#this seems petty but they made the comment in front of all of our peers and im just....

[saintshigaraki]

one thing about me is that i love apologizing when I've done something wrong

[floraltypes]

Distractions pt. 2

leroy jethro gibbs x reader

tw - mentions of shooting, sex, other things in a ncis episode

an - this is a part 2 to the first chapter. i might do a part three with more action between Gibbs and reader. but i already have some drabbles and a adding reader to a episode planned 🤫

“So, when did you get back?” Your old friend, Elise, asked, the both of you sitting in your living room the day after your night at the bar.

You had previously went to Gibbs house and he helped you rest for a while there, both of you letting your feelings out, but you didn’t know if he thought you would remember because you were drunk when you admitted it.

“Not too long after I told that bartender I was leaving,” You replied to her. She was finally asking about you after bragging about her very sexual night with the bar owner.

“Who took you back? Did you go back with someone at the bar?” She had a teasing tone at the end, wanting to mess with you a bit and get all the details.

“No, there really wasn’t anyone at the bar. I just got a coworker to drive me back. Speaking of driving, shouldn’t that cab you ordered be here soon?” You tried to change the subject, and luckily it was perfect timing.

“Oh right!” She shot up from the couch and rushed over to where her suitcase is, forgetting about you for a moment before waddling back in the too-high, high heels. “Bye! Thanks for letting me stay,” She grabbed the suitcase and left your apartment, allowing you to finally take a breath.

But you could only breathe in the peace for so long until your phone began to rang.

“Where are you?” The stern, deeper voice said into the phone, on the other line. You recognized the background noises of other people, figuring the person was probably somewhere public, or listening to the TV loudly.

“I’m at home? Why does this matter?” You asked getting off of the couch and moving to the kitchen to go and grab a glass of water, all of a sudden feeling a little parched. Gibbs did give you some medicine this morning.

Once you woke up, on the couch... There were pills and water right by your side and he came down at the perfect timing, motioning for you to drink it. He then went to make coffee for the both of you, but once you noticed the time, you made him drive you back to your apartment.

“Do you not look at clocks?” Gibbs sneered, and you could hear him yelling someone’s name yet it sounded a little fainter, maybe he moved the phone away.

“I do. I’m fine on time, what’s your problem?”

“You’re supposed to be at work.”

“No, I told you I was coming in late, like a week ago,” You remind him, specifically remembering how you planned to drop your friend off at the airport, not knowing she was going to get someone else to drive her. But, it was no use still coming in normal time, might as well take the break.

“Well, that doesn’t matter, a petty officer was found dead and we’re supposed to go and investigate. So, get your lazy-ass up and meet us at the address Kate sent you.”

“Got it,” You hung up the phone, rolling your eyes at your bosses usual antics. You figured he probably didn’t really mean the kiss, so you locked away those feelings and got yourself ready to go and investigate.

You were able to meet Ducky and Palmer, driving the large truck, at a stop so they could pick you up. Not your first choice, but the other agents were already too far to pick you up, and Ducky was always so kind to go out of his way.

“Hello, dear Y/n,” Ducky greeted with a smile, getting out of the truck to let you slide into the middle.

“Hey, Ducky. Palmer,” You greeted, moving in. “Mind catching me up to speed with what’s going on?”

And so they did. They told you about Petty Officer Liam who was found dead, apparently gunshot to the head, in a ditch near a cross.

Once you made it onto the scene, a news reporter, police, the sheriff, and the rest of your team all swarmed around where the Petty Officer was.

“Ducky, L/n, you two finally made it,” Gibbs voiced, watching the three of you walk down the small hill to where the cross and not to far the body was.

“Palmer ended up turning to the wrong road,” Ducky responded.

“You told me the wrong street!” Palmer explained, carrying down the bag Ducky needed and some other things to soon move the body.

“Now, now, Palmer,” You sent him a little look, soon walking over to where Todd and DiNozzo was.

“How was last night little drunk,” DiNozzo greeted, putting on his last gloves and handing you a set.

“Shut up DiNozzo,” Kate commented soon turning to you. “Did you end up getting laid?”

“Lord knows Y/n needs it,” DiNozzo added, laughing after his little sentence which let Kate to punch his shoulder.

“I don’t need it. I got home fine, no need for you to know, you just ditched me. So, don’t expect me to help set you up with that girl on the same floor as me, anymore,” You finished putting on your glove and grabbed the wallet near the body.

“Holding a lot of cash?” Kate asked, moving over by you to peer over your shoulder. “Maybe he was getting mugged and it went wrong,”

“The cash is still here. So, it probably wasn’t a mugging,” You answered, then grabbing a card that was present. “But it might his death could have something to do with this bar, seems like he has a lot of used coupons and receipts to there,” You reveled, pulling them out and handing some to Kate while putting the wallet into the bag.

Ducky and Palmer continued to check out the body to figure out that the cause of death was some sort of drug and not the gunshot, it was made to look like that. They would have to take the body back to be able to know for sure, so that’s what they did.

You took some pictures with DiNozzo and Todd and soon head back to Gibbs car, taking the front seat while the other two took the back. It was normal for you to take that seat, but at this moment it seemed odd.

“When we get back I want you to contact his wife DiNozzo, L/n and Todd will do some research about the bar you two found out about it,”

When arriving back to the office you and Kate quickly got to it and found out that in order to get in you had to go in as a couple. Kate talked to some people who had formally went there and one other friend of the petty officer that died and was able to figure out that there was a more secretive area apart of the bar where certain couples were only able to go.

None of the people could specifically say what went on, but figuring that out could lead to you and the other special agents to figuring out who exactly killed the petty officer.

“Gibbs,” Kate spoke, you and her walking over. “Turns out in order to get in you need to go as a couple and then if you say a certain co word, you’ll be able to get in to the underground part of it,”

“Okay, what did you find out DiNozzo?” He turned to DiNozzo who was walking over.

“Found out some passwords to things, hoping probie can then go through and figure out what the password for getting in tonight would be,”

“Who will go undercover?”

“DiNozzo and Todd I want you to stay with Liam’s wife and children, make sure that the person who killed Liam won’t go after this family if Liam still owes him something. L/n and I will go undercover tonight while Probie will be able to patch us all four together,” Gibbs commanded.

“With DiNozzo, really,” Kate looked at him and Gibbs just sent his regular stare. “Okay, DiNozzo it is,” She walked over to the man who was talking to the ‘probie’.

“Uh, Me and Kate could just switch Gibbs,” You told him, standing oddly by his desk.

“No, you and me will go undercover, you’ve done undercover work before,” He quickly told you, standing up. “Go get ready and I’ll meet you back here. Dress up nice,”

So that’s what you did, you left to travel back to your apartment and threw on a nicer dress, still short enough to run if needed but long enough to hide a gun that would be holstered to your thigh. You did your hair, leaving it down, and a light makeup look. You figured out a fake name, Leah Molane, and Gibbs as well, Frank Hater.

When he arrived you looked at him with a small smile, trying to take in his nice outfit for the occasion, and for a moment it seemed like he was trying to do the same. The car ride was fairly silent besides going over your plan.

“Were you able to get the fake ID’s?” You asked, sitting in the passenger seat and messing with your nails a bit while Gibbs drove to the bar.

“DiNozzo knew a guy, and I refuse to ask more,” He laughed a little and handed you your fake idea from his pocket. 

The two of you soon arrived to the bar, it was fairly easier than what it originally sounded like. You showed the man your ID’s and Gibbs snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you into his waist a bit more. 

He was able to find a open table and helped lead the way there. While walking you took a look around, while scoping you found a lot of normal things like couples making out, dancing, drinking, yet the mirror opening up as a door and three people disappearing into it caught your eye. You made it to your seat and the two of you sat right next to each other in the booth. 

“What you got McGee?” Gibbs asked into his watch, it looked like everyone was busy doing their own thing to pay attention to the older man who was speaking into his watch. 

“Abby was able to find out the drug that was put into Liam’s drink that killed him. It changes the original drinks color yellow, so don’t drink anything yellow,”

“We could figure that out on our own,” Gibbs grumbled a little underneath his breath. “What else do you have? That better not be it,” 

“It’s not Gibbs,” Abby now spoke. “We figured out the code to get to the downstairs area!” 

“And what is it?”

The both of you could hear some arguing on the other line, which just seemed to annoy Gibbs more. 

“It’s, uh,” McGee coughed. “It’s ‘sex vault’ boss, I think because its a drink name on the menu or because they have a section where couples can go and have, uh, se-”

“Enough McGee, I just needed the code,” Gibbs turned off his device allowing McGee and them to hear what he was saying. Gibbs turned to you and leaned a bit, his lips hovering over your own. “It would be good for us to kiss now, so we don’t blow our cover,”

“Makes sense,” You hummed, your eyes connecting with his own as you looked up at him. 

“Just pretend it’s just us, like yesterday,” He whispered, before his lips were on yours and moving at a fast pace. It was so much more passionate than the last time. 

“The two of you know this is a VIP area, right?” A woman walked over, the gum in her mouth being obnoxiously loud.

“Yeah, obviously,” Gibbs responded, moving away from your face and grabbing your hand. “We’ll take two ‘sex vaults’,” He told her and the woman went scurrying back off behind the counter. 

“Boss, we found out that there is another Petty Officer that frequented that bar often. His name is Denup and he served the same time that Liam did, DiNozzo is asking Liam’s wife about him and Abby is doing some research on him,” Mcgee spoke into the device that was in yours and Gibbs ear. 

“Got it,” Gibbs mumbled into the watch and soon the woman walked back over. “Find out more and be quick,”

The woman came and beckoned for the both of you to follow her to where the mirror you saw open earlier was. 

“Liam’s wife said she didn’t have too much on Denup but we were able to find a type of journal Liam was keeping with tons of money, it looks like in the journal there are stats on sports,” DiNozzo spoke this time. 

“Denup is also not doing too well finacially, we were able to get ahold of his wife and ask her a few questions. We learned he’s taking on some extra jobs,” Kate spoke now. 

“Abby, Denup’s prints might be in the system, run them with the ones we found on the wallet,” Gibbs quiclly spoke into his watch once the woman left you both. You looked around at a few people chatting and watching the games, there was another smaller bar down here, multiple TV’s, some tables, and a pool table. 

“When doing bets in settings like these, who usually takes care of handing out the money?” You asked Gibbs. 

“The bartender,” He answered. 

“They also said Denup was taking on extra jobs and doing bad financially. What if he is a bartender here and has been scamming people?”

“Liam found out and threatened to reveal what he was doing, which would ruin his chances of getting out of the hole,” Gibbs realized what you were saying. 

“Exactly, but it seems like something is missing. If Denup was doing this on his own, how could no one else catch on? And how is he not out of the whole already. I’m going to assume there are many bets that happen down here, so where is some of that money going?”

The two of you walked up to the bar and took a seat at the two stools that were placed in front of it. 

“You both thinking of making a bet?” “Not with him,” You laughed, pointing to Gibbs. “Man loses all of them, is a loser in general. But what about you, do you lose? What’s your name?” 

“Just call me Denup, that’s what most of the people down here do. Now what would you like, a drink or some cash?”

“I’d like to get.a little tour of your selection back there,” You smiled, getting up from your stool and moving to walk around the corner. 

“Gibbs, his prints match the wallet, but Liam’s ID has a different print itsself,” Abby revealed, once again, speaking into the device in the both of your ears. Gibbs nodded to you, giving you the confirmation to arrest the man. 

Gibbs stood up and pulled out his ID. “Denup, NCIS, you’re under arrest,” 

Denup grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you into his side and grabbing a knife, sticking it to your throat. “Louis!” You heard Denup yell, and watched Gibbs spin around, just in time, to watch another man reach into his pocket, grabbing a gun. Gibbs quickly shot him in his shoulder, the man dropping the gun. You used this opportunity of Denup being in shock to reach down to your thigh to grab the gun and quickly aim it at the mans toe. He dropped the knife yelling, giving you enough time to kick it away and for Gibbs to toss you a pair of handcuffs he had in his pockets. 

“Just NCIS folks, please go back to your drinks,” You said to the shocked people around, you handcuffed Denup and pulled him off the ground. “I know your toe got shot or whatever, but do you think you could at leas try to walk out of here?” 

You and Gibbs left the bar, informing the team you caught the suspects and the police were at the front of the bar, ready to take them into custody. Gibbs told everyone they could go home and offered to take you back since you went together. 

“Successful date night I would say,” He joked once the two of you were in the car and on the rode home. 

“For sure, got a kiss and arrested two murderer’s,” You laughed.

“I hope you know that just because I like kissing you I won’t soften the papers you’ll be filling out tomorrow,” He looked over to you with a calm smile playing on his lips. 

“I could never,” You smiled back. “I do expect you to now be buying me a coffee though,” 

“If that’s all I need to do, it doesn’t sound like the worst thing,” 

[prettywordsyouleft]

Amazing Together

Pairing: Bang Yongguk x female reader

Genre: fluff / enemies to lovers

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol

Prompt: “I’ve always loved you.” - #16 of Idea Starters

Word count: 1429

“I’ve always loved you,” you murmured into his skin, delighted when a husky chuckle responded. Peering up at the handsome man, you smirked. “So maybe it wasn’t love at first sight.”

“I think contempt would be a better fitting word, don’t you?”

“I didn’t exactly hate you either.”

“It was close,” he answered, and you shrugged playfully. Toying with your bare skin, he smiled. “But now, we’re close in another way.”

“Intimacy suits us,” you agreed, and he chuckled again.

“I don’t want you in any other way.”

If someone had told you eighteen months ago that you would end up laying in Bang Yongguk’s arms whispering nothings at one another, you’d laughed hysterically. You would have been convinced something like this would only happen with you held at your own will or under the influence of something strong. Because when you first met the man, you had no time for him.

The feeling was mutual.

“Do we really need to hang out with him?” you implored Youngjae, who checked his watch before shooting you a look. You sighed heavily. “You know, I don’t get how someone like you is friends with someone like him.”

“Watch it. Someone like me is also friends with you. Some might say that’s unfathomable too,” he retorted, grinning when you reached out to swat him. Dodging your swing, Youngjae shrugged. “Yongguk and I go way back. And he’s new to this area. It’d be unsavoury of me to leave a friend in the lurch.”

Grumbling, you looked around the bar, hoping something came up to prevent Yongguk from joining your group of friends tonight.

You had enough of him last Friday night to wish for this one to be peaceful. However, five minutes later, your luck was up, the tall man walking over to your booth and smiling genuinely at his friends.

Your friends.

You knew it was petty. After all, Youngjae had known Yongguk a whole lot longer than you had known him. But as his current closest friend, you felt as if the connection he had with you was just as valid. If not stronger than the one he had with some guy returning from overseas.

At first, you were intrigued by his dark eyes and wavy hair. What was his story? What made Yongguk tick? That curiosity had been burned by his curt responses, barely answering you before talking in-depth with Jongup and Youngjae about their youth. You were bitter, feeling more and more like the outcast around your friends than you ought to.

Yongguk made no attempts to get to know you, half the time you believed he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. A sour taste formed in your mouth and was difficult to swallow down with the beer you consumed.

Daehyun chuckled at your side. “Y/N, slow down on that. Someone might take advantage of you if you’re not in your right mind.”

You heard a snort then, your eyes glancing across the table to where Yongguk sat, his lips curled up in the faintest smile.

It was then when you decided you would only ever despise him.

“Y/N! Come on!”

“No way am I working with him!” you answered, shaking your head vigorously in the process. “Nope! Nothing you say or do could make me take Yongguk on as a client.”

“Nothing? You were pretty desperate for these the other day,” Youngjae countered, and you wished you hadn’t looked up, your barriers crumbling in the face of temptation.

Snatching the concert tickets to your favourite band out of your friend’s hand, you gasped. “How did you get these?! It was sold out within five minutes!”

“I know a friend who knows some pretty important people.”

“Who?” you murmured, checking the tickets over for their validity.

“Your new client.”

Snapping your focus up, you blinked slowly. “How would Yongguk be able to get tickets like this?”

“Spend some time with the guy. There’s a whole lot to him that you know nothing about.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d like to keep it that way. Mysteries have never enticed anything further than a burn from the flame for me.”

“You’re so poetic,” Youngjae mused, clasping his hands together. “Perhaps you could illustrate something equally as grand to Yongguk’s work.”

“I’m not interested,” you announced, holding onto the tickets Youngjae went to pluck out of your grip a little too much still. Arching an eyebrow at you, Youngjae removed them from your reluctant hands.

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to ask Junhong if he’ll want to come see-”

“Junhong won’t appreciate them like I do!”

Youngjae’s eyebrow shifted up again. “Just admit it, already.”

“Fine. I’ll take him on as a client. But only because you bribed me in the most painful way. I’ll remember this.”

“Oh, completely. What’s a best friend worth if they don’t use your weaknesses against you?” Youngjae commented with a laugh, your scowl not deterring him. “I think this will be a wonderful opportunity for you both.”

“Hardly. He’s intolerable at best.”

“So are you.”

“Hey!”

Youngjae’s smile softened. “I honestly believe you could be amazing together if you stopped hating on one another.”

“You live in fairy tales, Youngjae. In the real world, Yongguk and I will be nothing.”

“So, is this not the real world, then?” Yongguk breathed into your ear, trailing his lips along the side of your neck.

“It sure feels like a dream to me,” you told him giddily, nuzzling into his touch.

For some time, it had felt that way too.

The project you worked on together had been a surprisingly great success. And in the process of collaborating, you opened up with him, Yongguk’s broody and aloof nature finally seen as shy and cautious instead.

“You don’t hate me?” you asked when the project was done and dusted, catching Yongguk by surprise.

After blinking, he composed himself and shook his head. “Why work with someone you dislike?”

“Well, sometimes talent is worth attempting to make an arrangement with.”

Yongguk cocked his head to the side. “Was it that bad for you in the beginning?”

“Considering you barely acknowledged my existence in our group of friends, yeah.”

“Ah,” he simply said, nodding softly. “I’m sorry if you thought that.”

“What else was I meant to think? You hardly answered me.”

“I was often flustered by you.”

“By simple questions?” you wondered, and Yongguk’s gaze diverted to the wall. “Why be flustered by me?”

“Perhaps you don’t own a mirror.”

Frowning at his statement, you moved closer, acutely aware of how this made him uncomfortable. Yongguk didn’t quite meet your gaze, and you slowly smiled. “No way.”

“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Y/N.”

“We’re talking about other things than work now, Yongguk.”

“I was attracted, yes,” he admitted painfully, gathering his things up from the large table you had sat at all afternoon finalising your project.

You jumped in front of him. “Was?”

“Hm?”

“Are you no longer attracted?”

“I see you’re having fun at my expense. Might I remind you that it was you who declared me the enemy.”

“You left me no choice with how little you offered!”

“How much should I offer you now?” he asked, his hesitancy evaporating. The way Yongguk stared at you now, completely unbridled, took your breath away.

It wasn’t like you to be at a loss for words, but your answer failed to arrive in a timely fashion.

You were certain the look within his dark eyes now seemed a little too satisfied.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Should we have dinner together?”

“Why?” you breathed, and Yongguk’s expression faltered. You blinked away from his stronghold, realising the rejection you were inadvertently sending as a message. You shook and then nodded your head. “Yes! Let’s do dinner.”

“You can ask me all the questions you want to.”

“Are you trying to cause me heart failure?”

He smirked. “I know you like to talk a whole lot more than I do.”

“I’m not sure how well I’ll talk tonight.”

“Have I thrown you off?” he wondered, and you groaned loudly.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to have to deal with an incredibly smug Youngjae soon?”

“What’s Youngjae got to do with anything?” Yongguk asked, and you dismissed the question before linking your arm through his as you both headed for the exit of your studio.

Maybe Youngjae was right, you thought as you glanced up hopefully at Yongguk leading you towards his car. And as he opened the passenger door for you, you smiled.

We might just be amazing together.

_________________

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[texanredrose]

Soooo, lots of interesting ones in there, but Long Term Investment... Fae-Yang?? :eyes:

Fae Yang who really isn't good at this whole Fae magic thing.

Yang watched as the woman knelt before her, head bowed. A human desperate for a solution had come to her part of the woods, begged of her a boon, and accepted her price; every now and again, someone would come and ask for something fantastic, but this was the first time someone had actually accepted her terms straight away. Yang… hadn’t decided how she felt about it quite yet.

“Deal,” she said, head still bowed and voice somber. “You have my word.”

“Okay,” she replied, catching the casual tone and correcting herself while clearing her throat. Raven had drummed it into her head for years that the fae had a certain air about them that they had to maintain. “Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade.”

“Thank you.” The woman looked up then, peerless blue eyes peering at her through white bangs that fell across the right side of her face. “Perhaps now, things can truly change.” She got to her feet, slightly taller than the fae in her polished boots. “With my mother capable of retaking the crown, our kingdom has hope again.”

“I just hope the price won’t prove to be too high.” She always hated that part. Mages could use magic without any stipulations but the fae had to be paid. Even now, she could feel a thread as a bit of her innate magic worked its way to the woman’s mother, ready to begin healing her and it would continue to prolong the woman’s life until the price was paid. Then… well, some fae revoked all their magic, and whatever calamity they were asked to do or undo would flow like a river with its dam removed. Yang never liked that; it didn’t make sense to her. It seemed… rude and petty. “I guess we just have to wait and see.”

“Indeed.” A few moments passed in silence, the two of them just… staring at each other. “So… when do we begin?”

“Begin?” Yang rose a brow, confused. “Begin what?”

“You said you wanted my firstborn as payment.”

“Yeah.” She nodded slowly. “And… you agreed to that.”

“Of course. Now, when do we start?” The woman looked around, a small frown touching her lips. “I’ll admit, this isn’t the most erotic location but I suppose it will do.”

First, Yang considered why the inherent eroticism of her woodland home- not much, really, just a hollowed out burrow beneath an old tree, the entrance between two twisted roots- would be a topic for conversation warranting a comment.

Then, the pieces clicked into place.

“I… wait.” She blinked, trying to get a handle on what was going on while waving her hands in front of her. “Do you think- me and you- are you saying- what are you trying to say, here?”

“Well, you want a child, so I assume-”

“I don’t want a child, first off-”

The woman’s expression pinched into one of annoyance. “Then why make that your price?”

“Because it’s tradition!” She took a few steps back, trying to put a bit of distance between them. In the dark of early evening, she almost wished she didn’t have bright blonde locks cascading down her back; it would make disappearing into the shadows slightly more feasible. “Look, I don’t even like asking for something in return, okay? We just- we have to, it’s how fae magic works! I’ve always been told that asking for the firstborn is the, uh… like… default option. Then, most people, ya know, haggle.”

The human seemed genuinely perplexed for a moment before her expression turned thoughtful. “I see… well… if I’m honest, I’m not sure if I’ve made the right decision in that case. Giving a child to someone who doesn’t want one… I can’t imagine the child will be well taken care of by that person.”

Yang bristled at that, tempted to close the distance as her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Hey, don’t jump to conclusions! I basically raised my sister; I don’t mind having a kid or taking care of one.” At that point, she became aware of the flush to her cheeks becoming even hotter. “I’m just- I’m not going to just sleep with you to satisfy the terms of the deal, okay?”

For a moment, the woman seemed genuinely surprised. “Are you saying I have to woo you first?”

“What? How did- where are you drawing these conclusions from!?” The human moved back, likely reacting to her fae heritage shining through; without looking, she could tell her outburst of anger had turned her eyes from soft lilac to burning red as her hair began moving like a wildfire.

“I didn’t mean to insult you; I just don’t have many prospects and I imagine you’d rather have this debt settled sooner as opposed to later.”

Despite the anger still rolling through her, she could at least show genuine surprise at that statement. “How can someone like you not have any prospects?”

While the woman didn’t possess the supernatural beauty of the fae, she was attractive by human standards. Hair like moonlight, eyes like a frozen lake, tall and rigid and a bit too formal with sharp features and a smooth gait- Yang had seen many half as fair find partners without trouble, and humans always prized beauty, even when they claimed to be immune to its charms. She shouldn’t have any trouble finding a partner.

Yet, the wry smile on her lips begged to differ. “Let’s just say, those who are interested have all the wrong reasons.” Then, she looked around. “Are you confined to this area of the woods?”

“I… guess.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Yang leaned back against her home, watching the woman carefully. Raven had warned her that humans would sometimes try to outsmart the fae once a deal had been struck. As long as whatever trick she planned to pull didn’t harm Yang or her harm, she rightly wouldn’t care if the woman somehow found a loophole. “This is where I live and I’m not supposed to leave my home unattended.”

“I see.” A hum. “I must return home before my mother will be healed, correct?”

“Yeah. That’s part of the deal.”

“Do I have to stay home for her to be healthy?”

“N-no.”

A nod and a glance towards the sky above, obscured by the leaves of the tree, before she spoke. “Then, I must take my leave.” The woman drew herself to her full height and bowed at the waist, her hand over her heart. “Good evening, Miss Sunbeam of the fae, and farewell.”

“Yeah, take care... Princess.” She hated not knowing the woman’s name but names were powerful things to the fae. Humans were long warned not to impart such sensitive information to her kind. It was a wise decision but it just highlighted the inherent tragedy in her birthright. Rather that leave it at just the title, though, Yang decided to assign a fitting name, as she usually did. “Moonlight.” The woman stopped, looking back with a raised brow. “Uh… sorry. About the miscommunication. I didn’t mean to make you think that, uh, you had to sleep with me.”

A surprisingly soft smile. “Nothing to worry about, Miss Sunbeam. It wasn’t what I would call a threat.”

As the woman left the small clearing in front of her home, the fae found herself conflicted about the whole ordeal. She was happy the woman’s mother would recover… but now she wondered what she’d do when her payment came due. Not that she wouldn’t take care of the child, of course; she didn’t know how she’d handle taking the child from someone.

It scratched at a wound not yet healed and she instead turned her train of thought away from it and retreated to her burrow.

[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: You Feel Insecure Because You’re Taller Than Them

Jin:

He called out your name, trying to reach up into the cupboard to grab the jar of sauce he’d brought, knocking it with his fingertips. You walked in, picking it up quite easily, slamming it onto the countertop making him jump.

“There you go, it does come in handy being tall,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you walked back out of the room only for Jin to follow straight behind you.

He could tell straight away something was wrong. “Why are you being so snappy? All I asked you to do was reach the sauce so I could make us some dinner.”

You spun around to face him, “it’s not about that Jin, I hate being taller than you sometimes, these are the things that you should be doing for me, not the other way around.”

“Is this what all this is about? You really think that bothers me?”

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t.”

He frowned, walking across to stand in front of you, “I love you, for you, you need to stop worrying so much about your height, please.”

“Alright, I’m sorry for being so snappy with you just then.”

“It’s fine, I understand your concerns.”

Yoongi:

You stood up at the studio, walking past Jimin to grab your bottle of water, from beside you, you could hear the sniggers coming from Jungkook, you turned to face him, waiting to hear what it was he had to say.

“Jimin is the one person Y/N makes look tinnier than Yoongi, it’s so funny,” he chuckled, unaware of the insecurities you battled, looking across to Yoongi for help.

Yoongi sighed, shaking his head across at the maknae, “you don’t need to make comments like that, Y/N’s no giant, she’s human, and only slightly taller than Jimin and I.”

Jungkook looked across at you, sensing he’d caused some hurt, “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything Y/N, I was just joking around, I thought it would be funny.”

“It’s fine, it’s my problem that I get so worried about it all.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You smiled across at him, feeling Yoongi appear by your side, “let’s just forget it happened, you know now, and you won’t make the same mistake again.”

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry that he ended up bringing that up?”

“I’m fine Yoongi, don’t worry about me.”

Hoseok:

You were quick to place your laptop underneath your bed when you heard his footsteps come up the stairs, the awkwardness could be felt as soon as he walked into the room, watching as you smiled weakly across at him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” He asked straight away, knowing by the look on your face that something was on your mind. “Just tell me what you’ve been thinking.”

You sighed, “I’ve been wondering quite recently why you’re in a relationship with me. Does it never bother you that I’m taller than you? Even just a little bit?” His head shook, sitting on the end of the bed, “I always tell you that it never bothers me because it really doesn’t, it’s not important to me at all.”

“It is important to some people though, who make it known.”

“You’ve been reading fan comments?”

You knew he’d be mad, but you nodded anyway. “I can’t help it sometimes, but then it just makes me feel even more insecure in our relationship.”

“You never have to feel insecure; I only want you Y/N.” “I know, I’m lucky to have you.”

Namjoon:

He frowned noticing a bag at the front door when he came home, instincts kicked in and he leant down, peering in he found a bag of all your high heels ready to be thrown away when you next went out to the shop.

“Why have you got rid of all of these?” He asked, carrying the bag into the living room where you sat on the sofa, “some of these are beautiful, I know how much you love them.”

Your head shook, “they make me too tall Joon, I need to get rid of them so that I can stand at your height, I don’t want to be any taller beside you.”

He tipped the bag out, watching as all the heels fell to the floor, “there is now way that I am letting you get rid of all of these, you don’t need to bin them.”

“But they make me look so tall Namjoon, and you don’t.”

“I know, but it doesn’t bother me.”

He moved to sit on the sofa beside you, resting his hand on your leg, “I’m sorry, I just got all worried that people were talking, I thought it would be good to get rid of them.”

“No way, I want you to continue wearing them and look beautiful.”

“You’re so sweet Namjoon, thank you.”

Jimin:

You were terrified as you stood beside him at the event, the flashes of the cameras taking photos of the two of you set your insecurities off terribly, your heart was pounding as you tried to bend your knees as best you could.

“Don’t do that,” you heard him whisper into your ear, spotting you drop your knees to be the same height as he was, “you don’t need to worry about it, stand tall, and be you, please.”

Your head shook, “I don’t want the photos to show that I’m taller than you, so I’m going to be the same height as you,” you told him, continuing to do so.

He sighed, but tried hard not to make a scene, “It shouldn’t matter what the photos look like as long as we’re in them, it never bothers me what they look like, and it shouldn’t you.”

“But it does, because I know people always spot it.”

“They honestly don’t, you’re worrying.”

Your head shook, feeling him tighten his grip around your waist, “do whatever makes you comfortable, but I’m honest you don’t need to worry about anything.”

“I’m fine doing this; I don’t want to be too tall.”

“If that’s what you want, then go for it.”

Taehyung:

Fans were often quick to add to your insecurities about your height, it often was the topic when it came to mentions about you in social media, which you always tried your best to ignore, but sometimes, your eye was caught.

“Did you see that?” You asked him, as you walked past two fans, one went up on their tiptoes to mock you, “what am I supposed to do about this?”

He squeezed your hand tightly, “Ignore it, just like I do. We don’t want to let them know that they’ve won and give them the satisfaction that they’ve got a response out of you.”

You nodded, turning away from where they were, “My heart is pounding right now, they made it so obvious, is it really that obvious in real life too.” “Of course, not, they just like to exaggerate and be stupid.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

He continued to walk along the street, “we’re going to carry on with our day and ignore all the petty things any fake fans want to try.”

“You always know the right things to do in these situations.” “I’ve grown a thick skin to it too.”

Jungkook:

He glanced over at an opportune time as you scrolled through your social media page, spotting an edit made of the two of you, your frame had been stretched so you stood almost twice as tall as Jungkook did.

“Don’t look at it,” he quickly snapped, placing the lid of your laptop down to hide it, “it’s stupid and immature,” he quickly added, moving the device away from you.

You sighed, watching him move it away, “I’m fed up of seeing all these things, I don’t get what the big deal is that I’m a couple of inches taller, the fans seem to get a kick out of it Kook.”

His arm wrapped around you, pulling you closely into his frame, “they don’t appreciate that you make me happy, they just want to try and tear you down.”

“But why? Why would someone do this to me?”

“Because they’re jealous of you.”

Your head shook with a light chuckle, “do they not realise how much this hurts? I’m insecure enough about this as it is, without seeing all of this too.”

“I’ll make it stop, somehow, I’ll find a way.”

“I’ve just got to get through it Kook.”

---

Masterlist

[steves-on-a-plane]

For Frosting & Feelings (Pt 2)

Part One  Written for: @buckybarnesbingo​   Words: 1272 Square Filled: Baker!Bucky Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader   Warnings: none Summary: Reader and Bucky are owners of rival bakeries. This year they’ve decided to team up for the town’s cake-off. Can their new found truce survive after years of competing?  

“This is the craziest thing that either of us has ever done.” Bucky told you as he studied the three-foot cake before you.

The cake was composed of a flat sheet cake base with carved rolling hills of various levels. Above the hills was a small stack of round cakes help up by columns. Atop the small cake was a photo realistic sleeping lion made of cake, fondant and modeling chocolate. The tallest part of the cake was another stack of round cakes with a lamb atop it. While the lion slept below, the lamb peered down at him.

The sheet cake base had been intricately decorated to look like a field of grass and wildflowers. There was a waterfall made of melted sour blue candies that connected to a stream which ran through the middle of the cake. The candy steam even had modeling chocolate fish swimming around in it. Visually it was an impressive cake backed by equally as impressive flavor profiles. The flat sheets were lemon and mint cake with lemon zest buttercream frosting. The lion round cake was apple cinnamon and the lamb cake was banana with hazelnut buttercream.

“Better together for sure.” You decided. “But gosh I am so tired.” You leaned your head against Bucky’s shoulder, bearing some of your weight on him.

“We’ve been at this for hours.” Bucky acknowledged. “Competition doesn’t start for another seven hours. That’s plenty of time for a nap.” He suggested. Bucky put one arm around your shoulder, holding you.

“We have to get this cake to the venue by six.” You yawned. “That’s in three hours.”

“Nah the cake has to get there. We don’t have to bring it.” He pointed out. Bucky fished his phone out of his pocket and called someone. They chatted quickly before Bucky ended the call. “My guys’ll be here in a few. They’ll pick up the cake and make sure it gets to the venue safely. After that I’ll drive you home.”

“I can drive myself!” You snapped, pulling away from him.

“[Y/N], you were tired when I got here. After making this thing? You’ve got to be out right exhausted. I’m going to make sure you get home safe.” He insisted.

“Look at that, chivalry isn’t dead.” You smiled. It didn’t take long for Bucky’s team of cake movers to arrive. The two of you helped break the cake down into movable sections and load it into the Patisserie’s refrigerated box truck. “They better be careful with my cake, Bucky.” You told him ask you watched his truck drive away.

“First of all, that’s our cake. Second of all, have I ever showed up with a damaged cake?” He questioned you.

“Okay, Okay.” You held your hands up. “I just need some sleep.”

“My car’s just out back.” He said, walking towards the back door.

“Right.” You and Bucky made sure everything was locked up out front before exiting the bakery through the back door and lock it. “Actually, I live upstairs.” You pointed to a set of stairs that led to an apartment above your bakery. “So, if you’re too tired to drive home…”

“That depends, do you have a good couch?” Bucky questioned as you started walking towards the stairs.

“No.” You shook your head, looking back at him over your shoulder. “It’s okay to watch movies on, but it’s terrible to sleep on. However, I have a great bed with room enough for both of us.” You faced forward again climbing on the stairs.

“If I would have known all it took to get in bed with you was bake you a cake, I would have done it years ago.” Bucky joked as he climbed the steps behind you.

“I just realized, I never thanked you.” You’d reached the landing at the top of the stairs. You unlocked your door and stepped inside of your apartment.

“I can think of some ways you can thank me.” He said cheekily.

“Maybe tomorrow after we win the cake-off. For now, sleep.” You yawned again. Bucky shut and secured the door while you stumbled your way into the bedroom, stripping your clothes as you went.

“This feels like someone isn’t playing fair…” He commented following after you. You felt a warm pair of hands on your waist and before you knew it you were being lifted off the floor.

“Now who’s not playing fair?” You giggled as he cradled you in your arms.

“Mmm you smell like frosting.” He whispered.

“You smell like sweat.” You teased him.

Bucky managed to find the bedroom easily enough. He kicked the door open wider and brought you both to the bed. His lips were on yours the second your head hit the pillow. You kissed him back your fingers grasping at his shirt hungrily. The years of animosity and rivalry had finally boiled over into passion. Suddenly you weren’t very tired anymore.

When you finally paused to catch your breath, Bucky seized the opportunity to tug off his shirt and pants. He flopped down in the bed next to you. You rolled over so you were both laying on your sides. Bucky seemed to be studying you, his eyes traveling up and down your body. You started to do the same, but you stopped short at the sight of his arm.

“I just realized I never asked you about it before.” You apologized.

“Mostly people don’t.” His said quietly. “My finance manager tells all our new hires that I lost it in an industrial mixer. Always scare the hell out of them.” He chuckled.  

“What’s the truth?” You asked.

“Motorcycle accident when I was a kid. Thought I was cool, zipping between cars and this one guy couldn’t stop in time. I cut him off and…well I’m lucky it was just my arm.” He huffed. “Scared the stupid out of me though. Sold what was left of that bike and my other one the second I was released from the hospital. That’s also when I picked up baking. I was home recovering for a long time. My mom was a huge baker. Made dessert for me and my pops every night. I started helping out while I was home and now I’m the best baker this town has even seen.”

“Second best baker.” You corrected him.

“If you want to start tallying our wins, year by year...” He offered.

“Full transparency, I did that once.” You admitted sheepishly. “There was that scholarship contest in High School, do you remember?”

“The prize was like $200, right?” He recalled.

“A $200 prize you won for a deflated suffle! I was young and petty, but I’ve been keeping a tally ever since. We’re actually tied for wins at the moment.” You told him.

“And it’s going to stay that way when we win the competition together tomorrow.” Bucky told you confidently. “How about you, [Y/N]? How did you get into baking?”

“Easy Bake Oven.” You told him. “My parents got me one when I was little, it was the hot toy that Christmas and I loved it. They had all these little kits with premeasured ingredients and I worked my way through the entire catalog of options After a while I started making my own recipes and by the time I was ten, I was using a real oven.”

“And when did you learn your signature croissant recipe?” He questioned.

“I knew it! You do like my croissants!” You exclaimed.

“I like a hell of a lot more than your croissants, [Y/N].” Bucky assured you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, kissing you again.

[solacryptid]

Unexpected Fate

Inheritance Cycle (Eragon) & Lord of the Rings Crossover

Summary: Vilansia and her dragon, Svellevarina, have spent many years training the young dragon riders alongside Eragon and Saphira. But their time of adventure has come. The people of Middle Earth have called for aid and Alagaesia will answer.

Chapter 4: Council of Elrond

A set of seats were arranged in a half-circle around a stone table with Lord Elrond seated just behind that. I was placed in a seat at the end to allow room for Svellevarina to be next to me. I spotted Frodo and Gandalf as they walked in together and took their seats. Frodo sat next to me, his large feet dangling off of the edge of the chair. Gandalf sat on his left. There were other Elves here as well, though their dress suggested that they were not Elves of Rivendell. Dwarves were present, their grumbling voices not dissimilar to the dwarves of Alagaesia. Svell's presence was causing unease among their group, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons as they stared at her. Lastly, there were men seated within the council, and they too were fascinated with my dragon.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," Elrond began. "you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction, none can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom," He peered at Frodo. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo,"

All eyes were on the young Hobbit as he shuffled out of his chair and reached into his pocket before placing a single golden ring on the stone table. He returned to his seat with a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropped with a lack of tension.

Something in the air shifted. There was tension now, and uncertainty. I strengthened the barriers in my mind to prevent whatever energy this was from influencing me.

"So it is true," one of the men said, leaning forward in his chair. He stood now, addressing the council.

In a dream, I saw the Eastern skies grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered. Voices crying 'your doom is near at hand'" He stepped closer to the Ring. "Ilsudar's bane is found." As if in a trance he began to reach for it. "Ilsudur's bane..."

"Boromir!" Elrond commanded as he stood tall before him.

Dark clouds grew over the city as Gandalf came forward, his tone low and grave. He was speaking in a language I did not recognize as the air around us grew thick and heavy. The man, Boromir, retreated to his seat as Gandalf chanted. Svellevarina growled low in her chest with unease.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here," Elrond said, rubbing his temple.

Gandalf made his way back to his seat. "I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond. For the Black Speech of Mordor: may it be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil,"

The company shifted in their seats.

"Aye, it is a gift!" Boromir spoke again with renewed vigor. He stood tall before us. "A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy, let us use it against him!"

"You cannot wield it," another man replied. He was leaning against the arm of his chair. He sat separately from the other men and his dark attire did not match the dress of anyone else present.

"He comes alone. How odd," Svell commented to me.

"None of us can," the man continued. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone, it has no other master,"

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir retorted.

An elf with striking blond hair stood to address Boromir. "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance,"

Boromir's face fell in disbelief. "Aragorn? This is Ilsuldur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas affirmed.

Aragorn shook his head at the elf and spoke to him in a foreign language which led him to return to his seat.

Boromir glared at the other man. "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said. "We cannot use it,"

"You have only one choice," Elrond said. "The Ring must be destroyed,"

There was only the slightest moment of silence before one of the Dwarves stood from his seat, grabbing hold of his axe as he did. "Then what are we waiting for?" He raised the weapon above his head as he approached the stone table, then slammed it down.

The axe shattered. Pieces of it skittered across the table as the Dwarf was thrown back from the force. And yet the Ring was unharmed.

Elrond watched curiously as the dwarf grumbled his way back to his seat. "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came!" He said gravely. "One of you must do this,"

Svellevarina tapped a silver claw against the stone ground where she lay. "Surely my rider and I could bring this Ring to the mountain. My speed in the air and our combined strength is unmatched,"

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir answered. "It's Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is an evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly,"

The same blond elf shot up from his chair. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" The dwarf, Gimli, demanded.

The forced tension returned to the air but was accompanied this time with a dark and quiet whisper. Svell cocked her head as she detected it, her wings tensing. I quickly cast a spell to protect her from the influence of this energy.

"And if we fall," Boromir added, "what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

Gimli stood to better address the elf. "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!"

The rest of the Elvish company stood, shouting in defense of their people and the Dwarves were quick to answer with their own shouts.

The whispers grew stronger.

Gandalf stood to address the group of men that had now attempted to get involved in the argument. I turned to Frodo, who had shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I extended my spell to him as well and saw him relax ever so slightly as I did.

"The last thing we need is another dragon to lay waste to our lands and destroy our people!" A dwarf shouted in Svellevarina's direction. She snarled slightly, exposing a few fangs.

"It has an elf under its control, no less!" A man added.

"I assure you, I am under no one's control but my own," I replied.

I heard Gimli scoff as he rested a hand on the shoulder of the dwarf that addressed us. "There are no words from an elf that I can trust,"

I raised an eyebrow. "I would not be present, Master Dwarf, if my dragon and I were untrustworthy,"

"Vilansia, these are petty arguments brought on by the evil energy that surrounds us. It does no good to engage in any of it," Svellevarina said to me.

I rested a hand on a part of her wing that rested against my chair. "It would seem that I need to adjust to this type of magic,"

As the bickering escalated, Frodo shifted in his seat once more until he stood in front of it. "I will take it!" he yelled to the group. "I will take it!" The arguing ceased at the sound of his shouts. The company turned to take in the Hobbit. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though, I do not know the way,"

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," Gandalf said to him with a gentle pat on his shoulder. "As long as it is yours to bear,"

The man dressed in dark leather, who I recalled was named Aragorn, looked to him. "If in my life, or death, I can protect you, I will." He knelt in front of Frodo. "You have my sword." The man then stood next to the Hobbit.

"And you have my bow," the blond elf stated, coming to stand with the forming group.

"And my axe!" Gimli added.

I moved from my seat to crouch in front of Frodo, gently taking his hands in my own. "You have our oath, as dragon and rider, that we shall always defend you on this journey, Frodo,"

Svellevarina stood on all fours, her head high. "As long as there is wind under my wings and fire in my breath, there shall be nothing that will stand in the way of the destruction of the One Ring,"

His face was full of uncertainty, his blue eyes wide as he looked between me and Svell. I squeezed his hands gently as I let a calm energy wash over him. I went to join the group, standing next to the male elf. Svellevarina stood behind the rest of us.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," Boromir said as he joined us. "If this indeed is the rule of the council, then Gondor will see it done,"

The bushes behind us rustled with movement. As he shouted, the Hobbit Sam ran out from behind the bush, stopping once he reached Frodo's side. He crossed his arms firmly across his chest. "Mr. Frodo isn't going anywhere without me,"

"No," Lord Elrond said, his eyebrows raised. "Indeed it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not,"

"Oi!" Another voice shouted. "We're coming, too!" Merry and Pippin shot out from their hiding places and joined the other two Hobbits. "You would have to tie us up in a sack to stop us,"

"Anyway," Pippin added, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing."

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry said to him.

There was a moment of silence now, as Lord Elrond gazed upon the group. "Eleven companions." He folded his hands in front of him. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Great. Where are we going?" Pippin inquired.

Svellevarina rustled her wings as she waited for me to finish securing the saddlebags. The two of us were at the entrance of Rivendell where the rest of the company were to join us once they had finished gathering their belongings. There was an unfamiliar feeling resting in my chest as I leaned against Svell's foreleg. It was indeed exciting to be a part of something so incredibly important. But I was unfamiliar with this land and its people and I knew better than to trust them outright. That said, Svell and I were to be partaking on a long journey with them. To not trust them in any capacity would lead to unhealthy tension and conflict.

I closed my eyes, breathing deep. I focused my energy as Eragon-vodhr had taught me many years ago. Life pulsed around me, and I allowed my mind to brush past it all, recognizing its presence gently before moving on to the next. With a final inhale I found my centre, bringing peace and calm back to my mind. released my breath and opened my eyes, blinking a few times as they adjusted to the bright sun.

"Do not worry, my rider," Svell encouraged. She nudged my shoulder with a low hum. "There is nothing that we cannot face together,"

I reached back to scratch the scales on her jaw. "Oh, how lucky I am to have you, Svell,"

"And I, you,"

I turned my gaze to the sound of voices approaching. The four Hobbits made their way over, Gandalf and the man named Aragorn walking just being them.

Gandalf tipped the brim of his pointed hat towards Svell and I. "Greetings, dragon and rider," he gestured to the man beside him. "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn,"

The man bowed his head. "It is an honor,"

"Kvetha, Aragorn. I am Vilansia of Alagaesia and this is Svellevarina," I introduced. My dragon dipped her head in greeting.

Pippin peered intently at the saddle on Svell's back. "Do they make them small enough for Hobbits?"

Svellevarina cocked her head. "There are riders in training that are children. So, yes,"

He grinned, eyes wide as he looked to Merry. The other Hobbit shook his head, but Pippin carried on anyways. "Do you think I could try?"

Samwise's mouth dropped open as Merry crossed his arms. The others were smiling at Pippin's innocent excitement.

I raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at my lips. "You are asking to ride my dragon?" Pippin took my question to mean that I was offended, and faltered slightly. "What do you think of the matter, Svellevarina?"

She lowered her head to face Pippin. "It would be my pleasure, little Hobbit,"

Pippin let out a shout of glee as he ran over to Svell's side. Upon realizing that he could not reach her back by himself, he glanced back to the rest of us. I made my way over and assisted the Halfling up onto the saddle, climbing onto Svell's leg and lifting him up the rest of the way so that he could clamber on. I talked him through how to secure himself in the saddle as best he could. The straps were not as tight as I would have liked, his small legs not even reaching halfway on the side of the saddle. I urged Svell to fly slow and low to the ground.

The rest of the Fellowship joined us just as Svell stood up with the Hobbit on her back. A smile broke out on my face at the sight. This would be something I would have to share with Murtagh and Thorn, for I doubt they would believe such a story. It was incredibly rare for anyone besides a dragon's rider to be placed on their back, and to be allowed to do so was considered the highest honor. Svellevarina, however, rarely followed normal conventions. The image within itself was amusing, though, as the small Hobbit could be barely seen on my dragon's back.

"You all have been entrusted with the fate of Middle Earth," Lord Elrond said to us. "You would do well to ensure the secrecy of your mission. We simply cannot allow the Ring to fall into the wrong hands." He paused. "I wish you good fortune," Elrond raised a hand, his palm flat, facing us to wish us farewell. Gandalf thumped his wooden staff on the stone floor before taking the lead, Frodo and Sam staying close to him. Svellevarina spread her wings, Pippin crying out as she crouched and jumped into the air, swooping over the group. His cheers lifted our spirits despite the daunting reality of what we were all embarking on. I took my place at the very back of the group, walking with Merry and Aragorn. I glanced behind me, taking in the view of Rivendell for what I assumed to be the last time. It held the same warm, golden hue now in the daytime as it did at night. Soft music reached my ears, and while I did not understand the lyrics, the feeling was undeniable: they were wishing us farewell. Gandalf led us through a passage in the mountainside that surrounded Rivendell, blocking my view of the Elvish city. I lifted my chin as I gazed forward. Now was the time for strength and serenity.

_____

Translations from the Ancient Language:

-vodhr - honorific praise for a man

Kvetha - Greetings

______

next chapter

[siimjaeyun]

Chapter 8: Family Troubles 

Synopsis: When two beasts appear in Seoul, destroying buildings and businesses, it might just teach your mystery-solving group a thing or two about relationships, both friendly and family ones. 

Series Masterlist 

------- 

“I must say Mayor Lee, it was a great idea to open a Tiki Place here in Seoul.” Chief Kim commented while sipping on the drink held in his hand. 

“Anything for Seoul, and I also applaud you for keeping Seoul criminal free.” 

The two men brought their glasses together in a celebratory manner; they sat back comfortably in their seats as they applauded the singer who was on stage performing. 

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight, I hope you all had fun.” The female singer bowed down slightly, and a shriek escaped from the guests. She turned and met a giant furry body. The green giant hurled a table to the roof of the restaurant, and proceeded to destroy the surrounding places like the tables and stage. 

“Just wonderful.” 

------- 

“Uh...did I do something wrong?” Heeseung peered through the mirror at the friends who were caught up in avoiding each other's glares. 

“Jungwon is upset because Sunoo and Niki went to see a movie without him. Then, Jay and y/n got into a fight last night.” Sunghoon summarized it lighty and yes he was right. 

Let’s start with the younger trio shall we. Niki, who had recently moved and joined their friend group, had been warmly welcomed by the duo Sunoo and Jungwon, two tight knit members who were pulled into mysteries by their older friends in middle school. It just so happened that Niki who was the youngest, became so loved by both Jungwon and Sunoo, as well as everyone else. Jungwon was just upset that they couldn’t hang out the three of them instead of choosing partners in their new friend trio. 

Now as for you and Jay, that's a lot messier. It all started with your parents coming into the living room and telling Jay that he was prohibited from solving mysteries which to him was unfair considering his twin sister, aka you, were allowed to. Which ended in a battle of jealousy and reliving past trauma. 

“Well, maybe a mystery will cheer us up. There was an attack at the Tiki restaurant last night.” Heeseung pulled over, and parked the van near the now shredded sight. An awkward pause settled in and it remained when Sunghoon, Jake, and Heeseung were left staring at their other five friends who kept looking at each other. 

Eventually, they got off the van as well. They split, searching for clues and witnessing a man in a blue suit who appeared to be the owner of the construction place. 

“Been earning good money I tell you. Sham’s Construction is gonna have to thank these beasts.” The man cackled and introduced himself as Mr.Sham to you. 

“At least we know someone is happy.” You whispered sarcastically into Jake’s ear. You went off with Jake, and kept taking photographs of the site, trying to find inconsistencies. 

“Chief Kim, do you know what happened?” 

“This green giant, who I have decided to call a Humungonaut, came and destroyed the place. You should have seen the damn beast. Powerful.” 

“At least there’s only one of them.” Ah, yes, bad luck was definitely in your favor today, seeing as a red colored beast surged from the hair salon on the other block. It picked up a car and flinged it towards the site of rubble from the Tiki place. 

“Nice going Jay.” 

“Me? Please, save your breath will you sissy.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t know I wasn’t worthy of being in the same area of the great mighty Jay Park.” 

“That’s enough of the both of you.” Sunghoon gave you two a stern look before forcing you into the opposite directions. 

“We need to focus on the task here. Be mindful of others guys.” Sunoo tried convincing his friends before Jungwon came up with his own thoughts. 

“Now you want to be mindful of others? Must have been good thinking considering you didn’t bother to invite me to your little hangout huh!” Now it was the trio’s turn to start bickering which led to Heeseung dragging them down to his home. 

-------

“We need an intervention. We’re not gonna get anywhere if they keep fighting.” Jake sat on the chair with his head resting on the table, before an idea came into his head. 

“How about we do an intervention?” 

“Like therapy?” The ring of the doorbell intervened in their conversation and Heeseung happily opened the door for Chief Kim who appeared alongside materials for a BBQ. 

“I knew we’d need help so I called Chief Kim.” 

Clearly, Heeseung was not accurate in seeking the help of Chief Kim, seeing as his only response and solution to your friend issues was, “Maybe you should leave town and go your own ways.” 

“The problem here is Sunoo! How dare you hang out with Niki without me!?” 

“Because you don’t like horror movies!” 

“The real problem here is spelled J-A-Y P-A-R-K who clearly doesn’t believe in his sister!” 

“Not everything is about you y/n!” 

Another fight broke out in their session which left Heeseung to drop a giant box onto the table to cut their unfriendly conversation. 

“How about we use this pent up anger on I don’t know catching two monsters,” he opened the box and gave each member a suit, “this is our new uniform. Hurry before I grab each of you by the ear.” 

All of you looked at the uniforms, a dissatisfaction growing on your faces. The white tracksuits were clearly not what you imagined to be Heeseung’s quick solution to your problems . 

You arrived at another place that had been attacked, and while all of you appreciated and loved Heeseung with your full hearts, you weren’t a fan of the uniforms. In fact, the moment the team arrived, you all lowered your heads while you investigated the scene. 

“Tsk, look who’s here.” Sunghoon nudged you with his elbow and you looked at Mr.Sham who arrived with a giant truck carrying away the rubble that remained. 

------ 

Two signs hung on the side of the road: Bobby Minner Insurance, and right next to it Robby Minner Insurance. 

“Is trespassing a construction site really the only answer?” Heeseung ignored Sunoo’s worries and used his bolt cutters to lift the lock up. 

“Hurry before we get caught.” All of you split into teams, different ones of course. Your petty fights resulted in avoiding each other at all costs. 

Without a warning, one of the beasts appeared once more and Mr.Sham was seen running away from his office building as he managed to escape the explosives that were set from afar. 

All of you made your walks in a zigzag pattern, and crashed onto the side of the road with Mr.Sham falling afterwards with you. 

“Guess Mr.Sham isn’t the humungonaut.” Jay let out an awkward chuckle before Mr.Sham turned his head to glare at him, but later joined in witnessing how his business had been consumed in flames. 

------- 

“Looking for insurance? Well, Bobby Minner is the best place to be..” The ad played in the background before a defeated sigh left the mouth of the teen’s in the van. 

“This leaves us back at zero.” They crossed their arms and bolted up when the radio began to play a static sound and a voice was heard on the radio. 

“Why..hello Mystery Co…” It was JK. 

“Since you guys seem to have some hard time figuring this out, let me give you a riddle. Open your ears, and you’ll head the answer. Open your eyes, and pay attention to the signs. The solution will be ensured. Later kids.” 

The static once more took over, and the original sound of the radio played again, “Robby Minner’s insurance is the way to go.” 

“You know, it would be nice if he just told us the clues straightforwardly.” Niki commented as he rested his head on the seat. 

-------

“Dad, come on, this humungonaut is a threat.” Heeseung argued with his father and Chief Kim, who honestly speaking, could care less about his worries. 

“We will do something. Chief.” Chief Kim strolled over to the center of the room, setting up his presentation with a portrait. 

“Your solution is a bowl of salad?” Sunoo asked sarcastically while staring at the misdrawn image in front of him. 

“No! We’re planning to host a humungonaut event: people pay to see them destroy things. Perfect business.” 

Clearly, the money and tourism seemed to be the priority. 

“This is the best idea, people pay money to see the monster get caught in our trap.” A shocked expression fell upon Heeseung’s face before he slammed his hands on his father’s desk. 

“A trap! You’re building a trap without me!? My own father!?” He slightly quivered his lips before hanging his head low as he exited the room. Poor boy had just been heartbroken. 

“You’ll get over it,” Mayor Lee stopped mid-way as he finally took in the uniforms on your bodies, “Are you guys going to a costume party?” 

Just when it was time for you to leave, all of you responded with a hard “no,” not bothering to explain that it was Heeseung’s idea too. 

“That sucks, because you look ridiculous.” 

------- 

“They’re so stupid, they’re clearly amateurs.” Jake and Sunghoon turned their heads from the computer screen and looked at their oldest friend who was busy using his binoculars to observe the traps set in the stadium. 

“GO RED!” “GO GREEN!” In the meantime, Jungwon and Sunoo began swinging at each other with their foam fingers, hurting their other friend Niki in the process. 

“Anyway, what have you managed to find?” Both you and Jay looked at the duo who seemed puzzled at the sight and map on their screen. 

“Hmm...there’s no clear pattern, but they only attack certain sites and businesses. This humungonaut really is confusing.” Jake responded, slightly leaning towards you. 

“It’s even more confusing than JK’s riddles.” Jungwon commented, which left Jake to enter into an aha moment. 

“You’re a genius Jungwon. Come on, the humungonaut won’t be here.” Jake took your hand and helped you out of the seats as the other followed behind, leading you to the final destination for these humungonauts. 

------- 

“Got the plan? When the humungonauts appear, you use the pulley to get them, got it?” The younger trio nodded their heads and took their positions. 

It wasn’t long before the humungonauts appeared at the boat warehouse: a place where Jake had led all of you as well. 

When the two beats caught sight of each other, they immediately grabbed each other by the necks. Their large size caused the floor under you to shake violently, and they broke through a couple boats before finally rolling into the small pool of water inside a building. 

“Pull!” The net pulled them upward and the two beats collapsed tiredly onto each other in the buddle of the net. 

“It worked?” Sunghoon was surprised that his trap worked so efficiently the first time given their long history. 

“Good thing those tickets were non-refundable.” Mayor Lee and Chief Kim came walking towards them and were startled by the beasts. 

“Your trap actually worked?” 

“Hey, don’t act too surprised.” Heeseung crossed his arms and saw as Jake pulled a staircase towards the two giants. 

“Hello creatures, I would like to welcome you to our humble earth planet.” Chief Kim began his long-winded speech before Jake finally managed to reach the top. 

“Sorry to disappoint Chief Kim, but these are no monsters at all. It’s Robby and Bobby Minner.” He pulled on the masks and the Minner twins were right underneath. 

“But how did you know Jake?” 

“Remember JK’s riddle, I just had to place these businesses under each of their insurances.” The rest of you looked confused, and settled your sights on the brothers who were peaking through the mesh. 

“That’s right. Our rivalry began since our circus days as strong men. We were always a duo, but one day he just left the team and joined a rival circus. Who would have known we would join the insurance business? We used the costumes to destroy each other’s business and get revenge.” Robby Minner gave a pause before his brother looked at him, “and we would have would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for my meddling brother!” The twins yelled the phrase at the same time before fighting with each other again. Chief Kim and others had arrived to take them away. 

“Guys, that was great team work!” Heeseung exclaimed happily before you all looked at each other. 

“Sunoo, we’re sorry we didn’t invite you. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

“I’m sorry too.” Sunoo and Jungwon joined each other into a hug before welcoming Niki to join. 

You sighed and looked at Jay. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. Seeing those twins really made me think that I don’t want to hate or resent you in a few years. Sometimes I get jealous of how perfect you are, but it doesn’t give me a right to be mean with you.” 

“No, I’m also sorry. Truth is, I’m jealous that mom and dad give you so much freedom, and you still do well in school. I guess the stress got to me, and I’m sorry for putting you in a situation like that.” Now it was your turn to give Jay a hug. 

“I’m so glad this is settled, see? All we need is our strong bond.” Heeseung smiled warmly at his friends before Sunghoon lifted one of his eyebrows. 

“Does this mean we also don’t need uniforms?” 

“I guess not.” Heeseung did not even complete his sentence before seeing as his friends took off the tracksuits and tossed them into the van. 

“We love you Heeseung, but maybe we should just keep the name of Mystery Co.” You comforted him and all of you took a seat by the deck. The stars glistened in the dark, and it left you to enjoy the peaceful moment with the people you loved the most. 

-------- 

Next- Chapter 9: Vampires and Prison Visits 

Tag List: @softkons @nikisboxysmile

(send an ask to join the taglist!) 

[teroknope]

hi!!!! could i request a Hux x reader where hux actually does leave with reader and the falcon? thanks bruv ugh they did hux dirty in ros 😔😔😔

AN: Anon, they did do our boy dirty. It’s been a while since I wrote anything so let’s see if I can actually still do it. I’m gonna throw it under a read more as it’s quite long. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting!  Rise of Skywalker Spoilers in here…

WC: 2.9K

“We have a spy in our ranks,” Ren announced before aggressively slamming the severed head onto the black pristine surface. The clear verdant blood seeping from the jagged neck wound.

All members of The First Order High Command exchanged uncomfortable glances, yourself included. You sat to the right of Allegiant General Pryde, a vicious man with ice-cold eyes and eerily pale skin.

“This spy sent a message to The Resistance”. Ren continued, striding across the room “whoever this traitor is won’t stop us.”

General Hux and General Pryde shared an uncomfortable stare. It was common knowledge that Enric Pryde dispised Armitage Hux. Most gossiped about Hux’s failure with Starkiller base. Older members of The First Order slyly whispered about Pryde’s close friendship with Brendol Hux, General Hux’s father. Although if you heard any of the officers whispering about this during there rest breaks, which you have, you were quick to silence them and threated them with expulsion through the nearest airlock.

No one would insult Armitage Hux, especially in front of you.

Pryde had been a threat to General Hux since Kylo Ren’s accession to Supreme Leader; Ren recruited Pryde due to the sheer amount of reserve forces he controlled. This also qualified him for being a member of The Supreme Council.

Kylo Ren’s ascension had brought nothing but misery into your life, as he brought in with him The Knights of Ren. You often overheard troopers dismissing them, describing them as brutal thugs and heathens. You wondered if their opinions were a bi-product of the child soldier programme which Hux maintained, perhaps they also gained Armitage’s sense of cleanliness. Hux loathed how they left constant trails of dirt on the Star Destroyer, marking the pristine floors of The First Order.

Abruptly, Ren stopped in his tracks. Standing a few inches away from your seat. Pulling you away from your vexed thoughts.

“You seem disconcerted Y/N, I can sense something playing on your mind…” Ren’s distorted voice uttered.

He was dangerously close to you. You took an inwards breathe, thinking you should have tried to hide your thoughts better. Ren continued “I suppose it has been some time since you have seen such a violent display. I know how you despise mess.”

Your alert eyes flickered to the dismembered head that was rotting on the table. He was not wrong, the rank of General meant you stayed safe in the fleet. Not out on the front, not in the dirt, blood and mud of war. You heavily disliked it being dragged into your work.

You knew he liked to play with you, as he knew of your feelings for Armitage.

You slyly responded, “No Supreme Leader, all is well”.

“All is well?” Ren sharply plucked

Krift, should not have said it like that.

Armitage was peering at you, worryingly. He knew you had made a mistake. You dare not even look at Pryde, who was no doubt questioning your obedience to The First Order.

“Even with a spy within our ranks, you think all is well…” Ren lumbered closer to you, one imposing step at a time, hovering over your chair. “Tell me, Y/N. Judging by what you just said, your fellow council members could start to believe that you are our leak…”

Ren sharply lifted his heavy hand, it was inches away from your face. You inhaled deeply as a sharp sensation penetrated your head; the other members of the council averting their attention from yourself and Ren, desperately seeking something else in the hollow chamber to focus on.

Your cold hands clawed at your pressed grey trousers as Ren invaded your mind. It felt like someone was pulling a rope against your skin, Tightening, twisting and burning.

Armitage noticed your straining, your composure giving away the sheer amount of pain you were in. Your normally relaxed shoulders were as stiff as ice, you breathing jagged and your eyes full of fear.

He knew you could not fight Ren’s ways. None of you in that room had the strength to do so. The worst part was, Hux knew he was toying with you. To get to him. 

Ren was petty like that.

“Supreme Leader I can assure you, that I am not the spy” You strained, the pressure in your head increased sharply.

Your voice was hoarse, “I spoke out of term I apologize greatly, Supreme Leader.”

Ren redacted his hand, finding no useful information within you. The pain, the pressure, it vanished instantly. You unclenched your hands from your trousers, one of your hands gripping the table for support. You could feel the cold sweat patterning the back of your neck. You dare not look up at the man who was still ominously glaring over you. 

Ren loudly sauntered to the front of the table, facing away from the high command. The other members of the council turned their attention to him, except for yourself who was still attempting to maintain some sort of composure.

“The First Order is about to become a true empire…” Ren turned his head ever so slightly, sensing another disturbance “I sense unease, about my appearance. General Hux.”

Hux’s eyes were initially glued to you, he could feel the anger building inside of him. Until Ren spoke his name, his eyes hastily turned to face Ren.

His voice was highly strung, but he maintained his composure “About the mask? No sir, well done.”

Once another officer began to speak. Hux’s green eyes returned to you. For the briefest of seconds, your eyes met. Your thoughts were aligned.

You had both had enough, of Kylo Ren.

…..

“I wish he never came to The First Order.” You scoffed, throwing yourself down into the ice blue sofa. You dragged off your leather gloves, tossing them on the sofa and beginning to rub your eyes, noticing how cold and dry your skin was.

Hux scoffed, pacing himself over to the metallic counter in his cramped kitchen space. “which one?”

“Both of the bastards” You leaned into the sofa, taking a small exhale. Your head still thumped from Ren, like an annoying headache. “They just undermine us and Pryde’s comment about Starkiller?”

Armitage secretly smiled, he adored how much you defended him. No, how much you wanted to defend him. He Held two mugs of Tarine tea, the warmth seeping through his gloves onto his slim palms. 

Walking over, Armitage handed you one of the mugs. It’s warm cascading through your skin, A welcoming feeling from the cold sweat you felt earlier.  

“At least Starkiller actually did some damage.” You took a small sip of the tea, feeling the warmth spread throughout your chilly body.

Armitage placed himself down next to you; you both only had a short break during your unbearably long shifts. Often, you spent it together. Most times it was to vent about Ren,

Hux Slyly spoke, “I’m glad someone appreciates my work,” taking a sip of the peppery tea.

“Something is on your mind.” You observed, noticing that Armitage seemed more stern than usual. He would often relax his composure when it was just the two of you, but even now he was unusually uptight in his mannerisms. “I don’t think it’s because of Ren, unfortunately, we are both used to his methods”.

Softly, you looked at Armitage. His eyes narrowly avoiding yours. His were redder than usual, cheeks hollower than usual. 

“You can tell me, you know” You warmly reassured him, “You know nothing spoken in your quarters leaves these quarters”.

He knew that to be true, you had never called him Armitage outside of these doors. You both maintained your professionalism outside of this chamber, where you could just be together. He appreciated that. Trust was very important to Armitage Hux, and it was something you had continued to show him.

“Look, Y/N. I’m just going to come out with it.” He loudly spoke, turning to face you. Then, he quietened his voice  “I’m the leak.”

You could not help but let out a small hearty chuckle; Armitage’s face was full of confusion, and annoyance.

Taking another sip from the warm tea you heartily replied; “Armitage, don’t make jokes like that. You’ll be executed on the spot.”

 Placing the tea on the glass table you continued “Actually, I will as well for collaborati-” Your chuckle disappeared into a serious expression as you returned your gaze to him.

His expression did not change, it was deadly serious. Your expression turned to one of confusion, but you remained calm. Logic started to follow through in your mind.

He never joked, especially about First Order matters. He was telling the truth.

“Since when- What… how?” You couldn’t speak straight, a million questions invading your mind.

But inside, you knew he was telling the truth. He had no reason to lie to you.

The ascension of Ren to the title of Supreme Leader. The appointment of Allegiant General Pryde. Ever since it has been a nightmare for the two of you.

“Well, kriff,” You uttered, he could see the panic envelop your body; you rose from the comfortable sofa. A bit too quickly, finding yourself slightly dizzy. “What are we going to do?”

“We?” He peered at you with sharp emerald eyes. “There is no we in this Y/N, just me and my actions.”

Armitage rose to his feet, standing centimetres from you. Towering over you. He placed his hands onto the side of your shoulders, they were warm.

“But what will you do? Armitage. They will find out.”. You panicked. You knew it would be sooner rather than later as well. “There must be something I ca-”

He would not let you finish. “I will not have you privy to this Y/N, you had no part in this” He firmly spoke.

“But I will not stand too and watch you become beaten, Armitage,” You could feel the emotion tightening in your cheeks, making its way up to your eyes. The tears swelling “Not after how he has treated you, they are not taking you away, not from me, or this world”

Intrusive thoughts often seep through your mind, How defeated he looked once Ren took the title of Supreme Leader. Too often he has returned to your quarters with rough, blotched purple bruising circulating his pale neck. His bloody cut lips, cracked nose, and body scattered with lumps and bruises from Snoke’s and Ren’s abuse.

Not to mention the abuse he endured as a child, something you dread to think about.

Thinking of these moments were your weakness; failing to stop any tears falling down your cold cheeks. He wiped them away with a stroke of his hand, you leaned into his hand, placing your own over it and planting a gentle kiss onto the palm.

“I should be so lucky to have someone like you cry for someone like me.” He faintly whispered, before planting a short warm kiss onto your lips “I do not deserve your kindness.”

…

Before you knew it, the ship had descended into chaos. Words of an unknown ship docking in Hangar Bay 12. Followed by the spreading news that three resistance members had come to rescue there captured friend.

Time was running out, you knew it. But you had to keep composure, keep in the moment. It was vital for your survival, and his.

Your mind focused back on the task at hand, which was escorting the three Resistance scum there execution. The ancient Wookie, the ex-stormtrooper, FN-2187 and Commander Dameron.

Hux, yourself and three stormtroopers lead the prisoners to a dark room inside the Star Destroyer. it had an overwhelming metallic smell and was uncomfortably warm. The three prisoners stood in the middle of the room; a trooper each parallel to their position.

You positioned yourself to the side of the door, you danced your fingers over the control panel; sealing the door tightly shut. The room becoming ever so darker.

“Actually,” Armitage spoke. “I’d like to do this myself.”

The trooper turned his head, hesitantly handing the General his blaster. The resistance members continued to bicker amongst themselves; ignoring the sound of the charging blaster. 

You wanted to close your eyes, but you kept them open. If they found out you avoided the execution you would be sent to re-evaluation, something you did not desire.

Armitage faced the resistance scum, the blaster was charged.

As quick as a blink, Hux turned his body, facing the troopers. You drew your hidden blaster. it was coated in a dark black resin.

As if you were synced, Hux burst a shot at the trooper that handed him the blaster, a poor decision by them. The other two troopers were distracted by their General to notice you. 

You did not hesitate, firing your blaster into the trooper on the end, they crashed to there knees, body collapsing on the floor. Armitage finished off the middle one, who collapsed on top of his fellow troopers.

The Resistance members darted around to face you both, Eyes darted between yourself and Hux.

“What are you doing?” Hux demanded an answer, his voice loud.

“I told you we’re in this together” You reassured him, putting away your blaster into its holder. “We don’t have time to be talking,” 

“Right, well them” Hux turned to face The Resistance scum.  I’m the spy” 

….

The Resistance members were released from there metal handcuffs, you all darted towards the end goal; The Millenium Falcon. Hux skirted ahead, skidding on the clean metallic floor over to the control panel. You took a position on the opposite side of the door, blaster, tightly in hand. Although you hoped no one would be heading in this direction.

“You have seconds” He bellowed “Take her too”

“General, where you go, I go” You asserted loudly, turning to face the ex-stormtrooper “Take us with you,” 

“What?” Finn exhaled “Why would we take you.” He darted his eyes towards Armitage

You contained your anger and began to speak calmly “Just let us board your vessel, once we reach the nearest station you can chuck us out. We won’t contact you ever again or mention your names. I can give you credit-” You pleated, still placing yourself in front of the man you loved.

“After all you have you done, why would we help you,” Dameron interjected, a scowl on his face. “We don’t want your blood credits”

“All Credits are blood credits in this war Commander” You snapped back at the commander. “Just because you’re on a different side does not mean there is no blood on your hands”

Dameron ground his teeth, his eyes full of hate. “You honestly think we’re going to-”

You had had enough, of all the games. You raised your blaster, aiming it at FN-2187. You let out a small blast, to the side of his left foot. He could feel the sparks from the floor hit against his leg.

“If you do not let us out. I will close down the access to the falcon and you will die on this ship”. You ordered, “Either we escape or we all die, your move Commander Dameron.”

“We don’t have time for this, once we hit the nearest port we throw you out.” Dameron angrily ordered “Come on, Finn"

Finn shot an angry look at you before following Dameron. You began to follow the metal path to the Falcon, entering through the doorway. But Hux was still standing in the doorway.

“Armitage,” You spoke, “Let’s go.”

“I cant. Y/N” Armitage interrupted, “My entire life’s work is here, I cannot abandon it i-”

“Armitage, please listen to me” You trudged up the path, taking his gloved hand, squeezing it hard. “The First Order now is not what it was, if you stay you won’t survive”

“Y/N” His voice hesitated “… I will be fine” 

He was lying.

he was either going to be executed or face Ren’s wrath. 

Trudging closer to him, the nervousness pilling in your stomach. Dejected, you spoke “No, you won’t” 

Your hand met his cheek, rubbing your thumb over it gently. “Do you think Pryde will believe that three handcuffed, armless individuals beat three troopers? Happening to leave the man who destroys Hosian Prime alive?”

You could see the doubt beginning to well in his eyes; his arms remaining firmly at his sides. He did not want to leave his life’s work behind. Trudging into the unknown, where he was no-one. His feet were still stuck on the pristine black tiles that defied his very life.

“Armitage,” You interrupted his train of thought, his green eyes turned to face you. He focused on the warmth from your hand that rested on his sharp cheek. For the first time in his life, he saw something other than The First Order. Something other than instructions, uniforms and war.

You were afraid he was going to stay, that you were never going to see him again. Ignoring protocol, you assertively kissed the General, his lips were smooth, warm and soft. You could feel him move his lips against yours, returning the kiss. “Please,”

“It’s now or never,” Poe interjected, shouting from the landing panel. “Or we leave you behind”.

You felt his hand grip yours,  you could feel him shaking ever so slightly. Armitage put one foot in front of the other, the conditioned air hitting against his gelled back hair as he stepped through the white hangar door, your hand tightly in his. As long as he had you beside him, he knew he would survive.

[wincore]

archenemies | huang renjun

pairing: renjun x reader

words: 8.8k

genre: ‘bad boy’!au, fluff

warnings: language, some juvenile activities, huang “fight me” renjun, he’s way too aries for this to be good

a/n: move aside it’s my emotional support bad boy fic

There are people who are lucky and people who have met Huang Renjun. 

Every day is a reminder of all your mistakes, all the sins you’ve committed to have to deal with him. You’ve forgotten what began all the biting comments and burning quarrels, but you’re not going to lose to some quick-tempered punk. In all honesty, however, you’d prefer to never think of him again.

Huang Renjun is just a cog in the machine that controls your life and you’re going to best ignore him till someone upstairs decides to fix that machine. (You wish it were that easy.)

You eye the bruise on your knee with a sour taste in your mouth. It’s a darker shade of purple now, the blues mingling amidst only enhancing the size of it. You sigh heavily and crouch to retie your shoelaces. You’re going to have to slow down now, and not jump over the steps of a ragged staircase. There are few reasons to pass through the playground, when you can take a safer albeit longer way to the subway station.

It’s the shorter way, yes, but there’s more. Is it because of the lack of overenthusiastic students and the loud buzz? Is it because you can walk down the thick metal railing feeling free, arms stretched? Or perhaps, the most important of all—the illegal murals on the walls starting from your school. The art gets removed every time and not two weeks later, there’s a new one. If anything’s more cheerful in colour in this city, you’d gladly pay a pretty penny to see it.

You stand in front of the latest in the collection, eyes studying every stroke of paint. It’s a wolf, made with different colours of the rainbow and with a star gently held in its mouth. You swear its eyes move with the way they stare back at you, deep and alive. You wonder what this criminal artist sees in their head to create things so raw, so full of feeling. You’re always sad when they get painted over.

You take a picture of it on your phone to remember. Your first picture dates to about two years ago, when you accidentally stumbled into the backside of the school buildings. It was the mural of a trophy, more specifically the one your school awarded for academics each year. Except the trophy was made of branches intertwined far too loose and it held a rotting apple instead of a live golden one, greens faded to brown. The single piece of writing was in black—‘here lies our youth’. You had scoffed at it then. Undoubtedly, some sort of edgy loser had spilled ink on those walls. But you had to admit, the mural was unspeakably pretty and you took the picture for your own amusement.

The school, of course, had it removed at soon as they could but you still look at it on your phone once in a while. The look on your principal’s face was glorious when a new one showed up right beside the front gate. A withering rose with thorns made of silver, and a raccoon gazing at it with its head at a slight angle. It made no sense, of course. All of these have been abstract, almost hard to find meaning in but you felt a dash of impertinence in that piece of art. It was meant to piss them off.

And of course, the art continued blossoming. Over the months, they got better and better; every new piece held a different meaning. It became a sort of game for you, to find each work and photograph it before it was criticized by disgruntled police officers and hastily removed. Adults find no importance in these kinds of things; it’s too bright, too attention-seeking and too honest.

You tread carefully along the side of the street now, aware of your aching knee and curse yourself for being so frivolous in movement. Except you aren’t as careful as you think you are, and you bump rather harshly into a lean figure when you were looking elsewhere.

“Sorry! I really am,” the words tumble out of your mouth before you can recognize the boy. But when you do, you grimace, a familiar bitter taste on your tongue. “Renjun. Hi.”

Renjun glares at you as he massages the shoulder you had so carelessly rammed into. The white bones on his dark jacket sleeves and the skull on the back look painted, although you think Renjun couldn’t have made something remotely aesthetic. You await the biting comment he usually sends your way, but he quickly turns away after shooting you another scowl.

“Well, okay,” you tell yourself. “That’s new.”

If it wasn’t clear before, Huang Renjun isn’t the nicest of people you’ve met. With a flaring temper and sharp tongue, he’s on your list of people to avoid, but you cross paths quite literally way too many times. Of course, his entire group of friends is on your list of people to avoid, but it’s Renjun who seems to be fated to run into you every goddamn time. You’ve been assigned to do projects with him at least six times by some sort of treachery, and for all the years you’ve known him, his seat is almost always behind yours. It’s torturous, really. Renjun would be much more pleasant to face if he wasn’t glaring holes into the back of your head all the time.

You pull the vague memory of a shy new boy from middle school and shove it aside—no way can you relate the past and present. At school, he’s only a troubled student, not the type to sugar-coat words and with no restraint on words, he often pisses off people he shouldn’t be pissing off. Honesty is a good feature but not on people like him. Only the bravest of teachers take a liking to him, and the rest of the students are a little in awe of him. I wish I could be that honest, you’d heard one of your friends say. That way, I wouldn’t be afraid of the world. He was mistaken; there’s no one on earth born without fear. Needless to say, your peers like to romanticize him as some sort of cool, tough guy with mystery on his fingertips. You think he secretly likes the reputation. The only times Renjun’s softened is around his band of troublemakers.

You don’t trust reputations but you think Renjun is at least six times worse than what everyone thinks of him. (And you speak from experience.)

You have to admit, though, that you might be a little at fault here. You’ve accidentally spilled hydrochloric acid on him in the chemistry lab and smeared his neck with an obnoxious green in art before, but you don’t think that’s reason enough for Renjun to hate you. Regrettably, there are more cases of misfired actions and you’d rather not dwell on them.  

If luck has anything to do in the universe, it loves to mess with you when you’re around Renjun. It’s miraculously always him the victim, and you, an unwitting culprit. Bad luck doesn’t even begin to describe what has bound the two of you. At least, that’s how it began. It’s not like you’re trying to be annoying; the circumstances provide the paint for your already messy canvas and Renjun is left more and more pissed at you at the end of every encounter. You’d feel sorry for him if he weren’t such a prick.

The times you’re not accidentally messing with Renjun, he’s the one with offhanded comments that make your blood boil. You don’t know if it’s payback but it ends up with the two of you neck-deep in hatred for each other yet again. Sometimes, you enjoy the misery you unintentionally give him, like that one time the stray cat you were holding launched itself at Renjun and he ended up with more scratches than what was good (although, he isn’t exactly a stranger to injuries) and of course, the glorious times you were the cause of Renjun’s detention. Sometimes even those aren’t enough to shut his quick mouth and honestly, you’re giving up on ever having an actual conversation with him without being at each other’s throats.

You shake your head for thinking about him for this long. Any thought lasting longer than three minutes about Renjun is a curse.

“(name)!”

Chenle waves at you from a few metres away. It’s always good to see him and you smile; the kid’s a ball of positivity. It’s much better than running into Renjun anyway, for whom you’d have to grit your teeth and brace for another jab, trying not to start another bout of bickering with him. In fact, you find the contrast between Chenle (someone you’ve only ever talked with comfortably and an occasional angel) and Renjun (literally the Devil’s advocate) so sharp that you find it hard to believe they’re friends. The only thing they seem to have in common is living at the dorms, as non-native students.

“Hi!” Chenle greets you from a few feet away as he jogs up to you. “Have you seen Renjun?”

You furrow your eyebrows. You wonder why someone as nice as Chenle would follow around a mean grouch like Renjun.

“Yeah, I just passed him,” you answer, a little piqued by Chenle’s rapid flurry of expressions. Something’s obviously not right.

“Thanks,” he says with a slight bow before he takes off in the other direction.

Now, given your history of unfortunate circumstances with Renjun, you shouldn’t be following Chenle. You shouldn’t. But of course, you’d take this chance to snoop around on Renjun, just watch him speechless as he can’t come up with any response at all. Information, secrets—they give you the upper hand. You’re being petty, sure. It’s good for your health.

You follow the loud footsteps at a safe distance, starting to wonder if it’s worth it. You almost walk into Renjun’s view and scramble back behind the wall. He’s sitting on one of the swings while Chenle pants beside him, trying to catch his breath.

“I told you to stop following me around. You look like some lost puppy.” You hear Renjun click his tongue.

“You’re so mean,” Chenle says with a pout, “Wait, doesn’t that mean I’m cute? Like a puppy? Never mind, don’t you wanna know how far the investigation is going?”

“You don’t have to do that for me,” Renjun responds, looking down at his hands.

Chenle smiles, radiant as ever. “It’s no biggie!”

Renjun laughs, a sound foreign to you. “You’re acting like I said ‘thank you’.”

“Didn’t you?” Chenle grins. “Anyway, you have to be careful for the next week. They’re going to increase patrols near school.”

Renjun scoffs. “Like they’ll ever catch me.”

You narrow your eyes. From all the rumours you’ve heard, Renjun is no stranger to delinquency and other things illegal for high school students. But they’ve only been rumours. This is your chance to get some dirt on him, and you’re certainly not missing it.

Chenle presses his lips together, a flash of worry passing through him.

“Be careful anyway, okay?” he says.

Renjun snaps his head to the side, an annoyed sound leaving his lips. He looks nothing but bothered by the conversation.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

You let out a breath, annoyed with how ungrateful Renjun is. Of course, you don’t expect better from a no-good sociopath, or whatever the hell he pretends to be. You never realized how twisted your ties with Renjun has been this far. You can paint no other picture except of a demon every time you think of him.

“Now scram,” Renjun huffs.

Chenle looks like a kicked puppy and you almost march over to Renjun to reproach him. There is nothing he does that doesn’t get on your nerves. But you maintain your position; it’s not worth wasting your time over.

The twitch of your foot, however, brings you to the boys’ attention. You retreat your head and look forward, your body getting still. Half of you is terrified of Renjun finding you and the other half simply doesn’t care, in fact wanting to shove some choice words at him in case he does find you.

As fate would have it, Renjun emerges from behind the wall and you hit your head back against it. Your heartbeat evens out quick and you face him, not wanting to look stupid. He’s pissed off—you can tell by the knitted brows and bitter twist of his lips.

“I knew you were annoying but eavesdropping?” Renjun rebukes, “Congratulations on getting to a whole new level of weirdo.”

Your ears turn red and you click your tongue. “Whatever.”

“You should stop being so interested in me. Seriously.”

“Me? Interested in you? If anything, you’re the one way too interested in me.”

“I’m not the one eavesdropping.” Renjun stands up straighter, fists clenched. Your cheeks colour.

“And I’m not the one picking fights every day at lunch.”

Your hostilities aren’t unknown to the school, who look partly afraid and partly entertained with your jabs and arguments. You’ve figured they’re more afraid of Renjun and his cold face than they’re afraid of your fights. If only they didn’t think he’s cooler than he actually is. You could roll your eyes.

“You guys sound like children,” Chenle butts in.

“Don’t interrupt me,” Renjun scowls.

“Don’t talk to him that way,” you warn.

“And who are you to tell me that?”

“A decent human being.”

“God, talking to you drains me of energy.” Renjun turns his head to the side, his frown never leaving.

“Looking at you drains me of energy,” you grumble.

With one last look of repugnance, you turn around to make your way back to where you were headed in the first place.

“I don’t know why you hang out with him, Chenle,” you say before you start walking off.

You can see Renjun tense up out of the corner of your eye. For a moment, you think he’ll yell an insult back at you but only the gentle breeze fills your surroundings. You like having the last word, but no part of this exchange was satisfying. You should’ve just gone your way.

The conversation you overheard leaves your mind as quickly as it entered. Soon, you’re on the subway home with a larger basket of reasons to avoid Huang Renjun.

As if high school wasn’t dull enough, being unable to skip class makes your sleepless body worse. The can of coffee you got at the vending machine offers no aid, and when you finally blink at the silhouette of escape, you seize it. You’ve never thought of skipping class as explicitly bad. It’s not good but neither is it an awful thing to do considering the condition of the present-day education system. You’d call it a necessary evil.

At least, that’s the excuse you use for yourself every time. You’ve only been caught once, and that’s because you fell asleep under the bleachers. Detention isn’t new, but it doesn’t put you in good books. You care for your future, and the inconvenience you cause others (unlike some others you know). It’s just that there are certain habits that you can’t help.

You’ve decided to be more careful, of course. You don’t want your mother getting any more upset with you nor do you want to spend more time at school through detention. There’s a prettier world outside these drudging walls.

Somehow, you sneak your way out to the back of the school building. The painting has been removed long since you first saw it, but the place has a sense of mystery to it. You’re drawn in, an optimistic explorer to lands that call. You shake yourself to prevent your imagination from wandering.

The weeds grow unkempt here, in the narrow gaps between walls and there’s messy graffiti (vaguely phallic and highly inappropriate) here and there. It’s not pretty but it’s fun walking through here, better than dozing off in class anyway.

The clicking sound grabs your attention. The thought of anyone else being here doesn’t make you very comfortable, but what could they do? There’s no way they’d land you in trouble without facing the same fate. You shrug and take slow, daunting steps towards the source. You might as well figure out who’s there.

You peek out from behind the concrete wall, only able to see a figure in a dark blue hoodie. Only a moment later, though, your eyes inevitably trail to the artwork on the wall.

It’s half done—without an outline or final touches. The strokes of paint make up what looks like a dragon skeleton, its wings spread out and a hollow look in its eyes. Even so, it’s funny to find it smiling. What stands out, though, is the burst of colour it’s made of. And without any prompt, you know it’s him—the mystery juvenile artist of your town. Why did he have to paint it here, where most people would never see it?

You step out from behind the wall, forgetting your hideout. It’s not like you’ll ever give away this artist’s identity, the only person who has the guts to make this place colourful. You’re about to call out when he turns and you freeze, your face morphing into disbelief.

“It’s you?!” you exclaim. This has to be a joke—what on earth is going on?

Renjun yelps at your appearance, dropping the spray can as he stumbles backward. He stands there horrified, eyes wider than usual and mouth apart in a stagnant pose.

“You’re following me again!” Renjun seems to have found words.

“I’m not following you, you dimwit,” you snapped. “I just happened to be here.”

“At least make up something more elaborate.” He takes a step towards you, still standing on the raised concrete between the walls.

You glare at him. “It’s true. I don’t care what you’re up to. But you’re the guy who’s been making these?”

You point to the painted wall, not wanting to believe a demon made something beautiful.

“And what if I am?” he snarls and steps off onto the ground in front of you. You’d be afraid of the look on his face, but you’ve seen it often.

“I could report you,” you say, almost smiling. You’ve wanted to see him squirm for a long time now.

You turn heel and walk inside, but Renjun runs after you, stopping only when you turn.

“What?” you ask, your smile smug.

He grabs your arm hastily before he pushes you against the wall, his hand gripping your shoulder too tight. There’s no doubt he’s learnt how to intimidate people. There are streaks of blue and yellow on the web of his thumb and parts of his wrists. The corridor is silent without lingering students, almost eerie without the buzz.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone.” He’s looking at you intensely, almost frantic. Of course, holding secrets takes courage.

You laugh, and he furrows his eyebrows, his frown deepening.

“What are you going to give me in return?”

Renjun scowls. He’s about to answer when you’re interrupted by a rather shrill yet familiar voice.

“No making out in the hallways!” your history teacher scolds. “I can’t believe you’re skipping class for this. I would say detention but I’m in a good mood. Jesus Christ, I know you’re young but there’s a time and place for everything.”

He leaves, his grumbling fading out soon but the two of you are frozen. You can see the red that’s flushed Renjun’s skin and you wonder if you look the same. His eyes are wide, his hand still in place against your shoulder. In his haste, Renjun had left no space between the two of you; in fact, if he were to dip his head a little lower, he’d have his lips brushing against yours.

Your cheeks flare up at the thought and you shove Renjun off you.

“That was- we weren’t- that didn’t happen,” you say quickly, your voice a pitch higher.

“That didn’t happen,” Renjun agrees, still flustered, the pink bathing his face and neck.

There’s an awkward silence before Renjun speaks again, a warning tone lacing his words.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“You could add a ‘please’, at least.” The look on his face is way too enjoyable. You wait for him to realize you mean it and the look progresses into something even more fun.

“Don’t tell anyone…pl…uh, please.”

Renjun turns a few shades redder. Life just got far more splendid.

Renjun sighs enough times for Jaemin to take notice. The last thing he wants is for Jaemin to mother him but he needs some answer to his problem (you) too. He could kick the telephone pole beside him right now, but there’s no point in hurting himself. He slumps back against the wall.

“So did you finally ask (name) out? I heard rumours of you two…you know,” Jaemin grins, his tone more than teasing.

“Why the fuck would I ask (name) out?” Renjun tries his best to get his disgust across to Jaemin, though the warmth in his cheeks probably gives his embarrassment away.

“I mean, you’re always talking about them.”

“Because they make my life hell! And I’m not always talking about…them.”

Jaemin laughs and Renjun wants to kick him instead. Jeno breaks into a short laugh beside him but quickly recomposes himself at the glare Renjun sends his way. Have his friends always been this annoying? Donghyuck is thankfully absent and Yangyang’s probably hanging out at the bike garage. His friends like to add salt to cuts and wounds. And Renjun’s only used to the physical kind.

He sighs again, toning down the thoughts. If he thinks, he thinks of you and your ways of making him miserable. The smug look on your face had made Renjun want to set fire to something, preferably you.

“You guys don’t understand,” Renjun whines, “I literally got threatened to be reported to the police. By someone who hates me and will probably do it.”

Jaemin and Jeno exchange a look and it irks Renjun all the more.

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Jeno says, “Or that (name) will do it.”

“Just talk it out,” Jaemin adds.

That’s nice and all but Renjun thinks they’ve completely missed the point. He’s dealing with the root of all his miseries and he sees no easy solution to this. For all he knows, you could be a demon launched directly from hell to make him pay for his crimes. Renjun shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think that way.

“Whatever,” Renjun sighs, “I’ll figure it out.”

It’s easier to get to solutions when it’s other people’s problems.

Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows and Renjun shoves him playfully, a smile falling into place.

You raise an eyebrow. You made a face when Renjun approached you as you left school but now that he’s piqued your interest, you relax against the wall. There’s no one around at this time in the park.

“You’re really making a deal?” You grin, hoping it gets on Renjun’s nerves.

“Yes,” he responds through clenched teeth. “Just don’t say something too outrageous.”

You press your finger to your lips, squinting your eyes to think. Renjun taps his foot impatiently and you almost consider whacking him across the head to stop the noise. There is no way you’d ever get along with him.

“Be my date for prom.”

“What?!” Renjun sputters.

You burst into a fit of laughter; the look on his face is far more enjoyable than anything you’ve seen so far this year. You like Renjun owing you.

“I’m kidding. I don’t have anything in mind,” you say, “I’ll let you know when I do.”

Renjun groans, drooping his shoulders. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re awful?”

“Multiple people actu—wait, I’m awful?! You’re the one with mean comments, little graffiti man.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps. “You’ve been making me miserable ever since I came here—oh, don’t make that face, it’s true!”

You cross your arms and try ignoring Renjun’s look of disdain. After a moment of hesitation, you sigh.

“I never meant to,” you say, voice softer.

Renjun blanks out for a moment and you use it to get back to the dilemma at hand.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you clarify, “But…you have to show me how you make the murals.”

Renjun frowns. “I don’t like that.”

“The alternative is agreeing to do whatever I say whenever I want till either of us dies.”

Renjun throws his head back, a sigh escaping his lips. “Fine. I’ll take you to the next place I work on. You better keep your end of the deal.”

“Of course.”

You smile. As much as you hate to believe the one person you admired for their creations turned out to be a demon, you’re curious. You might as well make the most of this situation while it lasts.

You won’t admit you lost sleep on a Friday night because you were excited to see Renjun spray paint a wall. It’s almost embarrassing, considering the history you have with him but you can’t deny what’s standing so clear in front you. The art you’ve saved in your precious folder in your gallery, its secrets will be laid open soon.

“You know, I heard this place is haunted,” you hum.

Renjun freezes in his path, and you almost bump into him. He turns around with distress across his face, eyebrows knit together.

“Don’t say that,” he says a little too quickly.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re afraid of ghosts?”

“No,” he starts, “Yes. A little bit. Whatever. This place is not haunted.”

You giggle. You didn’t expect Renjun of all people to have that look on his face. You know he’s not a tough guy (or, you refused to acknowledge he could be) but wouldn’t the school love to see him like this. He’s always come off as a little detached, uncaring of the world around him and he’s got scratches and bruises on him like he really doesn’t care which fight he’s picking. Of course the school got to talking about him—the foreign student with a mean temper and a rare smile. (“It gives him a rare charm! His laugh sounds so dreamy…” You rolled your eyes at your friends. “No. He’s just mean. And says mean things. You know. Like a mean person.”)

No one comes into this part of the subway station at night. The line is closed off during these hours, and you wonder how Renjun found out the hidden entrance. It's not easy to search over unchanging walls. The tunnel lights barely work, but the warm glow shoos away any unnerving feeling to leave empty spaces. It’s strange to not see platforms bustling with people; this one offering painted seats and large advertisements to no one now.

“What’re you going to make today?” you ask, making sure to not fall behind.

“Something simple,” he responds, taking the cans out of his satchel. “Maybe a remake of Starry Night.”

That does not classify as simple in your books, but you shrug, taking a seat by one of the tunnel walls.

Watching Renjun work is far different from staring at final products. The way his hands move in a fluid motion, the way he sprays the lines and curves with precision, the way he fills out the spaces with colour—you wish you could record all of it too. The clicking of the cans every time he shakes them is oddly satisfying, so are the full colours that transform the wall. His focus is trained and you maintain your silence, not wanting to break the encased time. You want to say you’re impressed, say it’s breath-taking to watch what he’s doing. But words don’t come easy at the cost of pride.

You tilt your head to focus on the large bruise-like mark on his hand. You thought it was paint, then a bruise but you can’t quite figure it out.

“What’s that?” you ask, tapping your own hand.

“A birthmark.” Renjun pauses momentarily to answer before turning back to his work.

You wonder how you never noticed that before. It’s like a little nebula, fitting for a boy who paints the sky with such adoration.

You don’t know how long you’ve been there but when you check your watch, time’s almost over. A little less than an hour left, you notify Renjun.

You never realized the importance of finishing touches. Neither did you ever think you’d find Van Gogh on subway walls.

An overused painting but there are Renjun’s touches to it—small tweaks in the colour and shape. There are still whirling clouds, bright stars and a sweet crescent moon. The village, though dark, somewhat adds meaning to the comfort of the lights from the houses. You shouldn’t forget why something was painted, Renjun had remarked as you were making your way here. This Starry Night holds no mourning, however.

“It’s lovely,” you say, finally. “I can’t believe you made this in a subway tunnel.”

Renjun looks up from organizing the spray cans back into the satchel. There’s a faint glow across his cheeks and he turns back to his bag quickly. His voice is unsteady when he speaks. “Thanks.”

You take your time searching for an angle with enough lighting to photograph it. Renjun looks at you dubiously at first but he steps aside with an indecipherable expression, his lips twitching at the corners.

The footsteps catch your attention. You share a look with Renjun, a cautious one when they get closer and you immediately move to stand near him.

“If that’s a police officer, I think we’re both going to jail,” you whisper.

“Or if it’s a ghost, I don’t think I’ll know what to do.”

“You seriously think it’s a ghost?!”

Renjun can’t answer for a figure comes into view, who most certainly belongs to higher authorities you’re not supposed to upset. Instead of saying anything, you share a look with Renjun and the two of you take off running. The adrenaline has already spiked into your veins as you follow your companion, who unquestionably knows his ways around these tunnels. You hear shouts from someone who’s most likely a patrolling guard but you keep running till an exit appears and you get out into the fresh summer air. You only feel the breeze for a moment before you have to break into a sprint again. You can tell dawn is on its way with the glint of the sky.

You can still hear trouble behind you as you leave the area and somewhere into your escape, Renjun takes a hold of your hand to keep you from tripping.

You reach the school dorms out of breath, sweat coating your skin and muscles throbbing. The two of you breathe heavily before a smile creeps onto your face and you laugh (or rather, wheeze) despite your lungs aching. Renjun looks at you incredulously and smiles back, the moment almost delicate. There’s a brief second when the two of you realize your hands are still clasped in each other’s and you let go with a start. You’ll brush this under the carpet too, of course.

“I hate running,” Renjun says in between huffs, bent over with his palms on his knees. “But the look on your face…I can’t stop thinking of it.”

Renjun breaks into laughter, the dimple on his cheek showing and making his features all the more pleasant.

You shake your head at him, deciding to let this one slide.

“I’ll treat you to breakfast at Red’s,” you say, unsure why you’re doing this. You don’t have to, but you feel like you should. It’s not every day you see the flicks of an artist’s wrists.

“Shouldn’t you get home? You live pretty far,” he says.

“It’s only a ten-minute subway ride,” you shrug, “How do you know I live far anyway? Does this mean you’re the one stalking me? Hm?”

“You’ve said you live far before, dumbass,” Renjun replies, his ears turning red.

You grin at him, hoping Red’s has opened for breakfast.

And just like that, you find you’ve both cast aside your differences. Everyone who knows you are in awe when you and Renjun simply shrug at the idea of being partners for a project. Only Jeno and Jaemin look smug when you laugh at what Renjun says, while Donghyuck and some of your friends leave teasing remarks. Your accidents have decreased by a decent amount and Renjun no longer glares holes into the back of your head in Calculus and Geography. In fact, you’ve been having civil conversations (save for light insults and jokes like between friends) and although something has changed, it doesn’t feel odd at all, like this was meant to be.

You don’t miss any opportunity to trail behind Renjun every time he comes up with something new to paint. It’s not like he keeps it secretive enough from you and although he acts annoyed, you think he’s glad to not venture into creepy, abandoned places alone. He’s a little bit of a coward, but a brave artist nonetheless. You’re lucky that more often than not, it’s a clean getaway (though Chenle’s snooping around the police station helps). Somewhere along the way, you shoved off your unnecessary hatred for Renjun. The night never ages when you’re together.

You sit atop the ledge of an apartment rooftop with Renjun beside you. There’s a bunch of obsolete items stashed around the small space—an old vending machine, partly broken flower vases, a rusted bicycle and more—some entertained by the overgrown vines cradling them. Renjun’s finished painting the floor of the roof, a sunflower field with vague meaning and a tiny Moomin hiding in between. This building will be gone soon and no one would find this one easily, yet he painted here. You don’t understand why he works on things that don’t last.

The building is too short for you to view the skyline; it’s quite dazzling to look at during night-time but it’s morning now. Thus, you only have the sky’s pink clouds and Renjun to keep your company interesting enough.

“I mean, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought this way,” Renjun continues rambling, “If the universe doesn’t give a shit about you anyway—why shouldn’t you do whatever the hell you want? Our lives are too small when you compare it to stars and planets. And even they don’t matter in the end!”

“Optimistic nihilism is not an excuse to wreak havoc, Renjun,” you sigh. The breeze is finally picking up on the rooftop. Empty apartment buildings are hard to find these days. Of course, you’ve only learnt that because of Renjun.

Renjun rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’re an angel, you know?”

You feign a shocked expression, hand flying over your heart. “But you’re the one in black, Mr. Huang Renjun. And I’m the one in a white sweatshirt, looking as angelic as I can be.”

Renjun drops his head to rest his cheek against his palm, the look of distaste across his face.

“You have no idea how miserable you made me all these years,” he huffs. “I remember when you dropped the pottery mud on me in sixth grade—you ruined my figurine and I never got to wear that shirt again!”

“Why do you remember what I did to you in sixth grade?”

“You expect me to forget tha—you don’t look very apologetic either.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“I swear I never meant to do any of that!” you defend, shaking your head profusely, “Maybe a little sometimes. But mostly never.”

Renjun breathes out, a defeated sigh tumbling out. He turns back to the sunflowers on the roof, a brief flash of respite passing his features. The following moments are coloured with silence and you lean back onto your arms. You can see the beautifully simple tattoo of Saturn on his left wrist peeking out of his sleeve. Renjun doesn’t like showing it to people often, and it’s not very easy to spot it either with his love for jackets and long sleeves. He said he wasn’t really thinking when he got it, just thought it was pretty. You think it’s just like him.

If you were to reach out right now, you could run your thumb over the ink, feel the skin. Your face turns warm. This is not supposed to be the feeling you get. You must not think the words, or you’ll accept them for reality.

You’ve started thinking this lately, but Renjun isn’t a bad person. He might be too honest for his own good but he has a strong sense of right and wrong, something your class is not wrong for admiring. He’s said he wants to be brave one of these passing days, (“I don’t want to run all the time. Just from the cops maybe. And anyone with a weapon.” “Glad to know you’re not going to jail any time soon.” “Don’t look so disappointed.”). You think he already is brave for being true to himself. He’s not always impulsive either, and he’s surprisingly kind often. He’s clever with his words, not just annoying. You realize you’ve seen only a shadow of him before. You feel guilty for having been so harsh.

“It’s funny,” he says, a small smile on his face, “People who know usually question me why I do this first. You haven’t questioned me yet.”

“Why do you do this?”

“I don’t know.” Renjun shrugs. “I just wanted to shove my feelings somewhere, I guess. You know. Choose your own sin, that kinda thing.”

“That’s nice,” you say, your smile mirroring his. “You don’t have to show off, Mr. Artist.”

Renjun laughs, his eyes twinkling with the stars. He doesn’t have to look like that. You look away for fear of delving deeper, something unknown gripping you. There’s an uncomfortable feeling choking you, its dark hands constricting around your neck. This isn’t good. You must not think the words, the feelings or they will become reality.

You get up suddenly.

“You think I can jump across to the opposite building?” It’s no use. The red must have started blossoming over your neck and ears already. No matter; you have to run away from this feeling somehow.

“What the fuck?”

“Treat me to ice-cream if I succeed,” you say, the adrenaline rushing in. Much better than whatever the hell had gripped you. The gap’s not that large; if you get enough momentum, you can leap onto the building’s ledge. You can run away.

Renjun stands up in haste.

“Did you get hit on the head?” He takes a step towards you. “Why the hell do you think this is a good idea?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

Before you can step on the ledge, however, Renjun’s hand shoots to grip your wrist, the touch burning your skin.

“Don’t.”

Oh, you definitely know what this feeling is. You’re not sure what the outcome will be, especially when a mere touch to the wrist can bloom red all across your skin, free so many butterflies in your chest and stomach. You’re almost ashamed of yourself, yet a voice inside you is smug; it was bound to happen. Renjun pulls you down off the ledge and lets go.

“Oh, well. The last one to reach the ground treats ice-cream!” you declare before you rush to the door at lightning speed, and swing it open to exit. You don’t want your feelings written all over your face for him to read.

“No- what?! That’s cheating!” Renjun scrambles behind you, his voice full of annoyance, but a different kind than before. You wish it hadn’t changed, but you’re also not quite complaining.

Renjun hates this feeling more than he’s ever hated you. In fact, he can’t remember the feeling of hating you anymore. He wonders if it’s okay to have these thoughts about you.

Renjun spots your figure on the couch by yourself. Jaemin’s parties have two kinds of people—people drunk out of their minds and people only here by peer compulsion. He can’t say he’s ever seen you at parties before, maybe once or twice, not that he’s cared—he only wanted to avoid you then. He fidgets with the yellow sleeves of his sweatshirt; he doesn’t usually wear something this bright but he’ll blame you once more. He wishes you hadn’t been so elusive lately; a part of him feels weary without you and a part curses him for that.

Renjun’s heart leaps to his chest when he sits beside you, only to be greeted with a sweet smile and flushed cheeks. Stop looking at me like that, he wishes he could think the words into existence. There are scores of emotions tangled up inside him with no way to untie the multicoloured knots. It takes a while to calm his heartbeat, and even then, it’s unnatural.  He might as well tell you at this point—tell you that he likes you, that he’s wanted you more than he’s ever wanted anyone. He read somewhere that summer is a good time to let out your feelings although he can’t be sure of the credibility of the article.

You’ve always been a problem for him, this stupid, annoying problem he wanted to get rid of as soon as he could. And yet, you’ve given him the sweetest picture of all. He doesn’t usually play this game—in fact, he’s never done anything like this before. He feels embarrassed every time he drifts past his daydream, wanting you to kiss him, caress his cheek and run your fingers through his hair. These thoughts feel more illicit than anything he’s ever done. Renjun feels weak in the head when you tug at his sleeve.

“Hi,” you greet, still smiling. Renjun desperately wishes you wouldn’t look at him like that.

Just confess, the voice inside his head tells him. Get it out of your system.

“Hey.”

However, the words halt on his tongue. This is the voice he’s been saying no to ever since you looked at him with wonder, with stars tugging your smile by those subway walls.

He needs to swallow his pride to confess— but just what is he doing? This is not what was supposed to happen, this is not something he’d ever imagine a few months ago. He’s practised the words, but he can’t look you in the eye. He can’t tell you, oh no. It’s easier to run away.

You tilt your head, your gaze soft and Renjun feels a sigh leave his mouth.

“I like you,” he blurts out. “Yes. I, uh, l-like you. That’s what I meant to say- what I’ve been meaning to say. For a while.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, “That’s very sweet of you.”

You burst into a fit of giggles. Renjun is only slightly baffled as he examines your condition. Out of all the ways he’d imagined you reacting to his confession, this was not one of them.

“Are you- are you drunk?!” he asks, the realization dawning upon him. You reek of alcohol, he finds with a sniff.

“What? No. Go back to being sweet. What were you saying again?”

Renjun places his face in his hands and groans. Not only did his horribly timed confession go unheard, but also he’ll undoubtedly have to carry your drunk ass back home. He definitely does not want your family finding him with you in this state.

“How much did you drink?” Renjun asks with a grimace, helping you up.

“Renjun. You’re adorable,” you say, wrapping your arms around his torso. He freezes immediately, resisting an urge to push you off him. This is strange, the feeling is strange. Renjun’s cheeks have risen a few degrees, his chest blooming with electricity and his ears will blow steam if he doesn’t do anything soon.

“We need to get you home,” he says, the syllables distinct.

“How could I go home?” you whine, wrapping your arms tighter around him.

Renjun resists another urge to smack you over the head. His heartbeat is frantic at this point, and he wants nothing more than the sweet relief of death to free himself from you. Besides alcohol, he can smell strawberries, possibly from your shampoo, and a dash of fabric softener. You’re warm and comfortable, annoyingly so. If you stay like this, he might not be able to bear the thought of you moving away from him.

Of course, Jeno has to find the two of you like this, your head in the crook of his neck and arms wrapped around him as his own balance you. In the middle of the living room, you look like young lovers who have forgotten the rest of the room, the world. There are people all around, yet no one cares.

Better Jeno than the others, Renjun thinks when he meets his friend’s eyes, although Jeno can be equally teasing.

“Help me get them home,” Renjun says, pulling you apart and holding you steady. You let out a complaint that he ignores.

“You could take them to the dorms,” Jeno offers. “It’s nearby.”

“What?!” Renjun didn’t realize his pitch could rise that high. “Can’t they…stay here?”

“The rooms are occupied. Besides, your roommate’s on vacation, right? You can take the top bunk,” Jeno suppresses an amused smile. Renjun hates him looking so smug.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll…do…that.”

“Need help sneaking (name) in?” Jeno has a teasing lilt to his voice.

“No, I’m good,” Renjun responds quickly. Jeno won’t let him live, will he?

In the end, with much difficulty, Renjun actually manages to sneak you in and with even more difficulty, he gets you to sit on the bed.

“I like you like this,” you say with a laugh. “I wish you’d always be this nice. And loving. And nice. Everyone would love you more. Not as cool guy Renjun. But sweet guy Renjun. I love sweet guy Renjun.”

Renjun sighs heavily. “If I gave all my love away like that, do you think people would care about me for me?”

He shakes his head. There’s no way he’s having a coherent conversation with you right now.

“I would,” you respond, your voice meek.

Renjun ignores your answer; you must be too drunk to think right now. With a hurried goodbye, he turns off the lights and clutches his heart tighter to bed.

You clear your throat, trying desperately to distract yourself from certain memories of last night and the fact that you’re currently in the school dorms, likely in Renjun’s room.

The afternoon has bled well into wisps of the evening, and you look around more nervous than ever. You remember clinging onto Renjun a little too tight, your hands around his waist—it’s the first time you’ve touched him save for the occasional swatting at his hands or punches to the shoulder. What would the school think of you two warmed up so close to each other like that—what would Renjun think of your stupid drunk self holding on to him like that?

Or even worse, what if you said something? What if you let slip something important at a time when words don’t mean as much?

The door opens and you flinch, turning your head to find the object of your afflictions. Renjun blinks for a moment or two before he sits beside you. He’s wearing a thin jacket; it’s not cold outside but he prefers those anyway. There are a gash and a bruise on his cheek and you wonder which obviously larger and stronger opponent he pissed off again.

“I thought you’d never wake,” Renjun says, nodding to emphasize. “That’s my bed, by the way.”

“Who’d you get into a fight with?” You shift closer, narrowing your eyes.

Renjun sighs, making a face. “Some idiot. Why does that matter?”

“Hold that tongue of yours for once,” you chide.

He heaves a noise of annoyance. “What are you, my mom? I let you sleep here all of last night and most of today—and the first thing you do is complain. I could’ve left you at Jaemin’s house, you know?”

“See! That’s what I’m talking about—you have no control over what you say sometimes,” you state, an old feeling bubbling up. “You pick a fight with everyone.”

“No. Everyone picks a fight with me and they do that because they hate the truth.” He pauses to let his frown show in his eyes. “Are you telling me I shouldn’t tell people to stop being rude to waitresses or tell the other kids to stop whining about not doing anything? They know the truth too.”

“When will you realize there are things more important than the truth?” Your voice is louder already. But you don’t think you mean the words; they’re just cowardly, from a person too afraid to lay their feelings out in the open.

“So you’ve decided to be this way then,” he says, scowling already. This is an old scene alright.

“I’m just telling you what might help—God, never mind,” you say, standing up quickly, “This what I hate about you. You’re just- there are just so many things I hate about you.”

No, you don’t mean any of this but habits die slow.

Renjun looks up at you silently. The sunlight makes its way to his cheek, caressing it with golden hues. His hair brushes against his browbone, the sun apparent in the brownish loose strands. The gash on his cheek is unbecoming but if anything, it highlights the rosy hues of his lips and nose. You’ve never been this infuriated yet fascinated with someone before. Your hands twitch, head still clouded with unfamiliar thoughts and a hangover. You wish you hadn’t snuck a look at his lips.

“Go on then,” he whispers, eyes flickering down for barely a moment, “Tell me what you hate about me.”

Do you take the risk? You hold the fragile thread against your thumb, a small tug required to snap it off.

You pull him up by the lapels of his jacket into a kiss, his lips rough against yours. The force of your pull sends the two of you stumbling backward three steps before your lower back hits the side of the study desk. You hold your position, your shaking hands bunching up the cloth you tightly hold.

When he doesn't respond, you feel a tremor of panic—maybe you shouldn't have been so hasty, maybe you figured wrong. You pull away with a start, an apology popping up on your lips and warmth across your face. But in the brief stretch of a moment, Renjun slides one arm around your waist and the other against the table for balance, his torso relaxing as he pushes against your lips again to further the kiss.

When you pull away, Renjun’s face is a sweet shade of pink. He looks embarrassed for a moment before he furrows his eyebrows, lips curving to a frown.

“You shouldn’t go around crashing your lips onto other people’s,” he scolds.

Your face flushes hot and you stumble over words to excuse yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, “I should have asked.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” he mumbles. “You’re lucky I wanted to kiss you the moment I entered this room.”

You feel another rush of warmth to your cheeks. Renjun is no different, face splashed pink from his words and your actions.

Renjun dips his head and you press your lips against his in another kiss, this one much calmer as a promise, the feeling already getting familiar. Maybe fate had different plans all along and the two of you misunderstood. Or perhaps, you’ve fallen into something fate forgot to acknowledge, perhaps fate grew tired.

Renjun pulls away first, lips parting into an open smile. Your heart swells, all the contempt inside driven out.

“I was wrong,” you confess, “I was wrong about you- about a lot of things, actually.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same boat,” he says softly.

You bury your head against his neck again, the smell of summer wind and green tea hand cream wafting in. You can’t quite describe it but you’ve grown used it, the scent and the warmth. You’ve grown used to Renjun as a person now and not as the bane of your existence.

“You know, I actually wouldn’t mind,” Renjun says.

“What?”

“Going to prom with you.”

You laugh. He looks away bashfully, the dimple appearing once more and you know right then you’ve been wrong in cursing fate—this is a gift that took time, one you unwrapped late. He’s only occasionally timid, not looking to pick a fight and you want to cherish moments like these. You don’t have to say things to mean them with him; you don’t have to hold his hand to feel warmth. Whatever had been set up for you, the two of you have finished it and as your mother says, only once in a blue moon does fate betray its course.

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Potential (A General Hux x Reader Insert Multi-Chapter Fic, Rated T)

Chapter Three

The evening had started so promising and lovely. It was a simple gala to raise funds for the Order and a chance for you to meet the Council and higher Admirals. While General Hux did take direct orders from Supreme Leader Snoke, most decisions that concerned the First Order had to get approved by the Council. There were many nights where you listened to your husband rant about their incompetence and lack of foresight. Anything involving finances or major operations needed their say-so, and they did not grant it often. They were old members of the Imperial Army, kept fat by ancestral money and tarnishing reputations. You needed to figure out which ones to keep and which ones were expendable. When you took over you’d probably get rid of the Council entirely but for now they had power over the General and you needed to show respect. 

Your husband had kept an arm around your waist almost the whole evening and you felt as though you were floating through the night. You were singing his praises, extolling triumph and virtue upon him and the First Order. Every nod in agreement was a credit in the coffers and point in your favor. Then it all went wrong.

You had stepped away to use the refresher and then gotten waylaid by some Colonel’s wife. While you found the lot of them vapid, you understood their usefulness in influencing their husband’s opinions, and so you spent a good few minutes exchanging pleasantries and gossip. They were loose with their tongues after some wine and you quickly learned how loyal some of the more affluent members were and to whom they were loyal. A good number viewed Snoke with indifference and merely cared about gaining control of the Galaxy again. They would follow General Hux before Snoke if the ideas were good enough and the rewards were large enough. These bloated old men just wanted the glory of the Empire restored and the status quo kept. You wouldn’t be doing that, but why burst their bubble so soon.

Excusing yourself, you searched the large hall for the flash of red that was your husband and found him talking with a handsome older gentleman. His eyes caught yours and your heart skipped a beat against your will. Under the glowing lights of the banquet hall, his cheeks flushed from the good food and drink, your husband looked resplendent. He was so full of vitality and power, oh your heart suddenly ached to be close to him. He would be magnificent when you gave him the helm of the galaxy.

“Ah, there you are my dear.” He said, grabbing your hand and rubbing your knuckles before pulling you to him and placing his hand back on your waist. The touch, even through your dress, was scorching. Touch with him always seemed to be one step forward, two steps back. He would kiss your hand or forehead every night before you retired but he never pushed further. Sometimes you would sit together in the evening after his shift, knees touching but if you even tried to get closer he would pull away. You couldn’t figure out why. If he wasn’t attracted to women, you wouldn’t have been offended. But if he wasn’t attracted to you, you’d rather know sooner than later. The rejection was starting to sting and you desperately craved some kind of intimacy. 

“Forgive me for leaving you. I got a bit distracted by Colonel Paru’s wife. She just came back from Naboo and had so much to tell me.” You say bashfully, looking at the other man. He smiled but it did not reach his eyes. You turn towards your husband in a subtle move of solidarity.

“Not at all (Y/N), I was just speaking with Allegiant General Pryde.” Hux replies, pushing against your back towards your guest. Extending your hand gracefully, you allow Pryde to take it in a strong grip. His stare was very cold and dismissive.

“How nice to meet you Allegiant General. How are you enjoying the party?” You ask pleasantly, pulling your hand back with a strained smile. While you enjoyed socializing and subtly employing your influence, you were tired. Everyone around you felt like a statue, so stiff and impersonal. It reminded you too much of your mother’s parties, where everyone was trying to vye for meager power and hid behind invisible masks.

“It’s quite the glittering assemblage Lady Hux, made all the more beautiful by your inclusion. I was just telling your husband how lucky he was to have you as a wife. Not all of us are content to remain bachelors. How he can focus on his missions with such a becoming woman on his arm is admirable.” He said with a rueful chuckle that seemed fake and incendiary. You blush and look towards your General in exaggerated adoration but his face has gone tight. A few more people come over to join your conversation, clearly wanting to get in good with Pryde.

“Yes I suppose if one is forced to be wed, (Y/N) is an acceptable partner. Do not envy me, General Pryde, married life comes with it’s own struggles. The First Order and the Supreme Leader’s vision must always come first and I assure you, they do.” His hand drops from your waist and your smile follows it.

“In the next cycle I plan to pitch a great new weapon to the Supreme Leader that will cement the First Order’s place in the galaxy and take out the pitiful Resistance in one fell swoop. No one, certainly not an insipid girl obsessed with dresses and galas, can keep me from my purpose. My marriage is only proof that the galaxy needs the First Order, the crumbling Imperial kingdoms returned to their rightful place through the Supreme Leader’s brilliance. They could not do so without our strength and power. We have been extending our reach throughout the galaxy and soon we will be unstoppable.” He says, his eyes seeing far beyond the crowd that surrounds you, his fists tightening in their gloves. He has the look of fervor that comes over him when he makes a speech in front of the Stormtroopers. Pryde’s insinuation has insulted him and in response he is insulting you.

“Come now General, are you really that derisive of your wife? I managed to catch her speech on Ando and I found it very eloquent and inspiring. The First Order needs more than weapons to bring the people to it’s might.” A Major pipes up, though his comment does little to improve your mood.

Hux scoffs and stands in parade rest, a tell you’ve noticed him doing when he feels unprepared and uneasy. It gives him comfort to stand so tall and still and you clench your fists to stop yourself from pushing him over.

“My wife is skilled in many things, that is true. While we do have more systems under our banner because of her tour, I am sure they would have succumbed to our power regardless. Wars are won with strategies, not lunch meetings.” His accent has started to sound ridiculously crisp and pompous and you long to pull his hair and make him groan like a wounded animal.

The other men are agreeing with him, asking about this weapon that is news to you, commenting on how ridiculous their wives are with their clothes and petty squabbles. The noise rises to a static sound, everything becoming muffled as though you are underwater. Your vision tunnels on your husband’s face, severe and uncaring. He turns to you and gives you a look of such contempt and distaste, your gasp of hurt is clearly audible.

“I’m going home now, please excuse me.” You say quietly but full of venom, before turning on your heel and breaking away from the group. Laughter follows your departure and you tighten your lips in order to stop yourself from crying. You knew the General could be harsh, but never imagined it would be towards you. And to insult your intelligence and your partnership, to bring up a brand new idea out of nowhere, to hurt you so badly in front of your peers, cut deeper than any physical wound.

Pushing through throngs of people, you don’t excuse yourself or explain. Your happiness at the beginning of the evening is waning. Your beautiful pink gown, with it’s large skirt and train is a hindrance to you, slowing your escape. You’re so focused on getting past a large group of women in similarly large dresses, that you don’t see Lord Ren until he grabs your arm to stop you.

His mask offers you nothing though his grip is tight but not painful. You push your hand against his and try to pull away. He is an unyielding mountain in your path.

“Lady Hux, you-” He starts to say, the robotic voice sounding almost soft. But you’re close to crying and you will not embarrass yourself any further. Lacking any fear that you would normally have in this scenario, you manage to break free of his hold.

“Don’t talk to me. I refuse to suffer any more indignities tonight. Surely your reproach can wait.” You bark out before quickly running out the door. You do not see the way his eyes follow your retreat or the glare he levels at your husband.

You leave the party in silence and you return to your rooms in silence. He has not chosen to follow you and the dismissal is one more barb against you. If he thinks you’re going to forget about this by the time he gets back, he is sorely mistaken. Glancing around the room, your eyes catch all of his possessions, meager as they are, and you long to destroy them. But you won’t, you have consideration for people. 

You rip off your tiara and sit down on the couch in a huff of silk instead. You’ll wait for him, pacing around your quarters and your temper getting higher and higher. How dare he humiliate you like that, in front of all those important people? And what of this new weapon? Did he have plans outside of the ones you made together? Why didn’t he tell you? Why didn’t he trust you? 

An hour of this circular thought passes before the door opens again and he enters. You were sure you looked a mess, hair falling out of it’s style and face lined from worry. He doesn’t spare you a glance before taking off his gloves and setting them on the small table by the door like he always does. You hate him so deeply in that moment, the color of his hair fills your vision and you wonder if he can hear the warning bells pealing.

Your husband doesn’t say much, quite surprising considering how much he was talking earlier, and goes over to the liquor cabinet. He pours a drink for himself and does not offer you something, how typical. Though you wouldn’t take a drink even if he did; your head already feels hazy.

The memories of tonight start to swirl and bubble in your brain as you watch him take off his outerwear and settle at his desk. He’s not going to acknowledge you or your anger and that only fuels your fire. You push off the couch and up to his desk, sweeping an arm across the surface and knocking everything to the ground. His chair screeches against the floor as he stands abruptly.

“How dare you! That’s my work, you can’t just do that. You could break it.” He shouts, pointing a finger in your face. You relish his irritation, happy for some kind of reaction.

“How dare I? You can’t just ignore me after what you did. You don’t get to act like I’m some silly girl with hurt feelings! You blindsided me in front of all the Admirals and governors and made me look like an idiot. We’re supposed to be a team and you treated me like a stupid subordinate.” You shout, backing away from him and running to the bedroom. The door stays open because your fight isn’t over yet.

“You told Pryde about some new weapon you have, about your plans. What new weapon? I thought we agreed we were going to focus on taking as much ground as possible. We decided that gaining land and territories was more important than some large show of violent power. Are you drunk? You almost gave away our true ideas to the men we’re trying to get rid of!” You say through the open door, struggling to take off your dress. He makes a move as if to join you and help but you hold a hand up to stop him. Somehow you manage and glare at him in your slip, the chill of your quarters only adding to the loneliness that surrounds you. He scoffs again, the sound jarring.

“You’re just cross because I didn’t include you in my plan. Not everything in my life needs to concern you and clearly you don’t have the acumen to understand it.” Hux replies, focusing more on the items you pushed off his desk than you. It’s a small thing but the fact that he won’t even look at you as you yell is what snaps something inside of you. Running out of the bedroom, you slap him hard across the face. He lets out a gasp of shock and you kick a leg out to knock him to the ground. Flat on his back, you get on top of him settling your weight on his stomach. 

“Listen to me, you pompous foolish child! You would have nothing without me. I made you! You would have no plan without me! You came to me begging for credits and I gave you purpose. I don’t need you, any high ranking official would’ve worked, but I chose you. Snoke would find you lacking and kill you soon enough. You need me! I won’t let you diminish me and toss me aside.” You sneer, your hands coming up to grab at his neck. You don’t squeeze but the small pressure you place is a reminder. He pushes against you, clearly not impressed with your behavior. He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“You want to rule the galaxy and get rid of Snoke, then you better start showing me some respect. I am not a stupid girl and you should be defending me in front of the Council! Pryde is your competition and a block in our path and you want to cozy up to him? Have some conviction in your goals!” You demand before he flips your positions, his body hovering above you. His hands push your wrists up above your head and against the hard floor as his legs bracket yours. Apparently it’s his turn to speak.

“How dare you strike me! I could kill you with barely any energy expended. Your ideas only work with me and you know it. You needed someone with power and an audience with Snoke to get what you want. You need me! I have every right to look at you and your weaknesses with contempt because they’re obvious. You say I have potential and yet you refuse to let me plot my own future. I was doing just fine before you came along and I will do just fine after you’re gone.” He yells back, spittle dropping onto your face as you squirm. His face is turning red with rage. You aren’t afraid per se, but you do feel uncertain. You’ve never seen him so incensed and certainly not at you. 

It dawns on you then why he’s so incensed and why he’s fighting back with you like this. If he truly felt this way, he would’ve gotten rid of you long ago. This whole evening has shaken him and a smile forms as you laugh in his face. 

“You are so transparent! You’ve realized you’re replaceable and you’re scared. You can’t hide from me General. You know that there’s nothing special about you and that I could become Empress with anyone else. Perhaps I should drop you and move on to someone like Pryde. He has true ambition. Or maybe I should leave you for Kylo Ren and back someone with actual power instead of a boy playing at General and begging for approval from Daddy. At least one of them might actually fuck me and make all this worth it.” His eyes widen and he rears back, his grip loosening. You use his surprise against him and grip his face with your nails. You hope he bleeds from the sharp points. No one speaks for a moment, the air around you is hot and tense.

It is eerily silent as his hand slides up to your neck. It does not push or squeeze, it just sits there in warning. A flash of fear enters you and the spark of triumph in his eyes makes you positive he’s seen it. You feel like he can see right through you in that moment, can see through to your very soul and pick up your deepest insecurities.

“Is that what this is about? Is that why you’re so upset?” He coos, his voice dark and low. He’s mocking you and your heart hammers inside your chest. His cheek is still pink where you slapped him and he pulls your hand away, the white indentations from your nails fading.

“You just need someone to fuck you and put you in your place huh? Someone to remind you that you’re important? My dear you could have just asked, I would’ve fucked you in a heartbeat if I knew it would keep you behaved.” He murmurs, his face very close to yours. You swallow down your disgust and mortification.

“I don’t want you to fuck me to keep me quiet. I want you to respect me and my ideas. I want you to acknowledge what I’m doing for you. I want us to be a united pair! I want you to fuck me because you care about me!” You plead, the fight in you draining in the face of his ridicule.

“I don’t know where this is coming from,” You continue, “we were working so well before and now, now you’re being very cruel. I didn’t think you would ever be like this. We’re supposed to work together.” You sigh, your body drooping and, to your horror, tears start to fall.

With tears clouding your vision, you don’t see the breaking of his cold facade or the guilt in his eyes. He pulls away and since his body was the only thing holding you up, you collapse onto the floor again, crying. The emotional whiplash of the evening has caught up with you.

All you wanted was to be important, to make change in the galaxy. You just wanted someone to listen and care about you. You thought that General Hux could give you that but clearly not. He was just going to use you like everyone else. You were nothing more than a bargaining chip for your parents, a pretty broodmare for some politician or soldier. But Hux, you were going to give him everything and all you wanted in return was someone to give you some control and freedom over your own life.

“(Y/N)... I…” He stammers out and you realize that you just said that all out loud. But what’s more degradation? What’s more pain? You keep your face down, speaking your anguish at the floor instead of the person causing it like the scared little girl you are.

“You already know my plan, you don’t need me. You can throw me out of the airlock and leave me to my fate. I can’t stand this anymore. You’ve ignored me for weeks and now you insult me and almost ruin anything. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.” You choke out. 

Then, a change. Hux lifts you from the floor and holds you against his chest. You stop crying in surprise and look up at him hesitantly as he brings you to the bedroom. Setting you down gently on the bed, he pulls off his boots and sits down next to you. He hands you a tissue and you wipe at your face. The man in front of you is a stranger and you come to grips with how little you know about him.

Your husband looks very young right now, and you remember his age. He’s done so much in such a short amount of time, his inexperience is showing. You’re both children playing at being adults, playing at being Gods.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly in the darkness of your bedroom. You look at him from the corner of your eye. “Before you came over, General Pryde was speaking to me and he was undermining my latest choices. I was very angry and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. You’re right, we should be a team. Everything that you said was right. I do need you and I should be more considerate of you.” The words sound difficult for him to say but he’ll receive no comfort from you.

“I am replaceable.” The word echoes around the room and the horrible truth of it is written across his face. It’s hard to come to terms with your own lack of importance, but it was a lesson he had to learn. Or at least, as he was doing now, admit out loud. To be truly great, you would have to bring him up from nothing and he had to let you.

“So much is riding on this,” He continues, his fingers digging into his palms, “I don’t want to fail before we even begin. We could be discovered for our treason and killed. I’ve been a disappointment all my life, I would never want to make you feel that way. I want to succeed and I think seeing you this evening, charming everyone and looking so beautiful, it made me realize how little I actually do. Ever since Starkiller, I’ve felt so adrift. Snoke is giving me nothing and I’m following the barest traces of the Resistance in order to have something to oversee. I feel useless in the face of your ambitions.” He closes his eyes and swallows. His drink is back in the sitting room.

Knowing his habits, you carefully open his hands to stop him from hurting himself more. You lean over and kiss each palm and each fingertip, still unsure of what you want in this moment. He pulls his hands away and stretches out to lie fully on the bed. It is the first time you’ve ever seen him do it. Hux has not joined you in the bedroom the whole time you’ve been on the Finalizer and the dark circles under his eyes lead you to believe he may have been sleeping on the couch.

You shuffle down as well, lying next to him in the grey light the stars give you. You yawn, feeling the exhaustion from the whole evening come over you. You clear your throat, wiping at your face again.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel useless or stupid. I want so badly for this to work that I guess I took over without thinking of your needs and position. I’m doing this for you but that doesn’t mean I get to make all the decisions.” You whisper, turning your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed and he takes in a breath through his nose. 

He finally turns to face you, regarding you nervously. The normal verdant green of his eyes has turned into a darker shade, but they are still so expressive and beautiful to you. Even in your anger and sadness, he is breathtaking to you.

“Why me? Why am I so special? Why put all your energy into making me Emperor? This plan will uproot everything and change the power systems of the galaxy. Why bother?” He questions, sounding very scared and exposed. You scoot closer to him, your noses almost touching. One of your hands comes to caress at his cheek, the same one you hit only minutes before. He does not flinch and you sigh in relief.

“Because you are special. I was wrong to say otherwise. You hurt me and I wanted to hurt you back. You are so smart and capable and you’ve worked so hard to make the First Order great. You deserve to be in charge, to rule it all. You have so much potential and I wanted to help you towards greatness. I wanted to help you in the naive hope that you’d take me along.” You admit, brushing back some of his hair. It had come out of it’s gelled style sometime around the end of the party and you like it better this way.

“No, you were right. You are right about everything. I’m sorry I hurt you, the things I said were cruel and they were meant to hurt you. I knew what I was doing. I’m only special because you believe me to be,” He says, his voice breaking with emotion, “Everyone knows how worthless I really am. My father saw it and my instructors saw it, Snoke and the Council see-” 

You kiss him then, unable and unwilling to restrain yourself. His lips are dry and soft under your own and he freezes next to you. You’re about to pull away, convinced you’ve made a huge error and everything really would be ruined, when his arms come around you and pull you flush against his body.

Your kiss becomes one of passion and yearning, making up for lost time. You have to reassure him that you care and he has to continue to apologize. You surge against him, trying to make every inch of your body touch his. You kiss and kiss again, biting and sucking at each other’s lips, pulling away to breathe only when you have to.

He mumbles out apologies between kisses, his hands traveling up and down your back. You shush him with kisses to his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. A moan breaks the silence and you realize it’s coming from you. The sound spurs him on and he lowers his head to kiss your neck.

“Yes, oh yes my darling, please. Leave a mark.” You gasp, your other hand coming up to tangle in his hair. But he doesn’t do anything in response except pull away. Breathing heavily, you look at him in confusion.

“Say it again… please.” He whispers, his eyes darting to your lips. There is a brief moment where your brain tries to catch up and then it clicks. You lean forward and kiss him softly.

“Darling, darling. My sweet darling. You’re so good, you’re so smart, I just adore you darling.” You whisper against his skin. The bite against your neck is it’s own reward. Any pain he bestows, he instantly soothes with his lips and tongue. It’s a very good apology so far.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me.” He whispers, the glow from the viewport illuminating you both. You nod, words bubbling up in your throat. You throw a hand over your mouth to stop them from escaping. You’re not ready yet and neither is he. But one day soon, you’ll say them. You’ll sear them into his skin and melt them against his lips. You’ll breathe them into his lungs and hear them repeated back to you. Not now, but someday you will.

Time passes strangely on a starship. With nothing but the cold, vastness of space at every viewport, a person has to rely on chronometers and artificial sunlight to remind them of the change. Time on a ship both rushes ahead and slows to a crawl and if you’re not careful, you can lose track of it all.

So perhaps it was only minutes that you and General Hux lay together on the bed, tucked beneath the blankets and enveloped within each other. Or maybe it was hours, officers from the late night shift saying good night and good morning to the ones replacing them. 

Or it could have been days. Days wrapped up in each other, sighing and moaning as you chased your release. Days passing as you learned the dips and peaks of each other’s bodies and tasted skin and sweat and more. Days full of changes to your relationship, to your desires, to your feelings. Days that seemed to never end, and yet, were over in a blink.

When you finally finish, lying quietly next to each other and marveling at the ages old pastime that you have discovered, your husband turns to face you. Mirroring his pose, your bodies become commas giving you space to breathe.

“If you ever strike me again, I’ll cut your hand off.” He says, matter of fact. The words sink in as you gaze at his profile, admiring the rare look of peace.

“If you ever humiliate me again, I’ll frame you for treason and take the throne myself.” You counter, equally matter of fact. Another moment of silence before you both burst into laughter. A patrolling pair of Stormtroopers stop outside your door in confusion before rightfully deciding it’s none of their business and moving on.

Adjusting the pillow behind his head, your darling- because that is what he is now, that is how much he means to you- reaches for a matte silver case on the nightstand. Lighting a cigarra, he sucks in deeply as the tip glows red, before blowing out a stream of cloudy, blue smoke. His other arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you close. The feeling of his skin against yours, even after your tumble in the sheets, is a revelation.

Stealing the cigarra from his hands, you take a drag before placing it back in his mouth, swollen red from your earlier lovemaking.

“So, what’s next my dear?” He asks. A fog settles around your heads as he lazily smokes in the afterglow. You curl and uncurl your fingers in a soothing pattern over the paleness of his chest. Despite your violent fight and emotional reconciling, you feel more confident than ever before. 

“We kill the Council.”

Chapter Four coming soon...

Tagging: @babbushka, @livy1391, @girl-next-door-writes, @renaissance-mama, @peqchynero, @the-temple-pythoness, @cupofmoonlighttea, @sincerely-cronch, @brujademente, @potato-ren, @ah-callie, @rosirinoa, @niniita-ah

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

[krizaland]

Childhood Trauma (Smeet!Zim x 1st grader!Reader)

Ok, so I recently remembered a really fucked up memory from my childhood.

Basically, some bitch of a teacher had it out for me and decided to have her class hold me hostage as a cruel, sick joke.

So this story is pretty much based off of that memory.

Now reader and Zim are both around 1st graders in this story so they are just platonic friends, despite what our main villain says.

Be warned: Reader will get kidnapped in this fic!

Elementary Skool was always tough for you. You were bullied from all directions! From your fellow peers to even teachers!

There was only one person who never picked on you:

Your best friend, Zim.

Zim was just as strange as you were.  His green skin aside, he had a hard time understanding social cues and tended to scream a lot.

Nevertheless, you two were inseparable! No matter how bad things got, you knew Zim would have your back and you would have his.

Nobody ever scared Zim, not even Mrs. DeVil.

Mrs. DeVil was surprisingly beloved by most of the students. She was always considered a ‘fun’ teacher.

However, for whatever reason, she seemed to have a vendetta against you.

Maybe it was because you came off as weird or maybe it was because she knew you were friends with Zim.

Either way, you had no idea what her problem was but you sure as hell didn’t want to find out!

Mrs. DeVil usually tormented you in petty ways.

She would yank lollipops out of your mouth and steal your slap bracelets.  She would even make snide comments about the way you dressed!

“Why are you so dressed up? Are you trying to impress your boyfriend?” Mrs. DeVil would sneer as she gestured to your favorite clothes.

Zim would often stick up for you whenever she was up to her old tricks.

“I bet you wish you had a boyfriend, pathetic teacher drone!” Zim would counter.

Zim would often get sent to the principal’s office but he didn’t care.

One day, Mrs. DeVil went too far.

Field Day had just ended and you were making your way back to your classroom.

You were out of breath from all of the obstacle courses you had endured. You felt like you had 20 pound weights strapped to your legs as you continued to journey back to class.

You were so exhausted you didn’t even notice the sound of sinister giggles behind you.

The giggles grew louder and louder until-

“Ok, now, class!”

The moment those words left Mrs. DeVil’s lips, her students snuck up and grabbed you from behind.

You tried to scream but a student covered your mouth.

“Hurry! Take them back to the classroom.” Mrs. DeVil commanded.

Her slimy students eagerly obliged as they gleefully dragged you off to their classroom.

The next thing you knew, you were tied to a chair with a jumprope and placed on top of a cluster of desks that had been pushed together.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as Mrs. DeVil sauntered over to you.

“Well, Well, Well, looks like you’re our hostage, Y/N.” She snickered as she glared up at you.

“Let me go! Please!” You begged as your tears continued to fall.

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll let you go, once your teacher gives us some candy as a ransom! Alright class! Let’s send Y/N’s class a little letter.” Mrs. DeVil instructed as she gestured to a stack of pencils and paper in the back of the classroom.

Her students quickly scuttled to the back of the classroom and grabbed the pencils.

“Now, write: Dear Ms. Shelly, if you want to see Y/N again, you will give us all of your candy!” Mrs. DeVil instructed slowly as she dramatically paced around the room.

“W-What’s gonna happen if Ms. Shelly doesn’t give you your candy?” You stuttered as you wriggled in your restraints.

“Oh, then you’ll stay here forever.” Mrs. DeVil cackled.

Her wicked laughter quickly infected rest of her twisted class. It wasn’t long before the entire room echoed with maniacal laughter.

You let out a panicked shriek as you continued to beg Mrs. DeVil for your freedom.

You were nearly blinded by your tears as you thrashed about.  

Luckily, Zim had noticed you were missing and had gone out to search for you.

“Y/N? Y/N?! Y/N, where are you?!” He called out as he wandered about the empty halls.

“LET ME GO PLEASE! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

The sound of your panicked shriek made Zim’s blood run cold.

“Oh no! Y/N’s in danger! DON’T WORRY, SWEET Y/N! ZIM IS ON THE WAY!” Zim wailed as he frantically ran in the direction of your pleas.

It didn’t take long for him to discover that your cries were coming from Mrs. DeVil’s room.

“Mrs. DeVil!” Zim spat out her name like it was poison.

BAM!

Zim let out a war cry as kicked down the door.

“RELEASE Y/N! RELASE THEM OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF ZIM!” Zim commanded as he snapped a finger in Mrs. DeVil’s face.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll release Y/N. Just give this note to Ms. Shelly and they’ll be all yours.” Mrs. DeVil. snarled as she handed him the ransom note.

“Me?! Do your dirty work?! You dare tell Zim to carry out your HORRIBLE BIDDING?!” Zim roared as he nearly crumpled up the note.

“Well, if you don’t then we’ll just keep Y/N forever and ever.” Mrs. DeVil cooed mockingly.

Zim let out a growl as his body shook. As much as he wanted to annihilate that pathetic excuse for a teacher, he didn’t want to get in anymore trouble. If he acted up one more time, he might get expelled! Then he’ll never see you again!

“GRAARGH! Fine! I shall deliver this note but you must keep your end of the deal, teacher drone! Don’t worry, Y/N! I promise I’ll get you free of your chains!” Zim announced dramatically as he held up the note.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just get going already. We’ll just keep Y/N nice and safe here until you get back.” Mrs. Devil huffed as she shoved Zim out the door.

Zim rushed off to Ms. Shelly as fast as his legs could take him.

“Zim, slow down!” Ms. Shelly ordered.

However, Zim was too frantic to hear her. He jumped onto a nearby desk.

“Ms. Shelly-drone! Ms. Shelly-Drone! Y/N has been captured!” Zim shrieked as he waved the ransom note in front of her face.

“Zim, calm down! And get off of the desk!” Ms. Shelly commanded as she pointed to the floor.

Zim huffed as he hopped off the desk and shoved the ransom note into Ms. Shelly’s hands.

“That HORRIBLE! Mrs. DeVil has captured Y/N! She said she’ll only give them back if I gave you this note! Quickly, read it! Read it so that I can-”

“Woah! Woah! Just calm down, Zim Mrs. DeVil wouldn’t capture anybody. I’m certain this is all a misunderstanding….”  Ms. Shelly trailed off as she slowly read the ransom note.

“Well? What does it say?!”

The sound of Zim’s frantic voice woke Ms. Shelly from her thoughts.

“Oh! Well, it says that Mrs. DeVil’s class wants candy in exchange for Y/N but…We don’t have any candy…How about you give her some stickers instead, Zim?” Ms. Shelly offered as she gestured to her sticker drawer.

Zim gave a salute, grabbed the stickers and rushed back to Mrs. DeVil’s room.

“Wow, your boyfriend sure is taking a long time, Y/N. I bet her probably forgot all about you.” Mrs. DeVil. chuckled as she pretended to look at her watch.

“First off, Zim isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just my friend who’s a boy. Second, he would never forget about me! He’ll come back to recuse me! I know he will!” You seethed as you rattled your chair a bit.

“Suuure he will..”’

BAM!

As if on cue, Zim burst down the door once more.

“I have returned with your precious stickers! Now release Y/N!” Zim commanded as he held the stickers above his head.

“Zim! See, I told you he’d come back for me!” You cheered.

“Sure he came back but we didn’t ask for stickers, did we?  Last I checked, we asked for candy, right class?” Mrs. DeVil snarled.

However, her class didn’t say a word.

“Right class?!”

Still no response.

Mrs. DeVil whipped around to find her students fawning over the brightly colored stickers.

“Ugh! Fine. We’ll take the stickers I guess…”

And with that Mrs. DeVil untied you and plopped you onto the floor.

The moment you were freed, you rushed into Zim’s arms.

“Oh Zim! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Tears of joy spilled from your eyes as you clung to Zim for dear life.

“Dry your tears, Sweet Y/N. Zim has set you free from the wicked Mrs. DeVil,” Zim whispered as he wiped away your tears with his thumb, “Now, come sweet Y/N! Let us return to our rightful classroom!”

And with that, Zim threw the stickers to the ground and lead you out of Mrs. DeVil’s classroom.

Mrs. DeVil’s students frantically clamored for the fallen stickers as Mrs. DeVil watched you and Zim leave.

“Stupid brats.”

[chaoticneutralwriter]

The Grinch Who Stole New Year

You no longer like Christmas, you love Christmas. But perhaps it was still your heart that grew three sizes before the end of the year.

guardiandemon!Jimin x reader

genre: slice of life, supernatural, fluff, comedy

word count: 4.4k

A/n: You know me, I never get stuff out on time LOLL But to make up for it, I tried to do a mash up of the two big holiday/season into this one drabble. Hope everyone’s had a great holiday and a happy New Year! 2019, let’s get this bread. Forewarning; it’s half unedited so....asfsdkgh

 December 31st

 “You look awfully happy.” Jaehee comments from the kitchen threshold. You glance up only briefly, not bothering to hide the dopey, wide smile you currently have. It makes Jaehee laugh before she asks, “Is it the guy you told me about?”

 You sputter, nearly knocking out the lone ear bud you’re wearing with how you jostle your laptop to indignantly squawk, “As if!” You take a hold of your laptop and turn it just slightly to show her your paused screen, cooing affectionately as you say, “It’s my boys.”

 “Oh.” She drags out the sound and rolls her eyes playfully, “Should’ve known.”

 You grin back at her before continuing where you left off. Curled up on the sofa with the fluffiest blanket, sipping one of your favourite white wines, you’re watching your copy of BTS’ Seasons’ Greetings 2019 on your laptop. Sure buying it might’ve put a rather large dent in your wallet but in your defense, it was deemed to be your Christmas present to yourself. Plus, in your opinion, it’s worth every penny. 

 “So what happened to the guy then? Did you ghost him or something?” Jaehee calls out again, coming to settle on the other end of the sofa where your feet haven’t reached.

 “Oh… him.” You reply offhandedly, paying more attention to the conversation the group was having on screen but at the thought of…. him, you can’t help the snort that comes out of your mouth that isn’t entirely because of BTS’ antics.

 Oh, Jimin…. Well, your demon version of Jimin…. 

 You can’t say you feel completely sorry for him because ever since the season to be jolly had crept closer and closer, he had become more and more like a mixture between the Grinch and Grumpy Cat and while it should’ve made you a little apprehensive of his temper, you were absolutely loving it.

 -

 12 days before Christmas

 “On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” You find yourself singing as you work on stringing the Christmas lights up so that they frame your living room windows. You stand back to admire your handy work, still humming the song and you can’t help the giddy wiggle when you see how perfectly the lights twinkle in rhythm.

 “You bought more lights?” A begrudging voice sounds from within the darkened depths of your room. You turn and the grouchy mood your room invader has does nothing to dampen your own high-spirited one. In fact, his appearance looks too much like a certain grumpy house cat that even his glowing ruby eyes doesn’t detract the image. It makes you choke back a giggle, which seems to make him bristle (much to your delight).

 “Don’t you know that you can never have enough lights?” You make show of reprimanding him as if you’re an over-enthusiastic grade school teacher, hands on either side of your hip and head slightly tilted. He glares harder at you and you think this is the perfect chance to rub it in his face more. “And guess what else I got?”

 You whirl around to reach into your shopping bag and pull out your two additional purchases, shaking them excessively in both hands with excitement and a shit-eating grin stretching so wide you feel your cheeks starting to hurt. “Santa hats!” And they’re not just any old, normal looking ones. They’re red sequined and they jingled.

 “You’re disgusting.” is your only response before he promptly slams the door shut to your room. But you can’t be bothered, too busy cackling to yourself from his reaction. You’re honestly living for how much your demon guardian is loathing the holiday season. Before, you can barely get him to stop popping up at the most inconvenient times, claiming it to be ‘watch duty’ (when really it’s just to annoy you and give you a heart attack for his own amusement) but ever since Christmas started to loom around the corner, he’s gone reclusive, avoiding the outside world like the black plague was on the loose. 

 Needless to say, you were ecstatic. You could finally meet up with your friends without having to look over your shoulder or become too distracted because he thinks it’s funny to do outrageous things under the invisibility spell (you’ll never forget the time he decided to make balloon animals two seats away from you, all the while keeping the most stoic face you’ve ever seen). 

 So it’s no surprise that you’ve decided to take full advantage of this new discovery, going to lengths you never had before in a way to get back at him. To be honest, you weren’t even that big on Christmas, doing the bare minimum in the past to celebrate the holiday but thanks to him, you’ve gone all out in the decorating department and it only seems to fuel your enthusiasm (so no, you wouldn’t call it being completely petty; just more festive).

 A most wonderful time of the year indeed.

 You toss the Santa hats onto the couch, taking the moment to step back and admire your entire setup. The tree was up and filled with ornaments on nearly every branch you can hook, standing in a corner by the sofa, blinking prettily with it’s many lights, complete with a faux fur lined tree skirt. More lights were pinned just above the sofa and along the small bookshelf while garlands and wreaths were placed on your front door, above the kitchen threshold and the railing outside of your entryway. The magazines on your coffee table were tucked underneath in favour of the poinsettia candle-holder centrepiece, complete with faux self-lit candles.

 And although you don’t have a fireplace, it didn’t deter you from buying stockings to hang just below the TV stand (I mean, if you turn on the fireplace channel, it could still work right?)

 Overall, you’re quite happy with your little home makeover. Your place looks exceptionally decorative and you get a kick out of annoying your demon house cat for once. Two birds with one stone.

 -

 2 days before Christmas

 “What is that?”

 “What’s what?” You ask innocently, biting your lip to hold back a snicker as you pretend to busy yourself in fixing the holly you’ve got in your hands. You can practically feel the temperature drop behind you from the sofa but you’re perfectly warm in your oversized ugly Christmas sweater.

 “That!” He hisses. You spare him a glance but his gaze is so fixated on the little ceramic figurine on the coffee table that you actually think he might set it aflame.

 “It’s Mary and Joseph and the newborn king, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; gosh I thought you of all beings would know them?” You flippantly reply, having to turn away again to hide the smile that’s starting to creep up on your lips. 

 “I do but I also know for a fact that you’re not even Christian. So why do you have this here!?" 

 “Jesus loves everybody and it’s not exactly them, it’s a very abstract depiction of them. And besides, it’s a nice candle holder that says Noel so calm down.” 

 You hear angry muttering and then a huff, making you sneak a peek only to nearly burst out laughing at the pout he’s sporting. You have to admit, it’s adorable but only because he looks like Jimin. He turns to you and you can’t help the corner of your mouth from twitching. Your Jimin clone raises a finger, pointing at you as his expression turns accusatory, comically so.

 “You did this on purpose.” 

 “Did what?” Your voice comes out in a higher pitch because you’re trying so hard not to laugh but also because you’re clearly lying through your teeth.

 “All of this!” He finally exclaims, like his week long pent up frustration is coming to head. “I can’t believe you would go along with the capitalism of this holiday, just to get back at me!” 

 “You’re a demon! I thought you’re supposed to encourage this sort of thing?”

 “There are many things I encourage…and this is definitely not one of them!” 

 “Oh c’mon, don’t act like you totally hate the holiday season; I’m not the one sneaking gingerbread cookies at two in the morning."

 A pause.

 And you smirk; gotcha.

 Yeah, there was no way you wouldn’t have noticed that every time you decided to bake some holiday treats (for the household and your workplace), the portion left for home would mysteriously disappear at an alarming rate. You knew for sure you didn’t eat any because you literally had your fill when they were fresh out of the oven. Jaehee didn’t really like gingerbread cookies nor sweets for that matter but she indulged you and had the bare minimum.

 So doing the math for that wasn’t too hard and if the deep crimson blush Jimin had on was anything to go by….

 “So what? I had like two…” He says defensively, crossing his arms. You let a snort go, turning back around to fiddle with the fake holly berries. 

 “Sure…whatever helps you sleep at night.”

 “Demons don’t really sleep.”

 “Ugh, you know what I mean.” You roll your eyes, finishing up and stalking back towards the kitchen again. “Anyways, I’m gonna go make some cookies since someone keeps eating all of them before I can leave any out for Santa.”

 “He’s not even real!”

 “I don’t want to hear it!”

 Safe to say that your chewy chocolate chip cookies turned out fantastically, you think they’re good enough to open your own bakery even. Once the tray cooled, you take three for yourself and a glass of milk, heading back into your room. You take a quick a glance in the living and find that your demon guardian has vanished. You shrug, kicking open your door and get settled in for a little movie night in bed.

 The next morning, you find the tray more than half empty.

 “Oh wow, chocolate chip cookies. You should really open up a shop, Y/N. You’ve got a knack for baking.” Jaehee comes up from behind you, peering over your shoulder. “Why’d you make so little? Just had a craving last night?”

 “Yeah…” was the only thing you can say in utter disbelief.

 That bastard.

 He could’ve saved you some to last the week.

 -

 Christmas Day

 Oh boy, you probably should not have drank that much. You’re regretting it deeply now as you stumble up the stairs after thanking your Uber driver and wishing them a happy holiday. The Christmas party your friend held was super fun, something that wasn’t too rambunctious like a frat party even though you're totally sloshed right now. It was a gathering of close friends and their dates but friends who definitely know how to party. The night started off rather tamed with the exchange of presents and pleasantries in catching up, eating and light drinking before the games started. 

 That’s when the drinks started pouring because games are fun but they’re even more fun when alcohol is involved (and anything can be turned into a drinking game if you tried hard enough). Coupled that with your fairly low tolerance and it’s no surprise that you’re about ready to fall asleep in the closest corner you can find. But no, you’re a trooper and you held on, even when Jaehee (who was no less sober than you), insists on going home with you. So after ordering you an Uber she deemed trustful (cancelling around five of them), she saw you off, not without demanding that you text her when you’ve arrived safely at home.

 You’re almost inside, fumbling with your keys and checking thrice to make sure it’s the right one before slotting it into the keyhole. As the door opens, you let out a loud noise of relief like you’ve just finished a marathon.

 “Goddammit….” You slur to yourself as you shut your door and nearly topple over in removing your boots. You fling them off after finding your balance on the wall, heaving yourself to the living room where you promptly collapse onto the couch, energy spent. Your head is pounding already as if your hangover is beginning to form even before your body has a chance to sleep it off but you still have so much to do; take off your jacket, text Jaehee, change your clothes, wash your makeup off, brush your teeth, drink some water, the list was endless but all your body and inebriated mind wants to do is to close your eyes and just rest here for a bit because this couch was so comfy…man, investing in those throw pillows and blankets sure was a good ide—

 “I don’t remember letting in a hobo.” 

 Through your curtain of hair, you blearily make out a shadow looming over you. Tossing your head back a bit more, you find an infuriatingly handsome face staring down at you, one that you want to punch but kiss at the same time.

 “Jimin…?” 

 “Yes, but not quite darling.”

 You frown, muddled mind sifting through information like dial up Internet before you make a noise of affirmation. “Not Jimin…English too good.” 

 You hear a breathy laugh as your heavy head lops to one side, too tired to hold it up any longer. A clicking sound, the kissing of teeth in a way you can only imagine a mother would do when scolding her child.

 “Someone’s indulged a little too much in the blood of Christ.” 

 In your head, you think you’ve formed words that sound something like ‘You don’t even like Christmas’ but in reality, it comes out half way before dying in a mumbling, incoherent mess. Your head continues to pound to the rhythm of your heart and as you close your eyes, trying to will it to go away, you very nearly drift off when you feel a tug at your arm. You make an attempt to swat at it but fail miserably, giving up because you don’t have the energy to care.

 “I don’t get paid enough for this….” You faintly hear as you’re suddenly lifted into strong arms and the familiar scent of vanilla and lavender invades your nose.

 “Mm…So strong…” You giggle drunkenly, head burying against the soft cashmere sweater he’s wearing. A groan rumbles against your ear before you’re unceremoniously dumped onto the fluffy comforter of your bed. You whine loudly at being jostled, blindly rolling to your side in an attempt to sit up. A firm hand stops you from straight up falling out of bed.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “Mm’face is dirty…”

 “Don’t worry, you rubbed half of it off on my sweater anyways.”

 “Jimin…!” You whine petulantly, a hand stretched out as if you could summon a cleansing wipe if you thought hard enough. Even drunk you refuses to go to bed with makeup still on your face; imagine the mess it’ll leave on your pillows!

 A loud sigh and before you know it, you feel the dampness of one of your cleansing wipes in your outstretched hand. You take it with a grunt of appreciation before slapping it onto your face and begin rubbing it in the best way you think you can get the makeup off. You try to be strategic about it, going by sections of your face but eventually, you keep forgetting if you’ve went over the area or not. You end up wiping your face for a good fifteen minute straight.

 “I think you missed a spot.”

 You let out another grunt, loudly, tossing the wipe in the direction you hear his voice coming from, “Shuddup.”

 The wipe doesn’t come close to reaching his stupid handsome face like you wanted it to, it lands rather pathetically at the edge of his knee, right where the rip in his jeans were. Still, he takes it and effortlessly sends it flying to your trashcan.

 “Finished?”

 “Mm.” You hum, snuggling into your pillows before letting out a content sigh through your nose. You feel the covers tuck a little closer to you, the weight lifting from your bed and your hair being brushed out of the way. 

 “Now stay, and sleep.” 

 “Mm…Merry Chris…Nn—Merry Holiday, Jimin.” You mumble sleepily, drifting off finally though for a split second, you could’ve sworn you heard a “Merry Holiday” in return.

 The next morning, you wake up with a splitting headache that renders you incapacitated for half the day. When you did have enough strength to get up, you’re pleasantly greeted with a steaming mug of peppermint tea (the one with cute little snowflakes on it) and a pack of painkillers.

 Jaehee’s door was still shut, no doubt she’s either still passed out in sleep or she might’ve spent the night with her date so it’s with a half-hearted reluctance that you accept who could’ve done this. Nevertheless, you gratefully take the tea, cradling it in your hands as you make your way over to the couch. Settling down on the plush seat, you go to reach for the remote on the coffee table, only to notice one minor detail.

 Your little Noel candle holder was missing.

 You could only let out a sigh. In truth, you’re not even mad.

 -

 Present day

 “You sure you don’t want to head over to Jisoo’s? We can stay only until the countdown is over.” Jaehee asks once again as she straightens her sequin dress.

 “Nah, I think I’ve maxed out my social metre for the year in just this past week alone.” You laugh, stretching your arms over your head before settling back down again, cradling the laptop perched on your knees. You’re halfway done the season’s greeting DVD and you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself where you are.

 Jaehee acquiesces, adding a couple of finishing touches to her look, giving you a twirl and you giving her your seal of approval in return. She throws on her jacket just as her phone goes off, signaling her dates’ arrival to pick her up. Jaehee bids you farewell, wishing you a happy new year beforehand as she slips through the door. You brief chill from outside reaches you and you bring the throw over blanket closer to you, resuming your video.

 Throughout the entire time, you’ve got a smile stretched wide across your face. You can’t help it; BTS does that to you. Even when the DVD comes to a finish, you’re still left with the faint feeling of happiness and utter adoration for them and honestly, it kind of makes you care even less that you’re spending your New Year by yourself.

 So with a content sigh, you eagerly fill your glass again, wiggling happily as you settle further into the cushions to continue perusing the Internet. Now this is what you call self-care.

 “You look crazy.”

 You resist the urge to groan aloud.

 “Well, look who decided to crawl out of their bat cave.” You decide to shoot back sarcastically as you glance up just in time to see him emerge from the darkness beyond your living room. The way he strides towards you makes it look like the shadows had melded to his form and given shape to his clothing as well; all black but looking rather cozy to your surprise; a simple black hoodie and sweatpants, the comfiest and most casual you’ve seen him. The change is startling and makes your heart palpitate a little, though you brush it off as the wine working its way into your system.

 “And I see you still have those obnoxious decorations up.” He looks disdainfully at the numerous Christmas lights still strung up and around the space, crinkling his nose a bit. “When are you gonna take it down?”

 “When I feel like it.” You deadpan, going back to search up the latest performance video.

 “Do you want me to burn it down for you?”

 That causes you to snap your gaze up, eyes narrowing in warning. “Don’t you dare.”

 All you’re met is a devilish smirk, eyes challenging before he turns and seats himself on the opposite side of the couch, preening. You only puff up in annoyance but then forgo getting worked up over the light bantering. It’s a common occurrence between the two of you now; a strange, love-hate, dynamic that though you may yell and complain about how much you find him absolutely irritable, a very, very, very deep part of you admits that he’s grown on you…. like a rash.

 “So are you really just going to spend the remaining part of your year binge watching BTS related content, drinking wine?” You hear him ask. You spare him a glance over the top of your laptop, finding him doing the same except he’s scrolling through his iPhone X (which you have no idea how he even got). He’s got the judge-y eyes but you see the underlying teasing glint in them that only causes you to roll your own.

 “We’ve been over this; the only thing that can melt my glacial heart now is seven beautiful and talented Korean men whom one of which, might I reiterate numerous times now, you stole their identities to.” 

 “Details, details.” He says unconcernedly, making show of stretching his neck and working out the kinks. “Ever heard of how there are actually at least six people in the world that look almost exactly like you? So it’s not that big of a deal.” 

 You could only shake your head (because low-key yes, he’s right but you won’t admit it), opting take a generous gulp of your wine.

 “Careful darling; wouldn’t want a repeat of six days ago.”

 “Hey at least I didn’t throw up on you.” You say defensively, cheeks heating up slightly when you recall what he said you did after getting home from the Christmas party (as payback, he made you hand-wash his sweater). You set down your glass to pour yourself more wine, feeling him watching with eyes piercing though that does not deter you at all (you will assert your dominance here). He scoffs but does nothing to stop you from filling your glass three-quarters of the way and taking another sip so you take it as a small victory in proving that you’re right. 

 It continues on like this; a comment made here and there, some back and forth before you both settle rather comfortably, just sat across from each other in actual companionable silence. You’re halfway through your bottle before you had the conscious to stop, feeling the buzz hitting you in growing waves. By then, you’ve settled onto browsing through your phone, much like how he’s doing right now but even after a few minutes, you had to rest your head against the back of the couch, too tired to keep it up. The strength in your hands is the next to go and soon, you had to resort to taking mini breaks in between. 

 It gives you the chance to really look at Jimin, or more like this entity that has taken the form of Jimin. You take in the way the lights bounce off of his face; all soft yet sharp angles at the same time, the way his lashes flutter at the tops of his cheeks when he blinks, and the dainty mole right at the edge. You see how the dangling silver earring catches the light at the slightest movement of his head, but also notice the helix stud that is shining as well. It’s such a small detail, however one that you find most profound; the real Jimin doesn’t have a helix piercing anymore.

 Now, as the more you look, you’re starting to find other things that the real Jimin would have that the one in front of your doesn’t; like the faint dusting of freckles you would see when real Jimin isn’t wearing makeup and when the Jimin in front of you brushes his hair back from his forehead, you don’t see the moles that should’ve been there. 

 Half of you thinks that this shouldn’t be that big of a deal, given that a major difference between this Jimin and the real one is that he’s fluent in English (and you have a sneaking suspicion other languages too), but there’s just something about actually seeing the differences physically now with your own eyes makes you feel….

 “Your eyes are going vacant darling; is it way past your bedtime?”

 His voice snaps you from your thought and the familiarity of it in contrast to what you have discovered seems all the more jarring. You blink to focus, the spitting image of the idol coming back into your view.

 “I’m not old enough to start falling asleep before the countdown happens.” 

 “But you are old enough to miss it completely.” Jimin’s voice is laced with hints of laughter bubbling at the edges but his remark makes you whip your phone up to your face, checking the time to see that indeed it’s 12:01. 

 Well, damn.

 The laugh he’s no doubt been holding back finally bursts out, a raspy sound that’s just the slightest bit airy. It’s probably from the look of utter disbelief on your face but you don’t really care, eyes too transfixed on the way he’s thrown his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing and after he calms down to just grinning do you see— 

 That his teeth are perfectly straight.

 “I guess we should say, 'Happy New Year’ yes?”

 He’s smiling at you so brilliantly, eyes almost turning into crescents as they twinkle at you with this boyish charm, cheeks rounding a little more the same way that Jimin had made your heart stutter. It makes your own smile tug onto your lips, and you have half the mind to marvel at how easily swayed you are by him.

 This Jimin, that is so like him—

 Yet not at the same time….

 The feelings tug at your heart again, except this time you think you might be able to pin what it is.

 You feel…. relieved.

 But for what?

 Your smile falters for a split second at the revelation, but you swiftly pull yourself together, covering up by reaching for your forgotten wine glass. It’s empty, however you raise it all the same to him.

 “Happy New Year.” You breathe out softly as if you’re afraid to disturb the peaceful atmosphere between you two, all the while the words have you feeling like a small weight has been lifted from your shoulder.

 He smiles in response and for a split second; his face softens almost endearingly as he replies to you with an equal softness in his voice, “Happy New Year.”

 In the quiet of your living room, with only the twinkling lights of Christmas past, you find you're less alone than you would be welcoming in the New Year.

 And somehow, you don’t quite mind that it’s thanks to him.

 -

  Bonus

 “You owe me a new Jesus candle holder.”

 “…How about no?”

New Year, and he’s still insufferable. It was worth a shot.

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 116: Gem Heist

“We won’t stand out if we play the roles we were made for.”

There’s nothing like a good heist. You’d think a plot with such a consistent formula (build a team, go over a plan, execute the plan and adapt to its inevitable failures) would get stale, but consider for a moment that Inception and Fast Five premiered within a year of each other, and are both heists following the same general beats, but they’re fully different experiences. I’m not gonna say which one is better, but only one of them has a car chase where a car is chained to a giant safe and uses it like a wrecking ball, so.

In some ways, Gem Heist drops the ball on what I want from a heist: there’s barely a planning stage, and the team is already together, so it’s all about the execution and the wrenches thrown at our heroes. But while it’s hardly the caper I hoped for from the title, I can’t help but admire how it takes the tropes associated with heists and uses them to comment on Gem society.

A heist is all about specialists with clear jobs. Safecrackers, getaway drivers, demolitions experts, con artists, the whole point is getting a bunch of talented people who are each essential to the group. This element is only briefly touched upon in the traditional sense in Gem Heist, with Steven referring to Pearl as “our hacker,” but in its place, our heroes must succeed by putting themselves into the very roles they escaped by becoming Crystal Gems. Sapphire is a wise advisor and Ruby a disposable bodyguard, and the two must be separated. Amethyst must be huge. Pearl must be lowly servant. And Steven, who can’t exactly take the leadership position of his Gem parent, must play the dumb human.

This conceit drives the episode and makes it unexpectedly solid in terms of characterization, given how bland its plot ends up being. This is basically an episode about walking through a hallway, and instead of a third act we just get two minutes transitioning Steven to the Zoo that could’ve been spent in our next episode (or heavily cut). Even Adventures in Light Distortion feels more meaningful from a sheer plotting standpoint, and that was literally just getting the Crystal Gems from Point A to B. But because of how fascinating the characters are to watch when forced into the positions they’d be stuck in had they not rebelled, I’m able to enjoy what would otherwise be a slog of an episode.

The surprise lead of Gem Heist is Sapphire, who takes charge of the situation right away and finally shines on her own. Ruby got a head start in Jailbreak in terms of screentime, and takes up more room when the two are together thanks to her louder personality, and has a whole squad of counterparts to define herself against, so I love seeing a focus on Garnet’s quiet half. 

Sapphire’s serene baseline is portrayed so well by Erica Luttrell that she’s often played comically straight (her casually agreeing to call Steven “Esteban” is a great example here), but we already know from Keystone Motel that she’s more than just her calmness. It’s great to see her lose her cool so early in the episode, putting up a confident front while planning but getting frazzled with its inevitable failure before the team even disembarks. I wouldn’t quite call her a ham in the way Ruby and Peridot can be, but her overacting while narrating her activities to warn her friends of danger is wonderful. And of course, she gifts us with the universe’s cutest wink.

Charlyne Yi always brings a lot to the table as Ruby, and while she’s had more to do than Luttrell after Hit the Diamond, this is the first time since then that she’s voiced our Ruby. The line of the night is her furious declaration that Blue Diamond “hates fusion and love?”—it’s such a horrible thought that Ruby treats it like a question rather than a statement, because how hating something as good as love even possible? Still, Ruby’s bigger highlight is all in the animation as she runs up a locked door, claws at it while screaming, and admits defeat when this doesn’t immediately work.

Pearl also benefits from the visuals, which portray her humiliations in ways Deedee Magno Hall can’t in the moment due to her needing to be quiet. Which isn’t to say Magno Hall doesn’t do a lot with what she’s given, going from embarrassed and deferential around Holly Blue Agate to pissed off while alone with the Crystal Gems. And while Amethyst is the first Crystal Gem to go, Michaela Dietz picks up the baton from Yi and Magno Hall to play other amethysts; it’s neat to hear her turn down the playfulness for gruffness without completely removing the prankster edge from her voice. And what we do see from Amethyst is a reasonable amount of nervousness around a first encounter with her peers, which pays off wonderfully in That Will Be All (as does the actual sentence “That will be all” that Pearl will soon get the chance to redirect).

Steven is surprisingly low-key here, all things considered, but I suppose with all the focus he gets in the first two episodes of this arc, as well as our next one, it makes sense to look more deeply at the Gems; after all, they’re the ones who were born into an oppressive class structure that they must temporarily return to (give or take an Amethyst, but she still has plenty of issues stemming from societal expectations). He’s got some decent jokes, and dominates the last part of the episode when separated from the Gems, but the last part of the episode is so boring that I don’t really care. 

Still, none of these characters would have the chance to shine without Holly Blue Agate, who comes in hot and seems physically incapable of chilling the hell out. Christine Pedi voices Holly in just two episodes of the original series, but boy does she know how to leave a mark. After seeing Homeworld loyalists from the bottom of the totem pole in Peridot and the rubies, a Homeworld loyalist who’s a known hero in Jasper, and two leaders of Homeworld in Yellow and Blue Diamond, we encounter perhaps the worst kind of zealot: middle management.

Holly Blue Agate is the Dolores Umbridge of Steven Universe. She’s not given the stage to become main villain material, but she sure knows how to be the most detestable kind of miniboss we could hope for. She’s a shameless sycophant whose worship of Gems she considers superior is matched only by her disdain for those she sees as beneath her, but because she actually has some authority, she’s able to be far more tyrannical than the likes of Peridot. She’s hardcore lawful evil on the classic alignment chart, but if we allow for variation to the classics, I’d consider her more petty evil than anything.

With one character, we personify the entire toxic class structure that the Crystal Gems were born to defy. And with every word, Holly Blue proves that our heroes were correct to abandon this caste system. She’s flippant in her physical abuse, and wears her bigotry as a point of pride, taking glee in enforcing the inferiority of every Gem around her but Sapphire, who earns the same kind of swooning she applies to Blue Diamond. This is all performed under the thin disguise of politeness, because again, this is Umbridge we’re dealing with. She yells that there’s no yelling allowed, then gets mad when an amethyst corrects herself by being too quiet. She either pretends to not understand human speech or genuinely doesn’t get that Steven is talking (I could get into a whole thing about the necessity of an unrealistic translator for the Gems, but first off they’re magic so unrealistic things are fine, and second off what’s clearly more important here is Holly’s attitude).

It’s almost a shame we don’t get more of Holly Blue, because she may be loathsome, but she’s the compelling kind of loathsome that makes an excellent villain. Aquamarine is similar in feigned sweetness and cruelty, but Holly lacks that Cartman-inspired awareness of how miserable she is, which makes her less extreme and more relatable to real-life monsters in our daily lives who are blind to their own awfulness. At least she gets one more episode to be horrible and receive some decent comeuppance for her behavior in Gem Heist.

As I’ve said, the actual story here is pretty dull. We get some hints at lore, as it’s now pretty clear that the Era 2 referred to by Peridot was separated from Era 1 by the death of Pink Diamond. We get further indirect characterization of Blue Diamond with Holly Blue Agate’s praise and Ruby and Sapphire’s scorn. And the final sequence, while feeling tacked on, at least gets some neat usage out of what looks like the same tech as Peridot’s gone-but-not-forgotten robofingers. But if not for the stark reminder of why the Crystal Gems’ ability to decide their lives is important, this would be one of the least consequential episodes of the series. Plenty of episodes have great characterization, this is Steven Universe after all, but most of those also bring more to the table.

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?

Second episode since Gem Harvest to feature the Floridoverse as the main promo, and while it’s a little unclear whether this is another Floridoverse promo where a new adult character is portrayed as a teacher (Holly’s uniform vaguely resembles Greg’s and Ruby’s) I’m gonna go ahead and hope the intent is for her to be a student because man, that vibe on a peer is in some ways even worse than on a superior.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Lousy plotting really knocks this one down, considering how great an actual heist could’ve been, but the character work barely scrapes this from an episode I don’t care about to one I enjoy. It straddles the line between Like ‘em and Enh, but I’ll be nice this time.

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist (barely!)

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[maknaesdancersrappers]

jaehyun + if by chance

i. baby dont like it

ii. does she know/she’s not me

song used: x

warnings: swearing / explicit words, unedited

a/n: y’all asked for ONE LAST installment for this and i’ll make it lengthy so it could be worth your time and read ((and holy shit it’s at 6.4k))

-

Graduating from college meant a lot of things for you. It meant new beginnings; you’d move away from your parents to start working on your own, it meant being independent, it meant making new friends.

It meant leaving Jaehyun behind.

Ever since that night you had confronted him in front of his girlfriend’s home, you never talked to him again. Even when both of you were in your circle of friends, you paid him no attention. For some reason, his girlfriend stopped coming with him when your circle of friends got together but you honestly only noticed when Winwin innocently pointed it out. Maybe Jaehyun told her to back off and she decided to stop hanging out with them, but really, you don’t care.

He also never talked to you again, but there were times when you’d catch him approaching you, only to turn away when you see him or he would just look at you, as if he was debating himself or always hesitant with his moves, and you would move away from him, escaping whatever conversation he wanted to spark up.

It was weeks of avoiding and dodging chances of being alone together, but you were able to graduate with what you forced yourself to believe was peace.

It’s been a couple of years since you’ve graduated and you have been jumping from job to job to find one that suited you the most. Among the guy friends you had back in school, you only kept in touch with Yuta since he lived closest and worked in the same area where your apartment was. He would eat out with you from time to time, depending on your schedules.

You had recently gotten passed a job screening and orientation for all the new applicants would be today at 10 AM. Something in your gut told you this was the job you’d be sticking to and Yuta, who all of a sudden declared to be your new best friend (not that you were complaining since he was all you got in the city,) decided to treat you dinner after the orientation.

Before you could even worry about where to eat, you had to get ready for the orientation. You dressed simply, opting for a smart casual outfit with a ‘no makeup’ makeup look. The building was a 15-minute Uber away and you were there with a few minutes to spare before the call time.

The receptionist directed you to the conference room where 3 other new applicants were already seated and talking amongst themselves. You greet them and introduce yourself as you take a seat at the long table with them.

You learn their names to be Miyoung, Jangmi, and Sora, and as it turns out, they’re all roommates.

“Don’t worry, we’re not the type to ostracize people.” Miyoung shrugs when she catches your expression after learning they were already close friends.  “Who knows, maybe you’d click with the last applicant.”

“There’s one more?” You eye the empty seat in front of you. “Well, she’s not gonna make a good impression if she’s not here in the next minute.”

“Maybe she took her time with makeup, I know someone in this room did.” Jangmi side eyes Sora, who flips her off.

Just then, the door opens and your chest constricts. She is definitely not a she.

Your mouth goes dry a little; he looked more mature, features a little more defined and body thicker with muscles under the fitting clothes he wore. His cheeks and ears red with embarrassment knowing he was almost late and he sported those dimples, smiling when he greets the other girls, only to falter when his eyes met yours.

Jung Jaehyun had become a man since you last saw him.

But then you are reminded of all the tears you have cried because of him, the pain you’ve suffered for being his side chick; for being his second option, so you collected yourself, sat up straight and swallowed hard. You had to prove that you’ve moved on.

As the girls introduce themselves one by one, you were faced with two options: either you greet him casually like the old friend he is, or you pretend you never knew him and just hope to god that he plays along. You thought it was petty to choose the latter, but you end up choosing that option when Miyoung finishes her introduction and looks over to you.

“I’m [Y/N].” You keep your composure despite hurriedly saying your name.

He looks taken aback with your reaction, minutely frowning before giving a polite smile. “My name is Jaehyun.”

As the other girls animatedly talk to him, trying to make him feel welcome since he’s apparently the only male applicant, you busy yourself on your phone. You send consecutive stressed text messages to Yuta, still typing in proper grammar and punctuation despite wanting to abuse the capslock out of your phone.

He doesn’t reply, obviously, because he’s at work but you hope he checks his phone during his bathroom breaks.

Jangmi tries to rope you into the conversation, but luckily for you, the HR head enters the room and starts the orientation.

During the tour of all 18 floors of the building, you kept your distance from Jaehyun, tagging right behind the HR head while he lingers at the back of the small crowd. You could feel him staring at you and the only you can do about it is ignore him and pay attention to what the HR was talking about.

The orientation ended at the cafeteria where all of you had a free late lunch before being divided into the teams you were sorted into. You mostly stuck with Miyoung, who was generally clingy upon meeting you, while Jangmi kept Jaehyun company through random observations during the tour.

The five of you ate at one table, talking about random things until the conversation was about relationships. All three of the girls were apparently taken, with both Sora and Jangmi being engaged, while Miyoung had a slow relationship with her boyfriend.

“How about you, [Y/N]?” Miyoung nudges you with her shoulder.

Caught off guard as you saw Jaehyun’s eyes flicker down to your phone when Yuta’s face comes on screen for an incoming phone call, you blurt out, “Y-yeah! I’m, uh, seeing someone.”

“Is that him?” She peers over your phone and frowns when the call ends, “Oh no, he dropped it.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s just checking up on me.” You guessed he’s read the 20+ messages you left him.

“Yuta, was it?” She ponders for a moment, “Is he Korean?”

You shake your head, “No, he’s Japanese. We met in college but only got together after graduation.” You were surprised with how steady your voice was while lying and even more so the fact you weren’t cringing at the thought of having Yuta as a boyfriend. The whole time you told your little lie, you haven’t spared Jaehyun a glance in fear of his reaction.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Sora comments, taking a sip from her water bottle. “How about you, Jaehyun?”

“Ah,” He sighs, “I’m single.”

This made you finally look at him. There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he pushed the contents of his rice bowl around with his chopsticks, avoiding the curious smiles of the other three.

“I don’t believe it. A face like that can’t be single.” Jangmi shakes her head, to which he shyly laughs at.

“I’ve been single since I graduated college.” His voice trails off and his gaze is set on you.

It doesn’t take you long enough to understand what he was trying to silently tell you. Anger bubbled inside you all of a sudden. Was he suggesting he had broken up with his girlfriend because of you? Was that the reason why she stopped showing up during hang outs or parties? What was he trying to say, that he chose you over her?

“Do you plan to look for love here then?” You don’t even know who suggested that because Jaehyun’s answer made your ears ring and his affectionate, but melancholic gaze made you glare.

“I was hoping it would find me.”

You’re years late, you wanted to scream.

Your phone rings and you thank the heavens that Yuta was calling you. “Excuse me, it’s probably about our dinner reservations for our anniversary.” You say in one breath and this time, you actually cringed. Who on earth tells that much information in one sentence to a bunch of people they just met?

They all congratulate you, sans Jaehyun, who simply stared with an unreadable expression.

You thank them before picking up the call and hurrying outside.

Yuta was hounding you with questions before you can say hello and to shut him up, you just tell him straight away, “I told him we’re dating.”

“You wHAT?!”

You wince at his screeching, pulling your phone away briefly. “I’m just as disgusted, don’t worry.”

“Then why’d you say we were dating? Do you honestly think he’d believe that I, of all people, would be dating someone seriously?”

“Hey,” You scold, “You’ve changed since your fuck boy days back in college, you need to give yourself more credit.”

“He doesn’t know that!”

“Then prove it to him later if he sees you! Kiss my forehead or something when you pick me up.”

“[Y/N].”

You grimace at his tone. “What?”

“You said you moved on.”

“I know and I have, it’s just…” You groan, “The other applicants asked me about my relationship status before him and I assumed he was still together with her. I didn’t want it to seem like I’ve been single and depressed all my life.”

“You are.” He rudely cuts in.

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

“No, I have a dick. And it’s my best asset.”

“Ew. Don’t be gross. I’ll see you later, oh and by the way, today’s our anniversary.”

When you went back inside, it was just time for you guys to be sorted out into your respective departments.

And lo and behold, you were in Marketing with Jaehyun.

The Marketing department head was a nice man, had a wrinkled, eye smile, but still looked young.. “Nice to meet both of you, I’m Jungsu and I should have prepared for both of you to do something, but it’s been such a crazy week that it slipped my mind that I had to give you guys your daily task.”

“Well, we can help alleviate you from some the work?” You suggest and Jungsu hums at the thought.

“It’s a mundane task, but I need some organizing and filing of the documents we’ve accumulated. Are you two sure about doing that?”

Once you’ve assured him that both of you are willing and okay with it, he leads you to a room full of metal organizers and a table overflowing with manila folders and envelopes. Jungsu leaves with another apology and you pick up the first folder on top of the pille, scanning through the papers.

As you look around to find the cabinet it’s supposed to go into, you hear Jaehyun clear his throat.

“Yuta-hyung?”

You don’t look at him and continue your task, “Yeah. He was all I had when I moved out here.”

That struck Jaehyun inside his chest. “But he’s…”

“He was.” You defend, turning back to the table and picking out another document to sort.

In the corner of your eye, you see him move and look through a manila folder. It was silent after that and it was only what felt like half an hour later when he breaks it with, “Are you happy?”

The pile of papers on the table lessened, but there were still a lot to file. You look up from the folder you were reading to look at him for the first time since both of you started working in the room. He looked genuinely curious, eyebrows a little scrunched and lips formed in a straight line.

Were you happy? You know he was asking about being with Yuta and obviously you don’t have an answer to that since the apparently-year-long relationship was just formed in a measly minute. So opted to answer in context of how you have been without him, per se. You open your mouth to answer but shut it close immediately, realizing you didn’t have an exact answer.

Were you?

After you graduated and moved away, you convinced yourself it was because you wanted to start fresh and new. However in reality, you just wanted to move away from him. The years without seeing and hearing of him had helped you forget about him, thinking you had finally moved on.

But seeing him now, having him so close, you’re starting to think you never actually did.

“Yes.” You croak out when you’ve stretched out the time for you to answer for too long. “I am.”

He nods, “I’m glad to hear that.” and he gives you one of the most sincere, yet heartbreaking smile you have ever seen grace his face--or anyone, for that matter.

And it pinched your heart to see it, so much so that you turned away, walking to a cabinet and stuffing the folder you were just reading inside. You take a deep breath, scolding yourself for being affected by it.

Until the table was cleared and the last file was sorted, you and Jaehyun had not exchanged anymore words. The silence was bearable and there wasn’t really any tension in the air because when Jungsu came in to tell you guys you could go home for the day, he didn’t comment on the atmosphere he walked into.

You met up with the girls at the elevator and boarded it with Jaehyun. They also didn’t seem to notice anything strange between you and him, choosing to talk about the software they had to work with under the graphics team.

Yuta was already at the lobby waiting for you, mindlessly scrolling through his phone as he leaned against a column.

You see Jaehyun visibly tense up when he sees him, but you quickly run up to Yuta to even care why he reacted that way.

He sees you, putting his phone down but not really looked like he was all that excited until his eyes catch sight of Jaehyun. He flashes that smile he was always known for, throwing his arms around you for a hug. “Hello, love.”

“Gross. Don’t call me that.” You whisper into his ear as you hug him back, making him chuckle.

“If you want to sell this, than deal with it.” He whispers back, kissing your forehead like you told him to. “Let’s go?”

You nod as you let him lead you away. You didn’t look back anymore, but you were able to catch the one thing you didn’t want to see.

Jung Jaehyun’s disappointed face.

-

“I still don’t get why we have to pretend to be a couple.” Yuta grumbles before slurping on the ramen he had ordered. “This is a great way for you and Jaehyun to have closure.”

“What if I don’t want closure?” You twirling your chopsticks into the noodles.

“Then you’re basically admitting you haven’t moved on.”

You grimace at Yuta, hating the fact he was right. “But if you only heard him a while ago! Saying ‘I was hoping love would find me’ while staring right at me! Does he think after all these years, I would still be in love with him?”

“Well, aren’t you?” He scoffs and you kick his shin under the table, eliciting a yelp. “Ow!”

“You’re being a horrible boyfriend!”

“Because I’m better at being your best friend!” He scowls, “Aha! Maybe that’s something Jae and I have in common! Or,” He follows up, seeing your eyes narrow and fist tighten around your chopsticks, “Not! Look, if you want my honest opinion, give the guy a chance. Maybe not in love, but maybe become friends again? Where’s the harm in that?”

“I could fall in love with him all over again.”

“[Y/N], you can’t fall into something you haven’t fallen out of yet.”

And you promptly kick him in the shin again.

-

When you return to work the next morning, you were given a cubicle to work in and you were glad that your work station was at least 4 cubicles away from Jaehyun. You had a scheduled ID picture taking before lunch with the others and while waiting for that, you browsed through previous reports and researches on sales and advertising in the computer’s files. Before you know it, someone was tapping your shoulder.

It was Jaehyun. “Hey, they’re calling us for our photos to be taken.”

“Oh, okay.” You quickly put the computer into sleep mode before following Jaehyun out.

And that was the only conversation you two had for the entire day.

Every day after that, the only interactions you had were greeting each other a good morning or goodbye when it was time to go home. Even during lunch, neither of you would talk to each other and let the Roommates, as you now called them, fill the silence up.

You would notice how he’d stop eating when one of the Roommates ask you about Yuta and do your best not to stutter over your lie. It would seem you were doing a good job at it since he seemed so affected by it. You felt powerful, for some reason, maybe because you were finally letting him experience what you had gone through because of him. It was mean, you have to admit, but a large part of you believes he deserves it.

The days fly by and they turn into weeks, mundane tasks turn into gruesome paperworks that started to pile up day after day. But all of the hard work and working overtime was paid off during the first pay day.

The Roommates suggested to go out for a drink and you agree. Jangmi had managed to rope Jaehyun in and by eight o’clock, all five of you were seated in a dingy booth and ordering shots. You could hold alcohol well, but that doesn’t mean your mouth would coordinate. You were a talkative drunk, amongst other traits alcohol can bring out of you. Jaehyun, as you remember, holds alcohol the best among your circle of college friends. He was a quiet, happy drunk, and you’ll know he’s reached his limit when his face and ears are red.

As the Roommates gossipped about the happenings in their department, you catch Jaehyun lazily smiling at you.

“What?” You ask, suddenly feel conscious about your appearance.

“Nothing.” He shrugs, “I’m just glad we met again.”

You cast a glance at the Roommates, but they didn’t seem to hear him over the music and their own voices. “Okay.”

“I’m also glad Yuta’s changed and is keeping you happy.”

Your fingers twitch around the shot glass, lowering your head. “Thanks--”

“But,” He cuts you off, making you look up at him through your lashes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about--”

It was your turn to cut him off, but instead of words, you bolted out the booth and made a beeline for the exit, leaving some money on the table before leaving. You can hear them call out for you, Jaehyun’s voice absent amongst them, and you guessed it was better that way.

-

The next morning, you run into Jaehyun in the break room, getting coffee for the hangover you supposed both of you had.

“Good morning.” He greets, like always.

“Morning.” You whisper, taking your mug and filling it halfway with the coffee from the maker.

Jaehyun hands you the fresh milk he had previously used. “You still like your coffee with half of it with milk?”

You nod, preparing your drink.

And you think he’d let you be, but he starts talking again.

“[Y/N], about last night--”

“Can we not?”

“But--”

“Jaehyun.”

“I just want to be friends again.”

You stare up at him, watching his face contort in a frustrated frown.

“I just… I just want to be friends again with you.” His voice was soft. “That’s why I wanted to apologize.”

Your lips part to reply, but he’s beaten you by talking again.

“But if you don’t want to, I respect that and--”

“No, we can be friends again.” You say without thinking and he pauses.

“Really?”

You sigh to yourself, it’s not like you can take back what you said, so you nod your head. “Yeah.”

Jaehyun smiles, the kind that makes his eyes into crescents, his nose scrunch, and his dimples appear. The smile that made you smile. “Okay. Well, I have to summarize last week’s meeting for the new campaign. Here,” He hands you three packets of sugar. “These are the last ones in the cupboard.”

“Oh, thanks.” You stare at the packets in your hands before watching him leave. Your lips quirk into a smirk. He still remembers how you had your coffee: half milk with three servings of sugar.

Satisfied with your coffee, you walk back to your cubicle, seeing Jaehyun from his. He takes a sip of his coffee and winces, his reaction making you chuckle to yourself.

It was only when you sat yourself down did you realize he didn’t put sugar in his coffee so you could have yours like how you wanted it.

-

Just like that, your relationship with Jaehyun improved. You had your friendly banters again like before, but you can see him hesitating from time to time, probably because he was still under the impression that you were with Yuta.

Speaking of, Yuta had been elated with the news and demanded to be fake broken up with effective immediately, and like always, you responded with your middle finger.

After another month passes by and both of you were now well acquainted with most of the employees. Somehow, word got around that you were not single so most of the male employees kept their conversations with you at a professional, but friendly manner.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, was constantly flocked with female workers, even from different departments--from different floors. It was entertaining to watch because it reminded you of your school days with him. Watching all these girls fling themselves at Jaehyun when it was obvious he wasn’t interested. But at the same time, you felt bitter because the only reason why he didn’t entertain them back then was because you were entertaining each other.

So what was stopping him now?

-

Everything has been platonic between you and Jaehyun. He’s asked about meeting Yuta, but his schedule never matched any of yours and it just so happened he had to go back to Japan for a his sister’s wedding.

He asked if you were going to the company anniversary party and you said you were because it meant free food and booze.

“You really haven’t changed, [Y/N].” He laughs and you simply shrug your shoulders at him.

He offers to pick you up, but you turn him down. You had to run an errand for Yuta since he wasn’t at his apartment and someone had to feed his pets.

The party was held in a rented out club during Friday night, you were actually quite late because Yuta’s pets were way too playful and you had to clean up the mess they made.

When you finally arrived, almost everyone was drunk and jumping to the music. You wave at Miyoung, who seems sober, unlike her roommates who looked like they were just about pass out but still downed shots. She points behind you and you follow her finger.

Among a group of guys, which you recognized as the IT department, was Jaehyun, boisterously laughing while holding a bottle of beer. Even in the bad lighting, you could tell he was drunk with how dark his ears have become.

You approach the group and it was Jaehyun who greets you first.

“Hey! You made it!” He grins and you uneasily return it.

“Yeah.. are you… okay? Maybe you should stop the drinking?”

One of the IT guys, Jun, laughs, “This guy has some great tolerance with alcohol! He’s pushing himself to the limit.”

This makes you worry. “Hey, Jae, maybe you should stop.”

“Jae? Jae!” He howls, “I haven’t heard that nickname from you since college!”

Another IT guy, Wooseok, cocks his head, “You guys know each other from college?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Jaehyun beats you to it.

“College? Oh no, we go way back. We’ve been friends since we were in diapers. Heck, we were best friends!”

You’ve never seen Jaehyun this drunk before and it was scaring you for some reason.

“Man!” He hollers, “[Y/N] and I went through thick and thin together. She meant the world to me, but guess what? Ha! I had to fuck that up!”

“Jaehyun.” You try to grab his arm but he’s swaying around so much that he slipped through your grasp.

“I fucked our relationship up because I. fucked. her.”

You were frozen in place, ice cold dread flooding your veins. Even the amused smiles of the guys around him started to falter.

“Repeatedly!” He laughs, “And you would think because she just meant so much to me, I would make her my girl, but no! I went out and got myself a girlfriend for some stupid ass reason. And here’s the catch, fellas, [Y/N] and I still got it on behind my girlfriend’s back.”

Jun lets out a low whistle of disapproval.

At this point, you don’t even know how to react. You just stood there, staring at this man that looked like your best friend and had the knowledge of the past, but spoke nothing like him.

“Honestly, I was never even in love with my girlfriend-- my ex-girlfriend. Ah, she knew how to punch, seriously.” Jaehyun absentmindedly rubs his jaw. “I thought I could make things right with you, I-I didn’t know how but before I knew it, I was too late. You got Yuta, of all people, who makes you happy and I know it’s selfish but I pray everyday he would break your heart and have you run to me.”

You suddenly felt angry. Not at him, but at yourself, because what he was saying was true. You and Yuta might not be dating, but if anything happens, you would be running to Jaehyun. You wanted to respond to him. Scream at him. Anything. But you did what you always did best: you turned around and ran away.

-

It was the Saturday noon after the party and you were curled up on the couch, staring at the television.

You haven’t slept properly since you came home last night. You remember crying your eyes out before you can even open the door and stumbling around the house to get your clothes off. You tried to shower it off, the bad memories and the reopened wounds, but you still feel horrible inside.

The television was off. You never turned it on. You just stared at your reflection, the black tint of it all represented your mood. You’ve never felt so alone before.

You finally admit to yourself that you never truly did move on from Jaehyun.

You could have easily replaced him, now that you think of it. There were countless men that had flirted with you, some were decent enough and actually passed your standards, but you never got into a relationship, not even one hook-up since you graduated.

You always thought it was because you were waiting for the one, but now you were beginning to think you were actually waiting for Jaehyun.

You start to tear up again when you can feel your chest ache because you realize Jaehyun broke up with her to choose you even though you told him to choose her. It started to scare you just how deeply in love you are with, but just couldn’t swallow your pride long enough to accept it.

There was a knock on your door and you didn’t think much of it as you wipe your eyes before answering it.

“Please don’t close the door on me.”

You gripped on the doorknob and you swear your knuckles had turned white, nevertheless you stood still and looked at Jaehyun.

He was still in the clothes from the night before and he reeked of the alcohol he had consumed.

“And you don’t have to let me in, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” He starts off, “I remember everything I said to you last night. I know what I was saying, I just… I just couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” was your instinctive answer but he hushes you.

“No, it’s not okay. I embarrassed you in front of them and I’m fucking up our friendship all over again. God! I’m still so stupid.” He scolds himself, “I’m sorry about wanting Yuta to break your heart. I just… it’s selfish, but I wanted you to know that if he does, I’d be here for you, like… an option.”

You inhaled deeply, nodding your head to show you understood his words.

“I’m also really sorry about… before. I knew how I felt about you and I disregarded it, along with your feelings. I just thought you wanted everything to be physical between us so when I started falling for you, I had to express it elsewhere. That’s where she came in… and I thought maybe I would get serious with her because she’s the perfect description of the type of girl you’d bring home but she’s…” His voice trails off, “She’s not--She’s not you, [Y/N].”

“I don’t know how to respond to what you’re saying.” You quietly admit, casting your eyes downwards to your feet.

“You don’t have to. You can even forget about me telling you, I just had to get it off my chest.” Jaehyun sighs, “Well, I don’t want to hold you up any longer. I probably ruined your day by being here. I’ll get going now.”

You glance up at him when he hasn’t moved after saying he’d go.

“I-I just… I meant what I said before.” He clears his throat. “I’m really am glad that Yuta makes you happy.” He halfheartedly smiles before turning around to leave.

You shut your eyes, feeling a familiar pricking sensation, as your head pounded and chest constrict, “Jae.”

He stops halfway down the hallway and looks over his shoulder.

“Yuta and I…” You shake your head, allowing the tears slip down the corners of your eyes, “We’re not dating. We never were.”

It takes a moment for him to respond, a sad smile on his lips. “I know.”

“W-what? How?”

“I was your best friend, [Y/N]. I know you. I know when you lie.” He fully faces his body towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

A blush manages to find its way across your cheeks, “Then why didn’t you call me out on it?”

“I don’t know. I thought you wanted to show me that you didn’t need me to be happy; that you were fine without me and that you’ve moved on.” He shrugs, chuckling shortly afterwards, “I almost believed it at one point and it hurt, you know, but I guess I deserved that because that’s what I made you go through, right?” He watches you for a bit with a clear frown, “Why are you crying?”

If he hadn’t asked, you wouldn’t have noticed. Your tears had collected on your chin, some dropping to the floor while some continued down your neck. You try to tell him something but sob comes out instead. You crumble to the floor and within seconds, Jaehyun is holding you in his arms and asking you what’s wrong.

“It’s not fair.” You choke out, “It’s been years without any contact, I’ve cried so much because of you. It’s only fair that I keep you out of my life but I just find myself letting you back in.”

“If you want me to leave, then I’ll leave. I’ve hurt you enough.” He whispers into your ear.

“But I,” Your lips quiver, feeling defeated as you finally let go of your pride, “I miss you. Oh god, Jaehyun, I missed you so much.” You bury yourself into his arms, holding onto his shirt with a death grip as if he’d disappear if you held him any looser.

“Shh, I missed you, too. Please stop crying.”

And you honestly did try to calm yourself down, but everything was just so overwhelming. You’ve forgotten what it was like to be hugged by him, how incredibly sweet and comforting he was. When you moved out here for the first time, you felt so alone and all you wanted to do was call him up, but you had to stop yourself every time and end up crying on your bed. When you tried to go out and meet new guys, you’d recoil every time because none of them were your type; none of them were Jaehyun.

-

You jolt awake, gripping the pillow under your head. It was dark in your room and the only light source was the moon outside. Your foggy mind cleared up a bit and you remembered Jaehyun.

Was it all just a dream?

Your eyes felt raw from crying. Pushing yourself up, you sit on the bed, dazed and confused. Have you been asleep all day? Disappointment overcomes you. It had felt real, though. His arms around you, the sweet nothings he whispered to calm you down. But you guess your emotions have gotten the better of you and heavily influenced your dream.

It said it was one AM on your alarm clock and you begrudgingly got off the bed to grab a bottle of water in the kitchen. You don’t open any lights, knowing your way around your apartment anyways. It was small either way, with the kitchen open to the living room. You open the fridge and let its light illuminate the rest of the room, taking out a bottle of water and drinking from it.

You hear what sounded like a snore from behind you, whipping your head to the direction of where it came from. You see an outline of mass on your couch and you move to the side to let the refrigerator light shine on it. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you make out the person on your couch.

You rub your eyes to double check. Closing the fridge, you cautiously walked up to the light switch and turned it on.

Jaehyun’s head was lolled back, mouth agape as he snored. He was always a light sleeper so when the lights turned on, he immediately reacts. His head snaps up first, eyes screwed shut at the sudden brightness of his environment. He groans, rolling his head a bit before peeking with one eye and discovers you staring at him.

“You’re awake.” He shoots up, a knee hitting the coffee table in front of him. “I, uhm, well, you fainted from crying so hard that I tucked you in--!”

It only took a few quick steps for you to reach him and slip your arms around his waist. “Oh god, I thought I was dreaming. You’re here.”

“I, yeah… I didn’t think leaving you after you fainted was a good idea so,” You feel his hand smooth down your back while the other was on your shoulder.

“You stayed.” You pulled away to look up at him. “Thank you.”

He smiles, “You don’t have to thank me.”

The two of you stood like that for a couple of minutes, assessing what just happened and what is bound to happen, but there was hint of satisfaction beneath all that. The hand on your shoulder had moved to touch your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin as gently as he could.

“Why didn’t you sleep beside me?”

“It didn’t feel right. Besides, I went straight here after waking up in Jun’s apartment. My clothes were soiled and I hadn’t bathed.”

You cock a brow, “Is that why you smell like my detergent?”

He flushes, “I threw my clothes in the laundry while I took a shower.”

“So, you’re telling me that while I was passed out, you were parading around my apartment in a towel?”

“No, I didn’t know where your towels were.”

“Oh,” And now your dirty mind was filled with images of what you remembered how his body looked like, “Even better.”

“Stop, don’t even go there.” He lightly reprimands you. When he sees your confused expression, he starts to explain, “If I’m entering your life again, I’m going to treat you right--”

“You already know how to.” You interject, suggestively.

“[Y/N], please. I meant taking you out on proper dates and show you off as my girlfriend.”

It was your turn to blush, “I’d like that.”

He leans down and presses his lips to your forehead, “Then let’s take it slow. Give or take a couple of months.”

You pull away from him, “I am not waiting a couple of months to have sex with you. We can start tomorrow, don’t you like morning sex?”

“Ugh, I do.” He grumbles to himself before clearing his throat, “But no, next month.”

You can’t believe you were actually haggling how long to wait until you guys have sex again. “Next week.”

“[Y/N]! I don’t want to screw this up. I want to properly date you and--”

“You know, I’m not wearing a bra.” You casually interrupt him, his eyes shamelessly dropping to your chest as he stops mid-sentence.

“Yeah, sure, next week sounds good.” He breathes out.

Victoriously, you tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “It’s a deal then. But,” You take his hand, “Can we please cuddle and go to sleep? It’s almost two and I’m not letting you break your back on my couch.”

He laughs, agreeing to your idea and lets you lead him to your room. Once there, he lets go of your hand to remove his pants so he could comfortably sleep in his boxers while you climbed onto the bed. When he finally slips in beside you, he turns you over so your back was pressed against his front.

You quietly greet each other a good night before letting the silence take over.

-

a/n: aaand that’s the end pls don’t ask for more. but also, i had a lot of plots for this last installment lol i’ll be working on another Jaehyun request (smut) and a Doyoung request (fluff) tomorrow so watch out for those.

[head-hopping]

Years, part IX

What don’t talk to me okay. Previous chapters here. LOL

Madi don’t hate me anymore~

~~

Seven months later

The spring Carlotta arrived in Paris invariably altered to summer, then slipped quietly into fall. Her residency remained at the Mackintosh homestead, tucked securely within the guest room that at some point had gained a hint of her touch, the altered bedspread certainly not enough to claim a space, but she had become comfortable enough to make at least a little mark on her world.

It had taken time to reach that point, but even she took it as a step into the right direction.

That morning, after her arrival, had been a trying one. Carlotta could do nothing but thank whatever fortune she had left that Aisling actually approached her first, the young woman looking utterly contrite and ashamed for her lack of fortitude. That, naturally, stirred something within Carlotta, her own need to offer some measure of comfort, little though it had been. Though she held affection for her two nephews, Carlotta had actually tended Aisling after her birth, during the darkest hour of Colin and Erika’s then broken relationship. For Carlotta, those months with Aisling had been the only child-rearing she ever properly performed…

But that had not been the time for such thoughts.

“Aisling…” Carlotta had said, the weight on her unfeeling heart suddenly so heavy. She had taken the young woman’s hands in her own, squeezing tightly. “The only apology necessary is my own. I have…I have been tried, and there are many matters that came together to such a result.”

Aisling’s green eyes had expressed such trouble, looking between Carlotta’s own. “What matters could have brought about such a result?”

Carlotta had only smiled, as much as she could. “Matters that are of no consequence to a vibrant young lady as yourself. Do not carry them, Aisling. Please.”

“Alright…if you say so, Aunt Lotta.”

Though even then Carlotta could tell the cryptic nature of that conversation did not please Aisling at all, but nothing more of it need be said. Carlotta absolutely refused to pass that burden to the next generation, and if she could not have been rid of it with her own child, then she could certainly ensure Colin’s children never so much as heard a word of it.

Over the following weeks, Carlotta had been coaxed into the kitchen, as Erika was quite busy with nursing her youngest back to health. Carlotta found that she had not lost her touch for enjoyable meals, and the work with her hands became a means of forcing her mind off the past. Colin certainly appreciated it, as did Aisling and Elias, when the young man was around.

When Leonce finally awoke, Carlotta was finally able to meet him in more than just a few lines in an old letter. In fact, she took it upon herself to aid Erika now that the bearish mother could relax knowing her son would live through his ordeal. Through the nights, Carlotta would sit next to Leonce’s bed, quietly reading or stitching, fetching anything the boy needed if he woke in the night.

She could not help but notice, though, that Leonce was a bit younger than Lonzo, by more than a three years or so, and yet he’d gone off to join the navy, where he had earned wounds, and thus his illness that had not been fully taken care of by some mistake or another. He was a lively young man, though, even in his tired state. That smile no doubt looked quite fetching to all manner of young ladies, especially when in his uniform, even though he had been nothing but a cabin boy—or rather, in charge of the cabin boys, he made certain his aunt knew.

Perhaps it was the general atmosphere of the household that settled Carlotta in, or the sense of being useful that she in part craved, but a spark of her own life and livelihood budded tentatively within the Mackintosh household.

And during the summer, upon hearing of Carlotta’s residency in Paris, Fiona paid a surprise visit—though Carlotta suspected that Colin and Erika knew ahead of time. But to see her cousin flourishing with Thomas, her gentle nature actually nurtured and protected by a loving husband, this Carlotta nearly did not stand. And not in a negative, jealous, petty way—or so she told herself, but the emotion had been so fleeting that she could tell herself freely that it never happened at all—but seeing Fiona having bloomed into a beautiful wife and mother, it offered Carlotta yet another comfort to know that her family has escaped the hell that seemed to curse the DiRusso line.

Speaking of motherhood, though! Behind Thomas and Fiona trailed a sea of delicately redheaded children, six in all, all having come specifically for the purpose of meeting their aunt none have ever met.

It was…a bit overwhelming, to be perfectly honest, and the first night after their arrival, Carlotta wept quietly in her room, if only because it hurt to have the depth of her own heart touched back alive again. Like a jolt, a strike of lightning, Carlotta found it difficult to breathe, but her thanks for Fiona’s wonderful life could only be expressed with tears that no one saw.

Except, somehow, Erika saw. Somehow Erika saw a lot. Perhaps because such despair was familiar to the other woman. Except for a word, a gesture, in fresh cups of tea sitting on Carlotta’s nightstand before bed, the women tiptoed around one another, yet unable to break the strain of being strangers.

Carlotta had no intentions of going back to Italy, however, so they ought to have time for warming.

One sign of such? It arrived on Carlotta’s birthday, a day that has been of no real consequence to her for some years. A day that did not bother to remind of itself, save for the occasions when Carlotta happened to notice the date. But tonight upon her birthday, she found herself swept into an evening at the opera at the Palais Garnier. A place of beauty and talent, one once guided by her own hand.

As Carlotta ascended the steps, she gazed up at the face of the grand building, the gaslight lamps vividly illuminating the golden color in the evening darkness. Memory overtook her as soon as she stepped inside, of a lifetime ago while discussing business with patrons, dodging those who thought it their duty to run the little women, or at the very least run her off and give the managerial position back to a man. Late evenings of paperwork, or contending with the self-professed phantoms who at first cajoled to have their own way within these walls. One of whom married her cousin, and the other… Well, not even Erika was certain what might have happened to him. As her life pulled further and further from the opera house, so it did from him as well. However, Erika was almost certain that he discovered his own happiness, and with a dancer of all things.

In any case, as Carlotta approached the grand staircase, lit brightly for the evening event, she came to a stop in the middle of the noisy foyer, the slip of a smile somehow finding its way onto her expression. So much in her younger years revolved around this building…so much…

Her gaze dropped, turning to Erika, who stood close beside her, watching intently for any sign of another outburst of emotion. But Carlotta merely smiled a bit wider, reaching out to gently, and briefly, touch Erika’s arm.

“I am alright,” she assured the masked woman—a mask that blended into Erika’s skin color, helping her to blend without startle, as it was simply easier to venture out in this manner.

Erika smirked, a flicker of amused relief darting through her eyes. “Wonderful. I had hoped this would do you good, not harm.”

“Knowing that Elias will be playing this evening was more than enough incentive to chance the Garnier again.” Carlotta took a deep breath, seeming more at ease than she has in a long time. Edged, yes, and guarded, but willing to step out from behind those barricades more and more. Especially for tonight. “I must admit…I held some dread for stepping foot in here once more, but I am glad I did.”

Behind the pair of them, Colin slipped up, gently, and without thinking, touching both Erika and Carlotta at their backs, though his hand lingered only on Erika’s. His brows were raised as he leaned down a bit between them. “And how are we fairing this far?”

“Delightful,” Erika intoned with cheekiness. “But there is no need for both of us to hover like hens, Colin. You will suffocate Lotta and I.”

He scoffed. “Nonsense. I only wanted the privilege of escorting the two most lovely women here to our box. Ah—three,” he amended quickly as Aisling made some manner of strangled noise, appearing at his side and bumping into him.

“Da! Don’t be rude. Go on and say three. Aunt Lotta ought to be included in this lovely bunch.” And she grinned, winking at her aunt in a devilish manner that bespoke mightily of her mother.

“Oi, stop getting me into trouble!” Colin laughed, but sighed loudly. “Ach, it’s too late for that anyway. Shall we? Before I get let out into the cold?”

Twenty years ago doubtlessly Carlotta would have had a snappish remark without a thought, but now all she could muster was a closed smile, able to share in the amusement at least. Besides which, Erika’s comment sufficed, but Carlotta’s attention diverted suddenly as a slight chill touched her. She glanced back towards the front doors, suspecting that their loitering near the doors must have caught her in line with a gust of fall breeze floating inside. And that may have been part of the case, save for the thick shawl draped over her shoulders that had been more than adequate outside, let alone inside the warmed building.

Before she turned back to her family, however, she caught sight of someone peering in her direction as he stood closer to the opening and closing doors. Carlotta would have passed the man by, but the second jolt, this one accompanied by a surge of recognition, stole her breath.

Salvatore Barozzi, hand balanced perfectly on his cane, hat in hand, stared with naked shock in his expression as other patrons were forced to move around him in order to get inside. The looks they shot he obviously did not see, or even feel.

Not that Carlotta did much better. Colin and the rest might have left her behind, as she did not hear or see whether they called her.

What sort of alignment must have occurred to have them standing here tonight of all nights, in Paris, at the Garnier?