#speaking of. i just woke up so sorry if this is still a little incomprehensible lmao

[antii-gravity]

just had a dream abt rt being a high school teacher of mine??

So, from what i remember, he had to take a day off for a school thing? so he sent out a little email saying he was gonna be gone but he was gonna stop in to say hi. But for now we had a sub. Apparently dan decided to give us a quiz that day (the bastard) and he ended up popping in to say hi right after we were given said quiz- so he gave us a quiz on a day he wasn’t even there and then immediately distracted us taking it (unbelievable)

did not matter at all to dream me though lmao i just remembered being so excited to see him (for all of two seconds while gave snarky comments on the poetry we were reading and left) anyway the class devolved into chaos almost immediately. which to be fair i’m surprised hadn’t happened sooner. desks and chairs were everywhere, everyone was talking so loudly and moving everything around and i was just sitting in the middle of the room at my perfectly straight desk just like. i miss dan.

anyway rt english teacher au when???

[letsgoletsgetit08]

It's A Trip! Ch. 2

summary: It started off as a joke, the proposition to road trip from the east coast to the west coast for Hongjoong and Seonghwa's wedding, but then Mingi said yes. And Jongho wasn't about to pass up that opportunity.

warnings/tags: mdni!, mxm, smut, recreational drug use, tropes, fluff, light angst, wooyoung is a little shit, jongho is whipped, au non-famous, siri play maknae on top by stray kids

pairing: top!jongho x bottom!mingi

author's note: I couldn't resist the idea of a little stoner road trip situation with unspoken feelings and Wooyoung trying to play matchmaker behind the scenes. Loosely based on the song of the same title by Joywave that got stuck in my head recently and fits the vibes, I think. Anyway. Enjoy!

word count: 21k (around 3.5k per chapter, 6 chapters total)

ao3 link: It's A Trip!

Day Two

Jongho woke up to his alarm at 5am, cold and alone. He wasn't surprised, necessarily, but couldn't help and feel a little sad. It would have been nice to wake up still embracing the man he was harboring a secret crush on. Oh well.

The other three were milling about groggily in the kitchen, Mingi looking incomprehensibly adorable with his hair still sticking up in odd places and face puffy from sleep and too much sodium the night before. 

“I saved you the last cup of coffee.” Mingi told Jongho after noticing him walk in. 

His face was unreadable for once, which was frustrating for Jongho. The fact that Mingi was typically completely incapable of hiding his emotions, his face always a dead giveaway to his thoughts, was something that Jongho admired most about him. He tended to take people very literally otherwise and often found himself confused when peoples’ expressions differed greatly from their words or actions. So the fact that he couldn't tell how Mingi felt in that very moment - their first moment together after spending the night cuddling together in the same bed - led Jongho to two possible conclusions: either Mingi remembered nothing and was being completely normal right now, or he remembered all of it and this was his plea to ignore it and return back to homeostasis. 

Either way, it didn't really matter. Jongho would go along with whatever Mingi wanted, however he wanted to handle it. He wasn't Wooyoung, he wouldn't pry. 

Speaking of the devil, Wooyoung kept casting him fiendish looks over his coffee mug from across the table, raising his eyebrows suggestively, acting as if he was implying he and Mingi had slept together last night or something. Jongho didn't give him the satisfaction of any sort of response. 

Instead, he addressed the room, “I don't mind taking first shift driving again.”

Mingi stood up to wash his now empty coffee mug, “Shotgun!”

Like anyone would ever fight him on that. Jongho didn't think he'd seen Wooyoung and San not touching in some way since they had gotten together during undergrad. 

But when the four of them had packed up and were loading the car, Wooyoung suddenly made a mad dash for the front seat. 

Mingi stared at him incredulously, “What the hell, man!” 

“Oh, did you call the front seat?” Wooyoung was putting on a show of innocence, “Sorry, must not have heard you. Maybe next time just say what you mean to say instead of speaking in code and dancing around the subject.”

Mingi was lost, “Uhhh okay. I mean it's a pretty common phrase but-”

Jongho cut him off, “Wooyoung, move. Mingi called it. If we can't all play by the very basic rules of the road, we shouldn't have gone on a road trip together.”

Wooyoung didn't move, “No. I'm already here. Mingi can sit in the back with San. Can't you Mingi?”

Jongho was getting heated now, “No he can't, he called-” 

San cut them off, “He's not going to give it up, you might as well hop in the back, Mingi.” 

Jongho might have imagined it, but he swore Mingi was pouting when he climbed into the backseat next to San, directly behind Jongho instead of beside him. 

Wooyoung looked entirely too proud of himself. Little shit. 

Wooyoung rode up front all the way from Knoxville to Nashville and Jongho swore it was the longest stent of the trip so far. After getting to be next to Mingi all day and then unexpectedly all night as well, he was annoyed that he wasn’t sitting beside him currently. Once he got a taste of proximity with him again, he wondered how he had stood going so long without it. To make things worse, Wooyoung was yapping the whole way, engaging only Jongho in the conversation to the point where Mingi and San ended up having their own conversations in the backseat. Jongho was almost at his wit’s end, about to pull over early and demand to switch, but then he saw the exit signs start mentioning Nashville and he decided he could wait it out. He had demanded that they stop at Third Man Records in Nashville while they were there. Wooyoung decided to allow it, mostly - so he claimed - because there was a brunch spot nearby that he wanted to try. 

Third Man was even better in person than the pictures Jongho had seen on Instagram. He was having trouble choosing what piece of merch he wanted to buy. Had an even harder time not taking home a whole case of vinyl. Mingi seemed to love it, too. He bounded over to Jongho excitedly, “There’s a recording booth! We can record something and print it on vinyl!”

Jongho recalled what he was talking about from his research he’d done on the place, “Oh, yeah! the Voice-o-Graph, right?”

Mingi nodded, “Yeah, come on let’s go! Sing something with me!” He grabbed Jongo’s wrist and drug him over to the booth. 

The booth wasn’t really built for two people, but they made it work anyway, Mingi practically in Jongho’s lap. 

“Any song come to mind?” Jongo asked him.

Mingi thought about it for a second, “What about… This Must Be the Place by the Talking Heads? I know you know that one. And I maybe also really like it. I kinda missed hearing it when you moved on.”

It was true. Jongho had gone through a bit of a phase with that song at one point. He still stood by it, though. He hadn’t realized Mingi also liked it so much though. The thought made his chest bloom, head feeling pleasantly fuzzy. 

Mingi started them off, Jongho joining in on the second stanza. Mingi had been avoiding Jongho’s eyes until he got to the pre-chorus:

“…And you’re standing here beside me

I love the passing of time”

Where he looked straight into the depths of his soul, it seemed. 

Jongho had forgotten just how romantic the song was, which was probably why he had been so hung up on it at one point. He realized now, singing it with Mingi, making him know he meant it when he sang,

“You’ve got a face with a view”

that he had always thought of Mingi when it came to this song. 

He had been in love with him for years. Just didn’t know it. Because he had nothing else to compare it to. He thought he had just preferred Mingi to his other friends, but now that he had tried dating, and was getting to be around Mingi again, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was in love.

Fuck. 

Fuck.

They finished the song out and Mingi’s face had ended up so close to Jongho’s that it wouldn’t take very much at all to close the gap and land his lips on Mingi’s. Mingi’s eyelids fluttered for a second, his breath shallow from exertion. Probably from exertion. Not from desire. Surely. 

The booth door opened abruptly, revealing an all too pleased Wooyoung, “Bravo! You two successfully cleared out the whole building with that performance.”

They knew he was lying, all of them had gone to music school together, they were all good singers. Which meant that Wooyoung was doing it to be a nuisance. Jongho gave him a murderous look, which was met with a completely innocent expression from the other. Oh he’d be having words with him later. 

Mingi wasn’t as bothered, just moved back into his own space and said, “Jongho, you need to let me produce an album for you. You promised you’d think about it! Your voice is too good to just be teaching.”

Jongho tried to hide his smile but was unsuccessful. He was very proud of his voice and getting a compliment from Mingi meant everything to him. 

“I’ll think about it.” He told him. 

They collected their vinyl once it was finished pressing and checked out with their souvenirs. Jongho couldn’t wait to listen to their recording on his record player. He had a feeling it was about to become his very favorite. 

They shouldn’t have been surprised that Wooyoung was taking them to drag brunch, really. He had gone through a Drag Race obsession back in undergrad. It was more surprising that he had chosen something that would be this big of a time sink. 

But Jongho had to admit, it was a good time. The queens loved Mingi and San, kept choosing them out of the crowd to stand up and dance with them or to serenade them. They were embarrassed but were good sports about it. Jongho and Wooyoung took video for the group chat - the guys ate it up. 

Jongho couldn’t but feel a pang of jealousy as San sat back down beside Wooyoung and the latter was able to kiss him on the cheek, secure in him being his. Jongho couldn’t do the same with Mingi. But he wanted to. He wanted everyone there to know who he belonged to. And he truly had never thought of himself as possessive, but now that he had realized his feelings for Mingi, he was getting stronger and stronger urges to confess. Tell him how he felt. Ideally, he felt the same. But if not, at least then he could start moving forward, moving on. He was sure even if Mingi didn’t return his feelings, that they could figure out how to be friends again. Maybe not immediately, but at some point. But would their friendship ever be truly the same? That’s what worried him the most. That, and rejection was also terrifying. 

He needed more time to think on it. 

He beat Wooyoung to the front seat as Mingi hopped into the driver’s seat. Really, he probably wouldn’t have tried again, but Jongho wasn’t going to take any chances. 

Now that they were fed and caffeinated, the few hours to Memphis was full of car games that Wooyoung seemed to be making up half of on the spot. 

“Someone picks a song and we go around picking a new song where the title of the next song starts with the last word of the title of the song before it. Like if I started with Closing Time, then maybe San would choose Time to Pretend. Understand?”

Mingi had a vast music taste and kept winning because he kept picking song titles with weird esoteric words in them that no one could find a song to follow. 

Jongho won several rounds of twenty questions.

Wooyoung kept winning the alphabet game, but the others were convinced he was cheating. “I saw that sign, too, Wooyo, there’s no word that starts with ‘X’ on there!” Mingi had protested. It was no use. Wooyoung doubled down until they all gave in. 

San found a Mad Libs app on his phone and they had fun filling in the blanks with the most immature word choices they could think of.

Before they knew it, they were seeing signs for Memphis. 

“Anyone hungry yet?” Mingi asked.

“Uhh not really.” Jongho replied.

Wooyoung and San agreed. They had no room for Memphis barbeque. Maybe on the way back. 

They stopped at a gas station in not the best area of town, grabbed snacks for the road, switched drivers, (landing Mingi and Jongo in the backseat together again) and got the hell out of there. Marveled at the giant Bass Pro Shop pyramid on their way out. 

Goodbye, Tennessee.

Hello, Arkansas. 

The first half of Arkansas was boring and ugly. They stopped in Little Rock to switch drivers for the last time that night, and this time it was Jongho who cornered Wooyoung in the bathroom. 

“What the hell, man?” He asked him incredulously.

Wooyoung smiled smugly, “What the hell, what?”

“What have you been on about, Wooyoung? You knew Mingi wanted shotgun earlier!” He whisper-yelled at him.

Wooyoung shrugged, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

Jongho sighed, exasperated, “We’ve had distance! Plenty of it! For years!”

“Yeah but,” he laughed, “think about how pissed you are about it right now. I bet Mingi was feeling the same way.”

“You make no sense to me.” Jongho said flatly before pushing past him and back outside. 

After stopping for the last time of the night, as they entered northwest Arkansas, the scenery got much better. Mingi had pulled out his wired earbuds that time and offered one to Jongho so they could listen to music together. Leaning towards each other across the cup holder fold-out. Getting sleepy with the silence in the car. Jongho’s head kept slipping out of his hand. Mingi nudged him and patted his shoulder. Jongho felt butterflies stir in his stomach again as he leaned over and rested his head there on Mingi’s broad shoulder. Mingi rested his head on top of Jongho’s. Listening to Billie Holiday’s self-titled album. It was peaceful. Intimate. Jongho could spend an eternity doing exactly that. 

He awoke to the car turning off, parked behind what he assumed to be the inn Wooyoung had booked. It was a cool old light yellow house called Dickson Street Inn. 

Wooyoung had neglected to mention that it was a popular place for couples to stay on their wedding nights. All the rooms were singles. He would be sharing a bed with Mingi. Again. 

It’s not that he wasn’t excited, it’s just that it made him nervous. 

They made plans to meet back out by the car in an hour to go find a bite to eat and then hit the town.

Was it smart to go out the night before another full day of driving? Probably not. Were they going to do it anyway? Of course they were. It was the week of Halloween and they were in a college town. They intended to make the most of it.

“Is eyeliner too much?” Mingi called from the bathroom where he was getting ready for the night, door cracked open so that he and Jongho could talk from the other’s position on the bed. 

“I say no. It’s Halloweek. And I really enjoyed your emo phase.” Jongho chided him.

Mingi’s head popped around the corner, “What if I still haven’t learned how to do it, though?”

Jongho laughed, “Want some help?”

“Please?” Mingi asked, sticking his bottom lip out.

Jongho shook his head, gathered himself off the bed, and walked into the bathroom to take the eyeliner pencil out of Mingi’s hand. 

“Hop up,” he instructed, patting the bathroom counter. 

Mingi obeyed and Jongho stepped in between his legs in order to get close enough to do his eye makeup. 

“Look up,” Jongho directed. Mingi did as he was told so that Jongho could apply the eyeliner underneath his eye, gently as he could.

“Okay, eyes closed,” he ordered.

Mingi reached out and touched his waist as his eyes closed, “I like this shirt, by the way.”

Jongho tried not to jump at his touch out of surprise, not wanting to scare him off, enjoying his large hand’s presence there, “Yeah? Thanks. It’s new.”

Mingi smiled, “I thought so.”

“Don’t act like you know me.” Jongho joked.

Their faces were close enough together to be sharing one another’s breath again. Mingi’s was warm and minty on Jongho’s face. He felt Mingi’s hand grip almost imperceptibly tighter as he moved on to the other eye. Jongho hoped Mingi couldn’t hear his heart trying to beat out of his chest. He could easily close the gap between them right now if he wanted to. If he was brave. But he didn’t want to kiss Mingi unless he knew indubitably that his friend wanted that as well. And he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. So instead, he finished the other eye, patting Mingi on the face, “Alright, take a look. Let me know if I need to fix anything. 

Jongho took a step back to let Mingi hop down, but Mingi kept his hand on his waist the whole time, using him to ensure a solid landing, before finally letting go and turning around to look in the mirror. 

“It’s perfect. Thanks, man.” Mingi smiled at him through the mirror. 

“Anytime.” Jongho replied. And he meant it. He would do anything for Mingi. 

Dinner was spent at a basement level burger joint that was famous in the city. The decor was vintage, it was loud and busy, and the food was delicious. No complaints. Wooyoung had done it again. Next on his list was a bar down the street called Maxine’s. It was also packed and they had gone all out with decorations for Halloween. The inside was completely Pirates of the Caribbean themed, the bartenders and bar backs were also dressed to theme. One of them, a pretty brunette wearing a theme-appropriate corset, hair braided with a red bandana, looked at Mingi in his outfit (which, admittedly, wasn’t not pirate-y) and eyeliner and said, “Oh, nice, you’re a pirate, too!” 

He laughed, “Um, not intentionally,” he glanced down at his outfit, “but uh yeah, I guess I am.”

“Cute. First drink is free for fellow pirates,” she winked at him, “What can I get for y’all?”

Jongho had to resist the urge to throw his hand around Mingi’s waist. The bartender hadn’t done anything wrong but he once again found himself wishing he was in a position where everyone would know who Mingi belonged to. Wishing that he had the right to claim he belonged to him at all. 

They ordered and happened to find the area towards the back of the bar to be both unoccupied and to have a dart board on the wall. 

Wooyoung looked at them, “Teams of two?”

They agreed. 

Mingi was laughably terrible at it, only getting worse the more he drank. By the second round, he was whining, “Jongho, you have to help me! I suck!”

Jongho was glad to have liquid courage in his system. He approached Mingi from behind, his hand finding the wrist attached to the hand holding the dart, “Okay, just stare down the bullseye and don’t let your eyes move off of it, no matter what. Then you’ll bring your hand back,” he guided his hand backwards, “And then follow through like this,” he demonstrated, “and try to keep your hand level. But most importantly, eye on the bullseye.” He stepped back, hating the distance immediately, “Okay, you try.”

Mingi took a deep breath and threw the dart. It wasn’t a bullseye, but it was much better than what he had been throwing. He jumped in excitement and pulled Jongho in for a bear hug, “You fixed me!” He yelled into his ear. 

Jongho laughed, letting himself be squeezed. 

They win the third round. Mingi celebrated with shots. 

Jongho and Wooyoung easily have the best tolerance of the four of them, with San being the worst of them. He was still sipping on his first drink of the night while the others were on number three or four. Which meant that Mingi was the most buzzed of them all, face almost as pink as his hair. It was cute. Jongho made him drink some water before moving on to the next bar. 

This bar was also decorated for Halloween, and had pinball and skeeball machines in the back. 

The bartender there looked at them and exclaimed, “Oh! Nice BTS costumes, guys!”

They looked between themselves. Four Korean transplants all dressed more fashion forward than had reached the states yet, and definitely not the south. Yeah, okay. Maybe if that was your only point of reference for their culture, sure. They probably looked like they were dressed up as the only k-pop group most people could name. 

They decided to just roll with it, looking at each other before Wooyoung finally looked at her and said, “Thanks!”

They laughed it off as soon as they turned away from the bar with their drinks. 

After that, the night moved on in a bit of a blur. Mingi was weirdly good at pinball. They played games and drank and laughed and had a great time. It was only on their way back that Jongho saw just how drunk Mingi had gotten. He could barely walk in a straight line and kept barking at cars that passed by for some reason. 

Jongho helped him up the stairs to their room at the inn. Upon entering, Mingi immediately darted to the bathroom, no time to close the door before he was kneeling in front of the toilet, vomiting up every ounce he had put away previously. 

Jongho followed him in, found a headband in his toiletry bag and helped him put it on to keep his hair out of his face while he was sick. Mingi groaned pathetically and Jongho knelt down beside him, rubbing his back, “I know honey. You’re okay.” He cooed to the man, a little surprised at his own softness. 

Jongho stood up and went to the bedroom where he found some water glasses on top of the mini fridge, which he filled up for both of them before grabbing some Ibuprofen from his own bathroom bag.

“Here, sit up a little,” he told the other from the ground beside him, “Sip on this.”

Mingi did as he was told, but tried to chug the water. Jongho stopped him, “No, no, no, no chugging, Mingi. You’ll make yourself sick again. Take these though.” He handed him the pills. 

Mingi tossed the pills back and followed them with more water. 

“There you go. Good. That will help.” 

Mingi was swaying on the spot from his place still kneeling in front of the toilet, when he leaned sideways, wrapped his arms around Jongho’s middle and mumbled, “Thank you.”

Jongho smiled down at him, so very fond, “Okay, pukey. You’re welcome. Let’s get you clean, yeah?”

He managed to get Mingi upright to where he could get his shirt off, then had him sit on the toilet to remove his pants before starting the water in the bathtub.

Was he ready, mentally or physically, to help a fully nude Mingi bathe while he was drunk as a skunk and Jongho himself tipsy? Not at all. Was it about to happen anyway? Yeah. Sure was. 

Mingi had always had a beautiful body. A naturally muscular and lean build, someone who always found it easy to lose weight or gain muscle if he wanted to. Jongho couldn’t help but admire it. He managed to not make eye contact with Mingi’s genitalia as he pulled his underwear off and helped him rather clumsily into the bathtub.

Jongho washed the man’s body as well as he could. Mingi reached up and grabbed Jongho’s wrist as his hand was passing over his chest, staring at him a second before saying, “You’re so pretty. I like your face. Did you know that? My pretty Jongho.” He smiled deliriously up at him.

Jongho knew it was just the alcohol talking, but he couldn’t help the blush that creeped up his neck at the words. “You’re the pretty one, Mingi.” He corrected him. 

“Uh-uh. No one as pretty as you, baby.” Mingi slurred. 

Jongho’s heart did backflips at the pet name. Where did that even come from? He was too stunned to speak. 

After he had gotten Mingi to bed and himself also hydrated and ready to sleep, he climbed in beside Mingi, whom he had thought to be out cold. But as soon as he felt Jongho’s weight on the bed, he rolled over and glommed onto his back, pulling him close to his chest. Jongho let himself relax into it. It might be the only time he ever experienced it. He fell asleep with Mingi’s warm breath tickling the hairs on his neck, content as ever.

[laughatdanger]

Only You - Newt (Part 1)

Imagine Newt getting jealous because Minho is flirting with you. 

And, sorry. Newt won't be a BIG part of Pt. 1

Enjoy! 

***

I was the third one to arrive. 

The third. 

No girls, but two boys. Gally and Alby. 

A beautiful place they called the Glade, and large gray walls protecting you from the screeches, clicks, and whirs that sounded at night. 

The walls opened once a day.

Nothing coming in.

Nothing going out. 

And that is how we lived for a while. . . 

Until two boys showed up. 

The first one came up only a month after I got there. 

I woke up to hear an alarm. What the heck? I quickly run out to Gally. He became a brother to me over the last month. He was walking over to what we call The Box. Alby, him being the first one, told me that it had brought one person and supplies for the Glade ever since he arrived. I now assumed that that is where the noise was coming from. 

"Gally, what the heck is that?" I said uneasily. He looked at me and chuckled, shaking his head all the while. 

"Don't worry, Y/N. It's just the Box. I was freaked out 'bout as much as you when it first came up." He chuckled, now looking at you. You were biting your nails in hesitation, and Gally could tell gears were spinning in that head of yours. You looked at him in amazement. 

"Gally?" My voice was a little high pitched. I cleared my throat before continuing to speak, earning a smirk from Gally. I sent him a glare that said enough for him to know what I was thinking of, and continued. "I am very composed right now. So, I can expect you were flailing around like a baby, Captain." I sent him another glare before going over to the Box hole completely. I saw that the Box had come to a brief stop, the metal doors already opening. 

An Asian boy about the age of 14 had come up. (A/N: Mind you all, the Gladers were barely teens when they went into the Glade.) His black hair was shiny in the sun, and he was still unconscious. I looked at Alby. "Is that normal? For. . . for the newbie to be asleep?"

He looked at me with a funny smile. "You weren't here, but Gally slept the whole day. Had to drag his ass out of the Box." I stared wide eyed at the Glader. 

"Dude!" I exclaimed. 

Gally and Alby looked at you, confusion lacing their faces. "What?" They both said in unison. 

"Language. Keep it PG. . . please." You rolled my eyes. They have said worse, trust me. I try to make it so it is the bare minimum if cursing between those boys. Alby and Gally used to curse in every sentence before I arrived. 

They looked at me and laughed so hard, I swear they were going to pee their pants. 

"Really?" Gally started. "Just a small tiny curse word and you go into mama-mode." He laughed some more and then sat down to wipe his eyes. I wish there was somebody else that had some sense here. 

I stared at him for a while, then muttered, "Potty mouth." I slowly hopped into the metal box to examine the boy closer. He was breathing, but almost as if he was in some sort of a trance. I got closer to him, so that our noses were almost touching. At the top of the Box hole, Alby was smirking.

"Go ahead, Y/N. Kiss him!" He let out a deep chuckle and squinted at me, trying to keep tears from coming out of his eyes. 

"Har har." I said sarcastically. "You know, deep down in your heart, Alby, that I'd only kiss you." I batted my eyelashes flirtatiously while a slight blush appeared on Alby's dark skin. He put his hands in his pockets and hopped down in the Box and started to lift the supplies out for Gally to get. 

"What's wrong, Alby? Embarrassed?" Gally teased. 

"Shut up, man." Alby growled, lifting up boxes and searching for supplies.

I continued to observe the boy. He smiled slightly and then his mouth opened, muttering something incomprehensible. He shot up quickly, gasping for air. Our heads collided immediately, leaving my forehead throbbing. I shot back slightly and clutched my forehead. "Ow." I muttered and inhaled sharply. I removed my hand from my head to see the boy clutching his forehead gently. "Shuck." He muttered.

I tilted my head slightly. "What word is that?" 

The boy looked up, his gaze meeting mine. He smiled slightly and then looked at me carefully. "It's. . . uh, a little word of mine that I use." 

I nodded and stood up, reaching my hand out for the boy. He looked at me hesitantly. "Who the shuck are you?"

I looked at him confused. "What happened to you? You were happy just a second ago." I asked.

"Then I realized that I am talking to a complete stranger. Where am I? Who are you? Who are they?" He said, pointing to Gally and Alby. I smiled remembering I punched Gally in the face and went to hide in a tree when I first arrived. 

"Let me help you up first." He stood up, flicked his hair, and eyed me warily. 

I had already jumped out of the Box, when I turned around. "Well, follow me Greenie. We ain't got all day." He looked at me oddly and jumped out after a few minutes of trying to find a way out. He stood and scanned his surroundings. I looked at him. 

"Okay, I'm Y/N. This is Alby." I said pointing to Alby. "And that's Gally." I said, jamming a thumb toward the blond behind me. He turned around and darted so fast, it took me a few seconds to understand what just happened. 

"We got a runner." Alby muttered. He looked at me. I turned around and chased after the boy. 

"Greenie, get back here!" I was considerably faster than Alby and Gally, but dang. . . The newbie can run. He was heading toward the Doors, and that's when I panicked. 

"Greenie, no!" He ran straight through the Doors and never looked back. 

By the time I had caught my breath, Alby and Gally had finally made it over. 

"He ran dead through the Doors. That shuck idiot." I muttered. 

Gally looked at me curiously. 

"Word the newbie used. Thought I'd try it." I shrugged. "But that doesn't even matter right now. That stupid-head ran through the Doors. We have no idea what the heck goes on there half the time, and that kid doesn't even know what we've heard at night!"

"Well, I think we should just let the kid find his way back here." Gally said, his arms crossed and staring directly through the Doors. "They're about to close any minute too." 

We heard the doors rumble and start closing. It's now or never. We stared at the Doors. About 10 feet till they close. Before Alby could even get a say in it, I ran. Gally finally clicked out of his trance. 

"Y/N, NO!!" He tried to grab hold of me, but couldn't. I slipped through the Doors, just before they closed. I heard Gally pound on the door and scream my name. I touched my forehead to the wall and placed my hand alongside it. 

"I'm sorry, Gally. I'm so sorry." I muttered, tears slowly forming in my eyes and gently sliding down my cheeks. I tuned around to look at the eerie corridor in front of me. The walls I had been studying at for a month, suddenly seemed different. Larger. Enchanting. Petrifying. 

I ran. I ran all around all of the different corridors. Each of them equally petrifying and dark. Would have been helpful if I knew the kids' name. 

"Greenie!" I shouted while running. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" I had been running for about 5 hours, hoping I would find the Greenie. As I was running, I noticed that it was almost like a maze. A series of twists and turns. Dead ends and long corridors. I paused for a breath, and that's when I heard it. The click. The whir. And a scream. 

I shot up. "Greenie!" I shouted, running toward the source of the scream. I had just rounded a corner when I bumped into something. Someone. We had fallen on the floor and rolled around for a second, the figure on top of me. I opened my eyes to see the Green Bean looking at me. 

"Y/N?" He asked, fear tracing his eyes. 

"Yeah. What were you screaming at?" He turned around and pointed down the corridor. "It's down there. If I were you, I suggest we run, shank."

"Shank?" I ask.  

"I thought we worried about running for our life?" He said, now jogging down a corridor.

I nodded, following suit. "You still need to tell me what it means."

"I don't know the exact definition. I just come up with words. Use the context, girly."

I looked at him. "Dare to call me that again, and I'll be kickin' you where the sun don't shine, shank."

He smiled. "There you go! You're catchin' on now." 

I rolled my eyes and rounded a corner. " We need to find out way back to the Doors. Now, what was your na-" I paused mid sentence, looking at a mechanical creature I saw behind the Greenie. 

" 'The shuck'd ya pause for?" 

"Run." I whispered, and darted as fast as I could to the end of the corridor.

"Oh, shuck!" The kid yelled, and I heard a series of clicks, whirs, and screeches. Well, I know what makes those noises now. 

Another screech. I looked behind me to see the beast was crawling up the walls. It was now aligned with me and crawled in front of me.

"Oh my God!" I screamed and turned around. "Turn around, turn around, turn the shuck around!!!" I screamed to the kid. "MOVE!!!" The beast was chasing us, hissing and screeching. Goo dripping everywhere off the beast. Dawn was nearing, and I was hoping I'd find the doors. That's when it happened. I ran into a wall. I ran into a wall, and fell onto the newbie. 

I turned around, to see the mechanical beast was gone, and the corridor behind us was now closed. The walls were. . . moving?

"What the shuck is going on?" I muttered. 

"Nice use of words." The Greenie muttered. "But seriously, what the shuck is going on?" 

"The walls seem to be moving." You turned around, now seeing the Doors of the Glade slowly opening, and two figures stand in the opening. Gally and Alby. Sweat dripping down your face, your body sore, and a few cuts here and there, you ran to the Doors. "Come on, Greenie! Move before that thing comes back! Hurry up and move! You jogged toward the entrance, falling into Gally's arms. He hugged me tightly, burying his face in my neck. 

"Gally, can't breathe, bro." He loosed his grip on me and my knees immediately gave in. I fell. 

"Y/N! Are you okay?" 

I looked around to find the newbie laying on the floor, in a similar position to me. Alby, was talking to him.

"No. I have been running all night." I said, my eyelids drooping. Alby was now standing over me.

"Newbie said they encountered this thing that clicked and whirred. Was chasin' 'em."

Gally looked at me, concerned. "I'll carry you to your hammock. It's sounds like you had a rough night."

I nodded, then remembered the Green Bean. "Wait! Hey, Greenie. Can you walk?"

He nodded slightly and stumbled to his feet. "Then I can walk too." I said. "I'll take the Greenie over to the hammocks. Come on." I held my hand out for the Greenie. He eyed me and then took my hand. 

We walked over to the hammocks in silence. But when we got there, he hugged me. "Thank you for going after me, Y/N."

I hugged him back. "No problem, dude." 

"Oh, and I remember my name. It's Minho." He said, and laid down in his hammock. 

Minho. 

I laid down, hoping I'd be able to get some shut eye. The second I closed my eyes, I drifted off into sleep. 

"It's time to go." A voice called from outside the door. I felt long, slender arms wrapped around me tightly.  Who am I hugging? 

"Love, I'm sorry. We'll get out of this bloody situation someday. I promise." I heard a deep, soothing voice whisper in my ear. I have heard that voice! Where? I know I have.

"I know. . . I love you, Newt." I hugged the boy tightly and soon felt myself being pulled away from him. I grasped onto his hand long enough to see his face and give him a sad smile. "Don't forget me." I whispered. Before I knew it, I was being whisked away from the boy. 

Newt. 

***

I hope you liked part 1. Sooooo..... Newt really wasn't in it at all except for Y/N's dream. Sorry! He will be incorporated more in later chapters.

Random thought: Am I the only one who thinks while they dream?

Thanks for reading! Love, like, comment, request!

[liarlute]

please write fluffy hangster !!! maybe one had a nightmare and the other comforts them?? stablished relationship pls

im so sorry this took so long! it’s been a weird couple of weeks. enjoy<3 

“Bradley, I need you to wake the fuck up.” Jake murmured, curling a hand around his boyfriends shoulder until he jolted almost violently, a broken cry in lieu of a scream. His own hands were shaking, skating carefully over every inch of Bradley’s bruised torso that he could touch. There was a burning in his core, an intense and foreign concern he’d never really had to face before, but he pushed beyond it to draw Bradley hard against his chest as a grating scream pierced the air. “You’re okay Roo, it’s just me.” 

The wrecked tone of his own voice alarmed him, breaking in the middle of his sentence. Bradley was trembling from head to toe, his arms having curled around Jake’s torso to cling onto him. He was panting, chest rising and falling with aberrant stutters in between, catching on something that wasn’t there. He was cold to the touch, sweaty but shivering as he hid his face under Jake’s jaw, who was desperately trying to figure out how to broach what the fuck had just happened.

He didn’t say a word until Bradley’s arms slowly broke their lock around his chest and he leant back into a conversational distance, enough space to see his face tear-streaked and painted in blues of dawn, staring straight down at the tangle of duvet between them. He opened his mouth but no words came out, just a frustrated sigh.

Really, it didn’t matter how inexperienced with intimacy Jake was, or how little he knew about what to do in a situation as such, because Bradley seemed too incomprehensible to even tell him what happened without some sort of guidance. Jake internally cursed the cataclysmic effects that the Navy still had on men and their emotional competence if a person like Bradley couldn’t get the words out (he didn’t think about what that meant for himself).

“What happened?” Jake asked quietly, taking both of Bradley’s hands in his own with a level of caution. The other pilot was still staring away from him, out toward the window and its gleaming frame of light around their blind. 

He shook his head, squeezing his hands around Jake’s. “Bad dream. I’m sorry I woke you up.” His face was flushed and Jake wasn’t particularly sure if that was due to embarrassment or the stress, but a part of him broke at the sight, aching from deep within his chest. He would do anything, pay any amount of money, to make sure Bradley never looked like that again. Anything.

He held Bradley’s hands tighter in his own, lifting one to press a kiss to the back of his hand. They’d been together for a year and a half, blossomed off the back of the suicide mission with the dagger squadron, and he still felt a rush at being able to do that; at being able to kiss any part of Bradley. “Don’t apologise, sweetheart. Do you need anything? Something to drink, or do you want to talk about it?” The pet name felt odd on his tongue typically, reserved for use in a mocking way when he hammed up his inner Southern boy, but with Bradley it simply felt earnest. It had a wonderful effect too, because it made him even more pink in the face and the corners of his mouth finally twitched alongside a smile. Jake felt warm all over.

“I’m okay, I just…” The smile wavered. Jake traced patterns into the backs of both of his hands, nodding just enough for encouragement without speaking and shattering his groove. “I was back in the snow, but it was you this time that got shot down, not Mav. And this time, I didn’t get there quick enough. I don’t even know what the situation was, if we still hated each other or if it was you now. But when I got there it didn’t matter, because you’d been shot clean through, and there’s no hiding that much blood in the snow.”

He was shaking again, more violently than before, with his breathing rate picking up to an audible degree. Jake dropped one of his palms to gently catch Bradley’s bicep in hand and traced a pattern all the way up, curling around his shoulder and manoeuvring for a roll-off-the-top to skate back down along his collarbone. They seemed to lean and breathe into each other with no effort or conscious thought, tangled limbs and shared breaths in the quiet of their bedroom. Jake ached under the force of his adoration, but he kept it contained. He had to make sure Bradley was okay.

“Well I’m right here, Roo.” Warily, Jake looped his hand around Bradley’s wrist and brought it slowly up to his chest, pressing it palm-down and firm over his heart. “You feel that? Can you hear it? I’m right here and I’m alive, Bradley, and I’m not going anywhere.” He felt Bradley flex his fingers out, shift his palm over the steady beat of a heart beneath it, hand broad enough that the tips of his fingers curled into the bronzed juncture of Jake’s throat. 

“I love you.” Bradley murmured, just beginning to lose the hysterical edge that nightmares gave people. Jake laid his hand flat over the other man’s, slotting their fingers together over his chest, and gave the warmest smile he could possibly find.

“I know."

[makeste]

BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids​ for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

[lina-andel]

Broken faith {part 2}

[ENG] The meeting with the cold floor was... terrible. Especially with rubble and sand that stuck to your body and hit the wound, making it sore even more. You were afraid to even get up - what if they notice that you woke up? They will cripple you. You, that doesn't even understand how got here and what has already done. Why are you so? Only the gods know. Speaking of gods, did Barbatos just ignore what they did to you? Would he, the one who fought for freedom, allow someone to be imprisoned just like that?

Was he the one who ordered the Ordo Favonius to do this to you?

Misunderstanding and resentment overwhelmed you almost headlong - how, why so? Venti was kind to people, why did he allow such injustice to happen right in front of his statue? What are you so guilty of?

You tried to get up, but the wound was cut with pain, from which your hands immediately weakened and you fell to the floor, huddled into a ball and trying to drown out the pain, which, however, quickly sobered you - you remembered where you were, emerging from your world of incomprehension.

And you realized what a mistake you made, as soon as you heard the clatter of heels.

- "And here is our little impostor..." - Liza, smiling rather, pulled your hair sharply, from which it seemed that she would now pull it out by the roots. You saw that there was anger in her eyes and you knew what she was capable of in anger. -"Sorry, Jean is a little busy right now, so she asked me to... talk to you." - you immediately began to shake - instinctively, the magician has not done anything yet. Although there was clearly a sense of electricity in the air.

"I-I don't know anything! Really!" - fear for my life made me speak, although my throat was still aching - I had a cold and the fact that you tore it off while flying. - "P-please let me go, I don't understand what's going on..."

- "The answer is wrong, honey." - your eyes instantly widened, and then an unrestrained scream escaped from your throat again - you felt how electricity went through you, spreading through your body like lightning. Everything seemed to be on fire in a second... and then went out, although at least a minute had passed for you. - "Do you think more?"

Lisa tortured you for a long, very long time. You already wanted to confess to anything, if only she left, but she did not give you a single clue. You were sure - the sight of you exhausted gave her an unprecedented pleasure, which made you sick - she did not seem so disgusting to you on the other side of the screen.

This would have continued further, if one of the knights had not called the librarian with him, after which she, once again knocking you against the wall, left, dusting off her hands, as if fiddling in the mud. As much as you would like to breathe a sigh of relief, you automatically tensed - more steps were heard in your direction. You could no longer expect good things, but at that moment...

- "Your Excellency?" [RUS] Встреча с холодным полом оказалась... ужасной. Особенно с щебнем и песком, что прилипли к твоему телу и попали в рану, заставляя её саднить ещё сильнее. Ты боялась даже встать - вдруг они заметят что ты очнулась? Они же покалечат тебя. Тебя, что даже не понимает как здесь оказалась и что уже успела натворить. За что тебя так? Знают только боги. Кстати о богах, неужели Барбатос так просто проигнорировал то, что с тобой сделали? Неужели о��, тот, кто боролся за свободу, позволил бы просто так кого-то посадить?

Неужели именно он приказал Ордо Фавониус так с тобой поступить?

Непонимание и обида захлёстывали тебя чуть ли не с головой - как, почему так? Венти ведь был добр к людям, почему он позволил такой несправедливости происходить прямо у его статуи? Чем ты так провинилась?

Ты попыталась встать, но рана резанула болью, от чего руки тут же ослабели и ты упала на пол, сжавшись в комок и стараясь заглушить боль что, впрочем, быстро отрезвила - ты вспомнила где ты, вынырнув из своего мирка непонимания.

И ты поняла, какую же ошибку совершила, стоило тебе услышать цоканье каблуков.

-"А вот и наша маленькая самозванка..." - Лиза, довольно улыбнувшись, резко дёрнула тебя за волосы, от чего показалось что она сейчас их вырвет с корнем. Ты видела, что в глаза её была злоба и знала, на что способна она в гневе. -"Извини, Джинн сейчас немножко занята, поэтому она попросила меня с тобой... поговорить." - тебя тут же затрясло - инстинктивно, маг пока что ничего не сделала. Хотя в воздухе явно чувствовалось электричество.

"Я-я ничего не знаю! Правда!" - страх за свою жизнь заставил говорить, хотя горло всё ещё болело - сказывалась простуда и то, что ты сорвала его, пока летела. - "П-прошу вас, отпустите меня, я не понимаю что происходит..."

-"Ответ неверен, милая." - твои глаза мигом расширились, а после из горла вновь вырвался несдержанный крик - ты почувствовала как по тебе прошлось электричество, молниями расползаясь по телу. Всё как будто в секунду загорелось... и тут же погасло, хотя для тебя прошла минимум минута. -"Подумаешь ещё?"

Лиза мучила тебя долгое, очень долгое время. Ты уже хотела сознаться в чём угодно, лишь бы она ушла, но она не давала тебе н�� единой подсказки. Ты была уверена - вид измученной тебя доставлял ей небывалое удовольствие, от чего тебе стало тошно - она не казалась тебе настолько отвратительной по ту сторону экрана.

Это бы продолжалось и дальше, если бы один из рыцарей не позвал библиотекаршу с собой, после чего она, ещё раз стукнув тебя об стенку, ушла, отряхивая руки, словно возилась в грязи. Как бы тебе не хотелось вздохнуть с облегчением, ты автоматически напряглась - были слышны ещё шаги в твою сторону. Ждать хорошего ты уже не могла, но в этот момент...

-"Ваше Светлейшество?"

[scripturiends]

gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Read on ao3

Summary: It was the one time her hunch had been wrong.

In which Han Joonhwi is acting suspicious, and Kang Sol A intends to find out why.

Rating: T

Word count: 3,848

Notes: Title taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘invisible string’: “Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs; were there clues I didn’t see?”

~

As promised, here is the Solhwi fic that I had hoped to be up before Episode 7 airs. I went straight to work after receiving positive feedback from an interest check post. As I mentioned there, the story isn’t necessarily dwelling on the current timeline, but is, for the most part, still canon-compliant. I totally made up all the legal jargon, so please bear with me. And, like the show, I decided to do ‘cutscenes’ instead of one unilinear fic.

I had a lot of fun with this little project for the past two days, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :) I’d also love to hear your thoughts, please do send me a message or feel free to comment, it would mean the absolute world to me. Thank you and let’s all look forward to Episodes 7 and 8 this week!

The fic is under the cut. As a sidenote, this fic is un-beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.

~

I.

Kang Sol A swears she only drifted off for a second.

She had been burning the midnight oil for the past few days, well into the weekend, so much that the tension was radiating into her atmosphere, so much that the heat was starting to get to her head. Her Civil Code paper may not write itself, but neither could she if it took every ounce of her energy just to even sit up. So she plopped down on her bed, head heavy on her pillow, still fighting the urge to doze off.

She blinked, slowly, and as her eyes fluttered at an alarming rate, they eventually closed — just for a moment, I’ll count to ten and then wake up again — and stilled.

Birds were chirping outside her window when her eyes shot open, and that’s how she knew she messed up big-time. She woke with a start, frantically shaking off the books and papers off her person and frisking for her phone, silently praying that she wasn’t too late for her meeting with her project partner Seo Jiho, who she knows absolutely despises latecomers.

Sol A felt something vibrate from behind her, and an incomprehensible sound escaped her lips as she checked her phone. There were mountains of notifications that prevented her from checking the current time: self-set alarms, e-mails from her professors, reminders about today’s meeting with Jiho, and missed calls from a certain Han Joonhwi.

Clearing all of them at once, she finally reads: 9:07 AM. She was supposed to meet Jiho at 9:15. Sol A breathes a sigh of relief, but her momentary celebration is cut short when her phone starts to ring.

Han Joonhwi was calling again.

She didn’t even get a chance to speak yet when the voice on the other end asked, “Breakfast?”

Sol A put him on speaker phone as she packed up her things. “Can’t,” she replied mindlessly. “I have to meet with Seo Jiho and I’m already late. Eat by yourself.”

A few seconds of silence went unnoticed as Kang Sol A zipped up her knapsack and wore it over her shoulder. She finally picked up her phone and switched back to the handset. “Don’t skip breakfast, you hear me?”

Still nothing. “Joonhwi-ah.”

“Walk fast,” was all he said. And then he hung up.

That caught Sol A off guard, but she heeded the advice anyway.

She made it to the study room at exactly 9:13, only stopping by the entrance to catch her breath and tie her hair back into a ponytail. It was silent, so she half-hoped that no one would be there, but half-expected nothing less from Jiho. So she walks in, footsteps heavy, only skidding to a halt when she sees Jiho staring someone down, someone whose back looked all-too-familiar.

“You like her, don’t you?” she overhears from Jiho. “Kang So-”

Jiho suddenly fell silent at the sight of Sol A, and the man opposite him suddenly turned his head towards her. She was right about who it was — it was none other than the person she spoke with on the phone just a few minutes ago.

If Joonhwi was surprised, he didn’t show it.

But Kang Sol A did. She blinked once, and with a hint of dubiousness, she asked, “Who likes who?”

The men shared a look, and she was met with silence again, which was beginning to irk her. But she bit her tongue, took a seat across Seo Jiho, and grinned cheekily at him. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You aren’t...” Jiho replied, trailing off.

“I am by your standards. I know you,” she said matter-of-factly. “For Seo Jiho, ‘on time’ actually means ‘thirty minutes early’. Which means I’m late.”

Sighing wistfully, Sol A added, “I learned that the hard way.”

She locks eyes with Joonhwi momentarily, but he averts his gaze, expression unreadable. Sol A ignores this and tries her luck once more, eyes flitting from Jiho to Joonhwi and back. “Who were you guys talking about?”

This time, almost with no hesitation, Joonhwi finally spoke up. “No one,” he answered. “My roommate was just practicing his cross-examination skills on me.”

He stood up, giving Seo Jiho a final staredown. “They’re very poor at the moment. Help him out, will you?”

Then, without looking Kang Sol A in the eye, he gave her a soft squeeze on the shoulder, and promptly left.

Sol A’s eyes followed Joonhwi’s back, and stayed there even after he left. His touch lingered on her shoulder like a ghost, but instead of comfort, all she felt was fear. Suspicion. Restlessness. That maybe he was hiding something, and whether it involved her or not, she was keen on finding out just exactly what it was.

II.

“I’m telling you, Yeseul-ah,” Sol A insists. “Something’s up with him.”

They link arms, walking past the school entrance and into the lobby. Jeon Yeseul turns to her, hair falling perfectly into place as she lets out an angelic laugh. God, Sol A thinks. Even her laugh is perfect. But past the admiration for her Aphrodite-like features, Sol A feels like she’s being mocked.

She pouts. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do!” Yeseul defends. “You think he likes Kang Sol B.”

Sol A slides her left hand off Yeseul’s arm and holds her friend’s right one lightly. “So why are you laughing at me, then?”

“Unnie.” Yeseul wraps an arm around Sol A’s shoulder. “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe Joonhwi-oppa likes you?”

Sol A almost choked on her spit. Of course she’s thought about it — after all, she’s a hundred percent certain that it was the name Kang Sol that slipped from Seo Jiho’s mouth a few days ago. But none of the evidence so far points to it being herself. And anyway, it’s not as if he’s shown any interest in Sol A as a woman. In fact, all he does is tease her. And she’s okay with that. And Sol B already likes Joonhwi. And they seem to be a far better fit than Sol A and Joonhwi. And it’s not like she harbors any romantic feelings for him, either.

She pushes the thought away before it could become bigger.

Sol A denies, deflects, and defends. “That can’t be right.”

“Why not?” her friend challenges.

“Why would he be avoiding me if that were true?” Sol A counters.

“People do that when they feel awkward around their crush,” Yeseul rebuts.

This is starting to feel like a game of chess rather than a conversation between best friends. “I think he’s just scared I’ll tell my roommate or something.” Before Yeseul could say anything else, by some stroke of luck, Sol A spots Joonhwi from her peripheral vision, walking past Lady Justice.

Yeseul smiles kindly at Sol A. She doesn’t doubt its genuineness, but she feels like it’s laced with mischief. “Should we test your theory, then?”

What does that mean?

“Joonhwi-oppa!” Yeseul shouts, waving at him from across the room.

She’s not going to ask him, is she?

Yeseul runs to Joonhwi, a light skip in her step. “I have something to ask you.”

Wait.

“Wait,” escaped from Sol A’s lips, barely a whisper before it started registering on her what Yeseul was about to do. And when it does, she finally sprints. “Jeon Yeseul, wait!”

“Oppa.” Yeseul bats her eyelashes at Joonhwi. Sol A was in tow behind her, feeling small but unsure why.

“Oh, Yeseul-ah,” Joonhwi greets. His eyes lit up at the sight of his friend and classmate.

While it pained Sol A to just sit back and watch, knowing that Joonhwi had been purposefully avoiding her, she let the scene unfold, trusting that Yeseul knew what she was doing.

“You haven’t been going to the study group sessions lately,” Yeseul starts.

Sol A hoped it would get a rise out of him, seeing as he was the one who started the group to begin with, but was barely showing up these days. Instead, all he said was, “The pair project in Civil Code has been holding me up.”

Yeah, right, she thinks. A second-round judicial exam passer and a former police academy student having a hard time in Civil Code? Why do I find that hard to believe?

Sol A scoffs, and Yeseul pinches her side. “Sol-unnie and I are meeting the others for lunch. You should come join us.”

“Ah,” Joonhwi drawled out slowly, as if coming up with an excuse to say no. Sol A expects it to be his next move. “I wish I could, but-”

Knew it.

“Kang Sol B will be there,” Sol A blurts out, fully aware that it’s a total lie. Still, she had to try.

Something in Joonhwi’s mood changed, and his face hardened. Still not making eye contact with Sol A, he excuses himself from Yeseul. “I’ll take a rain check today, okay?”

And without another word, he left again, leaving Sol A with the same emptiness that she had felt in the study room the other day.

Yeseul finally turns to Sol A, crossing her arms. “You’re right. He’s being weird.”

III.

A few more days without Joonhwi’s company, and Sol A was starting to feel its ill effects on her. She hadn’t realized just how much she took him for granted until he was no longer around to challenge her ideas, to annoy her over the littlest of things, to calm her down when she’s freaking out, to be her drinking buddy, to be someone she could tell any and every stupid story to, with the utmost confidence that he’ll keep it to himself or that he wouldn’t belittle her for it.

They’d been through too much together now, and even their fateful first meeting all those years ago didn’t faze him from her. In fact, her little scheme, no matter how deceitful at the time, brought him closer not just to her, but to Byeol, her mom, and to an extent, even Dan.

So what changed? What on earth did Seo Jiho say to him, and what on earth did she walk into, that made him close himself off from her? Proximity may not breed familiarity, but right now she wishes nothing more than to be in his orbit again.

Arguably the worst consequence of the lack of Joonhwi in Sol A’s life right now is having no one to eat with.

During one of her all-nighters at the dorm, she found herself with an intense craving for some ramyeon. She removed her earphones, partly to pull herself back to reality, but mostly to ask her roommate to have a meal with her. As if Sol B would say yes, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m going downstairs for a bite. You wanna come?”

No response, as expected from Kang Sol B. Sol A inwardly rolled her eyes, spinning in her chair to tease her roommate, only to find the desk empty.

She scratched her head while walking, wondering where Sol B could be at this time of night. And without a heads up, too… She was getting worried.

But it seems like her concern was all for naught, because Sol B was right where Sol A was headed.

And she was there with Han Joonhwi.

She was laughing. It was the first time that she saw Sol B laugh, maybe ever, and to see that Joonhwi could be someone who could do that for her, made Sol A feel proud. Like knowing Han Joonhwi was a privilege, not only because of the way he could make people comfortable around him, but also because Sol A had once been on the receiving end of it herself.

She should be relieved. In fact, she should be happy. Because it means that her guess was right, which means she doesn’t have to keep digging anymore. She could just tell Joonhwi that his secret’s safe with her, and they could finally go back to the way they were before... Right?

And yet something about witnessing the pair interact as a mere bystander didn’t sit right with Sol A. There’s a pang in her chest that she can’t quite comprehend — maybe she just misses him, or maybe it’s something else completely. Because if Han Joonhwi has feelings for Kang Sol B, and they’re together right now, then that leaves only one explanation: he must be avoiding her, and for a completely different reason.

It was the first time her hunch had been wrong.

Needless to say, Sol A lost her appetite and trudged back upstairs lifelessly, a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place where it even came from.

IV.

Come Friday, Sol A was too exhausted to even think about Han Joonhwi. Between the endless deadlines and papers to write, her job in the copy room, and the Seo Byungju case, her energy had been too depleted and her social battery too worn out to even care that her relationships could be falling apart.

The only thing she has going for her now is the Legal Clinic, the one place where she could bury her nose deep in case digests and law readings and she would absolutely never get tired of it, because it’s the one place where she feels like she’s making a real difference, especially when people’s lives are at stake. It was the remaining part of her life where Sol A felt like she was in control, so these days, all her emotionally-charged passion was focused on this one thing.

But of course that had to fall apart too, when Professor Yang asked for her to stay after class.

He cut right to the chase. “I’ll be meeting with my defense lawyer today so I need you to consult with the client in my stead.”

Count on Yangcrates to always give Sol A a heart attack in under two seconds.

“M-me?” she stuttered.

The professor’s face twitched, ever-so-slightly, which Sol A took as a sign to backtrack and confidently proclaim that she’s up to the task. She knows there’s nothing Yang Jonghoon hates more than a quitter.

“Ah, yes, of course,” she accedes, with a little more verve.

He nods once in her direction. “And take Han Joonhwi with you,” he commanded.

She’s doomed. Not that she wasn’t doomed before, but now that Professor Yang had to drag her personal life into this, she was really in shambles.

Sol A clears her throat. “With all due respect, Sir,” she laughs nervously, “don’t you trust me?”

Professor Yang takes a moment to think about it. Sol A wonders if today’s the day she finally gets a definitive answer. But Yangcrates is as sly as ever. “This is your chance to get back at him for the Bad FaMa case. Make him your assistant this time.”

He walks away, leaving Sol A dumbfounded once again, but not before he adds, “Under my orders, of course.”

Sol A’s knees buckled at the thought. Normally, she would find this predicament to be absolutely funny, a chance to bicker with Joonhwi and learn something from him at the same time. But he’s angry at her, and she doesn’t even know why, and even merely approaching him has turned into a problem.

Everything in Sol A’s life right now is a problem. She wonders if it's getting Joonhwi back that would fix everything.

Upon leaving the classroom, she spots him getting a drink from the vending machine. She has to slap herself twice, just to mentally prepare herself, to muster up the courage to approach him again.

“Come on, Sol,” she whispers to herself. “This isn’t hard.”

Shaking off the nerves, she takes a step forward, but in a momentary state of weakness, takes another step back. “So what if he’s mad? That’s his problem. I’ve never given him a reason to be angry. He should suck it up. Not me. Come on. Just do it.”

A step forward.

“Just do it.”

A step back.

“Goddamn it.”

One final step back to boost herself forward, and she’s running towards him, pretending to be as casual as possible. “Han Joonhwi!” she calls out to him.

His eyes widen at the sight of her, knowing he has nowhere to escape.

“Did you get my text? Professor Yang needs our help at the Legal Clinic.” She smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

Joonhwi scratched the back of his head, and Sol A just knows it’s about to be another lame excuse. “I can’t. I’m meeting Sol B for our Civil Code term paper.”

He can’t even look at her, and Sol A wonders just how bad she had hurt Joonhwi for him to feel like this towards her. But that only lasted for a second, when she realized just exactly what he said. Then, her pity turned into irritation, as she accused, “Liar.”

Sol A crossed her arms, and glared at Joonhwi. “Did you forget that I’m her roommate? She went home today.”

V.

Sol A sat across Joonhwi inside the Legal Clinic, her eyes narrowed to slits. A profound silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by a sharp inhale from her.

“You like Kang Sol B, don’t you?”

The only response she got was Han Joonhwi’s signature smirk, playful and taunting, one that said, ‘You don’t know me, and you never will’.

She hated that.

She slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t look at me like that. I would have kept your secret if you just asked. Is that why you were avoiding me? Because you think I’d tell her or something?”

The same smile painted on his face, Joonhwi exhaled defeatedly. “Kang Sol A, I thought I taught you to never make any claims with unfounded bases.”

An eyebrow perched up on Sol A’s end. “It’s not unfounded,” she argues.

“Where’s your evidence, then?” he dared her.

Sol A had been waiting for this. She listed everything he had ever done — or refused to do, which was spend time with her, speak to her, or even look at her, which was absolutely the bare minimum — since the incident with Seo Jiho up to this very moment.

He waves his hand dismissingly. “That’s all speculative.”

If his goal was to rile her up, then it’s definitely working. “Then what about what I heard Seo Jiho tell you that one time? And most importantly, you straight up lied to my face.”

“Circumstantial,” he quips. “That would never hold up in court, especially not when the only witness is yourself. How are you going to be both the defense lawyer and the sole witness?”

Han Joonhwi should be at the edge of the precipice here, and yet he has managed to flip the situation over and turn it into an interrogation for Kang Sol A.

Nothing can hide her frustration anymore. “I would never be the lawyer in my own case. Look, it’s still evidence. You asked, and I gave it. Seriously, Han Joonhwi, what’s with you?”

Instead of a direct answer, he points out, “You rely on your emotions too much.”

Almost immediately, she shoots back, “And you rely on the law too much. This isn’t a courtroom. This is a human conversation.”

He purses his lips, unable to say anything, and Kang Sol A continues. “You’re too stubborn.”

“And you’re too nosy.”

“You’ve benefited from it more than once.” Sol A’s patience is getting thinner by the second. “Can’t you just tell me what I did so that I can either apologize for it or call you out for being wrong?”

“You and Sol B are hardly friends. What reason would I have to be afraid?” Amusement gleamed in Joonhwi’s eyes; Sol A was astounded by how he could stay so nonchalant about this. “Think.”

She glared at him, but still ceded. Damn his tenacity. “Fine, I’ll play along.”

She rolled her eyes, and in a blasé manner, started to think out loud. “I overheard Jiho ask you if you liked Kang Sol, and then you started avoiding me. Yeseul asked you to join us for lunch, and when I said Sol B would be there, even though she really wasn’t, you declined. So I thought it was her that you liked. But it doesn’t make sense, because I saw you two hanging out at the cafeteria that one night-”

His arrogant expression changed to one of shock. “You did?”

“-and then you straight up lied to me about your plans. Unless you two are already dating-”

“We’re not,” he interrupts once more. Sol A eyes him with suspicion. “We’re not,” he repeats indignantly.

“-it could only mean that you do like Kang Sol…”

Joonhwi starts slowly nodding, face a little flushed, but somehow urging her on to continue.

“...just not B. You like-”

“Kang Sol A.” Professor Yang enters the room, calling out her name.

She’s sure her professor asked her to do something, but she was unmoved. At this point, she doesn’t think anything could pull her out of her reverie for the rest of the day.

A veil that covered her eyes was lifted, and she had never been so pitiful of the blindfold that Lady Justice wore. The scales Kang Sol A carried, as heavy as the burdens she was facing, balanced with Han Joonhwi holding them up with her. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand right at that moment, to feel the heaviness in its entirety, and thank him for staying anyway.

They don't talk for the rest of the day, but Kang Sol A is unbothered.

Her questioning attitude may have always gotten her in trouble in school, but this was the one time she was glad to be wrong.

Epilogue

Han Joonhwi fell asleep on his desk again.

He normally finishes up all his revisions early, but because of his agitation, the cold table seemed to be more inviting than the bed, where he simply ends up tossing and turning.

Despite the stiff neck it was bound to cause, he’s been doing it for days, only being woken up by his constant 8:30 alarms. This time, however, it was his gracious roommate Seo Jiho who finally interrupted him from his slumber.

Jiho slammed a sealed instant ramyeon pack on Joonhwi’s desk. He groggily looked up at his friend, whose hair was still disheveled, and asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s from Kang Sol A.” Before walking away, he deadpanned, “Do your own bidding next time. I’m not your messenger.”

Joonhwi took the cup ramyeon, spotting the bright yellow sticky note on it, not unlike the ones he’d put on Sol A’s notebook, or occasionally, her forehead. He smiled to himself as he read the message, walking out to heat up some water for breakfast, but not before carefully displaying the note on his bulletin board for the whole world to see.

Han Joonhwi,

For a second-round judicial exam passer, you can be so dense.

I like you back, you idiot.

Now stop sulking and have breakfast with me.

Idiot.

~

Send me your thoughts/fic requests here!

[bemylord]

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱᴘᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴏᴛ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ

characters: probably all in the aot world.

warnings: au, modern to aot, superpower, action, curse words, might be spoilers, deviation from the canon, my broken sence of humor, open final.

synopsis: you have woke up in the cellar, feeling a terrible headache as you opened eyes, you could barely see faces in front of you - it's all a blur. the next thing you heard is: 'kill her?' and 'no, we need her alive'

butler's remark: i hope you're doing well, today i made @gipumar request but! it's not over yet. i'll, i guess, write four and final [final would be a drabble] parts. i started from the first season and to the last one. [i'm watching last season rn]. reader is a titan! i also watched 1st season and second a couple of months ago, so i may have forgotten smth, but it's my au, and there will be a slight deviation from the canon. + reader and levi having their attitude.

➝ back to the main master list.

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

you couldn't see anything - you've got a headache, tinnitus, you also can't move, as you couldn't feel your body - you wanted to open eyes, but again, every slightest movements causes unbearable pain all over the body. your overhear someone voice, or voices, or it's your imagination is playing with you. you mumbled, not being able to mutter out half a word.

'what's wrong? i've had drink a lot yesterday, jesus christ.'

the five human senses begin to activate, as if after a long time in a disconnected mode. you tossed your head back as you feel your muscles, barely feel the rest of the body as if is a closed location where you need access.

'kill her?'

'no, we need her alive'

as you overhear unknown voices, that aren't belong to your family or friends, you did a step forwards, as handcuffs are holding you from escaping. from under your open eyelids, you could barely see anything: some kind of light on the left side and two men in front of you, standing behind .. jail grate?

'where..'

throat ached as you pronounce the word, close eyes. the clarity is starting to appear as you could feel your fingers and arms being handcuffed. slowly turned head to the right side to see the room you are, noticing some kind of anciety? the walls are made of brick, the floor also, incomprehensible handcuffs. you weren't a criminal, but the general knowledge of what a prison cell looks like you knew from movies and shows.

'where.. am i..'

you heard a slight giggle, turning head to the sound, noticing two man: one is tall and well-built, the blond one. the next one is smaller, he's leaning against the wall, not even peek at you.

'stupid bitch, you better be talking right now. who are you and what you were planning to do, br-'

'levi! we had talked about it, calm down.'

as they quarrel, you've got an opportunity to scrutinize their state: the blond guy is clearly the captain or leader - the way he sits and his way of speaking, significantly different from the other guy.

the short one is obviously mad or annoyed, maybe you ain't good at reading people but he isn't looking at you, shows his irritation by gesture: arms crossed over his chest as he scows and half-mutter under his breath.

'who are you?' you suddenly asked, unawares them. 'why.. where? the fuc-'

'i told you, erwin, that pathetic bitch doesn't.. fine, i'll be quiet'

erwin. levi. who are they? what are you doing here? lots of questions - any answers.

you find yourself being on your knees as your wrists in the handcuffs. you wear ridiculous and funny clothes - a long linen shirt, probably for man, but you could feel you're wearing the only shirt.

your eyes widened at the of thought what they did to you while you were sleeping, moved hands forward as the chance to break the shackles. you failed, feeling pain in your shoulders.

'who are you? what happened? i'll call the police you're perverts!'

'the court wants to kill you, you'd better not move.'

the court? kill? girl, you have troubles. a big-big one.

'please, what happened? did i kill someone? did i.. what? i'll call to my lawyer'

erwin, as you might remember right, sigh, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. the guy next to him giggled, holding himself from offensive phrases.

'you are a titan, girl. yes, you saved us and our town from the titan whilst eren was plugging the hole in the wall.'

'titan? how did i end up here?'

'a bright flash appeared in the sky and then we saw you - in a titan guise.'

you raise one eyebrow, pondering over words the blond said. titan? your knowledge on the theme 'titan' is poor. in the modern world, not many people are interested or being keen on that theme. vampires, werewolves, witches, sorcerers [jjk, lol] - is favorite theme for fantasy movies.

you smiled, to which the boys frowned. you smirked first, before you burst out laughing out loud. titan? did you saved a town? nice prank it was.

'come on, nice prank it was. but i have a headache and also i want to rest 'cause tomorrow i have a math test and my teacher will kill me if i won't be there.'

levi smiles as he heard you.

'do what you've planned, i won't interfere.'

'finally.'

levi opened the door grate with a foot, immediately make a fist of your hair, tossed your head back.

'i don't care you're woman or man, you'll take your punishment. prank? lawyer? you make up new words, you trashy girl.'

the way he looks into your eyes, practically choking you, as you're hard to swallow your saliva either take a deep breath. first, you thought he's the weak one, not having force at all. just being a regular soldier who's following someone's orders.

'listen, you will walk with us and we will show you the wall, maybe you'd remember the action if not - prepare your pretty face'

he took the shackles off you, letting his hands carelessly fall onto your knees as you feel his hands on your wrists with an order: i didn't tell you i give you the recovery time.

the hallway they are leading you is full of soldiers with a weapon in their arms who're following you with their eyes on you, whispering each other.

you turned right and left a few times before finding yourself on a small ledge where the town was spread out like the palm of your hand.

where is your city? where are you?

you are scared to ask 'the weak' one, contemplate on the unknowing town. small houses, without any skyscrapers, without cars, roads, without anything familiar to your world.

prank's out of control.

'it can't be true, i don't understand..' you make a step forward, as if to verify if it's accurate. 'i've transported into another world, it can't be true, where is.. police? explain me something, captain, huh?'

'stohess. the city you are in now. perhaps you're as much help from another world as you're a mighty titan.'

stohess. europe? america? maybe it's a small town somewhere in the... somewhere in the world. your world.

'do you remember something?'

he turned his head to your face, waiting for the negative answer. yes, you noded. you couldn't remember anything from what and who you were, how you ended up being here. but you told him something about the country you live. well, you had been leaving.

'someone must have sent you to save our city, girl.'

'y/n. my name is y/n.'

he stares at you like you're an idiot whilst you still examine the view. in front of you, far beyond in the center you noticed a huge figure - titan, - you wanted to ask, but levi was the first.

'right, titan. if it weren't for you, he would have killed half the city, crushing everything in his path. don't waste our time, girl.'

'it's hard to think when i'm under the pressure'

he turned around to leave.

'then, it means i need to kill you today. breathe fresh air while your head is on your shoulders.'

(≧◡≦) love leaving people guessing what will next. i'm sorry for this short part. i need to go out of town for a few days, so i'll leave the next part for later. tomorrow or the day after tomorrow i want to write a little drabble about yaoi, it'll kenma x kuroo, just sfw.

[toxictrannyfreak]

⭐ haven't seen any of your stuff yet but you're one of coolest people on my dash so I can't wait to see what you've been working on

Oh. My gosh, that’s some high praise, but I think some of the kids at my school would laugh you out of the house for calling me cool. I have like 1 friend, and that’s… complicated at the best of times. But I’m getting off track. Enjoy this slice of my WIP. Hope it lives up to your expectations

———

He was gone, decades back, to a planet he didn't remember, with a person whose face he couldn't see. The cliff they stood on was towering, too enormous to be accurate, and the stars above were impossibly bright, blaster bolts of sunlight forcing their way through the immense dark. He was young here, on this half-remembered world. The war still raged; he saw an encampment below, packed to bursting with clones and tanks. He looked at the woman next to him, fervently wishing that just this once, she might stay dead.

His Master, whoever she was, didn't move a muscle, and he almost deluded himself into thinking that she never would. Instead, she shifted her weight, and the corner of his brain that would always be a traitor knew she would speak.

"Isn't it beautiful, -----?" The name she said, that horrible, disgusting, vile name, was incomprehensible, as it always was. Just as dead as the boy next to her. She always said it. She could never say anything else because she had died with that name and that boy a decade and a half ago.

Though her face was forever lost, gone, taken from him, he could swear she smiled. He remembered how powerfully he hated her. She spoke anyway.

"Half these stars are dead, yet we still see them. Memorials in the sky, sharing their light still."

He could never understand her, understand any of it. He'd forgotten too much of her, killed too much of himself for that. All he had left were these fragments, incomprehensible and infuriating. He despised her. He hadn't always, or at least he hadn't in this memory, because he, the young, traitorous, monstrous, innocent child he could never remember, looked up at the stars, and questioned.

"But... if they're dead... how can we see things that don't exist anymore?"

She laughed, and it wasn't quite right because he couldn't remember how it had sounded. That part of her was gone, lost to time. She was a betrayer and a monster, and her laugh was not something he was allowed to know. When she spoke again, her voice was wrong, harsh, as if she was talking through a vocoder, and he knew it was ending.

"Light never dies, child. It will always exist. If it was there once, even for a second, someone will always be able to see it."

She turned back to him, but of course, she didn't, because she couldn't because she was dead. Her face was gone, and she was gone, and there was nothing. The world shifted in a blaze of fire and explosions and screams, and she was face-down on the ground of a different planet, blaster wounds carved into her flesh, and he was back in his body, back in the black uniform of the Inquisitorious, of the Empire that had killed her. The dream-memory-falsehood broke in front of him, shattering into war and pain and ghosts and torture, and Third Brother woke up.

———

Yeah… bout 300 words of my latest will-never-post WIP. Star Wars au, you could probably tell. I think the conversation is a bit on the nose but it’s ~thematically relevant~ and I can’t find a better way to put it. So yeah. Sorry it’s a little late, I was frantically editing it for two days to make it vaguely presentable.

[ssa-sugar-tits]

Ten Years (ch. 3)

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Content warnings: hospital, cursing, angst

a/n: i feel like this chapter's a little long, sorry!

Despite the multiple half-assed orders from Hotch and Rossi, the sincere begging from JJ and Penelope, and the concerned pushes from Emily and Derek, you refuse to leave the hospital until Spencer wakes up. You can't bring yourself to eat or sleep or even stop to breathe knowing something's so terribly wrong with him. For fuck's sake, all he did was hit his head. There is no plausible reason you can think of that he wouldn't have woken up yet. Drenched in your own exhausted tears and practically shaking with worry, there's a harrowing pit in your stomach. You've been waiting 42 hours and counting with no sign of improvement. He has a mild concussion and will need a few stitches where he bled but he "should be fine." They told you over and over again. And Hotch was forced to step in when you had enough of the empty bullshit in the atmosphere.

"If he's fine, why the hell hasn't he woken up? A mild concussion doesn't fucking do this to someone!" It's simple. The doctors don't know. They don't know how to help your husband. All they can do is spew false reassuring lies at you while they do absolutely nothing. More lengthy hours pass and an MRI is ordered. The same unsurprising thing: nothing's wrong with him. But what are they going to do? Send him away unconscious? No, they're just going to stand around pretending they know what they're fucking doing. You jump at the feeling of a cold hand tapping on your shoulder.

"Hey, it's just me." You look up to see Derek with a dreadfully morbid look on his face, one with tones of anger. "Mind if I sit with you?" Nowhere near able to speak, you try to give him an inviting smile but all you do is lift the corner of your quivering lips slightly. He gets the hint, which he probably would have missed had he not known you so well, and sits down beside you. Staring over at your husband, you hear Derek's head thump against the wall. The feelings you both have are of utter uselessness. Sure, there have been worse situations but... there's nothing either of you can do at all. There's no reasoning here. Well, to your knowledge. Spencer is the only one that knows what's going on. And it's ripping him apart. To not know what happened to his beloved mentor or remember any of the precious moments he's had with Y/N. He hasn't been able to watch the team he remains loyal to change and grow. He just woke up one day and was hurled into this shitty situation. He laughs out of despair at his own shortcomings and lack of comprehending what's been done to him. Y/N and Derek's heads both snap up at the unexpected sound, hopeful and desperate for a sign that Spencer's back. No such luck at first but Derek goes to get the nurse while you navigate your way to your husband's side.

"Love, it's me. I don't know if you can hear me. But whatever this is, whatever's stressed you out so much that you're... literally blocking out the entire fucking world... it'll be okay. I love you Spencer and I promise I always will. Please be okay for me." A disappointed sigh leaves you. Honestly, what did you expect? For him to wake up because you said you love him? This isn't a fucking fairytale Y/N. Derek returns with a nurse who confirms it must have been an unconscious movement so no hope there. Propping your head up with your arm, you try to get some rest for the first time since you arrived. After two more sickening hours pass, you're shaken awake by a nurse.

"Yeah?" you yawn before remembering where you are. Blinking rapidly, you open your eyes fully and look up at the nurse.

"Miss, your husband is awake." He directs a smile at you before exiting the room, leaving you to rush over to Spencer who's already sitting up and muttering to himself.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Tears threaten to fill your eyes when you place a hand on his shoulder and he turns away from your touch.

"I'm fine, th-thank you. Excuse me, doctor?" He waves over the doctor and asks her, "Can I leave now?" She looks a bit startled as if she didn't expect him to want to leave.

"Mr. Reid--"

"Doctor," you correct.

"Ahem, Doctor Reid, our tests have come back fine and healthy but to be frank... We aren't entirely sure why you were unconscious for so long. If you'd like to stay and rest, we'd welcome-- no we strongly suggest that's what you do." You open your mouth to say something but Spencer answers her.

"If I can go then I'd like to now, thanks." It's difficult to process when he's discharged and barely even greets his team that was worried sick. Asking you silently with their sweet glances if he's okay, you can't respond. All you manage to do is bite your lip and shrug before driving him home. Spencer doesn't say a word and the silence is deafening. Incomprehensible even because since when is he this fucking quiet?

"Spence?" You say, not taking your eyes off the road. "Don't you think we should talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"What do you fucking think? So much for genius." An exasperated sigh escapes you before you realize you're being harsh. "I'm sorry I don't mean to snap at you. I was just..."

"Stressed?" He offers, sounding awfully sad.

"Yeah. Stressed," you sigh once more. Your worry slips away for a moment and he presses a kiss to your cheek. His lips brush against your face and you swear he lingers as if wanting to say something but he goes back to staring out the window. Once in the apartment, you expect him to want to rest or at least, spend time with his wife who's been going fucking insane the past couple of days but he locks himself in his office. Giving up, you walk to the bedroom and leave him be.

Spencer speedily walks around the room collecting books, paper, a pen, and even a laptop. It's time to figure out what's going on. First, he reads about the BAU. He learns a lot about Emily Prentiss and how Elle and Gideon left the bureau. Another piece of information he finds is that David Rossi has been apart of the team for 8 years. Hotch's wife is dead and Jack-- the baby he met once briefly is now 10 years old, living alone with Hotch. Going through photo albums and keepsakes he discovers, he finds that his relationships really have grown over the years and so have yours. Who would've thought that the emotionless, serious Aaron Hotcher would walk his wife down the aisle? Agent Prentiss, he saw, was your maid of honor and Morgan was his best man. A small child held JJ's hand and with context, he came to the conclusion that she had a child now. And his eyes land on you. He traces a hand over the photo, cherishing a memory he doesn't have. You look perfect in that wedding dress. The viel falls on your head gracefully. Your smile radiates off the page and he can't help not feeling a sense of loss. You two are happy together and he doesn't remember a second of it. Ironic, isn't it? He thinks. Moving on to the why this is happening, he reads heaps of material for hours straight, faster than someone else would be able to, but still feels like he's getting nowhere. All he has to go off of is the date and theories he's found on forums and in old books. Suddenly its too much and he throws a book across the room, wincing at the sharp thud when it hits the wall. Spencer buries his frustrated face in his hands and lets out a long, deep breath. Y/N. Guilt washes over him as he realizes, this isn't any easier for you. You've spent the past 10 years forming a relationship with your Spencer and you woke up to a distant stranger. If he's going to figure this out, he needs to adjust. Adjust to being with you, the team, this new life of his. Just until he figures things out, right? Settling on going to lay with you-- his wife, he reminds himself-- he hears what sounds like muffled sobs. He opens the bathroom door cautiously and his heart drops to his feet at the sight in front of him. You're sitting in the bathtub, half-dressed crying quietly into your knees and running your hands through your hair. Spencer kneels down beside you and wraps him arms around you tightly. You gasp softly and almost pull away but accept the embrace.

"I'm so sorry," he says sincerely against your hair. Your words come out strung together and your tongue twists while you try to explain how you've been feeling this week.

"N-No I just... I'm just worried about you Spence I'm s-so," you bite down on your quivering lip harshly to avoid choking on a sob and continue. "Everything's different a-and it's like it changed overnight. I don't know what the hell I did to fuck things up. Whatever I did, I'm so sorry." You bury your head deeper into your knees, smearing mascara into streamed lines down your cheeks. The guilt he feels smashes his heart into pieces and throws it to his feet. He said he has to adjust, didn't he? He'll start with you. Spencer already loved you, the only different thing now is that you love him too. His voice softens and he whispers into your ear, stroking your hair and intertwining his fingers with locks of it.

"You've done nothing wrong sweetheart," he assures you, surprising himself with a nickname. "I'll call Hotch and we'll take tomorrow off, just the two of us. We'll go on a date like we used to a-and we can do whatever you'd like. Anything, Y/N just let me take care of you. The way you deserve."

When he's finished, your eyes meet his and you hesitate before nodding. No words leave your mouth but it's as if you don't need them to speak. He helps you up and you make your way to the bed you share.

Falling asleep quickly, you melt into dreams of spending time together and starting to get back to normal. Spencer, on the other hand, is overcome with an intimidating shit load of anxiety. This isn't, in a million years, how he thought his first fucking date with Y/N Y/L/N would be. Then again, this type of... situation never even crossed his wildest dreams. Make the best of it, right? Yeah that's it. He'll do his best.

For you.

[demig00ddess]

Sleeping Beauty

Charlie Weasley x MC

Warning: huge spoilers for Year 6 Chapter 18!

————————————————————

CHAPTER FOUR

THE CONSEQUENCES OF DEATH

    1989.     Middle of the first semester.     The quill in the hands creaked monotonously, writing words on the paper. Professor Binns’ voice and the stifling atmosphere of the office were slowly putting in the trance. Emma bit her cheek more painfully and continued to take notes on the lecture.     Behind the farthest desk, Binns’ rustling voice was hard to hear, so Emma regularly consulted the textbook. Two seats were empty in the first rows. One of them is next to Penny, there was always Rowan. The second — next to Charlie, he occupied it for Emma every lesson. Today Emma quietly slipped into the office just before the start of the lecture so as not to meet with her classmates.     Penny sat down next to Charlie and whispered something in his ear. For some reason, Emma felt as if she had swallowed the bubotuber pus. She shook her head, for sure it seemed to her because of fatigue. She was satisfied with the back seat, but the fact that someone else was sitting in her place next to Charlie was a little annoying. Charlie listened to Penny and nodded absently. He looked around uneasily, trying to see someone or something. Emma was glad that she was safely hidden from the front desks by the backs of her classmates.

    “… delegated authority to Wizn… Wesegn… to Wizengamot.” Emma stubbornly wrote down the professor’s words, despite the fact that her hands were shaking and big blots remained on the parchment.     She felt sleepy, but she could not afford to fall asleep. There was a bright flash of green light in front of closed eyes. The Dreamless Sleep Potion they had been brewing on Potions had run out. The dose from the hospital wing that Madame Pomfrey had advised not to overuse had ended too. But after such a sleep, she got up even more tired.     A flash of green and Rowan’s body falls right in front of her. The friend’s eyes are wide open in surprise, her mouth is slightly open in a silent scream. “Debt collected.” Emma could not bear it, she woke up with a cry and tears in her eyes. The silencing charms she put on her bed every night kept her from waking an already worried Liz. Whatever Merula said, the same charms were imposed on her bed, she could not afford to be considered weak by anyone, not even Izmelda.     Every time Emma closed her eyes, there was a green flash and the body of her best friend fell in front of her. At first, it was only memories of Rowan, but then a deadly beam hit Ben, and he fell dead in front of Emma. Merula died next, then Charlie, Penny, Barnaby, Bill, Tonks. Her friends threw themselves under a killing spell, and she could only watch their lifeless bodies fall to the ground. Emma tried to revive Jae and Badeya, begged Tulip to get up, but they were all dead.     Charlie turned around again and Emma looked away. There was her own cry in her ears when a green beam hit him when the red head hit the ground and her tears fell on the freckles on his still warm face.

    Emma doubled over to stifle the pulling pain and rumbling in her stomach. After eating, she felt sleepy, but she couldn’t sleep. After lights out, she would sit up in the Slytherin common room with her books and send especially curious juniors to the bedrooms.     Most of the teachers averted their eyes from her as if they didn’t want to disturb her. Snape gave her an incomprehensible look as she submitted an essay on the Draught of Living Death a foot longer than he demanded. And Flitwick freed her from homework, after, because of trembling hands, she conjured not a small fountain of water, but a real tsunami, flooding the office.     During the day, Emma wandered and loitered about the castle, avoiding familiar faces. She shunned talking, trying to hide in a niche or take refuge in some class. She felt that some part of her had died and now she could not exist normally. She wandered half-dead.

    An idea came to the head like lightning. Half-dead! Surely! How the thought didn’t occur to her at once. Emma jotted down hastily Binns’ last words.     “Professor! Professor Binns, please wait!” Emma made her way through classmates.     “Um, Underwood? Do you want anything?”     Emma hesitated a little, she didn’t think what exactly she would ask the teacher. The classroom was empty and she finally found the words.     “Professor, I wanted to know about Rowan, Rowan Khanna. She always said that she wanted to be the youngest professor at Hogwarts. Um — Couldn'tshestayherelikeyou?”     “Excuse me?”     “Couldn’t she become a ghost? I mean, you came back to teach students, she could come back too. She would have come up with everything, finish her studies, and then began to teach. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore would have let her! She could have stayed here! Haven’t you… haven’t you seen her?”     Emma blurted it all out in one breath, afraid that the professor would interrupt her. Binns adjusted his glasses and for the first time looked at Emma like that, with the keen, clear gaze that Emma often saw in Dumbledore.     “Miss Khanna was a gifted witch. And for all her love of teaching, she was drawn to explore and learn something new.” Emma stared at the old professor. “So rest assured, Miss Underwood, she went ahead.”     “Went ahead? Where did she go?”     “Unfortunately, I do not possess these facts. But you should know she’s not coming back. I’m sorry, this is a big loss for Hogwarts.” Binn turned and walked through the board.     “For Hogwarts,” Emma repeated. It seemed to her that Rowan had died a second time, again in front of her eyes. She had already seen her friend, ethereal, pearl-silver, but talking to her and laughing. But Rowan went ahead.     Emma stuffed a quill and blob-strewn lecture notes into her bag. She wanted to hide somewhere, in Moaning Myrtle’s toilet or a dark closet. She had no strength to return to the common room.

    At the exit from the class she was caught by someone’s strong hands, Emma jerked sharply, holding a wand to the attacker's neck. She could feel her heart pounding thumping deep in her head. “I have to defend myself.”     “Emma,” Charlie gently moved the trembling wand away from his neck. Emma freed herself from his grasp and dashed down the hallway.     “Emma! I want to talk! Please!”     “Not now, Charlie,” she wanted to hide quickly. Charlie caught up with her and gently turned her around. He didn’t insist but asked. There was not a drop of pity in his bright eyes, they were full of concern. He examined her carefully as if trying to see if she had done something bad to herself.     “You were right,” Emma turned her gaze into his boots. “You better stay away from me. Everyone should stay away from me.”     She turned and walked away. She had already lost one friend and couldn’t bear to lose someone else. Charlie caught up with her again and grabbed her into his arms.     “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should never have said those words to you. You are my — You’re my best friend and I will be by your side. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you.”     Emma shook her head, pulling back.     “Your brothers — ”     “My brothers will support me,” Charlie interrupted her, he was confident in his words. His eyes said that he would not let anyone else hurt her. Emma felt her eyes fill with tears. The students scurried along the corridor and Emma again had a keen desire to hide.     “Come with me,” Charlie whispered in her ear.

    They walked and walked until they came to a sprawling tree near the lake, scaring several of the Hufflepuff freshmen out of there. Charlie hit the ground first, rummaged in his bag, pulled out the sandwiches wrapped in a napkin, and handed it to Emma.     “How long have you not eaten?”     “A couple of days, maybe more,” Emma sat down next to him and sniffed at the sandwiches. “How did you know?”     “Couldn’t find you in the Great Hall.”     Emma took a bite of her sandwich and put it aside, feeling nauseous. Charlie looked at her closely but said nothing. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Emma bit by bit on the sandwich to keep from getting sick.     “I spoke to Nearly Headless Nick. Also asked about… this.”     “What did he say?”     “The same as Binns.”     Emma felt a tear roll down her cheek.     “I saw Rowan’s parents yesterday, they came to pick up her things. I visited them every summer. They loved her so much…”     Emma burst out, talking and talking, ignoring the tears. Charlie just sat there and listened. When Emma finished and exhaled helplessly, he leaned her head on his shoulder and began to speak. He told her stories that he had heard from his mother as a child. He talked about the books he had read. Emma lay on his shoulder and listened, inhaling the scent of grass, honeysuckle, and something else very familiar. She didn’t notice as her eyes began to close, and Charlie’s voice seemed to ring out farther and farther.

    She didn’t get much sleep, Emma woke up from her own scream, she was tossing around, not knowing where she was. She was choking on tears and couldn’t breathe, it seemed that someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs.     “Shh. I’m here, everything is fine,” Charlie’s quiet and soft voice rang out over her ear. He put his arm around Emma, stroking her hair soothingly. She sobbed and grabbed his hand, afraid to let go.     “Do you want me to tell a tale about the fountain of Fair Fortune?” asked Charlie a few minutes later, when Emma calmed down. She nodded.     “Jacob used to tell me this story when I couldn’t sleep.”     “Now you need to sleep too. I’m not such a good storyteller, but I hope you like it. High on a hill in an enchanted garden, enclosed by tall walls and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune…”

    When Emma woke up, the sun was already setting, she was lying on Charlie’s lap, covered by his jacket. Charlie himself was reading a book, only wearing a sweater. Emma jumped awkwardly and blushed.     “Did you get some sleep?” Charlie pulled out a blade of grass tangled in her hair. The tips of his ears turned pink. Emma nodded in surprise, she slept for hours without nightmares. “You smiled in your sleep. I missed it, your smile I mean.”     Emma flushed and hastily turned away, pretending to straighten her clothes. She vaguely remembered what she had dreamed, but Charlie was definitely there. “Well, he’s your friend, the others must have been in the dream too,” she told herself.

    Charlie had already packed his things, got to his feet and gave her a hand. Emma got up, too, and handed him his jacket.     “Don’t,” Charlie threw the jacket over her shoulders. “You can freeze after sleep.”     “Are we going to the castle yet?” Emma tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.     “We’re in time for dinner. Sit down at the Gryffindor table, okay? You need to eat, and you're boycotting food.” Emma’s stomach purred in agreement. Charlie gave her a bribing look, “Penny also wanted to sit with us while we are allowed.”     “Oh,” at the mention of Penny, appetite disappeared.     “Oh?” Charlie asked. “Did you have a fight?”     “No, I didn’t mean that.” Emma said, not understanding why she was angry at Penny. She always supported Emma and wished only the best for her.     They walked in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Emma broke down.     “You and Penny have become very close, haven’t you?”     “Yes,” Charlie said simply. “Especially recently. We spend a lot of time together.”     “Oh,” Emma said again, and they both fell silent.

    An unpleasant weight filled Emma’s chest, making her difficult to breathe. She noticed this even during their trip to Romania, but then she wasn’t up to it, she was too keen on their adventure. But since… since the moment… Emma couldn’t bring herself to say what had happened even in her thoughts. For the last couple of weeks, Charlie and Penny have hardly ever parted, and for some reason it hurt her.     Emma was happy for her friends, she loved both Penny and Charlie, as friends, of course. And it was great that they got together. Something was still gnawing at her, but Emma brushed the thought away. She didn’t want to be selfish, and even more she didn’t want to interfere with the happiness of her best friends. Especially in these times.

    “Glad for you,” Emma said already at the castle.     “Sorry?” Charlie snapped out of his thoughts.     “I’m glad for you and Penny, that you’re getting close,” she explained, trying to avoid Charlie’s gaze.     “Thank you,” Charlie looked surprised, letting her into the Great Hall.     “I’ll eat at my table,” Emma said sullenly.     “But — ”     “I’ll eat, I promise. I just… want to eat at my usual place. Alone,” she added hastily, noticing that Charlie had something to say. He nodded and gave her a confused smile.     “Then I’ll see you later, right?”     They went in opposite directions, joining their classmates. A few minutes later, Penny entered the Great Hall and went straight to the Gryffindor table. Charlie said something to Penny, who was smiling contentedly. Emma poked at the broccoli with her fork and looked away from the chatting couple.

    After dinner, Emma hurried down to the dungeons, once again avoiding her friends, and began to write an essay on the Orion constellation. It wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that she realized that she hadn’t given Charlie his jacket back. Already in bed, having applied a silencing charm, Emma picked up the jacket in her hands, pondered for a couple of seconds and wrapped herself in it, curling up on the bed. The familiar smells immediately enveloped her, and she closed her eyes.     “Cinnamon” flashed through her head in the dream. The smell that haunted her for a long time was the light scent of cinnamon. It smelled like that at home when, years ago, her dad made cinnamon rolls, according to grandmother’s recipe. Emma buried her nose in the jacket and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

    It was the second time in two weeks that she had no nightmares.

[sohin-ace]

Headcanons for bucci gang for a selectively mute fem!s/o speaking for the first time and their first words to them were the words "I love you so much" paired with a pure and genuinely happy smile 💝💗💝💖

This is THE CUTEST THING!

This hit a bit too close to home and I cried a bit while writing this.

I'm sorry it took so long, I wanted to take my time on this one. Hopefully you'll like it!

Bucci gang w/ a selectively mute S/O speaking for the first time HC

Bucciarati:

When you first joined, Bruno insisted to take you to a professional to maybe do something about your mutism.

He felt concerned and a bit defeated when you refused, but he didn't push it. After all, it didn't affect your performances on missions or anything.

"If you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to say anything, amore."

He knew that it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but again, he would never force you out of your comfort zone.

One night, Bruno stayed in his office to take care of endless paperwork, as usual.

It was around 3 a.m. when he heard a gentle knock on his door.

When you shyly entered and closed the door behind you he was surprised to see you'd still be awake.

He got up and joined you halfway when you had slowly reached out to him. He could read it in your eyes, you had something important to tell him.

Worried, he approached you and held your arm as you said, soft and strained.

"I... Love you... So.. Much, Bruno." You had accompagnied your words with a beautiful yet shy smile and Bruno's eyes widened.

He couldn't contain his gasp as he gripped both your arms tightly.

"Y/N... What... What did you- Did you just-... I'm losing my mind... C-could you say that again?! Oh please God, let me hear it again-"

You were shocked by his reaction.

The usually so calm and composed Bruno Bucciarati was sounding so desperate and in the verge of breaking down.

He softened his eyes on you, but you could see from the way his chest heaved uncontrollably that he was bottling his emotions.

He gently held your face and leaned your forehead against his.

"You are so strong, my Y/N... It must have been so hard for you..."

His hair tingled your face and when you moved some strands behind his ears delicately, he started shaking.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he let out a hearty laugh, his eyes wet and the lump in his throat painful.

"Tesoro mio, I'm so proud of you. I feel so blessed to hear your angelic voice... Just for me... God..."

He held you flush against him and his mind raced with the sound of your voice.

Abbachio:

You had found him alone one night, a bottle of wine in front of him.

You knew damn well he would drink his blues away when he thought everyone was asleep and you hoped this would cheer him up a little bit.

You walked up to him and he jumped, startled, only relaxing when he noticed it was just you.

He looked down at his empty glass in silence. What could he say? There was nothing to say.

He knew you wouldn't ask questions and he wouldn’t answer them anyway. You could only silently judge his pathetic, worthless self. Or so he thought.

You carefully snaked you arms around his neck from behind, as gentle as you could be.

"I love you so much... Leone.. Leone..."

His heart almost stopped. He tensed up as his chest started to hurt.

Was he drunk? No, he didn’t even drink that much already, he could hold his liquor way more than that-

"Y/-..."

He could barely finish saying your name when he turned his head to look at you, a sweet and genuine smile gracing your face.

He stood up so abruptly he almost knocked you and his chair down as he pounced on your smaller form.

He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched your shirt in his fists, desperately clinging onto you as he buried his crying face in your neck. Gosh he couldn't let you see him like this.

But at the same time, he couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy. Or just happy at all.

"You spoke my name... Of all things... You said my name... Gosh your voice is... I don't deserve you..."

Your voice echoed in his mind and for once, he was so extremely grateful to have Moody Blues to replay that exact moment, over and over.

He couldn't get enough of it.

He replayed your words before sleeping, when he woke up, when he felt like drinking...

Giorno:

Giorno was a fairly quiet person himself.

Due to his background he grew to know to stay silent when necessary, so he understood you.

He related to you a lot, never pushed your boundaries to speak up and made it easier for you by asking 'yes or no' questions.

It didn't change the fact that in his eyes, you were a beautiful and strong person, worthy of love and respect.

Still, he wished you would open up to him one day.

You two were just peacefully watching the horizon, the breeze and quietness of the city making the moment very romantic.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?"

He did not expect an answer of course, but he still loved to speak to you, as he knew you were always listening.

You looked at him dead in the eyes and you choked a small hesitant gasp, still unsure of yourself.

He leaned down. "What's wrong, amore?"

Upon seeing his soft green eyes, you felt encouraged and spoke up while fidgeting with his blonde braid.

"I love you so much... Giogio..."

His eyes widened and his lips parted, completely taken aback. But upon seeing the adorable, sweet smile you were gifting him, he could hardly control back his actions.

He instantly held your face and brought you in for a passionate and loving kiss that spoke all the words for him.

You had felt his tears streaming on your own face, but he was sure to not show them to you as he immediately held you against him after pulling away.

"So brave... To speak your confession to me like this... My angel..."

Mista:

Mista was leisurely chilling on the couch, drinking some soda when you sat down next to him.

"Sup babe?"

You tugged on his shirt and he automatically leaned down to your level, not without a little hum of confusion.

Oh, did you want to kiss him? Haha, cute.

But then you gently cupped his ear and leaned your lips towards him.

"I... Love you... so much..." The last words died in a soft whisper.

When you let go of him to see his reaction, he didn't budge a muscle.

He dropped his drink and spilled it all over his pants and the floor. Oh but he didn't even care, he was completely stunned.

He would have been frozen in place till the end of time if you didn't shake him out of it.

"B-babe- oh my god... OH MY GOD HOLY FUCKING- Y/N !!!"

He litterally jumped out of his seat and howled to the whole headquarter.

"YOU TALKED!!?? MY BABY SPOKE WORDS HAHAHA HOLY SHIT BRO OH MY GOD!!! YOOO EVERYBODY COME HERE!!!"

The Pistols flew out everywhere and cheered with their user who was still jumping and grabbing at his head in pure euphoria.

He couldn't stop laughing and he tackled you down on the couch, holding you tight like you would disappear.

"You are so amazing, Y/N, my baby, oh my god, I love you too-"

He couldn't stop peppering your face with kisses after that.

Narancia:

Spare this boy. He was especially sensitive to your condition.

Why didn't you speak to them? Bucciarati said you could talk, but you didn't?

No matter how many times he was explained the situation, he didn't get it.

He always tried to make you laugh, and joked around. It didn't make you talk, but surely it made you fall for him.

He eventually accepted the silent treatment but still asked you so many questions.

"What's your voice like?" "Do you have an accent?" "Were you always mute?" "What do you scream when you stub your toe?"

One random day you approached him and hugged him very suddenly.

"O-oh- What's going on cutie?"

He had a goofy smile on his face and reciprocated the soft embrace before you backed up a bit, looking into his eyes.

"Narancia... I love you... So.. So much..."

...Was it real? Was this really happening?

He let out an incomprehensible yelp and stuttering sounds of confusion and shock.

"E-eeh.. Whaa-.. Uh... Whu... Ah-..?!"

He cupped his face, covered his mouth, grabbed his head, he didn't know what to do, how to react, he was so shaken and distraught.

He eventually started to sob loudly and his eyes watered freely. He was so moved.

"Your voice, Y/N- your voice..!"

His own voice cracked into a high pitched squeak and he grabbed your shoulders, hanging his head low and broke down completely.

You carefully patted and carressed his arms and back in comfort.

"Y/N! Y/N! YOUR VOICE IS SO PRETTY OH MY GOD PLEASE SAY SOMETHING ELSE PLEASE PLEASE IT'S BEAUTIFUL YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL DAMN-"

He was so scared it would be the first and last time he ever heard you.

It was so difficult to calm him down.

Fugo:

He actually made a lot of research on selective mutism to understand what it's like, what causes it etc.

He felt concerned that you would have to go through something like this when you were such a good and kind person.

He liked how your silent calm nature contrasted with his own angry one and he was thankful to have someone like you to help him tone down.

You had come up behind him one day after he got extremely frustrated with Narancia.

He was fuming and clearly, whatever you wanted right now, he was not in the mood for it.

You only grabbed his hand gently and rubbed the back of it, sending him a sweet smile.

"I love you... So, so much..."

He flinched and subconsciously clenched your hand. Hard.

What was that? WHAT WAS THAT?

His eyes were wide as saucers and his entire body stopped responding.

"...Y/N?" He called weakly, thinking foolishly that maybe that wasn't really you in front of him.

You sweetly caressed his cheek and he looked like he was going to pass out.

Everytime he tried to form words, they would come in short breaths. He was so overwhelmed, he had such a difficult time processing his emotions.

For the first time, you saw him smile a genuine smile of happiness as he shakily put his hand over yours holding his face, nuzzling into your touch.

"I... I love you too... You are so incredible, you sound so much better than I ever expected."

Trish:

Trish always tried her best to make you speak.

She knew she shouldn't push you, but she wanted you to feel okay and safe with everyone.

She was a bit shy herself and didn't have the best background for growing up into a loud person.

One day, you went to her and grabbed her attention. When she turned around, and you finally spoke your love to her, so softly, so quietly, she immediately jumped.

"I... I love you Trish... So, so much."

"Wha-... What did you say...?" She is breathless and can't help but cover her mouth in pure shock.

Surely she hallucinated just now, right?

You grin at her dumbfounded expression and her mouth opens and closes as she doesn't even know what to say or where to start.

This is not like she was used to being told she was loved, but from you? This was like a dream!

You noticed the tears brimming in her eyes and she bit her lips before she buried her face in her hands.

You had to take her in your arms and hold her tight while she sobbed.

It's only when you start patting her back gently that she realises this isn't a dream.

She immediataly coils her arms tightly around your neck and stutters, overwhelmed.

"I can't believe it, I can't believe it, I can't believe it-"

You chuckle quietly and she cries even harder when she finally hears your laughing voice.

[kitkatopinions]

There is a bit from a SFDebris review (YouTube psychojaneway sometime), that really speaks to the tragedy of Ironwood, or at least how Mettle should’ve been portrayed). I’ll post the monologue (sorry for length).

This is a really interesting way of looking at James’s semblance and I really like it. I want to make a post pretty soon about how I personally think his semblance should’ve worked and how they should’ve applied it, but this is probably my favorite explanation of how it might work in the actual show. Long post full of RWBY crit and Ironwood defense under the keep reading. If you hate criticism or bashing of CRWBY and hate Ironwood, this post isn’t for you.

Funnily enough, I’ve written a RWBY character having a semblance that acted as a defense mechanism that shut down feelings like doubt, grief, loss, stress, so on and so forth. Before season seven came out, I’d written one of the pre-existing characters to have thought for most of his life that his semblance was passive and was good luck, only for it to later be revealed that his passive semblance was actually survival, and it’d been forcing him to do whatever it took to survive, whether that meant rewriting his moral code when circumstances demanded it, making him skate by incredibly dangerous circumstances sometimes without a scratch on him, or making him just survive even getting eaten by a giant Grimm and promptly blown up. Yep, this guy right here.

In application, this semblance pushed Roman from an optimistic would-be-hunter kid not very different from V1 Ruby, into the uncaring and cruel criminal who beats up on kids and laughingly aids in the destruction of Fall of Beacon that we see in the actual show over the course of around twenty years. In my fic, he survived the Grimm attack and later learned from runaway Emerald and Mercury that Salem planned to destroy the world - which then activated his semblance into another change and caused him to join the heroes (with Emerald and Mercury in tow) in order to try and find Neo at the same time he helped stop Salem, which was a long, painstaking process, and people only started to come around to him after his semblance was revealed to everyone including him, and it was a whole big thing. But that isn’t the point. Sorry for rambling. XD

My point is, this is a very interesting concept that I already loved in theory. It was a handy way to redeem an otherwise very hard to redeem character for my fanfictions, but it also gave some angst and presented all the characters with some very hard to answer questions. And there was also a question of just how much Roman could be blamed for, since his semblance technically hadn’t made him do anything, and had instead slowly stripped him of his morality in a loop he could’ve probably broken early on, but hadn’t, and had instead blamed everyone else. To use a probably faulty metaphor, he’d been sliding down a slope already, he just wasn’t responsible for the avalanche that made his fall faster and more destructive.

Ironwood being in a very similar position is such an interesting concept. His passive semblance acting as a defense mechanism that pushes him to do what he thinks needs to be done, but then latches onto that and pushes him to do whatever he can for that one goal while stripping him of his morality is something that makes his character much, much more understandable, sympathetic, and very easy to redeem. But it also doesn’t excuse him of everything. He still arguably set the path for himself, he still was arguably responsible for how he started down the decline, and he has to deal with the fact that whether or not he was entirely culpable, he still hurt people and that hurt isn’t going to go away just because it wasn’t James’s fault that he got so bad. He started slipping down the slope, but he wasn’t responsible for the avalanche that made his fall faster and more destructive.

And while it clearly wasn’t slow going growth over the course of twenty years, and his circumstances were so suddenly severe that it feels less like James had outs, with this interpretation we can gauge stages of how much his semblance seems to affect him.

Stage 1. Barely affected

He still has clarity, is able to hold himself back, does things even though he might not think it’s the best course because he trusts and listens to others, clearly cares about everyone, seems like a very reasonable person, so on and so forth.

Stage 2. Somewhat affected

We don’t see much of James here, but we see that he’s flexing his power over Jacques, pulling back his forces from the other Kingdoms, threatening - All for very good reasons, all understandable, all incredibly sympathetic, but still, it seems a bit too much.

Stage 3. Is it him or is it his semblance?

There’s a lot of good James did or was trying to do in season seven, not everything - in fact, very little - he did was evil, it was all well intentioned, it was all in pursuit of good goals. But, he was neglecting what Mantle needed. That doesn’t mean that he didn’t try to protect the people of Mantle, he’s the one who started the evacuations in the first place, after all. But we can see that he’s focusing on his end goals and letting other things fall on the back burner, even important things. I don’t think this is outside of his character, but with the application of his semblance, there’s the question: How much of it is James and how much of it is his passive semblance building up and pushing him into things he otherwise might not do? However, there’s still this softness, still the fact that he’s trying, still the fact that his back is to a wall, still the fact that underneath ‘what he has to do I.E. his semblance’ he’s clearly still himself, his semblance hasn’t taken him over to the point where he’s hard to recognize. Theeennnnnn there’s

Stage 4. This isn’t ‘James,’ this is his semblance.

This doesn’t connect with the earlier seasons at all. This was a rapid fire quick and jerky fall that didn’t fit with his earlier character (no I won’t argue this point, Ironwood haters don’t @ me.) The only thing that really can make this make sense for me is James’s semblance manifesting in a strong way that eclipses his personality. Personally I still think it’s godawful writing because A. his semblance isn’t even mentioned in the show, so it feels like a stupid and totally out of character forced sudden jump, even if the writers ‘intended it to be because of his semblance,’ but also B. because it went too fast still, so there isn’t as much of an impact here. However, the potential is astronomical! James’s semblance has taken control of him, and it might be his fault that he started down this road and started slipping, but now this isn’t him anymore, he can’t actually stop himself from doing these things, his semblance is acting as a form of partial mind control, forcing him to not care about anything outside of his one goal ‘save Atlas,’ to the point where there is no reasoning with him, and he can’t help it. Tbh, the fact that his aura broke and they decided to keep going with ‘evil Ironwood’ is such an incomprehensible mistake imo. There’s every possibility that his aura was already replenished by the time he woke back up and his cell went down and his brain said ‘kill Jacques’ for who knows what reason, but there’s also the possibility that CRWBY was just like ‘people were expecting the semblance we literally gave James that makes him much less responsible for anything he did to matter and for us to make him sympathetic in the narrative, and for our story to therefore make more sense? RIP to those amateurs, they should know by now that we don’t use good concepts!’

Like, the concept of how it could work in action is so good and I honestly would really enjoy it in practice in the show. Unfortunately, the writers suck too much for that and throw good concepts away on a whim.

[be11atrixthestrange]

“Er-My-Nee”

From Completely Mental

"Who'd want to kill Slughorn?"

"Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side," said Harry. "Slughorn was in hiding for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And. . . " He thought of the memory Dumbledore had not yet been able to extract from Slughorn. "And maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore. "

"But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas," Ginny reminded him. "So the poisoner could just as easily have been after Dumbledore. "

"Then the poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well," said Hermione, speaking for the first time in hours and sounding as though she had a bad head cold. "Anyone who knew Slughorn would have I known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself. "

"Er-my-nee," croaked Ron unexpectedly from between them

They all fell silent, watching him anxiously, but after muttering incomprehensibly for a moment he merely started snoring.

******

Harry, Ginny, Fred and George were the only ones left in the Hospital wing when Ron finally woke up. He opened his eyes slowly, before looking around him and letting out a groan. "What the bloody hell."

"Ron!" shrieked Ginny.

"You're alive!" said George.

"Yeah, we were starting to think our gift might have been a waste of money," said Fred.

"Well now it's a waste," said George. "If you had died, we could have returned it."

"Shut up you two," said Ron, but he was grinning. "Is anyone going to tell me how I got here?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Harry.

Ron sighed. "I remember sobering up from a love potion and realizing that I'd been obsessing over Romilda Vane for half an hour."

"Ah," said Fred. "Wouldn't want him calling for a girl who's not his girlfriend. How embarrassing."

Harry shot Fred a glare, but Ginny chuckled.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron.

Harry quickly filled in the gaps for Ron, explaining that the mead was poisoned, and that's how he ended up in the hospital wing.

"So now," said Ginny, picking away at some chocolates that Mrs. Weasley had left by Ron's bedside table, "We are trying to figure out who hates you enough to do you in."

Ron chuckled. "Just like the love potion, I don't think the mead was for me. Careful with those by the way, wouldn't want you to accidentally fall in love," he said motioning toward the chocolates she was eating.

"I'm kidding of course," said Ginny, ignoring Ron. "Slughorn said the mead was for Dumbledore, but he doesn't remember who gave it to him."

"Harry seems to think it's Malfoy," said George. "And as usual, everyone else thinks he's mental."

Harry shrugged. He was still convinced, but it wasn't worth a fight.

"And Hermione reckons it's an amateur, someone who doesn't know what they're doing," continued Fred. "Because whoever it was should have assumed Slughorn would have kept the mead for himself."

"Sorry, what?" said Ron incredulously.

"She said it's probably someone who's inexperienced in the art of… you know, killing people. Because they're doing a shite job."

"Not that. When did you speak to Hermione?" he asked.

Harry looked across the bed to see that Ginny was smirking at him. He felt knots in his stomach.

"She was just here," said Fred. "You talked to her."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did."

Ron shot a questioning glance at Harry, who nodded. "She was here."

"Why?" asked Ron, now sitting up in bed.

"Because you're friends," said George cautiously.

"Are we?" Ron's question was more directed at Harry. Fred and George shared an amused, yet confused look. Ginny was beaming.

Harry nodded. "She was really upset when I told her what happened."

"She was?" Ron's face was reddening. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"You mean Lavender?" asked Harry.

Ron nodded once. Fred and George had now joined Ginny in beaming.

"Lavender doesn't know. Do you want me to tell her?"

Ron shook his head quickly. "I mean, she'll find out, I'm sure."

George burst out laughing. "Ron!"

"What?"

"We didn't know you had created such a mess with the ladies!"

"I haven't—"

"Oh please," said Fred. "You are dating Lavender, accidentally swallow a love potion from Romilda, and then get a little too excited about Hermione visiting you, and you don't even want your girlfriend to know you're in the hospital."

"That's what we mean by 'a mess'," finished George.

"George, maybe he doesn't need the book," said Fred.

"Oh, he definitely needs the book," laughed Fred. "Or he'll never get out of this."

"What book?

Fred nodded toward the small pile of presents at his bedside. "You'll find it."

Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged.

"Well, since you're fine now," said Ginny, standing up. "I'm going to go." She hoisted her back over her shoulder and looked back at Ron. "Would you like me to tell Hermione you're awake? Because I will."

Ron simply glared at his sister, and she turned toward the door.

"I'll tell her," she said over her shoulder, laughing.

Harry turned back to see Ron's flaming red face, while Fred and George sniggered.

"Happy Birthday, bro."

[straycat-writes]

jaaneman // जानेमन  // جان ِ من (nakahara chuuya)

jaaneman // जानेमन  // جان ِ من (persian, n.) - “soul of me” or “life of me”; gender-neutral word for sweetheart or darling

requested by: anonymous

notes: post-corruption conversations, in honour of chuuya’s birthday. and also because i was supposed to have written this ages ago. not proof read because i’m lazy and tired.

When Chuuya woke up, he was disoriented for a while. Every bone in his body screamed in agony, and his quickened breaths made it feel like he might as well be swallowing crushed glass. There was a pounding ache in his skull that dimmed all other sensations in comparison, and for a moment, he wished he would just lose consciousness again.

He knew he wouldn’t, though. This wasn’t the first time this was happening, and although it was every bit as shitty as every time else, at least he knew what to expect. His senses were out of focus, the sounds of his surroundings only incomprehensible static, while his eyes registered vague blurs of movement.

He blinked once, then twice, then several times before he could finally focus.

“You’re awake.” She murmured, and Chuuya heard the smile of relief in her voice before he saw it.

She was sitting beside him on the bed, knees drawn up to her chin. Slowly putting her hand on one of his limp cold ones, she smiled wearily. She looked tired, and he wondered how long she had been sitting there. He wanted to say something to reassure her, but his throat felt too scratchy to speak. He tried to sit up slowly, but his stomach suddenly clenched violently.

He shot out of bed, despite every single muscle in his body pleading in protest, and ran into the bathroom at record speed.  As he hurled up the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, he heard her rush into the bathroom after him. She sighed, before coming to crouch down beside him, holding back his hair as he retched some more.

Chuuya heaved for what felt like minutes before he finally slumped back down onto the floor. Wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he leaned his head back and closes his eyes.

“Feel better?” she asked softly, brushing some strands of his hair out of his eyes, and he wondered if he should tell her that she was miserably failing to hide the concern in her eyes.

“Not…really.” The two words took immense effort for him to get out. His voice sounded scratchy, though from disuse or from the vomit, he couldn’t tell. “How long was I out for?”

“A couple of days, give or take.” She replied.

He lightly rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Jesus…”

A vague sequence of events was reconstructing itself in Chuuya’s dazed mind. Despite his explicit threats, he was sure Dazai must have left him after he passed out, right where they ha faced that Lovecraftian monstrosity, and Mori, knowing Dazai better than anyone, must have sent someone to retrieve Q and Chuuya.

“Mori-san had me dropped right back home?”

“Along with your coat.” She shrugged, “You did tell him you don’t like hospitals, after all.”

Chuuya got up on unsteady feet, shakily making his way towards the sink. That was true, he hated hospitals. But it wasn’t her job to clean up after his mess either. He could only imagine what it must have been like for her, being handed his broken and bloodied body and asked to keep him alive.

Speaking of, there was not a spot of blood on him now. Chuuya felt a pang of guilt, as he imagined her all alone with his unconscious body, scrubbing the blood from his clothes and desperately trying to hold him together. He knew he wouldn’t have died, but that did not make it any less damaging.

He got out of the bathroom after cleaning himself up, still swaying slightly on his feet. She had gone to fetch him a towel, which she handed to him now.

He sighed, slumping back down at the edge of the bed, elbows propped on his knees, both hands supporting his still aching head, “…I’m sorry.”

She raised a confused eyebrow, “What for?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely around himself, “Everything. This shouldn’t be your problem.”

“Come on,” she rolled her eyes, coming to sit beside him “You know it’s not like that.”

“No? You must have been scared.”

She sighed deeply, then leaned slightly sideways, resting her head on his shoulder. Chuuya could tell she was just as exhausted as he was.

“I was…” she admitted, “I always am, every time you use corruption. But what am I supposed to do about it, Chuuya? I cannot just up and leave.”

His heart thudded once in his chest, “Why not?”

She laughed lightly, but then stopped when she looked up at his face, “Oh, you’re being serious? You have got to be kidding me. Why do you think, dimwit?”

He didn’t reply, just looking at her with wide, questioning blue eyes.

She sighed, averting her gaze, before she finally murmured, “Because I love you…What do I have to do to get you to believe that?”

Chuuya’s heart swelled slightly in his chest. He did believe her. There was not a doubt in his mind that she loved him. He was just afraid that she might love him a little too much.

He placed one hand on her cheek lightly, dipping to place a short, chaste kiss on her lips, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Neither do I deserve you.” She laughed lightly, “Guess we’ll both just have to settle.”

Chuuya smiled. He loved that about her. She never let him say anything negative about himself, always turning his words around until they sounded…merrier somehow. Chuuya was…rough around the edges, and even though he was very much alive and burning with life and power, he always felt as if there was something missing without her by his side.

“Are you hungry?” she asked after a while, “I can fix something for you.”

“Nah, don’t bother.” He waved a hand, “I’ll probably just throw it back up.”

That was just another one of the many post-corruption side-effects, but Chuuya was used to it. Nevertheless, she stood up.

“Then I’ll make you some chamomile tea, that might help settle your stomach. How does that sound?”

He smiled, “Lovely. Thank you, love.”

She smiled, bending down to kiss his cheek once, before leaving. Chuuya watches her retreating figure, head swarming with a million thoughts.

He goes on a lot of overseas missions, for some reason, Mori-san prefers him for that job. Just last month, he went to some central Asian country, which might be an odd thing for him to remember right at that moment, except he remembered that people there called their loved ones ‘jaaneman’, which literally means ‘soul of me’.

Even back when he had first heard it, the term had reminded him of her. But right now, he quite literally felt their weight. Soul of me. It was true. If Chuuya was the fire, the life inside of a body, she was the soul.

Each time he used corruption, he felt hollower than the last time, like something had just been taken from him. His only solace was to crawl back into her arms, because no matter how bloodied or broken, he knew she would always take care of him. Because she made the emptiness go away.

How fitting, he thought with a rueful smile, he was only alive until his soul refused to leave him. And luckily, she was holding on tight. He loved her, so much more than his own life, so much more than he could ever put into words. He sighed, getting up and swaying slightly,

“Chuuya ~” he heard her call from the kitchen, “Come, your tea is getting cold.”

Despite the ache permeating every inch of his body, a small smile tugged at his lips. “Coming.”

[giuliafc]

Stuck in a Cabin (with you)

Stuck in a Cabin (with you)

Read on: Ao3 || FFN || Wattpad

Summoned to save his Lady's life, Adrien gets stuck with her in a cabin during a blizzard. Identities get revealed, feelings come out...but who's been plotting to kill Marinette? Will the culprit be punished? Read to find the answer :) (Adrienette)

Written by: JuliaFC

Betas: Khanofallorcs, Agrestebug, Etoile-Lead-Sama and genxha. Thank you all so much!

Cover Art credit: Rosehealer02 on Deviantart

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 1 — Lila’s plan

Lila sighed looking at the message that had just pinged on her phone.

Mamma: [Sorry, tesoro. I got stuck at work because of the snow, don’t know when I’ll get home tonight. If you want, you can order something. Otherwise dried pasta is in the first cupboard at the side of the hob. I’ll make it up to you. Love you!]

Even after all those years, messages like those left a hollow feeling into her heart. Lila had been moving around a lot in the last few years, because of her mother’s job. She hated her mother’s job. Because of it, Lila had had to leave her grandparents and aunt in Sicily and all her childhood friends. Besides, her mother had been completely absent since she started working at the embassy, sometimes not even coming back home before Lila went to bed. Sometimes she wouldn’t see her for days in a row because when she woke up to go to school, mamma was sleeping and when Lila would go to bed, mamma wouldn’t even have started to come home. Mamma tried to make up for it by filling her days off with a lot of activities they could do together, but that wasn’t enough for Lila. She wanted more. She wanted her mother all for herself, like she had been at home, when papà had been there and mamma hadn’t yet obtained her role at the Italian Embassy.

She had been moved around like a pawn: Vienna for a couple of years, then Berlin, Geneva, Dublin and finally Paris. A lot for a 14 year old girl, having to leave it all behind way too many times.

When she moved to Vienna, she had been bullied quite badly because of her accent and her difficulty speaking the language. She had been ostracised and had spent the better part of two years fighting against stupid kids that she couldn’t even understand very well. Add to the mix the fact that papà ended up having an affair and mamma decided to divorce and leave him, and Lila’s life became even worse, even lonelier.

Luckily her mother had been moved to Berlin, but the situation hadn’t improved for her. Vienna or Berlin, the language was still incomprehensible to her and the kids didn’t like her because she was new, uncool, and because her accent sucked. Because her skin was too olive. Because her hair was too brown, or her eyes too green. They used to make fun of her hairstyle, of her clothes, of anything they could put their hands on. Lila started developing a huge amount of rage, frustration and anger. Plus, she missed her papà terribly, and she couldn’t understand in her mind why her mamma had decided to leave him.

Then she moved to Geneva, and on her first day there she met a girl who ‘acted’ cool. She was a couple of years older than Lila; her name was Charlotte, but she allowed Lila to call her Lottie. She took her under her wing and gave her some very interesting lessons. Lottie was a manipulative wench. She used to be the most popular girl in class because she always knew what to say in order to flatter the interlocutor, twist words around and obtain their favour. Lila was fascinated by her ability and craved to learn how to do the same. She worked for months to copy Lottie’s mannerisms and behaviour.

‘In life, you need to always take the upper hand,’ Lottie told her. ‘Tell people what they want to hear. This will automatically bring them to your side, and when you have them wrapped around your little finger, there’s nothing that they won’t do for you. You just need to keep up the appearances and you’re set for life.

‘Always settle for the best. If you set your eyes on a boy, make sure that he’s the best catch in the whole school. Make sure to understand what he likes and slowly set your trap. Let him fall for you, and you’ll be automatically the most popular gal around.’ Lottie had proved her own advice right easily, and had ended up in a relationship with a pop singer that attended their school. That increased her popularity even more and Lila became much more envious of her.

‘If someone bothers you, destroy them before they can attack you, or as soon as you can after that,’ was Lottie’s last bit of advice.

Lottie taught Lila to act cool, taught her that image was everything. Soon ,they had become like twin sisters and instead of being the bullied one, for once Lila enjoyed the feeling of being the bully. They were L&L’s, and they were respected. Her heart broke the day her mother told her that they were moving again, but she had no choice. Saying goodbye to Lottie was one of the most difficult things she had to do in her still young life.

‘Stay strong, Lil,’ Lottie had told her. ‘Remember, image is everything. Teach those Dubliners how great you are and you won’t have any trouble. And if you do,’ she added with a wink, ‘send me a message and I’ll hop on the first flight!’

That had made her laugh. Lottie acted strong and rich, but Lila knew that in reality she would never have been able to uphold her promise, as she was still too young, and had no money.

Dublin hadn’t been that bad for her. Except the weather. The HORRIBLE Irish weather. She still had nightmares of the torrential rain and the storms. But at least, there was the sea. Lila had missed the sea so much in the last few years. She used to make excuses that she was sick, to skip school, take the DART metropolitan train and get off at Portmarnock, Greystones or Bray (more the first two than the latter, because the sandy beach reminded her more of the shores at home). She would walk on the beach without a care in the world, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the sand.

She had followed Lottie’s advice and had acted cool as soon as she started in her new school. She had gotten used to lying when she was in Geneva under Lottie’s wing, and now the lies came out more natural than the truth. She had become immediately popular when she started, managing to get into a relationship with the most exclusive guy in the class (she didn’t like him, as he was a twat, so full of himself that you could hear him boasting from a distance, but she didn’t care. He was popular and that was all that mattered. He would never realise that she was only using him). She learned how to trick everybody, making them think that she knew all sorts of actors and celebrities. It was fantastic, she was loved and popular and her life was amazing. She was so upset when her mother was moved once more.

And that’s how she ended up in Paris — again far from her beloved sea. She hated the city, she hated the noise and the frantic way of life. Despite the horrible weather, she had loved Dublin because it was smaller and reminded her more of the small town she was born in. But Paris was massive, full of people, of noise. She couldn’t stand the noise. And she hated all those lights. Ville lumière my foot.

Immediately as she started in Françoise Dupont, she tried to remake the same setting she had carefully created in her previous location. But she found the big obstacle of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The most annoying girl Lila had ever dealt with. Except Ladybug, obviously. Such a tiny girl, but such a big problem for her, and for her resolution to follow Lottie’s footsteps. From the very beginning, Marinette had never fallen for her lies. From the very beginning, she had tried to unmask her and show to everyone her true colours. From the very beginning, she had been an absolute and utter pest.

Lila had fought back. She wouldn’t make it easy for Marinette to win against her; Lila had soon managed to get every student in the class wrapped around her little finger, as Lottie had taught her. She had hoped that soon Marinette wouldn’t be a problem anymore. But unfortunately, she still was. Even more annoyingly, Adrien, whom she was trying to charm in order to again be the most popular girl in school who dated the most handsome and popular guy, seemed to believe Marinette.

Lila had tried all her tricks. She had tried to bring the whole class to her side, she had tried to even manipulate Adrien’s father and make him think that Marinette was a bad influence on his son. But nothing seemed to have an effect on the blond model, and Lila had gotten desperate. She had finally managed to set up a great trap and had gotten Marinette expelled. However, the joy hadn’t lasted long because Adrien had threatened her and had gotten to the point of making a deal with her so that Marinette would be readmitted to school.

Lila was seething that day, but she had no choice. Losing Adrien’s friendship would have been even more detrimental to her image. It didn’t matter if it was only a fake friendship; it would add to her image, and image was everything, as Lottie said.

The more time passed, the more Lila hated Marinette. She had tried everything she could to make her life miserable, but the young designer somehow always managed to resist. Even getting akumatised and trying to use Hawkmoth’s power against Marinette didn’t work, because Ladybug and Chat Noir would get in the way and protect her. They would try to expose Lila’s lies. She had had to make her lies become bigger and bigger and create more and more imaginative excuses in order to keep up with the popularity she craved. And it was never enough, because Marinette always managed to dismiss her claims and most of the time prove her wrong.

From Lila’s point of view, Marinette was the enemy. She was the sole obstacle left in her path to getting what she wanted, and she would get what she wanted, no matter the cost. In her mind, there was only one path left to take to get rid of her.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had to DIE.

Finally, she had managed to come up with the perfect plan. The perfect opportunity.

The perfect excuse: a school project. She had cheated the sorting and gotten paired with Alya, and the weather today was giving her even more help. When something is meant to be, it’s meant to be. It had already been a cold winter up to then, but very unusually for Paris, in the last week the temperature had dropped way below zero. In fact, it had dropped so low that it had been declared the coldest winter in history, only topped once in the late 1800’s.

Lila didn’t like the cold. Her family came from a little village on the sea, where it was always warm even in the bad season. Yes, it had been cold from time to time, but the sea warmed the temperature up and made the chill more bearable. Her beautiful sea, which she missed so much after having gotten a taste of it back in Dublin. But there was no sea in Paris, only that stupid river… and no warm weather in the winter, especially not this year.

But that cold weather, for once, wasn’t upsetting her because it was helping her craft her plan; she had faced the freezing temperature that very morning before school, and had set up her trap. She would use the cold to her advantage. And this time, she’d have the perfect alibi, and not even Adrien would suspect of her.

This time Marinette would be gone. Forever.

“Are you all right, Lila?” asked Alya, her face showing genuine concern when Lila dumped her phone on the desk in front of her with a pout.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just another charity event being cancelled this week because of the snow,” she made up. Alya’s frown disappeared and the girl gave her a look full of admiration.

“I don’t know how you do it, Lila, your commitment to charities and people in need is admirable, really.”

Lila gave Alya her best puppy eyed glance. “This city, and especially Ladybug and Chat Noir, have done so much for me with all the times I have been akumatised. It’s only nice to give something back!”

Alya put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re a truly amazing person, Lila. I have been akumatised four times, and I guess half of Paris has been in a way or another, but nobody does all you do to ‘give it back to the community’.” The girl with glasses looked at her door thoughtfully. “But if you’ll excuse me a moment, I need the restroom.”

And that’s when the perfect opportunity arose. Alya’s phone was resting on the desk in front of them. Lila gave a cunning side glance to the brunette who had just stood up and was fixing her glasses on her nose and, with a graceful flick of her finger, she pushed Alya’s phone slightly making it fall to the ground, quickly kicking it with her foot underneath the computer desk so that Alya wouldn’t find it.

“Uh… I’m sure my phone was here a moment ago…” muttered Alya looking at the computer desk and scratching her head. She moved her gaze around superficially, but since she couldn’t see the phone anywhere, she sighed. “Well, never mind. I’ll be right back,” she said, looking at Lila before disappearing from view.

“Take your time,” said Lila, her lips curling in a wide smirk as she picked up the phone from the ground. Things seemed to be going her way this time. The phone was unlocked. Lila’s eyes had a triumphant gleam in them as she looked for a conversation with Marinette.

She quickly peeked to ensure that Alya was still in the restroom and opened the chat with Marinette. Then she typed the message she had been planning all day, clicking send immediately after.

Alya (Lila): [Hey, girl! The girls and I are planning to go to Lac Daumesnil. Fancy doing some ice skating with us?]

She kept eyeing the door of the restroom with concern, but Alya was still there. Soon she saw the three dots of the conversation flashing, meaning that Marinette was answering.

Marinette: [It’s been some time since I went ice skating. Last time was a disaster. Sounds like a good idea, Alya. I will be there in an hour]

Alya (Lila): [Great. Start skating if you get there before us. We’re on our way!]

Marinette: [OK!]

Lila looked at the messages with a smirk and took care of deleting each of them one by one. Alya wasn’t going to find out. It was after she had just deleted the last message that Alya emerged from the restroom and she put the phone down immediately.

Alya frowned at her. “Are you okay, Lila?”

“Yes. I found your phone; it was on the floor here.” She pointed at the side of the desk. “I thought I heard it notify you of something, but there’s no notification, nothing at all.”

Alya looked at her phone with interest. “Oh. Maybe an akuma alert?” She started scrolling through her phone, but she didn’t find anything new. “That’s peculiar, there’s no new announcement.”

“Don’t worry, I must have made a mistake,” said Lila, dismissing the conversation with a gesture of her right hand. “So we were saying, about Napoléon?”

This took Alya’s attention away from her phone and brought her back to concentrating on the project they were working on. Lila smirked — her plan was unfolding well.

Author’s Note:

Hi again! I know, I know, another story. I told you I was going to unload everything I had this weekend. This isn’t finished yet (well, one part is, and in theory it could be left like that, but the second part I thought is worth writing!) so I will update this, the AU and “When Magic Fails” as soon as I can. Hope you liked getting inside Lila’s head. The next chapters are not about her, don’t worry. Or rather, worry, because the next chapters are her plan unfolding. And the title of the next chapter (and the beautiful cover art) is kind of revealing… so, well, I’ll hide again… ^^;

In the next instalment of “Stuck in a cabin (with you)”, “Drowning”:

— “I don’t know, Marinette. This sounds fishy. Why aren’t your friends here yet?”

— “I can’t move, Tikki, I think I have cramps! HELP ME!”

— “Sugarcube! It won’t happen again, not if we can help it, don’t worry!”

Ehrm… I know. Doesn’t sound good, right? ^^ Please subscribe if you’re interested in knowing what is going to happen, so you will know when the next update is!

Last but not least, as usual, if you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks (for people on FFN, discord dot gg slash mlfanworks). See you there soon. Not sure when I will update this story but it won't be too long! Promise!