#like your my best friend and my ward and my soulmate and i died for you
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at first I thought that the game had sold my house to some random woman (thank u Clavia for sweeping but you scared the shit outta me) and then I was relieved to know that it was still link's, but then you get inside and all the stuff has been replaced w Zelda's stuff and her journal is in the bedroom and her secret well is down below. I know a bunch of people have said like oh they were living together and I thought that too at first (despite the one bed), but the more I hang around the village the more I'm convinced that Link just gave Zelda his house and kinda fucked off a little. it would go a long way towards explaining how everyone knows zelda but no one knows Link (though that seems to be a common theme), but the greatest evidence imo is when you talk to one of the kids from the school who's waiting for Zelda to return near the house. she asks link if he's going to "zelda's house" and says that zelda often leaves the village but always quickly returns. it seems based on this and the interior décor that the house now firmly belongs to zelda, and link was maybe a non presence in the village after the events of the first game. I wonder if he gave her the house as something of a retreat, a place where she could be alone and recover while also being close to Purah - one of the few other people she knows from Before - and the lab. meanwhile it doesn't seem like there's any space made for link in the house or the village. idk what it all means but I do have enormous feelings about Link giving up the one space that was really his so that zelda could have a home again after hers was destroyed
#long#bro idek#link and zelda's relationship in this specific iteration is so compelling to me#like your my best friend and my ward and my soulmate and i died for you#here's the keys to my house and I'll follow you wherever you want to go and listen when you talk and trust in your decisions#and I'll never say it's too much or that I need something for myself#like on the one hand i think link truly does love zelda and he wants whatever will make her happy#but I also wonder what kind of roll it must take on him#to always be the one making little sacrifices so that she can have what she needs#and what is he supposed to say? no?#how do you set boundaries with someone who gave up 100 years of her life to save everyone#who repeatedly sacrifices herself in huge ways and puts so much faith in you every time#how do you not take every available opportunity to try and repay that debt?#there's so much going on there#i wish the champions were around to psychoanalyze their relationship for me some more#urbosa queen i miss u#totk#tears of the kingdom#spoilers#totk spoilers#legend of zelda#zelda#link
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One More Happy Ending
Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech.
Genre: Remarriage, Romance, Mild angst.
Summary: In which your sick husband asks you to remarry as his final wish.
Warnings:
Character death in the first part. Reader is a female, has a child with Jade and has long hair.
The wedding setup is inspired by one of my fave movies.
â
âIf I would die today, my darling, I would die knowing that your life was my lifeâs best part. I would remember that you were the heart that kept me alive.â
Hanging your head low, you desperately held back the unshed tears from falling.
You couldnât look at your husband without crying because looking at him in that state shattered your heart into pieces.
His illness took a toll on him, but despite being on the brink of death, Jade Leech never lost his smile. His dazzling smile that rivaled the shine of the sun was still present.
âI have one last wish. Would you hear me out and fulfill it, my love?â
âWhat is it, sweetheart?â you got up from the chair, taking the empty space beside him on the hospital bed.
âI wish you all the happiness in the world, so after you move on from my death, I want you to marry Azul.â Jade held your hand, his grip was tight as if his life depended on it. âOnce you get married, donât feel guilty about it.â
He paused briefly, bursting into fits of coughing.
âI know that you love Azul as much as you love me, and he loves you too more than anything.â
Another pause ensued, followed by a weak sigh, then eventually his body went limp and still in your hold.
Minutes later, Dr. Riddle Rosehearts, the doctor in charge who was also your longtime friend rushed inside the ward, his expression heartbroken and crestfallen.
âI pronounce Jade Leech dead. Time of death 10:04 A.M.â He announced tearfully as he pulled you into a consoling hug. âIâm very sorry for your loss.â
After Riddle left, you stared at your deceased husband, allowing your tears to flow freely.
After weeping for a long time, a faint smile embraced your lips as you recalled what Jade told you a week ago.
My darling wife, when I leave this world, I hope youïżœïżœre here beside me.
I hope I look peaceful with the sun shining down on me.
Indeed, Jade died while you were by his side, looking serene and at peace, as if he never suffered from an illness.
He died in a sun-lit room, his face glowed beautifully beneath the mellow sunlight of the autumn season.
âThank you for sharing your love and your life with me. You made my dreams come true, and I am forever grateful.â you smiled, brushing one last kiss on his face.
â
â
As you and Azul placed a bouquet of violets in front of Jadeâs gravestone, a painful pang struck you like a bullet.
Seven years flew by since you lost Jade, and the heartache was still there.
When he died, you and Azul couldnât tuck him in your hearts because he couldnât fit.
He died young, and before his time, so you couldnât seal him away like that because sealing meant forgetting.
âI loved Jade from the moment I met him. We were like long lost soulmates who finally found each other.â you said softly, gazing at the wide, blue sky.
âHe was really a great friend.â Azul chimed in, smiling afterwards.
Despite not moving on from his death, you and your best friend still managed to find new happiness and new beginnings.
You lived a joyful life with your daughter whom you were expecting when Jade passed away.
She was named Daisy, in loving memory of your late husband who always gifted you bouquet of daisies during your dates.
She was born five months after his death, and she was seven years old at the moment.
Daisy was the female version of Jade.
She had the same glimmering mismatched eyes and gorgeous teal hair except hers was wavy, and the way she smiled was exactly like him.
She was a little prankster and mischievous like her uncle Floyd, and she enjoyed teasing you a lot.
She was your light when all hopes were lost, and thatâs what you loved about her the most.
â
â
âUncle Azul!â Daisy clung onto Azulâs leg.
Although the latter was busy baking, he still acknowledged the girl.
âYes, my little flower?â
âWhen will I start going to an elite school like NRC?â
âWhen you turn sixteen.â Azul glanced down at her.
âHmph, still a long way.â Daisy pouted.
He lifted her in his arms, and with a grin, he smeared a blob of icing on her tiny nose.
âGee uncle, why do you always smear icing on my nose every time you bake?â
âBecause I love you.â The silver haired man smiled, lightly pinching the childâs cheeks.
âAnd I love you more than mama.â your daughter giggled, putting her small arms around Azul.
âDaisy Leech, how dare you say that!â
They froze upon hearing your voice. They turned around, only to see you glaring at them in a playful manner.
âOh, hey dear best friend.â Azul grinned.
âTsk, you and your stupid grin.â
âUncleâs grin is not stupid!â
âJust kidding.â you chuckled as you stood beside Azul.
While watching him putting icing on the blueberry cake which he usually baked during Sunday mornings, you felt your daughter tugging on your sleeve.
âMama and uncle Azul, can we sit down for a few minutes? I have something to tell you.â
Upon hearing that, the man set down the icing nozzle as he sat on the floor, and you followed suit.
âLast night someone visited me in my dreams. I think the man was my late father.â said your daughter. âHe asked me if uncle Azul is treating us well. I told him yes, and I told him that he makes mama so happy. Father seemed relieved hearing my answer.â
âUncle Azul, I know itâs not my place to say this, but will you do the honor to marry my mama, and adopt me?â The girl reached for your best friendâs hand, her eyes glistening. âI always considered you a family, but I want us to be a real family.â
It wasnât shocking hearing such thing from your child, but you didnât expect that she would bring this topic in the open one day.
âI would be happy to marry your mother and have you as my daughter, but only if your mama is okay with it.â Azul glanced at you, a gentle smile adorning his face.
âOf course Iâm okay with it.â you returned the same smile, feeling a new love blooming in the empty space in your heart.
â
â
(Two years later)
Today was supposed to be your another big day, but it was postponed due to a small incident.
Three days ago, you were hanging out with your daughter in your treehouse, and while heading down, you missed a step and fell down.
The treehouse wasnât high, but it still left you with one twisted ankle.
You werenât upset, but you were a little sad that your wedding was postponed until you recovered.
Unbeknown to you, your friends already planned everything.
âRise and shine. You gotta get ready.â Floyd gently shook your sleeping figure awake.
âGet ready for what?â you mumbled before fluttering your eyes open.
âFor your wedding.â Floyd leaned forward, a big grin plastered on his face.
âWhat wedding are you talking about? Itâs postponed for a week.â
Floyd could only giggle, looping an arm around your body to help you get up.
Once Floyd was done with your makeup and your other friends helped you dress up, you headed to the wedding venue.
You could swear that your friends were creative.
With a permission granted from the hospital administrators, a makeover was done to the hospitalâs cafeteria, turning it into a wonderful wedding hall.
âYou guys really did this?â you marveled at the beauty of the place.
âYeah, and Azul helped too.â
âW-what? He really did?â
âI know that heâs the groom, but it was honestly your man's idea in the first place.â Floyd winked at you.
Thrilled and giddy with excitement, you clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle your squeals.
âYouâre one lucky lady.â Floyd remarked, chuckling softly.
â
â
Once all the invited guests arrived, your chosen wedding soundtrack started to play in the background.
Your right hand was in Floydâs grasp, fingers interlaced, and your other hand was holding tight onto the crutch.
âScared?â He asked quietly, his thumb brushing your knuckles to calm your nerves.
âNot at all.â you beamed a smile. âJust make sure I wonât fall.â
âYou wonât,â Floyd smiled back. âYou have me.â
The two of you began walking down the aisle, heads high, and postures calm and relaxed.
You looked beautiful in your simple yet stunning wedding gown, handpicked by Mrs. Leech, your previous mother-in-law.
Your hair was curled, radiating beneath the lights, and a pretty crown of blue daisies sat atop your head.
You teared up when you neared Azul, and you almost cried when you spotted your beloved nine year old daughter in the front row, cheering for you.
âIâm so happy for you, mama.â she said, smiling brightly.
â
â
âDo you, Azul Ashengrotto take (...) to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her and cherish her to the end of your days?â
Azul looked at you, drowning into your gaze, and your enchanting smile spared him a breath.
âI do.â He exclaimed as he placed the ring on your finger. âFrom this day forward, I promise you that even when the skies tear apart, even when the sun burns out and the lights go out, I will love you to whatever end awaits us.â
The man who officiated the ceremony turned to you.
âDo you, (...) take Azul Ashengrotto to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him and cherish him to the end of your days?â
âI do.â you responded, eyes glittering like gemstones. âFrom this day forward, I vow to share my love, my happiness and my sadness with you. As long as we shall live, I will be here for you, for love and death go together.â
The man announced. âI now pronounce you husband and wife.â
As soon as you and Azul shared a kiss, the room erupted with clapping, gleeful cheers and cheerful squeals.
Some had happy smiles on their faces, and some had tears of joy in their eyes.
It was a heartwarming feeling seeing the guests genuinely happy and excited for you, but what mattered the most at the moment was the two of you.
Under the bright blue skies, you found a home in each other, and youâd never be apart.
For you and Azul, home was never a certain place.
It was anywhere as long as you were together.
#âŠđ hannah's musings#twst#twisted wonderland#female reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader#azul x you#twst x azul#azul ashengrotto#jade leech x reader#jade x reader#twst x jade leech#twst x jade#floyd leech x reader#twst x floyd leech#twst x floyd#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fanfic#twst fanfiction#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland fanfiction
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20 questions for fic writers
tagged by @2btheanswertothequestion. ty for thinking of me!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
rn i have 23 but i have number 24 going up soon đ
2. Whatâs your total AO3 word count?
202,248
3. What fandoms do you write for?
rn i'm in my chrissy cunningham phase (stranger things) but i'm still in my overarching sansa stark phase (asoiaf). i have been known to do a rewatch and dip back into my jemma simmons phase (agents of shield). and i'll always sort of be in my lily evans phase (marauders).
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
i carry it in mine (asoiaf, jon/sansa canonish soulmate au)
all the best people see you (all the best people know) (stranger things, chrissy/robin s4 au)
i remember (i remember) (asoiaf, jon/sansa canon drabble)
in any world (in any way) (asoiaf, sansa-centric au graphics collection)
the royal records (asoiaf, jon princess diaries au)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
usually!! i really like getting comments and i guess i have assumed that having someone respond incentivizes them so i always want to incentivize comments!! i think it is i polite to say thank you also. and i mean i love to talk about my fic so i'm always like "oh y'all tryna chat????" but usually nobody is trying to chat back ahhahaha. sometimes i hide from comments if i'm feeling guilty about not updating something but i always appreciate comments and they're usually p motivating to me
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
hmmm. most of my fics are like alternate media-based au concepts or lil oneshots or stories that are yet to have endings, so hard to say exactly which is angstiest.
i think my angstiest story is a pre-hydra reveal agents of shield one i did as a secret santa for someone where fitz was dead(?!!?!?) and grant ward showed up to bring jemma simmons back to the team and that was yeaaaaars ago but whenever i think of it i'm always like ok wow i hope that is what that person wanted. what bold choices to make in a gift for a stranger!!
other than thaaat i do think of i carry it in mine as a fairly angsty fic but it's intended to have a not so angsty ending so
7. Whatâs the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
well please trust that any princess diaries or miss congeniality au is going to end up with the main ship getting together, presumably happily for the rest of their lives!! desert hearts (aka all the best people see you all the best people know) is heading towards a happy ending. howl (sansa-centric scream au) i think will have roughly as happy an ending as any horror movie final girl can hope for.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
ummmm not really. i definitely have but the only time it felt like anything other than a one-off was when i essentially started tumblr beef by wandering into the wrong tag. and that was not fun and people were hating on their own blogs for a min BUT it died down and nobody really went out of their way to bother me directly about it after that, so it was not ideal but it was fine. tagging etiquette is tricky!!
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
hmmmmmmmm historically no. but i have outlined smut!! and i'm thinking about actually writing some maybe even soon!! it's interesting bc i've discussed smut with friends and edited for them and used to roleplay and write smut scenes and that all felt fine but i haven't yet wrapped my head around the idea of being like "this is my little smut scene i made up all by myself and now i'm broadcasting it to the masses." feels like i'm opening myself up to psychoanalysis!! but also maybe once i actually write the smut scene i'll be like oh. no biggie. ok post. so we'll see hahahahah
10. Do you write crossovers? Whatâs the craziest one youâve written?
not crossovers in the traditional sense but crossovers in the sense that i pick up my little blorbos and cast them in other tv shows/movies/etc, yes, constantly.
i mentioned howl above but i love that one, my sansa-centric scream au. i love jon snow mia thermopolis princess diaries hahahahah. i think it's cute and funny. i love using robin and chrissy from stranger things to make miss congeniality gay. the fic i'm posting in a few days for the stranger things rare pair big bang is also about robin and chrissy in a lil reality tv verse, so that one is really fun and silly and sweet too i think.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
i don't think so! the only time anything like this has happened to me was like a tumblr rp blog misunderstanding a long time ago.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
no but that would be cool!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
no but i started writing mainly through role playing! so that was co-writing just in a different sense, and i miss that. it's also just really fun to talk about ideas and stuff with friends and then not always actually have to write them. i do play around with concepts a lot with @mistysharks and @beholdthemem for chrissy and the stranger things teen crew, and @cellsshapedlikestars and i also help each other brainstorm sansa and jon related asoiaf stuff which i always super appreciate
14. Whatâs your all time favorite ship?
i'm more of a favorite ship per fandom kind of gal than a favorite ship over all, but i'm also a multishipper in that i can kind of get into my main blorbos with anyone. i'm super still in my chrissy phase rn and i love writing her with robin, but also in a lil steve/chrissy/eddie ot3. that said i feel like i mainly read hellcheer!!
15. Whatâs a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i hope it doesn't surprise anyone to hear that i DO have designs to finish i carry it in mine!! and howl. and desert hearts. like i have specific enough endings in mind that i am working towards for all of those.
the wip that i wish i could finish but know i never will is my marauders mediator series au based on the meg cabot books where lily can talk to ghosts and james is a ghost. i started writing it like back in 2015!! and then even started rewriting it in 2020. and i still love it. but it would be a big project to take on and one that would take a lot more work to figure out, let alone just write, and i don't really see it happening. that said i will always love it!!!
i also started a resurrection au marauders story where lily etc all start coming back to life when harry is like 24 so seven years after the end of the books, and i always thought the like emotional drama in that was so slay too. but the resurrection show itself never really had good answers for the paranormal plot/how it would play out and so i didn't have anything to crib off of lmao. and i never really invested much thought into figuring it out myself iirc. so i never really knew like plotwise where i wanted it to go so much as i was just like "how would the characters react if this happened" but i did like that thought exercise. maybe i would've written more if it would've felt like that would be satisfying to read for other people without actual like. plot.
16. What are your writing strengths?
ummm i'm really interested in like. character profiles. so i think i tend to gravitate towards that sort of story personally. a character figuring themselves/what they want out.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
low key i just like almost never write physical description stuff into my stories?? like it's all fanfiction so i'm like ok first of all you already know what everybody looks like. it takes a lot more active effort for me to be like. does the reader need to know what the character looks like right now?? does the reader need to have a clear vision of where the characters are?? what the room looks like?? i could probably afford to do that more but i find that i tend to skip it a lot
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
hmmm i really only have one fic where that might apply i think. i'd probs try to do it minimally bc i wouldn't want to do a bad job but if it's just one line i could see myself just, you know, doing google translate if i don't know a speaker i can run it by
19. First fandom you wrote for?
harry potter!! i found my way to marauders era pretty quick.
20. Favorite fic youâve written?
i have a lot of love and tenderness in my heart for desert hearts and i carry it in mine. so far those are like my heart-squeezey fics imo. but i also love howl!!! a combination of some of my favorite interests and stories. i feel like these are my main three wips too so i gotta just keep tinkering away until a new chapter falls out. hopefully sooner than later for desert hearts and i carry it in mine, which i have in fact been reorganizing a lil lately!!
anyway!!
ty again for the tag @2btheanswertothequestion!! if you want to do this: @cellsshapedlikestars @mistysharks @beholdthemem @chdarling
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i promise iâll stop spamming you from here haha
yijung was a character with misplaced potential imo. he probably is more interesting just BECAUSE heâs played by beom but there were moments that i felt his and gaeulâs story should have been the main one, with or without the pottery teacher. likeâŠyeah junpyoâs problems never compelled me in any way and gaeul was similar enough to jandi that the same arc could have been made with her instead. idk. maybe the other versions of bof do it all better đ€·đ»ââïž
i love how thereâs this split between the headcanon of aroace 2020!rang because he doesnât reciprocate to yuriâs kiss and then the headcanon of playboy rang who had one night stands to fill the void. i donât really know what version i prefer (at least in 2020âin 1938 iâm very happy about his romance) but iâll read your fic, that might help!
also YES SINGING BEOM UGH I LOVE HIS VOICE đ
-kbcu anon
Ah, no, youâre not at all spamming me! Do pop in whenever you feel like talking about Beom - I love having these conversations.
One thing I definitely agree with you on - Yi-jung/Ga-eul deserved more screen time. They looked so perfect together. Whenever they werenât on screen I hit the fast-forward button because I quickly grew tired of Jun-pyo and Jan-di and her ji-hoo is my soulmate but I love jun-pyo. But then, like I said, Iâm not the target age group for BOF.
And yeah, another actor doing this role wouldnât have interested me this much. Beomâs dimples did 90% of the trick â€ïžâ€ïž
In my view, playboy!Rang would suit 2020!Rang, assuming season 2 didnât happen and season 1 ended at episode 15 - I wouldâve been fine with that - never cared about season 1 Yeon and the lesser I talk about Ji-ah, the better (everyone who has interacted with me knows how ardently I hate that character). Getting a man like Rang with a wounded past to warm up to a woman he considers just a nightâs playmate would be interestingâŠ
BTW, I felt 2020!Rangâs non-reaction to Yu-riâs kiss on his cheek was not because heâs aroace, but because he just doesnât think of her like that. She is his ward, someone he rescued just like Soo-oh, someone he wants to protect. Yeah, a man and a woman can just be friends and thatâs what they are (though Id have loved it if they were developed into a couple)
And⊠I simply refuse to believe 2020!Rang to be a virgin. 1938, yes, but not this charmer with a devilish smirk đ
Also, a little off topic - have you watched The woman who still wants to marry? Beom is absolutely swoon-worthy in that!
About Beomâs singing live - which song did you like the best?
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Incantatrice
Chapter 5
CW:mentions of past alcohol abuse, recovering from alcoholism.
âI thought you said youâd quit drinking.â Her uncle said with a disapproving look as Eva emptied a small bottle of cheap tequila sprawled dramatically on the little sitting room attached to her bedroom.
She can drink socially, but even then, itâs like playing Russian roulette.
This time, she hadnât stopped until the ugly cheap drink that used belong to the chauffer was as empty as⊠well, her.
âWeâre having dinner with my fiancĂ©; I think Iâm allowed a drink.â She said feeling a little buzzed from having drunk something she was no longer used to.
âYou shouldâve worn the blue dress your Aunt Alejandra suggested, black isnât a color a future bride should wear.â He says as if Eva was still the little girl who heâd braid the ribbons his daughter, Alejandra, hated.
He had four daughters and only one son. Patricia, Maria Jose, Alejandra and Magdalena. Well, three, Alejandra refused to be his third daughter and went by Alejandro even when they were children. Even now, Ale refused to act like a girl and was given Abuelitaâs blessing to fake her death and come back as Alejandro, dead Tio Benjaminâs bastard son.
Pato used to be her favorite uncle once upon a time, but then heâd become unreasonable. Especially when he knew the agony she was going through and expected to shut the door to the past and be the woman he thinks she should be.
Even now they can hardly stand being in each otherâs presence without her wanting to scream at him for putting the company first.
And that was probably what made him the head of the family, that he can run the ship and carry the burden on his shoulders without buckling underneath it all.
âIt was going to clash with his bowtie. Besides, he should get used to me wearing black, itâs my favorite color.â She says as if it had been obvious. It had been to her, but Eva tends to forget the world doesnât function like it does for her.
Eva wears black, not really for mourning, but because she genuinely likes the color.
Black dress with a diamond dress cinch clip to emphasize her somewhat hourglass figure, worth more than what her future husband currently makes, and Eva is really hoping there is no Italian superstition regarding the color.
Although she was enjoying that grab Lucaâs crotch to ward off bad luck thing, enjoying it enough to pay a hearse to pass by when he took her for a drive this morning.
âOf all the men suggested, whyâd you choose him?â he asks the question on everyoneâs minds since she told them that was the man she wanted.
âSomething just clicked when I saw him at the Opera with Riccardo Spinetta, like âoh, there you areâ and it just felt like a sign.â Eva shouldnât believe in soulmates, at least not after the whole shitshow with Antonia last year, but she does. And because she knows Patricio thinks sheâs just being naĂŻve she throws a low punch, easier to hurt him when he is being Tio Pato and not Don Patricio. âIt really feels like maybe this time things will work out for me.â
As far as he knows her only boyfriend died a few months after Gabriel in 1915. He had been here in Fifth Avenue ever since Huerta exiled him in 1914, so he is almost entirely unaware about the whole Eva and Antonia being in a relationship while Antonia and Francisco had been on a secret relationship.
âI just want whatâs best for you, but if you think you can handle a man like him, then I will support your decision.â Ah, so a âif he steps out of line I wonât hesitate to make you a widow even if you donât agree with killing himâ sign of approval.
âDid you have to invite Antonia?â she asks even if its fucking impossible not to invite his own heir to a family gathering.
âWhatever disagreement you had with your best friend must be left in the past, our family canât be seen as divided and I canât ban my sonâs wife from the house because the two of you fought.â And now Don Patricio was back.
----
âHeâs got an interesting nose.â Izzy wiggled his eyebrows. âI wonder if what they say about narizones is true.â
âWhat do they say about narizones, Nacho?â nine-year old Maddy, or little Madgalena Riley, asks as her older cousins try to come up with a good enough lie.
âYou know I forgot, kind of like how you forget your name is Magdalena whenever we take you to the park.â Israel deflected and completely changed the topic.
Little Magda would grow up American, and Americans didnât have long traditional names like Magdalena.
âThey canât say my name here. They said it sounds funny, so I just let them call me Maddy.â Maddy doesnât seem bothered by itâŠyet.
She will when sheâs older and learns that even small children are capable of being racist.
âDoes that mean that you are lying about forgetting what having a big nose means?â Maddy asked Israel Ignacio âNachoâ de Souza who is now anxiously looking at Eva for a rescue.
Would it be too mean to let him squirm just a little longer?
âThat, um, they are really smart and poweful, like your papi, kid.â Izzy pats himself on the back with that clever save. âJust donât bring it up during dinner, might scare Evitaâs boyfriend and then the wedding will be cancelled.â
âTe lo prometo.â The Little girl said and pretended to zip her mouth shut.
Eva doesnât know if itâs the cheap mezcal or her own anxiety making her feel nauseous.
Nothing ends well when a prospective suitor meets her family.
Diosdado turned out to have had his way with half of the maids in Altamira ---an impressive feat given he was from Cuidad Juarez, Chihuahua, and Altamira was a thousand six hundred miles away hidden in the border between Veracruz and Tamaulipas.
Antonia met Franco at a formal dinner thrown for him when he graduated from the Complutense University of Madrid in 1917 and instantly felt drawn to him.
Luca better be the exception.
----
âIf this is how you look every evening, I am never missing dinner.â Luca greeted her with a peck on the lips, that is the most he can do in the presence of her family.
âI bet you wonât be saying that after tonight.â And there she goes and ruins this moment.
âDonna di poca fede. It will take more than petty insults to pry me from your side, Evuccia.â he says making her wish they could just skip the formalities and get straight to the part where they all like him as much as she does.
At least her fucking mother-in-law isnât here.
âIf you do run for the hills, do it before the dessert course, my cousinâs wife has money on you running for your life and I want her to lose badly.â Izzy interrupts coming in with his mother on his arm.
âIsrael, we said no gambling tonight, what will Mr. Changretta think?â Olivia scolded her favorite child. âA pleasure to see you again, Mr. Changretta. Allow me to introduce my son---â
âFavorite son.â Israel interjects.
âAnd casual gambler, Israel de Souza.â His mother smirked. Olivia was a stunning woman even at the age of fifty, tall and regal with coppery red hair and dark eyes. Almost no Riley had inherited Patrickâs blue eyes, everyone here had the sharp brown eyes like Dominga and the women who came before her.
After all, it was Lidia Chapul who built up their company with her bare hands and what better way to honor her than by having her eyes be the defining trait of her descendants.
âCall me Izzy.â Izzy extended his hand in greeting and made it worse. âMy mother has a lot of confidence in you surviving the night, Changretta, but she is a lady and ladies donât gamble. I, however, have no such issue and look forward to the five hundred pesos I will win when you survive your trial by fire.â
âHow much is that in dollars?â her fiancĂ© asks with an intrigued look in his eyes.
Luca likes a challenge, likes winning, so competitive he robbed the art gallery himself just for her.
âFive thousand dollars. We can split it fifty-fifty if you want, cugino.â Izzy smirked despite his mother digging her nails into the soft flesh of his arm.
âSixty-forty and you have a deal.â Luca shook Israelâs hand.
âSee, I told you were worrying for nothing, mi perla.â Olivia assured her niece who was bracing herself for a fall.
----
Narizon: man with big nose
Te lo prometo: i promise (informal)
Donna di poca fede: woman of little faith
Cugino: cousin
Mi perla: my pearl
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ok could you write a canon divergence fic where james and lily beat voldemort/ survive (idk maybe prongs stabbed him with his antlers idk) and their happy and safe. (Itâs like set straight after the first war assuming Voldemort like died) but then we see the breakdown of wolfstar cause siruis was the one who thought Remus was the spy? And like even if it was wartime and everyone was âparanoidâ it doesnât excuse the fact that the one thing wouldâve killed remus inside (his friends not trusting him cause he was a âdark creatureâ) was the reason the love of his life didnt trust him. essentially sad wolfstar hours :(
They meet in the hospital, in a darkly-paneled corridor at the corner of the emergency ward. Flickering ward lights hover just above Siriusâ head, strangely elongated shadows stretching out across the floor.
Heâs exhausted. He doesnât know how long heâs been standing for - an hour? Two hours? They hadnât let him in yet - they were still running tests on James and Lily, testing for curses and jinxes and god knew what else the death of a Dark Lord could do to somebody.
He knows it was a scene heâd forever see in his nightmares, mixed with Walburga and wars and the unseeing eyes of his brother. A blown-out house; shattered windows, broken doors, dust sifted with ashes on the ground. Blood splattered on the walls in an almost elegant arc. The single, reedy cry of Harry, bundled in Lilyâs arms as she protected him with her body, shrapnel embedded under her skin. James on his back, head tipped back against the stairs, neck a hollow arc pointing up at the sky.
Sirius paces back and forth now; his mouth tastes of blood and ash. Heâs bitten through his lip again, into sores that hadnât yet healed and it stings as he runs his tongue over the raw flesh. The clock ticks mockingly next to him, each second an hour, each minute a lifetime.
Heâs never been to a hospital, not alone like this. Thereâs always been someone with him; James or Lily or even -
âSirius?â
Sirius has gotten used to the feeling of guilt - ice seeping through his stomach, the bitter taste of bile. He feels himself tense; muscle locking, spine going rigidly straight, heart pounding in his ribcage as he closes his eyes. âRemus.â
They donât say anything. Thereâs nothing to say. The argument still hangs in the air between them, ghosts of people theyâd used to be.
Nothing prepares him for the raw panic in Remusâ voice, the fear as he noticed the blood on Siriusâ arms, on his face, the dirt and the ash and the streaks of grey. âAre you - â
âNot mine,â Sirius chokes out, chokes on pain and love and 15 years of memories wrapped up in scars. âIâm fine.â
âJames - Lily - fuck, Harry - â
âI donât know,â He runs a shaking hand over his face, trembling hard enough that he actually has to lean against the wall to stop himself from falling over. âHarryâs - heâs okay, he was crying when I found him, I think, and Lilyâs back is shredded but James - he was breathing but we donât know what happened, only that he killed - he might have killed - â
âWhere are they.â
Sirius shakes his head. His throat aches, and when he lowers his hands he sees blood smeared across his palms. âWeâre not allowed to see them. Theyâve been in for hours at least.â
Silence. Sirius can feel Remus - heâs always been hyper aware when it came to him, catalogued the way the air seemed to shift whenever Remus was nearby. He knows that if he turns around Remus will be watching him; amber eyes, silver scars, steady enough to cut through the webs of fear that Sirius had spun around himself.
âNo one told me,â Remus begins softly, and in someway it hurts more. In someway Sirius had always knew that theyâd end like this - a flame dying out, something beautiful until it stopped. âDid you know that? No one told me what hospital I needed to go to, or how severe their injuries were. Hell, no one even told me that James and Lily were hurt in the first place. I only found out after Kingsley sent me an owl.â
The blows land. Sirius almost welcomes it, welcomes the stabbing pain that shoots through him, the twisted blade of guilt that Remusâ words caused.
âWhat was it?â Remus breathes and theyâve had this conversation so many times before. At the gates to werewolf camps and in the rain, in their shared apartment and pressed up against the wall, fingers bruising skin and cutting into flesh. âWhat made you think I was the spy? Was it the fact that I was gone? That I was already spying? Did you just not believe me anymore?â
âRemus - â
âOr was it because I was a werewolf? Because the whole Order distrusted me - hell, even Dumbledore distrusted me. Was it because of that?â
âWhat would you have done?â Sirius says - his voice is hoarse. âI was trying to keep them safe.â
âI kept them safe,â Remus says in an awful, hollow voice. âI kept them safe and I didnât fuck over my - my - â
Boyfriend, Sirius thinks. Boyfriend and lover and partner and soulmate and best friend and -
âI canât apologize,â he finally gets out. Heâs exhausted - everything suddenly seems so cold, his entire body shaking. âI thought you were the spy. I thought a lot of things. I was wrong. But I canât apologize for trying to protect them.â
âYou thought wrong.â
âAnd Iâm - Iâm sorry. For that.â Sirius closes his eyes - he sees the hollow skeleton of the house and wants to cry. âWe promised. Anything to protect Harry. That weâd sacrifice each other to do so. Remember that? A year ago?â
âI remember,â Remus says softly. âBut I also remember you telling me that youâd let the world burn before pushing me away.â
Sirius cards his hands through his hair, fingers burning from the hundreds of tiny cuts on his palms. His arms and wrists are destroyed from digging through broken glass, splinters from fallen wood beams dark lines against his skin. âThatâs not fair.â
âNo,â Remus agrees. âItâs not.â
It sounds like a secret. It sounds like a goodbye.
âDonât cry,â Remus says, and god Sirius remembers all the times they used to say that to each other, the desperate plea to keep your head up, keep going, stay strong. No matter what, we have each other.
âWould it hurt more to tell you that I love you?â he whispers, and even that burns coming out.
Remus pauses - the ward lights form a halo around his head and for a moment Sirius thinks he can remember the boys they used to be, the boys who loved whole heartedly, the boys who thought they were forever.
âYes,â Remus says, and he smiles, heartbreakingly beautiful. âBut it hurts even more to know that I loved you too.â
#Wolfstar#Wolfstar angst#Wolfstar fanfic#Sirius black#Remus lupin#jily#Sirius black angst#Remus lupin angst#wolfstar fanfiction#Sirius black x Remus lupin#Harry Potter#hp#Marauders era
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Strands of Webbing
A Spiderverse Fanfic
Prompts 205-216
âTo Love a Parkerâ
First | Previous | Next
205. Timing
âYou know I love you, right?â asks Gray.
CLANG.
The worst time for this conversation is any time. The second-worst is when sheâs doing engineering work.
âGoddamnâare you okay?â he calls, reaching under SP//dr to try and pull her outâ
She revs back on the hoverpad quickly, and sits up.
And regrets it. âUghhh...â
One cooling-pack later, she adds, âOkay, can you say that again? A little clearer?â
Grayâs blushing. (He blushes in grey.)
âItâs just...I told the other guys I loved them before I went home, but youâd already gone by that time. And youâre important to me too. So...yeah.â
âAs in, like, family, or...â
âDonât know,â he admits. âKinda like family. Kinda like friends. Kinda like soulmates. Kinda like spiders.â He grins sheepishly. âMight have been a bit out of it to actually say it, but...â
Peni rolls her eyes, feeling a smile slide up her face.
âDid any of them say it back?â she asks.
âUm...not exactly.â
â...can I say it back?â
âSay what?â
âThat youâre important to me and I love you too.â
â...oh, see, âsay whatâ is an expression used toâoh. ...uh. ...are you sure?â
âYes Iâm sure, you big dummy!â
He grins. âJust making certain.â
âNow gimme a hug. You owe me one for bumping my head.â
Kind of like family. Kind of like friends. Kind of like soulmates. Kind of like spiders.
Yes, she can relate.
206. Fans
Yes, the previous Spider-Man was popular. Very popular. Thing is, though, he was popular because he was human. He was what everyone wanted to beâstrong and confident and having so much fun, but always remembering to do the right thing. Heâd also remember your name, more often than not. It made you feel...special.
There was a rumour going around the city, when Miles was growing up, that his name was Ben. Rio saw a lot of Bens and Benjamins during her stint in the maternity ward. A lot of Benedictas as well, and a few Japanese newborn girls with Ben as a middle name.
Come the announcement of his death, there are a lot more Peters and Petras and even a few Parkers.
Miles...actually does understand. Really, he does. Itâs just that he kind of doesnât know how heâd feel about running into a dozen Mini-Mileses on patrol. So heâs just going to leave it at that, and definitely not bring it up to anyone.
(He might not say no to one or two Aarons, though.)
207. Yorkshireman
I tell my tale anew.
My name is Peredur the Respected, Peredur y Parchedig. An ironic title among my peers, to be sure, for I am best respected by the Romans who took our land and built the town of Eboracum here. I was bitten by the goddess Arianrhod, and for the past four years I have been the one and only Spider-Man.
Until today.
âI thought British people could all understand each other?â complains the fay princess.
âWhat part of âheâs speaking some weird ancient dialect of Welsh, which is not Englishâ is so difficult to understand here, Mayday?â argues the fay prince.
Arianrhodâs Presence helps me understand them (obscure vocabulary aside), but they do not, it seems, understand me without pantomime.
And apparently donât like the insinuation that theyâre bickering like my aunt and uncle. (You know how difficult that was to imitate?)
So there I am, trying to argue with two spiderling elves when they canât understand a word Iâm saying, when the Not So Benevolent Goblin shows up to fight.
...well, this is exactly what I expected this Thursday.
208. Tolerance
From nine years old, Peni Parker knew she had to be the best. From the moment her father diedâthe moment she became SP//drâshe knew that every moment she spent being unable to do her job meant billions of New York Credits worth of losses and hundreds of thousands of lives at stake. The world couldnât afford for her to slack. She knows Aunt May and Uncle Ben love her, in their own way, itâs just...well, they couldnât afford to let love get in the way of duty.
Maybe thatâs why she disliked Miles at first, and to a certain extent Peter B. for showcasing him. Aunt May and Uncle Ben hadnât let her out into the field before they knew she wasnât going to cost anyone their lives by her actionsâthat sheâd be performing at peak levels all the time. Miles hadnât had even a hundredth of her training, and he expected to get them home?
Maybe thatâs why she dislikes Cindy Moon. She shouldnât. Sheâs older now and knows it isnât her fault. But the girl was hidden away in some bunker somewhere for training, hiding from...something which either her mentor didnât specify or which they did but which she wonât tell anyone else. And then she left. Started work as a superhero, when if she was in any way not ready then she risked her life and the lives of her fellow New Yorkersâand which risked attracting her mentor slash possible captor. Psychic spatiotemporal breach aside (what Gray calls the Sixth Sense and Ham calls Web-Sense and most of the others call Spider-Sense), preparation is key.
It took all of a day to warm up to Miles, but then everyone knows that the second-best way to learn is under intense life-threatening pressure. With Cindy, sheâll have to take the long way around.
(Not that she has any personal biases to examine, just, you know, sheâs open to being persuaded on a long-term basis.)
209. Album
Peter B. turns out to be exactly the kind of dad who carries around pictures of his wife and kid with him in his wallet. Which is great, except if you get him started heâll talk about them for hours.
âIs it weird that I donât know how to feel about him discussing his daughter who has my name?â asks Mayday. âWho might as well be me?â
âNo weirder than him talking about his wife who has my name,â says Mary-Jane. âAlthough, to be fair, sheâs okay.â
âLucky. Other Me is still a toddler. And you know the worst part? Dad sometimes joins in!â
âParallel-Daughter, can we agree that this Peter is weird?â says Carnage.
âAbsolutely, Parallel-Mom,â says Spider-Girl. â...actually, now that you mention it, is there anything embarrassing I should know about my mom? Given that youâre still a teenager and all.â
âHmm. I donât know...â
âBlackmail material might mean extra time for ice cream in Gwenâs world.â
âHave I ever told you about the incident with the birdhouse?â
âNope. Spill.â
âYes it did...â
210. Parenting
Four-year-old Peter B. Parker isnât sure whatâs going on. Heâs leaving the flat behind because Mommy and Daddy...well, something happened. But now his Aunt May and Uncle Ben are taking him to their home, and saying itâs where heâs going to be staying from now on.
Heâs mad about that. He knows he shouldnât be, but he is. Where are Mommy and Daddy? Why arenât they coming home?
The first night, he cries himself to sleep. And the second. And the third. He wonât let them in.
But on the fourth night, just like before, Aunt May and Uncle Ben knock at the door of his new room. (He hates his room. He hates that he doesnât hate his room.) And just like before, Uncle Ben asks:
âPeter...can we come in?â
Tonight, though, something in him breaks. Something in him says, â...yes, Uncle Ben.â
He doesnât want the hug. He doesnât. He doesnât like how much he needs the hug. Or needs Uncle Ben to sing him Daddyâs lullaby, without changing the tune or the words even if his voice is new and scratchy. Or needs Aunt May to kiss his forehead like Mommy did, smelling so different and yet so right. Or needs, needs so badly, then being here until he falls sound asleep.
Theyâre not his Mommy and Daddy.
...but they chose to take care of him, thinks four-year-old Peter. Mommy and Daddy are gone, and he would give the world to bring them backâbut the world doesnât include Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Not if it means losing them too.
211. Singular
âMakes you kinda unique,â says Goggles. âMost of us either have our families right behind us or want to keep them well away from the job.â
Cindy shrugs. âYay me, I guess.â
"Seriously, though. Youâre already taking to this world like a fish to water, even though itâs not the one you left behind. That takes moxie, doll. Take it from me."
Heâs loosened up in the past four years; he doesnât even mind taking his mask (and, yes, his goggles) off in her world anymore. Mind you, so has she. Finding her little brother has helped a lot, even if Mom and Dad are still missing. Albert is an absolute pain and a joy to have around and sheâs missed himâ
âAnd what the hell was he doing with the Goblin Nation?â That she still canât understand. It was only three weeks, thank God, but three weeks is still too long. And he was on his own for two years before that, basically. Where were her parents?
Goggles sighs, and takes her hand. Itâs a surprisingly forward gesture for him, even after four years.
âHeâs gotta tell you that for himself, sweetheart. But he will. Count on it. And youâre gonna get them back.â
âYeah. Yeah, I can do it. I can get them back.â
He grins. Itâs an infectious grin. And heâs still holding her hand. (Maybe sheâs holding his too.)
âNot long now. Iâm sure of it. Youâve got the fire for it, sweetheart.â
...maybe she shouldnât have kissed his cheek like that. Bit late to think of that three seconds post-kiss.
Does anyone know that he blushes grey? Well. She does, obviouslyâ
â...um. You know I wasnât saying those things because Iââ
...oops.
âOh god. Oh my god. Iââ
He sighs again.
âItâs okay, sweeâCindy. Itâs not your fault.â
â...huh?â
GoggâPeterâlets go of her hand, and rubs the back of his neck, and looks away from her. âLook, I canât say I understand it, but I know you and I have got that whole same-Spider thing going on, right? Like you do with the other Peters. And maybe Gwen. Same spider, stronger...bug-sprays, I think.â
â...pheromones.â
âYeah. Yeah. That. Look, I feel it too. Not quite normal attraction, I know what thatâs like, and not quite normal love. And itâs been making me act weird and all, and Iâm truly sorry. Iâve been meaning to complain to my spider about it, itâs not right to take advantage of a young woman in that way, even if it is some kind of whacked-up biologyââ
Goddamnit.
âPeter,â says Cindy, keeping her voice as level as she can. âI know what the pheromones are like. I know what the effect is, better than any damn spider I know. I know how to handle those effects. And because you got bitten by a demon spider instead of a radioactive one youâre just about the only Spider-Peter in the multiverse that it doesnât happen for.â
â...um.â
Now would be the worst time to have a panic attack and run.
Which she does.
(Way to go, Cin.)
212. Sow
âHey, Aunt May?â Peter asks one day. âIf you could be any other animal, what would you be?â
May Porker considers this.
âIâd be a fish.â
â...wow, I didnât see that coming.â
âHonestly, though. A manta ray. Big and friendly, for carrying people. And extra long fins for cuddling little sea spiders.â
âAunt Maaaaaay,â whines Peter, as she tackles him. âYouâre ruining my street cred!â
âWeâre inside, dear.â
But thatâs the way it is with this woman. She doesnât even mind that he was a spider. Helps him address various holiday cards each year to his sixty-seven brothers and sisters, even though she needs a magnifying glass and a sextant to see the print.
Peter Porker, from the tender age of seven months onwards, would gladly die and/or eat anyone for his aunt.
213. Duplicate
Otto knows he canât leave it at something as simple as the takeover. He is Spider-Man now, which means it should be his choice what Spider-Man does, but...he also chose to be Spider-Man. And that means upholding what Spider-Man stands for. What Peter Parker stood for.
âKeep them safe. Thatâs all I ever...â
It also means that, when a counterpart of hisâa female Octavius, with plastic arms, quite a treatâcomes to town, heâs curious about what the possibility of multiple Doc Ocks working together could achieve. Better yetâmultiple Spiders. Keeping reality safe, taking down their enemies much more efficiently...sharing ideas. Finding families.
(He is Spider-Man. Heâs not quite certain, despite every test that he ran on the Psychic Transference System, that heâs not slowly becoming Peter Parker again. When he feels genuine love for Mary-Jen, or feels quips come out of nowhere that he manages to stamp down, or even just has a brilliant idea out of the blue that he knows he couldnât have had. Or that he wasnât always Peter Parker, believing himself to be Otto Octavius in spite of the evidence. It terrifies himâand yet the science involved is spellbinding.)
214. Bestie
Sheâs got a lid on it, sheâs got a lid on itâ
âSo!â says Gwen, brightly. âInvisible boyfriend, huh? That must be handy. He doesnât actually live in Canada, right?â
Silkworm laughs. Gwen tries to stand upwind, just in case. Damn pheromones.
âNope. Definitely here, in SanFran with me. And heâs kind of stuck in an in-between state, not quite alive or dead. Weâre working on that.â
weâreworkingonthat? isthatwhatweârecallingitnow?
Spectro...isnât bad-looking either, per se.
Silkworm laughs.
âWell, what do you want to call it?â
gettingtotacklemylong-lostgirlfriendeverysooften. forscience. stillmadatyouaboutthewhole âlonglostâ bitbytheway.
âNo youâre not.â
...yeahnoiâmnot. anywayigotmyrevenge.
âMaybe I just happen to like the name âSilkwormâ for other reasons.â
Spectro grins.
uhhuh.
âWow, youâre actually as chatty as Peter,â Gwen blurts out.
âAs in Peter B.?â
â...as in the ghost of my best friend,â she mumbles. âThere. Knew I was crazy.â
Silkworm and Spectro exchange glances.
hmm. isheashandsomeasmethough? askingforafriend.
âBehave.â
donâtialways? But then Spectro gets serious. listen. somehowidoubtyouâdbelikelytoimaginesomethinglikethat. prettyvividguy, huh?
Gwen sighs. âInvisible. Actually invisible. But I hear things, sometimes. I think heâd actually dead, though, not just halfway gone like you.â
(It doesnât matter how many times he forgives her or Peter B. forgives her, she wonât assume sheâs in the clear yet. Not yet.)
soundstomelikeunfinishedbusiness.
Gwen smiles. âYeah...he was always bad about leaving loose ends.â
âNot that unusual, with Parkers,â says Cindy, fondly. âWell, Spider-Woman, care for a tour around the greatest city in the States?â
âAnd you call yourself a New Yorker? I am shocked, maâam, shocked.â
And off they swing.
(And float.)
215. Hire
The photos arenât high-quality, not yet, but the technique is decent. And sixteen-year-old Peter B. Parker seems pretty darn down on his luck, after what happened with his uncle.
Nobody could accuse J. Jonah Jameson of being a softie.
(On occasion, his son simply states the facts. Which...fine, thereâs a point there.)
Spider-Man wears a mask, like any criminal. (Like that criminal.) Parker wears glasses to see and still takes above-average shots. Spider-Man makes himself the centre of attention, Parker wants to be anything but.
Jonah will take Parkerâs laboured but careful snark over Spider-Menaceâs quipping any day.
216. Established
May lost her Peter. He lost his May. They sort of fill a space in for one another. But she loves each and every one of her nephews (and niece) regardless, even if they have Aunt Mays of their own.
Itâs not a conscious choice. It doesnât need to be.
And in any caseâwho said Miles and Gwen and Mary Jane werenât family too? You donât need to be blood to be a Parker.
(Although, with Mary Jane, as it turns out...)
...she was a bit uncertain how to react to her younger self with four mechanical arms, though. Maybe sitting down and getting her to question her life choices would be a good idea.
#spiderman into the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#spider man#peter benjamin parker#spiderman noir#peni parker#sp//dr#peter parker#miles morales#spider man uk#mayday parker#peter b parker#mary jane watson#carnage#uncle ben#aunt may#cindy moon#Peter Parker x Cindy Moon#(everyone has that one crazy ship)#peter porker#otto octavius#superior spider man#hector cervantez#Hector Cervantez x Cindy Moon#gwen stacy#May Reilly#fanfic#one shot collection#fairies
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Fred Weasley â Helplessly Part 2
Summary: After the Battle Of Hogwarts, Fred was rushed to the muggle hospital for better treatment of his injuries. While on a coma, his soul stayed with you for a couple of months. He watches as you went through the stages. And he watches when you start to write a song, just for him.
Words: 2,253 words
Warnings â : Just... Pure Sadness
Disclaimer: I am still in pain.
TAGLIST FOR HELPLESSLY: HERE
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 (COMING SOON!)
---------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER 2: Weakness & Comfort
       Your eyes felt like burning.
       âComa?â You repeated with a whisper, everyone was looking at you in concern, knowing how badly the new information could be to your health. âY/NâŠâ Hermione called softly; her hand reached yours with a gentle grip.
       âI-I need to see him, please. I need to see Fred.â You said, hastily ripping off the wires on your arms, slightly panicking the others. âY/N, dear, why donât you rest first?â Molly hold both of your shoulders, somehow making herself as a barrier between you and the ground. She was giving you a gentle, slightly alerted smile. You shook your head fast, âI need to see him. I-I need to see if heâs okay. Fred⊠Fredâs okay, right?â
       George came and helped Molly on keeping you on the hospital bed, âYes, Y/N, heâs okay. You, on the other hand, need more rest.â
       You were anxious, you canât rest. Not until you see Fred.
       âNo! Let go of me!â You shrugged off Georgeâs hands from you and jumped off the bed, only resulting your legs to fail you after remaining static for so long. So when you fell to the ground with a thud, Ron and Harry went running to you, trying to help you up.
       âY/N, I think itâs best if you could just-â âRon, please, I need to see Fred.â You cut off Ronâs words, gripping his arms tightly as you looked at him in the eyes. Your eyes were watery, your throat was burning. The thought of not seeing Fred made you so scared. The image of Fred laying down the grounds of the Great Hall kept resurfacing in your mind like a broken disc player. You were scared, you were panicking, you were stressing out, all at the same time.
       As you kept trying to move forward to the door, Harry and Ron kept holding you back; holding your arms each, so you started screaming, âNo! Let me go! I need to see him! I need to see Fred! Let go of me!!!â  You tried again, and they still held you back. You throat was burning, and the emotions began choking you up. Tears were running down your face as you tried to break free from Harry and Ron desperately, screaming in agony.
       Bill and Fleur hurriedly left the room to call a doctor to stop you hyperventilating, while Molly was already sobbing under the embrace of Hermione. George was trying to keep his tears all to himself, he hated to see you so distraught like this, it broke his heart so much the emotions were choking him up.
       âFred!!!â You wailed out, your voice hoarse from shouting and screaming.
       The doctors finally arrived, and they had you pinned down to the floor when they injected you with a tranquilizer. Your crying had quieted down, but the weak whimpering you made; âPlease, I need to see Freddie⊠He almost died in my arms, pleaseâŠâ, before you passed out was enough to make the whole room heartbroken.
       When you woke up again, it was night-time. The view outside the window was dark, the only light was the small fluorescent light right on top of your head, just enough to dimly light up the room. You noticed the room wasnât as crowded as before; there was only George, Molly and Hermione left in the room. George was sleeping in an uncomfortable position on the hospital couch, Hermione was dozing off sitting on one of the chairs, and Molly was beside you, with her upper body leaning onto the bed, seemingly sleeping as well.
       âMollyâŠ?â You whispered with a hoarse voice; your voice was small, similar to a young child asking her parents if they were mad at her. Instantly Molly woke up, the exhaustion in her face was clear, yet she was smiling widely at you, âOh, dear, you finally woke up! Are you hungry, perhaps?â
       You shook your head, your eyes sad. You remembered how you acted a few hours ago, and you werenât proud of it. Your guilt was terribly heavy, your eyes turned glassy the moment they stared into Mollyâs kind, loving ones. âIâm sorry.â Was all you could say, watching her smile softened at your words. She took a hold of your hand; her calloused warm hand brought you comfort almost immediately, âYou were scared. And I donât blame you, dear. War certainly brings the worst out of us, especially when weâre desperate.â
       Molly had told you that you needed to stay in the hospital for a while, at least until your legs are strong enough to hold your weight again. The healers had said that you were overwhelmed with stress, and plus the injuries from the war, theyâd actually be surprised if you didnât faint.
       A week passed by like a total blur.
       While Molly and George took turns to look after between you and Fred during the day, Hermione had stayed with you the whole time, the hospital even gave her an extra mattress so she would be comfortable. She would be awake at night until the sun rises, to look after you. Because-
       âY/N, Iâm here. Youâre okay, sweetheart, youâre okay.â Hermione hugged you when you suddenly woke up screaming. You were having cold sweats everywhere, and your eyes were flooding with tears. You gripped onto her tightly, sobbing uncontrollably, âI dreamt it again, Mione⊠I-I canât. Every time I close my eyes, I see him on the ground-â You couldnât finish your words.
       She rubbed your back lovingly, giving no damn of her wet shirt, âHeâs okay, Y/N. Fredâs alright.â She muttered softly, caressing your head to calm you down. After several minutes of silent crying, you pulled away, sniffing. The nightmare was reoccurring, almost every night. You were exhausted to say the least, emotionally and physically. The nightmare drained you so much youâre afraid youâre becoming a shell of who you were.
       âCan we go see him, Mione?â You asked her, you couldnât stop the yearning in your heart. You need to see him. Hermione sighed, this wasnât the first time you asked her this, âY/N, itâs 2 in the morning.â
       You only nodded. You knew itâs not going to work, but you had to try anyway.
       Hermione watched you quietly with silent pity. Out of all, you were the most traumatized from the war. Sure, some of other people had nightmares too from the war, but not even Harry got it bad like you. She was grateful Ron was with her the whole entire time during the battle, she didnât even want to think what would happen if she was in your shoes and the one laying on the ground was Ron. She knew how much you loved Fred, and she had seen how much the tall lad adored you.
       Sheâs 100% sure, if soulmates are a true thing, you and Fred would be the first soulmates she thought of. So she did something; even Hermione herself was calling herself crazy for it.
       âCan you walk?â
       Hermione helped you walk to Fredâs ward by holding your arm, acting as your walking support. Unlike before, your legs got more strength and you could stand, but you were still having difficulties to walk. The hospital hallway was dimly lit and barely no one was there, except for one or two sleeping nurses at the counters. Despite that, you feel no fear inside, your main goal was to see Fred.
       One whole week, you were yearning for this.
       And there he was, on the hospital bed, with his eyes closed, and an oxygen mask on his face. He looked pale, yet he looked peaceful. Almost every part of his body was wrapped with bandages, especially his head, blocking your view from his red hair that you ridiculously missed. You sat on the seat beside his bed, watching his chest rise up and down as if heâs just sleeping, not trapped with wires and machines. Your shaky hand took a hold on his unmoving one, and you took a trembling breath at how cold it was.
       The beeping machine was the only sound in the cold room.
       âHello, Freddie.â You whispered, watching him quietly. The anxiousness that you were feeling for a whole week vanished into thin air, your heart was beating healthily again at the sight of this boy of yours. Your thumb caressed Fredâs skin, a habit youâve been doing for years because you knew how much Fred loved it when you do it. For once since the Battle of Hogwarts, you smiled sincerely, even with tears in your eyes, âI missed you, darling. I missed you so muchâŠâ
       Your emotions were mixing with each other. You were happy that you get to see Fred again, breathing and alive, but you canât help to feel broken that heâs not really alive. You caressed his face lovingly, in your mind, Fred was looking at you, giving you that cheeky smile youâve seen a million times. But then your eyes woke up from your imagination, Fred was closing his eyes, pale and cold.
       Your heart clenched tighter.
       Hermione waited outside, giving you some time with Fred. She couldnât bear to see you cry again because of him; her heart couldnât take it. So she stood outside, letting out a shaky breath as she heard the quiet sobs of yours. Her eyes began to water, you were her best friend, you were there for her for almost every event of her life.
Watching her strong best friend become weak and fragile was enough to send Hermione to tears.
       After giving Fred a kiss on his knuckles, you left with Hermione with a calm smile. You hugged her when you realized she was crying outside; it was your turn to comfort her. âHave I told you, I love you so much, Hermione?â
       Hermione slightly laughed at that, with tears and all, âYeah, you have, dummy.â
       The next day was better for you, you werenât as terrible as the past days, but you werenât great either. Nevertheless, you feel better. Itâs not like youâre saying goodbye to Fred, itâs more to comforting yourself that he was indeed alive and will wake up soon.
       You just didnât know how long it would take.
       The Weasleys had invited you to stay at the Burrow for a while so they could take care of you once youâve been discharged. Not wanting them to see anymore of the ugly sides of yours, you declined softly, giving reasons like your shared apartment with Fred will get dusty if was unkempt for long. As worried as George was for you, he reluctantly agreed, with a condition he gets to visit you every week to check on you.
       Hermione even offered to stay at your apartment for a while, to keep you company. You once again declined, Hermione never had time for herself ever since the Battle had ended, you didnât want to burden her any further. You were touched however, seeing so many people who werenât even your blood caring about you immensely as if youâre one of their own. You believed at some point, you are, and you were grateful.
       When you returned home a few days later, accompanied by Harry, Ron and Hermione; they insisted, you were glad they did. Seeing the shared space of you and your lover, with him being in the hospital unconscious, you broke down as soon as you step foot into the place.
        Your three friends tried their best to be there for you, telling you jokes and making you laugh, trying to let you forget for a moment, so you could relax. After dinner, they reluctantly left, grimacing at the idea of leaving you all alone without anyone else in the house. But you convinced them you would be fine, and that you were too tired to think about other things. They gave you a goodbye hug, and Ron kissed the temple of your head comfortingly.
       But as soon as they left, the smile on your face drained. You leaned your back against the bedroom door, slowly sliding down to the cold tiled floor.  The dimly lit area seemed to darken, the darkness started to surround you. As you hugged your legs, tears once again without fail came without warning. Being left alone after surrounded by people you loved was the worst feeling ever, and despite that, you didnât want them to see this ugly side of you. Itâs enough that Hermione saw it, even with her, your best friend, you feel awful showing her your moments of weakness.
       So you sat there, sobbing alone, with your heart aching for one man.
       You remembered that morning where you visited him before going back home, you volunteered to wipe his body, the feeling of wanting to take care of your loving boyfriend was so strong. And so you did, with heavy tears in your eyes at the battle scars he had when you removed the bandages to change them to new ones. Despite the scars and cuts and burns and bruises, Fred still looked beautiful in your eyes. You kissed him goodbye on the forehead, not forgetting to squeeze his cold hand.
       Somehow, the memory comforted you like no other.
       Unbeknownst to you, a certain soul had followed you home the moment you visited him that night. Fred Weasley, now a lost soul, felt his heart physically snapping into pieces as he watched you quietly.
       âOh, darling. What have you done to yourself?â
---------------------------------------------------
PART 3: READ
TAGLIST:
@paigeyisme @britishspidey @hargreevesgrace @jasminweasley @neutralgoodval @kaidenceweasley
#george weasley x reader#george weasley#george fabian weasley#fred and george#georgeweasley#fred weasley x reader#fredweasley#fred gideon weasley#fred weasley#weasley twins#weasley#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fanfic#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley imagine#hogwarts#post battle of hogwarts#harry potter#harry potter angst#harry potter x reader#harry potter imagines#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfiction#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x y/n#george weasley imagine#george weasley x you#harry potter sad#fred weasley sad#fred weasley series
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Lol
The joke's on you. I have a ton of these and I'm about to make it everyone's problem.
Put "đ" into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.
(I'm gonna cheat a little. The ones with * are ones that I have started writing, but are incomplete/have been WIPs for a long time/nowhere close to being done. I feel like that counts just because of the amount of daydreaming/not writing that goes into them lol)
(Also, if there is any that someone is particularly interested in reading once it's finished, just leave a reply and I'll reach out with a link once it's published!)
This is going to be a long post, so I'll put the answer under a read more!
đ *
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ships: ShigaDabi (primary), TodoDeku (background, maybe)
An AU where Tenko Shimura was found by Inko Midoriya instead of AFO and raised as Izuku's brother. He winds up becoming Hawks's secretary, meets All Might and learns about his grandmother, and gets to proudly watch his brother follow his dreams. Things start to change when he meets a strange man outside of a cafe and falls for him. How was he supposed to know that Dabi was a villain!? From there, Tenko has to do a lot of self reflection and decide what he wants to do after learning about his boyfriend's identity, especially when he found out that his boss had known all along. Does he chase after Dabi? Join him? Turn him in? I'm not 100% sure how I want to end this, but I am tempted for it to lead to the "birth" of Tomura. Any suggestions would be welcome!
đ*
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ships: N/A, maybe background Duo Holders?
Essentially an AFO origin story focusing on his relationship with Yoichi over the course of his descent. I take a few snapshots of the brothers together, starting as teens and going through to his death, and showing how their regard for each other changed. It finally ends with AFO speaking to Yoichi's grave years later. I'm a fan of DFO, so I'm going to be using the name Hisashi for him, but if/when his canon name comes out, I'll be changing it to match!
đ
Fandom: Death Note
Ships: LawLight (primary), MattMello (secondary)
An AU where Roger Ruvie dies early on in the investigation and, with the entire world under suspicion, L can't afford to replace him. Instead, he sends the majority of the kids off to other houses that Watari had built, save for his top three successors. Near, Mello, and Matt all move into the Task Force HQ and, despite L's "best efforts" to prevent it (read: he's totally just pretending to stop them to please the others), they continually find themselves thrown in the middle of the investigation. I'm also not 100% certain how I want this to end, but I do know that it's going to be endgame L/Light and Matt/Mello.
đ*
Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs
Ships: RanPoe (past), ODazai (past, platonic or romantic), SteinCraft (past, background)
A sequel to Unstoppable Force. I've had a few people express interest in the culprit, so I've decided to write up an optional sequal that explains it. I debated not doing it, but I know that a lot of people enjoy closure, so I thought it would be fun! I invented a new villain and a new ability and I found an excuse to drag some Guild members into it as well. Essentially, Ranpo reopens the case after the funeral and uses the strange behavior of Steinbeck to corner and catch the elusive ability user. I'm personally proud of the ability I created, so I'm going to keep it a secret for now.
đ*
Fandom: Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun
Ships: TeruKane (primary)
This one is actually based on a post that has since been deleted proposing the idea of a soulmate AU where the name of your soulmate is written on the inside of your book in the Four O'clock Library. I shook it up a bit and added the idea that if you read your soulmate's name, people will begin to forget they exist and you have to confess your love to them within a week or they will disappear from existence entirely. Akane didn't think it would be a problem to go and confirm his soulmate-- it's obviously Aoi-- only to discover a very different name written in his book. Knowing his time limit, he struggles to find a loophole in the curse that would help him avoid confessing a love he doesn't feel. In the meantime, people are slowly starting to forget who Teru Minamoto is, with Akane being the only one to remember, forcing them to spend even more time together. This one is going to have a happy ending, but it's going to be a really close call!
đ
Fandom: Robihachi
Ships: Robby/Hatchi (primary)
This is a sequel to Lovely that I've been playing around with. Someone expressed that they wanted to see how Robby's father would react to their situation and that got me thinking about it. In a misguided gesture of good faith, Hatchi's parents invite Robby's family up to the moon to help celebrate either his birthday or their first anniversary. Much to Robby's surprise, they agree to come, leaving him with an awkward mess of judgement to deal with until they leave. I still haven't decided how this will end, but I know it's going to be on either a positive or bittersweet note.
đ
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ships: EraserMist (primary; may be romantic or platonic), Tomura/Touya (secondary)
Sequel to Purpose. Kurogiri and Tomura move in with that kind hero, Aizawa, after what happened in the alleyway. It takes a lot of getting used to, but it is leagues better than living out of a hotel. Kurogiri juggles working to obtain his hero license with raising Tomura (made easier with the new help) and investigates just why that hero seemed so familiar... Later on, when Tomura enters UA, he juggles making friends for the first time, proving his heroism despite his quirk, and a concerning new crush on the hot upperclassman.
đ
Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity
Ships: MatchaBlossom (primary), Renga (secondary), ShadOka (maybe)
This one is going to go through a week of after-hours visits at Sia la Luce. Each day, someone drops in while Joe is closing up, needing one thing or another. From relationship advice to a pleasant escape to pleas for forgiveness, Joe finds himself to be the center of all of their attention. It's just a collection of seven mini-stories that are all collected throughout the span of one week in-universe. Everyone is going to give Joe a visit for different reasons and I'm excited to see how it turns out!
đ*
Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs
Ships: Shin Soukoku (primary), Soukoku (secondary), more potentially TBA
A fantasy AU in which Fukuzawa and Mori are the kings of two rival kingdoms, Ada and the Port Kingdom (I'll probably change the names lol). Fukuzawa has no genetic heirs, but he had taken in a number of wards, one of which will be chosen to succeed him. Mori has two children, and the prince was born with a terrible curse that leaves his reputation soaked in blood. Atsushi, one of Fukuzawa's wards, is also cursed and feels that Prince Ryuunosuke is just like him; that he can be saved with some kindness and compassion. Despite being warned not to, he sneaks out and attends a ball intended to find the prince a suitor. While there, he unknowingly defends the prince from a number of attackers, which, while unnecessary, piques Ryuunosuke's interest. The two run away together, but wind up being sidetracked by an advancing enemy and wind up lost. Chuuya, a knight from the PK, is sent by Mori to go and find his son. Dazai, Atsushi's mentor and ward of Fukuzawa, is sent to go and locate the weretiger after he does not come to breakfast in the morning. Chuuya and Dazai run into each other while searching for their respective people, which leads to them teaming up to find them while Atsushi and Ryuunosuke are trying their hardest not to be found.
#shigadabi#shin soukoku#terukane#soukoku#ranpoe#matchablossom#renga#robihachi#erasermist#lawlight#mattmello#mellomatt#my hero academia#bungo stray dogs#sk8 the infinity#toilet bound hanako kun#all for one#kurogiri#tenko shimura#touya todoroki#dabi#tomura shigaraki#shouta aizawa
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Tagged by @abedsmessedupmeta and @vesperass-anuna
How many works do you have on AO3? 40
Whatâs your total AO3 word count? 200,109
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
I Get The Feelinâ That You Wanna Fall
I Want You to Stay, You Have to Go
Except Your Touch
Couldnât See You Coming
The Moments In Between
Wow, I didnât realize my three highest were all Chenford. Nice!
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I do my absolute best to reply to every comment left on my stories. Interaction with authors was one of the things that got me more actively involved with fandom and led to me writing my own fic, so I try to pay that back. Â
Whatâs the fic youâve written with the angstiest ending?
Itâs a toss up. The Fuse Is Lit, So Stand Back and Watch It Burn is one of the very few (might even be the only?) fics Iâve written that has a confirmed, definite angsty ending, because itâs basically a canon scene where I added in Wardâs inner thoughts. And well...that didnât end well for anyone. But Donât Go is probably the angstiest, despite it being an intentionally and very ambigious ending. I think the ambiguity adds to the angst and I got a much bigger reaction from readers for it. Â
Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the strangest one youâve written?
Not really. I donât have a lot of personal attraction to crossovers (theyâre really, really hard to do well and serve all of the characters properly). I applaud people who can do them well, Iâm just not intrigued enough to try. Iâve joked around with little headcanons and daydream ideas here and there that I discuss with friends, but nothing that I have sat down to actually write and publish.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Surprisingly no. I actually havenât really gotten any hate, either on fic or in anon asks. Maybe I joined the fandoms too late or maybe Iâm too boring to pick on. Either way, works for me!
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Siiiiiigh. This is a weird one for me. No, I do not write smut. I do however cheer on my co-writers to write the smut for our stories. And I have definitely helped choreograph and betaâd smut (making sure everyone get their clothes off is harder than you think). But writing smut myself is one of those lines that I drew for myself, whether it makes sense to anyone else or not.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I am aware of. But itâs one of the things Iâve always been concerned about when people have asked to translate my fics (which is also incredibly flattering!). Â
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Hahahahahahahahha. Yes. Iâve done headcanon âverses with @vesperass-anuna and @agentramsey where we exchanged prompts and wrote stories for each other. In those, the individual stories were each written by us, but all together, the whole collection was definitely co-written. And then thereâs @evieoh with whom I co-write a TON of stories. Seriously, all of my best stories are the one we co-wrote. And we really and truly co-write. There are scenes that one or the other of us wrote, but there are parts where we literally alternated sentences or even words. Itâs a very enmeshed process. Bless Google Docs!
Whatâs your all-time favorite ship?
Skyeward. Chenford is working hard to climb up there, but at the end of the day, Skyeward has my heart, my ass, and my soul. Just the other day I was listening to random songs and having major feelings about them with Skyeward. Â
Whatâs a WIP that you want to finish but donât think you ever will?
Alias AU. Itâs just too big for our brains to handle. We have SO MUCH of it mapped out, but thereâs a lot of mythology that needs to be detailed, and weâre just not gonna get there. So we scaled it down to Blalias AU, as we nicknamed it. Hopefully weâll work our way through that.
What are your writing strengths?
Banter. For sure. I love writing dialogue. Â
What are your writing weaknesses?
Action. Donât think I can do it at all. But then again a lot of my fics are in settings that donât require a lot. Also, slow burn is actually hard to write! I just want them happy and comfortable in a relationship.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I donât really do it, mostly because I donât have a good reason to in the stories that I write. As a reader, I like a little bit, like a sentence or two, where you can guess the meaning from context. And I really love little terms of endearment (bless Darklina fic for all the Russian endearments) in other languages. But if there are big blocks of dialogue, I just skip over them. If thereâs a translation, then it takes me out of the story, and if there isnât, Iâm not going to go look it up, so.... yeah. As a writer, if I had a reason to use another language, 1) I would make sure I got the translation from an actual human that speaks it (i.e. not Google Translate) and 2) it would be just a line or two that wouldnât need a separate translation to understand. Â
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Very very very first, was Hanson. Yup, that Hanson. I even turned in a self insert fanfic as a Creative Writing assignment in high school. I still canât decide if my teacher knew what it was and died laughing at me or had no clue because he was an old grizzled English teacher who would rather listen to jazz than Mmmbop. But like, as intentionally writing fic, it was actually Skyeward.
Whatâs your favorite fic youâve written?
Hmmm.....thatâs really really hard. I loooove Couldnât See You Coming (Skyeward Soulmate AU I wrote for Evieâs birthday a few years ago). I think Finders Keepers is my best single fic. And From My Hands, I Could Give You (Restaurant AU) might be the one Iâm the very most attached to. I havenât updated it in 2+ years, but I still think about it and daydream plan for it on a near-daily basis. Â
Tagging: @universallongings, @firstdegreefangirl, @inthemovingcastle
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Hi!! Congratulations on 100!!!! Would you do me a favor and link your comfort/favorite fics?
Oh I would love to! Most/all of these have been recommended before but they are my favs. This isnât complete by a long shot but itâs a fairly decent list. These are not in order from best to worst, I have them alphabetically organized because I donât think I could choose.
Avatar the Last Airbender
lessons in tea making by aloneintherain - the idea of Zuko having to run away from the Gaang is just...I wish I had found this fic sooner.Â
Salvage by MuffinLance - Zuko getting a father figure through Hakoda is not something I knew I needed until I read this fic. I would die if this fic became abandoned.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Every Letter That You Write Me by othellia - Hands down best Buffy fic I have ever read. Iâve only made it through this one twice but thatâs because itâs not finished yet. If I could only recommend one Buffy fic itâd be this one.
Danny Phantom
Because of Him by dizappearingirl - I will die for another chapter. I have no idea why I love this one so much but I do.
Danny Phantom Reversal by The Smiling Crow - legit the best DP fanfic in which he turns into a half ghost after having fully died. No one could do a better story with this concept, I swear by it.
Disinterred by DarkNymfa - I was fairly late to reading this one but it is so good.
Fathoms Below by VanillaSpiders - I cannot tell you how much I enjoy this one. Maybe Iâm just a sucker for mermaids but I have read this trilogy at least five times and would read it again in a heartbeat.
when the kingdom comes calling by blueh - this one makes me giggle.
DC
The One About Mr Tricycle and Mr-I-Take-a-Bike-to-Bed by FrankandJoe3 - I crack up every time. This fic never gets old. Whenever I need a laugh I come back to this one.
The Ward by FrankandJoe3 - Yâall just need to read this one itâs so well written and has a unique storyline.
Through a Glass, Darkly by Never_Says_Die - Best Static Shock fic, period. I really like this story in ways I canât explain.
Doctor Who
Connect-the-Dots by fingersfallingupwards - Itâs a soulmate fic with Rose and the Doctor and I would die for another fic just like it.
Mad, Beautiful, Fantastic by JulietRose - Iâm a sucker for Rose and the Doctor, and the title says it all.
Merlin
Yâknow Iâm not gonna even list all of these, just go check out CaffeinatedFlumadiddle
Everaftering So Happy by Palebluedot - this one makes me laugh.
Peace for Our Time by AngryPurpleFire - really funny Merlin fic, Iâve read it twice and would read it again.
Miraculous Ladybug
Go read SailorChibi because I canât list all the ones I like from them.
Snuggle Bug by imthepunchlord - short, funny, and cute.Â
You Call This Acting? by chellethewriter - I have my reasons.
Crossovers
Broken Hearts (DP x TT) by DizzlyPuzzled - If you asked me in 2015, before I got into much fanfiction besides Danny Phantom, what my favorite fanfiction was, this would be it. I loved it in a way that, although it did put Danny through the ringer, it did allow him to heal and make steps toward his old self. Hurt/comfort for the win.
Devils Without And Devils Within (DP x DC x Marvel) by Ellyven- Literally would die for the last few chapters of this. It reels you in and keeps you wanting more and then...stops.Â
Earthbound Spirit (DP x TT) by TheTragicHero - I think this is one of the few, or only, that Starfire is Dannyâs friend first. I have read this again and again and could read it a few times more. I read it after Broken Hearts and this holds a close second in nostalgic fics.
Mirrored (DP x American Dragon) by Lynse - Best, hands down, Danny Phantom and American Dragon crossover. Read it a long time ago and rediscovered it.
Mistaken Relations (DP x Rise of the Guardians) by DAsObiQuiet - if youâre looking for a laugh - this one is it.
Oh Captain, My Captain (Captain America x Torchwood) by Vinelady - I never thought a Marvel and Doctor Who (kinda) crossover could make me laugh and smile so much. Iâve read this maybe 3 times and it hasnât gotten old yet.
Recognized (Danny Phantom x Young Justice) by AgentIanLegend- One of the more recent DC/Danny Phantom crossovers I cannot get enough of.
#daily fic rec#fic rec#danny phantom#miraculous ladybug#dc#marvel#doctor who#merlin#fanfiction#AO3#ask#answer#list#fav fics
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fateful coincidence [2] | l.jh
A/N:Â here I am yet again wondering if people still read the things I write... I started this series a year ago (I think) and finally have gotten around to updating it...
Word Count:Â 12,552
Genre:Â chaebol/heir!au, supernatural elements/deal with the devil, slice of life, romance (slow burn/soulmates)
Warnings:Â reader (fem) x lee jooheon (monsta x) pairing, mature/suggestive themes, language
Summary:Â Lee Jooheon is a well-known heir to a global hotel conglomerate, and is next in line to take over the family business. Youâre a journalist, aspiring for more, but barely managing to pay your own bills at the end of the month. The two of you are from entirely different worlds, yet fate somehow tangles your threads, and Jooheon seems to know an intriguing amount more about you than he lets on.
Youâre forgetting things.
 Like pockets of memory, it starts off small. Miniscule things throughout the day that slowly progress into more important issues. There are holes, you reach in and grasp for something that you know should be there, but nothing comes out. Itâs an irritating feelingâto know that something is misplaced, forgotten, but to be unable to identify what it is. It feels as if itâs only gotten worse since the night of the hotel opening, but a part of you is suddenly aware that itâs been going on for much longer than that.
 Itâs only after the event, waking up the next day with the taste of alcohol lingering, that you wonder how serious your memory displacement might beâbecause you realize, waking up, that itâs not even the alcohol thatâs making you forget. Yet despite that, you still push everything down. You lock it and the dashing Lee Jooheon away in the depths of your mind, forcefully making yourself forget this one thing. You didnât have the time to keep constantly turning his words over in your head, attempting to sort through the shrouded mystery that they presented. Not just that, but he was from a completely separate worldâeven if you allowed yourself time to do just that, he was still untouchable.
 Plus, you didnât want to relive every single detail as you described the event to Kihyun. There were some important factors that could be conveniently left outâhe had refused to talk to you for almost three days, annoyed youâd hung up on him and given him the cold shoulder that day. Despite having a job to do. But you were just as irritated in his behavior and lack of thoughtfulness the day of the event when youâd called out of work. He hadnât bothered to check on you at all, and you had needed to get to your job. It was as simple as that, but heâd taken it out of proportion and was being childish.
 His childish behavior had dropped after the three daysâafter he seemed satisfied heâd gotten whatever point he was attempting to make (there was none) across, and after you got some decent recognition from Minhyuk due to the article youâd written. You tried not to consider the fact that it could have been some of Jooheonâs doing that the piece was performing so well, another thought you pushed out of your mind and locked away.
 After the hype of everything between the event and article died down, your daily routine fell back into place. Kihyun was back to his normal blunt best friend act, Minhyuk was as bossy as ever and overworked you, and your daily headaches returned.
 The daily headaches. You wonder if it has anything to do with your missing pockets of memory.
 âAre you forgetting anything?â Kihyunâs voice suddenly breaks through the slight throbbing just beyond your skull, silencing the thoughts that were just about to make everything worse.
 You glance up from your suitcase to see him entering your room, eyes scanning over the piece of paper youâd typed up. A gray cloud of fluff, fondly known to be your cat Silas, expertly weaves his way through Kihyunâs feet. Whenever he did that to you, youâd trip and fallâyet for some reason, he and Kihyun had it down to an art. No matter how much Kihyun multitasked, he was always used to the feline being just underfoot.
 Silas breaks apart from Kihyun and trots across your bedroom to you. âHey, bub.â Smiling, you reach out and give the cat a few chin scratches. Looking up to Kihyun, you add, âI donât think so. Youâve taken care of him before though, so it shouldnât be too difficult.â
 Kihyun frowns. âNot for this extended length of time, though. Does he get separation anxiety?â
 âWith how much I work and am away from home, anyway? Doubtful. But who knows, he may miss my presence. Just sleep over here. I have food thatâll go bad and you still have a roommate.â
 âTrue. Hyungwon just sleeps, anyway. Itâs not like heâll really notice Iâm gone.â Kihyun lowers the paper of instructions for caring for the flat and Silas while youâre gone on your trip, eyeing you. âAre you going to get that checked out, by the way?â
 You practically scramble to lower your hands from your neck, realizing Kihyun had spotted you attempting to massage away some of the pain throbbing at the base of your nape. He was always so watchful, it was almost annoying. You understood the headaches were something to be concerned over, but he didnât have to nitpick so much.
 âItâs not really a work trip, nor a leisure trip. Iâll see if I have time.â
 âStill, youâll be visiting home while youâre there. You may as well fit in a doctorâs appointment,â Kihyun pointed out, giving the paper in his hand a small wave. âPlus, youâre there a little over a week. Family matters to take care of or not, youâll have plenty of time. Make sure to get some rest, too. Maybe you just need some decent sleep.â
 You sigh. âYes, mother, Iâll try to.â
 The sound of Kihyunâs scoff immediately follows, along with his footsteps. Silas, who had been sprawled out on the floor this entire time, scurries away at the sudden weight reverberating across the floor that startles him out of his catnap.
 âAnyway, did you forget anything?â Kihyun asks once more, eyeing your open suitcase in front of you.
 You glance back at your suitcase, a little haphazard with the contents but sorted and all together nonethelessâyou just had to figure out how to make everything fit between your checked and carry on baggageâand shake your head. âNo, I think Iâm good. If I do forget anything, at least Iâm going home. Thereâs usually spare stuff available, or I can just buy it if itâs something small.â
 Kihyun frowns. âYou were literally just complaining a few weeks ago about having to spend money on a dress, and now youâre saying you can just buy what you need.â
 âWell, I figure if I forget anything, itâll be something cheap like shampoo,â you cut him a look, rolling your eyes. Not a gown, you want to say. âAnyway, letâs get some sleep. Flight leaves at two in the morning, and Iâm sure thatâs going to be a lovely time waking up for the both of us.â
 If possible, Kihyunâs frown deepens. As quickly as you possibly can without making any mistakes, you finish organizing your belongings between the luggage and close everything up, creating a pile to easily collect upon your departure. Kihyun bids a soft goodnight and makes his way back to the makeshift bed heâd created in your living room. You were already dreading the sixteen hour time difference and having to reset your internal clock for your visit to the States. At least all Kihyun had to do was wake up at an almost-unholy hour of the night to drop you off at the airport, then return to home and bed. You hoped sleep would come easily to you on the planeâbecause as the lights in your apartment are shut off and you close your eyes, the pounding of your headache seems to increase and rear its ugly head in full forceâmaking sleep almost impossible for the five or six hours ahead of you.
â
Sleep comes, at some pointâthough not easily. But as long as it took to come, it ends in an even shorter amount of time. When you finally do fall asleep, it feels as though only a few moments pass before your alarm begins to go off. You groan, your head still pounding, and roll over to bury yourself further under your covers. The blaring song of your alarm does nothing to ease the throbbing within your skull, and you wonder how youâre supposed to get into an airplane and make the trip. Will the climb in altitude make your head hurt worse?
 Itâs Kihyunâs groaning from the other room, followed by his annoyed stompsâthat finally wakes you. He silences your phone alarm before abruptly pulling your covers off you, making you groan again.
 âWake up,â Kihyun orders, and you feel your shoulder shoved at. âYou donât want to be late.â
 âI donât want to be at allâŠâ Comes your sleepily mumbled reply.
 âWe are not having an existential crisis at twelve in the morning. Get up. I will not hesitate to drag you out of bed,â Kihyun warns. âAnd your apartment floors are wood.â
 Letting out a sigh, you push yourself into a sitting position. Giving your eyes a rub, applying a slight pressure in hopes to ward away the throbbing headache, you drop your hands then blink a few times and allow your sight to adjust to the darkness of your bedroom.
 âYou still have a headache?â You see Kihyun frown in the dark.
 âWhy are you surprised? Itâs a constant thing nowadays,â you sigh once more, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed. âPlus, it took forever to fall asleep. Iâll just sleep on the plane, though. Do you mind packing the car and Iâll get ready?â
 You donât really wait for Kihyun to answer, knowing heâll do so anyway without you having asked, moving around to collect the clothes youâd set out the evening before and heading to the bathroom. One of Kihyunâs pet peeves was being tardy, and while you lived close enough to the airport that it wasnât a huge deal to leave a little laterâit had been Kihyunâs idea to at least get there an hour and a half earlier than your flight. Which honestly made sense on any normal occasion, but the airport was sure to be a bit on the dead side considering the time of night.
 It doesnât take you long to get ready. Your warm morning shower does nothing to ease the tension in your headâa last ditch effort you had hoped might work. By the time youâve finished a very shortened version of your morning routine brushing your teeth, drying your hair, and applying your facial careâKihyun already has the car packed and is pouring some food into Silasâ bowl, before pulling a hoodie on and getting ready himself. You gather the last of your toiletry items that need to be packed, and when the two of you head downstairs and you bid your farewell to your beloved feline, you stuff your toiletry bag into the top zipper of your luggage.
 Kihyun was right to urge you to leave earlier rather than later. Despite the distance to the airport, thereâs a decent amount of midnight traffic due to it being a weekend. You close your eyes as he drives, the blinding city and street lights glaring against the glass window of the car and burning your pupils and head. Kihyunâs smooth operation of the vehicle makes it easy to doze off a couple of times before you arrive. While the traffic may have been on the heavier side, you still make it early, and with plenty of time to spare.
 âMake sure to tell me when you land,â Kihyun orders as he helps pull your bags out of the trunk of the car.
 âI will.â Youâd be sure not to have a repeat of the hotel opening night, where he hadnât checked in on you when youâd called out, and out of spite you hadnât bothered to reach out to him. âMake sure you send me plenty of photos of Silas while Iâm gone.â
 âHeâll be fine, heâs a cat.â
 You jut out your bottom lip into a pout. âThatâs not what I said.â
 Kihyun scoffs, but reaches up to pat your head gently. âIâll send you photos. Please try to see if you can get into a doctor while youâre there.â
 âYouâre going to keep pushing that, arenât you?â
 âAs much as I possibly can,â Kihyun lowers his hand to give you a one-armed hug. âIâm going to miss pestering you. I donât think weâve been separated for a week since we met in college.â
 âYou could just say youâre going to miss me like a normal person would.â
 âThereâs no fun in that though.â Kihyun grins down at you, before nodding towards the entrance to your gate.
 Giving a small wave, you gather your luggage and head inside. In total, it takes about thirty minutes to get your bag checked, get yourself checked in for your flight, and to go through security. Just as youâd suspected, the airport is practically dead at this hour and the lines are nonexistent. However, the traffic had been enough to make a dent in the time, and you thankfully donât have long to wait before they start calling for your gate to board. Thereâs exactly enough time to grab a quick pastry from a nearby coffee shop that happened to be open before making your way onto the plane when your seat section is called.
 You board the plane, stow your carryon in the overhead compartment, and then claim your seat and fasten your seatbelt. Having flown before, you stick your earbuds in your earsâfiguring youâll listen to the flight attendantsâ usual spiel when the time cameâbut more eager to make yourself comfortable and attempt some more sleep as quickly and as soon as possible. Especially since youâd been lucky enough to snag an unclaimed window seat. This meant you were tucked away in your own little back corner, hopefully left alone for the sixteen hours ahead by whoever decided to take up being your seat partner.
 Hopefully left alone was too much along the lines of wishful thinking.
 As you stare out the window, watching workers move about below in the dark as they load and prep the plane for takeoffâyou suddenly feel an uncomfortable tug on the cord of your earbud, before itâs pulled straight from your ear. You canât help but grimace, feeling the bud tug at one of your many piercings.
 âWhat the hellââ
 Just as you speak up, a voice thatâs all too familiar asks, simultaneously, âWhat are you listening to?â
 You blanch as you turn in your seat, coming face to face with none other than Lee Jooheon. He quirks a brow at you, tilting his head to the side as he inserts your stolen earbud into his own ear. You can just barely make out the dimple impressions on his cheeks, his mouth pressed into something along the lines of a smile suppressing an amused smirk.
 âHowââ The word falls from your lips, empty and confused. How, what? You wonder. How did he get here? How was he on the same flight as you? How did he recognize you? Not that youâd chosen to sit too far towards the back, honestlyâanyone walking into the plane after just boarding could easily recognize a familiar face with an empty seat next to them. You liked sitting toward the front-middle of planes when traveling; apparently, in this case, that was your downfall.
 âBusiness trip,â Jooheon just shrugs, replying simply. âWhy didnât you ever text me that night?â
 You turn away from him, pursing your lips. Text him? You briefly remembered him handing you a business card, though couldnât remember where it had slipped off toâtoo many drinks made it difficult to keep track of something that small. Heâd only asked for you to notify him you got home safe, anyway, so what was the big deal? His bodyguard that had escorted you home surely passed that bit of info along to him.
 Had heâa possible multimillion dollar heirâreally expected you to text him, unannounced? And why would he expect such a thing?
 Copying his shrug, you glance away from him. âI lost your business card.â
 It wasnât a lie. As much as you wanted to admit, it was easy to forget the business card and itâs whereabouts. It was easy to forget the possibility of texting him as heâd asked. With the alcohol that had coursed through you, it was easy to forget that entire night. That was something that would probably irk him if you did choose to admit it. However, what wasnât easy to forget were his words that randomly popped into your mind and turned over in your head, playing like a broken recordâDo you really not remember me?
 That, on the contrary, was something that irked you.
 What was there to remember? Had you really forgotten something? It was a question that burned into your mind, day and night, even when you attempted to suppress all thoughts of him. You tried not to allow yourself to think of the events of that day, or him. While the former was fairly easy, there was something about Jooheon himself that made the latter next to impossible. There was no way for you to fight off the burning curiosity heâd created, as much as you tried. You could forget everything but him and his mysterious words.
 âWell, we can fix that,â Jooheonâs reply doesnât miss a beat. Before you even have a chance to react to his words, you feel your unlocked phone slip through your fingers and out of your grasp.
 âH-Heyââ
 But Jooheon is paying no mind to your protest, and you watch as he swipes out of the Spotify app on your phone to open the dialing screen. His fingers glide across your screen as he inputs his number. He even goes a step further as to open your messages and start a new text to himselfâensuring he also had your number.
 As he hands your phone back to you, you frown, feeling your jaw tense. You glance down at the screen briefly, which heâd returned to your playlist, before looking back up at him. What would he do if you blatantly deleted his phone number? A part of you felt spiteful enough to do so just for the mere fact that he had taken your phone without asking and entered his number. Itâs fine, Iâll just delete his number after the flight, you decide. Even if he has my number, I can just block him.
 Whatever kind of coincidence this wasâit was just that. A coincidence. Nothing more would amount after this. It was rather unlucky you were stuck here for sixteen hours with the given circumstances, but you reminded yourself that this wouldnât be happening again, and to just suffer through it for now. But there was a small part of you that wasnât quite convinced it was merely just a coincidence, like you hoped⊠his words from the hotel opening night, like a broken record, continued to replay in your mind. You couldnât shake the feeling that there was something missing. Something you really had forgotten.
 âI like this song,â Jooheon comments off-hand, and you only hum in response, finally turning away. It would be an understatement to say you werenât really in the mood to engage him. Maybe heâd only spoken up and said that because youâd been staring for so long, taking your gaze the wrong way. Luckily, he doesnât seem to be completely lacking in common sense. Jooheon doesnât push for more of a reply out of you, allowing the two of you to sit in silence as the rest of the flight occupants take their seats.
 Itâs almost more unnerving to sit next to Jooheon without saying anything. During the hotel night, before things had gotten weird with what heâd muttered, you two had been able to freely talk without much difficulty. There was something about his energy that made it almost comfortable, yet invigorating, to be in his presence at that time. But now the invigoration has twisted and warped into an unnerving feeling. For the most part, you feel on edgeâyet thereâs still a high energy, a curiosity, that sparks between you. While the flight attendants review the usual plane and flying regulations, you find yourself glancing at Jooheon. The music still plays between the two of you, having not reclaimed your earbud and he having not offered to return it.
 Despite your better judgement, youâre aware of the way that the wire of the headphones rests against his shoulders, and how in normal, casual clothesâheâs actually quite broad. Itâs something you feel like you should have noticed when he was dressed to the nines in a suit, yet so many suit jackets have padding you werenât actually sure you would have trusted it. But in the simple hoodie he was wearing, you can see the breadth of his shoulders, and youâre positive itâs not because itâs oversized. He looks so simple, the outfit rounded together with some black sweatpants and a white shirt peeking out from underneath the hooded sweatshirt. So simple, and so unlike an heir or someone of his financial status. You try to ignore the fact that your brain keeps yelling at you that he looks good. Itâs not important right nowâor right ever, actually. Why did your mind feel the need to supply such an observation?
 Youâre about to pull your gaze away from your attention on Jooheon, when you notice something as you do soâwhere his hand lays on the armrest, his finger taps incessantly. The tapping seems to pick up speed, even becoming more sporadic, as you feel the plane beneath you pick up speed with the takeoff. For a moment, you lose yourself in the background noise of his tappingâthe tiny sound overtaking your senses and demanding your focus, a rhythmic and hypnotic thing. Donât worry about him, you tell yourself. But thereâs a part of your mind that is just too curious.
 âAre you okay?â You suddenly ask, dragging your eyes away from his fingers. The action seems to feel as though it takes slower than it should.Â
 âHuh?â Jooheon blinks at you in surprise, having not expected you to acknowledge him for the rest of the flight. Itâs then that he realizes what heâs doing, and he stills his hand. âYeah, fine.â
 But when you glance down, you notice the way he grips the armrest insteadâforcing his muscles to be still. You think he might start vibrating with the anxiety.
 âAre you sure?â
 Jooheon nods, though the action is terse. âI just donât like flying.â
 âDonât you have to do it a lot, though?â You ask, surprised. He was the heir to an international hotel chain. Wasnât he meant to do a lot of flying? Plus, he could be considered a businessman⊠the idea of him not liking flying and being used to planes confuses you.
 âIââ Jooheon starts, though his words are immediately cut off as the plane picks up, pulling itself off the ground as it officially takes off. Jooheon intakes his breath sharply, the takeoff pushing both of you back against your seats. Itâs not a rough takeoff, per se, but youâd definitely had smoother.
 Despite that, Jooheon isnât handling it well. Something within you pulls toward himâan innate need to protect that you can't quite explain. Itâs like a little tiny flame, you feel it stir within you and you canât help but want to feed it. The combination of his intake of breath, and the way his jaw clenches when he closes his eyes, causes you to reach out without thinkingâpractically prying his hand off the armrest to take hold of it.
 You wrap your hand around his, giving a reassuring squeeze.
 Jooheon is surprised by the contactâenough so he stills for a moment, opening his eyes to peer down at your hands in curiosityâbefore heâs caught by surprise by something else. Itâs in that moment that your hand folds around his, skin touching skin and your warmth flooding into his system through shared palmsâentwining itself around every nerveâthat everything stills. The sensation of everything within him simply quietingâthe black, reverberating anxiety that shook at his core like a thunderous stormcloud, and the way his stomach twisted with nausea at every jerky movement the plane made. But it wasnât just that, it was everything from that to standard stresses, a whirlwind of things that needed to be done for work, and the tormenting voices he often had to deal with within his own mindâthey all just silence at your touch.
 He finds his gaze locked on your hands, confused and curious all at the same time. Heâd never had this happen before. Was this something that was supposed to happen? Even if he wanted to, Jooheon feels as though heâs unable to pull away from the warmth there. Like your palms are magnetized, connected, and something he shouldnât pull apart. There was a warmth just beneath his hand, where his skin met your skin, that he could feel building like a little fire. But instead of overtaking everything in the way that a wildfire might, Jooheon finds the warmth to be soothing. Comforting, like a warm drink that fills you upâor perhaps closer to the sensation of sinking into the warm water of a bathtub. The silence within him is a welcome sensation that heâd personally like to drown himself in, if only to escape reality for just a little bit and stay suspended where he was in that strange sensation of lulled time.
 For you, the skin to skin contact with Jooheon is scalding. You immediately feel that electricity youâd felt the night of the hotel opening shoot across every nerve in your body like a cosmos, the tiny flame youâd been curious about flare up with a vengeance. The heat that floods through your system at his contact in places youâd never even imaginedâthe pit of your stomach, the cavity of your chest, the back of your throat, is parching and suffocating and entirely overwhelming. It overtakes you in such a way that you feel your chest seize up, like you canât breathe. But for some reason, you hang on to him. You wonder if youâll start shaking from the sudden pressure that feels as though itâs been placed on your body, hyper-aware of the contact of him.
 Yet, for some reason you donât have the answer to, nor the mind or focus to think aboutâdespite the way his skin contact is scalding, the nerves in your body ignited and burning from his touchâyou still find yourself reaching out to him during the flight. Itâs almost like itâs instinctual, though you arenât quite sure how that would even be possible. Every time you notice Jooheon tense or become physically uncomfortable, the incessant tapping of his fingertips against the arm of the seat picking back upâyou reach out to him. Your touch stills the anxiety from pouring out of his body in a physical form. It always happens when thereâs turbulence, Jooheon seemingly seizing up every time the plane acts up in any way. You find it an odd fear or worry to have, considering he should be someone accustomed to flying so much, but you suppose people donât get to pick and choose what it is that theyâre afraid of.
 For a good majority of the flight, Jooheon opts to leave you alone. As much as he has questions and curiosities, and a need to hear your voice, he doesnât want to push his luck. Every time your hand finds his whenever the turbulence of the plane gets to be too much for himâeverything within him stills after a shock of electricity passes through his system from your touch. Itâs like that single strike flashes through his system, piercing through every bit of thick, smoky anxiety in its wake. But beyond that touch, Jooheon doesnât ask or prompt for much more. And as the turbulence settles the longer the sixteen-hour flight drags on, the less Jooheon feels your touch that acts as a solid comfort to him. Instead, he relies more on the music the two of you listen to together. You never ask for the earbud back, and the cord of the shared headphones acts as the main thing linking you together the more time passes.
 Jooheon only pushes his luck a little bit every time food or snacks come around. He takes these moments to chat with the stewardess, asking some questions, and pulling you into the conversation with ease. Itâs then that you find yourself stuck in small chats with him as he passes you snacks, drinks, or your meal. Luckily, itâs easy conversation thatâfor the most partâdoesnât push any boundaries, and always has something to do with the food being passed around. Questions like, How does that taste? Whatâs your favorite food? And barters to trade snacks. Theyâre interactions that donât require much of a thought process otherwise, just meaningless words to fill the silence and help pass the time. While most of your interactions with him up until that point had been begrudging, to put kindly, Jooheon couldnât help but be surprised at how receptive you could actually be.
 In between conversation, you spend the flight trying to get some shut-eye in, as you had originally plannedâto no avail. You arenât sure if itâs the presence of Jooheon being so close to you, his flying anxiety, or the sensation and sounds that came with flying that make it difficult to find sleep. From the corner of his eyes, youâre unaware of Jooheon watching you nod off every now and again, unable to ignore the way your head starts to bob or fall back against the seat suddenly. At these times, you barely manage to catch just a few fleeting moments of rest, something you couldnât quite place your finger on always stirring you back awake.Â
 Itâs during one of these brief moments when you stir back awake that you notice Jooheon working on a tablet. At first, you think nothing of it, wanting to go back to sleepâeven though youâre almost certain itâs impossible at this pointâbut, then it dawns on you that Jooheon is focused and quiet, and most importantly: Working, and not bothering you. As much as you hated to admit it, youâd become accustomed to Jooheon pestering you every time you moved even an inch. His silence almost disturbed you.
 You blink a few times, blearily at first, refocusing your gaze and quietly straightening in your seat to peek a glance at the tablet. It sits in Jooheonâs lap, propped against one of his knees that he has raised and crossed over the other leg, where he drags the stylus against the screen, moving a specific item back and forth across the piece heâs working on. You canât tell if heâs being erratic or indecisive. For a moment, though, you stareâstudying what you assume to be some sort of pamphlet being put together for a hotelâbefore a yawn overtakes you.
 When the yawn subsides, you shift in your seat, leaning closer to Jooheon. You give his elbow a nudge on the arm rest as you peer further over his shoulder at the tablet. âThereâs too much white space.â
 You bite your lip to keep from laughing when Jooheon startles in surprise at your sudden intrusion into his spaceâhaving thought you were asleep stillâletting a curse in Korean slip from his mouth under his breath. Cute, you canât help but think, offering up a sheepish smile as if to apologize when Jooheon turns his head to stare you down, his eyes screaming offense. Jooheon lets out a small sigh, turning away and lifting a hand up to pat his chest and clear his throatâattempting to settle a heart that had almost tried to jump out of his chest.
 âI canât get this layout to work,â Jooheon says as he returns his attention to the tablet in front of him.
 You reach over the armrest, and over his arm which holds the tablet, pointing at the screen as you speak. âYou should resize these things, and then move this font here, and this image here. You could also do an overlay with a neutral color to offset the layers of this.â
 As you point to what youâre talking about, careful not to touch the tablet and accidentally move something, Jooheon watchings your index finger carefully. You donât notice the way his brows knit in focus, hanging on every word you say and carefully listening to you. You also donât notice the way that, as you speak, heâll find himself losing focus for just a split second to allow his eyes to flicker to your faceâso close to his as you lean over the armrestâtaking a fleeting moment to admire the way you seem so serious and concentrated, your eyes alight with determined focus. Jooheon glances away from you, and back down to the tablet as you speak, feeling the corners of his lips twitch with amusement. This is what you liked doing. It was the part of your job that you liked, and he could tell. A stark contrast to the night of the hotel opening, which just seemed stressful and forced on you.
 Itâs Jooheonâs turn to shift in his seat, leaning closer to you as he pulls his arm back and puts the tablet on the armrest between the two of you. You feel yourself freeze slightly at the proximity, having been so focused on what you were telling him. He lifts his hand, holding out the stylus to you. You blink, glancing at him and meeting his gazeâbrief enough that it makes your chest clenchâbefore glancing at the stylus.
 âWhat?â
 âIâm not going to retain any of what you just said. I got a bit of it. You take over.â
 âYou⊠want me?â You blink in surprise, glancing at the screen of the tablet, and at him again. âThis seems important though. Itâs for your work, I could mess it upââ
 Jooheon scoffs. âPlease, if anythingâIâm the one thatâll mess it up. Youâre the journalism major here, Iâd say youâre much more qualified.â
 âThen why are you doing this?â You ask, relenting and taking the stylus from Jooheon.
 âWe acquired a hotel in Los Angeles a few months back thatâs been undergoing renovationâfor the line of hotels I introduced at the grand opening the other night. The one in Seoul was built from the ground up, but weâve slowly been expanding and we took a historic hotel and made it our own,â Jooheon explains, watching as you finally touch the stylus tip to the tablet and begin to work. âAnyway, long explanation shorterâthe opening for that and the reintroduction of the new management is soon, but we recently lost our marketing manager. We havenât been able to find someone else to hire, and weâve got deadlines to reach. Iâve been trying to help out by taking over half of the job duties from the general manager.â
 âThatâs very⊠responsible of you.â
 âWell, this whole chain is my responsibility,â Jooheon muses. âSo, yeah. But also my best friend is the GM and his ass is getting kicked. Neither of us are any good at this, weâre just good at the business portion of it.â
 The conversation falls off there, Jooheon realizing youâre focusing. Hearing he and his general manager were struggling made you feel more pressure, and you canât help but mentally chastise yourself for stepping in and helping, despite how clearly he had been struggling. Luckily, Jooheon stays close to you as he watches you work, leaning against the armrest. You try not to focus too much on the way your shoulders touch, or the way his scent flows into your space as he delegates a little, giving you technical hotel terminology to include and add in as the pamphlet comes to life on the tablet screen and the white space that had been taking up the majority of the screen before slowly melts away. When he challenges something you do, he allows for you to explain your reasoning behind it and listens carefully as you do so. You find yourself surprised at how well he listens, and how easily it is to compromise with him on certain things.
 You two spend a couple of hours working away at the project together before determining itâs finished, Jooheon and yourself both pleased with the outcome. Jooheon is smiling with enough force that his dimples show on his cheeks, and you canât help but find yourself smiling along with himâhis happiness infectious; youâre happy heâs happy, and youâre happy to have helped. Yet even with the happiness, you find your eyes stinging because of staring at a bright screen for so long, and are acutely aware of your beloved ever-present migraine rearing its ugly head even more than it had at the start of the flight. Jooheon takes note of the way you lift a hand to pinch your nose, attempting to suppress the pain throbbing from your skull.
 âGet some sleep. I wonât bother you anymore,â Jooheon comments, lifting the tablet up briefly to give it a small wave. âThanks for your help though.â
 âNo problem,â you mumble, suppressing yawn. His thank you catches you off-guard, enough so that you lower your hand from the bridge of your nose to blink at him a couple of times. But heâs not paying attention, turning away from you to put the tablet back into a carry-on heâd had stowed underneath the seat ahead of him. You shift in your seatâaway from the position which had you closer to himâattempting to make yourself comfortable again as you close your eyes.
 Sleep seems like a fever dream to you. Something youâre aware that youâre receiving, but never feeling quite satisfied from it. As if itâs there, but simultaneously not; all a figment of your imagination. You begin to doze almost immediately after closing your eyes, the migraine practically pushing you to do so, because keeping your eyes open hurt too much. The intensity of the migraine doesnât relent, though, which has you dozing and waking just as you had before youâd begun helping Jooheon with his work. Just as before, you find yourself going in and out of consciousness, nodding off and startling awake when your head begins to bob or tip too far. You sleep in incrementsânone of it restful.
 Jooheon is aware of your restlessness next to him, but heâd promised not to bother youâand he has to remind himself of that. But the way your head tips and bobs makes him feel anxious for you. Especially because he could briefly recall a mention of a constant headache the night of the hotel opening, and he couldnât help but wonder if the reason sleep wasnât coming to you easily was because of that. Had you been serious about it? You had a dry sense of humor, which he found quite amusing, but it had him often wondering if what you said was the truth or not at certain timesâand did a decent job to keep him on his toes as he attempted to figure out whether you were being serious at times.
 He gives in to listening to himself constantly telling himself that he had said he wouldn't bother you, though, after too much time passes watching your head nod as sleep attempts to overtake you. That has got to be uncomfortable on the neck⊠he thinks to himself, completely giving in when he watches your head fall forward a bit too far. Jooheon reaches out to catch your head, guiding it gently toward his shoulder. As he does so, he sinks lower in his seat just a bit, so your head can rest more comfortably against him. Heâs a little disappointed to find that the instant calm and quiet that had overtaken him earlier during the turbulence from your touch doesnât envelop him warmly againâhe is, however, surprised to find that after a few moments pass, you shift in your seat closer to him. When Jooheon glances at you after feeling the movement, he finds you still asleepâthankfullyâslumping to the side to lean towards him more comfortably, snuggling against his shoulder.
 The way you nuzzle against him has him tensing in surpriseâa heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. The action from you and the heat he feels overtake him with a sudden ferocity are familiar. Too familiar. A type of hunger heâd rather not put a name to.
 No, Lee Jooheon. Not right now. He clenches his jaw, glancing away from you and swallowing roughly, feeling parched suddenly. It was strange how different actions elicited different reactions, his body responding in such stark contrast to each. As Jooheon turns away, he carefully lifts his hood up and over his head, closing his eyes.
 He should sleep, too. There was still quite a bit of flight left.
â
Youâre met with silence when you finally wake.
 The plane is bustling and alive, a quiet hum of sound that reverberates through the cabin as people speak in hushed tones and get ready for their landing. These sounds all come to you, slowly seeping into your consciousness. Before your body fully wakesâbefore you begin to tense your muscles and stretch, and a yawn overtakes you while your eyes crack openâyour mind wakes first. And you notice something that seems a little off.
 Everything is silent.
 Your headache is completely gone.
 You stay still for a moment, reveling in the odd silence, though your mind is reeling as to why the migraines which had been plaguing you for months were just suddenly gone. The cavity of your skull where your mind rests feels empty, but in an oddly good way. What had changed? What had happened? Was it the ascension in the plane to a higher altitude? Was that even something that could stop chronic migraines?
 It almost felt too good to be true, considering your migraines also came hand-in-hand with your pockets of disappearing memory. For all that to just suddenly stop felt too good to be true.
 Furrowing your brows, you squeeze your eyes closed tighter. You want to stay hereâsuspended in silence and the darkness behind your eyelidsâforever. There was no ache just beyond your temple that caused nausea; the pain so bad sometimes you felt like you might pass out. There was no ache behind your eyes that typically brought about the stinging sensation of tears, and made the glaring brightness of any sort of light hurt. There was nothing. There was just silence. No thoughts, no suffocating pressure, no pain.
 âAre you awake now?â Abruptly, Jooheonâs not-so-welcome, yet familiar, voice breaks through your silence.
 Begrudgingly, you open your eyes, blinking a few times to readjust to the light. And then, you blink again, realizing the tilted angle at which youâre resting.
 âSleep well?â The hint of amusement in Jooheonâs voice has you jolting uprightâand off his shoulder, where youâd been resting your head. You take a moment to stare ahead, refusing to meet Jooheonâs curious gaze that you can feel burning into you. Silently, you swallow down your nervousness and glance to your side, avoiding his gaze for a moment to stare at his shoulderâyour makeshift pillow for who knows how longâthen you lift your eyes to meet his.
 Without prompting vocally again, Jooheon simply raises an eyebrow.
 You almost hate to admit you did sleep well, considering the push and pull you kept experiencing towards Jooheon. There were too many unanswered questions about him, too many things that made you curious and worried at the same time. He was too mysterious. Admitting something like this to him almost felt like you were placing a playing card right in his hand. There was a small part of you that wondered if his presence had anything to do with it, but you immediately pushed that thought out of your mind, writing it off as absolutely absurd. You barely knew him, how would he have any sort of effect on you such as that?
 Letting out a sigh, you nod finally in answer.
 Jooheon takes the silent answer with a small nod of his own, turning away to gather his belongings which had been at his feet to begin putting in the backpack he had, before pushing it back under the seat before him. âThatâs good, you looked like you needed some decent rest.â
 âApparently so. My headacheâor rather, migraineâis gone.â
 When Jooheon straightens in his seat, he turns to look at you again. âYou mentioned once you had a constant headache. Was it that bad?â
 You nod. âIt would vary. Sometimes it was a headache, sometimes a migraine. Anywhere from manageable to incapacitating, but always constant. Itâs been going on for almost three months now, I think?â
 âThat long?â Jooheonâs eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and the corners of his lips immediately follow in the opposite direction, pulling down into a frown. âYou mentioned during our first meeting you were stressed, but that sounds like something more than just stress. Have you been to a doctor?â
 âPlease, finding the time is too difficult. Donât start nagging me like Kihyun.â Out of habit, the borderline pushiness of his words has you reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. Thereâs no headache there to attempt to subsideâwhich has your hand just as quickly falling down from your face. You frown at your palm, studying it. The habit had been built on stress, and as stressful as Jooheonâs miniscule attempt to nag had been, there was no physical representation of that stress like usual.
 Maybe Kihyun is the problem, you muse to yourself. He did have a tendency to nag to the extreme. Almost like a mother.
 âIâm starting to think Kihyun might be on to something,â Jooheon grumbles from next to you, causing you to lift your gaze from your hand. âYou seem to be stubborn, you need someone to nag you, it seems like. You should find the time. Three months almost certainly implies thereâs some sort of underlying health concern.â
 âMy headache is still gone, donât ruin the moment. If you keep it up, itâs almost certainly going to come back.â
With a scoff, you look away from him and nestle back into your seat. As you do so, an announcement over the intercom notifies everyone aboard the plane of the oncoming landing. Instructions to start preparing for landing by putting away and stowing all belongings follows, and the stewardess over the speaker ends the announcement by asking everyone to return to their seats and begin buckling up.
 âFine. I wonât ruin this moment. But I canât promise for any future moments,â Jooheon declares. When you glance at him in surprise, he looks over at you with a small dimpled smirk. You end up rolling your eyesârolling your gaze away from him. How the heck was he so annoying, yet somehow charming?
 As if someone hears the word charming cross through your mindâthe plane hits a bit of turbulence just before it begins to tip to the side, turning to make a circle to land. Itâs a very slight maneuver, almost unnoticeable. In fact, you were so accustomed to flying that you really wouldnât have noticed it yourself, if not for the fact that Jooheon, next to you, was visibly tensing as he had earlier. His hand, lying on the armrest between you, grips the edge so hard the skin pulls taught and translucent over his knuckles.
 Even Jooheonâs unusual fear and his reaction to it, something you had become accustomed to during the flight, was somehow charming.
 Wordlessly, you reach out, pushing your hand beneath his where it grips the armrest. It takes a bit of urging before he feels your fingertips pushing against the base of his palm near his wrist, attempting to push your way underneath. When Jooheon does, he glances at you in surprise, lifting his hand just enough for you to slip yours beneath to take hold of him as you had before.
 When your palms connect, fingers wrapping around his and him returning the gesture, that scalding feeling from before returns. You knew youâd be burned, touching himâyet for some reason, as you had so many times through the flight alreadyâit was a risk you were willing to take. That same electricity that youâd felt before, and felt from the night of the hotel opening, shoots up your arm from where your palms connect and shoots across every nerve in your body again. This time, though, it feels so much strongerâand now you wonder if the clarity of your migraine being gone is a good thing, or a bad thing. Without the heavy, leaden fog that rests over your mind with the migraine, youâre suddenly aware and feel everything. So much so that the contact this time and the reaction your body has to him makes you flinch in surprise, though very subtly.
 Jooheon, of course, takes silent noteâhis eyes never not watching you curiously.
 That electric fire that swarms through you happens in such a brief amount of time that it takes you a few moments of staring at your hand, connected with Jooheonâs, to realize that it at some point quiets down to something more akin to a simmer. Warm, and somehow pleasant. Something like sitting in a window, where sun filters through, your eyes closed against the sunlight that warms the glass and warms you.
 You really had to be going crazy, you think. Jooheon was handsome but there was no way you were attracted to himâright?
 Meanwhile, the same warmth floods through Jooheon, euphoric and soothing. He draws his eyes away from you, clenching his jaw and trying not to physically react to the fuzzy feeling that overtakes him, filling him up yet again. The welcome silence of everything stopping within him returns. If he isnât careful, heâs sure he might let out a sigh of contentment that would give everything away. And so, he clenches his jaw a little tighter, pursing his lips.
 âYouâre going to break the poor armrest,â you say, past a knot that forms in your throat. Your throat feels dry, seizing up again. You feel awkward just holding his handâespecially as you try to make sense of the sudden fire that had built up just as it had before, before slowly dying down into something more manageable. This time, it wasnât as suffocating. Yet you still felt somehow nervous and small next to him, that unnerving edginess he causes settling over you again. Your body was starting to feel as though it was experiencing whiplash.
 A little over sixteen hours spent in his presence was starting to confuse you. Were you still irked by him, yet somehow intrigued? Or were you actually starting to soften up to him? You had to admit that his mysterious riddled words and overly generous actions had made you immediately throw up a wall⊠but he hadnât been that bad during this flight. Heâd been much more normal, still as charming, but besides taking your phone for himselfâhe hadnât pushed any boundaries or said anything weird.
 âYouâd rather I break your hand, then?â Jooheon retorts good-naturedly, which has you suddenly snorting out a small laugh.
 âPlease donât actually break it. I need to return to work after this trip.â
 âWhat are you on this trip for, anyway?â Jooheon wonders, and when you look at him with a frown, he shrugs. âI told you what Iâm going to LA for.â
 âFamily reasons.â
 âA vacation, then?â
 You shake your head, grimacing at the thought of what awaits you when you land. Although Jooheon has made the flight a little more bearable, despite everything you thought about him prior, a small part of you wishes you hadnât even boarded the plane back in Seoul. Knowing what you were walking into when the plane landedâyou wished for everything that, somehow, you wouldnât have to. If only you hadnât been pressured into taking this trip. You wanted to stay suspended here, with your migraine gone and a bit of peace from everything in life and just spend some time not thinking. Not thinking about work, not thinking about family, and not thinking about how much pain you were constantly in. Kihyun had told you to get your migraine checked out while you were near your family doctor, but you wondered when youâd have time for thatâwondered how long this peace from the head pain would last. Which is why you wanted to keep it, for as long as possible. It was so nice to have some silence and a break from it all. Soon, youâd be walking back into more pain. Unwillingly so, but that was the outcome, nonetheless.
 âItâs not going to feel like a vacation.â Comes your answer, just as the plane lands. Itâs at that moment that Jooheon squeezes your hand, the impact of the plane hitting the runway jostling everyone inside just a bit. But thereâs something in the way that he gives the squeezeâalmost reassuring instead of to comfort himselfâthat has you staring at your hands, yet again, in silent curiosity.
 Jooheon keeps holding your hand up until the plane reaches a complete stop once it pulls up to the jetway. Itâs only then that he relinquishes his hold, and the both of you silently gather up the belongings which youâd brought as carry on items onto the plane. Other passengers begin to do the same, standing in their rows and slowly beginning to exit the plane. Jooheon, once he has everything in his backpack heâd brought with him, soon stands in the row you share, turning to glance over his shoulder. As you finish gathering your things into the backpack youâd brought on the plane with you after claiming it from the overhead bin, you look up at himânoticing him searching.
 You peek over the top edge of your seat just as Jooheon appears to have found who he was looking for, giving a curt nod of acknowledgement. âIâll meet you outside,â he says, nodding over his shoulder to signal when they exit the plane. You squint, studying the people, before your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, instantly recognizing the larger built man a few aisles back from you who seems to nod a reply to Jooheon.
 âHe was here too?â You blurt out, without thinking, memories immediately flashing back to the night youâd been drunk and that man had taken you home. You grimace, sinking down in your seat a bit and hoping he doesnât see you.
 Your outburst causes Jooheon to glance down at you in surprise, lips twitching in amusement at your reaction and the way you attempt to hide yourself. âOf course. Hoseokâs my bodyguard. And kind of an assistant, since he keeps track of all my schedules.â
 âWhyâd you sit with me instead of the person you came on this trip with?â
 Jooheon shrugs. âYouâre much more interesting. Plus, I see him every day.â
 You frown, but before you can reply, Jooheon reaches down behind you where you sit, backpack on, and gives the hook strap on your bag a tug, urging you to your feet. The two aisles ahead of you move to make their exit, marking it as your turn next. Jooheon turns away as you stand, stepping out of the aisleâand his next action catches you by surprise. He steps out enough to block others from cutting out and ahead, nodding for you to go first. Blinking in surprise, you almost trip as you rush out of the aisle so as to not hold up the line, feeling Jooheon keep close behind you as he follows.
 You donât realize until youâre off the plane that Jooheon has an ulterior motive by letting you exit first. As soon as youâve cleared the bridge connecting the plane to the terminal gate, and have stepped out into the waiting area, Jooheon steps forward from behind you and slips his hand into your own. He takes a firm hold, tugging you along as he leads you off.Â
 âHey!â Surprised, you stumble after him, having not even had a chance to figure out what your next step after arrival would beâyouâd traveled back in time, and it was almost nine oâclock at night on a Friday in Los Angeles. You needed to figure out a form of transportation home, first and foremost, before things started to close down. âJ-Jooheon!â
 The sound of his name slows his pace down, and Jooheon glances over his shoulder at you with a quirked browâbut he doesnât stop walking. âThatâs the second time youâve said my name.â
 You frown, staring at him. Had he been counting such a thing? You hadnât really been aware youâd said his name so little⊠but you had been avidly avoiding the use of it. You didnât want to give him too much power by using his name. It was better, you thought, to just keep him as a stranger. Thatâs what youâd thought the night of the opening ceremony and the nights following where heâd constantly tormented the gaping hole in your memory. Unfortunately, heâd pushed past that boundary line alreadyâsomething you were well aware of. Lee Jooheon was more like an acquaintance now, and as much as you hated itâit was too late to turn back.
 âWeâre going to go get food,â he announces when you donât say anything to his statement, turning away from you to keep leading you on.
 You give your hand a tug, attempting to pull it back to yourself. âWe donât need to, thoughââ
 âNonsense, Iâm starving. The plane meals weren't that filling.â Jooheon glances over his shoulder at you again. âAnd like I said, youâre much more interesting to spend time with. Iâm not done doing so yetâas soon as you leave this airport, who knows when Iâll see you again, or if youâll even use that phone number I put in your cell? LAâs a much bigger city than Seoul, we might not cross paths at all while weâre here.â
 âWhy does that matter?â You grumble. You wanted to keep things at the acquaintance level.
 Jooheon shrugs. âMatters to me. But please, just indulge me for a bit. Iâm stuck here for at least a week having to do work. I might not get to see anything outside of a hotel for the entire time.â
 You sigh, but give up trying to pull your hand back to you. Jooheon doesnât free you of his grasp until youâre being seated. As you stop outside the restaurant heâs chosen, you canât help but stare up at the sign on the wall for the Mexican food eatery, grimacing. Jooheon catches the face you make as you sit across from himâand when your eyes meet as you take your seat, and you realize heâd seen you make the face, you let out another sigh.
 âDid we really have to eat here? Airport food is so expensive.â
 âItâs quick and convenient. Plus, Iâm paying.â
 âWhat?â You shake your head. You already owed him, you didnât want more added on. âNo, definitely not.â
 âYouâre indulging me, so Iâll be the one to handle the bill.â Jooheon reaches across the table, tapping the menu that had been set down in front of you by the waiter before they had disappeared. After doing so, Jooheon pulls his phone out of his pocket and busies himself with it.
 You purse your lips, scanning the limited menu options. The downside to airport food, besides the price, was how little there was to choose from. That being said, it made making a final decision a lot easier and faster. When the waiter comes back aroundâthe two of you being among the very few people sitting to eat at that time of nightâyou both place your order with ease.
 Just as the waiter leaves, Jooheonâs phone rings. He glances at the phone face to see whoâs calling, before answering in Korean. While the voice on the other end of the line speaks, you decide to pull your own phone out of your bag that youâd brought with you. Having been dragged away by Jooheon, you hadnât had a chance to turn your phone off airplane mode. You do so, and then wait for the onslaught of messages to pour through.
 âHey,â Jooheon says from across the table. You glance up from your phone to look at him, just as your finger pushes the little slider to turn airplane mode off. âWhat does your luggage look like?â
 For a moment, you just stare at Jooheon, confused.
 âItâs Hoseok, heâs at baggage claim.â
 âOh.â The word falls from your lips slowly as his words settle into your mind, realization dawning on you. Thatâs rightâyouâd been dragged away so fast youâd also forgotten about your checked luggage that you had to pick up. âUh, itâs a larger black suitcase. I have a yellow ribbon tied to it.â
 Jooheon nods, repeating the information to Hoseok. As he does so, you overhear him follow up by telling his bodyguard-assistant that the two of you are eating, and apologizing profusely for running off. Itâs clear from the tone the conversation takes that Jooheon isnât going to be let off easy, despite being the boss. You zone out, then, instead returning your focus back to your own phone. But the screen contents are empty when you tap the screen to wake the phone from sleep, unlocking it.
 The lack of any sort of notification causes you to frown. Of course, it was past nine now, so you doubted anyone here that was waiting for you to arrive actually cared about you arriving. This entire trip had been a guilt trip, and was an inconvenience for you. You were sure drama would start as soon as you arrived home. It was likely no one had even stayed up to greet you, so why would anyone bother to check and see if your flight had gone well? There had been minimal communication leading up to your departure, anyway.
 Doing the math in your head, you count back, figure that itâs a little after one in the afternoon back in Korea. The fact that there was no message from Kihyun, either, was a little deterringâconsidering it was a weekend in the middle of the afternoon. But then you remembered he had asked you to call him when you landed. Mentally chastising yourself, you open your text messages and send him a quick text, letting him know youâve landed and were grabbing some food, and would call him a little later.
 âYou okay?â Jooheon asks, now off the phone. Heâd been sitting there quietly for a few moments, watching your expression turn increasingly sour.
 Hearing his voice, you startle in surpriseâhaving not even realized heâd gone silent. You fumble with your phone, locking it quicklyâslightly guiltilyâand pull your gaze back up to him. Not long ago, youâd been trying to get out of eating with him and slip away as fast as you possibly could. But, now you realize it didnât really matter. It wasnât like you had anywhere to go.
  âYeah, fine,â you mumble sheepishly.
 Jooheon clicks his tongue, reaching for the glass of water the waiter had set on the table when seating the two of you. âThatâs a lie,â he says, before taking a drink. âBut I wonât press.â
 Before you can react to that, wondering how Jooheon would know such a thing was a lie, your waiter returns with your food. The way you can feel your expression instantly lighten on your face, your stomach growling in response to the delectable scentâyou realize thatâs how Jooheon had known you were lying. Thinking about what you were returning home too had dampened your mood enough that it was visible on your face. But the smell of the expensive, yet delicious-looking, airport food had lightened it back up.
 Jooheon smiles softly, watching you, amused at how easily food motivated you seemed to be. He gives a quiet thanks to the waiter before joining you, taking a bite of the tacos that had been ordered. The two of you eat in silence, for the most part. The only questions Jooheon asks are if you like the food, just as he had done on the plane, and how long youâll be in Los Angeles for. Neither answer illicit much of a further reaction from him, or push him to speak moreâand so you finish your shared meal together quite quicklyâand thankfully before things get awkward with the staff as the restaurant nears closing time.
 You wait by the entrance while Jooheon finishes up paying. As he turns away from the counter, he sticks the receipt he was given in his wallet, before shoving that into the pocket of his sweatpants, walking over to meet you. You offer up a smile as he stops next to you.
 âThanks for the food.â âThank you for eating with me,â Jooheon replies, returning your smile. He canât help but take note of how soft, and slightly shy, the way your lips appear to be turned up on your face. Itâs cute. Before much more can be said, his phone goes off in his pocket.
 The sound makes you a bit jealous, and you watch as Jooheon pulls the device out and studies the name on the screen. He lets out a very long sigh before he answers the phoneâand youâre almost surprised itâs in Korean, again.
 âI just finished eating,â you hear Jooheon say, and you turn away as he speaks on the phone.
 As you do so, you blink, catching sight of somethingâor rather, someoneâpeculiar.
 âDaniel?â The name falls from your lips with confusion, but with a raised-enough voice that the owner of the nameâthe person walking towards youâlifts their head in answer, confirming your suspicion.
 Jooheon, standing behind you, hears your voice not only against his earsâbut he also hears it echo within his phone receiver, as well. Blinking in confusion, he pulls his cell phone away from his ear just enough to stare at it, surprised and confused, before turning around slowly. Jooheon looks at you, first, then lifts his gaze up to see what youâre staring at with such a surprised expression.
 âChangkyun.â
 You glance over your shoulder at Jooheon, hearing a name fall from his lips that isnât a questionâbut rather, a statement. Seeing where Jooheon is staring, you look back.
 Danielâor Changkyunâstops dead in his tracks where heâs walking, the cell phone heâs holding to his ear frozen there. He stares, dumbfounded, looking between you and Jooheon. After a few moments, your name falls from his lips in surpriseâout of breath and nostalgic, the familiarity of it hits you like a wave. And then, his next word that follows has you blanching in surprise, looking once again back over your shoulder at Jooheon.
 âUh, hi, Boss.â
 Jooheon purses his lips, lowering his phone from his ear and hanging up the call. He shoves the device back into his pocket. âYouâre late.â
 âS-sorry, you know how LA traffic is.â
 âYou two know each other?â You blurt, suddenly, just as Daniel nears the two of you, slowly coming to a stop.
 âI want to ask the same thing.â As he speaks, Jooheon quirks a brow at you.
 âActually,â Changkyun clears his throat. âSame.â
 âThis is the best friend-general manager that I was telling you about on the flight, for our LA location,â Jooheon explains, before nodding in your direction. âAnd sheâs my favorite small-time journalist in Seoul.â
 Favorite small-time journalist. The words ring in your head, and youâre suddenly propelled back to weeks ago when you had found yourself wondering if Jooheon had a hand in how well your article had been doing. You purse your lips, but decide not to say anything.
 Itâs Changkyunâs turn to quirk a brow, but youâre too busy turning the rest of Jooheonâs words over in your head to react. It takes a moment before your eyes suddenly widen. Your head snaps up in the direction of Daniel, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and mouth falling open. âYou?! A general manager?!â
 âWow, the lack of faith in your incredulous reaction is a testament to your faith in me,â Changkyun mutters, tone dripping with sarcasm. All you do is shake your head, still in disbelief, before looking back at Jooheon.
 âWe went to high school together,â you reply simply. âAnd middle school, actually. Weâve been friends since then.â
 âSpeaking of, why are you back? Are you here forââ Before Changkyun can finish his sentence, you loudly cut him off.
 âOh! Look! Hoseok has the luggage!â And before waiting for either of the men next to you to react, you push past Daniel in a rush, heading towards Jooheonâs bodyguard. Changkyun blinks, surprised, meeting Jooheonâs eyes before looking over his shoulder at you. Jooheon simply shrugs, following after you a little more slowly.
 âHow are you getting home?â Jooheon asks as he catches back up to you, watching as Hoseok relinquishes your luggage back to your own possession.
 You give Hoseok a small thanks, turning back. âIâm just going to call an Uber or Lyft.â
 Jooheon frowns, before looking at Changkyun. âHow close are you two?â
 âUh⊠close, I guess? Our families know each other, and we keep in touch, albeit inconsistently because of work.â
 âPerfect. Let her borrow your car.â
 In unison, you and Changkyun both blurt out, âWhat?â
 âItâs late, and itâs safer. We can just get the Uber. This way you can just head home,â Jooheon explains, matter-of-factly. âAnd if you two went to school together and your families are familiar with each other, Iâm sure you know where to pick your car up.â
 âHey,â you mutter, scowling at Jooheon. âThatâs not really for you to decideââ
 Changkyun sighs, waving you off. âItâs fine, itâs not a big deal. He has the right idea. You live like twenty minutes away from here, anyway.âÂ
 You frown, wanting to argue furtherâbut you feel Jooheonâs intense gaze on you and figure it probably wonât get you very far. But to just make that decision on his own, without asking⊠you cut Jooheon a look of annoyance before turning your attention back to Changkyun as he fishes his car keys out of his pocket, pulling the car key off and taking the remaining keys on the ring. He hands it over to you, briefly explaining heâd left the car in the loading port after convincing the attendant outside that heâd only be a short amount of time, urging you should likely go soon so as to not result in his car being towed. You nod, thanking him and giving him a quick hug, before turning to Jooheon.
 Lifting Changkyunâs car key menacingly, you glare. âDonât you dare use this as an excuse to see me and come with him and pick the car up, got it? I appreciate your concern and Iâll accept it this timeâbut Iâm not happy about it.â
 And before he can answer, you gather your things and turn on your heel, heading away. You hear Jooheon let out an audible laugh as he watches your retreating figure. He smiles, watching you leave, and waits until youâre out of earshot before turning to Changkyun.
 âHigh school friends, huh? What a coincidence.â
 âThatâs the girl youâve been bugging me about?â Changkyun crosses his arms, frowning. âIf so, I donât think coincidence even begins to cover it.â
 Jooheon tilts his head to the side, curious.
 âSheâs the one, right? The failed contract you mentioned?â Changkyun prompts, before letting out a bitter chuckle as Jooheon nods. He shakes his head, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. âHa⊠I canât even be surprised, with the divorce and allâŠâ
 âDivorce?â Jooheon echoes.
 Changkyun frowns. âMy statement that she dodged earlier. Why sheâs back here⊠her parents are getting a divorce. Long time coming, honestly, and she probably got dragged back into it. Thereâs⊠a lot in that household thatâs worth escaping, to be honest. Which makes sense why she sought you out.â
 âIf it makes so much sense, then whyâd the contract fail?â
 âDo you really not know?â Changkyun wonders, quirking an eyebrow as he levels his gaze with Jooheonâs.
 âIâm not here to play guessing games, Changkyun,â Jooheon mutters. âIt just happened to be convenient that you showed up to see who I was referring to, and coincidence that you know her and we were on the same flight. But Iâve been venting all this to you for the past few months because Iâm at an utter loss as to why the contract would have failed. Iâm not all-knowing, despite what people may think. Now that youâve seen her, Iâm assuming you have an answer. So, spill.â
 Changkyun smirks, stepping forward to place a hand on Jooheonâs shoulder. âMy Lordship⊠that girl is your soulmate.â
 Soulmate.
 Before the word even processes, Jooheon is scoffing, to which Changkyun tsks.
 âYou were human at one point, too. We all have one. Even you, the King of Hell,â Changkyun chastises. âIâm guessing you probably canât see it, or you wouldâve caught on much soonerâbut her aura, it reads totally differently when sheâs next to you in comparison to when she was walking away. Itâs quite interesting to see this in person, Iâve only ever heard of it happening a few times through sources.â
 Jooheon frowns, studying Changkyunâs face for any sign of a lie. Soulmate. Another person with which one had a natural affinity and deeper connection toward. The connection was often instantaneous and naturalâand strong enough that one would feel themselves drawn to that other person in every single way while simultaneously bringing about a sense of peace and calm. Jooheon wanted to scoff again. It wasnât that he didnât believe in them. Heâd seen the magic at work for others. But, for himself?
 And yet, so many things made sense. His anxiety eased when near you. The entire plane trip, everything had been calm. A sort of calm heâd never experienced before. Just as much as things had been calm, though, every touch had set ablaze his nerve endings. He hadnât experienced such a nervousness in someone elseâs presence in years.
 What an ironic twist of fate this had to beâthe universe was definitely playing games with him, now. He was well aware heâd pissed off many higher powers over the years⊠but to do this to him? Send him his own soulmate, on a silver platter, begging to make a contract with the Devil? Begging for release? Begging to forget?
 To forgetâŠ
 Jooheon blinks, realization dawning on himâthe migraines youâd mentioned. He lets out an audible groan, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Of course that would be a side effect. While he had never had a contract fail in the past, unless a soul really wasnât set on releaseâa broken contract could amount to many side effects, some more serious than others. In most cases, Jooheon had witnessed the failed cases simply go insane. But since your request had been so definite and simple, it made sense that it would backfire with a physical manifestation like this.
 Thatâs why she doesnât remember me.
 âChangkyun, I need a drink,â Jooheon mutters, brushing past both him and Hoseok. The two share a look, and Changkyun stares after Jooheon in confusion, before trailing after in a hurry.
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Youâve got my curiousity hooked... Do you perhaps... Have an info dump or little fun facts for some of your ocs? đ
.... I just drew 2 sketches of one of them tonight LMAO
Well idk how to explain this well??? Jeffree Ward is another character in the story with my poly OT3!
Jeffree is Luna's Fyuie ( Fyi - Ya) or well Guardian, Fyuie's are the dead and basically a walking spirit brought back to life once again. Fyuie's provide wisdom and support to the person they are bounded to, typically found though platonic soulmates. (Strictly no romance cause those already exist this is the platonic verison aka your life long bestie). Typically people don't get a Fyuie if they aren't experiencing extreme hardships and or their Fyuie is well- dead already.
Typically you can tell whos a Fyuie by markings on them (where they died) or by the ears just being more elf like to put it short.
Jeffree is basically Lunas best friend, he helps support and protect Luna when no one really can. Though Jeffree does have to deal with his own personal issues from his past but tries to ignore it so he could be more helpful for Luna. (Yeah this doesnt last long he gets bonked for that)
Jeffree is basically the optimistic one in the duo, wanting Luna to be happy and not wither away due to the war and just enjoy life no matter how shit it is at times. After all he knows how that went for him in his past life.
Anywhooooo I love this idot have one of the sketches of him trying to get lunas attention-
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T and G rated fics I read this weekend!
This is all The Untamed/MDZS fics.
So I learned last week that I can only add 100 links. And I read over 100 fics đŹ so now this is gonna be two posts. Additionally, Iâll likely start posting these daily from now on. It just gets to be a lot.
Finished:
Tumblr Fics:
BEETOBER 2021 DAY 2 - EARRING, by @bloody-bee-tea
Rated T:
find a home in him, by makebelieveanything and nerdzeword
âCome on a-Cheng, letâs go,â she prodded, gently ushering him out the door as she handed off jackets to both boys.
âWhy the fuck is he always doing stupid shit and making us run after him for?â Jiang Cheng complained as he shrugged into his jacket, Lan Wangji donning his own in silence.
âWangji?â Yanli prodded gently. âAre you alright?â
â... what if we never find him?â
âWe will,â Yanli said confidently.
or Modern AU where Wei Wuxian runs away from his foster home when he turns 18, and it doesn't end the way he planned.
My Brother's Keeper - Purple Years (The first stage of grief), by ArchiveWriter
Set after WWX plunges from the cliff after the battle at Nightless City. The ramblings of Jiang Cheng's mind in the first stage of grief, flicking back and forth between the past and then.
thank you, drunk me, by carmiemaybe (glazedlilies)
Or where Lan Zhan is confused at Wei Ying's behaviour after the previous, drunken night's events.
This Grave Will Not Be Mine, by Rana Eros (ranalore)
The Burial Mounds' claim to Wei Wuxian has been superceded.
Qinghe Jue, by Merinnan
Nie Mingjue promised to protect his brother. He wasn't going to let qi deviating and dying at Jinlintai stop him from keeping that promise.
With What Proof, by Preludian_Staves
"I know he did it!"
"What proof do you have?"
Meeting the Family, by sami (part of a series)
Wei Wuxian has a secret.
Iâll stick to my single-log bridge till itâs dark, by autumncolour
Canât anyone give me a nice, favorable road to walk on?
Lan Wangji leaves the Burial Mounds. Wei Wuxian gets drunk. The night in Yiling is clear and dark, and full of thick, half-understood longing.
Love Me on the Sunlit Grass, by Eliza (second in a series)
Zizhen will always be there when Jin Ling calls in a panic about his uncle.
the mutability of survival, by tunnelOFdawn
All the ways Lan Zhan, Wei Ying, and Jiang Cheng could have died in canon.
i'll keep walking, by justdoityoufucker
Wen Qing died.
This, she knows; from the painful lick of flames to the unavoidable choking that came with the smoke to the wickedly satisfied grin on Jin Guangshanâs face before she closed her eyes the last time. She hoped, those last few moments, that it would be the end. Wei Wuxian would be free, and the last remnants of their family would be safe. She hoped that Wen Ning wouldnât feel any pain, when the time came for him to follow her.
-
Or, the one where Wen Qing ends up in the past and fixes the future.
Rated G:
ć€©æ¶Żäčć€ / beyond the world's end, by yuer (vintageblueskies)
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says, his voice cracks open in a way Wei Wuxian has never heard before. He crosses over to where Wei Wuxian is still sitting; Wei Wuxian starts to scramble up, but Lan Wangji just shakes his head, gets to his knees next to him. And isn't that something? The untouchable Hanguang-jun on his knees in the Burial Mounds, dirtying his pristine robes to sit next to Wei Wuxian.
-
or, lan wangji returns to the burial mounds
Song of My Heart, Mate of My Soul, by SakuraKage
The Gusu Lan are said to have an innate connection with music. The Gusu Lan are also said to love deeply â with their whole soul â so deeply that they seem to only be able to fall in love once.
Lan Wangji knows these rumours. He also knows the truth, or close to it, as it has been handed down through the generations. Their connection to music runs far deeper than the other sects could dream. Every Lan heart contains a song, a musical piece that encapsulates the very fiber of their being, and it only comes to life under a specific set of circumstances. The parameters to unlock your heartsong are highly disputed, but the generally accepted condition to fill is ⊠to meet your soulmate.
see your face, hear my voice in the dark, by arypls
Wei Wuxian is having trouble falling asleep but Lan Wangji is there with gentle words and soothing touches to show his husband he's no longer alone.
If I knew what safety looked like, by askanis
Beautiful, brave Wei Ying is waiting for Lan Zhan to tell her she cannot be all of who she is. She will listen, if Lan Zhan says this. If Lan Zhan even looks uncomfortable, Wei Ying will take this back and never mention it again. Will pretend that this is not her truth, perhaps until she believes it herself.
And Lan Zhan will never get to fully see Wei Ying for who Wei Ying is.
underneath the magnolias, by krizzlesandblues
Summer in Cloud Recesses means iced fruits sent by merchants, more practical trainings for juniors, with some of them catching up on their lessons.
But for the youngest members of GusuLan Sect, summer means classes under the big magnolia tree.
Word Up, Talk the Talk, by Larryissocute
It wouldnât have been a problem (it really wouldnât) if they werenât best friends. Wei Wuxian doesnât know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.
Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.
Hai Shi â Sleeping Hours, by Saint Er (wwxsays_er)
It's right before bedtime, when a drunk Wei Wuxian shows up on Lan Wangji's door, and suddenly, this has now become Lan Wangji's problem.
In the Silence, by XianleDianxia
With his husband and son on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian is left to his own thoughts. His temperament is not as calm as Lan Wangji would like it to be.
intervention (how to convince your very gay brother that he, is in fact, gay), by okok29
"You guys hold hands all the time around campus and he takes you out to brunch every Saturday. He even brings you roses," Jiang Cheng emphasizes.
"Yeah, as bros do!" Wei Ying says cheerfully.
jiang cheng tries to forcibly drag wei ying out of the closet.
No Regrets, by Sarehz
Lan Zhan gives his forehead ribbon to Wei Wuxian as a sign of his love.
Look Down to Reminisce About My Hometown, by Nadat (one-shot series)
A collection of short stories following a Promptember list; will add tags and alter the rating as appropriate. It will be mostly live action show canon but I may borrow here and there from the book if something strikes me.
jin ling's uncles and aunts, by saheeli
jin zixuan invites all of jin ling's uncles and aunts to his birthday party. there are more than he even thought possible.
Helianthus, by tinykira
"Say, Lan Zhan. Do you know that when people die, they become plants?"
~
The Jingshi, which was formerly called as The Gentian House, is now also full of sunflowers.
Magical Marriage Ribbons, by starandrea
But consider this: the Lan forehead ribbons are magical, and the mountain knows it. (It takes Wei Ying less than a day after Lan Yiâs cave to realize more than just her wards consider him family.)
Or: If youâre accidentally betrothed to your classmate in a mostly legitimate life or death situation, how long can you wait to tell him before he finds out by accident?
their mothers sons, by silversshadow
In one world Jiang Fengmian gave Wei Ying more attention than he did either of his own children. In this world he can barely look at the child.
A series of short looks into a different timeline.
You blow me away, by silverclaw
Lan Zhanâs neighbour is playing a song that has been stuck in his head for ages. The neighbour just so happens to be the singer of said song and heâs supposedly laying low.
Echo Of My Heart, by ColdBloodedReptile
A short insight of Lan Wangji's thoughts during Dafan Mountain, CQL version.
And the scene in Jingshi before Wei Wuxian wakes ft Lan Sizhui.
A new score, by Lhaewiel
Wei Wuxian does not know this new score. It is evening, Gusu looks like a painting during this time of the year, with snow slowly falling down and covering the court outside.
Parallel Lines, by Sarehz
Wei Ying: Lan Zhan is going to break up with me!
Nie Huaisang: No, he's not. But please tell me in great detail why you think that.
Jiang Cheng: [Unfortunately sharing an apartment with Nie Huaisang and therefore has no choice but to listen] Please leave me out of this.
Why Wei Ying Shouldnât Matchmake, by PrinceJakeFireCake
Lan Wangji is NOT jealous of Jiang Cheng. Heâs just trying to figure out why Wei Ying likes him so much. Wei Ying thinks itâs great that Lan Zhan has a crush on his brother. (Hint: he does not)
to home, by Guinny (4 chapters)
'My Wei Ying,
It seems that we are winning the war. Wait for me. I will come home. I will come home to you. We will spend the rest of our lives in peace. Far from all of this. In a place that is quiet and there's only us.
Yours,
Lan Zhan.â
if you love him, never let go, by cloud_wanderer
three times lan wangji let go, and the one time he swore to never do it again
Hard to forget, by Lucky_Moonly
âAiya sorry for interrupting what must be a very interesting read,â a boy who seemed to be a first year as well, cheekily exclaimed, before he smiled widely at Lan Wangji and he stepped inside the compartment. âBut did you perchance see my pet axolotl? Heâs black and heâs missing one of his front legs!â
in sickness & in flames, by talesfromthecryptid (2 chapters)
the one in which lan wangji has a cold and wei wuxian fusses over him and falls even more in love with him, something he didn't even know was possible but oh, it really is.
learning and the dead, by northofallmusic (tofsla)
In a small house of his own, after everything, Wen Ning works with his hands.
Unpredictable, by canis_m
If Lan Wangji had said a few more things while drunk in Qinghe.
Waited For Precious Moments Such As This, by Preludian_Staves
He would not trade these precious moments away for anything in the world.
Unfinished:
Rated T:
No Regrets, by AluraRose
Lan Wangji took a deep breath, centered himself, and swallowed his pride.
âI apologize.â He bowed low to Jiang Wanyin and held it. âI wish only to help your brother. I humbly request access, and give my word that I will touch nothing and speak to no one of what I see.â
âI canât just let you in there!â
âEven to save Wei Ying?â
And suddenly the wind seemed to go out of the sails of Jiang Wanyinâs anger. âI canâtâ he repeated more quietly.
In order to save Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji must first convince Jiang Wanyin to trust him.
Your Name On My Chest, by Director_XuanWu
Lan Wangji is the president, at the beginning of his second year on his first term.
Wei Wuxian, his ex fiancé, was dishonorably discharged from the military because of a well hidden scandal.
They meet again after 13 years. Lan Wangji will drop everything for him. Wei Wuxian will sacrifice himself for him again. What does it take to finally be together? Too many goodbyes, too many heartaches. Yet they conquer all.
Whatever it takes, by Moonlit_dewdrops
Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian are sent back to the past. This time, they can save everyone they love. They can make the right choices. They can learn to trust one another. However, everything comes with a price.
underneath your skin, by tardigradeschool
Wei Wuxian falls into the Burial Mounds. His body walks out.
White Flames in a Red Sky, by ZipZapZop
Maybe it hadnât been a good idea to run away in the middle of a snowstorm.
OR
Wei Wuxian needs help, but he canât understand that for the life of him.
and so it goes, by doyeorem (pomellogranate)
"While a person is dead in one particular moment, they are still alive and well in all of the other moments of their life, because all of time exists at once."
-
In which Hanguang-jun is at Qiongqi Path, and instead of Jin Zixuan's death, he witnesses Wei Ying throw himself in the way of a punch from the Ghost General, and three swords - one of which is Bichen.
The Burial Mounds is enraged and offended, and many suffer for it.
Purgatory Divinity, by sinfulempire
"Your third and final mission is to rewrite history, Wei Wuxian."
In which Wei Wuxian, the son of the Heavenly Demon Empress, Cangse Sanren and the Celestial, Wei Changze has to rewrite history in order to prove himself worthy of the throne, however, this was a mission that he did not sign himself up for.
[WARNING!! WARNING!! System error, system erro-]
"What-"
Upon accepting the mission, Wei Wuxian found himself back in the past. He had returned to his 6 year old body accompanied by the system at the dingy streets of Yiling- far before Jiang Fengmian had found him and took him in.
Wei Wuxian was alone and surrounded by numerous hound dogs.
Rated G:
Coil Tightly, by Thunderstruck (Blueyed_Impala)
When Wei Wuxian stumbles across a shady pet store in the back alley of his new town he ends up leaving with a companion for life, and more than he bargained for.
Forced apologies, by Io_Palladium
Jiang Cheng confronts Lan Zhan after Wei Yings punishment and it changes everything.
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A Lifetime of Love
Day 5 - Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.
Logicality
Wordcount: 4524
TW: Mentions of death emotionally affecting characters.
Summary: Logan has felt his soulmateâs love nearly all his life. He just didnât realize it until that love turned into heartbreak.
Archive Link
Tumblr Masterpost
taglist: @tsshipmonth2020
Why does Loganâs soulmate feel so much?
It was a near constant struggle for him as he had to deal with strong waves of intense ups and downs. He would almost use the idiom âextraâ to describe it. The whole ordeal was borderline debilitating Loganâs ability to keep his focus.
He could not see a reason that anyone needed to feel so strongly.
Logan took a deep breath to try and calm a racing heart that was out of his control and pushed his coffee away with a frown. This menace needed to be stopped. How could he work like this? How could he attend to his patients?
He felt the cardiac quickening still and groaned. If it did not slow soon he was figuratively certain that someone would need to call a crash cart.
Maybe literally certain.
It was too be seen.
âHey doc!â A cheery voice said to his left just as he heard the telling âclunkâ of a plastic tray hitting the table to reveal a face he recognized.
Scrubs. Curls. Light hair. Bracelets. Alto. Freckles. Vanilla. Smiles. Soft.
Friend.
Patton.
Nurse Patton. His mind reminded him as it instantly cycled through the immediate sensory details he most associated with his table mate.
Patton was a near constant source of smiles and warmth to those around him. He was a favorite among patients who would often come in even after their recovery to deliver tokens of appreciation and occasionally gifts that were more intimate. Logan could remember a particular nuisance who was overly forthcoming with their affections, to the point that Patton sometimes appeared uncomfortable. Sometimes Logan felt uncomfortable too just seeing the displays. The ward nearly had to dispose of a ridiculous number of roses when the man thought he was being romantic with a display that engulfed their waiting room in the flowers. It was a nuisance for the staff to deal with and potentially endangered the lives of anyone who needed life-saving emergency services at that moment, or anyone who was simply allergic to roses. Thankfully no one was harmed in the end. Instead, Patton showed his quiet brilliance when instead of tossing them all, he suggested instead to divvy them out to the hospital rooms to cheer up the patients. Many people expressed gratitude for the gesture and were generally more open to the medical suggestion of the hospitalâs professionals. Though, Patton insisted he simply wanted to make people smile. Logan agreed that was probably the case.
Despite all of the good it did, Logan was not the least bit sorry to see that particular suitor leave.
âDoc? You okay?â the cheery voice asked and Logan blinked.
He had been been swept up in his thoughts.
âMy demeanor and functioning is slightly less than satisfactory today,â Logan replied.
He didnât quite understand the strange way Patton quirked his lips into a half smile, but Logan did understand that the small snort that Patton made was somehow at his expense.
âFeel like sharing with the class?â Patton asked, tilting his head to the side just so, the way he always did when he was really paying attention to what was being said.
âI do not believe that sharing my turmoil during my afternoon lecture would be appropriate.â
Patton snorted again and Logan found he didnât mind when his shoulders shook with near-silent giggles. Even if it was at his expense.
Even on days when his soulmate bothered him with needless intense emotions, Patton always seemed to assuage the pesky feelings and replace them somehow as a bubble of joy settled into his chest that Logan was certain was all his own.
âI meant it as a turn of phrase doc,â Patton said with a toothy smile that Logan understood from experience was a show of his amusement. âWhatâs got you down?â
Logan squinted at Patton, trying to decide how best to approach the topic. The media always portrayed soulmates as endlessly beautiful, wonderful things and Logan just found the whole thing... absurd. However, he was not at all certain how Patton felt about the subject. He was an inherently emotional being, it was part of what made him such an effective nurse, being able to connect and empathize with the patients. However, it was also his downfall as Logan watched every failure... every death affect Patton on a personal level. Logan has held his friend many of times, exhausted and sobbing during the night shifts as another patient died in his hands. The empathetic nurse always handled losing children the worst.
Surely someone as emotionally driven as Patton would subscribe to the popular opinion of soulmates, would he not?
Logan was uncertain.
âI have found myself fatigued recently by my soulmateâs emotional turmoil,â Logan replied finally.
Many would consider such an admission blasphemy. Even if he was unsure of Pattonâs feelings on the matter he was certain to find out now. Additionally... he trusted Patton to understand his intentions.
The nurse was perplexingly astute at understanding intentions.
Pattonâs eyes were instantly blown wide as he sat up straight and pulled further away from Loganâs immediate personal bubble.
Maybe he would not understand after all.
Logan felt a pang of... something. He was not certain it was his own emotion, but the immediate disappointment running through his veins was palpable.
âItâs... it canât be that bad can it?â Patton asked, with a small laugh with twiddling fingers that for Patton, signaled nervousness rather than the joy usually associated with laughter.
âI do not believe there is anything inherently wrong with them experiencing emotions,â Logan corrected, uncertain if emotions can even really be considered âbad.â He prescribed more to the ideology that it was a personâs actions that defined them, rather than their internal monologue. âIt is just that I have found myself distracted by both the strength and range of emotions they have recently imparted onto me. It can be... difficult to concentrate with the physical symptoms that some of the emotions cause.â
âMmmm,â Patton hummed in reply as an audible agreement. âTell me about it.â
Patton moved slightly closer again, back to his position from before and placed his chin in his hand with the half-lidded gaze that meant he was considering the topic deeply. While he appreciated the thought Patton was putting into forming a response, Logan was more relieved that Patton had not abnegated their friendship the way he initially feared.
âHave you experienced anything similar with your soulmate?â
Fear, no... hesitation seemed to work its way into Pattonâs expression as he met Loganâs eyes from underneath his lashes. The pair stared for several seconds, both doing their best to read the other. It was sometimes a struggle, Logan knew. He often found emotions difficult to understand, like a language he was inarticulate in. Reading Patton was... admittedly easier than most. The two spent so much time together that Logan had learned to understand many of his emotional signals, what small gestures and certain tones meant.
Logan would never admit it out loud, but his understanding of Pattonâs expressions was so prevalent that he had started internally matching other peopleâs emotional reactions to his curly haired friendâs. It honestly helped his navigation of the unfamiliar territory.
Logan swore he could hear an ambulance siren alarming in his head when Patton looked away and murmured, âSometimes they get angry.â while clutching his chest, just over his heart.
At first, he was uncertain how he should respond. Logan found himself experiencing an irrational desire to build walls around Patton. To create a space for him that he could curate and fill with all of the things that brought his friend joy, to protect him from such ugly emotions and particularly protect him from such an undeserving soulmate. Logan was certain that someone as patient and good as Patton deserved to feel nothing but emotions that were as equivalently kind and soft as he was.
Logan knew such a feat was impossible though. Patton would never realistically be happy in such a state. He loved the world, no matter how barbarous and unkind it could be. Patton strived to make it a more benevolent place and his presance alone made his goal a continually successful one.
Logan found himself reaching for Pattonâs hand unthinkingly, a mimicry of a gesture Logan had seen the curly haired man used to console his patients.
âAre you safe?â He asked in a low, murmur. He was uncertain who Pattonâs soulmate was, or where they might be, but he had to be certain that his friend was in no danger. Logan was more than willing to act as a metaphorical shield to help him reach safety should the man require it.
A literal one too.
Patton was giggling at his expense again.
It was an unexpected and yet somehow favorable outcome of the conversation.
Only when it was him though.
âDonât worry, itâs nothing so dramatic. No danger on my end, I live alone. No partner or anything. Not even a house cat.â Patton admitted, and patted the hand Logan offered him. It seemed to be some sort of consolation for his efforts. âI just worry about them sometimes, ya know?â
Well... no he did not.
He had not even considered applying concern to the disembodied entity that plagued him with unwarranted emotions. Instead, his immediate reaction had been mainly ire. Logan was diligent with his work and often took on additional duties at the hospital while maintaining several personal projects. Loganâs main focus had been on how his soulmateâs emotions had interfered in his ability to effectively complete everything he intended.
Perhaps that was the wrong perspective to take.
Logan had not even contemplated why the person he was spiritually bound to was feeling the things they did before that point. Patton truly was remarkably astute in many ways that were out of Loganâs reach. His friend always seemed to find a perspective on things that he did not initially entertain. It was quite an admirable quality.
A soft beeping noise interrupted Loganâs thought process as the pair both immediately checked their pagers.
âWell, thatâs my cue I guess,â Patton said and cast his uneaten meal a longing gaze as he pushed himself up from his seat. Patton gently hip-bumped Loganâs side affectionately before taking his tray to the disposal and dumping the various items into the most appropriate containers.
That would not do.
Logan and Pattonâs occupations were both difficult enough when they were working at their best. Patton did not need the strain of a missed meal impairing his professional ability and physical condition. Logan mentally added the task of procuring Patton a meal to his mental to-do list. Something that could be consumed without inhibiting his duties. Perhaps a smoothie that could be kept at the nurses station?
Loganâs eyes wandered to the nearest wall clock as he considered his options, but realized that he too needed to be on his way. He barely had time to retrieve his annotated materials before the lecture that was meant to present in less than a quarter hour. He rose without hesitation and took long strides to quicken his pace as he headed toward his office.
â-in conclusion, this medication, though still in the experimental phase is predicted to decrease the symptoms of both conventional insomnia, that a great proportion of adults suffer from, but also lessen the affects of fatal familial insomnia. Though the condition may be rare, before now modern science has had very little to be able to treat the disorder with effectively. If testing goes as predicted, we will finally be able to offer those suffering it a small respite from their symptoms.â
Logan completed his lecture and clicked the universal remote in his hand a final time to turn off the smart board that displayed his power-point and reignite the roomâs lights in turn. Logan let himself smile in appreciation as the roomâs occupants clapped a bit more enthusiastically than what would be qualified as simple politeness. They truly seemed to be enthused by his work and Logan was relieved to not be the only one.
âQuestions?â Logan asked as the room began to quiet down and immediately several hands shot up.
However, Loganâs eyes widened slightly as he felt something bubbling in his chest. It was something foreign, something that did not belong to him.
Oh no.
A desperate laugh exploded out of mouth without his permission as the entire room looked on with bewilderment. Logan doubled over as several more hysterical laughs followed. He tried to repress it, to force himself to stop, but he could not quite hold back the near spastic convulsions as grating shrieks escaped his throat.
When it finally subsided, he took several deep breaths to try and regain his bearing. Instantly he stood straight with squared shoulders, trying to recover the serious atmosphere he had previously conducted with. One glance at his audience however proved that it would be of no use, they were all grinning at him with twinkling eyes. Some had shaking shoulders, others hid their mouths behind cupped palms and they were all laughing at him.
They were all laughing at him.
âExcuse my behavior,â Logan said and swallowed hard as his gaze drifted to the floor. âIt seems my soulmate has suddenly found something immensely amusing.â
There were a few sniggers and guffaws that that response, though most tried to politely stifle their snickering.
They were all laughing at him.
âI believe I need to extract myself while they resettle, so I will conclude this lecture here. Please direct any of your unanswered inquiries to my email and I will respond at a later time.â
From there, Logan simply walked out without a glance in his audienceâs direction or even parting word. His gaze stayed mainly trained on the wheel-worn tile as his feet automatically guided him on the route he knew so well, leading him straight to his personal office within the facility. He quickly slipped in and tucked the door closed behind him.
Then his clipboard was immediately flung across the room as he banged his back against the heavy wood of his door. He wanted to break something. He wanted some kind of physical stimulation that matched the fire burning inside of him. Loganâs mind flew through the images of himself turning over his office, leaving ripped papers, knocked over bookshelves, and even a broken desk chair in his wake to express the frustration that was entirely his own. However, he stopped himself, allowing his forearm to instead hit the solid wooden door only once.
The sting helped.
Then, all at once, his own wave of emotion subsided. He felt heavy and shaky at the knees. Logan leaned his weight more fully on the door for support as he slumped against it. He needed a moment.
Emotions were exhausting.
He was not certain how long he stayed against the door, seconds most likely, but it felt much longer. Logan was not truly ready to move, but he suddenly heard the faintest dripping noise and it consumed all of his attention as if there was nothing more important.
Oh.
He was crying.
Or more accurately his soulmate was, but he couldnât fathom why.
They had just been so joyous mere moments ago. Unless-
Unless....
Was it possible they were crying because they felt his own lividity?
Logan tried wiping the tears away with a disposable tissue from the box on his desk. It proved to be a useless endeavor however as the tears refused to stop. He felt the full weight of grief expanding uncomfortably in his chest, putting pressure onto his lungs. He found he could only drag in short breaths that were barely sustainable for his respiratory system. He needed-
He needed...
He needed Patton.
Patton would know what to do.
After dabbing his eyes with the tissue one last time he slipped out the door, taking the short walk to Pattonâs station. Logan kept his head down, hoping no one noticed the physical display of emotions that streamed down his cheeks.
When Logan made it to the counter of the nursesâ station, he relieved to see only Andy sitting at the ready, the only nurse who actually enjoyed working the night shift as far as Logan was aware. It was odd to see him on a Tuesday afternoon, but Logan would not complain about his fortune. Andy was unlikely to judge him. The young nurse barely had his feet in the door, but immediately took all of the oddity of medical professionalism in stride. He almost seemed to enjoy the full moons where the placebo effect drove in the results of all sorts of illogical and often insane behavior.
Andy glanced up and Logan the dark circles under his eyes looked more prominent somehow. He wordlessly pushed a box of tissues toward Logan.
The doctor ignored them.
âWhereâs Patton?â Logan asked in low voice. There was no need to draw unnecessary attention.
Andy stared back blankly, but could not hide his eyes glancing down once instinctively.
Logan leaned over the desk and found all of the air rapidly leave his lungs as if someone had hit him in the stomach at full speed with a gurney.
There was Patton, scrunched up on the floor beneath the desk in the fetal position. His glasses were crooked on his forehead as he bawled into his knees with an endless stream of tears running down his cheeks.
The very same tears running down Loganâs own cheeks.
He did this.
Logan fell to his knees and reached for him. He had to stop it. He had to help. He had to... he didnât know what.
Something.
Logan attempted to place a hand on Pattonâs knee as gesture of comfort, but it was as if lightning had suddenly struck Patton with the way he had jumped, cracking his head against the back of the desk.
Logan winced. He was certain that did not help Pattonâs emotional state.
Patton gave Logan a miserable look as he tried shuffling away, curling further against the back of the desk that he was already leaned against as if Loganâs hand were some kind of predatory creature that was encroaching on his space.
Logan let his hand fall away.
Patton tucked his nose against his knees and stared up at Logan once again from beneath his lashes, but it was an expression that seemed eons away from mirth-filled nurse who had joined him jovially less than two hours before.
âI want...â Logan whispered, entwining his hands to stop himself from reaching for the soulmate who did not want to be touched, by him at least.
He wanted so many things in that moment. Forgiveness. Reassurance. Physical affection. Hope that the relationship could be salvaged. Patton.
He wanted Patton.
â...I want to apologize,â Logan said, pushing down all of those thoughts.
This was not about what he felt at the moment.
Then Logan caught sight of something that was not his to bear witness to.
In his mindâs eye he could see a child, chubby cheeks, unruly curls, and bright blue eyes behind round glasses that sat awkwardly because they were still the tiniest bit too large for such a young face. It was an image in a mirror. A figure sat behind the child in overalls as they worked a brush through the nearly blond hair that was yet to darken with age.
âRenny,â The child remarked, staring up at the adultâs reflection in the mirror. âHow muss do I gosta feels so dey feels it?â
âA whole lot, my sweet little Pattycake,â the adult said, swooping down to bestow the child a series of kisses on their face in quick succession.
The child let out a joyful squeal and the adult used the childâs distraction to loop on a hair tie to form one half of the hair-style colloquially known as pigtails. The child smiled and turned slightly to enable the adult access to the other side.
âI wanâ dem be happy,â the child audibly decided as the adult continued their work.
âWell then,â the adult remarked, as they carefully worked a knot with their fingers to minimize the childâs discomfort. âyou know what you gotta do right?â
âWhaâ?!â they asked in a gasp, as if in a state of absolute wonderment. âWhaâ I godda do?!â
âYou have to think of everything that makes you happy babydoll. Cookies, the afternoon sun, Mr. Ribbit who lives on your bed. You have to think of Mommy and Renny and how very very much we love you. You have to think of all the love thatâs given to you and all the love you have to share. Then, when you start to feel warm, all the way down in your toes, hold onto that feeling okay? If you do that, theyâll feel it. I promise you Pattycake.â
The scene began to fade away just as the adult secured the second pigtail. However, Logan caught a stolen glimpse at the child and adult sharing a hug that was too sweet to be meant for his eyes. Too sweet to be bearable.
Then in one swift move Patton sprung forward, pushing past Loganâs form that was still crouched down and took off in a sprint.
Away from Logan.
Patton has successfully avoided Logan for a full week.
It was the worst week Logan could ever remember experiencing. He felt miserable. Patton felt miserable. They both felt miserable. Before that week, Logan had not realized exactly what Patton had done for him nearly his whole life.
Patton constantly shared an immense amount of love with Logan through their bond.
Patton made Logan feel supported, confident, complete, all things he hadnât realized were even at stake until they were replaced with numbness. Nothing but a hollow pit that slowly ate away at his emotional state like an insatiable black hole. Other doctors took over many of his cases that week, assuming he was ill. He was even sent home early, twice.
There was virtually no sign of Patton. Even the few glimpses he managed to catch in his peripheral were short lived as he disappeared before Logan could even fully look his way. Each time left Loganâs chest aching. It was a shared feeling.
It did not help that Patton had the loyalty of the entire nursing staff and several doctors to help him in his endeavor to hide away. Logan even thought he saw the janitorial staff help him duck into a closet once.
However, when he questioned them on it, they unsurprisingly feigned ignorance.
Logan once thought he was well liked among the hospital staff, but nothing could have prepared him for how dearly loved that Patton was. Part of him was relieved that his soulmate had such a strong support system to defend him, to protect him. The other part of him was frustrated with his position as the one Patton was being protected from. They refused to give him a chance to apologize.
He needed to apologize.
He needed his friend back.
He needed to make things between them right again, to make them as they should be.
He needed to correct the situation so they could resume their relationship just as it was.
Or maybe even make it something potentially more.
He just needed the chance.
He needed to find a way to regain the comfort of Patton shooting him a reassuring smile across the hall whenever the stress of the job began to strain him because there was no sweeter balm to his strained nerves. Pattonâs absence has both physically and emotionally pushed him into a state of stress that he was unaware he could even reach. He found himself craving his soulmateâs sweet reassurances, reassurances that he never realized he could be without.
He needed to make Patton smile again.
He needed to see Patton smile.
He needed Patton to smile.
He needed Patton.
It was his total lack of progress in crossing paths with Patton at work that had Logan entering the nurseâs apartment building as he took the steps of the stairwells two at a time. He held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box of freshly baked muffins in the other, a treat he knew Patton favored. Logan was quick on his feet and ascended to the fifth floor easily. He moved down the hall that hadnât changed much since his last visit where he introduced Patton to some of his favorite podcasts while Patton taught him how to make shepherdâs pie.
Logan had visited the apartment several times before. However it felt... different somehow. He felt like he was an intrusive bacteria that was entering a foreign body, hurting it unwittingly. However, Logan internally reminded himself that he had no intention of causing his soulmate any further pain.
He just wanted to make things right.
Logan shifted his gifts into one arm and let his knuckles rapt against a white door three times in quick succession. Then he waited.
There was no answer.
Not one to give up easily, Logan simply repeated his actions.
There was still nothing.
He had intended to simply leave the gifts behind if this happened. He had intended to respect his space. However, the jittery feeling of stress dancing just beneath his skin found his hand reaching for the door handle in an invasion of privacy he had never intended to commit.
It was locked anyway.
Loganâs forehead slumped against the door.
â...I am sorry...â he whispered, probably to no one.
The flat was most likely unoccupied at the moment. It was illogical to stay, talking to an empty apartment.
Even foolish looking.
That did not stop him this time.
âPatton I... I did not know... I did not understand...I was an idiot.â
Still no response.
âPatton, when you entered my life, you quickly became one of the most important people in it before I even realized it happened. You bring so much elation into everything you do, you radiate joy as the sun radiates light. I feel blessed to even be able to orbit around your presance.â
Logan bit his bottom lip to ground himself before continuing.
âWhen I felt all of these new feelings from my soulmate I... I found myself frustrated with them. I thought.... Patton, I thought that it was not you.â
He swallowed.
âI wanted it to be you.â
There was something on the other side of the door. The faintest noise, like a breath or maybe a gasp? Logan closed his eyes, focusing on the advice the adult imparted in the memory that was not his own.
He focused on everything he knew, everything he felt, everything he wanted Patton to understand.
He only hoped that Patton could grasp it all.
Loganâs whole being felt overwhelmingly full of so so many emotions.
He finally wanted to know them all.
âI love you,â Logan found himself whispering to the unforgiving white door that separated him from everything he wanted.
That separated him from Patton.
There was a click as the door finally unlocked.
#tsshipmonth2020#sanders sides#logan sanders#ts logan#patton sanders#ts patton#logicality#hospital au#soulmates#logan is basically house#but like without the drugs#or just a regular doctor#you decide#Is it romantic?#Is it platonic?#who knows?#ts andy#makes an apperance#long post#fanfiction
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Questions about Sherlolly
I got tagged by @sherlollyandspoilers who apparently stole these questions from this post because they looked like fun :D I couldnât agree more, so here is my take on those questions:Â
1. Â Â Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?
Oh, I have a kind of neglected (for years! gulp) prompt for that one... I see this AU happening in Uni, with Molly being the barista ...and Sherlock, needing money, becomes her Intern lol. He, of course, was frequenting the coffee shop before, and being inept at flirting, antagonised Molly. Now, he has to not only win her heart by manage to convince her to let him keep the internship. :P
2. Â Â Highschool/College AU: Who is the straight-A student, and whoâs the backrow slacker?
Molly is the straight-A student. Sherlock is a genius who doesnât need to do any real work and still passes the classes, lazying around. It annoys Molly to no end. He isnât impressed with her teacherâs pet position at school either, but once they start working in lab together as partners, their opinions change and of course feelings blossom :P
3. Â Â Rivals to loves AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the otherâs buttons?
School rivalry of course, maybe some science project of sorts. Molly takes the rivalry seriously, because she is offended on the behalf of hardworkers, because once again Sherlock does nothing and comes up with superb results. Sherlock is amused by her offended face and finds it cute, hence he riles her.Â
4. Â Â Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?
oh, oh! This is going to be my Criminal!AU. Sherlock is the Consulting Criminal ...and Molly switches sides to his, becoming his Dark Queen. And then they rule the underworld ever since :P I wanna read this so bad!Â
5. Â Â Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?
Sherlock is wary of meeting his soulmate. Outwardly. Deep at heart, he yearns to meet her and not be lonely anymore. Molly is a helpless romantic by nature ...but doesnât believe in love anymore because of the angst her own parents experienced. So she isnât really looking for *anyone*. But once they meet, well, sparks fly, then there is some angst because Sherlock is tentatively hopeful, but Molly is categorically opposed. Sherlock is hurt, Molly is guilty and then they try to build first a friendship. Finally, they take the final step, rising it all, and have never been happier since. Â
6.   Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if theyâre both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love againâŠUntil they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)
...so I actually rather hate that trope. that being said, I can see two takes on it: 1) Sherlock is the âsingle parentâ of his ward (maybe Rosie because Watsons died tragically), he isnât interested in finding anyone (still suffering from the loss of his two best friends and people he loved most being gone), but Rosie decides she wants to have a second mum so she chooses Molly, her school teacher, and yes, they are instantly smitten, although they try not to be :P. or Molly ends up with a ward, maybe her nieces, and she suddenly needs to become a parent, and Sherlock, surprisingly, starts co-parenting with her, and the nieces (being too young at first) start consider them their parents and thatâs how they brought them together. 2) Molly is the single parent after a drunken one night stand at the end of uni. She doesnât know who the father is. Then during the Fall, Sherlock sees the child and is like, your son looks like me that age. And they compare notes and turns out Sherlock was that other drunken participant of the one night stand. I actually wrote this plot in one of my stories, lol.Â
7. Â Â Doctor AU: Which one is the longsuffering doctor? Which one is the patient?
Is this even AU, lol? Molly is the longsuffering doctor to Sherlock constant injuries from his cases. :P I can also see ...a smutty role play here lol but for AU, I think Molly is the doctor and Sherlock is the patient ...who comes up with tons of strange maladies in hopes to see his doctor, because the git doesnât know how to ask her out.Â
8. Â Â Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?
Sherlock is the bodyguard who is protecting Molly, and OF COURSE they are secretly pining for each other duh. lol. He is a self appointed bodyguard and Molly is not amused by this. But he will not take chances with her as she is suppose to testify against a serial killer, who turned out to be her best friend.Â
9. Â Â Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?
Sherlock is the Pirate, or privateer with the Crown behind him :P Molly is no princess though, she is his noble-born wife, who definitely didnât sign for this, alas turns out sheâs better then her husband. They tackle Moriarty who, under the Royal Navy, has agenda of his own against the Crown. Then they sail into the sunset lol
10. Â Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?
Sherlock has always been in love with Molly and vice versa. And they *both* are totally oblivious about the otherâs feelings. Mutual pining FTW. :P
I loved this so much! I would like to hear what others have to say about our beloved ship: @mizjoely @juldooz @elennemigo @xenalous @cumbercougars @mrsmcrieff @colonialfire24 @musicprincess1990 @rabbit-in-blue @readstoomuch also anyone else who wants to do it, feel free! the more the merrier :P
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