assaults your ears as your heart starts to beat faster from the sudden adrenaline rush. 

Time seems to slow as you go faster. You watch the speedometer increase: 60, 80,100, 120 and it’s still climbing.

The noise of the air rushes past as the car seamlessly cuts through and you feel your heart beating in your throat. 

You look over at Daichi to see a big smile on his face; he knows he’s winning and you take the time to look back as Kuroo is being passed by Kiyoko, and she's getting closer to Daichi.

You let out a laugh: the crazy speeds and all the adrenaline pumping through making your body seem like it's on fire.

You glance at the speedometer and watch it hit 240 mph before you and Daichi cross the finish line first and he slams on the brakes. You are very glad you listened to him about keeping your head back, or else you're sure you would have whiplash.

Daichi stops the car, putting it in park before turning to look at you, your eyes full of bewilderment as your body tries to process the fact that you're in one piece after such a rush. 

“Holy shit Dai! You won! We won! That was amazing!” you exclaim frantically to a smiling Daichi, laughing along with you as you stammer on about how fast it was. 

The other cars form a circle with the hoods facing each other, and you watch as everyone starts to get out.

Daichi nods his head towards the others, “Come on, let’s go gloat.”

Everyone sits or leans against the hood of their cars, and Daichi once again has you tucked under his arm. You laugh along with the group and their antics as they argue over the standings. The official decision was that Daichi won, which was unanimous, with Kiyoko taking second, followed by Kuroo and Bokuto. 

Bokuto said something about his launch control was being finicky before all of you hear whooping and yelling coming from a very out-of-breath Tanaka. He had apparently started running after the cars had left and was just now reaching the group.

Everyone is in high spirits as you talk for a bit and you seem to mesh seamlessly with them, throwing out a few quips that make Bokuto and Kuroo snort, teaming up with Kiyoko when the boys get too rowdy. It almost seems like you're not the new person in the group, that you’ve known them forever, and you are really happy that Daichi has surrounded himself with great people.

The rest of the evening was spent driving the cars and having long chats afterwards, about nothing and everything all at once. 

When it came time for dinner, since you and Dai were the winners, you got to decide what Bokuto was making for everyone. His attempt at your favorite dish left the kitchen filled with smoke and Daichi surprised everyone with pizza, even before talks of a back up plan for was discussed.

Then you heard the horn of a ship, followed by mixed reactions as the five of you clear up dinner and get ready to leave the mansion for the ‘sex ferry,’ as Bokuto called it.

Daichi gets closer to you and murmurs into your hair, “Watch out for pervs on the boat, stay close to me, yeah?” You nod, as you wrap your arm around his ready to leave.

That is, until Kiyoko stops Daichi before the two of you make it out the door, “I’m stealing her for a second, she can't go on a yacht dressed like that!”

You look yourself over in the mirror and you have to admit, Kiyoko did an excellent job dressing you up.

Your hair is perfectly styled and your face has just the right amount of makeup. Kiyoko crosses in front of the mirror applying the finishing touch: a shimmering lip gloss that is the perfect shade for you. The oversized, white knit sweater that she had you put on hangs loosely over your curves, tucked in perfectly into the brown skirt that she picked out for you. It's not a look that you would usually go for, but you have to give her credit, she did a good job, you look stunning.

On the way up to this ginormous closet, she had explained to you that Daichi’s sisters had this closet stocked with every size and designer label known to man, just in case any of their friends needed a last minute change of clothes. 

At first, you didn't believe her, but when you saw the enormous room with a rainbow of color-coordinated clothes hanging from floor to ceiling you changed your tune. You were even more shocked to find that all of the clothes still had their price tags on, wincing at the $1,000 price of one pair of pants.

Kiyoko gives you one last glance over before she starts to get herself ready, dressing in a black long-sleeved dress, the hem of the skirt falling just at her thighs and fishnet stockings, the exact opposite of the aesthetic she chose for you. 

She applies her red lipstick with a pop before turning to you, “Well, what do you think?’

She takes your hand and twirls you around so that you are facing the mirror before she rests her chin on your shoulder.

You laugh at her antics, before replying, “I think we look hot!”

The two of you make your way down to the boat, exiting the mansion through a side door and make your way down to the dock.

Now that you are up close to the boat, you can see the massive amount of people on board. The four decks are filled to the brim with people dancing, talking, and making out, all with various drinks in their hands, and you can see Aoba Johsai written in cursive on the side of the boat.

The two of you step onboard and you hear him before you see him, “Kiyoko, over here!”

Tanaka is calling out for her through the crowd of people, leaning along the railing of the boat, dressed in all black and holding two beers.

She makes her way through the crowd with you close behind. Tanaka wraps her in his arms, kissing her on the cheek.

“Looking good babe,” he growls into her ear as she takes one of the beers from his hand.

The two of them look like they are about to start making out with all of their flirty touches, and you would like to find Daichi as soon as possible so you clear your throat and ask, “Do you know where Daichi is?”

“He's usually in the second-floor pool room; it’s up the stairs, second door on the right,” Tanaka replies while gesturing toward the stairway back by where you just came from.

You nod and take your leave, making your way to the stairs, bumping into people on the crowded deck. After the first few steps, you look back at Kiyoko, wondering if she’s coming with you. Too late, you think as you watch Tanaka pull her hips closer to his, whisper into her ear, and start kissing down her neck.

You shake your head and continue on, happy that she's having fun, but wishing you still had her company by your side. 

At the top of the stairs, you only see one door that opens to an empty hallway. You decide to take your luck with it, even if this isn't the right place, it's a nice space to take a breather from all the people. 

You open the door and what you thought was a quiet hallway turns out to be an echo chamber for the bass echoing off the walls. Where is the music even coming from; you barely heard it outside?

Leaning against the wall, you take a few deep breaths, which are immediately interrupted by the smell of cigar smoke wafting towards you. Part of you wants to leave but the other part of you says stay, stay for him. 

This is so much to process, you can already feel a migraine coming on. The smell of cigar smoke and the thumping bass echoing off the walls of the ship isn't helping your stress levels. Where is Daichi? This would be so much easier if he would just appear by your side magically.

The door you just came through opens and shuts with a squeak, and you hope that your prayers have been answered, but when you turn to look at the person who just joined your space, it is very much not Daichi.

His blonde hair and very noticeable tongue ring are the farthest from Daichi as you can get, and you really wish that you weren't in this hallway alone with him right now.

He makes his way closer to you, getting in your personal space, leaning one arm against the wall next to your head to look you up and down, before licking his lips.

“Hey baby girl, are you lost?”  

You start to look for an exit as he moves closer to you. “No, I'm just looking for someone,” you reply.

His arms cage you in, not giving you any room to move away. “Aw, don't be like that, I can show you a good time too,” he insists. “The name's Yūji Terushima, you'll need to know it when you're screaming it out later.”

You try to move away from him but he won't let you pass, until you hear a door open. 

Daichi comes out of one of the side rooms and the instant he sees you trapped by this man, his eyes turn red with anger.

He rushes over to the two of you, yelling out, “Hey! Get off of her!”

Terushima isn't quick enough to respond, turning to face Daichi, but Daichi is already at his side sending his fist flying towards the blond's nose with a mean right hook. 

Your body sags with relief as Daichi pulls you into his arms and Terushima is on the floor withering in pain, gasping at his probably broken nose.

Daichi is frantically looking over you, checking your arms and face for any sort of harm, “Did he touch you? Are you okay?” he questions you rapidly.

You bury your face in his chest and nod, “Yeah, I'm ok.”

He puts his arms around you before pulling you away towards the door he just came from.  “We're down here,” he says, glaring at Terushima covered in his blood on the floor, leading you away from him.

The room that Daichi was in is stuffed full of people. People line the walls, getting very personal with each other, while others sit on the couches in the center of the room with people pulled onto their laps or under their arms. There are two pool tables on either side of the couches and you spot Kuroo and Bokuto playing what looks like a game of strip pool with four girls, and, from the looks of it, they are losing badly. On the other end of the room is a large bar, with glass bottles lining shelves behind it and a few empty bar stools.

Daichi chooses to ignore his almost naked friends and heads towards the bar, pulling out a stool for you before taking the seat next to you.

The bartender has very fluffy brown hair with matching brown eyes and once he's done serving up drinks to the couple down the bar, he makes his way over to you.

He starts to gather a glass for Daichi without even asking him what he wanted and then looks at you expectantly, “Well cutie, what can I get for you?”

Daichi levels his gaze at the man, and you can feel the deep grumble vibrate from his chest before he turns to you, “This,” he gestures to the bartender, “is Oikawa.”

Oikawa gives you a wink before scurrying out of Daichi’s reach as he playfully tries to grab him, causing Daichi to let out a huff. 

With the weird environment you're in, you think it's best to forgo alcohol, at least for now, so you ask Oikawa for water.

He hands you a glass with lots of ice in it and you watch the way the two of them interact. Their friendship looks to be built on a bed of mutual annoyance, but you can see how they care about each other hidden in the undertones of their speech. 

The night goes on and you spend a lot of it with Oikawa and Daichi at the bar. Oikawa asks you lots of personal questions, some of which you choose to ignore, and some of them you indulge him a little. If Daichi trusts him, it's okay for you too, right?

Just as your ass is starting to hurt from the barstool, a younger man comes up to Daichi, his orange hair bouncing in the wind as he practically vibrates in place. You catch his name, Hinata, and some of what he's trying to explain. There seems to be trouble between him and another guy, and he came to Daichi to be the mediator. 

You can't blame him; in fact, if you were having any sort of trouble, Daichi's the first person that you would seek out. Daichi is so strong and dependable, he makes the rest of the world feel safe and easy. It's not that he makes problems go away but he seems to take in the situation for what it is and find a solution that seems so blatantly obvious you can't believe that no one else thought of it first.

Daichi is that and so much more. His playfulness and competitiveness are something that you saw today when he was driving that car. Not to mention how hot he looked behind the wheel, his arms muscles were on full display and you barely even got the chance to stare at them. You think about going back in time just so that you could watch them flex as he gripped the steering wheel.

You shake your head, trying to pull your brain away from the horny thoughts, but all that manages to do is send you back to the memories of your hot makeout session in the garage earlier. How his hands were all over your body, his lips pressed to yours...

Daichi’s laugh pulls you from your daydream and you realize that he, Hinata and Oikawa are all staring at you. His hand is waving in front of your face, “Earth to Y/N.”

Your shocked expression tells you everything he needs to know so he repeats himself, putting his hand on your knee, “You good here for a minute? I gotta help Hinata with something.” You nod at him and the two walk off together.

Oikawa talks to you in between serving people drinks and you manage to have a decent conversation about your university studies. Turns out, he is studying a major very similar to yours.

Oikawa pulls his phone out and answers it, before putting it down on his shoulder, turning to you, “I have to take this, I’ll have one of my boys take you to Daichi.”

He turns to one of the nearby couches close to the bar before barking out, “Mattsun, take her out to where Daichi is. I have some shit to deal with.”

The man he called out to kisses the blonde sitting on his lap before moving her off of him so that he can help you find Daichi. His tall body leads you out onto the deck of the boat through hordes of drunk people dancing and making out until you spot an orange mess of hair and Daichi standing next to him.

As you get closer you notice a small, but rather important detail that you couldn't see when you were farther away, Daichi is surrounded by tall, skinny, gorgeous-looking supermodels, and all of them seem to have their hands on him.

Daichi seems not to notice the touches, he's too focused on a boy with black hair laying upside down on a lounge chair, his hair softly caressing the wooden deck with every small gust of wind. 

You notice another woman start to touch his hair before Daichi swats her away like she’s a fly before he's kneeling to look at the chair guy again. 

Mattsun leads you closer to Daichi, announcing your arrival before saying his goodbyes and heading back where he came from. You yell out thanks as he is leaving and he waves his hand in the air as he walks away.

Daichi stands from his kneeling position and moves to your side. He has to get closer to your ear to talk as you are now closer to wherever the loud music is coming from but you don't mind, wrapping your arms around his waist possessively, eyeing the other girls.

“Kageyama had too much to drink, he's absolutely wasted,” Daichi says loudly, making sure you can hear him over the bumping bass.

You wished you would have grabbed your water before you left the bar. Just when you're about to suggest someone go get him some water, Oikawa bursts out onto the deck from a side door, exclaiming, “That little shit!” before running off towards the upper decks. You see that he's being followed by Mattsun, the guy who just helped you, and two other men, one with spiky black hair and the other with short pink hair. They all look extremely pissed.

You hear the sound of helicopter blades before you feel a blast of wind, causing the water to start rippling around the boat. You look curiously up at Daichi before he's turning and barking orders to Hinata to get the drunk guy some water and crackers before he's grabbing your hand.

“There's only one man that could be, and we better go make sure Oikawa doesn't kill him.”

By the time you two make it to the upper deck where the helipad is, there already seems to be a standoff in place. A tall man with dark olive hair stands with a large briefcase tucked under the arm of his suit coat. He does not look like he's dressed for a party, but instead like he's about to go into a courtroom.

This new man's face is void of emotion as Oikawa is practically snarling at him, lip upturned like an angry dog.

Daichi runs between the two warring factions, putting up his hands to Oikawa before turning to the tall man.

But before Daichi can say anything Oikawa is yelling over his head, “Who said you could land here, get lost!”

The tall man completely ignores Oikawa, walking up to Daichi, “Ah, Sawamura, just the man I was hoping to see.”

Oikawa's face turns red with anger, if this was an anime you are sure that there would be steam coming out of his head.

Daichi looks at him quizzically, “All this just to see me? Should we go talk in private?”

Ushijima gives him a confirming grunt, nodding his head and Daichi leads him around Oikawa and his men, stopping to whisper something in Oikawa's ear, looking at you, before making his way over to you.

His hand cups your face and you nuzzle into them as he speaks, “I have to go talk to Ushijima. Oikawa said he'll watch out for you so stay here until I get back alright?”

You don't want to leave his side again, but this must be important if a guy is willing to land on what seems to be his mortal enemy's boat only to talk to Daichi. You give him a small pout before you nod, and he kisses you before turning and jogging after the mysterious Ushijima.

Oikawa throws his hands up into the air making his way over to a bar. Damn, he really has these things on every level, doesn't he?

This bar is smaller than the one in the pool room, and only has two stools, but there is a long couch next to it where his men sit down. He motions for you to take a seat at the bar as he starts pouring drinks for the other three, before offering to do the same for you. Taking him up on his offer this time he makes you both matching fruity drinks with cute umbrellas before he joins you, sitting at the barstool next to you.

Oikawa still seems to be on edge from his confrontation with Ushijima, or the lack of one, so the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a bit. You watch some of the party-goers stumble around on the lower decks, and you see women and men come up to talk to the three sitting on the couches. You pick up their names after a bit — Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun, are what everyone calls them — and you eventually watch Mattsun get pulled away by the busty blonde you saw him with earlier.

Oikawa seems to pull himself out of his mental slump when he finishes his drink while you've only been sipping on yours, so you are nowhere near close to finishing it. He makes his way back over to the bar side and washes his cup before he starts making another concoction for himself.

He breaks his silence, “So, you and Daichi are pretty cute together.”

You hum at him in agreement, taking another small sip of your drink.

He continues, “He must be pretty serious about you if he's bringing you all the way out here. He's never brought a girl here before.”

Daichi and you haven't talked about your past relationships, but you aren't really surprised to hear that with what he told you earlier about wanting to be in love.

You don't want to pry, but you do want to know more. This side of Daichi’s life is still a mystery to you. 

“Not even one girl?” you ask him in all sincerity.

Oikawa smirks, glad that he caught your attention with that one. “Well, he did date a girl from our neck of the woods, if that's what you want to call us rich shits. She was hot and smart but they never really seemed to mesh.”

You give him a curious look so he continues, “She was all business, no heart. And you know Daichi, his heart is ten times too big. They just didn't work.”

You nod taking in your new information before you feel someone next to you, the man with the pink hair, Makki. 

He opens his mouth before he leans on the bar to stabilize himself, the alcohol apparently starting to kick in. His words are slurred together. “Are you two talking about Daichi? I heard some models say they would pay $10,000 to lick one of his thigh muscles!”

Oikawa pushes the drunken Makki off the bar and he stumbles back to the couch before slumping over into a woman's cleavage.

“Don't mind him,” Oikawa says, trying to bring back the lighter mood from earlier. “He doesn't know what he's talking about.”

Oh, but you do know what he’s talking about. You've been avoiding the thoughts since you landed, but now there's no holding back the dark thoughts you've been trying to suppress. 

How are you supposed to be good enough for him? For Daichi and his big heart? You've seen it so much tonight, the way he laughs and takes care of his friends, like it’s second nature, coming easier than breathing for him. He's so caring, compassionate, fun and you're just you. 

How are you supposed to compete for his attention when you are up against literal supermodels? 

You swipe at frustrated tears forming in the corner of your eyes before speaking to Oikawa, “Can you tell Daichi I’m gonna go back to the house, I'm tired. But it was nice to meet you.”

You were very much not tired. This was the most wide-awake you have felt in quite some time. Your mind races with all the things that are wrong about the situation you find yourself in. You would laugh at how being on a billionaire’s floating sex boat is what made you feel this insecure if you weren’t feeling so pathetic.

You find your way off the boat with ease, pushing past people grinding on each other to get back to the dock so you can make your way to the safety of your bedroom. 

As you get to the house’s side door you hear a familiar voice calling out your name.

Turning around, you see Daichi running up the path you just took, before he stops next to you, out of breath. 

“Did you sprint all the way up here?” you ask him.

“Yeah…” he pants out in between breaths. “I wanted ... to catch you.”

“I told Oikawa I was going to bed, it’s been a long day and —,” you try to explain but he interrupts you. 

“Are you actually tired?”

You are fidgeting with your hands, not wanting to lie to him, “Well, not exactly...”

“Come somewhere with me.” It flows out of his mouth like a demand but you can see the question in his eyes as they gleam in the darkness. You look at him quizzically before he continues, “Don't worry, no one else is gonna be there.”

Your lips turn in a small smile at his statement, “Just us?”

He takes your hands, placing them both between his own and brings them to his lips, giving your knuckles a light kiss. He keeps them there when he replies, “Yes, just us. I promise.”

You think for a minute, and then give him a hesitant yes. 

His face lights up, “Okay, let's get some supplies.”

He takes your hand, pulling you into the kitchen, grabbing the snacks you like, and a nice chilled glass of water along with two glasses before motioning to a cupboard, telling you to grab the best blankets. 

When you rub the blankets on your skin to test which ones are softer, Daichi smirks at you. 

“Cute,” he says before making his way over to you, “but make sure you grab one of the big sturdy ones too.”

He grabs a basket for all the stuff and wraps you in one of the soft blankets before heading to the elevator that was tucked away in the corner of the kitchen.

“An elevator, really?” you grin at him, your earlier frustration easing away the more time you spend with him and his smile.

“To be fair, it was installed before we bought the house, but my grandma does use it a lot.”

The two of you ride the elevator to the top floor where Daichi starts running a hand along the wall looking for something. When a secret door pops open, he laughs at your shocked expression before motioning you to follow him inside.  

A hidden staircase leads the two of you up to the roof and you take in the sight of the grounds. You can see the race track where you spent your evening, the large yacht floating below filled with people still bumping away to the music, and the stars... You swear that you've never seen the stars shine so bright before. You can see them weaving patterns in the night sky, their stories unknown to you but you enjoy their beauty nonetheless.

When you look over at Daichi, his eyes are soft as they trace your features, and you love the way his gaze makes you feel.

He leads you out to a small section of the roof near the middle of the house where he lays the thick blanket on the ground, setting out the snacks and taking off his shoes before sitting down on the blanket, patting the spot next to him as you take off your shoes and join him.

The two of you sit together, eating snacks, sharing stories for a while, staring up at the night sky together, before he turns to you with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Let's play a game,” he proposes.

You look him over and nod, waiting for him to explain the game.

“It's easy, just ask me anything, whatever you need answered and I won't hold anything back.” He seems very confident, obviously wanting to make himself an open book after keeping this big secret from you. There are so many things you could ask, you don’t know where to start. 

You raise an eyebrow at him before asking, “What is the worst decision you've ever made?”

He rolls his head to look you in the eyes, before raising his eyebrows at you, “Going right for the hard-hitting questions then?”

“You said you'd answer Daichi, are you gonna take that back?” you say with a little smirk.

He thinks for a moment before replying. “Fine,” He says before rolling his eyes, “I let Bokuto give me a tattoo once when we were both drunk.”

He sees your quizzical eyes as you try to suppress your laughter, “It’s on my ass and it’s a smiley face. Stop laughing!”

You can't stop the laughter that comes from you as you imagine your big strong Daichi with a funky little tattoo on his ass cheek. You are wiping the tears out of your eyes as he takes his opportunity for revenge.

“Okay, my turn!” he exclaims, rubbing his hands together.

You have to stop laughing so hard so that you can retort, “Wait, wait, you never said that I would have to answer too!”

He smiles and shakes his head, laughing. “Yeah, I guess you're right. How about I get to ask you a question for every two questions you ask me? And you don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

You look at him questioningly and you are very curious as to what Daichi would want to know about you so badly he’s willing to put himself on the line first. “Sounds fun,” you smile. 

“Good, what's your second question?”

“What were you talking about with that guy, Ushijima?”

He looks uncomfortable as he tries to think about how to answer you. “Well, he mostly just saw Oikawa's boat and wanted to annoy him,” he chuckles before continuing. “But he also wanted to talk about a deal that our fathers are trying to make to secure our family ties. It's something that we both are very against.”

His answer leaves you with more questions, “What do you mean, ‘family ties’?”

He smoothly switches from his uncomfortable state and offers you a coy smile, “Do you want that to be your next question, sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes at him you respond, “Ugh, no.”

“Okay, good because I really don't want to think about it. My turn then.” He thinks for a second before asking, “Do you think this,” he gestures into the air, “is too much for you? You know, the cars, boats, houses, money?”

You pause to gather your thoughts, staring up at the night sky again.

“I think that it's a lot to take in all at once,” you say slowly, calculating each word before it comes out of your mouth. “Especially the sex party boat,” you chuckle, “But I could get used to it.” You let the ‘for you’ hang in the air unspoken. 

He grabs your hand, looking up to the stars, “I’m glad. Okay, what's your next question?”

You don't want to ruin the mood and ask about the ‘family ties’ between his and Ushijima’s families, so instead, you choose a safer route. 

“What was it like growing up?”

He seems taken aback at first before a simple smile adorns his face, “My parents didn't love each other, not really. They had me, and then my brothers and sisters, but when times got hard they didn't support each other. They divorced pretty early in my life, I was still a kid when it happened.”

He pauses when you squeeze his hand in reassurance, but he's still smiling as he continues, “They split the companies between them, got us a nanny, and we bounced back and forth between houses every few months. I eventually just ended up as the caretaker for my siblings, making sure they didn't turn into spoiled brats.”

His laugh at the last part is so genuine it makes your heart flutter, but even so, his life has been far from perfect. “Wow, Daichi, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It wasn't that bad, I got to have a lot of fun.” He shakes off your concerned look before he gets to ask his question, “My turn again. What was it like for you growing up?”

You explain to him about your family dynamic, watching how his eyes seem to light up when you make jokes and then fall when you mention your hardships. He squeezes your hand like he never wants to let go when you finish telling him your stories, a playful smile returning to his lips before he tells you to ask your next set of questions. 

You think of what to ask next, and your face grows hot as your brain churns up a question that you have never talked about with Daichi before. 

Your tongue stumbles as the words flow from your mouth, “Have you had sex before?”

He tries to suppress his smile, “Yeah a few times, not with anyone really special though.”

Your lips part in surprise and you find yourself asking in a breathless tone, “What’s your number?”

Daichi leans closer to you, erasing the distance between your bodies as his hands move up the skin on your exposed thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake, “Is that your next question?”

You're breathless, the heat from his fingers distracting you from the fire brewing inside you,  “Yeah, it is.”

Daichi’s lips are so close to your own you can feel his breath on your soft skin, his voice dipping an octave when he asks, “Why, do you want to be one of them?”

You clear your mind enough to retort back at him. “Is that your next question?” you say, brushing your nose against his teasingly.

“Yes,” he answers before his breath hitches in his throat as you move your hands to his thighs.

“You first,” you giggle as his cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.

He answers as quickly as possible, his words almost too fast to hear but his tone is so low it sends shockwaves straight to your core. “It’s four, Laney in high school, this girl Kay at a party, Hime my ex and then Jackie in college a year ago. Your turn.”

Your mind clouds with his scent as you bring your hands up to his chest. Why is he so hot when talking about other people he's fucked, and why aren't you more jealous? 

“I- uh, yeah. I would love to be your number five,” you stammer out. 

He smirks at you, both of you are very obviously in need of each other's touch, more than you were getting and you can't deny how good it feels to have his undivided attention like this. Something about Daichi makes you forget your sense of self, and his touch instantly sends your heart racing.

“Do you have any more questions, sweetheart?”

You nod, biting your lip, “Are you going to kiss me, Dai?”

He nods before his eyes search yours. The stars tonight are reflected in his dark irises and you swear that you could get lost in him if you looked long enough. 

Daichi moves closer to you at an agonizingly slow pace, and you savor the electricity that is simmering in the distance. It's enough to have your heart skip a beat before he closes the gap.

His lips meet yours and it's slow at first. His touch and kiss are reminiscent of the way that stars seemingly burn for eons until they can't take any more heat and explode in a fury of passion.

You grab the collar of his shirt, bringing him impossibly closer to you, wanting to erase any remaining space between the two of you. You seemingly throw him off his balance as he almost falls on top of you. You can feel him smile into the kiss before he starts to reposition your body with his big, strong hands. 

Daichi sits back, before pulling your body into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist before continuing the kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip and you moan at the contact, allowing him access, while you snake your hands into his hair, giving his roots a slight tug to get him to kiss you harder.

More. You need more.

His hands move up your body from your hips with a slow drag of his fingertips up to your neck, cradling your head in his hands, angling your head to kiss you deeper. 

Your body burns at the contact with him, your soul reaching out for his through your kiss. Hearts melting and colliding into one supernova as your lips push and pull against each other. This heat that ignites within you that only he can seem to control, grows and grows until you feel like you're going to go insane if you don't touch him more soon. 

Grinding your hips down on him, you can feel how much he is enjoying this, and you can't help but smile when he lets out a small whine into your mouth. Kissing him harder you start to move your hips against his as he ruts up into you at the same time. The delicious friction you've been craving but it's not enough, you need more.

His mind must have melded with yours because he stops kissing you, pulling away with your bottom lip caught between his teeth until you let out a small gasp. 

“Pretty girl, tell me you want this,” he asks breathlessly.

You feel your cunt clench at his praise, needing more from him, needing everything. 

“Dai, I want all of you.”

His breath hitches in his throat, and his eyes take in the sight of you on top of him with the endless backdrop of stars above you. 

The look he's giving you melts any remaining pieces of your heart into a giant puddle, his eyes are soft and a small smile is on his lips as he whispers, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

You rest your forehead on his, looking him in the eyes and reply, “me too.”

He smiles at you bigger and you can't imagine feeling any happier than you are right now, his eyes crinkle in happiness before he buries his face into your chest, wrapping around you and hugging you with a huge amount of strength. 

You let him hold you like that for a few seconds before the need growing in your stomach becomes unbearable.

You move your hands to cradle his head, pulling him from your chest so that you can look at him. His eyes are half-lidded looking up at you in awe, like he can’t believe that you're here with him on his lap.

“Daichi,” you practically purr, “please, fuck me.”

His eyes flutter at your words, and he bites his lip. He looks like he's fighting some sort of internal battle.

Before you can register his movement, the world is tilting on its axis, and your back is now on the soft blanket. His strong arms caging you under him and your legs are around his waist as he leans over you.

You can see why he was staring up at you earlier, he looks heavenly with the night sky as his backdrop. The soft glow from the house illuminating his features and he looks beautiful and so fucking sexy. 

His eyes land on your lips and you watch as one corner of his mouth tilts up in satisfaction at your reaction to him. 

“Aw, my girl thinks I'm sexy,” he says, nuzzling his nose against yours as he taunts you.

You can't believe you said that out loud, but it's true so you nod, worried what else will come out of your mouth if you choose to open it. 

He leans down so that he is right next to your ear and he growls, “I think she’s fucking sexy too.” 

He gives your earlobe a small nip before he starts kissing your neck. You turn your head, giving him more room, and he takes full advantage of it, tracing his tongue along your pulse before moving his lips against your skin. His lips search your neck until he finds that spot that makes you gasp, and then he focuses all his attention there, biting it lightly before his tongue swipes away the sting. 

You moan for him, moving your hand to his hair, gathering some between your fingers before he sucks hard. Your hips jut up, grinding on him in pleasure, and both of you moan into each other as your clothed cunt brushes against his hard cock.

“I’ve been so fucking hard for you since our kiss earlier.” His mouth kisses down to your shoulder which is still covered by your sweater. “Do you want my mouth or my fingers?”

His hands make their way under your sweater and over the skin of your stomach, before teasing your nipples through your bra and you let out a gasp when he gives one of them a squeeze, a warning for you not answering him.

“I asked you a question, answer me,” he says in a stern voice that sends shivers down your spine and makes your eyes flutter.

Your mind tries to calculate a response, as the assault on your nipples increases, sending shocks of pleasure right to your core.

Unable to focus on anything but how his fingers feel on your skin as he trails a hand down your body, “your fingers, please” you moan out for him.

He leans back and pushes your skirt up around your hips before he starts to tease his fingers along the cloth covering your core. 

His gaze on you makes you want to cover yourself up, but when you move to close your legs, his hand grabs your knee and pushes you back open for him.

He uses both of his hands to pull your underwear down, staring at the string of slick that connects them and your soaked folds. He tosses them somewhere over his shoulder, before taking in the sight before him. The cold night air meets your warm cunt and sends shivers up your spine, but the cold is quickly replaced with the heat of Daichi’s warm hands on your thighs.

“God, you're beautiful,” he groans, as he watches your cunt flutter around nothing at the depth of his voice. Fingers moving back to your slit, teasing your folds before he moves his fingers up to circle your clit.

You let out a gasp when he finally touches you where you've been needing him. Your hips jut up in search of more contact. 

He teases his fingers through your folds before sliding one into you. You can feel how wet you are and it makes your face heat up but he feels so good inside you, you don't care.

He thrusts his finger into you a few times before adding a second, watching your face morph into pleasured bliss before focusing his attention on the way your walls are trying to suck him inside.

Your hands move to your chest, kneading the flesh there as he increases his pace, finger-fucking you until he finds the spot that makes you scream.

The pleasure in your body continues to build as he focuses all his attention on that one spot. Your nerves are all on fire and you can feel the building pressure, just waiting to be released. Daichi is making you feel so alive, his fingers working magic on your body, weaving their way into your soul and imprinting his mark there where it can never leave.

All of the muscles in your body tense and you hear Daichi say, “cum for me,” before the coil inside you snaps and your body convulses in pleasure, singing out his name in praise as he sends you to the stars. His voice and fingers still work you over, sending more pleasure into your system before you feel yourself gush around his fingers, your body almost folding in on itself as you grab at his wrist to hold him still inside of you. 

Your breath comes out in short bursts as you relax onto the blanket with him still kneeling between your legs. When you look up at him, he has the cockiest smile on his face, obviously proud of himself.

You weakly smile and nod at him, hoping that he understands that he just sent you into orbit before you stretch out your hands for him. 

He reaches out, and you pull him down on top of you. You kiss him roughly and he eagerly ruts his hips into you, moaning into your mouth when he can feel your wetness seeping through his pants.

You reach down between your bodies, unbuckling his belt and undoing the button on his pants. You try to get to his cock, but with the angle you're at and his boxers getting in the way, you can't seem to reach, and you let out a small whine. 

Daichi seems to understand, and he pushes his pants and boxers down past his thighs, giving you the perfect view of his cock. 

It makes your mouth water and you want to taste him so bad. Your hands move to stroke him, gathering the precum that leaks onto your fingers before you pop them into your mouth, lapping up the flavor eagerly.

You moan at the taste, sucking on your fingers, wishing they were his cock. You vow to yourself to take him down your throat and have him at your mercy before the end of this trip.

Daichi’s hand pumps his shaft a few times before he runs the tip through your folds, gathering your slick, before circling your clit with the head of his cock. 

You moan at how thick and heavy he feels against your soft folds. “Please Dai. I need you so bad, please, fuck me.”

He lets out a groan. “When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?”

He lets go of his cock, and moves his hands up to hold yours, interlocking your fingers together before his lips connect to yours in a hungry kiss. He holds eye contact with you as he slowly moves his hips into position as the head of his cock slowly presses into you.

You watch him bite his lip as he fights the urge to buck into you, his half-lidded eyes concentrating on your face, watching your mouth form into a beautiful ‘o’ and your eyes flutter as he pushes more of himself inside you. 

When his hips are flush against yours, he stills, wanting to give you time to get used to his girth. He can't help but savor the way your walls are squeezing him and sucking him into you. You give him a slow nod before he starts moving again, slowly pulling out of you and before pushing back in with more power.

You can't help but dig your nails into the back of his hands, forming crescent-shaped indents. The way his cock hits all of the spots inside of you perfectly has you questioning if this is a dream, but the way he sounds and looks as he moves above you is something so hot that your brain could never imagine it this perfectly.

His lips scatter kisses along your jaw until he's at your neck again, savoring the feel of your still tender flesh against his tongue. He’s taking his time focusing on leaving his mark at the top of your collarbone, sucking and nipping at your skin.

His head falls to your shoulder and his breath turns uneven as he pants out, “if you keep squeezing me like that I'm not gonna last,” in between thrusts.

You aren't going to last either, the coil in your stomach is already dangerously close to snapping again.

“Da-Daddy,” you moan, completely lost in your pleasure.

He pauses above you with his cock still fully sheathed in your dripping cunt, his head snapping up off your shoulder to look into your eyes, his brow furrowing. “What did you just call me?”

It takes a second for your mind to process what you just said. His hips being completely still as his cock continues to stretch you is not helping your brain processes. 

And then it hits you, why did you just say that, oh no. “I’m sorry it slipped out — I’m so —” you panic, stopping when you realize he is shaking his head with a gleam in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

Daichi angles his hips before thrusting into you at an even harder and rougher pace. “Say it again,” he commands, each word accentuated by a heavy thrust.

You bite your lip as the pleasure takes over you once again as he pounds into you. The sheer strength he has is evident in the power behind each thrust.

You can't help yourself when you start babbling out a mixture of his name and new nickname, the two words becoming interchangeable on your tongue and streaming together. 

Daichi releases your hands so that he can get a better grip on your hips, pounding into you without abandon. His eyes go dark as he loses himself in the feeling of your cunt, so soft and pliant and warm all around him. All his.

He can feel you tensing around him, squeezing his soul out of his body as his cock begs for release.

He speaks through his teeth as his whole body is clenching, hold out his orgasm for you, "Fucking cum on my cock baby girl. I need to feel it."

He lets out a primal growl as you feel the pressure inside you release as your pussy milks his cock. Your orgasm crashing through you, forcing you to grip onto his strong shoulders, leaving dark circles that will eventually turn into bruises into his perfect skin. 

You cry out for him, chanting his name as your vision clouds over, and you swear you can see the universe unfolding and refolding in on itself as your body is propelled through time and space.

Your mind is hazy as your muscles twitch. Daichi is still pounding into you, babbling about how much of a good girl you are and how much he's going to fill you up, claim you as his. 

Your body is still shaking with pleasure when you feel Daichi’s thrusts start to waver, your pulsating walls still pulling him even deeper until he lets out a moan of your name above you. His eyes lock with yours as he spills his cum inside you, filling you up completely until it seeps out around his cock.

You both are panting as Daichi leans down to kiss you, his soft lips a stark contrast to the pounding your cunt just received. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his weight on top of you and keeping him sheathed inside you. 

The stars shine down on you in their infinite beauty and you wish you could stay in this moment forever with him, breathing in his scent, the two of your souls merged into one, with your breathing in sync. All you need is him, you think, only him and you could be happy forever.

Daichi wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He looks down at your sleeping form on his chest and debates on whether or not he should move you to turn the assault of buzzing off. 

When his phone quiets down, he lets out a small sigh of relief.

After last night on the roof, the two of you managed to sneak to his room without anyone seeing you. Kuroo and Bokuto almost caught the two of you, but with women on each of their arms, they were a little too preoccupied trying to navigate through the mansion to pay attention to you and Daichi hiding in the shadows, giggling at their antics. 

After the two of you got cleaned up, you both got comfortable under the covers, talking the night away, exchanging small kisses and playful jabs before you fell asleep on his chest.

He looks back down at you, and you look so cute sleeping in one of his shirts, the little bit of drool pooling on his chest is adorable and he wishes his phone was closer so he could take a photo.

The incessant buzzing starts again and he lets out a small curse. 

Whoever is calling him must really need him. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your shampoo before he very slowly moves your sleeping body off him.

He grabs his phone off the nightstand before heading to the bathroom, not wanting to disturb your sleep with whatever this phone call is.

Finally looking down at the caller ID, he wishes he would have just thrown his phone out the window but nevertheless, he answers after letting out a big sigh. 

“Dad, what do you need?”

His father talks to him through the phone before Daichi has heard enough. He says one phrase to his dad before hanging up the phone and turning his phone off and slamming it on the counter.

“Drop it, I am not meeting with Hime.”

the blonde sitting on issei’s lap? that was me uwu

who wants a part 2? i couldnt finish the other half in time for the deadline🙏 please forgive me 

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