#ugly on purpose mess made at midnight

[artsarasp]

@ace-shenanigans said og!sqh had a religious experience into that last sqh 12/12 achievement comic so I made it into shitpost- Happy return home, original goods!

[mxyirin]

Yandere! Chuuya Nakahara

― 𝗨𝗣𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗪

▸port mafia's strongest fighter - chuuya nakahara

▸everyone knew him, everyone was wary of him

▸a god who kneeled in front of no one but one

▸[last name] [name]

▸an important executive in the mafia itself

▸a great ability with a great mind

▸you were the hidden gem among the double black

▸working through the shadows like your ability

▸though unlike dazai and chuuya who worked in the front lines, you simply preferred the security of the back

▸the comfort it brought you

▸ah, [name], the head of the financial department of the port mafia who also had a part in the intelligence section

▸a true ace

▸it was only natural chuuya would meet you

▸you were three years older than him and first met when he was sixteen

▸and for some reason, he couldn't help but feel this irreplaceable connection with you

▸it was cute to see someone follow you around but you had no interest in dating, not to mention he was sixteen while you were nineteen

▸you aren't leonardeo di caprio after all :)

▸rejection wasn't going to stop the ginger who had been rejected for his entire life ouch

▸either way, he was ready to woe you

▸he was determined and he was such a sweetheart

▸never forcing you to do anything you didn't want, putting you over him

▸you didn't accept him until he was twenty and you were twenty-three

▸it wasn't like you could do anything about your trust issues right? after all, you were in the port mafia

▸in the end, you did feel his genuine feelings for you and accepted him

▸did anything change?

▸perhaps not, perhaps...

▸every chance he would get, he would bring your favourite flowers all wrapped up nicely

▸take you to fancy restaurants and always made sure that the food was according to your taste

▸gifts were something you never lacked

▸it was his way of showing you affection while he craved affection in the form of words and action

▸and you didn't mind giving him what he wanted

▸but did that mean that your relationship wasn't flawed?

▸oh, it was far from perfect built on rotten wood

▸ everyone had their bad days, his included being insecure whenever you gave a bit of attention to someone apart from him

▸he would get all angsty, glaring at the person

▸it was worse when the man was your business partner and if it weren't for your amazing persuasion skills you would have lost the deal

▸as soon as the meeting was over, you dragged your little lover with you into your office

▸"what was that about, chuuya?"

▸your voice was calm with a soft smile but there was a sense of danger surrounding you and how sharp your eyes got

▸body language may say that you aren't angry and yes you weren't

▸you were downright pissed

▸it was such an important business deal and could cost you your life if it was messed up

▸yet chuuya decided to be a brat and glare at your business partner

▸"he was staring at you too much," he looked away from you and crossed his arms

▸"that's it? that's the reason?" you asked to confirm

▸when you saw him nod, you took a deep breath in order to not let your emotions control you

▸you knew he was like this but it was ok for him to do this to the lower-ranked members

▸or on some other occasions where the business wouldn't be disrupted

▸ you've seen enough bloodshed from the man to know how far he would go for you

▸from purposely picking fights so they would be sent to the hospital, putting them in suicide missions and whatnot

▸you ignored it since it didn't matter to you as long as your work wasn't affected

▸but now...

▸"get out."

▸you managed to say without raising your voice

▸"what?"

▸"get out." you repeated and your eyes contained such fury that chuuya felt tears leave his eyes

▸"fine!" he rushed out of the room with an ugly loud cry

▸did you love chuuya? yes, you did

▸did your heart hurt seeing him cry? yes

▸closing your eyes, you sighed and moved to the chair to do your work so you could take your mind off the mess that had just happened

▸it was midnight when you got a call

▸"hello, chuuya?"

▸"excuse me, this person just jumped down from the building in front of-"

▸and you could hear nothing but the fast beats of your heart

▸grabbing your overcoat, you rushed out to the location where the ginger was

▸parking your car, you slammed the door shut and ran like like your life was in danger

▸when you saw the dark area, you saw a man anxiously looking around and then you gulped

▸there was chuuya, his white shirt all bloody with a miserable look on his face

▸it was a pathetic sight

▸one which didn't suit someone who was a port mafia executive

▸"chuuya?" you stood in front of him and his head flopped up to look at you

▸"[name]..." he cried out and jumped onto you

▸you hugged the man in your arms and thankfully nodded at the man who called you

▸"that man told me you jumped off the building." your voice was as calm as the time you fought with him except this time you were softer, more gentle

▸chuuya continued on clinging onto you as he sobbed his heart out

▸"i thought you didn't like me anymore, i got drunk and then wanted to die cause..." he hugged you tighter, "i would die without you by my side..."

▸"i love you, chuuya." your confession made him still in your arms

▸looking at you with his eyes which were surrounded by tears, he hesitated before he asked

▸"really?"

▸"really."

▸you stayed like this for a while and enjoyed each other's warmth

▸if it weren't for the fact that he was a god, you would've immediately rushed to the hospital but even then you couldn't let your little lover be in pain now, could you?

▸using your ability, you sealed his wounds so he was no longer bleeding

▸"does this mean i can kill that man?" he asked in a meek tone

▸"...sure" you agreed

▸"only after the deal is settled and you won't do anything without informing me, got it?"

▸"mhmm,"

▸chuuya snuggled closer to you

character: chuuya nakahara anime name: bungou stray dogs requested: none, my birthday special

[yandere-daydreams]

Twelve Days of Christmas - Day Eleven

Prompt: Christmas Eve.

Pairing: Yandere!Atsumu/Reader & Yandere!Osamu/Reader (Haikyuu!!).

TW: Nonconsensual Body-Modification, Nonconsensual Touching, Imprisonment, Mentions of Bondage, Marking, and Possessive Mindsets. 

“Hold still, baby.”

You weren’t sure why Atsumu bothered. Even if you’d been stupid enough to move, if you’d been naive enough to fight back, you couldn’t have, not with Osamu’s fist clamped around your wrists, Atsumu straddling your thighs, the two keeping you pinned to the bed regardless of all your writhing and squirming and pointless struggling. They didn’t have to, not really. There were a dozen pairs of handcuffs they could’ve used, a handful of coiled ropes, a few well-worn leashes, but tonight, your captors seemed to want to take a more hands-on approach. You couldn’t say you didn’t see why, but somehow, understanding did little to make the situation any more bearable.

You knew better than to misbehave, but you still jolted as the needle made contact with your skin, piercing the flesh just below your collarbone and withdrawing just as quickly, leaving little more than a bead of ink and a throbbing sting in its place. Atsumu hummed, splaying his free hand over your shoulder, but the sound was lost under the soft, constant buzz of machinery. You almost wished he’d talk, for a moment, that he’d break the near-silence just to cover up that awful, artificial noise, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be thankful when he actually did. Not when his tone was too smug for his empathy to be believable. “Wouldn’t want to mess this up, right? Tell ‘em, Osamu.”

You tried to glance down, to get a better look at what he was doing, but Osamu only caught you by the jaw, tilting your head back and forcing you to stare up at him while Atsumu worked. He’d explained that earlier, how they both wanted this to be a surprise, how you shouldn’t be able to see your gift until midnight and it was finally, finally finished. You had to wonder if they were drawing it out on purpose, with that in mind. You had to wonder if either of them really cared enough to try, or if the sadism just came naturally. “If you’re gonna, it’d be better if you could wait another minute or two,” Osamu started, as Atsumu cursed under his breath. “He’s doin’ mine, right now, and I know I’m your favorite. You can ruin Atsumu’s, if you want to.”

His playful lilt was obvious, accompanied by a lazy, careless smirk, but Atsumu still took a moment to glare, letting his needle plunge just a little too deep and leaving you jerking against Osamu, a stifled whimper forcing itself through your lips at the abrupt (albeit mild) pain. The sting seemed to get worse, too, turning from a jittery awareness to an incessant burn, but if Atsumu cared about the way you shrunk into yourself, he didn’t bother pausing, only hushing you as he worked on the next intricate, swirling line. “Your favorite’s distractin’ me,'' He grunted, choosing to ignore Osamu’s snicker. “Take it out on him if anything goes wrong. I don’t want to spend Christmas with a sulkin’ brat.”

“I don’t--” You tried to speak, only to be cut off by your own choked breath, the air hitching in your throat. Osamu clicked his tongue, drawing slow, deep circles into your cheek as a gesture he must’ve thought was comforting, but Atsumu didn’t seem affected. Or, he didn’t let your implied opposition get in his way, at least. “It’s starting to hurt--”

“Obviously,” Atsumu scoffed, pulling his needle away, the machine attached to it clicking off. You allowed yourself a sigh, but the relief was short lived, ending as soon as you felt him shifting backwards, a hand slipping under the waistline of your shorts. Your heart skipped a beat, dread forming a tight ball in your chest, but luckily, he only tugged at the fabric, edging it down just enough to uncover his next target. “But, I know my sweetheart can handle a little tattoo. Osamu fucks you up worse than this ever could whenever I leave the two of you alone.”

Your hipbone. You could feel it, Atsumu moving diagonally, just a little more eager than he was, before. Half-heartedly, you tried to thrash, aiming to buck him away or twist out of Osamu’s grip, but there wasn’t much you could do, not when all it took was a low growl on Osamu’s part to free you from that small bit of faith. He didn’t bare his teeth, but he didn’t have to, not when the threat was already familiar, not when you already knew what would happen if you ruined his brother’s fun. This wasn’t the worst option. This would stop hurting, eventually. You couldn’t say the same for all the scars he’d already left, the ones that seemed to smolder every time you got on his bad side. “We’re only gonna make you look a little prettier,” He mumbled, when you’d calmed down, as if that’d do anything to soothe your nerves. “Plus, we’ll never have to hear ‘stumu whine about it again. He might finally stop leavin’ all those ugly marks on ya.”

“Look at that jerk, pretendin’ he ain’t twice as bad.” Atsumu was laughing, again, but he didn’t let it disturb him. He’d gotten the hang of it now, moving quickly, daring to add an extra swirl, there, another loop, some embellishment that only worked to prolong the grueling process. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just as excited to have you all marked up as I am, and once I’m done, he’s not gonna be able to keep his hands to himself. You’re just gonna look that cute, when you’re all mine.”

“All ours,” Osamu corrected, squeezing your wrists absent-mindedly. He moved to go on, but he was interrupted by the chime of an alarm, too loud to be missed and too sudden not to catch all of you off-guard. Fishing his phone off the nightstand, Osamu waited for Atsumu to nod before he switched it off, Atsumu’s kit following shortly after. The buzzing died out, but Atsumu took a spare moment to lean down, pressing a fleeting kiss into the raw skin he’d just finished dying.

He didn’t pull away, as he spoke. “Show ‘em, ‘samu.”

You almost wished they hadn’t, that they’d kept it from you for just another hour, that they’d let you live in the hopeful delusion that it was anything but what you already knew it was. You didn’t have to search, not with Osamu’s hand still clamped around your chin, guiding you to the line of stark, bold text engraved in your collarbone, pitch back and just as eye-catching it’s twin at your hip. Just as unignorable. Just as terrible. Just as monstrous.

Osamu and Atsumu. One written across your collar, the other at your hip.

Their names, tattooed onto your skin. A display of ownership as permanent as it was sickening.

You felt light-headed. You felt like you were going to collapse. You might’ve, if Osamu hadn’t taken the opportunity to let go of your wrists and run his fingers over his name, salt poured into an open wound. A sob racked through your chest, tears beginning to blur your vision, but he only smiled. “Don’t be shy. Tell us what you think, angel.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an order, and there was only one right answer.

“It’s perfect.”

[hockeywhhores]

just friends?- m. tkachuk

Matthew Tkachuk x f!Reader

summary~ Matthew is your best friend, but you both want to be more. 

warnings~ friends to lovers, swearing, alcohol consumption, fight, implied sex 

genre~ friends to lovers, fluff with some angst 

word count~ 3.3K 

masterlist

Growing up next in the house next to the Tkacuk’s meant there were never any dull moments. You have been playing with Matthew, Brady, and Taryn since you could talk. Matthew was the one who taught you how to ice skate, Brady taught you how to understand American football, and you ended up teaching Taryn how to put on makeup.

Matthew was even there when your first date had stood you up. When he came you were so embarrassed about being stood up and wanted to leave, but he made you stay and ‘fixed’ your date. Really he just bought you some dinner, and then you guys went back to his house and watched a movie with his siblings. At night when you started overthinking about why your date had stood you up; he held you in his arms, and let you cry on his shoulder. Matthew made sure you knew it wasn’t because you were ugly, which you insisted that it was, by telling you how beautiful you looked. You wrote him off, because that’s what your best friend is supposed to say.

When Matthew was drafted, he insisted that you applied to colleges in Calgary. Just to ease his mind you applied to all different colleges around Calgary, and even got in. Matthew offered to share his apartment, but you decided to live in the dorms. You both knew that wasn’t really going to happen, and were right. You spent more time in his apartment than in your dorm. Your toothbrush was in his bathroom and your shampoo and conditioner were in his shower. You slept in the guest room, and whenever his family came to Canada you slept in his bed, with him. His parents would take the guest room.

You were just friends. You were reminded of that when girls would flirt with him in bars, and he would let them. You always pushed away every jealous thought. Matthew wasn’t yours, so that makes whoever is flirting with him not your problem. The team had no problem making little chirps at the two of you being in love, but at least they only did so when you were alone. Some random guy ended up on the stool next to you. He ordered a beer and started watching one of the TVs. “Come here often?” He asked you, as he looked back towards you.

“Do you ask every girl that?” you questioned him with a small chuckle.

“Only the pretty one’s,” He smirked at you, “My name’s Asher.” he said, extending his hand.

“y/n” you smiled at him and shook his hand. As corny as his introduction was, you couldn’t help but think he was cute. His blue eyes stood out, they weren’t like Matthew’s ,light blue eyes, they are a deep blue. His ashy brunette hair looked super soft, and fell slightly across his forehead. Asher looked tired, but interested in you.

“Well what do you do, Miss. y/n?” he asked you, his voice sounding deep.

“I’m a college student by day, and a mysterious girl that hangs out in bars by night.” You say so casually, wanting to mess with him a little bit. Purposely not telling him you were here with the few Flames’ players that were around.

“Well I think you're doing great at being the mysterious girl that hangs out in bars very well.” Asher's voice was smooth like honey. “I’m an editor for CalgarySun.” you could listen to him talk for hours.

“Wow, and I caught your eye?” you playfully asked him.

“How could you not have?” He asked you sounding serious. “Do you want another drink?” he noticed your drink was getting low.

“If you don’t mind. I would love another drink.” you smiled. You felt like an idiot with all the smiling you were doing. Asher ended up buying you two more drinks before you got a text that Matthew ordered himself an Uber and you could share with him if you wanted to. Deciding to save the money, and take a ride with him. You said goodbye to your new friend, Asher. Numbers were exchanged and with that you left.

When you got outside you found Matthew walking the girl to her Uber, but he didn’t get in with her. The girl’s Uber left with her in it, and Matthew turned around to find you watching him. He gestures for you to come stand by him, and you did.

“Why didn’t you go with her?” You were the first one to speak.

“She obviously only liked me, because she recognized me. Fucking groupie was what she was.” You heard the frustration in his voice. It struck you as odd, about how he never took girls back to his apartment. You always told him you would go back to your dorms for the night, but he refused. Those moments made you feel bad for being there all the time.

A red car pulled up to the curb, and Matthew seemed to recognize it. You heard the driver ask if he was Matthew, and when he got a ‘yes’, he unlocked the doors. Matthew opened the door for you, and you slightly crawled inside the backseat. Thankfully you were wearing jeans, so you didn’t flash anyone. The ride back was just like any other. Matthew and you would talk about little things, and when it got quiet you listened to the radio that was lightly playing in the background. It only got quiet in between new topics. But like a blink of an eye the ride was over, and you were in front of his apartment.

Matthew opened the door for you, and you both went your separate ways. You went to the bathroom to take off your makeup and he went to his bedroom to change his clothes. After you were both done you switched, and he went to the bathroom while you changed. Walking into the room you now occupy in his apartment, the first thing you noticed was the mess you had made while getting ready for a night out. You signed and started straightening up before you gave up, and just put on your pajamas, which was an old shirt Matthew gave to you and some sweatpants. You heard the TV turn on and knew Matthew wasn’t going to be going to bed anytimes soon. You decided to join him.

Matthew was watching some Avengers movie, and you just signed and laid on the couch. He let you put your legs on top of his; letting you lay down on the couch. You phone vibrated on the coffee table. The light makes it hard to ignore. It went off again, so you just got up to answer it. You smiled when you noticed that Asher had texted you. Matthew tried to pay you no mind, and continued to watch the movie he picked out, but he couldn’t stop thinking about who would be texting you at midnight on a Saturday.

Matthew knew he should make his feelings known, but there was so much going against how could you two ever work out? He got labeled a borderline dirty player, a fuckboy, and was told he didn’t know how to manage his anger, and he was okay with it. He didn’t let it bother him. But if he ever lost you, because of his stupid feelings, he would never forgive himself. You were too precious to lose, and he could never risk it, so he hid his feelings.

After the movie was over Matthew looked over and saw that you had fallen asleep with your phone next to you. He gently moved your legs, trying his hardest to not wake you up. When he successfully got up, without disturbing you, he picked you up and carried you bridal style. He quietly tucked you into your bed, and went back to the living room to grab your phone. All he was going to do was plug it in for you, but couldn't help himself when he saw that some guy named Asher had been the one texting you. Matthew felt jealous boil up inside him, but he just plugged your phone in and left. You weren’t his, and oh how he wanted that to change.

Both of you didn’t wake up until late into the afternoon, and by that time lunch was more socially acceptable than breakfast. Matthew ordered some chinese take out, to help with both your hangovers. They weren’t bad, but Chinese take could cure anything. You came out looking a slight mess, but Matthew thought you gorgeous anyway. Your hair was all knotted, your clothes were wrinkled, and you had no makeup on. If Matthew was being honest he would pick this version of you over any supermodel that DMed him.

“Good mornin’.”your raspy, just-woke-up voice rang out across the apartment. You smiled at him, and looked confused when he did answer you. All he could think of was, who was ‘Asher’ and why was he texting you last night?

“Morning. I ordered some take out.” Matthew said back to you when he came to his sinuses.

“You are my savior!” you giggled out. Before things could get too awkward there was a knock on the door.

“That’s probably it right now.” he stated as he walked to the door. It was in fact the food, and you went to grab some silverware, and plates to help out. You also made both of you water bottles. You heard Matthew say a quick ‘thank you’ before the door closed, and he held up the big paper bag of food out as a way of showing you. You giggled and took the silverware, plates, and water bottles to the coffee table. Matthew followed behind you with the food.  

“When is your next game?” you questioned him. You needed to know what night you weren’t really going to be sleeping.

“Tomorrow, we get to stay home for the next four game, I think.” Matthew got out between taking bites of the noodles he put on his plate. “What do you want to watch?” he questioned you back.

“Umm...want to watch ‘The Good Doctor’?” you threw out between your bites of chicken.

“Sounds good to me.” he smiled at you. You knew liking your best friend was cliche, but if you pretended there wasn’t anything there; there was nothing there, right?

After eating and watching hulu, you decided it would be a good idea to get some of the homework you didn’t want to actually do, done. Matthew kepting talking to you while you sat at the really dining room table, that you never actually used, typing away on your laptop. Then he would go back and continue on doing whatever he was doing. While he was sitting on the couch in the living room, you got a great view of his face. You looked at him, you mean you really looked at him. Your heart started beating a little bit faster and your cheeks got hot. When he smiled at his show, you felt yourself wanting to smile. You never realized how domesticated this really was. You never realized how you could live with him, like this, forever. You just noticed how much you were going to miss his soft singing when he was in the shower, and his little mannerisms that made your heart beat faster. How he held every door he could open for you.

You thought back to when you were stood up. You thought about how he wouldn't let you go home. How he made you stay so he could give you a ‘proper date’. How he insisted that it wasn’t because you were ugly, and you were actually the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Did he just say that because that was what best friends said? Did he feel the same feelings towards the other, like you did?  No. There was no way he felt the same.

The lazy day ended and you both had to go back to your normal lives. Monday was upon you, and Matthew had a game, and you had class. You were dressed in black jeans, and a flames crewneck tha Matthew gave you to wear around Calgary so people knew you were on the right side of the ‘Battle of Alberta’. Matthew was gone before you had your coffee made. You saw the note he left stating that he was going to go do some laps, and hang out with the team. After your coffee was done you locked up his apartment, and left for class.

Class was boring, but you and Matthew texted so that made things better. Your plans for the night are to now attend his game, that was getting played against the Canucks. No complaints were going to be heard from you. You loved going to watch his games.

The night came quicker than expected, and you were rushing around his apartment trying to find your jersey, that of course had his last name on it, but it was nowhere to be seen. Looking at your watch you decided that if you didn’t leave now then you were never going to make it before puck drop. Last minute decision was made, and you just grabbed one of the many jerseys he had in his closet. The jersey was several sizes too big, but you didn’t mind.

Luck was on your side, because you were somehow able to make it to your seat in time before the game started. You only have to wait a minute before the lineup is being called. Matthew looked to where you always sat, with most of the wags, and smiled bigger when he saw you sitting there in his jersey. You smiled and gave him a slight wave. The game was brutal to say the least. Whenever the Flames were able to score, the Canucks scored right after them. Nevermind all the chirping going on between the two teams, especially Matthew and Jake Virtanen. They were going after each other, and no one was able to keep them apart long enough. You thought everything was going to blow over, but then the gloves were dropped. You stood up in shock, and you were also trying to get a better view. Whenever Matthew got in fights your blood ran cold, and your hands got sweaty.

The referees got everything sorted out, and they both got pentilites. The game stayed close, 3-3, and it was now going into overtime. You could tell how frustrated Matthew was. Overtime came and went, and then shootout time was up. After two misses, it was Matthew’s turn. Your hands got even more sweaty. Then in a blink-and-you’ll-miss it type of moment, Matthew scored for the Flames. You had to sit through the Canucks last shot, but thankfully Markstrom gloved it before it could go in. You could feel the energy that was put back into Saddledome.

As everyone leaves the stadium you stay in your seat, waiting for everything to clear out a little bit. When it looked clear enough you headed to the hallway where most of the wags were already there. You kept to yourself, and quietly waited for Matthew. When the team came out everyone was congratulating them. When Matthew saw you we went straight to you. You saw him a second before he was in front of you, and jumped forward engulfing Matthew in the biggest hug.

“Oh my god. You were amazing.” You smiled, so wide your cheeks hut, but he was smiling just as big. He was holding you from under your thighs, and you had your arms around his neck.

“I couldn’t have done it without you being here.” Matthew whispered in your ear. Neither of you want to let go, but you knew the guys wanted to go celebrate at some bar. So you pulled back, and you swear you saw Matthew frown, as he put you back on the ground.

Apparently the bar everyone wanted to go to was, where you went not even three days ago. Matthew bought you a shot, and you did one with him. Then he bought you one of your regular drinks. That was when you saw Asher sitting on one of the bar stools drinking a beer.

“We have got to stop meeting at this bar.” You stated when you were close enough he would be able to hear you.

“I am not going to disagree with you.” Asher tipped his beer at you and you slightly tripped your drink back at him. “Did you come in with the hockey team?” he questioned you sounding disgusted.

“Yeah. I did. Is that a problem?” you softly asked him

“I bet you’re just some groupie, who likes men that have money and a title.” He accused you. His words were slurred, and you knew he was drunk.

“What did you just say to her?” Matthew angrily spit out. ‘Oh shit’ was the only thing going through your head.

“Oh you both heard me. I saw her get into an Uber with your Saturday night. Right after she was done flirting with me and using me for drinks.” Asher spit out just as angrily but way more intoxicated.

“Both of you stop it!” you yelled out, “Well fuck. Matthew meet Asher, Asher meet Matthew, my friend.” you tried to get everything to settle down, but after you called Matthew your friend, you saw him get even more angry, if that was even possible.

“I don’t care what your relationship is to him. Why the hell did you leave flirting with a guy to get in some other guy’s Uber.” Asher was trying to dominate over you by standing tall and looking down at you. You hated this. You wish you and Matthew just went home instead of go to this stupid bar.

“Back the fuck up, Buddy.” Matthew spits out, “y/n come on. We are going home.” Matthew grabbed your arm and dragged you to his car. It wasn’t really a drag as you were willingly leaving with him, he was just holding your arm.

The car ride was completely silent, the radio not even playing, and no one wanted to speak. When you got back to his apartment was when all hell broke loose.

“So that was Asher? What an outstanding guy.” Matthew was enraged and couldn’t help with throwing out that comment.

“How the hell did you know about Asher?” you asked confused.

“I saw your phone, when I plugged it in for you, and made sure you were tucked into bed. Like a friend would do.” Matthew wrinkled his nose at you.

“Why do you care about the guys I’m texting! You can literally get any girl you want!” you protested.

“I care because I love you! Have you ever seen me take any of those girls back here? No, that's because I was trying to show you I’m not some asshole. I love you dammit.” Matthew professed everything in that one response. Everything was said, and neither of you could take it back. The pause that followed put both of you on edge.

“I love you too.” you whispered out. “I only want to be next to you, and when I’m in class I can’t wait to see you when we grab lunch together or when you hold my legs in your lap when we are watching movies. I love you. I love you so much.” your eyes were watering with all of the emotions coming out of you.  Matthew ran up and pulled up into his arms, holding you like he was at the stadium. Then he leaned in and kissed you. It felt like time stopped, everything was still, except for you and him. You couldn’t get enough of him, and he couldn’t get enough of you.

You woke up for the first time in his bed with no clothes on. Matthew was already up and was watching. His grip was firm like if he let you go, he would never see you again. Nothing felt better at that moment.

finished.

[staywritten]

Roommates│Han Jisung (M)

Synopsis: Jisung is a selfish, rude and loud roommate but he’s also really cute and you can’t help but develop a crush or ignore the unspeakable tension.  Roommate!Au

Genre: A tiny bit of angst, Smut

Word Count: 3k

When you responded to an ad for a roommate online, you figured the worst thing that could happen to you was that you’d be killed by some stranger in your sleep. Especially because the ad was far too good to be true. The apartment was beautiful, an in-unit washing machine, walking distance to campus, and work, and its rent was a steal. Especially in Seoul. Unfortunately your roommate wasn’t some creepy serial killer who dwelled in a basement and rarely interacted with you. No, he was a young attractive inconsiderate asshole testing your patience.

Admittedly you were a bit flustered with you first met him. His gummy smile was your weakness, his cheeks so squishy it took everything in you not to poke them, and when he worked out around the apartment, wearing that cut off tank you loved so much, you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure.

And as smitten as you were with his appearance you wanted to fight him about 80% of the time.

From how he always took too long in the shower on days he knew you had class, how he always ate your food. Knowing damn well he wasn’t the one who bought it. How his dates would always use your shampoo the morning after, how his stupidly attractive friends were always over without warning. And the worst offense of them all. His damn music.

It was the middle of the night, you had stupidly agreed to cover your coworkers 8am shift on what was normally your day off and Jisung had his friends over. Again. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to live with a music major. But not just a music major, a music major that was an underground rapper, with lots of friends who frequented your apartment. 

Especially in the middle of the night after a show.

You tried to keep your outburst to a minimum. Sharing a space was about compromise. And you tried your damnedest to compromise. You bought noise-canceling headphones, you stuffed a towel under the bottom of your door to try and buffer the music, you tried having an asmr video of thunderstorms playing. You even attempted banging on the wall to get his attention to lower the volume.  Anything and everything to drown him out. But by 3am, you could not only hear the beats booming against the shared wall but the laughter of his friends.

“Oh my god. I can’t” you groaned, throwing the blanket off and storming over the whole five feet it took to get to his door. “Yah! Han Jisung!” you knocked on his door vigorously, to ensure he heard you. You knocking not letting up until he opened up.

He swung open the door, a scowl on his face at the interruption.

Originally you were planning on politely asking him to turn down the music. And that cordial thought went straight out the window the moment you saw him. It was like all you could see was red. Here you were frustrated in the middle of the night and he had the nerve to look that attractive. His snapback pushing back his hair, displaying his forehead. Honestly it made him look like a fuck boy and it was a weakness. “Do you ever sleep?! It’s 3am!”

His mood immediately went on the defensive when you started yelling. “I live here too, and the last time I checked I don’t have a bedtime!”

“You are such an asshole! Turn the music down!” you hated that your immediate response was to stomp your foot like a child. But he was being childish too!

“You can’t tell me what to do” he scoffed rolling his eyes. “If I wanna play music until 6am I can!”

“You are so inconsiderate!”

“Me? What about you!? You always act like I’m the problem. I don’t complain when you’re being a pig! I clean everything” he rolled his eyes “You’re not perfect I just don’t whine about it”

Your eyes widdened at the sudden attack “If my mess bothers you then just clean it up or tell me about it! Don’t try and throw it in my face in a conversation about something else!”

“You’re the one that came over here to pick a fight with me! I have guests and you barley even wear clothes! You’re the one being inconsiderate” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth and he saw how immediately you looked uncomfortable. 

But there was no backing down now.

You immediately folded your arms over your chest, feeling far more exposed than you had realized. But it was the middle of the night. You were in your sleep clothes. Which tonight consisted of a pair of comfy short shorts, and a thin t-shirt. You were flustered and caught off guard with his attack. Suddenly you could feel the gaze of his friends, looking at you and you just felt so exposed.

He wanted to apologize the moment he saw your eyes glaze over. The frustrated embarrassed look becoming more noticeable. “I-”

“Do what you want” you mumbled before hurrying back to your room, slamming your door hard.

He groaned before slamming his door as well. He continues playing music throughout the night, even after his friends left. He knew he was doing it out of pettiness. But he hated that you came and yelled at him, and then he ended up feeling guilty.

It was always like that. 

It was like everything he did pissed you off and he couldn’t help that you were sensitive to everything. You nagged him all the time. And if he wanted to be nagged he could have continued living with his mother. You even managed to guilt him after his one night stands left. It was uncomfortable. Why should he have to live like this? He did his best to make sure you lived comfortably. He knew living with a guy could be kinda uncomfortable so he never hit on you, made sure his friends never made a pass at you and you always make it hard for him.

He knew you were attractive and everything you wore was gonna be sexy but you could try harder to be ugly. He didn’t want to fight with you but he opened the door and the first thing he noticed was just how stunning you looked in such a simple outfit, one that he never really saw. You usually wore hoodies, or a robe when you walked around the common areas. And just as quickly as he took in the exposed skin, you yelled at him. Your hair was messy, your clothes disheveled, the neck of your v-neck falling off your shoulder. You just looked so kissable-so fuckable. And he couldn’t, so he threw a tantrum.

He’d figure out how to make it up to you tomorrow, he knew it was your day off so he figured he’d make breakfast as an apology.

He rolled out of bed bright and early to get started on your favorite breakfast but frowned seeing you drinking coffee and eating some bread. You were already dressed and ready for the day. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, you rolling your neck stiffly. He looked at his phone checking the time. “Why are you awake?”

You rolled your eyes, and downed your coffee. “I have to go to work” you placed your cup in the sink, making sure to wash it and put it away before grabbing your bag. “Sorry if my exposed legs offend you, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Today’s your day off.” he ignored your little stab at him, he felt bad enough.

“I had to cover someone's shift.” you spat, shooting him a glare.

“Why didn’t you tell me last night...I would have-”

“You wouldn’t have care. I asked you to turn the music down…” you sighed heavily and walked over to the door, slipping your shoes on. “You never care.”

“Why didn’t you tell me...I would have never had the guys over if-” he jumped as you walked out slamming the door shut.

But that’s how things were between you two. 

There was an undeniable tension, but after a few days it’d slowly die down. He’d ask you what you wanted for breakfast and things went back to normal. He never apologized for being inconsiderate, you never apologized for throwing a temper tantrum. It may not have been the healthiest but it worked.

Being roommates was about compromise right?

It’d been about two weeks since your last argument with Jisung and for all intents and purposes things were going well. He’d been more mindful of having people over only on the weekends, and keeping the music to a minimum on days you had early shifts. And you had been more mindful to clean and stay in your room when he had his friends over.

You yawned walking out of your bedroom, padding over to get a glass of water. Jisung was cozy on the couch with a blanket, flipping through movies to watch. “You enjoy your nap? It’s like midnight”

You nodded and grinned, downing your water. “It was the best four hour nap I’ve ever had. And the best part is I’m off tomorrow so I can sleep in.” You cleaned your cup before walking to him. “What are you doing back so early? Didn’t you have a date?”

He sighed before rubbing his temples “I did.” his tone curt and short.

“That bad huh?” you sat beside him, hugging your legs to your chest. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I picked her up, we had dinner…” he hesitated looking back to you, trying to read your expression. “And…”

You smirked, raising your eyebrow. “Had sex?” you laughed “I’m a big girl Jisung. I know what sex is.”

“I know- we just never talk about it or dating in general and stuff...I didn’t know if that was weird…” he fiddled with his sweater uncomfortably. “Like you don’t bring guys back…”

“Jisung no offence but, I don’t bring guys back when you’re home. It’s kinda uncomfortable too, and I don’t like scaring guys off with the My roommates is a guy, talk on first dates.”

“Woah- wait you brought guys back here after the first date?”

“Sometimes” you grinned, eyeing him “Han Jisung… You seem so surprised” your tone light and teasing. “Is it so hard to imagine that even I have sex?”

“No it’s just… “

“I’ll have you know I’m actually quite charming.”

“Oh I know” he looked a little embarrassed at how quickly it slipped out. “Like I know you’re hot and charming and… I dunno I just feel a little in the dark...I didn’t even know you were dating and yet I-”

“Bring your dates back home all the time.” you gave him a smug smile “Trust me, I know” you pointed to the walls. “They’re thin, remember? Oh and your dates always use my shampoo and body wash”

“I’m sorry…. That’s kinda rude isn’t it?”

You shook your head “Live comfortably”

“But you don’t…”

“Jisung, I don’t bring guys home when you’re here because I don’t want you to have to hear us.” you cheeks warmed as you chewed on your lower lip. “I’m kinda loud, I’m a little self conscious.”

“I wanna hear…” he turned toward you, his voice barely above a whisper. Part of him was hoping you didn’t hear him over the Netflix trailers, the other part of him prayed you heard him so he couldn’t chicken out.

“Do you?” your eyes darkened as you stared at him, slowly moving closer to him. He took in a sharp breath before pulling you into his lap. You grinned, straddling him, your lips inching closer to his before pulling away. Just ghosting the slightest bit, loving how he chased you. “Tell me bout your date and I’ll do whatever you want”

“Isn’t that kinda weird?” he tried to read your expression, but his wary look turned into one of intrigued as your smile grew. “Wait… Could you hear us earlier…?” He felt himself getting turned on more, as he noticed how warm you were, how flushed you got thinking about it. “I thought you were asleep…’

“You guys woke me up” you licked your lips, your hips moving against his just slightly. He stifled a groan before steadying your hips.

“It turns you on doesn’t it...? Hearing us?” Seeing your coy smile, he grabbed your jaw before pulling you into a deep kiss. His lips moved quickly against yours, as he nipped and chewed on your bottom lip. “Mmm…” He pulled your hoodie over the top of your head and groaned seeing your bare chest. “No shirt or bra?” he traced your soft, smooth skin, running his fingers up your sides.

“I never wear a bra at home” he smirked against your skin, kissing down your neck.

“You never answered my other question…” his teeth grazed your skin, reaching your nipples “Mmm such a pretty color Baby…” he whispered, his eyes peeking up at you as he peppered kisses before taking the bud into his mouth, sucking softly. His free hand palming your other one, gently tweaking your nipples. He loved how it made your squirm. You hips, desperate for friction. Almost angered by how much both your sweatpants got in the way. “Do you get turned on when you hear me have sex…? Did you wish it was you? Do you touch yourself…?” he chuckled, kissing your nipples, his teeth tracing them. Your head rolled back as you whined bucking your hips more. “Pay attention baby...answer me.”

“I get turned turned on…” your pout deepened before you cupped his squishy cheeks. “I wished it was me...and I always touch myself…” you leaned down closer to his ear, your lips brushing against the shell of his. “And I always cum…”

He gripped your hips tighter, digging into your skin. “Fuck….I…” he gripped your bottom, moving you closer to his crotch. “How many times did I make you cum tonight…?” his voice dropping an octave as he teased you. His fingers found their way into your sweatpants, teasing you from the outside of your panties. “Mmm and since when do you wear sweatpants?”

“I thought you said I didn’t wear enough clothes”

“Yeah when my friends are over and I’m trying to not fantasize about fucking you over every surface” he chuckled, rubbing a bit harder feeling your panties moistened. “Answer me Sweet girl….How many times did you cum?”

“Nnnn...how do you know I’m sweet?” you shivered as his finger rubbed against your slit. “You’ve never tasted me” you moaned softly.

“Stop trying to distract me, if you’re a good girl and answer me and I will.”

“T-twice…”

“I’m gonna double that” he whispered before tossing you on your back on the couch, making quick work of your sweatpants and panties.

You grinned as he settled himself between your legs. His mouth covered your core, as his tongue made its way inside you. Your thigh hooked around his shoulder as he deepened his teasing. “A-Ahh Jisung… you’re no fair” you panted “You never told me about your date”

“You minx” he grinned, pulling back just slightly pushing his index finger inside of you, curling it and watching you squirm. “You heard us, you know exactly why my date went badly.”

You shivered, gripping the arm of the couch. “But I want you to say it.” you licked your lips. “Please...I wanna hear it-Ah!”

He teased, shoving another finger inside of you, pumping it in and out. “Did it make you cum when you heard me call out your name instead?” his voice low and husky.

You nodded, squirming more from his teasing. “You sounded so sexy when you moaned my name” you reached down pulling at his shirt, pulling it over the top of his head. “I know you didn’t get to finish” you grinned. “Should I be nice and let you finish in me?”

“Please…” You ran your hand down his toned chest, the efforts of his workouts paying off so beautifully. He pressed his mouth over your center again, relentlessly, teasing and fingering you until you were a moaning mess. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pressed him into you, desperate to cum, you were so close. But more than his tongue, more than his fingers, the thing that brought you closer to the edge was his intense eye contact. It was both shy and dominating. He just never looked away and for the rare moments he did, the way his gaze flashed up at you made you feel so flustered. “J-Jisung” you moaned out, your stomach tightening as you shivered. He helped you ride out your high, his fingers relentlessly moving until you came against him.

“Such a pretty girl…” he licked the slick off his lips before meeting your lips again. “You were so good for me..”

“I can be better” you reached for the growing tent in his pants, rubbing him. “Let me..” you crawled closer to him, wanting to return the favor.

“No baby.. I don’t need it. Right now all I need is you.”

“But-”

“I’ve literally been thinking about you all night, I promise if you put your lips on me, I’m not gonna last.” he gave you a sheepish look, almost embarrassed from his confession. 

“Fine” you pouted pulling his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs.

“Don’t pout” he chuckled, kissing your jaw. “Next time Baby”

He was fully erect, pre-cum leaking from his swollen head. You smiled, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing him firmly. “I need you…”

His head rolled back as he closed his eyes. The feeling of your fingers around him was like a dream. “Mmm Baby, I need to get a condom”

You shook your head and grinned, your grip tightening a little. “No~I want you now…” 

“You serious?”

“I wanna feel you Jisung~ Can’t I? Will you let me?” your voice so soft as you coaxed him into a deep kiss. Your tongue rolling against his “Please?”

“You beg for me so well..Fuck-yes Baby” you rubbed himself against your wet entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. There it was again, that beautiful eye contact, that little furrow in his brow when he concentrated, his soft lips pulling into a pout as he moved against you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“It’s ok, you can go harder.” you encouraged him.

And that was all he needed before he began to pound into you more vigorously. His hands moving down your body, cupping your breast and rubbing against your side. Like he was just desperate to touch everywhere. His lips occasionally finding yours to tease. “C’mere…”

He pulled you onto his lap again, his back against the couch as he let you ride him. He hit deeper at the new angle, and you loved every second of it. You arched your back, gripping the couch as you moved your hips faster, in a circular motion to stimulate yourself. 

His lips sucking the soft skin of your neck, leaving a mark as you moved. His strong hands on your hips guiding you back and forth on him. “Faster baby” he whispered huskily. Your moans music to his ears, his, your desperate cries of his name, encouraging him more. “I’m almost there, are you close?”

“Not quite but don’t worry about me I-” you moaned out louder, feeling him tease and squeeze your clit. “Ah-Jisung!”

He kept rubbing your clit harder, desperate thrusting into you, his free hand moving your hips harder. “Cum for me Baby…” he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

He could feel you pick up the pace, your body shivering as your second climax inched closer. “That’s my girl…” he slammed into you, gripping so tight as he released, he kept moving until he felt you cum following not far behind him, just long enough before the over stimulation became too much to handle.

“Jisung” you whined, holding his shoulders to steady him, your face collapsing in his chest as you calmed yourself, and steadied your breathing. You could feel him start to soften inside you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Mmm… you’re right you are pretty loud, it’s so sexy” he chuckled running his hand up and down your back.

You pulled back to look at him and pecked his nose softly. “I’m really glad your date ended badly tonight”

“Hell, me too” he laughed “I’ve had a crush on your since you moved in, but kinda figured I shouldn’t try and hit on my roommate” he playfully spanked your behind for you to get up. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and got you both cleaned off before he tugged back on his sweats, you only bothered to put on a new pair of panties and a t-shirt. He cleaned up your clothes to put near the laundry while shyly looking at you, like he was trying to find the courage to speak.

“What is it?” you leaned against your door frame, watching him fidget with everything in his path from the washing machine to your door.

“I-Um...Do you wanna go on a date tomorrow?” he asked shyly, standing in front of your door. “I know the order is kinda backwards but, I really am interested in you and I was kinda hoping this wasn’t just a one night thing. I mean-If it was that’s cool with me too, like no pressure but”

“You’re rambling” you grinned “I’d love to go out tomorrow.”

“Really?!” he smiled so brightly, his beautiful brown eyes disappearing in a crescent shape as that gorgeous gummy smile graced his face.

“Really” you giggled, subtly touching his hand. “You weren’t the only one with a crush Jisung”

“Can I kiss you goodnigh-” you interrupted his silly question, pressing your lips against his before pulling him into your bedroom.

End.

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ  Hey Friends I hope you liked that one shot, it was my first smut for stray kids, i know it was kinda long. But it seemed silly to split it up into parts so I hope you didn’t mind >///< If you liked it let me know~

-D❍MI

[bangtansmau]

midnight memories

pairing: kim taehyung x you

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summary: you moved in to a new apartment because you couldn't live another day with a noisy neighbor. to your luck, your balcony faced another apartment's balcony from the building next door and he also is infamous for making sounds. however, you can't seem to care when the noise is actually from a nice violin and the player himself is also nice-looking. 

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track 5: you and i + written part

once again, like deja vu, you heard the sentimental tune of the violin from the boy across your balcony. you were originally doing some research for an upcoming paper but the moment you heard a note being played, you just couldn’t help yourself to wander out of your bedroom and towards the french doors that separated you and the music.

when he saw your familiar face, tae’s smile gradually built itself up and was at its biggest when you were leaning against the metal railing. it was almost hypnotic; the way you were transfixed into the melody and the tremble of his fingers that made contact with different parts of the strings. 

gosh, was he talented.

you didn’t even notice him being finished and only came back to your senses when he snapped his fingers to your gaze of his instrument. he was chuckling and leaned his forearms on top of the bar to feel closer to you.

“the name of the piece was ‘jamais vu’. it’s by some group and i just heard it by chance a few days ago”

you were familiar of the song’s name but you were also at a lost on who originally played it.

“do you read sheet music, tae? or do you play by ear?”

that question made taehyung genuinely excited because he was quite proud of this aspect of him.

“i mostly learn by ear but i’m familiar with sheet reading”

your slow nod and your crossed arms made tae wonder what you were doing outside since he hasn’t seen you in a few days.

“hey, what have you been up to lately? i haven’t seen you around in a while. thought you disappeared or something”

his crooked smile had an effect on you to mirror it and your eyes scrunched shut as you remembered the reason why.

“a normal person would think that i was a literature major with how many papers i have to write. and i had to watch 4 movies and compare them and it’s so stressful which makes everything a mess. but i’m surviving haha”

the awkward laugh made taehyung sympathetically smile at you and he tilted his head to think.

“is there anything i could do to lessen the stress?”

the offer itself made you surprised because you couldn’t ask him to write your papers but the one thing you really wanted and needed right now was why you left your cave.

a gentle smile spread on your face and if tae didn’t look away, he knew he would just stare at you all day.

“keep playing for me, tae. any song, just anything you like”

of course, taehyung couldn’t refuse so he quickly picked up his violin and began to play, the melody quickly sounding like a familiar song.

“moana?”

you guessed and he excitedly agreed.

“yea!”

that went on for a while, taehyung playing and you guessing. he achieved his goal of distracting you because you felt more relaxed and fresher than you have which was more than you could ever ask for. by the tie the sixth song ended, tae carefully placed the violin back to the table and turned over to you.

“hey, y/n, why do you like me playing so much?”

duh, he would ask because tae noticed your deep fascination whenever he played and he guessed that you only came out since you could hear it. there was nothing wrong about it, he was just curious.

you shrugged.

“i’m not sure. there’s no specific reason or anything like that but,,,, it’s weird. when i hear you play, it’s like,, the world gently fades away. the cars honking, the bustling of the city- the noise gets drowned and nothing and no one else is here. just,, me and you, that’s all”

tae watched your eyes drift down to the ground as you answered, like you were embarrassed or shy to admit or say the reason. but when he did, he was surprised and he grew flustered with the response causing him to fumble for what to say.

“you mean,,, you and i?”

normally, with a literature major friend kim namjoon as your friend, you would be annoyed at the correction of your grammar but you couldn’t help but crack a smile. it helped ease the slight embarrassment of the thoughtful answer and you were grateful that he was considerate enough to lighten the mood.

finally, you met his eyes.

they were sparkling.

“same thing”

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fun facts:

- tae does indeed have pictures of his friends but they're mainly ugly ones just in case for blackmail purposes

- yoongi's parents dropped off holly in namjoon and his apartment and joon didn't know where to put him so he took holly in yoongi's room where he peed on everything

- 2seok believe in fate and destiny and they actually met during hobi's freshman year and jin's junior year in an astrology club

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//masterlist//

← track 4 // track 6 →

taglist!:

@weasleyswizarding-wheezes​

[belphegor1982]

86. “Don’t be scared I’m right here” prompt for sibling feels between Jonathan and Evie! Maybe when they’re kids and Jonathan is being a protective big brother?

I finally finished it! Hope you like :o)

The Chimera in the Attic

“Don’t be so loud,” whispers Jonathan, and Evelyn does her best to pin him with the most beady glare she can manage in the dark. It’s not so easy as it used to be. Jonathan has grown a lot in the past few months, and Evelyn remains somewhat on the small side for an eight-year-old girl.

He’s still skinny, though. The dressing gown Dad gave him for his birthday, saying he’d grow into it, is still too long and baggy for him.

“I’m not loud.”

“You are! I don’t even know how someone so small can be making so much noise while she walks! What are your slippers made of, solid lead?”

“Well, you’re the one who keeps talking!”

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

Evelyn glowers, but forces her voice down.

“Yes,” she mutters with a sigh – carefully, so she doesn’t blow her candle.

“Good show. Now – toes first, and then your heel. Mind the stairs, we’re almost there.”

It seemed a good idea to ask Jonathan for help – and, if she’s honest, it probably is – but she still doesn’t like it when her brother decides to be The Grown-up. It doesn’t suit him at all. But if she is to retrieve the books Mrs Pemberton, the housekeeper and household dragon, confiscated from her and locked up in the attic, then Jonathan and his baffling (and highly dubious) talent for opening doors is just the man for the job.

The fact that this ‘man’ is a thirteen and a half boy notwithstanding, of course.

And to be completely honest, creeping around the dark, silent house around midnight in his company feels much less daunting than it would on her own.

“Mum and Dad wouldn’t have taken my books away,” she mumbles while the both of them tiptoe up the stairs, careful to avoid the fifth step that always creaks.

Jonathan shoots her a look that has more than a little commiseration to it. But he doesn’t make a sarcastic comment like she half-thought he might. He also doesn’t point out that she’d need only wait till next Friday for Salwa and John Carnahan to come back from their trip. He knows few things are more important to her than her books.

“No,” he murmurs, “they wouldn’t have. But maybe you need a little more… I don’t know, subtlety?”

“What do you mean?”

“Next time, don’t leave the books lying around when you know Mrs Pemberton doesn’t approve of you reading treatises that would give any normal adult a headache, especially when you should be sleeping. You might want to keep them hidden.”

Evelyn concedes the point silently.

True to his word, Jonathan only needs a few minutes until the lock gives up. She probably shouldn’t be so impressed.

The South Wing attic is one of the few places in the house that still don’t have electricity – not even gaslight. It’s essentially a large lumber room filled with steamer trunks, some full, some empty, cabinets and bookshelves devoid of books but filled with bric-a-brac, and more generally everything that’s not too sensitive to light or dust. The windows have only had windowpanes for a few years, and that’s solely because Mum and Dad wanted to use the space to store their travel diaries, inconvenient heirlooms, and everything they couldn’t find room for downstairs.

At this hour of the night, it looks empty and huge, and dark, and utterly uninviting.

Evelyn and Jonathan remain frozen on the threshold for a few seconds. Then Evelyn takes a deep breath, hears Jonathan do the same, and they enter.

From there they split up to search, Evelyn hoping the dust won’t ruin her slippers, Jonathan swearing quietly every time he stubs his toe against something. For some reason it feels even more important to be silent here than it did downstairs, which is silly. This attic is not anywhere near sleeping quarters.

Evelyn lifts a pile of old almanacs, careful not to breathe in the dust that goes flying when she puts them down. Then an unexpected noise behind her makes her gasp.

“It’s just me,” whispers Jonathan, who somehow crept up on her. Evelyn is all the more miffed because for once it doesn’t appear he did it on purpose. “Did you find anything?”

“Just these.”

“Are you sure this is where Mrs Pemberton took your books? She could’ve hidden them in her lair with the rest of her hoard – ugly portraits, stuffed lizards, human remains –”

“Oh, shush.”

Mrs Pemberton came with the house, so to speak, and watched over their father’s childhood with a gimlet eye. She’s very fond of John Carnahan and respected Salwa al-Masri from the moment Dad brought his new wife to England, which is a lot more than can be said for the rest of his family and household staff then. But she is Proper and Traditional and rules the house with an iron hand when the master and mistress are away. Jonathan sometimes half-jokes that he doesn’t see much difference between home and school as far as caning and bleeding knuckles are concerned. Evelyn really hopes he’s exaggerating on both accounts; but the last time Mrs Pemberton caught him scaling the vines on the west façade to sneak into a room, he held himself oddly for a few hours, and that wasn’t because he’d fallen down. He also made Evelyn promise she wouldn’t say a word to their parents, so she kept mum, but she can’t help thinking it’s not right. Mum and Dad never hit Jonathan when he misbehaves.

In normal circumstances she wouldn’t pick at his language. But a dark, dusty attic in the middle of the night is the last place in which she wants to hear about human remains.

“I saw her climb the stairs with all three books and come back down without them,” she points out. “She must have left them here.”

Logic has always been her most trusted ally. Jonathan, knowing this, nods.

“All right, so they’re somewhere in this mess. Now. If I was a fire-breathing dragon who eats twelve naughty children for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper every day, where would I hide forbidden but valuable books?”

Evelyn can’t help a silent chuckle. Then her eyes fall on a cabinet in a corner, standing in a pool of shadow.

She nudges her brother and they silently make their way towards the cabinet.

A rustling sound in the near distance makes them both freeze. The little candleholder trembles a little in her fist; with her other hand she instinctively searches for Jonathan’s.

“Don’t be scared,” she hears him whisper, “I’m right here.” But his hand is none too steady in hers as he grips back.

“I’m not scared.” Jonathan gives her a look before he bends to inspect the lock of the cabinet, so she insists, “I’m not! I was just startled.”

“Right,” he says with that small infuriating grin of his, like he hasn’t jumped as well at the sudden noise. “All right, then, let’s see…”

A minute later he manages to open the door just a sliver and peek inside.

“Well, good news, there’s your books. I can see the name of one of those dratted Bembridge fellows on the cover. Bad news: something’s blocking the door and I can’t get it open without forcing it – hang on –”

Jonathan pulls on the door, Evelyn steps closer to hear what he’s muttering, and that is when a few things seem to fall on their heads at the same time: something heavy, a cloud of dust, an angry screech, the flapping of wings brushing their skulls. Jonathan yelps, Evelyn cries out. Her candle falls to the floor, instantly snuffed out, but the light managed to give her a glimpse of teeth, feathers, and – scales?

A hand grasps hers and tugs her onwards. She runs along without hesitation, barely registering that they’re racing down the stairs and across the wing to Jonathan’s room, until they’re safe and secure behind the door, covered in dust, chests heaving, their hands on their knees.

“What the hell was that?” gasps Jonathan. Evelyn is too out of breath to answer right away. She’s too busy trying to shake the sensation of lightning coursing through her whole body, like her whole person is reduced to a small human-sized wire.

When she’s able to make sounds other than panting, she groans.

“My books! We forgot the books!”

“We were attacked by a monster and that’s the first thing you say?”

“But that was the entire reason we… We have to go back!”

“And we will, but in the morning, when we can see more than five inches in front of us. And won’t be set upon by nocturnal chimeras.”

“Well,” Evelyn declares mulishly, struggling against the remnants of the terror that made her fly down the stairs as fast as though the wings had been hers, “I’m going. I won’t be able to sleep for a while anyway, I might as well have something to do.”

“Evy.”

“You’re welcome to stay here if you’re afraid, of course.”

“Evy.”

“But you will not stop me from—”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. The next thing she knows he drops three heavy volumes into her arms, so covered in dirt one can hardly decipher the titles on the cover.

“Here are your blasted books, you lunatic! And the next time you need something retrieved from wherever it’s ended up then you’re welcome to—”

It’s not easy to embrace another person while holding books that might be a little more massive than one can safely hold with one arm. That doesn’t stop Evelyn from following her impulse and throwing herself in her brother’s arms before he can finish his sentence. Emotions race through her – retroactive fright, a remnant of righteous anger at being denied what she loves most to do, relief at the return of her favourite books – and she knows better than to fight them. Instead she burrows her nose into the front of Jonathan’s dressing gown and lets them run their course.

Jonathan sighs into her hair and wraps his arms around her. If she doesn’t grow taller quickly he’ll soon be able to put his chin on top of her head. Usually she’s tempted to be a little miffed about that. Right now, it doesn’t sound so bad.

“I don’t… I didn’t mean that.”

I know, she thinks, letting the familiarity of his voice and his wiry frame wash the rest of her nerves away. She was fully prepared to march back up those stairs and into the attic, and now she’s unspeakably grateful that she won’t have to.

Later, when they’ve dusted off their nightclothes, Evelyn hops into bed with her brother. She does it every now and then when she can’t sleep for this or that reason, more rarely since he has gone away to Eton and only comes back in the weekends. Even if he complains that her feet are cold he never turns her away. As always, their whispered conversation carries late into the night. Evelyn is drowsing already when she asks, “What do you think happened, exactly, back there?”

“I don’t know,” whispers Jonathan, eyes closed, “and I don’t care. Whatever it was, it won’t bother us now.”

Evelyn agrees and finally falls asleep, secure in the knowledge that she is safe and, perhaps more importantly, so are her books.

※ ※ ※ ※

The next morning, they wake up at an ungodly hour to retrieve Evy’s candleholder and erase all traces that suggest they recently set foot in the attic. They approach the cabinet cautiously, only to find a moth-eaten stuffed crocodile’s head on the floor covered in bird droppings and what looks like a little owl’s feathers. The ‘trophy’ – probably older than their parents – must have been left on top of the cabinet for ages, wedged against the top of the door, effectively preventing anyone from opening the door completely.

Jonathan looks down, then up, then down again, and says, “There’s our chimera. Looks like we survived a crocodile attack last night.”

Evelyn makes a face. The memory of their undignified rout stings, especially now that it’s obvious there was nothing to get so scared about. Startled, yes; scared, no.

“I wonder if we frightened that poor bird away for good,” she muses as they set everything to rights as silently as they can.

Jonathan, who wandered off looking for the point of entry, looks over his shoulder and says, “I hope so. I don’t fancy this attic becoming an aviary. There are too many interesting things here to leave them left for the birds, so to speak.” He plugs an owl-sized hole in a windowpane with a rag and adds with a grin, “The things you’ll do for books, I swear.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Evelyn counters, feeling a similar wide smile make its way on her face.

And Jonathan, who usually has a ready sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue, only shakes his head with a snort.

Books – both their contents and their physical form – are important to Evelyn in a way they aren’t to Jonathan. Perhaps they’ll never really understand each other on this. But perhaps it doesn’t really matter, either.

After all, even if he isn’t up to standing up to a chimera in the dead of night any more than she is, her big brother still knows her well enough to know that Evelyn Carnahan will only leave a book behind in the direst of circumstances.

(There you go! Not my best prose, I’m sorry, but it’s the best I could hammer out into shape ^^’ I have a lot of feels about these two and I’m always glad for the chance to explore these feels, so thank you, dear anon 💜)

[amajikilvr]

headcanon corner - tamaki amajiki sfw alphabet

word count 1.5k

reader type gender-neutral

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Due to his anxiousness, affection, whether it be verbal or physical, is something that’s difficult for Tamaki to handle. He’s a flustered mess when it comes to receiving it and his brain malfunctions when it’s the other way around. At the very beginning of any type of relationship, he’ll probably come across as withdrawn, but with some time, he’ll become more comfortable and more like himself. He’s actually quite a sweetheart. Not very touchy, but when he’s feeling brave, you’ll be getting plenty of timid yet heartfelt compliments.

B = Best Friend (What would they like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think Tamaki gravitates towards cheery and bubbly people like his fellow members of the Big Three. He needs someone bright and encouraging but recognizes and respects his limits and won’t pressure him too much. You would definitely have to be the one to initiate things and be somewhat tenacious, not overbearing, for a friendship to eventually spark.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Ha. Enjoying them and surviving them are two very different stories… Assuming Tamaki and you are together and comfortable at this point, I’d say he definitely likes the cuddles, but don’t expect him to say much while they’re actually happening. He’ll be flushed and a bit shaky without fail. When he’s the little spoon, which is often, he’s particularly fond of having his ears played with.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think he would be eager to settle down and get serious with you. Of course, there’s a good deal of hesitance involved out of fear that his wishes won’t be reciprocated. As for cooking, I think he’s skilled and kinda a foodie person because of the requirements of his quirk. You will definitely be enjoying breakfast in bed at one point or another. He’s a pretty neat person overall.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Honest and straightforward. No matter how difficult it is and how nervous he is, Tamaki won’t let any of that get in the way of him getting his message across. He’ll make sure it’s clear and that you understand his intentions. It won’t be a messy or dramatic type of thing, but he will be crying.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

When Tamaki commits, he COMMITS, but he’s always so fearful of it being one-sided. It’s one of the bigger insecurities. He’d probably end up marrying you at a pretty common age, not particularly young or particularly older if that’s what you wanted.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is a gentle boy. So much so that you’ll have to often remind him that you won’t break. Tamaki’s kisses and touches are soft, sweet, and fleeting. And he isn’t one for tough love so his words of comfort or encouragement will always be gentle and reassuring.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Despite his shyness, Tamaki is an absolute fiend for hugs and you’ll be receiving a surprising amount of them when he’s feeling up to it. Lots of “goodbye” and “hello” hugs. When he hugs you, he’ll wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on the top of your head. His hugs are nothing but warm and tender.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the l-word?)

Not too long into the relationship, Tamaki says it impulsively one day and immediately clamps a hand over his mouth. He couldn’t help it, he had just felt so happy and, well, in love with you at that moment. His nerves and embarrassment do get the best of him and he ends up avoiding you for a few days afterward.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Tamaki can be a pretty jealous person at times, but he would never dare take it out on you or even purposely bring it to your attention. He’ll probably just be extra clingy and a little more touchy than he usually would be.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

SOFT. SOFT. SOFT. Sometimes so gentle and sometimes so passionate that you’re shocked he had it in him. Like, woah there. Usually, it’s a lot of butterfly kisses and he tends to shyly leave them on your lips and forehead. And again, I’m just going to say HIS EARS. Please kiss them! He also likes cheek kisses because they’re subtle and sweet.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Nervous and the kids can tell. His aloofness isn’t exactly something that children are drawn to, so babysitter Tamaki probably isn’t going to happen anytime soon. It’s cute to watch him interact with Eri, though.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Have I already mentioned soft? Well, yeah that. He treasures those warm morning cuddles. Most of the time, you’ll wake up to him looking at you with a sleepy smile. He’ll always make your favorite breakfast too because that boy can cook and he loves doing it for you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

After a long day of socializing and being in the public eye as a hero, Tamaki prefers to rewind and relax with you in the evening. Even more cuddles, of course. You two will watch many movies and eat lots of midnight snacks.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You wouldn’t expect Tamaki to open up to you so quickly, but he can’t exactly help it. He wears his heart and emotions on his sleeve and while it’s hard for him to get close to someone, it’s even harder for him to hide things from you. Finding out about his past, family, and little quirks is an adventure of catching onto the subtle clues he unintentionally leaves you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Although Tamaki is surely an emotional and passionate person, he isn’t the type to just get angry without being very much provoked. You’ll probably see him most heated when something hurts you or others he loves and during situations of unjust.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

Everything. For example, your favorite movie from when you were little? He’ll put it on when you’re feeling sad. He knows you like the back of his hand and isn’t even embarrassed about it.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It’s actually before you two even officially got together! Tamaki didn’t think that cute smiley person was actually serious about wanting to get to know him better, but you proved him wrong when you approached him at lunch with a huge grin that made his heart jump.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Protective is an understatement when it comes to you. Whatever you need, Tamaki’s willing to give it and more. As for him, your understanding, support, and kind words are what makes him feel safe and protected.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

When it comes to your relationship, Tamaki gives his everything. Nothing tends to slip his mind, not even the smallest anniversary. It’s mostly a matter of him being a devoted and caring person but there’s also a small part in the back of his mind that fears he’s not enough for you and will somehow disappoint you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Doubting and undermining himself, but Tamaki definitely gains more confidence everyday with you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Tamaki’s appearance isn’t something he worries too much about compared to his other insecurities. It kinda gets pushed to the back of his mind and that might be for the better, but your frequent compliments have made him begin to feel good about his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. You’re his everything, no question about it. Besides Mirio, there’s not too many people he can stomach being himself and unguarded around so you’re more special to him than you’ll ever know.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

His love language is words of affirmation.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

A partner who’s flighty wouldn’t work for Tamaki. He craves and needs stability so that non-commitmentment would be a no-no. Someone who’s overly pushy wouldn’t be ideal either.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

His anxiety sometimes gives him a bit of insomnia so some nights you might find him up and watching tv and such. He’ll always insist you go back to bed rather than join him and keep him company, though.

[goodtimingz]

dreaming you would come true

intro. pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4. pt5.

AN: i am so sorry this is terrible and i’m pining for this experience. it took so long and im sorry 😭💗 ty for reading

tags: studentlife, jae day6, fluff, college!au, sexual acts implied.

: the one where you meet jae in your second year of college and it’s basically love at first sight. just little excerpts of what i think a relationship w jae would be like c:

2k words

As time goes by, as my feelings grow, I’m becoming more anxious.

Jae was great at many things, playing guitar, singing, annoying you, collecting hoodies, skateboarding (Ehh), but he wasn’t good at one thing.

Losing.

Which is exactly what he was doing at the moment. The boys had decided to play a game of basketball before their first-year friend Dowoon returned home over the break. It was close to midnight and freezing, but the burn of competition heated Jae as he attempted to steal the ball from Younghyun.

“Park Jaehyung, when are you heading back again?” Kim Wonpil had a way of being annoying that totally matched Jae’s wavelength. It pissed him off and simultaneously made him affectionate to the boy.

Last week when Wonpil had walked in on the two of you, Jae had watched as you scolded Wonpil for acting so stern while he sat there shyly. He would never admit that Wonpil had low-key scared him for a second, because he resembled a bunny and it was embarrassing for Jae's pride.

“Ya, Kim Wonpil you should knock! You’re the one who poured the wine last night!” Wonpil had winced at your voice most-likely as hungover as Jae and you.

Jae can remember the cute frown on your face like it was 10minutes ago. He adored you and he had pulled Wonpil aside later on, making sure to get into his good books considering how close you were to him. 

“Jae are you gonna answer me, or continue defending terribly?”

“I wouldn’t have to defend terribly if someone could actually guard Dowoon.”

Wonpil rolled his eyes at that, stealing the ball from Younghyun (miraculously). “I’m heading back on Saturday, so you have 3 more days with me and Y/N!” A cheesy, shit-eating grin spread across Jae’s face as he received the ball from Wonpil.

“How are you and Y/N?” Younghyun yelled as he subbed with Sungjin. Sungjin was a funny guy to be around and Jae had met him in the cafeteria one day. He wasn’t awkward but he was different to most guys Jae had met. Nevertheless the 4 guys (excluding Jae.) totally vibed and that’s all Jae cared about.

The more times Jae was reminded of you, the more he wanted to put the ball down and text you. You’d been talking all week about how sad you were that you couldn’t go home for the break. He wanted to stay with you more than ever. The beginning of the relationship was always the most fun and he hated being apart from you. He hadn’t even formally asked to be his girlfriend yet and he was kicking himself for it.

,

“You call this playing?” You grinned watching Jae’s face crack a wide smile. The boys paused the game briefly to greet you. Wonpil mumbled, “Speak of the devil..” and you walked over to him for the sole purpose of shoving him gently.

“Now that Y/N’s here I guess you’ll step up your game, huh?” Younghyun teased Jae only to receive a shove from Jae. (You were one in the same.)

You walked over to the seats, too tired to try and distract the group any longer. Jae had told you earlier in the day that he’d be playing with the boys - which was a common occurance, so you’d busied yourself with trying to find a gift to give him before he left you for the break. After hours of searching, Wonpil had texted you to join them for a Macca’s run at 11pm.

So there you were, shivering slightly because winter had finally settled in. Your eyes were stuck on watching Jae play. His laugh, the cute expression he had while focusing, the way his lanky body swiftly moved. What in the world would bring him happiness that didn't break the bank? (student budget was a b*tch).

Everything about him was really really attractive to you and you couldn’t understand how you’d gotten so lucky to have him. Although he had yet to put a label on it, his arm naturally hung over your shoulder when you were together - which was every other day. You always received the weirdest texts from him throughout the day, and if you weren’t together, the night was when you’d get a “You wanna get boba?” “Let’s go to the skate park!” “Y/N come walk with him :( i’m bored.” All of these messages obviously melted your heart and you could only accept his requests.

However, your time together was running short with Jae flying home for the semester break. As the time grew closer a weird feeling in your stomach grew too, something like anxiousness combined with sadness. Without a label, would he still talk to you? You two never video-called unless you were in the same room trying to annoy each other. And even worse, when he returned would he still want you?

Stuck in your thoughts, you barely noticed the game had ended as Jae placed his denim jacket over your shoulders. 


“You’re shivering so much Y/N.” His tone was light while his hands caring, rubbing your shoulders to create warmth. You leaned into his touch, smiling up at him. The thoughts from earlier washed away the minute Jae came into view, which always happened. He felt like home and you were desperate not to let it go.

You both stood and Jae was quick to bring you closer to his side. He wore a beige hoodie and ripped jeans as usual, but he somehow made the basics look so good. “Don’t you wanna walk with the boys? Isn’t Dowoon leaving tomorrow?” You turned to look into Jae’s eyes before realising just how close you were. You could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Watching the way Jae’s eyes took in all of your features made you feel both flustered and warm. His eyes dropped to your lips and just as he began leaning in, Dowoon’s deep voice shrieked. Everyone froze, eyes on Dowoon who clutched his chest. “I thought I saw a ghost cat, but it was just a real cat!”

Because that was definitely worth cock-blocking. (Read: thanks dowoon.)

After hanging out with the group and eating too many fries, Jae walked you home with Wonpil. All of your soul wanted to ask him to stay by your side that night. He was flying out so soon and he hadn’t slept over since the drunk-blue-hair night, which in your opinion was far too long. You didn’t want to ask in fear that Wonpil would intrude or make things awkward, but you really just wanted to hug and talk for hours even though it totally didn’t suit Jae’s character. He didn’t seem the kind to be awkward but he definitely didn’t seem the kind to initiate the cuddle-session either.

"What's a bet I can stay in your dorm without Wonpil noticing?" With a smirk on his lips and his voice so close to your ear, you shivered unintentionally. Did he just read your mind? Jae watched in amusement, pulling your head into his chest mid step, "Hey Y/N don't get too excited!"

You threw him a bashful smile, egging him on. "You can try."

Wonpil looked back at the two of you suspiciously which in turn left the two of you giggling. You loved that boy like a big-brother.

,

Jae had succeeded. He had to hide behind a door for about 10minutes while Wonpil was in your room, and received a lot of weird glances but it was definitely worth it. The way you stood in front of him in your PJ's was enough to make Jae melt. But he couldn't help but notice the way your eyes glanced around without really paying attention to anything, and the way your hands fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously.

Something about you seemed off. He tugged the bottom of your shirt to bring you closer, watching your expression closely.

"What's up Y/N?"

Jae couldn't have guessed that would start the water-works but he watched as your face crumbled. Without a second thought he took you in his arms and brushed your hair away from your face. The way your hot tears fell onto his neck made his heart ache, he was confused but the sadness felt as though it radiated through your body and into his. You two had barely been this intimate before, you on his lap and his arms around your waist.

After a few minutes of silence besides your sniffles you pull away from him, wiping his neck with your sweater paws. "I'm sorry, your hoodie is all wet." Jae's thoughts raced and he could care less about his soaked shoulder. He searched your eyes with worry, waving off your statement. Your silence and the way you gazed off into space urged Jae on.

“You look so ugly when you cry, I find it beautiful.” Jae spoke softly, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. (lyrics from their song)

,

You wanted to shove him and glare at him but you couldn’t control the laugh that exited your lips. It was so random and back-handed but with good intention, just like Jae always way.

“You’re not supposed to say that Jae, you’re not supposed to see my cry at all.” Your tone is playful but the tears are still flowing and your voice hoarse. Usually you’d be embarrassed to show this kind of face to the boy you like but it was Jae. The past month had been so stressful and so fun with him. You felt like you finally had someone to mess around with at 3am when you couldn’t escape your thoughts. Finally someone who wanted to be with you without barriers.

The smile on Jae's face washed away his worried expression and gave you the confidence to confess your thoughts.

"Will you still talk to me over the break?" Your voice was meek when you spoke.

It was embarrassing to be so vulnerable and the position you were in didn't help at all. The warmth of being in Jae's arms and the way his thumb rubbed comfortingly on your hips felt so safe.

"Of course I will Y/N." Jae seemed so certain, his words filled with comfort. You sighed a breath of relief, but the suspicion and fear built high in your chest. As if Jae could sense it, he spoke again.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you to be my girlfriend sooner... I was worried you would think I'm rushing things."

The way he talked with a slight pout made you want to pinch his cute cheeks. Trust Jae not to rush things, he either made decisions based on a whim, or after hours and days of preparation.

"Jae, I like you more than you know... I don't know what it is about you but I feel so at home with you." You could feel the blush rising on your cheeks but the words felt so important. You watched Jae's expression closely, happy to see a small smile.

"I know this is kind of bad timing, but I feel it too. I really like being around you, is there a chance I could call a girl like you mine?" It was so cheesy, the way you sat on his lap suddenly felt overwhelming and perfect. Jae was obviously embarrassed but you could only lean up to quickly kiss him before nodding happily. Home. The feeling was back and it was without worry.

"Thank gosh." Jae's whole body relaxed beneath you and he leaned in again, this time with his grip on your waist a little tighter. The kiss began innocent until you felt his hands run up and down your sides, sending sparks in their trail.

You placed your arms around his neck before swinging your legs to straddle his waist just wanting - craving to feel closer to him.

"I'll show you how much you matter to me." Suddenly Jae's voice was deep and husky as his hands slipped beneath your sweater. The feeling of your hot skin meeting his cold touch filled your stomach with bundles of nerves.

Cuddling and talking would come later... For now the only thing you want to remember is the feeling of Jae’s touch and the shared urge to be closer.

[thekidultlife]

The Most Convenient Escape | Jihoon Soulmate! AU (1)

⍟ Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

⍟ AU: Fantasy/ Soulmate AU

⍟ Genre: ANGST, SLOW BURN, fluff

⍟ Warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, drinking, and sex

⍟ Word Count: 4.5k

⍟ Synopsis: For all your life, you have a deep disdain towards Soulmate Bonds, so much so that you are able to writeopinions about it in a local newspaper. However, as life would have it, you wake up one day bonded to a person you hardly knew. Throwing in an investigation, annoying roommates, and a revolution looming just beneath the surface, you had to seek for the most convenient escape.

CHAP 1 | CHAP 2 | CHAP 3 | CHAP 4 | CHAP 5 |  CHAP 6 |

AN OPINION ON THE SOULMATE BOND by Alex Fireflower

The Porta Persa Edition, August 17

If the appeal of romance and the idea that a person whose devotion to us shall surpass eternity exists in our midst, among the younger generations, if there was any doubt in this matter, then the recent excitement for the coming Soulmate Bonding Ceremony is its colorful illustration. Alas, our dear friends of the State! It is once again time for the great and olden tradition of Soulmate Bonding. Here in this land of abundance and prosperity which gifts are said to be owed to this venerable ceremony, we must lay upon our trust and our fate to ancient magic, which we wholly believe shall lead our hearts to our destined soulmate--our lifetime partner, the other half of our soul, and so on. 

Yet our dear readers, allow this humble editor to argue the opposite. 

 It is established that the magic of Soulmate Bonding allows two persons, at most random strangers, to be paired together for a lifetime; sharing either emotions, thoughts or senses. Such a practice has always been placed under a rose-colored light by the government which, if simplified in broad terms is, in our opinion, a blatant propaganda for an obsolete tradition which endangers the wellbeing of our citizens, a practice which limits responsibility and free will, core values of which this land has been founded upon.

 If we shall suppose that a relationship between soulmates is perfect and blessed upon by the great heavens, then cases of arguments and cases of abuses would not exist as pests of our society, the destroyer of families and the trauma of children. If soulmate relationships are the pinnacle of success in family life, then divorce laws do not have any purpose to exist in our civil code, as custody battles do not have a place in our respectable courts. We are all blinded by the garish lighting provided by this dictatorship; through their flowery and romanticised propaganda we hear in the radios everyday as we sit down for breakfast or as we enjoy our pudding after dinner. This poor excuse of a government which has deceived its own people, seeks absolute authority through the most invasive ways known to man, inside the most intimate partnership a human being could experience in their entire life.

 By consuming this tomfoolery, we become puppets to romance, to impossible dreams, thus vulnerable to the mandates of this dictatorship. It is said that men, whose eyes are set high above the heavens, are doomed to fall off the cliff’s edge. There ought to be balance between idealism and pragmatism, lest we suffer the consequences of our own torn expectations of a perfect relationship and a good life. By relinquishing our right to choose, to exercise free will, we then must forget our roles as individuals, solely responsible for the effects of our choices. We then shall blame it on neutral magic, on fate and the Universe, the mistakes of our own doing. Aye indeed, let us ought to create the most convenient escape from our own flaws and our indecisiveness. Let us forever be destined to depend our lives upon the forces of the Universe, upon accidents of Nature!...

You smelled like ink. 

 The ugly, artificial scent of a printing press; ink. You had it on your hands as well, catching a freshly pressed newspaper as the midnight breeze blew upon a stack by the window. It was late yet the machine kept whirring, pressing, printing as piles of paper grew into hills and mountains of South Porta Persa.

 It would truly be unlucky to trip and make a mess of everything right now, you thought, inspecting the warm paper for any misspelt words or misaligned layouts with a careful eye. 

 “Good enough for' ya, darlin’?” A voice deep and rumbling interrupted your close inspection, his tone mischievous and mirthful as he wiped his hands clean on his trusty apron, the metal wrenches on it clattering about.

 It was good ole’ Jupiter, the ruler of the mechanical movable type in grand Porta Persa, a man late in his forties with a receding hairline to match. You had always liked him since you were a child, in his long beard and ink stained hands, and his various adventures at sea in his large Galleon. Yet now he is a master of the press, and you were his client.

 Giving a satisfied smile, you shrugged, placing the newspaper on top a stack without minding. 

 "Better than anywhere else, my good Sir," you replied, a trace of a laugh hinting to escape. "Nowhere I can trust The Porta Persa Edition to anyone other than in your expert hands." 

 He chuckled, his belly rumbling; just as anyone named 'Jupiter' should be. "Then I'm honered lass! As I'm honored to be Alex Fireflower's avid reader!" 

 "Oh stop flattering me," you chuckled, patting his shoulder. "Ah, it seems quite late now, isn't it? I better go." 

 Jupiter nodded. "Aye lass, you're movin' to the Academy tomorrow, innit? Ya should hurry home now before anyone catches ya!" 

 "Aye, captain!" You replied in a singsong voice, quickly moving to the exit. "Oh and please tell Soonyoung, if he comes over later in the morning that I need help with the bags! Thanks, Jupiter! May Jove kiss you on the asscheeks!"

 Kissing his cheek goodbye, you bounced down the stairs as you heard him bark in laughter and raced back to the home you have been staying since you were a child. Even as a daughter of the city alchemist, you lived humbly with your father in a two-story house with a style akin to stale bread. Yet he was usually absent, either in the homes of the sick or in some faraway place hunting ingredients for his potions. It didn't matter to you anyway. 

 Snuck behind the back door, you eventually reached your room and lit a gaslamp on your otherwise messy desk full of paper and books. It never gets cleaned up in some way or another, you thought.

 Sitting on your bed, you watched the glittering lights of Porta Persa at midnight, wondering if Alex Fireflower's words in that widely popular newspaper would lit a fire in people's hearts. Despite your young age, being a writer in a prolific paper was anxiety inducing, knowing how much words could stir up a person's sentiments.

 From afar, you could hear a faint melody of a love song between lovers, soulmates. A concept you disdainfully look down upon, if your writings were any indication to that. The bonding ceremony never sat well with you. You never understood those who excitedly and eagerly surrender their life to the whims of coincidence and then live to become happy. It was either a pretense or an 'anyone will do' type of situation. 

"Oh, isn't the ceremony later in the morning?" You remarked, peaking at the calendar on your desk. You shrugged. 

In any case, you have been prepared to deny this unwelcome intruder. It took a while to research but there were ways to suppress the connection between soulmates, mostly elaborate spellwork and potions. Yet you have been ready for years, almost a decade: casting spell upon spell on yourself and drinking disgusting potions, truly glad that you had an alchemist for a father. Now nothing will stand in the way between you and your aspirations. 

Getting a bit sleepy, you snuck in your sleeping gown and laid on the bed. Closing your eyes, and for once, leaving the rest for the Universe's turn in this game of chance. 

The next thing you came to was a dull throb on your head, something akin to a mediocre hangover, and a loud rapping on your front door. It was late in the morning. The birds were chirping, the loud clattering of bustling human activity and Soonyoung’s rather energetic shouting on your front door was grating on your ears. 

You tried to think of any reason why you were particularly not feeling a hundred percent today yet was once again interrupted by Soonyoung calling you out. 

Rolling off your bed however, made everything come crashing down on you. You lurched on the floor, thinking about throwing up yet none came, only your empty coughs and an uncomfortable pressure on your diaphragm were there. Your limbs were weak and trembled as you tried to lift your leg up, inevitably stumbling back to the floor and hitting your back against the bedpost in a painful thud. 

What is this…? 

In your pain, you grit your teeth, unable to utter anything with your dry throat. You tried to massage your temples to alleviate the throbbing, yet that was the exact moment you realized what was actually happening. With eyes as wide as saucers and a heart rate that seemed to increase in great increments, a cold sweat ran down your spine as you saw what was on your wrist. A cynical grin on your lips, you scoffed at the chances.  

 “...dammit,” you squeezed out, glancing at the bracelet-like tattoo around your wrist, in its clear straight horizontal bars and iridescent shine whenever you turned it around. You almost laughed at how ridiculous things were. Your greatest nightmare has happened while you were asleep. A bond has been formed. 

Finally having some sort of clarity, you were suddenly feeling much better, knowing what to do next. Dragging out a chest underneath your bed, you fished out a concoction which would weaken the suppressants you had induced upon yourself over the years. 

This was the side effect, you considered as you took the potion in one swallow. The suppressants would make you feel terribly ill, more so because this was day zero of the bond, but it will effectively block out the connection. On the other hand, you can weaken the blockage, yet it would as well restore the connection between you and your soulmate.

You cringed at the thought, yet there was no other choice. Today was moving day and you knew, without a doubt, that left alone for any longer, Soonyoung would break into your house, worrying something had happened to you. Something  did happen, yet it was none of his concern.  

And speaking of the devil, there he was rushing into your room; panting and sweaty from probably climbing the terrace and into one open window, as you hid your trunk of potions back under the bed. 

“Y/N! “ he  shouted, barging inside and spotted you dusting your lap as you stood up. “You weren’t answering the door, so I--“

“I’m fine,“ you interrupted, sensing energy forming at the base of your stomach as it wells up and stretches into a thin string. Hopefully, the amount of potion you drank was not too strong enough to lower your walls.

You shook your head. “Anyway, can you help me with my stuff? They’re already down the hallway, so we only have to carry them to the terminal.” 

“Oh, sure, sure. But seriously, are you alright?” Soonyoung asked, noting you were more closed off than usual. You only turned your back at him and walked towards your closet. 

“I’m fine, Soonyoung. Don’t worry,” you dismissed him. “Now, could you please allow me to dress myself up?” 

He was quiet for a while but eventually nodded, and left you in your ministrations. Sighing as he closed the door and disappeared, you struggled to keep yourself up. Just by lowering the suppressants, a tidal wave of thoughts barraged inside your head, immediately overwhelming you. They were obviously not yours and now you wondered if this was your connection, and if your soulmate was also thinking what you were thinking at that moment. Before you could arrive at an answer though, the thoughts once again stopped and your mind calmed down. 

You breathed in and out. There was no way you could truly understand what was happening. You can only form conjectures and draw theories yet none of them were absolutely irrefutable. You couldn’t understand why it suddenly stopped, but  nevertheless it was a welcome development. You can finally finish your chores without disturbance.  

As soon as you were done, you went downstairs to look for Soonyoung who seemed to have been waiting at the drawing room. He had already hailed a carriage to carry your belongings to the terminal, so you guessed it was only you they were waiting for.  

“I hope no one has called the police when you climbed through the terrace again,” you greeted him with a smile, your personal trunk on your hands.

“Nah, they know it’s just me,” he replied, grinning back as he took your trunk. 

Soonyoung was a childhood friend, the heir of a fine and lucrative shipping company among many in Porta Persa. He has a natural talent in mischief and a bundle of energy, yet surprisingly hard working. Together with you and Wonwoo, who was another friend, Soonyoung was currently preoccupied with The Porta Persa Edition as one of its editors. 

"We'll be seeing more of each other from now on!" He remarked excitedly, helping you up the carriage before joining in as well. "If you know what I mean." 

You sighed at his rather indiscreet methods of discretely conveying that you three were running a rather controversial newspaper. 

"How was today's paper though?" You asked as the carriage began moving and jumping around the cobblestones. 

Soonyoung grinned victoriously. "Folks were deliciously eating it by the news stands and Wonwoo said the Parliament and the Royal Elders were absolutely livid with Alex Fireflower's piece!" 

You feel a sweatdrop roll down your cheek. 

"It's kind of scary with the way you say that," you replied, and then continued with a more confident tone, "but I'm glad they got the message. People need to wake up from this farce." 

"You seriously hate the soulmate thing, huh?" Soonyoung commented. "I mean, I can't really say anything since I don't have my bond yet." 

You glanced at him, thinking of your own bond and instinctively hid your wrist underneath your gloves. 

"Lucky for you."

By the time you both arrived at the terminal, it was all a breeze from there. The teleportation portals were not as busy compared to other days, thus with just a cart and Soonyoung by your side, you have officially moved to the Royal Academy of Porta Persa. 

The Royal Academy of Porta Persa, or just the Academy, was a state-ran university, yet the most prominent among other universities in the area. Atop a hill overlooking the main port, it was constantly covered by wisteria and cherry blossom trees all year long thanks to magic, painting a surreal landscape for all of Porta Persa to see. 

"Even if I've seen this from my window every night, this is still quite a sight to take in," you exclaimed as you both walked towards the dormitories. 

Soonyoung gave a small smile. "I was like that last year, you know."

Due to the prestige of the Academy and its quality of education, only a select few can attend its venerable halls of learning: the elite and the intellectually gifted. You were lucky to be part of the latter group. The entrance examinations were intense yet you still made it, happy that you were finally able to attend their Effective Journalism class which was the reason why you wanted to go in the first place. 

"I'm sure your dorm master will tell you later, but I'm going to say it anyway," Soonyoung started as he pushed your cart up a slope. "In the dorm rooms, the ladies and the gents are separated."

He made it seem so controversial that you made a deadpan look by the time he finished talking.  

"I think that should be obvious by now." 

 "Eh? But aren't you disappointed? We can't brainstorm article ideas together with Wonwoo, you know!" 

 "But we can just talk in the courtyard." You shrugged, not really getting Soonyoung. 

 "We can't just talk in the courtyard! People will know we're The Porta Persa Edition!"

You stopped walking. "Soonyoung, the newspaper is registered in your name. I think, except my identity as Alex Fireflower, this is no longer any secret." 

He gave an exasperated sigh. "You're such a killjoy!"

"Oh, look. We're here," you pointed out, totally ignoring Soonyoung's comment. 

The girl's dormitory looked especially lavish with marble and ornate columns. Lilac wisteria trees dotted the surroundings, creating a flowery curtain around the dormitory. On the entrance way though was a female guard and the dorm master.

"I think I can manage from this point on," you said, taking the cart from your friend's grasps, "Thanks for your help though! I'll contact you later!"

"Oh if you say so then! Hope your roommate's nice though!" he replied, taking a step back and giving a small salute. "I'll wait for you and Wonwoo in the dorms! See you!" 

You gave a cheeky smirk and saluted him back before pushing your way inside the dorm. As you entered, the dorm master welcomed you with a polite smile in her dark floor length dress and clipboard in her hands. She was an older woman yet lacked the frightening aura dorm masters seemed to have. 

"Good morning! You are Ms. Y/N, I assume?" She asked and you nodded, showing your identification pin as proof. 

"Well unfortunately, we don't have any room in the main building, which is why we have decided that incoming students have to stay at the refurbished building." She started as she began walking you across the courtyard. "There were a lot of students last year, we really had no choice."

"I see. Well, I'm ok with anywhere, to be honest. As long as I have a bed and a desk to write on," you replied, gazing at the fancy architecture prominent among all the buildings. 

She chuckled. "Don't worry. The rooms are considerably bigger in the renovated building with a private bathroom and a small kitchen, though you have to share it with another person."

"That's quite fancy, huh? Looks like I still have my luck today," you replied with a chuckle, pushing your cart forwards. 

Shortly, the building you were to stay for the rest of your years in the university pulled into view. It was indeed massive and frighteningly grand, and seemed like only the rich can afford such residence, which definitely worried you. It would be quite difficult if you got paired with a snobby and spoiled princess of some far away land. 

Entering the building, you noticed that the hallways were no different with its golden inlays and dark marbled floors. Ceiling to floor windows graced on your left as the dorm master led you to the third floor (via an elevator) and to a wide ornate door. 

"I think it's this room." Fishing a set of keys from her pocket, she opened the door and led you inside.

To no surprise, it was an extravagant room. In your front was a sofa set by a fireplace which serves a sitting room for guests. The common room proper was separated by french doors and a wall of glass which looked like sets of windows.

You slowly took it in, unused to this kind of place. Taking a step forward, you looked around: there were fresh roses on the side table, bookcases filled with heavy tomes and encyclopedias, a scent of nearby cherry blossom flowers from an open window. 

This was definitely not what you had expected. This large room fit for royals was not what you had in mind when you imagined yourself living in the dorm rooms of the Academy. And it frightened you. 

"Do...do I have to pay for this?" You asked the dorm master who was waiting for you at the doorway. 

She smiled. "No need to worry, Ms. Y/N. All of your expenses here are paid by the state."

"Is it really alright for me to be here…" 

Your words faltered, thinking about how lucky and privileged you were to be living in this kind of place in the next few years, while there were others who stayed in a much humble dorm room. 

"Is it not to your liking?" The dorm master asked which you immediately denied. 

"No, no. This is good," you said. Too good even.

Your thoughts you flushed out before it could convince you to just stay at your family home. That would definitely not be ideal at all. Tentatively opening the french doors leading to the common room, what you saw was definitely not what you expected. 

Fresh from an immersive bath was a man, not much older than Soonyoung, in his half naked glory. 

"Who on earth are you?" He asked and you froze. 

Frozen because all you wanted to do was to wake up from this horrible nightmare of a day, or you wanted to evaporate there at your very spot from sheer embarrassment. 

Without a word, you immediately closed the door and ran back to the door where the dorm master was looking at you in confusion. 

"This…! This room is clearly occupied! By a man!" You nearly screamed at her, yet still held a bit of your composure. 

You could still see the afterimage of the man in your mind, his dark black hair wet, his toned body only covered by a mere towel. You furiously tried to erase it out of your eye sockets before you sink into the gutter.

"Huh? But the records say this room is occupied by Iris Appleby," she replied in panic, checking her clipboard over and over again. 

In the midst of her checking, the man emerged from the bedroom, now much more appropriate in trousers and a button up. He seemed to be a bit annoyed from the disturbance, you noticed. 

"I assume there must be some problem here," he said coolly, hands in his pockets. 

If anything, you thought the dorm master had seen a ghost from how pale she got just from taking a glimpse of the man. 

"Sir Lee Jihoon! I must apologize for this inconvenience!" She exclaimed tearfully. Her panic had doubled and was now frantically checking the records.

You blinked several times upon hearing the name, and then finally, it clicked a second after. 

The youngest parliament member, huh? 

"I'm sure there was some mistake! We thought this room was occupied by someone else, Sir! And it's the only available room we have!" The dorm master cried, and you grimaced. 

"Alright, madam. Please take a deep breath," you told her, patting her back. "We could check if there are other rooms left, okay?" 

"I already did through the clipboard! We have the dorm rooms monitored by magic tracing, yet in some way, only this room was registered with a wrong name," she replied as her shoulders sagged. 

"I don't mind her as a roommate," the third person involved finally spoke. "The rooms are separated and we only have to share the bath, the kitchen and the common room anyway." 

The dorm master seemed hopeful for that solution as she gave you a questioning look. Lee Jihoon also glanced at you, his sharp eyes seemingly judging. 

It's either here or back at home, huh? There was no way you're going back. 

"As I said earlier, madam, I can sleep anywhere as long as I have a bed and a desk," you replied with a reassuring smile and then gazed at Jihoon. "It's not really as bad as it looks." 

Ecstatic with your answer, the dorm master shouted her massive amount of gratitude and bowed farewell after giving you your keys.

Turning around, you faced Lee Jihoon who had his arms crossed, and an unimpressed look on his face. 

"I'm Y/N! First year History of Magic major! Nice to meet you, my roommate," you cheerfully introduced yourself yet was met with only sheer silence. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"This is the point where you also introduce yourself while shaking my hand and we then go on with the particulars of our own lives, never to interact again except when sharing the kitchen and the bath," you continued, clearly irked. 

He raised his brows at you in amusement. Taking your hand, he shook yours firmly. 

"Lee Jihoon, Magical Law, 2nd year. A pleasure as well," he replied, and then gave the most sarcastic smile you've ever seen, if you've ever seen one, before dropping your hand.

"Let's actively avoid each other from now on," he replied with his back turned. Walking away, Jihoon waved at you and then went towards his own room. 

Alone, the silence was empty. Yet you simply shrugged at the whole event. Having a politician as a roommate was way better than a princess.

Dragging your cart of belongings inside, you went to what you assumed was your room, opposite to Jihoon's. You noticed that the common room consisted of another ornate fireplace, a large gilded table and a high tech kitchen fueled by fire-charged stones. There were also a few pieces of expensive decor which would really suck if you managed to break one. 

The common room was fancy, and your room was, of course, no different. It was a bit bare yet it was already filled with furniture. The canopy bed was at the center; a tall curtained window behind it, as well as a set of chairs just in front of a fireplace. A desk and a few bookshelves was at the far right, near the door. Your closet was a walk-in type, you observed, yet immediately grimaced, knowing you never had that much clothes in the first place. 

Huffing, you sat on a lounge chair at the end of the bed. (It wasn't dusty, thank god.) Yet today was by far the most exhausting day you had. 

Removing the glove on your right hand, you checked if the soulmate marking was really there or just an early morning nightmare of yours. It was still there though, glistening against the midday sunlight from the window. 

It looked innocent that way, just black horizontal bars. Yet its meaning was something you wished did not exist at all.

--!!

All of the sudden, you felt a sharp pang on your head, followed by a sound of static on your ears and a barrage of muddled thoughts in your head. You grabbed a fistful of your hair to at least calm it down a bit yet it was for naught.

A bad migraine, you convince yourself. It was definitely not.

Struggling at the lounge chair for several minutes left you panting and nauseous. There was no solution to this as this was of course the result of you tampering with the connection. You felt like banging your head on the wall because of the pain and because of your own sheer stubbornness, yet that wouldn't really solve anything, will it?

Before you could even contemplate asking your roommate for help, the pain and the overwhelming confusion disappeared and left you in a state of clarity. 

Exhausted, you closed your eyes and sighed.

"I never knew you detest me so much, my dear soulmate." 

Those were definitely not your thoughts.

CHAP 1 | CHAP 2 | CHAP 3 | CHAP 4 | CHAP 5 | CHAP 6 | * A/N: HII! This is Hyeri!! (I deleted my first post ;;w;;) It’s been a long time! Here’s a JIhoon fic to start things up! This, I guess my goal for this is to deconstruct the soulmate au??? Srsly, I’ve been watching a lot of anime reviews...

[thepandapopo]

A Step Through Time Chapter 2: Context

I'm trying something different.

My previous chapter was written in active voice because I generally prefer writing like that (more engaging, easier to write etc. ), but I wanted to practice writing in passive voice as well. I've read so many fics lately where authors write in past tense and passive voice and it's absolutely AMAZING, and I wish i could do that too. Thus, I've decided that any Felix centric chapters I write will all be in active since he's technically from the future so present tense is as close as I can get, and any Sylvain centric chaps will be written in passive voice/past tense since it's in 'the past'. ish. kinda.

Pairing: Sylvain x Felix

Synopsis:

In which Sylvain wallows in his self hatred before Felix comes to provide him context.

OR

The one where Sylvain is so incredibly dense and Felix has to all but spell it out for him.

Please consider following me on Twitter to receive progress updates and notifications when I post chapters! If you would like to be added to a tag list for this fic, please send me a message :)

Fatherhood suited Felix.

But then again, Sylvain thought absently to himself, he always knew that it would. Although Felix put up an exterior that was colder than the frigid Faerghus winters, he was always patient and gentle with children; never hesitating to unwearyingly pass down his swordsmanship if asked.

Sylvain had always loved children, but the problem was that he did not love women. At least, not in the way that was needed to be able to actually form a healthy relationship and conceive a child. Years of being pressured with talks of marriage proposals and being clinically ogled by women who only saw him for his crest had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Not to mention he would never want his child to be shackled with the burden of a crest in this world. A crest wasn’t a status of nobility like everyone believed. No, it was a death sentence given shortly after birth.

He would be lying though, if he said that he had never imagined a faceless red haired child running into his arms with gleeful shouts of ‘Daddy!’ ringing off the halls of the Gautier estate.

But Felix. Felix had never cared about crests. No, Felix had always liked Sylvain for Sylvain. The youngest Fraldarius had always had a knack for stripping away the red head’s carefully constructed masks, peeling them away with his eyes like they were paper thin and nothing more than a slight hindrance, piercing down to his very core and laying bare everything that Sylvain was. And even when he stripped away all the beautiful lies and cover ups and only the gross ugly truth of who Sylvain Jose Gautier remained… even then, Felix never turned away from him.

Future Felix was… different.

Sylvain wouldn’t necessarily say that Future Felix was purposely ignoring him, but he was most definitely going out of his way to avoid interacting with the Gautier. Even now, as Sylvain stood partially obscured by the shadow of one of the monastery pillars watching the older swordsman sit patiently while his daughter – Sophia Gabriella Fraldarius, was how Future Felix introduced her - gleefully weaved an impressive assortment of wildflowers into his long midnight hair, Sylvain felt a tightness in his chest.

Although Sylvain entertained the idea of one day siring a child, he would give up that dream in a heartbeat for the chance to spend the rest of life with Felix.

He wanted Felix, or he wanted no one.

But Sophie… little Sophie was proof that Felix did not feel the same.

Goddess. He had taken lances to the stomach, and even been nearly burned alive by a Bolganone spell, but none of those could compare to the pain of having his deepest hope undeniably ripped away from him.

“Sylvain.”

He nearly gave himself whiplash with how quickly he swiveled to face the newcomer behind him.

“Oh hey, Professor! Didn’t see you there.”

“Are you spying on Future Felix and Sophie?”  Her mint eyes fixed on him in a cool, calm manner just daring him to lie to her.

“Ahaha…” he scratched the back of his head. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one, you’re hiding in the shadows.”

“Professor! I am wounded that you doubt me so.” He clutched his chest dramatically.

Although he knew that his puppy eyes never worked on his former teacher, years of carefully fabricated masks made it second nature and he felt his face contort into a sad pout before his mind could catch up.

Maybe this was why Felix ended up marrying someone else.

How could he ever want someone as fake and broken as Sylvain?

“Sylvain.”

“Professor, I swear I was just passing by and momentarily paused to see what they were doing.” Not a complete lie; Technically Sylvain had just been passing through the courtyard when he spotted Future Felix casually sitting on the grass, carefully watching Sophie as she went digging through the wilder patches of vegetation that had been ignored while they restored the rest of the monastery, on a hunt for any kinds of flowers she could get her hands on.

Except that was close to ten minutes ago and he most definitely was spying now.

Byleth looked at him with an expression that he could only describe as torn between complete skepticism and sympathy.

“Very well, if you insist.” Sylvain felt his shoulders sag with relief. “I will see you at our roundtable strategy meeting this afternoon?” She turned to leave but turned her head towards him waiting for his answer.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Byleth nodded her farewell and Sylvain watched as her overcoat fluttered in her wake. He would have to be more careful around her – the last thing he wanted was for her to invite him to a tea party so that she could grill him on why he was so distracted lately.

It wasn’t his fault that the presence of a certain child was making him act out of sorts.

“Sylvie!”

Speaking of.

Sylvain turned and smiled down at Sophie who was grinning at him. In her grubby little hands, she held out a drooping orange pansy.

“Oh, is this for me?” Sylvain kneeled down so that he was eye level with Sophie and reached out to accept the flower. Before he could wrap his much larger hand around the delicate stem, she quickly retracted her hand.

“For you! In your hair like Papa.”

The bright orange would look washed out in his own brightly colored hair, but he could not bring himself to care and bent his head to allow Sophie better access. When she was finished, she gave his head a little pat of satisfaction and he winked at her. “Does it make me look pretty?”

“Sylvie is always pretty! But not as pretty as Papa.”

“Oh, is that so?” From the corner of his eye, Sylvain watched as Future Felix approached and plastered on the most convincing casual grin he could muster. “Well, I suppose I cannot argue with that. Your Papa is very pretty after all. Probably the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

“Insufferable as always.” Felix rolled his eyes and settled against the stone pillar next to him. The words were familiarly harsh, but the lack of bite behind it made it seem odd.

Ignoring the nervous coil in his gut, Sylvain turned his attention back to the little Fraldarius child. “He looks especially pretty with all the flowers. You did such a wonderful job, Sophie!”

Goddess, current Felix was already strikingly handsome, but Future Felix was in a whole other league. While he normally kept his hair up in a long ponytail, today he decided to wear it down in a braid that cascaded over one shoulder, tumbling in a waterfall of ink ending just slightly below his chest. The stark contrast of the bright flowers in his hair served as a glaring reminder that this Felix was much softer and settled in his own skin than his Felix was.

Silence descended on the pair as Sophie dashed back into the tall grass to pick more flowers ‘to make Sylvie a crown’.

“So…”

“You don’t have to talk, you know.” Sylvain let out a nervous chuckle. At least the future Felix was still blunt and straight to the point.

“Sorry. Nervous habit.”

“…I know.”

Of course, he did. Felix could always read him like an open book; though whether that was from a literal lifetime of friendship or if it was because he was the only one to actually take the time to get to know Sylvain as a person was entirely up for debate.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Sylvain to calm his heartbeat, but after he had managed to wrangle his growing attraction to the future version of his crush, Sylvain had to admit that the quiet companionship was…nice. Not that he would ever say that aloud – given his reputation of putting his foot in his mouth whenever it came to Felix, Sylvain was one hundred percent sure that he would somehow mess things up even more, leading to the Future Felix avoiding him even more than he was already.

He didn’t want Felix to avoid him. Either Felix. But ever since Sophie showed up, his Felix began drawing away and sequestering himself even more than usual.

“…Just spit it out already.”

“What?”

To anyone else, they would have described the look that Felix had on his face as exasperated, but Sylvain knew better. Though he lacked the rigid set of his shoulders that he was used to seeing in his Felix, his crossed arms and cock of the hip was the same as always – closed off from the world like he couldn’t care les. However, the liquid molten amber of his eyes was enough to show that he was willing to wait for as long as it took Sylvain to share.

“Silence doesn’t suit you,” Felix snorted. “No matter how many times I tell you to shut up, you never seem to take my advice. The only time you actually stop blathering on is when you have something you want to say but you’re too scared to do it.”

Suddenly Sylvain wished that Future Felix would go back to avoiding him.

“Sorry. I just-“

“Sylvain.”

Backed into a corner, Sylvain blurted out the one thing that had made a permanent home in his mind ever since he had laid eyes on their time travelling guest.

“I like your hair like this. Long, I mean.” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. “It suits you.”

For a moment, Felix looked at him with an inscrutable look – almost like he was sizing him up while also trying to supress some unknown emotion.

After a brief pause, the only response that Sylvain received was a short but amused, “I know.”

Sylvain felt his eyebrow rise in surprise. “You know? What does that mean?”

“Someone told me that they preferred me with long hair. So, I decided to grow it out.”

“Seriously?” Felix had once chewed him out for simply suggesting that he buy an pair of fancier boots for formal functions, so the idea that he would grow out the one thing he took pride in his appearance for someone else was, for lack of a better word, complete bullshit. “You’re growing out your hair because someone told you they preferred you with long hair? I know for a fact that it annoys you if it grows past your shoulders and you never really cared for other’s opinions, so what’s the real reason?”

Felix shrugged, dislodging a white daisy in the process and sending it tumbling down before he caught it and returned it to its rightful place. “Believe what you will. You know I don’t lie.”

It was true. In all their years as friends, Felix had never once lied to Sylvain; not even when he was spitting mad at him for jumping into danger headfirst or missing training for a date with another nameless girl.

Whoever said it, they clearly had a lot of sway in Felix’s opinion. Which meant that they must be extremely close to him; close enough that he – oh.

“Did your…” Fuck why was his throat so dry all of a sudden? “Did your wife tell you that?”

Of all the responses that he had expected to receive, a violent choke and spluttering was not one of them.

“My what? Goddess, no.” Felix clutched his chest as he wheezed and glared at Sylvain with exasperation. “Don’t be stupid.”

“What’s so stupid about that? It’s a pretty solid guess, in my opinion.” Sylvain willed his voice to stay light and aloof even while his heart was twisting and doing flip flops in his chest. “You’d only listen to someone who you really cared about, and seeing as you’re married-“ he jabbed a finger at the glittering onyx band, “-I assume that your significant other would be the only one who could possibly influence your appearance choices.”

Everything in Sylvain’s body screamed at him to drop the subject and run away as fast as possible, but his curiosity made him stay even though his chest felt like Raphael had dropped one of his large training boulders on him. Distantly, a part of Sylvain’s mind wondered that he might possibly be a masochist.

“You…” Felix frowned at him and straightened to face Sylvain fully. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Tilting his head, Sylvain felt his brows scrunch up even as the question left his lips. “Know what?”

Clearly, he had missed a memo and was very interested in remedying that.

“Shit, I know you told me but I didn’t really think that it was true. There was no way it could be true.” The hand adorned with his wedding band came up to scrub down his eyes. It was odd seeing Future Felix look this uncertain; for a guy who had literally lived the present day already, it was strange that something could cause him to look so conflicted.

“Sylvain, you’ve never once gotten me to come with you to ‘pick up girls’, so what on earth makes you think I have a wife?”

“Uh. I don’t know, maybe your wedding band?!”

“Sylvain. I don’t like women.”

Yeah well, neither did Sylvain, but that was neither here nor there.

“You don’t need to like women to get married and have a kid.” Felix couldn’t argue with that. Sylvain was literally the poster boy for a noble trapped in a life of obligation to his crest. “Which you clearly do.” To prove his point, Sylvain jerked his thumb over towards where Sophie was still digging through the dirt and pulling out flowers by the bunches, adding them to the already overflowing mismatched bouquet in her other hand.

Felix’s hand twitched and Sylvain had the vaguest feeling that the man was trying his best not to stab him.

“No, Sylvain.” Uh oh. There was that tone again. “I don’t like women. At all.”

“Yeah, Fe. I get it. Women are awful.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why can’t you just understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Because you’re not telling me anything to help me understand! Give me context, or something.” Sylvain threw his hands up in the air in frustration. Clearly Felix did not learn to improve his communication in his extra twelve years of existence.

“Fine.” Felix groused. “You want context? I’ll give you context. Sophie!”

At the mention of her name, Sophie perked up from her place in the tall grass and hurried to scramble over, trampling some poor flowers and quite a large number of weeds in the process.

“Yes, Papa?” There are smears of dirt on her face and grass stains streaked across her dress, but despite it all, Sylvain thought that she still looked as radiant as ever. Of course, that was a given since any child of Felix’s was bound to be beautiful.

“Do you remember what I told you before about not mentioning that word?” Felix kneeled and tucked a loose crimson lock back in place.

Sophie nodded.

“I’m going to ask you a question that I want you to answer. Don’t worry about breaking the promise, okay? It’s fine to mention it just this once.”

“Okay, Papa.”

Felix’s gaze locked on Sylvain’s and he could literally feel the weight and purpose behind his stare.

He wanted context? Felix was more than happy to deliver.

“Sophie, can you tell Sylvie where you got your sword?”

Sword? What in Fodlan did a sword have anything to do with -

“It was a gift from Papa and Daddy!”

Sylvain’s thoughts screech to a halt.

Papa and…Daddy?

Sylvain. I don’t like women.

I don’t like women. At all.

For the second time today, Sylvain had half a mind to feel embarrassed at how slowly he put the pieces together; only managing to gape at Felix who looks half relieved that Sylvain finally, finally understands, but also half apprehensive.

Holy shit.

Felix fucking Fraldarius was gay.

[ineffably-effable]

further good omens fic recs

It’s been awhile since my last reclist post so here goes, please enjoy the rewards of my complete lack of self-control when it comes to this ship.

Please reach out if I’ve missed a tumblr tag, or drop a note if you have any recommendations I’ve missed! ( 31 recommendations underneath the cut )

(51k) Acts of Service by seekwill / @jasmine-cottage-uk

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

mood: pining, denial, secrets, idiots-in-love. 

(Warning: Don’t start reading this one at midnight expecting to put it down. Learn from my mistakes.) 

(44k) Mirror, Mirror by ImprobableDreams900 / @improbabledreams900

Crowley from an evil!au swaps places with our Crowley.

mood: butterfly effect, identity theft, Aziraphale!whump, badass!Aziraphale  

(40k) The Strong Tower by BuggreAlleThis

After the failed executions, a vengeful angel takes it upon herself to neutralise the threat presented by Crowley and Aziraphale.

mood: aziraphale!whump, protective!crowley, hurt/comfort, pining and fantastic world building.

(23k) You Might Think I'm Crazy (All I Want is You)   by soft_october / @soft-october-night​

Since the next shop over closed down, Aziraphale's had a peaceful few months, barring those unpleasant interactions with the men in cheap suits who keep trying to persuade him to sell his shop. But now a (handsome) new owner has taken up residence beside him and, horror of horrors, he wants to open up a coffee shop.

mood: fledgling friendships, obviously-in-love-to-everyone-but-themselves, almost-letting-your-doubts-and-insecurities-ruin-things, if-only-these-dumb-bastards-knew-how-to-communicate

(23k) names in history by lagaudiere

Maybe he’d shown Crowley how to perform a few miracles, but that Crowley had taken to them so well was surely a sign that he wasn’t all bad. And maybe Aziraphale had let himself be called upon to perform a few temptations, but that was just testing the will of the faithful if you looked at it from a different angle.

mood: slow-burn, through-the-ages, beautifully written.

(22k) This Soul Outstreaming by Rend_Herring 

Aziraphale constructs intricate rituals to touch the skin of other men (by “men” I mean Crowley).

mood: slow-burn, through-the-ages, forbidden love, UST, beautifully written. 

(29k) 5 Times Aziraphale was Almost Discorporated and One Time He Actually was by charliebrown1234 / @charliebrown1234

What it says on the tin.

mood: Aziraphale!whump through the ages, protective Crowley, hurt/comfort, wonderful characterizations.

(20k) In Pleasure's Clothes by obstinatrix, wishwellingtons

Three Times Aziraphale Stalked Crowley In Gay Clubs And One Time He Moped At Wilde’s Grave.

mood: jealousy, pining, miscommunications, idiots-in-love

(18k) Soft (A Love Story in Three Bites) by mia_ugly / @mia-ugly​

Crowley was an angel, once. Before she fell. Aziraphale was a warrior (she fell too. It just took a little longer.)

mood: ineffable wives thoughtfully done and beautifully written, pining, emotional vulnerability, hurting the ones you love, references to gothic romances that absolutely slay me, switching POVs between Aziraphale and  Crowley.

(18k) On Earth as it is in Heaven by JMA

Aziraphale was at Crowley's trial...the first one.

For six thousand years Aziraphale felt like an angel who has fallen, waiting for Heaven to realise. His fear and doubt has shaped and defined him. Now, with the Armageddon over and Heaven and Hell off their backs it is finally time to come clean.

mood: betrayal, pining, misguided attempts at atonement, miscommunication and forgiveness 

 (15k) Through Every Door by darlingred1 / @darlingred1​

After thwarting the end of the world, Aziraphale begins to avoid Crowley, and Crowley accidentally awakens his own repressed lust.

mood: mutually-pining-idiots, miscommunication,  immortal-beings-taking-turns-with-their-single-brain-cell, surprisingly-Crowley-has-first-dibs

(16k) Least of All by stereobone / @stereobone​

Every so often, Crowley talks to God.

mood: Crowley worrying after Aziraphale through the ages. Beautifully written, fantastic Crowley perspective.

(14k) Wine Fraud and Other Worthy Pursuits by ImprobableDreams900  / @improbabledreams900​

When Aziraphale, rare book dealer and part-time wine collector, encounters a bottle of 1844 Château Lafite-Rothschild he suspects isn't all that it claims, he becomes determined to track down the truth.

Unfortunately, the finger of suspicion seems to point at fellow wine collector Anthony J. Crowley, whom Aziraphale is already well on his way to befriending.

mood: suspicious Aziraphale and fledgling friendships  

(12k) Laugh When It Sinks In by Tenoko1 / @tenoko1​

Crowley stopped them in their trek, slipping his arm from Aziraphale’s grasp to face him, hands on his shoulders. “Are you sure you’re alright? A-are you having, like, a mid-life crisis or something now that Heaven’s cut you loose? You’re worrying me. What’s next? Cherry red sports car?”

mood: making a home for yourself and your charmingly oblivious life partner 

(10k) The Original Bar Joke by deathbycoldopen / @deathbycoldopen​

The way Crowley saw things, it was all one big joke, with him as the punchline.

mood: drunk!pining, idiots-in-love, jealous!Crowley, straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back moments, drunk!confessions

(8k) did you open up your heart there? by weatheredlaw / @weatheredlaw​

Aziraphale and Crowley meet over and over and over again. Aziraphale doesn't know what Crowley is, or why their souls can't seem to be parted, but he is a creature of love, and he's not going to argue with that.

mood: ready to have your heart broken over and over and over?

(7k) The Ark by rfsmiley / @redfacesmiley​

We’ve all been assuming that it takes them 6,000 years to figure it out, but what if it takes 6,300?

Or: the ineffable husbands evacuate a dying Earth.

mood: ineffable dystopian sci-fi romance (and yes, I love that this is a mood I can use to describe a good omens fic).

(7k) Where Thou Art by Mottlemoth / @mottlemoth​

A late-night bus to London, a few human comforts, and a long overdue confession... nothing will ever be the same for an angel and his demon.

mood: we-might-be-dead-by-tomorrow-love-confessions

(5k) Love Stories by goodomensblog  / @goodomensblog

Crowley goes too slow, Aziraphale drinks copious amounts of alcohol, and the bookshop is (very nearly) set on fire. Again.

mood: drinking because you’re an idiot in love (or because you’re in love with an idiot), looking after your drunk mate (only he’s not your mate he’s the love of your life and he’s finally starting to get that)

(4k) A Metaphor Of Some Kind by copperbadge / @copperbadge​

After the world doesn't end, Hell gets Crowley and Heaven gets Aziraphale, but not for very long.

mood: witty with great voices, loads of fun

(4k) One Sweet Moment Set Aside For Us by Arej 

Tattoos are like stories you write on your skin, and they'll say things for you if you'll let them. Or perhaps prompt other people to say things.

Or, Crowley is just drunk enough to get bold and let his guard down, and it leads to something he never thought he'd be allowed to have.

mood: pining, touching, reverance, love confessions

(3k) Something To Talk About by iamtheenemy (Steph)

Aziraphale jumps to some very inaccurate conclusions.

mood: pining and misconceptions, let’s see if we can make Crowley have an aneurysm.

Wow! Thanks for scrolling this far! You’ve unlocked the secret  “I’ll be in my bunk” section of the rec list! ;)

(That’s not to say the fics above don’t have their own hot scenes, or that the fic below are only  pwp, but these are the fics where the plot is either focused mostly on sex or the build-up to sex.)

(4k) left with no trace, as if not spoken to by drawlight / @drawlight​

Aziraphale's finger brushes against the edge of Crowley's hand. The theater is packed, it is dark. Everyone is watching the stage (no one is watching them). "Do you - ?" "Yeah, angel."

mood: Shakespeare may not have deserved this, but this reader is glad this exists.

(4k) I Tempt, You Thwart... Right? by AEpixie7 / @knightofthesevenfandoms​

Crowley accidentally-on-purpose roofies Aziraphale and then feels bad about it because Aziraphale is so high that he can't remember how to sober up.

mood: serious wing kink, drug-induced-loss-of-inhibitions

(6k) Appetite by spunknbite / @spunknbite​

Crowley places the macaron against Aziraphale’s lips with more reverence than the angel had thought him capable. “It’s alright, angel. Just take a bite.”

mood: drunk sex, overcoming inhibitions, first time, hand feeding 

(6k) The Better Part of Valour by obstinatrix

Said I, a few weeks ago: "I feel there’s also room for e.g. bedsharing fic where the apocalypse has Not Happened and they’ve fallen into queerplatonic (or so they think) bedsharing and Crowley thinks he’s alone in being driven slowly to distraction by it, so he says nothing. Then one night he wakes when it’s still dark, and at first he doesn’t know why, until he hears Aziraphale’s breathing a little raspier than usual, and feels the very slight trembling of the bed."

mood: bed-sharing-with-serious-insecurities-and-misunderstanding

(7k) a treatise on your fingers in my hair by Nimravidae / @tooeasilyconsidered​

Crowley sleeps for two days, his hair is a mess, and all it takes is a touch. Like a catalyst. Like striking flint, like a matchstick, like touching fire to gunpowder

mood: all that pent up UST has to go somewhere 

(9k) Released by vaguely_concerned / @vaguely-concerned​

After they get together Aziraphale has some lingering Ideas about his brief stint in the Bastille; Crowley is happy to help him explore them. Hijinks, as they say, ensue.

mood: french revolution era role play w/ feelings, fantastic dialogue. 

(17k) One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster)  by Atalan / @seaskystone​

Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

mood: flirting and first times

You’re still here? Can’t get enough? Well check out these amazing WIPs!

Slow Show by mia_ugly / @mia-ugly​

The Ineffable Pining Showmance AU that no one asked for.

mood: a more accurate summary would be the: ineffable pining showmance AU that no one knew to ask for, and everyone wanted more of. The characterizations in this are amazing. Crowley as a fallen film star is perfection. 

Shifting Heaven and Earth by BuggreAlleThis

For most of history, since he narrowly avoiding Falling from Heaven with Lucifer, Crowley has been working for the Angelic Corruption Unit. This ended up being far more boring than he hoped it would be, but things change when he is assigned to go undercover on Earth. His mission is to investigate Aziraphale, an infamous angel who has been on Earth since its Creation, and whom Heaven is sure is guilty of corruption or dereliction of duty. 

mood: slow-burn, betrayal, regrets,  aziraphale!whump, bamf!aziraphale

the bucket list by darcylindbergh / @forineffablereasons

If you’re going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

mood: saying the absolutely wrong thing at the wrong time, reaching your breaking point, miscommunication and heart break.

Still here? :)

My previous good omens recs post can be found here [x]

[lucarioisinthevoid]

I hate to be That Guy but I feel like the interaction with Dave {or whatever the thing in Hell is} was leading up to something. It's likely too early to ask for elaboration but I have no impulse control and not enough dopamine so I'm going to not so vaguely indicate that I want to see more if there is more to see. If there has to be a cast perhaps Mangle, Toy Chica, Ballora and of course Springtrap. If it isn't that deep, I'm sorry I wasted your time! Have a good whatever time you read this at.

(Absolutely be That Guy™, I LOVE That Guy™! Though frankly, I feel like you’re overhyping this, while I do have a bit of story around, it’s no good. Ah, whatever, there’s only like- 35 more days of this stuff, so it doesn’t matter if I write myself into corners. All these drabbles are EXCLUSIVELY written with zero brain, but still, thank you very much for that request. While I would LOVE to make a drabble with that cast, because it’s a fun one that crawls into your office directly, it wouldn’t be that lore heavy. So instead these people are just going to be cameos. Also, jumping forward in time by a fair bit Warning for a fair bit of torture!)

Time didn’t work right here. Time passed, but it didn’t. Not at all. He was allowed to drink and occasionally eat in the saferoom, but… Everything that would be an temporal indicator was gone. No natural light, no physical change coming from this body- At least he was still breathing and bleeding, but that didn’t make it much easier to define the timeframe he was in. Over and over and over. The night started over and over and over. He was growing more and more sick of it. The only interesting thing left… … was dying. It gave him the chance to talk to the animatronics- and to get to know the someone who was behind this place. The one he shouldn’t have killed. It was such a peculiar title. So pompous, it must have been made up by a child. But who the hell could that be?! There had been too many kids. The only really noteworthy ones being Lucas and Charlie. Yet it didn’t see like they were here- A meeting with the Marionette had been enough to prove as much. The day the words “I don’t hate you” came from the dangly creature’s mouth was the day he would simply vanish from the universe. And Lucas? Lucas was too kind, too hesitant- he had preserved his gentle nature, fighting only when absolutely necessary. There was no way he would create an entire torture location. Hell, he had even tried to ask Scott, but he refused to talk about it. All he guaranteed was that it wasn’t him. No, no, it had to be a kid- everything about this place told him that. He knew how kids worked and what they liked. A baddie that attacked you killed you within a second just because you didn’t watch his show? Ludicrous. And no, he wouldn’t talk about Toy Freddy. Some of the animatronics had nothing of interest to say- But many did. The real bothersome point that had been standing out to him was how… actually friendly the machines were. Yes, they HURT him, but they called him a friend, cracked jokes and their attacks oftentimes seemed like mere petty retaliation… as if they didn’t really meant for any permanent harm. In a world where nothing left permanent harm, their retaliations became rather vicious. An exception were the nightmares, but it seemed to be in their nature. Henry made notes where he could, as well as getting used to their method of attack and torture. It was a double win- … … yet he hated it. It frustrated him to have to invite some of them in. It felt filthy. Death was something intimate. If someone killed you, there should be some sort of purpose, some sort of connection there. It was another mark you could leave on a person. There was something appalling about offering your body, regardless in what way. At least to him. Alas, his blood was the only currency still existing in this world and at least he got to pick and choose when he would be torn to pieces, most of the time. By now he had become good enough. Good enough. Barely. Impatiently he clicked his nails on the table, quickly putting on the mask as the room started flickering. Toy Chica peeked through his eyeholes, grinning. “… and? Who has the honor today, Henryyyy?” “Not you.” “Aw! How unfair!” She pouted, looking out of the doors, trying to spot Ballora, who both of them could hear moving in the back. “We had sooooo much fun last time! What? You want Ballora to-“ “You testing out your cannibalistic fantasies is not my definition of fun, dear. And no. I need to talk to someone else.” “Pft.” Pouting she moved away, slinking back into the vent on the ground. “Fine! Have fun I guess. Better not let me catch you without the mask! Because if I get to win, I get to win, no exceptions.” “There will be no problems with that.” Henry quietly sighed, taking off the old mask. It wasn’t even a Fredbear mask. For some reason it was one of the most disappointing things about this place. Ballora drew close and he carefully closed the door on her, trying not to interrupt her routine too much. Nothing ruined a good melody like the sound of stomping doors. Today he wasn’t worried about the power running out. It all stopped once one of them entered. Everything stopped once one of them entered. A rule. Many rules. And none of them made much sense. Again his nails tapped on the table, anxious and almost angry. Mangle was probably already caught in a vent-snare… … but William took far too long to get here. William. Dave. Davetrap. Never mind that. Finally, the bemused mask of the rotten bunny appeared in the vents, staring down at him. “… having fun?” “… Dave. Good to see you.” Henry stared up to him. “We need to talk.” “Eh… I dunno…” Playfully Dave began crawling back inside. “I’m not in the m-“ “You can come in.” Instantly he had ALL of Dave’s attention, even though he wished he didn’t. It was always a little uncomfortable to see William overly excited, and usually he knew what exactly it was about at least- he wasn’t sure about this one. He wouldn’t put it past William to be elated over the chance to hurt him. Without repercussions. “Really?” His one ear twitched as he stared down, transfixed. Predatory animals, with two of their eyes in front. Human always have been predator and prey at once and Henry had known it from the very beginning, he had seen it in himself and others. It was merely more apparent in William specifically, him and his unstrained behavior controlled by nothing but instinct. “Really.” And yet still- this place was a hellish mess and his mind was just as much of one- it reminded him of back then, when William was utterly excited about an event. ‘Is it actually happening? Really?!’ Really. Pleased Dave laughed, loudly. An ugly laugh when you were on the receiving end. “I told ya, Henry. I told ya you’d do it.” “… you know me well.” Quietly he watched Dave move out, swiftly and nimbly- “… and you seem to know this place too.” “Is that why ya let me in?” “… not only. But I might as well ask you while you are here, correct?” “Hm.” His eyes wandered over Henry’s body. Probably wondering which limb he should separate from his body first. Henry shuddered. Dave got comfortable in front of the office table, smiling. Everything else had gone quiet, the power not even being visible anymore- But the timer was. Midnight. Putting his feet on the table and leaning back on the little chair that he had gotten from who-knows-where, the cyborg grinned.”… alright then! I was worried you’d might be disappointed, since I don’t know anythin’ about this place!” “You do not?” “Nah.” “… then how did you get here?” “Uhhhhh, probably for the same reason you’re here?” “… but you did not DIE.” “I didn’t?” Frustrated the Pink Guy leaned back too, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t going anywhere. “… what is the last thing you remember?” Cheerfully Dave giggled. “I don’t remember anything! Never had any memory! Head empty!” Henry wasn’t stupid enough to believe that. Dave liked messing with others- play-pretend stupidity that was aided by his genuine habit of being rather emotional- but they had spent far too much time together to have that work. “… I know you are lying.” Instantly the mood changed, even if Davetrap didn’t change the slightest bit about his pose. “Ah! Ya do? Or do ya just think ya do?!” Again he snickered. “Either way. I don’t know anythin’ that could be useful for you.” “Maybe I am not out for anything useful? Maybe I am simply worried about you and how you have gotten yourself into a suit?” Dave laughed, loudly, but Henry continued. “… do you need my help to get out of it?” “No.” It was cold. And Henry responded in kind. “… see that is how I know you are not down here for the same reason as me. So why are you here? Why would the one I should not have killed brought you here…? After all- you and me, we most likely killed him together.” Tilting his head slightly, the other guy inspected him and for a moment Henry tensed up, expecting to be attacked- but Dave simply relaxed, changing his pose, allowing his legs dangling over the side of the chair. “Hey, Henry! Did ya miss me?” All smiles and ice cream. “… it seems pretty lonely and borin’ in this office. And it feels like we haven’t talked in a long time…” For a moment the Pink Guy stayed quiet, watching the other one, who continued. “We’ve done so much fun stuff together! This place might not be all that bad if we stick together, right?” He paused. “That of course only means anythin’ if ya WANT to spend time with me. If ya miss me when I’m gone. So. Did you?” Slowly Henry stretched his fingers. “… of course I missed you, Dave.” Both of them watched each other, the air prickling. Then, once more, Dave was laughing again. “That’s why I like you, Henry. You can do such pretty things with your mouth and mind. Sayin’ JUST the right things. I always love when you talk to me. Or about me. Everything you say is like a charm, making things so much better than they actually are. The thing is- Henry- with a gift like that, I can’t ever know if ya MEAN it.” Leaning in, Davetrap inspected him, his big, white eyes almost all-consuming. “… if ya missed me, how come you’ve spent time with anybody but me recently? Ya invited plenty of people into the office. Despite knowing I was the one asking POLITELY for it.” Ridiculous. … yet Henry had to play along. “Please, remain calm my friend. I was talking to them first, because I was gathering intel. Last time I was not informed enough, and you seemed… displeased. Was I incorrect?” It was amazing how much emotion this mask could still show. Just below the rotting maw, the little shine, a grin and not a fun one, judging by how it didn’t reach his eyes. “You have an excuse for everything, don’t you Henry?” “Or perhaps I am simply being genuine and elaborate on my feelings and decisions as you ask me. You on the other hand seem rather hostile today. Would you like to explain why you are so aggressive towards me?” Both of them looked at the other, and while they couldn’t walk in that perfect circle that pacing and threatening humans always seem to fall into, their bodies still conveyed the same. Then, once again, Dave tilted into the other direction, his large ear following suit, smiling. “Aggressive? I ain’t aggressive, Henry! I’m just curious! Quit bein’ so tense all the time!” Slowly losing his patience, Henry rubbed his temples. “Okay, then. I do believe you are at least partially real. But logically you must have arrived from a different timeline than me, one where you died and got put into a suit. Why would you be so mad at me however?” Standing up from his chair, Dave slowly moved over, as Henry turned as far to the side as he could to keep an eye on him. “Ya need a massage, Henry.” “You know I dislike to be touched.” “Welp, is it MY fault you’ve made yourself so tense that you now need a massage?!” Offended the animatronic stopped, leaning down to him. Smelling like oil and peppermint. “Ya really should let me do what’s best for ya.” That WAS a threat. … at least if this thing snapped his neck, it would be quick, painless and unpersonal. Slowly and quietly Henry breathed out. “… alright then, Dave. Please continue.” Yet, even if he had made the agreement, didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous about it. When the fuzzy fingers touched his shoulders he almost jumped, drawing another, somewhat sadistic chuckle out of his former friend. “It’s funny to see ya like this.” “I live to entertain.” Yet another chuckle. “… ya sure do.” The fingers starting massaging, digging themselves into and against the muscles causing Henry barely anything else but pain. Sure- him tensing up his shoulders didn’t help at all, but he couldn’t react any other way, the impulse to tense up was simply bypassing his brain. The other man behind him was simply humming his favorite melody. In the hall of the mountain king. “… remember when I taught you how to play it?” Trying to relax Henry began reminiscing. “Hmmm… yeah! That was fun! I dunno why people didn’t try to teach me an instrument before that, I think I would have really loved learnin’ it. Good that I met you!” “Indeed. Good that you met me.” … there was discomfort, a genuine feeling of worry. Fear? Was this fear? A fear not caused by the direct expectation of physical harm, but instead by- By what? He was probably just- not really comfortable with the thought of not having William in his grasp anymore. William was like him- and that was why he liked and why he despised him. Whatever came into William’s head, he would do and there was nothing Henry could do to prevent it. Part of him would be somewhat relieved if Dave just- murdered him right here and fast. … giving up so early wasn’t really his thing however. “Will- Dave.” “Yeah?” The guy was still squishing and mushing away at Henry’s shoulders, seemingly not caring THAT much about actually relaxing his friend. “What’cha want?” “… I only wanted to ask… do you like it here?” For a minute or so Dave paused, really thinking about it. “It ain’t the worst. I get to play with ya, no fuzz, no more havin’ to try and shut down Freddy’s or kill kiddens.” Slowly his focused back on Henry, his next words deliberate. “… don’t ya think so? Immortality and animatronics, what’s not to love? Sure, the torture is a lil’ sucky, but hey, ya said you’d do ANYTHING to become immortal.” Something scraped over the back of Henry’s mind. Was Dave being manipulated to comply? Sold a false image of perfection? … or was he simply trying to torment him, trying to fool him into thinking that he ever asked for this? Either way. Leaning back, Henry tried to look at him, choosing his next words carefully. “… while I appreciate my robotic works being with me and having no reason to fear death- I do dislike the repetitive loop at the unending threat of pain. I feel… bored. Do you not sometimes wish for variety?” “Everythin’ is a loop, Henry. Ya gotta be happy with the loop you get stuck in.” “… you need more ambition, Dave. Accepting and endless repetitive cycle is almost as low as accepting death. There is no perfection to be found in remaining with the same variables.” Dave sighed and retracted his hands, causing Henry to sit up straight. “It’s fine. It’s fine. You’ll never be happy.” “Excuse me?” “… what would ya still want, Henry? What is it that you’re lookin’ for right now?” “I-“ Shortly Dave leaned over to check the clock. “Whoops! Five AM.” Pleased he turned his head to Henry, who had stood up as well, trying to get some distance between them. “Ya know the rules! I’m inside, I gotta… keep ya busy. Give you a bit of a slap around.” “You will hurt me.” Henry’s voice was blank. He wasn’t really surprised. But the Springbonnie just shrugged. “Oh, well- I never said I wouldn’t. I said I’d help ya. Which I will!” Taking out his array of tools, from within the damaged parts of the suit. Of course Henry was familiar with them. Acid spray, a tool with sharp edges to scoop anything out, knives, a tool to part the tissue when needed- Cleaning. Disinfecting. Getting out an infestation. The psychopath was giggling to himself, as he sat the things down, Henry suppressing his desire to run away with all his strength. No point to it. It only would serve to make him look pathetic. More pathetic than he already was, in this senseless situation. “Ya know, I’m really happy I get the chance! Ya said ya were the Lord of the Flies… but you gave me the tools to get all the crawlers out. What will happen to ya? Will you be purified? Or simply emptied completely? Do ya think hell is there to make people into better versions of themselves?” No answer. He sighed, signing towards the chair. “Sit down again, Henry. I’ll make sure ya won’t die! Not even for a moment. You will see this procedure through to the end…” No escape. He knew the procedure. The body needed to be cut open, like an autopsy. This would lead to plenty blood going everywhere- William had never been a surgeon. Too impatient, too jumpy, too- careless. But after all, he didn’t try to put it back together- he wanted to clean it, fast and efficient. The stomach and intestines were first, cut open and then the lining was being scooped off. The stomach had nerves. Some of the rest of the organs thankfully didn’t. Eyes too, eyes had to go. The tongue as well- and then acid would be pushed up the nose, letting it sit there, Dave believing it would clean out the brain before he would have to drill into it. You would have to deal with less of a swarm exiting the brain like that. But before that? Heart and lungs. William was obsessively exact and radically reliable in how he did this section. He believed he had to be. There were no bugs crawling, no insects nesting in pockets of rotting flesh. But Henry doubted William cared. Nor did he himself care, as the all-consuming pain purged thoughts first- And mercifully, eventually, the life itself too.

[serenitydusk]

Until Midnight

A fluffy fic request from my dear friend @nerdqueenkat​!  Just in time for her birthday!  Thanks to @ijwrff for being my beta!  

“I have a favor to ask you.” 

A pit of dread opened up in your stomach. The fact your boss was asking and not telling you to do something told you exactly how onerous you were going to find this task.

“And I’m asking you because I know you’ll do a great job.” 

And that just cinched it. “I’m going to hate this, aren’t I?’ You sighed.

“Absolutely.”  Gressil grinned. It did have a drop of sympathy in it. “I wouldn’t ask, but I cannot go, and you’re the only one I trust to not make a mess of things.”  He quickly explained that in all likelihood, you’d be one of the few, possibly only, humans there.  “Just mingle a bit, make some connections. Be seen.”  It was one of those parties that he couldn’t get out of without offending the host, but even he couldn’t be in two places at once. “There will be a bonus in it, plus overtime.”

In the end, he gave you the bonus up front, plus let you have the company credit card to buy an outfit and shoes. 

“Get whatever you need.” Well, you certainly had. You’d never paid this much for an entire season’s wardrobe let alone one dress. And the shoes. You had actually texted Gressil how much they were, expecting him to blow up and tell you absolutely not. But he had sent you to this place in particular.

‘That’s fine. Whatever you need.’

‘Gress, it’s more than my house payment…for just shoes….’

‘If that’s a hint for a raise….’  There was a pause, then a new text came through. ‘Ok. You should see the increase in next month’s check.’

You nearly choked. You’d never, not once, asked for a raise, and to be fair, you’d never really had to. Gressil had always been good about making sure you were well paid, above what was considered a competitive salary.  

You had to admit, you looked …really good. The guy that helped you pick out everything had been a genius and had made a shopping trip you’d been dreading into something that was almost fun.  

But all that confidence dwindled once you got inside and saw everyone.  Every. Single. One. of them was perfection. Perfect smiles. Perfect hair. Perfect clothes. Perfect bodies.  And here you were a fraud playing dress up and feeling like a potato. The anxiety welled up inside, breaking you out in a cold sweat.  You’d promised Gressil an hour.  One hour. And then you could leave.  And after about fifteen minutes you decided you could do this.  It’s not like anyone was noticing you anyway. You’d made your appearance, now you just had about forty-five more minutes that would have earned you a nice bonus you could use at Christmas.

“You’d think a place like this would have hired decent help.”  A man smiled at you snidely.  You weren’t sure what exactly he was, but he definitely wasn’t human. Not with the green skin and scales. “Do be a dear and run and fetch us some more champagne, won’t you? If you’re quite done gawking.” He looked back at his companion snickering, “Humans… barely worth the effort to impress really.” 

You looked behind you, trying to figure out who he was talking to, when it dawned on you that he was talking ...to you. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking… but I don’t work here. I’m a guest, like you.” 

“Oh, that’s cute. You’re nothing like me.” His smile took on an ugly bent to it. “It’s insulting that you think so.”

A deep laugh came from behind the green-skinned fellow, “You’re right about one thing. She’s nothing like the boil on the devil’s arse you are, Heulog.”  A tall man stepped around them. He looked ...more human than the green skinned man, at first glance. But it was clear that he wore only the thinnest veil of humanity around him.  His eyes were like molten silver and the pupils were cat slitted.  And his face … he had to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. “Come on, my dear. Let’s leave these jackeens to their own devices.”  He took your hand, deftly steering you away.  

Jackeens?  Who even said that?  He sounded vaguely European, but for the life of you, you couldn’t place the accent. Scottish maybe?  With a hint of something exotic?

He found a spot out of the way, a place for you to finally sit down as he handed you a glass of wine. “Dreadful party, really. Such a bore. I’m Ash, by the way.” 

Introducing yourself as well, you took the wine. “Thank you for that.”  You glanced around, not seeing the two jerks any longer. 

“They aren’t going to be bothering anyone here again.” He took a sip of his own drink. “And you’re welcome. I should be thanking you for giving me some noble purpose by saving a lovely maiden.” 

Your cheeks flushed at the ‘lovely maiden’ bit. As handsome as he was well, he probably just flirted with anyone and everyone. Giving him a wan smile, “I’m fine now really. If you want to get back to ..whoever you’re with here.” 

“Ah, well, I’m not with anyone.”  Oh he knew a few people here.  And liked even less.  Which was saying something for the gregarious prince. He sat down, “Maybe we can keep each other company until this thing is over?  At least keep each other awake?”  

Laughing a bit wryly, “That hard up for company?” Why was he even paying attention to you when… you looked out across the room and saw a sea of beauty that you couldn’t possibly compare to no matter how hard you tried. 

“I think you’re lovely company.” He gently tilted your chin, bringing your gaze back to his, “Inside and out.” He let out a slow breath, “Besides, you’re exactly what you appear to be and you have no idea how alluring that is for a change.” 

“What do you mean?” It was a struggle to look away from those beautiful eyes, but you managed a glance back out to the crowd. 

He shrugged as he leaned back. “Just what I said. You can’t see it, but that…” He tossed his head towards the crowd, “...is not what you think it is.” 

Well, that wasn’t nerve wracking at all. You knew Gressil wore a human guise, but you had never really thought beyond what was under it. “Are you telling me that everyone here is a monster?” 

“In one way or another, yes.” He didn’t seem particularly offended that you referred to them, ...or him, as a monster. 

“Even you?” Perhaps not the wisest question to ask, but the words had already left your liips.

Gressil had warned you once, “The illusions keep you humans safe, Don’t try to look past them.” And you’d tried not to wonder, accepting what you saw as what was real. But you couldn’t believe this gorgeous man sitting beside you was ...a monster.  Even if he wasn’t human.

“Perhaps especially me.” 

“I don’t believe it. You’re not human, but that doesn’t make you a monster.” You saw a look in his eyes as he sat back up leaning closer to you. A look you couldn’t name, some emotion that was so fleeting. Longing? Almost pleading with a hint of vulnerability and then it was gone. Leaving you to wonder if you had just imagined it. 

As you chatted, a new crowd of people wandered in and that’s when you saw him. Your ex. What in the hell was he doing here? “I have to go. I have to.” You stood, nearly losing your balance as you grabbed your purse.

Ash reached to steady you, catching you by your elbow, feeling your panic rise.  He glanced over to where your eyes kept darting to. “Who is he?” There was a hint of steel in his voice underneath the silk. 

You shook your head. “Nothing like that. Just …”  Dropping your head, embarrassed at your overreaction. “...a very bad decision that I let go on for longer than it should have. I just never expected to see him here.” He hadn’t noticed you yet, you could still slip out. 

A ...goblin? Ash could see through the glamour, but he doubted you could. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”  He rose. “Don’t run. He’s not worth it.” Tucking your arm in his, he stroked your cheek, “Please?” 

Shaking your head, “I have fifteen more minutes and I can go home.” 

Ash glanced up at the giant, ornate clock. “It’s not even close to midnight yet.” He grinned, knowing it was a cheesy reference. “Stay until then.  Be my Cinderella?” 

You scoffed, “You cannot be serious. This isn’t some fairy tale. Why would you want to be Prince Charming ...to me?” 

“Darling, why wouldn’t I?”  He frowned, clearly confused. 

Hot tears burned at your eyes and throat, but you’d be damned if you cried and ruined your makeup. “Because I’m a pumpkin not a princess?” 

Brushing aside the traitorous tear that slipped down your cheek, “Darling...whoever told you that you weren’t beautiful lied. They were afraid if you knew your worth, you’d know you were too good for them.”  He kissed your forehead and for some reason it calmed you.  If he had hugged you instead, you were sure you would have ended up sobbing in his arms. “There is a reason fae have stolen humans and taken them as lovers for eons past. You are beautiful.” 

“You’re fae?” You swallowed back a sob at his words.

His laugh surprised both of you. All of that only to ask if he was fae. Though, he was not offended, letting you move the conversation to less emotional territory. “Yes. My mother was.” 

At least until you asked, “And your father?” 

There was a flash in his eyes, bitter and sharp, “My father was not.”  It was gentle, but it was also obviously a closed subject for him. “Come. If you wish to avoid him, we can find a secluded spot and watch the party from the safety of a glamour.  Or you can venture out and be treated like the princess you deserve to be.”  

It was a tempting choice, to hide. But after thinking for a moment, “You won’t suddenly disappear?” 

“Not without you.”  Ash grinned, taking your hand and leading you out into the crowd. 

The two of you danced and he did introduce you to some people you could bring back to Gressil as potential clients. One of whom addressed your ‘date’...(was this a date??) as ‘your highness’.

Once they’d wandered off and you were alone again, you leaned close to whisper. “You’re an actual prince?” 

“An actual prince.” He nodded clearly amused at your shock.

“Your mother’s the queen?” You felt just a touch lightheaded at this revelation. 

“Sister, actually. It’s a bit complicated, but yes, she’s the queen, and as her younger brother, I’m a prince.” He spoke of it as if it were no consequence, though in truth, it was. He hadn’t been born into the role, both he and his sister had earned the right to be called fae royalty. It had been no easy thing for either of them. “It doesn’t change who I was five minutes ago.”

The idea of being with a prince was a bit daunting to say the least, but perhaps he was right.  He was who he was, title or not. 

It seemed like the hours flew by and before long the clock started the midnight chime. The two of you had found a quiet balcony, away from the noise and it seemed like the rest of the world had faded away. And you didn’t want this to end.

“It doesn’t have to…”  

Blushing you realized you’d said it out loud, “It does. I go back to work tomorrow and you go back to Neverland, or wherever it is you came from.” 

“I can always return, you know.  Or you could ...come visit. I promise I won’t steal you away unless you want me to.” He brushed a kiss over your knuckles. “If you’re interested, that is.” 

“IF?  If I’m interested?” You couldn’t quite believe this was all happening, especially that he’d want to see you again. 

“Are you?” A smile played at his lips as he brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, leaning closer as if he was going to kiss you. 

You were barely able to get out a whispered ‘yes’ as the clock struck midnight and his lips touched yours.

[dfcfanfics]

So What the Hell Did I Do This Year?

As if I have to tell any of you this... 2020 was one completely messed-up year.  COVID, elections, full-on national insanity... 

It was also the Year of No New Miraculous Content (outside of the New York special, which I have not watched yet, and about which I’m not completely sure where it officially fits into canon.)  So my stories have been in something of a post-Season 3 holding pattern much in the way that the show has.

Luckily for me, that post-Season 3 status (the Adrigaminette triangle) is rich with storytelling possibilities.  Just about everything that I wrote this year revolved around that dynamic and how it might end up resolving.

LONGFICS:

Stuck In A Bakery (With You) (Complete) (AO3)

When a medical crisis appears to threaten the Agreste household, Gabriel's first impulse is to send his son far away from potential danger. (One does not risk the company's most valuable asset, after all!) While visiting Marinette at her house, Adrien gets the word that he's about to be spirited away to stay with distant relatives for the duration.

But this is the Dupain-Cheng household... and they may have other ideas as to how a less traumatic self-quarantine might be arranged.

My big story for the year, and going by the numbers, my biggest hit yet.  I was a little bit wary of writing a COVID story in this context, but I decided to try something a little different; short, rapid-fire chapters, posted one-per-day for quite some time.  I was cooped up, I was feeling creative, and I felt like entertaining people in the same boat.  

This one was a slow-burn for the ages.  With Our Heroes in captivity and Hawkmoth dormant, Marinette and Adrien explore what they mean to each other, share a bathroom, do their best to avoid hurting Kagami (as Adrigami was an in-progress thing when the quarantine hits) and decide what comes next.  Tom and Sabine manage the business in troubled times while supporting the budding relationship, Gabriel and Nathalie insert themselves into events, the classmates do their best to grasp what’s going on, and a good deed done wrong proves most impactful.

No one gets sick or intubated or buried, even as the realities of the virus and its impact remain present. This is not Pandemic Porn. This is fluff and comfort and two nervous kids learning about each other up close.

Throw Me Around Like One Of Your French Girls (WIP)  (AO3)

Reflecting upon an unpleasant encounter, Marinette makes a small realization... as Ladybug, she can defend herself with ease, but what happens if she's facing down unwanted physicality as Marinette? It's a good thing that she happens to know a classmate who's studying the martial arts, if he'd be willing to teach her some things?

A short multi-parter, a pleasant distraction from the continuing It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time. Fluff, fashion choices, twisted arms, friendship, tension and tap-outs.

The next variation on the triangle’s developments.  It started as a small rumination on what happened in Felix (namely Ladybug punching his lights out), with Marinette learning some Aikido from her handsome classmate.  With Adrigami still happening, Marinette feels much more relaxed around him... and with Marinette relaxed around him, Adrien is increasingly captivated by her.  (Lukanette is Not Quite A Thing Yet in this, though certainly possible.  Luka is Mr. Not Appearing Much In This Year’s Stories Of Mine.)

Unlike in Stuck In A Bakery, Kagami can and does meet with both of them throughout. There is a definite connection each way, and a need to pass the Bechdel Test -- Marinette refuses to let her and Kagami be solely defined by Adrien.  .   

Still in progress, approaching its climax, kind of on hold because Delicate’s been more on my mind.

It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time... (technically WIP) (AO3)

A week ago, the friendly relationship between Adrien, Marinette and Kagami seemed to be blossoming on all fronts... But that was a week ago.

Now, Marinette is wondering what - if anything - in her life can be salvaged.

Then there's a knock at her door... and, suddenly, so many things are changing all at once.

A short flight of fancy, several small parts to come.

Round three in the Adrigaminette triangle -- and this one really _is_ Adrigaminette in nature.  

A highly stressed, frustrated and emotionally troubled Marinette has all the plates in the air right now.  Her wish-he-was-her-boyfriend is seeing her new friend Kagami, she’s not entirely sure if Luka would be an adequate substitute, she has her new Guardianship to contend with, and everything seems to be falling apart at once.

So, when Kagami shows up on her doorstep because Adrien abruptly dumped her... thinking isn’t the first thing on her mind.  Acting is.  And act, she does!

This is NOT a dump-on-Adrien fic, however, no matter how much it may seem so at first.  Adrien gets his turn to express why he did what he did, how he felt he was being unfair to Kagami by continuing, and why he’s just as troubled Marinette is... but Ladybug and Ryuko asking Chat what _he_ thinks they should do complicates that greatly, as you might expect.

I say TECHNICALLY WIP because I feel like it stands well just as I left it... but I feel like I could add another epilogue chapter or two to it at some point.  And perhaps I will.

Delicate (WIP, NSFW!)  (AO3)

A university-aged Marinette hears a cry for help on a quiet Saturday night, while walking home. Her glory days as Ladybug were years ago, but she still has her Miraculous, so... she investigates. What she finds startles her... among other emotions.

This is the one that I had told myself I would never write.  

I’ve been dismissive of aged-up fics in the past that were aged up simply to enable sex scenes without triggering the dreaded Underage tag.  Not as in “no one should ever write those,” but as in “this isn’t my cup of tea as an author.”  But a scene jumped into my head, and it inspired a thought... if Marinette and Adrien _did_ jump straight to age nineteen for the purposes of my story, what happened in those years in-between?  

“Porn Without Plot is like Faith Without Works” was one of the first tags on this one.  Yes, Our Heroes bump uglies in this one... frequently.  But don’t let that scare you off.  There is a lot of exploration here that doesn’t involve bodies, such as: 

Why isn’t Marinette actively Ladybug any more?  Why did Adrien disappear for two years -- and what happened on the night that caused it?  Why is Plagg absolutely furious at Adrien?  How will Adrien explain any of this to his onetime partner -- or to Marinette -- or to both at once, once he recovers from the shock of knowing that they’re one and the same?  And what will the other Kwamis think about all of this?

Lighthearted at its core, angstful when necessary, sexy without being explicit, full of difficult conversations and circumstances.  It’s not about what they’re up to; it’s about why. 

ONE-SHOTS:

A Little Promise I’d Made Myself (Complete) (AO3)

It's New Year's Eve in Paris, and at Rose's house, the classmates (among many others) are having quite a party. Adrien is sipping on his punch, watching merriment ensue, and wondering what the right next move is for him... until he sees a certain classmate sitting by herself, looking less than enthusiastic.

Can these crazy kids find a way to make it work?

Of course they can.

I’m cheating with this one -- it was posted in the last week of 2019.  But it’s New Year’s Eve and this is a New Year’s Eve story and I’m pimping it out, dammit.

Revisit this one and picture That Kiss when midnight arrives wherever you are, okay?

Perhaps I Failed To Think This Through... (CRACKFIC, complete) (AO3)

Gabriel Agreste's first transformation startled him with the changes to his physical form, the raw power at his command, and the endless possibilities that his magical proxies might provide.

But it's always a good idea to try a test run first... and maybe run your designs past a focus group, or something.

Crackfic based around Gabriel’s first attempt at villainy once gaining the power of Nooroo.

It... doesn’t go well.

Some Said He Had No Sense Of Humor (Complete) (AO3)

While wandering down in the room containing Emilie's chamber, Nooroo makes a very startling discovery. He reports it to Gabriel... who demonstrates absolutely no surprise. Little does Nooroo know that his day of surprises is just beginning... and what Gabriel truly has in mind, he will never see coming.

Crackfic based around Emilie’s coma... or lack thereof.  What if Emilie really wasn’t in magical stasis -- and for the least predictable of reasons?

As always... I send my warmest regards to my readers.  Your feedback and comments are always welcome, and they make writing these stories worthwhile.  Stay well, stay happy, stay away from hairy men in trenchcoats, and stay tuned for what next year will bring.  It _has_ to be better than what this one did... right?

[kimkymury]

Blue Rose Tears - Chapter 8

Hey everyone, another chapter of Pascal x Carl fanfic is here, I hope you like it!

I’d like to thanks @depressedoverdrawings​ for  for reviewing the history and help fixing grammatical errors.

Warning:  Just a little warning, some characters have distorted views about sexuality, and those views do not represent what I think in real life. This was written on purpose to suit the environment and the time that the story takes place, since at that time people were more closed minded.

The Portuguese Version of this story is avaliable on Wattpad:  https://www.wattpad.com/955909044-as-l%C3%A1grimas-da-rosa-azul-cap%C3%ADtulo-8

Under the cut!

Chapter 8

P.O.V Narrator

The moon was shining in the sky during a dark night at the Lacombrade Academy. It was the only source of light that illuminated the rooms with open curtains. It was past midnight, the silence was deafening. All the students were already in their rooms resting after another day. The nights of the school used to be very different than its mornings, which were always busy and noisy. The corridors that were full of students running during the day now were empty and dark. There were few boys who dared to go out at night in the middle of that darkness.

In the midst of all that peace and silence, someone was having trouble resting peacefully. Carl's expression was no longer tired or relaxed as in the early evening, it was more like discomfort. His blankets had become messy and tangled because of his unending tossing, it was as if the boy was being disturbed in his sleep. His expression was frowning and agonized, his breathing was more intense.

Inside his head, he dreamed that he was alone in a blank space that had no beginning and no end. The place was empty and quiet, and of a shade of white so bright that it made his eyes hurt. The silence was agonizing, he always walked in a straight line but it was as if he did not move. Despite being an empty place, it gave him a feeling of sadness, or even of being trapped. But it was at that moment that the tranquility of the blank space disappeared. 

Carl kept walking, but as he stepped ahead, cracks appeared on the floor. The seemingly infinite white floor began to crack and break, causing pieces to fall into an endless dark limbo. The boy was scared and started running in the opposite direction from which he came, only to see that more and more pieces of the floor were breaking and falling. What would happen if he fell into that chasm? The answer was uncertain, and it scared him. There was nowhere else to run, the only blank space was gradually being destroyed, the sadness and emptiness he felt before had turned to fear.

Now only a small piece of the ground remained, where he could barely balance himself to keep from falling. It was inevitable, the last piece broke, taking him to what he believed to be an endless fall. But Carl didn't feel the impact of the floor or the sensation of falling, the only thing he felt was something holding him by the forearm. The boy had his eyes closed preparing to face the abyss, and after feeling himself being held by the arm, he raised his head to face what prevented him from falling. It was someone's arm, probably a fellow student, as the jacket's sleeve was easily recognizable. However, he had no idea who could have saved him and even how that was possible, his first impulse was to ask.

"Serge?" - The dark haired boy asked without thinking, to him it seemed a little obvious that the pianist would be the one with the attitude of so readily helping him.

He received no answer, and that's when he looked more closely at the hand that held him. It didn't look like Serge's hands, its skin color was lighter, and it wasn't thin and delicate as the Gypsy's hands. Carl had no idea who it might be, he tried to recognize the mysterious figure, but the more he looked up, the blurrier his vision became.

The only thing that he could see were unclear shapes, only colors were recognizable. The last thing he saw in the fog was the dark blue of the school uniform and some warm colors just above, they looked like orange or red. That feeling was excruciating, Carl's vision was slowly fading as he heard his name being called several times, the distant sound seemed to be getting closer and closer. He felt something on his shoulder, like a shaking that tried to wake him up.

"Carl, Carl, wake up!" - A voice called him, making the eyes of the boy still in bed shoot open, leaving him with a frightened expression.

The dark haired boy was breathing fast, he felt every quick heartbeat. Standing next to him was Necroix, who was already ready for classes and was carrying some books in his hand. Carl quickly sat up on the bed, while his breathing slowly returned to normal.

"The alarm clock went off and you didn't wake up, what happened?" - The boy standing beside the bed asked, surprised from never having seen his roommate in that state before.

It had been just a nightmare, that relieved the boy who had just woken up, bad dreams were common when he went to bed worried about something. The fact that he had a nightmare didn't bother him, he was more concerned with the possibillity of being late for breakfast.

"I'm fine, I think I was just really sleepy...What time is it?" - Carl replied reassuring his friend, who did not believe much in what he heard, as he'd seen Carl's agonized expression before waking him.

"It's twenty to six, I went down to breakfast, but as I didn't see you I thought I'd better come back and wake you up." - Necroix said as he went towards his desk, setting the alarm clock to the next morning.

"Thanks for waking me up, I'll be going soon." - The dark haired boy thanked his roommate, getting up from the bed to make it up.

Carl couldn't believe he was almost late because of a dream. If he said that the reason for being late to the first class was a dream, he would be punished for presenting such a stupid excuse. The blankets were folded in the correct order, it was as if they were not messed up. But he couldn't waste time thinking about it, probably his friends were already waiting for him and would be worried about his delay. He was the Class Representative, his reputation and credibility could be affected if he was late.

"I'll see you later." - Necroix says before leaving the room, leaving the boy who was still in pajamas alone in the room.

The hands of the clock were moving. He changed his clothes quickly, taking care that he was well groomed and not seen as sloppy. Carl opened the cabinet that had a mirror on the door. He looked at himself at first to comb his hair, but ended up staring at his reflection longer than he should have. He was looking intently at himself, analyzing every little aspect of his appearance after running the comb through his dark hair. He did not consider himself handsome nor ugly, he had a normal appearance, so normal that he found it tedious to look at. He did not have a very striking physique, but he was not considered strange. How could anyone be so normal in every possible way? By what criteria was he considered normal?

He quickly closed the closet door and took the books he needed, he would only waste time by thinking about nonsense. After leaving the dormitory, it was possible to hear the voices and footsteps of several students, Carl went quickly to the Dining Hall and hoped they would not notice his delay. Unfortunately, that's just what happened, in the way to the Hall he could hear comments from other students who realized that he was in a hurry. Ignoring them was the only thing he managed to do, he had neither the time nor the courage to confront them.

The dining hall has less students than usual, probably due to the time, since most had eaten breakfast and now enjoyed the last few minutes before classes started.  After entering the Hall, Carl grabs the meal of the morning on a tray; he would have to eat quickly to get to class in time. He imagined that he would eat alone, since his friends wouldn't have been able to wait for him for so long, but he was mistaken. At a table with few people who all sat some distance away from each other, the red-haired scientist sat alone with a somewhat bored expression. It looked like he was waiting for someone. Seeing this, the dark-haired boy decided to sit with him, wondering if he too woke up late. Carl placed the tray on the table and sat across from Pascal, who was happy to see him.

"I heard you had trouble waking up. Let me guess, you kept thinking about what happened yesterday, right?" - The redhead asked ironically, starting to eat together with his friend.

"How did you know that?" - The religious boy asked a little confused, since he had not discussed it with anyone.

"Necroix told me earlier, everyone was worried that you were late. The class representative is always so punctual.” - The scientist responded, before taking a bite of his slice of bread. As with almost everything he said, he used irony as a way to add humor to any situation.

Carl was a little surprised, he had already imagined that his delay would generate a little concern, but there was still something that he wanted to ask.

"At least I wasn't the only one to arrive late. Did you stay up late studying again?" - The dark-haired boy replied, indicating the fact that his friend was still having breakfast.

"Not this time, I woke up on time and I thought you wouldn't want to eat alone." - Pascal replied, this time without sarcasm, explaining why he was there.

Simple words that meant a lot to Carl. To think that his friend had waited for him so he would not be alone was a gesture of kindness. He knew that the other boys wouldn't do that, in fact he couldn't imagine anyone doing this but Pascal, not even Serge ... That simple and ordinary act was enough to brighten up his day, even if he didn't show it much. The two continued to eat in silence, until Carl asked a question.

"And the others, where are they?" He asked, before taking a sip from the cup of tea, wondering where his friends would be.

"Kurt and Neka went out to play football before class, Serge went back to his room to try to get Gilbert to go to class, and Necroix joined Liliath to do something, I think your brother was with them." - The scientist replied, easily remembering the details.

Carl had expected all that, the boys always did the same things, so their routine was already etched in his mind. He was only bothered that Sebastian was hanging out with Liliath, he knew it was not good to leave his brother with older boys, especially those of questionable reputation. The concern in his eyes was visible, he feared for his brother's safety in a place like Lacombrade, but he had to accept that he would not listen to his sermons.

"Don't worry so much about him, Sebastian is young but very independent, he'll be fine." - Pascal reassures his friend, who felt as if he could guess what he was thinking with just a look.

"I know that, I just wanted him to interact with the boys his age." - The religious boy says, exposing the real reason for his concern, just before taking the last bites of the slice of bread.

The two boys finished eating quickly, soon the bell would ring and they should go to the first class of the day, which would be the same for both. With great effort Carl convinced Pascal to attend the first class, which was the one he liked the least: Latin. He knew that his friend did not care about his grades, as he had the hobby of repeating grades, but Carl worried that he would be punished for excessive absences. The way to class was ordinary, there were no signs of their friends, who were probably in other classrooms of Lacombrade. When they entered the room, there were already some students, most of them having conversations or trying to stay awake.

Although the night before was cold, the sun shone and illuminated the room, the large windows created a friendly, inspiring atmosphere. That room brought a certain nostalgia to Carl, he still remembered his first years studying there. As they went up the steps of the room to get to where they wanted to sit, Carl observed the place and felt happy, in a way.

How can a place as beautiful as this have such a sad atmosphere?

It was true that Lacombrade had excellent teaching methods, but that school gave him such a sad feeling in his heart, he'd felt it since the first time he stepped into the school. Maybe it was due to its cold walls or its secluded location, or it could also stem from the horrible things that happened when no one was around. His thoughts are dispersed when the boys sat down side by side while they wait for the class to start; Pascal looked bored and unwilling to be there, going to class only because of Carl's requests. Some students were surprised to see him in class so early, especially in one whose subject he couldn't stand. Carl knew that Pascal saw no sense in studying Latin, its words and grammatical rules could confuse even someone as brilliant as the redhead. It was precisely in this aspect that they differed.

The dark-haired boy turned to look at the friend who was sitting on his right, he calmly flipped through the pages of a book, as far as Carl could tell, it was something related to Biology or Chemistry. He then noticed a detail so simple that he had not noticed it before: Pascal's red hair had a shade similar to the one he saw in his dream, before waking up. He spent a few more seconds watching his friend, no words were exchanged. Oddly enough, the situation was not awkward. They could stand side by side for hours without talking and would be fine with it, just enjoying each other's company without worry.

That was a quality present in the best friendships, wasn't it?

It was only a few minutes before class started, and Carl found himself thinking again as a form of distraction. His first thought was of Pascal, his best friend, who was right beside him. He analyzed and remembered all the times they were compared with each other for being extremely different. Pascal was certainly nothing like the ideal model boy that people admired, he was just the opposite. He didn't care about grades or a good reputation, his appearance was considered careless, he didn't care about fixing his hair nor was he bothered by his eternally wrinkled clothing. He was constantly late, missing classes to do experiments, and he was kind but did not behave like a gentleman. As much as it was considered a defect, the dark-haired boy admired the fact that his friend could always be so detached from the opinion of other people and be focused on his goal.

He had no more time to think about it, the class had just started and the whole class was silent. Some were concentrated, and others were frightened by the possibility of being punished if they did not know how to answer a question. Carl opened the book he brought with him on the page ordered by the teacher; he followed the explanations carefully, trying to memorize each verbal conjugation. On the other hand, the boy who was sitting next to him did not take his eyes off the scientific book, he did not bother with the possibility of a punishment, and seemed very focused on what he was reading.

A few minutes passed and the scientist calmly closed the book that made him so interested, the truth is that he'd already read it so many times that he'd memorized the whole thing. Pascal, bored and with no interest in continuing to listen to those explanations about Latin, decides to turn his attention to Carl. He seemed focused on what he was learning, although the source of his concentration was the desire to get a good grade, not genuine interest in the subject. But Carl's attention is taken from the book when he sees a small piece of paper folded a few times being left close to his hand by the boy who sat beside him. Pascal gave the paper to him discreetly, without raising any suspicion. While he was curious to know what it was about, he was still afraid of being discovered and punished for not paying attention.

Continued in the next chapter.

Written by KimKymury, thank you for reading!