#the horrors persist but we remain silly

[charlighost]

Oh god every single time the ticking shows up in a fic, you know SOMETHING’S gonna happen…SWSA was the first one that taught me that, firefight was the second 🫠✨ But it still hits like crack nonetheless gosh dang it-

I swear, the play with colours was so fun and terrifying it’s still stuck in my mind dhssjsmdmdksjdksks

‘Two red eyes, two red ears, too much blood’ was such an amazing chapter title, was instantly traumatised by Viper the moment in the arena- that chapter literally spiked my heart rate and had me holding my breath every scene

AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON ‘TICK TOCK TORN TO TATTERS’!!!!-

*bangs desk intensely and starts internally crying/laughing maniacally because that chapter was beautiful despite all the horrors…sips on a bucket full of angst while staring at my ✨marvellous✨ collection of bookmarks…*

Hi curly :] Don't know if this was ever asked before, but

Is there a scene or moment in SWSA that you think about a lot, but nobody seems to talk about it?

Hi Pixel!

Y'all are really great at noticing every moment that I wanted to be impactful, but I think April hasn't been getting enough love.

I'm really fond of the moment when she finds out that Donnie is alive. Vaulting over the couch, the light splitting the room with her shadow down the middle... Her first interaction with Donnie is also one of my favorite things that I've ever written. The whole, "You're a dork," moment is really really sweet. She's been suppressing her grief but she can't hide from her best friend, and I think it's great how she allows herself to let it all out.

I will also admit that I'm just a little disappointed that we don't talk about Alpha and Omega more. One line in chapter 13 that I'm super proud of is

because it was important to me that I show the switch in Donnie. It's a heavy chapter filled with heavy stuff. The impact of that first murder is something Donnie is still dealing with.

I'm also shocked we don't talk about the ticking more. It's a huge thing in multiple chapters (especially the next one heheheheeee). And my use of colors, especially red. Leo's red mask, Viper's red eyes, the pink cell, Raph's room, Raph, blood, red eared slider, etc. It's such a prevalent thing and I wonder how much people have noticed it.

[charmyesucks]

You know what? I might not be doing better than I did last year but I have a SHIT ton of problems now that I didn't have last year and I'm taking it like a champ.

Like I might not be "happier" but I know DAMN WELL that me one year ago would have been laying on train tracks as a hobby rn, while I'm just here pushing through and still finding the beauty of life.

I might not be happier but I am kinder and more mature and these qualities are just as good, recovery and the path to happiness aren't linear!!!

[joandraws]

Calendar Drawings so far (in case someone wanted an update)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello hello!! I was not expecting requests to be open again so fast, but i am DEVOURING your writing, so i shan't complain!

What about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other mild exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes despite the persisting horrors.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Awe thanks! Have a good day/night too!

.......

"You..you're Poppy's angel..come to save us-"

"Eugh..what the hell happened to you?"

While back in the day, Dogday would've scolded you for using profane language...he finds it understandable considering you discovered him in his....erm..current condition.

The initial shock of seeing him would have anybody from outside the factory deeply disturbed.

But he's surprised that you're not fully freaked out and didn't run away.

Instead you manage to get him out of the Playhouse (while curbstomping a few little critters who tried crawling into his body along the way) and found a safe spot to rest.

Despite his insistence that you should leave him, you point out that he mentioned you saving him earlier.

"When you said "us", I thought that included you, too."

"I-I meant the others. The ones who can still walk..and still have a fighting chance. Look at me, kid. All I'm gonna do is weigh you down."

"....I mean, you are kinda heavy. But I've lifted worse with this grabpack. I got you."

He's confused by how oddly calm you are about everything.

If you were able to get down this far in the facility, you would've had to cross paths with Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, and Miss Delight at some point.

By all accounts, you definitely should've been traumatized at least from seeing all the bloody toys laying around.

Yet you're cool as a cucumber as you try your best to fix him (with assistance from Kissy, Ollie, and Poppy, of course, who are stunned you came out of the Playhouse alive)

Dogday remembers how scared the children were during the Hour of Joy, comforting them as he helped them flee the terror...so to be comforted by a kid now felt strange.

Yet your calm demeanor helps ground him whenever he starts to have a panic attack over Catnap finding him or if he feels like a critter or two is already inside of him, trying to take hold and eat whatever organs he had remaining (but it's just a sensation he feels from time to time).

You snap him out of it by asking rather silly questions.

"What if I stuck a flare in your mouth? Would that deter them?"

"...what? Um...I-I suppose that could work, but hopefully it's not a theory we have to test anytime soon.."

Even if Poppy decided to show you the Hour of Joy tape (which he had to look away from and tried persuading you to do the same), your only reaction is a slight grimace and a simple "damn wtf....you guys think any of those workers were running late or didn't go in that day?"

Dogday is shocked you'd joke at a time like this...but she knows you better and tells him you're just like That(tm).

You do care about them. You do wanna destroy the Prototype and save whoever you can along the way--including him.

It just may take some time for him to get used to your personality.

[needfantasticstories]

Day 1: Helpless

TW: divine possession, slight body horror, traumatic flashbacks

Characters: Sun (Linked Universe), Hylia (The Legend of Zelda)

Divine Disturbance

(Connects to Hidden Heroes)

Zelda lay in bed in her Knight’s Academy dorm, her eyes refusing to stay closed. She stroked the remlit curled at her side and stared at the rafters obscured in shadows above. Only a patch of waning moonlight from the window, pale and ghostly, outlined her room. 

She scratched gently behind the remlit’s floppy ear, smiling despite a twinge of jealousy at its easy rest. She knew, from seventeen years of existing as a mortal girl, that she needed sleep. It would heal her body from the day spent sparring, studying, and running around the islands as a representative of the village council. She needed the rest, but the divine within her resented it.

DO NOT LOSE A MOMENT! ARISE! 

Not again… Hylia, we’re mortal now. We need to rest. Like in the crystal, Zelda thought to her former self, to the enormous ghost that lingered within her. The goddess seemed to grow more persistent every day. She dragged Zelda’s thoughts and emotions into another life at the smallest hints of her old one. A breath of mint or rosemary might send her dancing as she had in courts of old before her feet realized they were moving. It was rather embarrassing during lunch in the dining hall, but luckily Link and Groose began to clap along, causing Pipit and Karane and Fletch to tap their feet somewhat hesitantly too, and by the time Zelda became fully aware of her presence at breakfast and not the leading a Royal Ball, her friends had appeased the questioning stares with generous laughter, as if it was all a joke they had planned. Link bowed and led her to her history tutor before anyone could ask for an explanation,  so it faded into another silly story the others would sometimes joke about at gatherings. Silly, spontaneous Zelda. She did not appreciate the changes in her reputation. She’d rather remain known as “level-headed” and “determined,” especially as an aspiring member of the Council.

She didn’t mind the changes brought on by the goddess’ knowledge when she finally beat both Link and Captain Eagus at sparring, to everyone’s surprise. Link guessed rightly that the goddess had something to do with it, and he’d beamed at her when she’d confirmed his theory in private. His eyes, so proud and trusting and full of admiration, made her heart ache. Who did he love, really? 

More recently, a simple tune hummed by Peatrice as she passed on the road had sent Zelda’s mind into a panic, racing to the edge to leap after her hero. The Song of Mourning, she knew all of the sudden, the last she’d sung after… he’s struggling down there all alone and DEAD DEAD DEAD! She’d raced to the skydock and leapt, desperate to find him in the clouds, ready to soar on her own wings, blade at the ready to face Demise and stop him but knowing it was already too late. 

Luckily, she’d come to herself as the wind whipped her shawl over her eyes. She’d resheathed her sword and called her loftwing, Indigo, to catch her before plunging into the cloud barrier where no loftwing could follow. 

She grew afraid of the goddess, for the first time, and prayed to her past self that it would not happen again. The power had hummed like an earthquake inside her, and she hoped it understood.

Most of the time, if she could manage to close herself from the tides of emotions, she could get by. She could act normal. After all, how could she explain?

Gondo would present the council with the newest set of repaired robots and explain about the wonder of wires and circuits, and she could pretend she didn’t remember how to infuse a consciousness within a machine with just the right spell, if only she could access Hylia’s magic at will. It would mean nothing to them. 

When Link would wonder about his predecessor, how could she spoil his day by expressing the overwhelming love she felt for a man a thousand years in his grave, a stranger to them both, while feeling that same love for the young man at her side, as if they were the same? How could she explain that she would always see their faces overlapping? 

When she’d burst into tears of joy at finding a large seed on the Surface, how could she explain the faint memories of Deku trees planted and nurtured in places she knew by heart but would never find again? She wasn’t even sure if they came before her era, or after. How could she explain so much with so little?   

She couldn't, so she didn’t. 

Instead, she found ways to explain away the strange, divine impulses as excitement, silly curiosity, a flight of fancy, or beginner’s luck. 

Link. Groose. Father. They knew she was the goddess’s mortal form, but they would never understand. So she bore the goddess alone.  

Fear swelled in deep corners of her mind. Trapped. Small. Constricted. Her head stung from the pressure of condensed sunlight burning, burning, burning within it. The Sacred Springs had been excruciating but short-lived, and the Goddess had settled quickly after each cleansing,  even if the goddess’s commands frustrated Zelda long after. Now, she was a mouse that had swallowed a dragon, a divine beast of dazzling power, perpetually in motion and raging, and Zelda was about to crack at any moment. Her heart beat like a drum against her ribs. Delicate webs of nerves danced and screamed at every turn of the divine mind as it struggled to comprehend this new world through the bars of a tiny mortal prison. 

Sensing the danger, the power began to ease: hot but no longer blazing; pounding, but no longer bursting. 

Zelda gasped, able to move on her own once more. She rolled out of her smothering, feather-filled blanket and settled flat on her back, letting the night air cool her. One hand buried in the fur of the fluffy animal still sleeping beside her and another hand pressed against her own chest, as the thud thud thud of two mismatched hearts reverberated in her palms. At last, her own thundering cacophony began to steady and slow. She breathed in and out, measuring each breath evenly. 

I am still me. I am the same Zelda. Just…changed…  

She addressed her thoughts to the divine ghost within. I need to sleep, Dear Hylia.

DEITIES DO NOT SLEEP. 

The declaration wrenched her eyes open. She startled so sharply that her little remlit companions yowled, shot out of the nest of blankets, then scrambled under the bed. 

Zelda sighed, and wiped sweat from her brow as her heartbeat picked up again. She longed to agree with the goddess. So often, sleep brought breathtaking, confusing, or nightmarish memories that left her heart longing or broken, her eyes red and swollen from weeping from the memory of loss and failure and a world nearly destroyed. Beneath it all an ocean of rage and regret: THEY ARE DEAD! THEY ARE HURTING! THEY ARE LOST! HE IS DEAD, HE IS DEAD, HE IS DEAD! HOW CAN A GODDESS OF TIME BE LATE? CELESTIAL MOTHERS, HOW DID I FAIL HIM?  

The goddess supplied herself a furious answer, the waves of rage swelling, and it set Zelda’s heart racing again. I TOLERATED AND IGNORED DEMISE FOR TOO LONG. I COMMANDED THE HERO TO FIGHT BEFORE HE WAS READY. I FEARED MY SHADOW, AND MADE HIM FACE IT IN MY STEAD. 

Please, stop! Quiet quiet quiet! Zelda begged the divine as it threatened to drown her. What mortal could bear such rage? Such despair? Such love? Such hatred, all at once? There was nowhere for it to go, and she could not contain it.

She tried to turn aside, to cry into her pillow, but she couldn’t move. Helpless, she realized tonight was far different than other memories.  Vivid to the point of blindness, she saw a flash of light as the might of Fi’s power shot up to the sky, but her wielder needed her! NOW! Zelda…no, Hylia was falling, not soaring and barely controlled, yet still so far away from him, too weak to simply appear at his side. Tears streamed  NO! TOO LATE! This despair was no longer a swell, but an electric shock. Zelda seized up at the sight of those dead-white eyes on the hero’s beautiful, serene face, and when the vision closed at last she gasped and curled tightly on herself. She had sensed every vein and sinew in the man’s body, and in what order they stopped functioning. No one should know so much about the death of another, nor should she so love a stranger, no matter how like her own Link he appeared. 

The self-loathing of a goddess was more than she could bear.

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut, and they shot open again. And again. And again. The visions crowded her room. She cried for the goddess’s hurt, for her frustration at mortal limits, for memories she did not want to see, for the goddess’s anger at being trapped as a mortal, and her own anger at being swallowed by the divine. But she could not move, her body completely in the hands of the goddess, and her grief was still rising higher. If she could, she’d have screamed in agony. 

 Link is not dead! Her usual first line of defense from these divine, dark thoughts seemed so small tonight, and made no difference. She tried again. He’s alive! Let me rest!  

Link is alright. He’s safe. You saved him! 

Zelda’s assurances pushed back as weak as a breath compared to the goddess’s tempest. Usually, it was enough to redirect the momentum toward happier thoughts, and then the goddess would grace her with more pleasant or helpful memories.  

Not tonight. Her assurances only seemed to exacerbate the goddess’s fury and terror.  More memories flooded her, new and unfamiliar. Knights swiping blades to cut her down, giant spiders crawling closer, pale dead hands reaching from the floor, and the silhouette of a man, his laughter cruel and grating, as he stood victorious over a dark shape on the floor. A crown glistened in the space between them, and— 

Please, let me sleep! she begged as another swell of jumbled images and sensations and feelings too complex to parse threatened to crash over her and sweep her away into oblivion. Her head throbbed and grew feverishly hot with the effort to keep herself in one piece as her mind pulled a thousand directions at once. Excruciating pain and exhaustion and the fierce will to live and the threat of death all wrapped in one overwhelming feeling. She was being consumed. 

WE ARE SAFE! She barely kept from screaming her thoughts out loud. THE WORLD IS SAFE! 

HE IS NOT SAFE! the storm shrieked back at her. THE WORLD IS NOT SAFE!

She knew that Link slept in the room almost below hers, just one off, and by this hour he would be snoring by now, safe and sound. Demise and his blade were dead. 

He’s here! It’s over! It’s done! There’s nothing more you can do! Haven't you done enough?  

The goddess’s wrath slowed, and the storm became a whispered song of hope at the thought Zelda had conjured of Link, safe and asleep. 

And then, nothing. The storm dissolved. She’d finally shut up. 

Only whisper’s of Indigo’s dreams remained, chasing skytails, mercifully free of the Goddess’s storms.  

Zelda drew a slow, deep breath as her palms lifted off her sweaty hair. Has it truly stopped? Her hands lingered by her ears, ready to resume the desperate hold on her aching head. But nothing disturbed her thoughts now, and her room was starkly quiet in the pallid moonlight. 

Zelda sighed in relief. At last, she could rest.  

She retrieved the down-filled blanket she’d kicked onto the floor. Autumn air chilled the night, and she tucked the blanket close around her, and wiped her brow with her sleeve. Ignoring the sweat drying on her skin, she basked in the quiet and calm. Her body relaxed, at its limit. Each night, for three nights, she’d wrestled with the Goddess, and she was done. 

Hylia, please be at peace, she prayed, hoping to keep the goddess appeased. It is over. Demise is gone. You saved everyone. Your hero is alive. 

Even without the goddess’s urging, she would always watch over Link. Not that many threats remained: a few monsters on the Surface they’d face together, nosy questions about their time on the surface, rude comments about his lightning scars. Not that he couldn’t deal with them on his own, but his state had been fragile the first month, and she still struggled not to hover. 

She owed him that much: from her failure as the goddess to her failure as a friend he’d trusted. At Hylia’s bidding, she’d thrown him into danger. The goddess had been only a blessing back then, and who was she to question divinity? She would not make that mistake again.

But Link had volunteered after he knew the truth, and he’d faced the demon that had hunted her and her people thousands of years ago. He was just a boy, barely seventeen, and he’d saved her and the world from the jaws of Demise. 

She owed him the world. And all he asked for was her friendship. Not her love, or her favor, but her company.  

Her mind grew heavy and thick, full of pleasant dreams: playing in a fairy fountain with tiny sisters, taking in the healing magic and soft glowing light.

Do not sleep, daughter of my soul. Take up my blade. Tear the monster asunder. Break him across the ages. More must be done. Finish it. 

The new thought jostled her awake. Zelda groaned, but paused. Something was different. The goddess felt calm and aware, like a remlit ready to pounce rather than a storm. Why had the idea come after she’d already felt her mind close to the deity only moments ago? 

Zelda sat up and moved to the window. Above Skyloft floated the silhouette of Sir Hawke, and she knew whoever had nightwatch with him flew below the islands, ready to catch anyone Sir Hawke might have missed.  

Nothing else stirred. Her head swam as she stood, protesting at being awake for two days and counting. Her joints felt like chu jelly, weakening while she stood. Is this long enough? Are you finally resting? 

Stillness followed. Optimistic, she returned to bed. 

Silence. Blessed silence.

Quietness settled over Zelda’s body again as she burrowed in downy covers. At last, she sighed in relief. Within seconds she lay on the brink of sleep.

A yell from downstairs shocked her upright. She recognized the tenor of that voice. 

Link.

[ofstormsandfire]

hiiiii hello. it's Hope Throws Her Zine Fics At AO3 hours again because I've been too busy to do much else in the way of writing. sadly the horrors (school, mostly, and also another impending hurricane) have persisted, but we stay SILLY!

this time, I've got an ace attorney fic for you, based loosely around the premise of godot and blackquill being friends:

Two Jailbirds on a Wire

Two former prosecutors, current jailbirds. Most of the people convicted in their line of work don't last long in prison. As far as Godot is concerned, he's just waiting. Watching. It's not like he's got much else to do here. But there's something different about Simon Blackquill. There always has been.

I wrote this for @twistedsamuraizine, where leftover sales have recently opened and will in fact remain open until October 26th. if you'd like to snag a copy of it for yourself, check out the store here!

[socially-reluctant]

why do animals get the mercy of euthanasia but humans dont?

if an animal is suffering to the point it's affecting the animal's quality of life, we show the animal mercy and help it die peacefully

but if a human suffers to the point it's affecting their quality of life, the human is just told 'suck it up' 'deal with it' 'why can't you just be normal and do things, everyone else does'

why do we give mercy to our fluffy companions but not to our fellow man?

I don't think my life is worth more or that I'm more important than any other living being

I can't live on my own, I can't hold down a job, I'm lost in my own head most of the time, my body is already breaking down, I'm just. a waste of flesh and oxygen.

I wish I could have that mercy.

but anyway, the horrors persist yet I remain silly

[somethhing-someethinng]

0X1=LOVESONG by TXT :)

The horrors are persistant, but we remain silly!

@three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat @proudfreakmetarusonniku @etfrin @avocadorablepotato

tagged by @squidcave (ty!)

"Do this picrew and show a pic of the last song you listened to,"

@not-tumbling @thealmightykachow @it2017 @starryjoy @staticart @galaxysplove

+ anyone else whod like to join

[riewritten]

16 SILLY WISHES

DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST | chapter directory

erwin smith/fem!reader, erwin smith/you, no y/n | slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff & smut, mutual pining, canon AU, college/univ AU, professor erwin smith, commander erwin smith, non-linear narrative, manga spoilers

Trigger warning: canon-typical violence, graphic description, explicit sexual content, suicidal thoughts, mental health issues, trauma, implied/referenced sexual harassment, implied/referenced abuse, attempted murder, overdosing

Plot: It was always the nightmares, really. Entrapped with walls, human-eating giants, fighting through metal strings and swords – utterly violent, dreary, recurrent. But behind the blurry faces was a man with menacing blue eyes and vivid features; eventually appearing before you as your new reputable professor, Erwin Smith. Since then, the disaster had slipped beyond your subconscious. AO3

As the investigation of Sawney and Bean’s murder pushed through, you spent all of your time procuring supplies and arranging meetings with noblemen to ensure funds — all the while maintaining the confidentiality of the upcoming expedition. The agenda Erwin had disclosed to everyone was to scout in the nearby area and come back alive; nothing more, nothing less. He explained that this short-distance expedition would serve as a trial for bringing Eren back to Shiganshina.

Even if you completely understood why he kept the agenda hidden from almost everyone, the thought of the Scouts returning with less than twenty people again haunted you.

The day was filled with utter apprehension. Not long after the gates opened, the squad nearby informed the command unit of the sudden wipe-out. In fact, more were still dying as they spoke—the right flank released numerous black signal flares, the specific position with many excellent soldiers. It was as though they were begging for the commander to signal defeat so everyone could run back to the walls before it was too late.

And yet, even with such grave news, Erwin persisted, “No, we’ll continue. Relay this to the rear flank: only the central column wagon will enter the forest.” The squad leaders followed through and let you enter with the Command unit, albeit utterly confused.

This might be a stark reminder of how far Erwin could go.

No, actually not.

This isn’t a reminder because you’re seeing a whole new thing; a whole new side of Erwin standing before you, channeling his new and concrete goal mercilessly without a hint of doubt. 

Much to Erwin’s hunches, the titan who came inside the walls, presumably female, is real. It said a lot when the stomps became nearer and Erwin shouted, “Fire!”

The traps worked. It immobilized her. However, just when all of you thought the mission was a success, it screamed. It screamed and a bunch of mindless titans freed her of capturement by munching on her meat. The agenda shifted then.

“All squads, commence to attack! Defend the female titan to death!”

However, that’s beyond everyone’s control. The steam from her was too thick and the titans were too many. Almost ten soldiers died from that alone.

When you came back to your commander at the tree branch, however, another realization daunted you.

Erwin was smiling like a maniac.

“So what the fuck are you gleaming for?” Levi glowered in horror and you were dead frozen too.

“She got us. She was even prepared to give up everything.” Still beaming, he continued. “I never thought she would let the titans eat her to erase the information we’re so desperate to have.”

“Right,” You muttered grimly still with wide eyes towards him. “So call for everyone to go back before they finish the feast and have us for dessert.”

“All troops, pull out! Get to your horses while the titans are focused on her remains. We’d leave all the wagons behind! Gather west of the titan forest and get back in formation! We’re returning to Karanes District!” The soldiers quickly fled to relay his command.

“After all my bluster in front of the council, we still got no gains than exceeding the record of death tolls. I wonder what will happen to us and Eren when we come back to the gates.” Levi grimaced.

“If we get to come back, that is,” you replied amidst the chilling sight of the titan feast. Levi huffed a tsk and Erwin remained silent for a while. 

“We don’t have time to ponder on that. The priority for now is to lessen the casualties." As if realizing something, he added. “Levi, don’t go back yet. Replenish your gas and blades first.”

“Huh? That’d take so much time. I have enough until we get out of this mess. Just let me go back to my squad.” 

You were taken aback at the command as well. Levi is right. He could ensure the lives of plenty of soldiers somehow.

“That’s an order. Obey.” 

He could at least tell both of you why.

Levi looked at him in disbelief but realized it was futile, and thus he just shook his head. “Erwin. We’re going to trust your judgment for now. Don’t fail us.” 

Erwin then called your name. “The formation is completely incapacitated. Go to the frontlines and protect the rest. If you’d be able to outlive that until we’re close to the walls and safety is guaranteed, come back to me.” You stayed silent but readied regardless. “I dropped a command. Answer.”

“To protect, I could. To outlive is uncertain.” You shot your gear towards another tree and positioned yourself to fly.

“I don’t accept derelictions in my command and I’m not in the mood to bring your incapacitated body back to the walls yet.”

That made you smile wryly. It’s not like he can do anything about it. If he wanted to tell you to take care then he should’ve just told you straight. As you fled, you shot him a laugh and shouted. “Nice to know my commander isn’t willing to offer my life to humanity yet!”

All of you were around a hundred and half when the expedition started but now, as you go back in the walls, the soldiers are more or less than fifty. At least it isn’t twenty, you tried to bargain to yourself even if you know it wouldn’t suffice.

“Commander Erwin! We’d like you to answer a few questions!” A citizen shouted from behind. “Have you managed to accomplish some grandiose goal to make up for the great number of victims Scout Regiment suffered?” The tone was mocking. When you turned towards the familiar person speaking, you realized he was one of the families left behind by the soldier who died on an expedition before this one. “Tell me, commander! Do you have any regrets about sacrificing all of them! When are you gonna admit this is all for naught!” You figured it was a very valid question had the tone been not like that. Clouded by the catastrophe all of you just went through, you grit your teeth and glared at him, about to retaliate on the scowl he just gave.

“Don’t,” Erwin stopped you. “You out of all people should understand where he’s coming from.”

That made you grip the rope you’re clinging to. Indeed you do. There were plenty of "what if?" scenarios going through your head right now. That perhaps things would have gone smoother had Erwin’s methods been different, or at the very least, it was disclosed to a lot more soldiers. You just can't remove that from you. However, you are past the stage of blaming him now. As bad of a butcher he could be, no one in this land as far as you’re concerned would be able to account for the lives of multiple people just so humankind could retaliate against those who want everyone dead.

“I don’t think I do now,” you muttered weakly with eyes sullen on the ground.

“Well, you should. You’d have nothing to live for in this regiment if you’d go soft on me. You clearly established your disdain would make you move forward until we figure out the things we need to. Embody that and don’t fail me," he sternly replied. “I am not guilty of this. Keep that in mind.”

Erwin might have forgotten you’re not that stupid and you can see right through him, so that remark made you avert your gaze sidewards and furrow your brows in worry. You don’t think your disdain is pretty much relevant in your mission now. Heck, you’re not even sure if you still have that. But this matter would take a lot of time to talk about and there’s no bearing in clarifying.

“Funny of you to assume I’d go soft on you,” you let out a small laugh to establish your lie as something genuine.

“Right,” he smiled slightly, “That’s my soldier.” 

Your eyes were filled with guilt.

The lantern parade went in peace without you causing a scene. The downside is that Erwin seemed to avoid you since then, a very untimely moment considering your recent dreams. On the other hand, it made you understand why he is crippled with culpability.

The only way you could fully debrief yourself is by having him near you at every chance you could get. The Erwin here is not cold and merciless, and that even if he was merciless in some other world, he will be forgiven. He existed right in front of you and so you’d see to it that it’s done. He will be forgiven.

"His empty persuasive words went back to him. No wonder he'd be that sullen after the talk in the gym," Levi remarked, relaxed on his seat with the dining table separating you both.

"I don't think I shattered his pride," you worriedly replied. "Maybe he's just reminded that some things are easier said than done."

He then scooted closer and scrutinized your features, "Then why do you look so bothered?"

"I actually won't bother myself on this but our talk stuck on me! What if he leaves? What should I do, Levi?" Despite the serious inquiry, Levi remained silent, blinked a few times, and stared at you without apparent expression. "Why?"

Levi stood up and ruffled your hair, "Nothing. Just thought the last time you begged for my guidance was when you were a tiny girl. What do you want to eat?"

He sounded as though rewarding you like a dog successfully doing a trick. "Creep."

His ruffling became faster, making a real mess out of your hair.

“Levi!”

"You ignored me for years. Cope."

"If you were that bothered then why didn't you just come to me straight and ask?"

"You know I'm not the one to get on people's nerves,” Levi then walked to the kitchen for some glasses and grabbed random stuff from the refrigerator, “and I thought your avoidance was caused by your infatuation towards me." He then gave you a slice of cake, "Now eat." 

He knew?! "How did you know that?"

Levi flatly filled your glass with fresh milk, "Just a hunch. Now you've confirmed it."

You put your head down on the table and pulled on your hair hard in embarrassment. "I'm sure Isabel told you!" you exclaimed. "Forget Erwin. I’m going home." 

"Don’t bother, I'll give you the time to sulk. Also, if you still hold affection towards me then that explains why you're extremely ashamed. It's okay, though. I understand."

"No, I don't!" you glared then angrily chomped down on the cake. "If you don't have any helpful advice to give then just admit it! Don't stray away from the topic."

"I admit I'm a bit confused so I need to know your perspective. What do you want to do with him?"

"I want to help him carry whatever burden he has." But then Levi smirked hence you felt the need to clarify, "I know! He most likely won't allow it. My reason is quite shallow, too, but you know I always take your words seriously. Not making him disappear is my top priority." This time, your voice tipped lower, confidence completely diminished, "...and I need him so I can deal with this properly. He can't just go away."

Levi seemed pretty satisfied with that hence he grabbed his car keys from the shelf, "Go with me, then. I have to go to Erwin's house tonight."

"Huh?" you widen your eyes. "Why would I go to his house?"

"If you want him to stay then you have to take extra measures. His shutting-off tendencies could get hard to deal with. You need to prevent it before he gets to be dead set on that. Talk it out to him or whatever." He walked towards you to get his coat. "Understand?"

I don't, you huffed on your seat. "It's not like you'd let me say no. I'll try to figure it out."

"Good girl," he patted your shoulder then squeezed on it. "Finish that cake then go to the car."

You sighed and lamented, “Levi, stop treating me like a little kid.”

“Deal with it.”

The surprise on Erwin's face was palpable when both of you showed up on his door. Nonetheless, you and him feigned composure just as if there was no ongoing tension. Why do I have to deal with this?

But then, it's not like he could do anything, not when it’s Levi who brought you here. "Luckily I have extra stock of food. You may enter."

"You don't need to bother with that," you gulped the nervousness down. "I ate before coming here.”

The only acknowledgment he gave you was a nod. After a while, they told you to settle and entertain yourself anywhere in the unit as they talk. You ended up staying on the balcony with a sour expression. What Erwin could make you do keeps on surprising you. You never thought you had the gall to do something like this, definitely not when you usually don't have the energy to socialize let alone chase the company of other people. As you let the wind drape on your face, you noticed how restless and nervous you are. That's why when you saw his pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the table you stared down at it.

You never smoked all your life despite it being overly stressful at times. Going through other people's things is also against your values. But you're quite stressed and your restlessness could sometimes get out of hand. You also got really curious on what that would taste like; if it could indeed calm you down somehow, perhaps be a prospect habit from hereon. That’s why you tried to open it and when you noticed how full it was, you thought; I don't think he'd notice if I get one. You put a stick in your mouth and lit it up.

The next thing you knew you were a coughing mess. You tried again because it tasted menthol, but your lungs didn't forgive you. And while you understand that, you flushed in panic upon hearing the sliding door open.

Oh god, he won't forgive me for this.

He squinted his eyes and called your name, "What are you doing?"

"I'm–" terrible coughs cut you off, "I'm sorry!"

The smell immediately answered his question. He shook his head and sat beside you, clapping on your upper back gently to ease your coughing. Your head glued to the ground when it subsided, perhaps urging it to swallow you.

"Fine now?"

"I'm really sorry," you muttered and hardly gripped your pants. "God, sorry." This second one is barely audible.

"How have you been the past few days? Are you okay?"

"Fine as usual." Of course, not! I wouldn't be here if I was!

"That's good to know. The nightmares seem to not affect you that much now."

Well, apparently you started ignoring me so I feel like getting back to square one. "Yeah, I suppose." This feels awfully awkward for you.

"So what brought you here?"

Even though you told Levi you'd figure it out somehow, you completely had no idea how. You tried to come up with whatever, "Nightmare’s a bit bad actually. I figured I could ground myself somewhere which ended up on your balcony."

"How could you ground yourself on a place this high?"

"That's an awful dad joke."

Erwin sighed, he has a complete idea why you came here with such an agenda. "So what's up with the nightmares?"

"Some usual terrible events," you gulped down and decided to just drop what you really feel, "but I realized I could come to someone who completely knew about it. I was relieved instead."

"What happened might be something brought to you by your commander. Are you still relieved by my presence?"

Maybe that's why he was ignoring you, you thought to yourself. Does he see himself as someone not qualified to console you regarding this matter?

"Yeah," your stance got firmer and thus you smiled, "I'm being reminded that you don't have the right to order me around in this world after all."

Erwin laughed, "And when I thought it was my presence alone."

"That's why, please, don't go far away from here."

Your voice reeked of begging despite sheer tranquility. Erwin was speechless for a while.

"I didn't know you could be quite clingy."

"I’m not!" But then you realized if you were able to establish and admit that, maybe you could hold him down from disappearing somehow. "I mean, you might be right. You're the only one I have on this after all." 

"Don't let that get to my head. I might forget why I went here."

"To be honest, seeing you like that makes me think I should do nothing in this life but embody a reason so I would remain tied to that world as well."

"That's very unnecessary. We don’t share the same burden."

"Indeed, so if you ought to carry those sins throughout your life, would it be unreasonable for me to ask if I could help in carrying it?"

"Yes, it is."

"I don't think so," you also tried to convince yourself. “Unlike me, you seem to have a clear reason why you have a recollection of everything. Having nothing of that leaves me haunted with no direction. I need to move on in that world as well and I think going with you would help that." You don't know where these words are coming from but still, you decided to be dead honest. "That way you won't have any reason to leave me on my own with this. Consider it a deal." 

You felt his eyes piercing through you but you still remained glued to the floor. He took time to respond again, "You don't have to carry my sins in that world just so I won't leave you alone. I can do this as long as you want me to."

That made your eyes wide. Your flushed face isn't due to embarrassment anymore, “Is this because you’re indebted to me?”

“Yes.”

That got you rueful again. “I see.” It's easy to say that you'd take whatever he could give, but it's a terrible thing to make use of his guilt when what you wanted to do was alleviate it. How are you supposed to respond? How could you relay that you don't want it forced? And just who are you to pile up so many wishes?

"But don't get me wrong, I wasn't forced by my debt to do that," he clarified as if he read your mind. "Coming here was one of the happiest decisions I have made in this life. Even if I don't think I deserve that much."

“What you deserve is debatable, but I’m happy to hear that nonetheless.” This time, you reciprocated his stare on you. “I also lied about just going somewhere randomly. I intentionally went here because I noticed you've been avoiding me.”

Erwin shook his head; the gesture made you doubt as well. The thought that you might be overthinking flustered you. You would seem really desperate if that’s the case.

“So… what was that? You used to greet me and initiate small talks whenever we crossed paths. Or nod at the very least. Tried to ask you about something course-related one time but you turned your back on me. I considered the possibility that you’re just having a bad day but you interact with other people just fine. I apologize if I apparently got the wrong idea.”

“Hm,” he pondered, “I never thought you’d be bothered by that.”

“So you really are avoiding me?” You asked and weren't able to hide your disappointment. He heaved no response again. “I hope you could just tell me why and I’d completely respect that. I’m just not good at shrugging this kind of thing off.” With that, you finally realized why. If you won’t be able to address your mother awfully ignoring you for decades, you really don’t have enough patience for other people doing the same without telling you why. Even if you’re not the one to talk because of what you did to Levi, if this was another person you’d opt to never talk to them again.

“I don’t want to mutter silly excuses. I hope I can just make up for that.”

“A reason is enough.”

“Apparently, I also can’t figure out why.”

You shot him a glare while his eyes remained glued on the scenery. If he says it like that—even if both of you have an inkling why—then there’s no use in pressing. Thinking of ways to get back somehow, you just stood up to go back inside, but ruffled his hair messily first. He was immensely taken aback and quickly turned to you, “What was that for?”

“An attempt to annoy. Now I’m finally grounded from that dream. My commander would make me see hell if I did that," you turned your back to him and opened the sliding door. “Glad to know you won’t.”

Erwin was too stunned to speak and; he finally understood why head pats irk you. It’s not like he’s vexed as well, but if this is how you'd establish the differences he had from the Commander, then he wouldn't be able to help himself but tease you back in gratitude. 

With that, he’s able to confirm one of his hunches as well; This world might be set up to grant everyone’s wishes. Despite it sounding good, he holds that possibility with sheer distaste. Not only does he think living in comfort isn’t something he wished for, but deep inside him, he hopes this world stands on a higher footing than that terrible predicament.

When he still felt your presence from behind, he looked back again, “What now?” You’re already inside but the sliding door’s still barely open and you’re clinging on the curtains, making your head the only thing he could see.

“I was actually waiting for you to be annoyed and make me see hell.”

Erwin tried to conceal his snicker so he could cater to what you want, “Yeah, you were successful in doing that. Now go back.”

“Really? Then would you let me see hell now, Commander?”

Erwin ended up failing to conceal his amusement. At the same time, he didn’t know he could get too pleased with you using that nickname to him. “Strange how you could drop all the needed honorifics but use that one to banter.”

“I feel quite smug when using it. I hope you'll get used to me being disrespectful from now on.”

“If that’s what would comfort you from the fact that you’re shamelessly under my command for a lifetime, then suit yourself.”

“Hah,” you huffed, “then I dare you repeat that this time around.”

That was the final push to act on his amusement. He scooted from his position so he could fully face you, now with a smug smirk. “Are you sure about that? Old habits die hard, young lady.”

That trivial action alone killed the teasing challenge in you. That’s actually kind of him to ask that, you thought. But you despised the way he noticed your hesitation. His smirk became an actual mocking smile. “Pray tell, how do you want me to dominate you in this lifetime?”

“Don’t even dare!” you exclaimed in complete fluster.

His eyebrows perked up, “You’re taking the challenge back? Is my pretty little soldier a scaredy girl now?”

“Oh god,” you whispered under your breath. You’re not sure if this was a feeling you picked up from your nightmare counterpart, but you feel extremely hot right now and his pet name didn’t help. However, admitting defeat was never on your list. “I never thought you’d get into it immediately. Is this one of the things you said you wanted to do in this world? How vile.”

“Believe me, that’s only the baseline. The least vile at that,” you gulped down, extremely challenged on how to respond this time around because his insanely provocative voice is making your mind mushy.

“Now I’m curious to know more. Would my secretive commander allow me to see that?”

His eyebrows perked up, “If you’re that interested then I would be more than pleased to show you. But are you sure you could take that? Given how flushed your face is right now it seems like I have to prepare you for that.” Take what?! You shouted inside your head. I don’t even know what you’re trying to say now!

All your thoughts went loose when an arm abruptly wrapped around your shoulder. You shrieked at the action. “So both of you are goods now, huh?” Levi flatly remarked.

Erwin stayed silent, his provocative stare replaced with deadpan at Levi interrupting his humor. You’re silently but immensely thankful for the smaller man, though. Levi moved his hand near your face to feel it a bit. “Now why are you hot?”

You shot him a bad glare, “Please shut up.”

"You look like the time when Isabel blurted out your elementary crush on the dining table.” I can't believe this man. “Is the moment I'm interrupting right now similar to that? I feel bad now."

“Stop!” you tried to remove his arm on your neck but he gripped on it harder, now turning to Erwin. “Am I, Erwin?” Levi sounds completely amused.

“You are,” Erwin nodded.

“No, you’re not!” you tried to resist again but to no avail. “Levi, you’re making it hard for me to breathe.”

He ignored you, “As much as I feel bad, I have to bring this thing back now. Would you mind?” 

“Suit yourself," Erwin then stood up, but before he could enter the house again he tapped your cheek. “Wish for something you can take next time, missy.”

You squealed weakly but frustratingly under Levi’s hold. “I swear to god, this is the most shameful thing I've experienced in my life.”

“Now I feel bad for ruining that,” he mocked flatly, still not moving.

“Please let me go now or I’ll cry.”

"So, did the talk go differently? What's your assessment?"

"Positive. I just need to compose myself again but in case you need affirmations, you helped me a lot today."

“Well, you certainly look like you need that moment. Having Erwin here really broke your impression of being composed in my face,” he withdrew his arm on your shoulder now. “What a sight to see.”Yeah, what a sight to see. You thought to yourself. Maybe you should ponder if getting near Erwin at every chance you could get was really a good idea, or if it would just exude pathetic stuttering thoughts you don’t wish to show to anyone.

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i initially planned on holding this ff down for a while because of personal life struggles, but the comments and kudos in ao3 make me falter (as well as the likes I often receive here even if it's not that much <333). the serotonin boost I get in writing this doesn't help in my plans. so yeah, I hope these chapters would give you the happiness you're all giving to me :)

from miico.jpg HDJSJSJS WHY IS THIS SO CANON

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 8

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.4k [a/n]

Thank you so much guys for being patient. I’m feeling so so much better now, but still recovering. 

Updates will still be slow but doing my best. I want to pay attention to my other hobbies again (dance, sing, games, cosplay). 

AO3 link is in the masterlist page.

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist. 

Part 7 || Part 9 || masterlist

He wakes up from the slight trickle of light seeping through his room’s window. Did he not close his curtains before sleeping? He always makes sure they’re closed because he hates waking up to the brightness of the sun. Even the slightest rays of light  cause him to wake up. He sits up and rubs one eye as he tries to make sense of why his curtains are open and why his head feels a bit funny that morning. 

His hand stops moving and his whole body goes stiff when last night’s occurrences flash in his head. There’s not one single moment omitted from his memory.  

He remembers drinking in that foul place because he was so upset that he even bothered going there in the first place. He remembers every little foolish thing he did - the immense amount of flirting from his end, his inability to walk straight, talking to his fucking keys, and getting caught drunk by his brother. 

He looks at the space beside him for a while and groans, regretting everything last night.

The only pleasing memory from last night was when you laid down on his bed… and everything that followed after that. Yet that seems to be the only thing he imagined apart from the rest of what he can remember.

He’s been repressing the urge to kiss you ever since you broke the deal. So much so that  his brain probably conjured up a scene that would satisfy that desire. 

It felt so real though. You were so pliant and inviting. Even now, he can still remember how you whimpered his name and how you arched your body closer towards his touch.

He gently shakes his head.

You probably decided to go home after you changed and he was probably asleep by then, dreaming the whole thing. He reaches for his eyewear case and wears his glasses.  He seats himself at the foot of his bed, gathering his thoughts once more before he stands up.

He hears his door open and doesn’t bother looking up. It’s probably Akiteru. He’s very sure he’ll hear from his brother about him being drunk and brought home by you. He doesn’t have any valid explanation as to why he got himself drunk... so he keeps his head down to avoid his brother’s gaze before the taunts come. 

“Please don’t tell me you have a hangover.”

The voice is definitely not Akiteru’s. He slowly lifts his eyes up to see if it’s truly who he thinks it is.

When he does, his eyes land on your figure leaning back on his door with your arms crossed as you regard him with both worry and chagrin. 

You’re wearing his clothes, like you were in his dream. Was it really a dream though when you’re actually in his room right now wearing the exact same clothes?

No, it wasn’t. It really happened. You slept with him, in the most literal sense, with your hands clasped together. He takes in your appearance again. Without his glasses last night, he didn’t notice how big his clothes actually are on you. He really doesn’t pay much attention to your build. Your personality makes you standout and your presence is bigger than most people he has met.

But as he stares at you now, you seem silly acting all high and mighty when you look like a mouse wearing his clothes. He keeps a straight face despite being amused at your appearance.

Unable to read Tsukishima’s expression, you feel your frustration rising. Is he still dazed? After all the effort you put last night, does he have a hangover? He’s staring at you far too long without saying anything. “I will give you the worst earful you’ll ever get in your life if you have a fucking hangover,” you spit out. You did not suffer last night’s horrors only for him to have a hangover this morning.

“I don’t. I’m only trying to recall everything last night,” he says with his voice back to normal, devoid of the previous evening’s teasing and uncharacteristic flirtatiousness.

You two regard one another carefully, traces of what happened clear in each other’s eyes. Yet, no one dares speak of it. 

You decide to break the ice first as you smile your best at him. “I hope you remember how you talked to your keys,” you say with mirth glazing your tone. 

He squints at you while you maintain your cheery grin. He averts his gaze and answers, “I did no such thing,” even though his demeanor clearly says he fully remembers he did. 

You snort before getting your clothes last night from his desk. You place the bottle of water you grabbed from their kitchen to his desk. “Drink up. You’re still probably thirsty,” you tell him with a tone almost similar to Coach’s when someone from the team is acting up. Then you head to their restroom without saying anything else.

When you finish changing back to your clothes from last night, you check your reflection in the mirror. You look a bit tired but still okay, considering what you’ve been through. At least Tsukishima is no longer a flirting menace and you’re no longer a blushing virgin. 

You dump his dirty clothes in their laundry basket and go back to his room to let him know you’re leaving.

“You will attend this afternoon’s training, right?” you ask just to be sure. He stands up and narrows his eyes at you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You grin at his response. The Tsukishima you know is back and is as nasty as you remember him to be. “Great to know. Anyways, I’ll leave now. I have classes soon and I still need to go back home to change,” you announce before going for his door.

But before you even touch the door knob, you feel him grip your arm. “Hey,” he says sternly. You turn around to face him, curious about what he has to say that he has to touch you to stop you from leaving. “What?” He answers by dipping down to reach your lips. He plants a chaste kiss on them that it makes your heart tumble from how uncharacteristically tender it is. He pulls back, remaining only centimeters away from your face for a while before he completely withdraws away.

You gape at him dumbfounded, uncertain what to make of what he just did.

“I’m confused,” you admit.

He cocks one brow up but the rest of his features are still unreadable.

“I thought you’d be smart enough to get what it means,” he says before a smirk creeps up on his lips, turning his blank expression to a smug one.

You scoff and look away with disbelief, but you quickly recover as you face him again with a smirk of your own. “You really this snarky in the morning, Tsukishima? You could’ve asked nicely if you wanted to be kiss buddies again,” you taunt him for you know he won’t openly admit it.

“I already did. Last night,” he answers, his eyes and tone no longer sneering.

He did?

‘We already broke that deal, Tsukki.’

‘Then let’s bring it back.’

He did. 

You just didn’t think he actually meant it. You were convinced that it was just an alcohol-induced volatility. 

Your confusion turns to something you can’t fully describe, something exasperating yet delightful at the same time.

You chuckle as you roll your eyes. “Indeed, you did,” you say before stepping out of his room, but for the second time, he stops you from leaving.

“You haven’t given me an answer yet.”

With your back facing him, you smile when you hear his persistence. 

You hastily turn around and latch an arm around his neck, pushing yourself against his body. You tip your toes to reach him and press your lips firmly against his.

Before it even sinks in him, you quickly pull back with your arms slowly dropping on his chest. You give it one tap and quietly say, “There’s your answer.”

You swiftly release yourself from him and third time’s a charm, you successfully get out of his room.

He watches you hurriedly close his door, then sighs when you’re no longer in sight.

“How annoying,” he utters.

Yet there’s the tiniest smile on his lips as he starts getting ready for his day.

—

Even though your secret deal is back, no one speaks of what almost happened that night on his bed. Both of you are aware that it did, but no one dares mention it. 

The secret kisses you share are also back to how it was - passionate but still harmless, nothing like the sensual one you had when he got drunk.

There’s also been no repeat of the hugging disaster you did at the Sendai gymnasium. Things are back to how it’s supposed to be. 

Yet you can’t shake off the feeling that something changed. 

Whatever. Maybe you’re just overthinking it because the project is ending soon. When it does, your little secret will cease to exist and you’ll become nothing more than his manager. Things will be back to how it was before the unfortunate pairing your professor did.

Was it really that unfortunate though? You stare at nothing for a while then take a deep breath to brush off your unnecessary thoughts.

You should be focused on the upcoming game, not on what happens with you and Tsukishima behind closed doors. You better go down to the benches with them than staring at the court when there’s not even a game taking place. 

“Fancy seeing you again, Miss Manager.”

You turn your head to the side to see who’ll be this match’s receiver of your rejectorama streak. You’re a bit surprised when it’s not someone in their jersey, but someone in a business suit regarding you with a professional smile. You know this guy. You’ve met him somewhere for sure. 

Ah, yes. He’s that guy talking with Bokuto when Tsukishima introduced you. 

You return the guy’s smile as you tilt your whole body to face him. “Sir Promoter,” you acknowledge quaintly. “How may I be of any help to you today?” 

“I was wondering if you can tell me more about the Frogs this year,” he says kindly, all too kindly for your taste. You’d brush him off but you might just be reading into it too much. He might be actually only doing his job.

“I’d love to, but we have a game. Maybe another time, Sir Promoter,” you maintain your goody two shoes act to mirror his nice guy demeanor.

“How about tonight then?” 

There it is - the slight tug of his lips and the hint of mischievousness that quickly flashed by his eyes. It was there only briefly but you saw it. He accidentally bared the fangs he’s hiding.

You take a step closer to him and give him a calculated smirk. Something tells you that you can’t pull the same antics you use to drive others away with this guy. You remember how he was studying you when you met the first time. You know he was into you or liked how you look at least.

As quick as he is to slip to his playful demeanor, he’s just as fast to be back to being well-mannered and polished, which you’re not totally sold on.

He’s playing a different game from others who have tried to ask you out. So you decide to change it up a bit and be upfront with him rather than creep him out with your weirdness.

“Are you asking me on a date, Sir Promoter?” you ask with unbridled mischievousness designed to throw him off.

Your plan works as you see him catch off his guard a bit with your direct question. However, he instantly recovers with his civil smile back on his face. 

“Me? Sorry to disappoint but it’s purely for work.” 

Your brow shoots up at his response. 

“It won’t be a date or anything,” he says with the same nice guy facade right before he tears it down as he smirks and leans down to whisper in your ear. 

 “Unless you want it to be.”

A smirk shows itself from your lips before you can suppress it. You have to admit. This guy is good. He knows that part of your job is to provide the information he needs from the team. He’s using that to his benefit and make it seem this invite is completely for professional purposes.

You might have believed it and might have been completely fooled if you haven’t met him yet before.

You laugh a bit as you internally admit your defeat.

“After the match then, Sir Promoter.”

He pulls away and stands straight back up with a grin. “It’s Kuroo, in case you forgot,” he reintroduces himself. “I didn’t.” You wink then pass by him without saying.

Kuroo chuckles to himself when you leave. He doesn’t mix business with pleasure. He really needs to get the updated profile of the Frogs for their database. He also needs to know which players he can include for their collaboration with Molten.

He planned to keep things professional and tried to keep his business pants on. But he failed to keep it for long when you easily noticed how attracted he is to you.

He shakes his head with a smile then heads to the benches where he’ll watch the game himself.

—

You clap your hands merrily after you tally the last winning point made by Kyoutani. Two  more games and your team will be up against a team from Division 1.

The Frogs have only been successful in achieving a game with Division 2 in your first year as a manager. After that it’s been mostly at the top 3 or 4.

This year, you’re confident that you’ll advance again among other Division 2 teams. 

When the team disperses for some down time after the match, you approach Coach Mira. “Hi Coach, I won’t be on the bus going back. The VBA promoter wants to ask me stuff about the team. I’ll gather everyone when it’s time to leave then meet the guy. Is there anything else you need me to do, Coach?”

She looks at you and smiles gratefully. “Nothing else, y/n. Thanks for your hard work as always.”

You smile back appreciatively before you turn around to get back on your tally sheet. You need to review the statistics of each member who played in the games.

“Hey,” you hear Tsukishima’s voice behind you before you grab your notebook.

“Hmm?” you respond quizzically, wondering what he might want from you after a game. “You’re meeting Kuroo later?” he asks with his usual empty tone and expression.

“Yeah. You know him?” 

You know that Tsukishima knows Bokuto, but you’re not sure if he knows the promoter Bokuto was with at the time. The Kuroo person might have just been there. Tsukishima nods. “He…,” he trails off, sounding unsure of what he’s going to say next. 

“He what?” you ask as you get your tally sheet from the bench.

“I trained with him too, along with Bokuto. He taught me how to block.” You put down the tally sheet and gape at him. “Really? That guy is your mentor?” 

You supposed that Kuroo has the build. He’s tall and even with his suit on, you can tell that he has some muscles going on underneath it. Now that you think about it, he’s actually kinda good looking. It’s just that a lot of athletes are buff, tall, and good-looking too that you’re desensitized to it now. 

“Yeah,” he responds. “I see. He’s asking me about the Frogs, something for his job I guess. I’ll meet with him right after I make sure all you guys are on the bus on the way back.”

You expect him to walk away and go to the restroom like he always does after a game, but he just stands in front of you saying nothing. “What?”

“You should ask to reschedule. It’s already late.”

You look at your phone to check the time and it really is late than the usual time the games end. The slot the team got was the last match for the day and the earlier games were delayed so the team finished at already 9.30 pm. “It’s fine. I don’t think it will take long anyways.”

He takes a few seconds before he answers. “Right,” then he walks away. You finish summarizing your tally sheet then gather the members of the frogs. You make sure everyone is on the bus before you take your leave and go back inside the gymnasium where you agreed to meet Kuroo.

You see him against the railing where you were watching from earlier. His elbows are leaning on the banister with his hands on his pockets as he grins at you who’s walking towards him.

“Shall we commence this professional get-together?”

“Yes, we shall. Would you prefer going somewhere else?” he smiles as he asks.

“I’m all set here if it’s purely Frogs’ information you’re after,” you answer craftily, attempting to make him admit that there’s another kind of business he’s going for. 

“Here it is then,” he responds with a grin, resolute in his stance that he’s not going to ask you out tonight. He clears his throat and stands up straight, his deviousness gone as he starts asking questions.

Damn, you were mistaken about this guy. He was just toying around with you earlier but really had no plans to ask you out. He must be like you who just likes to mess with people every once in a while. You probably came off cocky to him this morning.

More than being embarrassed, you’re amused. He’s actually interesting. 

“That’s that, y/n. Thanks for your cooperation on this one,” he says politely. 

“No worries. It’s part of my job.”

“Do you have a card so I can get back to you if I need anything again?” 

You get your cardholder from the pockets of your pants, but you don’t feel anything even as you reach even the deepest parts of them. You check the pockets of your jacket as well but it’s not there either.

You most likely left it at home.

“Uhhh. I don’t have it with me right now. You can just take my number,” you suggest.

He raises one brow quaintly but brushes it off immediately as he hands you his phone. You take his phone and as you’re about to enter your contact details, you suddenly feel uncanny with giving him your number this way.

You look at him and ask. “It’s the same thing, right?”

He frowns. “What is?”

“Putting my number like this on your phone and giving you my business card,” you answer.

He chuckles lowly and glances at you with a very amused grin. “For you sake, I’d say yes, they’re the same.”

You enter your contact number and hand it to him with a smile. When he gets it, he raises his brow and looks back at you. “Manager of Sendai Kermits?”

You nod. “That way we keep it professional.”

His grin spreads wider as he pockets his phone. No one would put that kind of name in their contact details and genuinely think it’s professional. 

“I have to be honest, y/n. You’re making it really hard for me to keep it strictly that way.”

You feign innocence as you put a gentle hand on your chest. “Me? But I’m not doing anything.”

Right, and Volleyball is a sport played by monkeys in pink dresses. “Sure,” he agrees and lets it go before he does something out of line like asking you to have late dinner with him since the game ended late already. “We done?” you ask.

“Yeah. Sorry, I took longer than I expected,” he apologizes. At times, he’d get drawn in with how you speak and how entertaining you look while doing so that he got distracted. “How are you going to get home by the way? It’s late already.” If you’d ask him, he can take you home. Though he highly doubts you’d ask that of someone who’s practically a stranger. 

“I think I can still catch the bus,” you casually respond. 

“I can walk you to the bus stop if you don’t mind,” he discreetly offers, making sure that you’re comfortable with the idea. 

“Hmm,” you ponder. Unlike the girls who he has gone out with, he can tell you’re not playing hard to get by delaying your answer. You’re really deciding on whether you’d let him extend what little time more there is to enjoy your company.

You grin at him genuinely, none of your pretentious facade whatsoever. “Alright!” you stand up and don't wait for him as you start walking already. 

He shakes his head then easily catches up and walks beside you.

“How long have you been a manager?” It wasn’t a question to start a small talk. He’s seriously curious how long you have been doing this. He only got the promotion recently so he does not know most people aside from his friends and acquaintances from his Volleyball time in high school. Previously, he only had to work at the office. He’s establishing his own connections only now.

“Three years and counting,” you respond with your eyes straight ahead. 

You’re a year ahead of him in this industry then. He got his job at the VBA two years ago. “Three years, huh? Isn’t that when Tsukishima joined the team as well?”

“You’re really that close with him, huh?” You remark with intrigue as you two continue walking towards the exit.

“Taught the boy everything he knows about blocking,” he comments with a grin even though you’re not looking. 

Your rich laughter fills the empty hallway as you finally glance his way. “Why do you sound like a 40-year old man?”

“What can I say? I’m full of wisdom,” he counters immediately, causing you to raise an eyebrow to go with your amused smile.

“Forgive me, Mr. Promoter, but I have to say you're full of shit.”

He cackles uninhibitedly from your sharp-witted retort. He knows you have one hell of a personality based on the little interaction you had when he first met you, but you’re proving yourself to be a whole lot more than what he anticipated. 

“Am I that easy to read?” He asks with traces of his laughter still in his voice. You scrunch your nose quickly before smiling prettily at him. “I’m afraid so.”

As you two are about to reach the exit, he decides to just go for it. You’re getting more interesting and more interesting as he talks with you and there’s not really a rule that he’s not allowed to date people from the professional teams. 

Since the meeting is done, this right now is technically not part of his job anymore. He’s doing it to spend more time with you. 

“Actually, y/n. I have my car parked outside. If you don’t mind, I can drive you home instead,” he offers more at ease this time. 

He seems like a legitimately good person who can grasp your sense of humor and hold a fun conversation. Most importantly, you somehow feel comfortable around him. Besides, it would be nice if you don’t have to take the bus or hail a cab to go home. 

So you don’t take too long to decide. “Su-”

“Hey.” Someone cuts you off as you reach the outside of the Sendai Gymnasium. You look at your left where the familiar voice came from and see your favorite middle blocker. He’s still wearing the Sendai Frogs’ jacket, but now has pants on instead of their official shorts.

“Hey,” you respond with a puzzled look as to why he’s still there when you clearly remember he was seated at the back of the bus before you stepped out of it. 

“Tsukishima,” Kuroo acknowledges his presence cordially with a grin. 

Tsukki bows a bit to the promoter with an impassive expression, then looks at you again but doesn’t really say anything..

“What are you doing here?” you ask since he doesn’t look like he’s going to explain on his own. 

He doesn’t answer and remains silent with his eyes glued on you. Your brows furrow a bit as you ask again. “I said what are you-”

“Coach asked me to wait for you.”

You blink at him several times while holding his gaze. You look down for one quick second then turn to Kuroo with a huge, dumb smile on your face. “I’d have to pass tonight, Kuroo. Coach might worry if I don’t go with him,” you point to Tsukishima as you say it. 

Kuroo notices how you smile differently, more earnestly, with Tsukishima’s presence. He turns his attention to Tsukishima whose eyes are still on you despite the blank expression on the blonde’s face. 

Tsukishima said he’s there because their Coach said so but Kuroo doesn’t buy it one bit. He can’t imagine Tsukishima willingly abiding the Coach’s orders to play nanny for you. Unless Tsukishima himself wants to do so. 

Kuroo knows that you and Tsukishima are not dating. If you were, you wouldn’t be so surprised that he’s here waiting for you. But that gives Kuroo confirmation that something is going on with you two. 

He looks back at you and returns the smile. “No worries. Maybe next time?” He asks casually albeit the meaning behind that laid-back question. 

“Maybe,” you giggle softly as you answer. “I’ll see you around, Kuroo.” You give him a brief wave then head to Tsukishima’s side. The blonde, on the other hand, gives him a quick nod and bids him, “Good evening, Kuroo-san.” 

You turn to him as well, “Good night!” Then pour your whole attention to the other guy beside you as you two walk away from him. 

He remains where he is and watches your animated expression from afar. He really likes you. It’s too bad you like someone else though. 

When you two are out of his sight, he walks to where he parked his car. 

--

“So, Tsukki,” you grin at him. “Coach really is that concerned about me that she asked you to.. wait for me?” you ask with your tone dripping with amusement because you know that Coach will never ask that of someone, especially him. Coach Mira thinks he despises you and even if he doesn’t, she still wouldn’t. Coach Mira knows you can take care of yourself. 

“Shut up,” he says lowly, but nothing more. You’re expecting a snide response but it doesn’t come. 

“As thanks for last time, I’ll take you to your dorm,” he says with his eyes straight ahead.

You keep your gaze on him for a few more seconds then turn to the same direction he’s looking at. He never did thank you for it, but it’s not like you were expecting him to. You helped him get home out of concern both as his manager and his partner in class. 

You didn’t expect that he’d still be thinking about it even after a week. Although, it makes sense that he does. Obviously, he’s never been in that state wherein he needed help getting home. He probably feels like he’s indebted or something. 

Tsukishima glances briefly at how you’re still smiling even when you’re not talking. Earlier, he was battling himself on why he got off the bus and chose to wait for you. Sure, it’s pretty late, but it’s not like you can’t go home on your own. If he’d be honest, until now, he still doesn’t know why he chose to get left behind and stand outside for who knows how long. 

But seeing you as you are now, he knows he made the right decision to stay.

---

The timetable you planned for you and Tsukishima has long been messed up. You were supposed to finish this project a month ago. But a lot of things happened during your private meetings that you lost track of how you’re progressing along. 

It isn’t only until that afternoon where you receive the last write up you need from Tsukishima for the project that you’re made aware that today is your last day together. 

After you get the notification in your email, he glanced your way. 

“What else do you need?” he asks.

You try to think of what else he can contribute, but you come up with nothing. Everything is set. You’re just restructuring your output as a whole so it’s coherent. 

“Um. Nothing. We’re all good now,” you announce blandly instead of rejoicing that it will finally be over today. 

You look at Tsukishima and find him looking at your screen. “Let me look at it,” he says to verify if it is as good as you say it is. 

You slide a bit to your right so he can check the document himself. He skids in front of your laptop and scans the draft of the document you put up, checking for any possible room for improvement. 

But you really are exceptional in organizing reports. It’s as cohesive as it can be, which ultimately is good news for you and for him. The project will be done by tonight. “It is all good now,” he confirms. 

When he glances back at you, you two share the same look - dismal. He knows that the project will end, even the semester is coming to a close soon. But he did not anticipate that your last meeting is today. 

“Alright,” you break the uneasy air as you swat your hand to shoo him away. “Let me work this through so we can completely finish it.” 

He’s not certain whether you’re asking him to leave already since he’s done his part or you’re just making him go back to his own laptop. Not wanting to embarrass himself, he asks, “Should I pack up and leave now?”

You narrow your eyes with displeasure. “Of course not. You’ll stay here until I finish the damn thing, Tsukishima. Don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

He doesn’t complain and remains impassive as you watch him return to his seat. He fights off the grin that was threatening to surface on his lips while he starts doing his requirements for another class.

When you see him comply, you return your attention to wrapping up the project. The truth is you can send him home already. You don’t need his presence to finish the report. You just want to keep him longer, one or two more hours will do. 

Then you longer have any reason to meet with him outside training hours. You’ll finally stop your private meetings along with your clandestine kisses. 

You’ll be back to being solely his manager.

Even though you still have a lot of things to do for another subject, you take your sweet time with what you’re doing. You start typing like an old man whose reading glasses no longer work. Then after you’re done, you conduct a spell check which you normally don’t do because you correct typos as you go along, not after the output is done. 

After an hour of dilly dallying around trying to clean the already clean word file, you reckon it’s time to let it go. 

You look at Tsukishima and softly call his name, “Tsukki.”

He stops typing and faces you. “Done?”

You nod with a faint smile. “Yeah, we’re done.” Done with the project and done with whatever you two had. 

“I already sent it to our professor as well,” you add. 

“I see.” He packs up quietly then stands up to leave. You stand up as well and open the door for him. You stopped opening the door for him when he leaves, but since this is the last, you thought it was fitting that you send him out. 

“Tsukishima.”

He pauses as you say his name, turning his head to face you and waits for what you’re going to say. You don’t really have anything to say though. You just stare at him. And he stares right back, his gaze studying your face carefully until it lands on your mouth. That’s when you figure out why you stopped him from leaving. 

You want a last kiss. 

When you started your agreement, you’ve never been afraid or shy to go for a kiss. Only now. 

“What is it, y/n?” he asks calmly even though his eyes are on your lips. You know he wants the same despite the apathetic demeanor. If not, he wouldn’t be looking at you as he is right now. 

Yet you don’t want to initiate. 

Obviously, neither does he.

It’s kind of stupid. After the countless kisses, none of you moves to instigate the last one. 

You don’t know how long you stare into each other, but since this seems to be going nowhere, you decided to just leave it as is. 

“Good night. I’ll see you in training,” you say instead. 

He seems to have recovered from his own daze as well when he responds with a dry, “Right,” before stepping out of your room.

You close the door behind him with a certain gloom you can’t make sense of. Months ago, you two wanted nothing more than to finish this project. Now that you’re finally free of each other, you feel... sad?

Ridiculous. 

You shake it off and get back to what you’re supposed to be doing. You and Tsukishima had good teamwork. Although he has some rude comments here and there, they usually have no bite to them. Other than that, he was easy to work and hang around with. The liplocking was just a fun perk. Nothing more, nothing less. 

--

You enter the gym and find that not much of the team is there yet. It’s Kogane, Tsukishima, Eiji, and Coach who’s only there.

You put your bag in one of the benches and get your report on the previous match of the team. You walk towards Coach Mira and hand it to her. “Thanks, y/n,” she says with a pleasant smile she doesn’t show to anyone else from the team. “Can you set up the other net?” She asks while going over the report you gave her.

“Yes, Coach,” you answer agreeably then head to the other side of the court. You pull up a stool chair and stand on it as you tie the net to the pole.

“Y/n.”

You’re startled by Tsukishima’s voice behind you that the chair along with your ankles shake when you flinch. You try to grab the pole to steady yourself but you can’t reach it anymore. 

“Shit!” You curse beneath your breath and just accept you’ll flat on your butt. But instead of falling, you feel a pair of huge hands on your waist that thwarts your ass kissing the floor. 

“What are you doing?” You hear Tsukishima ask impertinently as he gently eases you back on the chair. “Do you need help getting down?” he follows up with his hands still on your waist. 

You turn around carefully and place your hands on his shoulders to support yourself as you jump down on your own. You grin at him which is probably why he takes his hands off you. You turn around to tighten the bottom part of the net. 

“Did you need something?” You ask as you continue tying the knot. You finish what you’re supposed to do and he still hasn’t answered so you face him again. 

“What’s up, Tsukki?” You’re a bit confused why he’s silent when he’s the one who came up to you. 

“Can you tape my fingers?” 

The situation reverses and now, you’re the one who’s not responding. Three years as their manager and he’s never asked for help taping his finger. 

“Uhh. Sure. Do you have your bandage with you?”

He gets it from the right pocket of his jacket and gives it to you. You get it and take his right hand to tape it first. Even though this is the first time he’s asked you to do it, you’ve done it before with Coach’s orders. Every single time you do, he has a disgruntled look on his face as he does his best for his eyes not to land on any part of your face. 

But now, you can feel him staring at you while you work on his fingers.

“Something on my face, Tsukishima?” You ask teasingly. 

“Yeah. You still have coffee on your chin,” he answers seriously. 

You stop abruptly and shove the bandage on his palm to hastily wipe your chin. “Is it still there?” You look up to him as you ask.

He presses his lips together before he looks to the side. However, you catch the sligh tug in the corner of his mouth prior to turning away. 

“What? Did I not get it?” You ask a bit worriedly as you try to remember the people you greeted on your way here. You beamed cheerfully at them and all this time, you had a smidge of coffee on your chin.

 His shoulders start shaking and you can hear his suppressed laughter as he’s turned away from you. 

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

He returns his gaze at you with an entertained smirk. “If you stopped drinking coffee like it’s water then maybe you wouldn’t fall for such a simple ploy.”

You give him a sarcastic smile as you yank his hand to continue taping him. “Real mature, Tsukishima,” you remark dryly.

“You’re one to talk,” he instantly counters. 

You snort and shake your head amusedly. In the past, you’d think it’s an insult, but at present, you can tell that it’s just benign banter.

While you tape his hands, there’s comfortable silence between you two that you only feel when you’re seated beside each other when you’re doing the project. You didn’t expect you’d feel it again even when you’re in the gym with other people around.

You’re almost done with his left hand when you hear Coach Mira call you. “Coming, Coach!” you yell from where you are and finish the tape on his middle finger. 

“And it’s done,” you grin briefly at him then turn to where Coach is.

Before you go, you hear him utter a low, “Thanks.”

A faint smile forms on your face as you saunter back to Coach. When you reach her, she frowns a bit at you. 

Your smile disappears, thinking that you made some error that Coach caught after you submitted it to her. “What’s wrong, Coach? Is something off with the report?” You ask a bit troubled. 

“No. It’s perfect as usual,” she remarks commendably. 

You ease up knowing that your write up is still quintessential. “What else can I do to help?” Since there’s nothing wrong with the report, she must need help for another task. 

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you’re dating Tsukishima.”

Now you wish there’s something wrong with the file you submitted instead. You’d prefer that than having Coach suspect there’s something like that between you and Tsukishima. 

Nothing’s going on with you two except for the project you had together. Usually, you don’t give a shit what other people think of you. But not Coach.  You don’t feel comfortable that she is dubious of your relationship with the blonde middle blocker. 

“What made you ask, Coach?” you ask, wondering where she got the idea.

“You two seem more.. I don’t know,” she struggles for the next words while you wait anxiously for it. “more at ease with each other now,” she continues.

You feign a laugh and respond casually. “I’m just messing with him as usual,” you lie because it’s the other way around. 

Coach glances back at Tsukishima then at you. “He looks like he’s enjoying it this time though. He’s even staring at you when I called you here.”

You turn your head his way and see him practicing his serve already. You face Coach again and smile bemusedly. “I wonder why.” You really have no idea why he was staring. 

Coach studies your face for a few seconds then shrugs. “Alright. I’ll let you get back to work instead of being a nosy middle-aged woman,” she smiles at you then returns to the report you gave her.

You nod politely then turn around to go to the stockroom. When you’re almost there, you glance discreetly to Tsukishima and reflect on Coach Mira’s suspicion.

Does it really seem like you have that relationship with him?

--

You thought of doing your uni requirements in the library today for a new work setting. As you’re approaching the entrance of the library, you open your bag to get your ID. 

Several minutes of rummaging your bag and you still can’t find it. 

Shit! Did you lose it?

The last time you actually saw it when you used it to enter the bar. Did you drop it from your pocket? But you put it in your back pocket so you won’t accidentally lose it when you get your phone.

You close your bag and try to remember the whole night. Who were the people you talked to? 

A lot. You talked to a lot of people but you really had no reason to take your ID out. 

You can only think of two possible ways you lost it. First was in the cab with Tsukishima. You shifted too much on your seat that it may have slid out of your back pocket. Second would be in their restroom where you changed clothes. 

You get your phone and text Tsukishima. 

‘Tsukki! By any chance, did I leave my id there or sumthin? >_<’

Tsukishima hears his message tone as he descends their stairs. He waits until he reaches their couch and then opens his phone to read the message. 

ID? Did you lose it?

Even if you did, you shouldn’t be too worried since it’s almost graduation. You won’t need it anymore. 

He types in his reply. 

‘Why bother finding it? You won’t need it soon.’

“Kei.” 

He lifts his gaze from his phone before sending it when he hears his brother’s voice. “What is it?” he asks. 

Akiteru sits on the other couch adjacent to the one he’s sitting on. “Any plans after graduation?”

He’d feel pressured and irritated from the question if it was asked by someone else. “I have an interview at the Sendai Museum next week,” he answers blankly despite feeling a bit certain of applying for the post. 

“I didn’t know you were already looking for a job. That’s great though!” Akiteru comments brightly.

“Yeah,” he answers lowly then looks down on his phone again. “Alright, then. I was just curious.” His brother smiles caringly then stands up. 

“Nii-san,” he calls before Akiteru leaves the room. 

“Yes?” His brother looks at him still smiling.

“Did you see an ID that’s not mine around?” he asks ambiguously because he doesn’t want to mention your name on the high chance that Akiteru hadn’t seen it. His older brother has bugged him about it non-stop after you took him home last week. He doesn’t want to remind Akiteru about it unnecessarily.  

“Silly me! I forgot to tell you. The other day, mom saw y/n’s university ID in the washing machine when she was hanging clothes. She gave it to me because you were still not home then. I’ll give it to you in your room later,” Akiteru grins widely then waves at him before heading up the stairs.

He’s relieved that he heard no more than that. He was honestly expecting more teasing, but fortunately, his brother seems to have toned it down now.

He gets to his phone again and types instead. 

‘Yeah. It’s here.’

Not more than a minute later, he receives your response already. 

‘Can u bring it in class or training? :D’

He easily types ‘Okay’ since it’s just a small favor. Then when he’s about to send it, his thumb hovers above the send button. 

He deletes it and sends a different reply.

‘No.’

You frown when you read his response. You thought he’s somehow warmed up at you already but seems like he’s back to being a salty ass. It’s just an ID. It weighs like nothing and can fit in his pocket. What’s the deal?

You’re drafting your reply when he sends another text message.

You quickly tap the notification that briefly flashed on top of your screen and raise your brows when you completely read it. 

‘Get it yourself. It’s in my room.’

After a few seconds, you shake your head and chuckle at what he meant with his superficially rude message. 

Tsukishima, you smooth tsundere bastard.

Part 7 || Part 9 || masterlist

Taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

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[saturdaysky]

Hello hello, would you tell me more about the Simple Stress Relief WIP? It sounds exactly like my cup of tea :D

(from the ask me about my WIPs meme)

But of course! It may very much be your cup of tea. :)

This WIP began as part of a tiny Valentine’s Day fic & art exchange on discord, and sort of took off from there. Here’s the summary:

The first day of the Aeor expedition goes horribly, and Essek cannot sleep. It’s a good thing, then, that Caleb knocks on his door late at night with an offer: no words. No complicated conversations. Just some simple stress relief.

If only things were simple between them.

Basically, Essek and Caleb have a one night stand in an attempt to Not Think About Things. Naturally, this is an excellent idea that doesn’t have any messy emotional repercussions in the morning.

In addition to writing what I hope are some hot hot scenes, I took the chance to explore a few things I’m interested in:

Essek’s anxiety, made worse by the shitshow of adventuring

Essek’s dedication to making sure the Nein live, at cost to himself

The weight of being trusted with someone’s safety

I reread this WIP and there are parts of it I really like! I hope to finish it sometime. As such, I shall post part of two scenes. They’re long because I’m proud of this and want to share. The shadowgast one is under the cut.

CW for: descriptions of anxiety, injury, blood, canon-typical violence (all this content is also under the cut)

Essek vs an adventuring-induced nervous breakdown:

The fire is low. It’s such a silly thing to worry about, Essek knows, but a chill has crept into the room. It curls in the corners like one of the Tower cats, and twines about Essek in a persistent and annoying fashion. 

He rises and turns the logs with the pretty bronze stoker Caleb had provided as part of the suite. It does little to alter the fire; some effect of magery, he muses idly. Then he settles back in at the gorgeous, thoughtful Vermaloc-wood desk he can’t appreciate right now, and resumes his preparations. Caduceus had given him tea earlier, and the homely cup pins down the corner of Essek’s notes.

(“You look like you could use a bit of soothing,” the firbolg had said, pressing a cup into Essek’s hands. “The Savalas were always good for that, very kind folks.” Essek had not even tried to comprehend the link between the two statements, merely thanked him and left.)

The brew had been good for his nerves when he’d remembered to drink it. Unfortunately, the chill has stolen this too, and the tea has long since gone unpleasantly cold.

He moves to replace the chipped cup on its saucer and stares blankly at his notes on hazards encountered on the first day of the Nein’s expedition into Aeor.

The day was… long. But they have all made it in one piece, so Essek has done his job, if he can only make his body believe it. Energy still thrums in his veins, and every sound, every quiet soothing whisper the Tower makes sets his teeth on edge. His shoulder aches, too, a distant pain he does his best to ignore.

There’s no threat here, in Caleb’s wonderful spell. It’s safe. Very few things can penetrate a well-hidden Mansion, and the Nein are comfortable, so Essek should be as well.

But.

But.

It has been only one day in the shattered city and his friends have skirted death a dozen times. It is difficult, he finds, to chase away the images of blood pooling in broken Aeorian cobblestones. Impossible to unhear the Nein's anguished yells or the soft oh Veth let out when a hidden ward impaled her before Essek’s eyes.

He does not know how to forget the heat of arterial blood as it seeps through his clamped fingers, nor the terrible speed at which it escapes the body of a friend. The phantom warmth of it still courses over his skin when his thoughts wander from his notes, like it has carved a channel in his mind and is flowing still.

It’s not. They’d all made it out, like they always do. But it is worse than he’d ever imagined, to adventure with the Nein. It’s terrifying.

The teacup rattles in its setting. Essek unclenches frozen fingers and lets it go, then presses his face into his hands, as if a barrier of bone and flesh could stop the images from painting themselves across his eyelids when he blinks.

Tomorrow will be better, he hopes. He has twelve and a half double-sided pages of notes on the dangers encountered, with proposed methods of avoidance and disposal. He has fixed them in his mind. Now he needs to rest so he can cast, but if the shocky pulses of adrenaline that hit him with each wayward memory of the day are anything to go by, rest will be elusive.

Well, when the mind is unwilling, the body must make do; he will have to wait for exhaustion to take him, and hope it is enough. He settles himself on the bed — thoughtfully equipped with both a padded incline for trancing and covers for sleeping — and breathes, and waits, and grows cooler by the minute.

It is paradoxically easier to ignore the images if he leans into them, he learns. Veth’s blood, hot and bright. The snick of the ward, which he will remember forever, just as he will the acrid smell of the ward-spell. Pain — an impact, nauseating but unimportant. Heartbreak and terror, on the faces of the Nein.

If he wears these sensations into his mind, the edges of them will fray and become familiar. A steady horror is better than an unsteady drumbeat of shock, at least for resting.

Time passes. Memory frays. And then, there’s a knock at the door.

Caleb proposes a one-night stand:

"I cannot sleep either," Caleb eventually murmurs into the silence. Essek considers what to do with the statement, and then Caleb adds, “But maybe we can help each other.”

He raises his head just enough to look at Essek from beneath his lashes, then leans forward and reaches out a hand slowly, pausing just before touching Essek's cheek. Essek can feel the slight heat of Caleb's skin in the air, and his throat goes dry.

Whatever Caleb wants is going to hurt, he thinks, and it's going to work because Essek is weak.

Caleb’s hand trembles. "You are right, you know. I did not knock on your bedchamber to talk. There is... much between us that requires words, but- This. This could be simple, for now. Tonight, it could just be us. There are many ways to forget."

Caleb is looking at him desperately, hungrily, from beneath those lashes and his regard sears through Essek, knocking the air out of him.

But the feeling sours in his stomach. He is done with that whole game. He lost it, utterly, and couldn’t see it until he’d traded away any chance at winning. Now, his remaining life can be counted in months, if not days. Now, thousands have died for Essek’s fruitless curiosity. Now, nothing is simple between himself and Caleb.

Oh. Perhaps Essek will get what he wants after all. It could be simple. He has done simple before: the garnering of a favor in exchange for his nights. It had been easy enough, sometimes pleasant, and had mostly provided useful leverage in gaining power to pursue his goals.

Tonight, something in him craves the simplicity on offer, of losing one's self entirely in the physical. It thrills him in a way it has not before.

"Caleb,” he says in a voice that is less steady than he’d like, “We both know you do not trust me, so why are you offering this?"

Caleb’s eyes take him in, inch-by-slow-inch. His palm settles on Essek's cheek. 

Caleb swallows audibly, and he looks over Essek with naked heat in his eyes. All at once, Essek becomes intensely aware that he’s wearing nothing but an open shell of his robes over a close-fitting black underlayer. There's a lot to see, if one was looking.

Desire hits Essek so strongly he's dizzy with it.

He wants this. He wants to push out the horrible memories of the day and replace them with Caleb’s callused hand sliding under his shirt and holding him close. He wants to hear Caleb’s beautiful voice roughen as they take each other apart, and then he wants to kiss that clever mouth so deeply that Caleb forgets his troubles and thinks only of Essek and pleasure and safety and hope, like those are things Essek could give him.

Caleb drags his gaze back up to meet Essek’s. His hand is distractingly warm. "We don't need trust for this," he says. 

It’s what Essek was expecting, but it stings anyway.

[floraotome]

me: the horrors persist, but i remain silly

friend e: that sounds like a perfect way to describe kdj

us both, at the same time: THE HORRORS PERSIST YET WE REMAIN SILLY

OK THATS IT

ORV READING THREAD FEATURING MY DEAR FRIENDS

[1000generations]

Thank you for the tag @little-lightning-lavellan and @rosella-writes!

This is from a story in which Fen'Asha Lavellan, in a desperate attempt to stop Solas from destroying Thedas as we know it, transports him to another world. Our world.

It's been a WIP for... 6 years. 😅 There is like... 200,000+ words of this self-indulgent nonsense. It needs so much reworking it's daunting. lol

This scene is from Solas and Fen'Asha exploring McDonald's...

Fen’Asha put her lips to the straw. She wanted to taste what he was tasting, wanted to partake in his world. She was bold enough to walk the Fade, confront dragons, defeat Corypheus. Plus, she was used to tea.

”Vhenan?” asked Solas, reaching out for Fen’Asha as she began coughing.

She shivered slightly, the coughs still plaguing her throat. The sweetness was shocking, as was the cold. “Shit.”

A woman from the table next to her shot her a glare.

“What is it?” asked Solas.

“It is so strange,” said Fen’Asha. “I have never had tea like this before…”

“Yes,” he said. “Most curious.”

She tinkered with her straw, raising it up and down in the lid of her cup and finding that it made an interestingly musical noise. She shook her head.

“Many things in this world are not as they seem,” said Solas. He dabbed a fry in Fen’Asha’s Sweet and Sour Sauce and pondered it.

“What do you mean?”

“Your tea is not tea,” said Solas. “The People’s Courtis not court.”

She nodded, letting go of her musical straw.

“Yet many things are real,” said Solas. “The news depicts real events, albeit with a unique point of view.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, picking up a fry.

“It appears that there is always something at the root of a viewpoint,” he said. “Some kind of interest. For the most part, this is translucent and I presume most anyone could see through the many smokescreens. And yet, I am not so sure.”

“They seem happy enough,” said Fen’Asha.

“They are being influenced,” said Solas. “To what degree they allow it is the question. It seems clear they are involved in their own manipulation to some degree, as this world does not behave in a way that would be considered sympathetic to its own survival. They ruin large swaths of their habitats, they commit horrendous crimes against one another for trivial reasons…”

“That does not sound unlike Thedas. The Blight…”

“A worthy example,” said Solas. “Many were not willing to see the Blight as a threat. Others preferred the comfort of their ignorance and concocted many alternatives to actual events. Just like here.”

She nodded.

“That is why it is important to remain vigilant,” said Solas. “With so much dishonesty, it can be easy to go astray. And it can be easy to want to go astray, especially if reality is painful.”

“I have never opted for what was comfortable,” said Fen’Asha. “Clearly.”

Solas nodded. “This is certainly true. Our path to here could not have been easy.”

“Nothing about this has been easy,” she said. “It has taken a great deal of time to come to peace with everything that happened. And even now, I’m not even close to being there.”

“You are uncertain about me?”

She nodded.

“There were – there are – reasons for my reluctance. I could not and cannot reveal the entirety of my plans because you would try to stop me," He paused, considering her. "I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She sighed. “I am sitting here in a restaurant with you. You want to destroy Thedas, our world, and I’m sipping some silly drink like nothing’s wrong with that. We had sex, shared a bed. We make small-talk. We go for walks, make plans for a future like we’re some stupid couple. Nothing about this makes sense and no, Sloane, nothing about this has been easy. It won’t ever be easy, Sloane.”

Solas made a face as a small child shrieked nearby. He turned to see the culprit racing away through a set of glass doors with an enraged adult chasing behind in a yellow coat.

“And yet what can I do?” she continued. “I’m here in this strange land, like you keep saying. I’m here with you whether I like it or not.”

“I see,” said Solas.

“You hold out hope that you’re going to get back to Thedas to finish what you started,” she said. “I hold out hope that I’ll be able to stop you from doing that. I can’t pretend that’s not happening.”

“I appreciate you speaking plainly, Vhenan.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “Because I have questions.”

“I am sure you do.”

“Why me?” she said.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he said.

“You are older than Arlathan?”

He sighed.

“And you are thousands of years old,” she said. “So why me? Why did you love me? My life is a flash for you, an inconsequential blip. You have lived so long. I have lived for mere minutes in contrast. I am…a fly.”

“That is a crude analogy,” he said.

“And you’re Fen’Harel. My god. Why would I think you would love me? Knowing everything…”

“I was never a god,” said Solas. “But that was what you wanted, what you expected. Your heart was always destined to break if it became entangled with mine.”

“So?”

“So I had already broken your heart once as Solas,” he said. “I had no desire to do so again.”

“But that is my burden, my pain. The choice is not yours.”

“My duty would always tear us apart, Fen’Asha,” he said. “It was because of me that you could not hold the gift of immortality. If there is a Maker in this world or the others, surely the Maker is laughing at me.”

“I think the Maker is laughing at both of us,” she said.

“At least as Fen’Harel, I could be near you,” he said.

“But you could have said…”

“We are moving in circles,” Solas said. “I tried to reduce my feelings. I knew what we had would only lead to lathbora viran, but you called for me and I answered. Like I always will.”

“You can’t keep…”

“I was selfish then. I am selfish now,” he said. “As Solas, as Fen’Harel, as Sloane.”

She sighed.

“I had hoped to assuage any temptation,” he said. “But reality crashed through. Our reality. When I learned of the Qunari plot at the Exalted Council, I had to act. And now, my mistakes must be rectified. There is no other way.”

“There always is another way,” she said.

“There should never have been a Veil. My life…much of it…seems to be a series of mistakes.”

“You would take so much to fix your error? You would insist the rest of us pay the price for your compensation?”

“There are other things at stake,” said Solas. “It is not so simple. The lyrium. The Blight. It matters little now I am here.”

“Thank the Maker for small mercies.”

He looked at her and for a moment irritation seemed to flicker across his face. He amended it into a tentative grin, then looked away as his eyebrows lowered.

“I will always try to stop you,” she said.

“I know,” said Solas. “But Thedas must be left behind for the time being.”

She nodded.

“And my desire for you…”

“You will leave that behind, too,” she said.

“No,” he said. He reached across the table for her hands. “No.”

“It’s not a good idea,” she said.

“You have doubts?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Then I wish to rectify that,” he said.

“Do you have doubts about me?”

“Not for a moment.”

“You haven’t made this easy,” she said. “Little of this makes sense.” She looked at a fry.

“I know,” he said. “But love defies explanation.”

“My mother said it was a gift…”

“Yes,” said Solas. “A choice. The reasons I choose to love you are…I simply want to. As you wanted to love me at one time. It is desire.”

“Love is more than desire,” she said deliberately.

“But desire is at the core. You can remove the love from desire, but you cannot remove the desire from love.”

“You are wise, Sloane,” she said after a pause.

“Even wisdom has limits,” said Solas.

Fen’Asha agreed, sipped her iced tea. She was getting used to the awful sweetness, to the way the drink cut into the corners of her mouth and made her tongue feel rough.

“For all the desire I felt for you,” continued Solas, “I subjected you to cruelty because of my selfishness. I never should have persisted in my desires. I should have fled sooner.”

“That’s one thing you do not understand,” she said. “I wouldn’t have traded in any of my moments with you. Even the painful ones. Because they were moments with you.”

“You could’ve been with someone, grown old with someone, had a family…” he said.

“I do not share the same wishes,” said Fen’Asha. “My family was you. Sera. Dagna. The Inquisition.”

“You did not desire children?”

She shook her head.

“But Hightown…?”

“You saw me in Kirkwall?”

Solas nodded. “I saw you through the eyes of the children, saw your kindness at the orphanage. Saw your insurrection in the faces of the nobles as they cursed you for bringing such a place to Hightown in the first place.”

Fen’Asha felt a chill. She had used Varric’s gift to her in Kirkwall, a mansion in the grandiloquent neighbourhood of Hightown, as an orphanage for the disadvantaged. She’d hired staff and enticed the right nobles, but that didn’t mean everyone took to the idea well. She thought back to the children in Thedas, wondered how they were doing.

“Some of the children saw it as a palace, a fairytale unwinding beneath their feet,” continued Solas. “Others saw dark corners and sinister hallways, not yet able to shed the horrors of their pasts. But in all of them, you were beautiful, an angel, bright as the sun.”

“More members of my family.”

Solas smiled warmly. “You would make a wonderful mother.”

“In the minds of many,” she said. “But it is not my choice in this life.”

He looked down.

“I am happy, Solas,” she said. “I do not wish for the same things as others, that’s all. I don’t want to be pitied because I don’t desire a family of my own. I am a Red Jenny. I was the Inquisitor. I was…yours. I served my clan. For a young elf from nowhere, for a nomad…it has been an incredible life.”

“It has.”

“And you were a huge part of that,” said Fen’Asha. Her fries were cold. “You still are.”

“You may be but a shooting star in my universe, a fleeting moment,” said Solas. “But you have made a permanent impression.”

She warmed. She wanted to touch him, feel him near. She wanted to reach across the table, wanted to kiss him with the mothers and fathers and children of this Edmonton watching. She didn’t care where she was as long as she was with him. She knew he would be the end of her. She knew she would be the end of him. She knew it hardly mattered now. She knew it was a horrible idea.

“I will always cherish you, Vhenan,” said Solas. “I will always love you.”

She was in his arms on his side of the table. She was sitting on his lap and he was caressing her back. She was cradling his face under his hood, under his necessary subterfuge against the misunderstandings of this world. She was breathing as he touched her hair, felt through its tresses. She closed her eyes as she kissed him.

He held her tight.

“I love you, Vhenas,” she said. “Always. Anywhere.”

I have no one in particular to tag. But I love to see what people are working on in the fandom if they care to share. 😊

[ichigo-daifuku]

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil [1]

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Pairing: Diavolo/F!Reader Genre: Soulmate AU, Fake Relationship (?), Misunderstandings, Fluff, Angst

Synopsis: During a confrontation between Diavolo and a certain witch who harbors unrequited feelings for him, he declares his intention to ask you to stand beside him in reigning over the Devildom someday. You conclude only one logical explanation for the insanity he uttered: this is his way of discouraging the witch from being so persistent. Although clueless, you play along and become ‘lovers’ with him.

Inevitably, your existing attraction for Diavolo grows, but the distinction between truth and lies, the crisscrossed lines of the right and the wrong, and the question of what’s real and what isn’t, begin to plague your mind and stir up trouble for your relationship with him with each passing day.

Entangled within the woven threads of soulmates and a royal prophecy, this is the story of the Demon Prince and his future Queen: you.

1 | 2 | 3 Chapter 1: See No Evil Word Count: 5k

A soulmark was an extreme rarity in the human world, a one in a million blessing the lucky ones were bestowed with. You knew no one who possessed one but were acquainted with many who were enamored by it and longed to receive such a privilege. A strange fascination enveloped the world whenever it was mentioned; with romance, fate, and destiny being constant subjects of both fiction and nonfiction works and media. The certainty of someone out there meant especially for you, to have and to hold, appealed to the majority. 

You were a part of the minority.

From the very first time you had learned of the idea, one thing has struck you clearly: rather than a blessing, soulmarks were a curse. To have a predetermined person you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with was the universe’s way of taking away your free will. The notion alone was suffocating. Nevertheless, while you wanted nothing to do with this system, fate had a funny and sadistic way of doing things.

On the night of your eighteenth birthday, the telltale sign of the burning sensation on your spine was all you needed to suspect a soulmark had emerged on your skin. Despite this, you convinced yourself you were wrong. It was rare, and there was no way you would be gifted with such a thing, especially since you had expressed a clear dislike for it. In an attempt to crush your worries, you marched to the vanity in the corner of your room and sat on the stool with your back on the mirror. You raised your shirt halfway and turned your head to peek. Above the hem, the tip of an ink-like marking, which hadn’t existed before, rested. The shock and horror of the sight drove your fingers to tremble and release the fabric, your eyes wide as you turned away. The exposed portion had been too little, but you were certain, imprinted on your spine was the lifelong sentence you despised—a soulmark.

You were the master of your own fate, and no soulmark could tell you otherwise. As more anger and resentment bubbled inside you, you decided that for the rest of your life, ignorance would be bliss. With this resolve, you stood, walked away, and pretended this fiasco never happened. Whatever it was that rested on your back, you vowed to never look at and considered to never exist. When somebody asked you if you had a soulmark, the prospect of the look of wonder they would give you made you want to roll your eyes and scoff, and you would smile and reply with a negative. After that night, you grew out your hair and made sure it would always be long enough to add coverage to your back whenever possible. You said goodbye to clothing that required to be zipped from behind and never once more turned to see your back’s reflection in the mirror. Sometimes, when you bathed, the soap and water running over your spine caused the curiosity you’d tried to suppress for as long as possible to spike, but each time, you fought the urge and succeeded. 

It was difficult at first, but since you had put your mind into it, time passed, and you adjusted to this lifestyle. Only reminded of the truth once in a blue moon, you did everything you could to conceal your dirty little secret from everyone else.

At present, you were an exchange student at the Royal Academy of Diavolo in the Devildom. Many things you had never thought to be possible were proven otherwise by your stay in this world. One thing, though, has never changed: your secret remained one you never dared to utter.

Everything in your life was in its rightful place until a fateful day when it all began to topple over like a house of cards.

One morning, the House of Lamentation was empty save for you. Lucifer informed you a week ago about their agenda today: to entertain a special guest, a certain illustrious witch, in the Demon Lord’s Castle. You offered your assistance in welcoming whoever she was, but Lucifer shook his head and declined readily. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he had paled, but you assumed he was tired and stressed out due to the preparations of their gathering. As the witch had requested the presence of all seven of the demon brothers, you were left home alone for the weekend.

The skirt of your white dress flowed backward as you made your way to the kitchen with a skip in your steps. To avoid sweating too much, you placed your cardigan aside, tied your hair, and donned an apron. You opened the cupboards in search of ingredients for pancakes and checked the pantry for strawberries, chocolate toppings, and a new bottle of maple syrup to replace the empty one in the kitchen. Determined, you prepared yourself to make a huge batch to share with the demon brothers, and more especially for Beelzebub, later when they returned.

The sound of the doorbell piqued your interest and led you to pause from mixing the pancake batter. Three possibilities of who could be behind the door left you guessing as you washed your hands and rushed to the entrance. Most likely, it would be the Akuzon delivery man who frequented the house due to Leviathan’s online shopping addiction. If not, it would be Mammon’s debt collector who was very persistent and difficult to drive away. Or it could also be an ‘acquaintance’ of Asmodeus looking for ‘a good time’.

To your surprise, the one who was behind the door was neither of those three.

The Prince of the Devildom stood in front of you in all his glory, dressed in a red button-down shirt and black trousers. It confused you why he would be at your door at this time of the day. The demon brothers were at the castle, and you assumed he would be there as well. “Lord Diavolo? What brings you here?”

“Good morning!” Diavolo greeted, unfazed by the surprised expression on your face. “I thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

“Hello to you, too,” you replied and gave him a shy smile. “This is a pleasant surprise. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I had to leave quite early, so I haven’t.”

“Would you like to come in and have breakfast with me? I’m cooking some human world food.”

“You don’t mind?”

“If you’re not busy, I’d appreciate the company.”

“Then, I accept.”

“Great! Please wait for me in the dining room.”

With a nod, Diavolo passed the threshold and shut the door behind him. You spun around and stepped forward, eager to finish cooking and share a meal with him. Although you received no reply from Diavolo, his footsteps were audible as he followed you. The burning sensation of his gaze caused you to glance at him from your shoulder, proven correct as his eyes shifted from your dress to your face.

“Is something wrong?” you asked.

Diavolo smiled and shook his head. “Everything’s perfect.”

“If you say so.”

The prospect of having breakfast with Diavolo left you excited. You had always enjoyed his company, and with everyone else occupied, you had a rare moment of being alone with him. It had been a while since you last dined together, and that time had been to check up on you and ask how you were liking your life as an exchange student so far. Ever since you had met him, he had been nothing but nice and well-mannered, though he did have a mischievous side that kept you on your toes. He frequently schemed of ‘fun’ activities centered on you and the demon brothers, and now, your mind would wander to him when something was suspiciously amiss.

You couldn’t deny how his sinfully good looks left you swooning when he wasn’t looking, but you weren’t naïve enough to be unaware your silly attraction to him was one-sided. It wasn’t as if you were pining for him. Even if your status as an exchange student from the human world opened up numerous possibilities for you to admire him from up close—like now—in the theoretical sense, you were only admiring him from afar. Still, as he entered the kitchen and offered to carry the trays to the dining room despite your half-hearted protests, insisting it was the least he could do, the domesticity of your interactions made butterflies float in your stomach.

“It’s delicious,” Diavolo commented. Elegantly, he sliced another portion of the pancake and took a bite. “This takes me back to the time when you cooked human world food for us during the retreat at the castle.”

“Yes, Solomon’s cooking was certainly… memorable.”

He grimaced. “Indeed.”

You chuckled and took a sip of your coffee, feeling warmth and contentment as your conversation flowed with ease.

As you and Diavolo conversed about the topic of demons in human media, with you telling him how their kind was portrayed and him debunking their inaccuracies, the front door swung open and slammed shut.

“Oh, they’re back already?” You perked up and stood, stepping out to welcome the demon brothers. 

Diavolo shook his head with a grim look in his eyes. He followed suit and faced the entrance of the dining hall, making sure his form was hiding you from sight. “No, I’m afraid it’s someone else. Please stay back, and let me handle this.”

“What are you talking about? Who could possibly be there—”

“Diavolo,” a sultry voice called.

The click-clack of high heels filled the silence as the owner of the voice entered the vicinity. Out of curiosity, you peeked from Diavolo’s shoulder and saw an attractive woman sauntering toward him, her eyes trained on his face, and a sly smile gracing her lips. She was someone you’d never encountered before. You were sure of this fact as her voice alone was remarkable, and she was even more beautiful than any of the succubi you shared classes with.

“Maddi,” Diavolo returned.

“Is that the way to greet an old friend?”

“How are you doing? All seven of the demon brothers were present at the castle. I take it they gave you a warm welcome?”

“They did, but it wasn’t warm enough,” she replied, crossing her arms. “You weren’t there.”

You had heard of her before. She was known as The Great Witch Maddi, and apparently, she was the special guest at the Demon Lord’s Castle. If that were the case, then why was she here, and where were the demon brothers who were tasked to welcome her?

Diavolo shook his head, retaining his cordial demeanor. “I have more important matters to attend to.”

“Is that so?” she queried, her voice dripping with disdain and amusement. “Anyway, I’m curious why you chose Solomon over dear old me for the exchange program. He’s a shady one, isn’t he?”

And you’re not? You bit back the sarcastic retort and opted to step forward to defend your friend. “Solomon is a powerful wizard who has made pacts with seventy-two demons, making him a suitable candidate and choice for the exchange program.”

Maddi’s eyebrows shot up in irritation as she sent a spiteful glance your way, her lips curving into a sneer. “Oh, who might this be? A human?”

Smiling, you held your head high and opened your mouth to introduce yourself. “Yes, I am—”

“Nevermind Solomon. You chose this plain and regular human over me?” Maddi asked, pointing her index finger in your direction, her tone condescending and accusatory.

For some reason, it was evident she wasn’t referring to the exchange program exclusively any longer. Was she Diavolo’s ex-lover? From the three minutes you had spent in her presence, it was easy to see how Maddi was so used to getting her way that it upset her whenever it didn’t happen. Truthfully, you couldn’t imagine Diavolo cozying up with someone like her. Since she had arrived, Diavolo has been trying his best not to look like he swallowed something unpleasant, even if the meal you served him was anything but. You’d never seen him this way before. He disliked her, which was strange because Diavolo liked everyone; he was one of the most pleasant beings you had met among the three worlds.

“It would be best for you to watch your tone, Maddi.” Diavolo placed an arm around you and stroked your clothed skin with his thumb comfortingly. “She’s not just any human.”

“Don’t joke around, unless…” Maddi narrowed her eyes, gritting her teeth. “Don’t tell me… Is it her? The one the prophecy is talking about?”

Prophecy? What prophecy?

The atmosphere was tense. You were in the dark about what was happening, but you understood bits and pieces from their exchange. As your mind wandered with speculations, Diavolo’s response almost made you choke on your spit.

“Yes,” he confirmed proudly.

“It can’t be! It was supposed to be me!” Maddi cried out. “No, no, no!”

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” you finally spoke up, making your statement as vague as possible to conceal your cluelessness.

“Shut up!”

You snapped, “You barge in my home, talk badly about my friend, and now, you’re telling me to shut up?”

“Home? This is the House of Lamentation.”

“I know. I live here.”

Diavolo stepped forward in an attempt to keep Maddi away from you. “Maddi, stop it this instant.” 

Maddi shook her head. “Diavolo, there must be a mistake—”

“This is hardly the time and place for it, but I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and now, I’m certain she’s the one in the prophecy,” Diavolo stated. He shot a fond smile your way and dropped the bomb on Maddi… and you. “She’s going to be the future Queen of the Devildom… if she accepts, that is.”

Eyes wide, you took a moment to steady yourself, taken aback.

What in the Devildom is he talking about?

There was only one logical conclusion for the insanity he uttered. It was obvious how Maddi had unrequited feelings for Diavolo, and this had to be his way of stopping her from being so assertive. If it would help Diavolo, of course, you’d be willing to do it, you would play along.

Sighing, you looked at him with a gentle smile and said, “Of course, I would accept.”

“You would?” Diavolo’s gaze shifted back to you, unable to mask his surprise at your agreement, hopeful. Since you had figured out his game, you caught the double meaning in his words, and you hoped he had caught yours as well.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“I won’t let you!” Maddi interjected. She stepped forward and raised her hand to your direction, a glow over the hollow of her palm as she opened her mouth to say the incantation to hex you, or worse, put a lifelong curse on you.

You shut your eyes and braced yourself for the impact, but before Maddi could do anything harmful, Diavolo encircled her outstretched wrist in a firm grasp. “I’ll think twice before doing that if I were you.”

Slowly, you opened your eyes. You were welcomed by the rare sight of Diavolo’s serious, livid expression, leaving your breath caught in your throat. 

“I hate you!” Maddi spat, her eyes full of scorn and unshed tears as she glared at you. She stormed off and slammed the door, leaving the two of you speechless.

At long last, quietness filled the room once again. In shock, you stared at the spot Maddi had occupied and processed what had happened until Diavolo tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and caught your attention.

He sighed. “I apologize for her behavior.”

“There’s no need for you to apologize. It’s not something you have control over.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” he replied with a small smile forming on his lips. “Did you mean it? You’re okay with this?”

You blinked. From what you had witnessed, Maddi was a handful. A possibility she wouldn’t let what happened slide and come back to haunt you was looming over your head. You were already on her hit list, and frankly, it would do you no harm to continue playing along with Diavolo’s charade. It would keep you safe, and it would help him continue driving her off. There were only a few months left until the exchange program was over. Your arrangement would end by then. There was nothing for you to lose.

“Sure.”

The demon brothers, who rushed home to stop whatever Maddi had plotted, arrived fifteen minutes too late. You and Diavolo were having the last of your coffee by the time they barged inside the House of Lamentation. Promptly, Diavolo and Lucifer had a meeting in the study room concerning the situation with Maddi. As for the rest of the demon brothers, they fawned over you and made sure you were unharmed while those who had the unfortunate luck of encountering Maddi prior to this mess shared accounts of their experience. The conversation soon shifted to all of them ranting about Maddi’s cunning behavior during her escape from the Demon Lord’s Castle. Even though none of them said it, they felt terrible for being unable to fulfill Diavolo’s request which resulted in putting you in unnecessary danger. You assured them you were fine, sneaking glances at the direction of the study room from time to time.

After half an hour, Diavolo and Lucifer concluded their meeting.

“Let’s continue this discussion tomorrow,” Lucifer said as the two of them emerged from the study room.

Diavolo nodded. “Yes, let’s meet at the Student Council Room after class.” 

You wondered about the specifics of their discussion, but before you could dwell on the thought, Lucifer turned to you and requested, “Will you accompany Diavolo to the door?”

“Of course.”

“See you all tomorrow,” Diavolo told everyone, gesturing for you to lead the way. “Let’s go.”

In comfortable silence, you walked beside Diavolo along the hallway. Your encounter with Maddi replayed inside your head, and though every word she had said screamed her dislike for you, a tiny part of you felt terrible for her and the pain of her rejection. She must have liked Diavolo a lot—loved him, even—but the feeling wasn’t mutual. From your perspective, that sounded awful. 

You halted your steps once you reached the entrance, addressing him as he pushed the door open. “Have a safe trip home. Thank you for today, Lord Diavolo.”

He paused and regarded you with amusement. “Just ‘Diavolo’ is fine. Call me by my name.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “Diavolo.”

“Good girl,” he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear and bidding you goodbye.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. After excusing yourself, you went straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, the morning’s events still occupying your mind. With how trivial the day had begun, you never expected the circumstances to progress this way. Your thoughts inevitably wandered to Diavolo, the serious expression you had witnessed from him burned in your memory. Somehow, you felt closer to him than you had ever been because of this experience. As the tenderness in his voice and touch from your last interaction left you restless, you reminded yourself this was all for show, and you had a new challenge ahead of you.

When Beelzebub knocked on your door to summon you for dinner, a part of you was unsettled for the questions the demon brothers would ask you about Diavolo. After everyone arrived and began eating, Lucifer relayed what happened with Maddi first and foremost, and then, revealed the ‘truth’ about you. He stated how Diavolo confirmed this morning that you were the one in the prophecy, the prospective Queen of the Devildom. 

“Haha! Ya tryin’ to be a joker, Lucifer? C’mon anyone can do better than that!” Mammon laughed at Lucifer’s ‘poor attempt at humor’ and downed his lemon juice in one go.

“If anyone here is a joke, it’s you, Mammon,” Lucifer said, shooting his younger brother’s idea down with a fierce glare. 

“Wh…? No way! You’re... You’re actually serious?”

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been having this conversation for fifteen minutes. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“In any case,” Leviathan interjected, sounding excited, “this is even better than the plot of I’m A Succubus Who Fell In Love With Heaven’s Number One Angel! What a turn of events… and posted!”

Satan sighed, regarding Leviathan with a look of exasperation. “Did you really need to make a social media update?”

“Duh,” Leviathan replied, typing away his next post.

Beelzebub, who had been busy eating this whole time, paused and swallowed a bite of steak, peering at your face worriedly from beside you. “Hey, will he make you happy?”

“He better,” Belphegor stated with narrowed eyes, both sleepy and threatening, “or else…”

“To be honest with you, I am kinda worried,” you admitted, finally speaking up. “Not about Diavolo, though, but…”

“If it’s Maddi you’re worried about, say one word, and she’s going to be taken care of, I assure you,” Satan said.

“Breaking News: Satan has just made a threat against The Great Witch Maddi. How scary the Avatar of Wrath is…” Leviathan commented, “and posted!”

Satan attempted to snatch Leviathan’s phone but failed. “Give me that!”

Although menacing, the words of comfort Satan offered you made you chuckle. “Thanks, Satan.”

“Of course.” Satan sent you a firm nod and went back to trying to get Leviathan’s phone.

“Well?” Asmodeus prodded from the other side of the table, placing his eating utensils down to fold his fingers.

“What is it, Asmo?” you asked.

“What are you waiting for? Spill the beans!”

“Don’t. I’ll eat them instead—”

“Not those beans, Beel.” Asmodeus shook his head and made a show of clapping his hands. “I’m talking about Lord Diavolo!”

Spill the beans about Diavolo? From what you had gathered from Lucifer and Mammon’s conversation, Diavolo told none of them, not even Lucifer, of the true nature of your charade. You trusted his decision, but while you kept your composure on the outside, internally, you began to panic. Did Asmodeus suspect something?

You cleared your throat and took a sip of your drink, feigning nonchalance as you asked with caution. “What about him?”

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about. Have you done it with him? Is he good in bed—no, scratch that—how good is he in bed? Does he prefer it rough or gentle? Which position is his favorite? How big is his—”

“Not another word, Asmodeus,” Lucifer’s booming voice demanded everyone’s attention, and the chatter and the sound of cutlery ceased at once. “Not. Another. Word.”

Asmodeus frowned but relented, picking up his utensils to continue eating his meal.

You had no idea how to answer the question Asmodeus posed, and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as the subject was shut down before it could even begin, silently thanking Lucifer’s aversion to the topic for saving you from responding.

The conversation shifted to more trivial matters, all of which you were more than happy to participate in, as long as none of them concerned you and Diavolo. Soon, you were laughing with everyone again. The mood was lighter, and the food was more enjoyable. Once dinner ended, you returned to your bedroom and reveled in the fact you survived the whole ordeal. No one but you knew the truth about your situation with Diavolo. The less who knew, the less complicated it was. It was best to keep it that way.

After you took your cardigan off and hung it aside, you began your routine for the night, thankful for the mundane task to keep your mind off things. As you changed into your pajamas, the fabric running over your spine sent a conscious feeling of your soulmark all over you, but as always, it didn’t matter. You fought the urge away, and your secret remained safe, even from you.

Turning the lights off, you laid in bed and stared into the abstract patterns in the ceiling, adding one more secret to those you had to keep.

The next day, the news of the confrontation Diavolo, Maddi, and you had at the House of Lamentation spread like wildfire all over the academy. Succubi sent impressed—some, envious—glances your way while incubi followed your form with unrepressed interest as you made your way to your classes. A few demons shook your hand and introduced themselves when you went to the cafeteria to eat lunch while a few others glanced at you with fear, much to your confusion. The scrutiny in their gazes was nothing new, but the way it increased tenfold had you on the edge all day. The moment Seductive Speechcraft, which was your final class for the day, was dismissed, you bolted out of the classroom at once, sighing when you reached the first floor.

What a day, you thought.

As you had haphazardly put them on, you fixed the straps of your backpack on your shoulders and slowed your pace as you made your way to the exit. Once you reached the courtyard, however, to your surprise and panic, Diavolo was making his way to you, an exhausted Lucifer in tow.

A glance around the area made it seem as if no one was around, but you knew better. With the way everyone had been watching you like a hawk since you stepped inside the campus this morning, the demons interested in your affair with the Prince of the Devildom were present but hiding from plain sight.

“There you are,” Diavolo said, his tone elated and satisfied. He turned to Lucifer and addressed him, “I’ll take it from here. Thank you very much for your assistance, Lucifer.”

“You’re welcome.” Lucifer nodded, shooting an exasperated glance at you and Diavolo. “Seriously, it’s only been a day, and the two of you are already such a handful…”

With a shake of his head, Lucifer left the two of you to your devices and climbed the staircase on the way to the Student Council Room.

As soon as Lucifer was out of sight, Diavolo stepped closer to you and moved to give you the item he was holding. “Here.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

You outstretched your hands and accepted his gift: a budding Mirage Flower in a little crimson pot with a golden ribbon tied around its center. Colorful iridescent petals glimmered in the most enchanting way you had ever witnessed, and you took a moment to appreciate their beauty. Every time you happened to see this flower, that time when you and the brothers were all worried about a ‘thief’ running around in the Devildom and stealing this plant, valuable and an endangered species, from the Western Forest would pop inside your mind. The ‘thief’ turned out to be Diavolo, who had been sneaking into the forest and moving the flowers to the academy in hopes they could be admired by the denizens in this world better. It had given you and the brothers a shock when you found out, but all in all, it was a funny memory to look back on.

However, as you held the flower pot in your palm, where it fit perfectly, another thought struck you and led you to blurt out, “H-Hold on. Isn’t this illegal?”

Diavolo let out a booming laugh, his head thrown back and his hand over his stomach, neither confirming nor denying your assumption.

“Diavolo…” You twirled the end of the ribbon with your index finger, truly questioning the legality of his gift.

“You forget,” Diavolo said as he smiled mischievously, “that I’m the Prince of the Devildom.”

“Even so. Is it really okay for me to have a Mirage Flower?”

“Of course.” He nodded, a finger reaching out to touch the flower bud gently. “I wanted something unique to be the first flower I would give to you, and I know you’ll take care of it. Besides, you’re a thousand times more special than any Mirage Flower in the Devildom.”

Right. You were supposed to be the future Queen of the Devildom.

It would’ve been such a shame if the Mirage Flower had been plucked and left to wilt in time. This flower was too precious for such treatment. You were grateful for Diavolo’s foresight, preferring to receive such a special flower this way. As you warmed up to his gift, you thought of the spots you could place it in once you arrived home and decided you’d put it on your windowsill and water it as needed. “Thank you. It’s really beautiful. I promise to take very good care of it.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Diavolo said, one of his hands reaching out to stroke your hair and cup your cheek. His golden eyes gazed straight at your own intently, and you couldn’t find it in you to look away.“I’m looking forward to this weekend.”

Confused, you cocked your head to the side, unintentionally leaning into his touch. “Why? What’s going on this weekend?”

Diavolo took your free hand in his and kissed the back of it, his warm lips leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. “Our first date.”

Several gasps erupted from the students hiding from various spots around you, and a few loud squeals followed. A camera flashed from a photographer from the RAD Newspaper Club who had stumbled upon the scene by accident, documenting this moment for future reference. At this point, everyone was done trying to conceal their voices, the scene in front of them too interesting to ignore, sparking numerous conversations among them. You overlooked the ruckus, your attention solely focused on the man in front of you, your heart beating like a drum as you smiled shyly.

“I’m looking forward to it, too.”

Notes: As of writing, we have yet to see how Maddi is truly like in canon.

Thank you for reading! This is a work in progress. I’d love to know your thoughts on the story so far if you’re keen on sharing them. (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

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[yeoldontknow]

I WANT ENOUGH!YEOL IN A HOSPITAL!AU BECAUSE I LOVE PAIN XOXO (also i love you so much)

i made myself hurt. i made myself soft. i made myself fall apart. here we are :(

send me a chanyeol + a prompt!

Verse: Enough + Hospital AU Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; plus size female; enough!reader) Rating: PG-13 Warnings: some sexual themes; heavy angst; romance; chanyeol cries and it breaks my damn heart; discussions of being overweight; the stigma of being a plus size or fat person in a hospital which is a really specific thing to experience; discussions of pregnancy Word Count: 1.4K

Three minutes. 

It only took you three minutes to know you loved Chanyeol. The day you met him, he was shy, a new hire. He shook your hand with confidence and smiled like he had something he wanted to prove to the sun. He was soft. He was handsome. But then, he sat beside you and he giggled. That day, his desk was decorated with welcome confetti - your idea, a tradition you started for each new member brought to the team. Flowers were placed next to his keyboard, ribbons on his stapler and notepad. Your idea too, a way to bring colour to the monotony of admin work. He giggled, joyful, unbridled, clapped his hands together and didn’t bother to hide the glee that overtook his features. 

It took only three minutes. 

Six months. 

It took six months of dating to realize you wanted to marry him. You didn’t say it out loud, certain this kind of admission was coming much too soon and much too fast, but you knew it was true. Over time, you had grown utterly disinterested in a life, in events, in plans that didn’t include him. You had a life. You had friends. You wanted him to be involved in every aspect of it. It was a Sunday, the day you told yourself you wanted to be his wife. A new thought, a new idea, one you had never tried on before - until Chanyeol, you were content with yourself. 

After Chanyeol, you were alive. You rolled over and cupped his cheek, whispered that you needed him, wanted him, craved him to his closed eyes and soft breaths. He didn’t wake when you touched him, and from the kitchen you smelled the coffee start to brew from the automatic start. You were making a life together. You wanted to age alongside him until your bones were ash.

It only took six months.

Two years. 

The earth moves slowly around the sun, but in Chanyeol’s arms life came quickly, and life came strong. Before him, when you were alone and at peace, you not once felt the urge to be a mother. You are not maternal - you are naturing, you are kind, and you are affectionate, but you are not maternal. Your reasons for not having a child outweighed and grew well beyond your reasoning for having one, but just the same way you woke up one morning wanting to be his wife, so too did you go to bed one night wanting to carry his child. 

It happened silently, suddenly, a thought that entered your mind abruptly while he dried his hair. Sitting on your shared bed, shoulders rounded and skin soft, you decided you wanted more of him. Another. An infinite amount of his hope, his smiles, his laughter, his temper in the world. You wanted family - not just him, your whole life, but a line of it, the kind of line that leaves scars in the earth long after you both have passed, a generation born out of love. You were still unmarried, close to calling him your fiance and still calling him your husband in your mind, a thought and a name you keep to yourself, but this too came quickly. Two years was too soon to want a child, a family, but you wanted it. You wanted it.

It took two years.

Chanyeol has been crying for three hours. 

With your hand held tightly in his, sits beside your hospital bed, eyes and cheeks wet, too afraid to leave your side. Head pressed against the pillow, you watch as he weeps, fights against the barriers that keep you separated, and clings to you as best he can. The back of your hand has grown wet with his tears, his body still wracked with fear and anguish. He’s your soft star, your heartbeat, and you bring your other hand to card through his hair, needing more of him. Needing all of him.

‘I promise I’m fine,’ you repeat. 

You’ve lost track of the number of times you’ve said it, the number of times you’ve done your best to affirm it, but still he does not believe you. His large eyes are stricken, painted with horror as he shakes his head, pushing the chair closer to your bedside, even though there is no more room to spare.

‘No,’ he argues, because he is stubborn, because he is insistent, because he refuses to let it go. ‘You fainted in the kitchen. You didn’t even wake up until we were halfway here!’ The stress creeps back into his voice, skin falling pale once more, and though you roll your eyes at his persistent challenge to your confident affirmations, your heart flutters, wondering how you ever coped without a love like his. 

Giggling, you stroke your finger along the tip of his ear, feeling his long eyelashes flutter against your skin. He’s burrowed into your arm, breathing your scent in deeply. If he could, you’re certain he’d be in the bed with you, unwilling to be parted.

‘Yes,’ you agree, nodding against the rough cotton. ‘But I have juice now.’ You cast your gaze to the bedside tray that contains a large juice box of apple juice. The straw reminds you of when you were a child, the days when you chewed the plastic out of anxiety. Today, it remains perfectly rounded, your toes having wiggled beneath the sheets with each excited sip. ‘I’m practically spoiled here. They even gave me peaches!’

Chanyeol shakes his head against your arm in vigilant disagreement, looking up once more with an expression that conflicts your heart. You would swoon by the sight of it, but are shattered by the pain of it, wishing he would believe you are whole, and you are well, if only so he could return to being your sunshine. 

‘I’m scared,’ he whispers, and you break. 

Laughing at the softness, the silliness of his anxiety, you pull him up to you, kissing his lips eagerly. 

‘Don’t laugh,’ he murmurs, kissing you once more with a groan. ‘I can’t cope if you’re not safe.’ 

The sound of the door opening interrupts you both, and Chanyeol returns to his seat, gaze fixated on the doctor who enters carrying a clipboard. His hair is greyed at the edges, glasses thin framed with lenses almost too thick for the wiring. Normally, you hate doctors. You hate doctors and you hate hospitals, neither a thing that seems to listen to women, all your problems and all your issues always somehow boiling down to your weight or your gender. You prepare yourself now for a reprimand that will almost certainly be moot, ready, once more, to be told you are not thin enough, not well enough, and certainly not privileged enough to be healthy.

‘Well,’ he begins gently, lowering himself to the rolling stool in the corner of the room, ‘your iron count is low which partially explains your fainting spell.’

Rearing back against the pillow, you cock your head in surprise, amazed that, no, this is not about your weight. ‘See!’ you exclaim, giggling as you nudge into Chanyeol.

‘But,’ the doctor continues, distracting you from Chanyeol’s sigh of relief, ‘congratulations are in order. Your blood tests confirm you’re pregnant. You’ll have to come back in a few weeks for a scan and a full pre-natal check up. There’s no way to tell how far along you are at the moment, so you’ll have to schedule an appointment with the nurse on the way out. Until then, I’ve prescribed a full pre-natal vitamin…’

A ringing in your ears overtakes the room, blood rushing simultaneously away from your head and into your cheeks, a conflicting experience that makes you feel dizzy. 

‘Baby?’ 

Chanyeol puts the straw of your juice box between your lips and urges you to sip. Obedient, you regard him with wide eyes, feeling ashen. He’s started to cry again, doing his best to maintain his composure for your wellbeing. And it is only when you pull back, the sugar and the sweetness taking root in your veins once more that you look back to the doctor, bewildered.

‘I’m sorry,’ you begin, finding your voice with care. ‘I’m pregnant?’

At this the doctor laughs, dropping his pen and offering you an understanding smile. ‘I understand this is a shock.’ 

Blinking through your shock, you feel Chanyeol fall into your chest, pressing kisses to your neck, your jaw, your cheek. Openly he cries, his hand wandering down your belly where he splays his fingers wide. 

‘I love you,’ he whispers. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’

‘Chanyeol,’ you mumble, stroking his hair with trembling fingers.

He pulls away to look at you with concern, a new wave of tears soaking his cheeks through his brilliant, otherworldly smile.

‘I’m scared,’ you whisper, and he rests his forehead against yours with a quaking sigh.

‘We’ll be fine,’ he assures. ‘I promise.’

[prettywordsyouleft]

Ulterior Motive

Pairing: Ji Changmin (Q) x reader

Genre: friends to lovers au / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1609

A/N: Happy birthday Em @soybeantree​!! I hope you’ve had a fantastic day! I hope this story makes your birthday just that little bit more special! It’s my first time writing Changmin, and I had so much fun doing so! 

“No way.”

“Just one!” Changmin begged, holding up his index finger near his face as he smiled encouragingly.

You laughed, shaking your head in response. “Oh, it is so not happening, Min.”

“Why not?! I have watched every movie you’ve wanted to even if its-” Changmin cut short with the stern look you gave him and laughed breathily. “And it’s been fun. Can’t you just give me one movie that I want to watch in return?”

“Me and a horror movie is not happening. We’ve been friends forever so I shouldn’t have to tell you why.”

“Your cousin was an asshole for locking you in that room and taking the remote away so you couldn’t turn it off. I beat him up royally, remember? But we’re adults now and it’s just one movie. Besides, I’ll be there the entire time,” Changmin replied and you sighed heavily, giving him a curious once over.

Normally Changmin would never be this persistent over you and horror movies. He had learned a long time ago that you didn’t watch them. You weren’t interested in the new paranormal movies or the gory kind of pastimes. You didn’t care for zombies either. Whatever the frightful content, you were fine with him watching them alone or going with a friend to see it. You didn’t knock Changmin for liking them, much like he never complained that you were a rom-com or periodic drama kind of person.

Well, usually.

Huffing a little, you squinted at the man. Changmin seemed agitated which concerned you. Why was today the day you had to watch a horror movie with him? Was there something he was planning? It didn’t bode well with you, given the context, and you folded your arms over your chest. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he corrected, reaching out to rub your shoulders. “I picked a tame one.”

“Tame? You mean, nightmare-inducing. I will have to hide behind a cushion and sleep with the lights on afterwards. Is that what you want?!”

His grin seemed to support this and you reached out to slap his arm and hiss at him. Changmin shook his head. “Y/N, I would never let you suffer.”

“So let me off the hook.”

“Just half a movie!” he offered and you groaned.

“Fine! Fine! What will you do if I have nightmares?!”

“You won’t,” he assured with a satisfied grin, directing you over to the couch in your apartment and setting up the movie. You looked at all your favourite snack foods on the table and then back at Changmin, smirking at him lightly.

He sure was going the extra mile with this.

Still, you weren’t exactly comfortable with the idea of watching a horror movie and it wasn’t even twenty minutes into it that you dove into Changmin’s side, burying into his chest as you flinched with fear.

Your friend’s arms were around you immediately and it felt entirely protective and warm. Although Changmin was always the type to loosely maintain some sort of skin contact with you, it wasn’t very often that you found yourself this pressed into him. You blinked slowly, focusing on the changes to his body. He was definitely working out at the gym more than you realised and you chewed on your lip as your hand relaxed against his abdomen. You remained hidden even after the scene was over, hoping the flare of colour to your cheeks would ease off and you could sit back up. The last thing on your mind now was the movie.

Jarringly, you managed to pull yourself away from Changmin’s safety a few minutes later, picking up a cushion from beside you instead. You used that to hide behind with a couple more of the jump scare moments, trying not to throw yourself back into his arms.

However, Changmin scooted closer, slinging his arm over the back of the couch to draw you into his side. “Use me.”

“Why?”

“Huh?” he breathed distractedly, blinking a few times before sheepishly grinning. “I’m able to comfort you more than a cushion. Besides, I promised you no nightmares.”

It dawned on you then that when watching a horror Changmin would be vocal about some scenes. He would laugh at most of the scarier parts as it was basically like a comedy for him, so all your mutual friends had expressed whenever they watched one with him. However, he had remained silent this whole time and at first, you thought it was for your sake.

Slowly, you added things up and smiled behind the cushion. Deciding to put your assumption into practice at the next scary moment, you threw the pillow dramatically and dove into his arms, feeling his heart thudding in his chest against your ear at how close you were now. There was no reason for him to be this reactive to the scene, and so you let out a triumphant laugh and snapped up to look at him.

“You sneak!”

“What?”

“Where is it?” you wondered, looking around the dimly lit room for evidence.

Changmin cleared his throat. “Where is what? Y/N, you’re acting strange.”

“I could say the same to you, Changmin! You didn’t want me to watch a movie just for the sake of it. I’m sure you’re trying to film my reactions!”

“What?” he asked, shaking his head. “No.”

“Then why-”

“I wanted this,” he blurted out, gesturing with his head to your close proximity. He grew hesitant, shy even and your eyes widened, watching him with high interest.

It wasn’t every day Changmin would show his vulnerable side so openly like this.

“T-this?” you stammered, looking at the way you were in his arms. More of your body was pressed against him than before and you blinked with confusion. “You mean, you wanted me in your arms like this?”

Changmin nodded, biting his lip adorably in the process.

“Why?”

“Because you’re so dense towards my affection! You friend-zoned me years ago and I’ve had a really bad week so I wanted you to need me like this just once in my life.”

“You made me watch a horror movie with you just because you wanted to cuddle?!”

“You make it sound so ridiculous,” he objected and you cocked your head to the side. “Which it is but humour me this once, Y/N.”

“And then what happens?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you said I friend-zoned you,” you explained, giving him a hard look. “Do I snuggle with you now and then put you back there?”

Changmin’s head dropped and he sighed. “I guess.”

“That sounds miserable.”

“Well, I’m not miserable right now,” he announced, holding you more closely.

You allowed him to do so, nestling your head against his chest comfortably. His hand mindlessly ran up and down your back and you shivered against it, enjoying the moment almost as much as he evidently was. You could tell the protagonist in the movie was having a hard time behind you and you didn’t even care, relaxing into Changmin’s embrace further. You were now all but within his lap, curled up completely against your friend.

And when you felt his embrace around you start to ease off after an immeasurable moment, you gripped onto Changmin tightly. “I never friend-zoned you.”

He laughed. “Oh yes you did.”

“I really didn’t,” you chimed back and Changmin pulled away to gauge your expression. Your cheeks were flushed from enjoying the comfort he was giving you but you were genuinely staring at him with adoration. And then you groaned and rolled your eyes. “You’re so silly.”

“Me?!”

“If you wanted my comfort, you should have just asked. We could have saved the horror movie being put on!”

“Hardly, you’d be suspicious of why.”

“I was suspicious of you earlier. Did you think that me leaping in your arms would satisfy you?” His immediate reaction confirmed your question and you laughed, nudging him playfully with your nose. “So silly.”

“Then tell me straight. Am I friend-zoned?”

“You’re my friend,” you started and his face fell. Cupping his cheeks within your hands, you grinned. “But I’ve always wished you were more than that.”

“You… but… really?”

You nodded. “Really.”

“So I can hold you whenever?”

“So long as you don’t go holding Kevin or Sunwoo like this too,” you agreed with a giggle and Changmin joined you.

The laughter soon eased off and you stared at each other intently. Changmin smiled slowly. “I’ve liked you for too long, Y/N.”

“Probably not as long as me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let me have my moment.”

“Why, does it feel like a dream?” Changmin nodded and you grinned. “Well in my dreams, I’m always bold, so…” You pressed your lips to his then, kissing him slowly. He met your approach with added hunger, hands reaching for your waist and pulling you into his lap. Your kiss deepened as you reached to sling your arms over his shoulders, smiling against his lips before you pulled back.

“I don’t want to wake up,” he breathed and you nuzzled his nose with your own again.

“Then don’t.”

A second kiss happened and then a third and by the time you were both more than addicted to the taste of each other, the movie had finished, the credits now rolling on the screen.

You laughed and pointed at it. “Hey look! I lasted through an entire horror movie!”

“We didn’t really watch it, so it doesn’t count.”

“So? Technically I watched a horror movie with you tonight. And you were right about something.”

“What?”

Smiling giddily at Changmin, you lowered your mouth to just above his. “I won’t be having any nightmares tonight.”

_________________

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