#that ending was so satisfying and I can’t wait to see what eon makes next

[rainydayhaze]

apparently eon essentially winged the entire plot (according to the afterword)

conclusion: they’re just built different LMAO

Happy almost year of the dragon! (Eon is so big-brained if they planned the story to end now)

[drabbles-mc]

Breaking In

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Request by @garbinge​: So I did some prompt searching today and found this and thought about maybe a little best friends to lovers trope with Bishop: “look, i know that we rarely agree on things, and i know that you're not happy about how i choose to do things, but you're here, and i love you for it.” anddddd “are you gonna pull the trigger?”

Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending), Bishop being the stubborn man that he is

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I haven’t shown Bishop some love in a while and I really liked these prompts for him. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Bishop Losa Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @queenbeered @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @arveeee @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @blessedboo​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!)

It had been a few days since you and Bishop spoke. The two of you had gotten into a minor blowout. You guys argued on a fairly regular basis, but it was always coming from a well-intentioned place on both ends. You were protective of each other and with the life that he lived, it was stressful to care so much. He wanted to keep you as far away from club business as possible, and you wanted the exact opposite—you couldn’t protect him or yourself if you didn’t know what you were going up against.

When you had called Bishop that day and asked if he was free to grab a drink, just wanting to see and talk to him after the long week that you’d had, he told you not to come by the clubhouse. He let you know that the club had pissed some people off and the clubhouse was a bit of a hot-spot. The information was meant to deter you, but if anything it made you speed over there as quickly as possible to make sure that everyone was alright.

When Bishop heard your car pull onto the lot, he made his way over to it, not even allowing you the chance to make it to the steps of the clubhouse. He tried to get you back into your car, telling you that sometimes you need to just fucking listen to him when he tells you to do things. You weren’t a person who took kindly to being bossed around, not even by Bishop, so things got out of hand pretty quickly after that. And it had been radio silence since.

You were getting out of the shower, ready to pull on your pajamas and climb into bed when you heard your phone buzzing on your bed. You hated that you were hoping to see Bishop’s name on the screen. It wasn’t, though. With a sigh you picked it up and answered.

“Hey, Angel, what’s up?”

“Hey. You with Bish?”

You scoffed, “No, why?”

There was a slight hint of amusement in his voice, “Damn. Alright. Didn’t realize that was a tense question,” he paused, “He left a few hours ago pretty pissed off. Stormed out of his meeting with Taza and Hank. We just…um…know that you two kinda…”

“Kinda what?”

“Don’t get defensive,” he laughed, “He just. You know. He talks to you. Figured you should be the first person to call since he isn’t picking up his fucking phone.”

You sighed, “I haven’t seen him.”

“Alright. If you do—”

“I’ll let you know.”

He tried and failed to bite back a chuckle, “Thanks. Take care of him, yea?”

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you, “That’s all I’m ever trying to do these days.”

“We love you, y’know.”

“I know,” you laughed, “Bye, Angel.”

“Later, Y/N.”

You tossed the phone back onto your bed as you weighed out your options. It wasn’t like Bishop to blow off the club like that. You had no idea what was going on—he made sure of that the past few weeks, but it must’ve been something rough to make him storm out and shut his phone off. As much as you wanted to keep giving him the cold shoulder, your heart wouldn’t let you.

So that was how you ended up parking in his driveway that night. His bike was in the driveway and even though the house was dark, you knew that he was home and that he was more than likely still very much awake. He was never able to sleep when he was angry, which was half the reason the man was so exhausted all the time.

You were digging around in your purse as you made your way up the driveway. Eons ago Bishop had given you a spare key to his place in case of emergencies. You never really needed it. Whenever you were going to his place it was always because you were invited, so the door was always unlocked. He wasn’t expecting company now though, especially not yours.

Taking a deep breath, you slid the key into the lock. You were rewarded with the clicking sound of the lock opening. Part of you expected him to have changed the locks since he gave you the key so long ago. You were glad that he didn’t because the prospect of trying to open and crawl through a window wasn’t an inviting one. And you knew that if you knocked on the door and tried to get him to let you in, he would just ignore you. You knew because you would do the same thing to him if the roles were reversed.

The door always took some extra effort to push open. Bishop was more than handy and you never understood why he didn’t just fix it. Whatever the reason, you found yourself shouldering the door rather hard to gain entrance to the house. You stumbled in, bracing yourself against the door to keep from falling to the floor when it finally gave way.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath as you straightened yourself out and pushed the door shut, locking it again. As you were going to pull your shoes off, you heard the unmistakable click of a gun. The house was dark and you knew that he probably had no idea that it was you. You chuckled, “Are you gonna pull the trigger?”

You heard him huff as he reached and turned a light on, “What the fuck, Y/N? You’re gonna get yourself shot breaking into places like that.”

You waved the key around, “Not breaking in if I have a fucking key.”

He put the safety back on and set his gun to the side. Exhaustion and frustration was present in every inch of his face. Part of you wanted to hug him, and part of you wanted to smack him because you still weren’t done being mad at him for being an ass to you.

“Why are you here?” he didn’t sound overly annoyed, just tired.

“The guys called me—they’re worried about you,” you walked closer to him, “Figured I should stop by and make sure you didn’t go off on a bender.”

He held his arms out, as if inviting you to inspect him, “Satisfied?”

As much as you wanted to keep being mad, your brain was telling you to reach out to hug him, to caress his face and make the worry lines fade away. You didn’t, though—you couldn’t. Instead, you shrugged, “For now. I’m not leaving, though.”

“Oh?”

“You can’t kick me out of the clubhouse and your house, Obispo,” you walked over and plopped down on the couch.

He sighed, “We’re still arguing about that?”

“We can be done arguing about it if you admit that I’m right.”

He sat down on the couch next to you, “You can’t admit that I had a little bit of a right to be mad?” he shook his head, “I asked you to do one thing and you just—”

“What about me made you think that I would just leave you guys alone if things were getting rough?” you didn’t let him finish his sentence, “I’m willing to break into your fucking house to make sure you’re alright. You think that I wouldn’t make the drive over to the clubhouse to make sure you’re safe?”

“So you do admit it’s breaking and entering?” there was a hint of a smile on his face, and you hated that it made your heart feel a little fuller.

You rolled your eyes, “Not the fucking point.”

His expression sobered, “I know. But you…you do get why I don’t want you involved in all that shit, right?”

“Not really.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to choose his next words carefully, “I’m not going to be the reason you get fucking shot. If you got hurt because my club got into shit with the wrong people I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

“You aren’t responsible for what I do. I make my own fucking decisions. You don’t get to ice me out because you get nervous. You’re my best friend and you don’t get to just decide that I—”

“I can’t do this without you!” he snapped, shaking his head. He took a deep breath, making a conscious effort to quiet his voice, “I can’t lose you. You can get mad at me all you want over that. If you ignoring me for a few days, a week, keeps you alive then by all means fucking do it. If something ever…I can’t…” he couldn’t get his words in order.

You felt your attitude melting away as you watched him fumble to put his feelings into words. You reached out and rested your hand on his arm, “Bish, hey, come on now,” you smiled, “I’m tough. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“Yes, I do,” despite your attempt to lighten the mood you could still see the heaviness in his eyes, “I’ve watched a million things fall apart in my hands. You can’t be another thing that gets added to that list. And if that means you’re going to hate me from time to time then I’m willing to live with that.”

“I’ve never hated you,” you said with a shake of your head.

He waited for your eyes to meet his, “Look, I know we rarely agree on things. And I know you’re not happy about how I choose to do things,” he covered your hand with his own, “but you’re here, and I love you for it.”

Your eyes widened at his statement, “Wh-what?”

He gave your hand a squeeze, “I love you.”

“Even when I’m kicking in your door?”

He chuckled, nodding, “Especially then.”

Your heart was racing inside your chest—you were almost certain that Bishop could hear it as he sat next to you. This wasn’t where you had been picturing the conversation going. Everything that you’d kept bottled up for years was bubbling to the surface as you smiled over at him, “I love you too.”

“And I’m sorry for yelling at you when you came to the clubhouse,” he sighed, “I just…I was picturing the worst and I didn’t want you caught in the middle of it.”

“You worry too much.”

He chuckled, his gaze meeting yours, “Someone has to.”

You felt like you were supposed to have something profound and meaningful to say. But as you sat there next to him and let him stare deep into your eyes, there wasn’t a single word or phrase that came to mind that could say what you really felt. That being the case, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he rested his hand on the back of your neck, keeping your lips attached to his. You braced yourself against him as you leaned farther and farther into the kiss. His fingertips pressed lightly into your neck and you wished that you could just melt completely into him.

When you finally pulled away, both of you had satisfied smiles on your faces. You laughed quietly as you reached up, tracing your fingers through his beard, “Do me one favor, Obispo?”

He nodded, “Anything.”

“Fix that fucking door,” you laughed, “Next time I wanna come and see you I don’t want to feel like I’m committing a criminal act.”

He laughed, kissing your temple, “I can do that for you,” he paused, “Thank you for not giving up on me. I know I don’t make it easy.”

You chuckled, “Neither of us make it easy. Keeps us both humble.”

He pulled you into another soft kiss, “I love you.”

You kept your forehead pressed against his, “I love you too.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Void Dust.”

Here is the third story for the week. I hope you enjoy!

It had been sleeping , it had been sleeping for a very long time. No one could have known the eons that passed away quietly while it rested in the darkness, cradled by the universe which had spawned it. It was deep within the quiet and the darkness where the cloud cocooned it and protected it from the outside universe.

Not that it much needed protection.

It would know if something was coming, the darkness it had built around itself was thick, and any disturbance would alert it as it could feel the ripples and disturbance of the cloud.

Lying beneath it in the darkness, the ancient starborn lay quietly in the darkness. It had been here for almost as many eons, playing dead and not daring to move a muscle. It could see nothing, but based on the mind of its friends, now long gone, it knew that it could not move without alerting the creature to its presence, and subsequently becoming pray.

It did not know where it’s companions were, floating off in the darkness with their bodies cracked and their juices sucked from their insides. They imagined that anything bumping against their arm or leg might be the the corpses of one of their fallen, but still they lay still never dreaming to look up, just knowing that even the slightest move would cause chaos.

Besides, the soular energy in it’s ribbons had died away millenia ago, and there was no way it would be able to move fast enough to retreat from the thing sleeping in the darkness. So there was only to wait, for thousands of years before and thousands of years after as new stars were born and died, and the entropy of the universe brought it closer and closer to collapsing.

In the cold madness of their mind they imagined the universe collapsing in on itself as would be inevitable and found itself wishing for that feeling the madness  tugging at the string in their thoughts.

The darkness around them was so silent and oppressive.

The only sound came from the thoughts of the great creature that lay in the darkness, and they dare not push to far as the creature might notice their presence as well. The only thing to do was lay quietly and let their mind die away into nothingness as the eons turned into eternity, without even a glimpse of infinity left.

***

Adam sat in the pilot’s chair as he wanted, controlling the strange craft as he had been directed by one of the mikes. He had offered to take his ship in, but they had insisted he take one of theirs. This small ship was capable of micro warping, and so could be taken into the abyss without him gambling on his entire ship and everyone inside. He didn’t bring very many people with him, only a scientist or two who had interest in studying blackness more closely. He didn’ need warriors. If there was going to be combat, it would take place inside the ship.

He pressed his hand against the glowing dome on the console before him and slowly accelerated forward. tThe controls of this strange ship were pretty dummy proof and relatively easy to handle. He would have bet any layman could have flown one in space to some degree of success, though, at an offer to being able to fly an alien ship, it wasn’t like he was going to let anyone else take his place.

“Anything.” he radioed back to the ship.

“Nothing you signal is still clear, beginn the first microwarp progression in ten.”

He reached forward flipping the switch that would prepare the ship for a microwarp, and then turned the dial to bright green to indicate that it was going to be a microwarp burst. The mikes said that the micro warps weren’t exactly the most pleasant thing ever, but it probably shouldn’t bother a human all that much.

He was sort of flattered by their faith in humans, but still braced himself as the countdown began.

There was a sudden jolt as the end of the countdown came, and his stomach crawled down into his belvis and his heart jumped up into his throat. The world turned itself upside down three or four times in quick succession, hardly allowing him to get his bearings until finally they jerked to a stop.

His body swayed slightly as he rocked forward in his seat. Behind him he heard the scientists groan softly. He shook himself surprised to find that apparently the mikes could handle undamped warp. He guessed that those little guys were a bit more resilient than he thought they were.

He reached out to key the comms array, “Omen, this is Dragonfly, do you copy.”

He had to wait for a few seconds before they came in, “Dragonfly this is omen, we are still reading you but…. The signal is extremely weak, I don’t know but it seems like you are further away than you should be. We are getting back very little signal from you. If it weren’t for the microwarp signal, I doubt we would catch your signal.”

That seemed strange to him, they weren’t father out from the Omen than earth was from mars, which in the astronomical view of things wasn’t very far at all, mars was practically in Earth’s backyard even when they were on opposite sides of the sun.

“Alright, copy that, we are going to go ahead and do some tests here and then warp back.”

He turned around in his seat to make sure the scientists were already to their work, and of course they were, taking readings and making measurements. 

Adam let them do what they needed to do, offering to help if they needed an extra hand, but knowing they probably wouldn’t need it.

He walked over to the window and looked out into the darkness. He was staring back towards the ship, but frowned. Something seemed rather strange.

He leaned forward a little and squinted.

It seemed…. Darker than it should have been.

Yeah sure space was plenty dark in comparison to direct sunlight on earth, but there was always some light filtering in from somewhere. And if this palace really was just a giant black pit of nothingness devoid of stars, than he should still be able to see the stars behind them with relative ease.

“Have you guys tried just…. Looking outside.”

The scientists lifted their heads from their instruments and stopped puzzled at what they saw.

“Can you take measurements about the amount of light that is coming through to us.”

They nodded, “yes sir, it wouldn’t be that hard at all.:

“And knowing how bright those stars are normally, can you make a base comparison to see if they are dimmer or brighter than they should be at this distance.”

There was a generally consensus that was something they could do, and so he left them to their work staring out the window nervously tapping his foot against the ground. He would have liked to help them, but at the end of the day he was a pilot and a soldier, not a scientist, and the most he would ever have been able to help with was orbital calculations.

***

It drifted in the darkness and before its dreamscape thoughts it saw colorful visions of the darkness before it. It saw an expanse of blackness and then pure white and then rushing stars all around it. Colorful nebulae swam in its vision lighting it with warm cosmic rays of the universe warmed it from one infinite end to the other.

It slept as the years in the thousands passed away.

It remembered light and darkness and, to its annoyance, that was encroached in on by images. Images of creatures bright white and blue  snaking through the darkness with little effort. Seeing that thing made it churn in its sleep. What a nuisance the creature and it’s master have been , for millions of eons what an annoyance, too powerful for their own good and annoyingly meddlesome. 

And that beautiful creature that curled around it’s undeserving neck. 

More churning, more agitation. It's great vast body swirl the mist around it in a great billowing cloud as it knocked against small things in the darkness, small things, tiny things….

Dead things.

Sure it has gotten a little bit of revenge against them, but that was hardly enough to satisfy it, but it had been given an ultimatum, either sleep for a million years or be destroyed, and so it slept on angrily, waking up every few thousand mallinea out of spite for the great powers that had forced it here.

***

Adam brought them back to the omen with another microwarp.

This time he was more prepared and shook off the dizziness a little easier as he came into place. 

“Admiral…. Admiral are you there.”

The voice seemed nervous, which made him rather nervous as he keyed the mike,, “Yeah this is Adam, what’s wrong.”

“Sir, we have lost your signal, we can’t seem to find you.”

He frowned, “Look out the window, I am right here.”

He heard scrambling on the other end of the line and then, no sir, I… we can’t see you, and the radar isn’t picking up anything.” With a frown adam turned to his windscreen and then paused. It was almost completely black outside, which didn’t seem right. He had warped right to the coordinance he had been given.

He leaned over his radar equipment examining the blinking lights like the Mikes had instructed, and on the radar he could see the Omen bright and proud right next to them, but for the life of him, he couldn’t see.

That was…. Mildly unfortunate.

“Open up the landing  port on deck D, I am going to land, make sure there is a decontamination field ready.”

An affirmative response came over the line, and he slowly coaxed the ship forward using only the radar to manuver. The scientists behind him sat nervously, their teeth gritted as he flew blind, but they shouldn’t have worried, if anyone was going to pull off such a stunt, it was going to be Adam.

They landed without cause for worry, and the airlock doors closed behind them. He couldn’t see the red blinking light, but he could feel the slight thud as the doors closed and the pressure equalized. It was then he knew for sure something was off. He still couldn’t see anything.

He pulled on his helmet and instructed the others to do the same before opening the hatch.

The group of them stepped outside onto the deck, just as another few teams in hazmat gear were spilling onto the deck. When they did Adam watched as both mikes and Humans alike stopped in shock, staring back at the small shuttle.

Adam turned and his eyes went wide.

He took a step back and then another until he was standing halfway in between the two groups staring at the shuttle. It was…. A void, or that’s how it looked. The outside was coated in a layer of blackness so profound that no light reflected from it. There were no curves or contours, making it appear as a flat 2D object in a 3D space. He blinked two or three times not sure what he was seeing.

He circled the ship from one side to the other, and on all sides the story was the same. It was so black, that it completely absorbed any and all light.

A few of the scientists moved forward muttering, while the others looked over the data that had been collected.

The leader of the Mikes floated up, “I believe this is why we could not hear your signal.” he motioned to the ship, “IAs radio and other frequencies are simply forms of light, if,.... Whatever this substance was blocking your way, it would have been difficult if not impossible to send any sort of light array through that cloud.

“So that is what we think it is then? Some sort of cloud.”

There was a nod from the Mike, or at least a sudden flashing of lights which Adam  determined was similar to a nod.:”

One of the mikes returned, having scraped a sample off the side of the ship and put it into a small vile.

“See here, it seems as if this substance is some sort of densely packed dust cloud with very ultrafine particles.”

It jiggled the dust around in the vile and almost immediately the entire inside of the vile was covered in it.

Adam turned to look at his ship, “But…. in that case.” He frowned, “This all doesn’t make sense because….” he paused, “Nebulae are clouds of dust, but the dust itself is almost impossible to notice while you are INSIDE the nebulae. Nothing condolences that close together without forming a star of some kind. There is no way that this dust is packed together thick enough to cover the entire shuttle without accumulating into some sort of mass.”

The mikes looked as if they agreed with him but one of them was lost mostly in thought.

“It wouldn’t if something was periodically disturbing the dust?”

“If it was, than based on the laws of motion, the dust would have dissipated by now and would not have just stayed in the same area.”

“Perhaps there is some sort of gravitational field that keeps it pulled into place?”

Adam shook his head, “Again we ask the question that, if there is some sort of gravitational field than why hasn’t all the dust accumulated it it yet.” he held up his hands, “I am not trying to argue with your logicalm all I am saying is that cloud is not behaving in a logical manner, so I have a very hard time believing this is some sort of natural phenomena.”

There was a pause as The scientists looked between each other.

“So you are under the impression that this is some sort of….. Phenomena drive from….. Organic means? As in it is artificial and created by aliens?”

“What other explanation is there?”

***

They were almost crushed to death as the creature moved. Its infinite mass knocking against them and  sending them wildly out through the mist. It cried out in pain inside its mind as dark particles flew ast it pepering its skin and became ingrained into its body as it had done for millions upon millions of eons. The force was so great that it was shot out from the cloud at unbelievable speeds though the movement of the particles past it’s body slowly slowed them until they were simply adrift.

They opened their eyes for the first time in a millennia and what they saw….. What they saw almost broke them. Distant light from a thousand tiny pinpricks rolled in the universe above them. The light from stars looking so  warm and distant that they could have died of happiness at that moment. They opened their ribbons expecting the subtle charge of sunlight, but felt nothing.

They paused in confusion and then looked down at themselves.

They could see nothing.

In horror the realization struck and they clawed at their skin trying to rip off the black dust from what had once been porcelain white,  but nothing they did work, a thousand years had allowed the grains to infiltrate their body and dye their skin with impenetrable blackness. They moaned softly in despair knowing that they would never move again. Without the sun they could not move, without the stars they would die.

But perhaps it was better to die where they could see the light rather than somewhere they could see the darkness.

They had almost given in to this reality when they lifted their head and saw other things floating past them.

It was hard to make them out as they too were stained with the strange dark substance, and so they only saw them as dark smudges against a backdrop of stars, but soon they saw enough, enough to see thousands upon thousands of lifeless stained corpses floating out from the cloud, their ribbons dangling limp behind them.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 1: “Who keeps hanging all this damn mistletoe everywhere?”- Poe Dameron

A/N: It’s here! It’s here! The 12 days of Christmas writing challenge has begun! Everyday up until Christmas day I will post a new story! All the prompts have been requested! Thank you so much for reblogging, commenting, and liking! 

This was requested by @poedameronloverx​ I hope you enjoy it! 

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + for language 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie 

My Masterlist 

12 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge Masterlist 

During the middle of a war is not the most ideal time to celebrate the holidays. War doesn’t stop just because you hang some lights. The resistance was a depressing place to be at the moment. Small incursions resulting in heavy losses, the lack of new intelligence, and the overhanging threat of the First Order dampened the season. 

Although some never gave up it was becoming harder and harder not to be pulled under the cloud of hopelessness. Poe Dameron was not one of these people. Poe never gave up hope even when things had become desperate. BB-8 faithfully rolling by his side, the two of them went around spreading cheer around the base. They started with the decorations. Large garlands made from the forest leaves outside strung together with white lights and bright orange bows tied together from old flight suits. How they managed to hang them that high you had no idea, and frankly didn’t want too. Then came the music, classic songs from eons past filtered through the comms during missions, in the mess hall, and even the cantina. The atmosphere began to shift around base as the colorful decorations and music began to lift their spirits. 

The third step of their plan began the week before Life Day. A strange green plant with white berries began appearing. In doorways around the base the plant appeared. 

“What the hell is all this stuff?” you said aloud to yourself. 

“Mistletoe,” Jess snaps you from your thoughts and you turn to her questioning. 

“What the hell is mistletoe?” 

“Mistletoe is the common name for obligate hemiparasitic plants in the order Santalales. They are attached to their host tree or shrub by a structure called the haustorium, through which they extract water and nutrients from the host plant, very toxic. Although in the custom of Life Day they are used as a decoration under which lovers are expected to kiss. A most strange custom,” you and Jess both turn slowly to see 3PO standing behind you pointing his gleaming arm toward the plant. 

“So you're telling me someone put a toxic plant all over the base so that people would be forced to kiss each other?” 

“Precisely,” 3PO says cheerfully. 

“Right,” you nod sarcastically, “perfect.” 

“I think it’s kind of romantic. Who are you hoping to kiss?” Jess sighs. 

“No one,” you scoff. 

“Not even....Poe?” she wiggles her eyebrows and nudges you with her elbow playfully. 

“No way, the poster boy for the resistance doesn’t even know I exist...I think the existence of the other person is probably the first step of getting someone to kiss you.” 

“Don’t you hang out with BB-8 all the time?” she teases. 

“Yes, BB-8 assists me with my work on the ships but I’ve never really spoken to Dameron before. Sure, a word here or there but he doesn’t really notice me I’m just a mechanic. Plus I am waiting for a special person to kiss me on Life Day this year,” you start walking toward the mess hall, Jess following alongside. 

“You mean your secret admirer?” she coos giggling. 

“As a matter of fact, yes. They promised that during the week before Life Day they would leave me some more hints around base and then reveal themselves on the big day. But I haven’t received anything in two weeks...with all those casualties last week...I think my secret admirer might be gone.” The darkness hanging overhead seeps into your bones and you rub your eyes in exhaustion. 

“I wouldn’t be too quick to write them off. Maybe they are just waiting for the right time...like right now.” She points to your usual table in the mess hall overflowing with bright white and orange daisies. 

You walk in a trance toward the table and see your name scrawled on the cover of an envelope. You tear it open and devour the words, holding the letter tight to your chest you sigh. They’re alright, you thank the maker and ask Jess for help carrying the daisies to your work station. Trying to ignore the murmuring crowd around the table. It takes three trips but finally your workstation is overflowing in the colorful flowers, their sweet scent permeating the air. You inhale and smile still clutching the note. Jess walks over smiling patting your shoulder and giving you a one armed hug before going off to work. You look down and let your eyes flow over the note again. 

Hello Gorgeous, 

I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks. With the recent losses we have faced I have been busier than usual. These past few months of exchanging letters with you have been some of the happiest in my life. I can’t wait to finally meet you and reveal myself to you on Life Day. I hope these flowers bring a smile to your face as bright as mine was picking them for you. 

All yours, 

Your secret admirer 

You look around again at the sheer number of flowers covering every space of your workplace, and laugh imagining them picking each one special. Tucking the note safely into the pocket of your jumpsuit you get started working on the x-wings. By the end of the day you are starving from skipping lunch and exhausted. You take a sniff and wince at the sharp smell of engine oil and grease soaked into your skin. 

In the mess hall it’s late not many people are still up but they are luckily still serving food. Although it’s debatable what the resistance is serving can be called such. You poke hesitantly at the food and pull your notepad from your bag penning a response back to your secret admirer. 

Hi,  I’ve been so worried that you may have been one of those casualties that my heart melted when I saw my name on the envelope. You have spoiled me with the sheer number of flowers, and they smell so sweet. I have missed your letters and can’t wait for Life Day when we can finally meet.  All yours,  Your secret admirer 

You tear the paper off and fold it up before finishing the meal. You yawn as you take the long way home and pass your spot. You pull at the loose brick in the wall and place the letter inside before going back to your room for the night. 

The next morning, the sun streams through the small window of your room. Your roommate is already gone for the morning so you take your time in the fresher and pull on a fresh jumpsuit before grabbing a nutrition bar and leaving. When you get to your workshop BB-8 is waiting. The droid quickly became your friend when you first arrived several months ago as a transfer. He was great company on the larger projects around base. 

“Are you here to help me out?” you greet the droid dropping to a knee. He beeps happily back to you and you grin back at him. 

“So this is where my droid spends his day?” The voice behind you startles you and you rise quickly tripping over a canister on the ground. You feel the ground quickly come up to meet your back when you're flipped and land solidly on the chest of Poe Dameron.

“Are you okay?” he runs his hands over your head. You look into his deep brown eyes nodding. “Damn, I...I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Your brain just suddenly realizes that you’re still laying on top of him and scramble to get up, brushing yourself off and clearing your throat, “Oh uhm, thank you for catching me Commander.” 

“Poe,” he instantly corrects, and you say his name causing a smile to break out across his cheeks, “As I was saying, I wanted to meet the mechanic that has my droid making heart eyes,” he teases making you blush. 

“Oh...BB-8 is a wonderful droid. I am lucky enough to have him help me out,” you avoid eye contact, attempting not to make a complete fool out of yourself. 

“He speaks very highly of you, and I can see why,” he grins. You're sure at this point you must be the color of a tomato when he takes another step toward you taking your hand gently, and bringing it up to his lips. “I hope to see you again, very soon.” He places a gentle kiss on your knuckles and smiles before leaving. 

When he is gone you sigh and look down at the droid who quickly opens a compartment and lights the flame into the form of a thumbs up causing you to giggle. “Not the smoothest interaction I’ve ever had buddy but thanks for the support.” 

The rest of the week is a flurry of activity around the base as everyone tries to complete their work ahead of schedule for the Life Day celebration. The days are long in your workshop but luckily a steady stream of notes between you and your secret admirer make the days seem to go by quicker. 

Until the day finally arrives. The base while still maintaining itself is mostly run by droids today as people make their way over to the mess hall for the festivities. You check yourself over in the mirror again, smoothing out any wrinkles in your green dress, and placing the white snowflake hair-clip in place. Satisfied with your appearance you head off to your spot to check for any notes. Pulling the stone away and giving a slight squeal at the paper stuck inside. 

Today’s the day we finally meet. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and tell you how I feel about you. Meet me under the mistletoe.  All yours,  Your secret admirer 

You tuck the note into the pocket of your dress and race off to the mess, linking arms with Jessika as you pass her in the hallway and all but dragging her to the room. Your breath catches as you arrive. The room illuminates with twinkle lights in white, red, and green. Large candles are flickering in the center of the tables, and the room smells heavenly of tip yip and roasted vegetables. But one thing stands out amongst it all and your heart sinks. 

“Who keeps hanging all this damn mistletoe everywhere?!” Jessika asks, walking toward the buffet line. 

Everywhere you look sprigs of mistletoe hang. From the ceiling, the doorway, and everywhere in between. How the hell were you going to find your secret admirer now!? Jess shouts over to join her and you reluctantly do. The Life day celebration is a blast. People playing games, exchanging gifts, and the liquor flowing freely. You could almost forget for a minute we were in a war. 

The night slowly starts to wind down and you feel even more heartbroken as you start to pack up your small gifts from friends when BB-8 crashes into your side. Beeping hysterically. 

“What buddy, slow down! Poe...Poe WHAT?!” you shout and several heads turn to look at you as you follow the droid who is racing from the room. You run as fast as you can to keep up and when you turn into the hangar your steps falter. Standing under the open bay doors in a colorful sweater with BB-8 sewn on it is Poe Dameron smiling broadly. 

“What...what’s going on?” you stammer, “BB-8 said you were hurt, that you needed help…” 

“I wanted to get you alone,” he reaches for your hand and pulls you closer until you're standing directly in front of him. 

“Poe...what?” he sticks one finger up and points, your head tilting up to look above you and seeing the mistletoe hanging from the open bay doors. Your blood pounds in your ears and your lips turn up into a small smile and your voice gets very quiet, “It’s you.” 

“It’s me...are...are you disappointed?” he’s surprisingly shy and you shake your head no quickly stepping closer. 

“No...not at all...I...I wanted it to be you,” you whisper and his smile is almost blinding. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t,” you match his smile and he leans forward capturing your lips with his own. He’s warm and soft and tastes like peppermint and chocolate and you sigh opening your mouth to his. You’re so caught up in the moment that the shrill beeps of BB-8 capture you both by surprise, and Poe holds you close in his arms as you both smile down at the droid. 

BB-8 beeps at you happily and Poe nods laughing before kissing you again, “Yeah buddy, happy Life day to you too.” 

[missdawnandherdusk]

Glass House

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

I got people blamin' me for shit they did to me

Lots of people shamin' me for shit they didn't see

So point the finger, pull the trigger, throw them off your trail

You're diggin' me my grave, but keep the shovel nearby

Dig your own right next to mine

I got people sayin' take an eye for an eye

I just turn the other cheek cause you ain't worth my time

'Cause you see in black and white

But there's more than just wrong and right

Chapter 1     Chapter 2    

Chapter 3    Chapter 4

Chapter 5     Chapter 6

Summary: Lines start to blur between wrong and right as you and Draco try to make it through the first semester of sixth year alive. Can you both keep up the charade long enough to survive? Can laughter and smiles hide what’s lurking underneath?

A/n: Y’all know what’s up. I’m so excited for this chapter honestly because there is so much character growth in our power duo as well as side characters and ugh I would die for Pansy. Also, I haven’t quite decided what to do with Snape yet... I don’t really hate him, not that I particularly like him either. Anyway, let me know what you think! I love seeing all of your comments you have absolutely no idea!! Stay strong and always keep fighting: this chapter deals with some dark stuff. I hope that you all see how to find a ray of sunshine in the midst of hell by reading this. ((I also cleaned up my taglist and got rid of the ones that tumblr wasn’t letting me tag anymore, so if I accidentally deleted you, lmk and I’ll add you back!! And Tumblr still isn’t allowing me to add a lot of you and I’m sorry ://// It’s not that I don’t love you bc I’m trying here))

Prologue:

“Cissy, you must not do this, you can’t trust him —”

“The Dark Lord trusts him, doesn’t he?” Narcissa snapped back at her sister.

“The Dark Lord is . . . I believe . . . mistaken,” Bella panted, and her eyes gleamed momentarily under her hood as she looked around to check that they were indeed alone. “In any case, we were told not to speak of the plan to anyone. This is a betrayal of the Dark Lord’s —”

“Let go, Bella!” Narcissa snarled, and she drew a wand from beneath her cloak, holding it threateningly in her sister’s face. Bella merely laughed.

“Cissy, your own sister? You wouldn’t —”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do anymore!” Narcissa breathed, a note of hysteria in her voice, and as she brought down the wand like a knife, there was another flash of light. Bella let go of her sister’s arm as though burned.

“Narcissa!”

But Narcissa had rushed ahead. Rubbing her hand, Bellatrix followed again, keeping her distance now. At last, Narcissa hurried up a street named Spinner’s End, over which the towering mill

She had knocked on the door before Bella, cursing under her breath, had caught up. Together they stood waiting, panting slightly, breathing in the smell of the dirty river that was carried to them on the night breeze. After a few seconds, they heard movement behind the door, and it opened a crack.

A sliver of a man could be seen looking out at them, a man with long black hair parted in curtains around a sallow face and black eyes.

Narcissa threw back her hood.

“Narcissa!” said the man, opening the door a little wider, so that the light fell upon her and her sister. “What a pleasant surprise!

“Severus,” she said in a strained whisper. “May I speak to you? It’s urgent.”

“But of course.” He stood back to allow her to pass him into the house, Bellatrix following suit.

“Snape,” she said curtly as she passed him.

“Bellatrix,” he replied, his thin mouth curling into a slightly mocking smile as he closed the door with a snap behind them.

Snape gestured Narcissa to the sofa. She threw off her cloak, cast it aside, and sat down, staring at her white and trembling hands clasped in her lap. Bellatrix lowered her hood more slowly.

“So, what can I do for you?” Snape asked, settling himself in the armchair opposite the two sisters.

“We . . . we are alone, aren’t we?” Narcissa asked quietly. He nodded in confirmation.

“Severus, I’m sorry to come here like this, but I had to see you. I think you are the only one who can help me I know I ought not to be here, I have been told to say nothing to anyone, but —” Narcissa rushed out, her words stumbling over each other.

“Then you ought to hold your tongue!” snarled Bellatrix. “Particularly in present company!”

“‘Present company’?” repeated Snape sardonically. “And what am I to understand by that, Bellatrix?”

“That I don’t trust you, Snape, as you very well know!”

Narcissa let out a noise that might have been a dry sob and covered her face with her hands. Snape set his glass down upon the table and sat back again, his hands upon the arms of his chair, smiling into Bellatrix’s glowering face.

“Narcissa, I think we ought to hear what Bellatrix is bursting to say; it will save tedious interruptions. Well, continue, Bellatrix,” said Snape. “Why is it that you do not trust me?”

Narcissa tuned the bickering pair out as her thoughts started to spiral again. Draco consumed her psyche and in turn so did Y/n. They were woven together in fate as she and Lucius were and

Narcissa was sure of the matter. It seemed like eons had passed since Narcissa found herself in Y/n’s shoes, and she knew that somewhere she had failed watching her love turn into a monster and she did not wish the same fate upon her son.

“That was not my fault!” said Bellatrix, flushing. “The Dark Lord has, in the past, entrusted me with his most precious — if Lucius hadn’t —”

“Don’t you dare — don’t you dare blame my husband!” Narcissa hissed, in a low and deadly voice, looking up at her sister, butting into their squabbling.

“There is no point apportioning blame,” said Snape smoothly. “What is done, is done.”

“But not by you!” said Bellatrix furiously and the two continued to argue until Bellatrix still looked unhappy, though she appeared unsure how best to attack Snape next. Taking advantage of her silence, Snape turned to her Narcissa.

“Now . . . you came to ask me for help, Narcissa?” Narcissa looked up at him, her face eloquent with despair.

“Yes, Severus. I — I think you are the only one who can help me, I have nowhere else to turn. Lucius is in jail and...” She closed her eyes and letting free the tears that had been threatening to fall for days. “The Dark Lord has forbidden me to speak of it,” Narcissa continued, her eyes still closed. “He wishes none to know of the plan. It is... very secret. But—”

“If he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak,” said Snape at once. “The Dark Lord’s word is law.”

Narcissa gasped as though he had doused her with cold water. Bellatrix looked satisfied for the first time since she had entered the house.

“There!” she said triumphantly to her sister. “Even Snape says so: You were told not to talk, so hold your silence!”

But Snape had gotten to his feet and strode to the small window, peered through the curtains at the deserted street, then closed them again with a jerk. He turned around to face Narcissa, frowning.

“It so happens that I know of the plan,” he said in a low voice. “I am one of the few the Dark Lord has told. Nevertheless, had I not been in on the secret, Narcissa, you would have been guilty of great treachery to the Dark Lord.”

“I thought you must know about it!” Narcissa relaxed, breathing more freely. “He trusts you so, Severus...”

“You know about the plan?” said Bellatrix, her fleeting expression of satisfaction replaced by a look of outrage. “You know?”

“Certainly,” said Snape. “But what help do you require, Narcissa? If you are imagining I can persuade the Dark Lord to change his mind, I am afraid there is no hope, none at all.”

“Severus,” she whispered, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. “My son . . . my only son . . .”

“Draco should be proud,” said Bellatrix indifferently. “The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: He isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, and he should, since he’s in love with that filthy little blood-traitor—”

“Watch your tongue Bellatrix! I was in her position when the first war began!” Narcissa’s voice became cold and harsh before she turned back to Snape. “Draco is barely sixteen and has no idea what lies in store! Why Severus? Why my son? This is vengeance for Lucius’s mistake, and I know it!”

Snape said nothing. His lack of response confirmed her fears. Again, her Lucius had been twisted in such a way to damage her son.

“That’s why he’s chosen Draco, isn’t it?” Her voice held no ounce of hope. “To punish Lucius?”

“If Draco succeeds,” said Snape, still looking away from her, “he will be honored above all others.”

“But he won’t succeed!” Narcissa rose, almost yelling. “Severus...please...You are, you have always been, Draco’s favorite teacher... and his godfather...I beg you... You are the Dark Lord’s favorite, his most trusted advisor...Will you speak to him, persuade him —?”

“The Dark Lord will not be persuaded, and I am not stupid enough to attempt it,” said Snape flatly. “I cannot pretend that the Dark Lord is not angry with Lucius. Lucius was supposed to be in charge. He got himself captured, along with how many others, and failed to retrieve the prophecy into the bargain. Yes, the Dark Lord is angry, Narcissa, very angry indeed. And I think even more so since Draco has found himself weak with that girl,” He snarled the word.

“Then I am right, he has chosen Draco in revenge!” choked Narcissa. “He does not mean him to succeed, he wants him to be killed trying!”

When Snape said nothing, Narcissa seemed to lose what little self-restraint she still possessed. Standing up, she stalked to Snape and seized the front of his robes. Her face close to his, her tears falling onto his chest, she hissed, “You could do it. You could do it instead of Draco, Severus. You would succeed, of course you would, and he would reward you beyond all of us— ”

Snape caught hold of her wrists and removed her clutching hands. Looking down into her tearstained face, he said slowly, “He intends me to do it in the end, I think. But he is determined that Draco should try first. You see, in the unlikely event that Draco succeeds, I shall be able to remain at Hogwarts a little longer, fulfilling my useful role as spy.”

“In other words, it doesn’t matter to him if Draco is killed!”

“The Dark Lord is very angry,” repeated Snape quietly. “He failed to hear the prophecy. You know as well as I do, Narcissa, that he does not forgive easily.”

Narcissa sneered and paced away, staring at the hearth. “My only son...my only son...”

“You should be proud!” said Bellatrix ruthlessly. “If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of the Dark Lord!”

Narcissa gave a little scream of frustration and clutched at her long blonde hair, before drawing her wand and pointing it at Bellatrix.

“You will never understand what this is like Bellatrix! You question my loyalty to the Dark Lord but what have I not given to him!? What have I not scarified!? He has taken my love! My family! My sisters! Now he has my son!”

“Narcissa, that’s enough. Listen to me.” Snape stood between the two sisters and Narcissa lowered her wand. “It might be possible . . . for me to help Draco.”

“Severus — oh, Severus — you would help him? Would you look after him, see he comes to no harm? He needs someone,” Narcissa gasped out desperately, her anger fading.

“I thought he had his precious little Hufflepuff,” Bellatrix sneered, but Snape paid her no mind.

“I can try to aid Draco,”

Narcissa composed herself, relief flooding through her veins as she gave him a slight nod.

“If you are there to protect him... Severus, will you swear it? Will you make the Unbreakable V ow?”

“The Unbreakable Vow?” Snape’s expression was blank, unreadable. Bellatrix cackled a laugh but Narcissa paid her no mind. Instead her eyes were trained on dark black ones that held a glimpse of hope.

“He loves her, Severus,” Narcissa’s voice was soft, lost under her sister’s snarking remarks. “You must understand that. Give him the chance you never had,”

Something passed between them, a memory of a girl with bright red hair and a boy who got lost along the way. “I shall make the Unbreakable Vow,” he said quietly. “Perhaps your sister will consent to be our Bonder.”

Bellatrix’s mouth fell open. Snape and Narcissa grasped right hands, not breaking eye contact.

“You will need your wand, Bellatrix,” said Snape coldly. She drew it, still looking astonished. “And you will need to move a little closer,” he said.

She stepped forward so that she stood over them and placed the tip of her wand on their linked hands.

Narcissa spoke. “Will you, Severus, watch over my son, Draco, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord’s wishes?”

“I will,” said Snape.

A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire.

“And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him and his love from harm?”

“I will,” said Snape. A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain.

“And, should it prove necessary . . . if it seems Draco will fail . . .” Narcissa could barely make the words out, “will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?”

There was a moment’s silence. Bellatrix watched, her wand upon their clasped hands, her eyes wide.

“I will,” said Snape.

Bellatrix’s astounded face glowed red in the blaze of a third tongue of flame, which shot from the wand, twisted with the others, and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands, like a rope, like a fiery snake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft sigh left my lips as I looked around my barren childhood room. Draco’s hands found their way to my hips as he stood behind me, taking in the same scene.

“It looks so much smaller now,” I murmured softly.

“Your home is at the Manor,” His lips pressed softly to the shell of my ear. “And we’ll be at Hogwarts soon enough,”

“Oh joy,” I muttered, a smile finding my lips at I turned, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Are you sure we can’t just run away to Paris?”

A smile barely touched Draco’s lips.

“If I could, I would take you anywhere safe in a heartbeat,” His fingers brushed my cheek softly, sending a shiver down my spine. “But...”

“But our work is here,” I finished, straightening the lapels of his blazer, smoothing them out. “Are you sure you want to give up being a prefect?” I asked for about the hundredth time. “We still are kids Draco,”

His hands found mine, our fingers intertwining.

“It’s too much to have to worry about,” He murmured softly. “I already fear for both of our lives this year, let alone having to worry about prefect duty and classes,”

Sighing softly, I nodded, my hand creeping up his left arm and resting over his sleeve, over the Mark.

“I love you,” The words constantly left my lips as well as his. A constant reassurance that it would pull us through.

“As I love you,” He smiled this time, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Now, we’re going to be late. Pansy and Abby are already at the station,”

The Hogwarts Express shone in all of her glory, but this time it seemed as if there was something off about her appearance. Like she had been tainted with the secrets that her passengers held and weighted down with the fear that hung in her thick smoke.

Narcissa hugged us both goodbye and Draco and I met up with Pansy and Abby, also with our other friends: Ernie, Hannah, Vincent, Gregory, Blaise, and Emme. Emme and Hannah fawned over my new clothes and the former muttered that it wasn’t fair that I got prettier every year. I blushed at her words that deepened when Draco agreed, his hand slipping around my waist.

Settled in a compartment Ernie, Pansy and Abby all left for prefect duty—Abby had taken my place as Hufflepuff prefect. I wasn’t sure if anyone had taken over Draco’s position, nor did I fret about caring.

After the three had returned, there was a nervous tap on our compartment door. Emme opened the door and a third-year girl with large blue eyes and raven hair.

“T-these are f-for Abby B-Bones, B-Blaise Zab-bini and Y-Y/n Y/l/n.” She squeaked.

I stood, smiling kindly, Abby took her place beside me. The girl gawked up at us and maybe she had reason to; we weren’t exactly your average Hufflepuffs any longer.

“Thank you,” I took the parchments from her hands.

She nodded and with one more quick look around the compartment, she dashed off down the hall.

“What is it?” Draco was by my side, looking over my shoulder.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do,” I teased softly. “Impatient much?”

I unfolded the letter.

~

Y/n,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C. 

Sincerely,

Professor H. E. F. Slughorn

~

“Slughorn?” I said dubiously, trying to make out the overly ridiculous cursive font. “A new teacher?”

Draco took the note from my hands and I rolled my eyes, now peering over his shoulder. “Are you going to go?” Draco’s voice was calm and collected.

He was hiding his fear and disdain of me leaving his side even momentarily. My eyes found Abby’s and we had a silent conversation.

“I’ll go, see what it’s all about,” Abby spoke. “If this Slughorn really wants to meet Y/n, I’ll tell him where he can find you,”

“Thank you,” I wrapped her in a hug. “Be careful,” 

“You too,”

Blaise and Abby left—after Abby and Pansy shared a parting kiss that had me blushing and hiding in Draco’s shoulder. After a while, Draco stretched out on the empty seats, his head in my lap. My fingers played with his hair that had just been cut before the start of the new school term. I had to admit that I missed his shaggy hair. He looked much older now.

I was about asleep when the compartment door opened again, and Abby and Blaise came back in. Draco sat up momentarily, and we both looked expectantly to Abby for news while Blaise wrestled with the door.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” He snapped angrily as he smashed the sliding door repeatedly against something that didn’t seem to be there.

My eyes flashed to Draco’s and he kept his cool. I took his lead and looked to Abby as she went on about the meeting with Slughorn lamenting to Pansy. Draco’s eyes still lingered on the door, following something that wasn’t quite there.

Draco laid back down in my lap and my fingers resumed their task in his hair. His hand found mine and carefully he traced one letter on the back of my hand: “H.” To anyone else it would have looked like a comforting gesture.

I quickly signed one word to Abby: Harry.

She gave a small nod but didn’t let on that she knew anything. In fact, we settled back into the conversation of Slughorn and lunch.

“Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” Blaise rolled his eyes, huffing at Gregory who was trying to casually slip his arm around Blaise’s shoulders. “Not that he managed to find many.”

“Well-connected?” I frowned, my thoughts briefly straying from the fact we were being watched by the Golden Boy. “For what reason?”

“Dunno,” Abby shrugged, signing the letter H, reminding me. “No one too fancy, McLaggen from Gryffindor,”

“His uncle’s big in the Ministry,” Draco explained softly.

“— someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw —”

“Not him, he’s a prat!” Pansy exclaimed in horror.

“— and Longbottom, Potter, and Ginny Weasley,” Abby finished.

Draco sat up, my hands falling to my lap. He pressed an apologetic kiss to my temple and sat up straight next to me.

“He invited Longbottom?” Draco sounded almost dismayed at the fact.

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” Blaise said indifferently, now tucked under Gregory’s arm.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Draco muttered.

“What’s he got interest in me or Abby?” I pointed out. “It’s just a prissy preppy club filled people who don’t have any real charm other than who they know,” I huffed. “Well, present company excluded... And Neville has always been a sweetheart, and I don’t really know about Ginny...” I trailed off and both Abby and Pansy were rolling their eyes at me, but Draco was still distracted. “But...”

“Potter,” Draco picked up on my train of thought. “Precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at ‘the Chosen One,’” He sneered.

“Dray,” I called softly, snapping him from his thoughts. Though I still had a distaste for Harry, I knew that it wasn’t good for Draco to get worked up about Harry because it was hard to reason with him when he did. Draco laid back down in my lap and for the third time my fingers stroked through his hair.

“Maybe he’s going a bit senile.” Pansy offered. “No offense babe,” She mended quickly looking to Abby.

“Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his...” I heard the hurt in Draco’s voice this time.

“We’re more than who are parents were, or are,” I reminded him softly. “And this Slughorn seems... shady,”

“Who cares what he’s interested in?” Draco agreed, a bit more defensive than normal. “What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher.” He yawned ostentatiously and I laughed, ruffling his hair. “I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what’s it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?”

“Draco,” I scolded.

I’d let him get snappy and defensive sure, but he couldn’t just go around telling our plans to everyone. We needed secrecy for this to work.

“What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?” Abby demanded, looking to me.

I gave her a sharp look and signed “listen” and my eyes darted up towards the trunk compartments above our heads and she simmered down, remembering that we weren’t alone.

“Well, you never know,” Draco murmured softly, sulking up at me. “We could have... moved on. To bigger and better things,” There was an ounce of hope in his voice.

Everyone looked at the pair of us, either dumbfounded or suspicious.

“Do you mean — Him?” Pansy asked in a low voice.

Draco shrugged. If Draco was talking about better things, it would be moving onto a world where he didn’t exist.

“We’re finishing our education,” I pressed what seemed for like the hundredth time. “No matter how pointless it seems,” I muttered under my breath.

“The Dark Lord wants service, loyalty,” Draco reminded me. “Can’t do that from school can we?”

It was a constant argument we had. If we did manage his trial and came out victorious—as victorious as one could with what was asked of us—what would happen afterwards? Draco was convinced that he was going to actually take me away to Paris to be safe, but he had to see that I wasn’t going to abandon Hogwarts or our friends. After a while he agreed too, but it was always on the fence about the idea.

“And you think you’ll be able to do something for him?” Blaise unknowingly interrupted our silent standoff. “Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?”

“Maybe the job he wants me to do isn’t something that you need to be qualified for,” Draco whispered quietly. “I can see Hogwarts,” He sat up, looking out the train window. “We’d better get our robes on.”

___________________________________

Draco smiled as he fastened your silver cloak over your school robes and for a moment, he could believe that it was the winter of last year, that day in the snow.

“Pinnae hasn’t been out in a while,” He commented softly.

“Bigger things,” You replied softly. “Do you want her to...”

“I’m going to check on something,” Draco confirmed, knowing that you were still being watched. “You go on ahead.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, please,” You scolded again; your voice was so low that he doubted Potter could hear you.

With one last fleeting kiss, you left the compartment. Now Harry and Draco were alone. People were filing past, descending onto the dark platform. Draco closed the door and let down the blinds so that passersby couldn’t peer in.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Without warning, Draco pointed his wand—not your father’s—at Harry, who was instantly paralyzed.

Draco watched, as though in slow motion, Harry toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at his feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. Harry couldn’t move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Draco, who smiled wickedly.

“I thought so,” Draco grinned, kneeling down. “I heard Greg’s trunk hit you. And it’s hard to sneak when you have the most powerful wizards in the school in one compartment. We’re not idiots, Potter.”

His eyes lingered for a moment upon Harry’s trainers.

“And you didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I’ve got you here...”

Draco stamped, hard, on Harry’s face. He felt a satisfying crunch under his shoe and watched as blood poured from Harry’s nose.

“That’s for what you said to my Y/n. Now, let’s see...”

Draco dragged the cloak out from under Harry’s immobilized body and threw it over him.

“I don’t reckon they’ll find you till the train’s back in London,” he said quietly. “See you around, Potter... or not.”

And taking care to tread on Harry’s fingers, feeling quite satisfied, Draco left the compartment. 

“What did you do?” You hissed at him as he got into the carriage, riding to school.

“Nothing,” Draco said with a cool smile. You gave him a flat look. “I might have broken his nose,” He grumbled. “And put him in a full body bind curse...” You raised your eyebrow, knowing that wasn’t it. He didn’t know if he loved or hated that you knew him that well, “and hid him under his invisibility cloak...”

“Draco!” You cried. “Are you serious!?”

“He’s been nothing but a prat to us Y/n!” Draco argued. “And after what he said to you at Diagon Alley? And last year when he accused you of double crossing him!?”

“Okay, yes, and you broke his nose. I’m fine with that,” You gestured. “But Draco won’t it be suspicious when he doesn’t show up to school!? We can’t afford to make any mistakes!”

You glared each other down and Draco closed his eyes and sighed. He heard a soft huff come from you and your arms wrapped around his waist. His curled around you instinctively.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” The words were soft from your lips. “But Draco you can’t let this silly feud come over you like this,”

“It’s not a silly feud,” He argued back. You gave him another look.

“We need him,” The confession was small. “If we want to beat this. It’s gonna take all of us,”

Draco didn’t want to admit you were right. But there was something about Harry that set him on edge. Like he was a danger to you at all times when he was near. He almost attracted it like a magnet.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered softly. “Forgive me?” You nodded into his shoulder.

“I can see them,” You whispered softly, your head still tucked into his shoulder. “The thestrals. I always knew that they pulled the carriages but... I didn’t think that...”

You bit your lip, and he knew you were trying not to cry. Draco knew what the Dark Lord had made you witness, and it surprised him too, that seeing the death of your father counted when it was nothing but a memory. He stroked your hair softly and held you close the entire ride.

He hated that you had to part for the opening feast, watching the house sorting take place. When the Sorting Hat mentioned uniting within to face the dangers beyond the walls, his eyes flashed to yours, then over to the Gryffindor table. You were convinced that the Sorting Hat was right and that it would take unity in the school, but he wasn’t too sure. Was unity the key to his success? Would anyone want to stand beside him after what he was about to do?

His conscience was eased slightly when it was announced that Snape was now teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. If nothing else, you stood a better chance against what he dragged you into. Draco still had a disregard for Slughorn and couldn’t keep the grimace off his face.

Despite giving up your prefect duty, you still helped the first years off to your dormitories after waving a goodbye to him. It made him smile that some things never changed.

The next morning, he was surprised when you sat next to him at breakfast because schedules were being handed out and it was another morning that you were supposed to be with your House table.

“Got it last night,” You said as soon as you sat down, knowing the question before he asked. “I had to talk to Sprout about what I wanted to take anyways since I didn’t really ever decide on a career path.” Your voice was chipper, but there was something somber lurking beneath it.

Snape swept up behind the two of you and Draco was ready to defend you against his Head of House, but Snape simply handed Draco his schedule.

“Very well done,” Snape almost smiled, and for a moment Draco wondered what Snape was referring to. “On your O.W.L.s, you show a lot of promise Mr. Malfoy. As well as you Miss Y/n. I look forward to seeing you both in class,”

When Snape was out of ear shot, you gave him a look and he had no idea and no explanation. Snape had always been bearable towards him, but his contempt for you really baffled him. Draco assumed that Snape would loathe you because if anyone could persuade Draco out of his trial, it would be you. Sometimes Draco wondered why you didn’t.

In DADA the next day, Draco paired up with you and you two began to practice casting shielding charms without the incantation. The whole class was filled with shenanigans. Draco found comfort in the lesson, however. Through the summer break, you two had been working on defense spells against the Dark Arts as well as investing in them.

Draco knocked you off your feet for the third time and he could tell that you were getting frustrated. He offered his hand, righting you.

“Are you alright?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Yes,” You snapped. “Stupid spell,”

“Do you need a break?”

Your sharp look gave him his answer.

“You must completely trust the spell,” Snape instructed as he walked past. “It does not lie in a precise incantation of the words in your mind, but also the feeling of protection itself,”

Your eyebrows furrowed a moment then you poised. Draco raised his wand, ready to attack you with a Tripping Spell again, but as he cast it, the spell bounced harmlessly off of you and hit Weasley. A smile spread across your face when you realized what you had accomplished.

“Oi,”

And there went that happy moment. Harry stalked up to you and Draco was very close to sending a Tripping Spell at him.

“Hello Harry,” Your voice was calm, pleasant as you paid him no mind, offering your hand to Weasley, helping him up. “Sorry Ron, I guess I figured it out huh?” Your smile was dazzling and sweet and Ron gaped at you.

“How?” Ron asked.

“She’s cheating,” Harry snapped.

You gaped at him.

“Oh, come on really, Harry,” Hermione butted in as Draco strode to your side, his blue eyes meeting cold green ones. “Does that mean I’m cheating as well?”

Draco held a faint memory that you mentioned Hermione defending you against Harry’s remarks while DA was still active. He presumed that didn’t change either.

“Is there an issue?” Snape came towards the small group of students.

“No sir,” You smiled at the Professor. “I accidentally deflected the jinx and it hit Ron.” 

“It was no accident,” Harry muttered.

Snape turned to Harry, glowering. “And perhaps you have an inkling of how Miss Y/l/n preformed a nonverbal spell? Since you seem to think she did it maliciously, you ought to know exactly how it works then?”

“No,” said Harry stiffly.

“No, sir.”

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.”

 _________________________

My eyes widened in shock at the words that escaped Harry’s lips. I could feel the tension grow in the room as Snape’s glare amplified at Harry. I still couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.

“Detention, Saturday night, my office,” said Snape. “I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter . . . not even ‘the Chosen One.’”

The professor was relatively calm for the situation. Draco, on the other hand, I had to grab his hand and give him a soft look. Going off on Harry in front of a bunch of witnesses was not the best situation to get ourselves into.

“So, how did you do it?” Draco asked as we left the room, class having gotten out.

“I... well,” My cheeks flushed slightly. “I thought about how safe I feel when I’m with you... that night after the tournament... or in the prefect baths after my first detention... that night...”

“Oh,” Draco had turned the same shade of red that I was, and I grinned at him.

We met up with Abby and Pansy as we went to sit at the Hufflepuff table, where the rest of our friends were. Pansy was griping about Ancient Runes homework despite it being the first day and I wasn’t looking forward to the work that Snape had assigned this morning either, but since N.E.W.T classes were only a few times a week, it left the lot of us with more free time to do the work.

Draco and I poured into our homework during our free hour before lunch, and since we had been studying Dark Magic among other things over the summer, it was unintentionally easier that it probably should have been. I intertwined my fingers with his.

“We’re gonna get through this,” Laying my head on his shoulder, I sighed softly. “We’re going to succeed. We’re going to be okay,”

He didn’t say anything, but his thumb stroked the back of my hand. It came time that we parted ways: Draco had double Potions and I had Herbology.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I smiled pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Especially with Potter in that class.” A pause, “I love you,”

“As I love you,” He whispered softly.

I hated watching him go, knowing that Slughorn was teaching Potions and that Harry was in his class. I worried more with each step that we were apart. It was true, we had maybe a week or two until we really had to start our plan and I wanted Draco to try and enjoy the career path of Auror in his N.E.W.T.s until then.

Walking into the greenhouses I saw the two other students composing this section of N.E.W.T. Herbology: Luna and Neville. I shed my robes and picked up a pair of dragonhide gloves. Even though it was the first day, Sprout had bowtruckles out on the desks. Steve seemed to remember me from the year prior and crawled back up on my arm. I took a seat next to Luna and Neville, who were interacting with their own bowtruckles.

They both smiled at me as I took out my notebook filled with my previous years notes from Herbology. It was getting to the point that my torn up, abused notebook was becoming more accurate than Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

“So, you and Malfoy?” Neville asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“Yeah,” I nodded, a tight smile on my lips and looked around anxiously. “Look, I know you two aren’t his biggest fans... but—”

“It’s important that we unite for the sake of the defeat of You-Know-Who,” Luna finished the words I couldn’t bring myself to say. “The Sorting Hat has been saying it for years... you’d think that someone would listen,”

“Harry’s got everyone thinking that Malfoy is some sort of Death Eater,” Neville confessed, and I froze momentarily before recovering.

“That self-righteous prat,” I muttered. “It never ends does it? Between those two? Even Draco is ridiculous about it,” I couldn’t help but laugh as the other two joined in. I sighed softly and shook my head, setting Steve down on the table.

“You know, they’re a lot more alike than they care to admit,” Luna said absentmindedly.

Neville and I were both about to refute the point when it seemed we both paused and considered her words. Was Draco similar to Harry? Yes. That was the simple answer. They were very alike, but on different sides of the same war. Two boys forced into legacies set by their parents and those around them. Powerful young wizards who no doubt just wanted to run away from it all.

“I never thought about it like that,” Neville whispered softly. “Makes Draco seem less...” 

“And Harry a bit more...” I tacked on.

Sprout allowed us to interact and study the bowtruckles for the double hour of Herbology as she went over a rough outline for the year course and what we should expect on our finals. I left a few minutes early and rushed to the Potions class before it got out, meeting Draco at the door.

“Well? How’d it go?” I asked expectantly.

“Ask Potter,” He snapped, storming off.

My eyes met Harry’s and we were at a sort of standoff, until I remembered what Luna had said. The one I loved and the Chosen One were a bit more alike than I cared to admit. It softened my glare and allowed Slughorn to catch me in the hall.

“Miss Y/n!” He said merrily. “I missed you on the train, my dear!”

“Apologies,” I offered with a slightly smile. “I was otherwise occupied.”

“No doubt telling Malfoy how pretty he is,” Harry sneered.

“Careful Harry,” I said coolly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were harboring a crush there yourself after my boyfriend,”

Well that shut Harry up. I smiled victoriously, watching the Chosen One turn a shade of bright red in anger as Ron and Hermione tried to hold him back.

“Boyfriend?” Slughorn mused. “I hope I didn’t offend either of you by not extending my invitation to Mr. Malfoy,”

“Not at all,” I smiled kindly—a false smile, “But I’m afraid that I will have to decline your invitation. I’m a firm believer that we are not our parents, who we know, nor what is expected of us.” I bore down green eyes as I said the words. “And I’m afraid I cannot join a club based on that premise,”

“Fire in this one, eh?” Slughorn chuckled looking to Harry. “As you wish my dear,”

“Professor,” I nodded. “Hermione, Ron... Harry,”

I turned and raced down the hall, after Draco who caught me on the first corner and pressed his lips to mine fiercely, easily pinning me against the wall.

“I bloody love you,” Draco breathed out in between kisses.

His hands trailed down my sides and to my waist as my hands got lost in his hair, dislodging the silky hair from the carefully styled gel. His breath was hot as it mingled with mine, his tongue gaining dominance easily. I held back a soft moan and pulled away, panting.

“Who knew that all I had to do to get you to kiss me like this was snark at Potter?” I drawled, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips.

“Oh, you have no idea the things I want to do to you,” He muttered darkly, pressing his lips to my neck. “But only when you’re safe,”

A small smile found its way to my lips as I pulled him away softly, stroking his cheek. “I love you Draco,” My eyes met crystal blue ones.

“As I love you,” He pressed a kiss to my forehead as we made our way to the Great Hall for dinner.

Later that night, we were lounging together in the Hufflepuff common room—along with Abby and Pansy, but these days we were hardly seen without each other.

“Luna said something in class today,” I mused aloud, pausing from my bowtruckle sketch,

“When doesn’t she?” Draco muttered, reading up on his Potions textbook for tomorrow, I nudged him playfully.

“She said that you and Harry might be more alike than any of us care to admit.”

I heard his quill snap and watched the ink splatter over his paper. I quickly snapped my finger and the Cleaning Spell did its magic.

“What?” He hissed. “Me? Similar to Potter? Are you daft?”

My eyes dropped as I gritted my teeth. Draco seemed to find himself. Taking a deep breath, he reached out, placing his hand on my forearm.

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me, I apologize,” His voice was soft and broken. “Please,” 

“Never mind,” I whispered. “It’s... it’s nothing.”

“Y/n,” He called softly, tilting my chin so that I was staring into his deep blue eyes. “I’m very sorry I snapped at you. Please tell me?”

Oh, it was not fair that he could do that to me.

“You’re both... forced into roles you don’t want to play—don’t give me that look, I don’t think Harry wants to save the world anymore that you want to...” I shrugged and set down my quill. “I’m sure he just wants to run away too. I can only imagine... he’s lost his parents... Sirius...”

“He’s got Weasley,” Pansy pointed out, butting into our conversation. “And Granger, and always has. Everywhere they go, they shine. ‘The Golden Trio.’ Remember first year? Slytherin had won house cup until those three showed up? Dumbledore had days to award the points, but he had to wait until the Feast.”

Draco and I both flinched at the name. But I remembered that day well, I was so upset on behalf of the Slytherins, because even though at that time I was terrified of most of them, it really wasn’t fair.

“But can we blame Harry for that? I mean stuff sort of just does happen to him,” Abby refuted.

“Stuff happens to everybody,” Pansy snapped back. “Doesn’t give him a free pass to be a prat all the time,”

The two argued at my focus shifted to Draco, who had gone quiet beside me. His gaze let me know that he was lost in thought, in a different world that wasn’t the one around him. I nudged his shoulder and blue eyes found mine.

“Maybe there was something... once.” He admitted. “But...”

“You’ve changed,” I smiled. “Harry is still a git,”

“Are you saying I was a git?” He mocked offense.

“You were the king of the gits,” I teased. “You used to be so mean to me!” I was almost laughing as he blushed and looked down.

“I was mean to everyone,” He chuckled, pulling me into his lap. “Remember you yelled at me? ‘I have every reason to hate you, but I refuse’,” Draco smiled down at me. “You were something else. Sometimes I wonder if you really are a Hufflepuff when you act like such a Gryffindor,”

“Take that back!” I laughed, slapping his chest. “I am not a Gryffindor!”

“I don’t know Feathers,” Abby drawled. “You’ve got to be stupid brave to take on a Malfoy,”

“I’m not the one whose Patronus is a lion,” I refuted looking up to Draco, who burst out laughing.

“Wait!” Pansy nearly screeched. “Your Patronus is a bloody lion!? What the hell are you doing to him Y/n!? Stop contaminating my Slytherin!” She was laughing, nothing behind her threats.

I could feel my face flushing as I hid in Draco’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his body shaking with laughter under me. Something I didn’t know that I missed. It was almost easy, wrapped up in Draco’s arms, laughing with our friends, to forget that we had something much darker lurking underneath.

A week passed as we settled into our classes. Neville had warmed up to me in Herbology and no longer stammered when I tried to talk to him, which was nice. Draco still sulked a bit after double Potions, but it was easy to bring his smile back.

Until Slughorn caught me after meeting with Draco the following Friday.

“My dear Y/n! Just the girl I was hoping to see!” he boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his walrus mustache and puffing out his enormous belly. “I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We’re having a little party, just a few rising stars, I’ve got McLaggen coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin—I don’t know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries—and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Bones will favor me by coming too.”

It was like Draco wasn’t standing right next to me; Slughorn did not so much as look at him.

“Apologies, professor,” I hissed. “But I think I’ve made it clear that I am not interested in your Slug Club. If you’ll excuse us,” My voice dripped acid as I took Draco’s hand and led him down the hall, seething.

“Love, if you want to go to these meetings, don’t let me be the one to stop you,” Draco sounded crestfallen as he pulled me to a stop. “You’re going to go amazing things with your future, don’t... don’t give that up for me,”

I reached up and stroked his cheek softly.

“My future wouldn’t be complete without you in it.” I smiled softly. “And I know I’ve got the shoes and the dresses to be a Malfoy, but I really am happy to settle down, without a sickle in my pocket, if it meant I could have you. Slughorn be damned,”

Draco rolled his eyes and smiled.

 __________________________________

He got a letter from his mother that evening and it seemed like whatever defense you had against Harry faded. The Evening Prophet read that the Manor had been searched for Dark Magic and cursed objects because of an “anonymous tip” to Arthur Weasley.

“That Potter!” You snarled, after hearing that Narcissa had been given much trouble about your room at the Manor because of its heavy enchantments. “He has no idea what we’re up against and he thinks he can just accuse who he wants!”

“He’s right though,” Draco sighed softly. “He was right all along to suspect me,”

Your mood softened as you took the paper and letter from his hands, tossing them onto his desk. You didn’t say anything, and perhaps there wasn’t anything to say as you sat beside him on the bed. Again, he wondered where your soft plea for him was to not do this. To stop his trial because it was wrong. It didn’t come, though.

You and Draco found yourselves every Friday night from then on in The Room of Hidden Things, searching for the other vanishing cabinet. After some persuading, he allowed you to fly as Pinnae around the large room as he meandered the mountains of rubbish.

“Draco!” You called, and he ran towards the sound of your voice.

When he caught sight of you, he also caught sight of your target. He almost sagged in relief. He had become disheartened over the past few weeks, and without your gentle reminders that your plan would work, and that you had allotted months to spare in planning and fine tuning, he might have done something rash.

“I don’t see why we can’t just send him a cursed object or something,” He huffed one night, slamming another book closed. “It’s not like it’ll be hard.”

“Draco,” You sighed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt, on the slight chance that it falls into the wrong hands,”

Your gaze dropped to the table and he was sure that you were finally about to give a spiel about not wanting to do the trial in the first place, and that he should stop attempting, but it didn’t come. What he had to do was wrong and you weren’t refuting it at all. It made him anxious.

Now that everything had been planned out—rather flawlessly between the two of you—it almost seemed surreal to him. Not like Dumbledore had been at the school much anyway. Draco rarely saw him in the Great Hall during meals, and he avoided eye contact at all costs either way.

Draco lounged across his bed—that was more of a nest since you had a habit of finding your way into it most nights—as you came in through the window morphing from Pinnae. In your routine, you slipped off your shoes and grabbed the sweater and sweats he had laid out for you and you went to change in his small bathroom. When you no longer looked a Malfoy, but yourself, you draped over him on the bed.

“So, Hogsmeade tomorrow,” You grinned, excitement in your eyes. “Are you ready?”

“I’m not going,” He didn’t look up from his book, not wanting to see your reaction. Dread settled in his chest at this conversation.

“Why not?” You almost pouted. “We deserve a little fun Dray,” 

“You can go,”

“Draco,” You chided, sitting up. “Since when do you not want to go out with me?” The frown and pout of your lip had Draco running a hand through his hair, nervously.

“I can’t go,” He admitted. “I... I have detention,” Draco didn’t dare to meet your eyes.

“Detention?” Your tone held an anxious note. “What...? why? With who?”

He grimaced. “McGonagall. I... I failed two of her quizzes,”

You went quiet for an agonizing half a minute that dragged on forever. After a full minute he looked up at you and deep concentration was written in your features.

“What are you thinking about?” He mused, pulling you into his arms, trying to shove down the ashamed feeling that kept bubbling in his chest.

“Well,” You teetered your head. “How quickly I can get detention before tomorrow,” A small smile found your lips. “And wondering if Hermione would want to tutor you if I asked her...”

“I don’t need a tutor,” He snapped, defensive, but you saw right through his front.

“Alright,” You soothed, rubbing his shoulder. “You know it is okay to struggle in class, right? Talent has to run out somewhere and the skill and practice has to pick up, and if that’s now, that’s perfectly okay.”

His gaze dropped as your words sank in. Was this the tipping point where he couldn’t rely on his pureblood status any longer and would have to work to be good at magic? Something that always came easily to him? The thought scared him more than the thought of failing a quiz or serving detention.

“We don’t have time for me to start to fail now,” His worry left his lips. “I can’t start failing now,”

Your fingers came and cupped his face, stroking his cheek.

“You’re not failing,” The words were soft like the look in your eyes. “McGonagall allows everyone to retake exams and quizzes for full credit and normally her detentions are just one on one time with her so that she can help you,”

“How do you know?” He mumbled miserably.

“Because I was failing in Transfiguration fourth year and she did the same for me.”

“Never told me that,”

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Do you want me to ask Hermione if she’ll tutor you? I can ask Luna if you’d prefer.” You asked again, your voice silky soft.

“You could tutor me,”

“And we’d get nothing done because we’d end up snogging all night,” You pointed out with a laugh. “Don’t think I didn’t think about it,”

“So, you think about snogging me all night?” A familiar smirk found his lips.

“I think about a lot of things to do with you at night,” You drawled, just as mischievous. “But...” Sadness replaced the mischief.

“Not until we’re safe,” Draco offered.

“Not even that,” You confessed. “I’ve been reading old papers and rumors and such, and a lot of Death Eaters are skilled in Legilimency, your aunt in particular and the Dark Lord even more so...” A pause. “And I don’t want those moments to belong to anyone but us... and unless you feel like becoming skilled in Occlumency to a degree to defy You-Know-Who in the meantime...”

Draco nodded and pulled you to his chest, rubbing your back softly. 

“I love you,” He pressed a kiss to the top of your hair.

“I love you too,” You whispered into his shoulder.

The next morning you took off with a quick kiss, flying back to your dorm before anyone would catch you. He dressed, trudging off to McGonagall’s office, not looking forward to the next few hours at all.

“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall greeted politely.

“Professor,” He sighed and held his head high, your words comforting him.

It was okay to struggle. He wasn’t failing, he just had to learn. He could do that. He could learn. He could do this... right?

“Now, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall began, “I know that you’ve been doing quite well in class and you’ve been completing your homework in a timely manner. I’m curious as to why you missed out on these quizzes,”

Draco looked down and wished that you were beside him to say the words he never could. You were brave that way, never afraid to admit when you needed help or confess what was wrong.

“As you are aware, I allow all students to make up quizzes for full marks if they can perform the spells and recite the information to me after they have reviewed the information. That is the purpose of these next hours,”

Even though you had told him all of this the night before, there was still a comfort to it coming from the Professor’s mouth. He could do this. He wanted to get better and now he had the whole afternoon and one on one time with McGonagall to get back up to par. As McGonagall began to go over and ask him questions about the spells that had been studied and the methods behind them, he knew almost all of the answers—to both of their surprises, though neither showed it. And when she asked him to transform a kettle into a rabbit, he performed the spell correctly on the first try. McGonagall smiled.

“Draco,” She caught his attention with the use of his first name. “I believe that you are quite skilled in Transfiguration. Consider both of your quizzes to have full marks,”

“But Professor,” He stammered. “I... I don’t understand why I can do it now. And why I couldn’t do it then,”

The smile warmed on the professor’s face, meeting her eyes.

“Some students, Miss Y/n included as I’m sure you’re aware, have testing anxiety. They know all of the information, and can perform quite well, but when faced with the threat of an exam or a grade, they lose focus. It stems from a need of perfectionism, and I assure you, you are not the first Slytherin with the issue.”

Draco nodded.

“Now, I cannot be certain that it is the case with you, I also know that not all students should be measured by what they can write on a piece of paper or recall on a moment notice. You are a gifted wizard Mr. Malfoy, and I do not want you to doubt that, nor do I want you to be confined by a standardized exam.” McGonagall looked over her glasses at him. “If you wish, we can continue these sessions instead of examinations for you, or if you wish, you can attempt my written quizzes again if you feel confident,”

The words sunk into Draco’s mind as he processed what he was being told. He never expected the kind gestured offered to him by McGonagall for a number of reasons and it baffled him. Yet, there was a comfort in it. Maybe he wasn’t failing after all, he just didn’t test well. That was more of a relief than the better quiz grade.

“I think I’d rather do this,” He confessed.

“Very well, every time there is a quiz or exam, you do not have to show to class, but I expect you here the Saturday afterward.”

“Yes Professor,” McGonagall smiled again.

“It’s not too late to head down to Hogsmeade if you so wish Mr. Malfoy, I am done with you for today,” She ordered some papers on her desk. “I’m sure Feathers will be quite happy to get out today,”

He stared at the professor who had a mischievous look in her eye. Gathering his things, he thanked McGonagall again and headed down the hall, where you were more or less patiently waiting.

“Well?” You looked at him expectantly.

“Does McGonagall know about Pinnae?” He asked, distracted and distressed.

“Yes? I thought you knew that. She and Sprout are the ones who helped me,” You took his hand as the two of you walked down the hall. “But that’s beside the point, how did it go?”

“Well, she thinks that I have testing anxiety,” Draco gave. “And that I’m not slipping behind like I thought,”

“That’s great!” You beamed. “Well not the anxiety, I know that sucks, but ya know,” Your smile was contagious as you turned down the hall, towards the dorms.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“Uh? The dorms?”

“Did you not want to go to Hogsmeade then?”

Your eyes lit up as you grabbed his hand and all but dragged him down to the small village. Though Hogwarts students milled around the small town, it didn’t hold the same air of magic as it once did. Zonko’s had been boarded up and closed and though most of the other shops were opened, something seemed to be off.

You noticed it, as you clung to his arm, your smile becoming a bit more forced. The sun was hidden by October clouds that threatened to rain any moment. Sensing your distress, Draco quickly ushered you into The Three Broomsticks, where you nearly knocked over Harry.

“Sorry,” You rushed out, offering your hand, even after you realized who you had jostled.

Harry ignored your offer and got up on his own, glaring you down. Draco tucked you to his side, his gaze becoming cold and dangerous.

“Watch where you’re going Y/l/n,” Harry snapped.

“She apologized Harry,” Hermione tugged on Harry’s shoulder. “Now come on, you’re being ridiculous,”

“Me? She’s the one who’s kidding herself,” Harry muttered as he stormed out of the small pub. 

___________________________

Hermione gave me an apologetic look, and so did Ron before they followed out after Harry. Draco took a step towards the door, no doubt to go after Harry for a different reason, but I grabbed his hand.

“It’s not worth it,” I murmured.

“Y/n,” He protested. “He can’t just... treat you that way and think that it’s okay,” There was a fire in his eyes.

“He can be wrong, Draco.” I smiled softly. “I know who I am,”

After sulking a moment, Draco gave in and led me to a table in the corner of the small bar, ordering two teas for us. I had a feeling that I just stopped the war from prematurely starting. We had about a moment of peace before there was screaming coming from outside. Both Draco and I rose abruptly, our drinks forgotten, as we hurried outside.

The Golden Trio and another Gryffindor were all standing over a screaming girl who was thrashing about. Draco and I took off running towards then, wands out, ready for anything. Harry rushed off towards the school as we got there.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“I—I don’t know,” The other girl sobbed.

“She’s been cursed,” Draco stooped beside me, his eyes taking in Katie’s writhing form. “Sorry love,” He muttered quickly, and for the moment, I thought the worst before he reached out and snagged my locket from around my neck. I watched as he, with quick and steady hands, placed the necklace around Katie’s neck, who promptly stopped screaming, and it looked as if she was sleeping.

We were all gawking at him when Harry came back with Hagrid.

“You!” Harry threw the accusation. “You did this to her! You slimy little—”

“Harry, he just saved her!” Hermione stood, looking quite dangerous herself. “Now come off this stupid feud!”

“Hagrid, that’s not going to hold long,” Draco spoke urgently, looking at my locket that was draped around the unconscious girl’s neck. “She needs to get to Pomfrey, or Snape.”

Harry looked baffled as Hagrid lifted Katie into his arms and rushed off towards the castle. Hermione hurried over to Katie’s wailing friend and put an arm around her.

“It’s Leanne, isn’t it?” She asked softly. The girl nodded.

“Did it just happen all of a sudden, or—?”

“It was when that package tore,” sobbed Leanne, pointing at the now sodden brown-paper package on the ground, which had split open to reveal a greenish glitter. Ron bent down, his hand outstretched, but Harry seized his arm and pulled him back.

“Don’t touch it!” Harry, Draco, and I all shouted.

Harry crouched down. An ornate opal necklace was visible, poking out of the paper.

“I’ve seen that before,” Draco bent down beside Harry their opposition momentarily forgotten, staring at the thing. “It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed. Katie must have touched it.” He looked up at Leanne, who had started to shake uncontrollably. “How did Katie get hold of this?”

“Well, that’s why we were arguing. She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it... Oh no, oh no, I bet she’d been Imperiused and I didn’t realize!”

Leanne shook with renewed sobs. Hermione patted her shoulder gently. I shrugged off my cloak and draped it around the crying girl’s shoulders, holding her with Hermione.

“She didn’t say who’d given it to her, Leanne?” Harry asked.

“No... she wouldn’t tell me... and I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to school, but she just wouldn’t listen and... and then I tried to grab it from her...and — and —” Leanne let out a wail of despair.

“It’s alright sweetheart,” I soothed softly, rubbing her arm. “She’s going to be okay,”

“We’d better get up to school,” said Hermione, her arm still around Leanne. “We’ll be able to find out how she is. Come on...”

My eyes met Draco’s and he nodded, standing, coming to my side. There were thousands of questions in my eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and draped his own cloak around me, the biting wind whipping around us. I wanted to protest. I wasn’t cold, but I knew Draco would be.

Harry hesitated for a moment, watching our interaction, then pulled his scarf from around his face and, ignoring Ron’s gasp, carefully covered the necklace in it and picked it up.

“We’ll need to show this to Madam Pomfrey,” he said.

Harry and Ron trailed behind Hermione and Leanne, the two whispering in harsh tones to each other. Draco held out his hand and I took it, following.

“I—I’m uh, sorry, about not telling you about your locket,” Draco fumbled out, as if I were going to yell at him.

“You’re apologizing to me for giving me a locket that has been protecting me all this time?” I laughed and looked up at him. “Come on Dray, that was the sweetest thing I think you’ve ever done,”

There was a blush on his cheeks as he smiled at the ground. As we entered the castle grounds it seems that whatever Ron and Harry were arguing about had become very heated. I heard both of our names brought up as Harry stole glances at us. My gaze dropped and Draco held me closer.

“McGonagall!” said Ron warningly, and we all looked up.

Sure enough, Professor McGonagall was hurrying down the stone steps through swirling sleet to meet them.

“Hagrid says you six saw what happened to Katie Bell—upstairs to my office at once, please! What’s that you’re holding, Potter?”

“It’s the thing she touched,” said Harry.

“Good lord,” said Professor McGonagall, looking alarmed as she took the necklace from Harry. “No, no, Filch, they’re with me!” she added hastily, as Filch came shuffling eagerly across the entrance hall holding his Secrecy Sensor aloft. “Take this necklace to Professor Snape at once, but be sure not to touch it, keep it wrapped in the scarf!”

We followed Professor McGonagall upstairs and into her office. The sleet-spattered windows were rattling in their frames, and the room was chilly despite the fire crackling in the grate. Professor McGonagall closed the door and swept around her desk to face to face us all. Leanne was still sobbing in Hermione’s arms.

“Well?” she said sharply. “What happened?”

Haltingly, and with many pauses while she attempted to control her crying, Leanne told Professor McGonagall how Katie had gone to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks and returned holding the unmarked package, how Katie had seemed a little odd, and how they had argued about the advisability of agreeing to deliver unknown objects, the argument culminating in the tussle over the parcel, which tore open. At this point, Leanne was so overcome, there was no getting another word out of her.

“All right,” said Professor McGonagall, not unkindly, “go up to the hospital wing, please, Leanne, and get Madam Pomfrey to give you something for shock.”

When she had left the room, Professor McGonagall turned back to us. “What happened when Katie touched the necklace?”

“She rose up in the air,” said Harry, before either Ron or Hermione could speak, “and then began to scream, and collapsed. Professor, can I see Professor Dumbledore, please?”

Draco gripped my hand a little tighter at the mention of his name. I leaned against him comfortingly.

“The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, looking surprised. 

“Away?” Harry repeated angrily.

“Yes, Potter, away!” said Professor McGonagall tartly. “But anything you have to say about this horrible business can be said to me, I’m sure!”

There was a standoff between Harry and McGonagall that had me averting my eyes at the sheer determination between the both of them. Harry gave in and scoffed, crossing his arms rather childishly. McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“And then I assume that you two arrived?” McGonagall turned to Draco and I.

“Yes,” Draco answered coolly. “We were in the Three Broomsticks and heard the screaming.” 

“Did you two happen to see who gave Ms. Bell the package?”

“No ma’am,” I replied. “We were preoccupied with Harry,” My voice was calm and slightly accusatory. “Katie had left before we entered.”

“And I hear that you held a very powerful talisman Miss Y/n,” McGonagall raised her eyebrows. “Can I ask where you might have gotten such an artifact?”

“It was a gift,” I clarified. “From Draco,” 

Harry scoffed again, but I paid him no mind. 

“And where did you get your hands on such a thing Mr. Malfoy?”

“It’s my own creation, Professor,” Draco’s cheeks were slightly pink at the awe and surprise that flitted across the faces in the room. Even Harry seem to sulk slightly less.

“I see,” McGonagall nodded. “Well, I can’t say for sure, but I do believe that you and Miss Y/n may have just saved Miss Bell’s life. And for that I award you each with fifty house points.”

“Professor, you don’t have to,” I protested. “A life is more valuable than house points,”

“Even so,” The professor smiled softly. “We will not forget what you have done,”

We both nodded and Hermione was smiling, and Ron wasn’t glaring at us, so I counted that as a semi-win. Harry still had his eyes narrowed at the two of us and I really wanted to confront him about what he was thinking, but McGonagall swept out of her office and toward the Hospital wing.

The tension grew between the five of us.

“Well?” I raised my eyebrow at Harry. “Let’s have it.” 

“Love,” Draco chided.

“No,” I retorted. “I’m tired of this. I’m tired of acting like it’s okay for Harry to treat you like this. You probably did just save Katie’s life and had nothing to do with this and I’m really sure that Harry is still trying to find a way to blame you,” I turned to Harry. “Aren’t you?”

Harry looked down, his cheeks going slightly red.

“And at this point I really don’t give a damn about who might be the Chosen One or who might be a Death Eater!” Both boys flinched. “There is a war coming, for all of us! And I don’t care how much you might hate each other or me! If we don’t do this together, we’re all going to die! And if you would stop acting so childish for thirty seconds maybe you could see that!”

I grabbed Draco’s hand before anyone could respond and dragged him out into the hall. There was an air of sadness in his eyes as he pulled me into a quiet corner. He rested on a windowsill. holding my waist to stop me from pacing.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered softly, leaning against him. “None of that was directed at you,”

He nodded, still not saying a word.

“I really am sorry,” I tried again.

“Will you stop apologizing,” He smiled up at me. “You said what needed to be said, although I do wish you hadn’t yelled about Death Eaters,”

“Sorry?” I offered, for a third time. 

“All is forgiven,” He smiled.

A quiet moment dragged between us.

“When did everything become so complicated?” I sighed, sitting in his lap as he wrapped his arms around me, keeping me balanced. The sleet assaulting the window behind us seemed to mock us both with its fury, but for the moment, we were safe from its danger.

We eventually drifted back to the Slytherin common room to escape the onslaught of the rain pounding the windows. Draco still had a knack for keeping me from foul weather.

I thought maybe the storm of the day had passed, until Snape swished into the Common Room requesting an audience with us both in his office promptly. Draco and I shared a look and followed the professor.

There was a familiarity about sitting in the professor’s gloomy office, holding Draco’s hand.

“McGonagall has informed me of your escapade today,” His voice sounded disinterested, but his eyes held a vote of urgency.

“Professor,” Draco began, only to be silenced by the raising of Snape’s hand.

“Neither of you are in trouble. But I must warn you to be more careful. Harry is very quick to accuse and has half of the world hanging onto his words. You two must be more cautious about what situations you find yourselves in if you wish to succeed.”

Snape spoke as if he knew what Draco and I were trying to accomplish, and maybe he did. Anxiety grew in my chest at that thought because with the more people who did know, there was a greater chance that something went wrong and there were too many variables at play. But if Snape did know, then he was very good about acting ignorant.

“And I believe these belong to you Miss Y/n,” Snape grabbed a bundle of silver from under his desk, and on top resided my necklace. “Well done with making quick use of the locket Mr. Malfoy. I have restored it to its original state.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, taking the objects and slipping my locket back on the weight comforting me.

“You are free to go,” He leaned back in his chair. “And do take care, he does not tolerate excuses,”

Our gaze fixed on the professor, gaping at him.

“Potter,” There was a sly smile on Snape’s lips as he lied easily. “Now off with you,”

It wasn’t until we were behind Draco’s locked dorm door that either of us said a word.

“Snape knows,” I breathed out, watching Draco pace the small room. My lethargic mood contrasted starkly against Draco’s.

“Who does he think he is!?” Draco seethed. “We’ve been doing just fine on our own! Now he acts like he cares!?”

“Draco, love,” I tried, only to get a cold look.

“No,” He said firmly. “We have been careful! I have been careful! Snape probably thinks that I sent the bloody necklace! He thinks of me as an ignorant child!”

He scattered the books off his desk. They landed with a crash to the floor. I pursed my lips and waited; my back pressed against his door. Draco stood at the windowsill, facing out, his hands clenched, white skin stretched over smooth bone as they rested against the chilled stone. I counted to sixty then took a careful step forward. A step towards him. With silent movements, I approached him, a gentle hand resting on his shaking shoulders. I could hear the muffled cries that tumbled from his lips. It had been a few weeks since his last panic attack. I hated to say that I awaited it. It had only been a matter of time.

I became his shadow, resting my chin on his shoulder and curling my arms around him, locking my fingers together. My breaths became deliberate, deep. It took a long while, but his shaking soothed and his breathing began to mimic mine. I reached down and smoothed out his fists, his fingers splaying out under mine. He turned, his eyes not meeting mine. I reached up and brushed the remaining tears on his face and began to unbutton his shirt, letting it fall from his shoulders.

It was a routine; he knew what was coming when I started to undress him. It wasn’t about sexual desire or want, but survival and comfort. That he could be completely bare before me—metaphorically and physically—and I still would never take advantage of him.

He allowed me to lead him into the small bathroom and start a warm shower. His hands came to my waist, pulling me back into his chest, his nose nestling into my hair. The warm water washed the chill and fear from our skin. Draco sat on the small counter, towels around us both, as I gently worked the white balm into his Mark, as I did every night before. I pressed a soft simple kiss to his lips, stroking his cheek. Still a word was not shared between us.

Curled up and surrounded by blankets and pillows, Draco’s eyes drifted closed.

 “I didn’t do it,” He murmured softly—brokenly. “I didn’t send the necklace,” 

“I know,” I ran a hand through his damp hair. “I know, my love.”

“I—I wouldn’t...” He stammered. “It... it was sloppy... I—I can’t risk your life by making—making a mistake like that,” There were tears in his eyes again.

I nodded and held him tighter, fighting back my own tears.

“I just need you to live,” He sniffed. “Whatever happens I need you to live,”

“Draco,” My voice broke as I tilted his chin up. His blue eyes held a hopeless brokenness to them. “I need you to live too. I can’t live without you. I wouldn’t make it,” I squeezed my eyes shut. “You claim that I’m pure, that I’m good, but Draco without you, I wouldn’t have a reason strong enough to keep fighting to stay that way,”

His hands came up and tangled themselves in my hair as he pressed his forehead to mine, our faces inches apart as we both cried, believing that the other was worth more that the life it had saved in that moment.

________________________________

When October turned to November and rain turned to snow, Draco had fallen back into a routine with you. Survive the week, eat meals with you, smile just enough, then curl up with you at night and feel free from the world around him. Draco couldn’t deny because of this year at Hogwarts a bitterness grew in his heart towards the school. Almost everything that he had loved about Hogwarts had been lost to him. He had given up being a prefect, and Quidditch. Potions was no longer fun because of Slughorn, who really had it out for him. Harry was almost impossible to deal with and though he rarely spoke a word to Draco in class, he could feel the accusations being hurled at him from the Gryffindor in his mind.

The only comfort, that led to deeper guilt, was that he and you were making a lot of progress with the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things. It was a slow process that required heavy Dark Magic, but between the two of you, it was getting done. A comfort came as well, when Pansy and Abby came to you two, demanding that—though they knew that you couldn’t say what was going on—they wanted to help whenever and however they could. That meant the couple could patrol the halls while he and you worked on the cabinet, having a perfect cover as prefects.

You still amazed him, however. Despite everything, you were still working to unite at least the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs, and with the help of your (and his) friends it seemed to work.

Slytherin hostility had been almost non-existent against the Hufflepuffs, and some Ravenclaws. Something else was to be said about the Gryffindors, but Draco figured there were some things that would never change. To be fair, if you had come to him, when he was a first or second year and told him to knock off the teasing and rude comments to other students, he would have listened, because you were downright terrifying sometimes. A perfect mix of beautiful and dangerous.

“I know you don’t really like him,” You began one night as you both sat under the stars of the Astronomy Tower. “But Slughorn invited me to his Christmas party. Abby and Pansy are going... and I’m allowed to bring someone...”

“Slughorn?” Draco mused, fiddling with a strand of your hair. “I thought you didn’t want to be a part of his little club?”

“And I don’t,” You reaffirmed, shifting so that you were facing him. “But it might be a bit of fun?”

“That’s what you said about Hogsmeade,” He pointed out, enjoying that you were annoyed more than he should.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Well fine, then we won’t go,” You snapped, crossing your arms, dislodging your hand from his.

A smile played at his lips as he pulled you into his lap.

“If you want to go to Slughorn’s little party and take me with you, I’ll go,” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “And I’ll even behave,”

You snorted.

“And if Harry is there?” You raised an eyebrow, the beautiful smile back on your face.

“I seem to remember that you were the one who went off on him last,” Draco teased, smirking. “And I can handle Potter, easily,”

“Okay,” Your smile grew more genuine. “Then we’ll go,”

With Slughorn’s party came the promise of the end of the semester and home. You had put your foot down a few weeks ago that you and he were done working on the vanishing cabinet for the semester, even though it was almost finished.

“And we deserve a few Friday nights to ourselves and to our friends,” You had pointed out.

So, with the end of term, came this stupid party. Draco didn’t want to go in the slightest, after having Slughorn all semester, he was in no rush to spend more time with the man who fawned over precious Potter. But it made you smile, so he’d endure.

“Damn,” Pansy mutter from his side when she caught sight of you—dressed in the new robes you had gotten over the summer and look absolutely perfect in them. “And you’re sure you two are opened for a fun night with Abby and I?” Her question was all but innocent.

“Pansy, please,” Draco dismayed, growing rather warm.

“Just saying’ Malfoy. I love Abby but damn your girl has got it,” Pansy grinned. “Half the school talks about her, boys and girls.” There as a wicked look in her eyes, that made Draco very possessive.

You noticed when you met him at the bottom of the stairs, a questioning look in your eyes. 

“Nothing,” He offered a smile. “Just Pansy,”

“Nothing my ass,” Pansy snarked. “Draco he’s a little jealous that half the school wants to shag you,”

You mouth popped open in surprise as Draco hissed at Pansy, who was laughing along with Abby. You turned a deep shade of red, almost matching the crimson on your lips.

“Oh, don’t tell me that you don’t know!” Pansy feigned dismay. “Seriously, what do you two do all day?”

You and Draco fumbled for answers as Pansy shook her head, pulling Abby down the hall as you two followed meekly.

“You do look lovely tonight,” Draco stammered. 

“Thank you,” You sounded just as embarrassed.

There was a crowd around Slughorn’s office—students who hadn’t been invited, and if it weren’t for you, he’d be a part of that crowd.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn’s office was much larger than the usual teacher’s study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables.

“I do wish they wouldn’t use house-elves like this,” Your lips pressed into a tight line. 

“It’s their job, love,” Draco cooed softly, to appease you.

“I doubt they’re getting paid,” You muttered back.

“Miss Y/n! I am so glad to see you here after all those diligent invitations. I knew I could wear you down,” Slughorn grinned, giving Draco an uneasy feeling and he began to wonder if you truly wanted to be here, or if you had just said yes to stop the constant harassment from the professor.

“Delighted professor,” Your forced smiled let him know that it might be the latter.

Of course, you wouldn’t want to come. How had he missed that? You hated parties and loud places and tons of people. Draco was starting to feel very stupid for not thinking about this for more than a few moments. He almost wanted to leave now.

As soon as Harry walked through the door, Slughorn’s attention was off you and Draco was actually grateful because he could see your demeanor crumbling. He ushered you off to the quieter outskirts of the party.

“Do you want to go?” Draco asked in a hushed tone. “We made an appearance, we can leave now,”

“Look I know you don’t like Harry but—”

“Forget about me,” He snapped. “You don’t want to be here, do you? I’m so sorry I didn’t think about it,”

You look softened and your mask fell for a moment.

“I... It’s not so bad,” You decided, looking around. “And I know you want to be here,”

“I thought I said forget about me,” Draco tilted your chin up. “Right now, I want to know what you want to do,”

Your eyes scanned the crowd as you bit your lip. If it had been any other situation, he would have simply gone mad with how you looked right now including your lip worrying, but there were more pressing matters.

“I’m okay,” You decided, smiling—a real smile. “I... It’s not as bad as it used to be,” You admitted.

Draco studied you a moment more, then nodded, leading you back out into the fray. It came to a point that Hermione bumped into him. He caught her arm before she could fall completely and you turned, seeing that the commotion was.

“Oh, Hermione,” You smiled. “You look lovely,”

“So, do you, goodness Y/n, those are very nice robes,” Hermione gaped a moment before remembering herself. “If you’ll excuse me,”

“Wait,” You grabbed her hand. “I heard you were going out with McLaggen, whatever happened to Ron?”

“He’s with Lavender,” She said stiffly. “Now please, I have to go before he finds me again,” She said distressed.

“Granger likes Weasley?” Draco mused.

“They have first names,” You chided softly. “And I think they do like each other, they’re just not too sure of how to show it,” You shrugged. “Nothing for me to fret about.” Your smile returned.

After a while, Draco fell into his normal schmoozing routine that he was accustomed to, and now you were as well. Even though he held a powerful family name, all eyes were on you tonight. It reminded him of one of those fairytales you had read to him... Cinderella maybe? He’d have to ask you later. And though Draco wanted to sulk that you were getting more attention than him, like he would have years ago, something felt right about this. You were an amazing witch with— apparently—a well-known father and skills beyond your grade level. You deserved to be praised, after everything you had accomplished, he was proud of you too.

“Oh, Draco.” An airy voice caught his attention. “Y/n mentioned coming here tonight. I never thought she would though,” He turned to see Luna Lovegood staring at him. “She doesn’t like Slughorn much, though I suppose she could just be defending you.”

“Luna,” He greeted softly, drawing your attention as well.

“Luna!” You said excitedly, drawing the other witch into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Harry invited me. We came as friends.” Luna lit up as the words fell from her mouth.

“And Neville is okay with that?” You stopped short—Draco wondered how you seemed to know all of the relationship gossip in the school.

“I don’t think he knows. Harry only just asked me today,” Luna looked off into the distance. “Would he be upset?”

“Luna, the poor guy's head over heels for you,” You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully. “I think you should go talk to him when this madness is done,”

“Suppose you’re right. You always know just what to say Y/n. A fine Hufflepuff,” Luna smiled and hugged you once more, before heading off into the part goers.

“Do you just know everyone?” Draco teased lightly.

“Luna and I have class together,” You refuted. “And she’s a sweetheart, both her and Neville.” 

“Such a Hufflepuff,” He grinned, ducking away from the jab he knew was coming at him. 

“Better than Slytherin,” You snapped playfully.

“What’s better than a Slytherin?”

Pansy and Abby strolled up, along with Blaise and Greg, both couples looking quite cozy. Greg, for the first time since Draco had known him, looked rather cleaned up and poised next to Blaise—who always looked flawless—confident on his own rather than following orders.

“Pretty much anything,” Abby snickered.

“You’ll pay for that Bones,” Pansy hissed, sending a sharp teasing look towards her lover.

“I can’t say that I share your sentiment either, Miss Bones,”

Draco felt you tense as Slughorn join the group of friends, pressing further into his side. He held you close.

“Slytherin is a fine house. Filled with many rising stars, like Mr. Zabini here,” The round professor nodded to Blaise who was lost in a goblet of mead, looking like he didn’t particularly want to be the center of attention at this moment.

Draco caught the cold look that fell upon your face, and he had to admit that Pansy was right: you were dangerously stunning and if the world wasn’t going to hell in a handbasket, he’d preferably make sure that you and everyone else in the school know that he was the only one with the privilege to shag you.

“I think it’s time we go, Draco,” Your voice dripped ice daggers.

“Oh, my dear, don’t leave. It is Christmas after all, the more the merrier,” Slughorn slurred, not reading the discomfort among the group.

“There’s better company to keep,” You smiled sweetly.

You shared a look with Abby, who looked about to murder, same as you. He wondered what you had told Abby about Slughorn, and what in turn she had told you. Gauging the intensity of the look, it couldn’t be anything pleasant.

“Come on Pans,” Abby muttered. “Y/n’s right. Just a bunch of brown nosers with no talent,”

“And to think I expected more from you two,” Slughorn gripped.

“Shame,” You drawled. “The feeling is mutual. But don’t worry professor, I’m sure your precious Potter would love to entertain you,”

Draco couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips, Blaise and Greg joining.

“Merlin, Draco you really are rubbing off on her,” Blaise chuckled. “You’re one kickass Hufflepuff, Y/l/n,” He raised his glass towards you and disappeared into the crowd, pulling Greg with him.

He watched you and Abby share a short conversation in sign language before Abby took Pansy’s hand and lead her towards the exit. Draco followed their lead, trying to, as politely as possible, avoid the party goers who wanted to strike up a conversation.

“I can’t believe I actually went to that,” You muttered out in the hallway, using his arm as a support to take off your stilettos. “I can’t believe you didn’t talk me out of it,”

“I did try,” Draco smiled softly, taking your shoes from you, taking your hand. “And it wasn’t so bad,” He tried.

You thought a moment.

“I guess not. I did get to see you look quite dashing tonight. Almost makes up for not going to the Yule Ball fourth year,” The smile returned to your lips.

“I do recall inviting you to a Ball that summer,” Draco mused.

“Ah, yes. When you told me I wasn’t your type,” You grinned with a laugh.

“And I was so close to being free of that taunt,” Draco feigned dismay as he smiled down at you. “But I’ll admit it, I was wrong. You are exactly my type,”

You gasped mockingly, a hand coming dramatically over your heart.

“Did Draco Malfoy just admit that he was wrong?”

“Oh hush,” He rolled his eyes, thinking maybe the party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Epilogue:

“It is Christmas,” I murmured softly. “I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Y/n,” Draco stressed, coming up behind me, leaning against the desk I was sitting at.

“I know, I know. What she did was awful, and I wish I didn’t have to decide, but...” I sighed and leaned back in the chair, tilting my head back so that I could meet his eyes.

“It’s Christmas,” Draco sighed pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And you’re nothing if not forgiving,”

“Worked out for you didn’t it?” I smiled.

“Yes dear,” He chuckled. “I’ll go tell my mother that we should expect yours for dinner then.” He paused. “Actually, why don’t you do that? She’s not going to yell at you,”

I laughed and spun around in the desk chair.

“Afraid of your mother, are you?” I baited.

“Respect,” He clarified. “And she’s been a bit... since father has been gone,” I nodded and sighed, turning back to the written letter on the desk and sent it off via owl. “We’ll go tell her together then,” I stood, taking his hand.

. 

Chapter 8

.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18  @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522  @zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @okaydraco @the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing  @sunflowerxsadnessw  @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox @slothgirl22 @peachesandpinks @monimillion @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @wannabeskinny-thinspo 

[jungle321jungle]

How I Long For Things To Be Restored

When Logan begins going to the old house on the end of Wendon Way, he doesn’t expect to meet the little boy who also frequents there. Nor does he expect to learn the forgotten secrets of the home. 

Taglist: @hells-missing-a-goat @angels-and-dreams @ollyollyoxinfree @gattonero17 @chumo-cookie @dreaming-always @anxiety-ismy-name @mrbubbajones @janustheliar @hogwarts-my-love

Ao3 - Masterlist

~~~~

How I Long For Things To Be Restored

The old house on the end of Wendon Way had stood for what felt like eons. Not one in the sleepy town could recall when it had been lived in last- or someone had ever lived there at all. But regardless of the details, it had become an urban legend among all ages. For children it was a place to avoid due to rumors, teenagers were responsible for spreading the rumors to keep kids away from their spot, and some adults didn’t agree with the idea of trespassing and understandably worried about what could be going on, and finally were the adults who had been those teenagers and fueled such worries among their peers. 

There were unofficial customs and rules to the house on the end of Wendon Way, so when Logan had seen the young boy sitting on the back stairs to the home, he had been more than surprised. Kids shied away from the large looming home, they didn’t sit on the deck stairs attempting to pet birds. 

“You shouldn’t try to touch them,” Logan commented as he approached. “They could have a disease even if they don’t bite or something.”

The boy’s eyes didn’t meet his, in fact he didn't seem like he was listening at all. It wasn’t until he had moved closer causing the birds to fly away that the boy’s dark eyes met his. “Hello, would you mind moving slightly so I can walk by?”

The boy gave him a confused expression as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his patchwork jacket, but after a pause he stood up and moved out the way. 

“It’s going to rain soon,” Logan informed the boy as he walked past him outside into the backyard. “You should head home.”

“Then why are you here?” The boy replied. 

“I need to do something.”

“Like what?”

Logan didn’t reply as he made his way down the stairs ensuring he skipped the one he knew was deemed sketchy by the neighborhood. He walked into the backyard silently wondering not for the first time who maintained the grass back here, before he turned to look at the home. 

“What are you doing?” The boy asked him. Logan hadn’t heard him approach but he had come closer, but he still kept to a relatively safe distance. 

“I need to take some pictures,” Logan answered, turning and walking further away. 

“Why?”

“For a project.”

Logan walked a bit further and then he turned and nodded satisfied with his choice. When he did, he pulled out his phone to snap a few pictures. Satisfied he began to move to other spots in the backyard and take pictures in each spot. 

“That’s a lot of pictures,” the boy commented. 

Logan gave a slight nod, “I want to ensure I have enough. 

“But what are you gonna do with pictures?” 

“You ask a lot of questions don’t you?”

The boy’s head lowered as he looked at his feet and shuffled them, but he didn’t reply. 

“It’s not a bad quality,” Logan assured him as he felt a raindrop hit his skin. “But you also should not talk to strangers as much as you are.”

The boy looked up and gave Logan a look of thought before he spoke, “What's your name then?”

Logan raised an eyebrow amused, “My name is Logan. And yours?”

The little boy gave him a smile, “I’m not going to talk to strangers.”

~~~~

When Logan returned about a week later, the boy was also back. 

He had been sitting on the deck stairs once more, kicking his legs lazily as he stared up at the sky. Upon seeing him Logan had two thoughts. Firstly, he wondered why the kid had returned, and secondly he wondered why the boy’s clothes hadn’t changed. Previously Logan had tried not to focus on the boy’s clothing given he didn’t want to judge, but seeing him here twice in the same outfit was a bit strange. 

The clothes were too big for him, most likely hand me downs. And they appeared worn, his pants had a few holes in them in places other than the knee, as did his shirt, it seemed all patches had been placed on his jacket rather than other clothes. 

“Hi Logan,” the kid said, moving from his spot to let Logan by. “Are you taking more pictures?”

Logan shook his head as he descended the stairs. “Not quite. What are you doing here again?”

The question went unanswered, but Logan wouldn’t force him. Instead he found a seat in the grass and pulled out his sketchbook from his bag. He turned to the page he had started on at home to give it a frown, it was... decent. But then against he hadn’t been looking at the home itself so hopefully he could get a better sense of it now. 

“You never told me what you’re doing,” The boy stated. 

Logan gave a slight sigh as he reached in his bag for his pencils. “I'm updating the house. What it would look like if it wasn't the way it is now.”

“Why?”

“Last semester in school I had to do the same for a building on campus, but the whole time I was thinking about what this place would look like restored. And I have time this summer so I thought I would try. Last time I was here I took pictures of the front and the back. I’m going to work on those. And then next will come the sides, and then I’ll move indoors.”

“Are you going to do each room?”

“I suppose. So now you know why I’m coming here. Why are you?”

The boy gave him a shrug, “Why not?”

Logan silently wondered why he even bothered asking. 

~~~~

“You’ve been coming more often,” the boy noted. “You used to just come once a week but these past few times it’s been more.”

Logan didn’t respond until he had finished setting himself up in the old kitchen. “I’ve been more eager to work on this. And I don’t have a job anymore, so I have more time.”

“Were you fired?”

“No. What are you going to do this afternoon? Are you going to watch me or do something else?”

“I can do both,” the child replied, drawing a slight smile from Logan. 

“I suppose you can.” With nothing more to be said Logan began to play soft music on his phone and began to get to work on redesigning the kitchen. The boy didn’t bother him as usual, and as always he sat far enough away but he’d watch intently. Logan didn’t realize how intently he had been watching until at least an hour had passed and the boy spoke again. 

“What happened to your arm?”

Logan paused in his sketching and looked up to the dark eyes of the boy in confusion. 

“There’s a big bruise.”

As understanding set in, Logan pulled rolled his sleeves down, he must have pushed them up due to the heat without realizing it, but the kid was awaiting an answer he didn’t want to give. “Does it matter?”

“It looks like it hurts.”

“It does.”

“What happened?” 

Logan gave a light sigh, “That’s not a polite question to ask.”

“Was it a fight? Hmm no, you don’t look like you’d win fights.”

“Also not a polite thing to say.”

The boy gave a slight pout but he didn’t question further. 

~~~~

“Can I see the finished drawings? You never showed me.”

Logan looked up in surprise. He hadn’t seen the boy when entering the house, and he had just assumed that for once the boy was home. But it seemed he just hadn’t arrived yet. “In  a moment,” Logan told him. “I’m putting the finishing touches on the kitchen, you can see it after.”

“Which room will you do next?”

“I want to do the living room, but that one may take some work given its size, so maybe the dining room next. That one should be simple.”

“Are you gonna do the bathrooms too?”

“I think so. It would be wrong to redo everything else but them... Alright. Kitchen is done, would you like to see?”

The boy nodded eagerly, but his steps were so slow and cautious as he approached Logan. Logan laid out his sketchbook going to his first drawing and waited until the boy was close enough. He still stayed out of arm's reach, but he was close enough to see as Logan went through the pages. Each one had pictures of the original house taped to it, and then came Logan’s designs done in different colored pencils and pens with a million notes in his neat scrawl beside the many details. 

“How do you know how to do that?”

“I’m studying architecture,” Logan explained. “And last semester I took a class which focused both on restoration and redesign.”

“The walls are plain. And there’s no kitchen things,” the boy commented. 

“There is not,” Logan agreed. “Stoves, paint, cabinets, and all of that can be bought and changed, this can't be.”

“Yes it can. You’re doing it right now.”

Logan couldn’t exactly argue with that. “You think I need to put it in then?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m afraid interior design isn’t where my skills lie... oh I have an idea. Why don’t you pick them out?”

“Me?”

“You’re always here while I draw and you take an interest. Next time I’ll bring some magazines and scissors and you can cut out the ones you like. How about that?”

The boy’s dark eyes scanned Logan’s face as if attempting to look for any hints of deceit, but finally he nodded. “Okay.”

~~~~

“Logan look at this one!”

Logan looked up from his drawing to see that the boy was holding up a magazine and pointing to its dining room set. 

“It would be perfect!” He decided. 

Logan gave a slight chuckle, “I haven’t even finished the dining room yet.”

“Well make the walls match this.”

“I’ll consider it. I thought you were picking out the kitchen though?”

“But I saw and I liked this one. I’m almost done with the kitchen. Promise!”

Logan resisted the urge to smile as he continued in his task. He hadn’t expected the boy to get so excited over clipping things out of magazines, but it was oddly nice to see him so happy. 

“Done!” 

Logan set his sketchbook aside and he moved to see the boy had spread out some clippings. “So I see. You want to do the next part now?”

“What’s the next part?”

Logan didn’t reply at first, rather he reached into his backpack and drew out the plastic sheets he had brought. They were nothing special, simply what his designs would slide into, but even so the boy watched him eagerly. Logan slid in his kitchen design to it and pulled out some clear tape. “Now you can tape them wherever you want on to it. Just be sure to do it on the plastic.”

“So the drawing isn’t messed up?”

“Exactly. And then when you’re done with that...” Logan pulled a thin pointed sharpie from his bag. “Then you sign your name so everyone knows it’s yours.”

“Got it!”

With the boy set up again Logan continued his work on the dining room but it wasn’t too long before a “Tada!” rang out. The boy was holding it proudly and the moment he had Logan’s attention he began to point out different things and why he had picked them, it was adorable in its own way, but what stuck out of the Logan most was when the boy pointed out his handwriting on the bottom. 

“And I finished it like you said. By signing my name, I even did it in cursive!”

“You’re trying to upstage me I see,” Logan learned a bit closer to decipher the messy letters. “Virgil. That’s a nice name.”

The boy nodded in agreement, “It’s nice to officially meet you Logan! Now can I put plants in the backyard?”

“Of course.”

~~~~

“Is it time to start upstairs?”

“I think so,” Logan nodded, picking up his things. “Any suggestions on which room to start with?”

“The office.”

“Then that’s where I’ll start. And you’ll pick out the living room for me in the meantime?”

“Uhuh.”

With that decided, Logan took to the stairs listening to the sound of them creak with each step. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t unnerving. Like most others he had no reason to go upstairs in the old house, for one most people kept the main level and the party trashed area it had become. But according to the myths of his town, there were many stories on why one shouldn’t go up the stairs of the old house on the end of Wendon Way. Some claimed it’s where monsters lived, and others were convinced all who went up there were cursed. Logan personally didn’t believe in such fantasy, but he found himself more on edge than usual. As he reached the top stair and looked down the empty hall he took a deep breath, to calm and remind himself the differences between fact and fiction. 

“It’s the first door on the left,” Virgil chirped from behind him. 

Logan nodded and followed the instructions and opened the door to what had once been an office. Unlike downstairs, the old furniture remained. The room was small with tall bookshelves covering two of the walls. Directly in front of him sat an old dust covered desk and a chair, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to go over to sit at it. Rather he snapped a few pictures to use when he went home and sat in the middle of the floor to draw.  

“You’re not gonna sit in the chair?” 

Logan shook his head, “This spot is fine.”

Virgil didn’t reply, and rather he sat in the doorway and spread out the magazines he had been carrying and began to work. It was strange in a way, Virgil’s ability to stay on task for so long. Logan had always thought kids had short attention spans and yet he and Virgil could sit and work for hours. And even when Virgil had finished picking out what he liked he would find other ways to quietly occupy himself in the meantime. 

“What are you gonna do when you finish?” Virgil asked suddenly.

“I’ll do another room.”

“No like, when you finish the house.”

“I’m not sure. But I’ve got some time before then, I just wonder if I can finish before I go back to school.”

“Do you go to school far away?”

“It’s a few hours away.”

“That’s far away.”

“Then I suppose so.”

Virgil didn’t reply but rather he began to pull at the strings from one of the holes in those same pants he always wore. Logan didn’t push, the boy would speak when he was ready. 

~~~~

“Hi Logan.”

The sudden voice caused Logan to jolt in surprise. His pulse shot up as he looked up from what he had been doing to see Virgil standing in the office doorway. He took a deep breath, “You startled me.”

Virgil gave a shrug as he moved to the stack of magazines Logan had left to the side, “Did you bring new ones?”

Logan took another deep breath, “I did. You need to make more sound when you walk.”

Virgil ignored him, but something about his own words stuck with Logan. Since first meeting Virgil he had known that the boy walked quietly. And it certainly wasn’t the first time Virgil had accidentally snuck up on him, but with the loud creaks the stairs gave even under the slightest amount of weight, he would assume that Virgil would have made a sound coming up the stairs. Had he been that engrossed in his designs that he hadn’t even heard? Or maybe Virgil had been in a different room on this level already. It wasn’t as if Logan had any idea what Virgil did in the house when he wasn’t there after all. What did he do? And why did he come at all?

They were questions Logan had been wondering since first laying eyes on the boy, and yet it seemed as more time passed he was getting more curious rather than less. 

“Logan? Which do you think is a better couch?”

Logan refocused on the present and Virgil pointing out two brown couches in a magazine. “They look the same.”

Virgil responded with a frown, “No they’re not, you’re not helpful.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll do the sofa last,” Virgil decided, flipping to another page. 

“You could be quite the interior designer when you grow up.”

Virgil shook his head, “That’s not what I wanna do.”

“Oh? Then what do you want to do?”

Virgil didn't reply at first and when he did it was quiet enough that Logan nearly missed it. “Leave.”

“What do you mean by-”

“Logan?” A voice called from another room. Logan’s eyebrows knit in confusion as he stood. “Logan?” The voice called again. 

With that Logan exited the office and headed to the stairs to find his younger brother’s face looking up at him. Patton gave him a relieved smile. “There you are kiddo! This place gives me the creeps.”

“What are you doing here?” Logan replied descending the creaking stairs. 

“Dad wants you so mom called, but you didn’t answer and since I knew you were here I came.”

“My phone was off,” Logan lied. 

“What if something was wrong and we needed to call you?” Patton chided. “And if you got in trouble it would take too long for it to turn on to call for help.”

“Is he that mad?”

“I don’t think so.”

So he was. Logan gave a slight sigh, “Let me grab my stuff.”

He hurried up the stairs silently wondering how to apologize to Virgil, but when he returned to the office the boy was already gone. 

~~~~

“Who was that last time?” Virgil asked as Logan entered the house.

“My brother,” Logan answered. “I finished the office at home. Why don’t we move to the master bedroom?”

“Is he older or younger?” Virgil asked later when they had been sitting in silence. 

“He’s two years younger than me.”

“He sounded like he was treating you like the younger brother.”

“He does that.”

“Are you two close?”

No. “It’s complicated...”

“I have an older brother,” Virgil offered after a pause. “I haven’t seen him in a long time though.”

“Oh, is he old enough to move away?”

“Kinda.”

“Why don’t you like your brother?”

Logan stopped in his sketch and set his pencil to the side. “I didn’t say I don’t like him. I said it’s complicated.”

“Do you like him then?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you get along?”

“We get along,” Logan amended. “Patton gets along with everyone. I said we weren’t close... What about your brother? Do you two get along when you see him?”

“No.”

~~~~

“The final room of the house,” Logan stated, pushing open the door. He glanced down to the boy beside him and Virgil gave a slight nod with an almost solemn expression. 

It was a bedroom.

There were two beds in it. On the left by the door was a twin sized bed, but on the right was a smaller bed meant for a child. Between the two was a large dresser on which sat a broken mirror. Like the others on this floor the furniture was covered underneath a layer of dust, but one thing which was different about this room was the presence of flowers. 

They were dead and shriveled, some even decomposing, but that would mean someone had been in here not too long ago to put them in here. But why and when? Hadn’t this house been abandoned for ages? It didn’t make sense, but even so the flowers laid on the child’s bed beside a teddy bear. Their presence didn’t seem to bother Virgil any, as the boy walked past him into the room to go sit on the bed and pick up the old toy. 

Logan took a deep breath trying not to focus on answers he didn’t have. He only had a week left at home, and one room to go. That should be his focus. 

He had just gotten himself situated on the floor when his phone rang bearing Patton’s name. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Lo!” Came Patton’s cheery tone. “Are you not coming home? We’re about to go see Grandma.”

“I told you this morning I’m not coming.”

“But she’s our Grandma,” Patton complained. “I know she wants to see you!”

“No she wants-” Logan forced himself to take a deep breath. “I’ll see you when you guys get back tomorrow.”

“Okay love you L!”

“You too.” When he hung up Logan found Virgil’s quizzical gaze on him. “My brother,” he explained. “He was asking if I was going with them to see our grandmother.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked, setting the bear back in its place. 

“I’m not. I don’t really like going over there.”

“Why not?”

Logan grabbed his pencil and set to work instead of entertaining this conversation, but Virgil was still watching him. “Because,” he said finally. 

“Because why?”

Logan bit his tongue to keep from replying something he’d later regret. Virgil was a curious kid. He had known that for months now. “Just because.”

“You don’t like them do you?”

“They don’t like me!” Logan shouted in return. “Okay? My family doesn’t like me. So why should I go spend time with them?”

Virgil’s response came without any hesitation, “Because you have them.”

Logan’s sudden anger and frustration vanished at the words and he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the paper in his lap rather than into those dark eyes. “When we were kids we were at my grandparents’. And they have a pool... Patton wasn’t a good swimmer, I was. So I was supposed to watch him. But... but I didn’t. And Patton almost drowned. He died in that ambulance too, the EMTs actually brought him back...” he trailed off and shut his eyes trying to stop from falling deeper into his memories. “I nearly got my brother killed.”

“And you still blame yourself?” Virgil guessed. “Your family still does too?”

Logan opened his eyes to stare at the kid in confusion, wondering how someone Virgil’s age could even comprehend what he was saying, but it was all he could do to wipe away the few tears threatening to fall. “Patton is the only one who doesn’t blame me.”

“At least it was an accident,” Virgil said quietly. 

“What do you-”

”You always ask why I come here. It’s not that I come here, it's that I never left.” Virgil said slowly, getting up and coming closer. It wasn’t until he was directly in front of Logan that he spoke again. “Not since the day I died.”

Anything Logan could have said was cut off as Virgil poked his forehead- no Virgil had tried but Logan felt nothing but cool air. 

“That’s- That’s- That’s not...”

Virgil gave him a slight smile as he took another step forward only to walk through Logan. 

“I died a long time ago,” Virgil told him, walking around him and going to sit on that small bed. “I’m not good enough at time to say how long.”

Logan couldn’t get words to leave his mouth. He wanted to say something- anything but any half formed thoughts died on his tongue. 

“Take a deep breath.”

Logan did as he was told and even so it took him three tries just to choke out the word “how.”

“My brother,” Virgil answered, picking up a few dried petals and letting them fall from his fingers. “He pushed me down the stairs. He told everyone I fell.”

“Why?”

Virgil gave a slight shrug, “Without me Mommy wouldn't have to stay with Daddy. So when I died they left. But she used to come back to leave me flowers. And since she died he does it now. He comes on my birthday and... and on the day he killed me.”

“Virgil, I-”

“You should get close with your brother at least,” Virgil interrupted. “I don’t know about the rest of your family. But your brother seems nice.” 

“He is,” Logan replied quietly. 

The boy- the ghos- Virgil gave a satisfied nod. “You know, you’re the only one who’s ever seen me. I don’t know why, do you?”

Logan shook his head quickly, “N-no.”

Virgil gave a shrug as if it didn’t matter as he moved back over to Logan and picked up a magazine. “I’m gonna pick out the bathroom.”

Logan didn’t know how to reply, so he didn’t. He grabbed his sketchbook and instead began to draw. 

~~~~~

“Virgil?” Logan called cautiously upon entering the room. But Virgil didn’t reply or come out from wherever it was he went. He didn’t come out at all when Logan was drawing, or when he left. Nor did he come out the day after that. Or the day after that. 

Logan entered the room and looked around hopeful, but just as before he was completely alone. He gave a soft sigh as he set the flowers he had brought on the bed. “I head back to school tomorrow,” he told the nothingness. “I...I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t even know if you can hear me but, I’m making an effort with Patton already. My parents don’t seem happy about it but I am... so um. I guess I’ll go. I’ll come back though. I need to finish designing this room after all. So... I’ll talk to you then.”

The old house on the end of Wendon Way had stood for what felt like eons. Not one in the sleepy town could recall when it had been lived in last- or someone had ever lived there at all. But regardless of the details, it had become an urban legend among all ages. For children it was a place to avoid due to rumors, teenagers were responsible for spreading the rumors to keep kids away from their spot, and some adults didn’t agree with the idea of trespassing and understandably worried about what could be going on, and finally were the adults who had been those teenagers and fueled such worries among their peers. And for others it was a place to be far from the other worries of life. And yet there were unofficial rules to the house on the end of Wendon Way, one of which was not to go to the second floor due to the ghost which lived there.

But as he had learned, it wasn’t exactly a rumor. 

“This is you isn't it?” He demanded entering the second bedroom. 

The only occupant of the room looked up with a neutral expression. But not getting a response he gave a huff and began to read off the old news article he had found from his phone. “‘Local college student killed in violent car crash after supposedly leaving the Wendon House’. That’s you right?”

Logan’s attention fell back to the ever present sketchbook in his lap, “You're always so loud, Roman. I like peace when I draw.”

“But I’m right aren't I? You died like fifteen years ago outside this place? Am I right?”

“You are.”

“I knew it!” Roman cheered. “So, what are you drawing today?” When Logan didn’t reply Roman moved closer before he frowned seeing the face drawn in the book. “You always draw that same kid. Why?”

“Because I don’t want to forget his face.”

Romag gave an interested hum as he moved to sit across from Logan, “What’s his name?”

“His name was Virgil. And he was here before me.”

“And then what happened?”

“I got close to him.”

“And then?”

Logan stopped drawing for a moment and he looked up, those deep and sunken in eyes meeting Roman’s, “I took his place.”

[twinkling-writings]

The Mind Of A Waterman (Part.2) ; JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure - Bloody Stream (A fanfiction)

[We cut back to the previous episode of Bloody Stream, ‘The Mind Of a Waterman Part 1.’. Caesar has managed to outsmart the pillarman who had left a gash on his shoulder. After Caesar remembered what Joseph told him before the fight, he had luck on his side. “Think like the enemy, get into their mind, and find their weakness.”]

This is the line that would haunt Caesar Zeppeli for the rest of his life.

Osbourne let out a loud howl of pain, he couldn’t understand how Caesar got a clean shot on his leg. Osbourne tries to get up off the ground, using the foot he had left… or so he had thought. In horror, the pillarman would come to find that his functioning foot had been cut clean off. Osbourne could no longer stand, he knew he was done for. Despite this, he still tries to get up. In such a horrible condition, he still believes he can try. Nothing is impossible. That’s what his mother had told him centuries ago.  That’s the only reason, this pillarman is alive now. “It seems that… luck was on my side… I’ve disabled him… I’ve finally won…” the Italian would mutter under his breath. Grabbing his injured arm Caesar would take a deep breath, looking at Osbourne. Caesar would grunt and turn away, gazing in the direction of where he had come from. “I shall let JoJo know of my victory…“ Caesar begins to step away, getting barely any distance before he had heard a familiar voice. “Cae…sar…” Caesar would gasp softly out of shock, whipping his head around towards the source of the noise. There, he would see Osbourne, managing to prop himself up, only by a tad though. The burning sensation of Caesars’ Hamon ‘bubble cutter’ flowing up his leg, killing him slowly. Caesar would clench his fists, getting back into a fighting position despite being injured. “Stay down, you’ve lost. I won’t hesitate to attack you again!” Osbourne continues to make an attempt, managing to get up off the ground. Trying his hardest to use his water-controlling powers to form his feet. But he had the short end of the stick, there’s not enough strength left in him to form anything. His attempt is worthless as he falls back down to the sand on the beach with a grunt. Caesar would make himself blindly believe that this was a trick, his lips snarling up in anger. “I said stay down!” the blonde readies his bubbles, in case if an attack were to happen. “Caesar…” Caesar prepares himself to shoot the bubbles at Osbourne.

“Caesar don’t…” Caesar prepares himself to shoot the bubbles at Osbourne. “Don’t attack.” Osbourne managed to dig his knees into the sand below him, looking down at the soft yet warm beach. To him, there was a comfort in the sight of the ocean shore. That thought was cut short as he hears Caesar shout. “You’re just saying that to trick me! I’ll do it!” he’d show the bubbles to the pillarman, who didn’t even look up at them. He knew that they were there, so what was the point in looking? 

“You win…” 

The Italian would grumble in shock, but wouldn’t say a word. “I got up to tell you… that you’ve won…”

Caesar is shocked in silence for a moment, looking down at Osbourne with confusion written all over his face. “But… Why? You have the chance to land another attack if you find some way to break the barrier I’ve created-” Caesars quickly interrupted. “Even if I did… I know that in my heart I would still lose to you…” Dead silence falls upon the two, nothing but the crashing of ocean waves fell upon their ears. Until Osbourne looks up at the man before him. “Long ago… When Kars and Esidisi attacked the pillarmen, killing them all… I was the only one who had survived. I still remember it so vividly… Kars was staring down at me, as my stump bled. I couldn’t get up…” We cut to a flashback of the aftermath of the elimination of all the pillarmen. Osbourne looking younger as he coughed up blood from a previous punch to the chest. “You’ve lost, Osbourne.” Osbourne would look behind his brother, to where water that had sat in the sun all day had been. The water was practically beaming with Hamon. Osbourne monologues over the memory as he continued to tell Caesar the story. “The water behind him was filled with Hamon. At that moment, if he attempted to finish me off, I could kill him. I would die as well but… knowing that I ended him… Knowing that he was dead… It would have satisfied me, and I would not care if I had died… However… “ We cut back to the memory itself, Osbourne had the strength to stand up, leaning against a wall of stone. “Come on… Do it… Finish me off already… I’ll die fighting, just like mother did…” Kars would take a step back, letting out a huff of air as his stance became calm. Osbourne looks at his brother, obviously confused. The only word that broke their silence would shock Osbourne. “No.”

“Wh…What…? What do you mean ‘no’!?”

“I will not kill you. The bravery, honor, and pride stand against me, even while being as injured as you are… It is unignorable. Therefore, I will not kill you.”

Now we go back to the present, Osbourne choking his tears back as he trembled in the sand.  “It took me years to figure out why he didn’t slaughter me then and there. But now I know why.”

Caesar bites his lip, almost in guilt. But urged Osbourne to go on with a simple nod. Staying silent, followed by a moment of silence.

“Heh… It seems like we’re both fools… Caesar, the reason he didn’t kill me… was because he respected me. And so, as gratitude for this… I didn’t end him. He left our home in ruins.” Osbourne lets a tear slip down his face, looking into the man’s eyes.

“So I ran. And ran, And ran. Eventually, I faced the ocean. I willingly walked into it, and spent the next years of my life there, training and harnessing my powers. Eventually, I met up with Kars, Wamuu, and Esidisi. We waited in the pillars for what seemed like eons. Until now…”

Caesar’s eyes filled with confusion, his eyebrow-raising as he waited for an answer from the being in front of him. “What I’m trying to say is, I only back down once I know I cannot beat my enemy, as hard as I may try. Caesar… You fought brilliantly. The reason why I'm saying you win is that I know I can't beat you.”

“…But… Why? Why would you say you have lost to me, but not to Kars?”

“If I fought Kars today… I am confident that I will win, no matter what. However… Caesar. Your power… Your fighting spirit… it would take 3 Kars to match it, maybe even more…” Osbourne winces softly in pain. Gripping onto his chest, specifically his heart. “The Hamon from the cutter… It’s reached my chest now, telling my story must have distracted me from the pain…”

The water from the barrier has finally broken, flooding the sand around him and Caesar. The pillarmen uses the last of his strength to have the water lift him up. Caesars Hamon finally starting to disintegrate his body. Turning to dust now.

“Tell JoJo I love him… and I love you too… You showed me how to feel love… Thank you… farewell…”

Osbourne’s body is completely turned to ash, the tower of water crashing down into the ocean and if it were nothing. His ashes spreading across the water. Caesar is in absolute disbelief. Tears starting to stream down his face as he walked away from the scene. Not before picking up one of the necklaces, the Pillar had adorned. Even if Osbourne was a pillarman he had never personally knew, he treated the pillarman with honor and respect.

There are no more words to say as the ashes of the once alive Osbourne are lost in the ocean. Even in death. Even if only Caesar was there to see it, what Osbourne said was Eternal.

“Osbourne… I will forever hold you in my memory…” He turns to face back to the ocean, then to the necklace in his grasp. “And in my heart…”

Rest in peace, Osbourne.

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Of gods, demons and the longevity of true love.

My entry for the last day of fraxusweek hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus !!!

Prompt: Tarot/Legends and Mythology

"What are those things still doing around here?" Laxus asks brazenly, watching a few demons scurry away with disdain clear in his eyes. His grandfather, ever the spineless pacifist twacks his kneecaps with his walking stick before answering. "You young insolent fool. They are an integral part of our society."

Before the old man can continue his explanation, Laxus scoffs. "Are they though?" he asks, not willing to hear a possible answer. "I fought with that lightning demon earlier and his power is laughable. I could've killed him and taken over his domain and the world would've kept on turning. They're evil beings without a purpose, you should've just got rid of them a long time ago."

Rest of the fic under the cut!

"Laxus." His grandfather's voice has taken on that specific kind of tone that suggests that he's more than displeased at his opinion, but Laxus can't bring himself to care. In a world of gods, demons and humans, are the demons really needed? Didn't his grandfather wage a war on them because they kept corrupting humans? His grandfather is a contradicting fool, really.

"What. All they're good for is corruption, right? We can live without that."

"Is that truly what you think?" his grandfather asks and Laxus snorts in response. "Have you raised me to think otherwise?" When he gets no immediate answer, he rolls his eyes and turns to leave. "Laxus wait", his grandfathers gently orders him and gestures for him to sit down next to him. He doesn't do that, unwilling to give the old man that much, but he does halt his stride and turn around.

"I used to think like that", his grandfather confesses as though it's a surprise, as though that sentiment isn't alive and thriving. "But I changed my mind after I experienced their so-called corruption myself. It's not what you think it is and I implore you to do the same thing before saying such callous things." He pauses as though the silence would fortify his statement. "You're full of shit", Laxus answers pointedly, having heard enough. He doesn't bid his grandfather goodbye as he leaves. That day, it storms and lightning wreaks havoc upon the unsuspecting townspeople.

The next day, he has the pleasure to explain the reasons behind his little lightning spectacle to the goddess of script, words, letters, alphabets yada yada, he isn't that interested. He also doesn't get why she's so insistent on writing everything down, keeping logs of all godly activity. It's annoying. She keeps blabbering about immortalising the gods through words, but doesn't their innate immortality defy that? Interrupting her spiel about the importance of script, he asks her a question that's been weighing on his mind.

"Tiny," ignoring the indignant squeak escaping her he continues, "You're smart right? What's your opinion on demons?" Immediately, the shift in the mood becomes palpable. With a nervous chuckle, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "Well...", she starts and coughs akwardly. "That's quite the loaded question, isn't it?"

He gets her unease. The war between demons and gods had started eons ago and had only come to a sudden stop recently. Outwardly, the gods all seemed to have become all fine and dandy with demons being allowed to interact with them and humans, but they both know the that isn't the truth. The message of 'demons are totes a-okay!' is so recent and none of them truly believe it. But not a single person can go against Makarov's wishes, so they take part in the façade.

Seeing her discomfort, he inwardly sighs. Although he won't deny that he's an asshole, it takes a whole different kind of asshole to force an answer out of petite Levy who looks like she could be snapped in half by him. Furthermore, she'd have to put this conversation in her records and probably have another moral breakdown. "Never mind it squirt, you keep doing your thing", he says and ruffles her hair while she bravely tries to fend him off. She still ends up with a bird's nest though.

Realising that no one's going to share their opinions of the other camp, he decides to take the easy way out. Instead, he decides to march straight into the other camp. If you want to know something, the best way is to get it directly from the source, right?

Apparently, it isn't. Little demon children (it's disturbing how innocence and something vile can coexist like that) quickly hide behind their mother's skirt as he walks between them. Conversations fall silent and only slowly pick up again when they think he's out of earshot. He's always taken pride in his grand stature, but right now it feels horribly out of place and he wonders if there's anything he can do to make himself look smaller, to not frighten these people as much.

The obvious discomfort his presence brings isn't worth it to him. Sure, he could keep forcing himself into their space, but he'd garner no positive results. He's quite sure he wouldn't even garner any results at all, since no one wanted to approach him. Realising this, he turns around to go back to the palace.

His grandfather finds him sitting on the edge of an open window, mulling over his thoughts and wondering how to change his approach. Those things seemed to be scared, something that doesn't add up in Laxus' head. Were they not the ones who turned humans against gods? Were they not the enemy? Were they shoving the most innocent of them to the forefront so that, upon entering their domain, outsiders would see them as guiltless beings?

"If you keep that, you'll damage whatever brains you have left", his grandfather teases him as he comes to stand next to Laxus. Rolling his eyes, he merely grunts at his grandfather in return. "What's got you thinking so hard my boy?" he asks and for a moment, Laxus closes his eyes and lets the warmth of his grandfather's voice trickle over him. For the briefest of moments, it's nice to pretend he's still a newly made god who thinks he knows how everything works.

"I went to visit those things-"

"At least call them people", his grandfather interrupts him and with a sigh, Laxus does so and continues. "I visited them", he says, eyes full of challenge, but his grandfather merely nods encouragingly. "I still can't see why you keep them around. They're more trouble than they're worth."

"I figured that you'd say that, so I arranged for a very special meeting. Do you want to meet the demon that changed my mind and made me spare their whole kind in the midst of a battle?" Because it seems like the only option left to satisfy his curiosity, Laxus agrees. While they walk through the castle in search of him, his grandfather explains who the demon in question is. Apparently, he could be seen as Levy's demon counterpart when comparing the domains they rule over. Laxus wonders what kind of words the demon must've pulled out of his ass to convince his grandfather to not kill them all.

After listening to his grandfather's long and winded character introduction, Laxus had expected a meeting with an old, gray man who constantly spouted unwanted advice like a fountain of fortune cookies. A single look at the young man before him proves him completely wrong.

He's definitely not old, in fact, his youthful face seems to suggest that he's younger than Laxus himself. There's a hint of muted curiosity there, suppressed childlike wonder that Laxus himself feels too. Because Laxus is focusing on the other man's looks that much, he quickly comes to the realisation that the man in front of him is devastatingly handsome. As soon as the realisation hits him, he colours a bright red and redirects his gaze to the very interesting tips of his shoes.

A deep chuckle makes his gaze snap back to the other man who gives him an amused halfsmirk. It's terribly attractive. Clearing his throat, his grandfather gestures to the man. "Laxus, meet the demon who rules over the scripts, speaks all tongues-"

"Freed", the man interrupts and offers Laxus his hand. Awkwardly Laxus accepts it while his grandfather frowns. "What are you freed from?" Laxus asks and immediately, his grandfather groans. The gorgeous man in front of him simply laughs, pretty lights dancing in his visible eye. "Freed is my name", he clarifies and Laxus wishes he was the god of being able to be swallowed by floors.

"What brings you here?", he asks Laxus. Not wanting to be ignored, his grandfather steps in. "Laxus wanted to know what demons were worth and I believe you would be the perfect person to show him that."

With a cool smile, Freed turns to his grandfather. "Well then Makarov, you thought wrong. Good day, gentlemen." Then he turns on his heel and departs, leaving both of them stunned. After a while, Makarov coughs. "I'm sure you're smart to figure it out yourself", he encourages Laxus before swiftly taking his exit as well.

Pissed off, Laxus spends the rest of the day making up less than savoury nicknames for Freed. Annoyed that the list of quite creative insults isn't helping him reach his goal any faster, he decides that he can't let this chance escape. Determined to know why demons are still allowed to exist, he hunts the man down. Laxus Dreyar is many things, but a quitter isn't one of them.

Maybe asking "Why are you still allowed to live?" isn't the most polite of questions to start with. Maybe, one shouldn't ever utter those words at all. But Laxus has a mouth that runs quicker than his brain and so, he has wedged himself between a rock and a hard place.

"Why not?" Freed shoots back, not unfriendly per se but there's an edge in his voice, ready to cut at any moment. "Tell me, why must I die?"

It's a question so direct that Laxus fumbles before answering. "You lot are corrupting humans, giving them things they aren't supposed to have. You're crossing boundaries you aren't supposed to cross." It's an adequate enough answer, it's something he's been told all his life.

"Who set those boundaries then?" Freed asks before shaking his head with a little laugh. "And giving humans things? Oh no, we're tricksters my dear, we don't give anyone anything. Surely we might inspire, but we do not give. Every choice one of those little ones down below makes, is one of their own. Don't underestimate the human will. Now please excuse me, I'm done talking for today."

"Wait", Laxus says and grabs the other man's arm, intending to halt his stride. With a brusque movement Freed breaks free and when Laxus catches a glimpse of his eyes, he thinks he's come a lot of steps closer to knowing what the flaming pits of hell look like. That fiery expression is quickly schooled back into careful neutrality as Freed opens his mouth to fire off a snappy remark.

"You're a funny lot, you gods. It's your way or none at all, isn't it? Why? Your hubris knows no bounds." After that, the man's gone before Laxus can ask him to stay.

The following day, Laxus seeks him out again and finds Freed sitting on the edge of an ornate fountain, bared feet dipping into the water as gods stand by and whisper from a distance. "Can I talk to you?" he politely asks and is met with an uncompromising "No".

"I just wanted to apologize", he mumbles and Freed gives him a flat look before disappearing again. Wondering what he did wrong, he spends the rest of his day at the fountain, feet splashing in the water as though he was still a child.

The next day, he once again seeks out Freed, asking if it were an appropriate moment to talk and once more, Freed tells him no. This time Laxus gives him a steady nod before leaving himself. Forcing the other man to talk to him would never work and honestly, Laxus doesn't want to force a relationship with anyone. Should Freed ever want to talk to him, he'd have no problem finding him.

For a few days he doesn't even see Freed until one day, the man pops up on his windowsill, perching on there like a cat basking in the sun. He's gorgeous, Laxus realises once more, with his hair losely draped over a shoulder and dark wings and horns reflecting the sunlight with a gentle shimmer. He's alluring, pulchritudinous. Laxus frowns. That last one is definitely not a word that was in his vocabulary before.

"Am I inspiring you yet?" Freed asks with a wicked grin, sinfully stretching himself on the windowsill. "Are my devilish charms working?" he adds and Laxus nods, a bit stupefied. "Now, you've been meaning to ask me something, right? You want to know why my species and I are allowed to live, why your grandfather decided to spare me on the battlefield."

Another nod. "My grandfather said he decided to spare you after he witnessed your 'corruption' himself. I want to know what words you said, you demon of words, letters, -"

"I said nothing at all", Freed interrupts him softly. "I didn't say a thing as he held me against the ground, knife in one hand with the other one on my throat. I merely cried because I was scared, I wholeheartedly believed I was going to die. My tears hit his hand and in that moment, the god who created all gods looked human."

Sensing the disbelief in Laxus, Freed only shrugs. "I think it's the first time he saw emotions that he hadn't created. You lot were made by him, every god carved to perfection by his hand. Every tear you've shed, every laugh you've laughed, they were implanted in you by him. We demons tempt you to let go of that prefabricated self, to explore your own self. Becoming your own person separated from Makarov's making comes at the price of immortality and thus, humans were born. Gods who were such no more."

With a whistful sigh, Freed shakes his head. "But parents get mad once you escape their tutelage and to protect their children, they will eliminate that which forms a threat to their children. And so the war began and for every child lost, a new one was made on your side. We demons have no almighty creator, we are born from stray magic of mother nature herself. We happen to be. So during one of those battles, I happened to be there and I think the confrontation with genuine emotion made him realise that he was not destroying something of his own making that he could simply rebuild. Just like humans, when we do die, we return to the earth."

It's a bit of a heavy pill to swallow. With an uncomfortable laugh, Laxus rubs the back of his head. "Guess you're not too big of a fan of my grandpa then?" Freed gives him a chuckle in return.

"Definitely no. And also, a bit yes. I just think he's been lonely for a long time and thus, has become very protective over his company. I think he's making strides in the right direction, but he's not unifying anyone. He still expects you all to just follow his wishes, well-intended as they are. But you all have come in contact with us, haven't you? You're not completely his anymore, so you are unable to blindly follow. He should educate you instead of ordering you, but that's just my two cents."

"I'm starting to get it", Laxus carefully says as he mulls over Freed's explanation. "You're allowed to live because nature made you with specific purposes outside my grandfather's realm of ruling. Freed laughs at his scrunched up pensive face and boops his nose.

"We're not even at my true point yet dear. Here's my gripe, my core issue if you want: must have something have a purpose or reason to exist at all? I have already mentioned it, but we demons happen to be and so are humans in a certain way. There's no reason or purpose behind our existance, we are not fabricated with definite goal. You gods were and I think that defines a lot of your thinking. But at our core, isn't simply being enough? Doesn't being give you more freedom to do something, anything than a prefabricated destiny? One should not have a purpose to be allowed to live, but finding purposes in life is what makes it worth living. But even that you, who are immortal, can not grasp. It's a bit pitiful isn't it, a god's existance?" With that and a kiss on the cheek, Freed leaves him to stew in his thoughts.

Once he's talked more about it with Freed over the span over a longer time, the clearer the division becomes between gods, demons and humans. Seeing the obvious divide, Laxus turns to his grandfather with his thoughts and ideas for a unification. Obviously, the old man has difficulties with being confronted by his own mistakes like that, but at least he attempts to do better.

The progress is slow and every once in a while there's a major setback that throws a wrench in the relationship between the demons and the gods. But steadily, over eons, the undercurrent of vicious hatred disappears and it's at that moment that a different union happens. Laxus can't think of a life without this clever, misschievous man at his side and the affections are returned. Their marriage is something that brings the relation between demons and gods to a higher level, evens the playing ground even more.

Whether their opnions be good or not, every god has one on the union. "It really strenghtens their critical thinking, doesn't it?" Freed jokes as he reads one of the letters totally decimating him. "They're absolutely nae nae'ing me."

They exchange a few meaningful glances and Freed breaks the silence first with a sigh. "Every day we stray further from Makarov's light. Everyone has something to say nowadays." He gives Laxus a thoughtful look. "You know what this means, right?"

"Our immortality fades. We become humans."

Freed gives him a hum, confirming his speculations. "Gramps will become lonely again then", Laxus realises and with a heavy heart, he knows he doesn't want that to happen.

"I don't think he'll be around for that long", Freed confesses and presses a kiss to the corner of Laxus' lips to ease the lines of worry there. "Fear not for him my love, he is old and his children have grown up. He has found a purpose that brought him joy and now that purpose has reached it's peak. His life is a fulfilled one, prepare to let him go."

And let go of him they do, eventually. It leaves the gods without power, devoid of immortality but with a new sense of peace. "A parting gift", Freed whispers and Laxus draws his husband into the tightest of hugs. "Should I give you one too, when I eventually die?"

Freed shakes his head. "My dearest love, there's nowhere you can go where I won't follow. You've been feeling it too, haven't you? We're entering a new time, where a divide won't be there anymore. We will simply be humans, all of us."

When the time to fade comes, they know and are ready for it. Everyone's been feeling it, but there's a peace that shields them all  from true fear. There's an intimate knowledge that this is one of the changes that simply is, that simply happens.

Freed and Laxus are sitting hand in hand, with their feet idly splashing into the fountain as unworried children would do. "When we meet again, because there are no ifs about it, will you greet me as a friend?" Freed softly asks as his eyes close themselves and Laxus whispers back: "My love, I'd greet you as a lover."

Bonus:

University lectures aren't always the most interesting, but this one is certainly turning out to be. A guy a few rows before him looks about ready to fistfight the professor about nihilism of all things. He can't properly hear them, but clearly the confrontation is over and the guy whirls away from the prof, heading straight for the door. Laxus decides to follow him.

"Why were you defending a belief that says human life is useless and meaningless? I think we all have a defined purpose", Laxus says, daring the other man the answer.

And answer, he does, with eyes blazing like the gates of hell. "Life is inherently meaningless", he says with certainty, "But that's because it's filled with the opportunity to create your own meaning. You may be waiting for divine intervention, but I'll create my own destiny."

Laxus smiles then, the familiarity and the warmth returning to his soul. "Then I'll do too", he says, "You've always inspired me, my love."

Whether they be human or something else, their kisses keep tasting the same.

[jabbajambler]

35

Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,109

*GIF by @lyrawills​*

         The armorer worked diligently on melting down the beskar armor, the pieces that the Mandalorians had worked their whole lives to receive. It turned to liquid like it was nothing. The stories and battles it had seen were forgotten, never to be heard of again.

         "Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction." She inquired as she shifted her attention towards us.

         Din shuffled closer to the droid that held the child in a pack on its chest. His legs were still weak from the hit, but he was recovering faster than normal with the bacta.

         "This is the one." He said, gesturing towards the green child.

         "This is the one that you hunted, then saved?" She spoke with a joking tone.

         "Yes. The one that saved me as well."

         "From the mudhorn?" Her voice lifted with curiosity.

         He looked from me to the child then back to the armorer. "Yes."

         "It looks helpless."

         I squeezed past Din to face the armorer, standing tall despite how little I felt. "It's a bit tired right now, but it is far from helpless. It- It has the Force." I whispered the final part. Such power was a sensitive topic amongst the Mandalorians despite me having a connection with both of them.

         "Ah... So, it is like you." She directed her attention back to the melting pot of metal.

         "How do you know about that?" Din took a small step forward, his head tilted in confusion as he questioned whether everyone knew about such things.

         "The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore The Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers... Like Myrah here."

         "Jedi..." He whispered faintly. "So they are enemies?"

         "No." She sort of chuckled and shook her head. "Their kind were enemies, but they are not."

         "What is it?" He asked about the baby.

         She neared a large cabinet, opening it with the touch of a button. "It is a foundling. By Creed, it is in your care."

         He scoffed. "You wish me to train this thing?"

         "It is too weak. It would die. Unless Myrah deems herself capable of training it, you must reunite it with its own kind."

         "Where?"

         "This, you must determine."

         I huffed out a laugh and crossed my arms over my chest. "You expect him to go out and search the entire galaxy for another one of these things? Din can't go anywhere near them without being a threat."

         "This is the Way." She answered simply. "Isn't that a code that you once followed, Myrah Koor?"

         "Hey." Cara came towards us after exploring the small cave. "These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan."

         "If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats."

         "I think we should go." Greef proposed.

         "I'm staying." Din stated firmly.

         My head snapped towards him, both of my hands immediately grasping his. "What are you thinking?"

         "I need to help her and I need to heal."

         "You must go." She must have been growing tired of our bickering. "A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father." She paused as we looked towards the cooing baby. "This is the Way."

         She turned towards us, holding a crafted piece of metal in front of her. "You have earned your signet." With careful precision, she welded on the mudhorn symbol onto his pauldron. "You are a clan of two-" She stopped and glanced over to me. "Or three."

         "Thank you." Din's voice was sincere. "I will wear this with honor."

         A muffled explosion and smoke rose from around the corner. They were coming.

         "IG, please guard the outer hallway." The armorer demanded. "A scouting party draws near... I have one more gift for your journey. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?"

         Din nodded. "When I was a boy. Yes."

         "Then this will make you complete." She turned, holding a jetpack in her hands.

         "Thank you." He said again.

         I whistled and leaned against the central table. "You in a jetpack? That's sexy."

         "Myrah." Both Din and the armorer snapped, scolding me for my less than subtle words. It was like being a child all over again.

         "When you have healed," she continued, trying to move past my comment, "you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands."

         "I understand."

         Blaster fire echoed through the tunnels, followed by the bright red light of the guns. We reached for our blasters during the moment of silence that fell over, but they were lowered as soon as IG came back into our line of sight.

         "You are protected." It declared.

         "More will come. You must go."

         "Come with us." Din offered again.

         "My place is here. Restock your munitions." Din took off towards the table while she stalked towards the droid. "IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it. Now, go. Down to the river and across the plains."

          Cara, Greef, and the IG left the room while Din and I lingered a bit behind. "Be safe on your journey." She spoke to him. He said a final thank you and grabbed his blaster before following the others. "Myrah... You be careful. You know how-"

         "I know. I'll play it safe... But you have to as well." I smiled and nudged her with my elbow in a playful manner.

         "No. I wanted to check on this." She gestured towards the heavy hilt on my hip.

         I grabbed the weapon carefully, my fingers brushing over the gentle engravings and hovering over the small button. With two small clicks to the button, a light orange light grew from both ends, similar to its alternative staff form. I could feel my lips twitch into a smile just by gazing at it.

         "Do they know?"

         "Sort of. It's fine for now, though." I tucked the handle into my belt before forcing her into a quick hug. "Thank you for everything." I whispered and caught up to the group. I knew the sincerity went both ways.

         "This is the lava river." Greef pointed out as we emerged from the drab hall.

         The river was long and the heat that radiated from it brought beads of sweat to my face. I could see the steam that rose from the magma. The fiery orange flow of the river was threatening but inviting. It was beautiful and dangerous, the worst combination of them all.

         "The ferry droid is fried."

         "Yeah, but if we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream."

         I shrugged and glanced over at Cara. "Why don't we just shoot at it?"

         "That'll never work." Greef brushed me off. "Come on." He insisted.

         "Looks old." Din seemed questionable of his idea. "Will it take the heat?"

         "You got a better idea?"

         He sighed. "Guess not."

         Greef and Din struggled against the boat, working to push it away from the dock. He kicked it in frustration, stomping away from it. I had to hide the snort that came up from their failed attempt.

         "Come on! What're you doing?" Greef groaned.

         "Let's try this." Din grabbed a long, metal pole and tried to use it to carve away at the crusted edge.

         Cara sighed and pulled her gun over her shoulder. "You guys mind getting out of the way?" They stepped back as she fired along the edge, breaking the boat away from the platform.

         As Greef and Cara loaded into the boat, I grabbed Din's arm and pulled him over. My finger landed hard against his chest plate, making a small clink as it hit.

         "Don't underestimate my ideas."

         His hand wrapped around my own, his thumb moving tenderly over my hand. "Trust me, I won't."

         "Get in, lovebirds. We don't have time to lollygag." Cara joked with a smile as she looked back at us. I laughed and hopped into the small boat with the others.

         "Watch your feet." The IG advised. "It's molten lava."

         "No kidding." Cara huffed.

         There was a soft beeping and whirring that frightened us. We all spun with blasters raised towards the sound. The ferry droid pulled itself from the cracks and stood, holding its paddle in its mechanical hands.

         "I don't suppose anybody here speaks droid?" Din asked.

         I looked to him with a blank expression and a head tilt that said 'you've got to be kidding me.' Especially when there was a droid standing right next to us. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not at this point.

         "I believe he is asking where we would like to go." IG pointed out.

         "Down river." Greef nodded. "To the lava flat."

         The droid chirped and began rowing that way. It was quite a long ride, lava rivers always seem to have a slow current. After a while, we could finally see a soft, white light at the end; the exit. We were home free.

         "That's it. We're free!" Greef cheered.

         "No." Din's voice was soft and disappointed. "No, we're not. Stormtroopers. They're flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we're coming."

         "Stop the boat." Cara demanded, but the droid kept rowing. "Hey, Droid, I said stop the boat. Hey! I'm talking to you. I said stop!" Her anger grew as she blasted the head of the droid off.

         Greef glanced around anxiously. "We're still moving."

         "Looks like we fight." Cara's anger softened into fear.

         "We can't fight them. We're outnumbered. By a lot." I growled.

         "Well, then what do you suggest? 'Cause I can't surrender."

         "They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child." The IG spoke up from its spot. "This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape."

         Din chuckled softly. "You don't have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn't even get to daylight."

         "That is not my objective." It spoke, receiving a quick turn of heads from all of us.

         "We're getting close." Cara warned. "Saddle up."

         "Cara, we can't." I hissed.

         "I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct."

         "What're you talking about?" Din spoke with a harsh whisper.

         "I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed."

         Greef was growing more irritated by the second. "Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?"

         "I can no longer carry this for you." The droid spoke and rested the jetpack down on the boat. "Nor can I watch over the child." It passed the packed away child to Din, setting him in his arms.

         "Wait. You can't self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the child.  That supersedes your manufacturer's protocol, right?" He paused. "Right?"

         "This is correct."

         "Good. Now, grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out." He demanded.

         "Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive."

         Din's tone softened. "Listen, you're not going anywhere. We need you. Let's just come up with a-"

         "Please tell me the child will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command."

         "But you'll be destroyed."

         "And you will live, and I will have served my purpose."

         "No. We need you." Din spoke in a saddened, pained whisper.

         "There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive."

         "I'm not...sad."

         "Yes you are. I'm a nurse droid. I've analyzed your voice."

         It gently pet the child's ear and stepped into the burning lava. It marched through faster than the boat was moving, reaching the exit to the tunnel where the stormtroopers gathered.

         Din grasped my hand tightly, threading his fingers between mine and squeezing it as though it would be the last time.

         "It's going to be alright. IG is giving us a chance to escape." I mumbled and raised our joined hands to my lips, placing a soft kiss against the leather.

         "I know."

         We could faintly hear the droid's final words before he self-destructed. Din's grip tightened as the light reflected off his helm. Without speaking a single word, I knew what he was thinking.

         IG's sacrifice would not be in vain.

[excelsi-or]

16/10/18 - pool date (woozi)

A/N: This is already posted on my AO3 account, but I want to have a place where everything I make can live (writing and art and whatever else I decide to do). You can read all the parts that I have up already on AO3, but I will also be posting the story here every (week?) day.

I’m also ye-hun on this site, and while I don’t write on that account anymore, I am active there, reblogging all sorts of nonsense. :)

to a boy i love right now

w.c. 1.9k

October 16, 2018

“How is this fun?” she demands as Hansol nudges her into the pub. “This seems like the least fun place you could take me to.”

Hansol snorts as Seungkwan follows them inside. “Oh come on. You’ve been studying non-stop, noona. It’s a good idea to relax a little.”

Her eyes swing around the room. There are four pool tables in the center with booths all along the perimeter. A few people are lined up waiting for drinks at the bar. It smells musky and the lighting is dim except for over the pool tables. It feels like a Western-cowboy movie.

“They’re here already,” Seungkwan says over her shoulder.

“Where?” she asks. Her heart rate picks up at the prospect of meeting new people.

Hansol urges her forward.

Seungkwan had called him to their apartment when she’d walked out of her bedroom and screamed into a pillow on their couch. When she’d calmed down enough to talk, Hansol had gotten out of her that she was stressed about midterm season. So Hansol had instructed that they get dressed (that included Seungkwan) and he would take them somewhere fun.

As she had left the room, she’d overheard the two boys whispering. And at first, she was compliant, going and actually getting dressed even though a little voice nagged her about all the study time she’d be missing. By the time she went out to find Hansol on the couch, she’d changed her mind.

He smiled up at her, but frowned when he saw her expression. “Ah, ah, ah, noona. You aren’t backing out. I’ve already made plans for us. There are people waiting for us.”

“There are who doing what?” she demanded. “I don’t want to see anyone, Hansol.”

“Your outfit says otherwise.”

As they now walk up to a pool table of Hansol’s music major friends, her outfit still feels out of place. Her large hoodie and skinny jeans don’t exactly feel dressed up when the boys look wonderfully casual.

“I’m so not going to enjoy this,” she mutters to Hansol. Despite herself, a smile grows on her face. The tallest one returns it when he sees her. An arm drapes around her shoulders.

“Noona, didn’t think Hansol would be able to get you out here.”

“Nice to see you too, Mingyu,” she grumbles. She leans into him. He’s the only one she’s met before. The three other boys are familiar, because they tend to be around when she goes to find Hansol on campus. The one currently angling to take a shot is dressed similarly to Mingyu in a silk shirt, though his black contrasts Mingyu’s pale pink shirt.

The familiar crack of two pool balls connecting echoes in her ears. She watches the 6-stripe roll into the right corner pocket. The man straightens and high-fives the man standing next to him. Both have equally impassive expressions, though the one who’d just played is considerably shorter than the other men around the table.

“Oh, noona, I don’t think you’ve ever met my roommate,” Mingyu says. The man looks up at Mingyu’s voice. “That’s Jihoon hyung. He’s majoring in music production.”

Jihoon bows his head and takes the water bottle from his partner’s hand so he can play. Mingyu takes it upon himself to introduce the players she doesn’t recognize. “That tall cool guy is Wonwoo hyung. He’s good at games and Jihoon hyung is really competitive, so it’s not really fair that—”

“Shut up, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s deep voice murmurs. Over the music and all the other people playing pool, she’s surprised that his voice rings clear. She hadn’t even noticed his mouth moving. Carefully, he rounds the table, eyeing all the possibilities.

Meanwhile, Mingyu draws her attention away from Wonwoo to a man with brightly coloured hair and a bright smile on his face ready to greet her. His two front teeth remind her of a bunny and she can’t help but reciprocate the smile. “This is Soonyoung hyung. He’s not very good.” He waves towards the pool table. “That’s why we’re losing and the hyungs are going to beat us.”

“You just suck at the game, Gyu,” Jihoon chuckles.

“Noona’s actually really good,” Hansol quips.

“You take my place,” Mingyu encourages. “I’ll play with Hansol and Seungkwanie.”

She bites her bottom lip as Mingyu hands off his pool cue. Jihoon, across the table, notes that the cue is too long for her. Since Wonwoo is still trying to decide at what angle he wants to hit the cue, Jihoon passes his pool cue across the table. She hands Mingyu’s back towards him and Jihoon heads towards the far wall where there are others. She tosses the pool cue between her hands and finds it’s a little too heavy for her liking. She glances at Wonwoo who still hasn’t taken his shot yet.

Soonyoung is apparently on her train of thought. “Wonwoo, stop taking eons. Let’s go.”

She joins Jihoon at the cue rack. He glances over at her as she walks up. “Still too long?”

“I tend to use a lighter one,” she admits. She hands it back to him. Jihoon studies it and watches her try two others before picking the latter. She inspects the tip and shrugs.

“You play pool often?” Jihoon asks.

She shakes her head as they make their way back to the others. “I honestly haven’t played in a while.”

Hansol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu have bought a beer for everybody. As she’s not into drinking and Jihoon has to be up early for a class the next day, they pass on the alcohol.

“More for us then,” Mingyu sings. They’ve taken to a booth across from their pool table. Wonwoo and Soonyoung with a beer in them are useless players, so she and Jihoon have kicked them out.

To make it more interesting, they’ve started betting. So far, he owes her a pizza and she owes him a coffee. It’s getting late and they’re on their last game.

She bends over to line up the cue ball with the striped 4 at the other end of the table. It’s sitting right next to the far left pocket, courtesy of Jihoon’s last shot. She tucks her hair behind her ear, but it tickles her neck. It also doesn’t help that Jihoon’s eyes are following her every move. He was careful at the beginning, careful not to stare, careful not to brush by her. As they’ve played and she’s won and made a few hard shots (and with Hansol and Seungkwan shouting some drunken facts about her), he’s become increasingly more interested.

Sighing, she pushes her cue stick into Jihoon’s hand, as he’s basically standing right next to her. There’s no elastic on her wrist, so she turns to Hansol. “Do you have one of my elastics?”

Hansol pats his pockets and nods. He stretches across Seungkwan and Soonyoung to give it to her. Since becoming friends, he’s learned to carry a spare on him for when she forgets them for lab or if she has a test. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail and sighs in relief. Rather than lining up herself and the ball again, she trusts her judgement and hits the cue.

The crack is satisfying and she watches, with a smirk, the ball fall right into the pocket. The cue ball bumps into the edge before rolling back to the center of the table. Jihoon has given her a few free shots by knocking the cue ball in after his own solid. She smiles and turns to Jihoon. “I have the 8 ball left, Jihoon. I think you’re gonna have to owe me delivery after all.”

“Hyung, don’t let her smack talk you,” Mingyu calls.

Snorting, she meets the man’s eyes. Mingyu is grinning stupidly, as he has since consuming his second beer.

“If that’s your best smack talk, I think I’ll be fine,” Jihoon snorts.

“I don’t really talk smack. I let my play prove how good I am.”

Jihoon tips his head, unable to argue with her there. She can’t get the 8-ball in one shot, so she rolls it near a pocket out of Jihoon’s way and lets him play. While he’s been checking her out, she’s been doing the same in return. And she has to admit that his butt isn’t bad to look at.

Now, he wiggles it a little, knowing she’s staring.

Maybe it’s that sip of beer from Hansol that has eased her nerves a little. Or she’s already too warm in this room that she can’t feel her embarrassment anymore.

Jihoon knocks three of his solids into various pockets. He sinks his last one and then straightens up, standing across the billiard table from her. “I bet you one date.”

She blinks in surprise at this turn of events. The boys can all hear him and hoot from their spots in the booth. Jihoon ignores them. “If I sink the 8-ball in this next shot, you owe me a date.”

As he was playing, he’d bumped the 8-ball out of alignment. To get it into any pocket from its position right now would be difficult. Jihoon is a mediocre player at best and she knows she’s better than him at the game.

Dating good looking musical types scares her though, so saying yes here would either be bad or worse news for her. Bad if she doesn’t get the date, worse if she does. So she nods. “Okay, deal.”

Jihoon smiles and her heart melts a little. The boys have gotten up, drinks in hand, to stand around the table as Jihoon lines up his shot. Hansol drapes an arm around her shoulders, mostly because he gets clingy when he’s had a bit too much to drink.

They watch as Jihoon stares hard at the table. Throughout the night, she’s watched his eyes switch from focused to unfocused just from a tilt in his head. He almost looks angry when focused.

Finally, Jihoon bends over to take his shot. The ball knocks against one side, rolls to the other before knocking into the 8-ball. The momentum continues through and pushes the ball away from the closer pocket to the one on the other side. It lands perfectly into it. Mingyu and Soonyoung yelp, running to jump onto Jihoon’s back. He grins across the table at her and Hansol squeezes her shoulder.

Outside the pub, their friends separate to give them time to say goodbye.

“I didn’t think you’d manage that last one,” she tells him honestly, burying her hands into the pockets of Hansol’s jacket.

Jihoon scratches the side of his head. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it either. But you owe me a coffee and a date now.”

“Coffee date on campus tomorrow then?” she asks. “After my midterm.”

Jihoon nods. He holds his phone out to her. She texts herself and feels her phone buzz in her pocket. After passing the phone back, they awkwardly stand there. He shuffles his feet, unsure of how to say goodbye.

Until Mingyu steps in to save them. He loops an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders. “You have class early tomorrow, hyung. We should go.” He steers Jihoon away. Over his shoulder, Mingyu calls, “He’ll see you in his dreams, noona.”

Jihoon’s ducked head indicates embarrassment and she can’t help but laugh.

Next: October 24, 2018

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 28

When Negan joined me in the RV, the silence was overwhelming. He pointed at the passenger’s seat, and I moved forward sitting down and hoping that my nervousness was well masked. I was still wrapping my head around why I wasn’t a puddle of gore like Abraham outside. He took the driver’s seat and set down the bat, still coated in Abe.

I stared out the windshield, not willing to speak first. And he stared at my profile, I could see him from the corner of my eye. “Relax, Jessica,” his voice was far quieter inside the confines of the RV. “Sit back, sweetheart, and buckle up. Wouldn’t want you to fall out of your damn seat before we get home, now would we?”

Home? Seat belts? What the literal hell? I sat back and complied with his suggestions. Why not? Once the click of the belt confirmed I’d done what he’d asked me to do, the RV’s engine roared to life and we bumped away, to wherever he was taking me.

At first, it was as quiet as it had been when I first stepped inside. Aside from the roar of the vehicle, neither of us spoke. We passed the car I’d taken from Alexandria, and I felt a flash of fear, and failure. I’d left Judith behind. I gave her up, willing to die for Glenn, and now my choice felt selfish.

Dad would make sure she was kept safe, I reminded myself. He had Michonne by his side, and she’d step into the void I’d just created. Carl would remind her of her big sister. Hadn’t he gone to much more trouble for the family picture over the bar? I was telling myself this, over and over, as Negan drove us to wherever he considered home.

Maybe, I thought, he’d kill me there. In front of the rest of his people, because I was certain, having seen the ring of followers that lined the clearing, he had far more people than Dad had thought. Perhaps, unlike Abraham’s death, mine would be a different kind of show. An example. A reminder. To those who followed him of his strength and power.

I was becoming lost in thoughts, but I was also very present. More present than I think I’d been in months. I noticed when he’d shoot me looks. When he’d rub a hand over his face, in thought or frustration I couldn’t tell. And I was firmly aware of the bat, and how close at hand he kept it.

“Jessica Grimes,” Negan saying my name, in the darkness of the RV, as we drove away from my family and all I knew in this world, was almost shocking. The silence broken, the facade of peace gone. “Rick didn’t really answer me earlier. Are you his?”

I considered his question. Was he asking if I was his family? Or was he implying something more intimate? “I’m his daughter.” I answered, my voice loud enough to be heard over the noise of the RV and the road.

“Explains the hick’s reaction to you showing up.” Negan said, musing to himself. I wondered what Daryl had looked like when I stepped forward. “I’m guessing you're his?”

A much tougher question, I thought. I had been. And it felt like eons before this night when I was. But now? When had been the last time that Daryl and I found peace in one another? When had we looked at each other like a lifeline? I found myself more confused than Negan about what I was to Daryl. Now. And before.

“It’s not that difficult of a question, princess.” His voice sounded a little mocking, but I honestly didn’t care. What did it matter? Here, as I drove away with the enemy.

“Does it matter?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the road in front of us.

I heard him snort. “That sounds cold, Jessica. Very very cold.” I could tell he was studying me again. Like a puzzle. “If I’d known Rick Grimes, the biggest pain in my balls ever, had a daughter, I don’t think I’d picture you in a million years.”

He has two daughters, my mind corrected. And I doubt you’d have envisioned either one of us. I didn’t speak. What was the point? I’d be dead soon. Or worse. For all I knew, he was taking me to God knew where to take his time in torturing me to death. And yet, the only fear I felt was for what I’d left behind.

Silence bore down on us again, and I considered what Dad would do next. He and the others would take Maggie to Hilltop. She’d get the medical attention she needed. And then? He’d rush back to Alexandria to make sure that Judith was safe. He’d berate the guard at the gates for letting me leave. He’d hopefully take my deal with Negan to heart and return to the normalcy of life. He, Carl, and Judith could mourn me and let go. That’s what I’d hope he’d do. Enough fighting and uncertainty. Let Alexandria, let our people live their lives in peace. Or, I considered Negan’s warning, in as much peace as they could hope for.

I don’t know how much time passed before he spoke again. I was focusing on thoughts of Dad’s future plans when his voice called me back to the RV.

“Why?” It was one word, but it held so much. I understood what he wanted to know. Why had I offered without knowing that I’d be sitting here and not becoming Abraham’s twin? Why had I stepped forward when his people hadn’t even had an inkling that I was hidden out there? Why had I come at all?

I took my time to answer. Why had I come? A rush of fear, the cold fingers of death teasing up my spine that warned me that someone I cared about was in danger. A need, after so long without feeling anything, to DO something. Why had I shown myself when I’d been safe among the trees? Because standing by as a witness while such terrible loss was inflicted on my family was unbearable. The very thought that Glenn would die, that he would miss his child’s entrance into this uncertain world, and the possibility that his death would kill Maggie or their baby had pushed me forward. Why had I taken the chance, when I didn’t even think it was a chance by offering a man I just watched brutally kill a member of my own family? Because living, no surviving had become unbearable. Because I watched people I love walk away every single day, most without so much as a glance back, and it had become the worst form of torture to endure. Death, even in such a brutal and horrifying way, would be an end to it. It would make sense. Because in this world, death was the only thing that was certain.

I didn’t say any of this. I simply offered, “I don’t know.” When I’d found myself in the light, in front of Negan, I truly didn’t make the decision to move forward. The offer had been a rash one. I hadn’t really thought it over, and yet, when it slipped out I didn’t want to take it back. It had felt right. The perfect answer to the perfect storm that was surrounding us. I didn’t want to be an active part of the equation, so I took a chance to remove myself from it.

He was studying me again. “You haven’t asked me anything about what lies ahead.” He was curious about my own disinterest. That I wasn’t begging him to spare me. That I showed no inquisitiveness about my future, or even if I had one. I didn’t have any, what lay behind me was far more important that whatever I was going to face.

When I didn’t give him anything to go on, he sighed. “Are you suicidal, Jessica?” He sounded like he might care. How strange. And was I? Did I want to die, really?

I smiled sadly. No, I didn’t want to. If I had, with the weapons at my disposal I could have taken myself out of the equation so many times. Permanently. Without help. I shook my head, knowing he’d see it.

“And, yet, you offered to die.” The darkness was lightening, and I wondered what time it was, how long had we been driving. “Why was he more important to you than your own life?”

Glenn. Why was Glenn more important than me? Easy. He wanted his future. The hope of his family growing. The love of Maggie to carry him on. He was more important because he still had hope. I can’t think of a way to tell Negan this that would satisfy him, not without him refocusing on the possibility that I was suicidal.

“Every life is important.” I answered, feeling far too Gabriel-like for my own sanity. But it was true. Every life, here in the dystopia we’d been shoehorned into, was important.

He grew quiet again. And I waited. There was more, I was sure of it.

“I’m taking you to my headquarters.” We’d come to the brochure portion of the ride, I realized. “The Sanctuary. “ Not as nice sounding as Alexandria, but it couldn’t be worse than Terminus. “You’re right, Jessica, every life is important. Especially every life that has a purpose.” I wondered what he thought my purpose might be. “I don’t think I trust you to be alone, not yet.” Ah, so death did not await me, that’s a turn. I could tell he wasn’t buying that I wasn’t harboring self-harm thoughts. “You’ll be my shadow, for now.” Shadow? Like a pet? “Where I go, you go. What I eat, you’ll eat.” He shot me another look and I wondered what he saw. “Hopefully, soon, I’ll give you your purpose.”

I gave a small nod, letting him know I understood. Negan it would seem, has adopted me.

[spiteweaver]

previous | next

(Note: this story takes place in October of 2019!)

--

Of all the dragons Achilles had expected to show up on his doorstep out of the blue, Yọmí was the absolute last. Yet, there he stood, shivering in the early autumn chill, and looking very much like a sheep among wolves. The dragons of the pleasure district, patrons and proprietors alike, paid him little more than a curious glance now and again, but if you’d asked him, he would have told you they were leering at him, biding their time until they could sink their wicked teeth into fresh meat.

“We don’t bite,” Achilles said.

Yọmí gave a violent start, and scrambled to appear as if he wasn’t petrified. “N-no,” he stammered, “no, of course not, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Oh, don’t be so polite, darling,” Achilles cut in, “it makes me weak in the knees.”

“I don’t—I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Never mind.” Achilles turned, motioning lazily over his shoulder for Yọmí to enter. “Come along,” he said, “and explain to me what an upstanding young drake like you is doing calling on a courtesan at this late hour. I can’t imagine you’ve come to buy.”

“No,” Yọmí confirmed as he shuffled into the Nightingale’s dimly-lit foyer. “Actually, I’ve come to speak with you about a—a personal matter.”

Achilles arched a brow. “Oh?” he hummed. “Well, you’re lucky you caught me. I was about to head out for the Lighthouse District. The grand opening is next week, and the boys and I have hardly made a dent in the packing.”

“It seems a shame,” Yọmí said thoughtfully. “The Nightingale is—it’s a very beautiful building.”

“Want it?” Achilles asked. “It would make a mighty fine manor for a mighty fine architect!”

“O-oh no,” Yọmí replied, “I wouldn’t know what to do with so much space.”

“Get married,” Achilles suggested, “have a kid or thirty.”

The quiet hitch of Yọmí’s breath catching in his throat confirmed Achilles’ suspicions. There could be only one thing an aristocrat of his disposition could possibly want with a drake in this line of work. Sighing, Achilles braced himself for a long night. “So this is about all that then?” he inquired.

“Yes,” Yọmí mumbled after a split second of hesitation.

“I had a hunch,” Achilles said, and then cupped his hands around his mouth. “Darling! Dear!” he called. “If Arroyo or Jean-Baptiste come looking, tell them I’ve already gone down to the pier, would you?”

Another drake appeared in the doorway to their right. Yọmí thought he had seen the stranger before, recognizing his dark, mottled skin and smart dress, but wasn’t sure if he was Darling or Dear. “What should we do if they don’t buy it?” the drake asked.

“I’ll leave that to your discretion,” Achilles replied.

“Delightful,” the drake purred, and noticing Yọmí at his employer’s side, gave a short bow. “Lovely to see you, Master Architect!”

“You, uh, you as well.”

The drake departed, and Achilles led Yọmí up an unexpectedly modest staircase. He had imagined the staff quarters to be every bit as ostentatious as the rest of the building, but the third floor looked like it could have belonged to any of the houses in the capital. The drakes of the Nightingale were so famous for their showmanship, in fact, that when Achilles halted in front of an equally unobtrusive door, Yọmí stared at him as if waiting for him to go on.

“This is it,” Achilles said. “You did want to speak in private, didn’t you?”

Yọmí shook himself from his daze. “Er, yes,” he said. “I’m sorry, this is—it’s a first for me.”

“If I had a gold piece for every time I’ve heard that one...”

Achilles’ private chambers were more in line with what Yọmí had anticipated. Though lacking the rest of the building’s over-the-top decor, they were dressed in the deep purples and reds their inhabitant was so fond of, and Yọmí doubted a single item within was made of anything but silk, velvet, or lace. The intimacy of the space made him second guess himself, but Achilles appeared entirely nonplussed, moving immediately to pour his guest a drink from his exceedingly expensive stash.

“Sit—” He waved to the plush couch at the opposite end of the room— “start talking, and don’t be your usual bashful self. If you’re going to vent, do it right.”

Yọmí hurried to oblige his host, sinking so far into the cushions that he felt they may swallow him, but his mind was suddenly, inexplicably blank. “I don’t know where to begin...”

“You were a courtesan before you came to us,” Achilles supplied. “Start there.”

“That’s just it,” Yọmí said, “I wasn’t a courtesan. I wasn’t a—a—”

“A whore.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Achilles silenced him with another wave. “Don’t apologize,” he insisted, “it’s not an insult, sweetie, it’s what I am. I’ve been called far worse by far less charming drakes than you.” With a small, reassuring smile, he offered Yọmí a goblet of rich red wine. “What’s eating you then? I thought you were worried about that ugly ex of yours spilling your dirty little secret, but that’s obviously not the case.”

“I am,” Yọmí said, accepting the wine with a gracious dip of his head, “sort of. It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

Yọmí stared hard into his glass for a moment, and then, to Achilles’ astonishment, drained it in a single gulp. Achilles was glad he’d thought to bring the bottle with him. “My father arranged my marriage to Abaeze,” Yọmí went on, “because he found out I’d been seeing other drakes behind his back. I was lonely. Without my siblings, father was all I had, and he wasn’t very much. I started seeking solace in the arms of my peers, wealthy bachelors like myself who understood and respected me.

“I knew it was wrong; I was meant to be saving myself for marriage, for the sake of our house. That’s why father was so insistent that I marry Abaeze. Abaeze knew I was spoiled, but he wanted me regardless. Marrying into royalty would cement our family’s influence in Dragonhome after father’s exaltation, so he made all of the necessary preparations without even consulting me. I simply awoke one morning to find that I was engaged to a prince, and father was gone before I could think to protest.

“Then when Abaeze turned up here, he—” Yọmí’s words stuck in his throat, coming out as a strangled sob— “he humiliated me in front of my clan. Now they all think I’m some kind of harlot who will spread his legs for anyone, and I can’t tell them any different, because I was, Abaeze is right, and—”

“Stop.” Achilles pressed a finger to Yọmí’s lips. “Breathe.”

Yọmí did as he was told as Achilles leaned forward to light a stick of incense on the low table in front of them. It smelled of lavender, and Yọmí found his eyelids growing heavy all at once. There was a gnawing fatigue in his bones that he hadn’t noticed until then, with a goblet of wine in his belly and a beautiful drake’s hand against his cheek. Unable to fight it any longer, he allowed his head to be guided down to rest in Achilles’ lap.

“There,” Achilles murmured, “now slow down, take your time.”

“How do you do it?” Yọmí asked.

“Do what, love?”

“Deal with it.”

“Ah—” Achilles ran a hand wistfully through Yọmí’s wild curls— “that. Well, I don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“It isn’t about ‘dealing with it’,” Achilles elaborated, “there’s nothing to ‘deal with’.”

Yọmí didn’t find that a very satisfying answer, nor much of an elaboration. “What about what others think of you?” he pressed. “What about your reputation? Your status? Your family name?”

“Why should consensual sex between two drakes tarnish any of those things?” Achilles retorted.

“Because it—it isn’t done—”

“Stop,” Achilles said again, “breathe.”

“I just—” Yọmí took in another deep breath to steady himself, but his next words came out soft, barely audible and hoarse with emotion. “I just want to feel normal, like everybody else.”

“Oh, sweetheart—” Achilles bent to press a tender kiss to Yọmí’s forehead— “what did they do to you in Dragonhome? You’re such a darling thing, and still so young. Drakes your age are supposed to wear their hearts on their sleeves.”

“I’m two cycles already,” Yọmí said, a bit indignantly.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Achilles, evidently ignoring his guest’s displeasure, “come with me to the Lighthouse District tonight. It sounds to me like you’ve been taught an awful lot of awful things by the aristocracy, and if you ever want to get that weight off your shoulders, you’re going to have to unlearn them.”

“Un…?” Yọmí tilted his head back, so that he could catch Achilles’ gaze. “Unlearn them?”

“That’s what I said!”

“How?”

Achilles smiled, and Yọmí felt a peculiar stirring in his chest that he had not felt for longer than he cared to quantify. “Little by little,” Achilles replied. “It won’t happen overnight, but if we can start by changing your view of the world, perhaps we can change your view of yourself.”

“Will that really work?” Yọmí asked.

“Well,” Achilles said, “it certainly worked for me.”

“You…?”

“Do you think confidence like mine springs up out of nothing and nowhere?” Achilles scoffed, pinching one of Yọmí’s cheeks playfully. (The teasing gesture brought heat rushing into them, and Yọmí was glad then for his dark skin.) “I had to work hard for my vanity, darling, and a boy like you, with such low self-esteem, will have to work even harder. That’s why we ought to get started ASAP.”

Perhaps it was the wine, or the stress, or simply Achilles’ skill as a courtesan, but without really even looking for it, Yọmí had found his courage. Reaching up, he placed a hand on the back of Achilles’ head, and dragged him down into a kiss—the first kiss he had shared with another drake since leaving Dragonhome all those aching, longing eons ago. Achilles tasted sweet, like wine, and honey, and something Yọmí couldn’t name, but that made his entire body warm with desire.

When they parted, it was breathlessly, and Yọmí didn’t let Achilles wander far. “I am not,” he said, “a boy.”

“Evidently not,” Achilles conceded. “My, when you decide you’re going to do something, you commit! Here I had you pegged for a bottom, but that was raw, visceral top energy right there! I’ve got goosebumps!” Then his sly smile returned, indescribably beautiful beneath the pale pink color of his blush. “Are you certain you aren’t here to buy?”

“O-oh, n-n-no, I c-couldn’t—”

Well, so much for courage.

--

@nostlenne

[jimlingss]

Worshipers of the Sky [Finale]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 [Finale]

Part of the Worshiper Series

➜ Words: 9.6k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Some Angst, God!AU

➜ Summary: He wonders why the sky doesn't cry for him. After all, he is a sacrifice to a god whose name he never heard of. A sacrifice to a god that everyone had forgotten about. A god who controls weather through emotions.

➜ Warnings: N/A

He can’t believe he’s been kidnapped.   The realization only hits Taehyung when he’s sitting on a tiny stool next to Miyin’s grand throne and his mind is finally able to clear up. The goddess is getting a foot rub from her servant while she judges the next soul who enters the room. After she sentences the soul to burn in a fire for the next five decades, he finally turns to her.   “Why do you want me?”   “Enough.” She signals to her servant who scrambles, setting her foot down and standing up, only to rush over and take her hand, guiding her off the throne. Once the Goddess of the Underworld is on her feet, she turns to Taehyung with a curl of her finger. “Walk with me, human.”   The short male servant goes running ahead of her, pushing open the double doors. Taehyung’s greeted with the magnificent dining room. The table seems to stretch on for meters, twenty empty chairs surrounding the feast prepared. Around the room are portraits of the goddess herself, painted in dark hues that seem to glow with the hanging chandelier’s luminescence.   Taehyung doesn’t like it one bit. There are no natural lights here, no sign of the sun, only the flickering flames of candles. There are constant whispers in the corners, shadows that seem to follow after him, and he swears monsters are creeping in places he cannot see. It brings chills to his spine, and when he looks outside the glass windows, instead of seeing clouds and garden beds, it’s a land of black. There are dead trees with naked branches that curl in bizarre directions. The only light source seems to be something in the sky equivalent to the moon.   It’s a wasteland.   He tried to return back to the Heavens and somehow he ended up in the opposite direction.   The poor servant skedaddles over to pull out a chair for Taehyung, guiding him into the seat before he dashes around the entire room to pull out a chair for the black-haired goddess. She plops down and takes the goblet, taking a large sip of the wine.   “Being in charge of judgment can be so tiring sometimes,” she exhales and rolls her shoulders, robes shuffling down for a mere moment and more skin revealed. But Taehyung isn’t distracted this time around and his eyes remain firm on her’s. “What do I want with you,” she sing-songs and hums. “A very good question indeed.”   The goddess sets down her chalice and shrugs before her mouth curls into a smirk as if he’s delicious prey she’s preparing to devour. “Rather than wanting you, I want some fun. Humans are dispensable. If I wanted to, I could pick up tens of them every hour and play till my heart’s content. There are many people like you, Taehyung. But it gets boring after a while, no? I’d much rather play with Y/N.”   Taehyung frowns. “You’re using me to get to her?”   “That’s what the world’s like, darling.” The goddess lifts up her chalice once more, cheering. “She threw you away, so I just nabbed my chance. Loser weepers, finders keepers.”   She finishes her drink and sets it down, causing her servant to rush over with a golden jug and pour her more wine. “Now it’s my turn to ask you…” Her long fingernails tap against the armrest of her chair. “What do you want?”   “Me?”   “Yes, you.” She pops a strawberry into her mouth and chews thoughtfully. “I am the Goddess of the Underworld, ruler of an entire realm and I’m offering to grant any desire that you may have, so speak.”   His eyes narrow in suspicion and Taehyung continues to sit straight, rigidly, with his hands in his lap, not moving or relaxing a single inch. “What’s the price?”   Miyin cackles and puts her palm down on the table. “I would be offended that you would take my graciousness as some sort of trick, but Y/N taught you well. Name your wish first and I will name my price.”   “I want to go back to the Heavens,” he says it without a moment of hesitation. “I want to talk to Y/N. I…..want to stay by her side.”   She hums a low note and pops a grape in her mouth. “And?”   “I want…” Taehyung inhales a breath, revealing what he wants the most. “I want to be her protector.”   “How noble of you. It’s admirable.” She smiles, irises glimmering as she chews and swallows down her fruit. “Your loyalty is strong. Of all things you could wish for, you wish to be her guard. I’m almost envious of Y/N. But let me offer you one better.”   “What is it?”   “I could make you into a demigod.” Her lips spread and it’s enticing. Taehyung hangs off every word as if he is intoxicated. “Half human. Half god. You could stay with Y/N indefinitely.”   The goddess stands suddenly and Taehyung follows after her. Her sole servant sprints to open the grand doors to the left wall. An endless hall is revealed, moonlight pouring on the carpeted path, glass windows to his right and more portraits to the other side that seem to stare as he brushes past. At the end of a hall is yet another door and he assumes it must be her bedroom.   Miyin walks and Taehyung trails after her. There are a few antiques on shelves and stands and her fingers brush fondly over a vase before she continues along and addresses him.   “Of course, you would have to pay your own price for that. You would be immortal.” She pauses and turns to him. “Lots of humans wish for immortality without knowing the cost. They chase after it like fools. But nobody, not even Y/N, would wish that punishment upon you. To stay alive eternally is to be trapped. You would be forced to watch her die and come back, wait for her to grow up, only for her to die again. There would be no end in sight. You would never have rest or peace.”   “But….you could be with her.” Miyin’s voice is gentle. It is deafeningly quiet in the land of the dead, even white noise is absent to the ears. The goddess allows Taehyung to make a fair decision, not utilizing her powers nor twisting the truth. There is no deception in her words.   “If not, when you die and your body withers away, your soul will return to this place for me to judge. Most likely, you’ll be wandering without escape, without many memories. And ultimately, Y/N will be by herself for the infinite lifetimes to come.”   It sinks in. It soaks through.   The Goddess of the Underworld awaits his decision or at least a reaction. She watches him, trying to decipher where he leans with the proposition. And Taehyung cannot even hint to the thoughts brewing inside his mind. Something is lodged in his throat, uncomfortable in his chest.   He doesn’t know.   He is conflicted. He is torn.   “And what’s in it for you?”   The goddess cackles at his question, musing that you truly chose someone who was both amusing and intriguing. Even with such a tempting offer of being made a god, his judgment is not clouded with greed. He is smart, almost fearsomely so. “I want you to satisfy my pleasures.”   Taehyung’s brow lifts, his lips in a tight straight line. “Meaning?”   She takes a step forward, hand gently brushing along his shoulder until she grabs hold of the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer. Miyin’s red stained lips hover above Taehyung’s, a few millimeters apart, but she maintains the distance and smiles. He swallows hard, keeping his eyes trained on her’s.   “Whatever I desire, you will fulfill it. Whenever, wherever.” Her hot breath ghosts on his skin and she steps back, letting him breathe again. “Y/N wouldn’t have to know about it. It would all be in your dreams. Your heart belongs to her. Your body belongs to me.”   The goddess is seductive and her contract is even more so. She makes promises that it would feel so good, he wouldn’t know anything else. She tells him all he has to do is agree and once they enter her room, all his wishes will be fulfilled just like that. He’ll have you. He’ll be with you — forever.   But…..but….   “I can’t do that to her.”   Taehyung shatters the trance she’s put him under with a soft whisper. His mind clears. He knows that he’s too selfish. He can’t divide himself, deceive you, love you with only part of him. He’s too greedy. He’s too human. If he is to be with you, he wants to be all there and he wants all of you as well. Body, mind, and soul.   “Ugh...humans and their foolishness.” Her face twists something akin to disappointment and distaste while her mutter sounds like it’s a thought to herself. Miyin increases the distance between her and Taehyung, but before she turns away completely, she warns him one last time.   “Are you certain of your answer? This is once in a lifetime, once in your entire existence. You will never be offered to be made a god by anyone else. Would you rather die and let Y/N suffer on her lonesome for the eons left to come? Or would you want to pay a little price to be beside her?”   “I….I need time.” Taehyung downcasts his head, unable to look at her, still torn. “I need more time to decide.”   She smirks and nods, eager to get her hands on him, but restraining herself. “Of course, take all the time you need. In the meantime, I can help you with your other wish…..and no, there isn’t a cost or any tricks. It’s out of the goodness of my own cold heart...and to hopefully advertise and coerce you to take my other offer.”   Taehyung is still on guard and apprehensive. “What is it?”   Miyin simply turns to her left and takes a long handed sword off of its display, tossing it lightly to him. For some reason, he doesn’t scream nor does his entire head get severed from his neck, but his instincts take over and he manages to catch the handle.   His eyes grow wide and she claps her hands together twice. The doors open, warm light shedding into the dark hallway and her servant comes running again. “How may I offer my services, madam?”   “Sihyuk,” she calls the servant like it’s odd on her tongue, as if she’s used to calling him ‘you there’ rather than by his actual name. “Show Taehyung to the armory and training chambers.”   He folds his hands together and bows deeply, never once looking her directly in her eyes. “Right away, madam.”   The corner of her mouth upturns and she raises a brow at the human before striding off. “If you want to become her protector, then you should at least learn how to protect, no?”   //   Taehyung cannot know how long he is there for. It seems like time is wrapped in the Underworld and especially when there is no rise or fall of the sun, no change of moons, he can’t say for sure if he’s there for a day, a few weeks, or months on end.   The goddess is typically preoccupied with her own duties, so she is unable to follow after him and pressure him into giving a definitive answer. On most days, she’s seated at her throne, flicking dirt from underneath her fingernails, bored out of her mind as she judges the souls that come wandering into the throne room. And for Taehyung, he spends his time training.   He’s never held a sword before. For heaven’s sake, his mom didn’t even let him use a cutting knife back at home because he nicked himself once as a child. He’s awkward and frankly, cowardly with the sharp weapon that seems like it could slice through brick. But he’s put through extensive training with deceased souls of warriors and generals.   Miyin allows Taehyung to interact with dead souls of soldiers, letting them become an apparition temporarily. And he trains like a dog with these brutal men. They scream, they shout commands, and they fight him. Luckily, Taehyung can’t be hurt, the pain only lasting for a split second, and whenever he slices through their ghostly bodies, they crumble to ash.   “Bend your knees, boy!” Minseok, Great General of the Midland Wars paces back and forth with his arms tucked behind his back. He is absolutely terrifying and Taehyung’s body is shaking while his eyes watch the translucent man who seems to float. He can’t believe he’s actually speaking to someone he’s read in history books. “Draw your sword with more vigor! Look more stern! You call that a swing?! I’ve had legless soldiers better than you!”   “I could probably stab him in one swing,” Mark, fierce warrior from the kingdom Irha, mutters underneath his breath but his volume is still too loud.   “A stick could probably kill him in one swing.” Another famous general, Jihoon, chuckles lowly with his arms crossed, observing the entire scene.   “What I’m more curious of is why he is choosing to fight with a sword.” Yoojae, one of the oldest philosophers and scholars of his time, puts his scroll down into his lap. “If they are gods, then no physical weapon could ever do them harm.”   “Huh, good point.” The warrior is stumped for a second. “But it’s still good to work on his skills, lest he look like a skinny skeleton man who could snap with a brush of the wind.”   “If he were of any intelligence, he ought to work on his wit,” the Scholar says. “Outsmarting the gods is more powerful than one may think.”   “Maybe so.” The General agrees and eyes how Taehyung swings at the other man, stiff but better than last time. “But you also underestimate the power of the sword. It is not the weapon alone that will challenge the gods, but the game of mind and the psychological. The mere fact that he is training will bring cause for intimidation. It will mean he’s willing to go at great costs to protect his woman, to the point of risking bodily harm upon himself. It means he is willing to become violent and to fight.”   The Scholar and Warrior stare at him until the former man laughs. “You should’ve gone to school and written a book on the laws of warfare.”   “I would’ve if the entire kingdom wasn’t being torn apart during my time.”   “It helps that he has my sword,” the Warrior leans in and tells. “It’s been blessed by a priestess with the ability to kill any god.” The two other men turn to stare at him with wonderment, horror, and surprise. And he merely shrugs. “Won’t help with the way he’s swinging that thing though.”   “Are you blind or are your eye sockets backwards, boy?” The Great General is shrieking at him and when Taehyung spews out apologies, he seems to get angrier. “Are you going to apologize to your enemy?! Are you going to start a little apologetic tea party?! I’ve had armless soldiers better than you!”   Taehyung doesn’t think he’s suited to this lifestyle. He’s much better off being a gentle baker or a florist or a sacrifice. At the rate he’s going at, he might as well be a human kebab, stabbed with a sword and roasted over a fire. But still, despite the gossip he sometimes hears from the warriors, generals, scholars, and their snarky comments from the sidelines...despite being yelled at.....Taehyung can feel his improvement.   And Miyin is impressed.   “The more and more I watch him, the more attractive he becomes,” she muses and waves her hand, making the mirror disappear. Occasionally while she sits on her throne, she likes to take a peek to see what he’s doing. “He is quite an honourable man. You don’t encounter many of his kind. It’s no wonder Y/N has become so weak for him.”   “But madam.” Sihyuk lowers his head. “He is a mere mortal and—”   “Shut your mouth,” she snaps cruelly to her servant and he flinches. “I know it’s disgraceful to desire a human, you don’t need to remind me. You think I am so shallow that I am going this far for my own lust?”   “Then are you not afraid of what the Goddess of Sky can do?”   Miyin motions for him and he helps guide her off her throne. She struts towards the glass window with a smirk. “Do you see any sky here? Why should I be fearful of something that has no effect on me?”   “But—”   “Ooh, looks like we have a guest.” The goddess’ dark orbs glimmer and as she spins around, the grandiose doors to the throne room swing open. As it parts, she’s met with another individual whose hair is equally black as her’s.   As intimidating as he presents himself and the way his aura is, it doesn’t change his endearing appearance. Cat-like eyes, black irises with a glimmer of milky white that sparkles, fluffy hair strands, rounded cheeks that contrast against his sharp jawline, he’s honestly too cute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you fool of a cow. Do you want to be damned to death?”   Ah...there it is.   “You always have the best greetings, Yoongi.” Miyin smiles and her servant scrambles away, giving the two of them their privacy. The god strides straight towards her, black robes swaying as his steps seemingly boom. “But is this a way to greet your sister in her own home?”   “Stop this madness,” he commands in a raspy timbre, but she is not a human and cannot be swayed by his voice alone. “Stop playing games before the council punishes you.”   The Goddess of the Underworld quirks her head to the side and bats her eyelashes. “I haven’t done anything wrong?”   “Y/N isn’t someone to mess with.” Yoongi won’t allow any time for mischief or jokes. His lips are in a tight line, his stare intense. “It’s dangerous.”   “Don’t be so anxious, Yoongi.” She brushes her hand on his shoulder but frowns when he shoves her off. “Why are you all so afraid of her—”   He sighs exhaustingly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just because you’re not directly affected by her actions, doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want. Are you trying to increase the death count? You want more souls or something?”   “Not particularly…”   “Because there’s a damn hurricane up there right now!” He’s shouting, usual composure completely lost. “There is a storm and a fucking typhoon and at this point, Jungkook is pissed Y/N is messing with his ocean. You’re going to start another war!”   The goddess stays silent, pouting at not having her way and her brother shakes his head. “You have zero idea of what you’re doing. Where is he? What did you do with him?”   “Nothing,” she exhales and then claps her hands, causing her servant to come bounding from the other room. “Call Taehyung.” He nods and within the next minute, the human is trailing after him, entering the throne hall, eyes landing on the unfamiliar god. “There you are! Looks like our time is running out, darling.”   Taehyung stares at Yoongi. “Who—?”   “I am God of Moon and of Hunt….” He sighs and runs a hand over his tired face, not bothering to go through with a proper, long introduction. “Look, you probably know who I am and if you don’t, pick up a book and do some reading, human.”   Taehyung would be amused by the god since it seemed like most of them put an emphasis on introducing themselves as if it was directly linked to their own pride, but the solemn atmosphere doesn’t allow him to smile. Yoongi inhales and shakes his head. “We don’t have much time.”   “What’s going on?” Taehyung asks, looking between the both of them and Sihyuk, but they ignore him.   Suddenly, the ceiling shakes and quivers. There’s a ricocheting crash, an explosion-like clamor somewhere above them and the servant winces, trembling in fear. The candles flicker and the chandelier swings gently. There are specks that fall from the ceiling to the floor. It’s as if there’s a giant stomping on the roof or perhaps it’s a bit farther.   “I don’t think we have any time.” Both of the gods sense an oncoming presence and Miyin pouts, quickly turning to Taehyung. “Our fun is over, darling. What a shame I couldn’t even get my hands on you, but the time has come. Tell me what your final decision is.”   “Will you sacrifice your body and soul to stay by the side of whom owns your heart?” The corner of her lips curls and she steals a step closer to him. “Or will you choose to stay the same and when you die, you will abandon her for the rest of eternity?”   Taehyung swallows hard.   The goddess sways closer to him until she’s a millimeter away. She smiles and he feels goosebumps erupt across his arms when her hot breath skims along his skin. “I could turn you into a demigod. You would have powers beyond belief, in a way you’ve never felt before.”   “Miyin,” Yoongi warns in a lower tone.   But she ignores him and she drops her voice into a seductive whisper, luring Taehyung in and making his mind hazy with intoxication. She pulls him closer to her, a temptress in the way she presses her body against his, making him hitch his breath in his throat. “And you could have me. I know you want to touch me, Taehyung. I can feel it. I know you can’t resist. Don’t you want to feel pleasure? Beyond what any man can ever experience. I can give you that. I can be that.”   To live forever and spend every single one of those moments being with you. He could have powers. He could truly protect you then, from the other gods, from humans, from any threat that lays in your path. All he would have to do is suffer consequences of immortality and to sacrifice his dreams, to allow the Goddess of the Underworld to indulge in him and for him to indulge in her.   “I….I—….”   It’s an opportunity he won’t receive again. And if he doesn’t take it, he will die anyways and come back to the Underworld as a soul. He will leave you. You would be left wallowing in grief, for the sky to follow suit and the rest of the universe to crumble along. Returning now would simply be prolonging the inevitable.   But...   “I can’t do it.”   Taehyung shoves her away.   The spell breaks and the Goddess of the Underworld stumbles back in shock. Even Yoongi’s eyes have doubled in size and her servant’s jaw drops, a squeak leaving his mouth, stunned at how the human physically pushed the goddess away.   “I can’t do that to Y/N.” He swallows hard and challenges her. “I will never do that to her.”   Miyin’s finger quivers as it raises, pointing at him. Her face is reddened in rage. “You—!”   “I don’t want you. I want Y/N. And I want all of her.” Maybe it is outrageous to give up such an opportunity. But at this moment, Taehyung can think of nothing but you.   Every little quirk, each of your childish antics. The way you pout at him, yell at him, scold him. The way your tears drip off your lashes when the rain pours. The way you laugh and the sun seems to shine brighter and the universe is painted in warmer shades. The way you call his name softly like it’s a plea for hope. The way you gaze at him and the sky blooms in a hue of rose.   The answer comes easier than expected. “And I want her to want all of me.”   There’s a beat of silence.   Then, the Goddess knocks back at her head, scoffing before it morphs into cold laughter, lacking all mirth and never quite reaching her dead eyes. “Never in all my lifetimes has a generous offer like this been rejected, and by a mere mortal at that,” she spits it out in unadulterated appallment.   “No man could ever resist me.” Her eyes narrow and she steps back, shaking her head. “You have disgraced and disrespected your gracious god. You disgust me. I never want to lay my eyes on you again. Not even after you die.”   The goddess’ fist clenches, pride damaged, and she unleashes her hatred in the only form she knows how—   “Listen well, human. I bestow to you the same favour you have endowed to me, shame and humiliation, a curse that will never be broken. Your soul will live on, never to crumble to the underworld, never to meet rest. You want your wish fulfilled? Then so be it, but at a price you could never conjure.”   Her voice rumbles and ricochets across the land of the dead, heard by ears that cannot beg for mercy. A sharp pain shoots through Taehyung’s chest before simmering down into a constant ache and he winces, lungs lost of breath. The walls shake in the goddess’ wrath, her pupils blown in anger.   “You shall reincarnate. You shall live again and again to find the one you most desire. You shall never let the Goddess of the Skies decay in her loneliness, but your soul will seek no rest either.” The heavy curtains of the windows soar, wind breaking through the room. The shadows seem to expand in size, monsters whispering until they shriek in his ears. “Over and over again, you will relearn the sufferings of life. You will relearn the pain of the goddess for whom you long for.”   “You will bear the weight of your punishment for denying a god.” The Goddess of the Underworld curses him with spite, never wanting him to return to her home. “This punishment will last forever.”   A blinding light pierces his vision before endless darkness floods his eyes. The curse is sealed and the agony felt beneath his flesh seemingly vanishes. Right as Taehyung regains his sense of self, the doors to the throne room slam open, almost breaking off the hinges.   And the person Taehyung longs to see the most is standing right in front of him.   You.   He can’t help but smile, even if moments ago he was just cursed for the rest of eternity never to truly die, never to return to the Underworld again. It’s a curse that feels more like a blessing. If he could live over and over again, he won’t mind being pained as long as he’ll be able to find you each time.   “This was not our deal, Miyin!” You’re screaming, face twisted in rage. The chilling wind seems to follow, overtaking the vast spaces of the hall, filling every corner and even making the shadows frightened. “This was NOT part of the favour!”   “Calm down, Y/N.” It’s petrifying how fast the goddess’ face voids of the previous hatred and washes over with a taunting smile. “I didn’t even use the favour, yet. You threw away your sacrifice and I called dibs. Finders keepers. You know the rule.”   “Where is he?!” You ignore her, frantically marching closer, past the carpeted path until your feet echo on the cold cobblestone. “Where is he, Miyin?!”   The male slides himself in the way before you can rip his sister’s face off. His expression is impassive, yet his palms are open as if he’s attempting to placate you. “Y/N.”   “Don’t you lay a finger on me, Yoongi.” You had followed him here and it’s the only reason you didn’t get lost in this maze of a hellhole, but right now you couldn’t appreciate his presence one bit. “Touch me and I swear to the gods—”   Miyin sighs and rubs her temples. “You idiot, he’s standing right there.”   Your entire body whips around, neck turning, eyes growing wide, and you nearly trip on your feet and slam onto the ground when you run over to him. “Taehyung!”   A cheeky smile spreads into his cheeks, staring at you, the way you grab onto him with a tight grip and how glassy your eyes have gotten. He missed you. He missed you a lot.   “What did you do to him?!”   “Nothing.” She glides towards her throne, sitting down and waving her hand like she’s dismissing everyone. “Your toy isn’t fun at all, Y/N. I don’t want him anymore.”   “He isn’t someone you can have!” you shout at her, standing in front of him with your arms open like you’re defending him. Taehyung can’t help but grin, completely enamoured with each of your actions, unable to look away. You’re too cute. “He’s mine! My sacrifice. Mine.”   “Alright, alright. I get it. Can you just please have your sweet little reunion elsewhere? It’s sickening. Take him and for the love of all gods, don’t return.” She claps her hands twice, causing her servant to flounder into the middle of the court. “You. Escort them.”   Sihyuk nods with his head lowered, never looking anyone in the eyes and he gestures towards you. “Y-y-y-your royal highnesses…”   “I still have to talk to my...dear sister.” Yoongi’s done with this mess and especially with his chaotic sibling, but he lingers behind, still having a few issues to address. He wants to speak privately, at least considering the way he turns to you. “Y/N?”   “We’re not done here, Miyin,” you warn her with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t over.”   “Well it is for me.” She sighs for the tenth time. “Just go. Leave me in peace, alright? Your pet has already shaved a thousand years off my life. I don’t want to see his face again. Take him back. Please.”   You scowl at her before shifting slightly to pinch Taehyung’s sleeve. You drag him with you as his irises sparkle with amusement, stupid smile still plastered on his face. As you pass Yoongi, the god lifts his brows and comments, “Do you even know how to leave this place?”   A mere scoff leaves your mouth.   Taehyung is dragged out of the room like a puppy scolded by their owner, but still too excited from that owner’s return to know the consequences. You don’t say a single word towards him, never once glancing back. And then the throne room doors shut with a bang.   //   No god is to be underestimated. Each have their own flaws and powers. They are made to be feared. Yoongi’s personally witnessed his sister’s fury and has been on the forefront of her fluctuating temper. She once turned a woman’s head of hair into snakes, made an adulterous man engage in intercourse until his...extremity fell off, made her servant dig up graves with his bare hands, the list is endless. Yet, despite Kim Taehyung stomping all over the goddess’ dignity and ego, he was still able to walk out alive, with his extremities fully in-tact.   And in a way, his biggest wish was fulfilled anyhow without any bad repercussions.   “That was pretty generous of you,” Yoongi muses.   “What do you mean?” She throws her hair behind her shoulders, fluttering her lashes.   “I’ve seen you curse people in a worst way for a lot less.”   Miyin shrugs with a mischievous smile. “I can understand why Y/N wants to keep him around. I’m quite fond of him….if it wasn’t for the way he disrespected me. But he is an honourable human man. Oddly so.”   Yoongi hums, eyes lingering to the door and where Taehyung had previously stood.   The human gave up the existence of power and the ability to cheat death. Not many would have declined such an opportunity — it was nearly impossible to refuse. Yet, he had done it.   And in a way, even if Taehyung didn’t end up turning into a god, he was still somewhat of a hero.   While you are the Goddess of the Sky, Taehyung has what you need...   He is the Controller of the Sky.

The moment you return to your home, Hyowon and Kayee are all over you in hysterics. But they see who you’ve dragged behind with you and they’re relieved. After all, the sky is completely clear, a vivid azure painting across the horizon. There’s no reason for them to be up in arms anymore. As for Taehyung, you don’t send him back to Earth again. You don’t even yell or scream at him. You do nothing. You shun him, granting nothing but your angry silence.   “Y/N…” This time he’s the one who tugs on your sleeve. “Talk to me…”   You turn to your left, admiring the roses that’s petals are overflowing. And then your vision is blocked by a rectangular grin, the human leaning over and invading your personal space. “Y/N.”   It’s so entirely disrespectful for a mortal to call you without any proper titles and just your name. But you don’t even bother scolding him. He’s ruined all your plans. He’s made your mind turn into pandemonium. And the brat doesn’t even seem bothered by it. “Y/N!”   He pouts exaggeratingly, towering over you in height and cornering you by a tree. “Pay attention to me!”   The human can challenge you however he wants, make you lose your wits, be as annoying as a bug swirling around your head, but if there’s something he should know, it’s how stubborn you can be. You’re dead set on ignoring his existence until he dies peacefully in this place.   … ..   Except, ignoring him is much harder than you expected.   “Did anything happen when you were there?” Kayee asks as he tugs the curtains and pulls open the window casually. “It must’ve been a real surprise. The Goddess of the Underworld is quite fearsome. You weren’t afraid, were you? Or did you get hurt at all?”   The short man looks over at his companion and nudges him. Hyowon clears his throat and agrees, “How did she take you in the first place? I thought you returned safely to your land.”   “Hmm, I did.” Taehyung grins. “But tell Y/N that if she wants to know so badly, she should ask me instead of sending other people to.”   A minute later, the sky becomes cloudy.   To your dismay, Taehyung is much too amused with the situation and your behaviour. He’s sure you’re pouting like a petulant child. You’ve pretty much resorted to locking yourself in. And he knows that you know exactly what you want, but you’re too embarrassed to ask for it. He knows...and that’s why he takes the first step forward.   “Y/N?” Taehyung lingers outside the garden house, leaning his body over as if you could hear him better. The doors are locked and the windows are shut tightly. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was empty. “Y/N? I have a gift for you. You want it?”   Nothing happens.   “I have something important to say,” the human presses on. “Come out.”   Nothing.   He takes a step closer and another, fingers itching to rip the paper door down, but then suddenly a gust of wind stronger than he could even imagined possible blows him back. It’s a tornado that cards through his hair, making it hard to open his eyes, ripping through his mouth and physically making him shuffle back. “Y/N!”   Taehyung screams your name and dark clouds roll over the horizon as if warning him not to go any further. It is the weather of frustration, of worry, of anxiousness all brewed into one storm.   The sky begins to go berserk, thunder and lightning, threats of rain but none that fall. Hyowon and Kayee are running around like headless chickens, heads knocked back, eyes searching for the sun they cannot see. “Taehyung, please,” Hyowon begs him, and even Kayee tells him to stop.   But he won’t.   It’s too important. He has to say it now before he dies of anticipation.   And Taehyung knows there’s one last thing he can do. One fatal flaw of all the gods.   Their pride.   “You’re such a coward!” He shouts above the winds with a grin plastered on his face. His feet stay rooted in the ground no matter how hard the weather tries to push him away. “You’re a great god?! Yeah right! You can’t even face a human like me! You’re scared, that’s what you are!”   “You abandoned me! You sent me back to land?! You thought that was a good idea? Well it wasn’t! I know you didn’t want to send me back! I saw the rain! You cried for days and days! I bet you couldn’t stop, huh?” Taehyung’s having too much fun insulting you and teasing you.   In the meanwhile, Hyowon and Kayee have their jaws dropped and they’re shouting, but it’s fruitless when the former is hugging a tree trunk and the latter has grabbed onto the edge of the porch, scared their little bodies will be blown away and they’ll fall to a tragic death.   “What? Do you think I’ll leave you? Well, I got news for you, lady. I’ll be staying here for a long time! And don’t worry, I’ll make you happy. I’ll make you sad enough times too!” He can’t hear himself when the wind is whistling violently in his ears. “So come out, you coward of a god!”   It’s the last straw.   Suddenly, the doors burst open, nearly falling from their hinges and you’re standing on your feet, chest rising and falling, sharp breaths stolen from your lips. Your eyes are blown in wrath, hair whipping with the winds. “How dare you?!”   A smile spreads through his face when he finally sees you.   “Do you know who I am?! I am the Goddess of the Sky! I am the Goddess of the Weather. I—”   “I love you.”   There is silence. All at once, everything dies down. The clouds halt in their place, letting the sunlight pierce through the grey. The winds vanish, letting down Hyowon and Kayee, stopping flowers from being ripped from their beds. The atmosphere no longer vibrates.   He watches you with a hopeful smile, breath hitched, gaze locked on yours.   Then, out of nowhere, there’s a sound of something dripping.   At first, it’s a single drop and then another, another, before turning into a soft pitter-patter. It hits against the stone path, the pavilion, the flower beds, the roof of the garden house and against the castle ceilings in the distance. It’s gentle, like someone who is beginning to cry. Taehyung lifts his head at the endless horizon, welcoming and embracing the droplets on his face.   It’s warm rain.   “I love you,” he repeats with a wide grin.   Kim Taehyung is transfixed. He’s captivated and enchanted like none other.   It’s beautiful. When tears drip off your lashes and down your face, and the rain pours, he can’t tell if they are droplets from the sky or if they’re you’re soft sobs. Yet, Taehyung finds beauty within the way the raindrops thump against the rooftops in a constant rhythm, comforting during the nights he’s able to find sleep. When you laugh, the sun seems to shine brighter until it’s blinding. The illuminating beams golden in colour and intensify, painting the universe in warmer hues. He can never seem to look away.   And right now, the sunlight was pouring down, hitting you at all the right angles, giving you the softest of glows. The rain was warm, clinging to his lashes, skimming along his skin in most comforting embraces. And you gave him the cheesiest, silliest of smiles.   Taehyung was never a sacrifice for the sky — he is the lonely sky’s protector.

Epilogue   You nudge him.   He doesn’t stir and you nudge him harder. By the fifth nudge, Taehyung is shoved off the mattress with a harsh whimper. His hair is sticking up in every direction, and he lifts his head. His bleary eyes barely manage to open and the narrow slits point towards you. His hoarse voice comes out. “What’s wrong?”   “Nothing.” You smile at him, watching as he rubs his eyes and runs a hand over his face.   It’s the middle of the night, the entire palace put in silence, Kayee and Hyowon probably snoring away in their own rooms. Taehyung rolls on the floor twice before rising into a sitting position. You squat down to connect your eyes, mischief lingering in your eyes. “You want to sneak out?”   A sheepish smile overtakes his visage, and he sleepily lolls his head forward until it’s rested on your shoulder. “Where?” Taehyung manages to mumble with his gruff timbre.   “The human realm.”   The minute the location leaves your mouth, it has his head bolting up, eyes open and wide awake. Taehyung scrambles to get dressed before he takes in how you’re covered from head to toe with a black cloak, hood even hiding your eyes. “Are we even allowed?”   “Psh, don’t you know who I am? The Goddess of Weather. No one can stop me.”   Yet, your words seem to contradict when you end up pulling him out of his room, acting like teenagers as you slink in the shadows, holding your breaths, staying silent. When he steps on a floorboard that squeaks too much, you whip your head over, cringing. It’s amusing how you can be afraid of Hyowon and Kayee, but he thrives on the adrenaline and the rush of sneaking off with you.   The lights to the library are on and when the sliver of luminescence hits Taehyung’s face and he steals a peek, he realizes it’s Hyowon who’s fallen asleep in the armchair with a book in his lap.   The short man stirs for a moment when Taehyung takes a step past. Hyowon stirs again and then yawns, stretching out his limbs. The two of you outside the room have frozen in your spots, pressed against each other as you watch your servant begin to get up from the chair.   That’s when you grab Taehyung’s hand, fingers latching onto his, palms clasping together…   And you book it.   He can’t help the tiny giggles that spill from his mouth. By the time the pair of you have reached outside, gasping for the fresh air, you’re both laughing with each other, barely holding the other person up. It’s crazy, but you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather be crazy with.   You two travel across the gardens towards the bridge, entering the mist with hands interlaced.   ... ..   “I haven’t been here in so long.” Your eyes are searching for the forest, feeling the luscious grass beneath your body. Technically, this is the first time you’ve ever been in this lifetime. But you also know vaguely from your spotty memory and the records Hyowon has read that you’ve been to the mortal realm a little over a century ago.   Taehyung stands up, putting out his hand and you take it, letting him bring you to your feet. You’re in the same place where Taehyung was after you forcibly sent him back; in the middle of nowhere, the thick woods that seem endless, grand trees that tower above you. Yet, instead of feeling bitter about the memory, Taehyung’s overjoyed that you’re here with him.   “When was the last time?”   “A bit before the war.” You dust off your cloak, letting him lead the way out of the forest since he’s been here before. “I wasn’t allowed to come back during or after the war.”   Taehyung reaches out to hold your hand and he laces his fingers between yours. “Why not?”   “Oh, someone made me mad and I accidentally struck him with lightning,” you mention nonchalantly and his brows raise, eyes staring at your profile. “It’s not a big deal, but apparently that human wasn’t anyone either. He was a very important general. Some general of the Midland…”   “You mean, Minseok, General of the Midland Wars?” When you say ‘something like that’ and you laugh, Taehyung’s face pales. Now he understands why you were banned from here. “You won’t get into any trouble?”   “Nah….probably not.” Well, that’s super reassuring. But before Taehyung can ask anymore questions, you stop and gasp, pulling him in a different direction. “Look it’s the sunrise!”   Above the small hill is a clearing, enough to see the sky and the watercolours of mandarin and rose bleeding together. The beams of golden sparkling light rises over the horizon, piercing the few fluffy clouds that are scattering around. You two watch the quiet sunrise together, leaning on each other, hands still held together. The forest is put in a serenity, animals awakening, birds still stirring and not yet chirping. It’s peaceful and within ten minutes, it’s sunny and bright outside.   “Seokjin still does a good job,” you muse. “Looks like he won’t lose his job any time soon.”   Soon, you’re led to the nearest town. No one recognizes Taehyung, of course. This time he isn’t wandering around starving, wearing rags, hair drenched like he just went swimming. But instead of relishing in the bustle of the streets, the numerous street vendors, the crowd of people just like him weaving in and out, he spends his time staring at you.   You have to admit you’re overwhelmed. You’re fascinated, curiosity piqued, your eyes beginning to hurt because your pupils are darting everywhere, trying to take everything in. Every noise and every smell has your head swiveling over and Taehyung is reduced to being dragged along.   “What’s that?” You point and he squeezes your hand, making sure not to let go since he’s afraid he’ll lose you in the horde of people.   “It’s a honey bun. It’s similar to bread. Do you want some?”   “I don’t know. Looks sort of good.” You shrug and when you turn your head, you gasp, pulling him to the other stand and pointing at the sparkling, red hanging thing. “What’s that?”   “It’s a paper lantern,” he tells you. “People decorate it sometimes.”   “And that?”   “They’re leather loafers.”   “How fascinating. And what about that?”   Taehyung’s not sure if you’re paying attention to him, realizing that he’s holding your hand, walking alongside you. At the moment, he feels more like a book of definitions or a glossary of some sort. He doesn’t mind so much though, he just enjoys how hyperactive and excited you are.   “Move out of the way,” a stranger grunts and collides his shoulder with yours, shoving past.   You’re pushed, stumbling before Taehyung catches you. Not a second later, you’re whirling around. “How dare you?! Do you know who I am?! I am the Go—”   Your human companion slaps a hand over your mouth and lugs you away before the brute can turn around in fury and ask you who the hell you think you are. He brings you near an alleyway and you peel Taehyung’s palm off of you. “What was that?!”   “You can’t get into any fights,” he chides you. He knows if push comes to shove, he could probably knock anyone out for you with his fists, but if a fight ensues, then your emotions will become deranged and the weather would follow. Not only would Hyowon and Kayee lose their minds but the consequences of the council probably wouldn’t be pretty. He’d rather save you that pain.   “But...but..” You pout and your eyes trail elsewhere, off to the other side of the street way towards the other opening of the alley. There are two people giggling and tugging each other, looking much like you and Taehyung, but then they do something that ignites your interest.   “Taehyung,” you call him affectionately and your head quirks to one side. “….what are they doing?”   He follows your line of sight to the road across and immediately, his skin flushes, eyes growing wide before he tears his gaze away. “They’re...uh...kissing each other.”   Oh. You’ve seen Miyin and the other gods smooch each other, but you never paid no mind to it. They were wild and mindless when indulging in pleasure. You didn’t think it was a human thing too.   “What’s it for? I mean...what does it do?”   “It’s a gesture…” Taehyung’s cheeks heat up immensely and he swallows hard, eyes momentarily flickering to your soft lips. “...to show someone you love them.”   “Oh, okay. I see,” you nod, finally looking back at him. Seems like you’re content with his answer, and he’s ready for you to take off again. But then you reach up and his breath is literally stolen right from his lips. Taehyung remains still, eyes open, caught off guard when you kiss him.   It’s a chaste brush of your mouth upon his, delicate and gentle. It’s soft, full of hesitancy like you aren’t sure you’re doing any of this right or maybe you’re completely wrong. You aren’t even touching him, but he can feel the warmth of your skin spread throughout his own body.   When you part, your lashes flutter a few times and you steal a peek at him. “Um...—”   But you don’t get the chance to say anything. Not when Taehyung’s arm instantly wraps around your waist, pressing you against the small of your back, and he pulls you in for another kiss.   Like a man starved, he ravishes you with his lips. You squeak against him in surprise and a groan spills from where your mouth meets his as if you’re trying to whimper his name and it only eggs him on. He kisses you and kisses you deeply, moving his lips against yours and tasting everything you have to offer. Taehyung’s eyes remain slightly open, watching as you melt in his embrace, the way your brows loosen, how you’re reduced into a sheepish mess.   He can’t help himself, can’t help how eager he is, how aggressive he’s become, pushing his body against yours until your back hits the stone wall. Your lifted hand eventually touches his shoulder, fingers uncurling to touch him, yet another whimper sounding from your throat. It’s hot and breathy and by the time you’ve both parted from each other, your mouths are bitten and red, and you’re gasping for breath.   “Um...I…”   The sky is blazing with sunlight, sky such a vivid shade of azure that it’s blinding. There’s a soft tinge of pink to the clouds, the same shade made on his cheeks. Taehyung’s gaze is piercing yours, intense, and it makes you divert your vision elsewhere, still panting.   “Come on.” Taehyung takes your hand, holding it again and he leads you out of the alley with a stupidly big smile on his face. You only nod along, letting him pull you away. ‘Let’s go.”   //   The next interesting thing you see, you don’t hesitate to ask.   “What’s that?” Though, by the time the question leaves you, you kind of already know the answer. There’s a young girl walking alongside another man in fancy attire, both stealing glimpses of each other with repressed smiles. A whole band of people follow them and the priest leads the entire line. It’s a celebration. It’s a—   “Wedding,” he says. “It’s a wedding.”   Unlike kisses, you know weddings well. A lot of gods wed to each other, more for political and harmony purposes than because of any feelings or emotions. Usually they are only husband and wife in name and seeked pleasures elsewhere. After all, the idea of having only one partner for the rest of eternity sounded like a horrid punishment to most.   While you might agree that the human idea of monogamy is absolutely constricting and suffocating to you, right now, you couldn’t deny you were...interested.   “Hey…” You tug on your held hands, fingers tapping the back of his hand.   “Hmm?” Taehyung moves his eyes away from the scene towards you.   “What if we got married?”   If you’re going to be with him for the rest of your days and his, then it makes sense to get married. Plus, in that way, the other gods will know exactly who he belongs to and no one like Miyin can ever lay her hands on him again. You’re still bitter at the thought of her.   At first Taehyung’s caught off guard and then he’s not sure why he’s shocked after all the activities of today. He explains that usually family and friends gather, and they ask permission from parents first. You merely shrug, telling him you have no family, except for Kayee and Hyowon. When you ask him if you need to ask his mom, he laughs and shakes his head.   “Excuse me…” Taehyung approaches the priest in the temple.   He turns, eyes glancing at the human and then you whose face is covered by a hood. It’s not like he would ever recognize you anyways. Technically, Seokjin could go prancing out on the road and no one would ever suspect he’s a god...except they’d oogle at his good looks. Those thoughts brushed aside, the priest clears his throat.   “What is it that you need?”   You lift your interlaced hands up, beaming with the biggest of grins. There’s no need for a big party or celebration. You don’t need for fancy clothing or a feast to accompany the ceremony. All you want and need is already right here. “Can we be wedded too?”   The priest is taken back by the abrupt request. You and Taehyung exchange smiles, laughing with each other, embracing the spontaneity of it all.   //   When Kayee and Hyowon awake from their slumber, they find the place strangely quiet. It wasn’t typical for it to be so peaceful. They even share a cup of tea together in the kitchen, relishing in the serenity until they realize just how bizarre it is. Usually they can hear Taehyung’s obnoxious laughter or your giggles or your shouts, scoldings and his whining. There’s always someone chasing someone else around here.   And when Kayee expresses this thought, they both go running.   “They’re not in the garden house! Or the garden!”   “Well I searched both floors of the palace. There’s nothing! Oh gods!”   If there was still hair on their heads, not being pulled out by fistfuls or falling from stress, then it’s all turned into shades of grey. The only way they know you’re safe is by how bright and cloudless the sky is, but that doesn’t help with anything else. They’re losing their minds, wondering how they got into the position of being your guides and helpers, wondering where you and Taehyung were.   It’s not until evening that you appear from over the bridge.   “Where were you?!” Hyowon is shrieking, throwing away all thoughts of respect away, looking at you two up and down and making sure you’re still all in one shape.   Kayee is out of breath, having ran all the way to the gardens and your two servants stare up at you, eyes wide for an answer or response to where you disappeared off to for the entire day.   You only smile at them, cheeks aching from laughing all day. The sun nearly blinds all of them. “Oh, you know, we went to the human world...and oh yeah…” You lift your held hands, fingers still laced together, and a simple band decorating your ring fingers. “We got married.”   “WHAT?!”

Life with Taehyung is something you cannot find words to describe.   The air feels less lonely, less crisp then it used to. Of course, as bright and sunny as most days are, he’s stupidly frustrating enough to make the sky pour of rain every so often. As afraid as you are of what will happen in the future, of how things will change in the kingdom of Heaven and the mortal realm, Taehyung reassures you and gives you a peace of mind.   You’re still not sure why he has the sword that Miyin gave him, you’re not even sure why he swings it around in his free time but it’s amusing to watch. You don’t know what exactly happened in the Underworld when he was out of sight, but something inside tells you there’s nothing to worry about.   Taehyung will be here for a long time.   And even if something were to happen, even if your husband and you are parted, you have a feeling that everything will be fine. He’ll be here. As long as you cherish the many days that are left to come.   “Can you stop moving so much?” He turns to you, rolling over on his side and speaking up in the darkness when the covers won’t stop rustling.   “I can’t!” You laugh giddily. “I’m still too excited to sleep.”   Laying beside him was doing too much to your heart and you’re sure the weather was chaotic outside right now, much to the other gods’ dismay. Yet, Taehyung doesn’t seem to care when he lifts himself on one elbow and cowers over you, getting closer and closer.   “You know…” His tone drops until it’s low and raspy. “We still have to consummate the marriage.”   You freeze, breath stopping, finally halting in movement. And he laughs, taking the liberty to reach down and plant a soft kiss on your lips. It was ridiculous how much you love him.   Instead of blue, the sky might turn into a permanent shade of rose.

[g-idlescenarios]

(g)-idle: First Kisses ~

anon request:  OMG this is the kind of blog this world needed ;;; Could I request lil first kiss imagines with each of them? 💕

Soyeon

“Come to this party with me - you can meet the members officially!” Her voice turned cutesy, trying to persuade you into coming to a Cube Christmas Party.  “I don’t know, I’m not an idol or a trainee... would they let me in?” “Don’t make excuses babe, I’ve got a plus one! I’ll pick you up at 7.”  Reluctantly, you got dressed and did your make-up.  When Soyeon arrived, she wasn’t expecting you to look so beautiful.  It shocks her every time.  You explained your nerves about meeting the other members and her friends from the company.  “Please don’t be nervous - I’ve told them so much about you that they basically know you already.”  Meeting each member was an absolute breeze, that it completely washed away the nervousness you felt this afternoon.  You found yourself laughing and joking with them in no time.  You were so distracted, that you failed to notice Soyeon staring at you with such heart eyes.  She hadn’t realized how nervous she was too for you to meet the members.  It was important for you guys to get along, even though she knew you would.  So this is love, she thought.  After letting you meet the members, she grabbed your hand and pulled you to go dance with her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle, enjoying the music and her body meshed against yours.  Instead of answering, her right hand snakes up your body to hold your cheek, and kisses you softly.  The kiss lasts for a couple seconds, before you pull away with a smile. “I’m glad you came tonight,” she smiled. “That makes two of us,” you grin, pulling her closer to do it again.

Miyeon

Miyeon and you had made plans to go on a picnic this afternoon, but neither of you were sure if this is a date.  “IT’S A DATE!” The members had told her over and over again; yes, her crush, you, also had a crush on her.  You two were the only ones that couldn’t see it.  You decided to meet at the Han River, since she’s been wanting to show you one of her favourite places in Seoul.  “I came here a lot when I was a trainee, isn’t is calming?”  She asked you as you both set up the food. “Thanks for bringing me here, it’s so lovely.”  You two continued to eat, talk, laugh, and slowly but surely move closer and closer to each other on the blanket.  A small scooch here, a slight shuffle there, and somehow your legs were touching.  Both of you tried to subtly display some sort of affection to figure out what this was - you’d touch her thigh, she’d tuck a strand of hair out of your face.  Your heart was pumping and her hands were clammy.  I should make a move soon, she thought, before I talk myself out of it.  “I have a surprise for you,” she smiled, “close your eyes.” You did, and she quietly reached into her bag to pull out cupcakes - your favourite flavour.  The smile on your face made it worth every penny.  “Oh wait, you’ve got a little something on your lips...” A bit of icing rested on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll get it.” Without thinking, she leaned over to hold your chin, and was suddenly kissing you.  It was short and quick, and you both pulled away in shock.  You two couldn’t look away as a shy “I’m sorry,” came from her lips.  “Are you sure you got all of it? I think I still feel some...” you smirk, as she gets the hint to kiss you again.  FINALLY, someone made a move.

Minnie 

Your girlfriend and you had spent all of December 31st looking for smoking hot, bomb-ass dresses to wear to the New Year’s Eve party your friend was hosting at their place the next day.  “What about this one?” “Oh, we need one with more glitter!”  A shopping date was something you did regularly, but today you both felt an exciting jolt of energy that only comes from the New Year. “This will be our last date and first date of 2019!” You said in passing while searching threw the racks, but the comment stuck with Minnie.  She had an idea!  Fast forward to the party, you both meet up early to get ready.  “Are you okay Minnie, you seem a bit nervous?” You ask as the two of you do your make-up in the mirror. “I’m fine!”  At the party, you both dance and eat and sing, and get slightly tipsy. Minnie watched you from across the room dance with your friend, and couldn’t help but feel a little envy... you were here with her, weren’t you?  As she walked over to you, people began to count down.  Neither of you had realized that it was so close to midnight, and your head snapped up in surprise, quickly scanning the party for your girlfriend.  She walks quicker towards you and you match her pace. 10, 9, 8!  “Babe,” she says a little breathless. 7, 6, 5! “Minnie, I-” 4, 3, 2! Before you can finish the clock strikes 12, and Minnie pulls you close to her.  She pushes her lips on yours with a bit of force, one filled with passion.  You kiss for what seems like minutes, making out in the middle of the dance floor.  As you both break the kiss, breathless, the celebration seems to fade into the background, the only thing you can see is Minnie; her lips red and swollen from you. “Happy New Year,” you whisper, resting you forehead against hers. “Happy New Year, baby.”

Soojin

“Ugh!” An aggravated huff comes from across the studio, where your crush Soojin monitors her dance on her phone.  “I can’t seem to get these steps,” she sighs, making her way over to you on the couch.  “You don’t look that bad to me,” you try to keep calm as she sits right next to you, your thighs touching.  “That’s because you’re not a dancer, you loser.” She often teases you like this, making fun of you in a playful way.  But this time you weren’t gonna take it... “Fine then. Teach me it so I can critic you properly.”  Soojin’s eyes snap open, and a chuckle escapes her mouth.  “Oh please, that would take eons.” “I’m serious!” you exclaim, “they always say the best way to get something is to teach it to others... I will be ‘others’ tonight. C’mon, get up!” She laughs from the couch as you take off your sweater and begin to wiggle around, stretching out your limbs. “Hm. Fine... but only because I think this will be a disaster.”  Slowly but surely, Soojin teaches you the choreography.  And you’re both pleasantly surprised when you’re not half bad.  Most of the night is spent giggling and mocking you.  “No, here,” Soojin stands against your back as she guides your arm around your head.  You thanked God that the dancing explained your pounding heart.  The turn was the hardest part of the routine, and when trying to follow along to the music, your clumsy ass trips over your own feet. “Soojin!” You call out, before she attempts to catch you... but you both end up going down together.  Your laughter fills the room as she falls on top of you. “Ugh, Y/N!” She whines, looking down at you.  You looked so cute under her, with that stupid smile of yours on your face.  You both looked into each other’s eyes for a moment too long, and the butterflies in your stomach grow.  “Sorry,” you mutter quietly.  In response, Soojin dips down, hovering her lips over yours.  “That’s okay.”  The kiss was long and drawn out, conveying that she was having a great time teaching you... even if you were a klutz.  

Yuqi

"We’re going to the carnival tonight! Get ready!” You bounced into the girls’ dorm, as your girlfriend let you in.  “Tonight?” “Tonight!”  After a little pep talk, you got Yuqi into a cab and on your way to the carnival.  “I haven’t been to one of those since I was young!” “I don’t think I’ve ever been to one before,” she admits once you get there. WHAT!? “Alright Miss Song - you’re going to get the entire carnival experience!”  You take her to get some food truck snacks, to the fun fair booths, and carnival games.  At some point, she wins you a heart shaped plushy, and you both buy fun animal-themed head bands.  As the sun begins to go down, you drag her towards the Ferris wheel.  “This is a must! Especially at sunset, you can see the city from up there.” In line, you recount stories from your childhood about you and your friends going together.  She admires you from behind, a smile spreading across her face as she listens to you.  “Alright, the next two please!” The worker calls to you guys, and Yuqi and you step into the basket hand-in-hand.  As you begin to creep up the wheel, Yuqi notices that you’ve become visibly more tense.  “Babe, what’s wrong - you’re afraid of heights!” She remembers quickly, throwing her arm around your shoulder. “Yeah, but you’re not... I want you to see the view from up here!”  “You’re unbelievable,” she smiles, pulling you closer to her chest.  “Close your eyes, and I’ll tell you when we can see the city.”  After a couple minutes, you hear her ask you to open your eyes.  And as you promised, the view was beautiful.  “Wow,” she sighs, holding you close. “Isn’t it nice?” You smile.  She turns to you, and smirks: “I know something prettier...” And before you can answer, she’s kissing you.  Her touch is tender and gentle, the peck ending almost too soon for both of you.  “Now you’ve got another carnival memory to tell your friends,” she laughs. 

Shuhua

"That kiss is so completely un-real-istic!” You place emphasis on the last word.  “What do you mean, it’s romantic!” Shuhua laughs at your disdain.  You had never seen any of the Spider-man movies, and Shuhua wasn’t gonna have that.  At the scene of the famous upside-down kiss, you both laughed and argued about whether or not that would be satisfying and worth the effort.  “Like that cannot be comfortable, look at the angle of his neck! He’s bloody hanging from the sky!”  You suddenly position yourself so that your head is hanging off the edge of the couch, with your feet up in the air.  “Look at this Shuhua, my freaking head already hurts, how did they even do this.”  As you groan on and on, Shuhua finds herself falling for you all over again.  This crush of hers was getting to an unbearable point.  Watching you rant was something she always found entertaining, but it was never about something she’d dreamed about before.  If you so wanted to disprove this kiss scene, fine, she’d play along.  “They have to like, break their necks Shuhua, ouch.”  She moved herself to the floor, so that she could be face to face with you.  “Let’s try it then.”  Her hands went to your cheeks, and she kissed your lips.  A small gasp left your mouth, which she only took as more encouragement to hold the kiss as long as she could.  After a moment, she pulls away, and smiles down at you.  “I think that worked pretty well, what do you think?” You slowly stutter your words, not sure what to say. “If Peter felt at all the way I feel about you, I’d say any position would make a kiss perfect.” You smile shyly as she helps you sit up.  “Wanna try again?”  The movie is soon forgotten, replaced with kisses and snuggles. 

I hope you like this anon, thanks for the support xx.

[anahera-sdm]

Hotel Del Luna (2019) Thoughts

Warning: will contain spoilers. I suggest you watch the drama first to relate with what I’m talking about because it will be messy.

Disclaimer: Everything written only reflects my own thoughts. There’s a possibility of incoherence. Forgive me, sometimes my brain is all over the place.

Ever since IU was announced as a main lead for this drama, I have been looking forward to it. I have enjoyed IU’s other dramas especially her most recent one in Netflix - Persona. Yeo Jin goo is an actor I like but the last drama of his that I was able to finish (and barely at that) was Orange Marmalade (2015). I couldn’t get into his next dramas after that and ended up dropping them. 

After seeing the plot and the fantasy tag (I always have a soft spot for fantasy dramas), as much as I enjoyed and looked forward to new episodes of its predecessor, Arthdal Chronicles, I also could not wait for it to start. 

Additional warning: Everything is all over the place and this is going to be a lengthy post. I wrote everything that I wanted to talk about right after watching the subbed version of the last episode but there is no proper structure. I apologise in advance if you decide to read everything.

I don’t even know where I should start. The Hong Sisters really did well with this drama - the years spent on it was worth it. That ending was, I can’t believe I’m saying this but I was so satisfied even though they didn’t spend much time together in this life. I was expecting a bittersweet ending when the drama started anyway. I loved the ending and that reincarnation scene (although it is not definite but just an ‘eventually, it will end up that way’ scene) was everything to me. I don’t know why but I loved how they didn’t try to extend Man Wol’s time with Chan Seong (example, releasing her from the hotel and making her human again). It was enough for me because Man Wol also spent enough time suffering. Her time with Chan Seong, although brief, was good enough because she experienced the love she needed and she gets sent off full of it.  

That twist at the end though, how Chan Seong was chosen by Mago - I’m crying. Chan Seong was definitely a reincarnation of someone from her past. They were actually acquainted during Man Wol’s childhood - and he was the one who introduced her to the guesthouse of the moon. 

So now, let’s go to the other parts I really wanna talk about.

One of the reasons why I got hooked and invested with Hotel Del Luna was the fact the way they executed the comical elements despite the horror and drama tags. Additionally, the music and the CGI were really well done. The soundtrack really gets me.

The other reasons, well, IU can really pull off Jang Man Wol - a protagonist who can be ruthless, has a slightly bitchy attitude, crooked (but her actions can be justified) and holds a deep resentment. Yet, she has her cute sides too; all the Kim Joon Hyun moments were a sight to see (her obsession for the restaurants he’s been to, enjoyed it! Later we find out her obsession to find good restaurants were actually influenced by Chan Seong who went to the past! Mind blown!). And her fighting scenes were so cool. IU’s eyes are really expressive in my eyes - 

Appreciate.

I love how despite being crude in her ways when it comes to dealing with the grudges of the souls she’s helping, there is an underlying meaning to it - example, Hyun Joong being able to graduate because of the money donated by his friend. And, I can’t blame her for loving money and wealth. After all, that was what she didn’t have when she was living. I have to add that one of the things I look forward to every episode was IU’s outfit changes. She looks so good in everything! [I actually couldn’t stop myself from buying some of the stuff she wore. Hold your horses, I can only afford the cheap ones like the earrings and hair clips from Get Me Bling that she wore. And I wanna do a face palm because I accidentally bought 2 sets for one of her earrings so now I’m like, what do I do with this?]

The bickering between the leads together with that comical/mischievous soundtrack, pure gold. It’s easily one of my favourite moments. It’s just really funny how sometimes Jang Man Wol is left without words because Chan Seong is right.

The more I watch this gif tho, it starts to look weirder to look at so don't watch it more than 10 times.

I also like how they dealt with Man Wol’s back story - not giving the viewers everything in just one episode. Instead, it was spliced and distributed nicely throughout. Oh but gods, I was a wreck when everything was laid down - Chung Myung’s sacrifice... I just can’t. And how he was with her as a firefly since the beginning... My heart... I actually forgot that scene from the beginning until they showed it again. I though it was just an artistic shot. I actually wanted Man Wol to go with him to the afterlife when it was finally time for him to go. When she escorted him, I wanted her to walk with him during that moment. But at the same time, I can see that there was only a one-sided love left between them because Man Wol spent so many years resenting him that there was no love left. When she finally learned the truth, the only thing left in her was forgiveness and that was the only thing she can offer. The CGI on the bridge to the afterlife though, the aesthetic, props to the CGI team.

Can I just talk about how the actor grew on me? Like, omg, I’m now looking forward to any drama he’s going to be on. [Note: I have since seen him in a new drama, The Great Show (I was watching it because of Lee Sunbin (one of my favourite actresses)) and he’s the teen version of the male lead! I screamed when I saw him.] I should check him out on his previous dramas but when I saw the list of dramas, I don’t think I’ll get into them yet.

Help my heart, their story is so sad.

Helping Kim Seonbi /Kim Si Ik solve his grudge was really fun to watch. And the ‘fact’ that he was the writer of those stories almost all Koreans know, what a twist. Man Wol really cared for him despite not showing it to him - how she tried to find a way to solve his grudge and how she cried after he finally left. 

Choi Seo hee’s story was an unfortunate one but it added more flavour to the already flavourful drama. Those who value family ties or still have crooked views when it comes to family lineage will resonate with her story and perhaps have a change of heart.

Hyun Joong; I love how they gave more depth to his story. That it was not only because of his sister that he was staying as a hotel staff but deep inside there was a resentment. When they wrapped his story up, all I can do was to smile wistfully. His story arc with Yuna was a great addition despite their bittersweet goodbye.

The Sanchez story arc; I... I... He was such a fun character and a good friend to Chan Seong. I sincerely thought they were going to get rid of his character when he went overseas to oversee the funeral of his girlfriend. But we got him back and see another side to him - a rather relatable side where if one loses a loved one, they would find ways to reconnect or hold on to any sliver of hope that they’ll be able to once more be able to talk to them or give them something. Probably, not making sense anymore, but if you’ve lost a loved one before, you’ll get what I'm talking about. After finally getting over it, well, he was not the same Sanchez after that but there was growth in his character.

Mira and Young soo. A twist of fate, these two. Enemies in the past life but became lovers in their current life. Their bitter fates became sweeter this time around. I can't entirely hate on Mira’s past life because her next lives were spent repenting (although it wasn’t shown). Her currently life was finally rewarded, if you can call being with Young soo in her current life a reward. I kept on thinking Mira was just like Chan Seong (not a rich person) but I was so surprised to learn her parents were kimchi factory owners and that Young Soo ate those kimchi since young. 

Mago - easily my favourite character. Wait, characters. Because of how many personalities/sisters she has. Really have to give mad props to the actress. She is just so good. Probably my favourite sister has to be the pink sister and then the eldest. It was so funny when they were having a meeting discussing about the new hotel owner and mentioned the ‘poor’ sister still stuck in Joseon dynasty.

Ah, the cameos in this drama. I can’t not cover that.The amount of cameo is just, whoa! This drama is so rich with it. Some really memorable ones to me are: Kim Won hae (as a corrupt mayor), Lee Joon Gi (as an exorcist; Park Il Do hahah, The Guest feels (I ought to make a post on my thoughts about this drama soon); can’t forget the Scarlet Heart feels too), Lee Si Eon (as an astronaut; I couldn't help laugh at the scene), Lee Yi-kyung (as an actor who can’t really act; Waikiki feels!), Kim Joon Hyun (as himself; I screamed because the first few scenes didn't show his face), Park Jin Joo (as an imaginary spirit), Sulli (as the granddaughter of Chairman Wang), Nam Da reum(as a water deity; I really don’t like the fact he’s younger than me; kidding. He’s a talented kid.) Hwang Young Hee (as IU’s previous manager; she’s a really good actress) and Kim Soo Hyun (as the new owner of the hotel; He renamed it Hotel Blue Moon. I’m telling you, I hyperventilated when his scene came. Such a good way to end the drama - at least for me. Hotel Blue Moon as a drama please!)

For the last episode, I wanted to watch it during the actual broadcast time but I actually calculated the time wrongly (thinking I'm 4 hours ahead but actually just 3 hours; good thing I checked the site). I missed the first 25 mins of the actual broadcast. But I eventually re-watched it with subs and came to write this post). I can only understand roughly 80-85% of the dialogue for the raw version but even then, I was bawling - all the goodbyes; it was so sad but so satisfying at the same time because they were sent off really well. From Kim Seonbi’s to Choi Seohee’s. Painful to see the goodbyes but also very heartwarming; how they finally come to resolve their resentments, came to realizations and tied up loose ends - it was so beautiful. The relationship between the Hotel crew was just so precious - Jang Man Wol crying as she realises how she’ll miss them. Feels. Feels. Feels. 

Overall, I learned so many things in this drama and came to certain realisations such as treasuring the time you have with others, don’t take it for granted. One day, when the time to say goodbye comes, you won’t regret anything. Also, even the people who did bad things in their life can have the chance to live a better one in the next once they have paid for those wrongdoings.

This drama was a perfect blend of comedy, drama, horror, fantasy, romance. In terms of food, it satisfied my cravings. Watching this drama was one of the best things that I did this year. As much as I want to talk more about this drama and cover more areas, I should stop here. All in all, I would say, I really loved this drama. I’ll definitely go back to watching this when I have nothing else to watch. P.S. I ought to make a Jang Man Wol inspired look but when I tried, I failed. 

I’ll miss you, Jang Man Wol-ssi.

Rating: 10 / 10

Re-watch value : 10 / 10

Soundtrack : 10 / 10

[96enox-blog]

pool date (woozi)

to a boy i love right now; October 16

A/N: Yeah. I fell in love with Lee Jihoon over the last couple months. Every story in this series will probably show that. Man, I adore him. The dates are important lol. I like chronology. Here we go. Happy 2019! Here’s to a start to my own personal project.

PS: Promise the stories shorten after the first few :D

word count: 1.8k | fluff fluff fluff | also clearly I like pool | and I never name her. | Part 2: October 24

“How is this fun?” she demands as Hansol nudges her into the pub. “This seems like the least fun place you could take me to.”

Hansol snorts as Seungkwan follows them inside. “Oh come on. You’ve been studying non-stop, noona. It’s a good idea to relax a little.”

Her eyes swing around the room. There are four pool tables in the center with booths all along the perimeter. A few people are lined up waiting for drinks at the bar. It smells musky and the lighting is dim except for over the pool tables. It feels like a Western-cowboy movie.

“They’re here already,” Seungkwan says over her shoulder.

“Where?” she asks. Her heart rate picks up at the prospect of meeting new people.

Hansol urges her forward.

Seungkwan had called him to their apartment when she’d walked out of her bedroom and screamed into a pillow on their couch. When she’d calmed down enough to talk, Hansol had gotten out of her that she was stressed about midterm season. So Hansol had instructed that they get dressed (that included Seungkwan) and he would take them somewhere fun.

As she had left the room, she’d overheard the two boys whispering. And at first, she was compliant, going and actually getting dressed even though a little voice nagged her about all the study time she’d be missing. By the time she went out to find Hansol on the couch, she’d changed her mind.

He smiled up at her, but frowned when he saw her expression. “Ah, ah, ah, noona. You aren’t backing out. I’ve already made plans for us. There are people waiting for us.”

“There are who doing what?” she demanded. “I don’t want to see anyone, Hansol.”

“Your outfit says otherwise.”

As they now walk up to a pool table of Hansol’s music major friends, her outfit still feels out of place. Her large hoodie and skinny jeans don’t exactly feel dressed up when the boys look wonderfully casual.

“I’m so not going to enjoy this,” she mutters to Hansol. Despite herself, a smile grows on her face. The tallest one returns it when he sees her. An arm drapes around her shoulders.

“Noona, didn’t think Hansol would be able to get you out here.”

“Nice to see you too, Mingyu,” she grumbles. She leans into him. He’s the only one she’s met before. The three other boys are familiar, because they tend to be around when she goes to find Hansol on campus. The one currently angling to take a shot is dressed similarly to Mingyu in a silk shirt, though his black contrasts Mingyu’s pale pink shirt.

The familiar crack of two pool balls connecting echoes in her ears. She watches the 6-stripe roll into the right corner pocket. The man straightens and high-fives the man standing next to him. Both have equally impassive expressions, though the one who’d just played is considerably shorter than the other men around the table.

“Oh, noona, I don’t think you’ve ever met my roommate,” Mingyu says. The man looks up at Mingyu’s voice. “That’s Jihoon hyung. He’s majoring in music production.”

Jihoon bows his head and takes the water bottle from his partner’s hand so he can play. Mingyu takes it upon himself to introduce the players she doesn’t recognize. “That tall cool guy is Wonwoo hyung. He’s good at games and Jihoon hyung is really competitive, so it’s not really fair that—”

“Shut up, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s deep voice murmurs. Over the music and all the other people playing pool, she’s surprised that his voice rings clear. She hadn’t even noticed his mouth moving. Carefully, he rounds the table, eyeing all the possibilities.

Meanwhile, Mingyu draws her attention away from Wonwoo to a man with brightly coloured hair and a bright smile on his face ready to greet her. His two front teeth remind her of a bunny and she can’t help but reciprocate the smile. “This is Soonyoung hyung. He’s not very good.” He waves towards the pool table. “That’s why we’re losing and the hyungs are going to beat us.”

“You just suck at the game, Gyu,” Jihoon chuckles.

“Noona’s actually really good,” Hansol quips.

“You take my place,” Mingyu encourages. “I’ll play with Hansol and Seungkwanie.”

She bites her bottom lip as Mingyu hands off his pool cue. Jihoon, across the table, notes that the cue is too long for her. Since Wonwoo is still trying to decide at what angle he wants to hit the cue, Jihoon passes his pool cue across the table. She hands Mingyu’s back towards him and Jihoon heads towards the far wall where there are others. She tosses the pool cue between her hands and finds it’s a little too heavy for her liking. She glances at Wonwoo who still hasn’t taken his shot yet.

Soonyoung is apparently on her train of thought. “Wonwoo, stop taking eons. Let’s go.”

She joins Jihoon at the cue rack. He glances over at her as she walks up. “Still too long?”

“I tend to use a lighter one,” she admits. She hands it back to him. Jihoon studies it and watches her try two others before picking the latter. She inspects the tip and shrugs.

“You play pool often?” Jihoon asks.

She shakes her head as they make their way back to the others. “I honestly haven’t played in a while.”

Hansol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu have bought a beer for everybody. As she’s not into drinking and Jihoon has to be up early for a class the next day, they pass on the alcohol.

“More for us then,” Mingyu sings. They’ve taken to a booth across from their pool table. Wonwoo and Soonyoung with a beer in them are useless players, so she and Jihoon have kicked them out.

To make it more interesting, they’ve started betting. So far, he owes her a pizza and she owes him a coffee. It’s getting late and they’re on their last game.

She bends over to line up the cue ball with the striped 4 at the other end of the table. It’s sitting right next to the far left pocket, courtesy of Jihoon’s last shot. She tucks her hair behind her ear, but it tickles her neck. It also doesn’t help that Jihoon’s eyes are following her every move. He was careful at the beginning, careful not to stare, careful not to brush by her. As they’ve played and she’s won and made a few hard shots (and with Hansol and Seungkwan shouting some drunken facts about her), he’s become increasingly more interested.

Sighing, she pushes her cue stick into Jihoon’s hand, as he’s basically standing right next to her. There’s no elastic on her wrist, so she turns to Hansol. “Do you have one of my elastics?”

Hansol pats his pockets and nods. He stretches across Seungkwan and Soonyoung to give it to her. Since becoming friends, he’s learned to carry a spare on him for when she forgets them for lab or if she has a test. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail and sighs in relief. Rather than lining up herself and the ball again, she trusts her judgement and hits the cue.

The crack is satisfying and she watches, with a smirk, the ball fall right into the pocket. The cue ball bumps into the edge before rolling back to the center of the table. Jihoon has given her a few free shots by knocking the cue ball in after his own solid. She smiles and turns to Jihoon. “I have the 8 ball left, Jihoon. I think you’re gonna have to owe me delivery after all.”

“Hyung, don’t let her smack talk you,” Mingyu calls.

Snorting, she meets the man’s eyes. Mingyu is grinning stupidly, as he has since consuming his second beer.

“If that’s your best smack talk, I think I’ll be fine,” Jihoon snorts.

“I don’t really talk smack. I let my play prove how good I am.”

Jihoon tips his head, unable to argue with her there. She can’t get the 8-ball in one shot, so she rolls it near a pocket out of Jihoon’s way and lets him play. While he’s been checking her out, she’s been doing the same in return. And she has to admit that his butt isn’t bad to look at.

Now, he wiggles it a little, knowing she’s staring.

Maybe it’s that sip of beer from Hansol that has eased her nerves a little. Or she’s already too warm in this room that she can’t feel her embarrassment anymore.

Jihoon knocks three of his solids into various pockets. He sinks his last one and then straightens up, standing across the billiard table from her. “I bet you one date.”

She blinks in surprise at this turn of events. The boys can all hear him and hoot from their spots in the booth. Jihoon ignores them. “If I sink the 8-ball in this next shot, you owe me a date.”

As he was playing, he’d bumped the 8-ball out of alignment. To get it into any pocket from its position right now would be difficult. Jihoon is a mediocre player at best and she knows she’s better than him at the game.

Dating good looking musical types scares her though, so saying yes here would either be bad or worse news for her. Bad if she doesn’t get the date, worse if she does. So she nods. “Okay, deal.”

Jihoon smiles and her heart melts a little. The boys have gotten up, drinks in hand, to stand around the table as Jihoon lines up his shot. Hansol drapes an arm around her shoulders, mostly because he gets clingy when he’s had a bit too much to drink.

They watch as Jihoon stares hard at the table. Throughout the night, she’s watched his eyes switch from focused to unfocused just from a tilt in his head. He almost looks angry when focused.

Finally, Jihoon bends over to take his shot. The ball knocks against one side, rolls to the other before knocking into the 8-ball. The momentum continues through and pushes the ball away from the closer pocket to the one on the other side. It lands perfectly into it. Mingyu and Soonyoung yelp, running to jump onto Jihoon’s back. He grins across the table at her and Hansol squeezes her shoulder.

Outside the pub, their friends separate to give them time to say goodbye.

“I didn’t think you’d manage that last one,” she tells him honestly, burying her hands into the pockets of Hansol’s jacket.

Jihoon scratches the side of his head. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it either. But you owe me a coffee and a date now.”

“Coffee date on campus tomorrow then?” she asks. “After my midterm.”

Jihoon nods. He holds his phone out to her. She texts herself and feels her phone buzz in her pocket. After passing the phone back, they awkwardly stand there. He shuffles his feet, unsure of how to say goodbye.

Until Mingyu steps in to save them. He loops an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders. “You have class early tomorrow, hyung. We should go.” He steers Jihoon away. Over his shoulder, Mingyu calls, “He’ll see you in his dreams, noona.”

Jihoon’s ducked head indicates embarrassment and she can’t help but laugh.