#thank u link for showing me this smiles serenely

[faerieorbitars]

YAYYYY YAYAYAYAYAYAYYYY WAHOOOO YAYYYYYYYYYYYY

[koutarouthighs]

『 strawberries & wicker baskets 』

S U M M A R Y ― sunny afternoons call for a basket filled to the brim with fruits and other treats, your lover across the blanket, sighing as they take in the sight of you with your skin glittering under the sun.

post type ➺ headcanons fandom  ➺ haikyuu!! characters  ➺ kuroo ⧾ akaashi ⧾ sugawara  genre➺ fluff tags/warnings ➺ established relationship ; alcohol mention ;  word count ➺ 1.9k+ request ➺ [YES/NO]     ↳ request status: *.·:·.✧ O P E N ✧.·:·.*

⤭ kuroo enjoys getting outside now and again because his job can be very much a shut-in, indoor-only occupation. whether he’s going from arena to arena, or spending days behind a desk answering emails, he is stuck inside much more than he’s allowed outside. ⤭ he’ll set up the entire thing with no prompting. kuroo is a big dork, after all, and he loves to surprise you with some romantic gesture, such as an intricate picnic packed safely away in a large brown, woven basket, the neck of a bottle of wine peeking out.  ⤭ depending on how stressed you both are, kuroo will sometimes have it be a surprise. he’ll call your boss, get you the afternoon or weekend off of work, and manage to corral you into heading to the park or the beach or the lake with him. ⤭ kuroo is so ecstatic to get you out on the green with him that he forgets napkins and you end up having to use the checkered blanket to wipe off your fingers after tetsurou has offered to suck the strawberry sugar off your digits.  ⤭ the warmth cascading down from the rays of sunlight filtering through the trees is nothing in comparison to the absolute beaming light from kuroo’s smile as he looks down at you, where you lay on the blanket. there is not a moment where you are not completely, utterly loved in the presence of kuroo tetsurou. 

more below the cut ↴

your pinkies are linked as you stroll through the sand, heels dug into the beach when you find your perfect spot. kuroo is yanked by your fingers circling his wrist, eyes widening a hair as he swivels to turn and look at you, “here? this is the spot?”

you don’t even have to nod, he already knows your answer. you wouldn’t have stopped him otherwise. so he works at getting the blanket laid out perfectly so there aren’t any annoying granules of sand getting in your food or underneath your clothes. he strategically lays out your shoes, one on each corner, so the blanket won’t go flying at the first signs of blustering winds.

the beach brings serenity and clarity, both of which you disturb with loud laughter and busied hands. your giggles are interrupted by wine-drunken kisses, warm and wet and reminding you much of the ocean. the spray from the waves salts your hair and your face, but you don’t mind. not when you get to spend these careless moments with your lover. 

“i’ve missed you,” he sighs, framing your cheek with a large palm, encompassing your skin with a near unbearable heat. skin flushed, you lean into his touch, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks as you hum, “i’ve missed you more.”

“there you go again,” he near growls, playfully smirking up at you as he rolls his hips to pin you down, knees on either side of your body so he can hover over you, blocking the sun like the clouds in the sky. “always have to one up me, baby, can’t you ever let me win?”

you reach up to squeeze his cheeks in your grip, playing with the looser skin near the center of his face, smushing his lips together playfully. you shake your head, rolling your eyes dramatically, “if i stop challenging you, you’ll get bored of me.”

his words are garbled thanks to your pressured palms, but he manages to husk out regardless: “i’d never get bored of you.”

⤭ you are the one to set up the picnic, knowing that akaashi will spend all day and all night working on his publishing duties. sometimes it is up to you to drag him out of the work-filled abyss that blackens his days and elongates his nights. ⤭ he has dark circles under his eyes and he’s always sleeping in on the weekends when he gets a chance, so you spend the time in the morning one saturday packaging up a wonderful feast. fruits, sandwiches, champagne, all tucked away into a sweet little basket that you can barely hold up on your own. ⤭ akaashi wakes up and you’ve already got his pot of coffee put together, but you hold his cup hostage when he reaches out for it. his brow wrinkles and his eyes narrow, but all you can do is chuckle when you tell him to get ready, that the two of you are going out.  ⤭ once he’s had two cups of coffee and a shower, akaashi does not hesitate to stroll down the sidewalk with you, the basket in one hand and your palms linked in the other. he’s warm, inviting, and he’s always playing with the soft skin of your hand with his thumb, calloused pad drifting back and forth. ⤭ it’s nice for him to be able to take some time away from manuscripts and plotlines, to be able to enjoy the time alone with you. he’s a people watcher, and together you make up funny stories for all of the families and couples making their way through the park. after you’ve eaten, when you’re laying back and staring up at the clouds, he’ll tuck you under his arm and point out the shapes that remind him of anything significant.

﹢

“don’t you think that one looks like an owl,” he points to a cloud to the left, drifting through the air and dissipating more with each passing second. you laugh, pressing your cheek against his collarbone as your arm winds around his waist, “you think everything looks like an owl, kei. i think you miss bokuto.”

akaashi scoffs, resting his palm back against your shoulders to anchor you to him, “all of fukurodani remind me of owls, sweetheart, not just koutarou.”

“it’s the writer in you,” you murmur, tilting your head up to kiss his jaw nearest his ear, “always making an analogy out of something.”

he leans down, narrowing the space between your faces, and runs his nose against your cheek, “you have too much faith in me, darling.” you nip at the thin skin of his jaw, hitching your knee up slightly to rest on his thigh, the thick of it rippling at the sudden movement, “that would imply i believe without seeing, keiji. i’ve seen plenty of your talents.”

even though akaashi is not one for public displays of affection, he finds in this moment alone with you in the middle of a meadow, he is insatiable. his mouth finds yours and you taste of peaches and champagne, sweet but bitter, and he falls a little more in love with you then.

“i love you too,” you whisper, reading his mind and seeping into his bones with your burning touch, eyelids flittering, unwilling to open and break apart the serenity of your kiss.

the bow of your lips meet his and he swears your handprint is seared into his heart, strings tied tightly and begging for you to play him like a fiddle. 

⤭ sugawara has picnics with his kindergarteners, he likes to take them outside for lunch at least once a month, if not more frequently. you’ve brought him his lunch to school at least once or twice and caught him mid teddy bear picnic, his bento box in your hand and a grin on your lips as he helps the youngest student tuck her napkin cloth into the front of her shirt. ⤭ it gives you the idea to create a picnic scenario of your own, only instead of on the playground underneath the shade tree, it is in the comfort of your own backyard as the sun goes down. ⤭ koushi is surprised to find you rushing in from the screen door that leads to the backyard when he comes home one evening, a late night after working on a new set of curriculum. he chuckles as he toes off his work shoes and finds the more comfortable house slippers to slide his feet into. ⤭ you grab him by the hand, eager to show him your masterpiece. he’s always been so kind and understanding, so easily excited by your innocence and wonder at the world. it reminds him of the wide eyes of his students, begging to soak in every word he speaks until they are gorging with information. ⤭ the way you bob on the balls of your feet makes him chuckle, his knuckles finding yours so he can slot your fingers together to the base. he squeezes before he turns his attention to the scene you’ve set before him.

﹢

“wow, love, this is-” his voice sticks in his throat, emotion overwhelming him after a long day at work, body begging to come home to you. you pull yourself closer to him, like a tether, a kite desperately trying to keep to it’s owner.

there is a spread near the firepit, a warm blanket laid flat with a plethora of food and drinks scattered across the entirety of it. he reaches around your shoulders to tug you into his chest, nose finding the crown of your head to bury his face into you, breathing in your familiarity. he realizes for what would feel like the infinite time that he is blessed with your saccharine presence, something he swears he’ll never take for granted. 

“d-do you like it?”

your voice comes timid, bashful. sugawara is quick to admonish you for your insecurities, tilting your chin up with the gentle tug of his thumb and index finger, and capturing your wavering tongue with his soft mouth. 

even when he peels away, you chase him, caring predator and cunning prey. your fingers wrap around the front of his shirt, begging him closer with a quiet touch. he smiles at your enthusiasm, relishing in the moment where you forget about everything else going on in the world but him.

sugawara places another kiss to your upper lip, gently guiding you to the blanket, “i love it, darling. of course i do. i’d love anything you do.”

you know he is not lying, not by the conviction in his tone and the searching in his touch. you lower yourselves to a crossed-leg position, close enough that your knees brush, and you begin to dig into every container set before you. even though you know what is splayed out, it is still a mystery as he unlocks the tops of the tupperware containers to display the treasures inside.

“i love you, kou,” you whisper after a glass too many of wine, but the words are honest all the same, regardless of the alcohol they’re tainted with. you grin lazily up at him, palm finding his pectoral as you seek his heat, “i hope you know how much i love you.”

sugawara brushes his fingers against your forehead, pushing away the hair that obscures your vision so he can see you in all of your glory, “only if you promise to know how much i love you.”

a giggle, like a champagne bubble rising to the surface only to pop when it gets too close to the sun, breaks the seam of your lips and you tuck your head underneath his chin to hide. sugawara draws you close, circling an arm around your waist until you are molded to his side, as if there were never even two people present at all. one soul inhabiting two bodies, stitched together by time and trials alike.

“i guess,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing a warm kiss there before turning his head to watch the sunset, “that just means we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives trying to prove it.”

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before XV

Chapter: 15/15

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo was quickly getting accustomed to the routine of waking up beside George, it was definitely a pleasant sight to open his eyes to first thing in the morning. Although it was rather strange being in someone else's bed, he couldn't deny that George's flat had a real warmth and cosiness to it. He thought back on the previous night fondly, scolding himself for ever being so concerned that it would've been anything less than perfect. Unfortunately it wasn't long before George was waking up too, meaning it was only a matter of time before they would have to break out of this peaceful serenity, the thought of returning to his flat alone again was already upsetting Ringo.

"Morning." George grumbled, evidently feeling very groggy.

"Morning." Ringo repeated, an instinctive smile forming on his lips.

George let out a groan as he stretched his body out, it didn't take Ringo long to learn that every morning was a struggle for George to get out of bed at a decent time. As George twisted and turned, Ringo noticed the marks on his wrists that had been left from the restraints, without much thought he caught one of George's arms and rubbed his thumb against the aggravated skin.

"It doesn't hurt does it?" Ringo asked, concerned.

George didn't realise what he was referencing at first, once he caught on he let out a casual laugh "Not at all. Even if it did, it'd be worth it."

Ringo held onto George for longer than necessary, eventually giving into his instincts completely and pulling him closer for a gentle kiss. The longer Ringo could drag out their time in bed together, the better. George was more than happy to oblige, lifting his leg to overlap with Ringo's hip so that they were pressed together even closer. Ringo slipped his hand under George's shirt, just to feel the warmth of his skin against his fingertips. George pulled away first, though didn't move too far as their noses were almost touching.

"I didn't take it too far did I? I was worried I'd be kinda throwing you in at the deep end." George rested his hand against his face.

"Not at all." Ringo chuckled softly "Don't get me wrong, I wasn't expecting it at all, so I was definitely shocked. But I was surprised how into the whole thing I was."

George hummed satisfied "You surprised me too. At least I know I can maybe turn it up a notch or two next time."

"There's more?" Ringo scoffed "Jesus, George... I'm really starting to think someone's paying you to torture me."

George paused, a knowing look on his face "I'm not gonna make the obvious joke here, as much as I want to."

"You don't have any plans today, do you?" Ringo asked cautiously, unable to look George in the eye so instead focused on his collarbones, trailing his finger along them.

"None at all, why?" George responded in kind.

"Well, not to run the risk of overstaying my welcome, it'd be nice to just chill together." Ringo spoke quietly "If you want to, of course."

"Of course I want to." George smiled, washing away any fear Ringo had "No sex, though... I need at least a day to recover from all that."

"You and me both." Ringo chuckled.

George reluctantly rolled out of bed, making his way over to the wardrobe to find something decent to wear. Ringo enjoyed the view, George peeling off his shirt so that he was stood there only in his boxers. Colours and patterns popped out from inside the wardrobe, Ringo couldn't help feeling rather bland in comparison as he watched George pull out a variety of options, each item of clothing more impressive than the last. Looking around George's room, it was clear that his unique perspective extended far beyond merely what he wore: the furniture was covered in imagery, whether it was from a multitude of stickers, crude drawings or more artful painting. Everything just screamed George, no corner of the room seemed to have been neglected. Ringo supposed he could get used to being in an environment like this.

"Planning on getting out of bed today?" George asked with an eyebrow raised, having thrown on some patterned trousers.

"If you give me a reason to, sure." Ringo responded playfully.

"Well I'm not about to serve you breakfast in bed, I'm not your maid." George took a few steps closer to the bed, hands on his slim hips.

"Shame, you'd make such a pretty one." Ringo pouted.

Despite his jokes, Ringo did manage to pull himself out of the comfort and warmth. He fished for his clothes in the living room, finding them dotted around the floor, before returning to dress himself. George already looked ready for the day, his hair brushed out and a black crop top thrown on to cover his chest but leave his stomach exposed.

"Have you always dressed like that?" Ringo asked, slipping back into his trousers.

"Like what?" George knitted his eyebrows together quizzically, clearly wanting to hear Ringo's description of his dress sense.

"Just very- Expressive." Ringo treaded carefully, George laughed at his caution.

"Not always." George finally answered "I just think fashion should be fun, you know? Everyone's so serious about everything..."

"Couldn't agree more." Ringo smiled.

George led the way into the kitchen, which was filled with even more houseplants than the living room. There were a few music posters taped to the wall: Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Roy Orbison to name a few, it reminded Ringo of his teenage bedroom.

"Your place is incredible." Ringo said, a little taken aback, as he slid to sit at the small table.

"Thanks." George replied with his head in the fridge "I want to move soon, though."

"Really? I can't image why." Ringo continued noticing small details in the room: the novelty salt and pepper shakers, the aged recipe books piled on the counter.

George began starting work on breakfast "Well, I do love it here but I really want a place with a garden. I'm starting to run out of space for these guys." He gestured broadly to the plants.

"Yeah... I've never met anyone with so many before." Ringo chuckled.

"Safe to say I'm a little obsessed." George focused on the food, but the warmth never left his voice "I work at the garden centre, actually. If you were curious."

"Oh, that must be nice." Ringo admired George from where he was sat "I don't think I've ever been, actually."

"What?" George almost shouted "We have to go!"

Ringo laughed, a little caught off guard "Is it really that good? I thought it was just a bunch of old people."

"Well, that's not untrue." George began cracking eggs into a pan "It's not really that special, I just like it there. I get a discount too so if you wanna get any plants, which you should want to, I can sort it for you."

"Why do I feel like you're threatening me?" Ringo chuckled.

"Maybe I am, just a little." George snickered.

They continued talking and joking over their breakfast, luckily for Ringo no under-the-table action occurred this time. Not soon after they were relaxing on the sofa, flicking through the variety of terrible daytime television on offer. They settled on a show about home renovation, always commenting on whether the end result was even an improvement at all, as though they were both experts in the field.

After George got up to put the kettle on, he decided to invade Ringo's space on the sofa by cuddling up into his front. Ringo couldn't deny that there wasn't really enough space for this kind of intimacy, but he allowed it all the same, running his hand over to George's stomach to keep him in place.

The hours soon passed by, neither of them wanting to acknowledge how late it was becoming. Ringo wished he could've stayed here forever, but he knew that was taking things a little too far. As the daylight began to fade, he had to face the fact that he had work in the morning and couldn't really afford to spend another night with George. He decided he should at least have a shower, just to prolong the amount of time he could spend here. When he re-emerged, George was spread out on the bed with a book in his hand.

"So... I should probably get going." Ringo announced, drying off his hair roughly with a towel.

George set his book down and frowned "Suppose you can't stay here forever."

"No, unfortunately not." Ringo sighed, both of them looking at one another but saying nothing further.

The moment dragged on for a little while longer, neither saying anything but it was fairly clear what they were both thinking.

"Before I go, though, I wanted to ask you..." Ringo began, doubting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"What?" George asked expectantly, sitting upright on the bed.

"I don't want to rush into anything, but- I just wondered what you thought about maybe, only if you want to, maybe making things a little more... exclusive?" Ringo cursed his ineloquence.

George laughed and for a second Ringo worried he'd misread everything entirely, until George spoke "Ringo, if you're gonna ask me out you're gonna have to do it properly."

Ringo paused then tried once more "George, do you wanna be my-"

"Yes." George cut him off with a grin.

"Great." Ringo exhaled with a nervous laugh.

George slid off the bed, approaching Ringo with a familiar look in his eyes "You're not about to leave your boyfriend without a kiss goodbye, are you?"

"Of course not." Ringo whispered as George moved in closer, locking their lips together.

Ringo had to use every ounce of restraint in his body to pull away from George, or else they'd no doubt be repeating the scenes of last night before long. It nearly broke his heart to leave George like this, knowing that both of them would do just about anything to spend more time together, but he could leave satisfied with the knowledge that this was only the beginning of what was hopefully a long relationship.

Things had already been fairly eventful, and it hadn't even been a month that the two of them had known each other. Whatever else was in store, Ringo unabashedly looked forward to it, for the knowledge that George was now his own, made him feel like everything was going to be perfect from here on out.

[vannahfanfics]

Sky and Sea

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Kairi, Sora

Hi, everyone! A bit late, but here’s another story for SoKai Week Day 5, for the prompt “Sky and Sea”! I hope you guys enjoy it ^u^

Kairi’s eyes were closed as she stood upon the small circular island protrusion jutting out into the sea, listening to the gentle washing of the waves against the land’s edge. The frothy white seafoam splashed onto the toes of her shoes as the water crashed up against the earth. It made the scent of salt and seaweed waft up into her nose. She inhaled the familiar scent with a small smile; it was a modest perfume, even unfavorable to some, but to Kairi, it was the aroma of home. The serene expression on her face gradually brightened as she basked in the sounds of Destiny Islands- the sounds of home. 

The gentle crunch of shoes on sand tore her attention away from her contemplative appreciation, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Sora making his way over from the clubhouse. He smiled happily when he glanced up and noticed her watching his approach. He trotted across the wooden bridge that joined the little circle of land to the main island, then hopped over the curving palm tree to join her at the edge of the island. 

“Hey, Kairi. Whatcha doin’?” 

“Oh, just enjoying myself,” she answered with a dreamy smile at the horizon. Her eyes beheld the line of forever marking the junction of sky and sea, sapphire to robin’s egg blue. “It’s funny how little you appreciate things until they’re taken from you,” she remarked with a small hum. Indeed, Sora and Kairi didn’t realize how much they had meant to one another until they were literally ripped apart and had to journey across dozens of worlds to find their way back to one another. “I just wanted to take a moment to commit this to memory,” she sighed, gazing at the beautiful sea through lidded eyes. “I don’t ever want to forget.” 

“Yeah,” Sora smiled agreeably and reclined against the sand-blasted trunk of the palm tree, resting his hands behind his head. His blue eyes searched the horizon, and a little twinkle that appeared in the sky-colored irises indicated to Kairi that he’d found whatever it was. The edges of his smile lowered a little and his gaze drooped down to his feet. “Yeah… Forgetting is painful.” 

Kairi crooned soothingly and walked over to lay her hand on Sora’s shoulder. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Kairi had neglected to recall the fact that Sora’s memory had literally been wiped at one point in time. The boy, persistently optimistic, shot her a smile when she squeezed his shoulder. 

“Ah, I’m okay. I remember now, so that’s what matters, right?” 

“Yeah!” Kairi giggled with a nod. Sora’s smile widened to flash perfect white teeth at her. Kairi had always loved Sora’s smile; it was like the sun, bright and blazing. It could illuminate even the darkest of rooms, and never failed to send sadness and doubt fleeing into the dark recesses of her mind, too scared to face against his boundless cheerfulness. Kairi hopped up onto the curved stem of the palm tree, her calves brushing against the meat of Sora’s left arm. “Yeah, that’s what matters,” she murmured, mostly to herself. 

Kairi hummed contentedly as she swung her feet lightly, banging her heels against the sturdy trunk. The seascape shimmered like thousands of diamonds as the sunlight struck the transparent surface to scatter white globes of light across the continually shifting waves. Above the horizon line, white clouds moseyed lazily through the endless blue like ships sailing on to various destinations. The sun burned a bright yellow circle in the sky, streaming rays of light like arrows to warm their skin. Kairi rolled her shoulders as the sunbeams struck them and spread a soothing warmth over her person. It was remarkable, she thought at that moment, how different yet alike the sky and the sea were. 

Kairi reached out into the air with a smile, splaying her fingers out over the space that joined the two blue expanses. Sora regarded her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

“I was just thinking,” she mused with a grin, “that you and I are like the sky and the sea.” Sora blinked and looked at the horizon, then back to her with a puzzled expression. Kairi giggled and spread her arms upward. “Sora, you’re like the sky! Bright and open and clear… Sometimes the weather changes to get stormy and uncertain, but no matter what, it always returns to the beautiful blue expanse- just like you, always optimistic even after the worst of times.” Sora’s cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink, and he laughed bashfully, playing with the spiky hairs at the base of his neck. 

“Wow, Kairi, thanks,” he stammered shyly. Kairi giggled at his adorable reaction and pointed at the sea. 

“So that makes me the sea… It takes the brilliance of the sky and reflects it, kinda like how you inspire me to be greater every day.” With eyes as wide as blue moons, Sora whispered her name in awe. Kairi giggled and tapped her cheek with the pad of her index finger mirthfully. “But, I’m amazing on my own, too! I’m tenacious!” she grinned and balled up her fists tightly as a show of resolution. “No matter what, I’m gonna keep beating at the shore until I move mountains!” 

“Hehe, yeah, that does sound like you,” Sora agreed with a laugh. Kairi pouted at him, thinking that perhaps he was teasing her, but he was grinning amiably at her. His absolute confidence in her sent a warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling up in her chest. The brown-haired boy glanced back at the horizon and smirking knowingly. “Yeah, I agree. You and I are kinda like the sky and sea,” he agreed with a nod. “Especially because we’re always connected.” 

“Huh?” she blinked. Sora pointed at the horizon line, the smudge of gray where the glittering sea gave way to smooth light blue. “No matter how far you go in either direction, you can always trace back to the horizon. Just like us!” His blue eyes gleamed at her when he glanced over his shoulder, smiling brightly. “I’m always connected to you, Kairi, no matter how far apart we are.” She flushed as he turned around to grasp both her hands tightly, thumbs caressing the tops of them with gentle touches. She fluttered her red eyelashes at him bashfully as he smiled radiantly. “No matter what, I’ll always meet you at the horizon,” he solemnly promised. 

“Oh, Sora,” Kairi sniffed with tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. Chuckling, Sora nudged her knees apart with his hips so that he could step between them and reach up to cup her cheeks. His thumbs made those soft sweeping motions again, this time to catch her tears and wipe them away. Kairi leaned into his touch; though his hands had grown callous from his extended time wielding the Keyblade, his hands were still incredibly gentle. “Thank you… I’ll always come to meet you.” 

“I know,” he smiled sweetly. “That’s what makes me strong. No matter how far away I go, I can keep moving forward knowing that you’re at my side, Kairi.” The auburn-haired girl smiled lovingly and nuzzled her cheek into one of his broad palms. 

“Well, I hope that it’ll be a while before you have to go marching off again,” she joked. Sora smirked and shrugged slightly. 

“Well, y’know, bein’ a Hero of Light and all is a pretty demanding job,” he jested with a playful roll of his eyes. Kairi snorted and kicked him in the thigh with the toe of her shoe, making him jerk to the side and whine indignantly. “I’m kiddiiiiiing! I hope so, too,” he laughed. His smile then softened, and he pushed a swathe of her dark red hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. His eyes went searching again across the planes of her gradually blushing face, but Kairi had no clue what for. His gaze finally settled into her eyes, growing lidded as he stared adoringly into the vibrant depths. “I hope so too, Kairi,” he repeated in a husky voice full of feeling. Kairi instinctively inhaled, feeling a strange emotion blooming within the depths of her being. It intensified as Sora’s gaze slowly trailed down to rest on her slightly parted baby-pink lips. “Kairi… Can I…” He didn’t finish the question, but Kairi knew very well what he was asking. 

“Please,” she implored in a breathy whisper. Still staring intently at her lips, Sora slowly closed the distance between them. Their eyes drifted shut simultaneously at the first brushing of his mouth against hers. As his lips molded over hers in an impeccably sweet, chaste kiss, Kairi’s hands ran up his arms to settle on his shoulders. Sora’s hands tentatively found purchase on her waist, holding her steady as she became lost in the constant waves of his gentle kisses. 

Kairi’s eyes fluttered open when he retreated and found his bright blue eyes tenderly beholding her face. The girl blushed slightly and fidgeted, not used to such overt affection. Sora chuckled at her sudden shyness and stroked her cheek with his knuckles, following the line of her cheekbone before pushing his fingers into her auburn locks. 

“Thank you for always being there for me, Kairi. You’ve helped me more than you can imagine.” Kairi smiled coyly and leaned her face into his palm, fluttering her eyelashes at him. 

“Of course. I’ll always be there for you, Sora.” 

After a few minutes of just staring earnestly into each other’s eyes, Sora hopped up onto the sloped palm tree beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled into his side and rested her cheek against his shoulder, smiling warmly as his comforting presence washed over her. Sora grasped her hand and interlaced their fingers, then, with a sly smirk, brought her hand to his mouth to press a lingering kiss to the top of her hand. She blushed at the smooth gesture and buried her brightening face into the fabric of his sleeve. She shook as Sora’s shoulder jumped up and down with merry laughter. 

Kairi finally calmed down enough to peer out at the glittering horizon. Together, the two teenagers linked by fate and destiny admired the eternally joined blues of the sky and sea.

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

Tag List: @deliathedork​ @sokaiweek​

[misskamelie]

"A flower is no flower”

Word count: ~3k

Characters: Lucien (plus MC mentions? In any case, it’s Lucien-centric, lol)

Warnings: It’s about hanahaki disease, so there is choking, a blood mention, and mentions of puking. Oh, also, tiny note: I wrote this before chapter 12, so I probably don’t have all the characterization down. (but I vibe with Lucien, so it should still be acceptable…?)

Summary: Lucien being his usual stoic self while refusing to ask for any kind of help and using himself as a study subject for his own research.

«Uh? Are you feeling alright, Lucien?» she turnt to him, her brows creased in worry. «Of course, why the question?» he smiled. He gulped down quietly, making sure not to show any other sign of distress.

«It’s just… You’ve been coughing a lot and I was starting to get worried.»

Ah, that expression– No, gulp down. Just a few more minutes. Lucien tightened the grip on the pen recorder in his pocket.

«It may be the pollution, I’ve been going around the city a lot for research these days.» he smoothly lied through his teeth, his expression ever so serene. Could she tell his throat was burning the more he talked to her?

Her expression relaxed for a quick moment, and the scientist didn’t fail to notice it. «Oh, okay then, but… You should be more careful, then. I don’t want you getting sick, okay?», she smiled at the end of her question.

His chest ached, but he chuckled. «Of course. I’ll take some days to rest.»

She furrowed her brows once again, this time in a more joking tone, though. «You mean you’ll lock yourself in your home or lab? You know that’s unhealthy in the long term, as well.», she shook her head.

He couldn’t help but smile more at her attitude while his pain only sharpened. It felt like having a stick through his chest. «Then I’ll make up for it by taking a walk somewhere with you.»

She blushed and hurried to look down, «U-uh, of course.»

Luckily, she noticed the time and hurried to the meeting Lucien had accompanied her to. «See you next time, then!» she waved her hand joyfully as she got out of his car.

He simply smiled back.

Once he was far enough, Lucien hurried to take out his recorder pen, starting to record after he coughed in a handkerchief and cleared his throat. «Day 35, the pain reappeared when I talked to her, this time sharper than the previous. I would say it’s almost unbearable, but if I don’t get caught in a coughing fit I can still manage. My throat is dry and there are petals of…», he looked at the elongated and slightly curved white petals in his handkerchief, «white lilies. There are traces of saliva, but not blood.»

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, «There are occasional petals of another flower, most likely camelia, colour…» he furrowed his brows as he looked at a single, rounder petal on the handkerchief. It was a weak and light colour, that much he could tell, but… «…Colour unknown», he ended the recording.

He fell back against the driver seat, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. He needed to be aware of every symptom, no matter the pain it caused. The clearest and most persistent one, which began a little over a month before, was breathing difficulties. At first, Lucien really thought it to be a seasonal cough, but he soon turnt suspicious when it didn’t seem to disappear after a few days. It brought sensations definitely not related to a normal cold, so he began to research it and keep it tracked. It was… Interesting, all things considered. He had read studies and papers on it, but never actually researched it. Coughing up flowers? Who wouldn’t be interested in such a research topic?

It was a rather rare phenomenon, but existing nonetheless. It also seemed linked with the psych of the person suffering of it, so it was related to Lucien’s field of study. Then again, how could flowers simply… Appear in one’s lungs? Well, Lucien chuckled, he didn’t really have a right to question it seeing how, despite an apparently normal eye, he couldn’t see the colours of the world. Except when- A coughing fit hit him, forcing him to double over the steering wheel. He covered his mouth with a hand, while the other gripped onto the wheel, his knuckles whitening. His throat burnt.

Slowly, he managed to get a hold of himself, going back to taking deep, deep breaths. He cleaned the traces of saliva and flowers on his mouth. There were a few petals on his legs. Apparently, even just thinking of her was enough to cause a fit, who would have guessed? He pondered on it as he headed home. He needed time to think.

The pain wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t dead yet, so that must have meant something. Apparently, one could die from this disease, and Lucien had done his researches on all the announced and testified victims. The cause of death was usually asphyxia, which made sense since the lungs (and in a few cases even the throat) of the victims were covered in flowers and plants. Another cause of death was blood loss, because in certain cases the plant would grow in a way to pierce the lungs. This happened when the victim grew certain kinds of plants, usually with thorns. Those were the main causes of death. From what he knew so far, Lucien wasn’t much at risk for the second, and the first one usually happened after a year or more. He had some time to study it on himself.

As he entered his apartment, Lucien caught the scents of flowers. It wasn’t that unpleasant, but it was still bothersome to a certain degree. He sighed as he leaned back into a chair and skimmed through a recent article, related to the disease he was currently researching. A cure was being researched. There was a method that seemed to work, but it had a few… Heavy complications and side effects. This cure consisted in surgically removing the flowers and plants from the patient’s lungs. It made sense, Lucien reasoned, but he found it peculiar how the side effects consisted in an inescapable apathy, which would practically make the patient a living robot of sort. Of course people could ask to be cured that way, but not many chose it, for a reason or another: some fearing the apathy and others fearing the possible memory loss of the people they had known in their life.

In the evening, when he noticed his stomach grumbling (and his throat drier than usual), Lucien decided to take a quick snack. He glanced at the clock: it was almost midnight. As he wondered about his plans (precisely, all the books and things he would have better researched) while sipping on some tea, he heard movements outside his apartment. More exactly, a most likely big box crashing in the corridor. So, he placed down his cup and walked out to see what the commotion was about.

«Uh? It’s you» he smiled as he noticed his clumsy neighbour who, apparently, was also the cause of his disease. The girl laughed as she hurried to put stash of papers into a box, «Ahh, sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you!»

She hurried to get back up and bow in apology. «Don’t worry, you would never. Let me help», he walked to her side and started gathering some lost papers, «You brought unfinished work home?» «Ahah, yeah… We had a few troubles during the shooting this week and I have to check all these papers are compiled correctly. Ah, sorry–» she stopped as she brushed hands with Lucien while they were reaching for the same paper. He laughed, managing to cover a cough. He noticed she was wearing a blue necklace, the same colour of the stripes on her shirt. An idea came to him.

«Ah, thank you for bringing this in, Lucien. You always help, I don’t really know how to repay you.» «Well…» he looked around her apartment, thinking of something. «What about a payback tea?» he smiled. She blushed, «Ah! Of course! I’ll get it ready immediately!»

Her apartment smelled of flowers. He noticed a few vases on the table and one next to the entrance. She was so… pure… «In the meantime I’ll go and check a thing, is it alright by you?» he asked, a step already out of the door. «Oh, uhm… Sure», she was surprised, but she didn’t pay any more attention than that.

He used the short time by himself to take deep breaths and put a handkerchief in his pocket, a few petals on it. On his way out he closed the folder with the documents on the cure.

«Why did you choose these flowers?» Lucien nodded towards the vase on the table, containing white and pink lilies. His attention was completely consumed by the petals and their details, though. It was so painfully familiar. «Ah, Anna gifted them to me, actually!» she lighted up as she talked about it. She had the adorable habit of straightening up and opening her eyes wide shortly before talking about something she was interested in or that she liked. Her eyes seemed to have a certain sparkle to them in those moments. «Oh, really?» Lucien casually brought a hand next to the flowers, as if to caress them. The purest flowers… Shouldn’t be touched. She nodded enthusiastically, «Mm-mm. We are also having show about flowers and their meanings, so I was pretty excited when she gave them to me.»

Her laughter could be considered contagious. It was a kind of shy chuckle, as if she was self-conscious of her childish joy, and yet she was unable to help it.

«And do you know what the meaning of lilies is?» Lucien had rested his chin against his hand, his fingers barely covering his mouth when he wasn’t talking.

Her eyes sparkled once more as she took on a more confident tone. It was amazing how she could look not tired even after a whole day of work. «Yup! I know lilies are a symbol of modesty. And while pink lilies are used as a gift of admiration, white lilies are for innocence and purity!» Lucien chuckled, «Yes, but they are for funerals, aren’t they?»

She was taken back for a moment, but then answered with even more determination: «Well, yes, because we hope the dead will find peace and have their souls pure once again. They are also used for rebirth and new beginnings, like weddings.» Her soft smile left him disarmed. A itch started to annoy him, at the back of his throat. Not now, he mentally scolded himself as he quietly gulped down. He looked down at his pocket, where his handkerchief was neatly hidden.

«Lucien? Everything alright?» He saw her leaning a little towards him, her brows in a tiny, tiny crease. The itching at the back of his throat worsened. «Ah, yes. I just stopped to think about what you said. Life and death are more intertwined than we think.»

She slowly nodded, lowering her gaze as if to ponder on it. He used the occasion to take out his handkerchief, turn in the other direction, and fake (not even that much) a cough. He quickly took a look at her and then back to the piece of cloth.

Pink.

«Have you had your cough checked by a doctor?» she was worried once again. He laughed, «I am a doctor.» She puffed out her cheeks, «You–», but she didn’t know how to proceed, so she laughed. Her laughter was crystalline. How many notes he would have taken on her, given the chance. His throat itched more. It was dry and he didn’t want to talk any more than needed. Her worried expression was fascinating, but he would have liked to avoid seeing it, especially if it was caused and directed towards him.

His chest had started to burn while she talked of her day. It was like needles in his lungs. He didn’t want to be there with her, he really didn’t. But at the same time he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. Why had it started to be all about her recently? His researches involved her in a way or another, she asked for his help as a consultant for her productions, he would have passed hours just observing and chatting with her. And she liked him. That was what he had started to think. That was what her body language said. And he found himself always searching for signs which further proved his thesis.

But it wasn’t important. All that is nice always comes to an end. Much like flowers.

For some reason he was… Impatient to see how the disease would have developed. It must have been his scientific curiosity and ambition talking, but he really was impatient to record more of it. All that suffering… It would have been worth something: for science, for the future of research.

Although she would have been- he coughed more. This time he felt on the verge of puking. «Right… Excessive coughing… may cause vomit…» he slowly muttered to himself as he stood doubled over the sink in his bathroom, taking slow and careful breaths. His voice never lost his calm and controlled tone. After all, what was the point of fussing over it? Getting upset was a thing, but why bother with showing it?

In any case, his thoughts went back to what would have happened once he… Disappeared. He couldn’t really shake off the thought of her getting sad over it. He already had a habit of occasionally disappearing, even for… Well, quite long periods, but she still somehow found him. Or was it him who left himself be found by her? He would try to distance from her, but they’d always find each other in a way or another. Was it fate…?

No, he… He had a longing for her. A fascination he would have never admitted openly, limiting it to a scientific interest. As he thought of this, Lucien smeared a few traces of blood on the bottom of the sink and took a petal, turning it around his fingers. «Pink camelia, uh…»

Camelias were pretty flowers. Lucien associated them with the garden near the university during spring. And he associated pink camelias to the pink cardigan she wore when she came to visit him one spring day after one of his lectures.

Lucien closed his eyes as he rested on his couch, head thrown back and one hand through his hair. On the coffee table in front of him were all the documents he had been gathering the past month. He hoped for summer to be gone soon, so he could go back to working in his lab without many problems.

As more months passed, his condition worsened, but he had grown more resilient. There would be more blood when he coughed, and he had to vomit a few times. On the worst occasions, he needed to take up to a good hour to take back control of himself. His throat would burn so much that he struggled not to scratch at his own neck, in a vague hope to relieve the pain. He lost to the temptation one winter day, only because he reassured himself he could have covered it up with a turtleneck and a scarf. That day he met her while coming back from the lab. He hadn’t seen her in almost a month. She invited him over for dinner, but he refused, saying he had to turn in a research. Truth be told, it was a research related business, but he actually had to go visit a few people who had his same condition and offered themselves as guinea pigs.

Those people were interesting. He had them describe to him what they felt, how long had they been sick for, and what their flowers were like.

«You can’t see colours?» a young patient, only a few years older than him, commented at one point, realizing he asked the description of the petals although she had just coughed. Lucien simply smiled, «Is there any colour in the world worth seeing?» The patient shrugged. «I don’t know, I think flowers’ colours are. It’s painful but it keeps me company in the city, you know?» He had never seen it that way, but he realized he also left a few petals (the cleaner ones, at least, those untouched by his blood) around his apartment. A touch of nature among his papers and suffering.

Spring slowly arrived. And his condition, after what seemed like a brief improvement, worsened once again. He could always smell flowers everywhere he went, to the point it started to be bothersome. She noticed that once, while they briefly met in the hallway. «Have you bought a new cologne? It’s nice», she blushed and entered her apartment. He coughed and smelled blood.

When changing clothes for the day, he noticed his neck had light bruises around it, much like his chest. They were mostly scratches he had done to himself. He thought he had been restraining himself well enough, but apparently months of occasional scratching had started to take their toll. His palate and the inside of his cheeks also had signs of bruising, just barely noticeable. Now he coughed up more flowers than leaves, unlike during the winter. That was an interesting thing he had jotted down in his notes.

He was determined and diligent as ever, but spring made him… Tired. Very tired. Like all his energies were being drained.

«Day 250…», he breathed heavily, «It’s only 11 a.m. and I’m more tired that what I should be. No particular changes were made to my routine, but…» He furrowed his brows, «I have been having intermittent sleep because of occasional cough fits.»

Actually, a little more substantial change was made to his habits: he slept less than he did. Which, talking about Lucien, meant he would go even a week without a proper one night rest. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, though. He didn’t think it would have had any big repercussions on his future because he never really thought, for one reason or another, to live long enough for his lack of sleep to become a problem. He simply dived into his research and took occasional power naps to keep himself functioning.

Still, he felt tired. Which led him to his decision of taking a break during the day to take a walk in the university garden. There was no one around, which made it all the more pleasant.

250 days were a lot, he reasoned. Not that long of a time period for a scientific research, but still quite long for a person.

«Ah, the camelias are blooming.» he muttered to himself when he noticed the bushes filled to the brim with flowers. He wondered what colours they were. It looked a little more vivid than the colour of the ones he coughed, so he suspected it to be either a strong pink or some kind of red.

His step slowed down as he had more difficulties breathing, so he decided to rest nearby a tree. But while he was walking towards it, he heard new steps not far from himself. A light clacking of heels. He felt a knot in his throat, but he wouldn’t have dared to turn. He didn’t want to cough either, simply holding the handkerchief in his pocket tighter. He could have sworn of smelling metallic traces of blood along with the sweet fragrance of the flowers. He gulped down, slowly, carefully, as his step became heavier. Moving was… Getting difficult. His only thought in that moment was that he wanted, he needed to record it all.

«Lucien!»

That voice. He saw the world swirling for a moment, colours flashing in front of his eyes for the briefest instant. A sharp pain crossed his chest as he slowly turnt around, a grin on his face.

And there he saw her. Face as radiant as the sun, red camelias behind her. He took a sharp breath, his whole throat burning, he could feel the petals tickling it, as if they were supposed to soothe his pain. He felt… Light headed. No, focus, Lucien.

«Ah, I’m… I am so happy to see you.» he muttered as he tried to take a step towards her. But he couldn’t stay next to her, that was not how it was supposed to be. He took a miscalculated step and he found himself falling forward, his world crashing down. And as he smelled blood and jasmine, he heard someone shouting and hurrying somewhere. For a moment, colours were smeared everywhere, like watercolours laid down by a confused painter, then his vision blurred and his world went black.

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Barren: Chapter 13

Ships: Moralogince, hinted analogical, Eventual LAMP, mentions of QPR Remile

Words: 1,870

Warnings: Death mentions, grieving, mention of past Major Character Death, minor fire mention (in the form of candles), food mention, self blame, sex mention

Previous / Next

--- “Amazing grace.” Candles flickered throughout the bunker. It wasn’t much, but Patton had managed to get a bouquet of roses to place next to framed photographs of Remy. It was hard to find ones where he was smiling. “How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” As they sang softly, Logan intertwined his hand with Roman’s. “I once was lost, but now am found.” Elliot stood at the edge of the room, still clad in their usual greys and browns they remained the only person not in fully black attire. Virgil’s eyes drifted towards the other three; Roman’s free hand reached to link with Patton’s. “Was blind but now I see.”

The funeral was almost pathetic. A room of five people, one of whom had never truly known the deceased, when Remy should have had so much more. Patton had split off from Roman to kneel by the makeshift shrine and say a silent prayer; Virgil hadn’t seen the point. There was no sun or life in the bunker. There were no gods to look after them in there.

Virgil had found himself at Emile’s door with a cold turkey sandwich standing frozen as he listened to the choked sobs coming from the other side. He cleared his throat and knocked. “Em?” he asked, the collar of Logan’s polo seeming to choke him. “Can I come in?”

The sobs quieted but there was no answer. Virgil wondered if Emile blamed him for Remy’s death. Remy had died protecting him after all. “I’m not hungry,” Picani said weakly.

Virgil took a deep breath. That’s bullshit, Em. He debated opening the door. Hungry or not you still need to eat. He cracked the door open just enough to put the plate inside and closed the door. I blame myself too.

He walked away from the door.  

Patton had busied himself with chores and work; Roman had kept himself moving and walking around. Neither of them could deal with the loss. Even Logan had been distant and keeping to himself. Yet Elliot wandered, simply trying to get a feel for where they were, and how long they could survive.

+

When Logan found Patton, he had been sitting on the couch distracting himself with a pair of knitting needles and yarn. A pile of finished washcloths sat next to him, and he seemed to be working on a scarf. “Patton, do you mind if I join you?”

Patton patted the seat next to him and placed his needles and yarn on the table. “Only if you’re okay with cuddles,” he said with a soft smile. Logan sat down, offering open arms to Patton but finding himself surprised when Patton pulled him into something between a side hug and being a little spoon. “Can I play with your hair?” Patton asked.

Logan was hesitant. His hair had always been flat and kind of dry, not something that seemed pleasant to play with. But he knew what Patton really meant, please keep me busy. “Of course, Patton,” he said softly, leaning in to the touch and melting softly into Patton’s side.

“I know he was important to you,” Patton said, carding his fingers through Logan’s hair.

“He taught me everything I know.”

There was a moment of silence. “Me too.” The air seemed full of unspoken words and half forgotten memories. “I guess he was like our dad, ya know.”

“I understand the sentiment, but I have to disagree. Remy is one hundred percent what you and Roman would call a mom friend.”

Patton laughed, nearly pushing Logan off of the couch as he doubled over in pain. “Excuse you,” he laughed. “Remy is our dad and Emile is our mom.”

“I see my error,” Logan teased. “And where does that leave the rest of us?”

“Hmmm,” Patton pretended to think to himself. “That makes Virgil your son.”

Logan scrunched up his face in overdramatic disgust. “No way. Virgil is not my son.”

“Why not?” Patton teased with a laugh. “Don’t you care about him?”

“Well of course I... care... about him.” Logan’s face turned pink as he spoke. “Just in... a not very... fatherly way.”

“Oh?” Patton tilted his head in confusion before opening his jaw and letting his expression drop into a more soothing appearance. “Oh. I see.” He smiled teasingly, running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “Does our little Logan have a crush?”

“Patton, don’t be so immature. I have bigger problems to deal with than attempting to categorize my feelings towards... Virgil. I have bigger problems than Virgil.”

“You know I’m just teasing, Logan,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Logan’s scalp as he pulled him closer. “But if you did want to confess to him, I know he cares about you, Lo. We all do. And I know... that any of us would feel like the luckiest man alive to have you care for m- him. Care for him.”

Logan stayed silent but wrapped his arms tightly around Patton’s waist as the guilt settled in both of their chests. Logan thought about Virgil, and he thought about Patton as well as what those feelings meant, but his mind found a way to drift back to Roman. To the kiss. The human mind was surely a dangerous thing.

“Patton, I... well, Roman and I, we-“

“Shhh, you don’t need to say anything,” Patton said. “I know you two have fought and argued, there’s probably nothing you could tell me that Roman hasn’t already, anyway.”

“But we-“ Logan sighed, nuzzling into Patton’s chest. He mumbled quietly under his breath, “I love you.”

+

Virgil couldn’t help but almost feel nostalgic when he saw Elliot. They were confused and lost, probably missing friends or family. He had lost track of how long it had been, but he knew they were just like he was when he first arrived.

He kept staring at Picani’s door. Emile had been the first person to warm up to him, perhaps he could help Elliot adjust as well. “Has he come out yet?” Virgil asked.

“Uh, he has a pride flag in his offi- you- you meant out of his room, right,” Elliot mumbled. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Damnit,” Virgil mumbled, dropping his shoulders with an exhale.

“Virgil? Can I ask you a question?”

Virgil glanced at the door one last time before turning his attention to Elliot. Picani could wait. “What’s up?”

“How did you... adjust?” they asked. “How did you leave it all behind?”

“I ask myself that question everyday,” Virgil said. “But I never had many attachments, it wasn’t hard to leave them behind.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh, and leaned against the doorframe. “My only real regret is never getting to tell my mom goodbye. I was arrested at school, I couldn’t have known that that was the last time I’d ever see her- or- or the last lunch she’d ever make me.”

“Virgil, I- I’m so sorry,” Elliot said.

“It’s fine,” Virgil insisted. “I trust that she knows what I would have said.”

“I... my friend, Kai,” Elliot said. “He protected me when no one else would. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Virgil put a hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “We’ll keep an eye out for any news on him.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” Virgil said. “It’s easy to get lost around here.”

As they walked away from the door, Picani slowly stood, his knees weak and hands shaking. Nicole. Of course he wanted to see Nicole. He picked up his pen and notepad and began to write...

+

They had nearly fallen asleep when Roman had walked in. “Good, you’re both here,” he said, sitting at the far end of the couch. Logan and Patton adjusted to properly see him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Are you okay?” Logan asked quietly.

“I’m alive,” he said, “and that’s all I can really ask for.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve recently realized that I’m polyamorous-“

“Aww, Roman, thank you for telling u-“

“I’m not done, Patton.” He interlocked his own fingers, feeling his heart race as he swallowed his pride. “And I... I have feelings for you. Both of you. Giant, mushy, romantic feelings! Okay?! I- I dream of playing with your hair and kissing your cheeks and your mouths and- yeah, as awkward as this is to admit- yeah I’ve even thought about having sex with you once or twice, or a couple dozen times!”

“Roman,” they both murmured.

“I- I’m sorry if this is awkward or- or uncomfortable I just...,” Roman let his head hang as he curled in on himself and hid his face in his palms. “I couldn’t die knowing this was left unsaid.”

“Roman, come here,” Logan said with open arms. Roman crawled into his lap, feeling both men’s arms around him. “If this is the proper time for confessions then I, too, must say that I’ve had feelings of that sort towards you for quite some time. You and Patton.”

They both looked to Patton who had tears in his eyes. “I... I never thought this would be... real, you know?”

“I know,” Roman whispered and Logan held him closer.

They all sat in the serenity, the eye of the storm of emotions, and basked in the fragile love and unspoken words. For one fractal of a moment, everything seemed like it just may actually be alright. 

Virgil knocked on the doorframe, he held a pad of paper in his hands and he looked messy and disheveled. When he locked eyes with the other three he straightened his posture and tried to appear calm- yet Logan still noticed his white knuckles and the quick rise and fall of his chest. “Am I interrupting something?” Virgil asked.

“As a matter of fact-“

“You aren’t interrupting anything, Virgil.”

Virgil nervously handed over the notepad to Logan. “Picani, he- he left this note. He ran off and I- I think it’s my fault.”

“4-7-8, Virgil,” Logan said calmly. “Remember what I taught you.”

Patton looked over the note, scanning every line and detail. “This isn’t your fault. He just needs some space, okay?”

“He- He probably blames me,” Virgil said. “It’s all my fault that he’s dead. I should’ve taken that bullet, not him.”

“No. Stop that,” Logan commanded.

“We’re in a dangerous line of work,” Patton explained. “Remy knew the risks when he joined the organization. He knew the risks when he took in me and Roman. He knew the risks when he took in Logan.”

“And he knew that we need you,” Roman said. “Picani just needs some time alone, and you need some time with people who love you.”

“But, I-“

“No ‘but’, Virgil. Lay with us. Relax. You’ve had a long few days.”

Virgil thought for a moment but slowly sat down, maneuvering himself into Roman’s lap as the others touched him softly and played with his hair. He relaxed into Roman, who sang a soft tune in his ear. He fell asleep with Patton’s hand on his back, Logan’s arm around his waist, and his forehead pressed against Roman’s cheek.

“I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind but now I see.”

[lexiraq]

Hey! for the prompts can u do some angst with #5 #31 and #93 but like with a happy ending caus i dont want my heart hurting but i like some spice. also with reddie please and thx

“why do you hate me?” + “i fucked up” + “are you high?”

word count: 2,910

ao3 link

Friday night was designated date night in the Uris household, meaning Stan had the night to himself. He was enjoying his alone time, smoking and reading his ornithology books, when there was a loud knock on the front door. Confused, Stan got up from his bed and approached the sound. Upon opening the door, he was met with a visibly upset Eddie Kaspbrak, whose face was stained with drying tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Stan asked, voice dripping with concern. Eddie wasn’t one to cry a lot, especially not in front of others, so Stan knew that whatever was going on was seriously affecting the boy.

“I fucked up,” Eddie said pointedly. Stan ushered him inside and sat with him on the edge of his bed.

“What happened?” Stan asked in a comforting voice, gently rubbing up and down his best friend’s back.

Eddie sat with his head in his hands and mumbled, “Richie is avoiding me.”

Stan smirked to himself, knowing all to well what the issue was. I should’ve known it had to do with Richie. Can these idiots just figure it out already? he thought to himself.

“Why do you say that?” Stan asked, feigning cluelessness.

“Well, he hasn't wanted to hang out as much and he hasn’t made as many dumb jokes as he usually does. We’ve always been comfortable being super close but lately he’s been backing off and I don’t know what I did,” Eddie said, sounding distressed as he fell backward onto the bed. He landed on something and when he went to move it from underneath him, his eyes widened.

“Stanley, what is this?” Eddie asked, in a way that meant he already knew the answer. Stan looked over, letting out a little gasp when he saw what Eddie was holding up. Shit, he thought, I forgot I had that out.

“Oh, it’s just, uh…” he started, nervously, “pot,” he said guiltily.

“Since when do you smoke?” Eddie asked, genuinely shocked.

“I dunno,” Eddie raised his eyebrows, “It just helps me relax, okay? Let’s get back to your problem,” Stan said defensively.

Eddie sighed, “Right. That. I don't know what to do Stan,” he said desperately.

“While that’s certainly weird behavior coming from Richie of all people, the only way you’re gonna figure this out is by talking to him,” Stan said.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that? I haven't even been able to talk to him long enough to bring it up! He runs off as soon as he can!” Eddie said impatiently.

“You need to confront him, make him talk about it. Even if he doesn't want to. You deserve an explanation and no one can give it to you but him,” Stan said.

“How do I do that? We’re never alone at school and every time I call his house he says he’s busy. He won’t talk to me,” Eddie said.

“Show up unannounced. Maggie loves you, and she’d be more than happy to let you in to see him, or to let you wait for him if he really is busy,” Stan said.

Eddie let out a big sigh, “Okay, I’ll go in a little while. You don’t mind if I stay here and calm myself down first, right?” he said.

“Not at all. I’m always happy to help in a crisis,” Stan said with a smile.

Eddie gave a small laugh, “Yeah,” he said, eyes scanning the room. His gaze landed on something and his curiosity peaked, “Hey, does this really work?” he asked, picking up the bag of pot.

“It takes the edge off, yeah. Why do you ask?” Stan said, confusion evident on his face.

“Could I, uh…try some?” Eddie asked nervously.

Stan’s eyes widened, “Um, are you sure you want to?” Stan asked, growing less confused and more concerned.

“Well you said it takes the edge off, and I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m very on edge right now,” Eddie said.

“Well, I guess you could try some, but only a little. If you’re really sure,” said Stan.

“Okay how do I do this?” Eddie asked. Stan showed him carefully and watched with caution as he took his first hit. After a few minutes, he admitted, he felt a little better.

“Glad it helped. I’m shocked Eddie, I didn't think this would be your thing,” Stan said.

“How do you think I felt when I found it in your room of all places?” Eddie said with a smirk.

“Fair point. Just don’t tell the other losers, please?” Stan asked seriously.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Eddie said sincerely.

“Now let’s get you off to see your lover boy!” Stan said.

“He is not my lover boy,” Eddie said, appalled.

“We’ll see about that,” Stan mumbled to himself.

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Nothing. Now, off you go!” Stan said, ushering his friend out the front door. Before he closed the door, Eddie turned and gave him a hug.

“Thank you, Stan,” he said, before walking down the steps and off to Richie’s.

—

Eddie approached the Tozier household and knocked on the door. He waited a few seconds before nerves started to bubble up inside him once again. The door opened a beat later and he was greeted with a smile from the lovely Maggie Tozier.

“Hello, Eddie! What a nice surprise, we haven't seen you in a while,” she said in the cordial way she always does.

“That’s actually why I came. Is Richie here?” Eddie asked.

“No, sorry. He left about an hour ago. He said something about meeting you kids at your ‘secret spot,’” Maggie said.

The clubhouse, Eddie thought.

“Do you want to come in and wait? I don’t know how long he’ll be, but we have leftovers from dinner if you're hungry,” Maggie said invitingly.

“No, thank you. I know where he is now, I’ll go find him,” Eddie said with a thankful smile. He turned on his heel and ran down the street.

—

Eddie slowed his pace and began thinking of what to say to Richie, but it only made him more nervous. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but very few he would be willing to admit aloud. As he got closer to his destination, he found himself pulling something out of his back pocket. It was pot he snuck out of Stan’s house.

Maybe it wasn't the smartest move to sneak it out, but he wanted it, just in case he needed another wave of relaxation. He took some, well, a lot, and by the time he got to where he needed to be, he felt serene. He opened the hatch and started climbing down the ladder, missing a step in his haze and falling to the floor. By the time he realized what happened, there were hands on his shoulders and a voice saying his name.

“Eddie, are you okay?” the voice asked, full of concern.

“Richie?” Eddie said, hyper aware of the boy kneeling in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?” Richie replied, emphasizing his previous question.

“I’m fine. I need to talk to you,” Eddie said firmly.

“Oh, um, okay,” Richie said warily. He didn't want to do this right now, but he didn't have an excuse to leave and he was too worried about the hard fall Eddie just took. He helped the boy up and gestured toward the hammock. Eddie started to walk over, but Richie noticed how disoriented he was and could smell the drugs on him.

“Are you high?” Richie asked, stunned.

“Maybe a little,” Eddie said with a giggle.

“Why? How did you even get pot in the first place?” Richie asked, dismayed.

“Doesn’t matter. What does matter is you avoiding me,” Eddie said in an accusatory voice.

Richie looked down, “I didn’t mean to, I just—“

“Why do you hate me?” Eddie asked wistfully.

Richie looked up quickly, “What? Eddie, I could never hate you,” he said reassuringly.

“Then why have you been acting this way?” Eddie demanded.

“I just—I’ve been scared!” Richie said.

“Scared of what?” Eddie cried.

Richie paused for a moment, thinking. “I want to tell you, I do, but I don’t want to lose you,” he said, voice breaking.

Eddie grabbed his hand, “You’re not gonna lose me, Rich,” he said.

Richie looked up and they locked eyes, and he could tell that Eddie meant what he said.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “But not right now. Not when you’re high. How about you stay the night at my place and we’ll talk in the morning, yeah? That way your mom doesn't see you like this and I can make sure you're safe,” Richie offered.

“I’d like that. I’m holding you to your word, Tozier,” Eddie said.

“I promise,” Richie said holding out his pinky. Eddie intertwined it with his own.

Richie let out a quiet laugh, “Okay, let’s go.”

—

Richie got Eddie into his house and upstairs with no problems. His parents were happy to see the two of them hanging out again, they gladly let Eddie sleepover and offered to call his mom to let her know.

Eddie got under the covers as Richie started making himself a makeshift bed on the floor.

“Oh, come on. You know you don’t have to do that. This is what I was talking about earlier, you won’t even sleep in the same bed as me anymore,” Eddie said, sounding more upset than he intended.

Richie didn't have a good argument, and he was tired, so he succumbed and said, “Well, if it bothers you that much. Move over.”

Eddie obliged and Richie turned off the light before making himself comfortable under the covers. That is, if comfortable meant stiff as a board. At this point, Richie knew Eddie didn’t mind sharing a bed with him, but that didn’t stop those intruding thoughts from reminding him how revolting his touchiness and neediness must be. He stayed there, unmoving, until Eddie rolled into his side and threw an arm over his torso. Richie froze.

“You know, you haven’t called me Eds or Eddie Spaghetti in a week,” Eddie said quietly.

“I thought you hated it,” Richie said.

“Yeah well...I miss it,” Eddie paused, “I miss this...I miss you,” he finished, burrowing deeper into Richie’s side.

“I didn’t know you cared so much,” Richie replied.

“I do care, Richie. I care so much. I don’t know what I did but this past week without you has been horrible,” Eddie said.

“You have the others,” Richie mumbled.

“I know and I love them, I do, but they’re not you,” Eddie said, getting quieter during the last part.

Richie didn’t know what to say to this, so he ended the conversation before it could go any further, “Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie sighed sadly, “Goodnight,” he said, rolling away from Richie, despite wanting nothing more than to stay wrapped up in his warmth until morning.

—

Richie woke up first, but instead of letting himself admire the sleeping boy, he started getting ready for the day, distracting himself from thinking about the coming conversation. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, threw on some clothes, then returned to his room to find Eddie sleepily stretching.

“Good morning. How do you feel?” Richie asked.

“I’m thirsty and my mind is kinda hazy but I’m okay other than that,” Eddie said.

“Hold on,” Richie ran out of the room and came back soon after with a glass of water. “Here,” he said, holding it out for Eddie to take.

“Thanks,” Eddie said, grabbing it and taking a big drink. “Okay, you promised me we would talk now, so talk.”

“Okay...” Richie said, hesitantly sitting next to the boy. “Lately I’ve been thinking, well, over-thinking would be a better term, and I realized how touchy and needy I am. I’m worried you think it’s gross and annoying. I’m worried that you’ll grow to hate me if you don’t already, so I distanced myself to prevent that from happening,” Richie said honestly.

“Richie...” Eddie said sadly. “Why would you ever think that? Have I somehow lead you to believe I don’t want you around? I know we jokingly bicker but I never mean any of it, you’re my favorite person for fucks sake, so please please tell me if I hurt your feelings,” Eddie pleaded.

“It’s not your fault. My logic is, I hate myself, so why wouldn’t everyone else hate me too? I’m worthless. I don’t know why you guys have put up with me for so long,” Richie said.

Eddie engulfed him in a hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “There is nothing to ‘put up with.’ Yeah, you’re loud and make crude jokes and like to mess with us, but those are few of the many reasons we admire you. There are so many people that love you, your parents, the losers, me, don’t you ever forget that. I don’t care how ‘touchy and needy’ you get, I’m always happy to be on the receiving end. And if you ever feel bad like this again, please talk to me and I’ll gladly remind you how wonderful you are because I refuse to let you believe any of this shit you tell yourself,” Eddie said, hugging the boy tighter.

“That’s just it, Eddie. I hear what you’re saying but I can’t understand it. I don’t get how you could care that much about me when I’m such a burden. My head constantly tells me you do it out of pity, and whose to say that’s not true?” Richie said, crying quietly into Eddie’s shoulder.

“Richie. Look at me,” Eddie said sternly, pulling back from the hug. “I say that’s not true. It’s bullshit. Don’t you get it? You’re everything to me. And let me tell you something, the world could end tomorrow and I wouldn’t give a shit! But if I had to live without you, I think I might just fall apart, if this week is anything to go by. I’ve been a mess thinking you hated me, just miserable! It’s pathetic how much I missed you, ask any of our friends,” Eddie said earnestly, not even caring that he practically spilled his love all over the place. If it meant Richie was happy, well, he’d do anything.

Richie sat stunned, tears free flowing and hands shaking. It took him a moment to comprehend everything Eddie just said, but as soon as he did, he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, “I love you so much. I-I’m in love with you,” he said, voice breaking.

“Is that what you were scared to tell me?” Eddie asked.

Richie just nodded solemnly.

“Oh, come here, dumbass,” Eddie said, tugging at Richie’s shirt and smashing their lips together. The kiss was slow and ardent, conveying all the years of devotion the two felt toward each other. Richie pulled back first, dazed and confused.

“Are you fucking with me?” he asked, worried.

“No! I love you too, you idiot,” Eddie said.

“Seriously?” Richie asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes! I have for years! I love your nerdy face, your dumb jokes, and your horrible fashion sense. I love the warmth I feel when you hug me, and the way your hand fits in mine. I love the way you make me feel safe no matter what, and most importantly, I love you, Richie Tozier, and I’ll spend my entire life reminding you of that,” Eddie said, gently lifting Richie’s hand and placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“You’re wondrous, Eddie my love,” Richie said, reaching a hand up to Eddie’s cheek. He got close and hesitated, afraid to touch the boy, in case the facade he so feared wore down and Eddie vanished right in front of him. Eddie sensed this, and leaned into Richie’s hand.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours, baby,” he said softly, turning his head slightly to kiss Richie’s palm. The taller boy’s breath hitched, feeling so overwhelmed with love that he didn't know what to do. Luckily, Eddie took charge, inching closer and closer until he was in Richie’s lap.

“Be my boyfriend?” Eddie asked.

“I would love nothing more,” Richie said, beaming.

“Fantastic. Now that that’s settled…I believe you have a week of being gone to make up for. How do you plan to do that?” Eddie said expectantly.

“What would you say to a one-way trip to Tozier Town full of kisses and cuddles galore?” Richie said, giggling.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “I’d say ‘take me away, funny man,’” he laughed, throwing his arms around the boy. Richie leaned in and captured his lips, gently laying him back on the bed and flipping them over. He pulled Eddie down into his arms and they stayed there for hours, reveling in each other’s warmth. It came time for Eddie to go home, but before he let him leave, Richie held the boy tighter and peppered his face with kisses.

“What was that for?” Eddie said, slowly getting up and smiling.

“Because I can,” Richie said, admirably grinning at his boyfriend. Eddie blew a kiss from his place in the door and turned to walk down the hall.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he heard a fairly loud “Goodbye, Spaghetti!” from the direction he just came from. His heart swelled at the nickname and he hovered on cloud nine the whole way home.

[umikichi7]

Pull me closer

Pairing: Kotoumi

Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, hugs, after sex

Link: ao3

--

Ominous clouds brimmed to overcast the sky, occasionally letting thunder rumble in the relentless pit-a-pats. It finally began to chuck it down as the last cracking boom felt in Kotori’s skin to cause her to wake up on her bed.

She was trembling over the severe sound another side of the window, adrenaline rushing her veins. She cast the bed sheets aside vigorously and found the nearest clothing material on the ground to cover the chillness her body has been feeling. In fact, the room was hardly seen in the darkness creeping up, yet she could find a cardigan to swing around her shoulders. She paced to the window ledge to watch the rainy madness dancing on the misty glass, she then flung herself into the nebulous sighting.

Her mind drifted to a few hours ago when she and her girlfriend had physically bonded after they decided to retire the day for themselves.

Hands brushing each other’s skins ever so gently that the lust had yet to kick in minds.

Fingers entangled in the mass of hair like a show of battle for dominance.

Venturing over curved bodies in the persistent exploration as hands entirely traveled very smoothly.

Softly marked sensitive spots that would later need to be covered.

Kissing her lips was a sweet addiction and true passion within the frame of entrancement. She was at ease whenever she kissed Umi’s lips.

‘’Ko...to...ri?’’ A very sleepy voice permeated the air, just like a prelude to a new song to Kotori’s ears in her frightened state.

Kotori glanced over her bed and spotted the half-sleepy girl. She felt her worries loose their keen fear. Thanks to the occasional lightning flashes coming from the window, Kotori could see Umi rubbed the sleep in her eyes in a very cute way. Her heart filled with warmth.

‘’Umi-chan,’’ Kotori muttered under her breath, wanting to be careful about the level of her voice.

‘’D-Did I wake you up?’’ she stammered out.

Umi stood up and fumbled towards Kotori at a moment’s notice.

Kotori was just shivering even her breath hissed for every thunderclap, and Umi could feel it in her nerves even if she didn't see it yet.

Another boom and Kotori panicked on the chair until she felt the hands enfolding her body very tightly as if shielding the most precious gem for any possible incursion. Kotori blushed profusely, her breath taken away in the second Umi rested her head on her shoulder and got much closer to her this time.

“Don't worry, I'm here.”

A velvety whisper hovered her ear reassuringly, Kotori’s heart skipped a beat momentarily. She forgot the tremendous uproar outside while loosening the restraint her tense body has been kept under.

Kotori tried in vain to brush it off with a forced smile, ‘’I...am just a bit scared… Maybe watching outside would help but-’’

This time was a tad bolder than expected, it would be expected Umi to spontaneously combust at this moment yet she just turned back to meet Kotori’s eyes.

The golden, innocuous orbs glimmering in the dim light manifested themselves as a dream, Umi just caressed her face with her thumb.

‘’U-Umi-chan…’’Kotori held her wrist and slowly drawn to this soft sensation. Umi deepened her gaze on her and felt the warmth seeping between her fingers. Kotori’s face stained another shade of red.

‘’I love you,’’ Umi said in a very serene tone that the shivering finally came to a halt. A minute passed and Umi couldn’t help but cup her puffy cheeks, which the latter only chirped in return (///８///)

Umi surely succumbed to unraveling this side of her and her reaction. Her body was draped over the other girl, with hands engulfing her whole body and Umi’s head securely nestled in the crook of her neck.

‘’I love you too and thank you Umi-chan. I’m glad you’re here for me,’’ Kotori softly glanced down at her. This time she palmed her face and kissed her on the lips.

A sweet taste in the mouth. This was definitely her favorite dessert at night.

After several breathless moments, they broke apart and stared at each other with glowing blushing on their faces. They smiled together as their hands were on each other again before Kotori sneezed.

‘’Let’s put on some clothes before we catch a cold,’’ Umi said and dragged Kotori into their bed again.

It seemed the scattered shower has finally gone with the dejected mood all along.

[writeyouin]

How about a v for vendetta imagine where he and the reader have their first date, maybe in the shadow gallery and he cooked something for his s/o. Maybe he could blindfold them in order to be able to enjoy dinner as well, without his s/o seeing the scars?

V X Reader - First Date

A/N – I merged a few requeststogether for this one, I hope that’s okay. @stridershunts & @otakuontheoutside for building your request into this.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You inspected the contrabandwardrobe meticulously. All the clothing inside once belonged to a museum andwas ordered to be destroyed until V liberated it. You lightly brushed over thefabrics, searching for something that would be appropriate for a date. Pickingthe outfit was supposed to be the easy part but you were already nervous,wanting to make everything perfect for the man you already knew you loved.

At times, you wondered how V managedboth you and his work. You hated living in the Shadow Gallery. Correction, youhated being left alone in the Shadow Gallery. How could you not? Being onLondon’s most wanted was bound to have psychological consequences, yet V acceptedyou as you were, doing everything he could to accommodate your social needs,even going as far to leave tapes of himself while he went away so you couldtake comfort in his voice.

Pushing all thoughts out of yourmind, you settled on an old, red and black Victorian outfit from the 1900’s andwent to your room to get changed.

Meanwhile, V inspected himself inthe mirror. He was in his usual garb, minus the weapons, the lack of which lefthim feeling somewhat naked. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask you on adate when he could never give you the life you deserved or put you above hiswork. It was a purely selfish act but for once, he didn’t care about beingselfish, if it only meant he could have you, at least for one night.

Deciding that he had hesitatedenough, he journeyed to your room, knocking lightly. You opened the door,stunning V momentarily with your outfit choice. He finally uttered a suave,“Your radiance lights up the drab halls of the Shadow Gallery.”

You smiled apprehensively,thanking him for the compliment and returning it.

“I merely look the same asalways, you however are beautiful beyond words.” He offered a gloved hand,“Shall we?”

You linked with him, “I’d lovenothing more.”

The date options were of courselimited to the Shadow Gallery, V was after all, London’s most wanted. He ledyou to the kitchen; one of your favourite rooms to spend the day reading in forits homey feel. He sat you down at the small table where a candle danced andflickered before you.

“Now I must ask you a favour,” Vsaid.

“Anything.”

“Please wear this to spareyourself from some virulent views that shouldn’t grace such eyes as vivaciousas yours,” he held out a blindfold.

You glanced at the blindfoldsadly; after living with V for as long as you had, you were no stranger to hisscars.

“V…” You breathed. “You don’thave to hide from me.”

“I know (Y/N) but those scars…they aren’t me. Tonight, I want you to be with the real me, please.”

You gave a small, consenting nod,“Okay… for you, okay.”

He tilted his head thankfully,moving behind you to tie the blindfold; he lingered, lightly grazing your neckbefore going back.

Shortly after, the sounds ofchopping filled the kitchen, as well as the smell of fresh vegetables.

You smiled, “Skilled fighter,film connoisseur, purveyor of fine arts, and now a chef. Is there anything youcan’t do?”

“A great many things, thoughthere is always time to improve, is there not?” V responded.

“Maybe.”

“What of you, do you enjoycooking?”

“I love it.”

“Hopefully one day I’ll get totry something of yours.”

Hesitantly, you got up from thechair and made your way to the counter where V was. He watched amusedly as youcrashed into the counter.

“So, what’re you cooking anyway?”You asked, propping yourself up against the counter.

“One was thinking of the simpleyet elegant vegetable stew to start, a bolognaise for the main and chocolatemousse for dessert. The meals may not complement one another but that’s whatthe chancellor’s supply train had to offer for ingredients.”

“And we didn’t even invite him todelight in this meal with us. Maybe he’d be nicer with some half decent meals.”

You reached around blindly forany available ingredient, eventually coming across a potato. V grabbed yourhand, stopping you from slicing it on a knife.

He put the knife in your handgently, “You could have asked.”

Being careful not to cut yourself,you started peeling the potato. “Where would have been the fun in that?”

It was a quick discovery thatyour new-found blindness made cooking harder than you’d imagined. V watched inawe as you butchered everything you touched, often coming close to hurtingyourself. It wasn’t long before he found that he had to intervene. V moved inplace behind you, gently placing his hands over yours; he hadn’t put his glovedback on and you could feel the ravaged flesh the fire had left in its wake.

Ignoring it, you let V guide you,enjoying the closeness of his body against yours. With him, you felt not onlysafe but comforted…loved.

“I love… this,” You finishedlamely.

He rested his head on yourshoulder, memorizing your smell and the scene unfolding around the two of you,wanting it to last forever. “I do too.”

The rest of the meal preparationfell into a comfortable silence. Neither of you wanted to cheapen or ruin themoment with words that couldn’t possibly convey how you truly felt. For now, therewas nobody to harm you, no political backlash, and no fears of the future; youboth were lost in time, protected from the outside world. While it wasn’t atraditional date, you knew you had V and he knew, for the first time, that hehad you too.

After the meal, V felt he had todo something to make u for leaving you in the dark life the Shadow Galleryforced upon you. Every mission where he left you left his heart heavy with guiltand now he knew he could trust you above all else.

“Come with me,” he linked withyou again, acting always as a true gentleman.

“Where are we going?” You askedas he took you to a secret staircase behind a tapestry of two knights jousting;it was something you passed daily but had never put much thought into.

“It’s a surprise.”

Cool air wafted your hair and thescent of London hit you all at once as you were brought to a roof somewhere youdidn’t know. It had never occurred to you to ask how V got out of the ShadowGallery; now you knew at least one of the exits and it was beautiful.

“Thank you,” You said breathlessly,tearing up at the view you’d never believed you’d see again.

V waited a few minutes for you totake in the surrounding sights and sounds before breaking the serene scene andspeaking, “(Y/N), if there’s anything I want tonight, it’s to make tonightperfect for you. Is there anything else I can do to do that for you?”

You folded your arms on thebalcony, avoiding V’s watchful gaze as you contemplated the impossible. “V…This is one of the greatest things you could’ve ever given me but…”

“But?”

“What I want… What I really,really want is to know more about you. I know you think that’s impossible sinceyou don’t even know your own past but if there’s one thing you can show me… Iwant to see you, the real you.”

“(Y/N),” V sighed.

“I know you say that isn’t thereal you, but it was at one point, please… let me see the man you were so I canknow the man you are.”

V considered your request. So far,you’d never asked for anything and now you were set on asking the impossible.If that’s what it took to win your heart, he’d do so; even if he repulsed youso much that you’d hate him after.

“Very well, only for you.”

V lifted his mask.

You swallowed thickly. It wasn’ta face, simply gashes and eyes that had seen too much hatred in the worldalready. Tenderly, you touched his cheek. V shuddered.

“I love you,” You whispered,pressing your lips where your pal had been seconds ago.

V embraced you, placing his maskback on behind your back. With his mask back in place, he had the confidence tospeak again, “I love you too.”

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[ecotone99]

[FN] Frame of Mind

*Frame of Mind* said the sign, painted in blueish grey on a wooden board. The “d” had almost washed off. Below the sign, silk mauve cloth graced the stocky wooden table. Placed carefully on the table lay twenty pairs of spectacles. Four evenly spaced rows, five pairs each. From afar, they reminded Helga of marching soldiers, but as she approached closer, the semblance dissipated, because each pair was thoroughly unique in shape, color, and tint of the lenses.

​

Helga knew of spectacles. There was the kind with thick lenses made of transparent silica, for astronomers and alchemists and priests to make up the small letters in their books. Some of the teachers in school had them, and her own mother used to have a pair. And there was another kind, with tinted silica that shields the eyes from bright light.

​

Helga's attention was drawn to a pair of thin golden perfectly round frames encasing soft pink lenses, with a pearl gracing the end of either hinge.

​

"Beauty, aren't they?" Said an old but lively voice, startling Helga into noticing the man behind the table. The man was short in stature with sandy, wrinkly skin and robed in a thin hooded cloak, muddy brown in color.

​

"Mister Min." The man's milky blue eyes narrowed, whether in a smile or in attentive focus, Helga couldn't discern. "Pleasure to meet you.

​

"Helga." said the girl. She leaned closer to the table's surface. Most of the lenses had a tint of color to them. "Are these for looking at the suns?"

​

Now the man was certainly smiling.

​

"They can be. Depends on what you're looking at the suns for."

​

"What do you mean?"

​

"Here, try these on." The man got up from his chair, slowly, like for the first time in eternity. His hands, in contrast to the rest of his body, moved swiftly and gracefully. He grabbed the golden spectacles by the hinges with the lanky fingers, leaned across the table, and gently placed them on the girl's face.

​

"Aah!" - Helga exclaimed, involuntarily. As she was looking at the old man's face through the spectacles, his beard darkened, his back straightened and his wrinkles diminished until he looked like a lad of Helga's age. He let out a sad laugh.

​

"I look young to you now, don't I? These spectacles make everything you lay your gaze on seem as beautiful as it's ever been, or as it can be."

​

Helga looked up at the suns.

​

"The suns look the same" She said.

​

The old man pulled out a small jeweled mirror and held it to Helga's face.

​

"So do you."

​

***

​

The merchant showed Helga the spectables that let you see the person as they seem themselves. He showed her a pair that let you see things the way you did when you were merely six years of age. Helga was quite taken by the pair that contained a snapshot of the world at the time they were forged. He began to show her his favorite pair: one that allowed you to see sad events in a joyful light, or joyful events in sad light.

​

***

​

Helga reached for the spectacles on the far right corner of the table. The lenses of this pair were pitch black, as was the frame. Helga wrinkled her brow.

"And what are these?"

​

The man frazzedly grabbed the spectacles out of Helga's hands and frowned.

​

"Give me those. I will find them a home in a museum, not on a human face."

​

"Why?"

​

"Once you put these on, you may never see things the same way again. It's a risk with all of these spectacles, but this one is much too dangerous. Once you put it on, you experience the world as it was before you arrived, and as it will be after you depart. The man who forged it did not realize that human minds were not built to handle that particular perspective. The apparent serenity of it comes at a steep price: you lose your primal fear, and any attachment to how anything turns out."

​

""

​

Helga met the old man's gaze.

​

"What do you want for them?"

​

The old man shook his head.

"I'm not selling these to you."

​

"Why not?" Helga protested. "They were displayed here with the rest of your goods!"

​

The merchant crossed his arms and cocked his head.

​

"Fine. These will cost you two hundred sheckels."

​

"Two hundred sheckels! I don't have this kind of money!"

​

The merchant sat back down, pulled a small cloth from his robe's pocket and began cleaning the black lenses.

​

"Oh, well. I guess you will have to pick something else then. You can have the golden pair for eight and a quarter."

​

Helga took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. Then, quick as a fox, she snatched the black spectacles from the man's hands, and escaped into the crowd.

​

***

​

Helga heard her mother try to suppress a fit of cough as she heard Helga run up the porch stairs. The girl went into the kitchen, filled a glass of water and wet a small towel. She then hurried into her mother's bedroom, and placed the fresh cool towel on the woman's forehead.

​

"Thank you, Ellie." Said the woman weakly. "How was the fair?"

​

"It was good, mum. I got you some reading spectables."

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[coloredinsanity]

Backstage was a hustle and bustle... Serenity found it quite impressive to see people running back and forth. Some with props and others with equipment. She was trying to focus on that rather than her nerves...

They were wanted on two shows and due to the recording schedule it was decided that Key and Jehovah would go to one of them leaving her with Pride...Not that she minded that particular fact. Her eyes darted back to where he sat beside her with a calm and bored expression as he leaned back. One leg crossed over the other and his eyes partially closed but he was evidently still awake. It'd been about 20 minutes without anybody paying him attention aside from the makeup artist who came to make sure both there hair was right and in Serenity's case try to force her to put on some makeup.

"You're never nervous...Are you?" Serenity asked. Pride took a moment before he realized she was speaking to him and looked at her and her cute curious expression...  He grinned as per usual and shrugged his shoulders. "What's there to be nervous about?"   Serenity sighed a little and flushed faintly as she placed her hands on her lap and toyed with the layered pink skirt she was wearing.  "Everything? What if I say something wrong or I stumble over my words..? Or - "    Pride glanced at her worried eyes and realized how nervous she actually was... He quietly debated for a moment as he slid off his chair and took her hand in a playful manner. "Then just talk to me... If I agree with it - Everyone else does anyways~"  Although in his usual self centered way of speaking she could tell what he meant by it... He was trying to cheer her up even if he could be terrible at it sometimes. "Thanks."

A woman walked by and spoke loudly as she passed. "Casual Hostility! You're on in 2. Follow me."  She stated loudly as she led the way to the curtain that led out to the front.  The small woman glanced to them once they reached the curtain. "As we talked about - When you hear him call and the music cue just walk out and head towards the chairs. You can wave to the audience and such if you'd like to."  

It felt like time suddenly shot by as they heard the host start speaking loudly to the audience. Chris Hill.    "Welcome back from the break everybody!" He said with a wide grin as the audience cheered and he continued... "So. I've been listening to a lot of local music lately... And one local band has been climbing the charts with there song 'Sweet things' and today there first music video for the song launched on YouTube and it's already to 25 million hits and counting...  Please put your hands together for Serenity Alan and Pride Sine!"

The audience started screaming but it seemed to go up in volume the minute Pride's name left his lips. The music cue started although it was hardly audible over the cheering. Pride strutted out without even a second thought as he walked out from behind the curtain and smirked, Waving to the audience as he stepped out from behind the curtain.  As he soaked in his applause however he did notice that Serenity wasn't by his side as she hesitated behind the curtain, Unsure and nervous...

In a casual movement he spun around on his feet and reached behind the curtain and grabbed Serenity's hand and in a smooth movement pulled her out and spun her around. Serenity went along with the movement mostly out of muscle memory.  The act got a huge cheer so nobody complained and Pride just linked his arm with Serenity's so she wouldn't bolt and led her towards the chairs and taking the one closest to Chris. Serenity plopping shyly into the other one beside Pride. As the audience calmed down a little he began to speak. "Always with the showing off..." He said with a laugh and Serenity giggled a tiny bit at Pride's cheesy grin in response.

"So. You two must be excited your video is doing so successful, Right? Who would've thought it would blow up so fast?"

Serenity nodded timidly and Pride smirked as he replied aloud.  "Of course. I'm hardly surprised it was successful, I'm in it."  His confidence was strong per usual and Chris let out a faint chuckle. "Well - It's good to be proud of your work.  A lot of people are wondering though why 'Sweet Things' got the first video when it appears that 'Going to hell' is a much more popular song from your singles. Why did you decide on that?"    

Pride thought for a moment before glancing at Serenity with a faint smile as he playfully nudged her. His hand falling near her's as he rested it and spoke. "Serenity probably has a better answer for that question..."    He stated as he opened the door for her to speak.  Serenity took a deep breath and smiled as she tucked some hair behind her ear and looked more at Pride then at Chris as she spoke. "U-Uhm. Well... The man who's been working with us on the music videos, Elliot Monte... He was planning to do Going to hell but once he met us we both decided that Sweet Things shows off us as a group better..?   I mean of course you have Pride's fantastic drumming and Key and Jehovah just completely nail the guitars... But you also have Jehovah singing along with me - It's just. Everyone has a moment during it and it shows all our strengths. My own a-ablitiy to go soft and harsh is clearer in that song..."  Serenity shyly smiled and the audience clapped a little.

Chris grinned a little bit. "That makes sense... So now that we've got the boring questions out of the way..." He stated as he leaned back, Grinning at the camera and winking in a playful manner. The audience oohing loudly.  "It's come to my attention that you two seem to have a thing for each other~"  

Serenity's face instantly flushed bright red and she shyly looked down but Pride barely seemed to flinch at the question.  Chris grinned, Laughing faintly. "Or at least one of you do... There's no point in denying it. I went ahead and gathered some pictures of you two that the paparazzi snatched.

He pulled out the stack of blown up photos that'd been taken of the two of them the last few months... It wasn't intentional that the two of them spent so much time together but Key and Jehovah tended to split off..Generally to drink or make out. Leaving the two of them together.

The first photo was from one of the days of the music video shoot... The context had been lost to the media but Pride had ended up carrying Serenity to the car in the rain since she could barely stay upright in the rain since the heels had practically no traction.

  The second photo was from after a show with Pride hitting a wall with his drumsticks and Serenity was caught mid dancing with both of them having huge smiles plastered on there faces. Pride had said something that Serenity thought would be a good lyric and the two of them kept working on it during there walk. Serenity hyped up on the adrenaline rush from performing tended to have her loosened up hence the dancing...

The third photo made the entire audience let out a long ' Aawww' sound as Serenity sat with Pride's jacket over her shoulders, Leaning against him and seeming to be dosing a little bit on the set of the video...

And the fourth was of the two of them having lunch together and although as far as they were concerned it seemed innocent enough it was clear there was something there in there smiles and laughter.

Pride even realized this as he looked at all those photos. Generally - His thoughts always just included himself or how something effected him but as he was forced to sit through the photos being shown he realized that in every situation even if he told himself it was about him... It wasn't.

He carried Serenity under the pretense of looking cool in front of the cameras but he remembered thinking about the fact he didn't want her to hurt herself and it was clear how much she was struggling to him...

He was only having fun with her that night and wasn't even concerned about himself or much else. He was happy to be with her and working on music and the fun they were having together.

He recalled how tired she was from how busy they were before the flight to work on the other part of the music video since they'd gone to  a specific location for some parts and yet she was still trying to take care of everyone else... Make sure they ate and slept while she stayed up and finished some paperwork they needed to do.  So even if it was for a few minutes he wanted to see her get some rest and hardly minded being used as a resting place...

And that lunch... Everyone was right even if he hadn't noticed it but Serenity was something different... He wanted to spend his time with her and unlike most people. He actively thought about her outside of himself.  He did like her more then just a friend and it only just occurred to him and now that he knew it almost wanted to burst out of him as he looked at her.

He moved to his feet and walked over to Serenity much to the confusion of the room... His fingers reached forward as he slipped his fingers through her hair and caressed her cheek gently. His arms slowly pulling her into them from the chair and quickly pressing his lips to her's  The audience went crazy and cheered at the top of there lungs for the most part. A few of the die hard fans of pride boo'd  but for once he barely noticed they were there.

Serenity was a little shocked but she gave in quite quickly as she obviously liked him and this was exactly what she'd wished he'd done ages ago... And some part of her panicked about being on TV and all the little things but being with him was all that mattered to her in this moment and she didn't want it to end...