#please i have been around sheep many times that is not what their faces look like in my experience dsjflkdjgklfdjglkfd

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

july 18, 2021 7:00 a.m. cathal and eimear's house

[theminecraftbee]

The moon has fully set over the horizon. The howling over the server has stopped. Four Hermits sit in a circle, staring just slightly away from each other, as to not be caught staring. Joe is miserably trying to wring mud out of his puppet. Stress isn't bothering about the mud at all but is despairing at how shredded her jumper is. Somehow, Zedaph has only lost a shoe, which is more concerning than any of the prior people. Xisuma is deliberately not checking himself. The damning lack of helmet on his head, though, means he can't avoid feeling how he underwent the same terrible transformation as everyone else.

"So," he says, finally.

"I could use pants," Joe says, finally giving up on washing out his puppet, and, ah. Yes. Those are pretty well destroyed, aren't they? Xisuma looks away politely, feeling his face heat up. It heats up more when he realizes everyone can see it, gosh, he's–he's not so sure how he feels about that–

"I think we all need pants. Look at us," Stress says, and if Xisuma can be looking away any harder, he sure is now. Wait, she said 'all', does that include... Oh, oh dear.

"Well I don't know about you, but I still have perfectly serviceable pants," Zedaph says imperiously.

"You know, if anything, that's weirder, given the way we were all giant wolves traipsing around in the night just now. Which is strange itself! However, wolves don't normally wear pants, so really, the fact the only article of clothing you've lost is your shoes is less miraculous and more actively impossible!" Joe responds.

"Well you're actively impossible," mutters Zedaph.

"My god, it was real," Xisuma says.

"Well, I mean, I sort of figured it had to be, what with the four of us being all covered in mud and tired and your helmet being gone and all that," Stress says.

"It was real," Xisuma says.

The four of them sit in silence a little longer. The sun continues its steady march upwards into the sky. It's April; the day is longer than the night, by now, so they aren't wasting but so much time compared to the time the moon was up. The time the moon was up feels a bit more like a dream than anything else, too; distantly, Xisuma wonders if this is what spiders feel like when they become angry during the night, or what drives the undead from the ground. It's a disquieting thought, and he'd literally lived in a skeleton!

"So," Joe says. "So. Which one of us is going to yell at Zedaph for biting us?"

"Rude!" Zedaph says. "Very rude, I'm not the one that bit you! You bit me! Xisuma bit me, actually, you all saw him!"

"What? No, I didn't!" Xisuma says. "Gosh, if I were a werewolf, don't you think you'd know by now?"

"Hm. Suspicious," Zedaph says.

"No?" Xisuma says.

"I mean, I'd try to claim it was my fault, what with being a monster and all, but I'm actually a different sort of beastie normally," Stress says. "Being all doggy is new for me. I should show Iskall. Hey, do you think I should bite Iskall?"

"Yes," Zedaph says.

"No," Xisuma says.

"I'll split the difference and say maybe," Joe says. "Also, since we're arguing about it anyway, I'll say that I think I'd remember if I bit someone, although maybe I wouldn't. It's been a weird night. Maybe I should just go ahead and get everyone apology gifts instead?"

"Please don't," Zedaph says.

"Aww, but I like his gifts," Stress says.

"Honestly, yeah, I was–no, Zedaph is right, it'd be too distracting," Xisuma says, thinking of many of the, er, gifts he's gotten from Joe in the past. "Besides, it's not your fault. But if none of us bit anyone, then why on earth are we all werewolves no–oh no."

"That was ominous?" Joe says.

"Oh. Ohhhhhh," Zedaph says. "Whoops."

"It was supposed to be a joke about investment bankers," Xisuma says.

"Wait, what, do you really think the silly name turned us into werewolves?" Stress says.

"I had other season plans, Xisuma!" Joe says.

"Hey, does that make me a sheep in wolf's clothing that's also a wolf that turns into a sheep that turns into a wolf? If so, neat," Zedaph says.

"Do you know how annoying it will be to get a werewolf puppet?" Joe says.

"Gosh, I absolutely have to bite Iskall now," Stress says.

Xisuma, for a moment, considers putting a stop to it. If it really is the silly name, the collective, the hats and the howls–if it really is the collective weight of story bearing down on all of them–then really, it's still so early that it would be very easy to stop.

Xisuma considers the competition the rest of the shopping district poses, and how easy it will be to move as a collective when they're also a pack.

Also, he hasn't actually been a wolf before. That's one mob he hasn't done!

"You should bite Iskall. I want to know what it does," Xisuma says, deciding that he's quite bored with being responsible and that if someone wants to stop it, it will have to be not him. "But, er, first, in the meantime, do you think he or Doc is better to ask for a helmet that'll grow to fit my muzzle instead of nearly trapping my skull?"

"Hm," Stress says. "Well, Iskall is pretty good at head electronics."

"Yeah, but Doc is a better choice for abominations against nature!" Joe says.

"What about me? I like abominations," Zedaph says.

"It's okay, Zedaph, it's just you don't make many helmets, is all," Xisuma says. "We'll run around being abominations of nature, gosh, most full moons together. Is that good enough?"

"Fine," Zedaph says. "I'm bringing the snacks. I have sheep, and I've always wanted to try cannibalism."

"I guess werewolves wouldn't have to worry about prions," Joe says, nodding.

"Well, if you're going to get Doc, I'm going to go bite Iskall. I know I don't got fangs right now but it'll be very funny either way," Stress says.

"Have fun!" Xisuma says, and even though he's still red, and no one has pants but Zedaph, and he feels vaguely sick without his helmet, he also feels something close to pure delight. Gosh. Werewolves, huh? What a concept, having a little pack. He'll have to make the most of it; they've already seen his face anyway, and not one of them have commented or looked him in the eyes. Clearly, it won't matter so much if Doc takes a while with the helmet.

[molinaskies]

Lanolin: Designed to be Dislikable.

Hi friends. I’ve had a number of people in my digital face over the last few months trying to “show me the light of Lanolin,” but I’ve kept these interactions private because there’s no need to put them on blast. Of course, they're mostly respectful and I’m often reminded that I have a right to my opinion, but there is always an undercurrent that I might have just missed this one small tidbit that could blow the case wide open because how could I possibly not like her? How could I not understand her character and be empathetic to her plight?

But I’ve watched the videos. I’ve read the think pieces. I’ve seen it all. But my opinion hasn’t changed and that does not mean I’m wrong… nor does it mean I’m right! We have two different opinions that should be allowed to co-exist.

I’m being a touch cross here, I recognize. Please forgive me for that, this once. But frankly, I am frustrated—not because people like Lanolin, but because many seem incredulous to the fact that I dislike her. And I can only assume that means I simply have not made myself clear.

Consider this my final take on Lanolin the Sheep until there is some significant development for this character.

I am allowed to dislike Lanolin because she is a fictional character whom I’ve done the research on and have come to that conclusion. Done. That’s all she wrote. Go home.

That aside entirely for the sake of argument, I am allowed to dislike Lanolin because she is supposed to be unlikeable as per her role in this story. I dislike Lanolin because I dislike assholes, but I also like Lanolin because she is doing her job very fucking well! lol

Lanolin is not supposed to be in the right. She is a character who is making major mistakes due to her lack of experience combined with her arrogant dismissal of others, and she will eventually be punished by Mimic’s betrayal to teach the audience some sort of lesson. If half of this comic’s runtime has been about punishing Sonic—the titular character—for his mistakes, then Lanolin can get punished once. I would bet real world money that this will happen.

So many characters are sus of Duo by now and have tried to do something about it but Lanolin gets in the way because she can’t listen to reason. The only reason Silver and Whisper “go rogue” is because Lanolin wouldn’t listen to reason—and her response was still disproportionate because when Whisper tried again to explain herself, Lanolin made her hit the deck.

Lanolin is Sonic with some pieces missing. We know this because Lanolin directly cites Sonic as her inspiration for getting involved in the restoration. However, Lanolin looks at Sonic, sees his behaviour, and emulates it without any understanding or regard for how he has earned the right to do what he does. Sonic is insolent, not arrogant, because he only denies authority when it isn’t earned. Sonic is defiant, not self-righteous, because he believes there are multiple ways to solve a problem. Sonic is empathetic, not sympathetic, because he takes the time to learn and experience what it means to live on the other side. Lanolin has modelled herself off of Sonic because Sonic is a hero, but she’s missed the bigger picture of what that actually means.

Lanolin is cold, unkind, and unwilling to be wrong because she thinks she knows everything she needs to be in this game. That is inherently unlikable to some people and therefore justified.

But there’s more to this, isn’t there?

A huge defence of Lanolin as a character is that “she has baggage that makes her rough around the edges,” and you know what? Fair! You would not believe how empathetic I am to that, trust me. Imma get into it. But the reality of the case is that Lanolin is her own keeper, and if Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Rouge, the Chaotix, Tangle, Whisper, Silver, Blaze, Jewel, Belle, and many others can carry their baggage around and still treat others with respect and without verbal and physical abuse, then there’s no excuse. Yes, it takes time to get there, and the whole point of Lanolin as a character is that she hasn’t learned the “everyone is useful just the way they are” and “a leader is nothing without her team” lessons, yet.

But allowing Lanolin to lash out at the world only to let her hide behind her trauma is a deeply reductive portrayal of trauma survivors that I find aggressively problematic. Further, it is a failure to Lanolin as a character because, again, that is not the fucking point of her.

This is the one time I will ever ask anyone here to just “take my word” for something. I’m not comfortable airing out too much of my personal issues on the internet. But below is what I can share.

I come from a very, very broken home that instilled a lot of unproductive defence mechanisms within me. In short, I used to be very mean because I was neglected, and acting out against my peers and showing off my skills gave me attention.

The big ticket, though, is I thought I was good. I thought I was Great. Awesome. Outstanding. AMAZING. I was a natural-born leader with a drive for justice who was good at a couple things. I thought I was doing everything right because teachers liked me and I was getting opportunities. What I never saw—never could have possibly seen until it was spit right in my face—was how I was treating everyone around me as beneath me because I thought I had it in the bag.

It wasn’t until I learned about a very public smear campaign against me that I got a wake up call. When I saw what people were saying, it shattered my entire paradigm not because of just how heinous it was, but because of how much of it was true—and that broke my heart. All I have ever wanted to do was help people. Fight for people. Protect people. Elevate people. Support people. For me to learn I was doing the exact opposite of what I set out to do absolutely destroyed me.

After that, I immediately switched up my game. I pulled out all the stops and really focused on being kinder, empathetic, and encouraging. I started to become more self-aware and mindful of how my emotions and behaviour impacted others, but it still took years to even start to comprehend that I was traumatized, let alone the ways my trauma impacted my relationships and behaviour.

I used to be Lanolin. I was a mean girl getting progressively meaner from ages 11-17, and I am still in active recovery. I still make mistakes. I still fall from grace occasionally, but I am working on it. I’m almost 24 now.

Remember when this used to be about a cartoon sheep? Back on track LOL.

I promise you that while Lanolin has some moments of clarity, she is not largely aware of what she’s doing. She’s not evil. She is not unworthy of love. She just needs time for the story to let her learn.

I am not saying Lanolin does not deserve a redemption. What I am saying is that down her current path and with her current behaviour, she has not yet earned one. And here’s the thing: even though what I’m about to say probably will not happen because this is a kids comic directed at 12 year olds, just because Lanolin might eventually get her punishment, see the light, and apologize for her wrongs while acting on solutions, no one she hurt owes her forgiveness. Whisper can still tell her to fuck off. Silver can send her to outer space, Sonic 06-style. Tangle can yeet her back to kingdom-wherever the fuck she-come from (hush, I know it’s Riverside). 

Why? Because the reality is that even if you are a changed person and have learned and grown from your past discretions, you still hurt people. Even if they do forgive you, they may never trust, and they will never forget. That is the reality I and many others like me live in daily, and to be frank: I think it’s entirely fair. I made mistakes, and I gotta pay the consequences. I deserve grace and patience, but that can only go so far. The people around me are human the exact same way I am.

I personally believe that I have never misunderstood Lanolin as a character. She’s snarky and inexperienced and abrasive entirely by design. She is meant to showcase the “wrong” ways to be a hero and will be corrected. But just because she is a rough-and-tumble person who had a bad day at work does not mean she can come home and treat the world as her personal shitter. No one has that right.

And if you disagree with me, good! Welcome to MolinaSkies.

[artistsfuneral]

Jaskier meets Death at a forked path. He has never seen them in person before, their face - although incredible kind looking - is not one he's familiar with and yet he instinctively knows who is in front of him.

It's quite the idyllic picture to be honest. The path Jaskier has been following for the past few hours is lined with rough stone walls, the ones that are keeping flocks of sheep from straying too far. The sun is out and shining through the tree's leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of dancing shadows on the fresh grass. Death sits under one such dancing shadow-patch, surrounded by napping sheep. Their left hand is idly petting the spotted fur of a guardian dog, with their right, they're waving Jaskier over to join them.

He silently wonders if he should be scared. Others certainly would be terrified upon seeing Death waiting for them, but Jaskier has always been easily intrigued. Besides, Death is hardly looming over him, it's more like they're waiting for him - like one may wait for an old friend. It could be a trick of course, he muses as he walks over to where Death is sitting, then again it feels like the two of them could have met many, many times before and in much worse situations than this. So who is Jaskier to question Death?

The closer he gets the more he is able to take in. They're tall - taller than anyone he's met before, Jaskier thinks - and incredibly pretty. Not in the perfectly manicured kind of pretty, like some of the most beautiful darlings at court tend to be. No, Death carries a natural loveliness that can only be found and never created, like a special constellation of freckles, an off-center nose, or a small gap between your teeth. Death is everyone Jaskier ever sung of combined in one person, which makes him wonder if they always look like this or if they changed their appearance to please Jaskier's eyes specifically. If the latter, he'd surely feel flattered.

"Come sit with me, sweetheart," Death says and Jaskier is delighted to hear their voice. It's a very nice voice. He wants to hear Death laugh, he realizes as he sinks down next to them on the grass. Their eyes meet his and Death sends him the kindest smile, "It's been a while since I've seen you, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you happy and healthy." Jaskier grins, because what a funny thing for Death to say, but he can hear the honesty in their words. "Oh you know, just the usual aches and pains of my slowly progressing age. Nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before, I'm sure," Jaskier happily chatters back in the same familiar tone. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He asks and reaches for his pack. Might as well take his lunch break now, while the fruit he bought earlier this day are still fresh. Death answers his question with an agreeing hum and oh yes, Jaskier might just fall in love with them right then and there.

He focuses on his lunch and wills his foolish heart to calm. "Would you like some?" he asks Death, because his Mama raised him well and eating alone is never quite as enjoyable as sharing a meal. Death looks at him with amusement in their eyes. "I can not eat, but I appreciate the gesture."

Jaskier sighs, "What a pity."

"A small price to pay for a life like mine."

"You're alive?"

"I am here, am I not?"

He looks at Death wide eyed, a hundred thoughts stumbling through his mind at the same time. "I have so many questions."

"And I have a favor to ask of you, sweetheart," Death retords not unkindly. Throughout their short conversation the amusement never quite left their eyes and while Jaskier would normally feel patronized by such a look he somehow knows that Death is simply enjoying his company.

"Are we doing this right? Doesn't this whole asking for a favor thing usually go the other way around?" Death laughs and Jaskier's heart does a little jump, his fingers itch to write a new song. "You read too much, sweetheart."

"I don't believe there's such a thing as reading too much."

"The words of a scholar and a poet."

"At your service."

"Of course. I always get what I want," Death says knowingly, shoving yet another metaphorical box of Pontar towards Jaskier. Lucky for him he has long since learned to not think about these kind of things too much. It does feel a little bit like Death tricked him, though he loves a good repartee. "I have to admit, I am curious indeed. What could I possibly offer to you?"

Death turns their head away from him, looking at the dog in deep consideration. "I need..." Death pauses and Jaskier almost wants to think of it in a hesitant way, "to win a bet." The bard's shoulders drop immediately. "Ah," he says, because the hesitation now starts to make sense. Surely Death must know this of him. "I don't do bets, I'm afraid. It never ends well for the poets caught in between."

"I know," Death agrees easily and not very reassuringly, as a matter of fact. "But I am in need of a song. A song to bring the gods to tears and neither can I write nor sing. What I can do, is offer you my protection."

Jaskier's mind floods with thoughts.

Protection from Death.

The two of them stare into each other's eyes, the world around them timeless, everlasting. Finally, it is Jaskier who breaks the contact and returns to his bundle of food. He bites into a fruit, it's sweet juices run down his chin and drip onto his chemise. "I will make the gods weep," he declares and watches Death smile full of warmth.

[pholla-jm]

Colors

IMAGINE: COLORS - ZORO X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: soulmate au. a bit ooc? ****************

The world was rather drab in your opinion. Just black, white and grays. And to see color you have to meet a certain person, your soulmate to be more specific. 

You hated that idea. If you want to see the world at its fullest you have to depend on a single person? You cursed the deity that created it. You wanted to be an independent person, and falling in love only sounded like it was going to slow you down. 

So you continued to live life in monochrome, accepting to live like this. That doesn’t mean you hated every second of it. To make the best of it, you traveled to different islands, exploring different cultures and trying different foods. 

It was a good life. 

The island you were currently at was quite busy. People constantly bump into each other, shoving, just trying to get to their destination. You wouldn’t be surprised if there were any pickpockets in the area. You didn’t really like it, too many people. So you decided to head to the docks to find your little boat. 

However, it was gone. Someone had stolen it. Your day literally couldn’t get any worse. 

Your eyes gaze at all the other ships, trying to find one that you deemed worthy enough to get help. A ship with a sheep figurehead caught your eyes. It was rather… cute. 

You could see some people walking around on the deck. With a deep sigh, you mentally prepare yourself to play the damsel in distress. Forcing tears to sheen over your eyes, you climb up the ship. 

“Excuse me,” You softly say, tears becoming more fresh in your eyes as you try to catch someone's attention. 

“Hey! What are you doing on my ship?” You hear a boy call out to you. You look at him, seeing that he was wearing a straw hat and an open vest. You could tell he had his guard up, and you don’t blame him. It is his ship anyway. However, you could tell that it would be rather easy to convince. 

“Someone stole my ship… and now I’m stuck here. Can you help me?” “Huh, are you a pirate too?” 

What, a pirate?

You didn’t really consider yourself to be a pirate but if it pleased the boy in front of you, then you would say that you were. 

“Because if you are, then you’re a terrible pirate.” He says and you almost choke on your spit. 

“No,” you whisper while wiping away some tears, “I’m not a pirate. I’m sailing by myself.” 

The boy was about to say something until another woman appeared. 

“Luffy, who is this person?” A taller woman now stood behind the boy, a slight scowl present on her face. 

“I’m (y/n), and my ship has been stolen. I just need passage to the next island… I have berri to pay you with.” You say holding up a small bag of berri, since the rest of it was on your ship. Something that irked you even more.

As soon as the woman heard berri, her scowl lifted away and a bright smile graced her face. “Of course!” She says immediately grabbing the small pouch of money that you had. She walks off, not saying anything else. Leaving you with the boy named Luffy. 

“Welcome to the crew!” He excitedly says. You quirked an eyebrow, “uh. Not part of the crew. Just to the next island.” 

Luffy ignores you, “I’ll show you to the rest of the crew. That was Nami, she’s our navigator,” he grabs your hand and starts to drag you around the ship. He opens one of the doors, which led to a kitchen. A man stood over the stove, stirring something. 

The man sighs hearing the door open. “Luffy, how many times do I have to tell you-” He turns around, ready to scold the boy. However, he stops once he sees you. 

“Well, who do I have the honor meeting?” He walks over to you, with a suave smile. “This is (y/n), she’s going to be a part of the crew now. This is Sanji, he’s the cook” Sanji grabs onto your hand, and you just slightly shake your head, “oh no. Just to the next island.” Sanji brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on it. “Well, I do hope you change your mind.” You nervously laugh at him while pulling your hand back, “thanks.” 

Luffy grabs onto your other hand, dragging you out of the kitchen. 

“This is Usopp!” He shouts pointing to someone with curly hair and quite a long nose. “He’s a-” “I’m the Captain!” He cuts off Luffy. “No! I’m the Captain!” 

The two start to bicker, causing you to sweat drop at their antics. 

While they are bickering, you decide to look around the ship. Your eyes caught a man that was sleeping on the side of the wall. He had three swords right next to him, and you wondered, who uses three swords?

Leaving the two bickering boys, you walked up to the sleeping man. Wanting to get a closer look at the three swords. However, when you are standing right infront of him, his eyes snapped open, looking straight into your eyes.

Suddenly, you could see this green hair. Something that greatly stood out to you. 

Wait. 

You could see the color of his hair. You could see every color around you. 

It was all too much. The sudden rush of colors causes your head to spin and hurt. There were too many colors that you’ve never seen or heard before. You didn't have time to process the fact that you were now face to face with your soulmate. You rush past the man, and lean yourself over the railing. It wasn’t long until you were puking your guts out. 

“Huh, I guess my first impression isn’t that great.” You hear the man speak and you inwardly cringe. He must think you’re disgusting now. 

You groan, pushing yourself up to face your soulmate. Now that your headache has calmed down a little, you were able to take a better look at the man. He was tall, and had a few muscles on him. The thing that stood out to you was his green hair. You weren’t expecting to meet your soulmate on a pirate ship, and an actual pirate nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t expecting to meet my soulmate. And the colors… and it was just too much.” You explain. The man hums in response, “I wasn’t expecting my soulmate to sneak up on me.” You purse your lips, “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you… I was just interested in your swords.” 

The corner of his lips twitched, and he was about to say something until Luffy jumped in between the two of you. 

“(y/n)! There you are! You met Zoro!” He excitedly says. “Yeah, we met. They’re a part of our crew now, right?” Zoro says and your eyes widen. 

It seems like Luffy wasn’t the only one who decided that you were going to be a part of the crew. 

“Shhiiishiiishii, yeah!” 

Zoro shoots you a look, one of amusement and just a little bit of smugness. “Welcome, I can’t wait to show you more about my swords.”Zoro walks away leaving you speechless and Luffy just a little bit confused. “What was that about?” He asks. “Uh, don’t worry about it.” You answer, “I just found my soulmate…” 

[miniwheat77]

Shadow. (König x Reader.)

!CW! SA, NSFW, reader is assaulted, blood, violence, panic attack, p in v sex, smut, (let me know if I missed any.)

Fem!Reader

(Summary): Reader trusts the wrong person and König comes to her rescue.

I seen a fanart of König with a cleft lip and decided to write about it. Also, sorry if I used the pet name Sheep a lot I just think it’s so cute :p

A breath leaves your lips as you sit at the edge of your small cot.

Discomfort and a heavy feeling of dread weighted down on your chest. You hated this feeling you felt, but you felt like you had no way to stop it.

For months, a man named Justin had been your friend on base. You talked to him constantly. He joked with you, you did the same. You talked about all kinds of different subjects with him, until early hours of the morning getting to know him.

Recently though, he’d been acting a little funny. A little more touchy than usual, placing his hand on your thigh, shoulder. Sometimes he’d touch your hair. He’d called you hot once or twice, usually as a joke. You’d shrugged and laughed it off before, assuming it was just innocent joking. But recently it’d been almost every day. Calling you hot, finding any excuse to make a comment about your body and how he felt about it. It started to make you uncomfortable and as you tried to distance yourself from him, you seemed to only run into him more often. You didn’t think you’d ever given him a reason to feel this way toward you, to think you were interested in him. But you have to remember, he is a man, and sometimes this is just how men can be. You’d never flirted with him or even shown him any sort of affection outside of a friendship.

You told him a few times to stop, shrugging him off. He seen you becoming distant and that’s when it went even worse. You didn’t realize, there was a shadow over your shoulder. Admiring you from afar, noticing the way Justin made you uncomfortable.

For the next week or so, he notices you trying to avoid Justin. Learning his patterns and seeing you’ve set your schedule to be the exact opposite.

After a long day of work, your shadow is passing by your room. You and Justin are outside, and he decides to wait. He knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he can’t help it.

“Justin. You have to stop okay? I’ve told you countless times to please stop.” He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. I will stop.”

He is growing angry as he stares upon the both of you, but it’s hidden behind his hood. The demeanor Justin wears shows no remorse. You can’t see it, but your shadow could. He could see all over Justin’s face that he had bad intentions. Once you two part ways, he walks away. A deep pit growing in his chest. He knew this wouldn’t turn out the way you thought it would, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He makes his way back to his small room. It’s all he could think about. He worried about you greatly. Sure, he didn’t know who you were too well. But you were one of his own. And that’s all he needs to protect you.

So that’s what he’d do.

———

Justin walked along the hallway. You’re following behind him, dread growing in your chest. He “had something funny to show you” so you were following him down a dark hallway. You were going to a part of the base being unused as there weren’t many people on base at the moment. When you step inside the empty room, Justin closes it behind you.

Unaware of what lurks in the shadows, just outside the door.

You look around, seeing an almost bare room beyond you. That’s when it clicks what’s going on. “What’s so funny you had to show me?”

You spin around, looking at him. He begins pulling off his vest and jacket. “Nothing funny, just needed to get you alone.” You cross your arms. “Not funny.” You try to pass him, but he pushes you back. “Nothing is funny here. Just.. here to show you how I can be of service to you.”

“I already told you, I am not interested in you in any way.” A dark chuckle leaves his lips. The room is fairly dark, blinds have been closed. You’re looking around for anything you can use as a weapon for your oncoming attack, you know it’s coming. You can’t avoid it. You kick yourself for not bringing your sidearm. But up until this point, Justin was someone you could trust. You didn’t think he’d do this. A deep breath leaves your lips. “Let me go.” You say. Your dominant figure began to falter under his burning gaze. He was tearing you apart with his eyes, and it made you feel small. Something you never expected to feel at the eyes of one of your own. For Christs sake, you fought terrorists all day, but couldn’t stand your ground to him? What the hell.

One moment of weakness, one single second of not paying attention and he’s tackling you, the back of your head hitting the ground with the most god awful cracking sound you’ve ever heard. Your ears are ringing, dazed. Your vision is blurry and you try to pull yourself out of it. When you pull yourself out of your damaged state, you start fighting him off as he claws at your clothing, ripping your shirt open. You try to squirm out of his grasp, but the back of his hand meets with your face in a harsh slap, stunning you even further, your nose beginning to bleed. “Stop fighting me. This is happening and there’s nothing you can do. No one can hear you. Scream all you want.” He grins, evil smile.

He grasps the hem of your pants trying to pull them down your legs. “No one is com-“

The shadowy figure lurks in the dark hallway, looking through the rectangular window on the door. He’s massive, eyes bore through the glass and his face lay emotionless as he lifts his foot. One mediocre kick from the massive man sends the door flying open, slamming into the wall and busting into the drywall. One stride has him standing a few feet away, as Justin scrambled to stand up. You crawl backward, using the bottoms of your feet and hands to crawl away. You fix your cargo pants. Seeing the death glare the shadowy man is sending Justin. The terror in Justin’s eyes brings you joy. Just a couple more strides, and in your blurry vision, you see he grasps tight hold of Justin. You let your head fall back into the ground, the sound of him wailing on Justin is unbearable. You want out, want to reverse time and never become friends with Justin.

Hands touching you make you jump, trying to get away.

“It’s okay.”

His deep voice is soothing. Tears filling your eyes. He’s trying to lift you up but rather, you jump onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as the first sob leaves your chest and he holds you close to him. It was König. He was the one in your shadow, watching over you. König was taken back by your sudden affection, unsure of how to react. Right now, he understood that he was your savior. That you were finding comfort in him and he knew not to push you away. “Did he hurt you?” He asks. Accent filling your ears, that accent was safety. “My head.” You still after taking a couple deep breathes. He lifts you up, propping you up onto a wooden desk stored in the corner of the room. He notices one of your ears have begun bleeding which isn’t a good sign, and it concerns him immediately. “I’m going to take you to the infirmary, Liebling. I will get the captain and talk to him about what happened, okay?” You nod your head. König has on a jacket underneath his vest. He quickly takes his vest off, unzipping the jacket and passing it to you. You could see his fit form underneath his shirt, but you can’t focus on it. You slide on the jacket, swimming in it. It was huge but it had to be to be able to fit his form. While you put on his jacket, he’d put back on his vest.

He lifts you up again, walking down the hallway with you. He pushes past a few people, asking what had happened and he shakes his head. He knows how bad this looks. You’re wearing his jacket, blood down your face from your ear. His knuckles are bloodied from the beating he’d unleashed on Justin. But he doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about right now is your safety. He pushes through the infirmary door and walks into the room to an open bed. He sets you down on a small cot in the infirmary, one of the medics rushing to you quickly, worried about a head injury. “I’ll be back Y/N. I’m going to talk to the Captain.” He grasps your hand, trying to soothe you in your panicked state. You nod your head. “What happened?” The medic asks. “Sgt. Ramsey attacked her. Tried to assault her.” He tries to say it as quietly as possible.

Her eyes widen. And she slows her touch, knowing the last thing you need is someone frisking you any further. He releases your hand and leaves, glancing back. Your eyes are following him as he leaves the room, eyes still full of tears as your glance burned into him. He shouldn’t leave. He should stay. You didn’t want him to go and he could see it in your eyes. But he does, this needed to be taken care of. He exits the infirmary door, walking toward his Captains office and reaching it in just a few strides. He knocks. “Come in!”

“Ah. König. What can I do for you?”

“Sgt. Justin Ramsey lured Y/N into one of the back rooms in the unused barracks and attacked her. Tried to assault her.”

His Captain is taken back. Silence fills the room. “Show me.” He stands up. He follows König down the hallway. They pass the infirmary and your Captain peeks in, seeing you in hysterics as the nurse tried to hook an IV up to your arm. “Jesus Christ.” He closes the door quietly. König continues down the hallway. The door is still open, the wood where the latch was had been split open by the forceful kick König had given it. Justin still lays where König had left him. Small spatters of blood from his forceful punches still surrounded him. “Your work?” Captain says.

König stays silent. “We’re going to have him on the first flight out of here. This fucking behavior is so unacceptable.” He shakes his head. Justin stirs as the Captain shoves him with his foot. He sits up, eyes widening as his eyes meet his Captains. “On your feet soldier.”

Justin stands up immediately. “Care to explain?”

“She wanted it. Practically begged for it.” A growl rumbles in König’s chest and he steps forward, his Captains hand raising to block him. “König caught you in the act. I know that’s untrue.”

“She led me on. She wanted it.”

He shakes his head.

His captain grasps hold of his shirt, slamming his back into the wall behind him. “Tell me why I shouldn’t leave this room and let König here finish the job. Hm?” He’s seething. “Y/N is one of your own. Your sister. And you do this to her? She’s shown you nothing but kindness. I could bury you, say you died in action and nobody would even fucking know your name, hm?” His words are laced with anger.

“That girl is in agony in the infirmary. She’ll think about this incident until the day she dies because of some scumbag.” He draws him forward, slamming him into the wall again. “You’ll be on the first flight out of here. You’re hereby removed from my base.” He releases his shirt, picking up his radio to call on other Lieutenants to come get him. “Go make sure Y/N is okay König. I’ve got this from here.” König nods his head, quickly walking away. When he arrives into the infirmary, you’re still fighting the medic. Your eyes meet his and he can see the desperation, begging. You needed him. The only person you felt safe with at this exact moment in time was König.

He saved you, he was your savior right now. He sits down next to you, grasping hold of you and pulls you into him. “You have to let her do what she needs to do Y/N.” He breathes and you nod your head. Every time you closed your eyes his evil face is all you could see. You hated it. You felt like an idiot for trusting him despite making you so uncomfortable. König could hear Justin yelling in the hallway as they escorted him to another room to keep him there, and he could see the fear rising in your eyes. He places his hand over your ear, pulling you into him. His chest muffles the other and you start to relax. The nurse hooks the IV up as quickly as she can while you’re still, calmed by him soothing you. When the IV is on and she’s taken the blood she needs, and than hooking up fluids for you. Your panic attack would dehydrate you fast and you were refusing water. König makes sure the hallway is silent before allowing you to move. “Are you okay?” He breathes.

You nod your head. The adrenaline from your fight or flight was starting to wear off. Your racing heart was stilling in your chest. “You’re okay. Everything is okay.” He mumbles to you.

The medic disappears, König doesn’t know to where, as she didn’t say anything. But he stays there, right by your side. “I don’t know what I did.” Your voice is unsteady. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I had to have,” a hiccup comes from your throat and you’re trying to be calm, but find it hard. “He-he wouldn’t have done that- if I hadn’t done something wrong.”

He grasps your chin, moving your head to look at him. “Evil people don’t need a reason to cause suffering, sheep.”

Your lip quivering shatters his heart right in his chest and he pulls you into him again.

“What are you thinking?” Your captain looks at the medic who’d gone to request something.

“Two to three week resting period, for the both of them. I assume they stay in the same room, this is a traumatic time for Y/N.” She breathes, looking through the glass on the door as König comforted your shaking form. “The only person she’ll find comfort in for a while will be König.” He nods his head. “I’ll have some of the other medics put together a room for the both of them. They’ll go on a 2 week rest.” He nods his head. She smiles. “They need it.” He walks away, and she steps into the room. You’ve finally calmed down, heavy eyelids that wouldn’t dare close because of intrusive flashbacks. You’ve got a tight grip on König. He wouldn’t leave anyways, but your grasp on him wouldn’t allow it.

König has seen this before. One person latching onto another after a traumatic event. He always thought he’d find it annoying, but at this moment. He doesn’t mind. He likes the way you feel, soft and comfortable against him. He was safe, and the warming feeling he felt made his heart thump in his chest. He was comfort, he was safety. That means everything to König.

“She’s got a small lesion in her ear from her head, but she’ll be okay.” She pulls the IV out, she’d been giving you fluids, worried you’d dehydrate yourself from your panicked state but you’d be okay. “The medics have put together a room for the both of you to stay in. You’ve been placed on a 2 week rest.” König nods his head. He helps you to the other room. Your legs are shaky and your eyelids are still heavy. When he opens the door, there’s two beds. One in each corner of the room. Extra MRE’s and other small items are in the corner as well as Y/N’s items they’d brought from her room. His stuff was there too. “It will be okay.” He tries to soothe you. “Try to get some rest, you will feel better tomorrow.” He breathes. You nod your head as he helps sit you down. “It’s going to be cold tonight, keep the jacket on okay?” You nod your head. “I’ll go into the bathroom so you can change.”

You nod your head, realizing you still had on your cargo pants. He disappears into the bathroom that was adjacent to his bed. This was meant to be a quarantine room. But it would work for this too.

König looks at himself in the mirror, a deep breath leaving his lips. He wanted to kill him for doing that to you. Seeing you in such hysterics shattered him. He hated it. He knows how horrible you must feel. Someone you trusted, had been so close with. Had betrayed you, had hurt you. König always watched from afar of course. You were a stunning girl, how could he not? But he always had that swelling feeling of jealousy whenever he seen you with Justin, smiling and laughing. He always wanted to be close with you, but he didn’t want it to happen like this.

He’d just have to thank Justin for being an idiot and letting you fall right into his arms. After a few more minutes, König opens the door. He walks out slowly to make sure you’re finished dressing yourself. When he sees you’re laying on the bed, facing toward the wall, he comes out completely. He makes his way over to his bag, digging through his bag until he could find his clothes to sleep in. He didn’t mind sleeping in his mask, he’d done it before. He can hear your breathes steady. Steady deep breathes, telling him that you’ve fallen asleep. He sighs. He makes his way into the bathroom, changing. He’s got on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. He was worried. He wanted to be there if you woke up. Once he finishes changing he opens the bathroom door quietly, moving slowly to get to his bed. He lifts the blanket over himself. His eyes started to grow heavy as he laid there. Facing you.

He doesn’t know how long it is. Doesn’t know the time. It’s dark in the room. But he wakes up to you shaking him. “König?” Your quiet voice asks. “Yes love? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Can I lay with you?”

“Of course.” He grasps you, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. He wraps a tight arm around you, your back up against his front. His arm is wrapped around your waist. You’ve got a small grip on his arm. Finding comfort in him. It doesn’t take long until the both of you have fallen asleep.

When König is stirred awake, it’s because he dreams of you giggling. But his eyebrows furrow when hears it more than once, but this time. He’s staring into the darkness of his eyelids. His eyes snap open, and he turns to see you kneeling down by your bed. He rubs his eyes, pulling the blanket off of him and throwing his legs over the bed. Feet laying flat on the cold ground. “Y/N?” He asks. “What are you doing?” He asks. You smile. “There’s a lizard.” You grasp it in your hand, cupping it with your other hand. “Want to see?”

He narrows his eyes. “Sure.” You step toward him, moving one of your hands.

He flinches as it runs up your arm quickly. “Jesus.”

“What, you’re not scared of it are you?” You ask. “No.”

“You wanna hold it?” You lean down. He stands up quickly, moving away from you, “no!” He says. He brushes himself off as you laugh at him. “Are you scared of it?” He asks. “What? No. I just don’t like.. little things like that. They’re weird.” He laughs it off. Blush growing on his cheeks in embarrassment. 6’10 man and he’s afraid of a tiny lizard. “That’s okay. To be honest, some things like that freak me out too.” You smile. “I’m not a huge fan of snakes.” You smile, grasping the small lizard off your arm and cupping it in your hands. Your effort to comfort König after realizing you’d embarrassed him doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He appreciates it. “Will you go with me to take it outside?” You ask. “Course.” He picks up his shoes, sliding them on quickly. He had a pair of regular lace up shoes for around base. “What about your shoes?” He asks. “Oh I don’t need any.”

He laughs, opening the door for you. You step outside and he closes the door behind you. He lays his hand on the lower part of your back to guide you to an exit.

“Ah. Y/N. König. Nice to see you both this morning.” Your Captain smiles. “Hello.” You say. “Nice to see you’re feeling okay Y/N.” He smiles. You step toward König as he pats your shoulder. “Don’t forget breakfast is in an hour.” He says, walking away. “Thank you sir.” König nods to him. Pushing you along once more. He holds open the exit door for you, and you step outside. Luckily the outside had a concrete pathway. You make your way over to a bush, König’s jacket nearly brushing the ground but missing it by a few centimeters. The lizard leaps off of your hand and disappears into the base of the bush. You stand up, brushing yourself off and making your way back to König. He’d held the door open so that you didn’t get locked out. He places his hand over your back again, guiding you.

You were so gentle. Such a kind person. He found it hard to imagine that you were in the military, that people had died at your hands. But he realizes just like with the lizard, you’re protective. You’d protect your brothers and sisters in the military just as you would anyone else. Because that’s who you were. A kind, loving person. He wanted to rip Justin’s throat out for damaging that. König’s eyes watch as a door opens, two people escorting Justin out. Headed right toward the exit you and König had just come from. He has to think quickly, Justin’s eyes rising to meet your frame. He grasps hold of you, pulling you into the entrance of another door. He pushes you up against the wall. “Look at my eyes and don’t move them.” He says, covering your ears with his hands. König heard Justin putting up a fight as they remove him. Once he hears the door shut and lock, he sighs. Holding you there for a minute longer than he should.

Your eyes burn into him, cutting through his soul like a knife. The feelings he had for you, they were abnormal. He shouldn’t be feeling this way for you. Your eyes are beautiful, staring back at him. He loved the way you looked at him, such adoration in your eyes. He finally releases you. And you step out of the room, he walks along with you to the room you’d been staying in. When you step inside, you wrap your arms tightly around him. “Thank you. For being here for me.” You breath. “I’ve got you. No worries.” He breathes. He loves the way you feel against him. So comfortable. “Go wash your hands, Schaf. Breakfast is ready in 10.”

———

Your first week spent alongside König was the most peaceful time you’d spent on this military base so far. You enjoyed his company. He was always nice to you, always so gentle. His little pet names for you made you blush sometimes. Sheep, bird. Little names like that. You knew this time would come to and end, and you wanted to enjoy it while you had it. You and König talked a lot, well. You talked the most, he didn’t tell you much about himself. He had a couple stories from being deployed in different places, his time in Austria. But other than that, nothing else.

A couple times in his sleep, König’s mask had ridden up. You knew you shouldn’t look. You knew it was wrong, he wouldn’t like it if you’d seen him. But you couldn’t help it. You smiled, seeing a small vertical scar by his lip. It took you a little bit to understand what it was. And you realized, König was born with a cleft lip. The scar was hard to catch, and you might not have even noticed it if you hadn’t seen the way the left side of his cupids bow came to a perfect wave, but the other was a little further down, not coming to a perfect wave. His lips were a nice shade of pink and you liked it. Liked the way it looked. You thought it was cute.

König stirs awake to the sound of the sink running, and when he opens his eyes, he doesn’t feel his mask over his face and he panics. It’s the middle of the night, he can tell by the small window at the top of the wall behind him, the sun wasn’t shining through. He scrambles to fix his mask. A lamp was on in the corner of the room, you’d seen his face. There’s no way you hadn’t. You emerge from the bathroom. “So you seen my face.” He startles you slightly. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You breath. “It’s okay. Someone was bound to see it sooner or later.” You make your way over to his bed, lifting the blanket and weaseling yourself in next to him. “It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.” You lift your pinky. He frowns. You grasp his hand, opening up his pinky and linking it with yours. “I pinky promise.” He rolls his eyes. He can’t help but smile at your childish antics. “Why do you hide it?” You ask.

“Because.”

I’m insecure.

You see it in his eyes. “I think it’s cute. It makes you who you are.”

“My entire life, people were mean about it. Tormented me for looking different. My parents couldn’t afford the surgery until I was older. The other kids in my school always avoided me like the plague because I looked different.”

You reached up, and grasped the edge of his mask. Pulling it up and over his lips. He grasps it, pulling it off completely. He was fucking stunning. Handsome. Sharp jawline, perfect nose. His hair was cut into a fade, the top a little longer than the rest. “I think you look perfect.” He blushes, looking down. Hating that you could see it. “Thank you.” He smiles. His teeth are perfect, bright white. You place your hand in his cheek. Leaning into him. You press your lips right on the scar.

It lights a fire inside of König. Cheeks burning as bright as the sun as he grasps you as you try to pull away. He watches your face for any discomfort. There’s none there, just your eyes staring back at his. His travel from your lips back to your eyes. He leans in and presses his lips to yours, and you lean into him. Kissing him. Your lips move against his, and your kiss seems desperate. You grasp hold of his sweatshirt. He feels the way you grip him tightly and takes this as a sign you don’t mind him moving further. He lifts himself up, pushing your legs apart and laying between them. He holds himself up with his arms, lips moving against yours. The room feels hot immediately and he kicks the blanket off of himself. When he pulls away, he’s breathing heavily, eyes staring into yours. “Do you want me to stop, bird?” He breathes. You shake your head. “No. I don’t.”

He grasps the hem of his sweatshirt, pulling it off of himself. Revealing his perfectly toned body to you. “Fuck.” He breathes. “You’re so perfect.” He groans, mumbling to himself in German. You reach down, pushing your leggings down your legs quickly. He grinds his hips into yours, bucking them gently as he feels you against him. He does the same to his own sweatpants when he can’t take it anymore. Pushing them down his legs and discarding them somewhere in the room. He breathes hard, revealing himself to you. Your eyes widen as you reach between the both of you, grasping onto his shaft. He’s massive. You pump your hand up him, guiding him into you. He stretches you, your wetness making it easy for him to slide into you. He growls out something else in German, but it’s quick and you miss it. A moan slipping from your lips as he bottoms out inside of you. “If you want me to stop bird, just tell me.” He breathes heavily. Gritting his teeth at how tightly you wrapped around him.

The muscles in his neck flexed as he tipped his head back. Groaning out as he draws his hips back before thrusting back into you. The intense sounds of arousal between you as he moved through your folds were sinful. Raw passion flooded the room as he guides his hips into yours, over and over. His size is intense, pushing you further than you’ve ever pushed yourself before. König has to soothe you, brushing his fingertips over your skin, reassuring you. “Such a good girl for me, relax. Give yourself to me.” He breathes. He had to, so that you wouldn’t moan out. So you wouldn’t give you both away. Nobody needed to know that he was buried deep inside of you. You were his and his only, only he needed to know about the ways your body reacted to him, soaking his cock as he thrusted deep into you. You were his to love on, you trusted him and he trusted you. Your nails rake down his back and he loves it, loves that you’re losing control on him. He holds back, wanting to fuck into you like a caged animal but knows you aren’t quite ready for it.

But you will be.

A harsh gasp falls from your lips when he bucks his hips into yours and he clamps his hand over your mouth. You moan into him. He leans down into you, eyes burning into yours. “Shhh.. you have to stay quiet liebe.” He breathes. “It’s okay, fuck…” he whimpers. “Give yourself to me. Give it all to me, want to feel the way you cum around me.” He groans out. Your gaze softens and he sees you falling apart at the seams, in the best way possible. He could so easily destroy you, fuck you until you’re crying, begging him to stop. But he doesn’t. He’s gentle and the perfect kind of rough. How someone as big as him could be so gentle was beyond you. You found it hard to breathe in, heart thumping hard in your chest as he edged you closer and closer to the brink. You were minutes away from falling apart beneath him. You lean into him, pressing a gentle kiss to his upper lip, beads of sweat transferring from your face to his. The small moment of compassion, showing him that his flaws didn’t matter to you. It warms his heart. When you pull away, you look back up at him. Staring up into his eyes as he once again raises his hand to muffle the moans threatening to fall from your lips. His eyes are fixed on yours and he’s watching, wanting so badly to see the way you fall apart beneath him. You pant into his hand and he knows you’re close, right on the edge for him. He takes slow deep thrusts, knowing exactly what you want. Knowing exactly how to push you right up to the edge. That ledge of pure bliss you were clinging onto. Clawing at the edges. You were trying to hold on for him, desperately trying not to miss the way he’ll look when he fills you. He takes another couple slow thrusts into your spongy spot, and you lose control. His eyes are fixed on yours still, and he watches the way they roll back into your head, only the white of your eyes showing for a few seconds before screwing shut. He barely muffles the cry that leaves your lips and he rides out your high, a groan leaves his lips and he tries to steady himself but he can’t, fucking into you harder than intended. He rides out your high, and on that final thrust, his hips halt.

He plants his seed into you, connecting the both of you. Tying your souls together in the tightest, unbreakable knot. He spills back out of you, flooding you with his cum. He groans out, resting himself onto you, trying not to crush you. He climbs off of you, the both of you moaning as he slides himself out of you. He lies next to you, panting. He pulls you into his side. Breathing out.

“I’m sorry if you weren’t ready, or if I pressured you.” He breathes.

“Don’t be sorry, König. I was ready. I loved it.” You breath, smile on your lips. “I like you König. More.. than I thought I could ever like anyone.” You breath. “I like you too Y/N. After deployment… would you… would you like to go on a date sometime?”

“I’d be more offended if you hadn’t asked that.” You smile. He reaches his hand forward, entwining his fingers into yours, fingers dancing against yours as you lay next to each other, complete comfort, and finding safety within each other. Your relationship would turn into much more, and you’d both soon find out in time. But for now, you had nothing but time to stare at each other.

He was your protector, he saved you. He was gentle and caring.

You were gentle with him, in the places he was hard on himself. You softened him where he needed it. You kissed his scar, and didn’t make him feel any different for it. You treated him the same.

He loved every minute he’d spend with you, and couldn’t wait for so many more.

[zarasu]

I've been awfully distracted from conquer by writing on my abyss demon!sy bingyuan au. Have a snippet! Binghe and Shen Yuan reunite at Huan Hua.

---

His first reaction to seeing Shen Yuan at Huan Hua Palace was rage, thinly veiling fear.

Shen Yuan was the seduction he had fled from, finally catching back up to him. He was the blissful oasis, coming to distract him from his goals. He was the promise of comfort and belonging, hovering at the edge of everything happening to make Binghe lose sight of what was important.

There he was, bowing before the Old Palace Master, this unassuming, soft little man. There was no sign, now, of his dark mana that used to surround him at all times, no playful tendrils curling around Binghe's ankles, no extra mouths, eyes or sharp teeth.

He looked like a normal, harmless young cultivator and Binghe wondered how he had managed to gain control of his nature so quickly, when control seemed to be far away just a year and a half ago.

The only thing that didn't seem to have changed was how quickly Shen Yuan sensed his presence.

Black eyes found him under the cover of long eyelashes and Binghe hated how quickly his body sprung to attention in response, awareness coursing through him like crackling electricity.

He wondered if Shen Yuan knew how he commanded his body, even after all this time.

Sensing his distraction, the Old Palace Master followed Shen Yuan's glance until he saw Binghe standing at the entrance.

"Ah, Binghe," he called, intentionally informal, possessive indulgence in his eyes. He reached out, beckoning, and Binghe came closer until the Old Palace Master could put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

With close interest, Binghe watched as Shen Yuan's hand twitched at his side.

He got his first good look at the scene now. Shen Yuan was in simple cultivator's robes and there was a large, dead beast laid at the palace master's feet. A winged lioness. A rare catch, outside of the abyss, and a deadly one too. Many cultivators would naively go for the males, desiring their golden mane, and disregarding the infinitely more dangerous female lions. That Shen Yuan had not only managed to kill one but came out of the fight seemingly completely unharmed spoke of his power and competence.

And the Old Palace Master knew it.

Slowly, Binghe started to understand what was happening before him. Shen Yuan was trying to get into Huan Hua. He was trying to bait the Old Palace Master into keeping him here and, going by the greedy shine in the old man's eyes, it was working.

"Binghe," Shen Yuan said then, unexpectedly. "It's good to see you well."

He shook off his momentary surprise. Binghe wasn't sure why he had thought they would pretend not to know each other, but obviously Shen Yuan had had other plans.

Before he could reply, the Old Palace Master interjected. "Master Shen knows our Binghe?"

Shen Yuan's face grew a little stiff, but Binghe finally found his voice. "Shen Yuan. I didn't expect to see you here." There was a moment of silence before he added: "I'm glad to see you too."

Where had his eloquency gone? He felt like a bumbling youth, all talk and nothing behind it. He quickly turned to the Old Palace Master. "We met on my travels. Shen Yuan saved me from a situation that would have otherwise ended very badly for me. I owe him my life."

Maybe Shen Yuan hadn't been so sure of his welcome after all, going by the way his stiff expression was replaced by surprised pleasure. "Anyone would have done what I did."

Binghe felt the sudden, desperate urge to laugh.

"Well, any friend of Binghe's is a friend of Huan Hua," the Old Palace Master said. "Of course, Master Shen is welcome to stay for as long as it pleases him." He looked like he had just added two profitable, fat cows to his stables instead of inviting two wolves into his flock of sheep.

Shen Yuan bowed, his eyes flicking away from where the Old Palace Master still had his hand on Binghe's arm. "This one is grateful for the palace master's generosity."

"I will have a servant take care of your gift so that we can display the hide soon. Come, Shen Yuan, I'm sure we can find a room for you." He put his other hand on Shen Yuan's shoulder and pulled both of them to the door, deeper into the palace.

Hidden by the way they were walking ahead of the palace master, Shen Yuan turned his face to Binghe just the slightest bit. As soon as their eyes met, Shen Yuan's mouth curled up into a sly fox's smile.

[scarletgray]

Soukoku fic 5+1 Things

sskk if you squint

(this is my first fic ever 😭 i dont have a title for this so suggestions are welcome!)

5. Comfort

The sheep took good care of him. They taught him many things. They taught him how to read and write. They told him about different types of food. How to talk to people. How to play rock, paper, scissors and how to shoot a gun. They were the first people in his life whatever miserable way it started. The sheep would always be a part of him and he would carry them with him no matter where he went or who he was. But the most important thing they taught him, he thinks, is how to comfort someone when they're upset.

He remembers the day a stray cat Yuan had picked up and brought back died. It had upset Chuuya greatly too. But he had known it would happen. The small, dirty white kitten they couldn't take care of when they could barely take care of themselves was bound to die. He remembers yuan sobbing in the corner of their rackety hideout. She wouldn't eat for days. Chuuya was starting to panic. So he did what he does best. He went up to her and told her exactly what was on his mind.

"Hey..." he said, cringing at the sorry attempt of a soft voice.

"Hey listen I know you're upset but will you please stop crying and eat something. You'll get sick." he said, mouth twisting downwards.

Yuan had stopped crying then, looking up at him with her tear streamed face. Chuuya really wished he could take her pain away.

"Is this your way of comforting me?" she asked incredulously.

Comfort? He hadn't known what she meant. He didn't know how else to say it. He had no other way of showing his concern.

After seeing the confused look on his face she let out a little laugh. Chuuya jumped at the sound.

"You look like a puppy tilting your head like that" she smiled, still teary eyed.

Chuuya scowled at that, though secretly happy she was smiling again.

"What else was I s'posed to say?" he mumbled, kicking at the ground lightly.

Yuan smiled at him. It was a sad smile. And then Chuuya thinks that for the rest of his life, he'll never forget the look on Yuan's face and what she said next.

"You don't have to say anything." she had said.

Then she stood up and walked towards him. Gently, she started pulling his hands out of his pockets. He tensed, but let her guide his arms around her abdomen and then slowly wrapped her arms around him too.

"What are you doing?" he asked, blushing at the proximity. The touch of another human felt foreign to him, even after so many years with the sheep.

"This is called a hug." she giggled, "It's how you comfort someone when they're sad."

"Oh." he mumbled, warmth spreading through his chest. "But I'm supposed to be comforting you?"

She hugged him harder. Urging him to tighten his arms around her too. He felt as if he was floating. He looked down to see if he accidentally activated his ability but was met with the sight of yuan's feet on the ground. Huh.

"I know chuuya is sad too." She whispered quietly. "Doesn't this make you feel better?"

Chuuya was taken aback. Had he been sad the kitten had died? He thought of it now, and how adorable it had been. How the tiny mewing had all the kids laughing. How everyone had still been fighting over a name for it when it fell ill. Yes. He was sad too. He just didn't express it as strongly as Yuan did.

"Yeah. Yeah it does. I'm sorry Yuan." he said, burying his face in her pink hair. He felt a prickling sensation in his eyes. Is this how it felt to be held? Chuuya never wanted to let go.

She backed away from him first.

"Next time you want to comfort someone and you don't know what to say, hug them. It will make them feel better."

And just like that Chuuya was left with a life lesson. When someone is sad you should give them a hug.

4. Fever

Chuuya wasn't sick.

He sneezed. Again. And then three more times.

Okay maybe he was sick. How could he have let this happen? He had rarely ever gotten sick back when he was living in the streets with the sheep. He was always healthy and at the top of his game. Was the mafia making him too lazy? He rarely did stuff on his own now that he had subordinates kissing the ground he walked on. Seriously, what was up with that? Ane-san said it's because they respect him and look up to him. Dazai said it's just because he's young and an easy mark to climb ranks with. He won't believe anything that the bastard tells him, but he can't quite agree with Ane-san either. Why would anyone wanna stay by his side? He winced, all that thinking was making his head hurt.

Speaking of Ane-san, he was walking down the hallway to her office when suddenly his head started spinning and his vision blurred. He quickly jerked his hand out grabbing the wall to keep his balance. The pain doubled, it was like someone was drumming a hammer against his skull. His eyes hurt.

“Chuuya?”

Oh shit. Ane-san was standing right in front of him. When did she get here? Chuuya looked up at her, squinting. He was met with the sight of her worried face.

“Lad are you alright?” She asked, frowning.

“Uh...” Chuuya couldn't form a coherent sentence. He couldn't move his body the way he wanted to. “Um…” he mumbled, unable to say anything else.

Kouyou’s face mellowed out. She bent forward lifting his face up with one hand and tilting his hat back with the other before softly pressing her lips against his forehead.

Chuuya froze. What was she doing? He tried to take a deep breath that ended up with him inhaling her scent. She smelled sweet, like green tea and flowers. All of a sudden, he started to feel really sleepy. Chuuya felt his legs give out, just before he could eat the floor, Kouyou pulled him into her arms.

“You have a fever lad” she stated, clicking her tongue.

Fever? Oh right. He was sick.

“Sorry” he mumbled against her yukata, feeling oddly guilty for being this weak.

“Nonsense. Nothing to apologize for child,” She replied, slowly walking him towards her office.

She laid him down on the couch as soon as they entered. Chuuya closed his eyes. He could hear Kouyou moving around. The sound of clinking metal from a kettle and the click of a tea cup in a saucer slowly lulled him off to sleep…

“Lad…” said a faraway voice.

Chuuya woke up with a jolt and a hand on his shoulder gently pulling him upright. It felt like he had been asleep for eternity. He groggily opened his eyes. Ane-san was standing in front of him with a tea cup in her hand. She passed it to him.

“Drink this,” she said, patting his shoulder.

“Thank you” he mumbled. Bringing the cup to his lips and drinking the warm concoction. He had no idea what it was but it smelled soothing and immediately dulled the ache in his bones.

He continued taking small sips until he finished the drink. Kouyou took the cup out of his hands, putting it down somewhere behind her before turning back around and pressing her lips against his forehead. There. She did it again.

“You're still warm,” she hummed.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, still drowsy and confused. Why did she keep giving him forehead kisses?

Kouyou gave him a small smile.

“I'm checking your temperature, don't you know this is the best way to check?”

No. Chuuya did not know. He thought everyone checked it with their hand? He frowned, he still didn't know a lot of things huh.

He heard a laugh. He looked up, baffled. Did Ane-san just laugh?

Kouyou was hiding her face behind her fan but Chuuya could see the mirth in her eyes.

“You are so cute.” She said, pinching his cheek.

“What was that for?” Chuuya squawked, embarrassment making his cheeks heat up.

“Nothing nothing” she tutted, patting his shoulder again. “Go home lad, and get some rest.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go home, that's an order. And don't come back until your fever is gone. I'll be coming in to check every day.”

“You don't have to do that” he muttered, “Okay okay fine I'll rest,” he said childishly. He wasn't used to taking breaks.

He thanked Ane-san again, grabbing his hat from the couch and turning to leave. Being sick was so troublesome. But at least he got something good out of it.

Now he knows how to check someone for a fever.

3. Kiss it better

Dazai was having a bad day.

Which wasn't unusual. But today was an exceptionally bad day. He had been forced to go on another annoying mission by Mori-san that resulted in him getting stabbed in his side. It hurt. Dazai hated pain.

He sighed, wincing when the movement hurt his side even more. What else did he expect from useless subordinates who never carry his plans out correctly. It was times like this that he missed Chuuya. He never gets as much as a scratch when he has Chuuya guarding him like the protective dog that he is. Dazai started grinning to himself. Maybe he'll go check on Chuuya today. And annoy him so much he'll start his high pitched squeaking that's supposed to sound threatening. Ah yes, that'll distract him from the excruciating pain he was pretending to ignore.

Dazai started daydreaming about what kind of insults he'll use on the slug today, imagining Chuuya’s reaction to every single one. He zoned out a little too much and bumped into something tiny.

“Chuuya!!” he beamed, looking down knowing who it was immediately. There was only one person in the world who was so small.

Chuuya's unimpressed face was staring back at him.

“Watch where you're going bastard,” Chuuya snarled, sidestepping him and heading towards wherever he was trying to go. Now that just won't do, Dazai thought to himself.

“Apologies, I didn't see you there, you see I don't have a microscope with me, my mistake!” Dazai said cheekily and waited.

“What the fuck did you just say?!?!” Chuuya screeched, turning around and grabbing his collar. “I'm not that small shithead!”

There it was. Dazai started giggling. Chuuya's reaction never failed to amuse him.

“It's not my fault Chuuya is so tiny I can't see him,” Dazai jeered.

“Shut the fuck up I don't have time for this” Chuuya shoved him, hard.

Dazai doubled over wheezing. Okay maybe making the chibi angry wasn't such a good idea. Chuuya had pushed him exactly where he had gotten stabbed. Which, by the way, really, really, hurt. He could feel the blood starting to soak his bandages. Ugh he'd just wrapped them up too.

“Oi Dazai?” Chuuya's worried voice pulled him out of his internal grumbling.

Dazai peered up at him. Chuuya's worried face was really cute. Yes that's right. Dazai Osamu thought The Gravity Manipulator, Most Dangerous Ability User, and former King of the Sheep Nakahara Chuuya was very, very cute.

Dazai had long accepted the fact that he liked Chuuya. From the moment he saw him, buried in rubble, and a boot planted on his chest. He had felt something in his hollow heart. Chuuya made him feel human. Made whatever small, cold heart of his burn with affection. Dazai could not escape it, nor did he want to. He let it consume him, he drowned in it. Being with Chuuya was like being on fire. He'd never admit it of course, but he was sure it was quite obvious. However, the mafia was no place for love. So he'd keep those feelings to himself. Besides, if he'd had to take a guess, from the look on Chuuya's face right now, he'd say the slug might have a thing or two for him too.

“Shit you're bleeding.” said Chuuya, grabbing him and pulling him close. “Why the fuck didn't you say anything idiot”

“I didn't think Chuuya would hit me,” he whined.

“You asked for it, asshole” Chuuya grumbled.

“Chuuya's mean” Dazai pouted, “I'm bleeding because of Chuuya and he's bullying me”

“You're the bully” he retorted, and then without warning, lifted Dazai into his arms bridal style.

“Wha- What are you doing!? Stupid slug put me down!” Dazai yelped. He could feel his cheeks warming up. Stupid chibikko, how dare he manhandle dazai when he's so much bigger than him!

“I will,” Chuuya nodded, “In the infirmary.”

“Hatrack” he taunted, putting his arms around Chuuya's neck in a futile attempt to strangle him. Chuuya kept walking infuriatingly unaffected.

“Mackerel”

“Petite Mafia”

“Waste of bandages”

“Double black small”

“LAY OFF OF MY SIZE JACKASS I'M 17 I'M STILL GROWING!!”

“That's what Chuuya said when we were 15 and yet you didn't grow an inch.”

“I did and you know it!”

Their banter was cut short when they arrived at the infirmary. Chuuya unceremoniously dropping him on one of the beds.

“Ouch! Chuuya's such a brute!” Dazai complained.

“Hold still shitty Dazai,” Chuuya responded.

Chuuya started pulling his coat back and lifting his shirt, inspecting the blood soaked bandages.

“I'm taking these off.” he said and then looked at Dazai as if waiting for his permission. Ah, his dog really was so cute.

Dazai didn't say anything, leaning back on his arms, giving Chuuya the space to unwind the bandages. Chuuya nodded in silent understanding, and softly began to unwrap the blood stained strips, careful not to agitate the wound. Dazai knew he felt guilty for opening the wound, and took it as his responsibility to patch it up again. That's just who Chuuya was. A boy with a heart too big for his tiny body. It was one of things he loved about him.

Chuuya worked in silence. With full focus, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. Dazai watched him working so seriously, wrapping the bandages like his life depended on it, and he couldn't help a little chuckle that escaped him.

“The fuck are you laughing about” Chuuya grunted.

“Nothing.” said Dazai tilting his head to the side with a smile as he started humming a tune and kicking his feet, feeling content.

Chuuya raised a brow. “Do you have a fever?” he asked, then out of the blue, pressed his lips against Dazai's forehead.

What. the. hell.

Dazai shrieked. Why was Chuuya suddenly kissing him!?!? Chuuya's lips were soft and warm against his skin. The touch burning his entire face. He could feel the blood rushing up to his head. He started feeling faint. Oh maybe that was the blood loss.

“What are you doing?!?” Dazai squeaked.

Chuuya looked at him confused, “Checking your temperature obviously? You're burning up dumbass.”

“And that's how you check!?”

“Duh. Ane-san told me it's the best way.” Chuuya stated like it was common sense.

“And you believed her?”

“Yes…?” Chuuya said slowly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world .

Now because Dazai is a genius it took him only 3 seconds to figure out what was going on. Then he grinned maniacally.

“I see,” he said, “Chuuya's really stupid.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Chuuya growled, then suddenly started smiling, “What you didn't know that huh? I wouldn't expect you to.” he stated smugly.

“Yes yes I didn't,” Dazai said. Chuuya started pulling away from him. Yeah no, Dazai just could not let this opportunity go to waste.

“Wait, where are you going? Aren't you gonna kiss it better?” he cooed, innocently.

“What the fuck are you on about now”

Dazai was trying to hold it in, he really was.

“Doesn't Chuuya know you're supposed to kiss it better?” He said, “It hurts and it's Chuuya's fault!”

“What kinda fucking rule is that?” Chuuya asked incredulously.

“Of course Chuuya doesn't know,” he sighed dramatically, “When your partner gets hurt you're supposed to kiss them better.”

“No?” Chuuya didn't know anything about this!

“I understand,” he nodded, trying not to laugh out loud, “It's only natural Chuuya doesn't know about this after all he's just a teeny tiny dog with an even tinier brain-”

He was cut off as Chuuya swooped down and kissed his cheek soundly, exhaling softly against his face before pulling back.

Dazai exe. has stopped working.

Chuuya was staring at him, cheeks furiously red and frowning cutely. “Like that?”

Dazai couldn't take it anymore. He burst out laughing, doubling over, giggles racking his frame. Tears started gathering in the corner of his eyes.

“The- The wound! N-Not my face!” he wheezed between the laughter.

He didn't think Chuuya could blush any harder but he was proven wrong as Chuuya's entire face turned red. Chuuya started shaking with anger or embarrassment he couldn't tell but it was a sight to see.

“You lying piece of shit!!” Chuuya screamed and started shaking him back and forth while trying to strangle him.

“Wait! Wait! I wasn't lying,” Dazai said, wiping the corner of his eyes, “It's the truth, it doesn't hurt anymore,” And it was the truth. The wound didn't hurt one bit. He felt no pain at all. His insides were all giddy. Chuuya really was the best medicine.

“Whatever, fuck you Dazai,” Chuuya huffed, “Now go home and heal properly and stay the fuck out of my way.”

“Chibi wait,”

“Fucking what.”

“You know you're not supposed to do this with anyone else right? Only your partner.” Dazai had to make sure Chuuya wouldn't go around kissing everyone's wounds better. He wouldn't put it past him. He couldn't believe how gullible the slug was!

“I know that!” Chuuya yelled, slamming the door on the way out.

Dazai sat there for a long time, daydreaming about all the ways he could get hurt in missions and all the kisses that would be his reward.

2. Hold hands

Chuuya knocked on the double doors two times before letting himself in the boss's office. He barely set a foot in before placing a hand on his hat and ducking to dodge the flying shoe that whizzed past his head.

“Stupid Rintarou, I hate you!”

Chuuya sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

“Boss, I'm here.” Chuuya spoke, his voice getting ignored.

“You always do this! I said I wanna go eat sweets. I don't want to go shopping for stupid clothes!” Elise cried, flapping her arms around.

“But Elise-chan, just one store please, I promise we'll go for sweets after~” Mori whined pathetically. Chuuya coughed, loudly.

“Oh Chuuya-kun you're here,” Mori said, immediately reverting to a serious demeanor.

“Yes boss.”

“Chuuya!” Elise noticed him now as well. “I'll just go with him.”

Oh no.

“But Elise-chan I called Chuuya here today for an important job.”

“I don't care, I want to go with Chuuya now!” She declared.

“But-”

“Shut up Rintarou! I'm going with Chuuya,” She turned towards him pleading, “You'll take me won't you Chuuya?”

“Ummm” He looked at the boss, who seemed conflicted. Mori glanced at Elise from the corner of his eye. She stuck her tongue out at him. Eventually Mori sighed and reclined against his chair.

“I guess it can't be helped,” he said, “Please take care of her for the day Chuuya-kun.”

Chuuya sighed internally. “As you wish,” he answered, bowing down.

“Yay!!” Elise cheered, running up to his side, “Let's go” she demanded, grabbing his coat and pulling him towards the doors.

___________

The sky was clear, a gentle breeze swaying through Yokohama city. Well, at least it was a nice day out, Chuuya thought to himself. Elise was skipping beside him, arms swinging and humming a melody to herself.

They were walking towards the shop Elise wanted to try out when they saw a huge crowd in the way. Chuuya paused. Even though he had forgone his hat and cloak, he could still be recognized. If an enemy identified them there'd be trouble. He turned towards Elise.

“Alright stay close, let's be careful just in case.”

Elise simply held her hand out to him.

“What?” he said

She rolled her eyes, “Hold my hand, you're always supposed to hold hands when going through a crowd.”

He didn't know that. Damn it! He still had a lot to learn.

“Of course,” he said, taking her hand and pushing through the crowd. As he was walking he noticed two girls, hands clasped together and they made their way through. Chuuya had thought it was just for kids but apparently not. There were two other friends, one holding on to the sleeve of the other. It made sense to hold hands so they wouldn't lose each other. It was safer too.

He spent the entire day buying sweets for Elise. He could have sworn they went to every dessert store in the city. It ended up being a relaxing but tiring day for him. When he fell into his bed that evening he thought of all the people that he saw holding hands today. When he learned something new he always noticed it everywhere around him.

You're supposed to hold hands in crowded areas huh.

1. Your one and only

Chuuya wanted to go home.

He'd been gone for too long. He'd been sent abroad for a mission direct orders from the boss. He didn't think it would take that long but he'd been here for months. Waking up in France with a beautiful view outside his window was nice enough but he missed Yokohama. He missed Ane-san. Heck he even missed that shitty Dazai. And that was saying something. He couldn't stop the longing he felt increase with every passing day. He missed home.

He was looking forward to going back. Any day now, he'd get a call from the boss telling him to return. Suddenly someone slammed the door of his hotel room open. A subordinate stood there panting. “Chuuya-san! We've received orders to return to Yokohama immediately!”

Chuuya frowned, feeling uneasy. Why didn't the Boss or Ane-san call him? Immediately? Not that he wasn't happy to return; it just felt so sudden.

“Get the plane ready, we'll leave in 3 hours.”

“Yes sir” he bowed before running back out.

Chuuya sat back down on the chair and looked out the window. He'd better start packing. He couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong but at the same time he felt relieved. He was finally going back home.

___________

Chuuya landed in Yokohama at 1:45 A.M. He walked out of the airport slowly. He had been tense the whole flight. He took a deep breath. The air smelt like the sea and city dust. He allowed himself to relax a little.

He started thinking about what he'd want to do first. He could sleep for 2 days straight. Except he wouldn't even get 8 hours of rest before Dazai would barge into his apartment to raid his fridge and start whining about how annoying Akutagawa is. He snorted at the thought. Even after all his complaints and harsh words Chuuya knew he was fond of the kid. He frowned as his thoughts took a dark turn. What if that Bastard messed up his wine collection?!? Or put slime in all of his jacket pockets?! He shuddered, fearing for his wardrobe. He wanted to go to his apartment immediately.

His thoughts were interrupted by a beep and a buzzing sensation in his pocket. He pulled out his phone to see an incoming call from an unknown number. Weird. He answered the call, bringing it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

There was no answer. He could hear someone breathing on the other side. He waited.

“Oi,'' he tried again. Still nothing. Damn scam callers. Just as he was about to end the call he heard a faint whisper.

“Chuuya.”

Chuuya pressed the phone back to his ear recognizing the voice instantly, “Dazai? Why didn't you answer shithead?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai repeated softly. Why did he sound like that?

“Oi what's wrong?” Chuuya frowned. He was starting to get worried. Dazai sounded so tired.

“Does Chuuya know you only have one partner for the rest of your life?” Dazai said suddenly.

What? Where did that come from? No whiny annoying greetings? No wailing about how he hoped the plane crashed on the way here? Did Dazai even know he was back? “What do you mean shitty Dazai?”

“Like Verlaine and Randou-san,” Dazai clarified, as if that made this bizarre conversation make any more sense, “Even after they betrayed each other and thought the other died, they still call themselves partners.”

That was true. Even now that Randou-san was gone, Aniki still always spoke so fondly about him. Chuuya saw the look on Verlaine's face when he talked about him, and he could see how miserably he missed his partner. And he had remembered the way Randou-san had fought valiantly against him. He knew they had something special between them. Something not even death could take away.

“Yeah so? What of it?”

“Chuuya will be mine forever right?”

Now Chuuya was really started to freak out. He tried to tell himself it meant nothing, and that this was just another one of Dazai's shenanigans.

“What did I do to deserve such a shitty partner for life?” he sighed teasingly.

He heard Dazai suck in a breath as if he'd taken a punch to the gut. Then he heard a small laugh alongside, “Too bad, Chuuya's stuck with me forever.”

“Curse my luck,” he clicked his tongue, but the worry was starting to build up and he started flexing his hands in his gloves trying to calm down. Before he could ask what the fuck was going on Dazai's voice crackled through the phone.

“Goodbye Chuuya.” Dazai breathed.

Goodbye? Why did Dazai sound like he was dying? Why wasn't anyone telling Chuuya anything?!?

“Wait-”

The phone started beeping signaling the call had ended. Chuuya felt frustration take a hold of him. He smashed the buttons of his phone calling back on the number.

“The number you have dialed does not exist please try again later.” the machine replied automatically.

“Fuck!” Chuuya was about to try again when he received a message that made the blood freeze in his veins.

Dazai Osamu has turned traitor to the Port Mafia

He shook his head. No it couldn't be. He was just talking with the bastard for heaven's sake! He needed answers. He left his luggage right there as he activated his ability and shot towards Port Mafia Headquarters in a blur of black and red. He landed with a crash outside within seconds. A few guards stationed outside jumped before they recognized him and opened the doors.

Chuuya took the elevator up to the top floor. He didn't knock. He slammed the doors open and entered to the sight of Mori and Kouyou conversing quietly.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked as calmly as he could.

Kouyou replied, “Dazai has been missing for 2 weeks. We've ascertained that he has betrayed the Port Mafia.”

“Dazai?” Chuuya raised a brow. “Dazai Osamu youngest Port Mafia executive? That's hilarious.”

Kouyou shook her head, “It's true.”

Mori turned his eerie gaze towards him, “Chuuya-kun you know Dazai-kun best, you are his partner after all, do you have any idea where he could be hiding?”

Chuuya thought of the stupid suicidal bastard. Idiot enough to betray the Port Mafia. Yes he knew where he was. Chuuya always did. Like the Boss said, he was his partner.

“Chuuya will be mine forever right?” Stupid fucking asshole. Chuuya would kill him the next time he saw him.

“No Boss,” he replied. Then laughed “So that bastard left huh? Good riddance.” he turned to leave. “If you'll excuse me boss I'm a little tired from running here like a dog and I left my stuff at the airport, I'd like to go home with your permission.”

“Of course, of course take the day off tomorrow too, oh and Chuuya-kun?”

He looked back, “Yes?”

“Kouyou here tried to call you as soon as you landed but your number was busy.” Mori said accusingly, gaze so sharp Chuuya felt it could cut him.

“Scam.” Chuuya said without a thought. Mori looked like he didn't believe him. Chuuya held his gaze.

“Alright, you're free to go,” Mori said, still staring at Chuuya as if he could taste the lie.

He bent his head respectfully, leaving the room.

___________

Chuuya reached home at around 3 am, dropping his luggage on the floor and face planting on the couch. He was exhausted, yet he couldn't bring himself to sleep. He sighed, getting up and grabbing his keys as he left the building, heading towards the parking lot. His mind was reeling with a million questions. Why did Dazai leave? Exactly what had happened while Chuuya was gone? A late drive would calm him down.

Chuuya hit the unlock button on his key when his car exploded with a flash and an ear cracking boom, the force making his body fly backwards. He immediately used his ability to land safely, but let himself fall down as soon as his feet hit the ground.

Fuck it he should've stayed in France.

+1

Atsushi sat in his chair patiently waiting for the Port Mafia representative to show up. After fighting together to save Yokohama for years, the relationship between the Port Mafia and the Agency were never better. What had started with a simple truce had turned into a trusting partnership with members often coming together for joint missions. He didn't know who was coming in today. He hoped it wasn't Akutagawa.

Someone knocked on the door and Atsushi jumped up, opening the door at once. Chuuya was standing on the other side.

“Ah good morning Chuuya-san,” he said.

Chuuya lifted a brow, smirking he said, “You sound disappointed. Were you expecting someone else?”

“No!” Atsushi yelped, blushing. Really? Was it that obvious? “I wasn't expecting Akutagawa!” Atsushi defended himself.

“I never said who.”

“Oh.” Atsushi wanted to crawl into a hole.

Chuuya chuckled, “Don't worry kid, I think he wanted to be here too. He told me to say hi or I think it went something like “I'll kill you next time fool” I can't be too sure.”

“Chuuya!” Dazai yelled excitedly from somewhere behind him.

Atsushi saw Chuuya’s face turn to a look of disgust faster than anything. It was incredible really. Dazai pulled up to his side smiling mischievously.

“Why hello there chibi I almost didn't see you,” Oh dear, here we go again. “Say, did the slug get smaller?” Dazai cooed sweetly.

A vein twitched on Chuuya's forehead.

“I'm not in the mood for your games today asshole.” Chuuya sneered, shoving past him to hand some papers to Kunikida, nodding in greeting.

Dazai pouted, “Chibi is no fun.”

Atsushi shook his head fondly, silently glad that Chuuya-san decided to act like the bigger person today and not smash a chair over Dazai-san's head. That would've disturbed Kyouka-chan. Atsushi frowned, eyes going to where she was resting on the couch. She had come in with him today despite feeling sluggish. Atsushi felt ashamed for not having realized she was sick. Yosano had given her a pill and banned her to the couch. Chuuya seemed to have noticed her there as he walked towards her.

“What’s wrong Kyouka-chan?” he inquired, gently patting her head.

Kyouka slowly opened her eyes, “Chuuya-nii?” she mumbled.

“She's sick,” Dazai answered for her, walking towards them, “Little Kyouka-chan doesn't know when to rest hmm? Just like a certain chibi.”

“Fuck off,” Chuuya muttered and then bent down, softly pushing her bangs out of the way and pressing his mouth to her forehead. Atsushi's jaw dropped while Kyouka just leaned forward, completely unaffected.

He couldn't help himself, “Chuuya-san! what are you doing??” he whisper screamed.

Chuuya looked at him unimpressed, “Checking her for a fever obviously,” he deadpanned “She's alright thankfully.”

“That's right Atsushi-kun don't you know that's the best way to check?” Dazai-san added, smiling impishly.

It's really not. Atsushi wanted to counter but when he saw the devilish sparkle in Dazai-san’s eyes, he told himself not to question it.

Chuuya gave Kyouka a brotherly headbutt before walking towards Atsushi. “Guess it's just you and me then huh.” he said.

Right. Since Atsushi and Kyouka were the ones assigned to the mission today. It would be Atsushi's first time on a mission alone with Chuuya. He was kind of nervous. Dazai-san, perceptive as ever, noticed this.

“I can come along,” Dazai offered cheerfully.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Chuuya replied with zero hesitation, “The kid and I can handle it we don't need your useless ass getting in the way.”

“But Kyouka-chan was supposed to go with you, it's a three person mission!” Dazai whined.

“Combat abilities are required and you're a weak piece of shit,” Chuuya stated mercilessly “Face it mackerel we're better off without you.”

“Not true and you know it, my strategies will make it easier to finish the job.”

Chuuya couldn't argue with that. He settled for glaring at him instead. Atsushi watched Dazai stare Chuuya down with a smug smirk. Atsushi knew that they were known as the most fearsome duo in all of Japan. He could imagine Akutagawa ranting about how lucky he was to go on a mission with The Double Black.

Chuuya sighed. He looked like he was about to give in when Kenji walked in the room.

“Oh hello Chuuya-san!”

At the sound of Kenji's voice, Chuuya visibly brightened up, turning away from Dazai.

“Hey kid.” he smiled going over to greet Kenji. The mafioso clearly had a favorite here at the agency. Well, Kenji was everyone's favorite.

“What were you guys talking about?” Kenji asked.

Chuuya sighed, pointing towards Dazai “This idiot wants to go with us on the mission instead of Kyouka-chan.”

“Chibi is the idiot,” Dazai sniffed.

“Ah that mission” Kenji nodded.

Recently a group of strong ability users started terrorizing Yokohama. Atsushi thought it was a dumb move since the city was under both the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency's protection. No one stood a chance. Yet they were doing some significant damage and were able to take down some of the Mafia members. Hence, the decision to send the higher ups on a joint mission.

“I think it's alright since Kyouka-chan was supposed to go with you guys,” Kenji piped up, “Besides Dazai-san is actually super smart so he'll be helpful!”

“How right you are Kenji-kun!” Dazai beamed shoving Chuuya aside to pat him on the head, “Finally someone who appreciates me.” Dazai shook his head in mock despair.

“Fucking fine whatever lets go,” Chuuya said, sending a glare in Dazai's direction, “And if you get it the way I'm gonna kill you.”

“Please,” Dazai scoffed, “It's going to be a piece of cake.”

___________

It was a disaster.

“I'm going to fucking kill you.” Chuuya hissed, while pressing down on the gaping wound on Dazai's stomach.

Meanwhile, Atsushi was trying not to have a panic attack. Dazai-san had taken a bad hit. He takes it back. These people were not foolish. They were insanely strong. A dozen ability users, two of them with long range attacks through inanimate objects somewhat like Chuuya's ability, and Dazai was unable to nullify the attack. A huge shard of metal struck him straight in the gut while Chuuya had been too busy guarding their backs. Atsushi hated himself at that moment. He should've been fast enough to stop it. He should've protected Dazai. All that training just for-

Dazai let out a small giggle, making Atsushi's mind go blank.

“Are you fucking laughing right now?” Chuuya asked furiously, “Is this fucking funny?”

“It's kind of funny,” Dazai coughed wetly, blood spilling from his lips. A series of gunshots started hitting the pillar they had taken cover behind. Chuuya let out a string of curse words.

“Chuuya I have to tell you something before I die.” Dazai wheezed out.

“Shut the fuck up.” Chuuya replied with a voice as calm as a raging storm.

“Don't die Dazai-san!” Atsushi cried. He was so close to bawling. He couldn't fathom Dazai-san just dying like this.

“He's not dying you idiot,” Chuuya slapped the back of his head.

“Don't be mean to Atsushi-kun!” Dazai coughed out with another spurt of blood.

“I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

Atsushi started feeling hysterical. What the fuck was going on here.

“Kid!” Chuuya yelled, pulling Atsushi out of his mind, tugging him with one hand with the rest of his body still protectively curled over Dazai, “Fucking focus!”

“I'm sor-”

“Fuck that, hold on to this waste of bandages,” Chuuya cut off with a curse as another bang sounded behind them, shaking the ground, “I'm going to kill every single one of those fuckers.” Chuuya whispered darkly.

Dazai let out another wheeze. It sounded a lot like the word “hot” but Atsushi is going to ignore that.

Chuuya cradled Dazai in his arms before passing him to Atsushi, “Hurts,” Dazai let out in a small voice.

For a second Chuuya's eyes softened and his face turned so loving Atsushi wanted to close his eyes. Then Chuuya bent down close to Dazai's face, rubbing their foreheads together before whispering, ever so sweetly, “If you die, I'm going to gut you like a fish.” Then he let go of Dazai and stepped out behind the pillar, glowing red with his ability.

Atsushi broke out in cold sweat as he heard bones crunching, and violent screams coming from the enemies that got to experience the rage of Nakahara Chuuya.

Dazai sighed lovingly in Atsushi's arms.

Atsushi never wanted to work with them again.

___________

The next day, Atsushi was back at the Agency glad that the fiasco was over. It turns out they didn't really need Atsushi or Dazai. They didn't need anyone actually. Chuuya was enough to absolutely demolish any enemy that dared to threaten the peace in Yokohama.

He walked towards Yosano’s office, wanting to check in on Dazai. He had taken a fatal blow but thanks to Chuuya completely obliterating the enemy in seconds, they'd made it safely back in time for Dazai to get treated. As he got closer to the door he heard yelling. Oh right. Chuuya had not left Dazai's side since then. It was the next day though. Does that mean he'd slept over? Atsushi once again decided not to think about this. He knocked on the door twice before stepping in.

“Umm,” Atsushi tried, “I brought some medicine.”

“Ouch! Ouch! Chuuya it hurts!!”

“It wouldn't hurt if you stopped trying to move you stupid shit!”

“Chuuya's being mean!”

“Chuuya will fucking kill you if you don't shut up and lay back down!”

Dazai pouted. Watering his eyes and batting his impossibly long lashes, he turned his big doe eyes towards Chuuya, making that dreaded, kicked puppy face.

“Chuu it hurts a lot.” Dazai whimpered, “Kiss it better?”

Atsushi winced waiting for the inevitable outcry of “Shut the fuck up that's fucking disgusting!” coupled with a slap that would surely end Dazai-san's life for good this time but what happened next was something he could'nt have conjured up even in his most wildest dreams.

Chuuya sighed, exasperated. “Fucking baby,” he mumbled.

And then, he tucked Dazai's hair behind one ear, pressed his gloved hand to his cheek and pulled him forward so lovingly Atsushi's eyes hurt from watching. He tried to look away, but stood there frozen as Chuuya kissed Dazai's cheek, staying against it for a few seconds with his eyes closed and then nuzzling against his face before pulling away.

“There are you fucking happy?”

The sound of glass shattering made Chuuya and Dazai whip their heads to see Atsushi standing at the door with his mouth agape and the medicine bottle cracked into splinters on the floor.

Atsushi met his mentor's eyes only to have his mind completely blue screen at the flushed and giddy look on his face. He'd never seen Dazai look so, well, alive before. They stared at each other before Chuuya broke the silence.

“What the fuck kid, you wasted the medicine!”

“You!” Atsushi couldn't ignore this any longer, “You- You just kissed Dazai-san!”

Chuuya looked annoyed, “He was in pain, dumbass.”

“SO YOU KISSED HIM?!?!”

“What the fuck are you so spooked about?” Chuuya said, raising his brows.

“THAT'S NOT NORMAL!”

“Yes it is.” Dazai interrupted, "Atsushi-kun don't you know you're supposed to kiss wounds better?”

“HE DIDN'T EVEN KISS THE WOUND?!?!”

“Shut up both of you.” Chuuya snapped.

“Are you guys dating?!?!” Atsushi screamed.

“NO” they both yelled in unison.

Atsushi eyed them suspiciously. Yeah there was definitely something going on. He watched Dazai pull on a long strand of Chuuya's hair to bring his attention back to himself. Chuuya slapped it away. Dazai pouted and held his hand to his chest mournfully. Chuuya grabbed said hand and kissed the back of it. Rubbing the red stinging mark he'd inflicted himself with his thumb. Dazai giggled.

On second thought, he didn't want anything to do with this.

“Okay uh.. I'll take my leave then! Goodbye Dazai-san, get well soon!” Atsushi rushed out before running out the room and slamming the door shut.

Dazai hummed amusingly. He moved his hand to slip his ring finger inside Chuuya's glove.

“Chuuya, we've been partners for 7 years and you know what they say after having spent so much time together you have to get married.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, it's only natural.”

Chuuya looked at him, unimpressed. “You really think I'm that gullible, you stupid mackerel?”

“You have no idea,” Dazai muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Chuuya sighed dramatically, shaking his head. Seriously, with the way the chibi acted you would think he was 80 years old. Dazai started thinking of other ways he could convince Chuuya to be his dog forever. If he could trick him into signing those marriage papers nothing could come between them! Maybe he should just forge Chuuya's signature…

“Stop thinking of stupid shit!” Chuuya slapped the back of his head.

“Chuuya doesn't know me well at all, I was thinking of something very serious!”

“No you weren't, that's not your serious thinking face,” Chuuya stated plainly, as if it didn't just make Dazai's heart skip a beat. How dare Chuuya say the most romantic things so nonchalantly! Dazai wanted to swoon. Gross.

“Chibikkooooo, you have to!” he whined.

Chuuya let out an annoyed breath, and Dazai knew he'd won, “Fine, you stupid waste of bandages, I suppose if we have to.”

Dazai internally cheered. Outwardly, he put the papers in front of Chuuya. “Sign here.”

“WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE THESE?”

“Stupid chibi, I'm always prepared.”

Chuuya looked at him. The man who destroys his apartment for shits and giggles, makes fun of his hats, hates dogs (seriously, what a monster) and makes his life actual hell. The same man who saved him from the sheep when they turned against him, and gave him a home when he had nowhere else to go. Who acts like he's heartless but cares so much more than anyone could imagine. Someone who's so smart yet dumb enough to think Chuuya actually falls for his stupid lies. The ridiculous man who just pulled marriage papers out of his ass the second his proposal was a success.

Chuuya had half a mind to tell the mackerel he wasn't 15 anymore, that he knew what he was up to but one look at those stupid, big, beautiful brown eyes, sparkling with joy at having thought he tricked him, he decided to play along. Oh how he'd burn the world for this idiot.

And so, Chuuya signs the papers. And wears a ring under his gloves where no one can see it. And lets a mackerel live in his house and dump his precious wine down the sink. He really is the most gullible person on earth.

[chaithetics]

frothing at the mouth for any norm fics

Gaps of Sunlight

Pairing: Norm Maclean (Fallout) x f reader Word count: 4.5K Gif by @klausbens Warning: Barely proofread, pining, longing, maybe a little fluff and angst? a jab at Chet's weird crush, this is set before the events of Fallout S1 so some 'foreshadowing' I guess but doesn't have any spoilers! Mitski inspired! A/N: Ask and you shall receive 🙏(translation: thank you for enabling me!!!) This is my first time writing Norm and it's the most fun I've had with writing a fic in a long time! I feel like I'm a more descriptive writer and I haven't had an idea flow like this in quite a while. I feel like this is similar to 'Porce and the Shark' in terms of writing? Idk how well this flows as a story lol?!?! I've barely written any angst and I haven't really done any yearning, so I hope this is good! So please validate, I just felt like I was never going to finish or/fix it enough so I thought I'd post it as is. Thought about the queen of angst, @inknopewetrust's work a lot when I started writing this. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🫶

You lay in bed as you couldn’t help but think about it all. Once again. You could go outside to the corn fields but all that could offer you was a projection from a time and place well before you were even conceived as an idea. You’d never really know what the sunlight felt like, how it would heat your chin and what it would be like to bathe in that light. You had tried to live vicariously through that with what approved, classic literature had survived the war and through the vaults. Shakespeare didn’t offer you much beyond metaphors that were just out of your grasp with relatability to your environment, you hadn’t particularly enjoyed Chaucer, an opinion you’d kept from your father. While the Brontë sisters were able to perfectly let you know what rain in a different continent would’ve felt like against your face and how it would’ve smelt and made your shoes feel to run across an English countryside, they never enlightened you about what being bathed in sunlight would feel like. There were only so many times you could read and annotate Homer’s works awaiting a revelation. 

Despite how everyone else moved around Vault 33, it was impossible for you to not help but wonder more of life. What it all was, and what it all meant. 

You pull yourself out of a possible mental spiral and quickly get ready for the day as it eases on just as every other day does in the Vault. There’s breakfast with a pleasant conversation with your family, and you teach English classes to the youth of Vault 33, you participate in other extracurriculars just like most of the other Vault dwellers but teaching takes up the bulk of each of your days. You don’t mind that at all though, you enjoy it, even on days where everything feels like a complete rut. The mornings when the blue of the vault suits feels like too much, the pleasantries feel more like programming than authentic connections. 

It had started like every other day and classes had happened accordingly, there was now the communal reprieve of lunch. As you slowly chew you look up and see him across the dining hall, despite being from the poster-perfect vault family, he’s Vault 33’s very own black sheep, Norman MacLean. He’s sitting there silently while his dad and Lucy are happily chatting away. Each taking turns trying to lure him into conversation, which he rejects each time with a quick, blink and you’ll miss it shake of his head. The same expression he always wears these days and has for years is etched onto his face, a chronic look of apathy. 

You can’t help but stare at him for a moment, watching the way he looks on almost blankly. Even from across the room, you can see every thought in those brown doe eyes as if he’s saying them aloud. How is it that he’s still so misunderstood? 

You’d grown up with Norm, he’d always been nice to you, even when you were at school. But that wasn’t exceptional, that was the whole thing with vault-dwellers, being nice people, even from a very young age. It’s not exactly a melting pot of cultures in the Vault like you know the surface once was but the culture is to be nice, chirpy, and practical. 

Norm was nice, he had a quiet charm, he’d be a good politician, just in a different way and style as his father, he was practical but he didn’t have a cheery disposition. He lacked enthusiasm and at times it seemed to almost fascinate him how much that little rebellion could bother people. He didn’t put himself out there and you remember how he was smart, he knew answers to the questions that were asked but he’d never put his hand up for them. 

It made you wonder at times if he was scared of his own voice. You feel your eyes squinting as you look at him wondering that question, as if studying his jawline for another minute or watching him lift his fork up to his mouth will tell you. 

With a deep breath, you tilt your head discreetly to look around to see if anyone noticed your infatuated staring but nobody seems to. You still put a polite, chirpy smile on your face in case anyone did. That should be enough for anyone to notice anything your eyes might’ve been betraying. 

Your mind still stays on him, because as always, you might see him better than anyone else but he is still a puzzle with pieces you have yet to find the corners to.

You’re sitting near the cornfield, trying to live vicariously in a world that’s not yours, one that will always be out of touch, just trapped into ink on a page and repeated for the ears of children, to fulfil a mission. But it’s his voice that pulls you out of the inner world of classical Greek horrors. 

“Sunny day today.” He says as he looks down at you as you sit on the chair and look at his standing form. He says it as if it isn’t sunny every day with that projection meant to convince you of what the surface once knew and not instead fall flat and be more reminiscent of golden Hollywood-esque crops on sets of the films that have survived. Norm’s voice is quiet, he’s just as soft-spoken as you remember him being so long ago. His tone is bored, but it doesn’t deter you, how could it when he’s standing in front of you looking into your eyes? 

He looks into your eyes, taking in the colour, worried that someday he could forget the flicks closest to your eyes. They might rearrange if he doesn’t look at them for another ten seconds to appreciate them. He could forget them. But he never would. 

“Just like your disposition.” You quietly tease, offering him a shy smile. 

Just as if it’s somehow not always sunny, a rare occasion worth being spoken about, so is his unchanging character. But beyond adding in a couple of cups of more confidence perhaps, you don’t think there’s much else that could be worth editing. 

“And for that exact reason, I’m surprised I’m getting a job transfer with the reasoning being my enthusiasm levels.” He says with a breathless chuckle. 

You tilt your head as you look up at him, he’s still standing, the toe of his shoe almost toying with something invisible on the artificial emerald green grass. You’d put your thumb in your book when he’d arrived but now you put your bookmark in and gently close it. Placing it gently on your lap. 

It hadn’t been that long since you’d both finished your education, having had jobs and duties in the vault was important for its efficiency and functionality. But still, this wouldn’t be Norm’s second job. You were still the teacher you’d been assigned at the start of your adult life, most people in the vault only ever had one job, sometimes they would change and so have had two in their whole life and of course, there would be a change of two or sometimes three for overseers, but three while still being so young was very rare. You had questions and internal crises about this world all the time, there was always a moment somewhere in your world that you felt slightly out of place. But still, contentment had found a way to settle in your bones much easier than it did for him. 

“What were the enthusiasm levels?” You ask quietly, slowly blinking. You already know the answer. 

Norm looks down at the ground, at the grass he could tug out and it would just never grow back. No matter how desperately everyone would want to pretend it would. His foot is so close to yours, mere inches away, the toe of his shoe could just brush against yours and no one would know. 

“Nought.” He says with disinterest, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as his eyes stay planted on the ground. 

“Something will stick eventually.” You say. 

You say stick, you don’t say that there will definitely be something he loves or that it’ll all be okay, it’s not what he wants to hear and you don’t know if there’s a role in this world that you both live in that would fulfil him as much as his father is fulfilled by being Overseer. He appreciates that. But he needs to change the subject. 

“Is a literature teacher always reading?” He questions as if it’s a riddle that might amuse him. 

“More likely to happen than finding them counting.” You say as you tilt your head. You don’t remember the last time he approached you for conversation, or the last time that he did and there were this many words. It would’ve been back when you were younger, still classmates. You can’t track an exact memory down which surprises you.

“So, what’s that one?” He asks looking at the book in your lap for a moment before his eyes slowly gaze back to your face, making eye contact for the first time in over a minute. You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at this. You feel seen as his eyes rake up and take in every facial feature and unique mark on you. 

Everyone makes a false and fatal assumption about Norm. They assume that because he’s not extroverted and over-the-top warm like Lucy or Hank, that he’s not charming. That’s complete crap. You know it’s false. He’s not the same as his family or a lot of the people in your home vault but without a doubt, Norman MacLean oozes charisma. He knows just when to turn it on and how to utilise it in the best way with each person. And right now, it’s working on you. 

“The Three Theban plays, by Sophocles.” You whisper as your eyes bore into him, you don’t dare to blink. Too scared that he might just disappear if you do, and that when your eyes open again, this will all be confirmed as another of one of your many daydreams about him. “They’re tragedies, I’m reading Antigone, at the moment.” You feel yourself latching each word onto the next word as if you’re climbing a ladder and need to build more rungs at the same time, there’s some intrinsic need in you to draw this out for just a few more moments. His presence gives you some kind of glow. You finally blink, your eyes not able to hold it anymore, he’s somehow still standing in front of you once your lids open. You immediately wonder if you’ve said too much and try to fight the urge to sigh but the urge to not let on how embarrassed you feel is more of a priority, you need to keep that internal. 

“And what has that taught you?” He asks with a small smile. 

Someone else might’ve found the tone cold. If someone else had asked that exact question, it might’ve felt condescending. But you know exactly what it is. 

Norm knows better, not better than you, he’s not that kind of arrogant. It’s because he’s always known that he knows better than most in these reinforced concrete and metal walls you all live in. But you live in a meritocracy. Everyone is in constant pursuit to be kind and to better and upskill as a contributing member of Vault society. Of course if someone’s openly reading it’s an academic pursuit, to be more well-read, that they can learn an important tale and moral lesson, or to use it as a quote to whip out at a convenient time in a council meeting or for intellectual criticism of another philosopher or writer’s thesis. And you both know it’s why each book that was chosen for survival by Vault-Tec was carefully curated, all in the name of intellectual pursuits and other reasons beyond either of your imagination. 

“Just further proof why we have rules against familial relations.” You reply after a slow blink, you remember what his sense of humour used to be like in class, how teachers would occasionally stifle an eye roll and sigh or would take a moment to then replaster their smile back on. You look at him, and your eyes can’t help but take in the shape of his nose as if you hadn’t already committed it to memory a thousand times before now. 

“Hah.” He says quietly, as if it’s amusing, which he finds to be a little as he lets out a small chuckle and his mouth quirks up and that makes you happy. It’s an expression that doesn’t grace his handsome face often. “Might need to pass that on to Chet, if that’s the case, I doubt he’s read it.” 

You let out a chuckle at that, and Norm’s brow furrows for a mere second as he takes you in. His mouth is still in a small smile but not many people find his humour to actually be humorous, his father and Lucy love him but he earns more small sighs and tired smiles from them than anything close to a laugh. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with this copy.” You reply with another slow blink. 

You watch his mouth, mentally tracing his lips with your eyes as he sucks his lips for a moment and nods, his eyes dropping to the ground again. It’s only then that you realise how close the toes of your feet are to each other. He couldn’t be looking down because of that, or thinking about that though. You are cursed to yearn in silence. “Appreciate it.” He says with a small smirk as he looks up at your eyes, he raises his eyebrows slightly to replace any verbal goodbyes and he walks off. 

Norm leaves you as he found you minutes before, all alone in false sunlight with a book in your hands. You still haven’t found the missing puzzle pieces. 

It had been four days now. Four days since you’d had that conversation with Norm, there had been plenty of stolen glances, and a few returned smiles when your eyes met across corridors or the dining hall, but Norman MacLean was still, one of the only things occupying your mind.

You wouldn’t complain, why would you? How could you when the fact that those glances, and snippets of conversations were now a supercut in your head that provided comfort whenever you started to get into another emotional crisis about vault life and what the history was that had brought everyone to this point. But still, you couldn’t help but sometimes worry over this yearning. How unrequited it could be. How unrequited it felt. 

You felt a hunger in the pit of your stomach each time that you saw his shadow, each time you two made eye contact you couldn’t help but feel as if it was a caress on your skin, even though the only time he’d touched you was to help you up when you’d fallen over outside when you were seven. He’d insisted on being the one to put the excessive amount of band-aids on your grazed hands. Hank had stood back and watched, finding it endearing, how concentrated Norm’s face was at such a young age. Maybe they should’ve thought about trialling him in medicine, but no, he probably still lacked the desired enthusiasm during the first-aid training vault-dwellers did. 

You were seated with your family for a council update, everyone gathered to sit on the folded chairs, you and your family were always extremely punctual, you sat with them on one side while the other was still a row of a few empty seats. 

As people slowly trickle in you see Norm come in, he looks mentally fatigued as he looks around, you turn your head to face your family so you don’t catch his eye in hopes of him not noticing your stare. How pathetic would he think you are if he saw you looking at him like a wide-eyed puppy, begging for love? You can imagine, but you don’t want to know. After a moment you hear somebody sit down next to you, the chatter of people finding seats fills your ears but you don’t hear any from whoever sits down. You feel their arm brush against yours, you know it’s nothing but you instinctively turn to see who it is and to give them a polite and welcoming smile. 

It’s Norm. Of course, it’s Norm. But why is it? He’s just facing ahead so he hasn’t acknowledged you yet, although you’re sure he can see your smile and look in his peripheral vision. “Hey.” You say quietly in a warm voice as you look at his handsome side profile, he shouldn’t look that good. His face shouldn’t be so perfectly sculpted. “Hi.” He says quietly as he tilts his head giving you a small look that seems dramatically playful which makes you smile, and let out a silent chuckle. Norm’s face turns back ahead to face the front where his father now stands and the council sit. Your eyes follow his gaze and you turn back in your seat to look straight ahead as Hank MacLean starts his updates in his usual down-to-earth, selfless leader tone. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, him choosing this seat, you even wonder if his arm brushing against you was intentional as he sat down and then again you wonder if you were being crazy for wondering that. As Hank’s words go on to fill the air, they don’t really fill your head, that’s too busy being at full capacity with thoughts of Norman. You rub your chin after a moment, hoping the feeling of your fingertips and nails against your chin might create a sensory distraction. You get a completely different kind of sensory distraction when his arm gently brushes against yours as he leans back in his seat, he adjusts himself so that your shoulders are touching and you can feel his arm against yours. You can’t help but silently gasp, hoping he doesn’t hear it and your breath traps itself as you hold your breath. Feeling far too scared to move. It has to be intentional, you look at him through the corner of your eye as you try not to move. He’s still looking ahead, his expression unfazed as he looks at the people in front of him but he’s still sitting in that position. He hasn’t moved his arm. 

It’s intentional. 

You try to breathe again as your cheeks heat up, and you bite the corner of your lip. The feeling of his arm against yours sends shivers up your spine and you can feel the warmth of that small point of contact radiating throughout the rest of your body. 

The connection you feel with Norm is deep and for the first time in quite a while, this simple gesture of touching arms makes you wonder if these years of yearning maybe aren’t unrequited. You feel your shoulders start to slowly rise and fall again at this thought, this movement hasn’t disturbed Norm away. A smile grows on your face like the corn that’s picked around the year, as you smile and look ahead. The meeting continues like this, it isn’t till the end that you lose that gentle, physical touch, sweet connection that you long for as Norm gets up and leaves to carry on with his day, you smile as he stands up, he gives you as small smile and walks away. You’re now touch-starved all over again, and you think it feels more hollow after feeling a touch from him. 

Maybe one day it won’t be just your arms touching but instead your hands, your hands will brush against each other and then your fingers will interlock together. You’re better at camouflaging but you’re certain that your souls are made of and connected by the same things. 

It’s been what feels like an eternity since you felt Norm’s simple touch, it’s occupied every thought and been the reason behind nearly every smile since it happened. The question is though, has it been haunting Norm at all? You know he isn’t seeing anyone, secrets like that don’t exist here and it would certainly be talk with how introverted Norm is. 

Hours is the amount of time you’ve spent trying to think of a reason to approach him but nothing feels right and you decide against it anytime you get close to it. You try to find any excuse to visit him and the one you can think of is beyond pathetic, and you know that. 

You find another copy of a collection of plays and decide to give it to Norm, for him to decide whether he wants to read it or to fulfil a bit. It’s not a good reason, but it’s the best you’d been able to come up with. And at least with the book in your hands there would be some comfort in the pages, the smell of them and the remaining dust that haunted the corners that had been facing the wall. It can ground you and be something to hold onto anxiously while you make a fool of yourself. Norm conveniently answers after you’ve knocked at the MacLean family unit. He looks at your face and raises his eyebrows slightly, his face switches from an apathetic expression to one a bit warmer. “Hey.” You say, smiling at him but you think it must come off as panicked and scared as you look at him with wide eyes and feel an anxious parasite growing and feeding off of you in your brain. 

“Hi.” He says as he steps back letting you come into the unit. You walk in, and it’s nice and tidy but it’s the same as essentially your family unit and every other unit in Vault 33. You blink as you look around for a couple of seconds and your eyes land back on him, he’s been watching you the whole time. 

“After Lucy?” He asks and you feel your cheeks heat up, you liked Lucy, she was an extremely lovely person and you did consider her a close friend. “No.” You shake your head, the admission makes you feel like coming here was an even worse idea than what you thought it was just a few minutes ago. “I brought a copy of tragedies, in case you needed any dark reading, or wanted to… pass them on…” You continue and bite your lip for a second. 

Norm lets out a little chuckle that shakes his shoulders for a second but it’s borderline silent, almost not real. He looks into your eyes and takes a step closer, you’re not sure if he’s going to do the hospitality script you learn from a young age of offering a glass of water or cup of old Joe. 

Instead, he quickly steps closer and Norm places his hands on the back of your neck, you sharply exhale and you know that the hair on the back of your neck is standing up. The feeling of goosebumps on every inch of your skin overwhelms your senses as his lips finally crash down. 

His lips are slightly chapped and you can feel that against yours, the fine lines and cracks as they press against your mouth. There’s nothing you can do but melt into his touch as you’re overcome with warmth. But there isn’t anything else you’d want to do anyway. 

There’s nothing else you can imagine feeling that feels this good. You kiss him back instinctively and put your hand into his hair as he deepens the kiss, his hair is soft and you run your fingers through it as you feel his tongue, and it’s a clash of your mouths against the other. 

You immediately wonder if the physical warmth of where your bodies come into contact, his breath against your face, his warm lips, and the warmth that envelops you internally is what sunlight feels like. This feeling basks you in what you imagine would be similar to being basked in the light of sunrays would. 

You don’t know how long this lasts, it feels like a sweet lifetime but still deliciously short as you kiss and feel his hair while his hand is gentle on the back of your neck. Like all things, it eventually ends. You look at each other with widened eyes and pant as your lips are no longer in contact. Your cheeks heat up and you almost want to giggle. You see his face is flushed and his eyes shine, you think it’s adoration but you could be projecting. 

“My dad will be back soon.” He whispers knowingly as his eyes look glassy. “Oh.” You look around as if that’ll help you feel more composed. You weren’t expecting this to end so abruptly, this felt like something straight out of a dream and now it was a cold end, something want to shapeshift into a nightmare. You know you should leave, you’re feeling far too flustered to try and have a conversation with Hank and you know this isn’t a conversation Norman wants to try navigating around with his father. “We um… Well, we need to talk…” You breathe out. 

He smiles and whispers your name, the tone is reverent as he says each syllable. “Not now.” His eyes look a little less glassy but it’s still a visible sheen and you can see it, the sun has withdrawn a little.  

“Not now?” You repeat, it comes out as a shaky question though as you feel every muscle in your body tense.

This is rejection, this is what puts all those protagonists you’ve read of into a depression that only the seaside can cure if anything can cure it. Being in this vault, you don’t think you can ask for cornfield projections to change to windy cliffs with waves crashing and the artificial grass to be replaced with manmade sand. You’d always wondered about the sunlight but now you’d have to wonder what sand from a beach felt like as well. 

“No.” He whispers. “That isn’t fair. Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you. 

“When?” “Maybe when you finish the book, not a copy, your book.” 

“Not a copy?” Your face scrunches up, as your brain runs screaming. 

“No.” He answers. “Yours probably has thoughtful annotations or something right?” He asks. 

“Or something.” You whisper back. 

“I’ll read that.” He says. 

You nod, as you pick up the spare copy and walk out from the MacLean unit, you don’t feel like you’re controlling your body right now, it must be some form of muscle memory.  Maybe you need to read and reread every book in the vault to further investigate if what you just felt was sunlight. Or, you wonder, are you still under gaps of sunlight, missing Norm more than anything?

[runnning-outof-time]

Helpless | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @cillmequick ‘s 6 month anniversary celebration

Pairing: wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) falls for a charming soldier at one of her family's parties. From the second her eyes fall on him, she's helplessly in love.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, war

Word Count: 2895

A/N: this isn’t one of the songs you had on your list, Alex, but I just couldn’t pass up this opportunity for your celebration. I hope you don’t mind some showtunes being sprinkled into the music mix ;) Happy 6 months, Alex - this community is a better place because you’re in it.

A/N 2: this is based off of the song Helpless from the musical Hamilton. I’ve used some lines from it - they’re italicized. The end is left open on purpose…I didn’t want to follow the second half of the song so closely, so it’s been left up to you. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged in stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) took a deep breath before she entered the main room of the banquet hall that her family's revel was being hosted in. She was never a fan of these engagements, but it was something that she needed to get used to. She stepped into the room and subconsciously smoothed down the material of her powder blue dress before looking around to find a familiar face.

That face came in the form of her sister, Amelia. She was only a few years older than her, but she was certainly more conditioned to the events than (Y/N) was. It was because of that that (Y/N) always looked to her for help. Thankfully she always got it, or else she definitely would have looked like the black sheep of the room.

"Amelia!" (Y/N) called for her sister as she approached her.

Amelia turned around at the sound of her name and was immediately greeted with her younger sister's smile. "(Y/N)!" she repeated her sibling's name in a similar fashion, reaching out to hug her then. "You look lovely in that dress," she complimented once they pulled away.

"As do you," (Y/N) returned the compliment, looking over her sister's peach colored dress with a smile.

"Let's get a drink," Amelia suggested, taking hold of (Y/N)'s elbow and starting off to the refreshments table before she could get a word out.

The two ladies stood by the table, sipping on their champagne as they surveyed the room, watching the party happening around them. (Y/N) was the first to break the silence, "did dad invite any off duty commanders and their regiments tonight?" she asked, curiosity in her voice.

Amelia whipped around to look at her sister, a surprised look on her face, "are you looking for someone to spend your time with, (Y/N)?" she asked, a teasing grin forming on her face after she was finished speaking.

(Y/N) felt heat rising to her face, now realizing how her previous question could be taken. "No!" she answered quickly, her voice sounding a little too defensive for her liking, "you know I like seeing the soldiers at these events...it helps me to know that they're still alive despite the horrors happening around them," she then defended her original standpoint once she calmed herself down.

Amelia pursed her lips, looking at (Y/N) for a few moments. It was almost as if she was trying to see if the calm expression her sister was wearing was true or if it was just a facade. She bit back her smirk then, deciding to forego the teasing...for now. "I believe he's invited a few to come. I'm not sure how many will show though," she answered, her words making (Y/N) nod.

Their father was a prominent figure within the British Army. He was unable to fight due to an injury he sustained in a previous war, but the staff still kept him on for his intelligence. He liked to throw these revels, especially when it seemed as though good things were happening on the battlefield. (Y/N) didn't know the finer details of the war, but the fact that they were at this event must have meant things were going in the right direction.

"Soldiers incoming!" Amelia teased (Y/N), bringing her out of her thoughts with a giggle and a grin.

"Stop it, please, Amelia!" (Y/N) responded, only half-dismissively, as her eyes snapped to the main doors of the event hall.

The two women went silent as the group of soldiers walked through the doors. They watched them closely trying to get a read on each of them. (Y/N)'s eyes stayed stuck on one of the men who had harshly cut, dark hair and a sharp jawline. She couldn't ignore the fact that her heart started to race the second she spotted him. It was like nothing she'd felt before. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't pull her eyes from him.

"Didn't you hear me, (Y/N)?" Amelia's voice came back into the picture once the attractive man moved behind one of the other men in his company.

"What did you say?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes focused in the direction of the man for as long as she could, keeping her line of sight there even after she turned her head to look at her sister.

By the time she did look at Amelia, the other woman had a wide grin on her face. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

"Of course I didn't...that's why I asked," (Y/N) hissed, not even trying to craft a lie.

"You spotted someone," Amelia figured it out, her grin growing wider, if that was even possible.

(Y/N) exhaled a huff and looked away from her sister, happy that the man she'd been entranced by was still in the same spot that he was before so that she could look at him again. There were two ways that she could go about this: lie about it or continue with the truth.

"Which one is he?" Amelia chimed in again as she followed (Y/N)'s line of sight over to the group of soldiers that were conversing on the other side of the room. She'd obviously picked up on (Y/N)'s cues...(Y/N) silently cursed her for knowing them so well.

(Y/N) bit on her lip and looked at the man for a few moments longer before she leaned in next to Amelia's ear. She kept her eyes on the man as she harshly whispered, "that one," while subtly pointing to the raven haired soldier who'd now stepped off to the side of the group. "He's mine," she then added, turning to look at her sister with a serious expression on her face.

Amelia raised her eyebrows as she looked at (Y/N), taking a moment to let her words sink in. She'd not seen her sister look, or speak, like this over a man in a while...not since Jeremy Matthews in school. There must've been something she saw immediately in him. "Him?" she asked then, pointing over at the group.

(Y/N) followed her sister's finger, checking to see if she was pointing at the same man that she'd been looking at. "Him," she confirmed, her smile breaking through the fight she'd put up to keep it off of her features.

Amelia fully turned to (Y/N) as she heard this confirmation. (Y/N)'s eyes widened as she took in the look her sister was wearing. "I'll be right back," the older of the two stated, leaving her spot before (Y/N) could open her mouth to protest.

(Y/N)'s heart rate picked up for the second time in this short span as she watched her sister saunter her way over to the group of soldiers. Unlike the first time, it was now beating out of worry. What's she gonna do? she thought to herself, holding her breath as Amelia came to a stop in front of the man they'd spoken about.

Amelia put her brightest smile on as she approached the man her sister had her eyes set on. He was talking to a man by his side, but that didn't stop her from tapping him on the forearm. "Excuse me, sir," she began, her words making him halt his conversation and look in her direction.

She was immediately encapsulated by his eyes. They were the deepest blue she'd ever seen and she was certain after only seconds of looking into them that she'd never met anyone with such striking irises before, and that she wouldn't for the rest of her life. A slight voice began speaking in the back of her mind as she stared into them. What if you would just... she didn't let the thought finish as (Y/N) popped back into the center of her thoughts. She saw him first. She's the reason you're over here. You're doing this for her.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Amelia had to repeat her new found mantra as it blessed her ears.

She put her polite smile back on, reminding herself of her sister as she answered his question, "may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Sure," he answered, the slightest grin that formed at the corner of her lips making her almost slip from her intentions again.

I'm through, (Y/N) thought to herself, her stomach sinking as she watched Amelia speak to the man. It felt as though all bets were off when she watched her take him by his arm and turn him towards where she'd come from. But then he looked at her, and (Y/N) was almost certain that she forgot how to breathe for a moment or two.

"Where are you taking me?" the man asked Amelia, his brows furrowed together as he still let her wrap her hand around his elbow to begin moving him from his group.

She turned him before saying anything, and that made him look straight ahead at a woman standing at the side of the ballroom. She was wearing a light blue dress and was by herself. He was immediately intrigued by her.

"I'm about to change your life," Amelia answered, a grin in her voice as she began leading him towards her sister. She was able to see the man grin from the corner of her eye. This is for (Y/N)!!, she screamed to herself.

"Then by all means, lead the way," he replied, his grin apparent in his words. He was certainly intrigued by where he was being taken. "I don't believe I got your name," he said to the mysterious woman who he'd been pulled away by.

"Amelia (Y/L/N)," Amelia answered, her eyes still set on (Y/N). They were about halfway over to her.

"As in Peter (Y/L/N)?" the man tried to make a connection to the host of the party.

"Yes. He's my father," Amelia's answer was short because they were only a few steps away from their destination.

(Y/N) waited until they stopped in front of her to begin speaking, "(Y/N) (Y/L/N)," she introduced herself, a smile gracing her lips as she bit back her nerves. Goodness, he was even more handsome up close.

"(Y/L/N)?" the man asked, surprise present in his voice as he glanced over at Amelia.

"My sister," Amelia filled him in, smiling at him before looking back at (Y/N).

"Thank you for your service," (Y/N) brought his attention back onto her, and she just about melted as she watched his eyes glance over her before a grin tugged the corner of his lips upwards.

"If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it," he responded to her, his words setting butterflies off in her stomach.

"I'll leave you to it," Amelia chimed in, making (Y/N) remember that she was still standing there.

(Y/N) smiled at her sister as she walked away before she focused her attention on the handsome soldier in front of her. Oh what I'd give to go for a swim in those eyes...get yourself together, (Y/N)! She snapped herself out of her thoughts before she managed to get stuck there. "I don't believe I got your name," she restarted their conversation.

"Shelby. Thomas Shelby," he formally introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet you, Thomas," she smiled at him.

"You as well," he sent a smile back.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked him another question, a curious look forming on her face.

"No," he shook his head once, "was it evident?"

"Yes, it was," she answered him, a smile breaking them on her features. She felt like she should pinch herself...how was this man still talking to her??

"How so?" he asked her, now being the one wearing the curious look.

"People from around here don't look like you," she told him her reasoning behind the question, her answer making him raise his eyebrows. She immediately began to heat up as she saw his expression. Have I messed this entire thing up?

His answer served to calm her down though. "I'll take that as a compliment, Miss (Y/L/N)," he said to her, his grin returning.

"Call me (Y/N)," she corrected him after a rush of confidence flowed through her. He nodded his head at this information, making a mental note of it.

"Well, (Y/N)..." he started off, stepping ever so slightly closer to her, "can I interest you in a dance?" he asked, holding his hand out to her then.

She glanced down at it, the feeling of exhilaration bubbling up inside of her as her smile returned again, "I'd love a dance," she answered him, slipping her hand into his so that he could lead her to the dancefloor.

—

It'd been almost two weeks since (Y/N) met Tommy at the revel, and over that time, she'd been writing to him nonstop. He hadn't been sent back out yet; his company was on a short leave period, which was why he was able to attend her family's party. The feeling that she felt the second she set her eyes on him hadn't left her yet.

She could almost feel the weight of his lips on hers when she thought back to the kiss they shared in the back hallway of the banquet hall as the night was winding down, and she swore that she could hear him talking to her whenever she read the letters he sent.

He'd told her all about his life: of how his mother had died a few years back and his father officially left the family right after, that he and his two brothers left their remaining family to fight, and that he didn't have much to his name, but he swore that he'd make something of himself when he returned to Birmingham - where he was from.

She wasn't afraid to admit it: she was helplessly in love with him. She felt that she could do anything when she looked into his eyes...the sky was the limit when she was with him.

"Post came," Amelia announced as she entered the sitting room that (Y/N) was occupying. "There's something from Tommy," she said with a grin as she flipped through the envelopes she was holding. She then picked it out and held it up, "I wonder what he's written in this one?" she questioned, her grin growing.

"Can I have it please, Amelia?" (Y/N) asked, standing from the chair she was on to retrieve the letter.

"Will you read it to me?" Amelia asked a question of her own as she turned to look at her sister. "He's such an eloquent writer," she continued, holding the envelope just out of the younger woman's reach.

"Give me the letter, Amelia!" (Y/N) exclaimed, trying, and failing, to get the letter into her own possession. She struggled a few more times before she was able to grab Amelia's hand and take the letter from it.

"I'm just saying, if you really loved me, you would share him," Amelia stated once (Y/N) had won the struggle. Her statement sounded joking in nature, but there was a slight tone of jealousy hidden in the undertones. If you pried enough, you'd get her to admit to the fact that she regretted bringing Tommy over to meet (Y/N). She'd thought about him and his eyes every day since that night. As much as she wished the memory would fade, it was still there; stuck in the back of her mind.

(Y/N) didn't catch those undertones because she was too busy working on opening the envelope. She quickly unfolded the letter and excitedly read what he'd written to her. The words made her heart flutter. It was nice to hear that he was still doing well and that he was happy to read what she'd written to him. The sentiments she shared with him were abundantly returned, which made her overjoyed. Then she got to the end of the letter. "Oh my goodness..." she breathed, reading it over a few times to confirm that she wasn't making his last few sentences up.

"What?" Amelia asked, peering over her sister's shoulder as she tried to get a glimpse.

"He's going to be sent back out once the weekend's finished," (Y/N) began filling her sister in on what was written. The thought of him going back out to the front lines made her heart drop. She'd forgotten the war was even happening these past two weeks. But the sentence he ended with made her stomach twist even more.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sis," Amelia frowned at the news.

"That's not all he wrote," (Y/N) continued, not wanting to dwell on the sad news...not when the possibility of the future was hanging in the balance.

"What else did he say?" Amelia eagerly asked.

"He's asked if he could come and speak to dad..." she paused, looking right at her sister as she finished her sentence, "he wants to ask for his blessing."

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

Listen to the song Helpless from Hamilton:

Here.

[bellrose]

Pretty Phone in Pink

This little piece was born from @elusivewildflower "What if you had that Barbie phone as a burner phone", and my silly edition of "What if Court gave you a burner phone but it is a Barbie phone." The phone in question. This turned out more feels-y than silly, but oh well.

Summary: It's customary for Court to dissapear for weeks on end, only to re-appear the least you expect it. Sometimes you wished he would be more transparent on his wereabouts, if not to cease your worrying but to hear his voice when you miss him most. This time Court comes home with a solution to that.

Court Gentry x gender neutral reader

Warnings: implied injured!Court

Word count: 626

Court looked a bit sheepish when he handed you the box. As if he regretted not bundling it in some obnoxious wrapping paper, glitter and a bow on top. An image of a battered Court Gentry folding the creases of some papery design around the gift while laying low in some shithole or another made you stifle a chuckle. And a little tickle in your stomach.

The box was carton, no labels, very much very nondescript. Like a giddy child on Christmas morning you tore the tape off. Another box inside, gleaming plastic. A pink box.

“What-” you started, then paused. It was a phone. A pink phone. A Barbie phone. “You got me a phone.”

“Yes,” Court answered, pushing himself off the kitchen counter. Every movement a bit halted, as if every shift of his muscles was carefully considered, which they probably were.

Court was a master in pretending and you had no idea what kind of injury he was hiding underneath that hoodie. You asked, of course, when he dragged himself into your apartment through the fire escape looking every bit like a wet cat who got the cream upon your reaction to his sudden appearance.

You knew where he had been, or well, not exactly where but you knew he had been gone for the past week doing whatever Court did when he disappeared in a puff of smoke and the dregs of burnt coffee in your favourite mug. A Barbie mug with a chip in the ear and the print of Skipper faded from the many journeys through the dishwasher.

His mug now, but that was one of the things that had been left unspoken.

As much as Court kept his activities guarded from your scrutiny - though he would atone for those sins later when you dragged him into the bathroom to examine, as there was more to WikiHow than ‘how to be a mermaid’ - now his face was like an open book.

Court could speak so much without uttering one word. Sometimes you wanted to punch him for it. His honest affection and the maelstrom of feelings that lit a blush on your cheeks. The implication of the gift was clear.

“I thought you said,” you paused, cleared your throat. Too loud in the kitchen. “That it would be safer for me not to contact you when you…” Are busy trying not to get shot at.

Court winced.

“You can use it as a burner phone,” he said, holding your gaze. “I know the last few months have been hard on you. On us. And- I didn’t want you to be in danger, not anymore.”

From the front pouch of his hoodie, he pulled out a sturdy flip phone. Unlike the screaming pink, it was a slate grey. It reminded you of the Nokia’s of your youth. Inconspicuous and seemingly indestructible. Like him.

“Next time I’m gone,” he held up the phone, “You can call me, and I’ll try to answer.” Then he smirked. “Unless you aren’t interested in a bed time story.”

You rolled your eyes. “If it involves another rant on pickles, please do spare me.” “Hm, what’s wrong with counting pickles instead of sheep?”

You set the box down on the dinner table and took a step forward, crowding his space. “Thank you. I know this must be difficult for you.”

“I imagine not as difficult as having to worry if I’d ever come back to you at all,” he said, voice low in a whisper.

“But you’re here now.”

“Yes.”

You carded your fingers through his fringe, still wet from the rain outside. Tracing your thumb down his temple, over his cheek, resting just underneath his lower lip. The stubble scratching your skin.

“Tell me another story.”

Is the Barbie movie canon in The Gray Man movie-verse? Perhaps.

Thank you for reading

[onboardsorasora]

Enchanted AU: Part 36

Your eyes do not deceive you, its a new chapter! (which I started months ago and tabled). We're going back to irregular updates here-- mostly whenever I feel a vibe. If a new plot forms, it forms! I missed these two, happy to write them again.

Enchanted AU - Disney Princess Dan 1 | Part 35

Max placed his hand on Daniel's bouncing thigh as they sat in the back of the SUV. The skyline was a beautiful orange that reminded him of the smoke that followed him around the grandstands.

Perth was beautiful.

Joe had only given him a stern look in place of a shovel talk before shaking his hand. No doubt Grace and Michelle took care of that. Daniel had clutched Joe like his life depended on it and Max was able to see the absolute relief that fluttered over the elder Ricciardo’s face. 

Daniel seemed to get more and more nervous the closer they got to the family ranch. He'd begun biting his cuticles along with his leg hopping.

“What's wrong?” Max leaned over to whisper. Daniel jolted a little before smiling.

“I'm just excited to see everyone I think. It's like been so long.”

“They'll all be happy to see you, I think.” Max knew Daniel meant all the animals in his ‘everyone’ and he couldn't wait to maybe meet some of them. 

They arrived not too long afterwards and there was a flurry of activity. Daniel was scooped up into many hugs and Max was even enfolded into the bosom of an older woman who mumbled to him in Italian. She looked at Max's face this way and that from varying angles before she smiled beautifully as if satisfied.

“Nonna please.” Daniel came to save him, he muttered to the woman in Italian in a pleading tone and she only smirked at him and said something in what Max could only claim as an ‘i told you so’ tone.

“Don't mind her.” Daniel was blushing as he spoke, tugging Max out of the house by his hand. They exited through a door in the kitchen and Max saw that the land went on for kilometers. 

“Would you like to meet everyone?” Daniel asked shyly. Max threaded his fingers through Daniel's and brought the back of his tattooed wrist to his lips.

“I'd be honoured.”

Daniel led them through a side gate that separated a garden area from what seemed to be the greater farm. They didn't walk very far before they were immediately swarmed by a small herd of llamas, sheep and horses. 

Daniel took a minute to laugh and interact with the animals before tugging Max forward. He sang Max's introduction, and soon he was overwhelmed with animals trying to get his attention.

Max doesn't know how long they spent out there, going for rides with the herd. He was amazed at how excited the animals were to see Daniel again. It felt like the time in the glade in Monaco on steroids. Max watched as Daniel stroked the head of a foal tucked into his side, he smiled softly as they were presented with all of the new babies to ooh and ahh over.

If Max didn't know any better, he'd have thought they stepped into a Disney movie or something.

Grace stepped out onto the back patio with a grin and her hands on her hips. Daniel looked up from where he was nuzzling an alpaca and nodded. 

“It's dinner time I think.” Daniel murmured, reaching for Max's hand.

It took some coaxing and promises of more cuddle time for the animals to let them go. Daniel also promised to brush the horses before the night was over. 

“C’mon Mr popular.” Max teased, pulling Daniel close by the wrist. Daniel ducked his head in a blush and pushed Max's shoulder with his. 

“Did you– everyone enjoyed meeting you.” Daniel bit his lip nervously. He hoped Max hadn't been too overwhelmed.

Max kissed their joined hands. “It was lovely. Everyone really loves you.” Max said honestly. He only felt a little badly that he'd had Daniel to himself all this time. 

“I missed them as well. If I knew I'd have been gone for so long I'd have given everyone more kisses!” Daniel babbled. “I'll make sure to spend time with everyone before we leave for Melbourne.”

They stepped onto the back porch and Max pulled Daniel into his arms. He kissed Daniel's temple, smiling a little at the thought of Daniel coming with him to a race weekend. He was more excited than he realized, the anticipation of Daniel in his world– seeing him in his element was high. 

“I'll come with you.” Max promised, enjoying the beaming smile Daniel sent his way. It would be lovely, he knew. Any time spent with Daniel was.

[azucarmorena97]

Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.7)

Pt.6 || Pt.8

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

Recap: "Jungkook," Your shocked expression is no match for the expression on his face: serious yet gentle eyes, lips parted slightly as he catches his breath, leaning lightly on the door frame. "What are you doing here?" You ask. He bites his bottom lip and just stares at you for a second, "You didn't come tonight." "You never came back last night," You say, not missing a beat. He nods, "I know..." You rest your hand on the door for a bit, considering whether or not to let him in. "Come in," You say finally, stepping aside to let him in past you. You suppose the rain can wait for you...

You close the door behind you, and then slowly turn. You're not sure why, but your heart is pounding- so loud, you can almost hear it. Can he? He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets. Usually, one might expect for a guest to look around, inspect the unfamiliar place- then again, his parents literally own the hotel. You don't even want to know how many of these rooms he's seen...how many of these rooms Lisa has seen...

"Please, sit." You say, motioning to the seat where your dress was previously draped on. He nods, footsteps silent on the carpet as he walks over. You sit across from him on the end of the bed, hands in your lap as you try desperately to think of what to say. What does one converse about with their fake fiance? "What happened?" He asks, finally breaking the silence. "I...I just was feeling sick so I originally said I'd wanted to rest." He shakes his head, "No, not just tonight. Even this morning, your mom rushing me to go home and rest- not even letting me say goodbye. You're lying." "I don't know what you want to hear, Jungkook," You don't mean to sound so harsh. "I want to hear the truth," He leans back, exasperated. The truth. Hm. Ironic.

"Who's Lisa, Jungkook?" You ask. You'd first asked him this question the other night after dinner, though this time, the question is really more of a statement. He sinks into the chair, "A friend." "Lie again." "I'm not lying," He looks away. "Keep lying, Jungkook. I hear it's the perfect foundation to a marriage." You cross your arms, looking away as well, letting your eyes stay on the rainy window. Maybe if you count every raindrop like sheep, you'll fall asleep and then wake up to realize this has all been one big dream. Wouldn't that be nice? To have been dreaming this whole time...to not have this giant weight on your shoulders. "Do you think these are signs from the universe?" Your voice is softer than a minute ago, more like you're talking to yourself than to him. He furrows his brows, "What?" "All of it..." You keep your eyes on the window, "Our first encounter, I literally slapped you. My dad and I got into the biggest fight we've ever had over this contract and..." "And what?" "And you never came back last night," You say, repeating your statement from when you'd first opened the door. "Y/n, I wanted to. I really did. I was just-" "Just what, Jungkook? Chopping it up with your ex-girlfriend?" "It's not like that, Y/n. I promise. She's just been having a hard time." "A hard time?" You snicker, "Jungkook, she's got you wrapped around your finger and you don't even realize it." "You don't even know anything about her," He snaps. The way he defends her...if only he'd heard what you heard. "Jungkook, you don't know her. Yesterday, I was in the bathroom and-" "You know what, I'm not gonna go back and forth discussing Lisa with you." The way he says 'you', like you're some random person. You. Maybe that's just what you are. A random person.

You look down, nodding silently. The silence between the both of you is so loud. Deafening, even. "Y/n, I- I'm trying here," He sounds almost as broken as you feel. Though you're sure the cracks run deeper for you; after all, you've sacrificed much more to be here than he has. Your entire life has been in preparation for your union with this guy, meanwhile, he's pining after the one who got away. "Yeah, I know," You clear your throat, "We don't have to pretend anymore, Jungkook." "Pretend?" He echoes, utterly confused. "Like we're friends or...whatever. Like we're anything more than two people obligated to our families. Shackled to each other by contract." "Shackled to each other...as that what we are?" His voice sounds more and more pained by the second, though it's like you're completely deaf to it. "From now on, we'll just do what we gotta do. We'll meet with our families, plan the wedding, and go through the motions. I'm sure in a year or two, Lisa will be waiting for you with open arms." Tears are beginning to form in your eyes, though you do everything in you to keep them in their place. You don't dare let them spill now. Not when you need to be your strongest. He nods, pursing his lips, "Well, alright then..." He gets out of the chair and walks past you, though as he's about to walk down the short breezeway leading to the door, he turns back to you, "I'll...see you tomorrow morning to start the arrangements for our..." His breath catches a bit. He's also determined not to break down here, "...the wedding." "Alright...see you tomorrow." You don't even look up until you hear the door finally click closed, and by that time, the tears have already begun pouring out of you- and you sit there cursing - and counting- every single water droplet on the window.

B/f/n comes stumbling in- her loud steps and giggles, an indicator of her drunkenness. She's never been one for grace when inebriated. Your back is turned to her; maybe if you're lucky, she'll assume you're asleep and try not to disturb you. "Y/n," She whispers. Maybe if you don't answer, she'll leave you alone. "Psst, Y/n. You awake?" "Mm?" "I'm back." Obviously. "How was it?" "Oh, it was amazing- I gotta tell you, this rich people stuff is just so...right for me," She sighs, "Ugh, and that Namjoon. He's really something special, isn't he?" "Yeah, totally," You try to sound normal, just sleepy enough for her to eventually stop talking. You can't bare to have a full blown conversation with her. Not after the night you've had. "You know, I honestly thought for sure you'd make an appearance at the banquet after all. I hoped you would, but then it started pouring outside so I guess it's good you didn't. Can you imagine? Getting all dolled up just to get rained on?" "Yeah, it's good I decided to stay..." "Anyway, alright. I'm gonna go to sleep. Sweet dreams," She says. "'Night," You respond, turning even further away so that she doesn't see your tear-stained face.

"Early bird gets the worm," Your mother's voice draws you out of your slumber, and you blink a few times. "What- how did you even get in here?" "Mmm..." B/f/n groans from right next to you. "One of the perks of being old family friends with the hotel owner," Your mom says smugly. Violation of privacy, you're sure, but who's going tell your mom that? She goes over to the black-out curtains and throws them open; the harsh sunlight is a reminder of the day ahead. "Mom, what are you doing?" You grab your pillow and press it down tightly against your face, wanting to block out the light. "Get up now. Both of you," She lightly shoves B/f/n's foot, which is hanging off the end of the bed, "We're meeting the Jeons in an hour and a half for breakfast. I will not be late on account of your laziness and your...hangover," She says, a disdainful look on her face at B/f/n's disheveled hair and makeup-stained face. Good Lord, she must've been really drunk last night- she didn't even get ready for bed; she slept in her undergarments, her dress haphazardly tossed onto the seat...the seat where Jungkook sat last. You shake your head, trying to get the image of him out. You don't want to spend a second more thinking about him than you have to.

You both drag your feet around the room, lazily getting ready; you throw on a pair of light blue jeans and a nice sweater, adorning yourself with a nice simple silver necklace and small silver hoops. You can't be bothered with frivolous decoration; not when your heart is in shambles. B/f/n, on the other hand, has scrutinized every single piece of her breakfast outfit, as she hasn't shut up about Namjoon all morning. "Y/n...you okay?" Her questions comes as a bit of a surprise, "Yeah, why?" "You just seem really quiet this morning," She shrugs. "Oh, yeah- my head's just hurting a little bit, that's why." "Oh right, the concussion," She says, leaning into the mirror to put on her last bit of lipstick before you all leave together. "Yeah, the concussion." Good timing of that concussion; you might not have known what other excuse to use, otherwise.

"F/n," Mr.Jeon greets your dad with a bow and a warm hug, and Mrs.Jeon follows suit with your mother, and then with you. Jungkook tries to smile, though you try to look at him very minimally. Of course, you're careful to keep your tone polite and cordial. No use in making a fuss in front of your parents. Everyone sits down, including B/f/n and Namjoon who are sat next to each other, leaving just you and Jungkook to take your spots. You clear your throat as you both settle into your spots. You're sat so close, you can feel his body warmth.

"We're so happy you're all here," Mrs.Jeon says. "Ugh, us too. We've wanted to visit for so long and just haven't had the chance to." "Well, what better time than the present, right? Especially now that our two kids are entering into the most holy covenant," Mr.Jeon cuts in, throwing his heavy arm on Jungkook's shoulder. Jungkook is taller than both his parents, but he always manages to look so much smaller than them. "Of couse- we're so happy for you two," Your dad says, looking over at you. You completely avoid eye-contact with everyone, opting to bow instead. Jungkook does the same. "Now, let's talk wedding!" "Oh yes- so, I was thinking of an elegant forest theme. Maybe like uhm- what was that movie, honey? The one with the monsters?" Your mom asks, turning in your direction. "Twilight." "Yes! That's the one- have you seen that movie?" "No, I don't think I have," Mrs.Jeon responds. "Oh it's really good, we'll make time. Anyway, there's this wedding scene-" They go on about the planning, and then it's like everyone goes off into their own world; your fathers, B/f/n and Namjoon, and then there's just the two of you. It so often happens this way. The world just dances in circles around you and you both just have to sit there and wait for the spinning to stop.

"How...how are you?" Jungkook asks, palms already sweating. You make him nervous. "I'm fine, thank you. Did you...get home alright?" "Yeah. Well, it was raining pretty hard so I just crashed in one of the suites." "Oh, right..." You take a sip of your water. "I'm sorry about how things went last night, Y/n. And about the night of the party-" "It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Nothing to be sorry about," You finally look at him- really really look at him- and you notice the bags under his eyes. The tired expression on his face. Even so, he's so handsome... "We just gotta get through this, okay?" You say before going back to avoiding his eyes again. "Alright..." "Okay, yeah I think four weeks should be good." "Me too- might be a tight schedule from now until then but the sooner the better right?" Mrs.Jeon says in agreement with your mother. You and Jungkook snap your heads in their direction. Only a month? So soon? "Will that be enough time?" You ask. "Oh, of course. We'll have it here at the hotel," She reassures, "Only our closest family and friends on both sides and a nice, intimate reception." You and Jungkook both exchange a quick glance. "That's...soon." Jungkook breathes. "Well, honey- no one here is getting any younger, so." It's interesting how this is supposed to be yours and Jungkook's wedding, but no one has even asked for a single opinion from either of you. Not a color request, favorite flower, flavor of cake... Though maybe that's better- it'll make it easier to...dissociate from it all. "What are we even doing here?" Jungkook mutters, though as per usual, you're the only one to notice.

"Okay, so the groomsmen will be Seokjin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, and...Felix," Mrs.Jeon sips on her coffee, eyes glued to a small notebook she's showing your mom, "Do you have your bridesmaids in mind?" She asks you. You shruh, "Uh yeah, B/f/n is my maid of honor and a few friends from college will be my court- although, we don't have a fifth." "Oh, that won't do..." She mutters, deep in thought, "Aha! Jungkook, why don't you ask Lisa to fill the spot?" Jungkook looks at you and then back at his mom. You're much too stunned at that suggestion to even react- surely she knows Jungkook snd Lisa were together at one point, right? And if she does, why suggest her? Of all people? "Uh, no. I don't think that's a good idea- she doesn't even know Y/n." "No, but she knows you. Come on, she's your best friend- I'm sure she wouldn't mind." "Seriously mom, I'll just remove Felix. It's not a problem, he'll understand." "Jungkook, don't be ridiculous. Just ask Lisa." "But mom-" "Jungkook." Her stern tone makes both you and Jungkook shrink. This is your nightmare.

You're practically catatonic for the rest of breakfast; your mind far removed from your present suffering. In fact, B/f/n has to tap you on your shoulder for you to even realize everyone is standing and ready to go. You feel trapped. Utterly and hopelessly stuck, and all you can do is just wait for it to pass. All of it. "Thank you so much for breakfast, it was lovely," Your mom says, hugging Mrs.Jeon. Your fathers shake hands and B/f/n gives Namjoon a "casual" hug. While they all say their goodbyes, Jungkook steps closer to you. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I'll try to talk her out of picking Lisa. I'll- I'll look for someone else." "Don't bother," You say, your voice like a flat line. "What? Why?" "Because none of it matters anyway." "What are you talking about, of course it matters," He says, looking into your eyes and trying so hard to connect with you- but you're not here. You're somewhere else- somewhere so deep within yourself that nothing can bring you out. "Good bye, Jungkook."

You're quiet on the ride home, though no one seems to notice. When you get up to the room, all you have the strength to do is throw your clothes on the floor and crawl into bed. You've felt a sort of...stuckness all your life; unable to really move forward or backward- but right now, you feel the most stuck that you've felt in years. Barely able breath. How will you be able to pull this off? You've only just truly realized that you're marrying someone you know nothing about...

How do you know he won't just go running around behind your back at the drop of Lisa's hat? Could you really handle that? "Y/n..." B/f/n's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you turn to look at her, "Hm?" "What's going on?" "With...what?" "You've been weird since we saw you at the hospital yesterday. I thought it was because you were just tired or something but I don't think that's the case anymore." "I-I don't think I know what you mean." "Y/n, come on. Just tell me. I came all the way here for you. I wanna help." You chew your bottom lip for a long while, though she doesn't waver; she leans back on the dresser that thee TV is sitting on. She's never been one to back down. "The other night at his birthday party...I couldn't find him. I waited for a long time and...there's this girl. Her name is Lisa- I'd noticed her picture on his Instagram during my first night here in Seoul. At the time I didn't really care- I was curious to know more but I didn't wanna ask because it was a pretty old picture. When we went to dinner, I asked him about her and he got all weird and said she was just a friend. And then at the party, I just asked Namjoon flat out." "And...?" "He's been in love with her for years and they dated for a while...and she dumped him." "She dumped him? Oh God," She lightly slaps her forehead. You both know exactly what that could mean. Your eyes start to water, "Yeah...apparently he wasn't mature enough for her, so she dumped him. But the problem is that later on, I went to the bathroom and I heard her and her friend talking about the whole situation. She said that she didn't care about our arrangement and that she could have him whenever she wanted after he inherits the company." "That bitch," She hisses, "Why didn't you tell him?" "I was going to but then I saw him dancing with her. I saw them with my own two eyes- she was laughing all hard and they looked like- like..." You look down, "Like a real couple."

"And then last night after you left, I got ready and was gonna go to the banquet but then he came and I let him in and... I tried to tell him about Lisa but he just defended her. He doesn't want to hear what I have to say about her..." The tears are gently dropping from your eyes now, and you don't even try to wipe them, "So, I told him that we'd just act like what we are- business partners and nothing more. Clearly that's what he wants anyway. His heart is still with her and it was completely pointless and stupid of me to think otherwise." "Y/n..." B/f/n's voice is soft as she walks over to sit next to you, "I'm so sorry..." The softness in her voice coaxes for your tears to finally spill over. "What are you gonna do?" "What can I do? It's clear that all that's expected of me is to just sit there and let everyone else decide for me and him." "It did seem like everyone was just making decisions..." She agrees. "Yup..." You sit in silence for a moment, just mulling over those odd moments at dinner.

You look around the room: items of clothing litter the floor of your room, the desk on the opposite wall is full of papers from when you were going over the contract... "I need some air." "Okay, want me to open the window?" "No, I mean- I mean I need to go home." "...home? Like HOME home?" "Yes. I need to get out of here. It's too much." "Oh- Okay, I suppose I can get myself packed up again so we can leave tonight-" "No, don't be silly. I can go back alone." "Y/n, come on it's not a big deal. I wanna be there for you-" "B/f/n, no. You came here to have a good time and I want you to enjoy your time." "But how can I enjoy my time without you?" She asks, her face contorting into a pout. "Oh, I can think of quite a few ways," You smirk, causing her to blush. "What are you implying, Ms.L/n?" "Oh come on...Namjoon's pretty handsome, isn't he?" "I hadn't really noticed," She lies, a smile spreading across her face. "Whatever," You chuckle, though it quickly fades as you mentally return to the original subject, "I just need air..."

"It's only for two weeks," You say, leaning back in your chair. "But I don't understand why, Y/n," Your mom says exasperatedly, "We only just got here." "You can't just leave us and B/f/n twiddling our thumbs here in Seoul while you're off doing God-knows-what," Your dad says sternly. You let out a deep breath, "Oh trust me, there will be no sitting around- mom and Mrs.Jeon are already going at top speed planning everything. You hardly even need me here- and B/f/n knows already and she's supportive of my decision. She'll be perfectly fine." Your dad remains in pensive silence, though your mom continues in protest, "You're the bride, for crying out loud. How can we plan it without you?" "I'm sure you'll manage," You say with an eyeroll. At this point, your mom's just finding reasons for you not to go. "Y/n-" "Mom...You know I wouldn't be doing any of this if it weren't because I really need it. I need to clear my head, I need to get myself mentally prepared." "Mentally prepared for what!?" "M/n," Your dad gently rests his hand on her shoulder, "Honey..." Immediately, your mom is quiet. Your dad turns to you, "If you feel like this is something you really need to do then...go. We'll be here." Instantly, it was like a weight lifted off of your shoulders. "We'll tell the Jeons at dinner tonight. You get two weeks and that's it." "Yes, of course." You lean over and hug your dad, "Thank you."

You sit anxiously at the dinner table, looking around at everyone sat inside the restaurant- it's the only way to keep yourself from staring at the doorway. You'd all arrived to the restaurant a bit earlier than the Jeons. Both your parents are on their phones, checking emails, you assume. B/f/n leans over, "You okay?" She's always been able to read you like a book....or maybe you've just always been bad at hiding how you feel. You nod, "Yeah...I just need to get it over with." A few minutes go by (though, of course, it feels like an eternity), and the Jeons finally arrive. "So sorry we're late," Mrs.Jeon says with a bow. "Oh, don't worry about it." The parents all greet each other, and finally, you get a full look at Jungkook... even in your anger, he somehow manages to make your heart flutter.

Food and drinks have been served and everyone is in conversation again, much like they'd been at breakfast. Jungkook sits there quietly, occasionally bringing his glass of wine up to his lips to take a sip, his fork stabbing into bits of food that never actually gets eaten. He's mentally absent and you can't blame him, as you're feeling quite the same way. Or at least, you would be if you weren't so nervous about bringing up your trip. You glance at B/f/n, who looks back at you, giving you a soft and reassuring smile. Alright, it's now or never.

"Uhm, I have something I'd like to share with the table," You pipe up. Everyone immediately stops their conversations to give you the floor, including Jungkook, who is looking at you for the first time tonight. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you practically feel your face burning under Jungkook's gaze. You clear your throat, "So, I have some things I need to wrap up back at home and with the wedding so close, I think it's best to go back and take care of that and then come back in time for...everything." The silence remains as Jungkook's parents exchange glances between themselves and your parents. Jungkook, however, stays staring at you. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, but he definitely doesn't look pleased. "But there's...so much that needs to be done," Mrs.Jeon says gently, clearly quite confused. "I know but you and my mom seem to have everything pretty much covered. I trust you both to do a fine job." "But the fittings for the dress," She adds. You nod, "I can send my measurements to you and come back to do the alterations later."

"Jungkook?" Mrs.Jeon turns to her son, who has yet to say a single word. "She says she's got things to do, let her do it," He says dryly. Mr.Jeon furrows his brows at him, clearly annoyed by his callousness. "Look, it's just a short trip. Everything's fine, Jungkook and I are fine," You lie, though they seem to buy it, "and we'll continue to be fine. When I come back, we'll have the wedding and it's smooth sailing from there." "Well, alright then. We'll take care of everything," Mrs.Jeon smiles, lifting her glass. You pick yours up and tilt it toward her, "I know you will."

From there, the conversation picks back up and it's as though you'd said nothing at all. Before you know it, dinner's over and you're all on your way out the door and on your way home...well, not home...not yet.

When you and B/f/n get back to the room, you both debrief for a bit as you get ready for bed, peeling and cleansing away the day from your skin- if only there was a similar process for the mind. Jungkook didn't say anything to you after dinner, not even a goodbye, and maybe that's for the best. No need to make anything more difficult and once you're back home, you'll find some clarity about the situation.

You try closing your eyes but you can't will yourself to sleep. Soft moonlight spills in through the open curtain, drawing a series of straight lines across the walls- the frames of the tall windows to the balcony. If it weren't for B/f/n's gentle breaths, you'd swear you were completely alone right now...not just in this room but even in the whole world. Your mind can't even conceive people existing beyond these four walls. Not tonight.

That is, until you hear your phone softly vibrate against the nightstand. You squint your eyes against the harsh light, quickly unlocking it when you realize it's a text from Jungkook.

𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔: 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔.

You're frozen for a minute, your eyes stuck on the text message as you debate on whether or not to go. Why should you? He said absolutely nothing at dinner and now he wants to talk so he expects you to just come to him? Screw him.

You slowly walk into the bar, your mind in complete opposition to the fact that your body walked you down here to meet up with Jungkook. Your heart is beating and your legs feel like Jell-O as you walk over to where you see him sitting. He's leaned back in his seat, staring at the glass in his hand as he whirls the contents around and around gently. "Hey," You say, your voice small and mousey. You wish you could act nonchalant but you really just don't have the energy to keep masking your feelings.

"Hey," He says, his voice equally small. You sit down next to him and motion for the bartender to get you the same as Jungkook. Silence lingers in the air between you for a few more minutes, though it's not exactly awkward. It's more of a...pensive silence. Neither of you knows what to say, you suppose. Best to stay quiet until you've sorted yourself out.

"Why did you come down?" He finally breaks the silence. You furrow your eyebrows, "What?" "You heard me. Why did you come down?" "Because you asked me to?" You say, annoyed at his tone. "That's it? That's the only reason?" "Is there something else you want to hear?" You look at him, crossing your arms over your body. He shakes his head, "No. Just curious..." "Jungkook, what is this? Why'd you ask me to come?" "Because I wanted to see you, Y/n."

His answer makes your cheeks heat up and you quickly turn your attention to the glass that the bartender just sat down in front of you. Another long silence, though this time, your mind is racing for what to say, "Well, I'm here." "Not for long." "Jungook, I don't really understand you...I don't get what game you're playing." "Game? What game?" "At first, you're a complete asshole to me, then you say you're willing to give this a chance, then you're defending this girl who, by the way, was saying some really nasty things about you on your birthday. Are you still in love with her? Because I'd like to know about if you are." "I'm not..." "Very convincing," You roll your eyes, "I don't even know why I'm here if you're not gonna be honest with me." You abruptly hop off the bar stool and start walking out. This was a mistake.

As you've only just made your way out of the bar room, you feel a hand wrap around your bicep, gently pulling you back, "Y/n." You turn to see Jungkook there, a solemn expression on his face as he begs, "Don't go." "Jungkook, all I want is the truth. I'm...I'm still going to marry you, regardless of what the truth is. I'll- I'll still go through with it...all of it. I just don't want to be the only one in the dark about how you feel." He shakes his head, "There's nothing to tell, Y/n. All of it is done and over with. Please believe me." He lets go of your arm and instead, reaches for your hand. His gentle grasp makes you your body relax a bit, "I don't want you to go." You don't acknowledge what he's just said. You didn't even take a single sip of your drink at the bar and yet, you feel as though your head is spinning. Emotions are whirling in your heart and when you notice more people passing by the both of you to get inside the bar, all you can think about is how much you just want to get out of the hallway. "Can we talk somewhere more private, please?" "Alright," He says, immediately looking left to right as he thinks of where to go. "Come on," He says, pulling you gently behind him and leading you into the elevator.

The elevator ride is quiet, the both of you stuck in thought- the only sound is the loud ding of the elevator with every passing floor. Finally, the doors open up and he takes you down the hall and around the corner to a room. "Are you okay if we talk in here?" He asks right before sliding the key card in. You nod, "Yeah, that's fine." He swipes the card and opens it up to a big room- much bigger than yours. It's decorated similarly to yours, though it has more pieces of furniture, as well as a small kitchenette and a bar of its own. "Wow...this is nice." "Yeah, we don't really rent this one out since it's a little outdated. I'm the only one who uses this place regularly," He says, tossing the key card onto the counter. He motions for you to sit on the small couch in the living room area, and then he walks over to the bar, "Beer?" "Sure." He walks back to you, handing you the chilled bottle with the cap already off and sits down, leaving just around two feet between the both of you.

You take a sip of your beer, grimacing slightly at the pissy taste. You've never been a beer person but you need something to calm your nerves. "I'm scared too, you know..." He says in a low voice. "Of...what?" "A lot of things...what if we get married and you regret it? What if I screw this all up and it all goes to shit. No marriage, no company, nothing left..." "I'll be there with you. You don't need to carry it all on your shouldrs." "In theory, I know you're right. I know I don't have to...but I've been living with this for years. That's why I was initially so resistant to all of this," He says, motioning to you and himself, "I was in a loop of self-sabotage for so long...it's hard to embrace a good thing." "I can understand that...but if you don't break that loop, how is anyone gonna be able to come in?" "Some times I feel like I'm too ruined to not mess it up again later." "Well, let's say you do screw up again, I don't think you could screw things up that badly." He snorts, "I already almost have a few times...don't have too much faith in me." "You talking about the rehab?" You ask. He tilts his head at you, momentarily stuck on the fact that you knew about that, "Ah, I see Namjoon's been filling you in." He nods bitterly, taking a swig of his beer. "Only because you wouldn't." "Y/n, that's not exactly small talk." "I don't want small talk..." You're not sure what comes over you to cause you to do this, but you reach over and lift his head up so that he's fully looking at you, "I want to know the man I'm marrying."

For a moment, you both sit there staring at each other. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and you notice his chest heaving slightly, his breathing picking up as well. In this moment, you know you both feel it. That thick tension that's been lingering in the air from the moment you first looked at each other- anger, curiosity, bitterness, longing- it's here in this room right now. Every logical thought your mind would normally throw at you to stop you from indulging, is completely crushed under this desire...the desire to know one another fully. Somehow, the two-foot space has closed to an inch. So close, you can feel the heat radiating off of his face and onto yours; his eyes almost completely closed. He's ready...are you?

A/N: Sorry that this installment took so incredibly long. I had a lot going on in my personal life so this story sat untouched in my drafts for a long time. Hope you all enjoy! And don't be shy, send me what you wanna see happen with Jungkook + Y/n later on in our story <3

[possibilistfanfiction]

Prompt for your little Hallmark AU: Christmas market (You know, those markets where there are booths who sell Glühwein and Punsch, Im not sure how to correctly translate it in English in Austria we call it Christkindlmarkt)

it’s grey outside, the clouds heavy but not quite snowing yet; it’s warmer than it’s been on clearer days, still cold but almost pleasant, and quiet.

you make sure to give yourself extra time to do your stretches in the morning after you go to camila’s to get breakfast. the atmospheric pressure of the incoming storm is, unsurprisingly, causing your back to ache, but that’s not new and it doesn’t really faze you at this point. if things get bad enough — and they do, sometimes — you just reschedule your plans and take pain meds and muscle relaxers from dr salvius after you do your physical therapy exercises. but your hands don’t ache and you don’t have any numbness in your feet, your temperature is normal, and so you go through your routine and feel better by the end of it.

beatrice picks you up at eleven on the dot, as she confirmed twice over text the evening before with perfect punctuation that made you feel a little bit like you were in trouble but was charming anyway. 

‘hey stranger,’ you say when she knocks on your door, and she blushes and smiles and you’re delighted by the effect you have on her, almost immediately — this exceedingly smart and competent person stumbling over herself the second you smile. it makes you feel powerful and it also makes you want to treat her kindly, to make her laugh.

‘good morning, ava.’ she fidgets, for a moment, and you’re curious why you’re not just going to her truck, but then she takes a hand out of the pocket of her peacoat and opens her palm. ‘i, uh, i noticed your cane was getting stuck in the snow.’

‘oh.’ your first instinct is to be embarrassed, eleven years of abuse rearing its ugly, awful head, but then you look at what she’s actually holding.

‘i already had it,’ she explains, slightly rushed like she’s trying to make sure you’re not upset, like it was just a thoughtful aside of hers. ‘i tore my acl a few years ago and used both on my crutches, and so, i just figured, well… if it doesn’t work, that’s fine, but maybe worth a try?’

you take the winter cane tip attachment from her outstretched hand and it really does feel like some kind of offering for a moment. it’s nice, the crampon itself retractable, and easy enough to put on your cane. when you try it outside the door on the way to her truck, you can’t help but smile, remember a little bit of the joy that first came with movement as you started receiving proper care and accessibility and mobility aids. you don’t take healing for granted, even now. ’thank you,’ you tell her as she unlocks her truck and goes around to the driver’s side. 

she nods. ‘like i said, i already had it sitting around. not a problem at all.’

‘still,’ you say, climbing up and twisting around to greet a suddenly very excited theo in her kennel strapped into the backseat. ‘not many people have been particularly thoughtful in my life, especially not at this.’

she frowns at your admission, her jaw clenching, her face stormy. she’s handsome in her rich maroon scarf and camel wool coat, careful hands on the wheel.

‘anyway,’ you say, a little overcome, ‘how’d you tear your acl?’

she immediately reddens, pulling out of the driveway and trying to act like she’s concentrating very hard on her turn signal to merge onto the completely empty road. 

‘bea, please.’

she sighs, refusing to look at you even at the red light. ‘i was training with theo,’ she says.

‘that’s not horribly embarrassing on its own.’ you grin. ‘there’s got to be more to it.’

‘fine,’ she says, mostly just to humor you, you’re pretty sure. ‘she was small, and we were both learning how to herd. i, well — i tripped over one of the sheep.’

you wait a beat to picture it and then laugh, not unkindly but without any remorse. ‘thank you truly so much for telling me.’

she rolls her eyes. ‘you’re so welcome,’ she says flatly, and you laugh again.

/

you’re confused if your little outing to the christmas market is a date or not for the two minutes it takes for beatrice to park the car, get the small pack holding treats that she carries around for theo buckled around her waist — a little nerdy and totally adorable — and then letting theo out of the kennel. she’s in a little green coat, the same as the other day, and it kind of makes you feel like you’re going to scream, she’s so cute. she greets you fully now, with happy little wiggles, and then situates herself at beatrice’s side. she has a leash connected to her harness, the other half slung over beatrice’s shoulder and across her chest so her hands are free; you think theo doesn’t need it at all, but beatrice explains, ‘in crowded public access areas, it’s appropriate.’ theo, for her part, is busy sniffing a few treats beatrice scattered around her feet in the snow, and then she smiles at you and gestures to head inside.

you’re confused no longer when you see camila’s booth, advertising hot chocolate, apple cider, and egg nog, and she whistles. ‘beatrice, you look so nice with your fancy jacket.’

beatrice glares. 

camila turns to face you fully, a smirk on her face. ‘she never wears that unless it’s a special occasion.’

you can’t help yourself: ‘well, i am a special occasion, if i do say so myself.’

’no one else is saying it,’ lilith grumbles from her seat behind camila, and beatrice fights a laugh while you pout.

‘you look nice too, ava,’ camila says, keeping the peace as you’ve quickly figured out she always does. 

you preen a little, just for the fun of it. ‘why thank you. i love your sweater.’

camila looks down at her jesus was palestinian sweater. ‘’tis the season and all that.’ she beams at you, then beatrice. ‘well, what can i get you both on this romantic outing?’

beatrice sighs in defeat but you grin and look at the menu. ‘well, i’m on vacation and bea picked me up—‘ camila perks up even more at this— ‘so i’m going to do your bailey’s hot chocolate.’

‘i’ll have a cider,’ bea says, and you shoo away her attempt to pay for things, which brings a blush back to her cheeks when you tap your card with a pointed flourish. 

you go through the market with your warm drinks, your cane not sinking into the snow as it had been the past few days, making everything easier, simpler, less nervous with every step. once you have half of your hot chocolate, you lean into beatrice with a smile, and she offers her arm, all clove and pine and her soft scarf. there are booths with ornaments, knitted coasters; you convince her to buy a pretty wreath for the front door of her cabin, which you kind of hope she’ll invite you to see.

it starts to snow when you’re about to leave, the sky darkening early, and she feed theo a few treats before she situates her in the kennel. 

it’s quiet when she starts the truck, and she seems nervous, her hands white knuckled around the steering wheel. ‘i apologize if i was presumptuous.’

you soften. ‘that was a really wonderful date, bea. you can be as presumptuous as you want.’

her smile is shy, bathed in the waning light. ‘well, in that case, would you like to come to my house for dinner?’

‘yes, obviously.’

 she laughs. ‘alright then.’

[caesariawritesstuff]

For the 50 follower ask thingy:

Prompt: "If you want me, you have to want all of me."

With Edward and Detective with gender neutral POV for the detective. Please and thank you. :3

Wanting

Summary: A fight with Edward leads him to tell you the most important thing of all.

Word Count: 663

A/N: This fic is currently not canon to the official Cat&Mouse!Verse storyline. Thank you anon for requesting this fic, and I hope you enjoy!

Edward stared across from you, his eyes never leaving your face. Your gaze was dropped low, staring at the cup of coffee in your hands. All around, the coffee shop was busy and alive with the sound of chatter and high spirits. The smell of bitter coffee beans and sugary sweet syrup floated on the air. He leaned back slightly, before reaching for his own mug and taking a long sip, relishing in the flavor on his tongue.

“You wanted to meet?” he finally asked you when you didn’t respond.

You nodded, looking back up at him, but you said nothing, opening your mouth as if to speak, but no words have come out. Edward regarded you with a slow, careful gaze, his eyes studying every inch of your face. It was only last night that you and he had gotten into a heated argument over the state of your relationship, and where it stood. Even he wasn’t entirely sure where it was at this point – and it bothered him greatly. He knew what he wanted.

But what did you want?

You met his eyes finally, and he noticed your throat bob with nerves. Finally, you said, “Edward…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for last night to happen.”

He raised his brows. “You know, detective, I’ve made myself and my feelings quite clear about how I feel about you. And I’m sick of hiding it.” A bolt of frustrated anger rushed through his veins. You and he had been dancing this same routine over and over for weeks now.

You looked away again, biting your bottom lip. “I know. I’m sorry. I just…I know what you want. And I want it too, Edward, but…”

“But it’s me, remember?” he answered for you. You’d made yourself just as clear last night: the very reason you could not commit to him was because of your fears of who he was. Because you feared being judged, whispered about, ostracized from the rest of the GCPD. Fears, which, in his opinion, you needed to get over, because people were going to talk no matter what, and he was far above listening to the opinions of sheep.

You shifted in your seat, not looking at him, your gaze falling back to your mug. “We’ve been through a lot, together, Edward. And you’ve done so much for me. But it’s just…”

Edward leaned back, frowning, his eyes narrowing into slits. He knew he had blood on his hands. He knew he’d done so many things, that his past was tainted. But hadn’t he proved himself? Hadn’t he done his best to prove he was capable of reform? He’d bent over backwards to prove himself to you, and he was not interested in giving up – but even he was growing frustrated with your lack of conviction towards this relationship.

Finally, Edward finished his drink and said, “Detective…if you want me, you have to want all of me. Not like I have any faults, of course, but you have to take me for all that I am, and all of my genius and brilliance.” He smirked.

You smirked back, but he held his breath and waited for your next words – words that made his heart tighten in his chest when you finally said those magic words. The words he’d been so desperate to hear for weeks.

“I want you, Edward Nigma,” you finally said. “All of you. Every part of you.”

His smirk grew into a genuine smile. “I knew you’d come to your senses eventually.”

You laughed, the sound like music to his ears, and for a moment, the world faded away to just you and him and the words you’d spoke. It felt like a dream, one he never wanted to wake up from. And for the first time in a very long time, Edward Nigma felt a happiness he hadn’t felt in years. He was at peace – and he never wanted to feel the chaos in his mind again.

[newtonsheffield]

Ooh, can we please get Newton Thoughts on him thinking he's running the whole damn farm and how did anything get done before he got there? He looks at Anthony like, "OK, Mum and I have to go to London. Please don't undo all my hard work while we're gone."

Oh my god, imagine

Here’s some Newton thoughts™️

Newton sighed as he looked over at Katie’s mate, shaking his head. Anthony was a very nice man, he really was. Newton had been curious about him since Katie had lain on their old bed with him and sighed,

“Okay, it’s silly because he lives really far away but I really like him, Buddy.”

Newton had no idea who he was but he was a curious, so he nudged her with his nose to go on.

“I… really want to meet him in person but he hasn’t asked me and… you know what, I’m going to do it. I’m going to pretend I have a reason to go to Kent and I’ll ask him to meet me and we’ll just… rip off the bandaid.”

Newton nestled against her neck in support.

He was feeling a little less supportive when he was unceremoniously dumped at Eddie and Goosey’s. With only his travel bed to sleep on, and a handful of toys. He’d tried giving Katie the cold shoulder when she came to pick him up on Sunday night, smelling completely unlike herself. He sniffed delicately at her as she bundled him into the car and huffed as he smelled the masculine scent clinging to her.

So the meeting with her new mate had gone well. Interesting.

“Newton, he was so sweet!” Kate said on the way home, “I had the best time with him. I think me and Anthony could really be something. And! Get excited, little guy, we’re going to the country next weekend and you’ll get to run around the farm with the sheep. That’ll be fun.”

Newton huffed, trying not to sound too interested in case Katie got the idea that he’d be moving to a farm of all places.

But as the week had worn on Katie had sounded so happy every time Anthony had called her and truly: by the time Friday came around he’d been desperate to see this Anthony. Curious about what had gotten Katie so enamoured with him.

He’d sat in his car seat and watched the grass roll by, a little mournful that he wouldn’t be able to chase his favourite squirrel tomorrow morning. But he supposed if this Anthony had a farm, as he’d been promised, there might be one there. From the second they arrived Newton felt excitement building in his chest as Kate let him out, the grass soft under his paws, the air filled with so many smells.

A man stepped forward, waving to Kate a little nervously, “Kate, Hi! You made it!”

“Hey, Babe.” Kate wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close and Newton averted his eyes.

“This must be Newton.”

Yes, Newton huffed as Anthony crouched in front of him, scratching behind his ears. Thank you for finally greeting me. Took you long enough.

Anthony smelled nice though, Newton was a little dismayed to notice, and his hands were warm but Newton had gotten immediately distracted by the two pups who had run up behind him. They smelled close to Anthony, but they weren’t his puppies, Newton didn’t think as he licked the girl’s face, giddy at her delighted laughter. He liked the pups. They gave him treats and let them sleep on their beds but even better than the pups were the sheep.

Newton loved that. He loved running around after them and he realised with a sigh that Anthony needed his help if he was going to get this place in order. He seemed absolutely bloody determined to undo Newton’s hard work as quickly as possible. He kept moving the sheep to ridiculous spots around the yard no matter how many times Newton called out to him.

Anthony! No! No! The other way!

And normally, Newton wouldn’t mind doing the most work out of everyone. He was used to being the backbone of the family. But today him and Katie were going back to London for a few days. And he just knew when he got back Anthony would have undone everything.

Newton sighed as he walked up to Anthony, placing his paw on Anthony’s boot.

I know this is hard for you, buddy. But you need to just try and keep things running without me.

“Oh, bud.” Anthony chuckled, “Are you going to miss me?”

Honestly, I’m worried about you. I don’t know how this was a successful venture before I got here. Newton sighed, Just leave the sheep alone, please. I’ll tend to them when I get back.