#my brain library only has so much space and its all getting taken up by httyd

[lilliths-httyd-blog]

that thing about how its okay to know nothing about your hyperfixations, special interests etc is so true because i couldn't tell you shit about marine life but boy howdy do i think shrimp are poggers. my boy bigfinsquidlengthcock1998 over here may be a whole library of knowledge about the complex behavioral patterns of the yellow-edged moray eel but i just think northern pike are pretty gender ya feel? my knowledge of marine life is mostly summed up by being able to name and identify imagery of all the different species like collecting pokemon.

[bcyhoods]

lovefool — “you’re welcome to stay, if you want” w eddie!!

librarian!reader is always calling my name so i needed to do something before i combusted | 1.1k fem!reader

Eddie’s got his feet propped up on the study table and his chair teetering on its hind legs. The dull sound of his rings tapping the hardcover in his hands fills the immediate space. Despite the fact that he’s actually read this particular horror novel at least thrice before, today it only serves as bookworm-ish guise.

The boy aimlessly flicks through the pages, eyes reflexively leaping over entire paragraphs to peak over at the reception desk. With each glance, he feels his heart start racing, his stomach starts flipping. And it has nothing to do with Stephen King, everything to do with you.

You’re sitting behind the polished wood with a pair of deep auburn-colored reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. Every so often, they slide down and prompt you to scrunch the muscles in your face and wiggle them back up. Whenever you ultimately give up and push them back into place with your finger, Eddie smiles to himself.

The pair of you have spoken quite a handful of times, but it only took Eddie seconds within that first interaction to be smitten. You’d worn a pretty color on your lips, an even prettier smile behind it. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the tower of Tolkien novels he’d placed in front of you to check out, then you’d complimented his taste, then his hair. Then as if to seal the deal, you reached underneath the desk to retrieve a flimsy bookmark with a map of Middle Earth and placed it on top of the stack.

Now, he’s proud to be a frequent library-goer. Admittedly he feels a little silly about it, at first. But the flash of recognition that crosses your face before you wave at him makes him forget.

You float through the building, burning hot under his watchful eye, shutting off yellow desk lamps and bidding farewell to patrons with a sweet smile. The closer you get to him, the more the familiar aroma of cigarettes and his cologne seem to engulf you. It’s your turn now to have your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“Hi, Eddie.” Your saccharine voice cuts through the silence and has him immediately closing his book. He gazes up at you, big brown eyes boring right into yours. Like he knows you’re about to swat his feet, he grins and kicks his legs down onto the floor.

“Hey,” he sighs out.

“Carrie’s that good, huh? ”

Eddie’s head twists in confusion. It’s like your presence sent him face first into a stupor, and now he’s racking his brain trying to figure out what you were asking. Only when you smirk and point at him does he realize you’re talking about the book. The book that’s in his hand, that he was meant to be reading this whole time.

“Oh! Yeah, Carrie,” he confirms with a gummy smile as he waves the novel up, “What can I say? The lady calls to me. You finished it yet?”

You wince at the question. A few weeks ago you’d each recommended each other a book, per Eddie’s suggestion. He’d read your recommendation within the week, returning it with a broad smile that made you feel giddy. It’s taken you a little longer. He sees it all over your face and gasps.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t read it, yet? You’re really hurting my feelings here, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your heart catch in your throat and stumble on your words for a second. “It’s—I just…I started it! I promise. I just haven’t had time to read the whole thing,” you explain through a shy smile.

Eddie chuckles at your suddenly bashful demeanor before an idea pops into his mind. Even thinking about it makes him blush. He doesn’t give himself much time to dwell on the idea of your rejection before he’s blurting it out.

“I can read it to you.”

You watch him, surveying his expression to find any hint that he’s joking. But he’s got a doe-eyed look on his face. He’s dragging one of his rings across the curve of his lips with uncertainty.

“You’d…? You’re kidding,” you decide matter-of-factly.

He vigorously shakes his head, hair flying in every direction as he throws his hand over his chest. A bright smile shines across his face. “Cross my heart. I’ve been told I got a shot in the audiobook industry. Might even hear me on one of those little cassettes in the future.”

The boy is lying through his teeth. It’s rare that someone indulged in a positive conversation with him, let alone complimented his voice. Though, it makes you huff out a laugh, maybe a little too loud for a library setting and he swears his heart is about to break out of his rib cage.

You nod at him rather emphatically and agree, “Must be your charisma.” Your hand drops to pick at the chipped wood of the table and your gaze drops with it to hide from him.

“Hey, your words.” He tosses his hands up in the air, smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth. He clears his throat before asking, “What do you say? Think it’d be good practice for me to have a live audience.”

He looks so genuine, a soft expression taking over rough features. His leg bounces under the table with anticipation. His fingers move to where yours are, and he hesitantly reaches his pinky to your own. It’s just a tap, but it sends a tingle up your entire arm and has you reciprocating the touch.

He’s making it so hard for you to say no. You glance up at the clock on the nearby wall and frown. “Well, right now I’m kinda supposed to tell you that the library closes in a few minutes.”

Eddie spares a glance behind you and realizes that he’s the last person on this floor, maybe the entire building.

“Oh. Yeah, well…some other time.” His shoulders sink just slightly before he’s standing upright and smiling at you. “I’ll get out of your hair, m’lady.” He bends at the waist to bow at you, waving his arms theatrically.

You’re smiling at him again, something warm and entirely too sweet. As he turns to the exit, you feel something tug at your chest. Like he’s taking a piece of you with him. It has you calling out before you’re able to stop yourself.

“Eddie?”

He twists back and hums.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want. I mean I’d love to take you up on the offer, if you don’t mind following me around while I reshelve some returns?” A nervous laugh falls from your mouth as you hitch your thumb towards the non-fiction shelves. Eddie spots your other hand still picking at the chipped wood.

He beams at you with flushed cheeks and a puffed chest.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[apexart-journal]

Mvelo Mahlanguin NYC, Day 8

Todays first activity was sitting in on a zoom meeting on Advocating for Discretionary Funding within community gardeners. I felt comfortable in understanding the context of the meeting because of my trip to the Bronx Library for the proposal writing on Day 1 as well as my visit to the Brooklyn Garden on Day 3. 

It definitely takes a lot of work and organisation to uphold and maintain community public spaces, so it has been interesting seeing the inner workings of this maintenance. Its still a little bit foreign to me the idea of structured community gardens that are actively being taken care of by different people of the community and community organisations. 

After the zoom I made my way over to Apexart to have my meeting with Nia. A weeks difference of traveling up and down New York ensured that I knew how to get to apexart and something unfamiliar became something recognisable. I'm definitely hoping that when I am able to come back to NY in the future, my brain will still retain familiarity with the streets and subways. 

It was comforting catching up with Nia and sharing what I’ve experienced and laughing on some experiences that both her and Ryan have gone through as New Yorkers. I realise it was comforting because I’ve been manoeuvring around by myself and when I do talk to people, its only a very fleeting moment. Which means I’m mostly alone or in my head. So apart from my sessions with Nancy, it's nice knowing that I have a moment to ‘catchup’ and talk with someone who is familiar. 

Steven had also passed through at one point which was lovely as I shared the effects of the programme on me so far. It’s definitely one thing knowing or anticipating what you may go through and understanding the aims of the programme, and then actually go through it and observing the internal shifts in mindset or view points. As open and as unattached to expectations as I was, to my time in NY, I realise I subconsciously had some preconceived ideas of what it could be like. It initially shaped my viewpoint of thinking that New York is just this place in America that everyone raves about, its busy and bustling, full of skyscrapers; "concrete jungle” - Which it is all that. But the mental image it created was this loud noisy place, congested with people that are most probably unfriendly and too busy. Kind of like Johannesburgs CBD, but on steroids. So this mental image resulted in me never really placing NY as thee ‘go-to' destination in America.  I thought more California or Colorado where nature was more prevalent and a ‘calmer’ environment. 

I can definitely say that my mind has changed drastically. It's a whole new world outside of the confines of what I could have imagined. The melting pot of people from different backgrounds is unreal. The architecture and public infrastructure has been pleasantly surprising. The tangible and vibrant energy of life is so palpable. I even used to ask myself where do the elderly people stay or ‘retire’ to if they live in New York? And the quality of life must be harder in such a busy place. Looking at it now, that’s the most ridiculous question I could have ever thought of. And I think its taught me a very real lesson on perception and the biases we create within our minds that prevent us from experiencing “a whole new world”, FIRST HAND. One thing Steven also mentioned is that, we’d only truly see the effects of this program once I’ve settled back into my routine back home. I’m interested in seeing how that will play out. 

I then made my way over to Nancy to share with her my first week, which definitely had me feeling so much more extroverted and a little more in touch with my old self. We spoke about some growing pains that have shaped who I am currently on a social aspect, resulting in my general tendency towards introversion. One key takeaway is that being outside of a familiar environment has shown me how much we sometimes stick to a certain way of being even though we are always free to reinvent new ways of being. Being a human is a very interesting experience… haha!

I ended off my day going to Sunrise Market (as per Ryan's recommendation) a Japanese market, and had a lovely bowl of Udon noodles. 

[beyondspaceandstars]

Hi!

I've been reading some of your posts and I am a big fan🥰

I was wondering if its okay, maybe you could do a Loki x reader where they were best friends and denied each others feelings all the time and when Loki was brought to the TVA, he found reader there and lots of angst and fluff🥰💞😁

Have a great day😁😁💞💞🥰🥰

Nothing Gold

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: thank you so much for enjoying me work I am so glad that makes me so happy! thank you so much for the request. I really liked this idea and I think it came out okay - sorry the ending it a bit abrupt! thank you again :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had to do a full-on, dramatic as hell, double-take while walking through the TVA library. He had come down to look for a variant file but had apparently ended up finding something else. More specifically — someone else.

You. You. You.

You, his best friend. You, the sweet girl he had a never-ending crush on. You, the one who had just gone missing one day.

Loki could never forget. It was like something wouldn’t let him.

He had invited you around the palace for breakfast before you left his chambers for the night. You two had been up late reading together. You frequently popped over, usually claiming to stay for a few hours, just enough for Loki to read to you some verses of a poetry book, but those hours got longer and longer each time.

Next thing you two knew, it was nearly morning and you needed at least a few hours of sleep in your own bed. He had walked you out, asking you to come back for breakfast in a few hours. You happily agreed, giving him a quick hug before parting. Loki didn’t want to let go. He remembered that detail very well. He wanted to pull you back in his chambers, just hold you for hours. Days. Months. Forever. But he didn’t. He let you go, watching as you made your way back to your modest home. He never realized that would be the last time he saw you.

Well, actually, it technically wasn’t. Because he was staring at you right now. You were at a table near the back of the library, head buried in some files but he could still recognize you. Could always point out that lovely, long hair and those soft, gentle hands. You were always a stark contrast against him.

Loki just watched you for a few moments, completely and utterly confused by the situation. The shock was wearing off and now question after question filled his brain. How did you end up here? What had you done? Were you okay? A million thoughts came over him but his legs had their own agenda. The next thing he knew, he was approaching your table. He almost didn’t know how he got there.

He stood opposite of your sitting form. You weren’t noticing him, apparently very invested in the file you were studying. Loki had to admit, that was quite like you. You were always one to get lost in the words, way deeper than he did.

Eventually, Loki cleared his throat, hoping that’d do something. Slowly, you lifted your head, brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him from head to toe. You didn’t recognize him, Loki could see it in your eyes. He was just a variant turned agent to you. Something in him felt like it was stabbing his heart over and over again.

"Can I help you with something?" You hesitantly asked but your voice was still so sweet and kind, just as Loki remembered. You were far more patient and soft-spoken than he was.

He said your name like it was the greatest plead but you didn’t react. Loki didn’t know what to do then, realizing you were you but you also…weren’t. His face fell.

You were getting uncomfortable. "I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is—,"

"You don’t?" Loki couldn’t help the hurtful gasp he let out.

"Sir, I’m sorry…" Your eyes began searching around frantically. Something was going on. You were getting scared, way past uncomfortable. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.

Loki said your name again, much forceful than the last. You jumped. You weren’t directly responding but Loki could see something in your eyes. He said your name again. Then again. Like it was the only thing he knew. Your eyes met one another intensely, hypnotically.

After maybe the sixth time, you snapped. You jumped out of your seat, breathing heavily, scared, surprised. It had all happened too fast Loki was also taken back. You two were more than just staring at each other. Your wide eyes were taking him in.

"Loki?"

He felt so relieved to hear his name just float off your lips. It was as sweet as he remembered. Like a little lullaby. The stabbing in him stopped.

Loki nodded. "It’s me."

"What…" You looked around as if you had no idea where you were. And maybe you didn’t but Loki hadn’t expected your name to just snap you out of it. This opened a lot of questions for him but he didn’t have time. He raised his hand, cutting off your words.

Loki nodded towards one of the bookshelf aisles further away from everyone. You nodded in understanding, following him down the rows.

Once you were a safe distance away, Loki wasted no time collecting you in his arms, his head buried in your shoulder. You were surprised for a moment at the gesture but then you fell into it naturally, like you had just hugged him yesterday. And really that was how it had felt. But Loki knew better. You had been gone for so long…

"Loki," you mumbled his name, your head pressed into his chest. "What is going on?"

Loki stilled. "Why don’t you tell me what you know."

You scoffed, breaking off the hug. You were a sweet one but Loki was no stranger to your tiny temper. You put distance between you two and Loki allowed it despite how much it hurt.

"What I know?" You repeated, folding your arms. "What I know is that I’m standing in a library with you." You looked around at the space, noting an actual lack of real books. "What kind of library is this anyway? How did I—,"

"Do you remember anything before you got here?"

Your gaze dropped as you studied your shoes. They were some nice black flats but Loki knew that wasn’t your style. You were not the business causal type, usually pleased with the feeling of Asgardian silk gowns.

Something was coming to you as you let out a soft gasp. "I was walking home. We-We had just finished a poem written by that Midgardian… Gosh, what was his name? Winter or something—,"

"Frost," Loki mumbled. "His last name was Frost and you enjoyed his poem about how nothing gold can stay. You found it relatable. I’ll admit, you may have been onto something."

A light had gone on within you. "You thought it was pretentious." Your gaze met Loki’s once more. "I called you a fool and laughed. Then we saw daylight breaking and… and I had to go home. I missed my bed. You wanted breakfast in a few hours. I agreed to come back."

Loki nodded, encouragingly, but your words had fallen off. "What happened next?"

You shook your head, that blank expression washed over you again. "I don’t know."

Loki let out a sigh and leaned back on the shelf. "Do you remember anything after that?"

You looked back down at your outfit. At least the pencil skirt was nice. "Yes," you admitted. "I was hired here. I report on variants to protect the sacred timeline." It sounded to Loki like you were reading a script. What the hell was going on here?

"But you don’t know how you got from Asgard to…here?"

You sighed, a bit annoyed. "How did you get here?"

The snippy temper was back. You were still you. Loki could’ve kissed you, a feeling that had come over him before but was suddenly more intense than ever. He would, he promised himself. He couldn’t leave you again without doing so.

"I had a bit of an…incident."

"Really? You? I never would’ve guessed," you said, the sarcasm on your words dripped heavily. Loki gave quite the dramatic eye roll. You let out a little giggle.

"Yes, well, never mind what got me here, I am here," he said, motioning towards nothing. "And I am assisting with the hunt of a variant."

"You’re helping them?"

Loki scoffed. "Don’t act so surprised." A beat. "I didn’t have much of a choice."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Loki had missed this. If he focused really hard, it almost felt like you two were back in Asgard, lounging around, talking about nothing. Teasing one another. His heart was aching.

"What do you know about the variant?" You eventually asked.

Loki glanced away. "It’s me."

"You?"

He shrugged. "Well, a version of me. Another variant."

You slowly crossed the aisle, coming to stand right next to Loki, your shoulders pressed against one another. Loki’s breath hitched just a bit. He would never get used to this.

You asked, "Well, what have ‘you’ done?"

Loki resorted back to his witty humor. "Nothing good as you could assume."

"This mischief of two Lokis is unthinkable."

Loki let out a laugh which you followed suit with. You two were laughing over nothing in this random library in wherever this place was. He could barely understand it and you were absolutely clueless. But the moment of laughter was good, was familiar. Too bad it couldn’t last.

"I’ve missed you," Loki admitted after the laughter had faded out unceremoniously. You looked a bit surprised at the confession.

"Truly?"

He nodded.

You blushed and looked down. "I’d say I missed you too but I don’t feel like we’ve been apart. How long has it been?"

When Loki wasn’t giving an answer, you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was staring at you quite intensely. You shivered under the gaze. It was an expression you hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t allowed you to see. It was one full of love and interest and adornment.

"Too long," was all he said before his lips were on yours. Loki finally took what he had been craving and it was happening in the TVA library. The fucking TVA. Loki’s head was still spinning with worries about this whole thing but, slowly, he got lost in you. In your lips and softness. Your hands grasped his shirt as you deepened the kiss — you. You wanted more from him. And he was happy to give.

His hands caressed your sides lovingly, feeling and holding you in the way he had always dreamed. It was better than anything he could’ve conjured. It felt right and real. Good and… Too good. Too powerful.

An alarm was going off somewhere now. You hadn’t seemed to notice it, still captivated in the kiss, but Loki was aware. He forced you two apart, reluctantly. You looked at him, ready to protest, but before you could ask anything, Loki was placing a hand over your mouth.

Footsteps were approaching. They were coming towards your aisle. Whatever had happened here wasn’t good, something had gone haywire. Had he broken the timeline? Was that even possible here? Loki didn’t know but what he did know was there was an army on the hunt for them. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hand, looking for an escape route.

"Loki," you finally were able to speak, keeping your voice hushed as you two maneuvered the maze of shelves, "what did we do?"

"We love each other."

"Love?"

Loki stopped despite there being no time to stop. "Am I wrong?"

You didn’t answer. That was all he needed. Now to only get the hell out of here. Loki couldn’t tell if his encounter with the TVA had been a blessing or a cure as he held you close to him, refusing to lose you again to whatever trap this place planned to lay.

[cosmiclatte28]

Friendship, Love, Courage

MY FIRST EVER COLLAB!! HOSTED BY THE WONDERFUL @danishmiilk

Characters: Renjun x reader, NoMin!

Fluff romance

Warning : mentions of “stealing”, quite a broken trust but its ending nicely

TW : Stress (?)

HERE WE GO!! I worked so hard on this (even had 2 other friends checked on this and they approved this thanks to both of you #they’re_not_in_tumblr

word count : 12 pages idk how much but come on finish it for me 🥺🥺🥺 thanks

tagging @yutahoes @neopalette @full-hd-sun @swagmonsterofficial @nini-eexxo @hen-marks99 At this point I'm just tagging my moots coz this was my first attempt of collab and i deadass worked so hard on this... it better be read by someone even if they don't like it but they read it 🤭💖 @superm-net @multifandomnet @trashlord-007 @ahsshilee-me @charmingyong

You smile shyly when the cute prefect in blue robe tosses a small smile to you when you pass by him on the moving stairs. He continues his tour of guiding the new wizards and witches into the magical castle, telling them stories, showing them the common room, and helping them adjust to the new living area.

You gasp when you feel a slap on your shoulder, quickly you turn your head to face the now annoyed friend standing beside you.

“Really (y/n)? You’re once again frozen in place when that honey boy you adore walks by.” Jaemin, in his green robe, slicks his blonde hair away while throwing some flirty smile to the younger girls passing by the two of you. They chuckle and blush at his action, unaware of the fact that Na Jaemin already has his eyes on someone.

You glare at him, quickly covering his mouth before catching attention of the living paintings hung on the walls. No, not even the paintings should know about your feelings to that cute Ravenclaw prefect.

“Shut that big mouth of yours please. Don’t you know the walls have ears here?!” you dust off your red robe and continue walking to the dining hall. Shaking aside the cute smile of Huang Renjun away from your head. You’ve met Renjun from the first day of school, he was pure blood with the Hatstall incident at his sorting ceremony. The sorting hat spent a good five minutes pondering if he should be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Alas the house of the witty won the cute half-blood. As much as you wish to get sorted into the same house as his (mainly because he is cute), once the hat is on, it sorted you to the house of the brave. You’re still happy though to be one of the brilliant half-bloods in the Gryffindor house.

Renjun was very nice of you, when you first felt lonely in the big school (funny how you, a Gryffindor can feel lonely eh? But that’s your life). When you were struggling to find your way through the halls you had to thank Renjun for accompanying you whenever you had to move classes. But your relationship with him is purely just as close as a stranger. Renjun never sits beside you, nor does he hang out with you, he sits with his own smart gang. For two years he purely just helped you get around the halls. Instead of befriending Renjun, you become friends with the two wizards in your batch, the generous Hufflepuff who helps you ace your Herbology class: Lee Jeno. He is your first bestie, and since he enjoys your loud and fun personality, he calls you one of his friends.

The handsome blonde in green robe by your side earlier is your other best friend, Na Jaemin. A pureblood descending from the Slytherin family. You don’t know how Jaemin wants to be friends with you, a Gryffindor, but here you are. If Jeno helps you with herbology, Jaemin is there for you in potion classes. Though at first you think Jaemin is just using you to help him pass transfiguration and magical creatures. Turns out it was the total opposite, Jaemin is interested in Jeno, and the only person he sees is nice enough to be his wingman is you.

You don’t mind this though since you’ve seen how sincere Jaemin is when it comes to defending you and cheering you up. You know it’s just his ego that doesn’t let him say he is being friends with you because you two click. Screw anyone who made the unwritten rules that a Slytherin and Gryffindor cannot be friends. Well you understand since he is a Pure Slytherin. No one expects Slytherin to befriend Gryffindor even worse a half blood.

Back to the mean time, you walk with Jaemin on your side to reach the library where Jeno has reserved a place for you two. It’s your fourth year in Hogwarts which means you and your friends have to start preparing for the O.W.L test to be taken in your last fifth year. Although the three of you are gifted with brilliant heads, no one can slack their O.W.L and expect to pass. Here you are, limiting your free time and getting your ass dragged by Jeno to always study when you have free time.

“I miss playing quidditch.” You whisper after one hour of sitting down in the library and sticking your nose into the lines and lines of scribbles.

Jeno snickers, “You miss quidditch or you miss being in the same air as Renjun?”

You slap his hand that lays on the table and the young boy groans, “You’re evil! You could be in Slytherin, gosh thank heaven you’re not there or you’ve turned me into a stone.”

Jaemin just smirks, well he likes this side of you. The semi-evil part in your innocent-like façade.

“Dramatic, Lee Jeno. I love flying on the broom and chasing the balls.” You lied and if someone had given you the Veritaserum, Jeno’s guess was right. Your team likes to practice with the Ravenclaw’s team; don't ask why when your team captain is clearly flirting with the Ravenclaw’s captain.

“Come on, no one will buy that lie. It’s been four years of secretly crushing Renjun, why don’t you try to at least “befriend” him.” Jaemin sets aside his book and rests his chin on one of his hands.

You focus back on your book, trying to not fall into Jaemin’s hypnotizing eyes that can make you spill truths. “I am his friend. He never calls me an enemy.”

“Yeah not like that, I mean bring him here to our group study, ask him to sit with you during mealtimes. Invite him to join us when we’re strolling around Hogsmeade.” Jeno whispers.

The three of you shut up when a shadow appears on your table and drop a pile of books.

“Excuse me, mind sharing the table? The place is full and yours is the only one available.” A soft voice greets three of you and like robots, you turn your heads slowly to widen your eyes and gasp when the guy of your gossip is standing here.

“Oh Renjun, yes you can. Please,” Jaemin kindly brings his books to his side and you throw him a death glare. Well, the available space is the one on your side.

“Thank you, hey (y/n)! It’s been a while,” Renjun smiles at you. You just smile and nod, well yes you rarely see him in class, mostly because your schedule didn’t match his and both of you stopped playing quidditch.

You swear, that was the longest one hour in your life. Renjun’s soft sweet fragrance of sweet baked vanilla from the side is enough to make your heart beat faster, not to mention how cute he looks with his glasses when he is focusing on the charm textbook. You know if this guy is going to sit here all day, none of the materials written in the book will be planted in your brain. Still, Jeno and Jaemin had the audacity to invite Renjun into your small study group.

“Hey Renjun, next time why don’t you join us to study for O.W.L?” Jeno asks when all of you clean up your belongings and head for dinner.

Renjun’s smile lights up and he laughs nervously, “Well if that is okay with three of you, I don’t have any friends to study with yet.”

“You’re most welcome here! Just ask (y/n) later about our meeting times. Jeno can help with herbology and I can help with Potions. You can help us with charms! (y/n) here is the queen of transfiguration.” Jaemin welcomingly says all of this. Though most people may be blinded by his sweet words, you want to smack the life out of him when you see his glinting eyes taunting you.

You want to object, saying that his schedule won’t work with yours, but the cat has your tongue and all you can do is stay quiet as Renjun thanks Jaemin for inviting him to the group.

With that, Renjun chooses to walk around the grounds for a while before dinner. Your heart is bursting any second whenever he looks up to glance at the sky and you can see his perfectly sculptured face. No, it is not awkward, he casually talks with you about how he also misses quidditch, he also shares funny stories of the first-year students getting lost in the hallways just like you. Is he teasing you about getting lost in the hallway? Well since it is Renjun you just smile, had it been Jeno or Jaemin their hairs would already be in your hand.

“They’re just like you. Looking so cute when they’re lost and confused, afraid to miss their class.” Renjun stares at you and you laugh.

“I know, it was hard okay memorizing this big hall! Not to mention the moving stairs.” You finally feel less nervous and you can start talking with less stuttering.

“Well, if you’re ever confused just call me. I’ll assist you again like back then.” He chuckles and you laugh.

Well, you sort of have to treat Jeno and Renjun for a butterbeer maybe, thanks to them you finally get to walk around and talk with Renjun on the ground after four years.

That night on the paved grounds. You sit down while playing with your wand, swishing it while practicing some chants (without actually doing it). You sit on one of the grounds, leg straight while you lean on one of the pillars there. There is a soft footstep coming to you and someone took the opposite part of the pillars. You turn your head to catch Renjun’s body mirroring yours, but he is holding a book.

“Complicated.” He shrugs coyly.

You toss your head to the side and smile "Renjun, how did you find me? " Your easy-going Gryffindor traits show up and Renjun calmly looks up from his book to look over his shoulder to you too. “Maybe from this?” he offers you a Marauder’s Map and you gasp.

“How can you have one?” you want to take it from his hand, but he is faster.

Before you can ask more questions, Renjun diverts the topic and asks you about the group study. "So, are you sure your Slytherin and Hufflepuff boys want me to be in the group?" Renjun bashfully asks you this.

You laugh "They're more than happy when you accept their offer. Truth is we all suck at the hard charms. We need a tutor and we also need one more friend to make the space full. You're on our first list."

"I am honored to be first in the list, and I also like having friends to study with. So, tell me what the schedule is." With that, you wave your wand to bring you a piece of paper. "Accio schedule." The schedule paper lands on Renjun's slender fingers from your small pocket and the soft looking boy runs his eyes through the timetable. "Great, I can adjust my classes for this." You feel your heart can't take it anymore when he looks into your eyes deeply.

"So, see you tomorrow afternoon." You stand up trying to leave the ground, since the sleeping hours are coming, but his hand reaches for your wrist. "Sorry, do you want to go watch the quidditch practice between our team tomorrow? It's after lunch." Renjun scratches his neck. You nod "I will!" He smiles "Great, see you! Good night."

You raise your eyebrow "My hand" And he gasps as he lets go of your wrist. "Sorry" Both of you laugh and you finally go back to your room. Things were great, you and Renjun slowly became closer.

You hate the silly rules of staying over your own common room. Like dang you want to meet Renjun in his common room, but you know you’re not the smartest one to unlock their password. Not to mention you are not ready to have eyes pierced on you as you enter the room (if you ever succeed)

So, you end up only able to meet Renjun when he sees you on the hallway and with Jeno and Jaemin. He sometimes appears to you in the garden and you once found him chilling on the school’s astronomy tower in the middle of the night. He’s daring enough to leave his bed and you found him stargazing.

After your one encounter on the astronomy tower, that becomes your regular meeting place with Renjun.

Like tonight, both of you sneaked out of your beds, tiptoeing perfectly through the stairs. Somehow escaping the ears of Mr Filch and voila both of you are smiling ear to ear as the moonlight glows through your faces.

You sit on the porch, suddenly regretting your stupid head for forgetting the scarf. The wind is pretty harsh, and you try to hug your body. Renjun is busy watching the sky through his binoculars. You gave him your binoculars when you discovered he also loves space and the galaxy.

“Want to look at the stars?” Renjun looks at you and hands you the binocular. You nod your head while trying your best to not shake from the cold, but it is cold.

“Silly, forgot your scarf?” he unwinds his own blue silver knit scarf and steps closer to wrap it over you.

“What about you?” you feel worried about his condition. Renjun only shakes his head, “I wore warmer clothes. Also, you shouldn’t fall sick. You need to prepare for your O.W.L tomorrow. Just watch the sky.” He quickly changes the topic when he sees your annoyed face of bringing up O.W.L

You take his advice when he pushes your body to face the sky and you bring the object to your eyes. He was right, the night sky is always mysterious and calming, somewhere out there two of you believe another universe with aliens exists.

Renjun secretly watches you in admiration. He never expects to get this close with you, physically and mentally. By now, he knows your most embarrassing story, your favorite food, and your favorite star.

“Renjun! Quick make a wish!” you tug on his sweater and pull his hand when your eyes catch a shooting star.

Renjun is quick to realize your hand is still squeezing his arm, but he closes his own eyes and makes his own wish. You wish with all your might, things will be better for you and Renjun. You want him, you love him and basically, you’re so ready to risk everything just to get him. Creepy? No, that is love.

“So, what did you wish for?” he whispers near your ear, you see him shivering so you naturally take off the scarf and try your best to share it between both of you.

Renjun’s cheek blushed, “Didn’t think of that. You sure are smarter at things like that.”

You giggle “About your question, don’t you know a wish should remain secret or it won’t work.”

The young man scoffs, “You believe that?”

You nod “Well I thought you do too.”

Renjun smiles, “Fine. I will also keep mine.”

You can no longer hold back your yawn and you realize if both of you stay in this cold air, you’ll need to call in sick and that is not happening. Not when you need to catch up on all class materials.

“See you Injun-ah,” you wave as you drape the scarf back on him. He smells your sweet musk perfume and something tingles Renjun’s mind.

He remembers he had smelt that same hint of scent somewhere, but where. In confusion, the Ravenclaw walks back to his room. Only when his head hits his pillow does he finally remember where he encountered that smell. None other than that silly amortentia potion class. Take a whiff and you’ll know who that special person is.

“Tell me again how he always managed to find you?” Jaemin asks you about how Renjun always finds you. Both of you are sitting in the garden, taking a whiff of fresh air.

You sigh, you know you shouldn’t be telling him this, but you think Jaemin can keep secrets.

“He has a Marauder’s map.” You whisper under your breath.

Jaemin’s eyes lighten and his jaw drops. He really looks glowing with happiness like he won a lottery.

“(Y/n)~” his sing-song tone comes out and you mutter a curse under your breath. Oh no, he is going to ask you something. Which is true.

“Is it possible if you borrow the map from Renjun? Just for a second.” He pouts and draws random lines on your arm. You pull your hand away and slap his hand “What are you thinking? Go borrow by yourself.”

He drives his eyes to his feet, “I really need it, but I guess Renjun won’t let me borrow it.”

You scoff “You know it already. I never even touched it Jaem, it’s really precious after all.”

Jaemin, a total charmer, looks you in the eyes with his sickening puppy eyes “Please, I need it to meet Jeno secretly too! He seems tired but he is hiding it from us…”

“Your point?” you cut the crap out of him.

Jaemin smiles and you see his cunningness really popping up when he bribes you to help him “Point is, can you just take the map from him for a while and then I’ll use it to find Jeno, then you return it to him. Simple!”

You groan “How is that simple? That’s stealing!”

“Borrowing, just that he won’t realize it’s ever gone from his hand.” Jaemin shrugs his shoulder

“It’s not an honest game. You said ``borrow not steal and return.”

“Then try borrowing it from him, he doesn’t talk to me about the map so it’ll be weird if I ask him about that. He will be mad at you for spilling secrets and I know you love him so much.” He smirks, knowing that he won your internal battle.

You sigh, Jaemin really traps you in the mouse trap eh?

“Fine, let me try to borrow it from him. What will I get in return?”

“Woah you're so calculative! I thought we are friends and friends help each other?”

You really regret not joining Jeno to study with Renjun, this Slytherin man is really cunning… luring you to leave the library to “take in the fresh air” but ended up dealing with a dangerous project.

“Okay if you insist, I’ll say if the map worked, I’ll be able to accompany Jeno and he will be happier and you want to see Jeno happier right? Also you’re my best greatest courageous friend, isn’t this like a challenge?” he stares at you with great compassion plus hitting your chivalry ego and since no one is there to slap you, you nod your head.

“Okay Jaemin.” The Gryffindor spirit of not thinking about an action carefully is here.

Jaemin smirks and waves you goodbye after slipping a small tube of potion to your hand. He disappeared like that and you start to think of a way to talk with him about the map, while staring at disbelief for the Felix Felicis in your hand. Dang that Slytherin boy really is questionable.

You spend the afternoon thinking of a way to get Renjun’s map and you finally choose to ask him slowly.

“Renjun! What are the things you always keep in your bag?” you ask randomly but Renjun and you did this a lot of time, so he doesn’t smell your smoke.

He thinks for a while, “Nothing much, books and the map, some quills and chocolates? Why?”

You nod “It’s okay, just curious.”

He doesn’t pester you about it, only talking more about different things.

“Hey, tomorrow is Sunday. Mind to just sit and enjoy the day off? We sit in the fountain courtyard.”

Your brain finds a chance to take his map and so you nod your head.

--

You drop the Felix Felicis potion on your breakfast tea that Sunday morning and you meet Renjun who is looking so good in his casual outfit.

You’re nervous, though luck is favoring you, you are still battling yourself whether you should just snatch the map or ask him nicely.

After talking about different things and driving his attention to other things, you inch closer to Renjun and stare at his lips. Somehow your brain is focused on his lips and oh did you forget you took a potion this morning?? Because your silly head wants to kiss his lips so bad and luck is really on your side.

“Why are you staring at my lips? You really like them don’t you?” Renjun boldy asks, something so uncommon about him.

You gulp and blush, but your heart secretly wants to kiss him.

“Come here,” he pulls your hand closer and once your shoulder crashes with his, he kisses you right in the middle of the day when everyone can see you two sharing a slow kiss.

Your head almost stops working but suddenly Jaemin’s shadow appears in your mind and you quickly put your hand into Renjun’s bag. You didn’t know the lucky potion could be this wonderful because once your hand enters the bag you find the paper already.

Renjun was so focused on the kiss that he didn’t notice your hand slipping the map to your pocket. Only when you’re done did you finally break the kiss.

He blushes and you chuckle “That was intense.”

Yes the kiss was intense but the reason your heart beats super-fast is because of the action you just did. Stealing.

“I love you Renjun,” you whisper, feeling a bit sad for lying to him… but you don’t want to be embarrassed after what you did go well.

“I love you too, I didn’t know our feelings were mutual.” He innocently rubs his burning face and you want to die from lying with him.

“Renjun, sorry for suddenly leaving, but I have to go, I got something to do.” You stand up from the grounds.

“Huh? Oh okay I guess you look rushed.” He stands up too, “Where do you have to go? I can walk you there.”

You shake your head and reject his offer, “No, it’s personal. If you don’t mind, I’d rather go by myself. Bye Injun! See you!” you run away from him and disappear before he can even bid his farewell.

The ravenclaw just shrugs his shoulders and returns to his common room. When he kisses you earlier, he feels so fuzzy and fireworks are popping in his heart. As weird as it sounds, the kiss made him come up with a new imaginative creature.

Yes, Renjun is a ravenclaw who enjoys imaginative creatures. He is talented in drawing, so he spends his time sketching and naming creatures he has in his head. Though you may ask how a Ravenclaw believes in uncertain things with no concrete proof, Renjun has been hiding this guilty pleasure from anyone.

He hums as he sits on his chair and starts arranging his paints. The sun is angled perfectly at this time and he is more than excited to paint the new love creature he has in his mind.

On the other hand, you are running to meet Jaemin.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no goods.” You tap your wand and open the map to quickly find Jaemin.

There he is, somehow lurking in the dining hall. Weird.

You pocket the map and make your way to him.

“Use this quickly. I don’t know how long it takes for Renjun to notice.” You stuff the map into Jaemin’s pocket.

His eyes twinkle “Oh gosh you did it. You do this for me? Thank you!” he taps your shoulder and flies away “I’ll return it to you once I am done. Promise.”

You just wait for him with anxiety crawling in your heart. Something about stealing, lying, and using potion is just not settling well in your Gryffindor heart. You let out a deep breath, and relax a bit.

Only that it didn’t even last long and things are going downhill from here.

While you wait nervously in the dining room, you find yourself face to face with a fuming and disappointed Renjun. “You stole the map, didn’t you?!” he holds back all the anger inside to avoid reaching for your collar.

You gulp, of course he noticed. It’s been almost two hours. Couldn’t Jaemin find Jeno, bring Jeno to return the map to you then go disappear somewhere. Why should you wait for this long.

“I-“ you stutter “I’m sorry.” You apologize, your heart tells you lying more will just bring you to a deeper pit.

Renjun shakes his head, “You stole but I’m hurt you tricked me! Did you mean the kiss or not?”

Your eyes widened, he was just confused about the kiss? Oh how cute. You want to open your mouth, but it looks like the cat got your tongue again and Renjun was faster in assuming things when he is angry.

“You know what? I don’t care about your kiss, I don’t even care about your explanation. Give it back.” His palm opens up to you and you bite your lips “It’s not with me.”

His eyes would pop off from his head “You what? You lost it or gave it to someone?”

Damn Ravenclaws and their quick brains.

“I’ll give it back to you, I promise.” You reach out for his hand, but he snatches his hand away to his chest before you can appeal to him.

“You know what? I found it already.” He looks over your shoulder and sees Jaemin coming to you with a troubled face.

“And by the look of Jaemin’s face, I guess this is not my day.” Renjun sounds super sad and you hate yourself for actually starting all of this. He was in a super good mood earlier and you ruined everything. Now will you ruin your friendship too? and love interest.

You heard Jaemin apologizing (something so uncommon) about something and the next second, you don’t hear anything from Renjun’s lips, just an eerie silence between them and suddenly the man in blue sweater runs away from you and Jaemin.

“I may or may not have accidentally been caught by some other Slytherin, and they wanted to see the map. It ripped.” Jaemin mutters slowly and you feel your world has stopped turning and you should just leave Hogwarts before facing Renjun.

--

Renjun left both of you and there’s nothing you can do. There is, but your brain stops working and your Gryffindor heart cowers and runs away. You sit devastated on the ground and Jaemin copies you.

“We can try to fix this map,” Jaemin tries to cheer you up but you shake your head “We can’t. Even if we can, I don’t think the bond of our friendship can be fixed.” you pull your knees to your chest and put your chin on them

“I’ll find a way to fix this. I promise, I broke the map so let me take the blame for this.” Jaemin stands up with the ripped map and he casts the repair charm.

You just stare at it soullessly. Well the map did come back into one piece, but Renjun’s disappointment can’t leave your head.

“I am sorry (y/n).” Jaemin sincerely apologizes to you and you just hum a silent reply

“Look, I believe Renjun will forgive you. He might not forgive me, but I deserve this. This is not your fault. I made you trick him. I am the guilty one.” your best friend tries to cheer you up, but your mind keeps on thinking Renjun.

--

That young ravenclaw did come into dinner, well he has to as he’s the prefect. But when you leave your chair to tap his shoulder and talk with him, he already leaves with the big group and you find yourself alone, losing your chance.

You ask around where he is, and everyone says he’s in the prefect bathroom enjoying a long bath. You hate how he has a hideout you can’t come to. So, the only thing you can do is wait.

You think of ways to apologize and how he can forgive you. Should you do his chores? Should you do his essays? gosh no he’s smarter than you. Should you buy him some new paint and drawing books? He likes to draw right, but you bite your lips when you remember your allowance this month was finished for good when you bought that new broom.

You go to the toilet, and come back to ask where he is on a passing Ravenclaw, only to curse when they said he is already in the common room.

Great, now you really won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Hey (y/n), I handed him the map already and asked sorry.” Jaemin suddenly taps your shoulder when you are walking to your room.

You just nod “Lucky you, looks like he is not that disappointed at you. Must be because he is afraid you’d turn him into a frog.” you try to tease Jaemin but even your own joke doesn't taste good in your tongue.

Renjun tries his best to avoid you, or more likely avoid hearing your apology or explanation about what happened that day. It’s as if you’re a deadly plague! He did show up a couple of times to the group study meetups, but he never talks to you about anything other than asking your question about the lesson or when the boys ask him about his nerves about the test.

You feel sick from all of the studying, but most of your stress comes from Renjun’s constant ignorance towards you. He did talk to you about other things, he explained to you the lessons you’re still struggling with but he never speaks of that day as if it never happens. Though some people like that better and just brush it off, like Jaemin for example. You’re not satisfied with this. You need his real acceptance of apology or you can’t feel ease in your heart.

You tried all you can, sending him a message filled with handwritten apology, a chocolate of his favorite brand, a chocolate frog, some badly drawn apology painting, a poem, and even try to bring up the conversation whenever you meet but he always finds a way to smile and drive the topic to another thing.

His playful gaze can still be felt by you and he still helps you occasionally in classes you struggle in. He even helps until the last days of the O.W.L test and the guilt in your heart is just piling up.

--

“Good luck on your O.W.L '' Renjun one night smiles at you after cleaning up the books and quills. You gasp “Thank you, you too and Renjun I am sorry.” you finally get the chance to utter your apology intimately without anyone else near you.

Renjun sighs “You’re still sad about that?” you bite your lips and nod “I can’t take it off my head.” The man in blue robes chuckles and messes your hair “Silly. Stop worrying about that. Just focus on your studies okay so that you can pass this O.W.L” you turn red from his action, heart beating super fast upon seeing his cute smile and hand touching your head.

“Alright, I need my sleep. You go to bed too okay, see you for breakfast tomorrow.” he tucks a hair away from your face and bops your nose. You see him walk away after saying good night and when you want to go to your room, you notice a blue scarf he left on the chair.

“Renjun forgot this.” you wrap it around your neck because you have lots of stuff to bring back and slowly you walk to your room, enjoying how his scent softly brushes your nose when the wind is blowing in your direction. You feel calm now that Renjun told you not to worry about it and seeing how he’s back to playing with your hair makes you feel less guilty.

“I’ll return this tomorrow,” you mumble to yourself only to wrap it tighter to your neck when you sleep.

--

The O.W.L this year is nerve consuming and stressful. You and the other students are all squeezed and no one is having their energy other than studying, eating and sleeping. You’ve talked less with the boys, you’re busy isolating yourself in the study room or just in the garden to study and focus on yourself. You also forget about Renjun’s scarf and he seems to forget it too, judging by how he is using another scarf.

All of you made it through the excruciating exam and finally you’re packing your suitcase.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jeno puts his face into your face on the morning of the beginning of the holiday. You have a beaming smile on your face and you happily hug him “Thank you for your help! I did my O.W.L nicely because of your help!” Jeno only chuckles and laughs at your remarks. He only plays with your hair and pushes you away only for you to hit Jaemin’s chest and the cheeky guy is not ready to catch you. You close your eyes, preparing yourself to hit the hard ground and be embarrassed for the rest of the year in Hogwarts, but you didn’t hit the ground. You open your eyes and see Jaemin already standing next to Jeno, eyes running through the hall as he winks and waves his hand to the passing students. So, who is holding you?

“Hoah easy Jeno, you pushed her too hard!” A soft voice you missed. A voice that sounds so cute when he whines or complains. A voice that has been whispering all day all night in your head. Renjun.

“Renjun! Sorry.” you brush yourself as you stand up and tidy your looks. Suddenly feeling conscious if you’ll look good. Renjun smiles, he has his trunk by his hand too, looks like every one of us is going home this Christmas.

“It’s great to see you before the long holiday, (y/n)!” Renjun pushes a small smile and you are busy reaching into your backpack for something. “I need to return this! You left it in the library last time.” you hand Renjun the neatly folded blue scarf which surprises him. “Oh it’s with you! I thought I lost it.”

You laugh “Sorry, I forgot to return it to you.” you extend your arm to him. Renjun quickly takes the scarf and opens it, the next thing you know is that he inches closer to you, wraps the scarf softly on your neck and his lips hover above your own lips. When you look into his orbs, you see how he’s waiting for your permission and while Renjun still has his hand holding on to the scarf on your neck, you close your eyes and feel him pull you by the scarf and seal your lips with a long quiet kiss.

You feel butterflies in your stomach as he gently keeps his hands moving to secure your neck and your heart is thumping so hard.

“I forgive you, go enjoy your Christmas.” Renjun sincerely laughs and kisses your cheek “So, from today is it day one?”

You nod “Day one!” Your heart feels light, the heavy guilty feeling in your heart is gone, his kiss shows how he is not angry at you and you feel his passionate and sincere desire to have you as his significant other.

Jeno and Jaemin pretend they don’t see both of you, just waving their hands to any passing students, telling them to send owls, saying they’ll see them next year and all the season greetings.

“Alright, my train is leaving love. I’ll see you next year. Send me an owl , okay!” Renjun pinches your cheek that’s super red from his sudden actions. You just have a big smile on your face as you nod and wave “See you soon!”

Jeno and Jaemin help you put your stuff into the car your brother has sent to pick you up. You thank the boys, hugging them for being here with you through ups and downs and you’ve made peace with Jaemin. That guy promised you he’ll bring you back your favorite candy from his hometown.

As you sit down in your car, head looking back to the majestic and mystical castle, you smile when you remember how Renjun pulls you into a very sweet kiss and that’s enough to show you how he’s not mad or disappointed at you. You were overthinking, but that’s you. That’s something about your gryffindor heart, always wanting to be responsible for your faults and it feels good to finally see Renjun saying he forgave you already.

Magic and love. Might work side to side, might not. Whichever that is the potion or your attitude, Renjun loves you the way you love him too and that’s what matters.

end

[roonilwazlibisawriter]

Hermione is working a summer job in the muggle world in a library and runs into Draco. Tension ensues. 😌

Hermione greeted her boss as she walked in for her shift at the local library with a soft smile gracing her face. It was the summer after Voldemort was defeated by Harry and so many lives had been lost. After her, Ron, and Harry helped try to clear up some of the mess, she decided to take a mental health break and come back to her hometown and work at her local library. Harry and Ron decided to stay with the Ministry in London and help track down other death eaters. Part of her wished she would have stayed with them because they were her family, but she missed her parents and while she works out how to get their memories of her back, working in the library in the town where she grew up made her feel close to them.

She had set her bag down in the back and grabbed the first cart of books that needed to be put back and started moving down the rows, returning each book to the correct shelf. The silence was nice. Most of the time, the silence was too much for her, but it was different when she was in a library. She felt at home and safe amongst all the books; like at any moment, she could pick up any book and escape this world for a little while.

She focused in on the title of the book in front of her (Romeo And Juliet) and shook her head just slightly. She had been avoiding Ron’s calls recently. After their kiss, they had both decided that they would give each other some space to truly follow what they felt they needed to do next. She had decided that she was going to go back to Hogwarts in the fall for her seventh year, but both Ron and Harry decided to forego going back to school. She was supportive of them and they were supportive of her but with how busy they knew they’d be over the summer and then another year apart while she finished her schooling, her and Ron felt it best not to get into a relationship as of yet. She didn’t regret anything but he had been calling her more often and she felt as though they were in a relationship, which she couldn’t handle right now. Not with where her mind and mental health was.

She sighed as she put the book back on its shelf before moving forward. She continued along with the books in this row before turning the corner to go on into the next row when the sight of a blonde haired boy stopped her in her tracks. Draco Malfoy. After the war and her time at Malfoy Manor, she no longer felt disgusted at the sight of him, but that didn’t mean she’d ever want to talk to him. His head was lowered slightly as his eyes followed the words on the page. She could see the dark circles under his eyes. They stuck out even more against his pale skin. She wasn’t surprised as the war had taken a toll on all of them. She had seen his hesitation at Hogwarts when Voldemort had called for him. She saw how the only reason he seemed to go to him was because his mother called for him. He seemed just as scared as any other wizard that was there.

She turned to try and walk away before he noticed her when she heard him speak up, “Oh, I’m sorry. I can move if you need to move past.” His voice sounded soft and polite, something he’d never sounded before. She knew the minute he saw her face, he’d change his tone, but she turned to face him anyways, not backing down from a challenge before. She saw his face drop, just for a moment, before it was like a switch in his brain went on and his face became blank.

“Huh.” Is all she said as she walked past him. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. Part of the reason she came back was because she needed time away from everything that reminded her of the war and settling back into the muggle world seemed like a good way to do that. She turned down the next aisle, continuing to put the books back from the cart, hoping that he would just leave and she wouldn’t have to deal with him.

“Granger.” She heard behind her, but she continued on as if she hadn’t heard anything. A tap on the shoulder told her that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon so she flipped around to see what he wanted.

“Can I help you with something?” She said, trying to fein being polite. Her fists were balled up by her sides and she had to consciously release the hold as her nails were digging into her palms. She stretched her hands out subtly by her sides as she looked anywhere but his face.

“Uh, no, but-” He started but she interrupted him.

“Oh, then I must be continuing my work.” She turned to move on, but he spoke up once more.

“Please.” She held her breath for a moment before turning around. She didn’t say anything but gave him a curt nod to show he could continue. “I, uh, wanted to say I was sorry. For everything. The insults. The narcissism. The...I don’t know how to put it all into words, but just all of it. There’s no excuse for it.” He paused. He seemed to be looking for more words to say but Hermione, at this point, needed to find out if he had sought her out.

“Were you following me? I mean, how did you find me?” She felt a tightness in her chest and she didn’t know how she felt about his apology.

“No! I mean, no.” He stepped towards her, but she stepped back pushing the cart forward slightly. Noticing this, Draco stepped back to give her space. “I doubt you’ll believe this but this is a complete coincidence. I’ve been taking some time away from the wizarding world and decided to just drive through the muggle world. After everything, I just felt so lost. Everything I believed, everything I was taught to believe, seemed so wrong. I felt like my entire life was a lie. And I didn’t feel as though I could properly learn to move past my prejudices unless I truly went to learn about those that I had been taught to hate. Seems stupid when I say it out loud.” Draco was no longer looking at Hermione, but rather at his feet. She could tell he definitely had changed because he usually has his chest puffed out, his chin turned up, as though he was better than everyone and everything but the person standing in front of her seemed so unsure of himself.

“It’s not stupid.” She said softly, “but I don’t know what you want from me. Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because even if I don’t deserve forgiveness, you deserve an apology. As for the rest of the explanation, I guess I just don’t want you to feel as though I’m trying to come after you or something.” He had lifted his head and Hermione studied his face for a moment. He looked tired, but she could see he was telling the truth. There was uncertainty in his eyes and a pleading look as well. She didn’t know if she could forgive him so quickly but she could understand him. Especially since she was working in this library to escape the same way he was. Maybe for different reasons, but the idea was the same. The magical world was too overwhelming, for the both of them. “I, I don’t want to keep you any longer, but thank you for listening, Hermione. I hope you have a good rest of your day. And I’m sorry if any of this...my being here or my apology, brings up any bad feelings or memories for you.” And with that, he turned to walk out.

“You said my name.” Hermione was staring at the back of his head, the shock of hearing her first name come out of his mouth. She’d never heard it before. And he stopped as well. “You’ve never said my name before, but you just said it. As though it was the normal thing to do.”

He turned around, his eyes wide. “I’m so sorry. I- I shouldn’t have. I don’t have the right. I-” She held up a hand, his mouth falling shut quickly.

“It’s okay. Really.” And It was. Hermione didn’t feel anger or anything, except a little bit of hope, from hearing her name come out instead of her last name or anything else. “I have to get back to work, but if you would like to get a drink and talk about anything, Draco, I get off at five.” And she smiled. A genuine smile graced her features.

Draco looked up at her when he heard his name. And seeing her smile, made him just lightly smile. Her smile was gorgeous and he felt hope from seeing it. Maybe, just maybe, he found what he was looking for in this little muggle town. In a library.

“See you then, Hermione.” And at her name and the smile on his face. Hermione thought that maybe she found what she was looking for, here in her hometown. In a library.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.16

No One

02/04/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,025

Warnings: angst, jealousy, crying, infertility, talk of pregnancy, trouble conceiving, smut, LOTS of fluff

A/N: I’m sorry this one took me a bit to get out. I know y’all tell me not to be sorry but I am still sorry lol I stopped taking my endo meds since I can no longer afford them with no healthcare, I got my period and my endo said FUCK YOU! I was in bed for the entirety of my period with no energy to do anything but lay there and do nothing. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I’ve been excited to get to this chapter and I hope it’s worth the wait. Thank you for any comments or reblogs! xoxo

Thor has never been so eager to get back to New Asgard. Even back in the beginning when Jane had been living with him in those first small houses that they’d built when his new Kingdom was nothing but a distant dream.

Even then, this sensation of yearning had not been so strong.

Every moment away from you has been unbearable. The detour he’d taken after just arriving only increased his desire because if seeing Jane has shown him anything it’s that he has indeed made the right choice.

He really hadn’t doubted it, but it’s nice to know that even with Jane standing inches away from him, his heart had not pounded. His breath had not caught. His fingers had not tingled as they once had in their wish to touch.

Her brown eyes, once beyond beautiful, are indeed still pretty. However, they aren’t yours. Yours that look at him with an innocent admiration. Love pours from them so freely. Eagerly.

You’re not afraid to show him how you feel and it takes his breath away how much you’ve given into loving him.

All he can do is try to return your love with the same fervor. So far he thinks he has been doing the job well.

As he struts forward towards your shared bedroom, he reaches into his cloak, down along his left hip to unhook a small leather satchel bulging with its contents.

Smiling down at what he hopes will be a welcome and pleasing gesture, he makes to open the doors to the room but finds them thrust out towards him.

Instinctively his hand twitches around the satchel, almost throwing his palm out to call his remade hammer, but he resists.

From his bedroom spill two beings. One Asgardian, one human. The doors swing shut behind them.

“Doctor Wilson? Alric?” Thor teeters back onto his right foot, completely surprised to see them. “What brings-?”

Both of them look grave and Thor’s heart hits the pit of his stomach. All of the strength in the universe leaves him in one terrifying instant.

“Is Y/N alright? Is she hurt? Injured? Has something happened?”

In his panic he begins to push through them and they move aside for him but before he can open the doors to get in to see you, Alric reaches out to place his hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“Just our monthly visit, nothing to fret about Your Majesty,” Alric assures him and yet, Thor’s squirming nerves are not put at ease. “Unfortunately things do not look well for an heir as of now.”

“They don’t exactly look bad either, Alric,” Doctor Wilson interjects. “We’re in uncharted territory, Your Majesty. We have to play this as it comes at us. I’m sure with Alric’s help we’ll find a way to make it work.”

Their words at the moment aren’t making any sense to Thor. All he wants is to see you.

“Right…” he says on reflex, but his voice is weak.

His mind on you and only you.

“She is a little melancholy after our news so, perhaps it’s best we let you go see her. Until next month, Your Majesty,” Doctor Wilson gives him a curtsy. “If you need us before then, you have our numbers.”

Alric gives Thor a bow and the two of them march off, Alric lugging a strange metal case along with him.

With nothing to hold him back now, Thor pulls the doors open and hurries inside.

He scans the room from the left to the right, expecting you in the bathroom but you aren’t there. Several of the doors to the balcony are open letting in a much warmer breeze than this morning but still very cool.

Thor finally spots you sitting at your vanity, your hand pressed to the inside of your elbow as you hold a small cotton ball against the point at which one of your doctors probably drew some blood.

Even that tiny sting of a needle piercing your beautiful skin makes his heart ache. Any pain you feel is his own and he can’t believe he forgot what today was.

“Cherub?”

You don’t look at him and instead keep your hand pressed tightly, fingers moving in slow and small circles.

He can’t see your face from here. You’re turned away, sitting with your gaze trained on the balcony doors closest to your vanity.

Thor can’t take you not looking at him. He sets his satchel on the chaise at the end of the bed and when he reaches your left side, he squats down so that he can look up at you, his right hand taking gentle hold under your left bicep. His left hand he places over your right one, pressed against the inside of your left elbow.

“I’m sorry about today. I forgot they were coming for your tests,” Thor confesses, feeling so guilty he could leap from the balcony and welcome the pain of any bones he might break.

The silence is heavy and he thinks he might really be in for it and opens his mouth to plead for your forgiveness when you give him relief, “So did I.”

He breathes in deeply and with a wave of relief releases his worries in a gust of air.

“Alric said that things did not look good. You’re not with child?”

Even though he knows, he still needs to hear you say it. He wants to know what you’re thinking to make whatever is making your face look so sad go away.

He takes his right hand and runs it along your lower back instead, rubbing in what he hopes is a soothing way.

Finally, you turn your head towards your vanity and he can see more of your heartbreaking expression. He hasn’t seen that loss of hope in your beautiful face since the night you begged him not to make a fool of you just before dinner on a night that feels a lifetime away.

“No, it-it wasn’t a no. The test was inconclusive.”

“Inconclusive? So, what does that mean? Does that mean they don’t know?” Thor asks, confusion twisting his handsome face.

“No, it just means that the test didn’t come back in any way that they could read it. We’re not exactly the same species even if we are compatible physically, we don’t know if we can even get pregnant. They took more of my blood and are going to do the test with more reliable equipment.

“They’ll call when they know something,” you sigh heavily, leaning back against your seat and trapping his hand between it and your body.

Thor tries to think of what he can say to make you feel better. What can he do?

And then what he has to say doesn’t matter as you turn to meet his gaze with your own full of betrayal and suspicion.

When your mouth parts, your words freeze him and his brain short circuits.

“I saw you with Jane earlier on the tower, Thor. I’m sorry but I-I thought you were going to come find me as soon as you got back, not your ex.”

You take a deep breath and Thor watches as your nerves spill forward, your lips trembling as you slowly exhale and all of your fears shine out through the depths of your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you crying, cherub?” Thor gushes, pulling his hand from your back to turn your seat to face him.

He cups both sides of your face, his large thumbs wiping away at the tears that spring forward.

It had seriously messed with you to see him and Jane so happy and close earlier. And then the tests and Doctor Alric and Doctor Wilson had no idea what was wrong with them so that was stressing you out.

All of your jealousy and frustration pours out of you suddenly. So fast and so unrelenting that with just this small bit of affection from Thor makes you shut your eyes tight as you sob two-three times.

“Y/N...no, my love, please. Don’t cry,” Thor begs, his own throat tight as he pulls you towards him.

You let him hold you because as insecure as you feel, as upset as this morning has made you, his love still feels real. The softness in his voice doesn’t sound fake and as much as he is the source of one of the aches in your chest, he’s your comfort now too.

How fucked up is that?!

He caresses the back of your head as you bury it against his shoulder, slumped down a little because of how low he is in his squat.

His other arm is wrapped all the way around you, firm. Possessive and eager to make you feel better. Can you trust this display?

Until this morning you had no reason to doubt it.

“We will have our baby soon, I know it. I can feel it. I’m not only the God of Thunder, you know? Trust me, cherub. I know these things. We’ll have our little one before you know it.”

He sounds so confident, so sure. He’s lost that tightness in his throat a little and he pushes you back so that he can look into your eyes, quickly wiping away at the saltwater stains on your cheeks.

“As for your former worry, I went to the tower because the lights were on. I wasn’t sure who was there so I simply went to check. I wasn’t expecting Jane out of all the people it could have possibly been.

“I’d hoped it was you, finally making use of the tower for your own office to write or perhaps your own personal library?” Thor’s instincts on what you might want a private space to be.

You suddenly feel foolish for doubting him for even a second. It makes you cry again, and you bury your face in your hands.

“No, my love, please don’t cry anymore,” he continues to beg. “Look, I’ve brought you a gift.”

He gets up suddenly and moves towards the package he’d been carrying when he came in. It wasn’t large. About the size of a shoebox.

“I thought of you when I was passing over Paris on my way home. You can eat them all at once or slowly, whichever you prefer,” He flips open the leather satchel and from inside pulls a thick and shiny rust colored box with a satin brown ribbon that delicately holds it closed.

It looks expensive and he doesn’t wait for you to take it since you’re too busy wiping at your cheeks and sniffling to grab it. He pushes the ribbon off of the box then removes the lid and places it underneath while tossing the ribbon onto your vanity.

“I’m not sure what each of them is, but you don’t have to eat the ones you don’t like. I’ll eat them for you,” he pushes fancy gold tissue paper aside to expose the contents within.

Inside the box is a tray of twenty-four chocolate pieces. Some of them have designs painted on them with what is more likely more chocolate in bright colors and patterns. Other pieces look to be decorated in plain chocolate with small embossed hearts, triangles, or teeny tiny bows.

The box is too thick for this to be all there is, so you’re pretty sure there are two trays of chocolates.

“Do you like them?” Thor checks, his voice light and rising at the end gently almost as if he’s talking to a small child which maybe should offend you?

But it doesn’t because you know that’s not what he means by the tone he’s using. He’s being as gentle with you as he can in your moment of sad anxiety and you love him so much for it.

“They’re so pretty…” you hiccup, wishing you weren’t so emotional and crying all over his lovely gift.

“That’s not all,” he tells you, putting the chocolates on your vanity to free up his hands to reach into his satchel again.

You quickly cover the chocolates, pushing the ribbon around the sleek container before they can be ruined.

Thor tosses the satchel onto the chaise with a flick of his wrist but draws your attention to him when he places another box on your lap. This one is much smaller, but wide and square.

“Happy two months of marriage, cherub,” Thor says softly, then carefully lifts the lid of his second gift.

Nestled within lush purple velvet is a beautiful platinum chain, thin, short so that the gorgeous lotus flower with your birthstone gem settled at its very center will sit just below your collarbone.

“It’s so beautiful, Thor.”

All of a sudden you’re crying again.

Thor smiles and rises again, taking the necklace from inside the box which he tosses onto the chaise too before moving around behind you to slip the necklace around your neck.

You reach up to place your fingers on the pretty flower, sniffling and trying not to make your crying too vocal but a sob or two slips out.

Thor moves back around you and takes a long look at your mess of a face before he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, “Come here, love.”

He waits for you to stand then takes your spot on your seat but then leads you down onto his lap.

Reaching up with his hand, he gives the back of your neck a squeeze while his other hand finds a resting spot on your thigh.

“Is it Jane still upsetting you?” he guesses.

You nod, unwilling to say it aloud.

“Why? What exactly is it that’s troubling you?”

He genuinely doesn’t seem to understand. While he might understand your nerves about her, the reason you’re still crying is lost on him.

You don’t want to say, but Thor bounces you a little in his lap, taking his hand to caress the side of your face and hold your gaze.

“Nothing you can say will make me love you any less.” A promise.

“When I saw you two this morning, you just looked so h-happy,” your lip quivers. “You looked happy. Pleased. You were smiling that one smile that’s only supposed to be mine.”

For some reason Thor’s chest puffs up a little, a proud fix to his chin as he reaches up to grab yours and give your head a little shake.

“It is all yours, cherub. I am completely yours. I was so happy when I was with Jane this morning because I felt nothing of what I’d once felt for her. I had no stuttering in my heart, no butterflies in my belly. I wasn’t taken by her eyes or tempted by her lips.”

“Alright, I get the picture,” you grumble, hating everything he’s describing even though you know he’s telling you that he wasn’t feeling any of it.

He chuckles, bringing his hand down to rest on your hip.

“I was happy because Jane is no longer the source of all of that for me. You are. All meeting her so unexpectedly proved is that I am more in love with you than I ever thought I could be. You were my arranged match. The most I had ever expected was friendship. And when that turned into more, I wondered if it could really be more than what I ever felt for Jane and it is.

“Jane was always a dear love but you are family. It’s only been a short time since we married but you are more my love than Jane ever was. You’re my cherub!”

He doesn’t wait for you to recover from his little speech. He hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you down for a kiss.

It quickly changes and shifts and the lonely night you’d spent tense and worried, missing him, explodes you onto him. You’re both a frenzy of movement, Thor ripping away at his armor until he’s in the plain dark undershirt and a very small pair of black briefs.

You’re about to push him onto your bed when he suddenly grabs you and tosses you around his massive body and onto the bed to bounce as you land with a gasp.

He shoves his briefs down, still kicking them away as he steps towards you and gathers the long skirts of your dress higher and higher around your hips.

“Thor…” you whisper, a gasp of anticipation which drives him a little wild as he yanks you closer to the edge of the bed and thrusts into you with a shaky groan.

He goes still for a moment, hooking his hands around your thighs more securely. He bottoms out, sheathing his cock within you until you reach down to scratch at the bottom of his shirt then his hands as you fall back against the bed.

“Please,” you plead and he quickly obliges.

He pumps into you, filling you to the brim with no intention of ever stopping.

~~~~~~~~~~

You and Thor eventually come out of your room. You dressed in your carefully chosen dress and Thor a little less regal in a pair of crisp dark jeans, and layered up in a green sweater over a blue button up collar shirt over a plain white t-shirt.

Honestly though, even in his slightly more casual ensemble, Thor screams royalty. He’s so beautiful.

Both of you giggling like giddy kids, he pulls you closer and loops your arm through his.

It makes you happy that he likes you close by. He proves it now as he leans down to whisper so that only you can hear him as the palace staff moves about cleaning and fixing up the rooms that have been used throughout the day.

“I’m a little glad you’ve decided not to use the tower for a workspace.” Thor confesses.

“How come?” you wonder, turning your face to look at him, genuinely curious as to the change of mind. He’d been so insistent before about you having your own personal space to work in peace where no one could bother you and you didn’t have to give up writing your stories even if you were now Queen of New Asgard.

“I don’t know if I could stand having you that far away from me. Our night apart has only driven that home for me. I want you always at my side.”

His sentiment is sweet and you stop to turn and face him, reaching up to place your hands on his bearded cheeks to smoosh them because he’s so damn adorable. He’s massive so you have to push yourself up, lifting your heels a little to do so comfortably.

“Do you have any idea how incredibly lovable that makes you?” you ask.

He smiles despite you morphing his face, beaming down at you with a look that must mean he loves you. Everything he says has to be true. The more you think about it, the more you realize that your jealousy, while founded, doesn’t make any sense now that you’re married.

Not after everything the two of you have shared and been through. Not after all the time you’ve spent building this foundation with him. 

“Quite a lot more than I was before?” he guesses. “Only, maybe not when I go to the bathroom?”

Through your smile you tilt your head to the side a little, confused by his amendment to his desires.

“Why?” What difference does it make?

He drops his voice to a whisper and leans down a little closer to you, “Sometimes I have smelly poops.”

You’re not expecting that and throw your head back as a loud unfiltered laugh rips through you. The movement pulls you down flat onto your feet but Thor catches you with one arm around your waist to pull you back up onto your toes and against his hard body.

He’s laughing too as he dips down and kisses your laughing mouth, silencing you a little so that it’s only air slipping through your lips as you kiss him back.

It’s just a long held peck. He’s relishing in the feel of your lips against his as your body shakes with more laughter.

Still laughing with you, Thor pulls back and gripes, “Stop laughing and kiss me!”

You drop your head against his chest as you keep laughing, unable to help it because the cuteness of him being self-conscious about his smelly poops is too much for you to handle.

Especially considering that you’ve both already been in the bathroom together when the other is using the toilet.

He loosens his arm around your waist so that you fall down a little further but keeps his hand resting on the small of your back while the other hand he places on the back of your head, caressing it as you chuckle weakly from laughing so much.

The sound of a clearing throat brings both your heads turning to the end of the hallway.

Your visiting trio stand there, Tony smirking, Bruce smiling shyly, Jane averts her eyes.

“Uh, get a room?” Tony suggests, but you can tell from his tone that he’s only teasing.

“Where do you think we’ve been all morning?” Thor grins, readjusting with you to hook your arm on his elbow before leading you towards your guests.

“So that’s what those screams were,” Tony counters.

Thor wiggles his eyebrows at them but your neck burns and your mouth pops open in surprise and embarrassment.

You start to fret, hands fluttering up towards your new necklace as you look from Tony to Jane, who’s looking at her shoes, to Bruce who is smiling with his own laughter in his eyes.

“Was I-? I didn’t mean to-! Thor, I didn’t know that I was being-” your panic is real and your heart is thrumming a million miles an hour.

“He’s teasing you, cherub, don’t worry,” Thor assures you, dropping your arm from his elbow to wrap his own arm around your waist to pull you into his side again.

You turn to Tony and he’s laughing a little. Not maliciously, just purely entertained by your reaction.

“I-a joke?” you ask him, still uncertain.

“Sorry,” Tony says, nodding. “Just a joke.”

You swallow hard, trying to settle your heartbeat.

Thor kisses your head and like a switch is flipped, all of them shift into work mode.

“Have you started installing the security system?” Thor asks Tony and all together the five of you move down into the lowest level of the palace which actually happens to be a dungeon?

You’re not really listening to their conversation as you move with them, still flustered about you possibly letting all of your sex noises reverberate through the halls of the palace for everyone to hear, but when you reach a large vault-like door, you start to focus again.

As the heavy door slides open like part of some futuristic spaceship, you’re thrown into a large room about the size of the throne room where you’d had your wedding reception only it looks nothing like the rest of the palace.

This place looks more like the Avengers compound. High-tech stations line the walls, large monitors with readings you don’t understand and camera footage from places you recognize from around New Asgard and the palace itself.

There’s a full crew working all of the stations, Asgardians and humans, all of them wearing the same charcoal gray uniforms, splashes of gold and red like Thor’s cape on their shoulders and chests.

As you and Thor enter, they stop what they’re doing to stand at attention, bowing to both of you as Thor leads you to the center of the room where a large stone table is set with schematics of plans that you don’t understand.

Tony moves over to them and starts to sift through the many scrolls all laid out for viewing while Thor nods to the crew.

“At ease, my friends.”

He’s so nice. The crew fall back into their respective jobs.

One of them moves towards a large screen against the wall, a TV you realize, playing different news footage from all over the world.

He flips to another channel and you pull away from Thor to walk and stand beside the crewman who stands taller once you’re beside him.

He turns to you and gives you a quick bow, “Your Majesty.”

Turning to him, you smile and then look back at the screen, “To monitor any weird things happening around Earth?”

“Yes, m’am,” he asserts then flips the channel again.

This time it’s a documentary style report, you see a familiar scene. New York in shambles as Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, the Hulk, Captain America, and your Thor fight off the invading Chitauri.

Slowly another body settles beside you, its warmth drawing your attention to it.

“I still remember that day, sort of,” Bruce says gently, his voice always so easy and calm.

It’s hard to believe he can turn into the giant Hulk in seconds.

“Was it scary?”

“Sort of. I think for me, I was just worried that Hulk would hurt someone other than the aliens. But by then I think he understood what side we were on.” Bruce nods.

“But, aren’t you the Hulk?” His words confuse you a little.

“Well, yeah, but also no. He’s like another half of me? If that makes sense? I haven’t worked out how to combine both sides yet. I’m there, I’m just...it’s like someone takes who you are and reduces you to your most basic instincts.

“We’re almost like two different people but we’re also the same person. I’m working on understanding our connection better. Underneath the Hulk, I’m still me. I’m still there I think. I’m just trapped for some reason.”

The two of you watch the screen in silence for a moment then Thor shows up, blasting the Chitauri with his lightning. He looks a little different because he has both eyes and his hair!

“Thor had long hair,” you realize, gushing a little.

“Did I look better with long hair?” his deep voice slips into your right ear and you jump not having been expecting it.

“Not better,” you promise him, smiling at him before turning your eyes back on the TV. “Just different. It suits you.”

“Should I grow it back?”

With excitement, you turn to face him and he chuckles at whatever look you have in your eyes, “Would you? Wouldn’t it bother you?”

“If it will make you look at me the way you’ve been staring at me on that television, I will go out and buy a wig.”

You laugh and Thor leans down to give you a quick peck.

“It’s that time of year I guess,” Tony says, sliding over to stand on Bruce’s other side where Jane is already standing having moved over at some point.

She still hasn’t said anything.

“What time of year?” You wonder.

“Oh, in Spring they always start to play footage on some of the news channels about Loki’s party days in New York. Some type of anniversary celebration or something? Only it’s more like a wake.”

“It’s a memorium,” you realize, then look at Thor who seems to sense your upset.

He wraps his arm around you and settles in beside you, kissing the top of your head again.

“Where is Loki?” you ask him, frowning with worry and wondering if it must upset him to have one of his biggest mistakes thrown in his face for weeks.

“He’s tending to business with the guard. He’ll come find us when he’s finished,” Thor promises.

After a tense moment, Tony claps his hands and then pats Bruce’s shoulder, “Shall we? Pepper wants me home by Friday so that we can explore the wonderful art of tantric massage.”

As Bruce turns to follow Tony back to the center table where a new console computer has come from a panel at the center you hadn’t noticed, he gives him a skeptical look.

“Pepper? Are you sure it isn’t you pushing the tantric massage?” Bruce sounds like he already knows the answer.

Tony shrugs, “I’m not the bossy anymore.”

You look back at the TV, your worry only spiking at the thought of Loki coming down here and finding all of you watching.

“Change it to something else,” you tell the crewman. “Make sure no one puts it on that channel again.”

“Yes, m’am,” he bows his head in obedience and quickly changes the channel while moving to a small box hooked up to it where a small screen comes out and he quickly goes about pressing buttons hopefully blocking any and all sources of that footage so that Loki doesn’t accidentally have his face shoved into his past.

“Don’t worry, my cherub. Loki is well aware of what the Earth grieves at this time of year. He won’t be blindsided by it.”

“I still don’t like it,” you insist, unable to shake the frown from your face.

“Thor?” Jane’s voice interrupts you both softly.

He looks at her and you give her a glance before turning to look at the news reports on the TV.

“I’m gonna need one of these mainframes for the telescope. Which one can I take?”

“Right,” Thor nods, “Of course. Let’s find you a place to work.”

Before he leaves you he leans in and kisses the side of your head again, squeezing your hip before he moves with Jane away towards the many workstations in the very large room.

After getting everything sorted out this morning, your heart doesn’t even sway towards jealousy and even though you’re worried about Loki, you breathe a sigh of relief that your realization about Thor’s loyalty has really engrained itself into you.

He loves you and nothing will change that. Even as they laugh somewhere behind you, your confidence doesn’t waver.

You reach up and touch the lotus on your necklace, a shining reminder of Thor missing you on his very first night away from you since your wedding.

You’re sure now that no one will ever come between you and Thor.

No one.

[stufftippywrote]

infinities within infinities

"Don't get me wrong," Xie Lian says, "I'm really grateful for the donation, but I don't think it's right to name the library after me."

But the man in the three-piece suit seems insistent. "You're a groundbreaking force in the world of philosophy," he says ardently. "I've read your Man, Thrice Ascended at least ten times. What you have to say about the concept of self as the infinite is revolutionary." He grins. The leather of the eyepatch over his right eye gleams in the sunlight. "The least you deserve is to have libraries named after you."

Xie Lian looks him over. This Hua Cheng is known as a reclusive billionaire, but there’s nothing withdrawn about him now, as he surveys Xie Lian with a bright eye. Instead, he’s almost preternaturally relaxed, hands in his pockets, smiling as bright as if he’d captured the sun. Despite the money and the insistent words, there’s nothing intimidating about him.. Xie Lian rather likes him.

“Well, thank you, I suppose, Mr. Hua,” he says carefully. He still isn’t sure about the Xie Philosophy Library concept. He looks up at the building and tries to imagine his name on the placard; it just seems preposterous. The dreams of a very young graduate student who thought he could change the whole nature of philosophy. Now, a fool’s wish. That it would be granted so suddenly, and by the young man in front of him who can’t be out of his twenties? Unimaginable.

“No need to thank me,” Hua Cheng says, shaking his head. “The very least I could do. Do you need a ride anywhere, Professor?”

**

Hua Cheng’s car might as well be a spaceship for how much it sticks out among the dumpy minivans and compact cars that surround it in the parking lot. Black, sleek, and gleaming, it truly seems to have beamed here from some point in a glittering future. Hua Cheng unlocks it with the touch of a button, and then, with another, the passenger side door swings open of its own volition. Xie Lian peeks inside. The interior is black as well, but for some touches that stand out in burning crimson.

“Go on, Professor.” Hua Cheng is leaning on his side of the car, casting a sideways glance at him. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Xie Lian obeys, ducking his head to get in. “You really needn’t call me Professor,” he says as Hua Cheng joins him on the driver’s side.

“What should I call you, then?” Hua Cheng’s smile is devastatingly brilliant, and Xie Lian is glad he’s sitting, because his knees have just gone to jelly. “I could call you gege, if it’s not too informal.”

He’s teasing -- at least, Xie Lian thinks he’s teasing -- but honestly the word comes out of his mouth more naturally than professor, and Xie Lian likes the sound of it better. “Gege is fine,” he says lightly.

“But in return,” Hua Cheng says, starting up the car, “you have to call me San Lang.”

“Why?” There’s something buzzing in Xie Lian’s brain now about the concept of naming, what we call ourselves versus what others call us, but he shunts it aside.

“Why do you think?” The car pulls out of its space, and a low rumble echoes in Xie Lian’s gut as it starts to navigate the parking lot. Hua Cheng is glancing at him between peeks in the rearview mirror. “You know what they say about us billionaires, we’re eccentric. Humor me.”

“Very well, San Lang,” Xie Lian replies, and he likes the sound of that, too.

It’s ten minutes of buzzing around the downtown streets before Xie Lian realizes he never gave a destination. “San Lang,” he says carefully, “where are we going?”

“Here and there,” Hua Cheng says. “I want to pick your brain about Man, Thrice Ascended.”

“Oh.” Xie Lian is flattered, and honestly the concept of riding around aimlessly in this sleek machine appeals to him. “Go right ahead, then.”

“To tell you the truth,” Hua Cheng says, “I have trouble wrapping my head around the concept of the self as infinite. Unless you believe in a higher power, the concept of self seems painfully finite to me, as it only exists between birth and death. Isn’t that a pretty limited span?”

“Only temporally,” Xie Lian replies. “Did you know that there are 22 million seconds in the average lifetime?”

“22 million is a lot, but it’s not infinity,” Hua Cheng counters.

“Ah, but a second isn’t instantaneous. Seconds take time. If you’ve ever tried to hold a plank for more than a minute, you know that well.” And he really does look like the type who could hold it. If not for two. “The unit of time I’d rather use is the moment.”

Hua Cheng glances at him. The car pulls onto the highway. “The moment?” he asks, gently spurring Xie Lian forward.

“Exactly,” Xie Lian says. “The moment is instantaneous. Maybe there are hundreds of millions of moments in the span of a single second of time. Maybe more than that. We can conceptualize, then, that each second of a lifetime contains within it infinite moments, and each lifetime 22 million infinities.”

“But a moment is hardly an appreciable measure of time,” Hua Cheng says. “How many moments can we experience as moments with our limited consciousness? The moments experienced are still finite to the mind of the human who tries to count them. Even if you count as fast as you can, you can’t count to 100 within the space of a single second, much less infinity.”

“You’re asking good questions,” Xie Lian comments.

Hua Cheng glows a little. “I told you, I’ve read the book a thousand times.”

“Well, if you did read the book, then you know that our concept of moments here is merely a framework.” They’re driving along the coast now, the bay blue and the sun starting its daily fizzle from yellow to red. “The infinities that truly populate the self are not of time, but of possibility.”

“Infinite choice in each moment.” Hua Cheng nods. “Explain it to me one more time, please, won’t you, gege?”

There’s a little plaintive moan in his voice - just a sliver of an entreaty - and it gives Xie Lian the goosebumps. Here is someone who’s truly appreciating his work, and he’s pleasant to look at and his voice is pleasant to the ear, and Xie Lian is reeling with how much good sensation is rolling into him with every second of this drive. It’s like the best of good dreams, and he doesn’t want to think of it ending.

“In any moment -- and I do mean moment, with our earlier definition,” he says, “I could lean to the left. I could lean to the right. I could blink. I could lean to the left but just a little bit harder. I could think of the color red. I could think of the color blue. I could speak. I could stay silent. I could open the door and throw myself out of this car, if I wanted.”

“Please don’t,” Hua Cheng interjects, sounding a little unnerved.

“It’s just a possibility,” Xie Lian reminds him. “There are, essentially, an infinite number of things I could do with each moment of my life. Each of them takes some time, but the process of choosing is instantaneous. So you have infinite possibilities in every single moment of infinite moments.”

“Not infinite possibilities," counters Hua Cheng. "What you decide to do in one moment, as you said, takes time. The time it takes to perform that action necessarily negates the infinite nature of the next moment. You can’t make certain decisions while performing other actions.”

“Your possibilities are still infinite in each moment,” Xie Lian argues. “Just because some actions can’t be taken doesn’t mean there aren’t still infinite possibilities open to you. Think of numbers. An infinite number of numbers end in the digit 4. It’s still an infinite set, even though numbers that end in the digit 5 aren’t included.”

Hua Cheng frowns. “Perhaps my limited mind isn’t fully able to capture it,” he says after a time. “You’re very impressive, gege.”

Heat blooms in Xie Lian’s cheeks. “Thus,” he says, “we have the three ascensions. When the mind is able to grasp the concept of infinity within limited time, it ascends once. The second ascension comes when one accepts that infinite actions can be performed within that limited time. And the third ascension…”

“...is when the mind grasps that the possibilities are infinite for each of an infinite number of moments,” Hua Cheng fills in. “Infinities within infinities, all within the self.”

They’ve pulled off to a scenic outlook point on the bay. Hua Cheng eases the car into one of three parking spots and turns off the engine. He turns to Xie Lian. “Gege always explains it so well,” he says brightly. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Xie Lian can feel the flush creeping into his cheeks. He looks away. “You’re welcome.”

Another beep, and the car’s doors are opening again. Hua Cheng gets up, rounds the car to Xie Lian’s side, and holds out his hand.

They stand for a time side by side, watching the reddening sun dip its toes into the rippling water of the bay. There’s a strange peace to standing here, Xie Lian thinks, with this person he barely knows but is so ardent about his work. I’m safe. I’m appreciated. The sureness of that is unexpected but so, so welcome. Xie Lian thinks back, trying to remember the last time he felt that way. He can’t recall.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs. Cars thunder past on the road behind them.

“This is one of my favorite spots,” Hua Cheng says. “I’m always taken by the vastness of the ocean here. It seems so full.” He gestures down to where the water buffets the base of the cliffs below them. “Like it’s a moment from overflowing.”

Xie Lian ponders this. “I’ve never thought of the ocean as full or not,” he says. “The implication being that no more water can be added; that it’s complete as is, existing within its bounds.”

“It’s a philosophical puzzle, isn’t it?” says Hua Cheng lightly. “Of course, climate change is solving it as we speak. Rising sea levels and all. It seems the ocean has the potential to be boundless, even as we denote lines between sea and shore.”

“And the question then becomes, how accurately can we draw those lines? And is it human folly to even attempt to do so?”

“Of course,” Hua Cheng says, “none of these problems has practical application.”

Xie Lian laughs. “Most of philosophy has no practical application. That’s why it’s philosophy.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hua Cheng replies. “Your philosophy has had effects on my psychology, at the very least. To think of myself as infinite has changed the way I look at the world.”

“And how does it look?” Xie Lian inquires, tilting his head.

Hua Cheng gazes at him, then turns back to face the sea. “Boundless,” he says.

Xie Lian nods. The wind whips past them, whispering coldly against his cheeks and ears. He shudders.

Without a word, Hua Cheng removes his long coat and drapes it over Xie Lian’s shoulders. The coat is warm with his body heat, and all that heat seeps into Xie Lian in a rush. He draws in a breath. When Hua Cheng’s fingers touch his neck to adjust the collar, he wants to shiver again, this time not from the cold.

“Gege.” Hua Cheng’s honey-rich, low voice touches his ear like the strains of a cello. “Would you let me take you someplace nice?”

Xie Lian looks out at the darkening bay. He thinks of the view from his office window, the wall of an adjoining brick building. He could go back there, write and read until the early morning hours. Perhaps he would sleep on the cot he’s laid out in there. Staring at the mottled ceiling, contemplating eternity.

Or he could go with Hua Cheng, who is holding out his hand, looking hopeful.

Xie Lian takes it.

They drive for another 10 minutes along the coast, then take an exit into an area filled with green fields. Huge houses dot the landscape -- this is the domain of the super-rich, Xie Lian thinks, because these fields aren’t used for farming. They’re simply green as far as the eye can see, well-manicured, sometimes interrupted by copses of grand old trees with outstretched branches. Some of the houses are surrounded by lush flower gardens. It’s not an area Xie Lian’s ever been too, nor does it seem like the kind of place he would want to live. But it’s fascinating just to see it for the first time.

Hua Cheng pulls down a narrow road, then turns onto another. Xie Lian squints as he makes out something odd on the horizon. Whatever it is, it’s silver, and a cluster of buildings sit low and flat around it. When wide concrete paths start to interrupt the endless greenery, he realizes what he’s looking at.

“I thought,” he says gingerly, “when you said someplace nice, you meant a fancy restaurant.”

“We can go to a restaurant,” Hua Cheng answers airily. He pulls the car into the yard, and they park. Holding Xie Lian’s fingers loosely, he leads him along the paths toward the airfield. The private jet sits on the runway like a horse at the gate, already humming. A movable staircase leads up to the main entrance. A number of people are working around it. One of them sees the pair approaching and offers Hua Cheng a bow.

“How soon can we be ready?” Hua Cheng asks him.

“Twenty minutes,” the man says. “We’ve been prepping since we got your text.”

Xie Lian wonders when Hua Cheng had managed to text them. “This is your plane?” A silly question; Hua Cheng nods easily, as though everyone has a private airfield with a jet ready to go at any moment. “Where are you taking me?”

Hua Cheng meets his gaze with a smile. “Where would you like to go? Tokyo? Hong Kong? Thailand is stunning this time of year.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian starts, his heart pounding. Hua Cheng smiles that much more widely at the sound of the name. “Isn’t this a little…”

“Much?” Hua Cheng finishes for him. “Not at all. Not for gege.” He lays a hand on the small of Xie Lian’s back -- Xie Lian gasps at the touch -- and ushers him forward until they are both standing at the bottom of that staircase, the airplane’s door a wide unblinking eye at the top. Hua Cheng bows and makes a gesture with his hand toward the staircase -- after you.

Xie Lian’s brain rockets into high gear. He has brought nothing with him but his briefcase, and even that is still in the car. No one knows where he is or where he’s going. He’s traveled a little in life -- nothing too far from home -- but this would be a trip like no other, totally unplanned and utterly irresponsible. Every ounce of common sense in his brain is urging him to shake his head politely and back away.

But this man. This fascinating man, who is offering him the world. For every voice inside Xie Lian that says no, there’s a current of pulsing blood in his veins whispering yes, yes.

“I’m not sure,” he begins, tentatively.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmurs, “You speak of self as containing an infinity of possibilities for every moment of life. But the paradox of infinity is that some infinities are larger than others. At this moment, you have more possibilities than ever before. Given those infinite possibilities, at this moment, what will you choose?”

He’s right. The possibilities facing him right now are truly endless. And hidden in Hua Cheng’s words, there is a challenge -- do you dare? And Xie Lian finds, to his surprise, that he does. He not only dares, he wants. To see this through, to learn more about this man, to take a crazy chance. His heart is pounding with the force of his desire. And once, just once in his studious, conservative life, he listens to it.

He smiles at Hua Cheng, lifts one hand to the railing of the staircase, and begins to ascend.

[imissjoongsmullet]

My Prince (6 - final)

Pairing: Minghao x reader

Genre: fluff/(angst)

Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill

Word Count: 6.5K

Author’s Note:

This final chapter finally fulfills the premise that this is in fact fluff. I promise I’m done breaking your hearts now, woohoo!

My Prince has grown so near and dear to my heart. I don’t usually write long fanfics so this was really quite special. I know I might sound overly dramatic or corny to some of you (and that’s okay). It’s just, I try to be intentional with everything I do. That’s why I wanted to do this right. That’s why I’ve gotten so attached. That’s why it’s taken me forever to finish as well probably haha!

This story is far from perfect. There are countless things that I would have liked to sculpt out more... but I think for that to have happened this would have to become a full on novel and that’s not what this was ever meant to be, so I’ve got to let go of those thoughts and just send it out into the world as it is.

In any case, I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed reading this story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. As always, please let me know what you think. As a writer, any type of feedback makes my heart flutter~

Thank you for all the love and support ♥

►

You fell to the floor, your shriek buried in the chaos that surrounded you. There was so much noise so suddenly and none of it sounded good. Panicked, you raised your head to see the entrance to the room had been broken wide open and soldiers in silver and black attire were pouring in, brandishing swords, fire and crossbows. Yientan. Another cry left your lips as you scrambled backwards until you hit the wall behind you. They were here. They must have found out about the wedding and wanted to stop it before a legend could take away their power.

Strong hands grabbed you by the collar and you screamed out for help. You struggled in your attempt to pry the stranger off of you until you noticed the face that belonged to it.

“Come on!” Minghao ordered, dragging you up. He took your hand and set off at a sprint, leaving behind the bulk of the commotion. You could hear banging and screaming from other directions as well though. They must have the whole castle surrounded. Luckily Minghao knew all the secret, little passages attackers tended to overlook. It didn’t take long for you to realize where he was taking you. Before you could come to your senses, you were dragged through the heavy doors to Minghao’s private chambers and sat onto his bed.

“Stay here,” he said, kneeling at your side, clasping your palms in your lap, “don’t leave until it’s all over.” He got up and turned to leave.

“Wait!” you called, stopping him midway, “you can’t go out there!”

“I have to,” he replied stone faced.

“No!” Now it was you holding onto him. “Please don’t—” Your fingers dug into his robes with desperation.

“I have a responsibility,” he said, “I have to go—”

“Then I’m coming too,” you cut in but he shook his head.

“You can’t help,” he explained, “I can so I’m going.” He eyed you sternly for a few more seconds before softening. He sighed, brushing his hand over your cheek lovingly and finally saying, “do not follow me.”

“Hao, please,” you called as he pulled away. You ran to him just in time to keep him from shutting the door behind him entirely. Only a sliver of his face was visible in the gap.

“Stay safe,” he said, before vanishing.

In stunned silence you let the doors fall shut. You walked over to the bed and sat down because your legs felt shaky and your head dizzyingly light. Outside, the uproar continued to grow but Minghao had told you to stay. Your heart ached. It pulled and tugged at you, trying to get you to move but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to disappoint him. Your fingers wrapped around one of the silk pillows on his bed. Closing your eyes, you hugged the thing close. It was all you could do not to cry. You just wanted everything to be okay— for everything to go back to normal. But you supposed none of Minghao’s life had ever really been normal.

A loud crashing sound made you jump. Some large piece of glass must have just shattered somewhere. You got up from the bed and began to pace the room. You clamped your hands over your ears in a miserable attempt to shut out the madness. Shutting your eyes didn’t help either. The itch to do something was growing unbearable. When a few minutes later a crack so deep it was like walls crumbling made the wooden floor tremble, you decided that enough was enough.

Head in overdrive, you went for the window. Its balcony was wide and looked out over the east side of the gardens. Tonight, there were only balls of fire within the dark. With a sickening lurch, you thought of your parents. Had they managed to hide or escape? Or had the attackers set flame to their house while they slept, trapping them in an excruciating death? Panicking, you went for the balcony ledge. Once your feet found balance, you grabbed onto the ornate pillars and started to climb. The plan seemed insane and yet, somehow you felt like the adventurous prince had definitely made this climb before. With that information fueling your confidence, you made it onto the roof above the prince’s chambers.

From here, you could see most of the castle and its grounds. A landscape of hills and valleys lay before you in the form of various curved rooftops. It would have been quite beautiful if it hadn’t been for the screams and the fire. You didn’t know what you were doing, really. You just wanted to know everything was going to be alright. Besides, you’d never forgive yourself if something happened to Minghao while you hid away like a coward.

How many people were fighting down there? How much of a chance did they stand against Yientan? And what could Minghao possibly do in all this? You didn’t even know if he knew how to fight.

Hunching down to a crouch, you made your way toward the center part of the castle. You looked down wherever you could, trying to get a feel of the situation. You saw two servant girls running on a deck as they cried. You saw men fighting in little courtyards, blood staining their clothes. You saw the wooden walkway towards the prince’s library collapse in flames. All of this roused an anger in you that surprised you. You’d never been the bravest of people— you still weren’t. But something was taking over you. It didn’t matter that this castle had been the bane of your existence for the past few months. The castle was under attack and you felt it as you’d feel an attack on your own family. You jumped from roof to roof, wracking your brain over a way to help.

Something sharp whooshed past you and you gasped. You were just in time to turn around and see the Yientan soldier standing on a nearby rooftop, reaching for another arrow. You ducked away towards a lower part of the roof, suddenly feeling the sharp sting on your cheek. There were hurried footsteps behind you and you were running out of options. Your rooftopped landscape came to an end as you happened upon the center courtyard of the castle, where more soldiers fought.

Hoping fiercely you weren’t making the wrong decision, you jumped.

The landing was harsh and you failed to stifle the noise that fought to come out your mouth. A man dressed in silver and black turned your way.

Wasting no time, hopped onto the deck and dashed into the nearest corridor, running as fast as you could in your clumsy servant’s robes. You were disoriented and scared but also determent to outrun the soldier. The long hallways of the castle once again felt like a devious maze, trying to suffocate you. You turned a corner and half-fell-half-jumped down a narrow flight of stairs. Ignoring the sting in your left leg, you rushed along a half open deck, ducked under a low archway that lead you down to the underbelly of the castle. Here, it was pitch black except for the spaced out torch light that hung from the walls. Luckily, you knew where you were going. This lowest level of the castle was used for storage and servant work deemed too dirty to be looked upon by the masters. You took a right through a small door, finding yourself in one of the washrooms the servants used. Just as the soldier’s feet hit the wood floor behind you, you opened one of the closets and grabbed as many fresh sheets as you possibly could, throwing them over him. You watched him struggle for only the fraction of a second before escaping through a side door. You knew exactly where to hide.

You reached your destination within a minute, lowering yourself into a little crawlspace underneath the floorboards of the broom closet servants used to hide from Tou Ma when she was angry. You’d only have to wait a few minutes for the soldier to give up and leave and then you’d be safe. You were about to close up the floorboards when you heard the most dreadful sound in the world.

It was Minghao. He was screaming.

Without a second thought, you burst back into the corridor. You followed the echo of the scream in your mind. It wasn’t far off. It was right here, under the castle. You tried every door, finding deserted room after deserted room, wondering why Minghao was even here, hidden away from all the commotion.

Aside from the soldier that had followed you down, you hadn’t seen a single person down this low. Perhaps you’d imagined it, you thought, just as you slid through another open door you knew lead to the pantry.

The most shocking thing was not that Minghao was there; it was that the emperor of Namin was there too.

Minghao was knelt over his father’s form, shuddering slightly.

“Hao,” you whispered as you approached, an awkward feeling settling in your stomach. Something was very wrong. Tentatively, you knelt down beside the prince, gasping when you saw the blood. Panicked, you looked down, now noticing the dark trail on the floorboards.

“What— what happened?” you stammered. Minghao hadn’t acknowledged you yet. He was doubled over, tears falling down onto his father’s chest.

“Don’t leave me.” His voice was so thick with emotion the words were barely audible.

You knew the emperor wouldn’t reply.

“Please, father,” Minghao whimpered.

You’d never seen him like this; torn apart like an old book. Afraid of making things worse, you sat by and waited. The war outside didn’t matter now. You allowed his sobs to turn to quiet slowly.

When they had, Minghao straightened his back and looked at you. His face was red and blotchy. The pain in his eyes made you want to wrap your heart around him.

“He got shot,” he said at last. His hand reached out for yours and you took it, surprised at the tightness of his fingers around you.

“I found him back in the celebration hall I— I didn’t know what to do. I just knew I couldn’t let Yientan have him so I tried to find a place to hide him but by the time I got here he was barely breathing and—” fresh tears burned in his eyes, “he just— I can’t do this without him I can’t—”

“Hao— ” you started just as a creak in the floorboards made you both jump.

Over a dozen people shuffled into the room, each person looking more perplexed than the next at the sight of Minghao and the emperor. You blinked in surprise at the appearances of the Zhong family, a bit battered and stunned-looking but otherwise fine. Last to enter the room was Tou Ma. Her face paint had smudged, there was blood at her temple and her robe was ripped at the sleeve.

“Stay back, girls,” she said with a voice just as stern as ever before coming over. Her face turned grim the moment she got on her knees and took in the sight. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared and her thin lips parted. She took a few moments to regain her calm. Gently, she flattened out a crinkle in her robe as she cleared her voice at last.

“My prince,” she spoke solemnly, “from the heart of Namin, I offer my deepest condolences.”

Minghao continued to stare down at his father’s chest.

“Tomorrow we mourn the end of the era— tonight—” she paused, her wrinkles tugging into a frown, “tonight lies in your hands.”

The words hung in the dusty storage room air, settling over the people within it, slowly, like bits of falling snow.

“My prince?” Tou Ma said and her voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.

Minghao hadn’t moved an inch. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking either.

Strands of messed up hair hung in front of his face as he looked down at the emperor. You knew Minghao understood what Tou Ma had implied. Now that the emperor was dead, Minghao was automatically in charge. It was time for him to fulfill his prophecy and become the legend he was destined to be. Except that Tou Ma hadn’t said it like that exactly. She’d left the decision up to him. Tonight lies in your hands. Somehow, you felt like the head servant understood the pressure that weighed on the prince. She’d left the course of action open so that, should he choose to do so, Minghao could hide away with the rest of the castle’s residents. Should he choose to do so, he could surrender to Yientan. It was up to Minghao to decide his fate, not some legend assigned at birth.

Finally, Minghao looked up at Tou Ma.

“My mother,” he said, “is she safe?”

“Of course, my prince,” Tou Ma replied at once, “she was my first priority. I sent her through the royal passage behind the west room tapestry before bringing others to safety. She must have reached the safe house by now.”

Minghao nodded. “Thank you.” He sat there, thinking for a few more seconds before he stood up.

“I’m going out there. Everyone else stay here.” His voice was monotone, matter-of-fact. “I have to speak to the emperor of Yientan and put a stop to this.”

No one spoke as he turned to leave the room. Even you were too shocked to speak. It was only after he’d left the room that you found the strength to move.

“Silly girl,” Tou Ma said, her voice sharp once more as she grabbed hold of your wrist, “this is the last time I tell you to stay away from him.”

You looked the head servant dead in the eye.

“Then this will be the last time I defy you,” you answered, breaking free from her grasp and running out of the room.

You caught up with Minghao halfway up the stairs. You tugged at his sleeve and called his name, softly, inquiringly. He looked back at you, looking apologetic.

“I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you,” he said quietly, “you’re already hurt.” His eyes went to your cheek, where the sting of the arrow still lingered.

You sighed. “And I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.” You took his hand. “Hao, please,” you went on, “whatever happens, let’s do it together.”

Slowly, a smile formed on the new emperor’s lips. It failed to erase the pain in his reddened eyes but rather coated them in a temporary haze. His fingers tightened around yours and he whispered, “okay.”

*

“Where are we going?” you asked as you tiptoed through the castle, slipping from shadow to shadow.

“I know where he is,” Minghao replied.

You knew he was talking about the emperor of Yientan. You had no idea what he looked like but you’d overheard plenty of conversations about him during your time in the castle. He was a fierce ruler and a strong man of combat.

“Wait, you’re not going to fight him, are you?”

“No,” he replied, “I’m going to talk to him.”

The throne room looked smaller than usual. A pillar had fallen, dust and debris littered the usually shiny hardwood and on the golden throne sat, not Xu Yilan, but a younger-looking man. He was broad-shouldered and his dark hair fell in a single braid down to his waist. His black and silver armor was still spotless aside from the couple droplets of red that had splashed onto his chest. You almost couldn’t believe he was an emperor and not a war general. Xu Yilan had surely never fought like this. Judging by the tenacity in his eyes, he was enjoying this. Upon noticing Minghao he raised himself from the throne, eyes narrowing.

“Emperor Wu,” Minghao spoke up as he walked to the center of the room.

You decided to stay in the shadows for now. It was better for the Yientan leader not to know a second person was in the room.

“My father, Xu Yilan, is dead by your men’s hands.”

You had no idea how Minghao was keeping his emotions at bay but it was clearly a good thing. The man on the platform drew back, his eyes going wide.

“You,” he said in a gravely voice, “you are Xu Minghao?” He spoke loud and clear but was unable to hide his uneasiness. It was in the way he stood, overly square, and in the stark way his eyes stared ahead.

“I am,” Minghao said, “and I want you to listen to me for a moment.”

Silence. This was good. 

“I do not want to fight you,” he went on, “I just want to talk. I want to restore the balance between Namin and Yientan.” He took a deep breath. “I want Yientan to give us back the highlands.”

A low yet booming laughter filled the empty throne room.

“You expect us to just give you back the highlands?” the emperor scoffed, “and what will Yientan receive in return?”

You watched Minghao as a silence trickled into the air. He was completely still, his mind probably racing like a warhorse.

“In return,” he said at last, his voice deep yet clear, “Yientan will be spared the dragon’s wrath.”

You could see the fear spring into the emperor’s eyes.

“You lie, young man,” he said, though it was obvious Minghao’s words had derailed him a bit. Slowly, the man unsheathed a long sword and pointed it at Minghao.

“There is no dragon,” he spat, starting to walk down the platform, “where is your dragon now, huh? Did it come when our people charged your gates? No, it did not.”

Minghao’s chest heaved but he stood his ground. You couldn’t understand how he stayed so calm. He had nothing to defend himself with.

“Did it come when your father was struck down by one of my men?” emperor Wu continued as he approached, “it did not.”

This was all wrong, you thought, panic taking over you.

“Up on the roof of this broken palace, a golden dragon stands, yes,” the emperor said, a wicked smile spreading onto his lips. He was getting too close.

“It is nothing but a symbol of wealth, a meaningless decoration!”

Minghao stood as a statue, defiant.

“It could not save your father, nor your people,” he grinned, “and it surely won’t save you.”

“Stop!” you screamed, breaking away from your hiding spot. Both men turned their heads in surprise, a moment you took to jump in between them, arms out, shielding Minghao from his attacker.

“Don’t hurt him, please!” you cried. You knew you were making foolish decisions but there wasn’t a single cell in your body capable of doing anything else in that moment.

Pain shot through your arm as general Wu grabbed hold of you.

“No!” Minghao yelled, immediately jumping for the general’s second arm in an attempt to tear the sword from his grasp. Your head spun as you were tugged around, the three of you in an awkward tangle until you heard a gasp that could only be Minghao’s. You watched him fall to the floor, clutching his side, where the fabric of his shirt started to color red.

You wanted to scream but before any sound had the chance to leave your lips, the whole room began to shake.

Emperor Wu backed towards the wall, dragging you with him and that’s when you heard it. An ear-piercing cry coming from somewhere up above. The ceiling cracked and gave away right where Minghao crouched. You cried out his name in a desperate attempt to save him when you realized the falling debris wasn’t crushing him. Instead, it turned to dust mid-fall, scattering over the floor like sand on a windy day.

Emperor Wu gave a startled shriek behind you. A massive creature burst through the broken ceiling with another deafening cry. It looked like a giant, glimmering snake with horns. Its fanged mouth was the size of two grown men and its golden scales reflected the devastation in the room. It curled itself around Minhao, who was still on hands and knees on the floor, obscuring him from view. “It— it’s— it can’t be!” the man behind you stuttered, shivering all over. You took the opportunity to yank yourself from his grasp.

The dragon let out a large huff and steam released from its dinner-plate-sized nostrils. You couldn’t help but feel a trickle of fear pulse through you as you approached the beast. But you had to trust.

The dragon’s body uncurled once more, revealing Minghao. He was standing; even more, he looked revitalized. A determent look had taken over his face. He stepped in front of the dragon and addressed the cowering emperor.

“As I said before,” he said, his voice strong and demanding now, “I don’t want to fight. I don’t want this war. Yientan and Namin can live in peace. Even better, we can make each other stronger.” He glanced at you and his eyes filled with warmth. “I know we are different but Namin will no longer fear those differences. It is by cooperating that we will learn and grow—”

The emperor scoffed. “And to achieve this peace of yours,” he grumbled, “I assume you want the highlands back?”

“They belong to Namin,” Minhao replied calmly.

“And what’s next?” emperor Wu went on, his pitch rising, “you’ll invade us with your big dragon protector and we’ll have to give up everything?!”

“No.” Minghao shook his head. “Namin doesn’t need any more. Just the highlands and harmony with Yientan. If you promise me these things, emperor Wu, this dragon will never be used for violence. It too can be a symbol of peace.”

The emperor of Yientan stood there, fighting a fight within himself. All you could do was wait. Minghao didn’t look scared anymore though. The dragon had taken his fear. The cold mask had vanished as well, leaving his eyes exactly the way you remembered them from years ago; kind, curious, inviting. Years of pressure had fallen off of his shoulders, allowing him to stand up straight and confident.

His gaze went to you for a moment and he reached out his hand.

Heart swelling with joy, you took it, feeling more than ever before, like you belonged.

Emperor Wu observed all of this with pain in his eyes. You still had no idea what the man was thinking but you felt safer now, so close to Minghao.

“Alright,” he said finally, starting to walk towards you, “you win, little emperor.” He shook his head in defeat. “You’ve still got a lot to learn about ruling and, mark my words, you will regret the things you’ve said today— all this talk about peace and harmony—” he stopped just a couple feet away from Minghao, “but at least for now, Yientan will bow to Namin.” He bent over into a ninety degree bow and Minghao let show just the tiniest smile. He was proud— and he should have been. You squeezed into his hand and felt him squeeze back when, all of a sudden, a lot of things happened.

Emperor Wu raised himself, drawing from a loop in his belt a tiny dagger and driving it into Minghao’s chest. At the same time, the dragon behind you let out a magnificent roar as it charged at Yientan’s emperor, knocking the breath right out of his lungs. All this time, you stood, frozen to the spot in complete and utter shock.

When you felt Minhao’s hand slip from yours, you cried out his name. You caught him as he staggered and the two of you landed with a soft thud on the floor. Panicked, your hands dove to his chest, looking for the stab wound as tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“Hey,” you heard someone say softly, vaguely but you didn’t have time now. You had to stop the bleeding.

Something took hold of your chin, lifting it. It was Minghao. He was smiling the sweetest smile and you didn’t understand.

“I’m okay,” he said, pulling aside his robes, revealing nothing but a light cut along his ribcage.

“Hao,” you sniffled as his thumb came to wipe away some of your tears.

“I’m okay,” he said again, nodding softly.

And so all the adrenaline fled your body. Without a second thought, you flung your arms around his neck and hugged him close. It was a hug such as you’d shared when you were children; one made of pure happiness. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You were still crying, sort of, but you were sure it was the good kind of crying.

A gentle hand landed on top of your head, patting it in a soothing manner. You took it all in, the feel of him, his scent, the way his heart beat against yours.

“Everything is gonna be alright now, right?” you mumbled into his chest.

You felt him sigh.

“I think so.”

*

The following days were some of the strangest of your entire life.

The emperor of Yientan wasn’t dead. The dragon had hit him pretty bad but it had ultimately left the decision up to Minghao. Minghao, who of course decided to have the foreign emperor nursed back to health by Namin’s finest doctors. He still believed that peace between the two lands was possible.

You and Minghao, along with all remaining castle staff, had temporarily moved into the castle gardens. Most of the garden staff huts had apparently been spared from the fight. It wasn’t spacious by any means, but it was enough for the time being.

Not that you didn’t have any other options.

News of the attack and especially the return of the dragon had spread like wildfire through the cities and towns of Namin. Wealthy traders and investors offered their own residences in honor of the new legendary emperor but Minghao had turned them all down. He said he wanted to help rebuild the castle.

“Besides, I don’t know if I’m ready to face them yet.” Minghao’s face was contemplative as you two sat overlooking the rose garden from a hilltop.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

He leaned back onto his hands. “I don’t know,” he said, “I’m not ready to be their legend, truly this time. How am I supposed to— after my father.” He shook his head. “I’m no better than him. He was just a man and so am I.” 

Up in the sky, the golden dragon trailed patterns in the afternoon clouds. It had fluttered around the gardens all day; a beacon of hope.

“I know I have a job to do but—” he said finally, “I still can’t help but feel like I’m losing something precious.”

You nodded, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Things will be more complicated,” you admitted. It was true. You didn’t want to sugarcoat that for him. However, you weren’t worried.

“But you won’t be doing any of it alone.”

You could feel him start to smile as his arm slid around your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Your majesty,” a tense voice said.

It was Tou Ma. You were surprised to find you were happy to see her.

“We have received word from your mother. She will be coming home in a few days. The Zhong family meanwhile have arrived home this morning. They are well.”

Minghao nodded, his face stony but a lot going on behind his eyes.

“Should I send word back?”

“No,” Minghao was quick to answer but then he caught himself, “I think I’ll write Zhong Mei and her parents a letter myself. They deserve that.” He was frowning to himself now. “And tell my mother I’m sorry— and can’t wait for her arrival.”

“I will,” Tou Ma said solemnly, her eyes trailing off. She was searching for words.

“What is it?” Minghao questioned.

Tou Ma pursed her lips.

“He is awake.”

*

You followed Minghao to one of the larger huts in the garden, where emperor Wu was being treated. The room was bare, save for a bed and a night stand upon which stood a bowl of water and a clean cloth. A middle-aged lady in simple blue robes stood by his bed. The moment she noticed Minghao, she fell into a deep bow.

“That’s alright,” Minghao said, taking her hands as she rose, “thank you for your amazing work.”

The woman went red in the face but smiled brightly back at him.

The emperor of Yientan still suffered a few bruises, one below his left eye. You couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy around him so you watched Minghao approach from a distance.

“How are you feeling?” he asked the man in the bed.

Emperor Wu let out a heavy sigh as his eyes landed on Minghao.

“I’ve been better,” he said.

There was a silence you weren’t sure of the meaning of. Minghao seemed to be waiting.

“I’ve sat here for a while now, you know,” he went on, “been awake since sometime last night— in and out of it most likely— but I’ve been thinking.”

The man in the bed looked nothing like he had during the battle. He’d been full of fire then. Now, he had a depleted look about him.

“Do you know what I was thinking?”

Minghao shook his head softly.

To your surprise, the emperor of Yientan let out a chuckle. Maybe he really had suffered brain damage after all.

“I was thinking, why am I in this comfortable bed?” he snickered lowly, “I thought I might have died. Thought it might be the afterlife. But then I was informed of your decision to let me live. To let me go.” His face went sad suddenly, brows furrowed. He looked almost silly.

“I realized I admire you, your majesty. You chose to spare the life of the man who invaded your land and took it for his own, the man responsible for your father’s death, the man that might have been responsible for your own death—” he let out another chuckle. “I thought you must be either mad or genius— I, um— I’m still not truly certain which one it is but I can say one thing for sure: you’ve got more bravery in that little body of yours than I’ve seen in any ruler of my lifetime. And I have no choice but to respect that.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your hands were anxiously clutched in front of your chest.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Minghao said, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

Emperor Wu raised himself in the bed, took the cloth from the nightstand and wiped his face with it. When his face was revealed once more, he was smiling.

“Alright,” he said, looking up at Minghao, “let’s get this over with. Let’s talk.”

*

This is how Namin was restored. The highlands were returned and multiple treaties were formed between Namin and Yientan, promising peace and collaboration for all time to come.

Minghao hugged his mother close a few nights later, and a ceremony was held for the death of Xu Yilan. It was a sombre meeting in a nearby temple, the only other attendees aside from direct family the thousands of fireflies that lit up the air.

Then, finally, it was time to go public with everything that had happened. The coming of the legend emperor had to be celebrated and the people of Namin were not going to let that opportunity go to waste. Banners were raised, fireworks set off, as a magnificent parade made its way through the capital.

Throughout all this, you found yourself completely overwhelmed, not only because so much was happening at once, but also because Minghao wanted you to be a part of it all.

“Are you alright?” Minghao whispered into your ear.

You hardly knew how to respond to that. You were sitting in a luxurious golden carriage, wearing the most beautiful silk you’d ever laid eyes on. Layers of pale pinks and greens, adorned with gold thread fell from your shoulders. Your hair had been elegantly put together by Tou Ma herself that morning, with flowers and ribbons she’d handpicked for you. If all that wasn’t enough to make your heart do cartwheels, Minghao, the new emperor of Namin sat beside you, holding your hand while he waved at the people cheering. And there were a lot of people around you. It seemed as if all of Namin had come out to watch the procession. You weren’t as confident as Minghao, darting your hand up occasionally to wave at the public, only to change your mind the next second and put it back down.

“I’m terrified,” you replied, “ecstatic and overjoyed and terrified.”

“That sounds about right,” he said, grinning, “but don’t worry, we’ll be there soon.”

Surely enough, the procession halted in the main square of the capital. A tall platform had been put up in the center of it. As you’d expected, your carriage opened its doors right beside it. It was time for Minghao to give his speech. With one last smile in your direction he left for the platform. You watched him breath in and out, visibly shaking the nerves out of his body before he began.

“People of Namin,” he spoke loud and clear, “in the last week, a lot of things have happened and rumors have run rampant. I believe you all deserve to know exactly what has happened at the castle and what this means for the future of Namin.”

You looked in complete awe and adoration, as Minghao explained the events of the past weeks and even before that; the protests, the arrival of the Zhong family and their plans, the attack, death of Xu Yilan and finally, the legend of the dragon.

“It is true,” Minghao said, “the dragon lives once more.”

Just then, a bright glimmer fell all over the square and the people squinted upwards to see the golden dragon fly overhead.

“It will protect Namin for as long as I live and hopefully longer.”

The crowd erupted in jubilant cheers. Minghao took this opportunity to look back at you. You were suddenly highly aware of the ridiculously wide grin that had been plastered on your face ever since he’d begun his speech. He returned it gladly and, to your surprise, beckoned you to join him onto the platform.

Your eyes went the size of daisies as you vigorously shook your head at him. He only smiled kindly at you and turned back around as the commotion had died down mostly.

“My dear people, it has been a glorious day!” he yelled  “but I have one more announcement to make.”

This turned the whole crowd silent.

“Throughout the challenges of the past week I have had to be strong. In order for the dragon to arise, I’ve had to be strong. I’m the true leader, I’m Namin’s hope, I am a legend come to life— I’ve been hearing these types of statements all around and I would like to say that, while your praise is appreciated, I fear I’m not entirely deserving—”

“There’s a reason I’ve been able to be strong. There’s a reason I’ve been able to keep my head on the right track, there’s a reason I feel like I can be a worthy leader to you all and it is a reason entirely outside of myself.”

He turned back around to face you. Your face went hot when you realized he was actually coming down to fetch you. He took your hand, gave you the most loving smile and pulled you up.

Everything looked simultaneously tiny and overwhelming from up on the platform. Luckily you had Minghao holding onto your hand or you for sure would’ve fainted.

“I can be the leader I am because of this woman,” he said, “she has been the one thing that’s grounded me in all of this and if it hadn’t been for her, I’m not sure I’d be standing here making this speech today.”

Your heart was pounding out of control and you felt lightheaded. You were grateful when Minghao’s arm slid around your waist and steadied you.

“On this special day, we celebrate the resilience and rebirth of Namin,” Minghao stated confidently, “but I would also like to use this day to profess my undying love for the girl standing beside me.”

A sea of murmurs welled up from the crowd. Minghao came to face you again and suddenly, he looked less like an emperor and more like the boy you’d always known.

“I’ve always loved you,” he said quietly, “it’s always been you.” His hand came to hold your face gently. “I know the life I lead from now on will be full of challenges and responsibilities, it will be a life in the spotlight, maybe—” he sighed, “maybe nothing like the life you’d imagined for yourself but—” he was really searching for words now, his eyes darting in all directions until they finally landed back on yours.

“If you’ll have me, I would love for you to share that life with me.”

It was as if a collection of fireworks set off inside of you, shooting from the top of your head all the way down to your toes, setting you aflame. It was an overload of feelings. You didn’t even notice the tear trickling down your cheek until Minghao wiped it away.

“So, will you?” he asked, looking like he might collapse from nerves as well now.

The smile burst free from its own accord as the reality of the situation finally sank in.

“Yes, of course!” you let out and your arms flung themselves around Minghao’s neck.

Now the people of Namin were really cheering, their noise like drums in your head as you embraced Minghao. Even when you broke apart the cheering didn’t stop; it only grew wilder as Minghao pressed his lips to yours. 

In all your life you’d never thought this would be yours. Even as a child you’d known that Minghao, your playmate wasn’t to be wanted. He was different, above others, untouchable, and for years you’d struggled to come to terms with that grim fact. And yet here he was, in front of you and all of Namin, telling you he loved you. It was the beginning of a new era for Namin and it seemed that its residents were ready for change. And you were more than certain Minghao was the right person to lead the people with justice and, above all, love.

♥

[blackcherrykiss]

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.8)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7] previous chapters

[CH.9] next chapter (now avaliable!)

You tiptoe yourself towards the room where detention was being held that lunch hour, not surprised to see a familiar face after Jaeyun's warning of Sunghoon or Heeseung being there. You clashed eyes with Sunghoon whose eyes flickered up and down at you like a light switch as you entered the room. Sunghoon's stone face would only vanish into the only other facial expression you've ever seen him give, a sinister smile.

"Have a seat... Y/N" Your gym teacher lowered her head, visibly more interested in the flyer she had in hand.

You took a slow gander at the other people in the room, a couple of recognizable lower classmen and duos of pranksters. Sunghoon stuck out like a sore thumb, remaining the centre of your attention. You willingly took up the vacant desk beside him at the very back where a few shadows lingered.

"Unexpected meeting." Sunghoon was subtle, speaking in a deep voice was just audible enough to be heard by you. You both didn't make eye contact as it would've made it obvious you were talking and God knows how many more detention sentences you'd be given for being caught chatting.

"Jaeyun told me you're here all the time, no surprises for me." You whispered while making yourself at home in your chair.

You blink in frustration as you realize if you had brought your physics textbook, you could've worked on the questions you hadn't done in class. You pull out some notes to study in the meantime, dreading the fact you were about to spend the next half hour wasting brain energy reviewing for a test you were getting quite confident with.

After using most of the detention time repeating your study terms, you peek over at Sunghoon who rested his head down on one of his arms that dangled off the front of his desk. You got the idea of passing notes to communicate with Sunghoon in the last 10 minutes of detention. Tearing off a medium-sized square of paper, you began to write in a sharp font:

hey, just wanted to ask if you're flirting with dahee or something?  rumour has it you already have a girlfriend... i won't tell anyone :-)

You fold the paper and carefully flick Sunghoon's shoulder, eyeing the teacher while you're at it out of caution. Sunghoon slowly lifted his face, squinting to adjust to the bright light before seeing the paper you held out for him. With a raised brow he grasped it between his thin fingertips, stretching it out of its crumpled form. You don't bother looking at his reaction and rather wait for him to write down a response in the empty spaces you left. Within a quick exchange, the folded paper was back in your possession with a couple of words written, his writing a lot smaller than you imagined.

since when did I have a girlfriend? and who says I'm flirting with dahee?

You obviously only pretended there was a rumour of Sunghoon having a girlfriend to avoid telling him the truth. From what you could recall, Sunghoon would "kill" Kyungeun if he found out what you saw. You weren't just going to throw Kyungeun under the bus and get her into trouble so here you were stuck thinking about your reply. Your pencil began to move once a response was in mind.

I saw it with my own eyes yesterday! something is up between you and dahee

Sunghoon took the paper right off your desk before you could fold it nicely as if he was reading as you wrote. This time he scribbled in loose and long lines as a way of communicating faster.

why does it matter? let me answer my own question, I know you saw me with Kyungeun

Your eyes went white, blinking in horror as you read the paper over and over. How could he have known you were there? You could've sworn it was too dim in the library that day.  It would also be practically impossible to identify anyone behind or even through the cracks from where Sunghoon was standing. The only answer would be Jaeyun then, right?

The teacher extended on knee down to push herself into a standing position "I'm going to the bathroom, there are only a few minutes left but I better see all of you still here and quiet when I get back."  The teacher left in a flash, probably doing her best to get back as quick as she could. But it didn't take more than 20 seconds before people broke the silence and started chatting it up with each other. You also took the absence of the teacher to speak.

You stood up in disbelief to interrogate Sunghoon, "Who told you I was there?" You looked around to make sure no one was watching while you moved in closer to Sunghoon.

"I could sense you there, behind the fiction bookshelves" He slumped back in his chair to observe your face in full light, "No one told me you were there."

You swallowed harshly at the correct observations of his, you believed he was lying just to scare you. "Cut the bullshit. So what is it about my friends that you NEED so bad? Sex?" You gasped in your head at your own retort.

"Sex?" He wheezed, hitting the table with an open palm. His loss of breath was an indication that he found your assumption pathetic. "I'm not that low Y/N," He pulled you in more than you had expected to increase the volume of his whisper, "Kyungeun will be of no use to me once I have Dahee... I'll let Kyungeun free soon, don't worry."

You hear footsteps against the waxed floors of the hallway and immediately sit down along with the rest of everyone in the room. The whole class shifted in a prim and proper manner as if no one moved an inch while the teacher was gone. You rummage through your bag to find the book you had taken out from the library to help sell the act.

"I'm surprised half of you didn't leave while I was gone... You are free to pack up now."  She nodded and left the class to probably catch her own lunchtime.

"Why will Kyungeun be of no use?" You get back on track with Sunghoon after the short commercial break.

"What's this book?" He ignored you, snatching the stack out of your hands without much thought.

"Don't ignore my question! And it's for one of my classes." You added.

He flipped to a random page like you had done when you first saw the book. He scanned the text and made all kinds of expressions, "Why the fuck do you have this?!" His jaw slightly lower than usual before an unexpected cast of excitement took over his face "This book you have, I'll have to confiscate it, pretty girl."

Immediately making you jumped on both feet to block any further travel, "Why? No? It's rightfully mine!" You scrapped the question and got more worried about the book.

He held the book as high as he could so you wouldn't even attempt to snatch it from him, "I'm starting to think you're fooling us more than we're fooling you. How much do you actually know about us?" He was clearly amused by you.

"Am I that clueless???" You bit down on your tongue, the word murderers coming to mind. But somehow that answer didn't seem right. "Fine keep that book and don't answer my question."  You muttered bitterly.

Sunghoon spun around in his slender form, "I'll answer all of your questions and give you this book back." You watched as he steadily gravitated toward the door, "Meet me at the front of the woods at dusk." And so he left the room, his mysterious intent making you uneasy.  The meetup was being held so late, in the dark, far from school grounds.

...

"I figured you had detention Y/N..." Hyesun tsked, "How was it?"

"It was alright, got some studying done... Funny, I saw Sunghoon there." You shivered just saying his name aloud.

"Sunghoon? Of course... He's sort of a snob to the teachers. Speaking of Sunghoon, Dahee told me this morning that she couldn't stop thinking about him." Hyesun bit deliciously down on her strawberry pastry, "But by chance... Do you by chance like him?"

"Why do you ask?" You answer not thinking at all.

"Dahee thinks you do, apparently by the way you look at him...? I mean, she really doesn't want to get too attached if that's the cas-"

"YES! I do like him!" You cut Hyesun off with the thought that by saying you liked him would get Dahee away from the dangerous prick.

Were you screwing up something up by saying that? Hopefully not.

"Oh, then you should tell her... I think the sooner the better because she was really wondering this morning whether or not to keep flirting." Hyesun suggested before her eyes grew large out of their sockets as she looked over your shoulder, "Hey Jungwon?"

You jumped out of the table, your mind in full freakout mode, "Jungwon??? Hey!?" You panicked as you were positive Jungwon heard literally everything that just came out of your mouth. "Hyesun I need to talk to Jungwon about a project if you'll excuse us." You were full of lies today and you were sure it would come to bite you back somehow.

Yanking Jungwon's wrist, you led him outside the dining hall and into the courtyard where there were actually people hanging around in the warm autumn noon. Jungwon shook your hand off of his coldly.

"Since when did you like Sunghoon?! He's fucking insane he will fucking ruin you!" Jungwon screamed with his voice that even began cracking up. He was yelling so loud, not giving a damn if the full basketball court heard him.

"Stop getting so mad?! I know he's a fucking bad guy! I don't actually like him calm down!" You tried raising your voice over his, trying to control the temper in your body.

"Then why in the hell did you tell your friend you do?! Why are you getting so involved with him dear God!" Jungwon breathed fire through his nose, resting the side of his fingers over his brows to avoid looking at you.

"Because I'm trying to protect her??? Would you stop acting like this? I don't understand why he's a bad person but it's clear he has some malicious intentions with my friends so just get off my fucking back would you? You don't even wanna explain to me either so just chill out!" You exploded with emotions right then and there but you had more fuel to the fire, "Are you just leading me on by caring about me this much? Are you jealous Jungwon? Do you like me? Answer me!"

In your deepest wishes, you wanted him to say yes but part of you was plain tired. You didn't know where all this talk of yours was coming from but somehow your feelings blended into the chaotic mixture of the moment.

He hesitated to answer which was enough to boil up some sort of pain and frustration in your heart, "I-I don't know!? I just really care for you Y/N!" Jungwon held his head as he lost his balance his face expressing he was not feeling well. He took a few steps back, his voice a lot softer as he began to breathe a bit heavier. "I think I'm gonna throw up." He groaned in pain as he held onto his head tighter.

In an instant, you snapped out of your anger and looked around for help while still checking on him, "Jungwon are you alright?!" You slid your bag off of yourself and put your hands near his sides in case he fainted, to which he was already in the process of doing. "Holy shit! Jungwon?!" His legs gave up on him completely, melting down into the pavement. Luckily he would not smash his skull if it weren't for the instinct of your arms to catch him.

You turned to the basketball court to see Jay had already approached the situation, a beat-up basketball in between his fist and torso. Jay knelt down with worry, "I knew this would happen to him..." He mumbled in frustration

[httphonsool]

the great spymaster

2. dancing shadows

synopsis; a series of drabbles in which you manage to conquer the great, brooding spymaster’s heart, this time; you’re both in a library.

warnings; mentions of assault/hinting towards assault, hallucination, nightmares, cutting, i think that’s it but let me know if there’s something i missed.

tag list; @grandpascurtains @samaras-weavings

notes; i don’t think i took too long to write this did i? well, anyways, the story progresses and you find out more about the reader’s life and personality, i’m not sure how many parts this will have, it’ll probably be a lot as these are quite short, but anyway yeah, enjoy!!

-

My, my, it’s been four days, or well, you’re guessing it’s been four days due to the meal pattern you’ve figured out, and not a word from the strange, beautiful interrogator. Perhaps if it wasn’t such an odd situation you would have taken a liking to the interrogator but after having stuck you in a cell with only darkness for a whole week, it’s hard to say you even want to talk to him. You’ve noticed shadows lingering in the darkness, highly resembling those who’ve wronged you in your past, one face nagging at your brain with clear persistence. This was a madhouse. You see hallucinations, reliving your worst memories, you dream of your worst days; though you could hardly call them dreams, it’s hard feeling much other than fear, so you’ve taken to pressing into your previously shackled wrists, scratching and cutting into the raw, bruised flesh with your nails just to feel pain. A madhouse.

How long does a consultation with his High Lord take? Surely it couldn’t have taken more than at least a day. Or perhaps this High Lord doesn’t exist and you’re dreaming, just dreaming. Or maybe this High Lord is cruel, not wanting to spare much time over you and slowly torture you until you died—

“I assure you, torturing you is not the reason my spymaster and I took so long. We had protocols to abide by.” You turn your head to see your interrogator and a man—it’s hard to see in the dark but the men in this realm seem to have very prominent eyes, this man’s is almost violet. Your interrogator’s hazel eyes seem to give much more mercy than those of his High Lord, “So you’ve broken our wards, I hear.” The High Lord continues, pointing his eyes down, pacing around your cell.

“I’ve heard this news too, except I didn’t even know these wards existed.” You say. The High Lord paces some more, searching for something; what he was searching for you had no clue but you waited in silence for as long as he was quiet.

“After looking into your mind I see no reason to keep you in this cell any further,” The High Lord pauses, offering a smile as you breathe a sigh of relief, “but you can’t go back, either.”

“Please,” You plead, “I beg you, take me out of here.” You hope he sees the purple smudges that have appeared from your lack of sleep; lack of being able to stay sane.

“Oh, we’re taking you out,” your interrogator speaks, for the first time that day, “I’ll be watching over you the entire time.”

“W-where- where are you taking me?” Your arms tremble, the deathly temperature nipping away at your skin.

“The House of Wind,” The High Lord replies, “where my spymaster, Azriel, will be watching over you.”

-

The House of Wind was…it was something for sure with its ten thousand steps, of course, the view from the house was quite picturesque but you didn’t have time to admire it while you feel like Rapunzel in her tower, though even Rapunzel wasn’t given the luxury of ten thousand steps down to a city.

Your room, however, was definitely a score with its rustic four-post bed, old-fashioned red curtains that drooped low to the white-marble ground, and the grand walk in wardrobe: it was rich, yet tasteful. You really felt like a princess. Though, I suppose you aren’t far from it with you locked up high in building with little to no contact with the real world.

Being some princess wasn’t even the worst of your problems, no, no, the worst of your problems was the Fae man with swirling shadows surrounding him who looked like a God and barely spoke to you since he flew you up straight into your doom.

Right now, you were sitting in the library, the great spymaster only a couple of metres away from you, glancing at you every few minutes, his shadows no longer visible, as if they had melted into their surroundings.

“Is there absolutely nowhere else I can go? I have to stay up here?” Those are the first words you’ve spoken to him since you both arrived.

“Not necessarily.” You wish you could reach over and rip his throat out for being so short-spoken.

“Can you explain?” You grumble, turning the page of your book.

“I could fly you to anywhere, really,” He pauses deciding whether or not he should continue, “The only policy is that I have to watch over you.” Is he free all the time? Surely this man had his own duties.

“Don’t you have other duties? Couldn’t someone else watch over me?” You ask, keeping your eyes on your book.

“I have other people taking care of the work. This was an order from the High Lord.”

“So I’m stuck with you? All the time? I can’t even breathe without you stalking over me?” You huff; out of all the people you could’ve been stuck with… it had to be some quiet, short-spoken, boring shadowsinger (which by the way, no, you do not know what that means but you heard him mention something about it on your way here, you’re guessing it has something to do with the shadows coming out of his body), who can’t even hold a conversation to save his life?

“If you want your space go to your room and get naked, I assure you I won’t be coming in to see you any time soon while you’re in those conditions.” You have to admit it hurts that someone so pretty and so beautiful has just insinuated that he thinks your body is ugly, but the great spymaster- who you don’t even know the name of- doesn’t need to know that.

You scoff, “You fae have some audacity. Take me to some other library I can read in, I want to see more of this city.”

-

So he did, and you screamed as he took off into the air without any warning, and you screamed some more when you landed and saw in a puddle how messy your hair had become; it’s safe to say he didn’t give a damn at all, if anything you think he looked quite satisfied.

You learned that the priestesses ran the library, only allowing people they approved into the library, and for whatever reason they saw fit, they approved you. Maybe it was because you could relate to their experiences somehow, maybe they could feel the trauma in your past, but you didn’t say anything; just thanked them and went about on your conquest to find the filthiest, most smutty books to read.

So here you sat, your eyes pretending to read your book whilst your ears listened into the conversation he was having with some priestess of the library. Her name was Gwyn apparently, and though it was none of your business, you were interested anyway. She’s gorgeous. That’s the only comment there is to make, and she seems quite pleasant too, sincere and honest; but of course, she’s a priestess.

And you don’t miss the way the shadowsinger’s shadows dance and prance around her, celebrating and indulging her presence. They don’t show up around you, which meant that the shadowsinger actually must be friends with her. You gasp with realisation; maybe he even feels for her.

At least he can actually feel something.

“How much longer were you going to listen into my conversation?” He asks, crouching down beside you.

“I wasn’t listening, just observing.” You state, turning the corner of your page. He doesn’t answer.

A few moments later, he opens his mouth, “What did you observe?”

“Just some things,” you tease, he stares at you expectantly, “those shadows were dancing around her,” you turn another page, “maybe…it’s because you have feelings for her.”

“Shut up.” No blushing, no smiles, just a boring monotone face. What a dickhead.

Well at least one thing was clear; neither of you liked each other very much.

[writing-in-april]

Shining Bright Above You

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Summary: Spencer finally gets to go out with his boyfriend after getting out of prison and gets to see the light despite the overwhelming darkness.

A/N: Hey guys! This is my twenty-first fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April. This ones one of my favorites I’ve ever written and is based on this request and is also inspired by some stuff @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff sent to me for inspiration. I know x male reader fics don’t do good in fandom (which is a crying shame) but there’s still a large portion of people it applies to that read fanfic so please share it around so it might reach them!! Inclusivity in fanfic is important and I’ve heard multiple people get very discouraged they don’t see more fics that represent them- so please help bring more inclusivity in fandom!!! My ask box is open for nice anons only- here- if I see a shred of homophobia I will curb stomp you (I will not have a debate about it in my inbox) BUT please don’t be afraid to point out if I made a mistake in terms of the gender of the reader (this is not an open invitation to critique the rest of the fic)Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia & the prison arc & subtle hints at a soulmate au (which is funny I wrote it like that because I don’t read soulmate fics lol)- otherwise its super fluffy 🥰

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

Time was just a construct created by humans to understand how we moved forward in the universe, and even though I was exaggerating it had felt like a million years since I had been out with Spencer. Prison had already made it hard to see him, with all the pat downs and checks only to still be separated by a plexiglass wall. On top of that, Spencer had only let me visit once, until he saw eyes leering at me with some uttering slurs underneath their breath.

It wasn’t until he was freed that I could see him again, and in the flesh as well. I remember our first hug after he had been released, both of us practically soaking our clothes with tears that didn’t seem to stop. For Spencer, it had even taken along time to convince him that I was real, and that I was safe- there would be no homophobic prisoners coming to attack us in the night.

Spencer didn’t like the night, one of his worst fears was the darkness and night was when the shadowy parts of his mind came out to play. Oftentimes I’d find him in other parts of the apartment at night, with all the lights on, the bed was no longer a place of comfort. One night I had pulled him to the couch, lights all flicked on and a nature documentary playing softly. When I had brought his head into my lap to stroke his fluffy locks that were still beautiful even though they were still damaged from the prison soap, he had fallen asleep a lot easier. Since then the couch has become our bed. Though I did not mind because he kicked and cried less in the night, and even when he did, it was easier to hold him.

The night was a scary place for Spencer, except when the stars shone bright. That’s why when I had remembered one of our favorite past dates, at the observatory, I immediately called in a favor. We had the place to ourselves tonight, sure it cost me more money than I’d ever spent before on a date. It had been ages, a million years it seemed like since we went out in public, so the price was worth it. It was all for Spencer, to make the night good for him again.

Though I definitely loved looking at the bright balls of gas up above I much preferred to rest my gaze on Spencer’s eyes. Spencer’s eyes often reminded me of the stars, not because of their color- but because of the slight twinkle that they got every time he was happy. The twinkle in my opinion rivaled the brightness of the stars with ease.

Normally I could listen to Spencer rambling on about facts all day, being completely entranced by his phrasing. But, his eyes had entranced me this time. I was no longer thinking about the black holes that he was rambling about, but how lucky I was. How lucky I was to see that twinkle in his eye and get to kiss him at the same time?

I could’ve been born at any point throughout space and time, to see any number of amazing things across the universe. But, I was put here standing next to Spencer. Just two specks of stardust ready to be in this world together. However insignificant life could seem in the grander scheme of things- however small we could both seem, I wouldn’t want to be next to any other speck of stardust nor be placed at any point in space and time.

“And no particles or even electromagnetic radiation such as light—can escape from it.” I caught the last part of what he said as he finished his mini rant about black holes. Thinking about light being swallowed up and being crushed into oblivion it made me think of Spencer again, it was a sad thought, though it was filled with hope.

I thought about all the darkness that had tried to consume Spencer throughout the years. Most recently prison had been the thing that tried to stomp the light out of him. It was nice to see that light that had dimmed sparkle a little brighter tonight. Even though we have been dating for a long time I felt myself filled with a small amount of happiness knowing that I was at least part of the reason the sparkle in his eye was bright tonight.

“You ok?” Spencer piped up, looking at me with concern.

“The stars are bright tonight.”

He looked a little confused at my seemingly somewhat random statement, he still looked back up at the stars. On the inside I wished he’d kept his bright glinting gaze upon me, then he confirmed my statement, “Yes, yes they are.”

“You’re still shining brighter.” Even after all this time I still had the capabilities to make Spencer blush. Every time he did so I was reminded of the stuttering boy I had met all those years ago. When he had first approached me in the library so long ago to ask me if I was finished with a book I had set down to the side, he was instantly just as endearing to me as he is now.

It had been such a different time then, it seemed almost like another lifetime. We had been through so much together, I often thought the universe might have some vendetta against us. Though logically the universe wouldn’t be so concerned with two small specks of stardust such as ourselves. Either way, whatever was truly out there in the unknown, there’s no place I’d rather be.

A piece of paper, folded carefully so the creases would be neat, was burning a hole through my slacks. It was a small gift in the grander scheme of things, a blip on anyone else’s radar. This held more meaning for us than just some novelty gift people buy.

His eyes were back on the stars, observing them with such intensity that I hadn’t even seen the astronomer Spencer had introduced me to last time we were here. Spence craved the light above him- who was I to deny him if I could give it to him?

It may have not been plucking the stars out of the sky for him to cuddle in his arms in a literal sense. I couldn’t buy all the stars in the sky, the website didn’t allow that. I could give him one though, one that was brighter than any others they had for sale.

“I-I have something for you.” I stuttered, which had Spencer looking at me with suspicion; he was the stutterer when nervous, not normally me.

Spencer’s eyes were on me now, not the stars, though he looked at me with the same reverence as he did when gazing up at the Milky Way. The same way I always did.

My hands were shaky when I pulled out the folded paper, carefully undoing the creases to present him the certificate of ownership for a star. Spencer steadied them with his fingers wrapping around my wrists. They were long and spindly, just made in a certain way that made me always want to kiss the tips of them as I did so often.

He then took the paper from my hands, even though I wanted to be greedy and take the warmth from his hands that the paper was stealing. I cleared my throat before telling him what the folded paper was, still nervous over a simple sheet of paper,“It’s our star.”

Somehow his eyes gleamed ever brighter because of how the tears that were now welling up in his eyes refracted the light even more. He wiped them a little, so he could scan the paper over to read the certificate that to most people meant nothing.

“It’s so we can have a little bit more light in our life.” I chewed on my bottom lip after I finished giving him my reasoning for the gift, nervous about his reaction. His hands were shaking now, as were mine, though for different reasons.

If my brain was thinking logically I’d realize he’d love anything I have to him, he’d probably even treasure a vial of sand. “You’re all the light I need” He then pulled me into his lips by grasping at my cheeks, the paper still in his hands brushing up against them accidentally. The only people here to see the light between us was a mingling curious janitor. It didn’t matter who was watching, I only needed one person to be here, Spencer. And, every time I was in his presence I always stopped to think, there’s no place I’d rather be. There’s no one else I’d rather be attached to, no one else I want to call me their boyfriend. He’s my home and my light just as much as I am his.

There’s an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to one another. I don’t know how much I put stock in the idea of soulmates, or the universe having some illogical vendetta against us, or the possibility of a being greater than humankind. I did know however, that if there was anyone in the world that I could possibly be soulmates with, it would be Spencer Reid. I’d spend the rest of my days comforting him from the darkness, happily showing him the specks of light in between that ultimately would defeat the swirling pools of black.

Ask Me Anything

—-

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[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 2

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 4k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE]

The due dates that Tobirama gave you are more reasonable and flexible than you thought. You try to find something to complain about so you can relay it to Madara later and earn a small smile from him, but no, there is no reason to complain about it. The only thing you want to complain about are his so-called rules. Tobirama is not about leisure or lightening up, though that is not a bother to you if you are going to be honest. Planning to mess with him a little is just an attempt to wipe off that serious face of his. You want to know him based on what you see from him, not from what other people have told you.

However, you also do not want to mess things up. You are determined to work as hard as he does for this project because it is special to the village and for the children that are going to be attending the Academy. 

Also because you know you’ll get paid for it. You have been running low on money these days ever since you bought your own place. 

 Now that you are older, you wish you had the proper education to be a shinobi. You have to learn most of your skills along the way and apart from your family who had basically banished you, and even now, you are still learning as there are a lot of things that you missed. 

 Now, the children that are going to grow up here have something better for the future. They have more choices and bigger chances to become good shinobis. 

You get settled in your bed, which is literally the only furniture your place has. It is your dining table, your workplace, and also your resting place. Your weapons are littered on the floor, and your swords are leaning against the wall in one corner of the room. The books and the scrolls given to you lay open or stacked near your bed where you can reach for it. Some clean laundry you have yet to get to sit on the foot of your bed, and the space you are currently lying on is the only space your bed can make for you at the moment. 

 Quaint, but it has a lot of potential. 

Your new home, which is situated just at the edge of the village and newly built, is a home for civilians and also other shinobis who are not part of a clan, or those who rather have a place for themselves. This is a sign that the village is growing, and more and more families are becoming involved with it. 

You force yourself to go through the many materials that you need to read and study up on for the rest of the night until midnight, and you begin to write your suggestions after going through the material once again. You are good at absorbing information, but at the same time, you have trouble keeping still for a very long time. Sometimes you have the unfortunate ability to memorize the wrong things because your mind zeroes into whatever your brain wants to obsess over. 

 However, you have made it this far. You can adjust. 

You hope. 

//

You are pretty sure that Tobirama is sending you around the village in a goose chase just so that he can work on the curriculum himself. It’s obvious he did not want you near him with all those rules about preserving his boundaries. The said goose chase sounds reasonable enough–talk to the members of the clans, the ones who are the keeper of their knowledge and history and write them down. He did not even look you in the face when he sent you away, he just gave you a list of what to ask the clans residing in Konoha and a blank notebook and a scroll for you to record all of the information in. 

 This whole ordeal occupied you for the whole day and it also happens to bleed through the next day, in which you are convinced Tobirama has completed at least half the work. 

The thought does not make you happy. You want to do something, damn it. You feel like your life depends on it. 

Another day passes, and this time, Tobirama has you looking for artists, merchants, inventors and other skilled people in Konoha and recording their name and the location to find them. This part you understand well because you know that Hashirama wants to expand on other skills, but it feels so tedious and it makes the day longer. Not to mention, you do not really know anyone since you have been busy polishing your skills with Madara. Now that you think about it, you spend an awful lot of time with the man, ever since you came here. 

 Before you know it, you are breaking into a run towards the Hokage mansion. 

 Tobirama cannot be left to his own devices. You will not let him take this from you. 

You find the white-haired man seated on his usual spot, hand poised elegantly over a sheet of paper and eyes moving along the lines of a book he is reading. 

“Finished already?” Tobirama says in a very flat tone. 

 “Yeah, of course, I already know the people to put down.” Okay, that was a lie, and you know Tobirama had caught that because he glances at you briefly with narrowed eyes. 

You walk up to him and you lay out the information you gathered today. 

“Where’s your family from?” Tobirama straight up asks you without any preamble. The expression on his face does not change though you can feel that he is bothered by you. 

 You are taken aback by a beat, but you have no problem answering it. You have memorized the lines that you have to say that it begins to feel true. “They are a little far north from here, but they’re just traders, merchants, skillsmen.” 

 “Of what?” 

 “With the right amount of money, anything.” You say in an even, but casual tone. “They don’t like shinobi, so I left to make a living of my own.”

You can tell Tobirama did not like your answer. He puts his pen down and you feel him scrutinizing you. 

 "You have any friends?" He immediately follows up. 

 However, you have long mastered the skills of deflecting and only letting people know certain things about you. They always see what they want to see in you, never bothering to put two and two together that you are just painting a pretty picture for them to look at. 

 "Too many," you reply vaguely. 

 Tobirama sighs, and his eyes narrow. 

“I cannot trust you if you continue to evade me. This is integral to this village and its future, and I cannot have, no, I cannot afford to waste time or make mistakes,” Tobirama says and he meets your eyes. 

“I can promise you, I am ready to work just as much as you so let's not get personal,” you lean back and cross your arms. “And after this, I will get out of your hair forever. You wouldn’t even have to hear from me.” 

 Tobirama rolls his eyes, but you can tell he is satisfied with your answer. “Oh please, with a village this small, and me, holding an important position in the said village, you cannot guarantee that.” 

 You smirk and you pull out the chair across from him. “Touché, Lord Tobirama,” you emphasize the lord with a mocking tone. 

Tobirama grits his jaw visibly and he grabs his pen almost angrily. You are starting to think that maybe this is what Tobirama generally looks like. 

 “Get to work.” 

 “What is it this time? List the several types of drinks the people in this village make? Investigate the best type of fabric to wear for each season?” You prompt, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your lips. He just let you get away with calling him lord. 

 Adding a title to someone’s name is supposed to be a sign of respect, but the way you say it makes it sound derogatory. Like you’re cursing him. 

Tobirama looks about ready to yell, and part of you wants him to take the bait. You lean closer to gauge his reactions and you watch him immediately school his expression. It is like watching a magic show, one moment something is there, the next, it disappears. 

“Well, if you wanted me to make up more tasks for you to do, you should have just asked,” Tobirama deadpans. 

You watch him, intrigued. “Wow. Are you trying to be funny, or are you trying to insult me?” 

 “Please stop talking when I am working,” Tobirama does not sound like he is pleading. He hands you a stack of books to go through. “I want you to compile a list of necessary skills that you deem important, and I will do the same. We can discuss and vet on which skills are required to learn for each grade level right after.” 

You let out a breezy laugh, and you note how Tobirama seems to twitch at the sound. “Right, right, fine.” You pause. “Have you looked at my notes?”

“Of course I have,” Tobirama huffs and he shoots you a distasteful glare, and to you, it looks like he’s tired of talking. “I will make my own notes on where you’re lacking and then you revise it.” 

 “What do we need those for?” You ask, genuinely curious. “What else are we in charge of making?” 

“The reason I had you seek out artists, writers, bookmakers, and the like, is because we will commission them to make textbooks,” Tobirama explains. “We just need to get the information together. Meanwhile, I would also like to fill this library and another public library with other kinds of books.” 

You tap your chin. “Your brother tells me you like to invent things and all that. Are you going to include your research and your inventions in the library?” 

 Tobirama sighs, visibly withering at the statement that his brother talks behind his back, but he revives himself enough to get back to his work. “Depends on what my brother approves of.” 

You let out an involuntary chuckle. Here are the two most powerful known shinobis in the world right now, and they argue over mundane things. 

 Tobirama raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head. 

He takes that as a sign to keep on working, so you decide to keep to yourself. 

 Surprisingly, you are starting to enjoy this. It’s not as bad as you imagined. 

//

Perhaps you spoke too soon, because here you are at the crack of dawn–no not even the crack of dawn because the surroundings are still dark blue. You yawn as you arrive, and find Tobirama waiting in the middle of the training ground in a different outfit you have not seen him in. He seems to only have one color palette; he wears a navy wrap-around jacket that has a collar in a lighter shade of blue. The sleeves are short, showing off his muscles, and all of this is tied with a light yellow-green belt around his waist. A sword is secured to his belt, and it hangs on his side ready to be drawn. A happuri guards his forehead and the sides of his face, and for some reason, this makes him look more authoritarian and older. A mesh armor peeks through the space between his collars and even in your sleepiness, you note a defined torso that you keep to yourself. 

You do not even see an ounce of sleepiness in him and you huff.  

 Tobirama merely glances at you, but every time he looks at you, it feels like he is already exasperated. 

 “Is it just us?” You try not to sound too whiny. “Also I ate breakfast, I’m not falling for whatever it is you have in mind.” 

 “And what do you think is on my mind?” 

 “I don’t know? A test of survival, starving us for days in the forest with only the surroundings as our resource?” You rest a hand on your two swords–an uchigatana and a wakizashi, both the same in appearance and made from the same metal. 

“I said not to eat too much breakfast, I did not discourage you from it.” Tobirama lets out a sarcastic sigh–something he can really pull off well. “I am not that cruel.” 

 You hear an excited gasp behind you and you turn to find Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzo walking towards the two of you. 

“Tobirama-sensei!” Hiruzen calls enthusiastically, at the crack of dawn. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought my friend again!” 

You glance at Tobirama and you see his face visibly soften at the sight of his student. 

“And I didn’t know Y/N-sensei’s joining us!” Hiruzen bounds up to you and you reach up to ruffle his hair. He turns to you and points at Tobirama. “He’s a really cool sensei! Really cool!” 

Tobirama suddenly looks constipated and you laugh out loud. 

 “We’ll see, kiddo,” you tell him. “We’ll see.” 

Two more kids come, and the girl, Utatane Koharu, somehow looks pissed, which you can suddenly relate to. The boy beside her, Mitokado Homura, looks more calm and composed as he adjusts his glasses on his face. 

Tobirama nods, and then he breaks off into a light jog. Obediently, the kids follow after him and you grudgingly follow behind them. They must be used to this. 

 After a few rounds, the kids start to stretch and you do the same as well, and everything has been pretty calm. You watch as the kids do sets of push-ups, sit-ups, calisthenics and you are impressed at their stamina. They’re barely twelve, but then again, if you are training under Senju Tobirama, you can tell that you will be pushed to your limit. 

You feel a pang of envy from these kids for a moment, but you push it away. There is no reason to look back into the past and feel bitter about how things worked out. 

“So what’s next, sensei?” Hiruzen inquires. You can see how much these kids admire the man. 

 “Sparring,” Tobirama replies. “Since Danzo’s here, you guys are evenly matched. Last man standing gets to fight me.” 

 “What about Y/N-sensei?” Danzo interjects. 

 “Yeah, what about me?” You smirk, and you lighten your voice so that it sounds more childish. 

You can feel Koharu rolling her eyes. 

You narrow your eyes at him and let out a small stream of breath through your mouth. “I see.” 

 Tobirama slightly raises his chin haughtily. It suits him. He does not need to speak to dominate the atmosphere. He shrugs, and it sparks something in you. 

 “I’ll still try my best,” you smirk, but underneath your facade, you are starting to get annoyed. Which is new, because you are generally a patient person. 

Tobirama takes Hiruzen and Koharu while you take the other two to coach during their matches. You stand in between Danzo and Homura, watching their small faces study each other. 

“Don’t kill each other,” you advise, and you start their match. 

 The two go at each other, with Danzo throwing the first punch. You back off a little to make sure that you can see their stances. 

 Homura whirls around and his foot juts out, with his heel aiming towards Danzo’s head. Danzo ducks down, and kicks at Homura’s stomach the moment he regains his posture from the kick. 

Homura staggers back, and now he is on the defensive, blocking Danzo’s hits and kicks, barely dodging them as he keeps backing away. You notice the hits and misses from each boy.

 “Homura, don’t back away!” You yell out. “Get closer to him!” 

Homura does as you say, and Danzo is unable to land a hit on him, limiting his movements unless–

 Danzo jumps back to get away, and kicks Homura on the chest. 

 “Nice!” You cheer. 

 “Sensei, whose side are you on?” Homura complains and his hand comes up to rub his chest. 

You laugh. “Neither!” You glance at both of their faces. “Okay, you two, come here.” 

 Danzo and Homura face each other again. 

 “Save your movements, don’t be so generous with them,” you tell them. “Don’t punch just to punch. Again!” 

The two boys come at each other and you stand back to watch them again. This time, you do not offer any more suggestions. You glance to where Tobirama is at, and he is squatting on the ground, his eyes trained on the students’ footwork. 

 You hear him call out that Hiruzen’s feet are too far apart. 

You snap back to the two boys just in time to watch Homura flip Danzo on his back. 

You walk over and you peer at Danzo. “You okay?” 

 “Yes,” the boy wheezes out. 

“Alright, you’re done,” you chuckle and you look at Homura. “You win, then. Good job. Help him up.” 

You glance at the other group, and you see Koharu sock Hiruzen straight to his face and Tobirama jump up to his feet. Hiruzen gets to his feet, and you see a trickle of blood coming out of his nose. 

When Hiruzen gets closer, you ruffle his hair affectionately and you laugh as he grimaces. 

 “Not funny!” He whines nasally. 

 “Keep your hands up next time!” You taunt even though he may already know this. 

Tobirama puts a hand on his shoulder and steers him towards a rock so that he can sit. “Sit up and lean forward,” he tells his student. 

 The rest of the kids walk towards him to watch and poke fun at Hiruzen. 

 You stay back and cross your arms to watch them. You know that there is no place for you to be there. 

 Once Tobirama is finished attending to his student, he turns to you. “Koharu, you’re the referee.” 

You size him up, your eyes travelling from his face and down to his waist. What was one of his rules again? 

 Anticipation builds in your core, and your hand rests on the scabbard of your sword, your thumb playing at the hilt. 

“Are we including tricks today?” You inquire. 

 “If you want,” Tobirama curtly replies. 

Koharu starts the fight, and Tobirama wastes no time coming at you. 

 His first hit is heavy, and you block it with both of your forearms and brace yourself by stepping back one leg. You are quick to grab his wrist as you twist your arm and you step forward, meaning to put your leg behind his, but he breaks away from you and disturbs the momentum that you were going to use against him. 

 You are quick to back away because he comes at you without stopping. 

 He is fast, and he is heavy with his hands. You notice his open hands, ready for grappling. His stance is lower, and you know that it will be hard to knock him off balance, and the effects of kicking at his head will go to his advantage. 

You need an opening. 

 You launch yourself at him, and as he prepares himself to grab you, you drop to your knees and slide in between his legs, hitting his knee as you pass him by. He turns to your direction, and you quickly use his bent knee to step and kick towards his head. He blocks you and you see him almost grab at your ankle.

 You do not give him a chance to gather himself, and you swing again at him, this time using his shoulder to propel yourself around him and using his weight and yours, you are able to lock his head with your legs. Just as you are about to go for another twist to bring him to the ground, Tobirama counters by catching you and launching you off of him. 

 “You fight like an assassin,” Tobirama says as you roll to the ground and to your feet. 

“Are you impressed?” You grin at him, half jokingly. 

 Tobirama does not answer you, but it looks like he is about to say something worse as he charges at you. 

You step closer to him so that he does not follow through his movement, and you grab the hilt of his sword and then you strike your palm at his chest to send him back. You whirl around to brandish his sword in the air. 

 What was one of his rules? You suddenly remember.

  Do not touch my things, unless I give them to you. 

For a moment, everyone freezes. 

You study the blade in your hand. 

 “This is a very nice sword,” you muse, and you strike at the air and flip it, testing the weight. You run a finger on the blunt edge of his sword. “Well-balanced and thin, but very sharp. Excellent for accurate and fast hits...and conducting lightning.”

Tobirama’s face grows stormy. His fists tighten. 

 You twist blade with a slight twist of your wrist, and you hand it with the hilt towards him. “Sorry. I was curious.” 

Tobirama takes his sword and quickly sheathes it. You note a minuscule change in his expression, but it quickly passes and you are disappointed for not being quick enough to note it. 

“So, is this a tie?” Koharu asks, uncertain. 

“Yes,” Tobirama grits through his teeth. 

You watch Tobirama’s tense shoulders and decide to leave him alone. You probably went too far today. 

“Well, that was fun, but I have to go,” you say, even though the rest of your day is pretty much free. "I have some friends to meet." 

 Tobirama suspects that you certainly do not have any friends to meet, but he does not say anything more. He’s probably eager to make you go. There is nothing he would want more. 

“Aw!” Hiruzen cries out. His nose bleed has stopped. “Thanks for coming by, sensei!” 

You wink at the kids, and you make your exit, your hand still remembering the feel of Tobirama’s sword. It is oddly familiar, and you wonder if the craftsmanship is similar to your own blade. 

You can feel Tobirama’s stare behind you and it burns the back of your neck as if he is shooting laser beams at you, and just when you glance back to regard it, he is turning away and conversing with his students about hand seals. 

Though it was just a joke and a way to catch him by surprise, you can’t help but feel that you just stomped over the thin olive branch that he was handing out to you. 

You note to yourself to make it up to him tomorrow. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER THREE >>>]

[may-b-a-u-shewritestoo]

Chapter 2 | | Lamplights and Lonesome Bridge

warnings; mention of assault (being bullied)

word count; 3k

Tapping the end of her pen on her bottom lip, Zuli took a moment to close her eyes and breathe in the fresh air. She sat cross-legged upon her burnt orange blanket on a grassy square outside the Astronomy and Astrophysics building, writing pages and more pages for her thesis.

The transference of energy in the universe and its inability to be created.

So far she’d handwritten sixteen pages, the words just flowing from her mind but now she’d hit a wall. Slowly laying down onto her back, Zuli looked up at the sky. How could it hold so much space? Matter, particles, chemicals, stars, meteors, planets. And yet all she could see was clouds; aerosols consisting of liquid particles and crystals. The sky is just plain azure; like a door hiding so much beyond it. A crisp orange and brown leaf swivelled down from a nearby branch, landing only centimetres from her head.

She was truly fascinated by everything the world and the galaxies had to offer, intrigued by discovery; obsessed with learning. Letting out a deep exhale and closing her eyes, she almost began to drift off; her brain realising it needed a few minutes to reboot and recover. But a ruckus of sarcastic laughter and shouting stirred her from her relaxation.

Sitting up and shielding her eyes from the glowing sun, Zuli looked around to see where the noise was coming from. Sight finally following Sound, her stomach dropped as she noticed what was happening.

All too familiar she recognised five grown seniors underneath the arches by the Mathematics classrooms surrounding somebody, whoever it was being thrown around like a rag doll. Passed between each student, they were being shoved, hit, laughed at and verbally abused. While she knew she could be quite assertive and intimidating, that really only applied to people her age or younger. Seniors were different.

Continuing to watch at the same time as keeping an eye out to see if any staff were walking past.

“Ha ha, won’t be able to read your sappy love letters without these huh?” One older guy shouted, holding up a pair of clear framed glasses. Oh no. Her heart sank. Something began tingling in her stomach, flowing through to her feet and her arms and hands; she grew angry, scared, overwhelmed.

Collecting her textbooks and notepad, Zuli stood up and marched straight over to the group of boys. Adrenaline and dopamine worked evilly beside each other, triggering Zuli’s instincts of fight or flight; both of them somehow coming into play.

“If you don’t leave him the heck alone, I’ll report you to the dean of the CARE team. I know you. You,” Zuli addressed two of the group, “are from Chemistry. You others are from Mathematics. It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. Back off.” She spoke with such a seething tone to her voice, regardless of her being a small 15 year old kid; the boys listened, gathering their things and jogging off in a different direction.

“Spencer?” Zuli’s tone changed immediately, as she whispered to the boy curled up on the floor clutching his bag. His glasses were thrown just a bit away from him so Zuli picked them up, wiped the lenses with the hem of her sweater and handed them back to Spencer. He snatched them, scrambling to get himself together and stood up.

“It’s a silly question, but are you alri-“ Zuli couldn’t even finish the sentence before Spencer ran off, the back of him becoming a small shape as he got further and further away.

Shrugging her own backpack on her shoulders properly and adjusting her own glasses on the bridge of her nose, she tried to tell her brain not to take it personally. She probably wouldn’t want to talk to anybody after being exploited like that in public.

As she took a step forward to follow him, her foot nudged against something thick on the floor. A book covered in tight lavender coloured woven cloth lay on the floor, as if discarded like trash. Picking it up to observe, she noticed it had S.R embroidered down the spine. Holding it to her chest, she looked up to see if Spencer was still visible.

Watching as he became a little dot in the distance, she watched as he stopped underneath a junction of trees. Go left. Go left Spencer. He looked to his right before running off to the left and Zuli sighed with solace.

*********************************************************

The sunshine and clear sky was quickly a thing of the past as the weather turned into what should be expected of the fall; darkness creeping in early, and light raindrops hitting the ground. And as Zuli creaked open the recognisable doors to the library, it was the rain against the windows that made the soft sound of sniffling even more melancholic.

Following the soft sniffles to where she hoped in foresight Spencer would be, she sighed at the confirmation. Curled up in one of the big leather armchairs in what they’d both christened as ‘their’ corner of the room, Spencer had his knees tucked into his chest and his head tucked into his knees.

Arms wrapped tightly around his legs, he squeezed himself tighter at the sound of soft footsteps creeping toward him. He wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to speak to a dean or a librarian or another student.

But as he peeked underneath his elbow and saw Zuli’s maroon Doc Martens standing by the chair, he lifted his whole head to see her smiling down at him.

“Hey you.” She spoke, for the first time, truly gently.

“Hi.” Spencer sniffed hard, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes with his sweater sleeve and trying to sit up properly.

“You don’t have to get up for me Spencer, I’ll sit over there,” Even though her instinct was telling her to give him a huge hug, she knew he wouldn’t want it, “I think this is yours though.”

Holding out the mysterious book, Spencer’s eyes widened and he let out a breathy chuckle of disbelief.

“I thought they took it,” You shook your head as he took it timidly from your hands, “It was a birthday gift.”

“Wait. Did I miss your birthday?” Zuli asked, eyes widening and mouth open in surprise. Had she been so caught up in her thesis she didn’t notice her own friend’s birthday? As her brain attempted to figure out his birthday, he spoke.

“It’s today.”

“What? Why didn't you say anything?” Zuli supposed also, how hadn’t she noticed from the years before? She would’ve got him gifts, made him some cupcakes, anything.

Spencer shifted in his seat a little, fingernails stretching at a loose bit of cotton on his pants. He was evidently uncomfortable, for reasons that Zuli didn’t know and didn’t want to press on. Looking over Spencer’s shoulder at something happening outside in the hall, Zuli let out a little giggle.

Joining her in looking, Spencer too giggled at the sight of some students carrying a range of pumpkins and running down the hall with them.

A tradition they’d both learned takes place every Halloween at Caltech; students dropping pumpkins from the 9 floors up, watching them smash into tiny pieces at the bottom. It was one of the first things that Zuli and Spencer had done together besides study, laughing at the atmosphere of excitement and madness as the pumpkins shattered on the ground.

Zuli had picked miniscule bits of pumpkin out of Spencer’s hair for hours after.

“Shall we go watch?” She asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and holding onto her bag straps, “It might make you feel a little better.”

Spencer smiled at the doorway before turning to look at Zuli, overwhelmed by her kind soft voice; also wanting both to feel better and see the tradition.

“Let’s go.” Spencer stood up, brushing down his pants and running his hands over his face, removing evidence of his upset minutes ago.

As they both walked towards the doors, Zuli nudged Spencer’s shoulder with her own; getting a little chuckle out of him. Reaching down to turn the doorknob, Zuli leant her full body weight on the door to push it open.

But it wouldn’t. Jiggling the door handle over and over, the realisation creeped in that it wasn’t going to budge. Turning to Spencer, she let out a splutter of anxious giggles, his eyes wide however returning the same laughs.

“Well, looks like we’ve been locked in.” Spencer said, attempting to look through the glass and down the hall in case anyone was still walking around. He knew that everybody would be outside watching the pumpkins, but surely they would’ve seen them both in there.

Looking over to the corner they were sat in, he realised that the chairs were tucked in a corner behind some bookshelves, out of sight from the entrance door. Brilliant.

“Let’s just use the desk phone and call the caretaker or somebody?” Zuli suggested, pulling out her planner from her backpack and heading over to the phone sitting on top of the librarians desk. She’d taken all the emergency numbers of staff and authorities down in case anything ever happened. Preparedness was a relatively strong suit for her.

Spencer paced around the front of the desk as Zuli tried different numbers, stopping only when she began talking to somebody. It wasn’t that he was worried about anything, he adored the library; however he was exhausted and wanted to go to bed. Spending his birthday trapped in a library almost sounded fun, and it was only counting on the fact that Zuli would keep him entertained and busy.

“Okay, that’s fine. No it’s not that bad actually. See you soon. Thank you sir. Bye.” Zuli sighed as she put the phone down, hopping down from where she was sitting on the desk, “They’re sending a caretaker out to come and unlock the doors, but they won’t be for another two to three hours because of the rain.”

“I suppose that’s significantly better than staying here until 7 tomorrow morning.”

“The lady asked if it was cold in here, because the heating turns off at six-ish, buuuuut-“ Zuli unzipped her backpack and pulled out the blanket she was sitting on earlier, “I came prepared. Oh my god! I have an idea!”

Spencer just smiled and pulled his bag strap back over his head, settling it down on a nearby chair as he watched his hyperactive friend begin to push one of the leather chairs forward. He had no idea what she was doing, but whatever it would be he was going to just leave her to it.

*********************************************************“Is your neck hurting too?”

“Yeah. I completely misjudged the size of the blanket, and the distance between the chairs.”

They were both crouched underneath Zuli’s blanket that she had draped over the backs of two chairs; attempting to make a small fort in which they could hide from the cold threatening to creep in. But the blanket was only a small kind of throw, the chairs were absolutely huge and she and Spencer were squeezed so close together they might as well have been fused.

“I’ve got shoulder cramp, how is that even possible?” Zuli chuckled, rolling both shoulders back and wincing. The sudden movement tugged on a part of the blanket dipped behind them, and it soon fell to cover them entirely.

“If a muscle is overused or held in an awkward position over a long period of time, it can spasm. While only temporary, it seems like yours would be in the trapezius muscle, so before it entirely locks up I’d recommend a few stretches.” Spencer spoke, voice muffled by the blanket covering his head.

Bursting out into laughter, Zuli pushed the blanket back off of their heads, letting it sit around their shoulders. Rolling her head around in semi-circles, she sighed as the pain began to drift away. She knew it wasn’t just the way she was sitting, her posture had grown awful. Constantly hunched over books, or telescopes, she barely had time to stand or sit straight.

“Spencer…” Zuli mumbled, her voice coming out in the same way a person would sneak down the hall to the fridge at midnight.

“Mm?”

“May I ask what was so important about your book? Is it a first edition?”

Spencer smiled sadly as he reached for it, the spine poking out of his bag. If only he just told her everything with his mom; she wouldn’t have to ask these things and he wouldn’t have to answer them. He knew she would be kind and considerate - that’s just her in general - but he felt like it was too much to offload to somebody else. He didn’t want a pity party, he didn’t need one. But at the same time, if there was somebody to understand a tiny part of his struggle, it could make it easier. He wasn’t sure what was harder. So he calculated the simplest, vaguest answer possible, so as not to attract any further questions.

“It was a gift from somebody special. My favourite poems, mostly romantic, sonnets etcetera. Those seniors thought it was funny so used their own insecurities to lash out.”

There was a sadness behind his words, Zuli knew he wasn’t saying everything but trusted him enough to know if he wanted to share, he could. Deflecting slightly, her brain held on to the words ‘somebody special’ and ‘romantic’. No, it wouldn’t be something like that, he’d tell her. Surely?

“I feel like I can hear your thoughts, Zuli.” Spencer snapped her out of her thinking, eyebrows furrowed with intrigue, “It’s not what you think at all.”

“No, oh my god, it’s fine, I was just thinking that's all. I want you to feel like you can talk to me if you need to, but also you don’t have to, I just can see that you’re upset by something and I’m here if you-“

“It’s from my mom. She’s um…she’s not well. But she remembered my birthday and sent it to me. I read hundreds of books, but this one means the world to me.”

Zuli watched him with intense eyes. She felt full of adoration, sadness, love and contentment for Spencer. She could see he was hurting, but the lavender book gripped tightly in his fingers clearly brought him fondness. Spencer looked up at Zuli to see why he got no response, to find her smiling with enamour. Two lamplights on the table next to them cast a tuscan glow over the two of them, and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly warm.

“Do you know what?” Zuli sat up quickly, keeping the mood from dipping down and switching it to popping up, “I have something that makes me feel like that.”

Reaching into her own knapsack, she pulled out a medium sized leather book and handed it over to Spencer.

“You can look inside if you want.”

Spencer ran his fingers over the carved outline of a tree on the cover, the flat grain of the leather smooth and cool underneath his fingertips. It was beautifully made, and he could tell from the feel of the leather bindings and the smoothness of the handmade paper. He laid it down in between them both, gesturing for Zuli to open it herself.

She excitedly unravelled the leather strips wound round the outside and opened it up to her cover page. Written in magnificent calligraphy the words;

My Dream Adventures

lazuli aged 6

“It was a gift from my mom too. I’ve written a lot of hopes and dreams here, some of which I’ve achieved and some I’m yet to. She used to say to me that ‘adventure is out there.’” Zuli articulated, flipping the first few pages and pointing at different coloured writings.

“Own a lemonade stand and make fifty dollars.”

“Achieved,” Zuli spoke proudly, “age eleven. Made ninety dollars and bought this new backpack.”

Spencer laughed with true merriment before going back to some of the other scribbles.

“Keep bees and sell my own honey.”

“Yet to.”

“Quite the businesswoman it seems, Zuli.” Spencer giggled at her straightforwardness. Zuli’s smile was wider than the Amazon river, her passion and true self coming out as she expressed herself through her past stories.

“This one looks cool, I like your artwork. To fly a house to Lonesome Bridge and live there forever. Where's the Lonesome Bridge?” Spencer asked, trying to rack his brain and think where this ideal living space was.

“It’s in Utah. I love how you don’t care about how I get there, just where I’m going.” Zuli smiled, looking down at the drawing she’d made as a young kid, a white wooden house with multicoloured balloons poking out of its chimney.

“Not to crush your dreams but how do you expect to fly a house. If I’m not mistaken, Utah is at least six hundred and seventy miles…” Spencer’s voice trailed off as a dark frown dropped over Zuli’s face.

It was replaced with a burst of laughter and an excited flap of Zuli’s hands. “Okay so, I estimated that my dream house would be roughly around one hundred thousand pounds in weight, and if I used balloons that were around six feet in diameter, I’d only need, oh what was it..” She hurried to flip to the next page, covered in scribbles of calculations and more drawings of coloured balloons across the page, “Ah! Thirteen thousand, two hundred and eight balloons.”

Spencer watched as she smiled down at her drawings, continuing to explain how the impossible was actually possible. Although he definitely didn’t have a life threatening disease in which this was a symptom, he felt as if his heart was swelling. Unfamiliar with this feeling, he should’ve been uncomfortable but he couldn’t feel more at ease and peace as he did then.

Zuli felt the same unknowingly to him, her heart pouring out of her mouth within her words as she unravelled her future and shared it all with Spencer. She hoped deep, deep, deep down inside that he would stick around and see these wonderful things with her.

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: something sad (Grief)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him. A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ AU.

Characters:  Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia

WARNINGS: Major Character death, swearing, heavy angst. destructive behaviour.

(Additional part here)

..

(Grief- Katsuki self reflects and visits Izuku’s grave)

Katsuki knows he has a volatile personality, probably inherited it from his mum, and enough attitude that he has steamrolled his way through life without much difficulty. Things annoyed him easily and he got irritable at the drop of a hat. He has enough self-awareness to recognise that as a flaw, even if he had never seen it as much of a problem. 

There was a difference between irritation and anger. Deku had always made him angry, inducing a burning hot sensation that ate at his insides. Now Deku was gone and he couldn't turn any of it off. It was like the world was suck behind a filthy pane of glass that he couldn’t smash through no matter how hard he tried.

Katsuki watches the head of his Kamui Woods figurine bend at an odd angle as the plastic began to superheat, having been exposed to a string of minor blasts. He had been slowly working his way through his figurine collection as both quirk training and to take the edge off his anger. Melting this figurine was particularly cathartic. 

“Perhaps we should look into getting you some new hobbies.”

Katsuki shifts his focus to glare at his father who stands at his bedroom door, an expression of worry pulling at his features. No surprises there, worry was his father’s default response to anything Katsuki did these days.

 “Not interested.”

“Something to get you out of the apartment,” his father continues to which  Katsuki narrows his eyes. He wouldn’t be in the apartment if he had any say in it. Both his parents know this. 

“Some physical activity where you’ll be able to let loose without having to worry about property damage. I have a colleague whose brother runs a kickboxing studio. I can make arrangements for you to spend time…” 

“I said, I’m not interested,” he grumbles, returning to his current distraction.

“Well, I want you to think about it,” his dad instructs, “It would do you a lot of good and it’s something you’re passionate about….” 

The figurine Katsuki is holding begins to blacken, colours melting away under his tiny, controlled bursts. There is an unhappy sigh from his father and the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall. He growls and the figurine explodes with a small Bang. Melted plastic is flung across his walls and floor. 

He knows what his dad is trying to do…

How many times had he begged his parents for better training opportunities, for karate or boxing lessons, only to be denied due to money restraints? Outside of a few judo lessons he had received as a birthday gift from Inko one year, any combat training he did he had been self-taught. 

Now he’s no longer interested, his parents are practically threatening him with extracurricular activities. 

It’s fucking annoying is what it is. 

He reaches for another figurine only to find that he has none left aside from his limited edition All Might collection.  He lets out an angry breath, trying to rid himself of his restless irritation. It doesn’t work, and he ends up standing so he can pace back and forth, listening to the pop, pop, focusing on his tingling skin as sparks run up and down his arms. It keeps him distracted for all of two seconds. 

Usually, he would be at the library studying, or going on long runs and working on his physical conditioning. Sometimes, he would meet up with a few of the loser-extras from school and they would visit an arcade. Recently, he had taken to wandering through the streets around his neighbourhood, waiting for something to piss him off enough that his mind would white-out in pure rage and could forget reality for a few seconds. Obviously, that had become a lot harder after several run-ins with the local police had had him all but permanently grounded outside of school hours. 

This is what he wanted… he remains himself. His plan to piss people off enough that he received some iota of punishment was working like a charm so, of course, it sucked. He hated it, but then, he hated all the alternatives as well so what did any of it matter. 

Katsuki ends up with his ear pressed against the door, listening for activity in the living room, waiting for an opportunity to make a break for it. He needs to be careful because Aunt Inko is visiting and the last thing he wants is to see her stupid, sympathetic smile. 

When it sounds like the coast is clear, he creeps out, stealing down the hall. Muffled voices from the kitchen are all the encouragement he needs to beeline for the door and slip out before anyone can spot him. He’ll be in trouble for this later. He’s counting on it. 

The hot summer air is a welcome change from the chill of air conditioning. There is the loud buzz of cicadas, chirping away in the sticky heat. He picks a direction and walks, not caring that he is wearing the sweatpants and the black singlet he had slept in. If someone has a problem with his presentation, he is more than willing to throw down. 

Unfortunately, the relief being out of the apartment brings is short-lived. Today, a feeling of discomfort follows after him which has nothing to do with the heat. A bubbling frustration that bites at his heels as he stalks the streets. It is that feeling he has come to associate with times when all his rage burns away, leaving him numb.  

He doesn’t plan to stop at the florists, he just sort of does. 

He turns suddenly into the store before he can properly process what he is doing. The chime on the glass door rings and the sickly-sweet smell of the store has his nose wrinkling. Before he can chicken out and retreat, he walks to the counter. 

“How much?” He snaps at the older lady in overalls manning the register, pointing at the nearest bunch of white flowers. He has no idea what type they are but that wasn’t the point wasn't it?

“Ah,” The woman squints at him, taken back “That depends how many you want?”

“I don’t care” He smacks the few yen he has on the counter, “However many that’ll get me. Don’t rip me off.”

 The woman nods slowly, “Do you just want these specifically? You don’t want to add some more colour to the bouquet? White is a bit of a dower colour.”

“Whatever is cheapest…just make it quick.” He is already regretting coming in.

The woman hums, pulling out a roll of paper, beginning to place and wrap the flowers Katsuki had pointed to. 

“Who are they for if I may ask?”

“No.”

“Oh? A special friend maybe,” She begins to tease.

“He’s dead,” he snaps abruptly, “and he’s not my friend. Just give me the damn flowers.” Why did people always make this shit more difficult than it needed to be?

The old hag is silent after that, awkwardly finalising his purchase which ends up being an assortment of white flowers with a few smaller yellow and red ones scattered between. It almost looks pretty and it is sickly-sweet smelling, just like the store.

He tries no to think about his destination as he walks with renewed deliberation. He doesn’t think about it right up until he is practically walking into the low stone wall nearest the gate. The shock of seeing the place has him freezing in place, breath catching. The last time he had been here had been during the funeral.

There are lines of thin, tightly packed, gave markers, rising horizontally on sets on uneven steps. There is barely room for people to pass between them on the narrow, flagstone path. Trees are scattered throughout the space, providing patches of uneven shade. The noise of the cicadas is louder here, almost oppressive in its throbbing hum.  For a moment, all he wants to do is walk up to the nearest stone and blow it all sky high. Then he would be sure to flatten every marker in the place until the land was a barren waste. That would get him arrested for sure. The thought passes quickly, and his eyes slide away from the cemetery to his flowers. They don’t look nearly as nice now he has almost strangled them with an unintentionally tight grip.

He breaths out, resisting the urge to set something on fire. Slowly, he walks up the steps, passing the small temple at the entrance. Deku is buried further in, his stone modest in size when compared to the others.

“Deku…” He grows out a greeting when he arrives and it gets caught in his throat. The stone, obviously, does not respond.

Before he can accidentally blow them up, he carefully places the flowers next to the small pile already adorning the small stone. There are more offerings than he expects to be there. He recognises a few of the names from school. One larger bunch looks especially expensive and elaborate, monopolising most of the limited surface space.

‘From Yagi Toshinori’ the card attached reads. Katsuki doesn’t recognise the name. 

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, he didn’t know shit about Deku other than their shared ambition to be a hero.

“Deku…” Why the fuck is he having trouble talking, “You’re...” He stops.

 “You’re a fucking moron,” he manages to spit.

“I didn’t need you to save me.” The anger is burning so hot that its almost unbearable. Pop, pop, his hands fizzle. “I didn’t want your help.”

BANG! He makes sure the explosion is directed away from the stone and up into the sky. The small shock wave it produces rustles the flowers and nearby trees. All the cicadas stop chirping at once, plunging the area into an eerie quiet. His legs feel shaky and he is practically vibrating with anger. 

“What did you think a quirkless idiot could have done!”

Save his pathetic life while the real Heroes watch him suffocate from the side-lines? His brain supplies an answer. It was all a big joke wasn’t it? The bastards had all watched Deku die. That was what a Hero did apparently, wait for backup while someone died because it was safer for them. Safer for the Hero.

 His legs give way and he falls to his knees, curling his hands into fists, jaw locking up. Finally, the haze of anger falls away and his mind quietens. Everything was painfully clear now. People didn’t care when Katsuki yelled, swore, and hurt other kids, because his quirk was amazing, making him amazing. What a joke. If he hadn’t had his quirk, then the Slime Bastard would have had nothing to work with, and Deku might still be alive.

“I’m…I’m fucking sorry okay." He had always treated Deku like shit and he doesn’t think, if their positions had been reversed…he doesn’t think that he would have even thought about saving someone like himself.

The truth stings. He slams his fist into the flagstone next to him and he watches it crack.

"I’m sorry…”

He was lucky…that’s all he was… He wasn’t special… he was just an average human with a good work ethic and a garbage personality who just happened to have a powerful quirk.

He wasn’t a hero…well, not one like Deku had tried to be…like Deku had been…

He didn’t even want to be a hero...not anymore...He doesn’t know what he wants.

“Damnit…” the words have no heat behind them. The explosive rage that had been burning continuously in his chest for the last week simmers, snuffing out like a candle. There is a hole where his anger had eaten away at something fundamentally him, leaving empty space.

Katsuki leans forward, letting his head thump against the stone. 

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Four: Supper

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,748

MASTERLIST

~

A sudden loud beep had you shooting upright in bed. You leapt up and put your ear to the door. Rather than sinister noises, you heard the faint humming of a very familiar theme song.

You cracked open the bedroom door, peeking into the kitchen where Spencer was bustling around with a frying pan and a spatula with a focused expression on his face, humming the theme music to Doctor Who under his breath.

It was actually kind of adorable. You pushed open the bedroom door further to get a better look, but the door creaked and Spencer spun around, withdrawing his gun and pointing it square in your face.

“I’m sorry!” you squealed, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He quickly holstered his gun and ran over to you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” you tried to laugh. “A little shaken but I’m okay. Really!” you added after a doubtful look from him.

His eyes were a deep hazel that seemed to peer into your soul. His hands felt good on your shoulders, clutching you tightly in comfort. It had been a while since you’d had, well, any physical contact. He was so tall he had to lean down to level his face with yours.

Suddenly, he seemed to realize how close the two of you were and stepped back, clearing his throat. 

“I was, uh, trying to make dinner.”

“I can see that,” you said playfully, with a glance at the kitchen in disarray.

“Yeah. I’m not the best cook. I can memorize thousands of recipes in minutes but i’ve never seemed to master the execution.”

You hesitated. 

“Thousands of recipes in minutes? What are you a genius?” you laughed.

“Scientifically, yes. An I.Q. score over 160 classifies someone as a genius.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You’re kidding?”

He shook his head, slipping his hands into his pockets and shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Wait so you can read like, a thousand words per minute?”

“Twenty-thousand,” he corrected, stepping back into the kitchen to continue cooking.

“Twenty-thousand!? That’s impossible!”

“Actually, the unconscious brain can process up to eleven million bits of information per second. It’s just a matter of being able to—“

“—to access the information from your subconscious,” you said, cutting him off. “Wow. That’s impressive.”

He looked at you in shock.

“What’s even more impressive is that you finished a sentence for me.”

“Sorry,” you blushed.

“No! No, I mean, not a lot of people can, erm, keep up. When you start college at fourteen, not many people expect you to be smarter than them. Then when they find out how smart you really are, it can be intimidating.”

Your mouth twitched up into a smile. Spencer was impressive, for sure, but he was also entertaining. Not in a make-fun-of kind of way, but he made you laugh. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Supper’s ready!”

You stifled a laugh.

“Supper?”

“What?” he looked over at you, reaching up to get two plates.

“Who says supper? Are you eighty?” you teased. 

“I’m twenty-six!” he said indignantly.

You froze.

“Wait, really?” He nodded. “You’re only twenty-six and you’re a prominent FBI agent? How?”

“Genius I.Q, three Ph.D.’s, and my irresistible charm,” he said, giving a goofy smile.

“Three PhDs? How? I’m getting a PhD and I can barely keep up with the workload!”

“You‘re getting a Ph.D.? That wasn’t in your police report. What’s it in?” he asked as he filled your plates. 

“Actually, I’m working on two.”

“Two!?”

You nodded, happy that you’d been able to shock him.

“Yep. Linguistics and Philosophy. I like Philosophy better but Linguistics is more challenging. The library won't let you into the section with the really good language books without a certain clearance. But I've actually nearly finished my thesis for it. What?” you added, noticing him staring at you.

“You’re working on two doctorates simultaneously?”

“Surprised you’re not the only genius?” you joked, taking your plate from him, then, upon seeing what he’d made, bursting out into laughter. 

“What?” he looked genuinely confused, which only made you laugh harder.

“Bacon?” you said through gasps. “Bacon and pancakes? You are aware it’s—“ you glanced at the clock, “—nine forty at night?”

“Gimme a break!” he said defensively. “It’s the only thing I can cook. The word ‘cook‘ being a generous descriptor.” 

It was better than Doritos and bourbon for dinner, your go to meal. You were just glad you’d had the stuff to make dinner. It would be very awkward trying to explain your unhealthy eating habits to Spencer.

You didn’t have a dining table. Anyway, you usually ate on the couch and watched something on TV. That was normal nowadays right? Whatever. Spencer didn’t seem to mind which was good enough for you.

“So, um,” he said nervously, pulling out a pad of paper and pencil. “There’s a few things I need to go over with you.”

You nodded, remembering the situation you were in.

“Is there anyone you can think of who might have shown a sort of stalking behavior before? They’d be unreliable, constantly late, not being able to stick to a schedule?”

“The only person I know like that is Claire, one of my co-workers, but she’s not a stalker, she's just always late to work. Honestly, the only people I really know are my co-workers, some people from school, and Steve, my friend.”

“The FBI is going to need a list of people you see frequently. If you could put that together as soon as you’re ready. Also, all your credit card information will have to be analyzed, everywhere it’s been used. Whoever accesses your card, even for something as small as a stick of gum, has the opportunity to use that information to find your name, your address, your workplace—”

“Ok. I get it. People I see frequently and my credit card info. Gotta warn you, there’s not much I buy with it other than books and coffee. Then again, there’s the occasional splurge at the mall.”

“Well, the FBI needs all of it.”

You nodded softly, staring at the bacon on your plate. He hadn’t said I need he’d said The FBI needs. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly.

“Do you want to watch something?” he said, gesturing toward the TV. “It might be a good distraction?”

“Yeah,” you put your plate on the coffee table, noticing that you’d barely eaten. “Yeah that sounds good. Could you just put something on? I don’t wanna choose.”

He nodded and picked up the remote.

The only thing he really knew you liked was Doctor Who so he put on a random episode. You let the TV become background noise to your thoughts as you stared off into space.

Spencer was comforting to be around. He helped take your mind off the situation you were in. You looked over at him on the couch, long legs crossed under him. He had taken off his tie and shoes and changed into more casual clothes: a jumper and some jeans. He was absentmindedly fiddling with the throw blanket between you on the couch. 

His hands are so long, you thought. Wait, why were you thinking that? You shouldn’t be thinking about his hands. Or how long they were. Or what they could—

“Are you alright?”

You felt yourself twitch, startled by his sudden acknowledgment. Even more embarrassing, you were sure he’d seen you staring at his hands.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Hey,” he moved closer on the couch, “you don’t have to be sorry. It’s alright to not be okay.”

They were just words, they didn’t help. What did help was the care behind them. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort you, he actually meant it. To him, it really was ok to not be okay.

“Thank you Spencer, that actually helps.”

You glanced at the clock. It was 10:26.

“I should do some schoolwork,” you said, cringing afterward. You didn’t want him to think of you as some school kid.

“Okay!” he chirped happily, standing as you stood like a proper gentleman. “I’ll just be out here. Is it okay if I keep watching?” The episode played on, The Doctor dangling from a rope above London. “I really like this episode,” he said sheepishly.

“Sure,” you chuckled. “I’ll be in my room and please let me know if you need anything, seriously.”

He nodded assent, but you weren’t sure if he actually would. He seemed a little withdrawn, comforting you when you needed but keeping his distance when possible. It’s his job to keep you safe, you reminded yourself. Don’t get excited.

An hour later your eyes watered from the strain of keeping them open. But you were almost done with this paper. Sure, it was due next week but you were on a roll. Using an allusion to the Holocaust to support the point that Hollywood writing is riddled with antisemitism. In the morning, it might not sound as clever, but to your sleep-deprived brain, it was poetry.

A light knock on your door startled you.

“Come in,” you croaked.

Spencer peeked into your room, squinting.

“It’s pitch black in here,” he said, reaching for the light.

You shrieked as the light filled the room, blinding you.

“TOO BRIGHT!” you yelled, slamming your computer shut and throwing your arms over your eyes.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he fumbled with the switch and clicked it off. The room was now shrouded in darkness, neither of you able to see yet.

“Are you there, Spencer?”

“Yeah.”

You were both whispering. Why was it that people whispered in the dark? 

“You should try and get some sleep,” Spencer said. He was becoming more visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. He had changed into a blue set of pajamas. The fabric looked so soft.

“Yeah,” you muttered, moving toward the bed, “Yeah, I’ll do that.” 

Your bed felt scratchy and cold. Just last night getting in bed had been such a relaxing experience. So much had changed in a day.

“I’ll be right in the next room if you need anything,” 

“Hmm,” you hummed.

Spencer padded back out of your room.

The moment before the door closed you thought you heard a very faint, “Good night, Y/N.” But before you could wonder if it had happened or not, you were dropping off into a deep sleep. Knowing that you were safe with Spencer in the next room.

~

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