#there's something sweet...and almost kind. but he was mean and he was course and unrefined. and now he's dear...and so unsure...

[petricorah]

🎵 there's something there that wasn't there before 🎵 [ids in alt]

for @caffeinatedhobbit ! sending good feelings back :3

[sweetpandorabox]

Sing - Neville Longbottom x Female Reader (One Shot)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑��𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: You're a talented and one of the most beautiful female singers Hogwarts has to offer, but know not a lot of people are aware of your remarkable talent including your boyfriend of 1 year Neville due to shyness, not being aware of your surroundings you sing until your heart can content not knowing who's been listening.

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Female Reader

Story Setting: This fanfiction is set in your 4th year of Hogwarts during the Goblet of Fire. (anything in italics and bolded it's you singing).

Warnings⚠️: None this one is pure fluff.

A/N: Hey sexy it's Angel here, this week I've decided to write some more super short one-shots for all of you, I'll be sure to make one for at least all of the Harry Potter boys and girls because it's super easy, and, and don't require a lot of time, anyway enjoy love you. xx

Word Count : 593

✯¸.•´¨*•✿ Sing✿•*¨`•.¸✯

"There's something sweet and almost kind but he was mean and he coarse and unrefined...and now he's dear and so unsure I wonder why I didn't see it there before", you sing out ethereally brushing your wet hair after a warm shower in front of a mirror you had hanging on the wall above your dresser, wearing your matching set of satin shorts and tank top, "New and a bit alarming who'd have ever thought that this could be?...true, that he's no Prince Charming but there's something in him that I simply didn't see..." you continued using your hairbrush as a pretend microphone, humming the rest of the song before taking your towel and turning around making your way to the bathroom across the dorm room.

Your eyes widen at the stumble sight of your boyfriend Neville, who masters the best most joyful smile he can staring right at you with a shade of crimson peeking on his cheeks, "How long have you been standing there?" you asked as panic trails behind your voice, with red swarming your face, "Long enough to find out that you're extremely talented" he ushers walking closer to your small figure, despite being only 14 he towers over most of the boys like Harry, Ron, and others including you, blush creeps your face unaware that you're in your pajamas and alone for the 1st time with your boyfriend, in your shared dorm room with other Gryffindor girls who are currently away. "Why didn't you tell me you liked to sing? you're a beautiful singer and a bloody talented one too", he mentioned tucking some wet strands of hair behind your ear to see your face better.

You both blushed furiously at Neville's action, "Nev, I was too shy to sing in front of you and I still am, I wasn't aware that you were right by the door... I was going to sing for you eventually but I guess you've already found out now" you answer fiddling with the hem of your shorts, Neville smiled before taking a scan of your whole body staining the crimson shade on his cheeks even bolder with your hair so majestically wet and your soft looking pajamas cling on to your body frame and parts perfectly, making him swallowed hard before he takes your hand in his as the other hand lifts your chin to look at him, "Well I'm glad I was here just at the right time, I came in to check up on and to ask if you wanted to go to the Yule ball with me?". You smile at your tall yet dorky boyfriend tackling him into a hug.

Thud! as fell right on top of Neville, before the both of you groan in slight pain, "Of course, I'd go with you to the Yule Ball I love you, Nev!" you answered giggling in the process, all Neville did was smile at you still laying on the floor he pulled you into a sweet long-lasting kiss and said " I love you too Petal, more then you'll ever know", you both smile widely at each other before Neville offers a hand to lift you up, "By the way, I'm a big fan of your pajamas" he added as he lifts you up, your face went blank before scanning your outfit of choice, "Oh my god Nev why didn't you tell me! this is so embarrassing" you yelled out covering your beetroot face with your hands before he hugged you and laugh it all off before you eventually join him.

[cornerofhell]

Tiffany: There's something sweet, and almost kind

But he was mean, and he was course and unrefined!

And now he's dear, and so unsure....

I wonder why I didn't see it there before....

Chucky: She glanced this way... I thought I saw...

And when we touched she didn't shudder at my maw

No it can't be- I'll just ignore.

But then she's never looked at me that way before...

[lume-nosity]

there’s something sweet

and almost kind

but he was mean and he was course and unrefined

but now he’s dear and so unsure

i wonder why i didn’t see it there before

[viisiond]

something there but ganzhu

[agentrouka-blog]

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring.

An underrated Jonsa quote tbh. I just feel like there is something so telling about how Sansa thinks her and arya’s relationship would be “easier” if she was a bastard like Jon. Comparing her relationship with Arya with her realtionship with Jon. What does that mean? - Is there something about her and Jon’s distant relationship as a bastard that could make something easier? Idk but it feels important since this is the first Jon mention in Sansa’s chapter.

+ bonus that we have proof that Sansa acknowledges that Jon has the Stark Look, considering her first crush Waymar resembles the Starks.

Hi anon!

To be honest, I never really connected this quote to Jonsa directly so much as to RLJ, which is of course a massive aspect of jonsa.

The bigger context of the quote gives a little more insight:

She was almost in tears. All she wanted was for things to be nice and pretty, the way they were in the songs. Why couldn't Arya be sweet and delicate and kind, like Princess Myrcella? She would have liked a sister like that.

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon's mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn't been some mistake. Perhaps the grumkins had stolen her real sister. But Mother had only laughed and said no, Arya was her daughter and Sansa's trueborn sister, blood of their blood. Sansa could not think why Mother would want to lie about it, so she supposed it had to be true. (AGOT, Sansa I)

(The RLJ here is pretty blatant. Jon looks just like Arya, who has the Stark look. Jon’s mother is only ever whispered about. No one would lie about the true identity of a baby unless they had a reason. Sisters might, incidentally, get stolen. Arya, we later learn, looks quite like Lyanna, the sister who was stolen. Goodness, what could it mean?)

But the top layer of the passage is about Sansa’s relationship with Arya. It’s not that the relationship itself would be easier, it’s more that it would explain Arya herself. She understands Jon better than she does Arya.

Sansa cannot understand Arya's nature and thinks it would be easier to understand if she was a bastard half-sister with a common mother, like Jon's is whispered to be. It would explain why Arya is so uninterested in ladylike activities and so drawn to playing with an unrefined butcher boy like Mycah instead of Sansa. Surely, a properly trueborn lady would just naturally be drawn to the things she is supposed to do? But apparently not, since Arya is all of those things, but still won’t follow the rules Sansa has been taught to adhere to all her life. Mayham and chaos! Vast dismay!

(Yes, she is a classist little baby. She has been taught to be. Just look at Jon doing that exact same thing with the recruits at the Wall.) 

The paragraph does a nice job building on Sansa’s relationship with Jon as introduced in Arya I. The class differences that exist are an important lens through which Sansa perceives Jon.

"Jon says he looks like a girl," Arya said.

Sansa sighed as she stitched. "Poor Jon," she said. "He gets jealous because he's a bastard."

"He's our brother," Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room. (...) 

 "Our half brother," Sansa corrected, soft and precise.  (AGOT, Arya I)

Sansa is not impressed with Jon’s remark (hence the sighing), but finds it easy to understand because his lot in life is unfair. And she is right: he is jealous because he is a bastard. Unlike Arya, who doesn’t generally (like to) acknowledge class differences, Sansa finds the “half” part of brother signficant because it emcompasses what this means for Jon and how differently he experiences the world because of it. Jon is an “other” primarily because he is the one being treated differently and facing different standards. She understands that this difference is painful to him, that he may have aspirations that will never be met.

Notably, she doesn’t consider Jon to be “common” in his sensibilities, in spite of his rumored lowborn mother. 

"There was a black brother," Sansa said, "begging men for the Wall, only he was kind of old and smelly." She hadn't liked that at all. She had always imagined the Night's Watch to be men like Uncle Benjen. In the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. But this man had been crookbacked and hideous, and he looked as though he might have lice. If this was what the Night's Watch was truly like, she felt sorry for her bastard half brother, Jon. (AGOT, Sansa III)

If she did not think Jon to be at least similar in nature to highborn Uncle Benjen, a man who would apparently fit the title “black knight of the Wall”, then she wouldn’t feel bad for Jon at this unpleasant reality. This is another instance where Sansa actually understands Jon better than some of his closer siblings, because none of them look at Yoren and surmise that the Watch may be a massive disappointment to Jon. 

It’s actually rather endearing that Sansa uses Jon as a comparative diagram to try and explain Arya (even if it fails) because it implies that he is a familiar category she is relatively comfortable with. Arya looks like Jon and both look like Starks. It’s just that unruly Arya refuses to fit into it.

What I take away from this for Jonsa is that 

Sansa is actually pretty well equiped to understand Jon as a person because she is attuned to the classist standards that haunt him (and which actually also define his perception of her) even as she has learned to question them in her journey so far,

Sansa placing importance on the precise nature of family relationships is going to be significantly helpful when they change (Comparable to Jon’s “Would you bed your sister?”/ “Well, technically that guy wasn’t your brother, so...”), and

Sansa actually thinks fairly highly of Jon, as befitting a “black knight of the Wall” or a trueborn Stark like Uncle Benjen. He simply is not her true brother.

My long-winded way of saying, “yes there is jonsa in this, but I see it a little differently from you and I just like endlessly rambling about jonsa”. 

[notebooks-and-laptops]

‘There’s something sweet, and almost kind. But he was mean and course and unrefined. Now he’s dear, and so unsure. I wonder why I didn’t see it there before’

Just realised Aban Adaar (socially awkward, always says the wrong thing, people type cast him as a monster despite the fact that he's soft and loves gardening) and his girl Josephine Montilyet (outgoing, kind, warm, well-read, clever) are literally just beauty and the beast.

[princessdaily]

there's something sweet, and almost kind,    but he was mean and he was course and unrefined and now he's dear and so i'm sure,    i wonder why i didn't see it there before

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Kiss

Kai sighed lightly as he waited for his breakfast. Both he and Cole were sat in a small dining room with a few portraits and objects dotted around. In the center of the room, there was a beautiful breakfast table with Kai at one end and Cole at the other, with Jay and Echo between them. Kai was served breakfast first. It was a steaming hot bowl of porridge with slices of fruit sprinkled on top. As he began to eat the tasty food, he looked at Cole, gobbling up his food with no table manners whatsoever.

Kai turned away and tried to ignore it, but Nelson came to the rescue.

He nudged the spoon with his little finger, and Cole reached out for it. Kai looked at him in wonder and confusion as he tried to eat with the spoon, but he had little success. Nelson and Jay laughed, but Echo shot them an admonishing look. Finally, Kai put down his spoon and lifted his bowl as if in a toast. Cole looked at the compromise and did the same. They both began to sip their breakfast out of their bowls. They stared into each other's eyes as they sipped their breakfast and silently placed the bowls back on the table.

The prince and the brunette stared at each other before they finally had the sense to break eye contact.

"That was awkward," Cole muttered, but Kai still heard it.

"Well I certainly won't do it again, I think I'd rather deal with another one of Morro's wedding schemes than go through that again." He joked lightly. At the word, 'wedding' and a foreign name the room spun towards him.

"Be pardon?" Echo asked as he, Nelson, and Jay all looking at Kai with confused eyes with a hint of fear. Kai closed his eyes and grumbled to himself, forgetting everyone in the room. He had been away from home too long.

"Who is Morro?" Cole asked and Kai's eyes snapped open at the firm anger in his voice. His narrowed eyes matched the expression along with something else Kai found curious. It was possessiveness. If he wasn't stuck in such a position, Kai would've smiled and teased him for it, but he knew better. Besides, he and Cole promised to be honest with each other. Kai was distracted by a tug on his sleeve. Nelson, who returned to his creature form, fidgeted nervously.

"Is Morro your lady?" He asked quietly. After a short spasm, Kai was positive his heart had stopped.

"Of course not!" He exploded without thinking then mentally kicked himself when Nelson and the others jumped back. He gave them a small smile in apology for the misunderstanding. Hearing a possessive and impatient growl behind him, Kai sighed and turned his body to the right. The look on Cole's face demanded he explains this. "He's a childhood friend of mine, or at least he used to be." He added. He looked Cole in the eye and kept his face neutral, wanting to see Cole's reaction before doing or saying anything he might regret later on.

A wave of jealousy Cole only now just realize was bubbling inside him suddenly relaxed.

His stomach flopped in an emotional puddle of happiness, anger, guilt, relief, possessiveness, and sheer stupidity. It took all his will to keep himself from visibly scolding himself for his own arrogance. Hadn't he and Kai agreed to be honest with the other? Who was he to act so possessive of a teen who technically wasn't even his? The realization sent a painful jolt through his gut, but he wasn't naïve enough to admit to something he knew wasn't his decision to make.

Again he kicked himself.

Of course, this Morro person was probably a friend of his. Time had blended together for so long, he almost forgot Kai wasn't from the castle. He forgot Kai had a home, a family, and a possible relationship Cole had dragged him from. But Cole was sure Kai would have told him if he had that.

"What happened to Morro?" Jay suddenly asked before Cole could stop him. Kai said nothing for a moment before he glared daggers at the now-empty bowl as if it was Morro. Upon seeing Kai's distressed look, Cole reached over the table and took Kai's tanned hand into his scaly ones.

"Kai, if you don't wish to tell us about this Morro person them don't; we understand, just take your time." He reassured the teen, squeezing his hand slightly. Kai was a little stunned by this but smiled and squeezed back.

"That was kind of you," He said and the dragon prince flushed when he found Kai smirking at him.

"That's our Master." Jay agreed and the others all nodded, and Kai had to agree. Even as Cole grimaced and dismissed the staff with a bark, Kai caught the smile in his green eyes. He laughed, irking a growl from the Dragon Lord.

"What's so funny?" He asked, more embarrassed than annoyed, and handed Nelson his dishes when he started gathering them up.

"I just find it very ironic," Kai teased and gently shoved his leftovers towards a drooling Jay. The blue fox barely got it in his mouth before Echo plucked him off the table by his tail and dragged him off the table and back to the kitchen. Nelson chuckled and followed the couple.

"What's that?" Cole asked; his eyes shifting double-checking to make sure they were alone. A teasing smile slit Kai's face.

"That you act all tough and intimidating when you're really just a big softie." He giggled and Cole stoically dropped his spoon. Kai couldn't hold back anymore and laughed so hard he lost his grip on the table and fell out of his chair. He laughed until his sides began to hurt. He clenched his side with an arm to stifle the pain and banged the other fist on the ground. He didn't stop until Cole pounced and landed in front of him. Kai almost jumped out of his skin.

Especially after Cole kneeled over him and pinned him against the side of the table with his claws.

A devious smirk in his eyes and a wicked fanged smile flashed in Kai's direction.

"Don't do that!" Kai snapped, furiously. His face flushed with anger when Cole started laughing.

"Now, when did you get so jumpy?"

"Since you decided to take it upon yourself to scare the wits from me," Kai growled as his eyes lit up, recognizing the game, but unyielding to surrender. Using his smaller size to his advantage, he carefully and slowly rolled to the left then faked right, then slid under Cole's left arm and made a dash; only to flop over when something grabbed his ankle. Kai realized his mistake too late. Before he could move, Cole's tail yanked him backward and he landed on his back.

Cole didn't waste a second and pounced on top of him.

"Now where do you think you're going?" The Dragon Lord teased as he kneeled over the teen until their foreheads touched. Kai flushed at the contact and bit his lip trying to regain control of the situation.

"To help clean up?" He blurted in an obvious last-ditch effort and flashed a guilty-innocent smile. He shivered when Cole's smirk curled into a devious smile.

"No, my little captive, you've insulted me and need be punished." He purred lowly. Kai opened his mouth to question further but the words were chocked by an explosion of pearly laughter, and the vibrations sent up his sides by the strokes of Cole's claws. His hands shot to stop them, but Cole's tail grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the floor, pinning him. Another fit of giggles and pleads erupted from the teen. Cole smirked at his captive and felt himself laughing also at the sight.

His knuckles grazed up and down Kai's ticklish sides.

He refused to use his claws in case he hurt the brunette. A sudden joy filled him every time Kai laughed, whether it was from the play or just in general.

"Cole... please... I can't breathe," He choked through fits of laughter. Cole laughed but shortened his attacks to give his captive more room to breathe.

"Just apologize and I'll stop."

"Do I have to?" Kai whined, half-panting, half-laughing. He got his answer when Cole stroked one of his sensitive sports. "Okay, Okay, I apologize."

"Un-uh, you have to say it the correct way."

"Oh come on," Kai whined, with tears in his eyes from the play. Instead of giving him more tickles, Cole leaned forward, and lightly held Kai's free hand with his claws then kissed him chastely on the lips. It was short and brief, but the intensity of it galvanized Kai's entire body. He barely felt Cole pull away, but when he did and Kai was suddenly thrown back into reality, he felt strangely empty.

"Alright, I'm sorry I insulted you, now can you please let me up?" He finally conceded.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Cole teased, and sat up, releasing Kai. Normally, Kai would've been annoyed to the bitter end at the arrogance of the teasing, but surprisingly he found himself comforted by it. Comforted that the playful tone was reserved for him and him alone...

****************

After they finished their breakfast, Cole urged Kai to dress up warmly and to follow him out into the courtyard. It had been snowing heavily the last few days, so the entire forest and castle were covered in deep, glittery snow. Icicles hung from the trees and castle, like Christmas decorations that sparkled in the sunlight. Kai might not like the cold, but even he would say it looked beautiful. As Cole and Kai walked through the courtyard, Kai noticed a flock of small birds and stopped to feed them.

Cole smiled as he watched the birds flock towards the brunette and peck the food in his hands.

Kai could feel the prince's gaze on his back but said nothing. He couldn't stop thinking about the Dragon Lord's change in personality and his new playful nature. There was something sweet, and almost kind. He remembered how Cole was mean, coarse, and unrefined when they first met. But now he was dear and so unsure of himself. Kai started to wonder why he didn't see it there before. Thinking that feed birds looked easy and fun, the hybrid knelt beside his captive, who smiled and passed him the bird seeds.

While trying to attract the birds, Cole shoved a handful of seed at them, but they jumped back in fright at his sudden movements.

Kai barely managed to hold in his giggles at his watched the prince's efforts. Finally, when he saw how upset Cole was getting at his repeated failures, he took a handful and gently spread it out, creating a thin trail. After a minute, one landed in Cole's hands, and he looked up at the brunette, thrilled. Kai smiled gleefully as one of the robins landed on his finger. He didn't notice his hand brush against Cole's scaly one as he stood up and wandered off

Cole felt a warm feeling bubble in his chest at the brief touch, but he didn't want to believe that Kai actually loved him.

Then again, Kai has never been this nice to him before, so it might just be possible. Kai ducked around a tree, leaving Cole with the birds. He began to look doubtful again, but turned his head around the tree and laughed when he saw Cole was covered with birds before he twitched and they all flew away. Kai snickered at the startled, yet proud look on the prince's face. These feelings were new, and a bit alarming to the brunette. He had never, ever thought that this could happen.

True, that Cole was no Prince Charming, but there was something in him that Kai simply didn't see.

With a mischievous smirk, Kai threw a snowball at Cole, knocking him back into the snow. When he realized what had happened, Cole grinned and began to gather a large pile of snow. Kai quickly threw another snowball at Cole, who dropped his huge pile of snow on his head. He chased Kai around a tree, but he ducked around the other side and sneaked up on him from behind, but Cole dodged the incoming attack. The Dragon Lord swaggered towards his victim, placed his hands on his sides, and leaned forward slightly so he was more level with Kai.

"It seems I have the advantage now."

"That's not fair!" Kai squealed as he slid away, trying to get to his feet again. Cole had to admire his persistence. He offered Kai a hand, which the teen reluctantly took. He gasped when Cole pulled him to his feet and he crashed against the dragon's warm chest.

"Hey!" Kai half complained, a large smile split across his face. Cole couldn't get enough of that smile and Kai couldn't help but blush at the adoration in those lovely eyes. They didn't need words to express what they wanted or how they felt. All they had to do was feel and move, so they did. Kai moved his arms so they were around Cole's neck and stood on the tips of his toes to better match his height. Generously, Cole wrapped his arm around Kai's waist pulling him closer, and leaned down so their foreheads and noses pressed together.

They were both too proud to speak, too bold to resist, too nervous to take the next step on their own; so instead they did it together.

They both closed eyes, and leaned forward. Their lips brushed then met at the same time, sweet and unhurried, but it wasn't enough, they wanted even more. Kai leaned forward as much as he could. He pulled Cole closer against him and pressed his lips deeper against his. Cole obeyed and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss. It deepened and lessoned on its own accorded, never once losing its sweetness. It was a battle of will and dominance.

It was a mutual desire.

An equal pushing and pulling of their emotions and heartstrings. When they pulled away, they were still dazed. Still holding the other tightly, trying with all their might not to lose the moment. Only when reality dragged them back into its clutches did they finally understand what they had done, but unlike before they didn't pull away. But the nervousness returned in full force. Kai bit his lip and looked away. Cole set him down, his expression was much more somber.

Neither had the courage to say anything, but they didn't need to.

As they walked back to the castle in the freezing snow, neither of them saw they had an audience. Above them, staff members crowded at the windows for a better look or flooded the balconies. They didn't notice the giddy looks and squeals from the staff mates or the groans of others who'd lost bets or were missing the action. Nor did they noticed the narrowed eyes watching them from the woods, already forming a devious plan to ensure this was indeed their last kiss...

[semetarycosplay]

There’s something sweet, and almost kind, but he was mean and he was course and unrefined.  Photos: Photography by Natalie Stacker

[elysmi]

Something there // Zuko x Y/N

Based on ‘Something there’ from Beauty and The Beast

Warning: Zuko being aangsty

I recommend listening to the song as you read.

Also, the gif is not mine.

~~~~~~

Something there

Y/N rested against a tree, her eyes glued to Zuko as he sparred with Aang

‘There's something sweet, and almost kind’

Her mind and heart seemed to be at war with each other as she watched him gracefully move his body to dodge Aang’s fire.

She remembered the night before, when she remained outside after everyone went to sleep, keeping herself warm by the fire as she thought about her home.

“You mind some company?” Zuko smiled as he sat down next to her.

She smiled back at him.

“Not at all.”

His eyes met her e/y ones, and a blush appeared on both their faces.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked her.

She sighed, looking down. “My parents. I left them after the eclipse, they told me to go, that it’ll be safer for me.

I’m worried about them. I mean, I’m glad they’re not at the Boiling Rock, of course, but I have no idea where they are and it’s killing me inside.”

Zuko turned his body towards her, and placed his hand on hers. She looked up, her cheeks turning red as he gave her a soft look.

“Your parents are strong and capable, and I have no doubt they are still alive, pridefully fighting. When this is over, we’re going to free them, and you’ll reunite with them.”

He gently brushed his thumb over her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“They’ll want you to not worry about them. And I’m sure that wherever they’re right now, they’re so proud of you. You’re helping the avatar restore balance to the world, and you’re fighting against everything the other side of the war throws at you. They’re proud of you.”

He gently lifted her chin up, his golden eyes shining brightly as he stared at her as if she was the most beautiful person he ever laid eyes on.

“I am proud of you.”

She snapped out of it, watching him direct a fireball at Aang.

She frowned slightly, remembering the first time they met.

‘But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined’

It was during the time that Katara stole the water bending scroll from the pirates.

A week after Y/N left Omashu to help Aang and his friends, Zuko found them during the night while Y/N was watching Katara practice her water bending.

Since her earthbending skills weren’t that great back then, she didn’t really stood her ground against the pirates and Zuko with his guards, and ended up tied next to Katara.

“I’ll save you both from the pirates.” He tried to blackmails Katara to tell him the whereabouts of the avatar with her mother’s necklace.

“Go jump in the river.” Y/N spat at the prince.

He turned towards her, as if he noticed her for the first time.

“Well well, another peasant joined your little group.”

Y/N only rolled her eyes at him. “Strong words coming from a scarred banished prince with no honor, don’t you think?”

Need less to say, it didn’t went nicely from that moment on.

She worked hard with her earthbending from that day, swearing she’ll never be as useless as she was that night.

And every single time they met after that day, it was her that fought him. He always noticed that she was getting better each time they fought, and that’s when he truly paid attention to her.

She wasn’t much of a peasant after all.

‘And now he's dear, and so unsure

I wonder why I didn't see it there before’

But those days were in the past. He was a different man now. A strong, brave, kind man, who left his nation behind to join team avatar and fight against his father.

And she’d lie to say she didn’t have feelings for him.

He was handsome, inside and out.

Of course, he was still very insecure and had anger issues, but she knew he was working on that.

And she was proud of him.

She came out of her thoughts as she saw Zuko shot a huge fireball at Aang.

Poor Aang couldn’t firebend back in time, and used airbending instead.

The air blast was so strong, it sent Zuko flying two meters in the air before landing on the water.

He shot out of it after a few seconds, tangled in sea weed.

He yelled angrily as he tried to untangle himself, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Even in these situations he managed to be just as handsome.

‘She glanced this way, I thought I saw’

His eyes widened when he heard laughter, not knowing Y/N was watching them. He finally untangled himself and turned to face her, and the sight of her giggling in amusement made his heart skip a beat.

How could someone be so perfect? He found himself asking.

‘And when we touched, she didn't shudder at my paw’

Memories of the precious night appeared in his mind, remembering how they watched the stars together the entire night, and he told her about his childhood, his mother, and his scar.

How embarrassing it was for him to realize he was crying. He thought she’d be disgusted by this gesture, that she’ll think he was weak and pathetic, just like his father and his sister thought.

What he didn’t expect was for her to slowly embrace him in her arms, softly leaning his head on her shoulder.

He gasped as her hand softly caressed his cheek, slowly going up to touch his scar.

He pulled away in fear; why was he afraid? Was he afraid? What if she thought he was as hideous as a monster? She must have thought this way, it was completely normal.

He was weak, pathetic, and hideous.

And she knew it, and he knew it.

“I know what you think of me.” He tried to say coldly, but his voice came out in a tremble, as if he was facing his worst nightmare. “You think I am hideous. As good as a monster.”

Y/N gasped in shock as he spoke, and she immediately took his hands in hers and brought them to her lips. Zuko blushed at her gesture, and watched her in surprise.

“I think your scar proves that no matter what you went through, no matter what people threw at you, you came out stronger than you were before. I don’t think you’re a monster, Zuko. I think you’re brave and honorable, and I am so happy you joined our group. I am glad to be around you, because you inspire me so much.”

His eyes widened, his lips trembling.

“I- I inspire you?”

She chuckled softly at him, placing her hand on his right cheek again. “You’re the living proof that we can learn from our mistakes and become the best versions of ourselves. That we can all change for the greater good.”

She leaned in slowly, and her lips rested on his scar softly, making him feel something he never felt before.

“And I don’t think you’re hideous, Prince Zuko. I think you’re the handsomest boy I have ever laid eyes upon.”

Zuko shook his head as Aang asked him if he was alright.

Of course he was.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

Every since he joined team avatar, there’s hasn’t been a moment he didn’t think of her.

Whenever the group gathered around to eat, it wold physically hurt him if he didn’t sat directly next to her. It would pain him in various ways if she didn’t talk to him or acknowledge his presence.

But she always did. Sometimes he felt as if he was the only one she noticed at all.

‘No, it can't be, I'll just ignore’

He couldn’t let his feelings get to him. She couldn’t possibly like him, of course?

Why would she?

She was the most intelligent and beautiful girl he knew, and she always knew exactly what to say. She was mature and responsible and she wanted the best she could have in her future after the war would come to an end.

He was just a scared banished Prince, hated by his own family and nation. What could he possibly offer her that she’d want?

She could barely tolerate him, anyway.

His eyes widened as she slowly walked towards him as Aang decided to take a break, trying to look away from her hips as she swayed them gracefully on her way.

‘But then she's never looked at me that way before’

Her eyes met his, and a smile appeared on her face as he noticed her.

Several thoughts clouded his mind.

If she truly didn’t like him, why would she act this way around him?

“How was training, Prince Zuko?”

And she always called him by his title, as if it held any meaning at all. She probably did this to tease him, but he honestly thought that his title and his name never sounded as good as they did when it was her to say them.

“Wet.” He muttered, and blushed as she arched a brow in amusement at him. “I mean- seaweed.”

Seaweed? Seriously?

Could he act more like an idiot around her?

He almost sighed out in relief as she giggled softly at his words, and blushed as she took his hand in hers, brushing her thumb over his hand, making sparks lighten his body.

‘New, and a bit alarming

Who'd have ever thought that this could be?’

She blushed as well, but pushed her awkwardness away.

It’s now or never, she told herself.

“Listen, I spotted a nice dining place around the nearest town, ten minutes away from here. Would you like to go out with me there?”

He almost fainted right there and then.

“Are yo- you- a-asking me- you’re asking- you want to- are you-“

‘True, that he's no Prince Charming

But there's something in him that I simply didn't see’

She chuckled at his attempt to form a sentence. “Yes dummy, I’m asking you on a date. So? What’s your answer?”

He stood frozen to his place for a minute, and she shook him gently.

“Hello, Zuko there?”

He finally seem to step on earth, and his face formed a smile bigger than he ever did before.

“Yes! I mean...yeah, I’d love to.” He tried to play it cool, but ended up blushing and leaning in to her touch as she placed her hand on his cheek.

“Then let’s go, shall we?”

He kissed her hand, and took it in his.

“Yes, lets go.”

‘Well, who'd have thought? Well, bless my soul, Well, who'd have known?’

Unknown to them, Katara and Sokka were watching them leave, widening their eyes as they spotted them holding hands.

“I can’t believe it.” Katara gasped.

‘Well, who indeed? And who'd have guessed they'd come together on their own?’

Sokka grinned.

“I can’t believe it took them so long.”

“They are so perfect together.” Katara smiled.

‘It's so peculiar, wait and see, we'll wait and see a few days more’

There may be something there that wasn't there before’

“They truly are. They’re perfect for each other.” Sokka admitted.

“Who’s perfect for each other?” Aang asked as he stepped next to them.

His eyes widened and he let out a gasp as he saw Y/N and Zuko smiling at each other, walking hand in hand.

‘Here's a thought, perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before.’

Aang smiled brightly as his friend.

“Well, it’s about time!”

“What’s about time?” Toph asked as she stepped next to them as well, confused by Aang’s statement.

“What’s going on?”

Aang and Katara smiled at each other and walked away as Sokka turned to Toph.

He ruffled her hair and grinned.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

~~~

This is my first one shot on tumblr and I’m quite satisfied with how it ended up. If you have a one shot or short story request, you can leave it here or message me.

[darthlorddiamond]

In the Center of Everything

Request: Hello love! Can you write with something like rebel and force sensetive reader and Kylo kidnaps her but he doesn't want rebels to come so he takes her to Naboo instead? They spend time there and reader is nice person so they slowly start falling for each other? I was thinking like kinda fairytale setup like dresses he gives her, fancy meals etc. Picnic next to the waterfalls like Anakin and padme would be a nice bonus for @imaginesyes​

Words: 3,260

Reading Time: 14 min

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

Check my Masterlist for more.

In the Center of Everything

There's something sweet and almost kind

But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined

It has been some time since I have been, how to put it... In captivity on this planet? It all started a long time ago, for several years I had done everything possible to try to go unnoticed by the war that was happening everywhere, I knew perfectly well that something in me made me different from others, and for that reason, I decided to live with a low profile, I didn´t want to attract the attention of anyone, not the separatist groups, or those who called themselves rebels and much less the First Order, at the end of the day I was sure that if someone noticed that peculiarity that I had, they wouldn't hesitate to spread the word and eventually I would have someone behind me looking for me.

I realized that I was able to connect with the Force when I was a teenager and to be honest, at first, I was very scared, I didn't understand what was happening or how I could do what I was doing, but with the passage of the years, I accepted that that was my nature and I couldn't deny it, so I cultivated it as best I could.

When my parents passed away, I completely put aside the business and commercial life we ​​had and isolated myself, I built a small cabin from scratch in a quarry near our town and dedicated myself to planting what I could, slowly, I became a self-sufficient person. All this time I stayed out of the conflicts that were happening outside, never in my life did I think that I would end up in the center of everything.

One night, I still remember it perfectly, while I was meditating, I connected with a strange energy. At first, I was very scared, I couldn´t understand what was responding to me, so I immediately cut my meditation. It took a few weeks before I was encouraged to do it again.

The next time I connect with that energy, try to prolong it as long as I can. Little by little, night after night, I connected with that entity more often. I didn't know what it was, who it was, or where in the Galaxy it was, but I felt quite comfortable and intrigued to have made such a connection. I never suspected anything, I never thought that it could be something that would hurt me, I simply felt that it was someone like me out there and that, even with my self-exile in the middle, it made me feel accompanied... Until that night arrived.

It all started like a small whisper that intensified, “Where are you?”; A pair of eyes that pierced the gloom of the space that divided us. One question only. An answer from me that I would later regret "Cantonica".

And now he's dear and so unsure

I wonder why I didn't see it there before

A couple of days passed until the consequence of my actions resonated. It was a day like any other, I never thought that something out of my routine would happen. I woke up, had breakfast, and planned my day: check and maintain my herbs, fetch some water from a nearby well, take the opportunity to wash some clothes, and go quickly to town to find some supplies that I had scarce.

When I returned home, it was already beginning to get dark, the door was closed and everything in my home seemed to be in order until I entered the living room.

A shadowy black figure was sitting on my sofa, slightly lit by the fire in the fireplace, which he had surely lit while waiting for my return.

I was completely paralyzed in place, the basket in my hands fell to the ground and some of the apples that I had collected during the day rolled on the ground, reaching his feet.

The silence was sepulchral, I could see how his body curved towards the floor and slowly, one of his hands took one of the apples that was at his feet. Immediately afterward, his entire body rose from my sofa, he was a huge black mass, I couldn´t distinguish any feature in his figure, his shoulders were wide, his entire body was covered by a black cape that seemed to blend with the shadows of the stay and his face was covered by a mask.

My only reaction was to try to run away. In seconds one of his hands grabbed my arm and my back hit his chest, where he wrapped both arms around me and lifted me off the ground.

I screamed, kicked, tried my best to break his hold on my body. Little by little I ended up getting tired, my mind kept bringing a thousand scenarios: He will it kill me? What is he doing here, what does he want? Who is he? Why me? Just when I stopped fighting him, he released me, and my feet hit the ground again, I immediately turned to look at him.

"Don't you recognize me?" A distorted metallic voice came out of him, I shook my head slightly as I took a step back. My body was tired of trying to get rid of him, my legs were shaking, a cold chill ran down my spine and the room was slowly beginning to darken.

"It was you who brought me here..." He spoke again, at that moment I understood everything, that Beast was the source of the energy with which I had connected the previous nights, what had I done? At that moment, the panic completely seized me, with one last effort, I tried to run, but with a few steps he grabbed me again "No!" I yelled as loud as I could "What are you doing here?" I tried to separate my body from his with all my might "You know perfectly what I have come for" that metallic screech resounded in my ears with peculiar annoyance.

No, no, no. I didn´t want to, I couldn´t believe it, "Please..." the tears ran down my cheeks "Please... Leave me alone..." I sobbed uncontrollably, while my body collapsed on his, rendered by the struggle "Inside you, you know that I can't" his arms held me tighter "Please..." my cry was already a single whisper "Just sleep" he passed one of his hands in front of my face.

He lifted me in his arms, while my eyelids closed completely.

The firelight was completely extinguished.

The last I remember of that night is the sound of his footsteps, I never understood why it had happened.

And now he's dear and so unsure

I wonder why I didn't see it there before

When I woke up I was in a foreign place. It was a small cabin, quite minimalist in the middle of a forest, surrounded by absolutely nothing but trees, I could suspect that near where I was there was a body of water since I could hear it, a small waterfall perhaps, or a small lake.

I walked a little through that small place, I had everything I needed, clothes, food, products for my care. Even though the place was a bit cozy, I felt quite scared, I still didn´t understand what was happening, however, I found enough comfort in the fact that that black figure wasn´t with me.

I spent a few days in solitude, days that I took the opportunity to go into the surroundings of the cabin. I wanted to know if there was a nearby place where I could ask for help, but I didn't find anything.

One afternoon, returning home, I noticed that there was something strange, the door of the cabin was open, smoke was coming out of the chimney and a small light illuminated the main room, I understood that that black figure had returned and before entering I contemplated the possibility to flee, but where? Besides, if he had been able to trace me to Cantonica, he would be more than capable of finding me in this place, so, despite my desire to do so, I entered the cabin.

He was sitting again on a sofa in front of the fire, this time I could observe him better, he wasn´t wearing his helmet, so I could see his long, black and wavy hair "Where were you?" his voice sounded very deep, very different without that mask, I didn't know what to answer so I remained silent "I asked you a question!" he yelled and his voice echoed through all the walls "I went out to see the surroundings" I answered fearfully, with a blow he got up from his place and in a few steps he reached where I was, one of his hands held my chin and looked at me in the eyes "You will never leave this place if I don´t allow it!" at that moment panic took hold of me again, my legs were shaking and I closed my eyes and a few tears escaped. His hand left my face and I could feel him walking past me "I left food in the kitchen..." I could hear a small sigh from him "I also left you some clothes and supplies in your room" and without saying more he left the cabin slamming the door.

These types of encounters were repeated a few more times, every time he came to see me he left me supplies, dresses made with fabrics that I had never seen before, and some other gifts, such as necklaces, bracelets, and sweets. I didn't understand what was happening. Who was this man? Why had he brought me to this place? What did he want from me?

One of those many nights that he had come to see me I decided it was time to confront him, I appreciated the details he had with me, but I couldn't say that I was grateful, at the end of the day, this man had kidnapped me and I still didn't know why.

"Who you are?" I asked before he went out the door again "That doesn't matter" he answered without even turning to look at me, for a moment my blood boiled, I was tired of him appearing and disappearing without giving me explanations, without saying anything "Of course it matters!" I didn't notice the tone of my voice, and yet he kept walking without saying anything to me "Is this all a twisted little fantasy of yours?", he was about to reach the door when he turned his face suddenly, I could notice how his brow frowned "You´re exceeding a limit that you should not cross" he threatened me raising one of his hands and pointing one of his fingers at me, something in my stomach told me that I should stop with this confrontation, but I couldn't… "I need answers!" now it was me who was walking towards him with an outstretched hand and a finger pointing at him "I know you have brought me here because I manipulate the Force!" I yelled at him as my finger sank into his chest "But I don't know why I'm here or why you're doing this and..." his always stoic face, began to flood with a red color "I'm done! I will not continue with this! " Suddenly a roar was present and all the furniture in the house went flying "You will do what I tell you!" he yelled as he paced back and forth "I'm not your toy!" Even though my body was shaking with fear and helplessness, my anger was even greater, "You can't have me here" I threw it in his face once more "Of course I can and I will continue to do so" he turned his back on me once more and went out the door, I ran after him to reach him, but the darkness of the forest didn´t let me see him...

She glanced this way, I thought I saw

And when we touched she didn't shudder at my paw

Once again, I was alone in that place, without knowing what to do or why, full of anger, anger, and fear...

A few weeks went by without him showing up at the cabin, so I take advantage of all those days to tidy up the house, clean, and review some of the things that he had brought. The truth is that I refused to wear several of the clothes that he had given me, as well as the jewels, so I had simply put it away without paying any more attention, but now, with many time alone, I looked closely at it and I could notice each one of it were quite exquisite.

The days continued to pass without knowing anything about him, for some strange reason, I was beginning to miss his presence, I hadn´t noticed before, but the truth is that he was quite a handsome man, although, every time this idea crossed my mind I felt quite guilty and angry at me.

The weeks became months, I began to wonder if I would see him again or if I had to accept the idea that I was stranded in that place with no one else around me. I began to have small panic attacks due to my loneliness and some nights I implored to see him again.

One morning I went for a walk to the nearby stream, indeed, it had a small waterfall, it was a comfortable place that filled me with tranquility, when I returned to the cabin, I noticed that the door was open and my heart jumped, I didn't know if it jolts with joy or scared, but I ran inside right away.

There were a few pieces of furniture lying around, I started to feel scared. I kept going until I reached the bathroom, where I found him lying on the floor, he was injured. I immediately rushed to the ground and tried to hold him "Don't touch me!" he growled as his hands tried to remove mine from his body "You're bleeding!" I insisted holding his hands with mine "I don't need your pity..." he growled again, I turned to see him, our eyes were fixed for a few seconds, I could see that he felt pain and I weighed all that we had previously experienced and I felt the need to attend to him "Let me help you…” I spoke softly “Please…” he nodded slightly and I took it for a yes, despite his pride wasn´t allowing him to say it, he wanted my help.

No it can't be, I'll just ignore

But then she's never looked at me that way before

That night he slept in my bed. When I woke up the next morning, I assumed that it was likely that he was no longer in the cabin. I was so surprised to see him still asleep that a small smile spread across my face. He was a completely different person, calm. The little light that filtered in through the window finely illuminated the features of his face and my heart jumped slightly with a strangely warm, not out of fear or insecurity, so I left that room a bit confused by what I just felt.

The days went by, and he… He stayed with me in the cabin. Little by little, we began to exchange more words, although not many, he was a man who spoke little. He began to help me with the little chores of the house, although he was quite clumsy at first, he improved as the days went by. He even offered to help me with the little herb garden that I had started to build in the garden.

Slowly his laughter began to flood our meals, and his stories about his travels across the Galaxy catch me at night. I learned about things that I didn´t know existed thanks to him and my heart kept jumping every hour that I enjoyed his company.

On one occasion I asked him if he wouldn´t go away again, the only thing he answered was that there was no place out there where he belonged. At that moment I understood that the Beast that had appeared a year ago in the room of my old home no longer existed and it was in that moment that I decided that that place where we were, in the middle of nowhere and far from everything, was now the home of both, however, I still felt my doubts, what if the bond that we were beginning to have was just a product of my imagination.

New and a bit alarming

Who'd have ever thought that this could be?

One morning, after waking up next to him, I wanted to put a plan to the test: the night before I had prepared a basket with some food, my idea was to ask him to accompany me to the forest to find some berries to plant in the garden. That morning I fixed myself with one of the dresses that he had brought me during one of his first visits and that I had never worn. When he got up, I had everything ready.

"I'm going to need your help today...", he just looked at me a little confused "Please get ready before we get late". A few minutes later he left the room towards the kitchen where I was "Hold this" I gave him the basket, his face was full of confusion, he couldn´t understand what was happening, I walked to the door and turned to see him "What are you waiting? Let's go!" and I smiled at him as I walked out the door.

We walked for a few minutes in the forest without saying anything until we reached the stream. Once on the shore, I spread the blanket, I approached him, took the basket, and sat on the ground, he just imitated my steps. I took out some of the bites that were in the basket and we began to eat, we never speak. When we finished, I looked back at him.

"I don't know much about you...", he just fixed his eyes on mine "And you don't know much about me..." I started to take off my shoes "But we´re both... Living in this place..." the sound of the waterfall was like little sinfonie behind us "I didn't get here of my own free will and I still don't understand why..." I plunged my feet into the water "But I've grown to love this place..." I turned to look at him and a huge smile was painted on my lips "And I've started to take a strange affection for you, although I don't know if I should..." and suddenly, everything changed.

The birds sang around us, the sound of the waterfall became louder, and his lips... His lips were on mine with an intensity that I had never felt. One of his hands was holding my neck, while the other was holding one of mine firmly. His caress was soft, however, somewhat desperate, but full of passion "Ben..." he whispered as a smile touched his lips and his hand caressed my cheek "My name is Ben". At no time did his eyes leave mine and my heart burned completely "Well, Hello Ben" I went over to kiss him again "Welcome home".

True that he's not Prince Charming

But there's something in him that I simply didn't see

[vulpiximisa]

a bedehop thingy for white day. its unrefined and straight up copy/pasted from my docs but enjoy? (theres a few references to my HCs like this one)

It’s Valentines Day and Bede gets a lot of chocolate and even a huge ass cake and he doesn’t know what to do with it all. He wants to share it with Opal and the gym trainers but they’re all aunties and grannies that they can’t have a lot of sweets and they did give him some of it so he can’t exactly give it back. 

The gym trainers aunties tell him to share with his friends. Bede says he doesn’t have friends but they mention Hop, who had been seen coming to visit him often and they seem to get along very well, if the earrings that Bede always wears isn’t enough evidence. 

Bede is standing on route 1 with a box of cake and a couple of paper bags filled with cookies and chocolate. He should have contacted Hop in advance. What if he wasn’t home, or was at work with Magnolia’ granddaughter? Worst case would be if he was with company and then he’d have to embarrass himself in front of Hop AND his company. 

He takes his chances and walks towards Postwick. It’s so rural, with the Wooloo rolling about and Buttefree and Rookidee flocking. There’s two houses and he isn’t sure which one it is but he sees two familiar figures chatting in front of the gate of one of them. He flinches when they spot him.

He greets them courteously. The ex champion and Hop’s brother returns the greeting with a curious look. The other, the current champion’s brother and Hop’s friend, is looking at him suspiciously. He sucks up some courage and asks if Hop is available. They give each other a look before answering him. 

Hop’s friend, Victor, asks why he was here and what he needed from Hop. Bede shuffles with the bags around his arms, the cake was getting kind of heavy. He gestures to all the sweets and tells them his intentions. Of course adding on that they are also free to indulge as well. 

They give each other a look again and Bede wonders if they are somehow communicating telepathically. Leon scratches the back of his head, confessing he had even forgotten that today was a special day. (Victor points out that Leon would normally also get a ton of gifts today but Leon said he hadn’t checked his PO box yet.) He invites Bede into his family’s house, Victor following in after him. 

Bede settles the sweets onto the coffee table in the living room that he is led to. Apparently the other adults of the house had gone on a vacation for the week, so it’s just them. Victor makes himself comfortable on the couch, Bede takes a seat on the one opposite him. He could hear Leon calling Hop down and the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs. 

Hop’s voice carries from the foyer asking what his brother needed him for. (“I thought you and Vic were heading out?”) Leon from the kitchen tells him to go to the living room. 

Bede self consciously fixes his appearance as Hop turns the corner into the room. He could hear Victor let out a snort. He sits up straighter when their eyes meet and Hop exclaims his name in surprise. Bede gets a small satisfaction when he sees that Hop also tries to fix himself to look presentable. 

Hop asks what he’s doing here and Bede gestures to the box and bags sitting in front of him. (“Don’t get the wrong idea. I got these all from my fans and I definitely can not finish these all by myself.”) Hop scratches his head and mentions that he had forgotten today’s date as well. Victor rolls his eyes but with a smile. Bede also snorted softly (but fondly). Hop asks why they reacted like that but Leon asks him to move so he could put the tea down. 

Bede helps make room on the table for the tea. Victor sets the cups and plates. The two brothers take a seat and Bede sweats when he’s staring at the other three from the other couch. (There was plenty of room next to him?)

Hop is beaming but Victor on his right is glaring at Bede with crossed arms and Leon (at Hop’s left) is also staring at him expectantly. Bede somehow feels like meeting Hop’s parents would be a lot less nerve wracking than this. 

Bede coughs to break the silence and starts the conversation. He thanks Hop for all the snacks he brought from Kalos so hopefully these make up for it. He hadn’t gone through them yet but they’re free to help themselves. Hop vigorously empties one of the bags onto the table and starts shuffling through them for any interesting ones. 

Victor helps himself to some of the fancier packaged ones. Leon is sipping his tea, only picking from the ones that Hop had already opened or dug into. Bede wonders if they actually really wanted to eat chocolate or if they stayed for other reasons.

Hop notes that there’s letters attached to some of them and opens one with sparkling stationery. Victor reprimands him for looking at a letter that isn’t addressed to him but Hop waves it off. Bede had enough fan mail and letters that he disregards most of them. It might have been mean but most of them are the regular “please be my girlfriend!” that he just has no interest in. Hop reads the letter out loud, just a general confession, signed with love from a girl from Hammerlocke. Victor sighs and tells him that it’s really rude and Bede should have taken them to heart since the writer had taken the time to write to him. Bede shrugs, saying he has no interest in the girls that try to court him through these kinds of means. (“If they were serious, they would tell me to my face.”) 

Hop is munching away on some cookies when he finally notices the box. He asks to take a look and pulls it towards him before Bede even gives him permission. (Well, he had said everything was open territory.) Hop opens the box and the two at his side lean over this shoulder to get a look at the cake. Hop lets out a snort. It’s a chocolate cake in the shape of a heart with “I LOVE YOU!” on it written in frosting. Victor looks impressed, saying it looks homemade. Leon comments that it’s very thoughtful.   

Hop pulls the cake out but realizes there’s no knife, so he puts it down and heads to the kitchen. Bede was in the middle of a sip when Victor speaks up. 

“From your fans huh?”

“Pardon?”

Victor leans over on his knee trying to look intimidating. Victor insinuates that Bede had planted a few items in there intentionally meant for Hop but hiding it as a subtle confession because he’s too scared to confront him directly. Bede is about to argue at the ridiculous notion but Hop walks back in with the knife. He doesn’t notice the tension in the room and goes right ahead cutting the cake up. 

“You’d really think I would do that?” Bede starts up. 

Hop looks rightfully confused. Victor takes a bite out of the cake that Hop had handed to him before looking right at Bede.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“So you’re saying I’m a coward.” Bede slants his eyes

“Perhaps.” Victor glares back.

“So you do want me to say it? And all this time I thought you wanted me to stay far away.”

“Uhhh guys?? What are we talking about?” Hop is looking back and forth between the two.

“This cake is good.” Leon chimes in.

Bede’s smile looks cat-like as he takes a glance at Hop. Victor glares at him in warning.

“Hop, I actually have something to say to you.”

Hop sits up straight at Bede addressing him. Victor is wide eyed. 

Bede opens his mouth again but realizes what exactly he is about to say and freezes. Victor takes the opportunity to chime in that they’re out of tea and asks Hop to make more water. Hop glances at Bede, hoping to get him to finish but Victor pushes him out the room with the kettle.

Bede felt a sweat trickle the back of his neck. He really was almost goaded into confessing to Hop. Out loud. He had just very recently processed the emotion to himself in the confines of his own thoughts, he wasn't ready to bring the thought to life yet. Well, it would be one thing to ask Hop out on a date, he could have said so without meaning it, just to put on airs in front of Victor to show him up. But that didn’t feel right to him, especially not how Hop had looked at him so eagerly. 

He did like Hop. How and why was a mystery even to himself. Lies. He liked when Hop smiled or got angry and shouted. He liked seeing him fired up and he could be annoying and all up in his space and wouldn’t leave him alone, but he liked that someone wanted to be with him. But he wasn’t ready to tell him that yet. 

“That was close.”

Bede jumped. Victor had gone to the kitchen with Hop but Leon was still sitting on the other side of the couch. 

“Well, for both of you, I guess. That was a dangerous game.” 

Luckily Leon didn’t look angry, but Bede couldn’t get a read on him. He had no idea what the older brother was thinking, but Bede assumed he was on Victor’s side. 

“Please don’t let that happen again. I don’t want you two to hurt Hop over a silly rivalry that he’s unaware of.”

Bede realizes he was wrong in his assumption of Leon’s stance. Leon was on Hop’s side first and foremost. And he was right, if Bede had confessed prematurely, it would have ended up hurting Hop and himself.

“I’ll have to talk to Victor later too. But for now, let’s not bring that topic up. I know it’s Valentines day and you came all this way to share us your haul, but I’d rather not have you guys regret the things you say when you don’t truly mean it.”

Bede nods and agrees. He finally picks up the piece that Hop had sliced for him and took a bite. It was good, not the best he’s had but it was homemade. He looks at the letters that had been put to the side. Perhaps he should actually take a look at them. He wasn’t going to reply to each and every one of them, but at least look through them, if the writers had some guts to say something, that took at least a little bit of courage. Bede wasn’t a coward, he would tell Hop to his face when he was ready, none of this letters and chocolate nonsense. 

Victor and Hop come back with a new pot. Bede wonders what they had talked about in the kitchen because Hop kept taking glances at him. Hop takes his seat back on the couch when Leon rises and announces he’s heading out and thanks Bede for the sweets. Hop asks where he’s going since he just boiled a new pot. Leon pulls Victor away with an arm around his shoulder and tells Hop that they were sticking with their original plans. Victor tries to protest but Leon’s hold is firm and he is dragged out of the room.

It’s quiet for a good two seconds when they realize they are alone. Hop uncharacteristically stutters and offers Bede more tea. Bede accepts with trembling hands.

Hop brings back up that Bede had wanted to tell him something before Victor had interrupted. Bede doesn’t know how to change the topic but he knows he can’t say what it is he thought about saying before yet. 

Instead he asks Hop if he’s ever had homemade chocolates gifted to him before. Hop looked disappointed when he heard the question. Bede wonders what he was expecting. Hop answers that he gets chocolate from Gloria whenever she gets the chance to make them. They’re usually friend chocolates though so they don’t really count? They count as much as getting them from his mom and Gloria’s mom? Also a few years of friend chocolates from when he was still working with Sonia.

Bede exhales from his nose, which Hop took as a taunt. “Well, sorry I’m not a super pretty boy that gets so much chocolate that he has to find people to share it with.”

In reality, it was a sigh of relief, knowing that Bede doesn’t have much competition. Well, perhaps quality over quantity, Champion Gloria and Hop are known for their deep bond. 

“So you’ve never been confessed to?” 

“No…” A pause. “Not yet at least…”

Uh oh, this was dangerous. He didn’t promise Leon anything but he knew he shouldn't be heading in this direction. 

“Mah, good luck then.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Like, who says good luck to getting confessed to? That’s not in his control? 

“Though I would feel sorry for any girl who would confess to you. Clearly they need a change in taste.”

“Rude!”

They banter about other things but they know it’s all harmless and it’s easier for them this way. They nibble on a few more sweets before it’s too much. Hop claims the ones he likes best and cuts the cake into saveable portions to pack up. As they’re cleaning up, Hop asks what he’s going to do with the letters. Bede usually throws them away but he’d at least want to read through them first.

“What? Change of heart?”

“Well, Victor is right, they did take the time to write to me, I could at least skim through it before I trash them.”

Hop sidles next to him, a little too close, wanting to read with him. Bede scoffs at him being nosy but they go through the letters. As they thought, most of them were the same. One signed with a male name stuck out but that was it.   

Hop asks if Bede would ever respond to an admirer and Bede just says none of them had a chance. They all lost the moment they thought slipping a piece of paper and some cookies would woo him. They were all fans though, they didn’t really know him and probably only liked the idea of him, or their own version they have of him in their minds. Hop hums in thought and asks what someone would have to do to impress him.

“Why? Interested?” He jokes but his heart races.

Hop splutters, trying to save himself by saying that jerks aren’t very attractive. 

“Guess this jerk can take all these goods back then.”

Hop hugs the haul he picked out possessively. 

Bede ponders over Hop’s question. He couldn’t imagine being wooed, and yet, this fool sitting next to him had managed to do so somehow. It’s not like Hop did anything special, if anything his first judgement of him was far from impressive. But they learned that they weren’t too different from one another, and maybe that was enough for him to open up to someone who was the total opposite of him in personality. 

He didn’t realize he had been in his own thoughts that Hop was waving a hand over his face. He asked what Bede was lost on but Bede just brushed it off. Hop didn’t look convinced and asked if it was about what he was going to say about earlier. 

Bede said he had already asked his question but Hop is still staring him down. He decides it time to leave, lest he actually spill his guts. He excuses himself and Hop sees him at the door. Hop scratches his head and asks if he would mind if he gave him something in return for White Day. Bede whips around at the implication but glares, trying to look offended. He reminds Hop that these were from the fans and not from him personally so there isn’t really a reason for Hop to have to pay him back. (He also adds that he’s only sharing with him because Hop had given him all the Kalos snacks.) Hop lets him go and tells him he won’t give him anything for White Day then, geez. Bede huffs. (“Good”)

Hop does show up at Ballonlea gym on White Day with chocolate and flowers (a single rose). Bede is gauging Hops mood, what were his intentions? Hop gives him a cheeky grin, says he’s here because Bede told him specifically not to get him anything and Bede just sighs. 

Hop asks if he’s free though and maybe they could go out later. Bede narrows his eyes and asks why. Hop is swaying around and says it’s cuz he wants to take him out, to get dinner. Bede stares. Hop gets increasingly nervous and asks Bede again if he’ll go? Bede pulls back and asks that he not joke with him but Hop jumps up and says he’s serious. 

Bede asks if he knows what he’s saying. Hop nods and says that he wants to go on a date with Bede. Bede is super flushed but super pleased and just tells him to wait a moment cuz he’s not done for the day. Hop nods and asks when he should come back. They agree on a time and Bede doesn’t think it’s really happening because that’s not how he planned it. 

When they meet up again, Hop is not dressed up any more than usual, which Bede points out. (Bede dressed a little nicer but he usually does.) Hop scratches his head and says he didn’t actually expect Bede to accept. 

They go to dinner, it’s not awkward because they interact as they always do, though they both have in the backs of their minds that this isn’t just a regular hangout. Bede finally asks why he came today, was it just to mess with him? Hop said initially, yes it was to piss him off (with the chocolates) but he asked him out with a purpose. 

Hop confesses that he likes Bede and that he’d hope Bede would be his boyfriend. Bede is silent and Hop takes it as Bede not believing him and he’s trying to convince him that he really does like him and he starts rambling about all the things he likes about him (he’s a good trainer, he’s cool with his fans even if he’s a jerk sometimes, he’s smart and okay yeah he’s very pretty and he aggravated him but he can’t stop thinking about him and) Hop realizes he’s rambling and Bede is looking at him with a cat smile. 

Hop thinks Bede is playing with him and tells him he could be a little nicer and just reject him already instead of letting Hop inflate his ego. Bede instead calls for something. The waiter comes back with a bunch of roses and hands then to Hop. Hop is confused but Bede finally answers. 

He was going to confess today. Well, he had made plans to but Hop ruined it by coming here first. Hop is wide eyed behind the roses. Bede doesn’t say “I like you” but just “the feelings are mutual” and leaves it at that. 

When they leave the restaurant (Hop demanded he pay), Hop is trying to get Bede to tell him more but Bede just tells him that’s all he needs to know. Hop looks disappointed but offers to walk him back to his home with Opal. They do and Bede allows them to talk about other stuff and it’s almost like before they had confessed. When they’re at the door, Hop looks on expectantly. Bede asks him what he wants and Hop shuffles with the roses in his hand. Hop bails though and just tells him he enjoyed the night and he’ll text him later. He’s about to leave when Bede pulls him over and kisses him near his mouth. 

Bede quickly bids him goodnight and flees into the house. Hop is flushed, staring at the door that Bede had fled behind. He grins brightly and does a fist pump. Bede is leaning behind the door, trying to calm his racing heart. It almost feels juvenile, all this non sense. But he remembers Hops smile and it makes him think it’s not so bad. 

-----------------

i havent been able to draw because im still recovering from whatever the fuck my wrist is doing but i still want to see content for this ship so im doing whatever i can to see them flourish ;w; 

[fanyiyimdzs]

Mo Dao Zu Shi: Chapter 5

Masterpost

Previous chapter

Only a few days passed before Wei Wuxian realized that he may have made a mistake.

The donkey he had stolen was way too hard to please.

It was only a donkey, but it refused to eat anything other than fresh, tender grass with dewdrops hanging from the leaves, and shunned any blades which showed the slightest hint of yellow. When they passed by a farmhouse, Wei Wuxian stole a few stalks of wheat to feed it, but it only chewed a couple of times before—“pfeih!”—it launched them back out, its spit louder and more resonant than any human’s. Not only would it barely eat, it also refused to move, and if Wei Wuxian tried to make it, it would throw a fit, jumping and kicking at him with its hind legs. His life suffered several close calls. What’s more, its braying was agony to the ear.

It had no redeeming qualities as either a mount or a pet!

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but think fondly of his sword. It was most likely hanging on the wall of some grand clan now, exhibited by the chief as a trophy of war. 

Dragging the donkey with him come life or death, he ran a few lengths of road toward a large field belonging to some nearby village. The glaring sun beat down from above, and he sought shelter under a big scholar tree on the embankment between the rice paddies. The thick shade beneath the verdant leaves was dark and cool, and there was an old well where the villagers had placed a bucket and a ladle so that passers-by could quench their thirst. Once the donkey had run here, it absolutely refused to budge. Thus, Wei Wuxian  jumped off, slapped its venerable hindquarters and said, “You sure must be a magnificent, prosperous being. You’re even fussier than me.”

The donkey sneezed at him.

While Wei Wuxian passed the time a hundred different ways, a group of people trekked in his direction along the crisscrossing paths in the distance.

They wore bamboo baskets on their backs, linen shirts, and straw shoes; they had the rustic, earthy appearance of rural villagers from head to toe . Among them was an almost delicate and pretty young woman with a round face, who had perhaps walked under the harsh sun for too long and wanted to sit in the shade and drink some water. But when she saw the donkey tied to the tree, braying and stomping discontently, and the wild-haired lunatic with red and white pigment smeared all over his face sitting next to it, she became frightened and wouldn’t approach.

Wei Wuxian had always considered himself protective and caring of women, so seeing her state, he moved to create space for her and went to bother the donkey. Only once the travellers saw he was harmless did they relax and come near. Each and every one of their faces were bright red and drenched in sweat, some fanning themselves and some fetching themselves water. The young woman sat by the well, and, seemingly knowing Wei Wuxian had intentionally made room for her, gave him a tiny smile.

Among the group was a man holding a compass, who gazed out into the distance. He then looked back down, bewildered. “We’re almost at the foot of Dafan Mountain. Why isn’t the needle moving?”

The compass he was using was no ordinary compass; its markings were different, and its needle didn’t point north. It wasn’t a compass of the cardinal directions, but an “evil wind compass”, used to locate fierce, malignant spirits. Wei Wuxian knew then the people he had met were a family of poor, unaffiliated cultivators. Outside of the illustrious, moneyed houses of cultivation, who spent their spare time contemplating the poetry of white snows and sunny spring days, there were also quite a few of these kinds of small, unrefined, closed-off, and self-taught families. Perhaps they had rushed from the village to beg for shelter from a big house that they had some relation to.  Or perhaps they were out on a night-hunt.

The middle aged leader waved everyone toward the well for water and simultaneously said, “Your compass is probably broken, once we get back I’ll get you a new one. We’re less than five kilometers from Dafan Mountain, so we can’t rest for long. We’ve suffered the winds and the dust the whole journey—if we relax here, the people behind will pass us, and all our effort’ll be wasted.”

Indeed, they had come to night-hunt. Many cultivators, fond of literary pursuits, called roaming the four corners of the land, exorcising evil spirits “roving hunts,” and since their prey typically came out at night, the hunts also became known as “night-hunts.” Though there were many houses of cultivation, only a few became truly famous. If their ancestors had not accumulated prestige and prosperity, ordinary houses could only earn respect and reputation through their own achievements, and climb the hierarchy of the cultivation world by their own sweat. Only by seizing a brutal monster or calamity-bringing spirit would their names start to have weight.

Seizing evil things was what Wei Wuxian was best at, but the few days he’d been running around on the road breaking into graves, he had found only minor ghosts. He still lacked a ghost that could help him trample his opponents, so he decided he would also go to Dafan Mountain1 and try his luck. If he found a useful one, he would catch and deploy it.

The cultivators had now rested enough and were preparing to take off. Before they left, the round-faced young woman took a half-green, half-red apple from the basket on her back and passed it to Wei Wuxian. “This is for you.”

Wei Wuxian reached out to receive it with a big smile on his face, but the donkey raised its head, bared its teeth, and bit at the pro-offered fruit. He hastily grabbed hold of it. But when good fortune came, so did clever ideas; seeing the donkey endlessly salivating over the little apple, Wei Wuxian picked up a tree branch and a fishing line, tied the apple to the branch, and hung the apple in front of the donkey’s head. The donkey smelled the fragrant scent of the apple, and lusting after its sweet flesh, chased the fruit that was always just a little out of reach. Head raised and charging ahead, the animal ran faster than any colt Wei Wuxian had ever seen, leaving clouds of dust trailing behind it.

The donkey didn’t stop running, and thus they made it to Dafan Mountain before nightfall. Wei Wuxian only figured out how to write the mountain’s name when he reached its base. From far away, it looked exactly like a venerable, open-hearted, squat Buddha—thus it was Dafan Mountain, and the small village at the foot of the mountain was therefore called Fojiao Village.2

The number of cultivators who had gathered far exceeded Wei Wuxian’s expectations. It was a mixed crowd, like a lake where both dragons and schools of tiny fish swam. The cultivators wore a dizzying, blinding array of colours and resembled a parade of restless flowers as they walked up and down the street. But for some unknown reason, everyone had a nervous expression on their face. They couldn’t even spare the attention to laugh at Wei Wuxian’s ridiculous face.

In the center of the main road, a crowd of cultivators gathered, speaking solemnly. They seemed to be arguing and spoke loudly enough for Wei Wuxian to hear them from a distance. At first the discussion was calm, but it grew more and more agitated as it progressed:

“I don’t think this place ever had any soul-eating beasts or ghasts in the first place. That’s obviously why no one’s compass needle has moved.”

“But if there really is nothing, how could seven of those villagers have lost their souls? They couldn’t have all come down with the same bizarre disease, could they? I’ve never heard of such a disease!”

“Just because the compasses aren’t pointing to anything, does that necessarily mean nothing’s here? They can only point in a general direction. They’re not that accurate, so they can’t be completely trusted. It’s possible there’s something around here that can interfere with the needle.”

“Don’t you remember who invented these compasses? I’ve never heard of anything disturbing the direction the needle points.”

“What exactly do you mean by that? Why are you asking such weird questions? Of course I remember evil wind compasses were invented by Wei Ying, but just because he invented something, doesn’t mean it’s gorgeous and perfect. Aren’t people allowed to question him?”

“I didn’t say you weren’t allowed to question him, or that his things were gorgeous and perfect. There’s no need to spew mud everywhere, your highness!”

They began to argue in a different direction, and Wei Wuxian rode his donkey past them, laughing merrily. Even though so many years had passed, his ability to whip cultivators into verbal duels and tongue clashes had not diminished. “Once you hear the name ‘Wei,’ you’re forced to fight”—so the saying went. If there was a vote on who possessed the most extensive and long-lived fame among all cultivators, who could win against him?

In all fairness, the cultivator who had questioned him wasn’t wrong. The evil wind compasses in use were only the first edition, and indeed left something to be desired when it came to accuracy. Originally, Wei Wuxian had worked to improve them, but who told people to destroy his home before he was done? So he had no option but to inconvenience everyone and continue to force the inaccurate, first edition compass on them.

In any case, most things that eat flesh and chew bone were low level, such as walking corpses. Only refined, elegant, high level beasts and vicious ghosts could eat and digest souls. To consume seven in one go—no wonder there were so many houses gathered here. This prey was no small matter—it was only natural that the compasses made a few errors.

Holding the reins tightly, Wei Wuxian leapt from the donkey’s back, grabbed the apple, and held it in front of the donkey. “One bite, just one bite. Hey! You almost bit off my hand.”

He took two bites of the other side of the apple and shoved it back into the donkey’s mouth. While he reflected on how he had been reduced to sharing an apple with a donkey, someone collided with him from behind. He turned and saw a young woman who, even though she had walked straight into him, seemed to find him beneath her notice. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, her lips were molded into a slight smile, and she refused to tear her gaze away from a certain direction.

Wei Wuxian followed her line of sight into the distance, where a solemn black mountain top lay—Dafan Mountain.

Suddenly without warning, the young woman began dancing.

The dance was wild and violent, as though channeling a beast baring its fangs and brandishing its claws. Wei Wuxian watched the young woman with bright interest, but another woman lifted her skirt and ran towards them, threw her arms around the dancing girl and cried, “Ah-yan, let’s go home! Let’s go home!”

With all her strength, Ah-yen threw the woman off and continued, smile still plastered on her face, as though animated by some kind of hair-raising obsession. The older woman had no option but to chase the girl all over the street, wailing, tears dripping down her face. To the side, a street peddler said, “Hell’s bells, Blacksmith Zheng’s Ah-yan’s run out again.”

“I feel sorry for her mother. Ah-yan, Ah-yan’s husband, and her own husband, not a single one’s in good shape...”

Wei Wuxian strolled around the village, eavesdropping, collecting bits and pieces of idle chatter from the people he walked by, and pieced together the strange sequence of events that had unfolded.

On Dafan Mountain, there was an old graveyard housing the people of Fojiao Village’s ancestral graves, where the villagers would also bury and raise grave markers for unnamed corpses on occasion. One evening several months ago, when thunder rolled and the sky flashed with lightning, the wind and the rain pounded down upon the area, scouring the mountain the entire night. A patch of earth atop Dafan Mountain collapsed, triggering a landslide—this patch of earth happened to be the exact patch on which the graveyard was located. Thus many old graves were destroyed and others were exposed to the elements. Lightning struck, blasting and blackening both the coffins and the bodies inside.

After this episode, the people of Fojiao Village became extremely uneasy, prayed for blessings, and then rebuilt the old burial mound, believing that this would settle the matter. But who knew from that point onwards, Fojiao Village would suffer so many cases of lost souls?

The first victim was a lazy bum who was poor as a rat and spent most of his days loafing about. Because he enjoyed going up the mountain and catching birds to pass time, he just so happened to be stuck on Dafan Mountain the night of the landslide. Though scared half to death, he was blessed with good fortune—nothing happened to him, at least on that night. But strange things began to occur only a few days after he returned. He suddenly found a wife and was married with much fanfare, sparing no waving banners or beating drums, claiming he would live a life of merit and virtue and pass his days with this promise in mind.

The night of the wedding, he drank himself blind, fell into bed, and didn’t get up. When his new wife called his name, he didn’t react, and only when she pushed him over did she discover that her groom’s eyes were blank and lifeless and his body was as cold as ice. Aside from the fact that he was still breathing, there was little that distinguished him from a corpse. He ate nothing, drank nothing, and continued on in this state for many days before finally being peacefully buried. The poor bride became a widow despite barely having been married.

The second was Ah-yan from the family of Blacksmith Zheng. The young woman had just been betrothed, but only a day after, her fiancé was bitten to death by wolves while hunting on the mountain. After she found out, the same fate befell her as befell the lazy bum. Happily, however, her disease somehow cured itself after a period of time. Yet from that point onward, she began to suffer from lunacy. She went outside every day to dance for people, smiling the entire time. 

The third was Ah-yan’s father, Blacksmith Zheng. To date, there had been seven victims in total. 

Wei Wuxian mulled over the matter and determined it was most likely the work of a soul eating ghast, rather than a soul eating beast.

Though the difference between their names was only one word, they were entirely disparate beings. Ghasts were a type of ghost, but soul eating beasts were a type of fae. According to Wei Wuxian, the sequence of events was most likely this: the landslide demolished old graves and lightning split open coffins, releasing a long dormant ghast from among the bodies. If this was the case, the state of the coffins and presence of any seal traces upon them should suffice for confirmation. But the Fojiao Villagers must have already long re-buried the burnt coffins elsewhere, and reinterred the bodies—there would be very few vestiges of the ghast's resting place.

In order to climb the mountain, Wei Wuxian took the sloping road from the village. He hopped on his donkey and slowly ascended. After traveling a while, he encountered some people wearing dark expressions climbing down.

These people had cuts and scrapes on their faces, and seemed to be talking to each other all at once. The sky was dusky, and they all jumped in fright as they ran face-to-face into someone made-up like a hanged ghost riding atop a donkey. They shouted angry words at him, circled around, and continued down the slope at rapid clip. Looking back on them, Wei Wuxian wondered whether they had been defeated by their intended prey and were now returning from their night-hunt empty-handed. He pondered a little more, slapped his donkey’s hindquarters, and the two clambered up briskly.

He had left at the perfectly wrong time and missed the group’s grumbling. 

“I’ve never met anyone so unreasonable!”

“He’s the head of such a big house, why does he have to come here and compete with us for a single soul eating ghast? He must have killed plenty when he was young!”

“But what can we do? We can hardly do anything about him being a Clan Chief. Whichever house you offend, you must not offend House Jiang. Whoever you offend, you must not offend Jiang Cheng. There’s nothing to do except pack our bags, accept our fate, and go!”

________________

Translation notes:

1 Wei Wuxian, having only heard the name of the mountain, mistakes 大梵山 (lit. “Big Buddha Mountain”) for the homophonous 大饭山 (lit. “Big Meal Mountain” or “Big Rice Mountain”).

2 Fojiao means “Buddha foot.”

Next chapter

Masterpost

[ephemeral-afterlight]

Day 26: Abandoned

(Form an alliance with the masses.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 26: Abandoned

Word Count: 2835

Relationships: Prinxiety (implied pre-relationship/pining Virgil)

Warnings: Crying/Emotional breakdown, mild self-harm (unintentional), mild blood, mentions of panic attacks, mention of rituals/sacrifices in a joking/satirical manner

A/N: i don't really have much of an explanation as to how this ties in with the prompt. you could view it as roman abandoning his pride to accept comfort, or virgil abandoning his anxiety to help someone he cares about, or even just something as simple as that abandoned mug of hot chocolate. up to you, do with this what you will. anyway, i intended this to be way angstier, but then it somehow got to almost 3k word of prinxiety fluff? so. yeah idek either. by the way, the song in the fic is called "Ribbons".

“And you fell in ribbons around me.”

It’s nighttime when he hears it. The melody of a song too obscure to pinpoint, beauty in each wistful note. The words are laced with thoughtfulness, speared by longing, and it’s unlike anything Virgil’s ever heard before. It’s almost as if the lyrics themselves dance down the hallway, twirls and pirouettes and every kind of graceful move imaginable to the ballad from which they were born. Virgil doesn’t know the song, hasn’t heard it sung or played in the mindscape before, which is odd considering how it feels like there’s always new music waiting to be discovered here.

“Shredded by the ones you used to seek.”

Virgil hopes he’s not intruding on anything important when he rounds the corner, and he’s met with a massive room he didn’t even know existed. It spans multiple stories, bookshelves filled with all different sorts of novels towering so far into the sky that he can’t see to the top. The room itself is oval-shaped, which is odd enough, but considering this is in Thomas’ mind, anything is possible. Smaller, more normal-sized bookcases lie in rows on either side of the room, creating long passageways that seem to twist and turn like a labyrinth fueled by pure knowledge. In the very center lies a few couches and beanbags chairs all situated in a circle, bordering a large table in the middle that holds magazines, stray bookmarks, pens, and a single mug of what looks to be steaming hot coffee beside an opened book.

The room is impressive, and almost intimidating with it’s accented swirling designs in the mahogany wood that makes up most of the walls, but the fireplace directly in front of him on the other side of the library emits a glow that keeps it cozy despite its enormity. It’s warmer in here than it is in the main part of the mindscape, though cool enough so as not to be uncomfortable, almost at the perfect temperature to lull one to sleep whilst in the middle of reading.

Virgil wonders why he never knew of this place.

“Be quiet now, it’s almost time.”

The soft voice comes again from somewhere in the left half of the room, far away enough to allow Virgil to conclude that he’s on a different floor. It’s Roman, he knows it is now that he can hear his voice better, but what’s Roman doing in a library at three in the morning?

Virgil twists his hoodie strings in his fingers as he slowly walks into the library, making the trek across the plush green carpet to the common area in the center. The soft fabric caressing his bare feet feels more soothing than he was expecting, like a cloud holding him up as he walks across the sky. He doesn’t know if Roman came in here with the express intent of being alone, but hopefully he won’t be angry. Virgil couldn’t sleep, and who’s to say he’s to blame for being curious?

“Be careful not to fall out of line.”

A page finally submits to it’s rigid conditioning and falls back to the other half as Virgil approaches, exacerbated further by the small amount of a breeze he kicks up when he gets close enough. Scanning everything on the table is more of out of wonder, for once, rather than fear, and it’s a nice breath of air from the usual hypervigilance he’s been instilled with since his first appearance within Thomas as a side.

There’s not much of note in the way of the scattered supplies and note sheets littering the table, covered in neat handwriting that is undoubtedly Logan’s. It’s a surprise to see such a disquieted work space, such an unrefined lack of organization that isn’t typical of Logan’s usual behaviour. His need for categorizing and cataloguing and sorting is something that feels like it’s been ingrained into him since day one, and to see his visibly scattered thought and work process is weird. Really weird.

“Breathe so softly, keep your whispers low.”

Virgil notices that the bright red porcelain mug on the table doesn’t, in fact, hold coffee, but hot chocolate with colourful marshmallows. It’s fitting to Roman, suits his need for simple comforts such as a warm, sweet beverage, and the thought of him with a chocolate mustache on his lip from drinking it too quickly brings a small smile to Virgil’s face. Well, at least it does until Hot Chocolate Mustache Roman turns into Regular Remus, and Virgil berates his brain for corrupting a pleasant mental image like that.

The liquid is still very hot, as shown by the steam rising from the lip of the cup and the heat Virgil can feel radiating onto his fingers despite his hands not even being close to touching the ceramic. It hasn’t been drunk, not even a sip as evident by the perfectly clean and immaculate rim around the edge, which means Roman must have either gotten distracted or was in a hurry for something. Virgil can’t imagine that someone leisurely singing songs at 3 a.m. is necessarily in a rush, so that just leaves distraction. Typical of him. Virgil wishes he were annoyed instead of endeared.

“Silently dream of what you used to know.”

Virgil finally tears himself away from the warmth, comfort, and coziness of the reading area to start locating Roman, and it’s not particularly difficult to find him. His voice carries even when he’s not in one of those grandiose, lifting belts he loves so much, and the melodies act as a rope to pull Virgil closer to where he is. Up the stairs behind one of the bookcases on the wall, along balconies, traversing ladders and mazes of shelves just to try to find his way to the source of the song.

“They don’t love you, no, they never will.”

At that lyric, Virgil stops in his tracks, falters when the words sink in. Is… is that what Roman thinks? It could be argued that they’re just lyrics and don’t mean anything, but Virgil of all people knows best that the music we listen to is an extension of ourselves. It reflects our deepest wants, and fear, and insecurities, the ones we refuse to let out of their cages locked deep within the heart to escape and leave us vulnerable. And judging by the raw emotion in his voice as he sang that line, the way it dipped at the end of the line very narrowly missing a crack, it… it makes Virgil worried. And guilty, because this must be partially his fault. 

“They’ll always be better so rest your heart and still.”

Virgil wants to tell him that he’s wrong, wants to stave off the thickness steadily building in his throat as the result of what is likely to be tears. Roman’s cried around them, of course, but never over something very serious or personal. When he learned an actress Thomas looks up to died, or when he realized that a show they were scheduled to play got cancelled at the last minute after weeks and weeks of painstaking script memorization and practice.

It’s hard to not say something when he finally peers through an open space in the last bookcase in the row and sees his their Princey, of whom is surprisingly not in his trademark royal garb. He wears it so often Virgil has wondered before if he dons it while he sleeps, when he works out, even in the shower, and if Virgil’s being honest, it wouldn’t surprise him. But the familiar red sash and white jacket and golden lace embroidery is nowhere to be seen, replaced by something much less prince-like, more humbling, more… human.

Virgil never thought he’d be admitting to himself that Roman somehow is able to look hot in dark grey sweatpants and a loose red t-shirt, but here he is.

“It’s time to leave, I promise it’ll be fine.”

Roman sings much softer this time, as if coming to his senses about his surrounding, realizes that it’s late and he might wake someone up. Too late.

His face is stained with tear tracks, both old and fresh with the moisture building in his eyes only to spill over the dam and roll heavy upon his cheekbones. Virgil’s so used to him keeping up appearances, just as Virgil himself and every other side does despite how much Patton denies being sad or Logan denies having emotions, and he decides he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the sorrow in their resident prince’s eyes, doesn’t like the way meekness looks on him.

“Just don’t look, they’re not coming back this time.”

Roman seems to get impossibly smaller with every uttered word, curling in on himself where he sits against the railing, peering over the balcony to the ground floor many stories below with misty, unseeing eyes. His arms slowly snake their way up to his sides, come to clench at each other with a surprisingly harsh force. His fingers dig hard enough into his arms to cause them to go white with the lack of blood, to create crescents in the shape of his fingernails, and Virgil doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold himself back from rushing over to help any longer if he sees even the tiniest ounce of blood come out of Roman’s skin.

“Tell me now how is it up there.”

And it does, unfortunately. Roman has never been one to control his strength very well, and in this state of upset, it’s likely he doesn’t even feel the pain. Being numbed by self-loathing, the apathy that comes shortly after almost like a soothing but assertively temporary balm to the pain, it’s all so familiar. Virgil knows that state like the back of his hand, can almost feel it radiating off of Roman in waves, but maybe that’s his ability to sense the others’ anxiety. He’s still not very good at being able to differentiate between different feelings.

Tiny little droplets of blood well up from where he pressed a bit too hard with sharp, manicured nails, wells up just the same as a soft sob does. Virgil doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know what happened, what set him off, what triggered this kind of response. He doesn’t know the kinds of thoughts Roman may be having, or how in control of himself he is. He doesn’t know. But Virgil will damn well try to help despite all of that.

“Princey?” Virgil murmurs from behind, and Roman flinches as he whips his head around to meet Virgil’s concerned gaze. He seems bewildered for a moment, as if he hadn’t been expecting anybody to be in here, which would be a fair assumption if it weren’t for the fact that Virgil’s sleeping habits and schedule is awful. Roman takes a minute to process the turn of events, and then comes back to himself with a shuddering sigh as he hastily wipes his tears away with unforgiving fingers.

“Haha, what are-- what’re you doing up, Surly Temple? Prowling in the night? Some sort of… I dunno, emo ritual? A-All the emos gather ‘round at 2 a.m. to chant My Chemical Romance lyrics while they sacrifice band tees to the flames?” Roman rambles on nervously, a look on his face that implies even he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly when Virgil gives him a judging look, but then hisses through his teeth when he realizes he has minor wounds littering his upper arms. Virgil’s immediately back to that same worry, that same empathy that coursed through his veins before, and he calmly approaches the disheveled prince. Roman gives him an unreadable look when he sits down a respectable distance away (closer than Virgil originally planned on being, close enough to barely be able to brush shoulders if he just leaned over a bit), but soon his eyelids flutter as he shifts his gaze back to look out over the chasm filled with books.

“C’mon, Princey, what’s up?” Virgil asks quietly, knocks his shoulder against Roman’s in a show of good faith (at least he hopes it comes across like that). Although he still feels awkward talking so candidly with someone he’s used to bickering with all the time, Virgil finds himself oddly confident. Maybe it’s the survival instinct that’s embedded so deeply within his core, the want to protect and save those he cares about, those who have been hurt by both others and themselves. Although he and Deceit have had their differences in the past, ones Virgil is still having trouble reconciling even after acknowledging his faults in the unfortunate falling out, the two of them share that, at least. Self-preservation, two sides working to protect and better Thomas (and the sides, by extension) in their own specific ways. 

“It’s… it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Just saw a-- saw a sad movie! Needed to cry it out, haha!” Roman bites out, pained and strained and oh so fake, and Virgil huffs out an exasperated breath. It’s times like now where Virgil feels that intense urge to safeguard, to shelter the ones he cares about, and it builds in his chest like a scream waiting to burst out. There’s no way to expel the restless energy, no way to quench that absurd, overwhelming need to shield, except…

“Roman, don’t do this to yourself,” Virgil murmurs gently, reprimands with a soft, caring tone, and taking the other side into his arms is much easier than he ever imagined. It feels right, feels like he’s supposed to be here, helping and holding the creative side throughout anything the world could throw at him. Or whatever he can throw at himself; Virgil is no stranger to being your own worst enemy. Roman just laughs brokenly, shudders through another sob as he buries his face into the soft fabric of Virgil’s patchy jacket, and Virgil wraps his arms around the broader shoulders to offer the rare moment of tactile comfort while he’s able to stand physical touch.

They sit there for a long time, a long few hours of Roman crying as quietly as he can while Virgil delivers gentle, relaxing reassurances. He knows it isn’t easy to open up like this, to allow someone you’re not very close to see you vulnerable, and Virgil hopes that maybe this’ll spark a change. Maybe they can get to know each other a bit better, understand each other’s intentions and wants and needs, and maybe. Maybe they can be friends, could be something more.

Roman’s weeping tapers off eventually, shifts into soft sniffles as the sun rises high enough to shine bright rays through the enormous stained glass window in the center of the library, just above the fireplace. Virgil is starting to get uncomfortable from holding the same position for too long, and sitting hunched over on the floor for hours like this surely isn’t very good for his back, but he’ll deal with that when it comes. Right now, his focus is on Roman, on wiping the last stray tears away from his reddened cheeks after a moment’s hesitation, and he counts it a victory when Roman doesn’t push him away for it.

Roman sits up fully but doesn’t lean away, just presses his fingers into his eyes as the two of them finally rise and stretch their sore muscles. Virgil can’t help but admire the way the red light falls upon Roman’s face, the way it casts shadows and highlights and wraps his lips and lashes in hard candy. It’s breathtaking, steals the air from his lungs and the support from his trembling knees, and he knows they need to wrap this up quickly before the events of the night can fully crash down on Virgil and send him into a spiral. The panic attacks can wait until later, when he’s alone and doesn’t have to deal with the humiliation of being so uncharacteristically sappy.

Roman sudden barks out a hoarse laugh, shakes his head at Virgil’s questioning look. He leans back nonchalantly, tries to appear casual even though Virgil can see that his hands are still shaking in the aftermath of his breakdown. He won’t say anything, though. He doesn’t like when people call attention to his anxiety unnecessarily, and although he knows it’s out of concern, it often just makes it worse. “‘Grasp my hand and pull me out of here.’ The next line in the song.”

Virgil smirks at the soft, final notes, senses an idea blooming in his head. This is probably a bad idea, a terrible idea, and Roman will probably slap him for it, but… he said to grasp his hand and pull him out of there. So Virgil does, he slides his hand into Roman’s own, tugs him to run down the balcony and the stairs and through bookshelves and the thankful grin he’s given in return is absolutely blinding.

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 33: Kindness and Comfort

               The grand hall fell quiet as the tragic news hung in the air. They still couldn’t quite wrap their brains around it. It didn’t make any sense. There was no way Eilonwy could be dead.

               Edmund stared dumbfounded at the tabletop, trying to make sense of it all. A distinct sadness had lodged itself in the pit of his chest. Though their first interaction was bizarre, and she was without a doubt unrefined and crude, the just king had come to consider her a very dear friend. They shared a bond he couldn’t find in anyone else, a shared experience at the hands of the White Witch. She seemed to understand his struggles like no one else, but now she was gone and something hollow had formed inside of him.

               “This is ridiculous, Peter, that makes absolutely no sense” Susan piped up. Lucy could see the pain in his eyes at her accusation. “How do you know she’s dead?”

               The magnificent sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the edge of the table. He didn’t want to go through the whole story, but he knew he needed to. They needed to know. He forced himself to explain everything: Bone, Rosalie, the tavern, and that night when he received the fateful news. His voice cracked the closer he came to that moment, his entire body shaky and sick. And when he was finished, he gazed upon his brother and sisters like a shy little child, awaiting their response.

               Edmund was the first to speak. “I just can’t understand any of this” he said, brows furrowed. “This just doesn’t sound right.”

               “What do you mean?” Lucy asked.

               “Well, Eilonwy was always so tough” Edmund explained. “I doubt a little wolf attack would hurt her enough to kill her.”

               “Edmund!” Susan said sharply. She shot him a dark glare, silently insisting he not discount the apparent truth of someone’s death. As much as she hated to believe it herself, she believed Peter fully and did not think it appropriate to debate facts, especially at such a sensitive time. Her bark shook Edmund, and he instantly recoiled, though not completely willingly. He just couldn’t shake the fact that none of this sounded quite right.

               Lucy skated to her brother’s side and rested a gentle hand upon his shoulder. “Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked.

               Peter shook his head. “No, just…I just think I need to be left alone for a while” he replied quietly. “I need some time to myself.” The other three nodded in understanding as they watched Peter dismiss himself. Lucy’s heart truly broke for him. It almost physically pained her to see him this way.

               Before he disappeared, however, Susan jolted up from her seat and called after him, “What about Ginevra?”

               Peter glared back at her over his shoulder. “What about her?”

               “She’s been awaiting your response” Susan explained. “You should at least tell her what’s happened.”

               The magnificent scrunched up his face, almost as if he was offended, and waved his sister off. “I don’t care. You can tell her I’m dead.”

               “Peter!” Lucy exclaimed, but by then he was already out of sight.  

               Susan sighed, slumping her shoulders ever so slightly and rubbing her forearm. There was a long silence before she finally said, “I suppose I ought to go write her myself, to explain all that’s happened.” And with that, she slowly retreated back to her own chambers.

               She struggled to find the proper way to convey the circumstances as she sat her desk, quill in hand. It was an hour and a half before she finally came up with something halfway decent. Something that explained the situation while still maintaining some sense of Peter’s privacy, as well as requesting she give him some distance amid reassurances that she was still welcome to stay in correspondence. After all, Ginevra cared very deeply for the High King and deserved to know of his current state. When she was finally satisfied with what she had written, Susan signed and sealed the page and then trotted down the hall to the aviary so Hermes could send it off right away.

               Meanwhile, Edmund and Lucy wandered the halls together like two children skipping class. For a while, they walked in silence but Edmund could hardly stand his sister’s sour face. It wasn’t like her to be so down. “Alright, Lu, what’s on your mind?” he asked.

               “It’s just…I hate seeing Peter so depressed. I want to help, but I don’t know how!” she explained. He had to admit, the feeling was mutual. There was nothing either of them could do to bring Eilonwy back to life, so instead it only seemed fair they do something nice for the one suffering the most. Lucy took her brother’s hands in hers and looked upon him with utmost seriousness, asking “Edmund, can you please help me think of something absolutely brilliant? We’ll do it together, you and I, the perfect way to show Peter we care.” A small smile tugged at the corner of Edmund’s mouth as he nodded in agreement.

               A few days had passed when Peter awoke to a strange smell wafting from underneath his door. He rubbed his eyes as he forced himself out of bed, not bothering to put on slippers or even a shirt, and slowly creaked the door open. Sitting at his doorstep was a decorated basket tied up with ribbon and filled with sweet presents. He lifted it up and carried it inside, surveying the contents. Wrapped in a cloth were five homemade muffins courtesy of Edmund and Lucy (who apologized in a note that there were six, but they smelled so good she couldn’t help but take one for herself). Beside it was a bottle of wine with a tag around the neck indicating it was from Susan. A bouquet of gorse and sweet chestnut wrapped with twine was from Nefyn, who insisted they were healing flowers meant to help despair and anguish, apparently. And then there was the letter.

               Peter picked that up first, both intrigued and confused. It was stamped shut with the signature wax seal of Brenn. He opened it to find a short message from Ginevra.

Dearest Peter,

My heart aches for you, darling. Susan told me everything. I am deeply, terribly, dreadfully sorry for your loss. I know how much Eilonwy meant to you, and that you had always hoped someday to find her. I know nothing I say will ever heal your pain, but I hope it is of some reassurance that I will always be here for you. If you need absolutely anything, darling, do not hesitate to ask. I would swim the Great Eastern Sea for you if you asked me to, darling! My heart is with you at this terrible time. Please take care of yourself. Love, Ginevra

               Included was another tiny ribbon kite, this one gray and pale blue as if to connote grieving. He turned it over in his hand, and the tiniest smile touched his lips. Of course nothing would ever take away the pain of Eilonwy’s death, but in that moment he was incredibly grateful to have such kind and caring friends and family. He sunk down in his desk chair, folding the letter back up and placing the ribbon kite back in the basket. A heaviness began to break up like congestion inside of his chest and as he clenched that little scrap of Eilonwy’s cloak in his hand, he dropped his head down and began to silently cry.