#man…i love the ocean so much she’s so scary and beautiful and full of so much life and death

[carsickcrow]

sighs dreamily thinking about the ocean… she’s so cool man…so beautiful and all-consuming and terrifying… i feel like an old sailor when i think about the ocean too much. i need to go to the beach right now i miss her

[raphaelol]

Lost Brother

notes: What if Kaveh's mother was Inazuman and had two instead of one son? And why were we never introduced to that son? Read to find out!

Have fun ;)

Words: 2319

TW!!

This story, like many stories, begins with two lovers. One of them was a traveling architect from Sumeru and the other a hobby artist from Inazuma. Both of them had sun kissed blonde hair and a shared love for old cities. While the architect’s eyes were blue colored, the artists eyes were of a carmine color. Before they fell in love, the artist left her homeland because she didn’t feel safe anymore in Inazuma… not with the war going on between Watazumi Island and the rest of her Homeland.  The things she had seen while traveling thru Inazuma’s Islands… the blood of the innocent’s, how beautiful red flowers bloomed over their corpses. Enchanted she drew them, the flowers, to memorize herself with their beauty born from bloodshed. She left a few days after she drew them, hiding in a ship full of a lyuen merchant’s goods. From Lyue harbor she walked the three-day path to Sumeru City by foot. There she meets a young gentleman with stunning blue eyes. At first, they didn’t get along well, but after some time they realized how much they had in common, fell in love and married a few years after. From their union came two lovely children. Their firstborn was named after the first electro Archon Makoto, a connection to his Inazuman roots, while the second-born son was named Kaveh, after the father of the architect. The firstborn son had inherited his father’s ocean blue eyes and his mother’s golden hair which, other the father’s hair, didn’t fade into brown at the tips. The name of said firstborn may be that of a female Archon, but the mother reassured him that, no matter what gender, her firstborn child will be named Makoto and that she hit her husband with one of his architecture books to get him to agreeing. Father told Makoto that his mother was really scary during pregnancy… which would be proved only a few months after Makoto’s eight birthday, when Mother was pregnant with her second child. And when little Kaveh was finally born, Makoto knew that he would protect this bundle of joy with his life. Mother would stay at home while father went to work and Makoto to the Accademia. Makoto went to Spantamad, to study the elements and potions. He also took a few lessons with the Armuta about medicine. Everything in their life went perfect, Makoto graduated from the Accademia at 18 and little Kaveh started the Accademia at the same time to follow father’s footsteps and become a great architect, when suddenly everything went downhill…

“You should take Makoto with you this time! It would be a great bonding experience and our son could learn much about the dessert!”

“Are you sure my love?” a skeptical look crossed the blonde mans face. His once ocean blue eyes held something hollow inside them. “Our son is not really Interested in my work…”

“Nonsense!” insisted mother. She knew that Makoto has no interest in architecture but she wants that her oldest and her husband spend more time together. After the disaster that was the Interdarshan Championship her husband separated himself more and more from his children and wife. “He has to go out of the house for a while. All this time staying in his room and brewing potions will make his brain go sluggish! Besides, when was the last time you took one of your children to the dessert? You were there with them so often when they were younger.”

Sighing father rubbed his forehead. “Alright I will take him with me.”

“Promise you come back?” asked, or rather demanded young Kaveh, his carmine eyes looking into that of an ocean blue pair.

“Of course, I be back little prince! I will always come back to tease you!” he looked so much like their mother at that time…

“You know I hate it when you’re calling me that.” Pouted Kaveh while Makoto ruffed ruffled his younger brother’s hair. Makoto smiled softly and reached into his own hair to get his hairclip out, a beautiful teal blue feather. “Close your eyes.” Said Makoto and with a last questioning look at his older brother, Kaveh closed his eyes and waited. With a practiced move, Makoto placed his feather in Kaveh’s hair securely, so that it wouldn’t fall out when moving his head. “Take good care of this one. It’s my favorite! Wouldn’t want it to get dirty with the desserts sand.” Said a smiling Makoto “I want it back as soon as I see you again.” Now Kaveh too was smiling and he hugged his older brother. What both of them didn’t know, was that it would be the last time they hugged each other in a very long time.

“DAD!”

“MAKOTO!”

“DON’T LET GO OF MY HAND!”

“I’m sorry…”

“NO! DAD!”

In the end both sunk into the quicksand.

Makoto felt nothing but panic as his mouth and lounges filled with sand. The feeling of suffocating… nothing could ever inflict this kind of pain into a human being…

And then nothing

Only darkness and no feelings anymore.

No pain, no panic, just darkness and peace…

I woke up, bound to a chair, infusions piercing my skin. I tried to gain understanding of what happened. Where was I? and where was “Dad?” I said throat hurting, probably from the sand that I swallowed. “The men you were brought with died months ago.” Said a voice next to me. There was a person, a male also bound to a chair, but without the infusions. I looked at him, it was dark but I could see him almost perfectly. Moths spend in a dark room brewing potions does that to you. His skin was pale from not being in the sun for probably a long time, his lips crusty and dry, his hair black with some, maybe blue? String in it. But the most eye-catching detail were the large ears atop of his head and the fluffy tail swaying lazily behind him. “Valuka Shuna?” the man tilted his head, ears going with the motion, one laying flat while the other stood to attention. “How do you know child?” he asked, amusement in his voice despite the position we were both in. “Where are we?” I decided to ask instead of answering his question. The man sighed “This is not the first time you asked this.”. at my confused look he decided to explain: “In the ten months you were here you awoke multiple times, always disoriented and asking questions but wouldn’t remember the conversation afterwards.” Now he laughed, it was a bitter laugh that send a shiver across my spine. “But don’t worry.” he smiled, not a nice smile “You will remember soon, they all remembered, but will you stay sane, or end up like the others?” he asked not a simmer of worry in his voice, but curiosity. Before I could ask another question, something was injected into my bloodstream, making me shiver in discuss and pain. So much pain… so, so, much.

I lost consciousness, probably not for the first or the last time.

I opened my eyes, seeing only white, blinding white lights.

There is a voice. “Sir no other experiments have lived after transplantation, should we really…” “Are you questioning me soldier?” said another voice, this one full of amusement and authority, different from the worried first voice. “No! Of course, not Il Dottore! It’s just…” “Then what is it?!” asked the second voice, the amusement vanished from his voice. “Nothing.” Answered the first voice. I couldn’t move any of my body parts, only my eyes, searching for the faces that matched the voices. “Let’s not delay we have to see if number 28’s organs are intact and ready to handle the transplantation.” Then came the pain. I screamed a silent scream inside my head. My body was cut open… My vision turned red and before the pain stopped, I heard the voice of the one called Dottore: “Sleep now 28 then the pain will stop… for a moment or two, hmm.” He was right, the pain stopped… for now.

I woke up screaming, but no sound came out, my throat still dry and hurting. “Don’t damage your throat more than it already is child.” Said the man next to me. A strange, pained whimper could be heard, echoing across the dark room. “You’re starting to remember, aren’t you?” he asked, but didn’t wait for a response and even if he did, I was not capable of speaking at the moment. “It will only get worse with time but once you remember everything it should get better…” he stopped for a moment, considering his next words. “The others died of shock, from experiencing the pain again and again, or they got insane, blabbering nonsense and killing themselves while trying to escape the infusions.” Another whimper, was I doing theses sounds? I tried making a sound again but it couldn’t. “The sound you’re making are subconical, you can’t recreate them whenever you want.” His voice gentle, different to the harsh and curios voice he had when we spoke the last time. “I believe in you child. Somehow I have a feeling that you are going to be different.” Those were the last words I heard before loosing the fight with the darkness.

Pain. So much pain. My scalp feels like it is ripped open, my back is icing and there is a hand in my hair. A hand in my hair? Someone is petting me. “Awake again I see 28.” Said the voice above me. Through the pain I could feel the hard tights of the man whose voice was speaking to me, whose hand was stroking my hair gently, easing the pain from my scalp. I leaned into the touch, despite knowing that this was the person who cut me open the last time I was awake. “Oh, I know you are hurting, but don’t worry! It is going to stop soon… after a bit of more pain.” He said and suddenly grabbed something atop of my head and pulled. “AAARRRGGGGHHHH!” I screamed. Oh, how much it hurts. It hurts, hurts hurts… so much pain! More than before… I could feel the blood dripping over my face, running down across my eyes, painting my vision red. Why was it so hot in here? The blood ran into my open mouth, making me taste the crimson liquid. “Stop squirming or I have to restrain you 28.” Said Dottore and let go of the thing he just pulled out of my scalp. “One last time and then you can go to sleep again!” he said and moved his hand to the left and pulled again. I sobbed. Tears mixed with blood and snort flowed down my face. MY screams echoing. He was laughing lightly. “You are wondering why you have to be awake during this?” he said as he adjusted his grip on the thing he was pulling. “So, I know when you have reached your limits! The first five subjects died while sedated during this process, so I now know what to avoid.” Finally, he let go and begin to massage around these things that he pulled out of my hair. “You know, your body accepted the transplantation quite well, maybe you will be the first to live through this.” The pain was still there when I grew unconscious. Finally, sleep. Beautiful, peaceful sleep.

“The name is Alejandro.” Said the voice of the man next to me. I noticed that the bindings were gone and he was stretching his back with a satisfying crack!

“Since when are you here?” I asked, my voice feeling better as if I had something to drink while asleep. “No idea kiddo. Maybe ten years or so? It is almost impossible to tell the time in this shit hole.” He said while scratching behind his ears. “Uh, finally! That stupid ich has been bordering me since forever!” Once he was done scratching his ears he moved to my chair and cut the binds with his surprisingly sharp nails. “Couldn’t you have gotten out of the binds earlier?” I asked confused. “Nah mine were out of metal, mor like handcuffs. Yours are cloth.” He surged and slowly took out the infusions. “They told me you wouldn’t need them anymore because your body accepted the change, so congratulation!” he said while taking the last needle out of my arm. “Who are They?” My voice small but clear in the room. “The Fatui of course!” said Alejandro with fake enthusiasm. “We are their lab rats. As far as I know I am here so they can take my DNA and create a formular of something and to transplant it into the test subjects. In your case child, you are the test subject. What ever they are trying to accomplish with turning you into a Valuka Shuna is beyond me- “, “What do you mean with turning me into a Valuka Shuna?!” I durned my head to look at him and felt a weight on top of my head, the same place Dottore pulled… “Look down child.” He said and I could see a sad grin taking over his face. As my eyes traveled south, I could make out how malnourished he was, the cloths hanging of his underweight body and when I finally locked down to where he pointed, my breath got stuck in my lungs. There unmistakable, a tail, growing out from over my butt. I fainted.

“Oh 28! Awake again I see!” Dottore’s voice, familiar but painful. Everything was loud. His breath, his heart… His heart? “Ah I see! It worked just perfect! Now the only thing left to do is to remove those, now useless human ears and then you will be as good as new!” Wait what?!

“Child? You, okay?” Another voice, a different one, I knew this one… Alejandro?

Should I do a part two??

[reds-skull]

Hi I’m the work anon from earlier

Wow your revenant fic was amazing! I’m so glad I got to read it from start to finish and watch as your story grew and took shape

I adored Soap and Gaz’s friendship but I also adored how Ghost trusted and was friends with him too especially when he asked him for advice! 😭 (there’s so little of their friendship the fandom and it sucks ) Price was best dad and deserves all the hugs (and cigars for dealing with his sons squad every day) Rudy and Alejandro (and the vaqueros) were adorable and had the 141 backs from the start, they were ready to throw down! Grave’s got what he deserved I hated him in this fic so much (great job) he was such a smug smarmy bastard until the end. Farah and Alex were so sweet they were like the favourite cousins that got roped into the family drama (I still want Fahra to BITE shepherd you know as a treat!) Laswell knows things and is scary she will happily help people reach the find out portion of their fucking around.

The reapers were so cool!!!! Especially with how they combined I was not expecting that, was legit shooketh (I now imagine limbo as a pitch black ocean full of burning stars (I also have a couple questions regarding it I would like to asked later please?)) Soap’s reaper was warm and kind Ghost’s was cold and clinical together they’re so much more?!?! Like it’s poetic there the best version of themselves together (like ghoap)

Speaking of ghoap they’re so in love it’s sickening all I could imagine during the vows was Price “listening in” and then getting Laswell to hand the boys a bloody wedding certificate so sweet 😭

Thank you for putting in the time and effort to create something so beautiful for so many people have a lovely day or night you deserve a break after all of that hard work!

And with all my admiration fuck you for making me cry (again)

Hello work anon! Hope it went easy haha

I feel like there's a few versions of Ghost headcannons floating out there, one is basically "the man believes he's broken beyond repair, he doesn't think he's human, all he does is focus on work" and the other is "yeah he went through really fucked up shit, but he holds himself together pretty well, and while it's hard for him to find someone he trusts, the people close to him are priceless."

I like both versions, but this time I went for the latter. I love love love Ghost and Gaz as friends (mw4 please give me them interacting), and you can see that in my comics as well lol.

I made Graves such a little bitch that everyone hates from the start lmao.

I didn't plan for Rudy and Ghost to interact that much if I'm honest, but because Soap wasn't the POV and I wanted to have the Vaqueros more prominently in the story (it does take place mostly in Las Almas after all), Rudy's initial reaction to Ghost's mask was the perfect opening for a deeper friendship.

Farah and Alex weren't too active, if I make a sequel, I think I'll make it focused on the situation in Urzikstan. Farah deserves to take her own revenge and get her happy ending...

I love your description of Limbo, especially because I mentioned in the fic that Ghost loves seeing the stars, because it's the first thing he saw after he was Reaped (and now Soap created stars for him in the void).

I'd love to hear your questions!

Ghost and Soap, like someone else commented, are practically married on all levels beside legal lmao. I never planned for them to be so fuckin' whipped for each other tbh, like the vows at the start were not planned at all. I just looked up Celtic wedding vows, and it was literally so perfect for them ("I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One./I give ye my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done."? Couldn't fit more to their story), I just had to add it.

Thank you for reading and commenting! I wish this break was voluntary, but my semester is ending in 3 weeks and I have many projects to finish, so I have to prioritize that for a while T_T

[taetaespeaches]

“I’m not asking for forever.”

namjoon x reader (oc) genre: angst; fluff/comfort word count: 2.9K

a/n: hi lovelies! This fic takes place right after “Is that drawer still available?” in which reader/Daisy decides to stop resisting her feelings for Joon. So they just had sex and she feels like she owes him an explanation for her past behavior. This is where we get a glimpse into Daisy’s previous relationship. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

Your labored breath had finally slowed as you relaxed against the body of the man who laid beside you, tangled in sheets, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. Inhaling the scent of him, exhaling the trepidation you previously felt in his presence, you finally felt free to care for Namjoon fully.

Dragging your finger over his abdomen and chest, you smiled at the way he twitched slightly when the touch of your fingertip tickled him. He was so gentle. Though he was curious about your past, he didn’t push you to talk about it. Your behavior over the course of your relationship with Namjoon warranted an explanation, he deserved a glimpse into the baggage that you were buried underneath. Yet, he seemed to simply accept that you had your reasons for being guarded, and he trusted you that they were real and valid.

A chuckle rumbled against his chest before emitting into the peaceful quiet that surrounded you both, pulling you from your thoughts and placing you back into the moment.

“That was,” he exhaled contentedly, “wow.”

Giggling at the comment, you pressed your face against his pectoral, placing a kiss to his warm skin. He was right. The sex with Namjoon had always been good, ever since the first night. But there was something about having each other without your inhibition and the uncertainty of a tomorrow, that made it very much wow.

“If I had known it would be that good, I would have filled that fucking drawer weeks ago,” you joked, Namjoon’s arm wrapping tighter around your body as he laughed in response.

The drawer. A symbol of your vacancy, and his willingness to hold a space for you in his life. It hung open across the room from you, empty of contents. Glaring at it, you felt your heart fill with guilt as your vision became blurry with tears.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered against Namjoon’s bare chest. Keeping your eyes on his honey-tinted skin, you felt the man tuck his chin into his neck as he looked down at you.

“Babe,” he started, only for you to shake your head. “You don’t need to-”

“Yes I do, Joon,” you insisted. “Just- let me be sorry.”

Quiet enveloped you and Namjoon while his hand soothed over your upper arm. Both of you were deep in thought, but he still didn’t pressure you to open up. You had toyed with his feelings, leading him on, holding back your feelings only to pull him closer and keep him with you selfishly. Perhaps it was his lack of pressing you to explain that had you opening your heart to him, letting him into the past that took you so long to heal from; that you were still healing from.

“Do you think love can exist without pain?” You asked Namjoon. He took a moment to think as he continued to soothe his hand over your arm.

“I think love is all encompassing,” he started thoughtfully, your full attention on him as he spoke. “Love welcomes vulnerability, and vulnerability opens you up to pain,” he replied. His heart really was like an ocean, so deep, so much to explore.

“Being vulnerable is scary,” you whispered against his chest, finally piquing the man’s full curiosity, or at least triggering him to show it to you.

“It is,” he agreed easily. “But it’s also beautiful. And I don’t think love is pain, to answer your question.” His fingers continued to brush along your tricep, and you appreciated the simple but assuring touch. Warmth filled your chest in response to his optimism in matters of the heart. Following the warmth was a rush of protectiveness, settling within you as a determination to ensure he would never associate pain with love the way you did.

“I wasn’t always so cynical,” you suddenly noted with a single humorless laugh, Namjoon’s hand stilling on your arm as he awaited your next words. “But I had this relationship and I- I just think it broke me a little bit.”

Sensing your nerves as you opened up to Namjoon, fully for the first time, he gently squeezed the muscle of your arm in his hand. “You can tell me about it,” he assured you. “If you want,” he added quickly. “Like, I want to know,” he tacked on, making you smile at his attempt to make you feel safe, and to ensure you knew that he wanted to know about you.

“You terrify me, you know that?” You admitted quietly, Namjoon humming as though he understood but was still interested in your explanation. “I thought I was so in love before but with you, it’s different. I’ve never felt the way I do for you with anyone else,” you told him, Namjoon responding with a simple swipe of his thumb against your skin. “And that’s terrifying because,” you sighed. “People are in and out of your life, and only you know the baggage they leave you with, and that’s all that’s left of them when they leave.”

Namjoon stayed silent as you spoke, allowing you the space and time needed to delve into your past. He knew it wasn’t easy for you to share these details with him, but he was grateful.

“Everything was so unstable, it was like one day I was his entire world and the next it was like loving me was a punishment,” you spoke quietly. “And maybe it’s my fault, maybe I wasn’t enough for him, maybe I really was hard to love.”

The man you rested against adamantly shook his head, using all his self control to not cut you off to negate your claim. Wanting to keep the space open for you to share, he stayed silent, but he was overcome with the disbelief that you could ever be hard to love.

“I think everyone has the capability to be complicated, you know, no one is simple, we all have these complexities,” you thought aloud. “But he made me feel genuinely difficult. To be around, to love, to navigate.”

Pondering over the relationship that left you so scared to be vulnerable, your eyes filled with tears. Despite moving past the man who left you feeling broken and small, those feelings persisted within you. He made you closed off to accepting love into your life, so afraid of having it and losing it. And even more so, scared of having it, and being made to feel like you were unworthy of it. And worst of all, like your love was toxic, unwanted, not enough.

“There wasn’t a big fallout, there was just so much distance. He just grew to dislike me and I resented him for it, and it was so dragged out,” you explained. “Even the few times when I tried to leave, he’d pull me back in.” Clearing your throat of the emotion lodged within it, you thought over how to phrase your thoughts. And Namjoon was so patient.

Your ex made you feel desperate for affection, as though he didn’t want you all, certainly not for life. And if he did truly see you, he didn’t like what he saw. But it didn’t start off that way. At the beginning, you believed it would last forever. Namjoon made you feel seen, desired, appreciated for all that you were. But if he changed his mind, you just knew you would never recover.

“It was like every day I sacrificed another piece of my heart, trying to fill him with the love I wanted in return, and he would just rip it out and discard it like it was nothing,” you scoffed, hating your own wording. But how do you describe a heartbreak that felt like pieces of your heart were torn off slowly over a period of two years? And how do you put it into words without sounding like you’re desperately trying to be poetic, as if there’s beauty to be found in such pain? You didn’t want to be poetic, you didn’t want to romanticize the experience. It fucking hurt. It was pain and insecurity and desperation, and there’s no beauty to be found in that.

“I just wanted to be known, just by one person. And I let him in but the more he knew the less he wanted me,” you said through a shaky voice. “And I just kept throwing myself at him, hoping that I would eventually be enough for him.”

You felt Namjoon’s body tense, and you were struck with more guilt. Because you offered your ex-boyfriend exactly what Namjoon had been trying to access. More of you.

Namjoon cleared his own throat as he prepared to speak, your ears perking at the sound. “You can’t give someone more of what they don’t appreciate, and hope it makes them want you,” Namjoon finally spoke, offering his words of wisdom.

“Maybe what I have to offer just isn’t good enough though,” you replied, rather pathetically. But Namjoon didn’t see it that way. He could never think of you as pathetic. The words did stab his heart, however, striking him with their brokenness. “Maybe I’m just too much, or I’m not enough.”

Namjoon’s hand once again ran along your arm comfortingly as he took in your words. “Do you really think that of yourself?” He asked thoughtfully, attempting to cover the pain in his tone, though you picked up on it anyway. And if you hadn’t picked up on it, you would have definitely felt the way his heart beat against his chest as he became more worked up and emotional about your past experiences.

“I don’t know. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I’m enough but- why did he make me feel so hard to love? It must have been me,” you whispered.  

“I think that’s bullshit,” he told you bluntly, his change in tone taking you by surprise as you swallowed nervously. “His inability to appreciate what you have to offer does not mean you’re not enough, it means he’s weak and pathetic. He’s an idiot, you’re not to blame for that.”

His tone had become angry and impassioned, as though he was hoping the words he spoke would somehow reach the guy who hurt you, and cut him down the way he cut you. Humming in response to him, he sighed, his tone instantly becoming more gentle once again.  

“Some people just want you,” he spoke, inserting his own desires into the conversation. “You’re not difficult because one person made you feel that way.” As silence filled the room as you both sat in the tension of the conversation, Namjoon eventually broke it, making his opinion blatant. “I want you,” he said sternly. “I want your all, your everything, no inhibitions, just you.”

Tears pricked your eyes the moment his words penetrated your ears, sinking into your heart and staying there like a small beacon of hope. Flattening your palm against his chest, you focused on the beat from within that pounded against his ribcage. His heart was so big and strong. But the confession from him was bittersweet. Because Namjoon wanted you, but for how long? Would you become too much for him? Not enough? How long would it take for him to grow to dislike you? You tried to push the thoughts aside, but you couldn’t bear the thought of having Namjoon and losing him.

“I’m scared too,” he admitted softly, making you look up to meet his eyes. “Suddenly, I’m looking at my past and wondering if I was ever really in love before because here you are, and this is special,” he confessed. “For the longest time, I thought, ‘when I meet that one special person, it’ll feel like the world shifted, like I’ll feel different from the day before’,” he smiled, your observant gaze on his as you hung onto his every word. “But it was fiction, you know, I wrote about it, explored the idea in my music, but it was just curiosity.”

The man took a deep breath as he stared at you, all the care within his massive heart evident in his eyes that appeared to only see you. “And then I met you,” he flashed a close-mouthed grin. “And I’m not the same as I was before that night. It’s exactly how I thought it would be, you know. It just- it feels like the universe moved for us to meet.”

Once again, your eyes became misty as you allowed the words he spoke to wash over you. They echoed so much of what you had been feeling. You had this persistent thought that perhaps you had been trying to find Namjoon in every lifetime before this one, like your souls were desperately searching for each other but always missing, being forced to wait for the next life to come.

But he was there finally. You were in his arms, in his bed, and he was telling you that you were enough, you were what he wanted. Would your souls know what to do now that they found each other? Would you be able to rest in the contentment that Namjoon provided? And would you be everything he had hoped you would be?

“I’m not asking for forever,” he told you, as though he could see into your mind and stopped the cynical thought that ‘maybe forever doesn’t exist’ before you could speak it into existence. “I’m just asking you to take it day by day with me.”

Allowing your eyes to scan his features appreciatively, you could see that he really wasn’t asking for forever. He would never make you promise that in a world full of such uncertainty. But why was it that when thinking of your future, Namjoon was there? He was there for your future job promotions, you were there for his many music awards to come. At the end of the aisle, it was him. He was there when the pregnancy test showed positive, and he was still there at your baby’s first birthday, and the next kid’s first birthday as well. You were together during your parents’ health scares, with a hand to hold and still with all that care in those gorgeous warm orbs. And when you turned the dreaded 40, he was there too, reminding you that you were still as hot as the day he met you.

As you thought of future scenarios, there wasn’t a single one you couldn’t picture him in. With Namjoon, you could see how day by day would easily string together until it became forever. Until you were spending a lifetime with him, and then again in the next life. And that’s when you realized that you finally got him, and you and your soul weren’t letting him get away. You refused to live without him any longer. Doubts in yourself, uncertainties of the future, it didn’t matter anymore. He was there. Finally.

But you couldn’t admit that yet. Not quite ready to tell him that whether he was asking for it or not, you saw forever with him. The revelation, however, made your next words all the more frightening to speak, but all the more relieving.

“I can do that,” you said simply.

Namjoon grinned at you, his body relaxing as his own relief visibly washed over him. Smiling in return, you climbed up the bed just enough so you could reach his lips, pressing the sweetest of kisses to his mouth.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he mumbled into the meeting, causing you to smile once more.

“You said day by day, right?” You asked, Namjoon nodding as his eyes searched your face, simply just to appreciate your features. “I’ll raise you one,” you smirked. “Week by week.”

Chuckling at you, he suddenly rolled on top of you, you giggling as your back met the mattress, your body positioned underneath him.

“As long as you’re here, I don’t care,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you much deeper than before.

As you allowed yourself to melt into the moment, you knew that the one thing you could promise him without a doubt was that you would be there. You couldn’t guarantee you’d be perfect or that you would always know what to say or do to comfort him, or that you would always be in a good mood, or even that you would be able to provide a life without pain. But you’d be there. For as long as he wanted you.

His hands feeling the sides of your body, his mouth greedy against your own as he made up for the missed kisses you never got in your previous lives separate from one another, you finally felt at peace. Like you could lose yourself in him.

Pulling away from your lips, he rested his forehead against your own, his eyes closed as he allowed himself a moment to appreciate your presence.

“It would be a privilege to get to love you,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over your own as he spoke. “And to be loved by you would be a gift.”

Threading your fingers into his hair as you tried to catch your breath from the pure weight of the words that he just laid upon you, you could feel your past lives all breathe a sigh of relief. Your soul was home, and your heart was safe.

[vt-scribbles]

lets do 3 and 7 for the most recent writer asks 👀

3: on a scale of 1-10 how much to enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?

Oh man, so like... it very much depends on two things. Our definition of 'romance,' and what story world I'm working on. I have two main worlds: The Harvester, and Olmia. [Olmia is my catch-all fantasy world where most of my characters live, full of elves, giants, anthro people big and small, dragons, etc.] Firstly, my definition of 'romance' in this case is: Characters openly being drawn to each other in a 'i want to be your life partner' sort of way, sometimes tinged with a bit of sexual tension. [In the case of TH, there IS no sex content so that doesn't apply. In Olmia, anything goes.]

If I'm working on TH... I only like Light-Shipping aspects. Characters being cute, chaste kisses, bonding through different life events, and then MAYBE now and then there's some flirting or a tiny little 'date'. But as for Romance being a driving force? Absolutely not. The plot is not moved forward by someone's romantic desires, usually. It happens maybe about 10% of the time. I'm not super interested in plots driven purely out of 'I want to get together with this person romantically.' I like it being mixed in with other man vs self or man vs nature sorta plots.

If I'm working in Olmia... I still prefer fantasy-driven plots and man vs nature sorta stuff, BUT I am much more loose with characters pursuing each other romantically, and that driving their actions. It helps that Olmia is full of different species that are not all asexual/null creatures like Gems.

---

7. tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

Okay so I think I've already talked about Topaz and Hema, so I'll bring up another favorite.

Meta.

She's big, stoic, tough, scary. She's the biggest gem in existence at a staggering max 280 ft tall. She's got massive neck-crushing bear fangs and a hammer that can level a skyscraper. And yet... She worries about holding people too roughly. She likes telling stories, and sharing quiet evenings stargazing. You find out she likes puns, and that she's got a big-sister soft spot for most of her other batchmates. Meta is so quiet, but when she /does/ speak, she shows so much introspection and intelligence, and I love subverting the expectation that this 'brute' is violent and dumb. She's also strangely romantic, once you peel back all the hard surface. She's easily moved by pretty words, which I find really cute. If you call her 'pretty, beautiful, cute' etc, she gets really flustered but like. in the most stoic way possible. And just shoves her hand on your face. And SPEAKING of beautiful. One of my favorite parts about writing Meta is like. The times where I get to subtly show off just how fucking beautiful she is. Not in an objectifying sort of way, but like... there's /something/ about her that's effortlessly pretty. Not in the way a rose is, or a sunrise, or a rainbow is pretty. No, Meta is beautiful in the way a misty mountain is. She's beautiful in the way a waterfall is. The ocean. It doesn't have to /do/ anything to prove it's beautiful. It's there, and big, and powerful, and you hold this sorta respect for it - and I'm just rambling about what I like abt Meta, WOOPS. Something else I like abt writing her is that she has this very deep level of respect for the Diamonds, which gives her a lot of tact. She's very careful abt how she speaks to them, and tries to be as respectful as possible... without being a doormat. She's this HULKING gem who I LOVE writing as a badass and an unstoppable force, and yet she's quiet, thoughtful, likes small things and poetry, loves standing in the rain and listening to it fall...

Anyways uhhhh yeah I rly like Meta and I can't say much more without HUGE spoilers for the future so HERE TAKE THIS LOVE-RANT

[oigimi]

. vincent, mozart, and arthur with children! .

. i wanna do sebas jean and napoleon next teehee .

Vincent

Vincent’s baby is a little boy with his golden hair and your eye color.

He’s got his father’s kissable cheeks and adorable smile!

Vincent was born to be a father

He always insists on changing baby’s diapers and burping him and getting up in the middle of the night to soothe him.

His favorite thing to do is cuddle the baby while he sleeps.

He’s just so warm and peaceful and cute!

Sometimes he wraps the baby in his scarf.

Of course Vincent is gonna have an ocean of art supplies for your son to play with

The stuff he has is good, but he wanted to go out and get stuff just for the baby to play with.

And he wanted to be sure it was child-safe!

Vincent gushes over every piece of work your son makes.

“I love the colors you chose! That’s such a beautiful shade of green!”

You explain to Vincent how in your time, parents sometimes put children’s drawings on the refrigerator.

He loves this idea.

It’s not just the refrigerator that hosts your son’s artwork, it’s the whole kitchen!

Eventually Sebastian complains about the amount of room the little Van Gogh’s masterpieces are taking up, so Vincent moves them to his art room.

He likes being able to see them anyway.

The little boy loves Uncle Theo so much.

He follows him around when he isn’t following Mommy or Papa.

For his birthday Theo gives him a plushie of a golden retriever!

Your son can’t stop giggling and thanking his uncle, and decides to name the plushie King after the real dog.

He’s a sweet boy, and steals the hearts of everyone in the mansion.

One day he’s going to get one of his own pieces hung up in a gallery for all the world to see.

Vincent cheers him on, adoring everything his baby boy puts out.

He’s known since the moment his son was born that he was going to be fantastic.

Mozart

Mozart’s baby is a little girl with white hair and purple eyes just like him.

But her face looks exactly like yours!

At first, Mozart was very apprehensive at the idea of having a baby.

Babies create messes and make noise, his two least favorite things in the world.

Plus, what if he doesn’t even like the baby?

His fears keep him up all night, leaving him hoping he can be a good father to your child.

But when his daughter is born, all his worries and inhibitions melt away.

The only thing he can think of is how much he wants to hold his daughter and protect her from all of the scary things this world has to offer.

Her little coos and sounds are music to his ears.

Mozart wants his daughter to love music just as much as he does.

He plays music for her all the time

When she’s upset, when she’s cranky, when she’s playful, when she’s happy, there’s always a song playing just for her.

Mozart affectionately calls her his Mäuschen, his little mouse.

She’s quiet like him, but just so sweet and friendly.

And she loves her Vati more than anything in the world.

She always wants to hug Mozart and play dollies with him and show him her blossoming piano skills.

Your daughter is a very talented pianist, even as a little kid!

She wants to be like Vati, so she always spends time at the piano, playing out of a little book of sheet music Mozart bought for her.

One day, your daughter decides she wants to hold a concert for everyone in the house!

So everyone crams into Mozart’s music room, and stands around as they watch your little girl play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, giving her a large round of applause when she’s done.

Mozart couldn’t be more proud of her.

He scoops her up in his arms and kisses her cheek, praising the primadonna for her excellent performance.

Someday she’s going to be traveling across the world, playing in concerts for all to hear.

And Mozart may or may not tear up when she has to leave.

As he hugs her after her little concert for the mansion, he can’t help but think to himself

That he wants his little Mäuschen to stay his little girl forever.

His daughter truly changed his life.

Arthur

Oh, how far he’s fallen from the man he used to be!

A few years ago Arthur was a frivolous womanizing playboy, but now not only is he married, but he’s having a child!

As big of a change as it is, Arthur can’t complain one bit about it.

He adores being your spouse, and having you as his one and only.

He wouldn’t trade that for the world

And now his little family is about to grow.

He’s very excited for his new baby

A little girl with your hair color and his blue eyes, and his beauty mark.

The first thing you notice is her smile looks exactly like his.

Not his cocky smile, but the true smile Arthur shows you when he’s truly happy.

Arthur has wasted no time preparing for the baby.

He’s fantastic with children, and adores them, so he wanted her room decorated nice and pretty for her to have fun and play in.

Fairies are real, he insists, so your daughter’s room is full of fairies and pixies and all sorts of little storybooks about them.

Some of those storybooks were written for her by Arthur himself.

He’s written poems about her, stories about her, and so many little tales inspired by the little daughter that he loves so much.

Aside from her mole, there’s another thing your daughter inherited from Arthur

His cleverness.

She’s very clever, and manages to play the both of you for little things, like an extra cookie or staying up past bedtime a few moments longer.

Arthur is aware of this, by the way. He just thinks it’s absolutely hilarious.

There’s a little him running around!

A lesson Arthur is going to teach her is about men, and how to not let anyone manipulate her or get with her for favors.

He’s quite protective of her, and is definitely the type of dad a boyfriend should fear.

He can deduce bad intentions just from a single glance.

One time, your daughter asked why Arthur’s name is on his books. When he explained it’s because he made it, she wants to make a book so her name is on it too.

Arthur gives her a task, to draw about ten pictures, and he’ll make a story with them.

When she completes the task, and Arthur strings together a story, he gets the book published with only three copies: One for you, one for him, and one for his daughter.

It’s his favorite book he’s ever published, and can’t help but tear up when he thinks about how wonderful his life is now that he has you and his little girl.

He said you’re the only one he’d ever love, but now he might need to make room for one more.

[braindeadbaddie]

A Study on Love: Relearning What It Means to Be Human

Takemichi doesn’t really remember what it’s like to love. He doesn’t really remember what it’s like to live either.

So he is forced to relearn.

In his first life, he blocked all his emotions out, buried his fiery personality away, and kept his head down always apologizing apologizing apologizing. He never wanted to live through the hell his arrogance cost him ever again.

One mistake was all it took to fuck up his life for good.

And yet one push was all it took to make it right.

Takemichi loves Hinata.

Or he did.

When your life’s peak is in the second year of middle school, where emotions and hormones are always high, and everything is so intense, love is as simple as ice cream on a hot summer day.

His first life was simple. The days bled together, full of sorry sorry sorry. Because he was so sorry sorry sorry. Nothing was good, everything was trash, so of course he loved the only person who ever thought highly of him. Of course, that was the highlight of love.

But here he is, in his second life, with a future he crafted, that he took initiative in, that is so much more colorful than his previous one.

And so less lonely.

He doesn’t remember much, his memories of the current timeline lagging a little to catch up, but he does know that even the him that was left to live his life up to this point, started to feel it too:

The dull gray that comes with thinking that as cute as the idea of middle-school sweethearts to lifetime partners is, maybe it isn’t for him. Maybe he doesn’t love Hina the way he once did.

He loved her so much, and he still does. But not like he did before. Her kisses don’t make him feel strong the way they used to. Her embrace lacks a certain warmth. Her love doesn’t make him feel alive the way it used to.

He doesn’t regret saving her. No. He never could. Because he loves Hinata. And maybe it isn’t the blazing love it once was, but it is still a fire that keeps him warm. It makes him feel so good knowing that he saved her, that she’s alive, she’s safe. She’s happy. But she deserves to be happier. She deserves a love that will fulfill her, a love that Takemichi cannot provide for her.

And so Takemichi comes to his first conclusion about love.

That maybe we can love differently at 26 than we did at 14, but that doesn’t make the love any less real.

Just because something is no longer true, doesn’t mean that it once wasn’t, and that doesn’t make it any less valid. People grow, people learn. People become different people.

And isn’t that the most beautiful thing about human nature?

That we can change. That our lives are in our tiny, helpless but ever-changing hands.

So he breaks up with Hina, tells her as gently as possible, cushioning the blows with “I love you, just not the way I used to” and “it’s not you, it’s me,” and “I’m so sor—“

He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t apologize.

He takes a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you like this…”

Yes. That is true. That he feels.

Hina cries and Takemichi hugs her. He offers to stay at a friend’s until she is ready to leave. She agrees because she is too much of a mess to do otherwise.

As he packs a bag to stay at Akkun’s or Mikey’s or one of the other guys’ place for a week or so, he is certain that they’ll both be okay.

He’s sure of it.

So Takemichi makes his way out, planting a final kiss to Hina’s head, whispering a soft affirmation that love will find her.

And then he’s out the door and out of her life for good.

Oddly enough, his first instinct is to call Mikey…so he does and not even 20 minutes later, a beautiful CB205T is driving up to the convenience store he is at.

Mikey gives him a reassuring smile, still unaware of why he’s been called out here and why Takemichi needs a place to crash for a while. He just heard Takemichi needed him, and he was already on his way.

Takemichi settles onto the bike, wrapping his arms around Mikey and sighs, inhaling Mikey’s fresh cologne and body wash and fabric softener.

And as he rides through the city with his cheek pressed against Mikey’s warm back, he comes to his first hypothesis about love.

That love must be warm, and smells like vanilla, cinnamon, and sweet sweet ocean breeze.

~~~~

Mikey is helpless.

That is Takemichi’s first impression of staying with him in the first week.

No wonder Draken lives with him, he giggles to himself one morning.

But Takemichi is helpless too, and he realizes that maybe he wants to stop being so. Because he did want a second chance at life. The least he could do was learn household chores.

So he cooks with Draken over his shoulder, instructing him on what to do in a surprising calm voice. The drastic improvement between each meal is always shocking.

He helps Draken with dishes, laundry, and even a bit of spring cleaning.

Takemichi thinks that this is what love must be like. Because what better way to love than to take care of someone in every way you know how.

Mikey is helpless but he takes the skills he does learn and applies it to the small room he has put together in dedication of his missing family. Shin’s room made from a garage stays the same, a time capsule of love. In the memorial are the ashes of Shin, Emma, and his grandfather. The room is adorned with memories, and a picture of Baji nestled between his siblings.

He has the bunny Draken gave Emma on her birthday, three tattered kid uniforms with Sano Dojo embroidered on them hanging on the wall, a picture of the abandoned building with the collapsed ceiling in the Philippines. He has pictures of old bikes, childhood photos, a first generation Black Dragons jacket and a copy of the photo of the founders of Toman. There is a photo of Izana towards the back of the room, hidden away in the corner, a Teijiku jacket hung above and a pair of earrings lay in front.

Takemichi goes into the room sometimes, talks in a soft voice and apologizes for all that he couldn’t do to save the people closest to Mikey. But he promises them that he will dedicate himself to make sure life is a bit easier for him, because now he can share Mikey’s burden with him, instead of making him feel like he must do it alone.

Takemichi looks at all the photos, radiating love, of all of Mikey’s loss, and finally realizes why Kisaki was able to manipulate him into going dark in so many future. Why he still lost his way, even without Kisaki.

And so Takemichi, belatedly, comes to his second conclusion on love.

That love is what makes us human.

It is what fills our lives with color. It connects us to one another, makes life worth living. The two are connected, needing one another so that life does not become bleak and gray. Love hurts, but the hurt is only possible because of love.

Love is our first language.

And Takemichi so desperately wants to use his second life to become more human.

So he makes dorayaki on days that Mikey’s eyes look far away. They’re awful at first; Mikey makes a very disgusted face and a dramatic show of spitting them out. But it still doesn’t fail to bring his eyes back to the present. And Takemichi is determined and stubborn, and if he could fix the future, he can make the perfect dorayaki for his best friend.

So he consults with Draken and the internet and slowly but surely, manages to make a dorayaki so perfect that Mikey’s eyes shine and shimmer and look at him with so much emotion he feels paralyzed in place.

Ah, Takemichi thinks helplessly. That is what love must look like.

~~~

Takemichi moves in with Mikey and Draken.

It’s something brought up by Mikey, co-signed by Draken, and so it instantly becomes a course of action, no matter how badly Takemichi wants to protest.

But he doesn’t.

Because Takemichi thinks that home feels a lot more like a traditional Japanese house, right next to a dojo, with a garage time-capsule than a shitty apartment with paper-thin walls and shitty neighbors.

Home is mornings with Draken wrapped up in a blue-gray apron with a small dragon stitched into the corner pocket, made with love by Mitsuya, making a traditional Japanese breakfast, cursing out Mikey for always waking up so late.

Home is Mikey stumbling into the kitchen, looking more like an adorable 12 year old than a full grown man who could kill you with one kick.

Home is running his hair through black locks on the porch that overlooks a small garden, because Mikey is clingy and says Takemichi is so warm and insisting that he must nap in his lap every Sunday afternoon.

Home is growing fresh vegetables with Draken in the garden to make meals filled with love. It’s the perfect balance of a noisy kitchen while making dinner and a cup of calming tea in the dead quiet before bed.

And so Takemichi comes to his third conclusion about love.

That love is what makes a home.

~~~

Chifuyuu runs a pet shop with Kazutora because he still loves Baji.

Hakkai is a model because he spent so much time around Mitsuya because he loves him.

Smiley and Angry run a ramen shop together, balancing one another, because they love each other.

Mitsuya is a fashion designer because he started sewing for his two baby sisters who he loves so much.

Pey-yan is Pah-chin’s assistant because he loves him.

Draken lives with and takes care of Mikey because he loves him.

Mikey made and disbanded Toman because he loves his friends.

And so Takemichi comes to his fourth conclusion on love.

That love is a lot less like fire, and a lot more like water.

That love is not in burning the world for someone, but building a world for them instead. It is nurturing, it is life, and it refreshes. It makes up so much of who we are.

Sometimes it is soft like a drizzling rain. Sometimes it is sweet like a cool, crisp glass of water. Sometimes it is harsh like a thunderstorm. Sometimes it can be damaging like a brutal tsunami.

But it always always always nourishes the Earth. Even if the pits of it are dark and scary, unknown trenches of deep deep ocean.

Love is so integral to our being.

~~~

Takemichi is slowly but surely learning what it means to be human. He is slowly but surely learning to live each day as if it were precious.

He takes morning runs with Draken. He fosters an environment of forgiveness at work between his employees. He eats ramen at the twin’s shop. He gets bi-weekly haircuts from Akkun. He wears his special Mitsuya-made apron as he cooks dinner. He buys the magazines Hakkai is featured in. He hangs out with Chifuyuu every Friday night. He still talks to Hina and Naoto, loving the way that the light in Hina’s eyes shine brighter than they ever did with him.

And every morning, and every night, in a small futon, he kisses Mikey, sweet and lovingly.

He holds Mikey close to his chest, guarding him from drifting far away into a sea of sorrow ever again. He whispers sweet nothings into his ear, calling him Manjirou on days he sees dark clouds rolling in his eyes. He kisses him like he is trying to pour all the love he feels into Mikey’s heart.

He lets Mikey cry out about how hard life has been, and how much he has suffered. He kisses away his tears, shares his burdens, and wraps him in warm warm love.

Because he has come to a fifth conclusion about love.

That love, to him, is a fierce desire to save someone.

And hasn’t his whole second life been dedicated to saving Mikey?

[appears]

Moments

It's Ayumi Hamasaki's birthday on October 2 and we're extending the celebration in true ego-maniacal, splashy celebrity fashion, by drawing out the festivities for an entire week! Each day I will briefly discuss a totally random item chosen (not by me) from my Ayu collection. Prepare for praise, disappointment, and controversial opinions backed by love and respect as we take a casual look back in this blurry snapshot of her career. Happy Birthday to our Party Queen, Ayumi Hamasaki!

Ayumi Hamasaki's Moments was the beginning of what industry insiders and now the lay public refer to as a new "era." The single followed the release of Ayu's first mini-album, a collection of eight songs released at the end of 2003 that compiled her last three singles (including the tripe A-side &, No way to say, and forgiveness), along with four new songs, of which all but one received an accompanying music video (that would be the closing, and fan favorite, title track "Memorial address (take 2 version)," which is considered something of a bonus track.

Her next album would be released almost one year later, and to kick start the promotions, she released the elegant "Moments," a sort of melancholy spring ballad influenced by previous ballads like "No way to say" and "HANABI ~episode II~." In hindsight, this was an ominous choice -- ominous as in thick with omens, not inauspicious or threatening -- because it succinctly foretold the musical language of its resulting album, MY STORY (think "walking proud" and "HAPPY ENDING"). It's a song that I immediately liked upon listening, with its simple melody highlighted by a quaint series of catchy la...la-las... It has a steady pace, but it never lacks for punch in the chorus. Like the return to spring itself, it's cyclical, always shifting back to that slower pace again and again. It's clear that this is another in a running series of "seasonal" singles that Ayumi, like the rest of J-pop, indulged in, but which took on a particular resonance here with the two follow-ups: the summery "INSPIRE" and wintry "CAROLS." This sets up MY STORY as a deliberate year-long diary that uses the seasons as a foundational base. And "Moments" is where it all starts, with its symbolic use of new life and rebirth in the flowers and bright greens of the cover art. The music video, too, features a literal room full of technicolor flowers, an almost blinding bubblegum-pink field of blooms among which children play. In classic Ayu-PV fashion, it takes on a sinister feel, but never gets scary or ugly, instead depicting an uncanny kind of wonder.

In March of 2004, we were well beyond the point of maxi-singles that featured a dozen remixes of the title track, but we do get two remixes on this single: a beautiful acoustic piano version that evoked the Acoustic Orchestra series of remix albums, as well as a mostly forgettable dance remix by CMJK titled the "Flying humanoid Mix." I'm disappointed by this remix, as CMJK usually produces some great stuff, like the "Ocean View Remix" on Far away as well as the extended mix of "opening run" on the Daybreak single (he also worked on many of the tracks for NEXT LEVEL). Ayumi's vocals sound great here so the acoustic piano version, which trades all of the pomp of the original for simple piano and some strings, sounds fantastic. The final track is the instrumental version which is also really great, though I would prefer it without the vocal harmonies.

This was the first Ayu single to be released in both a regular CD-only version, and a CD+DVD version that included the music video. The cover art was also the same for both versions of this, something that wouldn't change for three more singles until 2005's fairyland. The CD also contains the infamous copy-protection software on it, but is useless on today's computers and wasn’t much deterrence eighteen years ago either (but man, they really thought they were going to kill pirated music for a while there -- adorable!)

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Smut, you say 👀

You're this cute, kinda innocent woman that gets the help of this handsome gigolo to not be as... innocent.

💕 The Professional: Chapter 1 💕

Chapter Two

Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter only)

Pairing: Danma Takeru (Hatter)/Reader (she/her

Tags: flirting, suggestive conversation, alcohol consumption, smoking, kissing

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

Notes: This is a kind-of sort-of AU—in the show, Hatter references his involvement with the host club business, and mentions that he “would do anything” to be the best. Although host clubs do not usually involve sex work (as far as I know), I believe that he would definitely offer that “off the books” in order to win over his clientele.

You’re nervous. Nervous and jittery and—oh, dear, there’s a lot of feelings going on in here, and all of them seem to fall under the umbrella of ‘mild to moderate discomfort.’ Not that feeling uncomfortable is anything new; in fact, there are very few times where you happen to feel truly comfortable outside of, say, the warmth of your bed or the soothing calm of a late-night bath. Places where you feel safe. Places where you can let yourself breathe and be, unhindered by expectation.

The place where you currently find yourself—this strange little pocket of a room in the buzz and bustle of a Friday-night Kabukicho—is full-to-bursting with expectation. From the polished wood floors to the glittering gold chandelier that hangs from the center of the ceiling, there is an inescapable sense of opulent whimsy that is tinged pink with a blush of sensuality. There are even fresh flowers on the table in front of you—a vase of ranunculus, blooming bright and orange like a green-stalked bunch of tiny setting suns.

Something like an itch tickles your sweat-damp palms, making you ball your hands into tight fists around the fabric of your skirt. Oh, you should have worn something different! Something sexier, maybe, with a deeper neckline and a shorter hem, that hugged the shape of your body as opposed to ghosting over it in fluttering chiffon. Not that you actually, you know, owned anything like that, but—

The pop! of a champagne cork makes you jump. Hell, you feel like you’re about to pop, too, from the nervous energy boiling and swelling in your chest. It’s so very difficult not to fidget, to keep your toes from tapping out a frantic little rhythm on the rug.

Looking back, you realize that the paperwork had been the ‘easy’ part. Not that it had been particularly easy—who knew there would be an application process for this kind of thing?—but it was less stressful to fill out a (surprisingly comprehensive) questionnaire in the privacy of your own home as opposed to this agonizing waiting.

And what, exactly, are you waiting for?

Why, you’re waiting for him.

His name is Takeru—or, at least, that’s what he’s asked you to call him. Whether or not it’s a stage name is difficult to tell; but what you do know is that it sounded so very nice in the deep clear of his voice. The only thing that sounded better was your name, which he said in a gently-sultry half-whisper that made you feel…many thing, and not all of them innocent.

In a devastatingly well-tailored suit of lipstick red—a vibrant pop of a color you would so often consider buying at the makeup counter but always put back—it’s nearly impossible to look at anything but him. A small collection of rings glisten from his fingers, most of them delicate little things that wink a tiny gleam when the light hits them just right. The dizzying black-white-gold pattern of his shirt is unbuttoned just a smidge too low, offering you a tantalizing view of his chest.

And although his back is toward you, concocting some kind of magic at the bar cart along the far wall, you can all but feel the warm-dark of his eyes on you. Oh, he has beautiful eyes, dark and warm with the glitter of laughter—or perhaps mischief, if the situation calls for it. A slim nose leads down to a shapely mouth, handsomely framed by a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache.

Also, his hair—oh, that man has a great head of hair.

Aesthetics aside—he has been undeniably lovely. Slipping the coat from your shoulders when you walked into the room, fingertips skimming the slope of your shoulders with only the barest of touches. Offering you a glass of champagne (“Yes, thank you”) as he leads you to sit on the green velvet settee, hand hovering above but never touching the small of your back. A serene smile on his lips as he talks, as he tells you that your dress is lovely (“Blue is definitely your color, darling”) and letting out an airy chuckle when you mention that this was as good occasion as any to dig it out of the back of your closet.

It is impossible to ignore the way he is so very provocative—subtly so, in a way that makes you second-guess whether his flirtations had happened at all. Did his eyes really linger over the shape of your legs, or was he simply taking a moment to admire your (new, very cute) shoes? Did his fingertips slip over the curve of your shoulder as he removed your coat, or were you just imagining it?

His gaze tiptoes over your shape as he sits down beside you, two flutes of pink-tinged something in hands.

“I’ve taken the liberty of making something a little special,” he says, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as he hands you one of the glasses, “it…it looks nice.”

“Know what it is?”

“Uh,” you say after a moment of silent deliberation, “Maybe alcohol?”

He huffs a short laugh at your half-joke—a rather polite response, and it manages to soothe the bubble of regret that had risen up your throat the moment you’d said it.

“You’re not wrong. More specifically, though, it’s a Kir Royale—or, my take on one, at the very least,” he watches the bubbles fizzle to the top of the glass, “I find myself more or less incapable of keeping with convention, even when it comes to alcohol.”

“Well, uh,” you say, “it’s pretty. I like the color.”

You taste the drink, bubbles like tiny fireworks tickling over the surface of your tongue. There is a dry bitterness, no doubt from the champagne, but it’s softened by a fruity sweetness. Something familiar, something that reminds you of summer and shaved ice and walks along the river and—

“Cherry,” you say, half-lost in the hazy-warm memory of days gone by—until you remember where you are and snap back to reality, “it’s, uh, it tastes like cherries.”

“Very good. Usually, the drink calls for creme de cassis, but I used Kijafa instead. It’s a dessert wine from Denmark, made from cherries,” his brow raises just a smidge, “I thought it appropriate, given the situation.”

And it takes you a minute to understand what he’s talking about. Cherries. You. Ah. A rather crass comparison, but accurate all the same.

“Oh,” you say, picking a very uninteresting spot on the rug to look at in an attempt to avoid meeting his eyes, “I, uh…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he adds, “In fact, virginity isn’t even a real thing. Completely made up. Means nothing, really.”

There is a kind of lag—he’s speaking, you know he’s speaking, but it takes your brain a few extra seconds to figure out what he’s actually saying. It’s strange, hearing someone talk to you so openly about sex. Not unwelcome, by any means, but you need a moment (or two, or ten) to adjust.

“That being said,” he continues, as if he’s discussing the weather, “just because it doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of life doesn’t mean it’s nothing to you.”

He’s fishing. He’s fishing, and you kind of want to take the bait, but…well, you’re finding it difficult to get your thoughts in order. He’s the very picture of calm, all while you’re floundering over a simple conversation.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped,” he says, taking a slow sip of his drink, “I thought you might prefer to talk it over a bit. ”

“No, uh, you’re fine,” you answer quickly, “I’m just…I thought the paperwork kind of covered all that.”

“More or less,” he answers, “however, I’ve found that the person who fills out the forms and the person who ends up sitting across from me are not always of the same mind.”

He reaches a hand into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a silver-plated cigarette case. Although he is not gentleman enough to ask your permission to smoke, he is gentleman enough to offer you a cigarette before taking one of his own. You decline. He shrugs and quickly snaps the case shut before laying it on the table.

“In fact, it’s not uncommon for my clients to have a complete change of heart the second they walk through the door,” he continues, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, “Or, sometimes later on, for that matter. Depends on the person.”

Cigarette held between his teeth, he retrieves a lighter from his right trouser pocket. With a sharp little snick, he ignites it, pulling the little orange flame towards his face and hiding it behind his hand to let it catch.

“Really?”

You watch him intently, the way his eyelids flutter closed at the first inhale. The way his lips pucker around the filter and release, the red-pink sticking slightly as they pull away and let smoky white flow out and fade into the air.

“Really,” he confirms, “once, I had a client step inside, take one look at me, and promptly walk right back out. Never saw them again, which is fine. I’ll never fault someone for doing what’s right for themselves.”

“Are you, uh, trying to talk me out of it?”

“Not at all. Just making you aware of your options,” he says, “Doing anything for the first time is scary. Driving a car, swimming in the ocean, traveling abroad—sex is no different.”

“Yeah, well,” you respond, “you also get to do most of those things with your clothes on, so…”

“Depends on who you’re with.”

You can’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I still want to…you know,” you answer, “uh, do it. The…the sex part.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he insists, “I can’t imagine anyone being upset at the thought of having a pretty thing like you in their bed.”

“I’m not—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, taking on a tone that brokers no arguments, “I will suffer many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. You are an attractive woman and I refuse to be told otherwise.”

“Sorry, I,” you say sheepishly, “I guess I just…wasn’t expecting you to…like me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his cigarette and takes another long, slow drag, “You’re very sweet. A bit shy, maybe, but I happen to like the shy ones.”

And there is something about the way he says it, the way his voice wraps around the words—oh, there are implications to those words, and you find yourself growing warm at the thought of what exactly those implications could entail.

You sip your drink. He smokes. The quiet between you is almost comfortable. Maybe it’s the alcohol working it’s bubbly magic, but you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease in this strange little place.

Moreover, you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease with him. The thought of kissing him crosses your mind, then doubles-back and crosses it again. Oh, that sounds nice. He would be good at it, too; starting gently, mouth pressed soft and sure against your own, and then just the tiniest tease of his tongue—

“And there you go, biting your lip again,” he says, snapping you out of your impromptu fantasy, “You have no idea how sexy that is, do you?”

He is sporting a devilish grin—not only is he aware that you had been daydreaming about him, but he’s relishing the fact that he was able to catch you so off-guard.

“Didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you admit with a shrug. But you can’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of being considered ‘sexy’—you never really let yourself feel that way, but now that it’s happening…oh, it’s nice.

“It’s absolutely delicious, darling. Makes me wonder what else you do when you’re turned on…”

And he’s got you—like a knife held under your chin, his sharp gaze pins you in place. He is impossible to avoid. Not that you particularly want to avoid him—there’s something irresistible about this man, something that you can’t quite name but definitely want more of.

It’s scary.

It’s exciting.

“I’m,” you say with a nervous chuckle, “not really sure, myself. Guess we’ll have to, uh, figure it out together.”

His gaze darkens. He takes one last lungful of nicotine before stubbing out his cigarette.

“I suppose we shall.”

And he’s moving now, sliding himself down so that he’s closer to you. He stops when there is barely an inch of space between the outside of his thigh and your own. His right arm has draped itself over the back of the sofa, the fingertips of his hand now skimming the skin of your shoulder in loose, mindless sweeps.

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

He plucks the champagne flute from your grasp and sets it on the table in front of you.

“I, uh—“

The fingertips on your shoulder continue to make their idle little circles, almost hypnotic in their swirling pattern. His left hand catches your right wrist, his thumb pressing above where your pulse thrums beneath sensitive skin.

“Bit fast,” he observes, pulling your arm closer as if inspecting it, “Could be nerves, but I think it’s more from excitement, don’t you?”

You have no choice but to lean into him as he brings your hand closer. Your shoulder presses against his arm, and you feel the solid shape of him through the smooth of his suit. He’s strong underneath all of those layers—warm, too, judging from the heat that radiates from his person.

“I’m—“

The thumb that had been testing your pulse inches higher, stopping when it’s pressing into the center of your palm. His eyes lock with yours, a heartbeat of a moment, and brings your wrist closer and closer until his lips are ghosting over your flesh. When he finally decides to make contact, you gasp—it’s a delicate sensation, but sends your heart skipping in a shaking staccato.

And, then.

Then he sucks.

The sound you make is halfway between an oh of surprise and a desperate little moan—oh, wow, that’s really weirdly unexpectedly hot—and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed by your own reaction. He’s not even doing much, not really; just a little bit of pressure, lips parted just enough to let his tongue slip out and have a taste of you.

But, oh, it feels…it feels filthy, it feels decadent, it feels like something you should not be doing but very much want to keep doing for the rest of your life. Takeru’s eyes have since fluttered shut, and he hums the tiniest sound of pleasure as he maintains his seductive tease.

“Please,” you manage to sigh, sounding as breathless as you feel, “please, I, I want you to kiss me.”

His lips release from your wrist with a pucker-pop noise—which was no doubt intentional on his part, and does nothing to quell the thrill of desire in your belly.

“Hm. I’ll make you a deal,” he says, shifting a bit to the left so that he can turn to face you better, “I’ll kiss you for the rest of the night, but right now…you kiss me.”

And what a deal that is—you don’t even have to think about it, head bobbing in an affirmative nod as you wet your lips in anticipation. The hand that had so lovingly held yours is now guiding you to rest your palm just above his knee. You reflexively reach your other hand out to steady yourself, and it lands against his chest before you can stop it.

He’s so close now. There’s barely any space between your faces, barely room to breathe—

“Go on, darling,” he whispers, “if you want me, have me.”

And you do.

You kiss him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The anxiety that has plagued you since the moment you entered the room hasn’t completely dissipated—it would be foolish to think it’d be that easy to banish those feelings completely—but all that is now secondary to the feeling of his mouth on yours.

Kissing Takeru is warm. It’s soft and it’s sure and it’s…comfortable, in a way. Safe, even. He does not press, doesn’t do much of anything except mirror the way your lips slide against his own. A gentle rhythm, a push and pull between the two of you that feels as natural as the moon guiding the tides to shore—yes, kissing him is good and right and something you want to do many times over.

Unfortunately, you have to pull away to breathe. He doesn’t let you go far, though, one hand cupped behind the nape of your neck and the other pressing into the small of your back.

“Oh, you are sweet,” he purrs, his gaze dropping to your freshly-kissed lips, “and, seeing that I’m a man of my word…”

As it turns out, being kissed by Takeru might be better than kissing him, yourself. He is still so very careful when he presses his lips to yours, but this time…this time, there’s fire. He tastes like the best part of a cigarette, like warmth and alcohol and cherries, and it only intensifies as he tests the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Little by little, you begin to test him, too. Hands cradle the curve of his jaw, feeling the way his face shifts as he moves against you. Fingertips run through the soft dark of his hair—oh, he likes that, if the half-sigh that slips from his throat is to be believed. And when you nip at his lower lip with your teeth (he had, after all, very much enjoyed the way you bit your lip earlier), he genuinely moans and pulls you even closer to himself.

It’s when he begins to wander lower, with his mouth skimming the sensitivity of your neck and his hand splayed across your lower back in a way that flirts with the idea of indecency, that you begin to want more. Fear—and maybe that’s not exactly the right word for what you’re feeling, but it’s the only one that comes to mind—begins to creep up the column of your spine.

The “what-if’s” start filling your brain; what if you mess something up? What if you do something he doesn’t like? What if you freeze up later and—

“Alright, darling?”

His voice is a low soothe against your ear; he’s retreated, just a bit, and his hand has wandered to a chaste and respectable area of your mid-back.

“I—“

You want him to take you to bed. You want him to take off your dress and kiss you in all the places you thought weren’t worth kissing, to let his hands trace sparks along the curves of your shape and let him be close to you in a way that no one else has. You want him, despite the uncertain ache that burns between your ribs and bids you to hide yourself away and leave behind the pleasure of his touch.

…But all you can manage is a nervous glance to the bed behind you (the one you had been avoiding thinking about up until this point) and a stammered “Can we, uh…?”

“Ask me,” he says, his index and middle fingers idly skimming the notch in your collarbone, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you ask me.”

It’s difficult to make eye contact with him—every time you try, you feel embarrassment swell up beneath your tongue.

But Takeru is, as you have come to learn over the last hour or so, decidedly patient. He shows no sign of relenting, appearing to be perfectly content with giving you an expectant grin and continuing his little touches as you try not to squirm in your seat.

“I,” you gulp, “I want…“

You bite your lip—oh, wait, he likes that too, and he’s staring at you with those sharp and sultry eyes, and it makes something behind your heart squeeze and unsqueeze itself and punches the air from your lungs and—

“Take me to bed,” you manage to spit out, and it all sounds like one word with how quickly you pushed the words into the air. The “uh, please” you tack on at the end is an afterthought, but perhaps it’s polite enough to pass muster.

“Was that so hard,” Takeru asks with a good-natured chuckle, “but since you asked so nicely…”

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips for a kiss—and even that, after everything, still has you feeling a flutter of something giddy in your stomach.

“Darling,” he says, “it would be my pleasure.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

…and now, you’ll have to wait until chapter two to get to the “good stuff!”

It’s been a challenge writing this—I’m trying to make the scenario believable while still keeping it vague enough to allow for people to make up their own little details. It’s also been unexpectedly difficult to write him, since he’s kind of being himself while also playing a character who’s trying to mold themself into their client’s fantasy…it’s a lot of layers, but it’s been fun trying to figure things out!

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 18 - Holy Ghost

Masterlist; Chapter 17

Summary: First few days in Tallinn are like a calm before the storm, while you and Neil are getting used your new dynamic. It proves to be rather surprising...

Warnings: 18+ (yep, she did it again because these two wanted to); swearing.

Author’s Notes: So ummm... I’m not sure what happened here and you’ll be the judges of that. All I can say is that I’ve been inspired by the skewed tie and that Tallinn will take at least two more chapters because they keep getting distracted. Hope you’ll enjoy! Feedback is always welcome as I’m not sure what I’m doing...🙈

The lovely edit has been provided by my amazing and talented friend @sh3tani​ (thanks for putting up with my bs 💕)

Despite technically being a Tenet agent for a while, the dramatic changes of pace in your life never failed to amaze you. After that careless morning in London, mere hours later you got the text from TP, sending you and the Cavalry to Tallinn. Minutes afterwards, Neil burst into your room saying that the younger TP called, giving him directions to run a few lab tests and then to meet him in the capital of Estonia, as well. Neither of you had any clues as to why but then that was rather expected. 

That is how you found yourself in a safe house in the suburbs of Tallinn. For security and convenience, you have joined Ives’s squad there while Neil booked a hotel room nearby to keep up the appearances before TP. For the first few days, the boss has not yet arrived in the city, and therefore, as Neil put it, there was much more room to maneuver. Whatever that meant.

Estonian safe house was a relatively vast apartment on the ground floor of an old brick house. It had six bedrooms furnished with simple Ikea beds, bedside tables, and a small wardrobe. There was also one bathroom (hell of an inconvenience for nine people occupying the place) and a kitchen opening into a living room with sofas and tv. The space was nearly barren save for the objects needed to survive for however long you were bound to stay there. On the day of your arrival, Ives sent you and Wheeler to the shop for the supplies, reasoning being that apparently you two had most brain cells in the whole team. You enjoyed the possibility to charge your introvert batteries before days spent with eight people, of which only two you actually knew. With close to no information concerning the point of the mission, the days have been spent idly chatting, playing games, and watching television. In Estonian, naturally. For you, a crucial part of the survival became continuous reception and the ability to reach out to Neil when needed. Which was often and soon became a passing joke among the rest of the company. Once Henrik tried to steal your phone and ended up with a bread knife pressed against his neck, the innocent fun ended. That was on day two.

Luckily you got your own room, while the others were forced to share. This you owed to the fact that you were not part of the squad and hence had the right to privacy. It proved rather useful the day when unexpected company came. You were busy trying not to burn the scrambled eggs on a scratched-up pan, half humming a song you heard on the radio. Despite the early hour, everyone was up and either moving about or outside on a run. If there was anything you have learned from the experience so far, it was that Tenet soldiers started the day early and were shit at cooking. Eggs, instant noodles, and oven pizzas were the menu staples. Sighing, you picked up the only clean plate left when you heard a commotion in the hallway. Not long after, a voice called out:

“Y/N? You’ve got a visitor” you did not like the amused undertone in that information.

“Yeah…?” hesitantly, you stepped into the hallway.

The cheeky grin was quite the sight at 9 am.

“Good morning, sunshine” you resisted the urge to break the plate on Neil’s head.

At least he brought coffee.

“Hey,” warily you looked at Michael, who was loitering next to you, interested in the situation “Should we…?” looking at the door to your room, you met Neil’s gaze.

“Naturally” he smiled and followed you in.

Only once you closed the door behind you both, blocking out the curious stares, you breathed out the air you did not know you were holding. You set the plate on the bedside table and grinned as Neil carelessly threw himself onto your bed.

“Thought I’ll get a kiss or something for all that awkwardness out there” you commented, eyeing the man sprawled on your mattress.

Briefly, you marvelled at how you have managed to become this comfortable with each other. But then almost having sex was bound to count for something. Supposedly.

“You will if you come here” Neil raised his head and extended a hand in an invitation.

Mournfully you glanced at your abandoned breakfast and crossed the space, intertwining your fingers with his. You were not surprised when Neil pulled you down onto the bed, only just managing not to lie on him. Feigning disappointment, he huffed and leaned in, kissing you slowly. Deepening the kiss, you tangled your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer. With legs interlocked, half-lying on the narrow bed, it was all too real. In moments like this, it was easy to believe that maybe it was meant to be. Breaking up the kiss, you opened your eyes to stare at Neil. In the soft light coming through the opened shutters, you could clearly see the darker rims around his blue irises. In the morning, his eyes resembled the colour of an ocean. The long eyelashes framing the eyes and the eyebrows, furrowed in concentration, gazing back at you. Your eyes then landed on his parted mouth, the corners turned down slightly, and the shape of his lips. You wondered how someone this beautiful could choose you among all the people in the universe.

“Your breakfast and the coffee are getting cold” he murmured, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Do you want me to get up?” running your fingertips over his temple, you reveled in the intimacy of the moment.

Neil smiled and raised your joined hands to kiss your knuckles.

“Not really. I like having you this close so I can stare” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Same, actually,” you mirrored his expression, dragging fingers through the golden hair.

It seemed like your London evening full of important conversations gave you more confidence. Suddenly it was not that scary to share your thoughts and feelings with him because there was a chance he will understand. Or at least not ridicule you. As though Neil was reading your mind, he asked:

“What are you thinking about?” you could tell he was genuinely interested.

That was enough to make you feel a surge of feelings towards him. Maybe it won’t hurt to say something… Taking a deep breath, you warned:

“Just don’t laugh,”

“I’ll do my best” Neil bopped your nose quickly, making your brain short-circuit for a second.

What even. Focusing all your attention on him, your eyes wandered over his face. Resting on all the features that made him the man you loved.

“Sometimes I just can’t get over how beautiful you are… like a bloody masterpiece” you cupped his cheek “And I’ve no clue why you’re so fixed on me” sighing dejectedly, you awaited a response.

If the slightly widened eyes were any clue, he was surprised by your admission.

“That was probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten” Neil stumbled over the sentence.

So, it was worth saying. For another time, you left the discussion on how that could even be true.

“Have you seen yourself though? How could I not be fixed on you?” it was Neil’s turn to cup your cheek, making you blush.

The pure confidence in his eyes was too much to bear at the moment. Sitting up, you kicked him lightly, enjoying the affronted look.

“Now you’re being ridiculous” you moved to stand up, but Neil took hold of your waist, sitting up as well.

You were too close again, noses brushing. It was easy to lean in and kiss him. Only when you did, a knock resounded in the room. Fucking hell.

“Can I come in?” the cockney accent was a giveaway “I bloody hope you two aren’t getting up to stuff”

Despite yourself, you giggled with your lips still brushing over Neil’s, making him sigh. For a millisecond, he tightened his grip over your waist and then let go and moved an inch away. You looked at him for permission before calling out:

“Be our guest”

In an attempt to look as casual as it was possible, you grabbed the plate with your cold eggs and passed Neil his coffee. Sitting back down on the bed, you pasted a neutral smile onto your face. As if that would divert anyone’s attention from your tangled hair and Neil’s flushed cheeks. Ives opened the door and scrutinized you both quickly, not missing how you frowned upon the first bite of your breakfast. Then he gave Neil a quick pat on the back:

“Good to see you, mate” he perched on the windowsill for the lack of any other furniture “I was hoping you’d at least come to say hi” he gave you both a knowing glance.

Cursing your own inability to say no to Neil, you grudgingly finished the eggs and took another sip of the lukewarm coffee. Next time, food first, then kissing. No matter how irresistible the bastard might be.

“I was planning to, only…” the bastard in question shrugged before glancing at you shortly.

“Oh, I know. Priorities and all that” Ives smirked upon your deepening blush “I get it, believe me. Plus, seeing how often Y/N is glued to her phone, I reckon you two are doing good” he winked.

Sensing Neil’s growing discomfort, you shot back:

“Don’t talk about me as though I wasn’t here” it was hard to look threatening when staring at someone like Ives, but you did your best.

“Or?” he arched his eyebrow amusedly.

“I’ll shoot you”

The sudden tense silence got interrupted by Neil breaking into a laugh, collapsing against you. So much for pretending you could keep away from each other. Once he calmed down, he rested his head on your shoulder and said:

“And that’s why I like you”

You did not know it was possible to blush even more. And yet. Even though what he said was hardly a surprise, he never mentioned anything like that with others present. Before you could come up with any response, Ives commented:

“Aren’t you two cute, eh?”

Lord give me strength…  

“Ives” you warned, reaching for the gun you always kept in the drawer by the bed.

He laughed and raised his hands in defence.

“Okay, I’ll stop now” he glanced at Neil, who was comfortable enough, still leaning on you “Has he given you any more clues?”

You relaxed once the conversation steered onto more professional tracks.

“Not really. I ran the analysis on the gold bar he sent, and well, there’s literally nothing concrete there” Neil shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the plutonium piece that went missing back in Kiev” he added.

“Is that part of the Algorithm?” you asked.

The topic has not really come up since your first conversation with TP in Boston, but from the information you got from Neil and others in the organisation, it seemed like the pieces were set in motion. In the Kiev Opera, another part of the compound has been lost. Maybe its purpose was to resurface in Tallinn so that you could take over.

“Yeah” Neil confirmed your suspicions with a curt nod.

“How… how do you know about this?” it was Ives’ turn to be confused, looking at you with palpable shock in his eyes.

Right… Sometimes it was hard to keep track of who knew what and why. And that was one of such moments. Straightening your back, you explained:

“TP told me. Apparently, I’ll have a role to play hence why I’m being dragged into this” glancing at Neil, who all of sudden looked rather sombre, you added, “Not only because of this idiot” giving in to the temptation, you ruffled his hair.

“…thanks” pouting, Neil moved away.

“Welcome” 

*** You have left the apartment and quickly checked the maps again. Neil set your meeting for a rather obscure park square in the downtown area of the city since that was where he was supposed to meet TP later. At first, you wanted to refuse, to tell him that it was risky to go for a walk with the boss nearby. But then, you knew there was not much point in saying no to something that tempting. It was enough that you might not be able to spend time together at all the next few days.

Just when you were sure you have gotten lost in the greyness of the apartment blocks and identical streets, you spotted him waiting on the bench. The icy wind was ruffling his hair as Neil stared at the pavement, unaware of your attention. You smiled at the sight of his brown and green outfit and those strange shoes; you have seen the brogues before in Oslo. Now that was something worth a call out later. Ending the scrutiny, you approached him and, as a means of greeting, brushed the hair away from his forehead. That worked, as it always did. The blue eyes snapped up to meet yours:

“Hello” you offered him a small smile.

“Tere, kallis” the grin combined with the strange words he uttered made you frown.

“I hope that was something appropriate”

He took your hand in his and pulled you down onto his lap. The happy sparks in his eyes were almost enough to make you ignore the cold and the embarrassment of the situation.

“I thought you said we’re going for a walk” forcing a stern tone was difficult with how Neil gently cupped your flushed cheek.

“That we are. But first, I wanted to get you up close and personal” he brushed his nose against yours tenderly.

“I see…” with the corner of your eye you could see an older woman observing you from the nearby bench.

With a start, you realised how very much alike a couple you must look to any passerby. Sitting on Neil’s lap, with his arm securing you around the waist and your faces inches away, there were no questions about the nature of your relationship. But, somehow, that was okay. A stronger gust of wind made you shiver, which he noticed straight away and pulled you even closer, your lips nearly touching. The blue of his irises and the depth of focus in them made you gasp. It was always like this with him, as though you were the only person in the universe that mattered.

“We’ll get going now, only…” Neil met your gaze with a silent question.

You nodded. He could do anything he wanted anyway. He met your lips in a slow kiss, relishing in the feeling for at least half a minute. You placed your hand on the back of his neck to bring him a little closer, suddenly grateful for the position he put you in. Then, just as the kiss threatened to get more heated, Neil broke the contact and leaned back, taking in your dazed expression. He always knew how to get to you.

“Now we can go” he smirked, and you had no choice but to slide off his lap.

As soon as you were both standing, Neil grabbed your hand again and intertwined your fingers. As usual. It did seem like neither of you wanted to pretend today, and instead letting yourselves explore the ‘not-quite relationship’ you got into. For once, the voices in your head were silent, seemingly agreeing to the new developments. You did wonder how long that was bound to last.

“Ives says hi, by the way,” you broke the silence, looking around the cityscape.

This part of Tallinn certainly was not as picturesque as the city centre, but it had to do. After all, your sole focus was Neil. Not much else mattered when you were together. If that did not confirm your feelings, then god knows what did. Sighing, you turned to look at the man in question.

“You told him we’re meeting up?” he asked with a slight crease between his eyebrows.

Confusion, then.

“No. I just said that I’m going out for a walk, and he told me to say hi to you” laughing at the idiocy of the moment you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

In response, you got the signature Neil grin that was the beginning of your downfall all those months previously. Despite the absolute horror you felt during the initial conversation with Ives, now it was somehow less terrifying.

“Ah, I see” his tongue clicked thoughtfully, only making you laugh harder.

It was difficult to get the next sentence out.

“He also added that he’s surprised he’s not yet caught you sneaking out of my room at night”

The small snorting sound Neil let out made you want to kiss him right there, in the middle of the busy street.

“Why do I feel like he wants it to happen” he glanced at you quickly with an amused expression.

“Maybe it’s his thing” you retorted, savoring the laugh it prompted from your companion.

After that first morning in the safehouse, you have both decided to try and keep away from any rash actions or decisions while in Estonia. You certainly had enough of interruptions, and with the team sharing the space, it was all too precarious. Hence you have been meeting up outside, for strolls or lunch, talking about everything and nothing. Only now, that TP was around, it was bound to change, and you expected that this might be the last of those stolen moments.

“I’m sorry that we had to meet around here today” Neil interrupted your slightly melancholic thoughts “I wanted to take you out somewhere again, but he called, and I think it will be on soon” he lowered his voice to a slightly conspicuous tone, making you smile.

“It’s okay, at least that means I’ll know why the fuck am I even here” shrugging, you looked around at the shops you have passed by.

“For me?” Neil batted his eyelashes innocently while tightening his hold over your hand.

“Apart from that” this time you allowed him honesty “Don’t you ever get tired though? Of me?” the self-sabotaging voice contributed a question.

It was too late to take it back. But the way Neil looked at you then, with disbelief and fondness, was enough to excuse the moment on insecurity.

He stopped walking, making you freeze despite the streams of people going in both directions. You were like an island amidst a fast-flowing river. Neil forced you to meet his gaze by tilting your chin upwards. There was nothing playful in his eyes, just sincerity and love. And determination.

“Do you need me to remind you why that’s impossible?” you did not know when did his voice become so husky.

“Maybe” biting your lip, you searched his face, fascinated and curious.

Neil glanced at the teeth nibbling on your lower lip, and his tongue darted out, seemingly on reflex. Oh. When his eyes met yours again, you could see a hint of a new emotion there. He was hesitating for approximately 10 seconds before he started leading you again with purpose. Before you could ask a single question, he turned sharply into a non-descript alley between two crumbling buildings. It was empty save for a few pieces of trash lying around and a rusted door at the other end, with a metal padlock and a heavy chain. But your quick scan of the environment got interrupted by Neil wrapping his arm around your waist and pushing you at one of the walls. Just before your head could hit the bricks, he cradled the back of it, providing a safeguard. Ever so thoughtful. Wide-eyed, you glanced up at him to gauge the intention. The darkness and resolve you found were enough of an indicator.

“The walk will have to wait” he spoke before crashing his lips against yours.

The instinct kicked in instantaneously, making you respond by bringing him closer with your hand taking hold of his tie. Kissing Neil was like a fix for an addiction you did not want to fight against. No matter how urgent it was, you could always find a tempo that suited you both, neither fighting for dominance. It was like a dance where both were willing to lead and follow. Neil bit into your lower lip, drawing blood, tinting the kiss with that coppery taste. Fuck. You gasped into his mouth, shivering when his tongue ran along the split, licking off the droplets. It was enough to make you want more. As a payback, you caught his upper lip with your teeth, tugging at it lightly to remind him of the potential. But only when you pulled on his tie sharply, making Neil almost collapse against you, he broke the kiss with a groan. His eyes were hazed with lust, making you lightheaded the more you kept on gazing. The bloody shade of red on his lips made your pulse quicken. You still kept the hold on his patterned tie, making sure he was within your reach. His tongue darted out and licked off the remains of blood. That was a good cue to sober up. You released his tie and placed your hand over his heart, relishing in the way he was looking at you, as though you were a sight he could never have enough of.

“Huh…” you broke the silence and glanced at the entryway to the alley.

Thankfully no spectators.

“Is this all you’re going to say?” Neil’s perplexed facial expression made you laugh.

Sometimes it was fascinating to see him that disoriented after a kiss. Because it was a clear sign that not only you were affected by everything that transpired. Another reason to believe that maybe the feeling was mutual. Calming down, you started toying with his shirt collar. Even though heated kisses in dirty alleys were never your kind of thing, with Neil that too was exciting. And something you wanted to repeat.

“I mean… this is rather nice” you met his confused gaze and added, “Being with you like this”

Coherence for more complex sentences was nowhere to be found.

“I’m glad because I wanted that last hour of normalcy before we go back to the usual” Neil staggered over the sentence as well, making your heart stumble with fondness.

Pouring the feeling into your gaze, you grinned at him, running your hands over his shirt and lapels. You knew exactly what he meant. But still, with tongue poking out, you noticed:

“That sentence didn’t make sense, and yet I agree” the way his eyes darted onto your lips was enough to cause a resurgence amidst the butterflies.

Neil leaned in again, eager for another kiss. But you had other ideas, struck with the courage to tease him a little. You dropped your head and kicked him in the foot lightly. Just enough to bring his attention onto the subject of your scrutiny.

“The hell are those shoes though” you smirked upon his utterly lost gaze.

“What? You don’t like them?” the slight pout only made your grin wider.

With the hair in disarray, reddened cheeks, and pink lips, he was more than a sight to behold. And all that because of you. Wow.

“They look a little like you wanted to channel Pennywise or something” you laughed at his blank stare “Remind me to go through your wardrobe one day because you’re selling yourself short with those fashion choices” to emphasize the point you tugged on his tie again and frowned.

But it seemed like Neil managed to recover enough. He placed both of his hands on the wall, blocking your way out. The well-known smirk came back too. You had a feeling that you were about to lose this one battle.

“And yet here you are” he practically purred with a hungry look in his eyes.

You swallowed. Whenever he got like this, showing how much he wanted you, it was hard to think. Raking your head for a response, you settled on honesty again.

“That’s because I admire your soul” eyeing him intently, you added “And hair”

You tugged on the golden strands, making him whine in frustration. Good.

“And eyes” he met your gaze purposefully, a hint of a knowing smile on his face.

Of course, he’d know.

“Yeah” you raised your head.

A challenge he took without hesitation. Neil reached for the scarf wrapped around your neck and loosened it just enough to have access. Before you could do as much as exhale, his lips were on your neck and throat, attacking all the spots that were bound to make you gasp and search for something to hold on to. Cursing, you closed your eyes, letting yourself block everything that was not Neil and his touch. Soon his hands joined in with the exploration, brushing over your body, slipping inside the opened coat and underneath your blouse. Any resistance you might have had was slowly breaking. Blindly, you found his tie again and started to work on undoing the knot with shaking hands. Once you loosened it and undid the first three buttons, you slipped your hand underneath his shirt. You did not even know what you wanted to do. He was there, yours and in reach. That was enough to cause urgency. But any intent you might have had disappeared when Neil finished his study with a harsh bite over your collarbone.

“Jesus Christ…” you huffed and pulled him closer with a finger around his belt loop.

As his hips met yours, he raised his head and met your gaze shamelessly. Nothing but want and adoration. A sudden commotion on the street helped you remember the surroundings. Sighing, you pieced together a sentence:

“This is rather risky, don’t you think?” if anything, the unconscious way in which you bumped your hips against his again was a contradiction to the statement.

Your head was a mess. On one hand, wanting nothing but Neil, right here and now. On the other, doing anything like this in an alley spoke against the last bits of the reason you tried to preserve.

“Yes, but I quite enjoy the thrill” Neil brushed his hand over your stomach and smiled devilishly.

If your experience was anything to go by, and the way it felt when his crotch brushed over your hip, he too was rather invested. That thought gave you some needed courage to respond.

“You like being caught? Then I’m surprised you were so unsatisfied in Oslo” the cheeky smile and a quick touch of your hand over the front of his pants did it.

Neil swallowed hard and took additional few seconds to find words.

“More than being caught I like you. And everything we do... or could do” experimentally, he traced his finger along the line of your belt.

The goosebumps and rising tension within your core were good enough clues towards your feelings on the matter.

“Like what?” the breathlessness of your voice made you frown.

“Like this” in one swift motion, Neil undid the buckle.

Shit. That was enough to raise concern. You wanted him, urgently, but…

“Neil... do you seriously think fucking in an alley is a good idea?” you did know where that word came from, but it was pretty spot on.

“First of all, we’re not fucking. This isn’t that primal” for some reason the way he pronounced it only made matters worse, as did that smirk “Unless one day you feel like it and-” oh hell.

You placed one hand over his mouth, shutting him up, the other ventured into the pocket of your coat, where you always had the small hunting knife hidden.

“I’m going to stab you. Here they won’t find you for days” aiming for a threatening tone, you raised the hand from his mouth.

But not before he somehow managed to kiss your fingers. His eyes were dark, determined to make you break any internal rules you could have.

“Wow, you really have it bad for me” Neil whispered, getting ever closer, ignoring your threats.

Too lost in the strange conversation you have not even realised when he managed to unzip your jeans. Only once you felt his hand slipping between your thighs, you huffed with frustration. Thinking on reasons against letting him do it was getting increasingly harder.

“Neil” was the only warning you could manage.

All thoughts disappeared when he palmed you through the underwear. Searching for support, you put your hands on his shoulders.

“I just want to check if you’re still interested... still so eager,” the satisfied grin told you that it felt just as bad as you expected.

Like this, with him having direct access to check what was working for you, there was nowhere to hide. Once again, he managed to bring you to such a state with worrying ease. His whole body was pressing against yours, with one hand teasing you through the thin layer of clothing. The other has somehow managed to wrap around your throat. Not strong enough to apply pressure, but at the same time making you face him. And increasing the need you felt.

“You’re a bastard” the insult got muddled by the longing you could not hide from your gaze.

Neil caught it, grinning mischievously. The game was on.

“Well... it takes two and all that” he feigned nonchalance, arching an eyebrow.

You knew full well what he was implying. You could practically feel how drenched with arousal you were. Your underwear was wet to touch, thighs clenching around Neil’s hand. That was his cue to keep your legs parted by inserting his knee between them. Here we go again. You wanted him to do something. Anything. But he was resolved to keep you waiting, thinking about all the different ways to make the situation even more unbearable for you. To make you beg for whatever he was willing to give. Your futile attempt to grind on his thigh got stopped with a stronger grip around your throat and a glimpse of something darker in his eyes. You had enough.

“Why are you doing this?” the hoarse tone of your voice was rather shameful.

“Because I know that you actually enjoy it” Neil shrugged and met your gaze with playful sparks in the blue eyes.

You did not want to know how obvious it must have been for him. Then, he slowly stroked you there, earning a muffled curse.

“I would if you finished it for once” you breathed, letting the frustration take over.

The ache between your legs was nearly driving you over the edge now. It was too much. Neil was too close, and yet not close enough.

“I’m giving you food for thought, so to speak” he murmured.

His hand moved; thumb tentatively hooked around the hem of your panties. An offer to take it a step further any second now.

“That you are” you met his gaze defiantly.

If he was so determined to make you suffer, you might as well give him what he wanted.

“Have you been... dreaming about this?” Neil glanced down at where his fingers were getting closer to where you needed him most.

As though he needed to ask. Of course, you have thought about this scenario before. And many others too. After all, you had to somehow deal with those countless times when his pure existence frustrated you in every meaning of the word.

“Mhmm” you hummed, hoping that will be enough of a response.

The smirk was a reward.

“Good”

Unable to withstand the tension any longer, you kissed him hungrily, taking everything you could have. Soon enough, you were both gasping for breath, yet you did not want to let go. Biting, sucking, and nibbling on every part of his mouth available, he was your drug. With his hand still in a loose chokehold and the other so close to your pulsating core, Neil became the sole reason for your existence. Your knees buckled when he sharply tugged at your panties and touched you without the barrier of the undergarment. You broke the kiss and met his wild gaze, both shocked by the sheer pull between you. Only once he drew a finger between your folds, collecting some of the wetness, the moment got interrupted by Neil’s raspy chuckle.

“It’s quite flattering to see you like this and all because of me” you were not sure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him.

But then that was a usual thing with Neil.

“Just don’t get cocky…” it was hard to put together a string of words.

“Or?” his thumb touched your clit, and you hissed sharply “I already know how I’m making you feel”

To prove a point, he drew another gasp from you by starting a circular stimulation of the sensitive nub. You whimpered, suddenly aware of what a sight you must be for him. Utterly ruined because of kisses, touches, and words. You hated being at anyone’s mercy like this.

“Neil…” a weak plea made him meet your gaze “Please just…” helplessly, you tried to convey everything through the expression in your eyes.

He searched your face before letting go of your throat and instead cupping your cheek tenderly. The juxtaposition was enough to make your head spin.

“What do you want?” it was that question again.

Simple and yet not at all. Awaiting the response, Neil stopped all the movement, increasing your frustration and need. You knew that there was no way you could ever walk away from this as though nothing happened. You might as well have some relief.

“Help me before I lose my fucking mind” you breathed out, expecting the smug smile.

Instead, you got the most sickening grin you have ever seen on his face. But combined with the adoration in his eyes, you knew it was exactly what he wanted to hear from you.

“With pleasure” the words rolled off his tongue, and before you could prepare, he went back to stimulating your clit.

Your head almost slammed onto the wall behind when he picked up the pace. Even though you both knew that you hardly needed any additional preparation, Neil took his time, never taking his gaze off you. At the edges of your consciousness, you could feel the rising shame that was bound to consume you later. After all, this was the second time that you have asked him to help you like this. Surely, he would soon get tired of having to deal with your issues and never getting anything in return. But before you could follow that train of thought, Neil inserted a finger, and an unwanted cry rose in your throat.

“Jesus…” to stop yourself from being too vocal, you bit down harshly on your lip, bursting the barely sealed cut.

But Neil tilted your chin, meeting your gaze again.

“No need for that” he caught your lips in a short kiss “Don’t hold back”

Readjusting your hold on one of his shoulders, with the other hand you tugged on the tie you have messed up earlier. He took that as a cue to insert another digit. Too much.

“Christ, Neil” the breathless tone was a revelation even to you “You’re…” unable to finish the sentence, you moaned quietly.

Neil had no issues finding the perfect spot again, making you squirm and roll your hips, grinding down on that conveniently placed thigh. He thought of everything, it seemed. You did wonder how many times before he brought people to their downfall with those hands alone. But then, you would be lying if you would not admit that he had rather nice hands. And that you have not thought about this before Oslo.

“Glad it’s working, love” he commented upon a louder gasp from you.

For some reason, the nickname acted like a trigger. Feeling a surge of frustration, you bucked your hips against his, needing more.

“Don’t call me that” you spit the words out, relishing in the look of surprise in his eyes.

But he only needed a moment to shake it off before picking up the pace and curling his fingers inside you. Now it was close.

“What then?” Neil searched your eyes intently as though he was doing anything else but taking you apart with his two fingers and a thumb.

In response, you could only shudder, feeling your muscles tense in the anticipation of the near end.

“My love?” the proposition broke through the haze overwhelming your mind.

My god. Only with him, those two simple words could cause such an onslaught of feelings. There was something so achingly tender in his gaze that no matter the situation, your heart was set ablaze. He looked as though he was relieved to finally use those words. Suddenly, it was not just Neil lending you a helping hand in an hour of need. It was an act of love, further cementing your status as lovers. You were not sure whether it was that realization or what Neil has been doing to you that made the world explode before your eyes. Perhaps it was both. You only managed to breathe out a warning in the form of his name, but he understood.

“Look at me. I want to see what I did to you” he angled your chin again so you were forced to meet his gaze “So that I can remember this later” the husky whisper was the ultimate push over the edge.

Oh christ. You gripped his shoulder tightly and undid the tie, making it fall to the ground. Neil did not even notice, staring at you mesmerized. With the last bits of sanity, you took hold of his neck, bringing him close. The wave of pleasure made you tense up like a bowstring before you came with a shudder and a cry.

“Neil…” you got struck by the hope you saw in his eyes.

This time nothing was stopping you. No lips on yours to take over the words that were slowly choking you. The high he gave you took away all the inhibitions and worries. Neil was there, with you, a solid presence beneath your fingertips and an anchor to keep you from getting lost in your head. And that was enough.

“I love you” the three words were easy to utter for something you struggled to keep inside that long.

In response, Neil smiled and pressed his forehead against yours tenderly. The darkness in his eyes made way for pure happiness and conviction. Maybe this time it wasn’t a mistake.

“I know” he whispered and covered your lips in a sweet kiss.

Now that you were not holding back anything kissing Neil felt like absolution. You were never particularly religious, but he could be your eternal salvation, for the body and the soul. The only person you ever needed that much. 

Breaking the kiss with a sigh, Neil took a step back and retracted the hand that was still stroking your navel. You watched with a slight surprise as he glanced at a watch.

“Are you in a rush?” with cheeks burning, you took out a tissue and passed it to him.

He took it with a curt nod and cleaned his hand. As you observed him like that, with messed up hair, unbuttoned collar, and slightly flushed cheeks, the reality of the situation started dawning on you. Not only have you allowed Neil to finger you in a dirty alley, but also you have confessed your feelings in the heat of the moment. And yet, he was still there…

“Unfortunately, yes, the meeting is in ten, and I still have to get there” Neil picked up the tie from the ground and brushed off the dirt “Trust me, I’d love to continue with this…” carelessly he tied the knot and took a step closer again “But we should leave something for the future too” with playful sparks in his eyes he brushed the hair away from your eyes.

Oh my god.

“Can’t you for once… not do this” sighing heavily, you focused on readjusting the underwear and zipping up your pants.

Everything was better than looking into those blue eyes.

“Where would be the fun in that” Neil buckled your belt, just as quickly as he undid it previously “I must admit that after this, I’m curious to see how you’ll react once I do it properly one day… with my mouth and then…” he trailed off, fingers brushing over your stomach once again.

“Neil… don’t” using your own power, you brushed your hips over his “Or you won’t make it to that meeting” you glanced at his crotch knowingly.

“As tempting as that is… I’d rather not disappoint TP” with a final caress of your side, he took a step back again “Don’t worry about me though. I’ll deal with this later” he adjusted the trousers slightly “I’m used to it” the hint of a smile was enough to help you understand.

You gaped. It was hard to think straight again. Surely…not? Right?

“You- what? Because of me?” you stuttered, bewildered and perplexed.

“Yes, absolutely” Neil shrugged and attempted to smooth his hair “Pretty often, but then you’re quite the inspiration, my love” he winked, enjoying your sudden paralysis.

Now that sort of image was bound to keep you up at night. For some reason, you never thought that he would think about you like that, always assuming there were better fantasies to use in need. But maybe… maybe he had it just as bad as you did.

“I have to run” Neil kissed you on the cheek, bringing your mind back to the present moment.

“Does this… change anything?” you met his gaze, hoping he will catch on to the meaning.

“No, not at all” the soft smile contrasted the recent conversation tone “I’ll text you later”

“You better” you mirrored his smile, watching him disappear in the crowd.

Wow… Now that was an interesting walk. Sighing, you rested your head against the brick wall for a few minutes longer, trying to level your breathing.

*** You were not given much break from Neil that day. To clear your head, you went for a walk around the city centre, visiting curious shops, and spending time in a cosy café. Just anything that did not have to do with the blonde bastard was good enough to shut up your rebelling brain. After all, now he knew everything, and that was a dangerous situation. You did your best to ignore your phone for most of the day however when it buzzed on your way back to the apartment it was hard to resist checking. He did text just as promised:

“Did you miss me?” and then “I’ll have some news for you all later”

Maybe things, in fact, have not changed…

“Maybe a little” smiling, you keyed in the code to the door.

Inside, you quickly settled on the sofa with some indulgent crisps, about to tune into the team’s favourite Estonian soap ‘Õnne 13’, which you all watched every evening. It was terribly boring (especially when one did not understand a single word), and yet after a few days, you wanted nothing but to know what Alma will have for dinner that night. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

The latest dose of drama from the shithole called Morna got interrupted by your phone ringing. Neil, of course. Ignoring the offended stares from the other eight people in the room, you picked up the phone:

“Hey”

“Evening, my love” you could hear how happy he was to use those words.

Your heart summersaulted, making you exhale.

“I like the sound of that” grinning you walked out into the corridor to hide from the curious looks.

“Me too. Is everyone there with you?” jumping straight into the business was probably good for you both.

“Yeah. You’ve interrupted our shitty soap” at your adjective, a choir of outraged voices rose in the living room.

“My bad. Can you put me on the speaker? I could give you a run over the plan”

“Of course,” you motioned for everyone to gather around the table and put your phone in the middle “You’re on”

“Okay, so basically TP wants to take over the plutonium piece that is being transported through Tallinn in three days on its way to a nuclear depot in Italy. The point is not to let it get into Sator’s hands who thinks we’re cooperating with him”

“How will it be transported?” Ives propped his chin on his hand, listening intently.

“Reinforced truck with police escort front and back. Tracked via GPS” leaning back in the chair, you listened to Neil’s voice “Any unplanned stop or different turn and in come the reinforcements”

“What’s his plan then?”

“I believe he wants to take it out on the move with the use of a fire truck. Among others”

The hint of a smile in that sentence made you comment:

“So, you’re not the only crazy one around” earning a few amused grins from the people around, you briefly felt victorious.

Briefly.

“Something tells me you’re into that. Judging by what you let me do to you in that alley”

Fuck. A sharp gasp you let out made everyone turn to look at you. Gripping the edge of the table, you wanted nothing but to disappear. Or die. All the blood drained from your face as you stammered.

“Neil- you-” there was not enough air in the room “I-”

Wheeler shot you a worried look after you let out a small choking sound and spoke:

“Anyway…  why are we needed?” the professional tone made everyone turn their attention back to the mission.

You had to thank her later for saving your dignity. And life.

“To be on hand if things get dirty. I’ll send you the brief now it lists the details of his plan” Neil resumed the topic as though nothing happened “Tomorrow, I’ll call to let you know what exactly I need. That’s it for tonight, enjoy your evening”

Before anyone could make a move, you snatched your phone from the table and muttered:

“You’re dead”

You ended the call and stormed off to your room, slamming the doors. You could not believe his audacity to say something like that with everyone on the receiving end. The bastard ought to pay for that. Unable to calm down, with hands shaking violently and your head in absolute disarray, you grabbed the coat and made beeline for the exit out of the flat. It was pretty late for a solitary walk, but you hardly had anything to lose. Before you could make a swift exit, Ives’ stopped you with a hand on the arm. You met his gaze with impatience:

“So… how was the alley?” while he kept his face straight, the amused tone was there.

Bloody men.

“Fuck off” you shook off his hand and opened the door “I’m going out, and hopefully I’ll get killed. Don’t wait up”

Before you slammed the door in his face, you heard the parting words:

“Have fun”

The cold Estonian breeze was a welcomed sensation for your tired and thoroughly pissed off mind. You put up the hood of your coat and wandered off into the night.

*** Unfortunately, no one was willing to kill you. Around 1 am, you grudgingly made your way back to the apartment, relieved when no one was around to corner you. Once you were safe in your locked bedroom, you took out the phone for the first time in three hours. Unsurprisingly there were two missed calls and three texts from Neil, plus one message from Wheeler. She was checking whether you were still alive, which was a rather touching gesture, and so you replied to her first. Then, sighing heavily, you went through the texts from Neil:

“I’m sorry” then “But I wasn’t entirely wrong, was I?” and finally, “Are you alright?”

That son of a bitch…

“You’re so going to pay for this” you typed back and lied down on the bed. He was quick to reply, which meant he stayed up. Potentially waiting for you to reach out. Talking about confusing signals…

“I was hoping you’d say that” you groaned.

“After that disaster of a meeting, I went for a walk. Found a perfect spot for murder in cold-blood. You won’t even know what hit you”

Maybe that will do the job.

“You did. Only a lot earlier than you think”

It didn’t. Sighing, you cursed your inability to leave him on read.

“I’ve had enough of you today, g’night”

“I seriously doubt that, but good night, darling” and then “I hope your dreams will be as good as our little moment”

That surge of frustration was only made worse when you found a stray short blonde hair on your blouse while changing for bed. The idiot not only had your heart, but everything else too, it seemed.

[mmvalentine]

Home is Where You Are pt 6 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. Is that even relevant anymore? Idk, have some more fluff. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Rhys didn't know what that girl had dreamed that night. One moment they were living their perfect little domestic life and the next she was walking around the house in barely-there shorts and stealing any shirt he left out for too long. It was enough to drive a man mad.

About a week of this had gone by, with Rhys just barely clinging to his sanity, when Feyre made home made ice cream.

"Scary movie, chocolate ice-cream," she said. "All I really want out of life." They piled onto the couch, and Feyre threw a blanket over them. She put the movie on, but Rhys didn't even know what they were watching because he was trying not to stare at the way Feyre's tongue was moving over the ice cream cone. After she had eaten the entire thing, she looked over at him.

"What are you staring at?" she asked. "You have chocolate all over your face,"he said. "I don't even know how you made that much of a mess." She licked her lips. "No, the other side." Her little pink tongue darted out again. "No, still there." Feyre huffed and leaned forward. "Help me then," she said.

Rhys hesitated, and then reached out. Using his thumb, he carefully wiped the ice cream off the corner of her mouth. "All better," he said quietly. "Let me see," Feyre said. He held up his thumb. She rolled her eyes. "There's not that much, you exaggerate," she said. Then she took his hand in hers, and put his thumb in her mouth.

Her tongue flicked over the pad of his finger, and she sucked the ice cream off before she released him. The thought of her mouth around any part of his anatomy had him on fire.

"Are you okay?" Feyre asked him. Rhys just nodded. Feyre tilted her head to one side, her face lit up unevenly by the screen in front of them.

"Sometimes," she said, "I think you look at me like I'm something very fragile." "That's... not what I'm thinking." "It's not?" Feyre asked. "Because I think you feel like you have to protect me from every big bad thing in the world. Even you." "I'm sorry. I just want you to be okay," Rhys said. Feyre smiled the most beautiful smile. "I am okay, Rhys. I am really, truly okay. Will you worry a little less?" Rhys touched her chin. "I'll try." "Good. Then, let's go out tomorrow night." "Out?" Rhys asked. "Yes, we never go out." "Where do you want to go?" "Let's go to a bar like normal people." "Okay." "It's a date," Feyre grinned, and then settled back to watch the movie.

The next night, Rhys found himself in a bar for the first time in months. Years, maybe. What the hell did he used to do before Feyre lived with him?

Feyre ordered their drinks, and the squeezed through the crowd to look for a table. There was a live band playing that night, and the place was packed. They ended up standing off to the side, after failing to find a seat. Feyre leaned back against him.

"There are so many people!" she said. "Don't get lost!"

"Hello everyone," the lead singer was saying. "Happy Friday night, thanks for coming out!"

"He looks so familiar," Rhys said into Feyre's ear. She grinned. "Oh yes," she said. "You know him." Rhys squinted up at the stage. "Cassian?"

"This first song goes out to a very special lady, who does not love me back." The singer grinned at the crowd. "Anyway we're the Illyrians, and this song is called Nesta."

Rhys stared, and Feyre laughed. "We went to primary school with those guys!" Rhys said, raising his voice over the music. "Yeah!" Feyre yelled back. "I ran into them because Cassian's been chasing after Nesta for months now. He told me they play here every Friday night. Look at the bass player, it's Azriel." "Holy hell, it is. Should we try say hi afterward?" "No!" Feyre said. "Just enjoy it. Dance with me!"

And so Rhys did.

At the end of the evening, Rhys and Feyre had to sprint home. They started out strolling, but a sudden downpour had them running for cover. It stopped as soon as it had started, but they were already drenched through.

Feyre opened the door laughing, and Rhys half fell over her. They stripped off their sodden coats, and Feyre scraped her hair off her face. She hopped up onto the kitchen counter, and pointed a toe at Rhys.

"You gotta help me pull my boots off," she said, still laughing. "What am I, your manservant?" Rhys asked, even as he grabbed a hold of her heel. "Christ woman, did you glue these things on?" Feyre laughed again as he got one shoe off and made a grab for the other one, while toeing his own shoes off. "Beauty is pain, so they say," Feyre said. Rhys dropped the boot on the floor with a thud, and put his hands on the counter either side of Feyre. "Well then I don't know how you get out of bed in the mornings," he said. Feyre gasped. "Are you trying to tell me something, Rhysand?" "Only that your beauty astounds me daily." He grinned at her. "Shameless flirt!" she said. "Well you can tell me I'm beautiful too, and then we'll be even." "Bold words, for one whose hair is full of leaves," she said, flicking him on the nose. "It is not!" "It is, you ran through a low hanging branch on your way in."

To prove her point, she picked a small, green leaf out of his hair. Rhys frowned, and ran his hand over his head. "No, no," Feyre said. "You're not going to get it out like that." She pushed his head down, and started picking the leaves out herself. Rhys sighed and leaned into her touch.

"There," she said softly, "all gone." But she kept her hands in his hair, and when Rhys lifted his head they slid down around his neck.

At this proximity, he could get lost in the ocean of her eyes. She stared back at him, and her fingers moved to stroke over his lips. He shivered, and his hands twitched on either side of her legs. Feyre noticed, and since he didn't move, she picked up his hands and placed them on her hips.

"We... we've had a couple of drinks," Rhys said, even as his hands squeezed her. "Only one or two," she whispered. Her feet found the backs of his thighs, and tugged him in a little closer. "Still," he mumbled. "Maybe we shouldn't..." "Rhys," she whispered. "Not fragile, remember?" His hands floated up her sides and slid into her hair. "And this... this is what you want?" "This is what I want." "And you're sure it's not too soon?" "I'm sure you overbearing fool now kiss me already," Feyre said, and Rhys had his lips on hers before she had finished the sentence.

****

IS IT TIME FOR SMUT?!! YES I THINK IT IS.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @asteria-of-mars@booksmusicandgoodvibes @burritowithfeels

[vannahfanfics]

Harmony of Love

Category: Romantic Fluff, Family Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Kairi, Sora

Hey, everyone! I’m back again for Day 3 of @sokaiweek​, this time for the prompt “Melody”! I’m in the mood for baby lovin’ after babysitting some young-uns, so, enjoy this sweet kid fic!

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Kairi shushed as she hurried into the room, speaking over her baby’s frantic wails and sobs. She lowered the side of the crib so she could lean down and scoop up her daughter, holding her tenderly to her chest while she slowly rose up. “That’s it, that’s it,” she soothed while she patted her infant’s back. Her little hands pawed at Kairi’s nightgown, bunching the pink fabric in her chubby fingers to ground herself. Kairi bounced her up and down and twisted her body back and forth, and the baby’s loud wails finally settled into pathetic whimpers and sniffles. 

“That’s it,” she hummed, pulling back to gently push her daughter’s auburn curls out of her face. “Did you have a nightmare, my love?” Of course, her daughter couldn’t reply, but her wandering gaze and watery eyes were enough of an answer. “I know, my darling, my little Hikari. The world is scary, huh?” Kairi smiled, and her baby just warbled sadly. “I know. I have them too, sometimes. Someday I’ll tell you all about it… About the adventures of your father and I.” 

Hikari’s cheeks began to redden as she began to cry again, so Kairi began to tut over her pitiful cries.

“Don’t worry, my love, I’m here.” She guided Hikari’s head to rest on her shoulder, continuing to bob and swish and bounce on her way to the white rocking chair in the corner. “I’m here,” she murmured again while she sank down onto the lace-edged cushion. The wood creaked under her weight, and then the plush stuffing of the pillow relaxed to nestle her in comfort. 

“That’s it,” she said again when Hikari finally quieted down, resting against her body and looking up at her with those blue, blue eyes. She’d always thought Hikari had her father’s eyes, blue like the glittering ocean surrounding their island home. Of course, Sora always turned it around on her, saying that Hikari’s eyes were like Kairi’s, the brilliant azure of the sky. Really, Hikari’s eyes were just a representation of everything else she was— their beautiful baby, their perfect union, their gorgeous harmony of love. 

“Donna tokidatte, tada hitoride, unmei wasurete, iketekitanoni,” Kairi sang softly. She used her toes to begin gently rocking the chair back and forth. She stroked Hikari’s silky-soft strands of hair as she sang, smiling serenely, and her heart swelled as her daughter’s lips inched up into a smile of her own. “Totsuzen no hikari no naka megasameru, mayonakani.” 

Hikari cooed happily as Kairi leaned in to nuzzle her daughter’s nose with her own while she finished the verse. Kairi had known many joys in her life, but Hikari’s bubbly laughter was perhaps one of the greatest. Hikari’s cheek was as smooth as velvet as Kairi stroked it gently with her finger, appreciating the rosy hue of life flooding the skin. Hikari’s eyes gleamed as she watched her mother sing to her in a soft voice, those brilliant blues full of admiration and trust and reverence. It was a look Kairi would never tire of. 

“Shizukani, deguchini tatte, kurayami ni hikari wo ute,”  she continued, fingers skipping down from her daughter’s face to her little chest, where she tickled her. Hikari squealed before giggling loudly, prompting Kairi to laugh too because those sweet little laughs were just so infectious. She then rubbed Hikari’s belly to settle her back down, continuing to sing, “Imadoki yakusoku nante, fuan ni saseru dakekana, negai wo kuchi ni shitaidake sagasou kunimo, shoukai suruyo kitto umaku ikuyo…”

Finally, Hikari’s eyes began to drift shut. Her breathing evened out even as she fought to stay awake, but Kairi’s melody never failed to lull her daughter back into a restful sleep. Kairi leaned down to kiss her forehead, then sang against her skin, “Donna tokidatte, zutto futaride, donna tokidatte, soba ni irukara kimi to iu hikari ga watashi wo mitsukeru, mayonakani…”

Her voice drifted off into silence, and then the only sound was her daughter’s slow, even breathing. Kairi smiled, tears glittering in her eyes from the sheer amount of love welling up inside her, and then kissed her daughter’s head. Carefully, slowly, she stood up from the chair to walk back to the crib. She laid Hikari down on the plush cushioning and covered her with her baby blanket, then turned on the mobile with palm trees, paopu fruits, and seagulls above her head. A sweet tune began to play from the speakers as colorful lights danced across the plastic. Even after Kairi had pulled the crib’s bars back up, she stood at the side of the crib to watch her daughter sleep. 

She had no idea Sora had been standing in the doorway the whole time until he murmured, “I love it when you sing to her.” 

She looked over her shoulder with a sweet smile, then looked back to the slumbering Hikari. Sora’s steps were careful as he walked up behind her to wrap his arms around her middle and rest his chin on her shoulder, joining his beloved in watching their daughter sleep. “She looks like an angel,” he smiled, then turned into her neck to lovingly nibble at her skin. Kairi giggled at the ticklish caress, reaching up to play with his sleep-mussed hair, which was even spikier than usual. 

“You don’t think she’s much of an angel when you’re changing her diapers,” she joked, and Sora scrunched his nose up in disgust. Changing dirty diapers was an aspect of fatherhood that he was still adjusting to, but she couldn’t blame him; they were pretty stinky. Still, there were a thousand other things about his relationship with Hikari that made up for that. She loved watching him play with her when he gave her a bath, and the way he babbled to her in that sweet sing-song baby talk, and danced with her around the room until she was literally screaming with delight. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but whatever comes out of Hikari’s bottom is like toxic waste,” Sora smirked as he nuzzled further into her neck, giving her a squeeze. Kairi just laughed, because she kind of had to agree. “Still an angel, though, even if her diapers are stinky. Our perfect little angel.” 

“Our perfect little angel,” she echoed, and despite the circumstances, Kairi’s heart still fluttered at the word “our.” Even now, the idea that she was spending her life with this perfect man, that they had this perfect baby, that they had this perfect life— it just filled her with so much joy that she just had to let it out in the form of tears lest she explode. 

“Hey,” Sora crooned when he realized she’d started silently crying again. She sniffed as he turned her face so he could kiss the tears away, smiling all the while. “What is it?” 

“I’m just— I’m just so happy,” she laughed, knowing it was kind of silly but unable to help it. Sora would never laugh at her, though, not when he was a big ol’ crybaby himself. Purring, Sora turned her around in his arms so he could press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then to each of her cheeks, and then finally her lips. Then he looked at her with those deep blue sea eyes, those eyes like their daughter’s, those eyes full of so much love it was suffocating in the best way. 

“I’m happy too, Kairi. I”m so happy I can share this wonderful life with you,” he whispered. He grabbed her hands so he could entwine their fingers together, and then he brought him to his mouth so he could kiss those, too. She couldn’t help but laugh as she lavished her in affection, just like he always did. He was nothing if not full of love. 

“Donna tokidatte, tada hitoride, unmei wasurete, iketekitanoni,” he sang in a raspy, kind of off-key voice against her palm, making her snort in laughter. His eyes glittered as he continued to sing in that low voice, and it made her smile so hard that her cheeks ached a little. But like heck she was going to ask him to stop. As he sang the next verse, she sang with him: “Totsuzen no hikari no naka megasameru, mayonakani.” 

“Your voice is definitely prettier than mine,” he laughed, and she dropped her head with a snicker. When she looked back up, she pressed a kiss to his chin, making his smile widen. 

“I think you still did a good job,” she said, and he preened under her praise. She’d always had such a way of giving him a big head with just the simplest of words. Or maybe it was just every word she said was magic to him, the sap. Oh, but he was her sap, and she was kinda sappy for him, too. 

She wasn’t sure if it was the lullaby or just the fact it was the early hours of the morning, but Kairi’s eyes began to droop, too. Sora noticed, and promptly bundled her into his arms, making her jump up to wrap her legs around him. She showered his face in pets and kisses as he carried her out of the nursery back to their shared bedroom. 

Just as they were snuggling back into bed, Hikari’s shrill cries echoed through the house, and Kairi had to laugh at the futility of sleep. As she prepared to get back out of bed, Sora pushed on her shoulders to get her to lay back down. 

“But she won’t go to sleep without the lullaby,” she said as Sora slipped out of bed, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. 

“I know. I gotta practice, and besides, it’s push-and-pull, right? It ain’t fair if you do all the work.” 

“I think you just wanna get out of diaper duty tomorrow,” she teased, and Sora snorted in response. 

“Just go to bed,” he laughed while shoving a pillow into her face. Kairi rolled over, hugging the pillow to her chest as she rolled onto her side. She watched Sora walk off back down the hall, and as she melted gratefully into the bed, Hikari’s cries quieted. Soon, they were replaced with the soft voice of Sora singing, and Kairi’s eyes drifted shut with a smile. 

Our perfect little life, she thought again, and it really was. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[delos-mio]

First Thing To Go - DAY 1

DAY 1

Around dinner time and with a complimentary drink in hand, you took the elevator to the top floor. The Oceanfront Suite at the Four Seasons Maui awaited you and Kendra- two full weeks of what was supposed to be romance and relaxation. Now it seemed you wouldn’t be experiencing either. You made it to the grand white double doors of the suite and let yourselves in. 

The suite was enormous with a living and dining room, doors off to the side that led to a master bedroom with a canopied California king bed. The en suite had a jacuzzi with crisp, white his and her robes hanging beside it. Your mouth downturned and you quickly spun on your heel, eager to look at anything else. 

“Holy shit,” Kendra said with a whistle. “You guys were really gonna ball out.”

“Were,” you muttered and tossed your bag aside. 

“Sorry.” Her eyes were down before she turned to investigate the suite further. You shouldn’t have been so defensive, especially toward the one person who dropped everything to be there for you. But you couldn’t help the turning of the knife in your chest every time you were reminded of why you were originally supposed to be here. 

The room was ridiculous. There was a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon waiting for you with a card from the hotel. You flipped it open and read the obnoxious calligraphy inside:

Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Langford! From, your friends at the Four Seasons

Great. You really should have seen it coming by now. The hotel was under the impression this was your honeymoon, after all. 

“This balcony is sick!” You looked up and saw Kendra leaning on the glass wall, face turned up to the sun. You tossed the stupid card in the trash can on your way to join her. She was right- the view was absolutely breathtaking. There was pristine sand and cerulean ocean as far as the eye could see, the smell of salt and tropical flowers heavy in the air. You took a deep breath and stood next to Kendra. 

“I’m sorry for being shitty to you,” you said softly. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it.” She nudged you with her shoulder. “But I hope you do realize I’m not going to let you mope while we’re somewhere this fucking beautiful.”

You laughed and nodded in silent acquiescence. 

“Can I make a suggestion for our first order of business?” you asked with a playful turn of your lips. Kendra looked over with a raised eyebrow, urging you to go on. “I brought my medical card. Find a dispensary and order room service?”

“Ugh, so brilliant. Such a smart and thoughtful woman,” Kendra said, flashing you a devilish grin. 

—-

It hadn’t taken much work to find a provisioning center near the hotel. You and Kendra made quick work of the trip and returned to the suite, ordering enough food to clean out the kitchen. The sun was long since down and you were laid out in the sun loungers on the balcony, pleasantly high with a belly full of food, just looking up at the sky with Kendra. 

“It’s nice to see them for once,” you said. 

“Hmm?”

“The stars. Don’t really get to see much of them back home. Only if you go out over the lake.”

“Yeah, it’s really relaxing,” she agreed before letting out a long yawn. “I’m sleepy. I’m gonna go lay down- you staying out here?”

“Just for a little bit longer.” Kendra looked at you as she stood up, biting her lip with uncertainty. “I’m not going to jump if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She laughed as she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Just making sure. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night.” And with that, Kendra shut the balcony doors behind her, leaving you alone with the ocean breeze and half a blunt. 

The world was quiet out here- nothing like the constant roar of the city. Lake View was a wonderful neighborhood and one you loved dearly. But there was something about only being able to listen to the breeze rustling palm leaves that put you at ease. You didn’t really consider yourself a beach kind of gal, but perhaps you could see yourself becoming one. After the last 72 or so hours, a little quiet felt pretty good. Serene, even. Maybe Kendra really was onto something when she begged you to come out here. 

You lit the end and took another deep hit before closing your eyes and exhaling. 

“Ah, one of my favorite smells.” Your eyes snapped open and you gasped, totally unaware that anyone else was anywhere near you. You clumsily tried to snuff out the blunt, knocking over the ashtray onto the marble floor with a loud crack. “Oh shit,” you coughed and looked around trying to find the voice that had just spoken. 

“No need to stop on my accord.” The voice was deep and smooth, sultry even. There was a good chance you just made a total fool out of yourself while fumbling around in your inebriated state. You were still anxiously looking about when he added “On your left, darling.”

You spun and finally saw a feline smile on the face of a tall, undeniably gorgeous man standing on the balcony next to yours. He was tall and lean, all dark hair, beard, and eyes. Truthfully, he was textbook ‘your type’. But the minute that thought ran through your brain, you were already mentally berating yourself for even finding another person attractive just a day into what was supposed to be your honeymoon. He took a swig from a rocks glass and cocked an eyebrow. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about the smell traveling,” you said sheepishly. 

“Like I said, one of my favorite smells.” Like a good neighbor, you walked to the railing closest to him and offered out the blunt to him. “Sorry,” he said, raising a hand. Fuck, even his fingers were beautiful. “I’m down to only liquid vices these days, I’m afraid,” shaking around the ice in his glass for emphasis. 

“Ok…” You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but didn’t think it was appropriate to press a stranger for details. 

“I’m Logan, nice to meet you,” he said and stuck out his hand far enough that you could just barely brush the tips of your fingers against his as you introduced yourself. It was a completely awkward gesture, which seemed to greatly amuse Logan. 

“Likewise.” You put your feet back on solid ground and looked at Logan again. 

“So, are you here in a suite by yourself or is there a mister or missus with you?”

“Real smooth,” you laughed. 

“It’s just a question,” he said, tone laced with faux innocence. 

You stopped short and considered dumping everything that happened on him right then. “I’m here with my best friend, actually,” you said tersely. 

Logan narrowed his gaze as he looked you over. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I literally don’t know you, so yeah,” you laughed, trying hard to keep it casual. 

“Maybe that’s true,” he shrugged, “But it’s written all over your face. It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me.” He took another drink. “I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

“Ok, lay it on me,” you said, almost baiting Logan, and leaned on the railing with your chin resting in your palm. 

“I checked out of a rehab in Malibu last night. My shrink told me it’d be better for me if I slowly worked my way back into the real world and suggested I take a little to myself before getting back to work and my family. Life in general, I guess,” he shrugged. 

You didn’t know the man, that was certain, but you didn’t expect him to say that. Or to be so honest. You were really starting to feel bad for getting high right next door to him. “Wow, I...I’m so sorry for smoking next to you.”

Logan just laughed and waved you off. “You have nothing to apologize for, darling. Besides, you literally didn’t know me, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him quoting your own words  back at you. “Very funny.” You looked down for a minute before taking a long breath and exhaling. “And how’s the ‘time for yourself’ thing going? Is it scary,” you asked. 

“So far, so good,” Logan said, clearly considering how it was actually going. “I’ve been clean for 94 days now, so my cravings aren’t as strong. I mean, I still want to use, don’t get me wrong. But it’s nowhere near as intense. And what’s not to like about being in paradise?” He was grinning, despite the weight of what he just told you. It was admirable, you thought. 

“This was supposed to be my honeymoon,” you said abruptly. Why you decided to tell this stranger, you didn’t really know. But it felt like it would be ok to share it with Logan. Besides, you’d probably never see the dude again- who cares if he knew?

“Pardon me?”

“This,” you gestured broadly at your balcony and room, “I’m supposed to be enjoying my honeymoon right now. But as I already told you, I’m here with my best friend. Like, my actual best friend. Not the ‘oh I’m so glad I’m marrying my best friend’ best friend. And not a husband. Don’t have one of those.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said with a small frown. 

“He packed up all his things, told me there was someone else, and left me two days before our wedding.” You let out a sad chuckle, using all your might to fight back the tears you knew wanted to form in your eyes. “So, yeah. Guess we’re both kind of bummers, huh?”

“For what it’s worth,” Logan started, leaning in closer over his ledge, “I think the guy’s a fucking douche bag for leaving you. I know we don’t know each other very well, but you seem delightful. Not to mention you’re fucking gorgeous.” 

“You’re seriously going to hit on me when I just told you I was supposed to get married yesterday?” you scoffed. 

“What am I supposed to say?” he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow and checking you out from head to toe. “If I see a beautiful woman, I think it’s my duty to share that with her.” 

“You’re shameless,” you smiled and shook your head. It should have disgusted you. It should have turned you off and made you think Logan was a pig. But you couldn’t help but be just the smallest bit charmed. He was a flirt, and there was a little piece of you that was genuinely flattered. 

“I’ve been called worse,” he laughed. 

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said before looking back out over the ocean, hoping to hide the heat that was rising in your cheeks. 

“My pleasure,” Logan said with a smile. “So, the asshole left you high and dry and you went on your honeymoon with your best friend anyways?”

“To be fair, it was her idea.” You tugged at the ends of your hair, suddenly nervous that Logan would judge you. 

“I like her style.” He finished off his drink. “I can’t imagine there’s anyone else who deserves to be stoned in Hawaii more than you,” Logan grinned. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groaned. “So fucking embarrassing.”

“Nah. It’s cute. You’re cute.” His voice was low and gravely, but playful. You felt a stirring in your stomach and knew you had to cut the conversation short while you were still ahead. 

“It’s late, I should probably go to bed before Kendra thinks I’ve done something stupid.” You meant for it to be a joke, but you realized you really didn’t want to worry her more than you knew she already did. 

“Wouldn’t want that,” he nodded. 

“It was nice talking to you. Thanks for letting me dump all my baggage on you,” you said, a tiny smile forming on your lips. 

“Any time, darling.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” As you said it, you realized you really hoped you would. 

“I sure hope so,” he said with a smirk.

“Goodnight, Logan.” You bit gently on your bottom lip and finally pushed away from the railing. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

You let yourself back inside and quickly got ready for bed. Talking to someone removed from the whole ordeal felt nice- someone who didn’t ask a million questions so you could just process what happened in its simplest terms. And Logan had proven to be thoughtful and a good listener. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Logan was ungodly hot. No, you scolded yourself. No thinking about Logan or anyone else like that for a long, long time. Once you’d crawled under the covers, you couldn’t stop the weight of sleep tugging at your eyelids, bringing with it dreams of a dark eyed prince. 

TAGGED: @fific7 @abroadcastofthemind @suchatinyinfinity

[mayraki]

“A mermaid’s tale”

jj x reader

not my gif! credits to the owner.

summary: you managed to keep your secret safe. until a boy gets in danger and you have to save his life.

note: I recently watched the old show h2o just add water and I wanted to do this for my young self. If you haven’t watched that iconic show just DO IT. some of you may think this is childish but I don’t give a fuck. hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Having to hide a secret like this wasn’t easy. Especially if you were surrounded by the thing that would make you grow a giant tail; water. Yes, you were a mermaid. Not like the ones you saw in movies, were it had white eyes and ugly skin, and would make men go into their deaths. It was just you, with a tail coming out of your waist. It was a beautiful color of dark orange and it would go perfectly with a bra that would come out as well.

You had to deal with this since you were twelve years old on your old town. When just a funny joke about going to investigate this scary island, turned into what it would be the rest of your life.

From that moment on, it was you against the world. You couldn’t trust anyone with something like this. Not even your own parents, you didn’t know what it could happen to you if they found out. Maybe end up dissected, or a scientific project. You didn’t want to found out.

So you kept it a secret. Wasn’t easy, but you managed to keep this magical thing that has happend to you all to yourself. Sometimes it felt like it was too much, and you needed to talk about it and have someone to go for help when you needed it. Little did you know, this was going to change after an awful accident in your new town, Outer Banks.

Your dad got a new job as a fisher man and you had to move and leave the place that was your home. Where it started all. But you had no choice, and start a new life.

You had to be honest, carrying a thing like this to a new place was eating you inside. You were extremely nervous. On your last home, you knew all the beaches and the ones that were less populated. Where you could go and dive in with no one watching you. You had a place to escape. But you didn’t knew anything about this Outer Banks, and that, made you terrified.

You saw the welcoming sign and you sighed. Let’s see how this goes.

~

You promised yourself to not go into the water until you knew it was safe. Every day was a beautiful one, the sun was shining and you couldn’t wait to turn into a mermaid again and investigate this new waters. But you didn’t knew the places people took their botes, where people fished, so you had no choice and keep yourself away from the ocean.

You learnt a lot since you came here. The were two sides, the figure eight, where the rich people were. And the cut, where the ‘normal’ people where. You thought where you stood, and after having an awful conversation with an arrogant rich kid, you thought that they weren’t your people, so you decided to stay and hang out at the cut.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go for a swim on the beach?” Your mom said with a smile. “Maybe you can meet some people there and make some friends.”

You nodded with a smile and saw the opportunity to investigate the beaches. There was some of them that you still haven’t visited yet. You knew your mom was letting you go and miss work with your father because she wanted you to make friends. But you were a loner. Back in your old town, you had one friend. But after she moved out, you didn’t want to make any new. You had this new life and you had to learn how to control the powers you had before letting anyone in your life. That’s when you became a loner and figure it was going to make it easier keeping the secret if you were alone.

As soon as your feet touched the sand you closed you eyes enjoying the air that was blowing in your face. You were far from the tourists and the surfers, far from everyone. You walked into some rocks and let your back rest on a big one. You looked at your surroundings and smiled when you noticed no one was around. You wanted to go into the water so much that you couldn’t control your smile and the happiness you were feeling.

The water got close to you feet when the ocean moved and you let your feet play with the sand. You were about to walk into the water but some voices behind you stopped you. Three guys where walking towards the water with surfing boards next to their bodies. You sighed and then walked backwards, to avoid any water touching your skin.

You sat down on the sand far from the edge of the ocean and you watched the guys leaving their surfing boards on the water and getting on top of them. You remembered the way the water would hit your face and you smiled. You missed it so much. But you couldn’t, not until it was safe.

You got lost in your thoughts and the memories, that you didn’t noticed the boys were out of the water and some steps away from you. You noticed the drops of water dripping from their bodies and a sudden waive of panic came into your body. You got up quickly and that made you lose a little bit of balance, making you take a step forward and ending more closer to one of the guys.

The guy that you had in front of you turned his head to you and furrowed his eyebrows when you took a step backwards in full panic.

“Are you ok?” He asked taking a step closer to you but you walked backwards.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded with a smile and then turned away, walking away from the beach.

~

The next day was cloudy and you smiled to yourself when you saw the sky on your window. Clouds meant less people on the beach, and less people on the beach meant more time for you to enjoy a good swim.

You walked to the beach you went yesterday and you smiled when you noticed there was no one around. There was rain coming, and the waves were more stronger and going on a faster speed than the day before. Those were totally not good waves to surf... meaning, no surfing boys.

You ran to the rocks you were at yesterday and you took the moment to appreciate the feeling. You loved the moments before going into the ocean, that feeling of something great was coming. You took a sept forward and the water touched your feet. You smiled and then ran deeper into the ocean before lifting your arms above your head and going full body into the ocean.

Ten seconds later, you felt a tingling feeling in your legs and a full mermaid tail appeared. You smiled and a wave of happiness went through your body.

You swam and you swam. You missed it so much that you didn’t know how much time had passed since you came into the water. Your hair was doing beautiful waves when you moved and you enjoyed the feeling of it touching your face. You went into the bottom of the ocean and touched the sand, wich it went upwards and you started to play with it.

You looked up and you noticed it had started to rain. You went to the surface and you felt the rain drops touch your head. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, when you heard someone go into the water. Your heart started to beat faster and you wanted to go away swimming, but the fact that you still didn’t know the waters, you didn’t know where you could end up. So you swam into the rocks and hide behind them.

You sighed and cursed at the wind for your ruined moment. You watched the guy stand on his surfing board and you furrowed your eyebrows. What he was doing was extremely dangerous. But it seemed like he knew what he was doing and he was good at it. You watched his every move and you found yourself get lost in his moves, but then he fell from his board and you lost him in the waters.

He didn’t came back up after going into the water and a wave of worry came into your body. You could see his board but he was nowhere to be seen. That’s when you saw him far away from his board and deeper into the ocean. His head was going up and under the water. The waves were throwing him down and deeper into the ocean. He was going to drown if someone didn’t helped him. You looked around and no one was near the beach. Not even on the street. There was not other choice, you had to save him.

Without hesitation, you quickly swam to him and you saw his body trying to go up into the surface. He couldn’t see you, so you turned to his board and you moved your hand, making the water move and the board go close to the boy. You saw him grab it but the waves were too strong that they were pushing him away from it. So much, that the board went away and you lost it into the ocean.

The guy was now struggling even more and he wasn’t able to stay up in the surface. You had to get closer to him and have a better view of him. As deeper as you got, the water was pushing you away and you couldn’t swim to him. You moved your hand and you tried to keep the water around you more calmly. When you were closer to him, luckily, he was looking the other way and you stopped controlling the water around you so you could push him into shore, but as soon as you stopped, the water went wild. You took control of it again and it stopped. You had to grab him and get him into the calm circle of water you had created around you. He was going to see you, but if you wanted to save him, it was a risk you had to take.

As you started to swim to him, the water made him turn to you and as soon as he layed eyes on you, he widen his eyes with surprise and fear at the same time. You moved closer to him and grabbed his arm, making him get next to your body and pulled him into the surface.

You used your strength and swam with him to the shore. Your body touched the sand and you noticed the boy coughed a few times and got up quickly watching you and your tail with panic.

“What the fuck, man?!” He asked in panic. He didn’t know what to do. He was still processing the fact that he almost drowned and a mermaid just saved his life.

“You can’t tell this to anyone!” You said to him.

“You can talk?” He asked surprised but with the same tone of panic on his voice. He felt like he was going insane.

“Promise me you won’t tell!” You said again.

He stood there and then nodded after calming himself a little bit.

You locked eyes with him and you turned around using your arms, you didn’t want to face the fact that a boy just saw you as a mermaid, and you made yourself go into the water once again.

~

You opened your eyes and you prayed that the memories of the day before were just a nightmare, but unfortunately, it was all true. You got up from your bed and watched the sun shine through your window.

You decided that you had to talk with that boy and be sure he was going to keep your secret. There was no way you could escape from that.

“What are the plans for today?” You mom asked you when she handed you a cup of tea.

“I’ll probably go to the beach.” You said with a smile and took a sip from your mug.

“Great! But don’t be late this afternoon. We are helping your dad with what he caughts.” You nodded and once you finished your tea, you got change and headed to the beach you were yesterday.

You sat down and waited for the blonde boy. You didn’t knew where to look for him, so the beach was the only option for now.

After a couple of minutes, you saw him walking with a girl. They were talking playfully and you walked up to them. Once you were closer, the girl locked eyes with you and gave you a little smile. The boy turned to you and once he remembered you, he took a step back and widen his eyes.

“JJ, are you ok?” The girl asked concerned after watching the boy.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said quickly and then tried to keep himself calmly and not look suspicious.

“Hey, can we talk?” You asked him and after hasitating, the guy called JJ nodded.

“I’ll see you later, then.” The girl gave you two a final smile and then walked away.

“If you want to know I haven’t told anyone.” JJ said quickly and you sighed in relieved.

“Thank you.” A smile appeared on your face.

“Well, you did saved my life. I owe you that.” He locked eyes with you but then moved to your legs.

“I know you have a lot of questions.” JJ nodded looking back at you. “You can ask, but I need you to promise me that you’ll never say anything about this. No one knows.”

“No one?” He asked surprised and you shook your head. “Your parents?”

“No, only me.” He nodded and then took a time to think. “You promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be here, so...” he let out a little smile and you looked down. You didn’t know that to say, you haven’t dealt with anyone knowing your secret so this was new for you and you couldn’t find the right words.

You always panicked when your secret was in danger, but for some reason, there was feeling inside of you telling your that could trust him. Even if you two just met. He seemed the type of person to care about people and you liked that.

And not to mention he is kinda cute.

Wait... did I just thought that?

“How about, we go to a more private place?” JJ asked when a couple of surfers walked into the beach.

You nodded. “Where?”

“I know the perfect place, c’mon.” He turned around and you followed him.

“My name’s Y/n, by the way.” You said with a smile and he locked eyes with you. Your stomach turned and you got confused at your body’s sudden reaction.

“Nice to meet you, I’m JJ.” He handed his hand for your to shake and you took it with a smile.

Maybe, this was the start of something good.

***

PART 2

I swear, my ten year old self is so excited right now. I’m thinking I could do a short series...🤔 let me know if you liked it and if you want a part two!

[rosie-are-roses]

Movie Review: Josee, the Tiger and the Fish.

Posted on September 11, 2021.

“Grandma, the world isn’t scary at all.” - Josee. 

 YO, HOLY SH*T, IT’S BEEN MORE OR LESS 4 YEARS SINCE I LAST POSTED.

God, reading my old reviews just brings me back my past memories. A lot of things has happened, and somehow my coping mechanism has kind of fully switched from writing to drawing, because I’ve became illiterate lazy and unmotivated, a lot of bad things has happened the past 4 years. I’m now on the 7th semester or final year of my college. Okay, I will stop here, no one wants to know about your pathetic and uninteresting life, writer.

So, on the very beginning of September 2021, I decided to watch Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, originally just to listen to Ao no Waltz, one of the OSTs of this movie (Please listen to it I’m begging, it’s a masterpiece: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pyDCubgU57g) my all time favorite song, sung by Eve, the Great Amazing Eve. I didn’t expect the movie to be THIS good! Why and how? I will tell you!

It’s a light melodrama movie, but once the tragedy or main conflict happened it’s kinda depressing lmao, but there’s a rainbow after rain. I cried a lot too, prepare a lot of tissues, really! Overall, my rate is 10/10, it’s REALLY worth a watch. The animation is TOP TIER (Of course, it’s Studio Bones after all, the same studio who did My Hero Academia, I was amazed throughout watching, the visuals are outstanding, the OSTs are beautiful, everything about it is stunning. Definitely in my top 5 anime movies, not higher than Spirited Away and Howl’s Moving Castle, though.

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish is an anime about the bond between a marine biology student and a (disabled) paraplegic women. It is directed by Kotaro Tamura from a screenplay by Sayaka Kuwamura, with original character designs by Nao Emoto, released on big screen on December 25, 2020.

That’s Josee! Pretty, right? TMI: I LOVE her voice, kudos to whoever her voice actress is. (It’s Kaya Kiyohara, by the way.)

Josee, paraplegic from born, on a wheelchair since born, never really came out from her house because her grandmother always told her that the world is a scary place, so for a 24 years old, she has a pretty childish and spoiled personality. She’s beyond demanding, but Tsuneo never lost his patience dealing with her (Yo, that’s a good husband material right there.), he has always been so supporting to Josee. Tsuneo, a final year marine biology student who dreams of studying abroad and diving in tropical waters, (He is struggling with part-time jobs and final research paper, and I can relate! Because I’m also struggling with internship and college final project!), he is a dream student and husband, he has good grades, he also got a scholarship study abroad in Mexico. His job is also going pretty fine. He has nice and supportive friends. 

Sounds nice right? 

Until he got run over a girl on a a wheelchair who lost control over it, freefalling on a downhill road. Don’t worry, they both are fine, no injuries and such. And kids, that’s how I met your father. That was their first meeting. Tsuneo offered to walk her home because as he should! You men has to have basic manner! After reaching Josee’s home, he was greeted by Josee’s grandmother, Kumiko, her one and only guardian, and was offered a dinner. Josee couldn’t refuse and decided to take her offer. They had a good dinner, but Josee doesn’t like him, she talks to Tsuneo in a rude tone so Tsuneo wondered what is wrong with this girl?! 

Anyway, Tsuneo shared that he is struggling to find another job to pay his bills, so grandma Kumiko offered him a well-paid job, and that is to babysit be Josee’s servant, who has to accompany her and listen to all of her demands. Josee is really demanding, so it was a tiring job for Tsuneo. He kept ranting to his friends at work, Mai and Hayato, that he couldn’t stand Josee!

One day, Josee felt the need to go out and go to places, she needed to see the outside world inside of being trapped in her room full of drawings about oceans. She wanted to see the ocean, so they made sure grandma Kumiko was sleeping and quietly took Josee outside. They went to many places together. The aquarium, the zoo, the recreation park, and had so much fun. She went to the ocean and felt the saltiness of the ocean water because she never got to experience it since both of her parents died. She has always been stuck drawing in her room, only imagining what is it like outside, is it really scary like her grandma described? Turns out it isn’t like that at all.

That until a really depressing tragedy happened to both Josee and Tsuneo (What is it? I won’t give any spoilers.) It’s so depressing that Mai, one of Tsuneo’s friends who got a crush on Tsuneo (Let’s be real, who wouldn’t.) told Josee to stay away from Tsuneo and free him, because since Josee came into his life, his peaceful life has went downhill. Josee was a pretty selfish girl, I must say. But there’s always a room for development and change, right?  All of you will find her annoying in the beginning and maybe until the end, but she got a good character development in the end. I can’t decide if I want to have a Tsuneo or Josee, both are good characters.

Then how did Tsuneo fall in love with Josee? You’ll have to find it out by watching it, the movie is available on Netflix.

This movie basically tells you to go on with life and not give up after falling into the deepest pit of nightmares, to still have and chase your dreams despite having limitations. It’s so healing and heart-warming to watch on a pandemic like this. Tsuneo is such a patient, good and loyal man. Josee, an inspiring and tough women. Both suits each other, I’d say. (Although I was team Mai at first.) They both inspire and support each other to live their dreams, a sweet heart-warming love story.

Not to mention, the OSTs are sung by The Great Eve: please give Shinkai and Ao No Waltz a listen, it’s my top 2 favorite Eve music, I always listen to it whenever I’m sad, I was at a war with myself and found peace on these songs.

So, what are you waiting for! Go watch it!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The Raven; Let Loose

Part 2 of the 1000+ follower milestone! A continuation of the Raven lore outlined in part 1. I believe I will have a few more parts coming out shortly, just to solidify the Raven and Jade lore—and, I suppose, to make up for the lack of events for previous milestones (600, 700, etc.).

Today, we have the Raven’s introduction to Night Raven College! It’s a bit longer than my usual works, so it will be censored under a cut. Please enjoy~

The raven stares into a full-length looking glass. Whoever stares back at them is practically a stranger.

Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?

A short girl with milky skin and long hair as dark as the night, swept over one shoulder, wears a perplexed expression. Their amber eyes appear even sharper than they typically are, no thanks to the smoky shadow that lines the outer corner of their lids. They are dressed in long, black robes edged with an intricate gold pattern--the interior of the robe is violet and dotted with gold.

“You look rather fetching in those coveted ceremonial robes!” chirps a jolly voice. It belongs to a man bearing a crow mask, a top hat, and a dark cape--leaning on a walking stick. He taps a talon under the raven’s chin.

“...Wanna stay home,” they mumble, tugging on their hood. The raven’s words are terse, clumsy, and unpracticed. They are too used to cawing and the sounds of bird speak.

“Excellent orating! Before you know it, you will be speaking human as well as you can write it!” The man in the crow mask declares. 

“But...feels weird, Mister Dire.”

“No, no! I’ve told you before, have I not? Refer to me as your dear old Uncle Crowley!” he insists, waving a hand. “And you are...?”

“Erm...Raven. Raven Crowley,” they mutter, wanting to vanish into their hood. The have practiced the line so many times, but it still does not feel natural rolling off of their tongue. “Uncle’s...niece.”

“Correct!” He gives them a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’ll do just fine at the ceremony, my little black bird.”

“Scary...” The raven shivers and pulls their robes tighter around themselves. “I...I don’t want to...”

“Nonsense! You cannot keep roosting in the attic forever, toiling over those accursed storybooks of yours. It would do you some good to socialize--and I shan’t have the little bird I have taken under my wing wasting their life away on quill and ink!” Crowley shakes his head. “The time has come to set this raven loose on NRC.”

The raven stares doubtfully at their reflection.

“Let me give you a piece of advice--because I am so very, very kind. Words have power--but so, too, do actions. You must put yourself out there if you wish to change the course of your story, curse be damned.”

“I’ll...I’ll try.” The raven does not believe their own words.

“Very well. I shall see you at the Mirror Chamber, then.” Crowley turns on his heel and makes his way to the door.

“A-Ah...! P-Please wait for me...” The raven cries out, stumbling after the headmaster on unsteady feet, the fabric of their robes billowing out behind them.

“Oh, my apologies--I neglected to mention that you will be making your way to the chambers without my guidance!” Crowley tosses a mischievous grin over his shoulder. “After all, cuckoos must be pushed out of the nest if they should ever wish to fly. Spread your wings, my little raven--and enjoy your new school life!”

He gives a firm tap on the ground with his walking stick--and he vanishes in...a flash of light.

The raven’s stomach sinks, as though they have swallowed stones for breakfast. Vanishing in a flash of light--that would be their own fate if they did not tread carefully.

They sigh, shoving such ominous thoughts into the back of their mind. First thing’s first: make it to the ceremony in one piece, or else they shall never hear the end of it.

The raven throws open a window, then climbs onto the sill, hoisting themselves up and out. (Why did Crowley use the door? Windows are much more efficient for birds.) They tumble into the bushes.

The bird pops their head out and squints into the sunlight. By the Great Seven, the campus is positively teeming with students, all dressed in the same robes as them. The raven shudders at the thought of approaching any of them for directions.

They tuck their head into the bushes and begin to crawl, covered by the foliage. Unfortunately, the raven does not make it long before their path is blocked.

“Ohoh? What do we have here?”

The raven freezes--for young man with a blonde bob cut and emerald eyes has materialized before them.

“Bonjour--a bit early for a game of cache-cache, is it not?” He’s grinning, taking in the sight of a small bird curled up on the ground. “Ah, but more importantly, what is a lovely mademoiselle such as yourself doing in this den of lions?”

“...What?” The raven quirks an eyebrow at him. They have never heard such...strange, flowery phrases before.

“Ah, excuse moi!” His hands go up in the air. “You must be rather lost and confused, mademoiselle. Perhaps I may be of assistance?”

“N-No...I am okay...!” The raven insists, scrambling to their feet--their extensive vocabulary fails to make itself known in its trembling voice. Human language is...so difficult!

“...Mademoiselle.” The stranger’s eyes narrow, but the easygoing smile remains upon his lips. “That cadence with which you speak—it is reminiscent of the language of birds. Are you, perhaps, an animal given human form?”

Her flabbergasted expression confirms his suspicions. The young man breaks out into boisterous laughter and clapping.

“Fascinante~ I have a vested interest in wild life, you see!” he explains, circling the raven like a shark in the water. “I would like to observe more and more of you!”

“U-Um...I...I need to go...!”

But he has grabbed her arms by the elbows, roughly maneuvering them up and down. Her limbs flop around carelessly.

“Where are your wings, mon petit oiseau?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Surely you must be capable of advanced transformation magic in order to maintain your human form? Are you able to fly as you currently are? Will you not give me a demonstration?”

The barrage of questions, coupled with being grabbed, sets the bird into a panic.

“S-Stay awaaaaay!!” The raven screeches, wildly thrashing.

They manage to land a hit on the young man’s face, sending him stumbling backwards. The raven sprints as fast as her little legs can carry her, not caring who witnesses it.

“Mon petit oiseau!! Please return to me--I must witness it...! The beauty of your flight!” comes his pleading voice behind them, growing ever louder.

The raven dares to sneak a peak over their shoulder--and screams even louder. He’s dashing right after them at a breakneck pace, closing the distance little by little. His hood has flown off in all of the rush, his golden hair whipping across his face. Perhaps he would have been a prince in some fairy tale, if his eyes were not so feral and pulsating with perverted curiosity.

This is it, this is how I will die.

The raven wills itself to run faster--

--crashing straight into another student.

The raven feels themselves falling back, expecting the harshness of the ground, but instead, they are caught and righted at once.

“Oya, oya. Please, do mind where you are going, miss.”

This student, too, is wearing the ceremonial robes. Oh, and how tall he is. Skin like sea glass, wistful lips, and a handsome face framed by teal hair and a black lock--but his standout feature are his heterochromatic eyes, one verdant green and the other a deep gold, edged in violet makeup.

“Pretty...” the raven remarks, their voice trailing off.

“Pardon?” he quirks an eyebrow at the remark.

“Eyes.”

“Ah. I see--”

“Mon petit oiseau!”

Oh no. 

“P-Please help...!” The raven squeaks, ducking behind the tall student. They jab an accusatory finger at the fast-approaching blonde. “H-He is...he is scary!!”

The student regards them with the tilt of the head. “...I understand. Please, leave this to me.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur Mastermind...!” the blonde greets, having finally caught up. “The little bird you are guarding--kindly relinquish her to me, if you please!”

“Bird? Why, I do believe you are mistaken, Rook-san. She is a human through and through--a human that just so happens to be skilled in Animal Languages.”

“What?” The blonde--Rook?--frowns slightly. “Mon dieu, a human?”

“It is quite rude of you to make assumptions. See to it that you do not repeat such a careless mistake,” the tall student suggests. He smiles, but his tone has a bite to it. “You would not want Vil-san to learn of such a blunder, yes?”

“Ohoh. A fair point, Monsieur Mastermind. Cunning as always, I see.” Rook gives a light laugh and throws his hood up again, casting a shadow upon his face. “Very well, very well, I shall relent for today--my queen is expecting me.”

“I will see you at the ceremony, then?”

“Oui. Give Monsieur Kills for Thrills and Roi de Fort my regards~ And apologies for the trouble, mademoiselle!” Rook waves and disappears into a crowd of robed young men.

At last, the raven can breathe a sigh of relief. “Th-Thank you...erm. Mon...sure Mastermind?”

“Rook-san has a penchant for nicknames.” He chuckles into his hand. “I am Jade--Jade Leech. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, miss...?”

He glances at them expectantly, with those pretty eyes of his.

“U-Um...Uncle said...to wait until the ceremony for giving names.”

Jade’s eyes shift slightly as he takes in this new information.

“Ah, you must be the unusual student the headmaster warned us of. I presume you must have been on your way to the Mirror Chamber before Rook-san gave chase.”

“Y-Yes. Erm...but I do not know where to go.”

“Fufufu. It just so happens that I am on my way to the Mirror Chamber now. The opening ceremony is to start shortly.” Jade raises a hand, gesturing to the students around them. “All you need do is follow the others, like a school of fish in the ocean. However, if you are still feeling unsafe after your encounter with...Rook-san, I would be more than happy to escort you.”

“I-Is that...really okay?”

“It is no trouble at all.” He offers his hand and a reassuring smile. “It is only natural to lend aid to those in need, yes?”

And the raven, mesmerized by his eyes, accepts his hand--and they merge with the sea of robed students milling to the Mirror Chamber. Standing at the entrance is the headmaster himself, ushering young men in.

Crowley catches the raven’s gaze and beams--though his expression falls just as quickly once he registers who it is that towers over his niece. Jade notices, and releases the raven’s hand.

“...Jade Leech-kun.”

“Headmaster. Good day to you,” he greets with a small bow.

“Hmm.” Crowley’s beady yellow eyes stare right into Jade. “Thank you for delivering her to me. Now then--shoo. Join the remainder of Octavinelle.”

“As you wish.” Jade gives a small, polite wave before he heads inside.

The raven waves back shyly. Crowley tsks and whisks them away behind his feathered cloak. He mutters something under his breath about being too kind.

Within the Mirror Chamber, a certain octopus scolds Jade.

“Where have you been? It’s not like you to be nearly tardy.” Azul frowns, hands planted on his hips.

“Ehehehe~ Even I made it here before Jade today,” Floyd laughs, gnashing his teeth.

“My apologies. I was preoccupied with...networking,” Jade says with a slight bow.

“Well, it had better have been worth it,” Azul mutters under his breath. “We’ll need to be in the headmaster’s good graces if we wish to expand the Mostro Lou—“

“Ah-HEM! If I may have your attention please, everyone,” Crowley calls from the front of the Mirror Chamber.

Azul immediately snaps in attention—and Jade follows his gaze. Floyd, meanwhile, groans and rolls his eyes. Lame old crow.

“We have a special little guest joining us at Night Raven College starting this year! They are quite far from our usual demographic, so I ask that you be so very, very kind to them.” Crowley nods to the hooded figure hiding behind him. “Go on, then. Introduce yourself, my dear!”

He steps aside, exposing them to thousands of pairs of eyes. The raven shrinks back. Crowley sighs and gives them a slight nudge forward.

“A-Ah...u-um...I am...R-Raven. Raven Crowley. Uncle’s niece. P-Please...take good care of me.”

Murmurs fill the room. Some students are expressing shock that the headmaster even has relatives, others are questioning the enrollment of a female student at an all-boys school.

“Oya?” A chuckle escapes from Jade’s lips. He leans over and whispers to his dorm leader. “Azul, that is the one.”

“Is that so? Mm, this is highly unusual,” Azul notes, tucking a hand under his chin. “But...if she is related to Crowley-sensei, it would behoove us to charm her. She can put in a good word to the headmaster for Octavinelle.”

“Yes, she will be of great use to us in the future,” Jade agrees, his smile twisting into something...demented, jagged teeth on full display. “Then, shall I do the honors?”

“You really do think of everything, Jade. By all means, be my guest. See to it that the little bird is...fond of us, of you. Either works.”

“Fufufu. But of course--I live to serve.”

“Well, I’m bored and hungry” Floyd complains, interrupting the two. He slings his arms around his brother and Azul. “Let’s grab some grub after this booooring ceremony...!”