#if this was an actual nice ask though thanks :)

[terrestrialnoob]

"John." Bruce said with so much accusation he could see the man suppress a flinch. The toddler in front of them started to crawl to the edge of the table. Bruce reached his hand out and stopped the child. It stared at his hand in fascination before reaching out and touching it curiously.

"Bats..." John wanted to deflect, but Bruce stared at him until he cracked. "The texts said it- he?- was forged in lightning on the edge of life and death. That's not- I don't know how in the seven hells that could make a baby. An adult wouldn't be able to survive what that implies."

"But that's what we have." Bruce said, the baby had tried to put his gauntlet in his mouth, but Bruce had a small, soft dog toy in his utility belt, clean and safe for a toddler to chew on.

"Yeah, I think I need to do more research... A lot more." John said and stood up. "You don't mind taken care of him, yeah? I mean, I wouldn't trust me with a baby."

"I want a copy of all your research so far and to be kept updated on all new information." Bruce said. He had his own list of things to help figure out what the toddler was. First thing he was going to do when he got home was a DNA test.

John nodded stiffly and walked out of the room like a man on a mission. Bruce was thankful the man was taking this seriously.

"Oh, this is going to be great!" Dick said leaning in where John had been. "A little brother I can finally have a good first impression on."

"Aren't you Robin's favorite?" Bruce asked as Dick offered his hand to the toddler like he would a new pet.

"Not at first." Dick said as the toddler ignored him in favor of the toy. "You remember how we were all stunned when he showed up and interacting with him had a real learning curve."

"Red Ro-"

"Neither of us were in a good headspace when we first met him."

Bruce sighed, he didn't bring up Jason, but, "Black Bat?"

"Sister." Dick answered quickly. "This time, I'm going to be nice right from the start."

"So does this mean no burgers?" Barry asked with a sigh.

Clark answered for him, "B probably wants to take the kid somewhere safe. The three of us can still go though."

Barry smiled, but Bruce knew it wasn't the same when he wasn't there. Sure, Barry, Clark, and Diana got along- actually were real friends who enjoyed each other's company. But Barry was looking forward to sharing work stories Bruce. Clark could keep up with the technical aspects, and Diana valued his knowledge, but Bruce was actually interested in it.

Clark was the least disappointed since he and Bruce hung out far more out of costume. Diana was right in the middle, wanting to spend time with her friends, but she values duty enough she would never ask Bruce to put herself over a child.

Diana shook her head and laughed at Bruce. "I do believe this means you have more children than friends."

Bruce gave her a look that meant, "yeah, you're right but it's rude to say so."

"Hey, Bats, can I have a word?" John asked as everyone started filling out of the meeting room.

Batman gave him the side eye. "You don't usually come to meetings."

John raised his hands in surrender. "Caught me, I'm really here to ask you a favor."

Batman looked over by the door, where it looked like Superman, Wonder Woman, and the Flash were there waiting for him. But, he turned back to John and asked "What do you want?"

John tried not to cringe at the tone in his voice, telling himself that's just what a tired after meeting Batman sounded like. "I need help with a puzzle box."

John pulled said box out of his coat pocket and held it up for Batman to take, but the man examined it closely without touching it. "What's in it?"

"A world-ending weapon, probably. There's like, a 10% chance it's a world-ending monster." John helpfully provided.

"And you want to open it..."

"Yeah..." John sighed then explained, "It's part of a pair, with this-" John pulled a gear shaped dial puzzle out of his pocket. "But, since I solved this one, that one wont work for me."

"Why do you want to open it?"

"Because, whoever solves the puzzles control it."

"But you've been magically locked out of solving this one." Batman pointed at the box still in John's hand.

"Yeah, so I need someone good at solving puzzles -you- and who's dabbled enough in magic to effect the box -you again- and who I trust not to use whatever's in it to destroy the world."

Batman gave him the patented bat-interrogation glare. "You still haven't explained why you want to release this weapon."

"It's a fail safe. Like the two keys thing governments put in front of their nuclear bombs. According to the texts I read, this isn't the only way to release the whatever-it-is, but once we solve both these puzzles, you and I will have control of it and absolutely no one else can get it." John wiggled the box at Batman. "We do this now, we don't have to pray I can track down all the alternate methods, and neither of us can use it without the other's permission."

Batman closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're certain this is the best method to ensure the safety of as many people as possible?"

"Yep."

"And you're certain I'm the right person you want as the other half of your fail safe? Not another magic user?"

"I feel the degree of separation will be useful in determining what situations call for using a world-ending weapon."

Batman let another deep sigh and took the puzzle box.

"You two staying late?" Superman asked as John and Batman sat back down at the table. Him, Wonder Woman, and the Flash came over to check on them.

"Sorry, we can get dinner together another time." Batman said without taking his eyes off the box. Each side had nine squares, each with a rune on them that glowed when pressed. There was a pattern, John was sure, but after he'd solved the dial puzzle, the runes where blurred and the squares didn't light up when he pressed them.

"How long do you think your puzzle thing will take?" Flash asked, looking over Batman's shoulder as he seemed to solve the puzzle quickly. Or so John hoped, again, he couldn't actually see what kind of progress Bats was having.

"Ten minutes, tops." Nightwing interrupted. Batman did glance at him, but then went right back to work on the box. "We still have plenty of time to go to Bobby's before closing."

"I thought you had better things to do?" Superman asked.

"And pass up on burgers with you? Never." Nightwing said with a wink. "Is John joining us when this is done?"

"I'll have to take whatever comes out of the box back to the house of Mystery." John said, though burgers did sound good at the moment.

Silence lapsed into the room as they watched Batman work. And ten minutes later, it was done. The puzzle box glowed and one of it's faces folded into itself, leaving a hole shaped just like the gear puzzle. Batman held it out and John dropped the gear into it. The room filled with a bright flash, and once it faded, sitting on the conference table between John and Batman was a toddler. He had black hair and bright blue eyes and freckles scattered across his face. He reached out a little hand towards them and started babbling.

"Fuck."

[no-144444]

confronting- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: a confrontation in a hotel room doesn't go so well thanks to Franco's loud mouth...

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

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Entertaining the idea of dating Oscar when you knew you’d be gone at the end of the season wasn’t fair. He deserved someone who’d be there for every race, be there for him. You weren’t that person. You weren’t the person anyone should want, you just weren’t like that. 

Qatar rolled around and Oscar won the Sprint, and he was P3 in the race. You were meant to do the interviews. He knew that. That’s why he frowned when he was met with Jenson’s face at the end of the race. 

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, not holding the microphone up to his mouth. 

Jenson smirked. “Missing her?”

Oscar nodded. 

“She’s with Franco, he was pretty upset after the crash.”

“Oh,” he nodded, and the interview began. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

It’s not like you were trying to avoid him, it was just… easier that way. And Franco really was quite shaken after the crash, so that part wasn’t a lie either. You just didn’t want to deal with all of the shit the media and people online would give the two of you. You just wanted a nice, clean break from the world of F1, and the people online who shipped you and Oscar would never let that happen. It was upsetting, because he really was a good friend to you, and you thought you were a good friend to him. Maybe it could’ve been something else, if things were different. You sat with Franco, calming him down since he was pretty upset that his second last race of the season was fucked by a silly turn-one incident. 

“What’s going on with you and that model?” you asked. He chuckled. 

“Oh my, you saw it too? It’s so embarrassing,” he sighed. “Even my mother has been asking me about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you laughed at his reaction. “We can talk about anything you want.”

“What’s going on with you and Oscar?” he smirked and your face fell slightly. 

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “We’re friends.”

“Friends?” he pried. “You two seem like more than ‘friends’ to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re not. We’re just friends,” you assured him. 

Franco sat up, leaning closer to you. He was so close his breath was on your cheek, his eyes staring longingly into yours. You knew what he was doing.  “So he wouldn’t mind it if someone kissed you, no?”

You laughed, pushing him back down to his previous position of lying down. “Stop being weird. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He shouldn’t care anyway.”

“Let’s test that,” Franco challenged. “Kiss me in front of him, and then we’ll know. I’ll ask Lando to tell me about it, they’re close, right?”

You sighed, something about it felt a little bit… manipulative. And it’s not like you were looking for Oscar to like you back, he didn’t. That’s what he’d said the last time, it was only a joke, a prank, a mistake. Which was fine with you, of course. It made sense. You couldn’t be there for him while you were supposed to be there for someone else. Someone else on his team. 

Ok, so maybe the move to Indycar isn’t just about Sky starting to cover it. Maybe, they need more European fans, and you have to go over there and sell it to them with a relationship with Pato O’Ward. Maybe McLaren is paying you a lot of money to do that. 

Just maybe though. 

“I can’t do that Franco,” you explained. “It’s not fair. And anyways, I’m kind of… seeing someone.”

“Is it Oscar?!” he questioned. You shook your head. “Lando? Lance? Zhou? Yuki? Who?” “He’s not in F1!” you giggled, watching as Franco freaked out. 

“Who is he?! You have to tell me right now!” he begged, taking your hands. 

“He’s in Indycar, that’s all I’ll tell you,” you smirked and his jaw dropped. 

“Is that why you’re leaving?!” he almost shouted. 

“No! Sky really is just branching out, but yes, it is nice that I’ll actually be able to watch his races,” you chuckled. 

“I’ll miss you,” he frowned. 

“I’ll miss you too,” you chuckled, pulling him in for a hug. “Now, I have to go do my post-race duties, so I’ll see you in Abu Dhabi, alright?”

He frowned even deeper. “Alright,” he mumbled. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me!”

You left the Williams garage with a smile on your face, very much amused by your conversation with Franco. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You pulled up to the media pen, really to meet with Jenson and Nico, your co-hosts this weekend, but they were nowhere to be seen. Regardless, you prepared yourself with the running order. 

Lance, Lando, Max, Checo, Zhou, and Fernando. That’s all you had to get through before you got on a flight to Abu Dhabi the next morning. After another few minutes of waiting, Nico and Jenson showed up, acting slightly strange. They weren't really speaking to you, only with each other. It’s not like they were excluding you, just… not asking for your input. They seemed guilty too. 

Lance, Lando, Max, and Checo were all fine, polite and out of there quickly. Oscar didn’t show up. Unsurprising, as you had been avoiding him. Zhou and Fernando went by in a flash, and you were back to your hotel by 2am. 

When you walked into your hotel, you were not expecting to see Oscar Piastri standing outside your door. 

Holy shit. You were so astronomically fucked. 

“What are you doing here?” you questioned. He turned to you. 

He cleared his throat. He’d been thinking of a response to that question since the second he’d started waiting outside for you. What was he doing? This was insane. His plan was to make you stay, but he was much too upset to talk rationally when he got the text from Franco about you seeing an Indycar driver. Honestly, it crushed him. He genuinely thought you’d liked him. “I wanted to… talk? Or something, just to gauge what the fuck is going on here,” he was getting heated, and you understood he was probably angry with you, and it’s not like he didn’t have a reason. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, opening your hotel room door and letting him inside. 

“You’re going to Indycar?” he questioned. “What the fuck?”  

You gulped, hard. “Yeah?” 

“Why?” he demanded. “What does Indycar have that F1 doesn’t? F1 is faster cars, faster drivers, more money, more races, more countries, more-”

“Oscar! Did it ever occur to you that this wasn’t my fucking choice?!” you shouted over him. Silence. “Indycar doesn’t have Sky coverage, but Europeans are interested in the sport and they need a known interviewer to go there and make it easier to sell it to people, and I got picked. That’s it.” 

“So it has nothing to do with whatever Indycar driver you’re fucking?” he scoffed. Your face fell. Your eyes fell to the hardwood floor beneath your feet. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face soured and you looked up again, offended. Who did he think he was? He had no say in your life at all. You’d hated him for 2 years, and you had no real reason to, now you had one. “I owe you nothing Oscar. I’m an adult in a consenting relationship, and yes he’s in Indycar, is that a crime?” 

“Is that why you’re going over there?” he asked, stepping closer to you. You could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. “Or are you running away from something here?” 

“Fuck you,” you pushed him back. This wasn't the Oscar you knew. He was different, angry, mean, and rude. You owed him nothing. “Get out.” 

He nodded, and left without another word. 

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mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

taglist:

@anotherapollokid @chelseyyouraverageluigi @suns3treading @patis643 @trees-are-books @stressed-cherry @revrse @awenthealchemist @imdyinghelpplease @successfulgarlic81

[marauder-misprint]

hi! can you do something with the marauders preferably sirius or james where the reader has constantly been like kind of invisible her whole life and spoken over and in the end has just stopped speaking up much ? thankyou <33 ( no pressure though! )

Hi! Thank you for this request ❤︎ Not sure how I feel about the quality of this. I definitely feel like it's not James enough, but it is what it is. Or maybe it's the lack of interactions with the rest of the Marauders that has me feeling like this? Idk. (It also might be because I'm not a huge James writer? Who knows?)

ANYWAYS! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Potions partner

James Potter x reader

4.6k words

cw: fluff, yapper!James

You’re not sure which is more peculiar: the story you’re telling or the fact that multiple people are listening to you tell it. 

It had happened during Care of Magical Creatures class that morning. Professor Kettleburn was trying to settle an aggravated Thestral and was failing horribly to the point where he dismissed class urgently. You were one of the few students who could actually see the beast so your retelling of the event was more descriptive than the rest of the class’. 

But what wasn’t peculiar was when a boy sat down a few seats away from you with complaints about the latest Transfiguration essay and all the attention that had been on you and your story moved on. Was the Thestral more interesting? Yes. But you were you, a background character in your own life. People didn’t pay attention to you if there was something else going on.  

You sigh and turn your attention to the food on your plate. You’ve barely touched it since you were talking for once. Now that attention has left you like it always does, you’re able to eat. It had been nice to feel heard, even if just for a few minutes. You never did hold people’s attention for long. You were just something to fill the background, nothing special to see. And often you weren’t seen. There were too many times for you to count when someone brushes past you, accidentally knocking you to the ground and they barely give you “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” 

In short, you weren’t seen and you weren’t heard. 

It wasn’t just your classmates either. It seemed like once a week, a professor would scan the classroom as they marked who was in attendance and they’d ask if you were there. You always were. You’d raise your hand and wave it around. Sometimes, even with that, they’d miss you until your friend spoke up and said that, yes, you were, in fact, in class. You weren’t sure how the professors managed to skip over you so much, but they did. Maybe it was because you weren’t an extreme. Your grades weren’t horrible enough to be of concern, nor were they exceptional enough to be used as examples and to earn house points. 

That afternoon in Potions, one of your least favorite things happened. Professor Slughorn announced a partnered-project.

“If everyone could get into pairs please! We will be working on brewing Felix Felicis and there will be various assignments with this. Pick someone you will be able to focus with. Yes, this means that Potter and Black cannot be partners.”

A pair of groans erupt from the back of the room. 

“I got dibs on Moony,” Sirius says.

James groans again, scanning the room. Lily had picked Mary. Marlene and Peter didn’t continue with Potions in N.E.W.T. level. People got into pairs quickly. You had immediately turned toward Emmeline. She was usually kind to you, but she paired with Benjy Fenwick. Your options dwindled fast. 

“Alright, anyone without a partner?” Slughorn asks the class as the room began to settle down. 

You and James both raise your hands. 

“Alright, you two are paired then. Here is the first assignment…”

You glance at James and cringe internally. Loud, boisterous James was your partner for the foreseeable future. Slughorn hadn’t given a timeframe for how long these assignments would be. You try to listen to everything that he’s saying about the first assignment, but it’s difficult when you’re dreading the assignment before it’s even really begun. 

After class ends, you approach James.

“Erm, I’ll do the essay if you want to do the first part of the potion?” you offer, hugging your books tight to your chest. 

“Huh? Oh, for the project. The essay’s long, don’t you want to work together on it?” James replies.

“I don’t-” you start to say.

Sirius interrupts you. “Mate, the girl’s just offered you the easy way out of the project. Take it and run.” 

You press your lips into a thin line, nod and walk away. Sirius got it. You’d split the project into separate pieces as much as you could. Plus, did Mr. Popular really want to be seen with someone as quiet and invisible as you? You didn’t think so. As you made your way to your next class, you assumed that was the end of the conversation. 

It wasn’t.

James finds you in the library after dinner. He’s slightly out of breath as he places his things on the table.

“You’re a hard one to find,” he says, taking a seat across from you.

You don’t say anything. In fact, you barely spare him a glance. 

“I wanted to talk to you about the Potions project,” he continues as he takes out homework for a different class. “It’s a multiple part project. It’s very interconnected, not something we can split down the middle and work on separately.”

He stops talking and waits for you to respond. You still don’t look up. You just work on your Herbology assignment.

“You… you are my partner for Potions, right?” he asks, running a hand through already-messy hair. “That’d be embarrassing if I just sat down across from the wrong girl…”

“We’re partners,” you whisper, more to your parchment than James.

“Great. So I’m at the right table! Like I was saying, you can’t do the entire essay and have me do all the brewing. I mean, we can do that. Like you write and I actually brew, which is fine. But we have to meet up to work on it, you know? Can’t do one part without the other.” 

“I prefer to work alone,” you say. “So take my offer or do it all by yourself.”

James’ eyes narrow. 

“That’s not how partner projects work.”

You raise your eyes to meet his for the first time since he sat down. Pretty. You sigh and look back at your assignment. You have work to get done. You hope that James will get the message, accept your terms and leave you alone. Instead, he starts to work on an essay for Astronomy.

“Do you study at this table often?” he asks nonchalantly. 

“Mhmm,” you hum. 

Part of you wants to ask why he’s asking. What’s it to him that you work at that table practically like clockwork? 

“This a daily thing or weekly? Every other day? Multiple times a day?” 

“Whenever I have assignments,” you answer, although it's a very non-answer. When didn’t you have homework as a sixth year? 

Every teacher assigned endless work to prepare you for the incoming exams. You were to be prepared and the way to prepare you was to assign work. 

“So you’re here every second of every day, got it,” James says cheekily. 

A quick glance at him reveals a smirk playing on his lips. Despite his quill hovering about parchment, he’s watching you, scanning your face for some kind of reaction. Something more than the quiet, short answers you’ve responded with so far. It’s a change of pace for James. Everyone wants to talk to him. He can talk with anyone about anything. It’s a gift that he and Sirius share. You, on the other hand, aren’t talking and it’s strange to James. Even Lily talks more when she’s shooting down his advances. 

“Do you need help with that for Sprout?” James offers, confident that he can get you to talk more. “I finished it over lunch.”

You shake your head. James frowns, having been hoping for a verbal answer. He gives up trying to get you to talk for the evening, although he doesn’t leave your table. The two of you work in tandem for a few hours. James is far more uncomfortable with the silence between you than you are. It’s something you’re used to, and even if James had decided to ramble on about something, you would’ve managed to get the same amount of work done. James was used to noise around him, even in the library. With friends like his, quiet work time didn’t exist. 

The next day James tries to say hi to you during the few classes that you share. You offer a small smile or a quiet ‘hello’ in response. You never stop and talk to him beyond that, which bothers him. You were partners for a project that would inevitably force you to spend some time together. Why didn’t you bother trying to get to know him at all? 

“That’s your Potions partner, right?” Sirius asks as you walk away from them for the fourth time. “The one you got stuck with?”

“Yeah. Clearly doesn’t talk much,” James answers, watching you go and wordlessly sit down next to a Hufflepuff. He runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly.

“Maybe she just doesn’t know you? Or like you,” Peter says.

“What do you mean, Wormtail?” James asks. 

“You’re not friends with everyone and some people don’t talk to people they don’t like.” Peter said it like it should’ve been common sense. 

“But how can she not like me if she doesn’t know me? Won’t even try to know me? I sat with her for hours last night and I got maybe five sentences out of her!”

“You were in the library,” Remus snorts. “Some people respect the library’s quiet.”

“I know how to whisper!” 

The other three boys burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. James Potter whispering was more akin to a stage whisper. So, not a whisper. He was a loud person. 

Then after dinner, James sits across from you in the library again. 

“Same table. Easier to find,” he says as he takes out his homework. 

Just like yesterday, you don’t respond. You don’t look up. You just continue working. James, however, is more intent on getting you to talk. He tries to think of something that might get your attention. It’s more difficult than he originally imagined. He didn’t know you. “What’s today’s assignment?” 

“Care of Magical Creatures,” you say, voice barely qualifying as a whisper. 

That got James’ attention more than it should have.

“Were you in class with the rampant Thestral? I heard it was crazy. Can’t imagine dealing with a creature you can’t see!” he asks.

“Professor Kettleburn provoked it. He pulled its wing. It looked overstretched,” you say with certainty. 

Looked.

“Looked?” 

You nod, flipping the page of the book you have open in front of you.

“You can see them? I thought you could only see them if-”

“If you’ve seen death,” you interrupt James. 

He’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You’ve seen death?” James asks. 

He’s certain that he won’t get any work done. Not when you can see Thestrals.

You nod, again. Yesterday you were thrilled to have people’s attention as you recounted the beast mauling Kettleburn with its hooves. Today, you want to get your assignment done so you can return to your dorm. You aren’t sure why James is so curious about it, or why he keeps talking to you. No one ever sits at your table two days in a row.

After you don’t speak, James lets the conversation, if you can call it that, die. He figures that you don’t want to talk about who you’ve seen die. Maybe it was someone close to you. Maybe it was recent and hurt too much to talk about. He tries to focus on his work, but he was right in his assumption that he wouldn’t get work done. Even if you weren’t talking, James found you fascinating. His eyes keep drifting up to watch you work. 

He breaks the silence after a while. “Can we work on that Potions essay tomorrow? I’m fine with brewing the potion, but we’ll work on the essay together.” 

You sigh yet you nod all the same. 

“Great!” 

And with that, James leaves you alone. 

The next day feels the same as the last. James says hi to you whenever he sees you, earning the same responses from you. There’s something nice about him taking the time to say  hi to you when most of your classmates barely acknowledge your existence. Still, he’s only your partner in Potions and he didn’t choose to be your partner. It just happened because Slughorn said he couldn’t be with Sirius. 

When James finds you in the library after dinner at your usual table, he’s lugging his cauldron with him. You stare as he sets it up next to the table, taking out a small collection of ingredients.

“Bit rough getting this past Madam Pince,” he tells you, seeing that he managed to catch your attention for once. “But I figured, if we’re working on the essay right now, might as well work on the potion too, right?” 

You open your mouth as if to speak but nothing comes out. You gape like a fish out of water. 

“You do have your Potions stuff with you, yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah… I do…” 

You move your unfinished Care of Magical Creatures assignment off to the side. You’d work on it more after James left. Or at least, whenever he was done insisting on this ‘working together’ thing. 

“Right, so Slughorn wants the first portion of Felix. And the essay is on the…” James says while looking over his scribbled notes.

“Essay is on the ingredients’ effect on the coloring. Pretty self-explanatory if you ask me,” you finish for him.

“How do you mean?” 

You try not to laugh at James. 

“Please, occamy and ashwinder eggs? Common rue? Shiny, shiny, yellow. It’s basic color theory.” 

“Huh,” is all James says for a moment. Then he follows with, “That’s why you offered to do all the writing, isn’t it!” 

“More like I thought you wouldn’t be bothered to work with me.” 

James gasps, putting his hand over his heart like you brutally offended him. “Ouch, sweetheart!” 

“Just get to brewing, Potter.”

And that’s the last that you spoke that evening. You worked intently on the essay as James brewed the potion. For some time, the sound between you was the crackling of the fire under James’ cauldron. But then he started talking. At first it was about the potion. He told you about everything he did and the immediate effects, every change of color and consistency. You didn’t need the commentary, although you used it to ensure that James was doing everything correctly. His descriptions matched what you had written. 

Then he reached the point where the potion needed to simmer, James started talking about quidditch. You humor him for a while, listening to him ramble about what you easily assume is his favorite topic. He talked about more than just the Gryffindor team. He talked about the different tactics he’d seen the other houses use this year and how well they executed them, how they compared to the professional teams and how each of those teams were doing this year. Then he went on a tangent about the new rules and regulations that were passed recently and how they affected the game. He went on for a while.

“Do you want to read this or not?” you ask with some snap to your voice. 

You slid the finished essay across the table toward James. You had written the entire thing as he brewed, only a testament to why you thought that partner part of the project was pointless. But if he wanted to ‘work together,’ you figure the least you could do was have him look over your work. 

“Oh, yes! Let me see,” he mumbles as he takes the parchment from you. 

You resume work on your Magical Creatures assignment. It takes James a few minutes to look over the whole thing. You had put a little extra effort into writing it since it was going to be James’ grade as well. It was one thing if your own work was subpar but when someone else got brought into the equation, you tried a little harder.

“This is great. You really did the whole thing while I brewed?”

You nod.

“You’re fantastic!” You feel a heat creep up your neck at the compliment. It was just an essay.

“Okay, so we have the potion and the essay for the first deadline! Great! I’ll clean up and get out of your hair. But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he asks, a wide smile on his face.

You nod again.

Over the next week, James continues to meet up with you in the library. He’s grateful that you never change tables. That at least means you don’t mind too much that he’s joining you. With each day, he tries to get you to talk. He tries topic after topic, hoping to come across one that you wouldn’t mind opening up a bit for. What James doesn’t know is that you’ve trained yourself to limit your responses. Even if someone asked about your deepest interest, you’d barely let on that you knew everything about it. 

Then, just as you’re getting used to James constantly being at your table, he says something that throws you off.

“I won’t be here tomorrow.”

You want to respond with “Okay?” He wasn’t required to do homework for you after dinner every day. He wasn’t obligated to sit at your table. You still didn’t even really consider him your friend.

“We got the quidditch pitch reserved for a last minute practice before Saturday’s match,” he says, pausing to watch your face with curiosity. If there was a change in your expression, he’d see it. There was no change. “You’re coming to the match on Saturday, right?”

There was hope in his voice. Like he really wanted to make sure that you’d be in the stands for the game. Almost like he wanted to know if you’d be watching him, and just maybe, cheering for him. 

You blink your eyes slowly.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“Oh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Depends on how much work I get done, I guess.”

“Stay hard at work then, will you? I’d like you to be there. Heard it’s going to be a good match,” he says, his grin audible in his voice. 

It makes you look up at him rather than at the parchment in front of you. 

“Heard it’s going to be good?” you repeat back to him. “Wouldn’t you say that about every match you’re in?”

“I mean, yeah, but Saturday’s especially.” 

“We’ll see, Potter.”

“You’ll only see if you go.”

You flex your eyebrows and turn back to your assignment. James smiles to himself as he begins to work again too. Something about your demeanor made him think that you would show up. He wasn’t really sure why he cared if you did, but there was something about you. He had grown to like the quiet air that you maintained. He didn’t mind that you didn’t talk much, despite his desperate attempts to get you to talk. You kind of reminded him of Remus during first year, if he was being honest. And that means that you had the promise of becoming a very dear friend. 

You would be lying if you didn’t work extra hard the next evening while James was at practice. You didn’t promise anything but you felt that you owed it to James to at least try to be at a point where you could justify going to the match. You went to a handful of them. You could follow along enough with the game, not that it mattered. Balls were tossed around, some were hit and there was a super small one that only two players tried to catch. That’s about all you needed to know. 

Still, you don’t know why you felt the need to show up for James. It wasn’t like he would be able to see you in the sea of students. It was one thing to find you in the library. It was another to spot you from a broom while you were surrounded by hundreds of others pressed together and bundled up against the biting wind. You even figured that you could just tell James that you went, without actually going, and he wouldn’t know the difference. 

However, when morning came, you were bundling up. You join the masses heading to the pitch. You listen to the excited chatter about how epic the match is going to be. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin after all, which always made for a good match being the natural rivals that they were. You stood pressed between your friend and one of her closer friends. They cheer louder than you did. You were more focused on trying to keep up with the game as your mind continuously drifts to James. As your mind drifts, so do your eyes. You’re confident that you watched James for at least 90% of the match. Which shouldn’t be too shocking given the amount of times he was in the midst of the action. You swore he had his hands on the quaffle during every play. 

And then something happened that made your heart stop.

You swore James’ eyes found yours and then he flashed you a smile. All before proceeding to score again. Almost as if he was doing it just for you. 

Which was ridiculous. He was just your Potions partner who happened to be studying a lot with you as of recently. 

But still. He found you, in the middle of the crowd, where you should have been as invisible as you always were. 

How? How did he see you? It’s all you could think of for the last few minutes of the game. You were so in your own head that you missed the Gryffindor seeker catching the snitch, ending the game and sealing the win for them. You let your friend drag you out of the stands as students filled the pitch. Except you didn’t follow her into the pitch. You started down the path back towards the castle, but you didn’t make it far. 

The sun was shining brightly and the air wasn’t too frigid once you were hundreds of feet into the air. You veer from the path and find a nice patch of grass to sit down on. Some sunshine wouldn’t hurt. An occasional shadow passed over your face as clouds drifted across the sky. Each shadow was only momentary, a brief chill until it moved on.

Until one shadow didn’t move on. You waited a minute before opening your eyes to see how big this cloud was.

The cloud in question? James Potter. James Potter still in his quidditch uniform and sporting a smile so bright it could rival the sun itself. And he was standing in front of you.

“Potter,” you say shortly. 

“Didn’t see you on the pitch after the match,” he replies, sitting down across from you.

You don’t say anything. What was there to say?

“I was hoping to see you on the pitch. Maybe get a congratulations on the win?” he says with a tilt of his head. 

“You played well.” That was as close to a congratulations as he was going to get from you. 

“Did you see the goal I scored for you?” 

You cough. “For me?” 

“Well, yes. I swore I made eye contact with you before I did it.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Or did I look at a different pretty girl?” 

You swallow thickly. “No, you, erm, that was me.”

“Ah, then yes. For you. My pretty Potions partner.”

If your heart had stopped in the stands, it must’ve turned into stone now. There was no way that James just called you his pretty Potions partner. 

“That’s… ah… that’s alliteration,” you manage to say despite your mouth suddenly becoming drier than the desert. 

James tilts his head curiously. 

“I did want to thank you,” he says. “For coming to the match. I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Because of homework, like you said. But I hoped you’d come.” He pauses for a moment. “Did you like it?”

“The-the match or you scoring… for me?” you ask, the end of your question feeling foreign in your mouth. 

People didn’t score goals for you. That didn’t happen. You were barely noticed. You were spoken over. You were forgotten about because you offered so little to conversation and friendships. 

“Erm, both, I suppose.” 

“The match was entertaining. Definitely a step from Binn’s lectures.” 

James laughs. It was a delightfully warm sound that draws the attention of students headed to the castle. 

“You scoring… for… me…” you continue, the words still feeling odd to you, “was… nice, I guess. Unexpected though.” 

James nods, accepting your commentary. He understands why it came across as unexpected. It wasn’t like he had flirted with you in the library. He hadn’t asked you to Hogsmeade or a picnic or even for a measly walk through the corridors together. 

“I suppose I did this a bit backwards, haven’t I?” he chuckles.

“Did what?” you ask.

“The fact that you have to ask…” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his windswept hair. “I think I want to ask you out.”

Your eyes go wide and a blush tints your cheeks pink. Your heart has been shocked back to life and is working overtime.

“You think?” you ask once you’re able to say words. 

“Okay, well, I do. I want to ask you out. I’m just not sure… if I should? Would you say yes if I did?”

You’re frozen in shock. He wants to ask you out. He grows increasingly nervous when you don’t respond.

“You don’t talk much and you seem to take your studies seriously. You remind me of Remus. You know Remus Lupin, right? Good, good friend of mine. And I think you’re rather pretty. So the combination of both, I want to see if we, you know, work together,” he says all too quickly. “And now I’ve gone and scored a goal for you, which I know most people usually save for after they’ve gone steady with someone or if they’re heavily chatting them up, but you don’t seem like the kind of person to appreciate a proper chatting up so…” He took a sharp breath. “Whatdoyousay?”

You continue to stare at James. It’s a lot. You’re not really sure when he started feeling all of this and you don’t know how to express that. You also don’t know how you managed to catch his eye. 

“Can I, ahem, get a nod or something? You, me, butterbeers next weekend?”

You nod slowly and that brings a brilliant grin to James’ face. 

“And I’ll see you in the library all week, yeah? Can’t be falling behind in our assignments, can we?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Same table.”

“And there’s a party in the Gryffindor Common Room later, if you want to go. I don’t know if that’s your scene or not, but I’ll be there. Wouldn’t mind seeing you there. But only if you’re up to it.”

You nod, but then realize that he might take that as you agreeing that you’ll go to the party. 

“Maybe. I… I need to work on Astronomy but… I’ll consider it.”

His grin gets impossibly wider and he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Then he stands up and holds out a hand to help you up.

“Then let’s get you back to the castle. Can’t work on your Astronomy if you’re out here.” 

You take his hand and let him lead you inside. Something about James inviting you places makes you actually want to show up, even if a Gryffindor quidditch party is completely out of your comfort zone. 

[neeeooon]

Hey Elle!!! 😚🫶May I request bllk boys (Nagi, Rin, Sae, Bachira, Shidou) with s/o who's rlly into anime, cosplay, spends all their money on figurines, merch etc and makes them go to conventions with them!!! 🤸🏼‍♀️ love your writing!

yesssss LMAO okay i had fun w thiss thank you sm for the request!!! 💛💛

when you’re an anime fan ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

nagi seishiro

-> he doesn’t like the fact that he has to share you with your dozens and dozens of anime plushies

-> “nagi! you’re crushing mr. sakamoto!!” “what’s that?” “?! please move so he can breathe :)” he decides not to fight you on this. “.. okay.”

-> though nagi doesn’t quite understand your obsession with spending money on little figures and plushies of cartoon characters, he works around it. it’s easier to spend a little time looking for a clear spot than upset you after moving something he wasn’t supposed to

-> until he comes over one day to find a large snorlax plush in his usually empty spot on your bed

-> “.. is this your way of telling me to move?” “what? no, it’s for you! your room is like a prison cell, babe. you need something to make it more personal. plus, he looks just like you!”

-> nagi doesn’t see it, but he sleeps with that damn snorlax plush every night he spends away from you <3

itoshi rin

-> “y/n? put the phone down…” “just one click, rin. one click and it’s all mine.” “y/n, so you really need twenty-six figures of the same four characters..?” “yes.” “really?” “… maybe?”

-> he manages to convince you to give him the phone so you don’t spend your entire paycheck on anime merchandise

-> he’ll stay up late watching the shows with you, and he actually follows along with and likes quite a bit of them. not enough to blow his entire paycheck, but enough

-> “i think we should be meruem and komugi from hxh for halloween.” “… but don’t they d—“ “DONT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”

-> once you promise to stop crippling your bank account, he agrees to dress up with you <3

itoshi sae

-> bro is not impressed

-> he can’t even pretend to enjoy himself as you drag him around the merch store, grumbling about how ugly and expensive everything is

-> you ignore him and fill your little basket with mangas and posters for your room, but when it comes down to it, sae hands over his card at checkout before you have the chance

-> “?? i thought you said everything here is ugly and expensive?” “oh, it is. i don’t want you spending your money on ugly things, y/n.” you smile at his excuse and kiss his cheek

-> he’s not ecstatic at the cost of everything, but sae doesn’t complain about it to you, either. he even helps you hand your posters at home (those, he does insult)

-> “why does that guy have such big ears?” “be nice to geto!! those are his earrings.” “he looks like a weirdo.” “leave him be 😭”

bachira meguru

-> you better believe he’s feeding your addiction

-> “ooh, y/n, look at this one!! do you have this one?” “i’ve been looking everywhere for that character! how did you find it?” “my monster told me to check the back shelf..”

-> keeps a full, detailed list of every anime you mention starting or liking so he can surprise you with merch

-> “y/n, look! i made a hakura sakura keychain for you!!” “you made it?! i love it!! but what’s the occasion..?” “i just felt like making something for you ☺️” you may have teared up a bit

shidou ryusei

-> you were planning to cosplay one of your favorite anime characters, and the costume was going on sale at a convention. thankfully, shidou didn’t fight when you asked him to join you

-> “so, we’re gonna stand in this line for how long again?” “depends on how quickly they wave us through. could be a few hours.” “… let’s fucking do this.”

-> shidou has to body a few people, and you do get escorted out by security, but you get the costume! so you consider the trip a win

-> “you didn’t have to punch that guy for me,” you hum as you dab at your boyfriend’s scabbing knuckles. “he was going to push you out of the way. you wanted it more than he did, and he shouldn’t put hands on someone for a dress.” “you did, though..” “for you. not the costume… it is a cool costume, though.” “i know, right?!”

-> you post photos and videos of yourself all dressed up online, making sure to tag shidou for helping you complete your look <3

[zepskies]

Omg first of all, thanks so much for shouting out As Tradition Dictates, my lovely!! I have more Eomer coming in the near future. 😘

But first *rubs hands together* time to dig into this delectable love triangle...

Dear LORD you didn't have to do me like this from the onset with that opening scene of Butcher. 🥵

No man his age should look that good. 

Correct. 👆🏽 Why is it that rugged men in their 40s attract me more than men my own age. 🫠🫠

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

lmfao Eomer, is that you? ("romantasy" ftw! 😏❤️‍🔥)

The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

lol this is one of my favorite aspects of reading/writing in The Boys fandom - everyone's creativity on creating our own fictional supes that cause mayhem for the boys. 😆😆 (Not "a reenactment of the eighth plague" 💀💀💀)

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing.

Can always trust you to give beautiful descriptions of flora and fauna. 🪴💚

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

Sigh. I can deeply relate to that first part, as you know lol.

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

Girl stop torturing me lmfao. (But actually don't stop though) "Big hands" indeed. 🥵

Ben saw straight through her though and I'm living for their dynamic! lol

“He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

Oh how magnanimous of him. 🙄 Like yes, let's all jump (literally) on that opportunity to debase ourselves for his entertainment.

...But of course, there's also that whole ridiculously attractive factor that makes Ben difficult to resist, even though he's a complete asshole loll.

You’d tried the usual things… Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation. Gone completely mute when he asked you a question. Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room. Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

OMFg. That last one is so real! 🤣🤣🤣 I feel for her for real. I wonder how Ben's actually going to help her self-confidence. 💗

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-” Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Awww this melted me so much! She's not in love with him yet, but I think he's gonna bring it out of her on accident with stuff like this loll. Also big surprise on how he said she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. 💚💚 I half-expected him to suggest exactly what she could do for him if she was so inclined. 😆

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.”  What have I gotten myself into?

Oh my God, YESSS. She's in so deep already and I can only imagine where you'll take this next if you choose! I can say for sure that I'd love to see how this little scheme unfolds lol.

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

[rqbossman]

hello, dear mr bossman!

big big fan of your work🥰

i have a question and i’m sorry if it’s been asked already but

have you ever thought of adapting tma into tv series?? feels like it has an amazing potential even though it might be hard to transfer all the podcast loveliness to the screen 🤔

an anthology of interconnected horror stories with a background office drama?? yum yum yum

have a nice day, mr bossman and thank you for making my life a little bit spookier!

Okay I get this question a lot so may as well answer it. Yes, yes we have. Let's just say that covid + writer's strike + LA Burning Down + the streaming wars + actual wars + other drama is making it tricky for anything original to get made unless you do it in-house.

[gffa]

People shouldn't be too hard on Mon!

I absolutely love and is grateful of Freed's understanding and appreciation of the Jedi, apparent in the book, apparent in the interview he'd given for the book:

"For me, the excitement of the time period here, is that I tend to think of 'Star Wars' as a setting with plenty of room for grey area stories and moral ambiguity, but there are very clear lines of good and evil as well. There's no version of 'Star Wars' in which you look at the Emperor and go, 'Well, maybe he had some good ideas.' No, the Emperor is evil. And the Jedi and Luke at their best are good. Everything else exists somewhere in there. This is a period where the remains true but no one really knows that the Emperor is evil.

"As far as the public is concerned, this guy just won the worst war in living memory. The Clone Wars were this horrendous affair and Palpatine has put an end to it. Yes, he's declared himself Emperor but he's not the embodiment of all evil. There's not even a Death Star out there. On the absolute good side, the Jedi have sort of been tarnished in recent years. War scrapes away at the shining morality of any organization."

I think Freed really understands what Lucas meant when he said "The Jedi have been corrupted by this war."

...but I still don't hold it against Mon cause she's going through hell and she spoilerspoilerspoilerspoiler in the later half of the book. I think she's fascinating, wonderful, equally valid character with equally valid viewpoints as Bail within context of their own worlds and experiences in this novel.

The editor of the book said it best:

Bail – knows the truth about Palpatine, the Empire, and the fall of the Jedi. Caught between his commitment to truth and justice at any cost, and the duty he has to the daughter he’s been entrusted to protect.

Mon Mothma – a master politician, who believes – like so many – that opposing Palpatine is part of the regular game of politics. She doesn’t yet realize, Palpatine stood up from the game board years ago, and she’s playing against shadows.

Mon and Bail are allies, but not really friends (at this time). Padme was their link, and now, she’s gone. Where does that leave them?

For Mon and Bail especially, the secrets Bail holds that he cannot reveal leaves a gulf between them. And what does it mean when they find themselves at odds with each other, over truths they cannot speak?

prev anon) I'm talking about their different mindsets and experiences and viewpoints born from those and I'm not excusing Mon's... *spoilers* anyway I hope you enjoy the rest of the book! It's so nice seeing an author like Freed, who usually writes non-force side of sw, handling the jedi with such warmth, understanding and awareness

This was such a reassuring message to get, thank you! I've been avoiding spoilers for the book as best I can, but I'm only a quarter of the way through it and I was wondering how the various themes were going to go, but Freed's interview quotes and your comments have made me glad that I'm picking up what this book is putting down, because that's exactly how I've been reading it. (And why I'm hoping to encourage more people to read it--though, I will give a warning that this book can be uncomfortably prescient about current events in a way that I wouldn't say Alexander Freed Is A Witch, but that can be very hard to read about if you're not in the headspace to deal with a lot of reflections of the dumpster fire we're currently in.) As for Mon, I hope nobody comes down on her for this, because as much as I scream, cry, throw up, etc., over Bail's scenes, in general I lean a bit more towards Mon's way of doing things, because I think her approach is her answer to the question, "But what can actually be truly achieved?" That she is looking at an incredibly shitty situation with only shitty options and asking herself what can she actually get done, what does she have a snowball's chance in hell of success with? And she knows clearing the Jedi's name at this point in time is not on the table, not when there are a million other things that might actually do tangible good for the galaxy. And I don't disagree with that! I love the Jedi more than anyone, but clearing their name isn't more important that, say, trying to stop the Wookiees from being classified as a non-sentient species! Clearing their name isn't important enough to blow all your political capital and having nothing to show for it when there are people who you can help, with a chance that will actually succeed! Bail's idealism isn't stupid, he's incredible and the galaxy needs a shining light like him, it's necessary for the bigger hope for the future, we can't make it through the dark times without bright, shining hope. So even when they don't always think positively of each other, I never get the sense that Bail and Mon don't understand that the other is doing what they think is best. They just disagree on what that is. And it makes sense! Bail knew and was friends with the Jedi! He knows the truth about Palpatine and how important all that Force shit is to what's going on here! Mon is operating with the idea that this is a political battle--and she's not entirely wrong, she's necessary to the recovery of the galaxy, too, just as Luke is necessary to save the day, so too is Leia, and I sort of see that reflected in Bail and Mon's approaches--one is focusing on the mystical and one is focusing on the political and I think both are important here. So, I have nothing but hearts for Mon Mothma and what she's trying to do for the galaxy.

And I don't see them as antagonists here, I see them as two people who look at each other with the understanding that there is deep love and compassion for people in the other, that they want this other person on their side not just for political alliances but because they care, and maybe they want to scream in frustration that the other person can't see what they see, but I don't feel for a second that this is going to end with them anything other than them as friends. Their scene in Rogue One implies she knows about Bail knowing a living Jedi, if not directly knowing about Obi-Wan Kenobi, which isn't something he would tell just anyone. I'm hoping for the same with Saw, there's going to be conflict about their approaches, and I love that that's clearly a theme/why these three characters were chosen as the pillars of this book, that each of them are shown to have their reasons why and that each of them serve a purpose. I scream/cry/throw up more about the Jedi because that's the most fun for me, but I am enthralled with Mon's chapters just as much, the political tightrope she's on, and I would encourage people to read for those aspects just as much as I would encourage them for crying about the Jedi. ANYWAY, EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS BOOK FOR YOURSELF, I'm having fun with the snippets I'm posting, but the book is so much more than those things! It's one of the best SW for rounding out the characters and filling in the transitions between the movies and TV shows, but in a way that keeps the tension and emotional gut-punches despite that we know where it's going. ALSO, MON MOTHMA AND BAIL ORGANA ARE THE BEST, I'M WILLING TO FIGHT THE INTERNET OVER THIS

[dinoandguitar]

"..Coffee?"

Idol!KwonSoonyoung x Staff!Reader

The first time Hoshi saw her, he nearly ran into a wall. It wasn’t dramatic like a slow-motion movie moment, but it sure felt like one.

She was standing near the practice room, listening intently to one of the senior staff members. Her clipboard was tucked under one arm, her head tilted slightly as she nodded along. Then she smiled, small but bright, like it came naturally to her.

Hoshi, mid-step, completely lost focus. One second, he was walking out of the practice room, and the next... BAM!

He smacked right into the doorframe.

"Hyung!" Dino yelped, catching his arm before he could stumble too hard. "Are you okay?" Hoshi barely heard him. His ears were ringing, and not just from the impact. He glanced up quickly, praying that she hadn’t seen..

She had.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, her lips parting like she was about to ask if he was alright. Hoshi panicked. He spun on his heel and speed-walked back inside, slamming the door behind him.

Dino blinked at the now-closed door before turning to the staff members. "Uh… he's fine... I think.."

♡

Over the next few days, Hoshi became painfully aware of her presence. She wasn’t around all the time, but when she was, he turned into a full-on puppy-eager, flustered, and ridiculously obvious about his crush.

"Hyung, you're staring again," Joshua said, nudging him as they sat on the practice room floor.

"I'm not!" Hoshi hissed, even though he absolutely was.

She was across the room, checking something on her clipboard while chatting with another staff member. She looked so calm and professional, and here he was, sweating over her mere existence.

Jeonghan smirked. "You're wagging your tail."

Hoshi shot him a glare. "I do not have a tail."

"You might as well with how excited you get whenever she's near."

Hoshi groaned, dropping his head onto his knees. This was ridiculous. He was Kwon Soonyoung, SEVENTEEN’s performance leader, the energetic one, the confident one. Why was he turning into a shy mess every time she was in the same room?

♡

His crush only got worse when he actually interacted with her. One day, she was passing out water bottles after a long practice session. Hoshi was mid-conversation with Mingyu when she walked up, holding one out to him with a soft smile.

"Here, you looked like you needed this," she said.

Hoshi forgot how to speak.

He stared at the bottle. Then at her. Then back at the bottle.

"Hyung, take it," Mingyu muttered.

Hoshi finally snapped out of it, grabbing the bottle way too quickly. "Thank you!" he blurted out, his voice a little too enthusiastic. She laughed—a soft, amused sound that made his heart go haywire. "No problem," she said before moving on.

Hoshi turned to Mingyu, gripping his arm. "Mingyu-yah. Did you hear that? She laughed at something I said!"

Mingyu looked unimpressed. "She laughed because you were weird."

"Doesn't matter," Hoshi whispered, clutching the water bottle to his chest. "She laughed."

Mingyu sighed. "You're hopeless."

♡

The teasing only got worse when the other members caught on. One evening, Hoshi was lingering near the break room, psyching himself up to talk to her. "Be cool," he told himself under his breath. "Just go in, say hi, and act normal—"

The moment he stepped inside, she turned and smiled. "Oh, hey Hoshi!"

He froze.

His brain blanked.

"Uh-hi! Coffee!" he blurted out. "I mean...you’re drinking coffee. Nice. That’s… great."

She blinked. Then, to his horror, she giggled."Yeah," she said, looking amused. "Do you want some?"

"No!" Hoshi yelped, then immediately regretted it. "I mean, no, I just-I was gonna- um…"

She tilted her head, waiting. Hoshi took a deep breath. Okay, just say it.

"I was wondering if...maybe...you’d like to get coffee with me? Not like this coffee but like outside coffee. With me. Together. If you want."

A long pause.

Then, she smiled. "Are you asking me out?"

Hoshi swallowed. "Yes?"

She laughed, soft and genuine. "I’d love to."

Hoshi blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Really."

He barely managed to hold back a victorious cheer. Instead, he gave a very enthusiastic nod, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Cool! Great! Uh, I’ll text you!" he said, practically vibrating with excitement.

As she walked away, Hoshi turned the corner and immediately collapsed against the wall. His heart was racing. His hands were shaking. His entire body felt like it was on fire.

And as he entered the practice room, he knew he was in for some good teasing by his members. And as embarrassing it will be, Hoshi didn’t even care. Because he had a date with her.

And that was all that mattered.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 034 !

the warm scent of something savory filled your apartment, mingling with the soft hum of the stovetop. you leaned against the counter, watching as sae moved effortlessly in your kitchen, sleeves rolled up, focused on whatever he was making.

"a special meal, just for the special lady," he had said when you asked what he was doing. you hadn't pressed further, just enjoying the rare sight of him doing something so domestic.

"i didn't know you could cook," you mused, propping your chin on your hand.

sae glanced at you, unimpressed. "i'm not useless."

you laughed. "yeah? never said you were, though."

he didn't respond, just plated the dish. it was something simple, but it smelled incredible. setting it in front of you, he nudged the chopsticks toward you.

"eat."

you picked up the chopsticks, taking a bite, without much expectation, but the moment the flavors hit your tongue, your brows lifted in surprise. "this is actually good."

"obviously," he scoffed, but there was the tiniest twitch at the corner of his lips. was he pleased?

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest had nothing to do with the food. there was something oddly endearing about seeing him like this. relaxed, in your space, cooking for you.

"alright, chef itoshi," you teased, taking another bite. "you've officially impressed me."

his eyes flickered to you, acting uninterested, but you caught the way his fingers drummed idly against the counter, like he was holding back a reaction. “took you long enough,” he muttered.

you smiled. “so, what’s the occasion? feeling generous today?”

he tilted his head. “you snuck out of the lv fashion show just to hang out with me. i figured i should at least feed you.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “in my own apartment? wasn't this your idea? is this your way of saying thank you?”

“sure,” he said, though his tone was too casual, like he didn’t want to confirm or deny it outright. typical sae.

you shook your head, amused, and nudged the plate toward him. “well, since you cooked, you should eat too.”

he raised an eyebrow, hesitating for just a moment before finally sitting down next to you. without a word, he picked up his own chopsticks and took a bite, chewing slowly.

but you caught it, that slight nod of approval, the way he barely hummed under his breath.

you smiled. “good?”

he shot you a flat look. “obviously.”

the two of you ate in a quiet rhythm, the occasional clink of chopsticks against plates the only sound breaking the stillness of your apartment.

it was… nice. surprisingly so.

you hadn’t expected to feel this comfortable with him, but something about tonight felt different.

and then, without realizing it, you found yourself just watching him.

the way his lashes cast faint shadows against his skin, the way he moved with that same effortless precision he had on the field. even something as simple as eating. he made it look composed. but here, in the glow of your kitchen, with the faint scent of food lingering in the air, he seemed more human. less of the unreachable prodigy the world saw him as, and more of just sae.

and that thought lingered a little too long.

because if you let yourself think about it, really think about it, you’d have to admit that maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on him.

after dinner, the two of you ended up on the couch, the weight of the night settling into something easy, something almost peaceful. the only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. sae sat beside you, legs stretched out, his arm lazily draped along the back of the couch. his presence was familiar, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

you tried to ignore it.

you tried to focus on the random movie playing on your tv, even though neither of you were really watching.

you tried to pretend that your heart didn’t pick up its pace every time he shifted just the slightest bit closer.

“you’re quiet,” he noted, breaking the silence.

you blinked, turning your head to look at him. “huh?”

“you’ve been staring at the screen for the past twenty minutes, but i don’t think you’ve actually processed a single thing.”

you scoffed. “that’s rich, coming from you.”

he exhaled a small laugh, barely there, but you caught it. when you glanced at him again, you noticed the way his eyes lingered on you.

something inside you tensed.

“do you ever overthink things?” you found yourself asking.

sae raised an eyebrow. “no.”

you sighed. “figures.”

a smirk tugged at his lips, but before you could roll your eyes at him, he shifted suddenly, his hand moving too fast and too smooth and flicked your forehead.

you jerked back, startled. “ow, what the hell?”

“you’re thinking too much,” he said simply, as if that justified the unprovoked attack.

“you-” you were about to throw a pillow at him, but then he laughed again, barely a breath of amusement, and suddenly, all your frustration disappeared.

because hell, that laugh did something to you.

maybe it was the exhaustion. or the fact that the walls you had carefully built between you and him had slowly been wearing down all night. or maybe it was because, for once, it didn’t feel like you had to overanalyze everything. it was just the two of you, here, now. and that realization made something snap inside you.

so when you turned to him fully, you didn’t think twice before shoving at his shoulder, only for him to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him with little effort.

you barely had time to react before his lips were on yours.

your breath hitched as he kissed you, his fingers tightening around your wrist for half a second before releasing it, letting you make the choice to stay, to kiss him back. and God, you did. you leaned in, your hands finding his shirt, gripping it like you needed to hold onto something.

chapter 033 > here > chapter 035

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: i, in fact, did not cook smth tmrw like i said a few days ago so here's an apology kiss i guess ...

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[mediumgayitalian]

“Don’t worry, Kayla. I got him.”

It’s the first thing that registers in a long time. It’s also the only thing that registers a split second before a hand grips his collar and he is dragged, bodily, out of the infirmary, bumping down the stairs like luggage.

“Is that all I am to you?” Will asks, bereft. “Luggage?”

“You’re losing your mind again,” Nico says. “Intervention time.”

“I am — just fine, thank you kindly! I was in the middle of sorting the medicine cabinet by colour and vibe. Let me go.”

“There’s something wrong with you. Mentally.”

“How rude.”

Nico snorts, but does not relinquish his hold. Will gives up squirming and sighs, allowing himself to be dragged.

It’s kind of nice, he supposes. Nico is careful to avoid most of the rocks and the sky is kind of pretty from this angle. Ideally he’d be, like, walking, but dragged along is alright. It’s better than last time. The whole princess carry thing was humiliating and if someone does that to him again he’s channeling the power of the sun and exploding himself and everyone around him.

“That is not an actual power that you have, William.”

“Shows what you know.”

“I’m gonna start calling you Hiroshima.”

“Go for it. Guess who’ll look like the insane one in that scenario?”

Nico laughs, because he thinks Will is funny, even though he will not admit it. Will knows so because that’s how he bagged the camp’s baddest bitch. Twas most certainly not his swordfighting skills or poetry, that is for certain.

(Not that it had stopped him from trying. Honestly, Nico may have agreed to go out with him for the sole intent of stopping the poetry.)

(But he’s stuck now, so there.)

“Here.” Nico deposits him unceremoniously on the floor. Will lands with an exaggerated oof. “Eat something or I’m stuffing you into an onager and launching you to Mars.” He glances up at the sky. “The planet, not the deity.”

“Figured,” Will wheezes, rubbing his shoulder blades. Why must he always land painfully. Why is he punished merely for existing. “What’s this?”

Nico, refusing to answer verbally, spreads his arms. Will uses his working eyeballs to determine ‘this’ is a soft blanket that is 100% stolen directly from the Aphrodite cabin, spread carefully over the grass of the nicest clearing in the woods. ‘This’ is a picnic basket full of what Will assumes is Twizzlers, if Nico loves him.

“Tis not,” Nico promises. “I brought you vegetables and whole grains and all the other bullshit you harp about me eating, you massive hypocrite.”

‘This’, Will notices, ignoring him, is a folded letter with his name on it and a portable radio playing the nearest country station.

Next time you overwork yourself I’m knocking you unconscious and chaining you to your bed for three days, reads the note. Make better choices, you dickbrain.

“Charming,” Will says. He presses the letter to his chest and pretends to swoon. Nico lets him fall and bang his skull on the ground, but Will internalizes the pain and commits to the bit like a real man. “My very own Romeo, taking care of me so well. Oh, my heart, my heart.”

“You are the most annoying person alive.”

“And yet you’re obsessed with me.”

Nico cracks a smile. “Yes,” he admits. “Not quite sure how that one happened.”

Nico looks at him with dark brown eyes and slightly raised brows and it is charming, genuinely, and Will goes a little pink, admittedly, because his smile is crooked and teasing and there is something handsome and a little tiny bit mean about it and maybe Will likes that. A little. And maybe Nico knows that and snickers and mutters get over here, airhead and tugs him until his head is in his lap and sticks his hands in his tangled hair and yeah, Will likes it a little. A lot.

“You know, you’re kind of an alright person,” Will says.

“That was almost a compliment.”

“Mhm. I might even like you.”

“Shocking.”

Will grins. Nico rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss him, biting the tip of his nose on the way down, and there is a coil in Will’s belly and it feels a little like heat and a little like warmth. A little like someone taking care of him.

“I threatened the camp,” Nico says conversationally. “We have the next three point seventeen hours to ourselves, lest I sacrifice three teenagers to Thanatos.”

“Sensible.”

“I thought so.”

“Anyone told you you’re kinda hot when you’re a little evil?”

“Yeah. I hear it a lot, actually.”

“Good, good. Glad you’re aware.”

They look at each other for one point two seconds and burst out laughing, and it is stupid, and it is quiet, and it is a bubble growing and growing in the pit of Will’s chest.

He breathes. He leans a little farther into Nico’s lap, and smile. He grips their hands together.

It’s kinda nice to be got.

———

based on this drawing by @skysmadness

[inmyheaddd]

when you're close to me - grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: trying to get grayson hawthorne to have a reset day— lots of laughs... lots of kisses... not much of the reset day actually taking place... wc: 1.2k

grayson stood in front of you, hands resting on your waist as you sat on top of the sink counter and held his chin with one hand, the other carefully applying a facemark on his forehead with a brush. you focused on your task, determined to make it look perfect.

you had ordered him to close his eyes so you could put the mask on, even though he didn’t need to— not in any sense that was practical— but it was simply because his gaze was making you far too flustered to focus on the task at hand. the fact that he was this close only made it more difficult. 

“i don’t see why this is necessary,” grayson mumbled, his eyes still shut as you let go of his chin to hold his hair back.

“because,” you reasoned with a hum in your voice, “it just is.” you paused for a moment, “this is how reset days work. you’ve been so caught up in work, so let me just… do this for you.” you mumbled, evening out the shape of the grey mask on his forehead 

“i don’t need a reset day,” he countered calmly, “i’m fine.”

you almost let out a snort. “you most definitely do need a reset day.” 

grayson let out a slow exhale. “i’ve handled the past 20 years of my life without one. but, thank you for your consideration.”

you rolled your eyes affectionately, though he couldnt even see you. 

“thank you for your consideration,” you mumbled under your breath in mockery of his words. you huffed, “i’m going to kill you.” you were still muttering to yourself, to which you heard him laugh and open his eyes at. 

grayson tilted his head to the side, raising one of his brows up at you before he asked, “i’m sorry?”

“you heard me,” you responded, lowering your voice to add to the effect, “i know people…” you were happy to see his eyes again and see how they glittered with humour in this moment, but you couldn’t help but chide him for disrupting your ever-so-important endeavour of applying his facemask, “and, stop moving.” you continued as you pressed a thumb under his jaw, turning his face toward you again.

grayson ignored your ominous and extremely serious threat and closed his eyes again with the barest hint of a smile on his face. 

he stilled for a long moment, and you were getting along quite nicely with the mask, and you were even about to move to the rest of his face. that was until he furrowed his brows again. “may i just ask, what is in this?”

your hand dropped down to your sides with a huff. 

“oh my god,” you shut him up with a laugh as you shut your eyes for a quick moment, “grayson!”

grayson opened his eyes. the corners of his lips flickered up into a smile. 

for a moment, you stayed looking at eachother, feeling your own lips twitch as you held back a smile. it instantly became impossible for the both of you to hold back your laughter anymore. 

usually, you thought perfection was impossible. but it was here, it was effortless with grayson—his head tilted back slightly, grey eyes crinkled, and his usual composure slipping for just a second — beaming with that smile of his that was rare to everyone but you. you wanted to simply kiss his face all over until you were both sick of it. 

clearly, he must’ve been thinking the same thing, as he looked at you with affection swirling behind those icy grey eyes of his. 

a laugh escaped him while he shook his head amusedly, with one of his hands that were previously on your waist moved to cup your cheek, “i deeply apologise, sweetheart.” he murmured lowly, his lips sliding into a coy smile. “i understand your face mask duties hold a lot of importance.”

you yourself were still smiling, “oh shut up, you.” you muttered back, your faces inches apart.  

his gaze flickered to your lips right before you wordlessly leaned in to a kiss. 

at first, you giggled against his lips. that was before melting into the kiss with a lingering smile between you, 

you hopped down from the counter, and wrapped your arms around his neck as his other hand moved to your face. the gentleness of his touch and the kiss sent a swarm of butterflies right to your stomach. 

you felt light on your toes as his lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world, and you could still feel the slight smile on his lips against you. 

his fingers curled at your waist, not pulling you closer, just resting there, like he liked the feeling of you this close.

and you—god, you could barely think. you just felt. the warmth of his touch, the soft pressure of his lips, the slight tilt of his head as he kept leaning in, deepening the kiss until—

you shrieked. 

you felt something cool, slightly tacky on your forehead…

it was near comical, the way grayson’s brows furrowed so quickly when you pulled back, and just as quickly smoothed over when he saw the laugh on your face.

he was still confused, clearly, but the smile you held soothed his worries. 

he tilted his head, trying to understand. “love,” he searched your eyes fore any hint of explanation, unable to hold back a little smile because of your own laughter. “what’s the matter?”

you covered your mouth, dissolving into a giggling mess. "your forehead," you choked out, wiping your own forehead that was touching his with the back of your hand. “it’s.. it’s wet.”

his expression blanked, a single brow raising in that oh so grayson way of his. and then, realization dawned.

the face mask.

he exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he ran a hand down his face. “that’s enough of this," he muttered, moving past you and turning on the sink.

you were a laughing mess, and you stumbled backwards, leaning against the back wall. you watched him roll his sleeves up and lean over the sink while he washed his face haphazardly— and dried it just as quickly. 

“grayson!” you managed to get out with your little chuckles. “why did you wash it off?,” you were the one complaining now, though it was all jokes. you fake pouted, “that was expensive.”

he turned back, and his expression was half amused and half exasperated.

he ran a hand through his hair as he looked at you before he started walking to you. “i washed it off,” he started lowly as he got to you in two strides, “so i’d be able to do this.”

you fought back a smile, and kept your eyes on him as he got to you.  those same butterflies erupted in your stomach tenfold when his hands went to your waist, pulling you into him before his lips pressed into yours. 

just moments before, you were smiling because of laughter, but this time you were unable to stop the grin on your face because you simply felt so.. peaceful. fulfilled, even. you doubted you could ever get sick of being like this with him.

one hand moved to hold where your jaw met your neck, pulling you closer. 

no interruptions this time.

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[goquokka00]

SKZ vs. Shark Week (Felix ver.)

How would each member of Stray Kids handle you while you're on your period?

BANGCHAN | MINHO | CHANGBIN | HYUNJIN JISUNG | FELIX | SEUNGMIN | JEONGIN

WARNING: This is a female reader going through their period. If the topic of a period/anything that has to do with a period makes you uncomfortable, then don't read it. Just remember that there's nothing wrong with a woman's period. It's a perfectly healthy body function :)

THE MOODS It was very safe to say that you were an absolute wreck. Not necessarily because you were all over the place emotionally, but because you were just extremely sensitive. One tiny little compliment that Felix gave you would make you cry. One little critique would make you cry. The cute puppy that lived across the hall? It made you cry.

And so, Felix made an effort to always be with you. Any time you started crying, he'd instantly scoop you into his arms and coo to you, babying you with everything he had. While he was usually your baby, when you got emotional like this, you were his. And he'd do everything in his power to make you feel all better.

You want kisses? He's gonna douse you in them. You want to be held? Great! Felix won't let you go. You want him close? Felix will melt into you, nuzzle your cheek with his, and squeeze you until you feel better. You don't want any of that? Too bad. He'll do it anyway.

THE BLOOD You actually don't bleed that much. Your flow is really light, but it lasts a long, long time. And Felix couldn't be more thankful. Why? Because he could still get his cuddles while you bled and lay with you. What more, you were willing to go out and do things with him.

You didn't feel gross because you didn't have a swimming pool of blood in your pants, hell, you didn't have to double up on products, either. You could easily get away with just using panty liners most of the time. Simple as that. And Felix couldn't be more grateful that his girl was somewhat functional.

THE PAIN While your period was nice to you in the blood regard, it was NOT nice to you during the other symptoms that occurred. There wasn't necessarily pain, but you did tend to stay up way later. Why? Because you sweated like a mad man during the night. You'd get hot, then you'd get grumpy, and then you'd just want to sprawl and not be anywhere near Felix.

And while Felix was a bit upset by that, and wanted to cuddle like you both normally did, he also understood that you were just uncomfortable with sleeping in the same bed. He would be too if he was creating a new ocean made entirely of sweat where he was laying.

And so, he would go and sleep in the dorms at night, only to come right back the next day to be with you in case you needed anything.

THE PRODUCT Because Felix has two sisters, I feel like he'd be pretty comfortable with the sight of period products. He knew the ins and outs of it really well, and so he was more than happy to help out where he could. The one thing he was a bit hesitant on was going and getting the products for you.

It wasn't that he didn't want to because it was weird or embarrassing, no no no. He just really didn't want to slip up and get the wrong ones. Even if you were to write down exactly what you need and send a picture to him, he'd still be nervous that it wasn't the right ones, and that he failed you (even though he's incapable of failing anyone).

And when it comes to the waste, Felix just...doesn't want to look. He doesn't like the sight of blood in any shape or form, and so if he does accidentally see it, he'll just come to you and hesitantly ask you if next time, you could possibly cover the blood a bit more so he doesn't have to see it. And you do it, because he's too precious to argue with.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d @skzlover24

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason: Bruce, I know we’ve made amends and I’m back in this insane family, and I’m well aware you tried to kill the Joker to avenge my honor. You didn’t go through with it, but still, there’s a lot to unpack here. I want that soldier memorial removed. I never wanted a statue that labels me as a damn child soldier.

Bruce: Yeah, I told Alfred the same thing. Honestly, I’m thinking we could replace it with photos of you, Dick, Tim, and Damian.

Jason: You told Alfred the same thing?

Bruce (swishing his Cognac in his glass): Alfred set up that memorial and included the soldier line. I hated it—not because it reminds me of you but because equating you to a soldier reduces the fact that you're my son who chose to fight alongside me. I may be emotionally distant, but I do love you. You were never a solider, you are my son.

Jason blinked, momentarily stunned, and turned away, coughing to maintain his composure. Bruce half-smiled, noticing his son misty-eyed.

Jason: Right, back to the Alfred comment. He put that up? Jesus, I know he’s old and things were different back then, but “soldier” for a teenage Robin? How is that okay?

Bruce: Alfred means well. He tends to do insane things without my approval. He made Tim a Robin after I vowed never to have another child sidekick.

Jason (shocked): What the hell?!

Bruce chuckled dryly as he drank the rest of his Cognac and poured another glass.

Bruce: Yeah, when you died in that explosion and I cradled your lifeless body, I thought about you—my sidekick, my son. I reflected on Dick and what he went through, how he was going low contact with me. I spiraled, thinking, “What kind of monster does this to his son? To the kids he claims to care about? I just buried a kid… a kid who lost his life before it even started.”

He downed the second glass of Cognac, his throat dry, and slammed the glass on the table.

Bruce: So I vowed to never get another one. Obviously, that didn’t stick. Tim figured out Dick was Nightwing and the first Robin; I couldn’t resist rubbing that in his face for weeks once I felt better. But before that, I turned Tim away. I didn’t want a child sidekick. I thought I could handle this alone. Dick and I were still on terrible terms, and I was losing it. This was after I tried to kill the Joker, by the way.

Jason: Right.

Bruce: I was, to put it lightly, losing my mind. I was inches away from having my one bad day moment, on the brink of insanity. But Alfred and… I think Dick got Tim your old suit—

Jason: My old suit? The one I died in?!

Bruce: No, the backup you had. Keep up. So they gave him that suit, and he saved me. Alfred was like, "Master Bruce, I got you a new sidekick. You don’t have to thank me." I didn’t thank him, but Tim was precocious and adorable. I probably would’ve died without him. But yeah, Alfred was behind that as well.

Jason: …

Bruce: I know it’s a lot to take in. I hope you aren’t angry at Alfred for this.

Jason (burying his head in his hands): I’m so conflicted.

Bruce: That’s usually how I feel when Alfred decides to do things I didn't agree with. He means well though, the man was there for me when I had no one after my parents died. Do you still want to remove the memorial? I have a small one set up for you already, just photos of us together.

Jason: Aww, Bruce, that’s actually nice and makes sense for you. Let’s keep the memorial. I don’t have it in me to get mad at Alfred. Can I have some of that alcohol, though? I think I need it.

Bruce (already pouring him a glass): I expected that. If you have more questions, I’m two drinks in and becoming an open book like that time we got hit with truth pollen.

Jason: I actually wanted to ask what you said to Superman after he stupidly tried to stop you from avenging your son.

Bruce: I’d love to talk about that, and I hope he hears us.

inspired by this kaylee.jaye

[legendofmorons]

Sky only one bed

One bed (morning confessions)

No warnings just some fluff

Your excitement to sleep at an inn is only half diminished when you find that you've been paired to a room with only one bed. It's not the end of the world. Traveling with this group, you've seen everyone hurt or in various states of dress.

The issue is actually just that there's only one bed and the person you are sharing the room (and apparently bed) with is Sky.

That... makes it sound bad. It isn't!

Sky is wonderful, kind if a little prone to teasing. After all every Link is a gremlin at heart.

The problem, or the root of it, is that you have feelings for the man... and you are worried about making a fool of yourself.

"Well, I can take the floor?" Sky offers from the doorway behind you.

You stand in the middle of the room and turn, "Absolutely not."

"I don't mind."

"I mind." You cross your arms.

You know that if you offer to sleep on the floor he'll shoot it down. Which, if nice because that would probably mess up ypur back and neck.

You know the bed is big enough.

Well... You suppose you'll just have to suck up your feelings about this and share. The bed is big enough for it.

"We can share." You say, hoping you come of as confident.

Sky smiles even as his cheeks dust pink, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's big enough anyways." You offer a smile back. "Besides there are worse people to share a bed with."

"Oh yeah?"

You laugh a little. "Definitely. Wind kicks in his sleep, little monster."

"You don't say." Sky laughs.

You snicker again. "I'm pretty sure. Come on it's been a long day we should try to sleep."

"Probably so." Sky says as he steps fully into the room and shuts the door.

You cross to the corner of the room, setting your things down before stripping into your under layers. An under shirt and underwear is much better to sleep in than full gear.

You can hear Sky doing the same somewhere on behind you.

It's almost scary to bear so little protection after so long with this group, but you know you're safe here. Regardless of any reciprocation Sky may or may not have for your feelings, he would never hurt you. Not on purpose.

Crossing to the bed and getting in is more daunting than you want to admit. It's a comfortable bed, at least.

You watch Sky get into bed, laying like a stiff log beside you.

"That's got to be uncomfortable." You say with a soft smile.

"It's fine. I don't want to encroach."

"I'm not going to die if you end up touching my arm, but thank you for thinking of me."

Sky looks at you with wide eyes. "I sprawl out usually I just don't want to bother you."

A rather silly idea occurs to you. "Would it be easier if we cuddled?"

You can feel your face heat up, but it's a genuine question. There is no answer that will be easy on your heart, but you've already asked.

Sky flushes a little. "If... you don't mind?"

"I offered." You manage.

You both shift until you're comfortable. The soft 'is this okay' or 'can I do this' is asked until you settle down.

Sky lays on his back in the middle of the bed, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you. His heart beats rapidly in his chest like bass drum beating along to a fast song you don't know.

It's nice.

It's torture because this isn't quite what you imagined this situation would be. There's no kisses.

It's okay though, because Sky is a good friend and you feel safe.

"Are you going to be able to sleep?" You ask.

Sky hums, "I should be. Why?"

"Your heart's fast is all."

"Oh." Sky says.

"I didn't mean to be rude-"

"You weren't." Sky assures you.

"Okay."

You let yourself sink into the comfort and safety, relishing the warmth of the man holding you.

Sky's breathing is slow and steady. Even as his heart continues it's rapid staccato.

You lay there long enough that you are all but asleep when you hear it.

"You're beautiful like this." Sky whispers.

You manage to open your eyes, face warming. "Thank you."

"Oh- I thought you were asleep. I mean it though."

"Thank you."

"Go back to sleep, sunshine."

You feel far more awake at this new nickname. "Sunshine?"

"Oh. Uh-"

"I like that one." You decide, ignoring the hope blossoming in your heart.

"Good." Sky says.

Sleep finds you both, the embrace of dreams is nothing new.

-------

Sky wakes and immediately closes his eyes again the sunlight streaming in from the window. He pulls the thing again his chest closer in protest-

That's not a thing that's a person.

Sky opens his eyes again, quickly looking down and seeing you.

Right.

Goddess above, Sky was such a fool last night. Letting his feelings fall all over the ground. It's a miracle he didn't make you uncomfortable on accident.

"I'm so lucky." Sky mutters to himself.

You groan, burying your face in his chest before you bolt up with a gasp.

"What- Sky?" You ask with blurring vision.

"Morning." Sky says.

You blink a few times, the sigh. Lowering yourself back down to your original position with your head on his chest you just pout. "No."

"No?" Sky chuckles.

"Don't wanna."

"Fair enough."

"I was having a nice dream." You sigh, sounding a little out if it still. "Was nice, we were married and having a picnic."

"Oh?" Sky asks.

"Yes."

"Sounds nice."

"It was. Too bad it's not real." You yawn, burying your face in his chest again.

"It could be." Sky offers on instinct.

"What?" You ask, looking up at him.

Sky gives a nervous smile. "It could be real. If you meant that, if you actually want a life with me. If I'm miss reading-"

"Really?"

"Yes." Sky breathes out.

You smile, giddy and adoreable. "We're so talking about this later."

"After breakfast."

"Sounds lovely." You say, setting back down and closing your eyes. "I just want to lay here for now."

"Sounds perfect." Sky says, pulling you a little closer while fixing the blankets.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞-𝐭𝐨-𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Gilbert had been acting strangely lately.

Gilbert: "Little bunny, is there anything you want me to do for you?"

Emma: "Again?"

When I arrived at our usual spot with freshly brewed tea and pastries, he set his work aside, greeted me with a charming smile, and insisted.

Gilbert: "I want you to rely on me more."

Emma: "I've relied on you plenty already."

(Just yesterday, for example.)

------------Flashback-----------

Gilbert: "There, I finished drying your hair."

Emma: "Thanks. That felt really nice."

Gilbert: "I'm glad to hear that. So, what would you like me to do next?"

Emma: "N-Nothing, really—"

Gilbert: "What would you like me to do next?"

Emma: "T-Then maybe a shoulder massage?"

Gilbert: "Oh, good idea. You're probably the only person who could tell me to do that."

Emma: "Actually, never mind—"

Gilbert: "Nope. No need to hold back with me."

Gilbert: "If it's for you, I'd gladly do anything—no matter how selfish the request is."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Lately, he's been overly sweet to me.)

(He's not usually like this, though.)

Gilbert: "Hey, won't you rely on me?"

Emma: "I feel completely content right now."

Gilbert: "Emma, did you forget?"

Gilbert: "You only have two choices: either listen to my request or be forced to."

(So I have to say something, no matter what?)

I set the tea and pastries down on the table and gazed into his crimson eyes, trying to read his true intentions.

Emma: "Did something happen?"

Gilbert: "Right now? Nothing at all."

('Right now'?)

Gilbert: "Hehe, come on, keep thinking. Until you ask me for something, I won't let you leave—cough!"

Emma: "Gil!?"

He suddenly started coughing, so I quickly placed a hand on his back and gently rubbed it.

Gilbert: "Hey now, aren't you overreacting?"

Emma: "Of course, I'm overreacting! I still haven't forgiven you for disappearing on me for days."

Not long ago, Gilbert had suddenly vanished from the castle.

I figured he must have caught a cold and hid so he wouldn't spread it to me, but I'd been beside myself with worry.

Whenever he was suffering, he always kept it to himself, refusing to share the burden with anyone.

That was the kind of cruel yet kind person he was.

(Maybe this whole situation is his way of making up for that.)

(I don't know the real reason behind all this, but I do have one thing I want to ask.)

Emma: "Gil."

Gilbert: "If you're about to ask me to stay by your side forever, that's a no."

Emma: "There's something I'd like to ask you."

Emma: "Is there a way to keep someone who occasionally disappears without a trace by my side?"

Gilbert: "Fufu, of course, there's a way. But before I tell you, how about you show me your method first?"

(That was… surprisingly easy.)

Gilbert ran his fingers through my hair, gently tugging—not enough to hurt, but enough to bring our faces closer.

His striking red eyes locked onto mine, silently urging me to act.

(My method, huh?)

Emma: "Please, don't go anywhere."

The moment I made my plea, looking straight into his eyes, he bit down lightly on my lip.

Gilbert: "That won't do at all. The moment you start begging, it means you're not really trying to make me listen."

Emma: "I just couldn't think of another way."

Gilbert: "That's because you're kind. But remember, the person you're dealing with is a villain."

Gilbert: "If you really want to tie down a villain, you don't beg—you control."

Gilbert: "If you and the villain want totally different things, why let him decide?"

(He has a point, but isn't forcing him to stay too selfish?)

(Asking him to rely on me is just my own selfishness in the end.)

At my silence, he let go of my hair.

Gilbert: "There are many ways to bend someone's will."

Gilbert: "But the methods preferred by a beast like me wouldn't suit someone as gentle as you."

Gilbert: "So, I'll teach you the simplest way—the one that won't weigh on your conscience."

Before I could react, he suddenly stood up, grabbed my wrist, and pinned me down against the table.

(Huh?)

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few papers covered in his handwriting flutter through the air.

But before I could pay them any mind, my vision was completely overtaken by his handsome face.

His lips captured mine, again and again, teasing, coaxing, drawing out a heat I hadn't intended to surrender.

(What the hell is happening?)

Dazed, I instinctively accepted his kiss, only for his tongue to invade, thoroughly claiming every inch of my mouth.

Gilbert: "Make sure you never do this with anyone else, okay?"

Gilbert: "I'd hate to stain you with someone else's blood."

His crimson eyes gleamed with something dark and possessive as he slowly ran his tongue over his wet lips.

Then, without warning, he hooked his hands under my legs and lifted them—leaving me utterly defenseless.

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3 ╎ Part 4

[mendessi]

things i say when you sleep | chapter eleven

multi chapter bodhi durran x fem!oc

word count: 7k

chapter summary: The Battle of Resson.

content warning: canon typical violence & injuries, liam ):, mentions of death

AO3 masterlist

nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen

Magic beyond the wards feels different. 

It's more freeing, but the lack of control concerns me slightly. 

The terms we left Basgiath on feel strange, even though we went on orders. The account of War Games doesn't change the fact that Xaden pulling us caused more tension with Dain. 

This was the first long flight Gleigeal and I had done, and my back aches when I dismount. We're stopped at a lake not too far from Athebyne so the dragons can drink. The view isn't too bad, and I take a moment to admire it. The quadrant grew quite boring after staring at the same walls for too long, so the change in scenery was nice.

"You okay?" Liam asks from my side as he dismounts Deigh. 

"Call if you need me." I say to Gleigeal as he steps towards the lake. He chuffs in response, and I turn to Liam.

"Just sore," I vocalize my sigh as I stretch my back and shoulders. My back isn't the only sore thing, but I'd rather not mention that I can still feel Bodhi between my legs. "You?"

"I'm good," He nods his head, "Happy that you're here." 

Things are so different now than they were a year ago. Everyone was trying to force my hand into following Xaden blindly, but Liam was the only one who gave me a choice. He was the only one who approached me in a way that worked. I have him to thank when it comes down to it. 

I give him a small smile, and we watch as Andarna unclips from the harness attached to Tairn's. Xaden is a fucking genius. 

"I'm gonna go check on her," Liam says as he approaches her once she lands on the ground. 

The energy feels slightly weird, but I try to keep my shields down just a crack. I want to feel what's going on around me, and I don't want surprises. Especially not during War Games. 

I lean against a tree and watch the rest of the headquarters squad situate. Xaden approaches Violet and laces his fingers with hers, and I can't help the subtle smile that finds its way to my face. 

Xaden hand-picked this squad for a reason, and nobody here would judge the way he feels for Violet. At least not out loud. 

"Who would've thought? Xaden and Violet," Bodhi says, appearing at my side. I didn't even hear him approach; I'd been so lost in thought. 

"Who would have thought?" I verbally agree. I did think. I thought many months ago, actually. 

"How are you?" He asks, leaning against the other side of the tree. 

"I'm good. Nervous, but good." 

The common knowledge that when we return to Basgiath, there's a chance that other cadets won't doesn't sit right with me. I trust that the squad I've been placed in for this exercise will return home just fine, but I can't say the same for the others. Anything could happen, and as much as I'm not worried for those I'm currently with, the idea of anything happening to Rhi, Sawyer, or Ridoc frightens me. Especially Ridoc. Who would I share a bed with when I'm upset? 

"Everything is gonna be fine. Xaden is gonna have us leave for patrol at some point tomorrow, and you can see how the drops work," He says. 

"You don't think Violet will question why I get to go and she has to stay?" I ask. 

"Liam will stay with her to keep her distracted, and you can explain to him when you two have time alone," he tells me. "You should rest. Sit with me for a minute."

He sits down with his back to the tree and his feet apart. He pats the grass between his legs, and I shake my head with a laugh as I sit. I lean my back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. The position is quite comfortable, and I sigh in content as I watch the dragons drink from the lake. 

"You look good in flight leathers," He says, his thumb stroking my arm lightly.

"Shut up," I hit his thigh playfully and tilt my head to look at him. 

"I'm happy you're here, Ani," He says. "I would've been worried if I couldn't have my eyes on you for five days."

"I can handle myself," I say as he raises his hand to brush my cheek. 

"Hey," He says gently, "I know you can." 

I want to kiss him, but the inner monologue I had with myself during the long hours of flying stops me. I know I let him kiss me before we launched to leave Basgiath, but I don't want any more intimacy with him til we draw the lines around whatever this relationship is. I shouldn't even be allowing myself to sit like this with him. 

"I would've just missed you," I tell him. 

"We'll have some time when we get back before Conscription Day to do just about whatever we want," He says. 

"I want to talk first," I reply, and he nods.

"I know." His thumb brushes my bottom lip. "Me too."

Our time is limited under this tree, and the conversation we need to have is going to have to wait. Maybe tonight, after we establish headquarters and retrieve our next missive, we'll have time. 

"We have company," Gleigeal says, and Bodhi must receive the same news from Cuir because we're both to our feet within a heartbeat.

"Fuck. Violet doesn't know." Bodhi takes off running, and I follow behind him. I have practically sprint to keep up with his large strides.

"Gryphons?" I ask, pushing to keep up. 

"Yes, but I'm told they're allies." He replies. A breath of relief fills my lungs.

When we approach, I feel the power radiating off of Violet, and I do my best to dim it.

Gryphons stand in front of them, and my lips part at the sight. I'd only ever seen them in drawings, but I'm amazed at how magnificent they are in person. 

Violet is thrashing in Liam's arms, and Tairn's piercing roar makes my ears ring. Liam releases her, and I join her at her side. I can feel her betrayal seeping into my chest, and I consider raising my shields fully shut. It's a bitter feeling, and I don't like the way it hurts. I feel for her; I do. I know exactly how it feels to be kept in the dark. 

She looks to me, scanning me for any sort of surprise or the same sentiment of betrayal, and she shakes her head when she realizes I don't. 

"You knew?" She asks me, her voice slightly wavering. 

"To an extent, yes. But there is so much you don't understand." I reply. I recall the time that Bodhi had said the same words to me when I arrived in the quadrant. 

"You almost had me fooled," She scoffs and turns her attention back to the conversation happening between Xaden and the fliers. Her words sting, but I know that I would feel the same way. I don't hold her at fault for it. 

"Venin never come this far west," Is the next line of the conversation I catch.

All I'd been told was that we'd supply venin-killing weapons as a form of aid. I had put two and two together that it was to fliers, but seeing it happen in action was insanely surreal. My entire life, I'd been kept on the outside, and finally, not being the only person in the room who was clueless felt freeing. 

"Until now. They were unmistakably venin and had one of their-" One of the female fliers start. Xaden is quick to cut her off. 

"Don't say anything else. You know that none of us can know the details, or we put everything at risk. All it takes is one of us being interrogated." I focus on Xaden's feelings and am shocked when I sense a bit of fear. He turns back to look at me for only a moment, and I know I've been caught trying to read him.

"Details or not, it looks like the horde is heading north. Straight toward our trading post on the border across from your garrison at Athebyne. Are you armed?" The male flier asks.

I reach for Bodhi's hand just to have something to hold. This was never something I anticipated when I agreed to help with the drops next year.

"We're armed," Xaden confirms.

"Then our job here is done. You've been warned. Now we have to go defend our people. As it is, this side trip only gives us about an hour to reach them in time." The flier says. I look at the entire drift of fliers, trying to remember faces. Something tells me that this isn't the last time I'll be seeing them. 

My heart sinks. Ever since Bodhi told me that venin were real, it never really struck me as true. Of course, I believed him, but it was just so insanely baffling that the stories we'd been told as children were accurate accounts of history. Standing here in front of a drift of fliers, people that are supposed to be our enemy, who are about to head into battle against them, is hindering.

Bodhi laces our fingers together and squeezes my hand comfortingly, and I glance at his side profile. Still so beautiful.  

"I wonder what your King would be willing to pay in order to get back the daughter of his most illustrious general. I'm willing to bet your ransom would be enough to defend all of Draithus for a decade." The male says, tilting his head to look at Violet. 

Bodhi drops my hand, and we instantly move closer to her, and I'm prepared to fight if need be. Violet's power sizzles in my chest as Tairn snarls behind us. 

"Try. I dare you." Light flashes above us, and the corner of my mouth twitches upward. She has it handled. It's ridiculous how powerful she is. 

Xaden's shadow-wielding never fails to impress me every time I have the pleasure of witnessing it. Watching him defend Violet is extremely satisfying, and I don't hide my amusement at how the fliers back off after it. 

After the drift is gone, all of us turn to Violet. I feel bad for her, knowing exactly how she feels, but I don't know how to comfort her. There's nothing I could say that would make this situation better. I know that this is a conversation she has to have with Xaden. 

Her feelings are so overwhelming so I try to reach out and do what I can to ease them, but she's too damned strong and I haven't even begun to hone my signet. I'm not even sure if adjusting the intensity of someone else's emotions is something I can do, but I've been dying to test the theory. What better moment than now?

When she raises her voice at Liam, I let go of the strand of color that I know is her's. I'm either making it worse or not helping at all. 

I turn and reach for Bodhi, grateful when he wraps his arm around my shoulders. I don't like the conflict happening in front of me, especially when I've convinced myself I'm the reason it's escalating. 

"And you." Violet turns to me, and I grip Bodhi's jacket between my fingers. "You spent all this time pretending to hate them when you've been working with them all along." 

"That's not true." Anger bubbles beneath my skin. She's upset, and I can't blame her for anything she's saying. Xaden will clear the air, hopefully. If anyone can get through to her, it's him. 

"Everybody go back to the shore. Now." Xaden says, and we oblige. They need the space, and Xaden needs to get through to her. 

"She will come around. Just as you did," Gleigeal says, and I hope he's right. 

We sit in the sand, and Bodhi absentmindedly plays with my fingers as I watch the water lap against the shoreline. 

"When we get back to Basgiath, we'll go into further detail about drop shipments before Xaden leaves," Bodhi says, and I hum in response, not really paying attention to him. "What's wrong?" 

"I know how she feels," I say quietly, turning to face him. "I feel bad for her, that's all. And knowing that those fliers are about to go head to head with a 'horde' and we can't do anything about it is... horrifying. I want to help."

Bodhi takes in my words and processes them slowly.

And fucking War Games. There's still that, too.

"She'll come around," Bodhi says, and I shake my head. 

"She's not me, Bodhi," I tell him. "She has lived her entire life believing in one thing and was raised differently than we were. I forgave you quicker than I should've. Don't count on the same from her."

Violet isn't wired that way. She's like me in the sense that it takes a lot for her to trust, but this isn't something she'll move past as quickly as I did. It was easier for me because I grew up with Bodhi, Garrick, and Xaden. I have a relic. She doesn't. Gaining her trust again will take time. 

I unsheathe the alloy-hilted dagger that Xaden and Bodhi put into my possession not too long after I found out about the venin and draw in the sand with it. 

"It's not easy lying to those you care about," He says, "Especially something to this scale." 

"I know." I keep my gaze on the tip of the blade dragging through the sand. 

"Listen, Ani," He gently takes the blade from my hand and tilts my chin to look at him, "I don't know what's going to happen over the next couple of days, but if I don't say this now, I'll regret it."

"I can't." I shake my head, pulling away from him to stand up, "I can't do the goodbye stuff. I'm sorry." 

"Ani, please," He stands up too, reaching for my hand, "Let me just-"

"Mount up." Xaden's order grabs our attention, and I'm slightly thankful, though the look in Bodhi's eyes pains me. 

"We'll talk when we're back in Basgiath," I tell him. 

Ever since my family died, goodbyes have never been my forte. I didn't get to say a single word to any of my family members before I never saw them again, and this isn't something I can handle. Whatever Bodhi was going to tell me will have to wait. 

"I hope that you putting off that conversation won't come back to bite you," Gleigeal says as I mount. 

"I am not capable of having that conversation right now." I reply. 

When we arrive in Athebyne, the energy is extremely off. When I join Bodhi, he glances at me sideways, and I look around at the empty outpost. 

"There's no one here. Divide and search." He looks between Bodhi and me. "You don't take eyes off of her, you hear me?"

Bodhi nods curtly, and he, Garrick, Imogen, and I split away from him and Violet. The rest of our squad splits into small groups as well to search the seemingly abandoned outpost. 

"So are you two..." Garrick gestures between Bodhi and me.

"I knew it," Imogen snickers. 

My cheeks heat up, and I put distance between me and Bodhi. "Let's focus on the task at hand." 

"I'm just saying, if you are, you know that we support you." Garrick continues. He's trying to get a rise out of Bodhi, and the way his strand of emotions in the Riorson library burns brighter tells me it's working. 

"Shut up." Bodhi glares at Garrick, and he and Imogen break into laughter. 

We enter the southeast tower, and Garrick is quick to find a missive addressed to Xaden. So, to counter Xaden's assumption, this does have something to do with War Games. Thank Zihnal. 

We cross the rampart, and while Bodhi and Imogen engage in a minor argument about something I can't hear, Garrick falls in line with my step. 

"You spent a lot of time avoiding me this year, Ania." He tells me. 

"I spent a lot of time avoiding a lot of people this year, Garrick." I look up at him as we walk. 

"Yeah, but," he shrugs, "You started talking to Xaden and Bodhi again and never came back to me. We grew up together, too, you know." 

He's not wrong, and I do want to clear the air with him, but right now is not the time. Not when he's about to hand off our assignment to Xaden. 

"I promise I'm not deflecting because I genuinely do want to have this conversation, but can we please wait til we get back to Basgiath?" I ask. 

He smiles, "You were so quick to anger earlier this year. Look at you, having an actual conversation." 

"Shut up," I laugh lightly and nudge his arm with my shoulder. 

"I'm gonna hold you to it, little Alistair. We're having that conversation the second we land back in Basgiath." He says as we approach Xaden, Violet, and Liam. Garrick hands over the missive to Xaden and he pops the seal. 

"That's from Colonel Aetos," Violet says. 

"What's it say? What's our assignment?" Garrick asks. 

"Guys, I see something past the trading post. Oh shit." Liam says. 

The way the energy shifts is enough to make my head spin. I have got to get this empathy thing under control. 

"So I've been trying to tell you," Gleigeal says, and I mock him down our bond. 

"It says our mission is to survive if we can," Xaden says, and the way he pales makes my skin crawl. 

Bodhi immediately reaches for my hand, and I don't dare to pull it away. 

"Guys, this is bad!" Liam yells, and Imogen is at his side within a second. 

Every single person from our squad is appearing at Liam's alert, and Xaden looks to Violet. 

"This isn't your fault." He says to her before looking between the rest of us, "We've been sent here to die."

Xaden's emotions are the only ones I focus on while everyone else rushes to the battlements to see what Liam sees. He's... scared.  His gaze meets mine, and he shakes his head. Somehow, he can sense when I read him, but I don't even think he's upset at me for it. 

"I should've never brought you here," He says to me. "Fuck."

It takes everything in me to focus on what's happening. The conversations in front of me happen so quickly that I almost don't catch what's being said. I'm too busy trying to close the book where the emotions of those around me are starting to grow wildly. I cannot have a repeat of what happened on the field with Gleigeal. 

"The letter says this is a test of your command. You have the choice of abandoning the village of our enemy or abandoning command of your wing." The section leader says. 

"What the hell does that mean?" Bodhi snatches the letter from his hand. 

"They're testing our loyalty without saying it," Xaden says. "According to the missive, if we leave now, we’ll make it to the new location of headquarters for Fourth Wing at Eltuval in time to carry out our orders for War Games, but if we leave, the trading post of Resson and its occupants will be destroyed." 

Violet reeks of guilt, and I wish I knew why. There's no way she could know something like this would happen. 

"By what?" Imogen asks.

"Venin." Liam's words don't shock me, but they should. 

"I liked it better when we just delivered the weapons," Bodhi says under his breath. 

"We are joined by seven gryphons," Gleigeal says. 

I look to Bodhi, who likely just got the same message from Cuir. 

"How many people live in Resson?" He asks.

"More than three hundred," Imogen replies. 

"Then let's get down there."

The way he reacts, ready to defend innocent people, sets off an absurd feeling in my chest. The way he stares down his cousin who blocks him from running into the unknown is the reason I-

The thought doesn't finish forming because Xaden is on a justifiable tangent about the risks of marching into Resson. Once a gryphon flier approaches us and tells us to flee, my mind is made up. 

I want to stay, and I want to help. Innocent people will die if we don't leave. I don't care about the risks. What good are we with dragons if we don't at least try to help? 

This could've been prevented if the leadership in Navarre hadn't deemed it necessary to hide this knowledge from the public. They're all in the dark, just like I was. 

"I’m not going to order any of you to join me. I’m responsible for all of you. None of you crossed that parapet because you wanted to. None of you. You crossed it because I made a deal. I’m the one who forced you into the quadrant, so I won’t think less of anyone who wants to fly for Eltuval instead. Make your choice.” Xaden says.

"I know if Beckett were alive, he would be here by our side. And he absolutely would not walk away from this fight." I say, looking to Xaden. I could very well be on the death roll come tomorrow, but I know what the right thing to do is.

"I was worried you'd say that," Xaden says, but there's a tiny hint of a sad smile. 

"I chose well," Gleigeal tells me. 

Every single one of us agrees that we're fighting. Whether we make it home or not, at least we die doing what we as riders swore to do. 

Liam tells us what he can see from where we are, and I take a deep breath as I look at Bodhi. He's already looking at me. 

Xaden gives us directives one by one. I'm to assist Bodhi and Garrick in evacuating the town. We're approaching our dragons when Xaden's hand wraps around my wrist. 

"If you're telling me to stay out of this fight, I'm not going to listen to you," I tell him, pulling my wrist from his grip. 

"I was going to tell you that I am proud of the person you've become," He says. 

I remember after Threshing when he told me that Beckett would be proud of me. Xaden's pride in me means just as much, I realize. Beckett was a great brother in every aspect. But he wasn't my only brother. 

"I'll see you on the other side of this," I tell him. 

"Stay alive, Ania. Not just for Beckett, but for me too." Xaden doesn't give me the chance to reply. He turns on his heel and walks toward Violet. 

"It is a shame that I never got to meet him," Gleigeal says as I approach his foreleg. I smile softly, thinking of the time when Gleigeal "didn't think he would mind his presence". 

"Let's not dwell on what could have been," I reply. 

I'm about to mount when Bodhi appears at my side. I open my mouth to speak, but he grabs my waist, pulling me into a devastating kiss. 

My hands immediately find his face as he pulls me as close to him as humanly possible. It's passionate and deep and just what I need to prepare me for what we're walking into. 

When he pulls away, his gaze locks on mine. 

I look for the strand of emotions I know are his, but they don't sprout from the book in the Riorson House library. The spiral down from the mage lights hovered above, entangling themselves with the deep green tendrils of my own. He is more than a part of me at this point, and the feeling pounds in my chest. I know we share it as one. 

"Ani-" He starts, with his forehead resting against mine.

"I know," I whisper. "Tell me after."

He kisses me one more time and then walks away to mount Cuir. 

Everyone's attention is directed to the dragon that flies overhead, spiting blue fire. I immediately recognize it from the drawings in the books we read as kids. 

"Is that a wyvern?" I ask Gleigeal.

"Unfortunately," He replies. 

"Anyone want to change their minds?" Xaden asks and is met with silence. "No? Then, mount up."

Perfect. Is there any part of Fables of the Barren that is actually fictional? 

Bodhi and I share one more glance before the entire squad is mounted on their dragons, heading into battle.

"Be prepared to relaunch at a moment's notice," Gleigeal tells me when my feet hit the ground. 

The town center is a mess. People are running in a million different directions; children are screaming and crying. I don't give myself a moment to panic; I simply jump straight into action, guiding people in the direction safest to get out of Resson. 

A venin stands on top of the tower, blue flames spewing from his hands into the town below him. 

Tairn and Violet fly by, and the entire clock tower goes up in flames before collapsing in on itself. 

"Soleil found a mine entrance. Start directing civilians toward it," Gleigeal shouts down the bond, and I nod my head. I see Bodhi and Garrick further up and assume it must be that way, so I start sending them that way. 

The last couple of civilians from my end of town are now closer to Bodhi, so I take one last look around to ensure there are no stragglers. 

"Mount, now!" Gleigeal's roar sounds, and I don't question it; I just sprint. 

I execute the quickest mount I've ever done and look below as he launches with me halfway up his back. I nearly lose my footing but manage to catch myself on his spikes. The venin that stood on top of the clock tower emerges from the flames, and my breath is stolen from my lungs. Dragon fire is no use. The gryphon flier explaining that four of them is a death sentence makes so much sense now. 

Fuck, what did we get ourselves into?

Gleigeal lands next to Liam, and I dismount, landing directly next to him. 

"You okay?" He asks me, and I nod. 

"Dragon fire doesn't work," I tell him.

I flinch as lightning strikes a section of the city wall, silently begging Violet to get her aim under control. 

"I got the mine entrance open!" Soleil calls. 

Liam and I take no time in starting to usher the townspeople into it. I don't have eyes on Garrick and Bodhi anymore. Bodhi was told not to take his eyes off of me, so I can imagine the fear he's feeling.

"Can you relay to Cuir-"

"Already did," He replies. "Enemy approaching."

I turn around, my jaw dropping as I watch the venin channel from the ground.  The ground around it essentially dies, turning an ugly gray color. 

Soleil is already charging at it, and I move to run after her. My feet skid when I halt, and I almost lose my balance. Not even two steps into the dead zone, she collapses and so does her Brown Clubtail. I hear Violet's scream, but my eyes don't leave the venin. 

Its eyes lock on mine, and I know I'm next. The gray patch begins to expand outward. I won't make it back to Gleigeal at the speed it moves out, no matter how quickly I run. 

I hold my hands up, focusing on the lanterns that line the path. I pull open the curtains in the library and pull every light source I can see into my palms before forcing my energy into them. The flare that rips off my palms is so bright that I have the instinct to look away, but I don't because I know it does not affect me. It's the same way I can look at the sun and not be bothered by it.

The venin lifts its hands to its eyes and stumbles backward. I take the small opportunity to sprint, but I refuse to look back. 

"Faster!" Gleigeal's shout rattles my brain.

Again, I'm barely up his spine when he launches. The deadzone is only feet away from us, and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. 

"That was far too close." Gleigeal's tone is angry. 

"Liam and Deigh, are they safe?" I ask. 

"They launched in time," He replies, and I nod as I retake my seat. 

Gleigeal and I engage in combat with a group of wyvern, and I've never struggled so hard to keep my seat in my life. The banks and rolls that Glegeal does has my ass lifting out of my seat each time, but it pays off because we manage to take out every single one. So long as we can keep them away from the town, then at least we've done some good. 

"Tairn and Deigh require assistance," Gleigeal tells me, and I look around for them. 

My stomach sinks when I see Violet struggling to hold Liam on top of Tairn. Deigh is fighting the disgusting beast for his and his rider's life.

"I cannot interfere without risking your life," He says as we fly under head. 

"I don't care. Do what you have to!" I shout. I couldn't care less what happens to me so long as my friends live.

My Red Swordtail obliges my request, and I pull the leftover light energy from my hands, ready to wield at a moment's notice. I hold tightly onto his spikes as he interjects himself into the battle where he can to help Deigh. It's still too risky without taking out both the wyvern and Deigh. 

"On the right!" I scream. A riderless wyvern appears, and Gleigeal is forced to let go of the wyvern holding onto Deigh. Luckily, Tairn was there within a second, snapping his teeth into its shoulder. 

Gleigeal turns quick enough to snap his teeth into the wyvern's wing, shaking his head so furiously its wing comes clean off. The wyvern can't level out and has no choice but to accept fate and fall to its death. 

The roar that Gleigeal releases is so loud that it makes my head split. He dives towards the ground and lands roughly, nearly making me fly off of him. I dismount at record speed and rush to where Violet is holding Liam in her lap.

"No," I whisper. "What happened?"

"Deigh is gone."

"Help me get him to Deigh." Violet cries, and I do my best to help lift him. 

"Gleigeal was on the wyvern. I don't understand how this happened." We're stumbling under Liam's dead weight. 

Xaden and Sgayel land a moment later, and Xadeb immediately takes his weight off of us. I follow him as he carries Liam toward Deigh. Liam's speech is weak as he's lying down with his dragon. 

Perfectly healthy Liam is seconds away from his last breath, and there's nothing that can be done. If I can just give him this one thing and lead him into a painless sleep, then I'll do it no matter what the cost is. 

Pain is an emotion just as much as it is a feeling, and Liam is full of it. If I can just... I don't listen to a word he and Xaden are saying, I simply reach my hands for his face. The pain that radiates from his skin at my touch makes me cry out. It isn't just his pain, it's Deigh's too. 

"What are you doing?" Xaden asks. 

"Release him, now," Gleigeal demands, but I ignore him. "Ania, let go!"

"I'm taking his pain," I whimper. I force my hands to stay steady against his cheeks as I absorb every last ounce of it.

Liam deserves to die pain-free. He shouldn't be dying at all. It fucking hurts. 

When I no longer feel anything, I let go and stumble back toward Violet to let Xaden have his moment with his foster brother. 

My knees hit the rocks, and even though she reaches out to make sure I'm okay, her eyes stay locked on Liam and Xaden. 

"What did you do?" She asks. 

I can't answer. I'm trying to control what's happening in the Riorson House library that I built into my head. 

Nothing makes sense. 

Liam is dead.

The first person with a relic that I trusted. The person who gave me so much of his time when I pushed back so hard. He made me care about him, made me let him in. Now, he was gone. 

"Please tell me Bodhi is okay," I beg Gleigeal. 

He's silent for a moment but then chuffs, "They are alive."

Grief barrels at me at breakneck speed, and a scream tears through my throat. It is mixed with Liam's pain and all of our sorrow at the loss of him. 

"You can't do this right now," Violet demands as she cups my cheeks. "You have to finish this battle. Get it under control."

Control it. Don't let it control you.

I take deep breaths that shake my entire chest. 

Focus on one thing.

The theory. To try and dim Violet's anger. It might've backfired earlier, but it worked on Liam. I could feel the pain slowly leave his body and enter mine until there was nothing left to take. 

"Now, Ania!" Violet screams, and I'm brought back to my senses. 

I sit up on my knees, ignoring the way that the ache lingers in my entire body. 

"Tairn needs us to keep the wyvern off of him and Sgayel," Gleigeal tells me. 

When I stand, the world tilts, but I shake my head and move as quickly as I can toward my dragon.

"Then we keep the wyvern off of him and Sgayel," I say out loud as I climb up his foreleg. 

We do just that. Or we try to. 

Everything happens so quickly. One minute, we're in the sky, and the next, Gleigeal screams at me to dismount. 

He barely had time to tell me it was because he wouldn't be able to control his landing with the way a wyvern was on our tail. My running dismount was not the best, and I land in a roll that leaves my entire body in a type of pain I've never felt before. 

When I stand, my left leg nearly gives out, the pain earth-shattering. I think my hip is fractured from the landing. 

"I'm coming back, get ready," Gleigeal says, and a few moments later, he growls. "There are too many on me, I will not lead them back to you."

"Something is wrong with my hip," I cry out. 

This might be where I die. 

The sky is orange from the blistering fire, and the sun is slowly setting. I get so much power from the sun. 

I look down the path, the light posts flickering, when I see the shadow of a venin appear. I unsheath the only alloy-hilted dagger I was given and hope for the best.

As he gets closer, I can tell he likes the fact that he gets to have me in hand-to-hand. It's like he can sense that I'm injured. If he wanted to, he could channel and drain the ground and kill me either way. Still, he approaches me with a devilish smile on his face that chills me to my bone. He'd rather kill me with his bare hands. 

"Thank you for choosing me." I push the thought outward, and I know it's his roar that I hear from the sky. 

"I will not tolerate that talk!" Gleigeal roars. 

"A rider without their dragon," The venin laughs wickedly. "I can't wait to get my hands on you."

"In your dreams," I snarl. 

Within the next heartbeat, he advances on me. One thing I was taught was that venin will adapt to your fighting style, so every couple of seconds, I switch. I fight like Xaden. Then Ridoc. Then Bodhi. Then Liam. Every person I have ever sparred against, every pattern I have ever written into my journal, I use it. 

When I get far enough, I throw a blinding light to catch him off guard. I haven't perfected this skill, but I push out light flares that heat my palms to an unnatural degree. Anything to keep his hands away from me. 

Each flare hits him in the chest, and I shift the particles to heat. He screams, and I know that it likely feels like someone just set a fire in his chest. 

The adrenaline has dulled the pain in my hip, but each step burns. 

While he's distracted by the light burning in his chest, I try to get a read on his emotions. There's nothing but rage and fury. He's just a gray, miserable being. There's nothing to work with. Nothing to manipulate. 

"You are approaching burnout." Gleigeal says. "I can't get to you in time."

"I have made peace with what will happen," I tell him.

The light dies out, and he's on the move towards me again. I'm fucking exhausted and my will to keep going is running thin. I'm not walking away from this alive. 

The venin throws two hits and kicks into my knee, but I don't have the speed nor mobility to stop myself from falling to the ground. I land on my back, my head hitting the ground with a crack.

Everything is happening in slow motion. 

"Back up is coming," Gleigeal assures me. His panic surges through me, but I barely have time to register when the venin stands above me. 

Gray figures are falling around us as lightning cracks across the sky. 

"Thank you for what you are about to give me." The venin says as he crouches down next to me. "I'm going to make this slow and painful." 

The way to kill venin is to strike them with pure power, with which none I have left. 

His hands reach for my wrists, and my eyes flare with panic. He slowly draws power from me, drop by drop, and I scream out, kicking my legs for purchase. 

Gods, this is how I die. 

War Games seems like such a distant memory, a figment of something that doesn't matter. 

Now, I'll be reunited with Mom, Dad, and Beckett. And Liam will be there too. 

"FIGHT." Gleigeal blows the channel, and power surges through me. Energy pulses through my fingertips, and I notice that they're glowing.

Light is not something I bend, it is something that I am. 

Everyone that I have ever lost and ever loved, I use them to push me to grip the venin's face. 

I force every ounce of burning light I have into his skull. It takes a moment, but he screams and fights to pull away. His temples burn bright under my fingers, and his skin his hot to the touch. He releases my wrists, and I force myself to sit up, holding him with a bone-crushing grip. 

I can see the power, my power, burning bright behind his eyes. It takes everything in me, but I can read his fear, and that only pushes me further. He knows I'm winning. 

The power behind his eyes flashes rapidly, and his eyes roll back before he falls limp. I rip my hands away from him and back away from his body.

Wyvern drop out of the sky around us, and I smile tiredly as I look up. A sigh of relief leaves my lungs, and the ground shakes when Gleigeal lands next to me. I almost let myself fall back, but he's there behind me. His entire body is flat as he catches me on his nose. 

"You fought well, Ania," Gleigeal says. 

"Is it over?" I ask. I can barely keep my eyes open. I feel so sleepy now.

"It appears so," He replies.

Several footsteps approach, and I flinch away when someone leans down in front of me. 

"It's just me, sunshine." Bodhi's face is in front of mine, and I blink quickly, trying to determine if he's actually here or if I'm dead. 

"Bodhi," I whisper. He lifts my hands into his, examining my wrists closely. "Is everyone okay?"

"Everyone is fine." He nods quickly. 

"I used too much, I think," I say, and he shakes his head.

"No, you did good," He tells me softly, brushing his thumb against my cheek. He sits against Gleigeal, and if I had the energy, I would be surprised that he allowed it. He pulls me in between his legs against his chest, and I wince. "I'm sorry, Ani. I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry." I use his words against him as I tilt my head upward, with a small smile. 

My arms feel like they have hundred-pound weights strapped to them when I lift my hand to trace his jaw. 

"Beautiful," I say, but the word forms in a whisper. 

I'm still convinced I'm dead and dreaming. 

Resson killed me and everyone I love, and this is me reuniting with Bodhi in the afterlife. 

"Sorrengail is down," I hear another voice to the side. I think it's Garrick. "We need to prepare Xaden for the worst. If we lose Ania too-"

"Garrick." Bodhi snaps before turning his attention back to me.

Oh.

This must be serious. I open the Riorson House library, and nothing streams in from the window. The normally deep green mage lights are gray, and the book that monitors the emotions I allow myself to feel is neatly closed. The library itself, on the other hand, looks like someone set off an explosion in it. The shelves are knocked over, and books scatter the floor. 

"Am I dying?" I ask Bodhi. 

"I don't know," He answers truthfully. A single tear rolls down his cheek. 

"Bodhi, I have to say-" 

"No," He whispers. "Please, don't. Tell me later." 

"Fuck," I hear Garrick mutter. 

"You may rest now, Ania," Gleigeal says. 

I allow myself to succumb to the darkness. 

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