#when they saw a dragon disappear from my house and suddenly appear in front of your house halfway through december???

[pastafossa]

Dude you should mark every inflatable with your initials on the bottom with a sharpie or somthing incase another one goes missing I've the hard way times people can suck

I really need to! I was thinking initials in the bottom of the foot or even inside the inflatable itself, just something so that like???? I have additional proof. Because SERIOUSLY, taking my gd inflatable FROM MY YARD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT and then putting it up IN YOUR FUCKING YARD ELEVEN HOUSES DOWN is just the most bizarre example of The Fucking Audacity along with Absolutely Batshit.

[justmeinadaze]

Could you write a steddie x reader fic where the reader is a brat and they put her in her place

No rush at all take your time :) 💗

A/N: I'm posting this on my phone so I hope it comes our right! Enjoy ❤

Warnings: Dom steddie/ sub reader, punishment (spanking with a belt)

Word count: 1157

Where are they? I hate being at these social events alone.

Tonight, your friends Nancy and Jonathan were celebrating their engagement and you seriously couldn’t be happier. The thing was as soon as you and the guys showed up to their little get together, they almost immediately detached from your side to talk to other people.

You weren’t a fan big groups of people and hated not having at least one of them near you to ground yourself. After wondering the house for a few minutes, you finally found Steve sitting by the pool talking to Robin who greeted you with a big smile.

“Hey Robin. Steve, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Actually, baby, we’re kind of in the middle of a conversation here. Is it important or do you think you can go find Eddie?”

Without responding, you turned on your heels to search for the metalhead who suddenly appeared at the kitchen table with the other Hellfire kids as they excitedly discussed something Dungeons and Dragons related.

“Um, Eddie… EDDIE!” It took him awhile to even look your way which aggravated the hell out of you. “Can I talk to you, please?”

“Is it important, sweetheart? Do you think you can go find Steve and we can talk about it later?” He didn’t wait for an answer before turning to continue his conversation with Mike.

You growled under your breath at his dismissal.

“EDWARD!” All conversation at the table ceased as the man slowly turned his head towards you. “I need to talk to you.”

He rose to his feet, his hand roughly squeezing your arm as he pushed you away from his friends. “Y/N, if you think I won’t bend you over this table and spank you in front of these people you are sadly mistaken. Now…I am in the middle of a conversation. Go find Steve.”

“Steve told me to come find you.”

“Then we’re both busy, huh, princess? Believe it or not the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

Something snapped inside of you at his words and he saw it as his head tilted to the side.

“No, Sir. You are absolutely right. The world doesn’t revolve around me. Let me just go find someone else who isn’t busy.” You glared at him before grabbing a glass of wine off the counter and disappearing from his view.

An hour and two glasses of wine later, you find your anxieties start to fade.

“I think you’ve had enough.” An arm appears from behind you and you turn to see Steve taking the glass from your hand.

“Excuse me but I don’t think I asked. This a party, Daddy. Why don’t go have fun with Robin and I’ll have fun by myself.”

A smirk paints his lips as he glares down at you. “I heard Eddie already gave you one warning so I’m not going to bother. Disobey or talk back again and we’ll punish you right here. I don’t care who hears you scream.”

Your eyes never leave his as you reach towards the counter, grab the bottle of wine, and close your eyes as you chug it back.

When you open them again you find his grin has grown as he reaches out to gently caress your cheek with his thumb. “Ok, little girl. Eddie?”

You’re suddenly lifted into the air as two arms wrap around you and carry you down a hallway into a nearby bathroom. You yelp as your thrown against the sink and a rough hand presses on your upper back to keep you still as your face presses into the granite.

“Let’s see. You said she disrespected you, she just talked back to me, and disobeyed. What do you think, Ed? 15?”

“Are you using the belt or your hand?”

“I was thinking belt. You know, make sure it really sinks in that she’s being a little brat.”

You try and push back against Eddie’s hold but he just grips you tighter as they casually talk. “Maybe 10 then for now and then an additional punishment when we get home?”

“Sounds good to me.”, Steve chuckles as you hear the sound of his belt buckle behind you. After roughly lifting your skirt and pulling down your panties, you braced for what was about to follow. “Now I know you’re struggling with listening today, baby, but this should be easy for you. I want you to count and then when we’re done, I want you to thank us. Do you understand?”

You growled through your teeth and Eddie responded by tugging at your hair. “He asked you something. You fucking answer. You keep behaving this way and we can open the door so everyone can see.”

“No. I’m sorry, Sir. Yes, Daddy, I understand.” The leather promptly came down on your behind and you gasped at the feeling. “One.”

“I will never understand why you insist on doing things the hard way, little girl.”

*SMACK*

“Two.”

“I mean wouldn’t it be easier to just do what we say the first time around instead of arguing or being disrespectful?” You winced as he hit you twice and you moaned out the numbers.

“I-I-I tried to be respectful! Y-you both brushed me off!”

*SMACK*

“Mmm…five.”

“What did I tell you, little one? If Daddy and I are busy then we are busy. If it’s not important then you can wait.” Your hand reached around to grip Eddie’s wrist as the belt came down again.

“Six. Y-y-you know I don’t like social situations. I-I-I get scared.” You felt the brat leak away as the little girl stepped forward into the headspace. The little girl that needed them to take care of you and make you feel safe.

The tears slowly begin to fall as he hit you two more times before you felt a hand lightly brush through your hair. “We’re almost done, honey. Two more. You’re taking your punishment like such a good girl.”, Steve cooed in a much softer tone than he had before.

Eddie lifted his hand off your back and gently placed it on your cheek as his thumb rubbed under your eyes. You flinched as he smacked the belt against you again before landing his final one against your ass.

“Ten. Th-thank you, Daddy and Sir. I’m s-s-sorry.”

Your underwear was carefully pulled up your legs as your skirt was pushed back down and adjusted the way it had looked before. Steve turned you around and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist as you nuzzled his chest. You felt Eddie come up behind you and do the same as he rested his cheek on the top of your head.

“You did really good, baby.”

You pulled away from them as you wiped your eyes, Steve reaching his palm out to smooth down your hair.

“Can one of you please stay with me? I…I don’t like crowds.”

Eddie’s fingers reached for yours as he held your hand. “Of course, princess. That is considered important. You being comfortable IS important. I wish you had said something.”

“Instead of being a pain in the ass.”

You smile at them as you sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll be clear next time. I promise!”

“Naw, you’ll be a fucking brat next time but that’s ok. We definitely don’t mind reminding who’s in charge.”

[darkpoisonouslove]

Final Thoughts on Fate S2

The writing was better this season. The dialogue wasn't nearly as cringe as it used to be. There were some bad lines, of course, but most of it was much more bearable this season. And the writing as in construction of the plot and scenes was better as well. Not that good, though. There were things that just happened and are then never followed up. Musa never mentions Sam again once he leaves Alfea and Terra doesn't talk about her dad and brother either. Sky saying he thought there could be redemption for Andreas was completely out of nowhere since the two of them made zero progress towards any relationship between them. And there were some other moments that just weren't written so well.

The world still feels claustrophobic. We saw a nearby village/town and Sky's house, and a glimpse of the Realm of Darkness in the end and that was it. Oh, and the random mention of Walmart Omega. We still don't know anything about the realms in the Otherworld. Not even about Solaria where Alfea is located. The Dragon Flame's origins were never explained and we still don't know where the Burned Ones came from (I have a feeling they're going to make it be Marion who created them). Suddenly transformation magic is on the table but we still don't know why it disappeared and what even is going on with magic at all. What are they using it for when they're not fighting enemies that are specifically after Bloom?

The character arcs made a lot more sense in this season even when some of the continuity was nowhere to be found. The characters' actions felt more motivated and organic than anything anyone did in season 1. Plus, the Winx actually feel like friends here, thank god. We all know that wasn't earned in s1 but at this point I don't care. They weren't pissing me off by being assholes to each other (for the most part) and I'll take it.

I saw people saying Bloom was more annoying in this season but I wasn't really annoyed by anything she did??? It's weird to me but again, I'll take it. I'd rather not be exploding in rage when I'm watching something. I feel like they were building an arc for Bloom that includes the trauma of almost killing her parents (who never made any appearances and she didn't seem to care that she'd be in stasis for 20 years and they wouldn't know shit about that) and how she has no idea what to do with her powers so she just yeeted herself in the Realm of Darkness. That was somewhat successful. And I have to say that I don't mind Bloom x Sky in this season. They were written decently.

I liked the development in Stella. There were some iffy moments that made me afraid of the whole thing reverting to the s1 tension between Stella and Bloom but things were mostly okay. Stella x Beatrix wasn't in my bingo card but I actually didn't mind at all. I just wish they would've addressed the fact that Beatrix almost died last season because of Stella. They act like that didn't happen.

Musa was flip-floping on her feelings about her magic the whole time. Last season she didn't want to use it but she starts the season intentionally poking around people's heads and taking away their emotions? Then she's whining that it's too much again? That didn't make sense. And are you seriously telling me there's no other way to take away magic besides the barb wire bracelets and the scrapers?

Aisha didn't have enough to do again. They use her as the planner but the most "defining" moment she had in the season was confronting her lying boyfriend. And most of her story this season was about him. They tried to make it about her learning to open up but that could've been done better. The scene of the confrontation kinda worked on that front but it needed more.

Terra was mostly okay. She was too pushy about some things and the whole story with her new girlfriend was iffy but I honestly don't care. I'm just glad we managed to go all season without a single remark about her weight or body type. So it was possible but y'all had to suck for the entirety of s1?

Flora had nothing in common with Winx!Flora but otherwise I liked her character. She was interesting. I really wish it all didn't feel like they only put her in the season so that she could be scraper bait and no one else would have to lose their magic. Also, why was everyone insisting that Flora and Riven were dating when they weren't actually?

There's only one thing to say about Riven - he could have benefited from tape over the mouth for the first half of the season.

[archonanqi]

fragile as dust / 12 - smile

a/n: Please let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist for this story. Thank you all for the kind comments! ;-; @fishyfish-y​ @writingmi​ @just-some-stars @kawaiitinybunny @juhlydrawsblog​ @cherryvane​ @kaenyas​ @loadingrat​

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ch 11 | dreameater

For a minute or so, you stared at the dragon’s tooth. Reached out to touch it, every scratch and indentation on its smooth surface exactly the same as you remembered. You ran your finger around the blackened, charred ring around it, remembering how you had plunged the tooth into the blazing shield of fire, how the Abyss Mage had screamed. 

You winced at the memory of the past… day? Two days? You weren’t sure how long you had slept, and each time you tried to call upon any memories, your head hurt terribly. 

“Zhongli,” you barely managed to whisper.

As though he had been waiting just outside your room, the door swung open almost immediately. Zhongli strode in, though the relief you felt at his presence was quickly overshadowed by the fear of what you’d done, of how he might punish you for it. “Hansi,” he said, voice carefully composed as always, but you had known him just long enough to pick out a slightly different note of— worry? “You slept for two days.”

“Oh no, I missed work,” you deadpanned, desperate to dredge even the smallest of smiles from Zhongli. Zhongli’s frown didn’t even quaver. The very idea of Zhongli being annoyed at you sent chills down your spine. Just then, a memory came back to you, and suddenly, you were desperate for something else. “OH— work… Xiangling—!” You tried to throw back the covers to stand up, but the sudden movement sent hot and cold chills through your veins and almost sent you retching over the side of the bed.

“When you mentioned Qingxin,” Zhongli said. “I knew at once that she wasn’t bringing you to Cuijie. That girl knows the flora and fauna of Liyue almost better than I.” You remembered his slight unease the morning you left, that odd exchange that you thought nothing more of. 

Of course, Zhongli would have known the whole time; how foolish of you to think you could keep anything from his calculating gaze. 

“But what reason would she have had to lie?” Zhongli continued, “and so, though I did not want to intrude upon your expedition, I paid Jueyun Karst a visit with Chef Mao when you two did not return. We found her halfway up the mountain.” 

“Is she— is she okay now?” You could barely bear to hear the answer, “I need to go and see her.” 

“I don’t believe you’ll be able to go anywhere in your current state,” These were stronger words than you’d ever heard Zhongli utter at you, and it finally snapped you out of your haze of panic. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you noticed his stiff posture, his slightly furrowed brow, and felt a pang of guilt. You had acknowledged that he might worry over your disappearance, but not to such a degree. 

“If it puts you at ease,” Zhongli started, “I visited Xiangling this morning. Dr. Baizhu personally saw to her, and she is well on her way to recovery. She was similarly distraught about you, and she mentioned that you tried to hold off the monster on your own for her sake. Is this true?”

You nodded. 

“Admirable,” Zhongli said, and you noted that his voice had not lost its edge, “if not extremely rash. You could not have known what a powerful artifact the tooth was, though it is partly my fault for not explaining it to you. If I had not shown up when I did—”  

You blurted the first thing you were sure of. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger.”

Zhongli let out an audible breath, and shook his head. When he next spoke, his voice was tinged in disbelief. “To think that after everything, that’s your takeaway from this? What you and Xiangling did was incredibly dangerous. I believe that I’ve made more than clear to you, how dangerous Jueyun Karst is to mortals.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, the guilt rearing its head in the pits of your stomach.. 

Sighing softly, Zhongli held your gaze. “Though, I also miscalculated. Xiangling would have been able to handle no less than a Mitachurl; perhaps even a Lawachurl, but these intelligent creatures — Abyss Mages? It’s quite troubling that they’ve begun to appear in Liyue, so soon after Rex Lapis’ departure.” 

“Did you kill it?” You couldn’t help but ask, though you already knew the answer.

Zhongli fixed his unflinching gaze on you. “Yes.” 

You had already held the evidence of its death in your hands — there was no way the creature had given up the dragon’s tooth without a fight — but still, the truth was like a slap to the face. You had scarcely been able to escape from it with your life, and yet Zhongli... You glanced him up and down. Zhongli didn’t look so much as shaken from the confrontation.

“It was a hazard to Liyue. And it had threatened you,” he added, taking your awe for confusion. “Similar monsters have been growing in rank and number… Even the Adepti are on high guard, it seems, if Mountain— if one of them has started trapping civilians. Though Xiangling can fight, I’m afraid that the situation may be too much for you to handle right now. I would ask that you limit your ventures to Liyue Harbor—” 

You couldn’t stand the heavy tension of the room, couldn’t bear the thought that Zhongli might be angry at you. He had made no move to approach you, standing his usual, respectable distance away from your bedside, but anger— anger always meant someone got hurt, and usually, it was you. 

Quickly, you opened your mouth to swear that yes, yes of course, anything you want, I’ll never leave again, but Zhongli held up his hand to stop you. “Think carefully before making any promises to me. Are you content with staying within the harbor for the rest of your life, Hansi?” 

You hesitated. He was right. Going on ingredient hunts and seeing the beautiful mountains of Liyue had been the time of your life. You wanted to go further, wider. To see every bit that the world had to offer. And more than anything, you wanted to do it— with Zhongli. 

“I will ask you one last time, then,” Zhongli said, “ do you wish to learn how to fight ?” 

You couldn’t help but glance at the drawer where your Vision was, quickly dragging your gaze back to him and hoping he had not noticed. You swallowed. Yes, yes , you did. And what better teacher for your Geo Vision than Zhongli? 

He had just saved your life. The least you could do was trust him with it. 

Before you could respond, you were interrupted by a loud rapping at the front door.

“Just a moment, please,” Zhongli called in response. When he turned back, his expression had softened. “I… may have been too harsh. I hope you can understand that my words are borne only from concern for your well-being. How are you feeling?”

Like you had just been hit over the head with a large wooden pole, but the last thing you wanted to do was worry Zhongli more. “A lot better than two nights ago,” you smiled, hoping  to ease his concern, but it came out a little more like a grimace.

“I see. You had quite a fever last night, so I requested a home visit from Bubu Pharmacy. It looks like they’re finally here. Please wait a moment.” It seemed as though Zhongli was back to his usual self, sweeping out of the room in all his regal valor. You heard him open the front door and greet whomever was there. A doctor? You grimaced at the thought of some strange man touching your body. But for Zhongli’s peace of mind, you would endure. 

Finally, Zhongli returned. You looked around for the doctor— then down. A young girl, whose brow reached around Zhongli’s knees, wobbled in, holding a basket that seemed to weigh more than herself. Under her little hat was tucked a paper talisman; the kind you’d find plastered on the dead. 

“Hello. Qiqi is a zombie,” she said by way of introduction. “Nice to meet you.”

—-

You stared at her, then Zhongli, wondering why he had just let a literal child wander into his house. 

At the bewilderment on your face, Zhongli stepped in to explain. “Qiqi is from Bubu Pharmacy. She is indeed a zombie, though her story is perhaps one better told another time. Rest assured that she is more than qualified to treat any mortal illness. Qiqi, this is whom I was telling you about. I believe she might have a fever—” 

“This room is cold,” Qiqi murmured, siddling closer to your bedside. She dug around in her basket and produced a waterskin. “Good for Qiqi, not good for a fever. Please close the window and fill this with hot water.” 

“Of course,” Zhongli nodded, rushing to comply. After he left, Qiqi merely continued like she had not just ordered Zhongli around in his own house. The way she peered at you was so intent that it made you squirm, and each time she put her hand against your skin, it was so cold that you could barely resist, out of politeness, the urge to jump.

“How did you get sick.” Qiqi asked. For a moment, her voice was so monotone that you hadn’t realized it was a question. You scrambled to answer, cheeks flushing warm. 

“I was… climbing a tall mountain and got caught in the rain.” 

“Hmm,” she said, “not good. Bring an umbrella next time.”

“I will,” you promised quickly, watching as she produced a large wad of paper from her basket — how many things did she have in there? — and began scribbling, just as Zhongli returned with a filled waterskin and a glass of warm water. The warmth of the glass against your skin was heavenly, and you quietly sipped the drink while waiting for Qiqi to finish her writing. 

“Mr. Zhongli,” she said, tugging at his sleeve for his attention. Zhongli all but bent down to meet her at eye level. “Mr. Zhongli’s wife will be okay.”

It was all you could do to keep the water inside your mouth when you choked. 

“Hansi is my friend,” Zhongli corrected, gently.

Qiqi peered up at Zhongli, then at you — wrapped in what were clearly three layers of his clothing — then back at Zhongli. “Mr. Zhongli’s friend will be okay,” she amended, rifling so furiously through her papers that you were worried she would tear the pages. “She must rest for...three days. And eat wet things.” The girl squinted more closely at her notebook. “Hm. No. I meant, drink more fluids,” she amended, going right back to her scribbling. You peeked at it, but couldn’t understand a word she had written — was she drawing a flower? 

Finally, she ripped the page off with surprising gusto and handed it to Zhongli, who had to once again bend down to reach her little hands. “Here is a prescription for huang’lian medicine. For the fever.” The little girl said, thumbing through her pages. “I can also prescribe Windwheel Aster syrup. But Windwheel Asters can only be found in… Mondstadt... It can cost a lot.”

“How much?”

Qiqi went completely still as she thought about it. It was a little unnerving. At last, she reached a conclusion. “One million mora.” 

To your horror, Zhongli nodded. “That is acceptable,” he said. “Please give us three bottles.” You didn’t even know what to begin to say to that — you knew already that he was hopeless when it came to haggling, but three million mora was an unthinkable amount. And more ridiculously, spent on someone like you? Before you could protest, Qiqi shook her head. 

“No. I will not charge Mr. Zhongli so much. Three thousand mora will be fine.”

“Won’t you get into trouble with Dr. Baizhu, my dear Qiqi?” Zhongli asked.

“Hm. I don’t care what Baizhu says,” Qiqi frowned, “Mr. Zhongli has helped me many times.”

“Well then, I will accept your offer of generosity. On behalf of Wangsheng Funeral’s accountants, thank you, Qiqi.”

“I will also prescribe... gu’fen . It will help her wrist recover faster... Oh, no.” Qiqi sighed so heavily her little body shook. “Never mind. We are out of bones.”

“ Gu’fen - powdered bones?” Zhongli asked. “What kind do you need?” 

“Geovishap will work best, although hatchlings will also be okay.”

“Very well,” Zhongli said, heading for the door without a moment’s hesitation. “Please give me a few minutes.” 

“Two will be enough,” Qiqi called after him, barely lifting her gaze from her notebook. 

You heard the front door open and shut. “Did he—” you glanced at Qiqi, then out the window, where the unmistakable silhouette of Zhongli was striding off towards the mountains north of the harbor. You knew what Geovishaps were, Zhongli had told you of their story: descendants of the King of Dragons that had long been sealed beneath the earth by Rex Lapis. “Did Mr. Zhongli just leave to go hunt vishap bones? Is he safe?” 

“Yes. He is strong,” Qiqi stated matter-of-factly. “Mr. Zhongli could not fulfill his contract… for Cocomilk… So Mr. Zhongli helps when Qiqi gather herbs... in Jueyun Karst.”

Cocomilk? Zhongli had… fudged a contract? You wanted to ask her to elaborate, but another tidbit of information caught your attention. It was undeniable, then, that Zhongli could come and go safely within Jueyun Karst. You shuddered as you remembered how overwhelmingly powerful the Adepti had been. How could Zhongli willingly set foot in there, and how can he do so unharmed? A distant memory arose, something about him… karst crawlers… protection? 

Qiqi was tapping on your leg for attention, so you quickly shook yourself free of your ponderings. You could revisit them later. “Sorry. Yes, Qiqi?”

“I  asked,” Qiqi said, “do you need contraceptive medicine? I can prescribe...” 

“ What ?”

“Please do not be alarmed,” Qiqi said calmly, severely misunderstanding your almost-scream. “This is part of life. As a pharmacist of Bubu Pharmacy, I am able to prescribe—” 

“No,” you said quickly, very quickly, “No, we really are just friends.” The word tasted sweet on your tongue. Friend — Zhongli’s friend. 

“Hm, okay,” Qiqi responded, blinking upwards at you with clear magenta eyes, and though there was no inflection in her tone, you could almost hear the incredulity. “Where did you get these injuries?”

You debated lying, but she was looking up at you with such seriousness that you couldn’t find it in yourself to. “Mount Hulao,” you admit with a hint of remorse. “I went there with a friend… we both got badly hurt. It was a bad idea. I don’t remember much, other than that.”

“Baizhu was called to treat Miss Xiangling yesterday. She was your friend?” Qiqi thoughtfully waited for you to nod. “You were… also sealed in the amber? It can cause memory loss. Sweetflower tea will help... with the headaches.” 

You wanted to ask how she knew about the headaches, how she knew about the amber, but the look in her eyes was answer enough. For the adepti to harm such a small child— in the pits of your stomach, you felt such a hot surge of anger that you surprised yourself. Qiqi’s small hands rested on yours, her big, earnest eyes staring right into you. 

“Hmm,” she repeated, “not good. Bring Mr. Zhongli next time.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I will,” you promised once more, jokingly. “Though I’m not sure how I’ll fit all that muscle into my backpack—” You trailed off at the inquisitive look on Qiqi’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just friends,” she commented shortly.

“We are just friends!” you cried, stopping yourself quickly as you heard the front door swing open. A few minutes, just as Zhongli had promised. And slung over his back was a sizable sack, bulging with what you knew were dozens of bones. 

“Two was enough,” Qiqi murmured as Zhongli placed the sack before her. There was no way the girl was lugging that back to the pharmacy , you thought, just as Qiqi carefully lifted it with one hand. By the Archons, what were they feeding the pharmacists at Bubu?

“I thought it would be best to err on the safe side,” Zhongli replied, “please do put any leftovers to good use at the pharmacy. And also,” he said, pulling out a vibrant strand of violetgrass from his coat, “this is for you, my dear Qiqi.” 

Qiqi’s expression did not waver, but you thought that she looked just a little pleased as Zhongli tucked the flowers into her hat. 

“Okay.” Qiqi said, handing Zhongli the last pieces of paper from her notebook. “Please come and collect your prescriptions tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Qiqi,” Zhongli answered, helping to hold the door open as the girl wobbled her way back out as unsteadily as when she came. “Have a good evening.” When he returned to stand by your bedside, you carefully eyed him. There was a smear of dirt on his left sleeve, but otherwise, it looked like he had just returned from a walk at the harbor — not from battle.

“Are you hurt, Mr. Zhongli?” You asked. 

“Hmm?” He blinked, then absently said, “ah. The Geovishaps? Not at all. They are quite easy to combat, once you learn of their weaknesses.” You wondered how many he’d fought; how many things he had killed in his life, that fighting ferocious monsters was barely an ordeal of note for him.

More importantly, he had done it for you. Had been willing to pay three million Mora for your well-being. You found yourself blinking back tears once again; you would not let anyone see you cry.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongli.” You said, and you hoped that he would understand all that you meant by it.

“Of course, Hansi. Though, before I forget, I do have a question,” he said, reaching into his coat and producing a chunk of Cor Lapis, “when I found you at Mount Hulao, you were gripping this like your life depended on it. Is this what you went there for? Why?”

Oh. The flush in your cheeks burned red hot, and you scrambled for a lie — any lie. Nothing came to mind. Finally, under his scrutinizing gaze, you withered and told him the foolish truth with slumped shoulders: “it was meant to be a gift for you, Mr. Zhongli. It’s probably… it’s probably nothing compared to the one from your friend.” You could barely lift your head to look him in the eye, and you were vaguely aware that you had begun to ramble. “But it’s the only one I could find. I ended up causing you more trouble in the end, I’m sorry.” 

“Goodness,” Zhongli said, his voice thick with emotion for the first time that you’d heard. You glanced at him in surprise, but his face betrayed nothing as always. 

Zhongli held the Cor Lapis up to the light, looking at it carefully. After a terribly long pause, his gaze fell back on you. “This is one of the clearest, most luminous pieces of Lapis I’ve seen in my life. Thank you for going to such lengths to get me this, Hansi.” 

Your relief at his lack of anger and your pride at his praise was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the way your heart fluttered warmly at the bright smile on his face. 

“Though of course, I would have appreciated such a precious gift regardless.” Zhongli continued, walking to the door. “Now, I must ask that you rest for a little while, as per Qiqi’s orders. Will you be alright alone? Please call my name if you need anything at all—”

You were only half-listening. It wasn’t fair, how his smile could wrench the air right out of your lungs.

—-

A memory:

“There it is again, that infamous frown,” the young woman waved her hands, her billowing sleeves whipping about in the howling gales of Qingyun Peak. “Why do you never smile, Morax?” 

“What is there to smile about?” he asked truthfully, because he had long since stopped trying to decipher her odd mannerisms. Below them, underneath the clouds, the war raged on.

“What is there to—?” She exhaled in exaggerated exasperation, throwing her arms out to the wind. “The birds in the trees! The clouds in the sky! It didn’t rain today for the first time in weeks, so we made it all the way up here to watch the sunset! Do none of these things mean anything to you?”

“Yet when night falls, we will once again have to fight.” His fingers twitched around empty space, every moment he wasn’t holding his polearm — at her request — almost painful. He detested being in this form, but it was cold in the mountains, and his adepti form would do little to help him with temperature regulation. “We should return soon. I hear that Osial has been rallying his forces for another attack, and we were barely able to fend off the last one.”

She sighed, and he knew that meant he had disappointed her — though he did not know how. 

“Morax,” she breathed, barely audible over the wind. “What will it take to make you smile? Tell me, and I’ll do it. A contract. That’s the only kind of thing you understand, right?”

That, he did. “When the war is over,” he answered. She was leaning precariously over the edge of the cliff, and it brought about some strange, foreign feeling deep in his gut — something different to the wounds and scars he was used to. “And our people are safe from the threat of strife and war.” 

A brief pause. She showed no sign of getting down from where she was standing, and in fact, had gotten on her tiptoes. “You might fall,” he warned. 

“You promise? You promise that once the war is over, you’ll try to smile more?” 

“You have my word,” he swore. He did not understand her intentions even a little, but promises? Those he knew better than life itself. Something so trivial as a smile seemed scarcely worthy of a contract. But it seemed important to her, and so he would honor it. “You should step away from the edge. You might fall,” he repeated.

“Oh, but you’ll catch me, won’t you?” Her pale hair whipped about in the wind, framing a wide, bright grin. There was a twinkle in her eye that he, unfortunately, knew all too well.

“Guizhong, don’t—“ he said, rushing forward, but it was too late. She tipped backwards, disappearing into the clouds below, just as his arms closed around empty wind. Muttering a series of ancient curses he thanked the heavens that Ganyu wasn’t here to hear, he leapt after her. 

The transformation always hurt a little, though after meeting Guizhong (and her incomprehensible insistence that he stay in human form when in front of human children) he changed forms so often that he barely even noticed anymore. He relished the sting as lithic claws, scales and fangs tore their way out of his deplorably soft human flesh— and then, he was free to rip through the clouds and wind. Frightening and powerful, as he should be. 

As he had to be.

It was not hard to locate Guizhong, especially not with the way she’d gleefully screamed all the way down. He angled himself right under her, bracing for the impact, and she landed squarely on his back with an exhilarated squeak. 

“Wasn’t that fun, Morax?” She clambered up towards his head as they tore through the skies. He could feel each of her warm fingers gripping his horns tightly. “No? Still no smile?” 

“What?” He growled. “You could have died.”

“You wouldn’t have let that happen,” she waved it off, “though you did let me hit a few more trees than necessary on the way down, didn’t you?”

He didn’t dignify that with an answer. 

“Fine,” he could hear the pout in her voice. “When the war ends, I want to see a huuuuge smile from you, alright?”

“I already gave you my word.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Well, that is, if I’m there to see it,” she laughed lightly. “Not everyone is as big and strong and scary as you, Morax.”

There it was again, that feeling — a dull blade that pressed deep into his lungs, his stomach, his heart. Fear? No. The God of War and Contracts did not know fear. 

“Of course you will. We will both be there to see this to its end.” 

—-

At the end of the war, when he finally felt the searing power of the divine settle within him, Morax stood alone. 

Mountains of bodies, bones picked clean by birds and sinew laid to claim by beasts, surrounded him for as far as the eye could see. 

Guizhong was not among them, for she had been killed years and years ago.

He felt his lip curl into — something. It fell a little short of a smile.

—-

Outside of your room, Zhongli leaned his head against the cool wood of the doorframe, and steadied his breathing. Carefully, he placed back into his coat the Cor Lapis that you had gotten him; that you had almost died trying to get him.

How ironic, that even after exactly three thousand, seven hundred and twelve years, two months and eighteen days, he still found himself scrambling to protect someone who seemed to lack all sense of self preservation, and who surprised him to no end. 

Guizhong had not been strong enough to fend off those who sought to claim her life, but you could be — if only you’d show him what you were hiding in the drawers by your bed. He could feel its resonance, each time he entered your room — the Vision he had given you; a reminder of the strength that you could use, to fight back, to protect yourself. 

Guizhong had not been strong enough.

A breath in, a breath out. Zhongli closed his eyes.

He would not make the same mistake again. 

[mirrorscomic]

MIRRORS: CHAPTER 7

Summary: In Mainverse, the appearance of the pair from Villainverse has apparently caught the attention of the gods. Will this attention be a good thing, or perhaps be a problem?

Author Notes: i'm back finally with another chapter! this is a special chapter that marks the beginning of the original mirrorsverse context; this is no longer taking place in the dragon ball universe! some changes have been made to the story and characters, such as names and designs, as well as an art style shift! i hope you enjoy the changes ive made! <3

Another day passes in the Land of Creation--the realm where the Gods of Creation reside. Here, a creator god sits by herself in a field, seeming concentrated on one area of the sky. A figure creeps up quietly behind her, not making a sound…

“So, what is the North Creator up to today, then?”

She’s startled, but her body relaxes when she realizes who has joined her, and she lets out an annoyed sigh. “Oro, don’t you have better things to do than bother me? Go back and watch over the South Quadrant like you’re supposed to. I have bigger things to worry about over here.”

“Oh?” The other creator god, Oro, looks out to try and see what she is looking at. “Like what?”

“A lemurian living on Earth. His counterpart from a parallel universe somehow hopped through the cosmos with a wormhole and came to stay with him for a few days. I’m keeping an eye on him for now to make sure he doesn’t try doing the same thing.”

“A lemurian?” Oro seems interested. He squints, focusing where she is concentrated on. His vision flies through the galaxy, zooming in on one particular spot of planet Earth, where a lemurian farmer and his mother are seeming to practice. It’s Patoto and Zumeg, and Zumeg is encouraging her son.

“Come on, Patoto, you can do it! Dig deeper!”

“I’m trying…!” Patoto says as he seems to be straining himself to power up. In an abrupt blast of power, he achieves Super Lemurian--something he’s used to--but this time, he’s trying to reach a higher level.

The sight amazes Oro, and he widens his eyes. “What in the world is that?”

The other god doesn’t look from her spot. “It’s called Super Lemurian. Their race can achieve transformations like that to grow more powerful. There’s also a Super Lemurian Two, which is what I assume this lemurian is trying to reach. There may even be a third level.”

Oro watches in awe. “Such power…”

...should be used by a god.

He stands up straight and waves his hand as he turns to leave. “Well, you have fun with that. I’ll be off back to my own business.”

The other god frowns a little. “It’s about time.”

As Oro walks away, he glances over his shoulder with a rather devious expression.

Back on Earth, Patoto leans over onto his knees, obviously winded from all the exertion. “Phew… I think I’m gettin’ closer!”

Zumeg smiles and walks over to pat his back. “I think you are, too. Your energy seems a lot more intense now than it was before.” She walks by him, then. “I’ll go get us some drinks. You deserve a break. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay!”

As Zumeg disappears into the house, Patoto is left to stretch happily. However, almost immediately, his body transforms into that of the creation god, Oro. He’s confused by his new, smaller appearance, looking down at himself. “H-huh? What the--?”

“This is a very interesting planet you have here.”

Patoto looks over to where the voice came from. There floating in the air is what looks to be himself, wearing strange new clothes and earrings. Patoto is even more confused than he was before. “H-hey… That’s my face!”

His copy grins wickedly. “Finders, keepers, I guess. Hm…” He looks over Patoto’s clothes, seeming to inspect them for a moment before waving his hand over his own body. His wardrobe changes to that of Patoto’s suddenly, except this version is all black. He grins and holds out his hands to his sides. “Blends in a little better, don’t you think?”

Just as this happens, Zumeg returns from the house with two drinks. She stops in her tracks when she sees the scene playing out before her, furrowing her brow. “What in the world?”

Patoto looks back at her. “Mom!!” He quickly makes his way over to his mother and points at the false Patoto. “Mom, this stranger stole my body…!”

She looks at him confusedly. “What…?”

“Please believe me!” Patoto urges. “I’m Patoto! That guy over there isn’t me; he stole my face!”

Zumeg looks back at the apparent copycat. He has a sick smirk on his lips, which causes her to frown. “... I believe you. My son would never look at me like that.”

Setting the drinks down, she walks away from the real Patoto and glares at the newcomer. “Who the hell are you? What do you want with my son?”

The fake Patoto sticks up his nose with a grin. “It makes sense that you wouldn’t know me. I am Oro, one of the five Creators of your universe.”

“Creators? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand. To put it simply, I am a god of your world.”

Patoto looks at his hands. “A...god? Y’mean I have a god’s body right now?”

“Yes. But, I don’t expect you to know how to use it, heh.”

Zumeg chimes in. “What would a god want with my son, then?”

Oro folds his arms behind his back, looking around at the scenery. “I was watching you all from my world and I saw something amazing. You transformed and became much more powerful than you were before. I saw this power and realized that it was much more suitable for a god than it was a measly mortal. So, I wanted to try it out for myself.”

“So, you stole my son’s body?” “Borrowed without asking.” Oro raises a hand and charges up an energy ball with it. “I wanted to play around with it for a while.”

Realizing what’s about to happen, Zumeg dives back towards Patoto and tackles him out of the way just before a ball of energy hits the ground where he stood. Once they’re safe, she turns back and snarls at Oro. “Hey!!”

Oro doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. He’s looking at his hand, mesmerized. “Amazing… Even at base strength, the power is incredible. Now, for that transformation…”

Zumeg and Patoto watch as Oro channels his energy through his body, yelling as he does so. In a sudden burst, his hair turns blonde and his eyes go crimson, completing the transformation to Super Lemurian. He looks back at his hands, smiling. “Amazing…! I’m overflowing with immense power! This transformation is outstanding!”

Zumeg starts walking towards him. “Alright, you’ve had your fun! Give my son back his body!”

She charges at him with a punch, but he blocks it easily with his finger. In response, she begins to throw a flurry of punches, but he blocks all of them with a finger as well, almost taunting her. With a smirk, he suddenly whaps her away with his tail, and she goes flying.

Patoto is watching from the ground in dismay when he’s suddenly joined by another person seemingly out of thin air. He turns to look at them--a woman with pink skin and white hair, similar in appearance to his current body. “W-who are you?”

She turns to look at him. “I am Enlil, a God of Creation. I’m the Creator in charge of your universe quadrant. I’m here to stop Oro from causing more trouble than he already has.”

Patoto blinks. “You’re a god, too?”

Behind them, Kinpa and Evelyn come hurrying out of the house, apparently having heard the ruckus outside. Evelyn looks at the two standing in front of the porch. “What’s goin’ on out here?”

She notices Zumeg and Oro in the sky as they fight. “What in the world are they doin’ up there?”

“Your son’s body has been stolen by a god who thinks he can just do whatever he wants,” replies Enlil. She gestures towards the real Patoto beside her. “This is your Patoto.”

Patoto’s eyes start to tear up. “Mama…”

As he rushes over and hugs her, Evelyn looks startled. “P-Patoto…?”

Kinpa looks from Patoto up to the dueling lemurians. “So… That’s not Patoto? That’s a god in Patoto’s body? How did he switch bodies like that?”

“He used objects called the wishing stones on a planet called Phibia to wish it that way,” Enlil explains. “Unfortunately, those wishing stones can only be used once a year. I have to find a way to keep him at bay until they can be used again.”

Kinpa thinks for a moment. “Wishing stones…? Hey, don’t we have those on Earth? I remember an icejin talking about them.”

Enlil looks over at him in surprise. “Really?” She proceeds to close her eyes for a moment in silence, and she then opens them again. “You’re right! How did I not see them before? There’s a phibian on this planet who has a set.” She turns to Kinpa and holds out her hand. “Come with me. I need someone with me in case something goes wrong.”

Kinpa looks at her hand before hesitantly taking it. “U-um… Okay.”

In an instant, the two teleport away, leaving Evelyn there with Patoto. The next thing they know, they’ve arrived at what seems to be a campsite in the middle of a forest somewhere. As they look around, someone opens the door to the little hut that is sitting in front of them.

A green-skinned individual, the phibian in question, comes out and blinks. “Oh! Can I help you?”

Enlil steps forward. “We don't have much time to explain, but we need to use your wishing stones. There’s a crisis that could eventually endanger the whole world if we don’t stop it right now.”

The phibian looks them over. It doesn’t take long for him to nod in approval. “Okay. I can tell your intentions are good. Let me get them for you.” He starts to disappear into his hut, but he looks over his shoulder first. “Name’s Kigai, by the way! It’s nice to meet you. Now, give me one second…”

--

Back on the farm, Zumeg and Oro continue their fight as Evelyn and Patoto watch in concern. Zumeg is getting beaten back pretty good by Oro, who hasn’t even broken a sweat. The god dodges elegantly away from every punch.

“This was fun for a while,” he muses, “but now it’s starting to get annoying. You’re persistent; I’ll give you that. But…”

He points two fingers at her before firing a laser beam through her chest. She falls to the ground lifelessly as Evelyn and Patoto watch in shock.

“You should know never to cross a god.”

--

“How do we summon the dragon?”

Kigai looks at Enlil after finishing arranging the wishing stones on the ground. “Like this…” He hovers his hands above the stones. “Wish dragon Shtelru, by your name, I summon you!”

The stones begin to glow a brilliant blue, and then, suddenly, an energy beam shoots upward out from them. From the beam forms a giant dragon, towering above the group. Kigai and Enlil seem unfazed, but Kinpa is blown away from the size of the creature.

Soon enough, the dragon speaks. “Speak your wishes now, and I will grant them, if it is within my power,” he booms.

Kigai gestures to Shtelru, turning to Enlil. “Go ahead.”

Enlil steps forward. “Great dragon, I wish for you to switch Oro and Patoto’s bodies back to normal!”

Shtelru’s eyes glow a bright red. “Very well. It is done.”

In an instant, Oro and Patoto’s bodies swap back to their original owners. Oro looks down at his body in confusion. “What?!”

Meanwhile, Enlil turns to Kinpa. “Kinpa, you stay here. I need to make sure it worked. I’ll be back.” She looks up at the dragon again. “Shtelru, can you wait just a moment?”

“Do not make me wait long.”

“I won’t.”

Enlil teleports back to the farm, leaving Kinpa to stand with Kigai. When she arrives, she’s greeted by the scene of Evelyn holding her wife on the ground, sobbing over her body.

“Zumeg…!” Evelyn cries. “Zumeg, wake up…!”

Enlil is shocked. She looks to where Patoto is standing with his fists clenched tightly at his sides, now in his own body. He is trembling.

“You… You shoulda never hurt my mom,” he growls. The air around him begins to crackle as his energy spikes. Suddenly, he explodes with power, his hair turning blonde and his eyes burning red. Tears are streaming down his face. “I’ll make you pay!!!”

He launches himself at a surprised Oro, who proceeds to get the punch of his life directly to the face.

He’s flung back through the trees, crashing through the forest before skidding to a stop in a ditch formed by the impact of his body on the ground. He opens his eyes just in time to see Patoto flying towards him, and he just barely dodges an intensely-powerful blow that instead strikes the ground below him. Patoto snaps around as Oro tries to fly away, grabbing him by the leg before slamming him directly into the ground.

While this is happening, Enlil stands over Evelyn. “Wait right here. I can fix this, I promise.”

She teleports back to the others at Kigai’s camp, wasting no time before speaking again. “Zumeg was killed. Can Shtelru bring her back?”

Kigai nods. “As long as she hasn’t been brought back before, yes.”

“Okay.” She looks up at the dragon once more. “Shtelru, I have another wish!”

Shtelru’s thunderous voice responds, “Speak it now, before I run out of patience.”

“I wish for the lemurian Zumeg to be brought back to life!”

Once again, the dragon’s eyes glow brightly as he grants the wish. “It is done.”

Miraculously, thanks to Shtelru, Zumeg’s eyes flutter open as Evelyn cries over her. She sits up, surprising Evelyn in the best way. Evelyn hugs her tightly. “Oh, honey, I thought you were gone…!”

Zumeg rubs her head. “What happened…? Where’s--”

She looks up to see Patoto kicking the absolute shit out of Oro. The god is bleeding profusely, evidently having been taking an intense beating from the lemurian. Patoto performs an overhead kick and sends Oro flying down to the ground, where he crashes and slides along the dirt. When he stops, he weakly looks up to see Enlil staring down at him in disappointment. Patoto lands a few feet behind them as Enlil nods to him. “I’ll take him from here Patoto. Thank you.”

Patoto doesn’t seem to be quite finished with him yet, still clearly angry, but the voice of his mother stops him from stepping forward.

“Patoto!”

He turns to see Zumeg running towards him, and the anger in his expression completely disappears into relief. “Mom?”

The two hug tightly as Patoto powers down to his base form once again. As this happens, Enlil lifts Oro up over her shoulder and turns to everyone, who is gathering around Zumeg and Patoto.

“I’m sorry to have brought you all so much trouble,” she assures solemnly. “He won’t be back to do it again after this; I promise.”

The two gods disappear, leaving the group to stand there. Patoto nuzzles his mother lovingly, clearly happy to have her back and safe. Evelyn also seems pleased with the outcome of all this. Kinpa is the only one whose mind seems to be elsewhere.

[aquariuscurly94]

Say My Name

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Fairy Tail sadly

Summary: To some Japanese couples, it’s tradition not to say each other’s name. It’s a weird and stupid tradition yes. But to some couples it’s highly important to stick with tradition as well as the culture.

Sometimes though, Lucy Heartfilia wished it wasn’t part of some stupid tradition and she also wishes that she wasn’t so freaking traditional because it can really drive a person insane because of it.

And it’s slowly beginning to happen to her now as we speak.

To some Japanese couples, it’s tradition not to say each other’s name. It’s a weird and stupid tradition yes. But to some couples it’s highly important to stick with tradition as well as the culture.

Sometimes though, Lucy Heartfilia wished it wasn’t part of some stupid tradition and she also wishes that she wasn’t so freaking traditional because it can really drive a person insane because of it.

And it’s slowly beginning to happen to her now as we speak.

She smiled warmly when she turned over on her side to stare at the pink headed man that was sleeping soundly next to her. His bare muscular chest steadily moving up and down as he continues to breathe. His wild hair everywhere on Lucy’s pink pillow.

Lucy’s actually surprised that she had woken up before him which was rare because it would be usually him that would be up early watching her sleep until she had woken up.

Unless he’s still tired from their love making that had occurred last night.

She blushed madly red at the memories of him holding her tightly as he whispered things into her ear as he went in deeper and deeper inside to the point she saw stars. She had always assume that since he’s half dragon he would have more lasting stamina but then again he’s also half human so it would made sense that he would still get tired easily.

Now, back to the stupid Japanese traditions.

Even though the two of them had been dating for nearly two years— yes, two and counting— they had never yet said each other’s name. Because, well, once they do— that’s it. There’s no going back! That would mean they’re truly serious about each other.

Lucy could remember countless of times where she had been close to saying his name whenever they had gone out on one of their dates. And if she’s being totally honest with herself, she could’ve swore that he’s been also close to saying her name as well.

“You’re awake?” Lucy heard him muttered tiredly when he had opened his dark eyes, giving her a fanged grin. “How’d you sleep Heartfilia? Thought you would still be knocked out after…” he trailed off, eyeing the flushed beautiful blonde in front of him, loving the way her brown orbs widen in shock. “last night?”

Lucy scoffed at him and reached over to throw one of her pillows at him hoping that it would hit him in the face, sadly he caught it easily and sat it down beside him on the bed. “Well good fucking morning to you too, Dragneel.”

She watched him stretch out his arms above his head, making her worry her lower lip. She had always admired his muscular build and at how strong he was.

Lucy gasped when he had started to stare at her, leaning over the bed to give her a chaste kiss on her pink, plush lips. “Good morning, Heartfilia. Want me to make breakfast?”

Lucy sighed and nodded her head at him, reaching up with her manicured finger to lightly touch her lips; her brown eyes staring into his dark ones. “Y-yes, N—“ she gulped, immediately stopping herself from saying his name. She cleared her throat to try again. “Yes, that’s fine..”

She watched him cock his head to the side in confusion as he was studying her which caused her to slightly panic at the possibility that he could’ve heard her almost saying his name just now.

Lucy sighed in relief when he had leaned away from away from her, bending down to grab a random shirt to quickly slip on before leaving her room to start cooking them breakfast for the two of them.

Once he had fully disappeared out of sight, Lucy threw herself back on the bed and groaned loudly in frustration. “Damn it Lucy! Stupid ass traditions!”

Natsu Dragneel could’ve swore that she had almost said his name just now in her room. And if he was being completely honest with himself; he wouldn’t mind it one bit because truthfully he’s been wanting to say it too.

In fact, he’s been dying to say her lovely name and her name means light and throughout their whole entire relationship; she has been the bright light of his dark life that had once was before she had came and brighten it up.

Natsu growled lowly in the back of his throat as he watched four strips of bacon sizzling on a pan in front of him.

He was all alone before he had met the blonde of beauty. He frowned deeply at the memory of him arriving to the new city of Magnolia after his father Igneel had died suddenly, making him move to an unfamiliar city because his father had owned a house that he had wanted to have because of his final will.

He had no friends nor family. It was only him and his father always until the very end when he had passed. But then, she had appeared, yelling at him along the streets of downtown Magnolia asking him to help her catch a blue stray cat that was running past him. Once she had captured the cat; she had named him Happy and the two started out as friends.

He even trusted her enough to tell her that he was half dragon and to his shocking surprise; she had accepted him afterwards!

He also remembers her introducing him to a few other half dragons like himself. Even though it did took awhile for him to get along with Gajeel, Sting, Laxus, Wendy and Rogue; they all became close friends because they all had dragon blood in them.

He was there for her when Happy had died after running away again and she was there for him when the anniversary of his father’s death was near. And on that day of the anniversary, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips and the rest was history.

Well, almost anyway.

Now, Natsu had never consider himself a traditionalist. His girlfriend was more traditional than him and he had known that way before they had gotten together so he made sure to respect her beliefs and to be honest lately; it has been harder for him to not say her name.

He could feel it on the tip of his tongue each time they were together. Each time that they would made love he truly wanted to scream out her name in pure pleasure.

Natsu scoffed when he had grabbed two plates for them, making sure that the food wasn’t touching each other on her plate which made him chuckle quietly, sighing as he left the kitchen to head back towards her bedroom, smirking when he could see her sprawling across the bed and had immediately sat up straight when he had walked inside.

“Whatcha think about?” He asked her as he had planted himself on the edge of the bed, handing her a plate, quirking an eyebrow at her and immediately could tell that there was something on her mind because she was looking at him funny.

“L—“ Natsu shook his head of pink hair, realizing that he had almost said her name. “Heartfilia.” He tried again, grabbing their plates and moved them aside by placing them on the nightstand that was next to him. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Natsu.”

If it weren’t for his super dragon hearing that he had inherited from his father he probably wouldn’t had heard his name just now that she had whispered so quietly.

“D—did you just say my name?” He asked, widening his eyes in shock, carefully leaning in close to her, wrapping their hands together on the blankets. “Say it again. Say my name once more. Please Lucy.”

Lucy couldn’t believe it. She had finally said his name and he had immediately said it back which made her heart skip a beat when she sees him leaning in closer to her.

“Natsu.” She could feel her eyes slowly started to close when she could feel his hot breath near her lips. So far, she loves saying his name. It rolled off her tongue easily. Why it took her so long she had no idea. She heard him chuckle lowly before finally closing the gap between them, kissing her on her lips. She could feel him pushing her gently on the bed, making her yelped in surprise.

“Natsu,” she says again, smiling at him once the two broke for air, panting heavily. “Oh, Natsu,” she whispered, reaching her arms up to wrap them around his neck to bring him closer.

“Lucy.” Natsu mumbled, leaning his nose down towards her neck. “Lucy. Lucy.” Natsu said, smiling against the nape of her neck.

“Say my name again.”

“Natsu.”

“Lucy. Lucy Heartfilia. It feels so damn good to finally say it.” Natsu told her, moving his lips down along her neck, making her shiver when she could feel one of his fangs lightly grazing her neck.

“N—Natsu. Natsu Dragneel. We’re finally saying our names.”

“It’s about damn time. Huh, Lucy?”

“Yes, Natsu. It’s about damn time.”

A/N: back with another NaLu fic!! Please let me know what you guys think of it!! :)

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 1

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

Chapter 1 - And so it begins

I decided to post my Charlie Weasley fanfic here ❤️

I will post a chapter per day since I have already finished writing it!

A mixture between Harry Potter Books lore and Hogwarts: Mystery Game

I just finished reading the books for the 10th time and between reading and playing the game on my mobile phone I have never been so intrigued or had so many questions about Charlie Weasley.

My imagination started to go wild halfway through The Goblet of Fire and I decided to create my own little story about how it would be like to know Charlie Weasley from his first year at Hogwarts and all the way to the Battle of Hogwarts (yes, it’s a LONG story)!

I will stop being a babbling, bumbling baboon now, bye!

Nova

I still can't believe I had to wait so long. My opinion is that if you are born after the 31st of August you are the unluckiest child ever! Imagine getting a letter of acceptance, that your parents have been waiting for since you have been born and since they are so excited about it, you get excited about it and then you turn 11 on 14th December only to find out that you have to wait until NEXT SEPTEMBER to go to school! Who came up with this rule!

Nonetheless, the wait is over as in one week I will be sitting on Hogwarts Express to go to the school my parents have been at so many years ago and have fun adventures as they so like to reminisce on how fun it was to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“Nova, dear, we are going to be late!” My mother called for me from downstairs. I couldn't help but let out an exciting shriek that sounded like a baby Pixie, as I grabbed my favorite notebook which I took everywhere; and I mean everywhere if you were thinking about the bathroom. I loved to draw magical creatures, ever since my parents bought me Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. I inspire to be the second Newt Scamander, except that I would work in a creature reserve, rather than have one at home.

I ran downstairs into the living room, as my dad was opening a bag of Floo Powder, ready to travel to Diagon Alley! My father was a Curse Breaker for Gringotts and ever since he was assigned to Egyptian tombs, mum and I barely saw him. It meant the world to me that he could take a week off work to accompany me to my first ever trip to Diagon Alley to gather all the things that I would need for my First Year at Hogwarts! I still remember the whole list, which included several sets of plain black robes and a pointy hat among other things, with the books like the Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, for which I was so excited to start waving my wand in Charms Class, along with History of Magic and the one I already had Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

That reminds me! If you are asking yourself, why have we decided to leave the shopping until the last week before I had to leave on the Hogwarts Express if I got my letter in December? Well, this is a little embarrassing but I tend to be a little bit of an overachiever and if mum and dad would get me the books in December, I would probably read them all 3 times by now!

That's also the reason my mum and dad made a bet about the House I will get sorted in. My mum thinks I will be in Gryffindor, while my dad strongly disagrees and thinks I would make a perfect Ravenclaw.

As I watched my mum disappear into the green flames and my dad pushing me to go next, the excitement grew in me as I knew I was about to embark upon the best journey of my life.

“Alright, pumpkin! Are you ready? Here, there you go!” My dad gave me the bag for me to take the Floo Powder out of. “Now, speak clearly and carefully, as we practiced: Diagon Alley.”

I took the powder, stepped into our fireplace, and as I threw the powder I said loud and clear: “DIAGON ALLEY!”

The next thing I know, I was standing on a busy street next to my mum, looking up at her to see a proud face as she was trying to hold in the tears of happiness, seeing me travel by Floo Powder for my second time; the first being to visit my aunt and uncle in Scotland.

A second later, my dad appeared next to us and I finally took a look around me. It was just as they have described but busier. Perhaps waiting to get the books until the last week before school wasn't such a good idea, as it seemed that everyone did the same.

Without even asking, my parents first took me to Ollivander's as they knew I wanted my wand more than anything. My mum accompanied me into the wand shop, as my dad whispered something in her ear and hurried down the street.

“Where is dad going, mum?” She smiled at me gently. “You will see soon enough, sweetie.”

She nudged me into Ollivander's and I couldn't help but get nervous as I saw the number of boxes from black to wooden and purple to burgundy. I gasped as a man appeared right behind the counter.

“Ah, Miss Goldhorn, it is so lovely to see you again. Ebony wood, 11 inches, Dragon heartstring, very flexible. Yes, yes, I still remember.” The old man said to my mum, with sparks in his eyes.

“It's Blackwood now but the wand is still the same.” My mum smiled as she pulled out her wand and showed it to the man.

“Ah, eldest or youngest?” The man asked with a grin.

“Youngest.”

“Ah, that would be, 10 2/4 inches, Unicorn hair and very unbendable.” He said proudly as he guessed my dad's wand without even hearing his name.

“Wow, you remember that?” I was now looking at him with total amazement. I imagined myself looking at him the way I did when I saw a drawing of a Chinese Fireball for the first time.

“I remember every wand I have ever sold, Miss Blackwood. Now, shall we find one for you?” He said slowly, even though I had a feeling that he was just as excited to find me a wand as I was.

“Alright, let's see...” He said as he turned around and disappeared behind one of the shelves.

“Alder wood, Dragon heartstring, 9 inches, fairly flexible.” He opened a green box, gently taking out the wand and handing it to me. I swung it once and absolutely nothing happened. I got nervous, as I swung the wand again and again nothing whatsoever happened.

“Oh, dear.” He said as he took the wand away from me. “That one didn't like you. No worries, let us try...let's say this one!” He exclaimed as he brought the next box. This one was wooden and out he brought a smooth-looking wand that looked a bit crooked.

“Redwood, Dragon heartstring again, 11 ¾ inches, not particularly flexible. Come on dear, try it out.” He encouraged me as he put the wand in my hand. I swung this one as I did with the other one with the fear that my mum and dad will make me go to a Muggle school if nothing happens with this one. Suddenly, the nearest lamp to me broke and Mr. Ollivander was quick to take the wand away from me.

“Or perhaps not, this one doesn't seem to listen to you either.”

Again he hurried and hid behind the shelf, murmuring something to himself as I could see he was thinking hard as he was enjoying a challenge.

“Ah, I think we could get somewhere with this one!” He was so excited now that he almost jogged back to the front, a burgundy box in his hand.

“Ebony wood, Unicorn hair, 10 3/4 inches, and surprisingly swishy flexibility.”

I took the wand carefully, wishing this could be the one as I was getting quite embarrassed. I swung the wand and it gave out sparks and I got a sensation in my body as if something just connected with me.

“There we go! I had a hunch Unicorn hair would be for you!” He gently clapped his hands together as my mum, pride on her face, got closer to the counter to pay the man.

After that we spent quite some time in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions as the lady inside took measurements of me I didn't even know could be made and afterward spent almost the same amount of time in Flourish and Blotts as my mum had a hard time getting me out as I wanted to grab more than just the 8 books I needed for school.

We finally found dad as we were looking through display windows of several shops while having the tastiest ice cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

As he saw us through the window, he came out of Magical Menagerie, hiding something big behind his back.

He smiled at me and showed us a big owl cage with a beautiful barn owl inside. I wanted to scream with excitement but decided not to as I didn't want to scare the owl.

“Your mother and I were thinking that you should have an owl of your own as you would have to write to me and mum while at Hogwarts.” He smiled at me and stroke my thick bluish hair.

“It's so beautiful! Can I name him?”

“Of course you can, darling!” My mum chuckled.

“Pip!” I exclaimed as I admired my new best friend. It had such deep black eyes, a white face in a shape of a heart, and the most beautiful patterns I have ever seen on its wings. I couldn't wait to draw him!

A WEEK LATER

I exhaled and inhaled deeply as I was standing in front of a wall between platforms 9 and 10, my parents one on each side of me.

“You can do it, sweetheart. Just don't run too fast.” My mum said to me softly, while dad gently squeezed my shoulder.

I took another deep breath and ran towards the wall, closing my eyes. As I opened them, I was on the Platform 9 ¾, steam running from the black and red Hogwarts Express.

We had exactly 7 minutes until the train would leave. While I was standing with my mum, admiring the train, my dad took my luggage to the luggage compartment.

“Oh, sweetheart, I wish you the best First Year at Hogwarts! I hope you will have as much fun as your dad and I had!” She kneeled to me, hugging me tightly, holding back the tears. Once she stood up, my dad came back. He hugged me softly while whispering in my ear how proud he is of me.

I hurried on the train as we heard a whistle, waving to my parents who started shouting after me: “Send us Pip to tell us in which House you were sorted!” My mum yelled. “And listen and take notes in classes!” My dad added.

I waved at them through the window until the train took a turn and I couldn't see them anymore. It was time to find an empty compartment.

I was in awe of how many students were on the train as I was almost at the end of it and couldn't find a single empty compartment. I passed a compartment with two kids arguing who is going to be a better Slytherin. A compartment with someone talking about Quidditch so enthusiastically that I couldn't believe just how fast he was talking. A compartment with 2 redheads that looked like brothers, one munching on a chocolate frog with hair so long he could put it in a short ponytail, the other one sighing while saying “Aw, another Helga Hufflepuff, I already have her.” He had so many freckles on his face that it was tough to define his skin tone.

I finally stopped in front of a compartment as a girl with pink hair caught my eye. She was sitting and conversing with 2 other girls and it looked like they were having a nice time. I slowly opened the compartment, cleared my throat, and asked if I could join them. To my surprise, they were more than thrilled to have me join and I was a little relieved that I finally found somewhere to sit as I sat down next to a girl with blond hair.

“Wotcher, my name is Tonks, nice to meetcha!” The pink girl said, grinning at me.

“I'm, Penny. Very nice to meet you.” Said the blond girl next to me, with a polite voice as she smiled at me.

“And I'm Tulip, Tulip Karasu.” Said the redhead as she extended her hand to me.

“Blimey, if I knew we were going into such details I would've said more!” Tonks said while Tulip and Penny chuckled. “Nymphadora Tonks, a Metamorphmagus at your service! And you better call me Tonks as I swear my parents are paying every single day for naming me that way!” The girl with the pink hair said. The other 2 chuckled again.

“They are paying for it?” I asked, puzzled.

“Ah yes, I prank them all the time and I am as mischievous as I possibly can be!” Said Tonks, proudly.

“Just because of your name?” I asked. She nodded in confirmation. I already liked her, even though I had no reason for not behaving around my parents, but I liked her energy.

“And if we are introducing each other with the full name, I am Penny Haywood, half-blood and proud of my dad being a muggle.” She said with the biggest smile I have ever seen anyone admit that they are not a Pure Blood.

“Blimey, I don't know how to introduce myself.” Said Tonks a bit disappointed that Penny added a new thing to learn about each other.

“Oh, I have an idea. How about we go in a circle and each of us says a sentence about ourselves. That way we can get to know each other and can give each other ideas about what the others haven't said yet!” Tulip said, quite proud of her idea.

“Yes, let's do that and let her start since we don't even know her name.” Tonks said while nodding her head at me.

“Alright, well. My name is Nova Blackwood, I am a Pure Blood. My mum is an Auror and my dad is a Curse Breaker in Egypt.”

“Wicked!” Tulip and Tonks said at the same time.

“That sounds like a dangerous but very fun position.” Said Penny thoughtfully.

“It's obvious that Penny's hair is naturally blond and I think that's Tulip's natural hair but may I ask why is your hair blue?” Tonks asked bluntly.

“Yeah, I was wondering that as well!” Said Tulip excited as if Tonks was reading her mind and then adding “And my hair is naturally red, yes.”

“Well, it's quite a funny story.” I started, chuckling. “When my mum was pregnant, my aunt from Scotland tried to dye my mum's hair dark blue. She is a very clumsy woman and as my mum was talking right before my aunt cast the spell, my aunt tripped looking at her instead of where she pointed her wand at, and as she cast the spell she pointed it at my mum's belly. They thought nothing of it since they thought the spell didn't work. However, when I was born and my dad had a puzzled look on his face as I came out with this hair color,” I pointed at my dark bluish grey hair, “my mum knew exactly where I got it from.

They asked the nurses and they did tests on me however they couldn't figure out how to reverse the spell so that my hair would be brown like my parents' so they eventually gave up as the hair color grew on them, naming me Nova after the supernova explosion since the color of the explosion tends to be blue sometimes.” I said, finishing my story.

“Wicked!” Said Tulip and Tonks together again.

“That has to be the most beautiful story I have ever heard.” Breathed Penny, looking as if she was ready to cry.

“Thank you?” I said as I didn't know what to say as I tell the same story to anyone who asks me.

“My turn!” Shouted Tonks. “Well, you know my name already. My father is a Muggle-born as well, mum's a witch from the Black family line. Don't like to talk about it too much. My hair's pink because as I said I am a Methamorphmagus and I can turn it whichever color I want. And I can also do this!” She said excitedly as her nose turned to that of an elephant.

We all stared at her in awe, clapping as if we have just seen an amazing performance.

“Well, I am a Pure Blood too. Mum works in Diagon Alley and my dad works for the Ministry: The Department of Mysteries so you can guess, I have no idea what his work is. And since we are talking about hair, I have it after my mum, she has hair just like mine.” She said grinning.

“Tonks said that she doesn't want to talk about her parents but Penny you were really happy to announce that your dad is a Muggle. Can you tell us something more, I have no knowledge of Muggles.” I said with an interest in my voice.

“Well, my mum is a Potioneer, selling her potions to pharmacies and other buyers, my dad however is a writer.

Since my mum and I are witches, he is quite successful as he writes children's novels mum giving him false information about Magic folk for him to write about, since she, you know, can't tell the truth because of the Statute of Secrecy but my dad loves it anyways and envies us that he can't clean the dishes with his wand.

I also have a younger sister named Beatrice who can be quite annoying but I love her all the same. Having a Muggle dad is interesting as there is always something mum has to explain to him but as he is always fascinated by it, it works out quite alright. And all my family including both sides of my grandparents have this kind of blond hair so I guess it runs in the family.” She chuckled after finishing the last sentence.

“Sorry to bother you ladies,” our compartment opened and a girl who looked like a Head Girl put her head in, “we will be arriving shortly, so I suggest you put your robes on. Also, I assume you are all First Years, meaning that you will want to find a rather large man when you exit the train as First Years make their way up to the Castle in a bit of a different way.” She said, giving us a friendly smile.

“So, which House do you think you'll be sorted in?” Asked Penny while we were all changing into our robes. “I don't care as long as I can have all the Potion Classes that I can get.” She added enthusiastically.

“Hmm, didn't put that much thought into it.” Said Tonks, frowning as she started to think about it.

“My parents were in the same year, but my mum was in Gryffindor and my dad was in Ravenclaw, so we'll see. They did make a bet in which House I'll be as they are both rooting for their own House.” I said as I buttoned my final button on my shirt.

“You know what?” Finally said, Tulip. “I like you lot, I would be very happy to be in the same House as all of you.” We all smiled at her as we realized that we would all like that very much.

[beelsnack]

When MC Gives The Obey Me! Boys a Present

Lucifer: The Eldest had always been an early riser. Honestly, he wasn’t fully convinced that this habit hadn’t been the real reason behind his moniker “Morning Star.” Although there was no sun in the Devildom, and therefore no sunrise, he still liked the idea of sitting by the grand window in the living room with a cup of coffee, watching the sky change from inky black to a dusty lavender. He would steal this few precious moments of peace while everyone was still asleep.

Well, almost everyone.

It was common for the human to get up early as well. On occasion, his brothers would keep them up with some ridiculous scheme that tired them out, but almost every morning the human joined Lucifer for coffee. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having them to himself.

“Good morning.” they smiled as they entered the dining room. Their hands were clasped behind their back, and Lucifer regarded them with a raised eyebrow.

“Good morning. And whatever could you be hiding there?”

Suddenly shy, they kept their gaze on the cup of coffee Lucifer had poured for them. “Um, well...uh...” they cleared their throat, bringing their arms to their front to reveal what they were holding.

Lucifer studied the little box curiously. It was plain and black, made of velvet and looked like it came from a high end store. Well, now wasn’t that interesting?

Swallowing, the human pushed it towards him, quickly hiding their expression behind their coffee. “I-It’s for you. I didn’t want to give you it with everyone else around.”

“Oh?” he couldn’t help the quirk of his lips. “Don’t tell me you brought me something scandalous.”

“No!” they exclaimed. “Of course not, I just - it would - just open it, will you?”

He chuckled lowly. “As you wish.”

All teasing remarks died on his tongue as he opened the box. Nestled inside was a brooch, a brilliant ruby surrounded by delicate obsidian in a lace-like pattern. The gem caught the light and shone beautifully, and Lucifer was at a loss for words.

“You’ve been so kind to me.” the human’s voice, soft with sincerity, drew his gaze from the brooch. “I wanted to thank you. Asmo dragged me out shopping the other day, and I saw that. I had money left over from working at the bookstore, and I thought...”

They trailed off, flushing nearly as red as the brooch. Gently, Lucifer removed it from it’s box and affixed it to his uniform.

“I like it.” he smiled, catching their hand as they set down their cup. He brought their knuckles to his lips, watching as they squirmed. “I shall wear it with pride.”

Mammon: The human world was an exciting place. It had been a while since he dared to pop up in the mortal realm, afraid that one of the witches would catch wind of his presence and track him down. But the human had been wanting to take a visit to their world for a while, and someone had to make sure they didn’t get themselves mauled.

(Mammon was absolutely weak against the power of the human’s puppy-dog eyes and would probably throw himself into an active volcano if they pouted at him enough.)

After hours of exploring all the nooks and crannies the city had to offer, they eventually wandered into a coffee shop. After ordering their drinks - paid for by the human, of course - they tucked themselves into a table in the corner by the window.

“Man, I’m tired.” Mammon groaned, slumping back in his seat. “Followin’ you around all day is exhausting.”

They laughed. “Sorry. Maybe this will make up for it?”

They reached into the shopping bag at their feet and pulled out two little boxes. After carefully examining each one, they nodded to themselves and placing one of the boxes in front of him.

“What is this?” he tilted his head, picking the box up and shaking it. Something rattled inside.

“A blind box!” they grinned. “Remember those keychains we bought with Satan and Lucifer? These are from the same series, but their little figures. You don’t know what one you get until you open it.”

“Ehhh? Man, you humans are creative little things, aren’t ya?” he looked at the side of the box that had all of his options. “Aw, man, these are all the mythical creatures, aren’t they? Where’d you snag these, anyway? And when?”

“In the game shop, when you were trying to win the demo.”

“Hey, no one told me it wasn’t winnable, a’ight?”

The human shrugged. “Whatever. The sign for these things said ‘test your luck,’ and it reminded me of you, so I bought them.”

Mammon always did love a gamble. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s crack these bad boys open!”

Mammon basically tore the box apart. He ripped open the little plastic bag and a small plastic figure of a dragon tumbled out. It was even breathing fire!

“Hey, check out what I got! Betcha it’s cooler than yours, huh?”

When he looked up, the human was holding the exact same figure.

“Looks like we got our matching things after all!”

He felt his cheeks heat up, and he might have laughed just a bit too loud as he straightened up. “Look at that! How about it, human? Do you feel honored to be matching the Great Mammon?”

The bright grin they sent his way made his heart flutter a little bit. “Of course. I have to match with my first man, don’t I?”

Levi: He kept checking the time on his D.D.D. The stream was going to start any minute! Maybe they decided that didn’t want to watch it with him after all? Maybe they had just been screwing with him in the first place. They probably - 

KNOCK KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK KNOCK

“Levi, it’s me!”

He sat in surprise for a moment before he realized that he had to actually let them in. He scrambled over to the door, squaring his shoulders and taking a few deep breaths to try and appear cool before he opened the door.

“Where were you? The stream’s starting soon!”

“Sorry, sorry!” the followed him into his room, kicking the door shut behind them. “I couldn’t remember where I put it, I was tearing apart my room looking for it, of course it was in my desk drawer - “

“What are you talking about?” the human had a tendency to babble if left unchecked. Now that his heart rate had returned to normal, Levi noticed the thin piece of cardboard that they were holding.

“Oh, right, sorry!” Levi really wanted the human to stop apologizing for everything, but didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick.

They held up the mystery item for Levi to see. “Last time I was in the human world, I picked these up! They’re cool, right?”

Attached to the cardboard were two black-corded wrap-around bracelets. Both were decorated with a pixelated heart, one saying “Player One,” the other saying “Player Two.”

Well, so much for a normal heart rate.

“I - you - what - a-are you sure you want to wear something like this. With - with me?”

Levi didn’t want to think about how soft and kind the human’s face looked when they took back the cardboard and began taking the bracelets off. They remained silent as they handed the Player One bracelet to him. His hands were shaking as they dropped it in his palm.

“I don’t want to wear it with anyone else.”

Satan: No matter what he did, Satan always ended up losing his bookmarks. They got lost in books that he had forgotten he had, accidentally thrown away when he cleaned off his desk, he definitely saw a cat steal one and just couldn’t bring himself to take their new toy from them. Every time he turned around, a bookmark had gone missing. 

He was in the middle of searching for one - he absolutely refused to dog-ear the pages, he might as well rip the page out - when he heard the door to his room open. “Satan? Are you in here?”

He couldn’t help the small smile. The human was probably the only one in the house he didn’t want to punch in the face. “Up here.” he called.

The human began climbing the spiral staircase that led up to his bedroom proper. He still couldn’t find a bookmark, so he was forced to turn the small paperback over and rest it on the desk. He could practically hear the spine breaking and wanted to cringe.

“What’s up? I thought you were going shopping today.”

“I already did.” they were holding a small bag in there hands. “I couldn’t really find anything I liked, no matter what Asmo made me try on. But! I found something for you!”

Satan blinked as they handed him the bag. “Really? For me?”

“Mhm!” they looked quite pleased with themself. “Go on, open it!”

He reached into the bag and plucked out it’s contents. “A...what is this?”

It was made out of metal, shaped like a dagger with a green stone (there was no way it was real emerald) decorated the hilt. He moved it around in his hand, and felt it bend. It was a similar shape to a paperclip.

“It’s a bookmark.” the human grinned. “It clips onto the page, and the top part here sticks out so you don’t forget you have it in there! It’s just something litle, but I remembered you complaining about how you’re bookmarks always disappear, so..yeah.”

They lost a little bit of steam when Satan just continued to stare at them. “...You don’t like it?”

“Of course I like it.” he replied. “I’m just shocked you remembered something trivial I said weeks ago.”

Expression turning sheepish, they shrugged. “I guess I just have a good memory.”

Satan hummed, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “That you do. Thank you.”

Asmo: The best part of taking a long, luxurious bath was putting on his favorite bathrobe. It was soft and fluffy and felt like a cloud against his skin. And it always sent a little shiver up his spine as it was sliding off to reveal - 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Ugh. Someone always had to interrupt, didn’t they? His beauty routine was terribly intricate, and there would be hell to pay if he broke out.

“Asmo? Can I come in?”

...Okay, this was an acceptable interruption.

“Of course, darling, door’s open!” he briefly contemplated leaving his robe untied before deciding against it. Undressing was part of the fun.

The human stepped into his room, arms laden with shopping bags.”I wanted to show you what I got!”

“Ooh, yes!” he beamed. “Show me, show me!”

They set their bags down on the bed, digging through the bags to decide what to show him first. Asmo sat at his vanity, watching them search. They’re eyes lit up like jewels when they found what they were looking for.

“Ta-da!” they produced a length of dark magenta fabric. It looked soft, and caught the light in a way that made it shimmer. A silk scarf.

“Oh, isn’t that lovely?” he crooned, standing up to run his fingers delicately over it. “And so soft, too! What a find, darling!”

“So you like it?” the human asked. Asmo hummed, nodding. He couldn’t stop feeling the scarf. Silk always felt good against the skin ~

“Good! Because I bought it for you.”

He paused mid-stroke, bringing his eyes up to look at them. “Eh?”

“I saw it at the store,” they placed the delicate fabric fully in Asmo’s hands. “And I thought that the color would look sooo good on you. It was the last one, too, so I snatched it up.”

“Oh, aren’t you a treasure!” he wrapped his arms around the human and damn near squeezed the life out of them. “You know me so well! But, you know...”

He slipped the scarf around their waist and used it to pull them flush against him. 

“I can think of a couple different uses for silk.”

Beelzebub: There would be a world of trouble if they got caught. But you wouldn’t know that at all just by watching the human. They hummed to themself as they mixed the ingredients, like this was normal cooking duty instead of an emergency late-night food run.

Beel felt kind of bad. Not only did he ruin their bedroom over custard, he woke them up in the middle of the night because he had a nightmare. And instead of being angry with him like they should be, they offered to make him cake.

“You don’t have to. You can go back to bed.” he mumbled. Despite the cheerful expression they wore, he could tell they were tired. 

They turned around, pointing their spoon at him accusingly. “No, I can’t. I just put the cake in the oven.

“But...”

“Besides,” they shrugged, turning around to put the dishes in the sink. “I’ve been wanting to try out a new recipe for a while. What better way to shake of a nightmare than taste-testing, right?”

Beel had never heard that one before, but he wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he just folded his arms on the table and rested his head on top of them, watching the human work. “Can we call this nightmare cake?”

“No, that sounds like it’ll taste bad.”

“I’m calling it nightmare cake.”

They wrinkled their nose at him, and he couldn’t resist reaching out and giving them a little nose boop.

“Thanks. I’ll bet this is going to be better than any store bought cake.”

Belphegor: Honestly, he was trying to do his assignments. He had actually missed going to classes while he had been locked in the attic, and he was already on thin ice with Diavolo. But he was so sleepy...

A knock at his door jolted him awake. Damn, he dozed off again.

“Yeah?” he called, rubbing at his eye.

“Can I come in?” 

Oh. The human. “Yeah, door’s open.”

They stepped into the room and immediately zeroed in on him. “Did you fall asleep on your homework again?”

He lolled his head back without turning around in his desk chair to look at them upside down. “No.”

“Then why do you have ink on your cheek?”

“It’s a fashion statement.”

They raised an eyebrow. “What are you supposed to be stating?”

“...That I fell asleep while doing homework.”

Belphie didn’t want to admit how much he liked the human’s laugh. So, he focused on something else. “What do you have there?”

“Oh!” apparently, they had forgotten what they were holding. “There was one of those crane games at the arcade, and I won this!”

Belphie straightened up and turned around. They were holding a plush toy shaped like a black ram. It was kind of cute.

“It kind of reminded me of you, so here!” they held it out to him, but he only looked at them quizzically.

“Why did it remind you of me?”

“The horns, mostly.”

Upon closer inspection, those did look like his horns. “Huh. Yeah, okay, I see it.”

The human thrust the plushie out again, and this time, he took it. It was really soft and cuddly. He could definitely imagine falling asleep with this. But...

“Hey!” the human yelped as Belphie stood and shoved the plushie in their face. “If you don’t like it you can just say so!”

“I want it to smell like you.” he drawled. “So I can think about you before I go to sleep.”

“So you try to suffocate me with it?!”

Truthfully, Belphie just didn’t want them to see him blush when he muttered, “Thanks for the gift. I really like it.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

For this lil thing💅

“The city looks different at night.” or “Oh you poor soul, wandering lost in the forest under the new moon…”  whitch ever you're more comfortable with🤩

“A camping trip?” Lu Mingfei couldn’t believe his ears. It was hardly something that he expected to come up in the freezing cold of Chicago winter. Even sitting down and eating in the cafeteria, he could hear the wind whistling through the gaps in the doors so clearly, he shivered in spite of himself. “Have you completely lost it?”

Chu Zihang simply held up a travel magazine and pointed to the brilliant photo of the northern lights strafing across the sky. “I’ve always wanted to see the Aurora Borealis. I have an assignment there anyway. You won’t have to worry about that, though.”

“Oh really?” Doubt filled his face. Whenever his ‘senior brother’ was involved, there was always death, danger, mayhem and a lifetime’s worth of trauma.

He nodded once. “It’s not even an A ranked mission.”

Lu Mingfei sighed. But then he turned and looked at him again.

He remembered that Chu Zihang was always alone. He never asked to do things with other people. And yet, they had managed to become easy friends over the years. He didn’t have that relationship with any others. 

Zihang was asking him to go with him because he didn’t have anyone else to ask.

“Fine. But you promise I won’t end up at the bottom of some hellhole fighting for my life?”

“The likelihood of that is slim.”

“But it’s not zero?”

“You want a guarantee?” Zihang nodded once and turned back to his meal. “No matter what, I promise I won’t call you if there’s danger.”

Lu Mingfei’s heart suddenly leaped into his throat. But it was too late to go back now. 

That weekend they packed up and were on a plane to Alaska. They sat next to each other on the long flight.

“So… what’s so special about the Aurora that makes you want to go see it so bad?”

Chu Zihang gazed out the window at the mounds of white clouds outside. He had his contacts in and a simple cap, looking just like a normal tourist. “Legend has it that if you see the Aurora, your wish for true love will come true.”

“Say what.” Lu Mingfei rounded on him. “Is that what you want? A wish for true love?”

Chu Zihang turned and looked at him directly. “No. It’s for you.”

Lu Mingfei groaned so loudly other passengers turned to look. Zihang’s gaze followed his hanging head. “Dude… you’re killing me right now. True murder with words. Is my situation so hopeless that we have to resort to superstitions?”

“Many superstitions are rooted in the truth about dragons. I’ve done my research about this place. There was an assignment nearby. We’re to search and look for dragonblood species in the area.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a laminated map, while Lu Mingfei looked at him, pleading for mercy.

But no mercy would be given. Pointing to the map, he explained. “There’s an extinct volcano nearby that showed elemental activity of a strange type. EVA wanted to assign others there for a simple survey but I thought of this as an opportunity.”

“Thank you for thinking of me.” Lu Mingfei moaned, helpless.

“You’re welcome.”

The world at the campsite was completely frozen. The soil stayed frozen as a layer of permafrost, on top of that, layers of snow had frozen and refrozen until the landscape was nothing but flat-white. The wind picked up fine icy particles and blew them about like sand on the worst beach. Mingfei inwardly cursed his brother’s care and generosity as he trudged across the forsaken landscape.

Mingfei was the one who was lonely. But he was not so desperately lonely that he wanted to be here. Why did Chu Zihang wish so badly for him to find a girl? Of course, if the scheme worked, he wouldn’t be ungrateful.

“This is the site.” Chu Zihang had stopped in the shelter of a boulder the size of a house that faced a dark forest of snow covered pine. It was adequate shelter from the wind and he began to set up camp. “As I said before,” He explained once the tent was set up. “You don’t have to do anything while I work.”

“Oh sure… I’ll just lay here and think of my dream girl while staring up and waiting for the aurora.”

Chu Zihang nodded once and shouldered a large pack and his sword case. His boots crunching in the snow started to grow distant and Lu Mingfei suddenly sat up from his sleeping bag. “What about bears? Or wolves?!” He shouted.

Zihang didn’t even look back, disappearing into the woods. “There’s a gun in your tent. Just shoot them, you’re good at that.”

Hunting for dragonblood subspecies wasn’t exactly difficult. Anyone with high enough dragonblood naturally attracted them. Chu Zihang set down his pack and the long satchel that held his sword. He drew the silver blade across his arm and held it out, letting the crimson liquid trickle down, spattering into the snow. Then he took a bandage, wrapped it and walked a distance away to wait.

He wrapped his face in a thick wool cover to hide his breath and melded into the deep silence of the tundra woods. He closed his eyes to listen for any sign of movement. He concentrated deeply on every sense until he noticed a small sound. When he opened his eyes, he saw what appeared to be the shadow of a deer, standing over the blood.

It was a stag with a crown of majestic antlers arcing over its head. It lowered its head down, sniffed at the blood-stained snow, and then slipped out a tongue to lick it.

Every muscle in Chu Zihang’s body was like a coiled spring. His eyes calculated the distance between himself and his prey. He could span it in an instant. He just needed a moment for the deer to turn around, get distracted by something.

“Oh you poor soul, wandering lost in the forest under the new moon…”

The voice was like an arrow through his brain that shot down his spine like lightning and he gasped despite himself. Still, he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt frozen. The voice was there as though she were standing right in front of him.

But it was the deer who turned its head and looked at him before snorting as though laughing and trotting away.

Chu Zihang stood and moved to where the creature had been. It was still within view, a distance away, looking at him from between the trees. It’s eyes glowed red before bounding away, leaving her laughter in its wake.

Chu Zihang took off after it, desperation quickening his breath. He couldn’t see it. Where was it? Where?

The ground suddenly disappeared out from under him. He spun in mid air and grasped the edge of the drop off with one hand. Below him, the snow dislodged by his boots fell into the dark water of a lake.

Despite the frigid temperature, the lake was unfrozen, a testament to the geothermal heat below. The lake was completely glassy and like a mirror reflected the mountains, the tree and the starry sky in a perfect image.

Far below, the deer stared back at him from the surface of the water before turning and walking away -- walking down into the water -- without leaving so much as a ripple.

At that moment, the surface of the lake burst into bright colors. It was an Aurora, but it was not reflected in the sky. No, it wasn’t a lake. It was another sky. It was a Nibelungen!

Chu Zihang let go of the cliff he was clinging to and plummeted towards the surface below. He fell through the lake but never got wet, instead, coming through on the other side into a swirl of color. The colors then retracted, fading into the distance. He was suspended, right side up in complete darkness as though he had stepped off the edge of the world.

There, waiting for him, was not a deer, but a familiar set of black hair and black eyes. He hadn’t seen them in a long time. The memory gave him pause but in the next instant his emotion drove her name from his lips. 

“Xia Mi?”

That laugh, music to his ears, echoed like running water in a cave. “You’re still calling me by that name? Did you get stupid while I was gone?”

“How…? You… were…”

“Dead?” She finished the sentence for him. “It’s weird. I don't know how I ended up here either. My brother… he’s dead… I… I can’t find him.” Her eyes lowered.

She stood before him, completely naked, her hair so long it fell like dark fabric on the invisible surface they stood on. Stars gittered beneath their feet. The Aurora danced in the background like green tongues of fire. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

She raised her eyes. “Can we start over? Like we did before?” She reached out to him but he leaned away from her. “Don’t worry. I won’t erase your memory again. I don’t want to.”

“Without your brother, you can’t turn into Hela....” Zihang began but then he stopped speaking abruptly.

“But that doesn’t change who I am. Is that what you want to say?” She lowered her hand to her side. “Is there really no way?”

Zihang stared at her, remembering the last time he saw her, just like this, right before she raised her claws to plunge them into his heart. If she drew close, would it happen again? This time he didn’t have Anjou’s dagger to save him. But salvation was never his aim anyway. He couldn’t let her become Hela, but he remembered the feeling that his own death would be okay. Even as her spines pierced his body, he never let her go.

He was okay with dying with her then. Ever since then, her memory had haunted him. As he looked at her now, he wondered if it had been her calling for him all along. But he couldn’t die now. Lu Mingfei was out in the snow alone.

As the silence wore on, Xia Mi’s eyes glittered with intense sadness. She seemed on the verge of tears, a sob escaping her throat. She covered her face with her hands for a moment. Then, she gathered herself, taking a few breaths. “Do you want me to apologize? What do you want me to say? You understood me when I talked to you. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want it to happen that way! I tried to stop you! But you’re just too… stubborn and smart and…” She hung her head and laughed, her dark hair falling like a thin veil.

“Fine… I finally found you and you refuse. It’s just like I said right?” She raised one hand and flipped her hair out of her face. “Just because a guy goes out of his way for a girl doesn’t mean she has to accept.”

A bright light suddenly illuminated her face and the tears tracking down them. Zihang turned to look at a bright square of light that appeared like a gate behind him. “Go on then. Go. Don’t think about me any more.”

Chu Zihang turned back to her.

“Did I stutter or something?” She wiped her face with the back of her arm. “Stop staring at me like a dumb cow and go! It’s not like you’ve never seen a girl cry before.”

Zihang shook his head slowly and walked forward.

She snorted. “What? Are you changing your mind? Or are you going to kill me again?” She grinned through her tears as he grew closer. “Fine… fine… it’s better to be dead anyway.”  

She held out her hand to him, to embrace him, just like before. “At least when you do it this time make sure it-”

Zihang stopped her words, kissing her. Her eyes flew open in shock. She always imagined that his lips would be soft, but the combination of the softness and the warmth made her shiver. She was too stunned to move and stood quiet when he pulled away, softly dragging her lips after his as he parted.  He took her still outstretched hand and his fingers twined around hers. “Let’s go.”

She gasped, the light of the portal now shining on her pure joy.

[katsukikitten]

Princess 10

The sound of murmuring stirs you, mixed with the pain in your side and calf.

The pain has you sitting striaght up in bed, feeling out for Katsuki to only find cool sheets.

You finally spy the ash blonde as your eyes finally have the chance to catch up to your instincts. He is standing half in and half out of the yurt speaking lowly to someone, by the looks of the early morning sun casting a shadow over the figure it seems to be a man.

"I've brought healing water and herbal tea, my fierceness." A soothing voice answers the low hiss.

"She is still asleep." It is odd to hear his voice come out harsh so early in the morning. Especially after the contrast of its softness last night.

*"Mo Chuisle."*

Heat floods your cheeks faster than the night can replay before your fingers ghost an action from last night. Caressing at the pulse that stands on the other side of the door. A pulse you so needlessly controlled.

"Let him in." Your voice sounds raw, as if you swallowed shards of glass, you attempt to clear your throat but the broken sound stays lodged in deep. Crimson turns on you, searing into you like red hot coals, you let your bottom lip protrude just a bit before he flings the curtain of a door open with an angry hiss.

"My queen." He bows and you rush to right him in your laced robe, your hands shaking as they set the tray of tea on the low table. You bite back the wince from the movement.

"Please I am far from. I used you like a puppet last night." It is apology enough for the dark haired man as he smiles at you warmly. Somehow thinking of how to save your pride. He grabs onto your hand with a soft smile.

"Apology accepted my ire." You return his smile before you feel something cool dangling on your wrist, it is light yet heavy as is the call of water in the air. You look to your wrist astonished to see a gift of small black stones.

"I cannot accept this." You go to remove it from your delicate yet deadly arm before a heavy hand wraps just below the jewelry.

"Princess, in this culture if royalty does not accept a gift from their people it is considered a great dishonor to the gifter." Katsuki is back to his usual gruff self, he removes his hand as he makes his way to fix your tea.

"It is made from stones softened by the river that used to house my family's water wrym." Mizu smiles, "I hope it is acceptable."

"It is, more than enough. Thank you." You clasp his hands, you open your mouth to ask where their wrym had gone when you notice tears welling in his eyes. You squeeze his hands instead.

"You may leave." Bakugou bites out and Mizu takes a deep bow.

"My wrath. Shall I return for evening tea and a bath?" He asks still bent at the waist. Bakugou's eyes narrow and you cannot tell if it is from agitation or exhaustion.

"Yes. Now continue your duties." With that the tall man bows ever further before righting himself, leaving the yurt in silence.

Katsuki holds tea out to you, his eyes fixated on your cheek before he sighs taking a seat in the relaxed blood leather chair. Silence envelops the room not as it does at your old home, where it is stiff and smothering from the weight of things unsaid.

No it is....comfortable.

Nothing but the two of you and the call of his blood beating in time with yours.

*"Mo Chuisle."* Echos through your head again and you sigh softly.

You feel odd, sipping your tea as Bakugou looks over reports Kirishima must have wanted to share with him last night.

You think of his capable hands delicately massaging a lather into your hair. You gulp many emotions.

Embarrassment.

Exhilaration.

Desire.

The last emotions catches and you clear your throat.

The weight of the water stones pull at your wrist and you think in the silence.

How many dragons have you seen in the Bad Lands?

In what was *supposed* to be in the dragon kingdom?

The answer was simple you had only ever seen Ryu. Curiosity begins to burn it's way through as Bakugou ruffles through documents, pushing a set of them towards you.

But you couldn't care less about those right now. No right now you needed to know.

"Where had all the dragons gone?" You ask aloud, scarlet eyes shift to you, watching you closely.

Noting that you are sitting abnormally, favoring your right side, breathing slightly shallow as if labored. He bites the inside of his lip when he realizes you hadn't healed that wound much at all last night.

Droplets of blood seep through the bandages confirming what he knows.

He sighs realizing you would be the death of him.

Little did he know the weight of that thought.

He chews on the thought as you look to him for the first time since meeting with patient eyes. It was a little known fact that the land of dragons was almost dragonless.

"I would like to know. I would love to hear the true history compared to the rumors. I heard the first dragon king was chosen before the High King." You sip your tea, trying to even your breathing so he does not know your slight discomfort.

Bakugou stares with heated hungry eyes before settling on the matter. He figures this is better than you raising hell across the great Ocean.

"That is true. Over 200 years ago the Mother Dragon nested in this land." His voice is gruff but it does not deter your questions.

"And?!"

Another sigh escapes him, eyes still laced with concern that you should still be resting in bed. He notes that you look happy, ecstatic, emotions you have yet to show here or maybe they were never aimed at him.

So a leather chair will have to do.

"Settle in Princess. As this story can be quite long." You bite the inside of your lip as you swing your feet beneath your toned ass, holding onto your tea with both hands as you patiently wait.

"As I said the Mother Dragon nested in these very lands. The great forefather guided our traveling tribe through the lands from the base of, then, Iroh mountain to the deadly cliffs of the Great Ocean."

"The Bad Lands." You breathe and Bakugou notices the pure awe and curiosity in your tone, he cannot help the smile that crosses his face as he nods.

"The Bad Lands." He repeats before continuing on.

"The Great Warrior, the first Wrath of this land, could track, hunt and kill any animal faster than all of his people combined. His quirk gave him the advantage. He followed the brute bison here during a fateful summer. My people set up their homes, painted their canvases to show their Wrath their joy in the location. So much so that some elders even begged to stay here after only a month. Claiming the land was fruitful, joyous and would be for years to come. But Wrath would entertain no such thing. Following the game and avoiding the summer droughts is what kept my people alive for so long before. The resources of this part of land were about to be used up. Two nights before they were set to leave, fire engulfed the sky followed by a deafening roar miles from the village. Wrath believed it to be an act of war, he took himself and two of his great men out to see while telling the others to stay behind.They marched beneath the stars, being guided by the occasional burst of flame before finally spying the cause."

You sip your tea quietly, eyes thinking back to the paintings you enjoyed not too long ago. Of the one with Bakugou reaching out to the mysterious woman, a giant black dragon soaring high above the two of them.

"Mother dragon!" You exclaim suddenly and he nods.

"She was a legend, a myth to my people and to others all around. It was said only one of her black scales would be worth more than any kingdom. And there she was a sitting duck, trapped by a poachers net. Wrath saw an opportunity, she was already injured and her scales would be easy for the taking. He told his men to watch his back as he formulated his plan to kill her. He jumped, arching in the air, dodging fire at the last second. His spear raised high for the final blow before he met her eyes. His heart filled heavy with dread so he threw his spear into the ground and landed before her. Suddenly she was no longer game to be hunted. He pulled the spikes from her wingless body and disentangled her from the weaved iron. She whipped her tail against Wrath sending him flying into his men before a heavy storm suddenly erupted over head. Pounding rain ending the weeks worth of drought as she disappeared into the moonless sky."

You wait patiently for him to add more but he leaves it there. Half to tease and half for suspense, as Reo did him when he first heard the story.

"And then what?!" You bite the bait and he smirks.

"And then the next morning his Furry had a huge black egg in front of his yurt. It hatched Tatsu. As forefather Wrath and Tatsu interacted Mother Dragon watched from afar. It was said Tatsu and Wrath could share feelings and thoughts with one another. This must have pleased Mother dragon as she allowed for more eggs to appear. My people still traveled but always returned here for summer for her gift of eggs. But as time grew on my people neglected to come, especially so when their dragons would bring eggs to different regions of the land. Soom making Mother Dragon a myth again. So the eggs began to dwindle until their was only one left. A bright red egg that would hatch for no one. Most thought it was a dud but that did not stop them from passing it down from generation to generation especially after the last dragon had died out fifty years after its appearance." He sips his now cooled tea, drinking you in as much as the hibiscus and elder berry.

He watches your lip quiver, while your eyes seem to brim. He grinds his teeth almost hating the sight.

"Ryu is the last dragon?" Your voice catches and it pulls harshly at Bakugou's chest. He sets his tea down and picks up his documents again.

"Yes." He says grimly and you stare into your the pinkish brown liquid.

"What of Mother Dragon is she dead?"

"The elders, especially Ki believe she is still alive, immortal. That she still lays eggs and waits for another worthy leader to guide the era of Dragon again."

Silence settles between the two of you as it all swirls in your head.

This was nothing like the rumors. In fact it was the opposite, it was said that Bakugou's people were barbaric, killing the dragon's just to have their eggs before heating then in a fire to hatch.

"How did Ryu hatch?" You break the silence and Bakugou gives you a borderline amused look.

"Mother and Father kept his egg in their room but I was always drawn to him depsite my mother yelling at me to stay away. I would swear it would whisper my name at night and one day I thought my explosions would help wake him up. Help him hatch. When I was very young I slapped my hands on the shell and let go a violent explosion. He hatched right away and bit me before snaking into my hair."

You laugh aloud, ignoring the pain that growls by your rib.

"Only you Bakugou." Your smile is contagious before you take another sip of your tea. Finally picking up the documents before you. Flicking through redundant reports before you spy a familiar script.

Your vision blurs red as you read the document in your shaking hand, collecting water from the air unknowingly.

"Princess?" Bakugou deep voice melds with worry and agitation from your sudden outburst.

"When did Kirishima get these notes?" Your voice shakes with rage as Bakugou begins to scowl.

"Last night before our return from the cliffs." He leans closer to you, watching water vapor appear on the air and noting your blood pooling into the air as well.

"Give me some of the burden mo chuisle." He growls, touching one of his scarred hands with yours, "Now."

You flip the paper for him to read.

*"Do not let me get my hands on him or that village, little girl."*

Your heart roars in your chest as you watch scarlet eyes skim over the paper.

Perfect scarlet eyes that you can so suddenly see popping out of their sockets. Ash blonde suddenly chunked and stained crimson while bloodied shrapnel litter the floor and meaty forearms. The smell of smoke fills your nostrils along with the acrid smell of sweet meat and burning hair.

"We need to leave." You heave with unqueanched rage putting a heavy pressure on the land before the sky can no longer take it, erupting overhead. Lightening and thunder dance between the droplets as Bakugou stares at you. The ground shakes before Ryu roars along with the thunder just outside the yurt.

His pulse rushes when he meets your eyes, something dark is lying beneath your stunning orbs.

"What of your wound?" He snarls and you grip his forearm with shaking hands.

Shaking from rage over the threat of Bakugou's and your people's safety.

Shaking from fear as suddenly you feel all of their blood all at once before water whips around the room.

"Now Bakugou. We have to beat him to the punch. Just you and just me."

"What? That is idoitic! We are not equivalent to the two armies we have." Your nails bite blood half moons into his forearms.

"I know. Father will never guess that it would be just you and I. We can send Kirishima and a small set of troops a few days after via ship. We need to end this before it begins." This time you rise shedding your laced rope to pull on the now tattered jumpsuit with the white fur. You turn to Bakugou as he stares after you, shirtless and still dressed in sleeping shorts.

Angry eyes follow your form as you set out an outfit for him evening knowing to pull out a particular set of ancient teeth as if you already knew.

The teeth of Tatsu bloodied from battles won long long ago.

It is then he realize he cannot stop you and if he had any doubt before you squash it with your next words.

"I'm going to protect our people, even if it fucking kills me."

@ha-tep. Enjoy bb!!!

[geminiamethyst]

Dragon Seekers. Chapter 14

Chapter 1: click HERE

Chapter 13: click HERE

Chapter 15: click HERE

After crying for what felt like a lifetime, Jamie finally calmed down. He felt like a completely different person from who he was when he first came here. He felt so enclosed, but now he felt more open. Was that normal in a situation like this?

Jamie tried not to think about what is normal anymore. Instead he focused more on what he should do next. He wondered if he should rest more, but Ember offered for him to meet her family properly. Not wanting to appear rude, Jamie accepted. With Ember’s help, he was able to walk through the house and downstairs. That’s where Ash, Pyro and his fiancé were waiting to see him finally out of bed. Still feeling ashamed, Jamie reintroduced himself to Pyro, trying to overcome the forest interaction they had. Pyro only laughed it off, reminding Jamie that he took no offence to his actions. He excitedly introduced Jamie to his fiancé, Blake, who was just as keen to speak to the boy.

Once introductions were done, everyone was seated around the dining table. They all had had a cool beverage, much to Jamie’s relief. After telling Ember everything, he decided to come clean about how he got to where Ash found him. The family listened carefully to him. They seemed surprised at how he told them of his world and the fact that dragons didn’t exist, only creatures to be told in stories.

“So, you’re really from another world?” Blake asked, scratching his head confusingly. Jamie’s silence only confirmed his answer. “I want to say that I don’t believe you, but it makes sense when you consider everything.”

“Let me tell you, if I ever see your stepdad, I’ll beat him up so bad that he’ll think twice about picking on weak people,” Ash declared, scowling at how Jamie described how he ended up in this world. While he didn’t tell them all the details of abuse, like he did for Ember, it wasn’t hard for Ash to figure out.

“Ashley!” Ember scolded, appalled by what Ash had said.

“I’m just saying! If that guy thinks he can punch me, I’ll show him a thing or two about abusing people!” Ash scowled, banging her fist on the table furiously. Jamie felt concerned as she said that. On one hand, he’d love to see Carl get a taste of his own medicine, but on the other, he didn’t want to see Ash getting hurt. Not that he doubted her ability to fight, he just didn’t want to feel like it would be his fault. You can’t solve everything with violence after all.

“That’s besides the point, Ash,” Pyro pondered as he light drummed his fingers on the table. “Sounds to me that an old form of magic was what brought you here, Jamie.”

“So, you know how to get me home?” Jamie asked, wide eyed with hope. Unfortunately, that that hope died as the family around him looked solum.

“Sorry, kiddo. You’re looking at the wrong family for help,” Blake sighed, looking like he wished that he had more to say. Jamie felt like the world was swallowing him up. It was bad enough for him to be far from home, but if no one knew how to get him home, it only made everything more grim for him. Ash frowned a little as she looked at Jamie. She seemed to be contemplating something before abruptly getting up.

“Right. Pity party over. Have the dragons been fed yet?” she sighed as she looked at Pyro and Blake.

“Not yet, sis,” Pyro grinned.

“Good! Jamie, time for you to have a real introduction to our dragons,” Ash smiled, before dashing off somewhere. “I’ll get you some footwear.”

“Ashley, Jamie isn’t ready to walk yet,” Ember reminded her daughter.

“I know! Which is why Pyro is going to carry him!” Ash shouted back, not giving Jamie a chance to say anything. After a minute of hearing her rummage through some things, she finally came back, carrying a pair of black boots, identical to hers. “Try these. You’re roughly my size, so they should fit.” The boots were shoved into Jamie’s hands before he could say a word. Ash was incredibly insistent on him coming with her. He really should be recovering and relax, but he really wanted to see the dragons again. He gently slipped the boots on his feet, doing his best not to aggravate his injuries. The boots were more comfortable than he thought. He expected them to be quite tight and hard to wear, but his feet felt like he had stepped into something soft, like cotton. It felt great. As soon as he pulled his jeans over the boots, Pyro knelt down, back to him. Hesitantly, Jamie latched onto the young man, accepting the offer for a piggyback ride. Pyro carried him as if he weighed next to nothing. Ash stood by the door, holding a silver spear in one hand. The same one that dealt with the monster that attacked Jamie.

“Ashley, must you take that spear with you? You won’t need it,” Ember ashes, but she sounded like she knew the answer.

“Dad gave it to me, so I can fight. You never know when it comes to non-dragon creatures, Mum,” Ash sighed heavily, sick with the question that has clearly been asked before. Ember also sighed heavily as she gave up trying to change her stubborn daughter’s mind. Taking it as a sign that she’s won, Ash flung open the door, causing a blast of hot air to enter the house. Jamie flinched quite violently as the heat hit him again after being in the house for a while. Ash and Pyro were obviously not affected by the heat as they walked outside. The door gently closed behind them as they strode out towards the stable. Jamie thigh that that it would be hard for him to breathe again like last time. He was quite surprised to find that he could breathe quite well. He looked around, noticing a slight shimmering in the sky. There was a transparent dome around the area. Magic was the reason why it was so easy to breathe, it had to be. Magic as seemingly as simple as this, put Jamie’s talent of doing slight of hand effortlessly to shame. He was outmatched when it came to magic now.

Approaching the barn, Ash pushed open the large door easily. As Pyro followed her in, there was an uproar of growls with small puffs of smoke hanging in the air. The barn was bigger than he gave it credit for as it housed four dragons. The first two that he recognised as being Pyro’s and Blake’s. The third dragon was the biggest of them all, staring at Jamie with charcoal black eyes as it seemed to study him. It’s scales were a deep rouge. As Jamie looked at it, he deduced that it must be Ember’s dragon.

“Hey, Cinder!” Ash smiled as she dashed up to the smallest dragon, the size of a mini van. It was a light grey colour, the colour of ashes. It had bright, ember coloured eyes as it turned to see the got, approaching it. It bowed its head at Ash, purring as the girl stroked its head. Jamie didn’t think dragons could purr as he always thought that they growled and roared, breathing fire carelessly as they did so.

“Down you go, Jamie,” Pyro smiled, bending down a little as he stood in front of a hay block. Jamie let go as he was gently placed to sit down on it. Pyro seems satisfied as he looked over at Ash. “Come get me when you’re done, so I can help carry Jamie back in.”

“Got it!” Ash smiled back before Pyro left the barn, closing the door behind him. Jamie didn’t take much notice as he watched the magnificent creatures around him. They were fidgeting a little impatiently as Ash disappeared behind a separate door. He waited curiously as he heard her rummaging around in there, when Ash’s dragon trotted over to him. He tensed up, not sure as what to do. Ember’s dragon rumbled at the small dragon, almost like a warning. Cinder didn’t seem to take notice. It sniffed at Jamie, almost like how a dog greets a new human with caution. Jamie remained as still as he could, worried about what might happen if he made a wrong move. Cinder continued to sniff for a few more seconds, before starting to nuzzle Jamie a little. Briefly surprised by this, Jamie gently brought his hand up to Cinder’s head, brushing over the smooth scales. The young dragon purred again at the attention.

“She likes you. I’m shocked,” Ash smiled, pushing a large wheelbarrow in front of her. “Normally Cinder isn’t that friendly towards new people.” Jamie smiled back at Ash as she continued to push the wheelbarrow, which was filled up to the brim with some fresh looking meat. The dragons diverted their attention towards her, seemingly excited to receive the food she brought with her. Ash gladly obliged as she dumped the meat into a troth. As she rushed back to get more, the dragons started to snaffle up the meat. All but Cinder, as she suddenly started sniffing Jamie again. Or more specifically, his pocket.

“Hey! Cinder! Leave him be and eat!” Ash called out as she dumped another reload of meat into the troth. Cinder didn’t seem to listen as she pocked at Jamie’s pocket with her snout. Ash shook her head but finished off her chore by adding two more loads of meat.

“Cinder! Go on!” she finally scolded her dragon, gently pushing the scaled creature away. Cinder grunted, but did as she was told, finding the food more interesting all of a sudden. Ash scratched her head as she watched as the youngest dragon was finally eating. “Strange. She’s never done that before.” Jamie looked down at his pocket. At first he thought that he might had be had a sweet in his pocket that Cinder picked up on.

Then he saw the outline of a familiar shape.

How could he forget?!

Jamie hurriedly dug into his pocket, feeling a metal he immediately recognised. He pulled it out and laid the dragon statue, right in front of Ash. She turned, looking at the statue for a split second before looking back t the dragons. Then she snapped her eyes towards it again.

“Wha-how’d you get a Soul Statue?!” she exclaimed, eyes as wide as inner plates.

Jamie looked at his new friend in surprise.

What did she just say?!

[therewasatale]

Kindred spirits

On Ao3.

There are countless interdimensional service and food establishments across the multiverse. In some cases, the building or the interior itself is travelling from world to world, sometimes buying items in one dimension and selling them in the next one. In other cases, only the opening door appears in different or even multiple worlds, and the interior is situated in some kind of pocket space. Probably because the rent is cheaper that way.

One of these latter places was the "Beasts Den", a small smoky pub which served as a refuge for everyone who was obsessed with exotic or magical animals. It was a strange niche for an establishment but considering the vastness of the universe, it would have been stranger for it not to exist. As it is all people in the multiverse who had that strange gentle insanity which led to someone naming a twenty-meter-long scaled beast with claws longer than kitchen knife and multiple tentacles "Fluffy", had the potential to find this place.

It appeared as an old wooden door scratched and burned multiple times with the letters "Beasts Dean, Animals welcome" hammered into it in metal letters. It was usually found when those aforementioned people were at a low point in their life, and they needed some company aside, or with their little house pets.

And if someone, Rubeus Hagrid was in need of something to get the weight off his mind, and some stiff drinks would have been a great start. Honestly, he would have considered it a great continuation, and probably finish as well, but it didn’t turn out well the last time. He was heading towards the Hog's Head but turned down between two houses when he noticed something unusual. He knew Hogsmead like the back of his hand but he never saw that battered door before.  And now he was in front of it in a back alleyway.

He knew he shouldn’t.

Unknown new doors appearing in a wizard village were usually the result of some prankster, or something even more sinister, but Hagrid didn’t care anymore. It looked like an inn, seemed welcoming, and he really, really needed something to drink. He pushed down the door handle, and to his surprise, there was no shower of confetti or fart noise, but it opened into an actual pub.

The room was filled with the smell of something acrid, smoke, alcohol, and thousand more, not many of them pleasant. There were perches, boxes, and cages everywhere, hiding serpentine or furry shapes which watched the patrons with suspicious eyes. On the perches sat a variety of critters from birds seemingly made out of pure crystal to a lemur kind of primate which had membranes under its arms. To Hagrid's surprise the patrons were just as varied as the animals.

There was a person wearing a trench coat and a matching hat, feeding chicken nuggets to something similar to a small demonic dog. There was also a young man around his twenties with a red and white patterned baseball cap playing with a couple of similarly designed small balls and drinking a half-emptied mug of beer.

On the other side of the pub a muscular woman wearing animal pelts was letting her bear drink from her wine glass as she gently petted the animal's head. Hagrid didn’t even get the usual stares regarding his height and stature as he lumbered in. He walked to the counter and took a seat beside a solemn looking brown-haired woman who wore slightly singed thick letter clothing.

The barstool barely creaked under him when he sat down and as he moved around it adjusted to his size. He leaned against the counter and let his earlier melancholy flow back into him. It was a wonderous place, but right now it just reminded him of what he had to give up. He sighed as he raised his hand.

A big man, almost his size stepped up to him on the other side of the counter He had a mass of scars for a face, and an eyepatch, but despite this he wore a surprisingly gentle smile on his face.

"Good evening. What can I get for you?"

"Evening. A pint of beer, and after that keep it coming, please. I had a rough day. "

The barkeep nodded with an all-knowing smile. During his long time as the barkeep in the "Beasts Den" he seen this countless times. In his opinion a good barkeep didn’t asked if the patron didn’t want to speak, and more importantly never judged. He just provided a port in the storm.

"Aren't we all. " Huffed the woman right next to Hagrid. She was drinking sherry from a wine glass and wore an expression just as downcast as his own.

"Mhmm." Answered Hagrid as he got his mug of beer. He contemplated to say something or not, but after a bit of deliberation he decided that he needed it off his chest, and besides if someone, the strange people in this pub would understand it.

"I had to give up my pet. He grew up to be too big, and the principal said I couldn’t keep it around the school where I work as a groundskeeper." The half giant sighed and emptied his glass in a couple of big gulps. "I loved that little rascal. "

"I am really sorry." Said the woman with a gentle expression and patted the man's shoulder. "I know how hard is can be to lose a pet. Sybil Ramkin by the way."

She extended her hand the groundskeeper of Hogwarts took it into his shovel sized ones and shook it.

"Rubeus Hagrid. And yes, its, really hard." Hagrid could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He reached into his pocket and started dabbing them away with his half-charred handkerchief." He…he was feisty, but I know its jut because that’s how he showed his love. I-I will always miss him. I remember when he was little, he always tried to bite off my fingers." Sobbed Hagrid slowly and heaved a mighty sigh.

"It's all right, just let it all out," smiled gently Sybil and petted the man's giant hand.

"My poor Norbert is now away somewhere in Romania in a sanctuary. I don’t even know if he will like it there. Anyway…" Hagrid shook his head and wiped away his tears as he got another pint of beer from the barkeep. "…I don’t just want to vent on you. Why are you here? You said you had a bad day too?"

"Oh yes, I have some problem with poor Thaddeus here." She leaned to her left and patted a big carrier box beside her chair. Something hissed at her as an answer. "He is a rescue, but he is bit cranky, have a dull color and already an adult, so I'm afraid no-one will want to adopt him. I can't keep him with the others because he is really territorial with them. I am afraid I will have to put him down." Sybil sighed and it was her turn to take out a handkerchief and use it to wipe away a couple of big tears from her face.

Hagrid nodded solemnly as he looked at the box, when a sudden wild idea appeared in his head.

"I could take him." He said before his head managed to consider any consequences.

"Don’t say things like that." Waved the woman as she got hold of her emotions. "You don’t even know what he is."

Hagrid deflated a little bit and nodded. It was true, and, he had a habit of picking up all sort of critters without first learning how to properly take care of them. He emptied his mug of beer again before starting to speak again.

"Sorry, I just feel empty after losing my dragon, and…" Sybil choked a bit on her own drink and placed it down between a couple of big coffs.

"Dragon…Your Norbert was a dragon?" She coughed as Hagrid nodded again wondering what became of her.

"Yeah, a Norwegian Ridgeback. He became too big, and I had to give him away to a Dragon Sanctuary. What?" Asked Hagrid because the women were looking at him as intently as if she was trying to stare holes into him.

"How big is too big?" She asked suddenly.

"I…what?" Asked Hagrid completely baffled.

"How about, two feet maybe? No bigger?" Asked again Sybil hurriedly and leaned closer with a very determined expression.

"Uh…If Norbert would have been just two feet long there would have been no problem keeping him, yes. But he wasn’t, and…"

Sybil reached down and raised the small box from beside him, eliciting a disapproving gurgling noise from its resident. Through the holes on its side one could see a serpentine body, little stubby legs, a dull green color, and two suspicious little eyes.

"Have you ever had a Narrowe-Eared Smut?" Asked Sybil as she deposited the box in the lap of his drinking buddy.

Hagrid blinked a couple of times and gently wiggled a finger near one of the holes. The answer was a small but spirited gust of flame.

"Not yet." Answered the half giant with a warm tone in his voice. "But I would like to try."

"Well, I have a small booklet with me." Smiled Sybil gently. "Someone who loves dragons can't be a bad person, and at this point I would do anything to spare poor Thaddeus from the chopping block. " The woman's hand disappeared inside her pockets and she deposited a couple of items into the counter beside her sherry glass.

A golden pocket watch, a couple coal tablets, a small metal spoon, a notebook and a couple chewed up pencils. Finally, from the bottom of the pocket appeared a small booklet titled.

"Swamp Dragons and you: The Narrowe-Eared Smut and its care." She slid the paper towards Hagrid and smiled.

"There, everything is there that you need to know about the breed. "

Hagrid, still a bit shell shocked nodded, and slid the booklet inside his own, just as cluttered pocket. As Sybil slowly put everything back into her pocket, she glanced at the pocket watch she took out the first time, then flushed.

"By the gods, it's this late already? I have to be at the palace in half an hour and I need to change before that. Sorry Hagrid but I really have to go.  Hello, dearie." She patted the box gently as she stood up and placed a handful of coins on the counter. "If you have any question find me at the Ramkin residence, you two have a dragon of a time together. " Chuckled Sybill before storming out the door.

Hagrid only caught a glimpse from view outside, but the graffitied alleyway seemed much different from the one which he stepped in from.

"Wai-" The half giant tried to say something, but his talking partner was already out of the door. "Palace? Ramkin residence?" He muttered as he glanced down at the little box inside his lap. "I have never heard of such places."

The strange little creature answered with a small bubbling noise and belched a little cloud of smoke.

"Neither did I heard of swamp dragons. Well…It looks like I have something else to do instead of just moping." Hagrid smiled and placed a couple of coins on the counter before taking the box with him stepping out the door.

He found the alleyway just the same as it was when he stepped in. It wouldn’t be polite from a magic bar to not make sure that people somehow always get home after a night of heavy drinking. Glancing back, he wasn’t even surprised to see that the door had disappeared behind him.

"Well, I don’t really know what happened but one thing I do know." Hagrid looked down at the creature which was trying to scratch out the side of the box. "We are going to get along like a house on fire. " Smiled Hagrid and begin to walk home.

What he didn’t know that it was in fact a hut on fire, multiple times. And more than a few scratches and bites. But despite that, he wouldn’t have traded Thaddeus for all the treasures of the world.

[nisargatale]

NisargaTale Prologue

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[Starting game...]

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*Yes*

[Lauching @10|\|3-Tale ]

Once, humans and monsters ruled the world.

One day, a war broke out between the two races.

After a long battle, the humans were victorious and the monsters fled to Mount Ebott.

On both sides, the war never stopped and 10 years later, they launched a final assault, humans against monsters.

[Loading in progress...]

-Saigo... Saigo ! Wake up !!

Rising suddenly, with his senses alert and his body trembling, a young skeleton woke up at the foot of a tree. His two pupils, green and red, looked around with the sensation of being lost. Next to him, a still smoking campfire reminded him that he had set up camp for the night here, at the top of a small hill, protected by several trees.

Massaging his face, Saigo made sure that his crown was still in place and his pendant was still around his neck. He readjusted his blue scarf before rising to look up at the sky. The sun was high in the sky and he had had another nightmare... That voice calling out to him again, every night, every time he closed his eyes. That voice that had haunted him for a long time...

Tapping his clothes to remove any soil that may have accumulated overnight, he checked his left arm for the presence of his armband and his vials of poisons, all filled and ready to use. Grabbing his sword that he had placed beside him, he tightened the strap around his pelvis, hanging it on the ties of his shorts.

Crushing the embers of his old campfire for safety, he headed towards the plain that lay in front of him. The blue, cloudless sky seemed to disappear in the distance, behind huge mountains. A river meandered its way through the woods of a vast forest, and in the sky the cry of the flying dragons echoed as they performed their aerial ballet. Still observing a little more of this queen nature, Saigo finally turned his heels, ready to continue on his way...

-I have a feeling it's going to be a beautiful day. Mumbled the skeleton. Today I'll find someone.

Coming down from his hill, while listening to the birds singing and the wind bringing him the cries of the animals, Saigo headed towards the forest, aiming to cross it hoping to find what he was looking for.

No sooner had he arrived in this one, his footsteps became more discreet, remaining on the lookout for the slightest noise and smell. Suddenly, a creak caused him to hide behind a tree, letting a lupine-shaped creature almost two meters high at the withers pass by. The creature's long, bushy tail stroked the vegetation in its path, while Saigo could hear its breath passing between its fangs as it opened its mouth, indicating that the creature seemed to be on the hunt. He had to keep a low profile if he didn't want to become its prey...

The creature eventually passes his way, allowing Saigo to continue on his way, sighing with relief. Whenever he came across such a creature, he always had his soul beating a hundred miles an hour, preferring to keep a low profile so he wouldn't have to fight them. Oh, he had fought them before... But he avoided as much as possible... For he was nothing in this immense nature that was queen of this world.

A few metres further on, the skeleton saw a giant bird's nest with the eggs left unattended. A hearty breakfast with a luxury dish if he could manage to sting them. Except that as soon as the egg was taken, a giant yellow bird came running towards him, waving its wings. Saigo ran away hoping to save his breakfast, but it was a lost cause... The bird ran much faster and was forced to give him back his egg after being pecked on the head several times. It will be berries again for breakfast...

Saigo continued to walk until his sweet berries were swallowed up, before he saw the shape of a village in front of him. Finally he found one...

A new village, in ruins... Just like all the ones he'd found so far. Rushing down his alleys, he observed everything around him, deploring any presence... This village too was empty, the houses were destroyed and vegetation had begun to grow on the walls, slowly taking back its rightful place on this land.

Sad to find no survivors this time, Saigo headed to what he thought was the village bar. Maybe he could find some food and drink still preserved there. As he entered, he wasn't surprised to see that the place seemed to have been abandoned in a hurry. The furniture was still in place, old ketchup or mayonnaise containers were still lying on the tables, and glasses were lying on the counter, barely cracked.

Heading immediately to the reserve, Saigo had fun opening any cupboards or chests of drawers he could find, hoping to discover a small treasure. And his pupils lit up when he came across an old bottle of wine, which still seemed to be in very good condition. Besides, good wine could be kept for years! It was a very good discovery!

Happy, he uncorked the bottle before drinking it, immediately spitting out his sip. The taste was horrible... Probably expired because it was badly converted, having undergone too many changes in temperature during its many years of abandonment... Saigo whined about his false hope, not having drunk a drink worthy of the name for so long, and put the bottle back on the bar counter.

-Okay, well... He said as he looked at the place. I'm not going to linger here either... There's no one here either...

Coming out of the bar, he began to wander through the devastated streets again, imagining what kind of human or monster might have lived here, imagining what life must have been like here before. He imagined the children running between the alleys, watched over by their parents, going to play in the forest. But was this forest there, surrounding this village? Or had nature ended up hiding this village, like many others, while taking back its rights?

Saigo sighed softly as he made his way to the opposite exit of this village, in order to continue his journey and continue hoping to find what he was looking for.

Suddenly, a noise under his feet startled him as he looked down to notice that he had stepped on an old doll. Probably the former companion of a child, his former confidant, perhaps his friend... Saigo imagined the many games the owner had to play with his little doll, the number of adventures they had to live together.

A faint smile appeared on his face as he stared at the doll, which was covered in dirt, faded and damaged. The child to whom it was supposed to belong was surely dead... ...as were many others... Laying the doll against a wall, Saigo stared at it, feeling his soul clenching it.

-Damn war... How many more lifeless scenes will I find? Murmured the skeleton. You really didn't leave any survivors... ? Except me...?

~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry if there are spelling mistakes, english isn’t my language 

Next chap : here

[undeaddragon42]

The Magician's Bar

Lenard opened the bag of chips and dumped them into a bowl. He then brought it over to the couch where he and Michael were hanging out playing video games. 

“So what should we play?” asked Michael.

“I just got Demon Masquerade,” said Lenard.

“Sweet,” said Michael, selecting it. After an hour or two of playing and drinking the topic was on VIP bars. “I hate those stupid elite VIP bars. They have one for everyone now. I even heard from Damian that there is another "special" elite bar on the edge of town.”

“Who's allowed in?” burped Lenard.

“Magician's,” answered Michael, “Can you believe it? Damian said that in order to enter they had to pull off a small, but impressive magic trick. He saw a guy float an apple, a girl turned one dice into two, and someone turned a wand into a flower.”

“Dang,” said Lenard, taking a drink then sat there for a monument and stated, “I’m going to sneak in.”

Michael paused the game and turned to Lenard, “How?”

“Well… I don’t know,” said Lenard, “differently cheating” After that, they spoke about it for a little bit then switched to other topics for the rest of the night.

The next morning when Lenard woke up he had a foggy memory of the previous nights. Other than that his day went like any other day. Wake up, breakfast, school, work, home. When he got home, he went to play Demon Masquerade to see that they made it to the halfway point. Which reminded him of the previous night. Then set out to do homework. 

During homework time Lenard’s mind kept going to this supposed magician's elite bar and how much he wanted to see what was going on inside. After homework, he made a plan to cheat his way in. He got two gloves and put small hooks on the palms of each glove. Second, he got a small string and put hoops on both ends. Next, he got a cotton ball and pulled out some stings, then added it to the other string with hoops. Finally, he rigged a lighter to flicker when he flicked his wrists.

That weekend Lenard asked Michael where the bar was again and placed a bet of 50 dollars that he could get in. When he arrived there was a small line to get into what seemed like a dead bar on the outside. The people in front of him made light from nowhere, lighting around their hands, scaly hands, etc. While he wanted he attached the string to one glove.

When he got up the bouncer said, “Prove you can enter.” Lenard put his glove together attaching the string to both gloves, then pulled them apart. Next, he stealthily flicked his wrists starting it on fire from palm to palm. Finally, he smothered the fire between his palms getting rid of the evidence.

The bouncer looked at Lenard then said, “Go enough. You may enter,” moving aside to let Lenard enter the bar. It was way different from the outside, for one thing, they weren't all human. No, surely they were just in cosplay or something. He could not tell why they were dressed up, but there had to be a reason right? As he walked to get a drink he saw people do bigger and fancier tricks than outside, which seemed impossible to pull off, and drinks look like they were made of fire.

As he got to the bar, he noticed that it was run by a lizard female. No, a lizard custom it had to be, but even that still sounded weird. 

“Uh, hi. Can I get a beer?” asked Lenard.

The lizard custom girl said, “Hu, you must be new here. We don't sell beer or other non-magical alcohol. It’s quite a point of pride here ‘only magical food and drink.’ So what will it be?”

Lenard sat there for a moment not knowing what to do or what's going on before finally saying, “What do you recommend?” 

“Dragons breath,” said the girl, “definitely. It's a lot cheaper here than in other places.”

“I’ll take that then,” said Lenard, then the girl moved to make the drink grabbing things that he has never seen before. He pulled out his wallets then cash, “So how much is it?”

The girl sighed, “We only take delses,” then added, “You know what it's on the house. Welcome to Phoenix Ash," after seeing the confused look on Lenard's face. Lenard wondered what that meant they were in Ohio. He took the glass and downed it. When the girl noticed she tried to stop him, “No wait it's a-” and was cut off by fire coming from Lenard's mouth, pushing him into a man in a demon custom.

The demon custom man spilled his drink on a guy in a troll custom and from there it spiraled into an all-out brawl. Punching, kicking, and... chanting? Causing the bouncer to enter the fray. Fire, ice, and beings appeared and disappeared. Somehow the people dressed with wings got to the ceiling. The girl behind the bar ducked down then the bouncer suddenly turned into a golem. Is this real? Are those not customs? Is this real magic? What am I doing here? This is possibly the worst mistake in my life, Lenard figured.

Then a human girl appeared from behind the bar. She snapped then everyone and everything froze. Drinks in the air, a wolf guy jumping on a guy, everything except Lenard, “Okay who started this, when I-” she started but was cut off by Lenard.

“Sorry, that was me,” said Lenard and instantly thought "why did I do anything", the girl just stared in awe at him. Then everything fell.

“Jack, Abigail get everyone out to Phoenix Ash and clean up,” said the girl, “Except you,” she said pointing to Lenard, “We need to talk.”

[glassbangtan]

Jungkook is Typing... {Jungkook x Reader}

Words: 21.1k

Summary: You and Jungkook met online when you were only fourteen years old. Neither of you thought meeting up would be a possibility, until you’re hired as Big Hit’s new editor. 

Genre: mild smut, angst, fluff. 

Warning: sexual scenes (but nothing graphic)

Notes: masterlist 

---

You and Jungkook met online.

   This is where most people roll their eyes, close the book and move on. It's this little pinprick of information that makes people turn a blind eye and assume the absolute worst.

   In truth, you never really blamed them for this mindset.

   You were only fourteen when you started getting into online gaming, and it wasn't like it was some massive deal at the time. Everyone was doing it; World of Warcraft, Dungeons and Dragons, Minecraft Online were all common topics of conversation amongst your year ten class, with people sharing server pins and usernames in a similar way to how they used to share sweets when the teacher wasn't looking. It was no surprise to you – or anyone else – when you asked your parents for a computer for Christmas, and quickly got hooked on the game Prisons of Terror.

    It was all you ever talked about, because – in truth – it was all you ever did. You got home from school, threw your bag on the floor and darted to your room. Some days, you didn't even bother saying hello to your mother in fear of someone logging onto the online server before you and getting all the weaponry you'd stashed away in an unlocked chest. You simply could not let that happen. Over one hundred and twenty five hours of hard work were not going to waste just so you could make idle chat with the woman who lived downstairs.

     Your parents never questioned it – as stated, this wasn't some new phenomenon, and you didn't have a problem. You were quite capable of logging out of the game when the server was quiet, and you only spoke about it when someone else was willing to engage in conversation. Other than that, most people saw you as a fairly capable, intelligent fourteen year old – normal.

     But this little passing fling with Prisons of Terror grew when GoldenJeon entered the server for the very first time. You remembered the date, remembered flicking your eyes up from your homework with the game still running in the background – hardly anyone was playing, so you'd decided to at least be a little bit productive as you waited for some of your other friends to come online. Never before had you seen GoldenJeon written across the bottom of the screen.

    You narrowed your eyes, leaned forward and quickly typed into the chat: Who are you?

    He didn't reply. You left it at that. He was probably just there to try it out, too nervous to speak to anyone until he found his footing in the game and was finally able to open up a little bit more.

  A few days later, he appeared again.

  You were quicker with your curiosity this time, barely letting his name disappear from the chat before you were repeating your previous question.

    GoldenJeon is typing...

   But then he stopped, and there was no response given.

  Maybe it was this constant game of back and forth that piqued your interest, that had you pondering over the person behind the strange username. His characters skin consisted of the gear of prisoners, which has always been a strange thing to pick when playing this game. Most people are drawn to the powerful looking players, the guards, the people with swords and crossbows slung across their backs – your own was a person in a guards uniform, your weapon consisting of two circular blades strapped to your shoulders.

  Your curiosity heightened to levels you could no longer control, and you opened up a new, private chat with GoldenJeon and started texting.

  Innocent questions at first; asking him who he was, how long he'd been playing the game, who the hell gave him the password for the server you were so familiar with at this point.

  And he texted back.

  He gave you answers, the conversation flowing so much easier than you'd ever expected it to. His silence in the beginning had unsettled you to the point where you'd ridiculously convinced yourself he didn't like you – even before he'd spoken to you. He was ignoring everything you said, so what else were you supposed to believe?

  But the two of you texted like best friends outside of the ring of the game you'd grown so addicted to. He sent emojis, and after a few months of constant back and forth, he started sending you little pictures of his dog and the doodles he did during class, and you granted him the same thing. You were never much of an artist, but you put a lot of effort into the drawings you sent him, and also put a lot of effort into making them look effortless, just like he did.

    GoldenJeon: got bored in class again. Teacher nearly caught me this time. {ATTACHED IMAGE}

   He was talented. There was no denying that. Even at fourteen, there wasn't a sense of jealousy that came with this acknowledgement, but a simple sense of pride. You often tilted the phone to your friend, Yul, and let him see the fresh, simplistic art work GoldenJeon had sent you that day, and Yul would hum and compliment him, and you'd sit there smugly as if to say yep, he's my friend.

   After a few weeks, GoldenJeon became somebody else. He became Jeon Jungkook, a student in Busan – miles away from where you lived, but close enough to startle you. Both of you lived in Korea – that had to count for something.

     The start of it all was a bumpy road, but looking down at your phone now, you can't help but grin at the realisation that it really was all worth it. Though you and Jungkook are yet to meet in person, not a day has gone by in the past four years where he hasn't sent you some bizarre song, or some scribbled doodle on the back of his notebook. Not a day has gone by where he hasn't sent you a good morning text and asked you how you are, what you've eaten, what your plans are for the day.

     He's your best friend, but telling people that earns you a few confused glances, so you tend to refrain as far from that conversation as humanly possible.

    Jungkook: I'm bored. Please cheer me up before I walk out and fail this entire class.

   Y/N: tough day?

   Jungkook: The worst day. I forgot we had a test.

  Y/N: what a Jungkook thing to do.

    Jungkook: Fuck off and cheer me up. I'm keeping you around for one thing and one thing only.

   Y/N: to cheer you up?

   Jungkook: Exactly.

   Challenge accepted. Standing in line at Starbucks, you shamelessly lift your phone high above your head and take a selfie, sticking your tongue out and throwing up the peace sign for added effect. You hit 'send' to Jungkook and stuff your phone back in your pocket, turning round to retrieve your coffee and head back to work.

    Jungkook goes to a weekend performance club in Seoul. This much you know, as you get updates from him on the daily about how his classes are going and how life is now that he's basically an independent man who can do whatever the hell he wants; as well as being a student, he's also a trainee.

    He told you about his dreams of becoming an idol on multiple occasions, but you'd heard it all before. Growing up, every single person in your class wanted to be an idol at some point; rising stars like Big Bang and EXO inspired the youth to strive to become as rich and famous as possible – but it always died away, and that's what you thought was going to happen with Jungkook.

    You really should have known better.

  He was only fifteen when he texted you saying he'd passed his audition. Confused, you'd asked him what he meant, only for him to send you a picture – “photo credit to my mum!” - of him standing in front of a sign with the words Big Hit plastered across it. You leaped out of your chair, squealing with happiness, immediately pressing 'CALL' to continue your freak out with him on the line; he'd started crying, you'd started crying, and that phone call will forever go down as the one that cost you the most money as it lasted for over four hours.

    He was still working hard. You got the updates. You comforted him when it all got too much. You helped each other out.

    Your phone chimes, signalling Jungkook's response.

   Jungkook: Okay good. I think I can push through now. Wish me luck. Love you loads and all that.

  You grin.

   Y/N: love you too. Don't kill anyone. Xx

   The conversation disappears and you are finally able to sink yourself back into reality – work.

   Whilst Jungkook is a thriving trainee, you're an intern at a publishing house. Whilst Jungkook spends his days singing and dancing, you spend your days going through unedited manuscripts and marking them up with red pen.

     Your boss, Mr Grey, is standing by your desk when you walk in, which is already the first bad sign of the morning. His arms are folded, his grey (yes, grey) moustache freshly waxed. You swallow back a laugh, giving him your best grin as you walk past him to your desk, pretending that his presence in your office is a normal, everyday occurrence.

   You already know you're in Big Trouble. Mr Grey never steps foot outside of his office unless someone is in Big Trouble.  

  “Are you sure you need that caffeine this morning?” is the first thing he asks, as it usually is. Mr Grey is on a health kick. Even though you know it's temporary and he's been through this with you a million different times before, he will still chastise you for any and all unhealthy lifestyle choices you make in his presence whilst he is trying to slim down.

  You take a small sip of your hot beverage, clap your lips together and say, “Definitely.” You set your folder down on your desk before turning to him fully. “How may I help you this morning, sir?”

   “I need to speak with you about an important matter,” he replies. You pause, waiting for him to elaborate, but his eyes have suddenly turned shifty and there is not a single hint in his posture to reveal whatever riddle he has just spoken.

  You look around cautiously, half expecting Soobin from the next office to jump out and spray you with Silly String, or perhaps throw a can of paint in your face. You honestly wouldn't put it past Mr Grey to want to poison you somehow.

  When nothing seems out of place, you turn back to your boss and say, “Okay. Do you want to sit down?” You gesture towards the seat he is stiffly standing behind, and he nods before slowly lowering himself onto the worn out cushion. You follow his lead, shuffling a few papers around because that's often all you need to do to look busy around here. You then intertwine your fingers over a thick folder and glance at him, waiting for him to usher the conversation along.

  He inhales and rubs a single finger along one of his bushy grey eyebrows. “There has been an opportunity given to me recently that I unfortunately cannot take for myself, so I've come here to ask if you would like to take the chance in my place.”

   He says it just like that. The previous silence, the drawn out dramatics just look stupid now, and you can't help but stare at him blankly as the words settle in. You haven't been there for very long, and you're still barely full-time. You're still considered an intern by most people, and still have a lot to learn – so why is he offering you something like this when there's hundreds of other worthy colleagues who would know what to do with this opportunity so much better than you?

  “Right,” you say slowly. “I'm gonna need a few more details, I think.”

  “It requires travel.”

  “I don't really think I can aff-”

  “All expenses will be paid by the agency. They'll organise a flat and transport when it's needed. They've been very generous with this offer, which is why I think it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

   Your heart is thumping. This is real. This is serious.

  “What is this offer?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady but failing miserably.

  “A well-known company is writing up a catalogue for future employees and they want an editor flown out to make corrections on hand if they need it.”

  You blink. “That's . . . Unheard of. Why don't they just send the manuscript out?”

  “Because that takes too long, and they don't have that amount of time,” Mr Grey explains. “Plus, they're already in partnership with another editing agency, but this agency doesn't have enough staff free at the moment to take on the job. That's why they came to me.”

  “So you'll be shipping me off to another editing agency? I'll become part of another team?” You raise your brows, slowly lean back in your chair. “You could have just sacked me, Mr Grey. It would have done the same thing.”

  Mr Grey rolls his eyes – he never has any time for comments like these. It's part of the reason you find it so difficult to find even ground with him. “You'll be coming back eventually. This is just a temporary job, a favour for a friend.”

  You sigh. “This is a lot to take in, sir.”

  “I understand,” he replies, before he starts standing up. “I'll give you time to think about it, and when you-”

   You launch yourself over the desk, grabbing his wrist and dragging him back into his seat before he can get much further. “Jesus, Mr Grey, slow down. I never said I wouldn't take the bloody offer.” You grab a pen from the Worlds Worst Drinker mug on the corner of your desk. “What do I sign and when do I leave?”

  ---

  The train station is bustling with people, but you had been expecting nothing different when you were told you'd be shipped off to Seoul.

  Seoul, South Korea. A place you'd once only dreamed about stepping foot in. As you'd grown older, the idea of visiting the capital became more and more intimidating, and you've since grown quite fond of your tiny little area. You'd heard the stories, seen the pictures of the crowded streets and the smoke that always fills the air, but hearing about these details and being amongst them are two very, very different experiences.

  You step off the train at long last, shoulder immediately shoved by a passer-by who is too busy looking down at his phone to notice you standing right in front of him. You frown, quickly pull your timetable out of your pocket and look down – you're meant to be meeting your colleague. According to the timetable, this mystery person was meant to pick you up in their car and drive you straight to the building you'd be working at – which, at this moment in time, you have not yet heard the name of.

  You look around for any sign of somebody professional looking – sadly, that seems to be the majority of Seoul. You're surprised to see that half of the people bustling around look like they're on their way to work, wearing nice suits or long coats that hide whatever professional gear they're wearing underneath.

  “Y/N L/N?”

  Your eyes shoot up, heartbeat thumping because you know, just from the sound of the unfamiliar voice, that things are finally starting. There is no backing out of this. You can't just turn around and get back on the train – you've taken the offer, and you're stuck.

  You turn on your heel, placing your professional grin on your face. Standing behind you is a fairly small man with a tiny black moustache, wearing an oversized grey hoodie and a beanie. Little black hairs trickle from the edge of his hat and poke him in the eyes, but he does nothing to shift them out the way.

  He certainly wasn't what you had been expecting. He's shorter than you by a few inches. He's wearing casual clothes, even on a Wednesday afternoon. He looks like any normal human being, even a little laid back.

  “Mr Son!” you exclaim. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Please, call me Sungdeuk,” he says. “I hope the train ride wasn't too bad? I know they can get a little crowded and uncomfortable.”

  As he speaks, he grabs for your suitcase and starts down the platform. You blink, ponder over whether or not to follow him before you're nearly tripping over your own feet trying to catch up.

  “Uh, yeah. It was a – uh – experience,” you reply. “I'm just glad I got here on time.”

  “I assume you know all about the kind of work you'll be doing?”

  “Mhm!”

  You cringe even as the noise leaves your lips, because in truth, you have absolutely no idea what it is you'll be doing. What little you've been told barely seems to cover the surface, and you're still carrying around many questions in which you know will need answered eventually – when you get to that point, you'll make sure to ask, but for now, it's safer to just pretend you're prepared.

   You and Sungdeuk make your way into a large Range Rover that is parked outside the station. Sungdeuk gets in the front seat whilst you clamber into the back, and immediately a cold bottle of water is passed to you over the back of Sungdeuk's seat.

  “Kept chilled, just for you,” he says, winking in the rear view mirror.

  You smile and grab for the drink, but your stomach is reeling with nerves and you know for a fact you won't be able to keep anything down, liquid or not. And so, you mess with the lid, curling your fingers around it until the clasp bites into your palm, until the condensation is sinking into your jeans and making the leather seats damp.

  Neither of you speak for the majority of the drive, and Sungdeuk seems perfectly fine with that. He barely even glances at you, too busy leaning his head against the headrest with his eyes closed, like he's living in his own fantasy world. Even the driver is perfectly content with the silence, but it itches at your skin. You should be talking. You want your first impression to be chipper, friendly, curious. You want your new boss to think you're actually interested in whatever it is you've been signed up for.

  Cautiously, you lean forward and poke your head between the passenger and driver seat. “Uh, hi.”

  Sungdeuk creaks open one eye. “You alright?”

  “I was just – uh – I have a question.” You may as well slip a question in now.

  Sungdeuk turns to look at you. “Go ahead. I thought you were told everything.”

  “I was told most things,” you lie. “Except for – you know – who I'll actually be working for.”

  Sungdeuk stares at you, waiting for the non-existent punch line. You suddenly want to curl up in a ball, perhaps throw yourself out the window.

  He purses his lips when you stay silent, features completely straight. “You don't know who you're working for?”

  “I'm sure it was in the contract,” you hasten to say. “I might have just missed it. You know what, sorry for bothering you.” You wave a dismissive hand, already leaning back in your seat and pretending you didn't even speak up in the first place. “You carry on doing what you're doing, and I'll just sit back here and-”

   “We're here anyway,” he says, grinning at your sudden flustered state. You don't even have a chance to be embarrassed, as you lurch forward and look out the window, just as the massive gates open into the car park behind a large grey building. Lights are on in almost every single room, and there's a sign on the door that reads, in big, bold letters:

  BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT.

  And you want to scream.

  There's no way. There's absolutely no way this is real life. You've decided. You've come to the conclusion that maybe you hit your head on the train and now you're actually dreaming this entire thing. You're in a coma somewhere. A doctor is poking at you this very minute, but you won't wake up because-

  “Y/N?”

  Your eyes snap up. “Hm?”

  “We going in?”

  You swallow thickly and gather your wits, trying to calm the race of your heartbeat. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket – you want to text Jungkook so bad, because you can already guess his reaction. He's going to be mortified. The safe little friendship the two of you have is going to be destroyed as soon as he sees you walk in them doors, because he can no longer hide behind the distance that was always such a comfort blanket between the two of you. Sure, it was a pain in the ass sometimes. Sometimes Jungkook would just go on huge rants about wanting to cuddle you because he couldn't sleep, and its them moments where the distance can honestly just fuck off – but at the same time, you have a pimple growing on your forehead that Jungkook would never be able to see.

  Not until now.

  Nonetheless, you know you can't just set up camp in the back of the Range Rover, so you gather your bags and follow Sungdeuk into the lobby of the building. He's chatting away, giving you a brief tour of the area you can see, but you're not even paying attention.

  On the wall, the posters glare at you.

  “Who is Bangtan Sonyeondan?” you ask, not even realising you're cutting the man off.

  He lowers his hand and follows your gaze to the poster you're currently inspecting; it consists of seven men, all of whom you recognise because Jungkook idolises each and every one. He texts you about their daily runnings almost every single day, and you find it kind of strange that you know Namjoon's favourite cereal to have in the morning, as well as the fact that Seokjin shrunk his favourite pink socks the other day.

  But it's Jungkook who your focus is trained upon, because you recognise him immediately. The brown hair, the dumpling cheeks and the baggy clothes. He's staring into the camera with such a serious look on his face, and half of you wants to burst into a fit of giggles whilst the other half of you wants to burst into flames.

  “They're the group,” Sungdeuk says.

  You raise a brow. “The group?”

  “The only group Big Hit is representing at the minute,” he confirms. “They've been together for a few years now. I'm surprised you haven't heard of them.”

   You swallow. You have heard of them – probably on a much deeper level than Sungdeuk can even begin to comprehend.

  He moves on with the tour, leading you through winding hallways, explaining each and every detail as he does so. You meet a few people on the way past; a few producers, a few choreographers, a few people who are messing with broken cameras and lights. The building just seems to get more and more complex the longer you walk, and it isn't long until Sungdeuk is leading you directly to the training room.

  Thankfully, it's empty for now.

  “And this is my place,” he says, stretching his arms out. The room is only small, but it's brightly lit and there's a glowing neon sign in the corner that reads BTS. Beneath it are a pair of shoes that look as if they had been discarded not long ago; with your limited knowledge of fashion, you're able to identify them as Balenciagas.

  “This is where the boys come to learn their choreographies and practice some of their old stuff,” Sungdeuk continues to explain. “I sent them on their break so I could come and get you.”

   You smile warily. “So what is it you actually do around here?”

  “I'm the production manager,” he replies. “But I'm also the lead choreographer. I come up with the dances, teach them to the boys and send them on their way. They're quite independent that way – they don't need me holding their hand through everything.”

  You chuckle. “I heard Hoseok does a lot of the training. He tends to just take over.”

  Sungdeuk laughs. “Yeah, he's a really good-” He freezes. You glance at him over your shoulder. His eyes are narrowed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Wait. How do you know about Hoseok?”

   Aaaaaand, you've already fucked up.

  Your brain runs at a million miles per hour, because there's a legible answer there somewhere. You can lie. You can come up with something – anything -  but god, your hands are now sweaty and he's staring at you with his head tilted and he probably thinks you're such a crazed stalker.

  You open your mouth to reply, to say anything, but the words are cut off by the sound of booming laughter and the door opening. It squeaks, and you make a mental note to bring some WD40 with you next time you're here.

  But until then, you have to calm down, because Jungkook is there and he's taller than you imagined, and he's captured your eye already meaning there's absolutely no getting out of this mess.

  Sungdeuk greets the other boys – all six of them, fuck sake – but Jungkook stays rooted to the floor. In his hand is a coffee. In his other hand is a water. He's wearing a bandanna and an oversized hoodie, and it takes everything in you not to melt into the floorboards right here and now.

  “Everyone, meet Y/N L/N,” Sungdeuk announces, one arm wrapped around Namjoon's waist, the other pushed towards you. “They're the new editor for the Big Hit catalogue.”

  “Ay, you found someone!” Taehyung exclaims, walking towards you with those long, intimidating legs that are neatly covered by a pair of striped trousers. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you tight against him. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Taehyung.”

  “Nice to meet you,” you mumble.

  “Awk look; they're already nervous,” Seokjin teases, peeling his jacket off his very, very broad shoulders.

  “Don't worry. We don't mind a few typos,” Yoongi chimes in.

  You try to laugh, but it sounds forced and honestly not worth the effort. Even the boys seem to notice the dry, false side to the giggle as they all turn to look at you, a crowd of raised eyebrows turning to look at you all at once – but again, you can't take your eyes off of Jungkook for even a second.

  This is the person you've been talking to since you were fourteen. This is the person who calls you in the middle of the night because he doesn't know what to get from the fridge. This is the person who sends you countless videos on Snapchat of him trying to figure out how to fit the sheet back on his bed in the morning, most of which end with him saying, “Seokjin will do it.”

  He's standing in front of you, and he's real, and you're still not entirely convinced you're not dreaming.

  Until he speaks.

  “D-don't be nervous,” he says. “You'll do a great job. I know you will.”

  Oh yeah. You're definitely going to melt into the floorboards at any given moment.

  ---

  “I can't believe this-”

  “I swear to god I didn't know it was Big Hit I was gonna be working for.”

   “You're here. How are you here?”

  “I took a train, Jungkook. A train! Do you know how terrified I am of fast moving vehicles?”

  Jungkook closes his eyes, tilts his head back against the wall you've accidentally pushed him against in your panic. You aren't even sure how you've done it, but in your hectic panic, you've ended up basically shoving him against the wall as soon as the two of you are away from the large group of excited, older men.

  You take a step back and awkwardly rub the back of your neck. “Look, I'm being serious. I didn't even know what company had hired me until Sungdeuk pulled up outside the Big Hit building. I wasn't searching for you or anything.”

  Jungkook cracks an eye open. “You know I'm not even meant to be in contact with you.”

  This draws you up short. “What?”

  “After I joined Big Hit to be a trainee, they made me sign this massive contract thing. It said I had to cut all ties with certain people, and I signed it and said I would.” He bites his lip and looks away, as if confessing to his crimes makes him somehow not worthy to look into your eyes. “And then I texted you the same day about going online for a few hours.”

  Your chest hurts. Physically aches. “You were meant to cut ties with me?”

  “I didn't take it seriously!” he hisses, tugging at his hair. “I was fifteen, for gods sake. It wasn't until Hoseok started telling me all the things he had to do to make up his contract that I started realising I should probably be – you know – paying attention, too, but I liked texting you. It became kind of routine, so I never stopped.”

   You hollow out your cheeks. Not even a full day into business and already Jeon Jungkook is overwhelming you; you're not even surprised.

  “Okay, so we just don't tell anyone that we know each other,” you say, as if the two of you haven't already put suspicion in people's heads by basically handling each other with bubble wrap the entire afternoon.

  “But I was gonna – I was gonna ask if you wanted to go get dinner tonight,” he says. You raise a brow. He rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “As friends, you sleez.”

  “Okay, okay, I was kidding,” you chuckle. “We can still go to dinner, Jungkook. You can just tell the guys you're going somewhere else, and then we'll meet up. Although, I don't really know my way around Seoul just yet so...”

  “Do you know where you're staying?” he asks.

  You pull a piece of paper from your back pocket and shove it in his hands; written in almost unintelligible handwriting is your new, temporary address. Jungkook's eyes light up when he reads it.

  “Hey, that's not far from the dorms!” he says. “I can come and pick you up if that makes it easier. Then we can finally . . . you know . . . discuss what's going on here.”

  The way he says it makes your spine tingle, like being friends is some kind of scandal. Apparently it kind of is, considering Jungkook was meant to cut all ties with you over three years ago and just casually decided not to, as if it was no big deal. Part of you wants to be flattered by it. The other part of you wants to slap him up side the head for thinking his friendship with you was more important than living his dreams.

  “How long are you staying?” he asks, voice suddenly quiet.

  “However long it takes for the catalogue to be made,” you reply, before awkwardly stepping forward. “Jungkook, I just want you to know that I'm not here for a holiday. I have work to do.”

  Jungkook's head snaps up, eyes alert. “What? Of course. I know that. I was just – I mean, we've been friends for a long time, Y/N. I think it's about time I take you for dinner.” He raises a brow. “Unless you think this is weird. 'Cause we can always just go back to texting and sending each other stupid videos.”

  You chuckle, glancing down at the floor where your toes are very nearly hitting against his. You don't step back, simply kick a rock up onto his shoe which he kicks back onto yours almost immediately. “No. I think this is good. It's like fate, isn't it? Even the universe can't keep us apart kind of thing.”

  Jungkook scoffs. “Is this another one of them astrology things you always send to me?”

  You roll your eyes, nudging Jungkook with your elbow. “I was trying to be sweet, you idiot.”

  “You don't need to be sweet. I've seen you make a fake Instagram account to get a look at your ex-boyfriend's new page.”

  “I was fifteen-”

  He starts walking back towards the building. “I've seen it.”

  “Jungkook, I swear to-”

  “I've seen it, Y/N!”

  ---

  You shouldn't feel nervous, but you do.

  As you look at yourself in the mirror and try desperately to fix your travel-hair, you remind yourself that this is Jungkook. GoldenJeon. The boy you've known for years, the boy who knows you better than any of your real life friends do. There will be no awkward silences, because there is so much to talk about. There will be no flustered glances, because there is no reason to be flustered. There will be absolutely no tension during this dinner, because you and Jungkook have been friends for years. Just because he is now a physical form changes nothing.

  These are the rules you set out for yourself as you slip on your shoes and head for the door of your new apartment. It's small, one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a sofa. There's a generously sized television hung up on the far wall, and a picture of a house plant hung beside it; you're half tempted to take it down and replace it with a family picture, but something about that makes this place seem a little too permanent. You don't want to be getting attached when you know full well you'll be heading home in a matter of months.

  Jungkook texts you to tell you he's outside at exactly seven pm. He's on time, something you weren't expecting considering he has a habit of being late to almost every single meeting he's invited to – he tells you these things on a daily basis, claiming he slept in or he forgot, or he got too caught up in his games.

  But he's not lying. You step outside into the chilly night air of Seoul and are greeted by the sight of his warm smile and fluffy brown hair. He's wearing an oversized coat, his hands tucked into the pockets, his shoulders bunched around his ears. When he sees you exit through the front door, he picks up his pace to a penguin-like jog before jumping in front of you and bundling you into a hug you most definitely were not expecting.

  “Do you see how early I am?” he asks. You can feel his lips moving against the crown of your head, and your face heats up.

  “You're on time,” you correct. “And apparently in a very good mood.”

 He pulls away, holds you at arms length. His brown eyes look so light beneath the yellow glow of the street lamps. It's a doe-like look, and it makes your spine tingle when it's trained on you.

  “Of course I'm in a good mood,” he says. “I've already picked out the restaurant we're going to. It's called Frapuls.”

  You raise a brow, letting Jungkook slip his hand into your own as he starts to lead you down the pavement. “Frapuls? I don't think I've ever heard of that before.”

  “It's good. All sorts of food – burgers, kimchi, stir-fry – anything you want, they have it.” He looks over his shoulder. “I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked, so I just picked the one that had the most options.”

   You smile. “Frapuls sounds perfect.”

  The restaurant itself is small, sparcely populated. Part of you thinks Jungkook's decision to eat here had more to do with the fact that it isn't busy than because he was unsure of your food preferences – nonetheless, you're not complaining. Jungkook leads you into the tiny restaurant, mutters something to the man at the front desk before the two of you are led towards a table on the far side of the restaurant.

  It's dimly lit, tiny little lanterns placed all around the room being the only source of light. It makes Jungkook's eyes a little darker, making you want to rip his bucket hat off his head just so you can be given better access to the doe-like brown eyes you had seen earlier on. However, when Jungkook looks at you from across the table, there is no more wondering; you can see his eyes perfectly fine, bright and round and questioning. He looks so curious, tracing your features, trying to figure you out – you can see it in his expression. He has questions, so many questions, but he says none of them until you cough and meet his gaze.

  “You can ask me anything you want.” It's a bold statement, but you mean it.

  Jungkook pulls back, spreading his fingers across his untouched menu. He licks his bottom lip and sighs. “There's just so many things that don't make sense.”

  “Like?”

  “Like how you're here. How I didn't know you were going to be here. How we managed to meet up after years of just texting online, and it wasn't even planned.” He shakes his head. “People in our situation literally go through hell to see each other, and it just fell into our laps.”

  You bite your lip. “Would you say it's luck?”

  “I don't really believe in luck.” Jungkook leans forward, folding his arms in front of him. “But I can't really put my finger on what else it could be.”

  “A coincidence,” you suggest. “I mean, it's insane that the people from Big Hit decided to choose the publishing agency I work for to edit their catalogue. It's insane that my boss decided I'd be a good replacement for him.”

  Jungkook raises a brow. “It's not insane. You're brilliant at what you do. I've been subject to plenty of late night distressed phone calls to be able to vouch for that.”

   You scoff. “You of all people are not allowed to talk about late night distressed phone calls. I think I received at least one a week from you – I marked them on my calender.”

   “I'm not that bad!”

  “You definitely are. I have the receipts-”

  Jungkook's hand snaps out and curls around your wrist before you can grab your phone.

  “Alright, I believe you,” he says. “But that's not the point.”

  You grin, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Look, maybe it's better if we don't question why we were lucky enough for this to happen. Neither of us know how long we've got together, so we might as well focus our attention on other things.”

   Jungkook nods, looking down at his menu. “I agree. For example, you never told me how short you are.”

  You very nearly choke on the air you're breathing.

  Your eyes snap open, darting across the table to where Jungkook is now grinning down at his menu, pretending like this conversation starter is oh-so-normal, and not at all totally ludicrous.

  “I'm average!” you argue. “It's not my fault you're a complete skyscraper of a human being.”

  Jungkook raises a brow, still yet to look up from his menu. “I'm not even that tall. You're just taking the piss.”

  “Is this your way of charming me?”

  “I didn't know you wanted me to charm you in the first place.”

  You grit your teeth, shifting your eyes back to your menu.

  Jungkook, however, is on a roll. “Did you notice that I could put my chin on your head when I hugged you earlier? Is that not adorable?”

  “I'm average,” you repeat.

  “You're small. The sooner you realise it, the better. Then I can give you more chin-to-head hugs.”

  It sounds promising. That single hug outside your apartment had been enough to fill you with so many butterflies that you were convinced you would float off like a balloon pumped with helium. His arms had been warm. You had convinced yourself that he'd hidden hot packs in the front of his coat, because nobody's chest could be that warm and welcoming in two degree weather. He'd even gone as far as to press his lips into the crown of your head, and you remember that vividly, because it was that very movement that-

  “Can I take your order?”

  You look up, cheeks heating up with the realisation that you had just completely zoned out, remembering Jungkook hugging you. Looking over, you can see Jungkook staring at you, his cheeks a vivid red colour and his eyebrows furrowed. You bite your lip, looking back up at the smiling waitress who is waiting patiently at your table with a notebook in her hands.

  You order the pasta carbonara and a water, whilst Jungkook orders the steak and rice with an iced Coke to go along with it. The two of you don't mention the lack of alcohol – you don't trust yourself to get drunk in front of him yet, and if your thoughts are anything to go by, you need to keep your brain in check tonight.

   Jungkook's look of confusion does not leave his face throughout the meal, even as the conversation develops a life of its own. The two of you bicker like an old married couple, Jungkook complaining about the amount of times he has to revive your character in Overwatch and you complaining that you always have to give him extra supplies in Minecraft, even though you've totally, one hundred percent outgrown Minecraft and only play it because Jungkook still likes it, and his character would definitely die if you were not there to make sure he keeps his inventory full.

  You're not even surprised with how easy the conversation flows; it's like your texting, but with your mouths. The banter, the teasing, the sly jabs that are always so present in your text conversations do not take the back seat even when you are in front of each other – the only difference now is that you can see his expressions, can hear his laughter, can hear his scoffs of disbelief, and it makes your insides melt with each and every thing he says.

  It's so much better than texting. It's so much better than patchy Skype calls. It's so much better than you could have ever imagined.

  You speak for hours even after your meal has finished. You place your napkin over your empty meal, place your bag in your lap but neither of you move from the table; you just keep talking, shifting into a debate on whether Billie Eilish or Justin Bieber have the best new song out – Jungkook admits that he's taken a liking to Billie Eilish, but hastens to insist that Justin Bieber is, and forever will be, his ride-or-die.

  You only leave the restaurant when the shy waitress glides over to you and tells you that the table you've been over-occupying for hours is needed. Jungkook has paid for the entire meal (plus a tip) before you even have a chance to find your purse.

  You shoot him a glare once the two of you are finally outside again, subject to the cold winter air and the surprisingly busy streets of Seoul – back in your home town, the streets were basically empty at this time, but Seoul is different. Seoul is always alive, always bustling with people and chatter and entertainment. Even at this time of night, there are buskers seated on the pavement and dancers twirling through the streets, lights on in every household. It vibrates with an energy you've never known before, and it sends a ripple of excitement coursing through you.

  Jungkook ignores your glare and continues walking, a dull smile playing on his features that you find difficult to miss.

  “I don't wanna go back to the dorms yet,” he says without turning to look at you. You are forced to pick up your pace just to catch up with him, and when you do, you latch onto his arm so you don't lose him amongst the ever-thickening crowd. If it bothers him, he says nothing.

  “What else can we do?” you ask. “It's getting late.”

  “So?”

  “So all the shops are closed.”

  Jungkook raises a brow, glancing down at you as if your logic is extremely flawed. “Again, so?”

  “Jungkook, we can't just-”

  “Watch this.” He shrugs out of your grip and marches towards a nearby busker before you have a chance to even register what he is doing. You pause in the middle of the street, pulling your coat tighter to your body and watching as Jungkook and the young man with the guitar talk in hushed tones. The busker's eyes eventually light up and he shakes Jungkook's hand before the song he was previously playing is forgotten and replaced by a soft, melodic tone that you've never heard before.

  When Jungkook turns back around to face the crowd, he looks nervous. You immediately know what he's going to do, and your heart races at the idea of it; you've heard him sing before. Some mornings he'll call you just so you can keep him company as he goes through his daily routine, and you sit back and listen to him hum as he brushes his teeth, belts out solos as he picks out his outfit for the day. You've heard him sing, but never like this, and you aren't sure why the idea of it excites you so much.

  He doesn't bother with an introduction to the song. He just looks at you once, closes his eyes and starts singing, and suddenly the rest of the crowd no longer exists.

  The little girl crying over her fallen ice cream no longer exists. The bickering couple beside you no longer exists. The dog barking in impatience no longer exists, and the only sound you can hear is Jungkook's soft voice flittering through the busy crowd, meeting your ears as if he's singing for you and only you.

  The lights bring it all together. They shine behind him, illuminating the gold streaks in his hair, the outline of his jaw that has absolutely no right to be as sharp as it is. His body sways back and forth, and even though he's wearing the worlds biggest coat, zipped right up to his chin, you can still imagine his Adams apple bobbing every time he stops for a breath.

  This is Jungkook in his natural element. This is where he's meant to be, where he worked so hard to be. For years, the both of you had always joked that he was a video game obsessive, that he was most comfortable in front of the computer, or PlayStation, or xBox just losing himself in a world that wasn't this one – but now you feel ridiculous even pondering over such a crazy idea. This is where he belongs.

  Your throat closes over as the song does. Jungkook's voice fades away, and the eruption of cheers brings you back down to Earth. Everyone fizzles back into place, and you're suddenly overwhelmed with the unexplainable urge to break down into tears.

  Jungkook's eyes meet your own almost as soon as he opens them. You grin brightly, clapping along with the crowd and he blushes before he turns, thanks the busker and makes his way over to you. Almost as soon as he is in front of you, he takes your hands in his and pulls you close.

  “You look freezing. I should have kept us moving.”

  “What song was that?” you ask, pulling away to look up at him.

  He frowns. “You liked it?”

  “I loved it,” you reply. “What song was it?”

  “It's called Promise. My friend Jimin wrote it.”

  “It was beautiful,” you say before you can stop yourself. Jungkook's blush grows more prominent, looking down to the floor in his attempts to hide it, but you can see right through it. You grin, place a hand on his neck and say, “I'd like to hear you sing some more.”

   His eyes meet your own. For a moment, you think you've gone too far. His brows are furrowed, and he's silent for a moment longer than you're comfortable with, but he eventually grins and nods. “Of course.”

  ---

  The first day of work is a hectic one.

  The first few pages of the catalogue arrive on your doorstep at seven am sharp, followed shortly by a frantic phone call from Mr Bang Shi Hyuk, who you met a week ago and have still yet to hear talk in a normal tone. He's always busy, always bustling round his office, and you're certain you've never gotten through a phone call  without him having to put you on hold to scold someone. This morning, his frantic call has an undertone of desperation to it as he asks you to get the freshly edited pages back to him by five pm – definitely not an impossible goal, but you know you won't be taking any breaks today.

  And so, you set up camp at your kitchen table and get to work as soon as the coffee kicks in. Bundled in your fluffy dressing gown and a pair of slippers, you sip idly on different beverages, red pen in hand, glasses perched on the end of your nose. You order some food from a nearby delivery place, dig into it with one hand whilst the other continues to glide across the pages, correcting typos and sentences until everything sounds smooth.

  You reach an area of the catalogue that describes Bangtan Sonyeondan, and put it to the side for later. You don't want to think about Jungkook right now – well, you do, but it probably won't be for the best. Any time you see something that reminds you of him, you want to stop, snap a picture of it and send it to him via your stupid little Whatsapp group – that is time wasted, and you can't afford it right now.

  Seven am turns into four pm, turns into five pm, and you're stuffing the catalogue pages into the return envelope at the same time you're pulling your jacket on over your shoulders and sprinting out the door. You don't bother saying hello to the friendly door lady at the reception desk. You don't bother to check both ways before sprinting out the door and barrelling up the street towards the Big Hit building. The only thing you can focus on is the time slowly trickling away, and by the time you've crashed into the lobby of the Big Hit building, the time reads 5:01pm and you're already planning out your new CV in your head.

  You groan, sprinting up to the front desk and slapping the envelope onto it. “Here. It's here. I wasn't late. I was just -” You pant, trailing your fingers over your rain soaked hair. “Please tell Mr Bang the pages are finished.”

  The lady at the desk eyes the envelope and raises her brows, before slowly reaching forward and slipping it into the delivery bin beside her. “Thank you, Y/N. I'll email him now.”

  “Like, right now?” you push. You stand on your tip toes and try to see over the desk. “Can I see what you write? Please tell him I was on time, I was just-”

   Hands gently grip your elbow, startling you. Jungkook is grinning down at the receptionist as he pushes you away from the desk. “Don't mind us, Gertrude. We're leaving now.”

  You shrug out of his grip, spinning around when he pushes you into a nearby hallway and closes the door. He turns back to you, raising a brow that holds so many questions, but your only concern at the minute is whether or not Bang Shi Hyuk is going to receive those pages on time.

  You try to look over his shoulder. “Do you think he'll be mad at me?”

  “You weren't even late,” Jungkook replies.

  You pull your sleeve up and shove your watch in his face. “Can you see that? Five. Oh. One. He wanted them back by five, but I lost track and-”

  Jungkook reaches up and tugs on your bottom lip. The action is so unexpected that you don't even continue speaking once his hand drops back to his side – you just watch his arm swing, eyes slowly narrowing.

  “What did you just do?”

  “Tried to calm you down,” he replies. “Or shut you up. Whichever way you wanna look at it.”

  You frown, shifting your eyes to his. “I think I'm delirious. I've been sat at my kitchen table since seven this morning.”

   “So I thought,” he says. “You weren't answering my texts, or my single phone call that I so kindly wasted my lunch break to make.”

   You wince. “Sorry. I was busy.”

  He waves a dismissive hand, but the guilt is still there; Jungkook always makes time for you, no matter how busy his life gets, and you can guarantee that his schedule is a lot busier than yours on days like this. You can see it in the way the sweat clings to his baggy black shirt, the way the ends of his hair are damp.

  “Did you eat anything good today?” he asks.

  “I had some Chinese takeout.”

  “Gross. That's not good at all.”

   “It was good.” You pat your stomach for added affect. “I had fried rice, chips, egg noodles – the whole damn heap. Ate it straight out of the bag, too.”

  Jungkook crinkles his nose, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen. “I swear to god, I'm going to have to keep an eye on you 24/7. You're gonna end up giving yourself a heart attack.”

  “I was stress eating,” you say. “I was burning the calories by stressing. It's like I haven't even eaten.”

   Jungkook rolls his eyes, loops his arm through yours and starts down the hallway. You follow him, a new-found skip in your step that it seems only Jungkook can rattle into your system.

  He leads you right to the training room, where the rest of Bangtan are busy doing absolutely nothing. They lounge around, some of them laying on the floor, others sitting on spinny chairs that have absolutely no reason to be there. Namjoon is leaned against the wall; if you weren't careful enough, you'd mistake him for a house lamp.

  “Look who arrived,” Jungkook announces, shoving you into the room. The other boys chorus out a “Hi Y/N,” before going back to their exhausted scrollings of social media. “One minute late.”

  Jimin fake gasps. “Fired!”

  “Don't even joke,” you grunt, slumping down next to Taehyung on the floor. He leans over and shows you his phone screen, and you immediately take over his game of Angry Birds. He lets his head drop back to the floor and his eyes promptly close, as if he had just been waiting for someone to take over his game so he could go to sleep.

  “Hard day?” Namjoon asks.

  You shrug. “Stressful day.”

  “But at least you made it. Did you edit the pages Mr Bang sent you?” Seokjin asks.

  “Barely,” you reply, and Jungkook scoffs, kicking your foot.

  “You're being too hard on yourself. One minute late isn't a big deal – Mr Bang probably won't even get to reading them before he goes home tonight.”

  “So why did the little bastard make me run down here to get them to him by five?” You raise a brow at Jungkook. “Answer me that, Oh Great One.”

  “Because.” Jungkook sits down beside you, crossing his legs. “Having a deadline looks more professional than just telling you to get them in by the end of the day.”

  “Can someone tell him that I don't care about professional?”

  Seokjin sighs. “I've been trying to tell him that for years, Y/N. So far, no luck.”

  You groan, the sound mingling with the angry chipper of a bird who has just failed to knock down a house full of tiny green piglets.

  “It's done now, anyway,” Hoseok chimes in. He's barefoot again, his Balenciagas thrown carelessly to the side. “I say you celebrate.”

  “Mm. I could always order more Chinese food-”

  “Nope!” Jungkook exclaims. “Nope, nope, no. No more Chinese food.”

  You frown. “Who made you the devil incarnate this evening?”

  “You're gonna make yourself sick,” he says. “Celebrate some other way.”

  “I wish we could join you, but I'm exhausted,” says Yoongi.

  You wave a dismissive hand. “Don't worry. I am too, buddy. I'll probably just go home and get an early night.” You shoot Jungkook a glance. “Play a bit of Minecraft.”

  His eyes light up, a tiny smile twitching on his face that he tries to hide by ducking his head down and messing idly with the drawstrings of your grey sweatpants; you didn't even realise you were wearing them. You were too busy trying to leave the house to actually pay attention to your appearance.

  “Sounds like a night made for an elderly person,” says Jimin. “Right up your alley.”

  You throw Hoseok's Balenciaga at him.

  ---

  GoldenJeon is active, and you're ready to absolutely destroy him.

  Gathering snacks and a drink of water (healthy), you settle by your laptop and start playing. The two of you agreed to meet up on a server called The Hunger Games, in which the players are put against each other until there is only one remaining player – for years, you and Jungkook have squabbled over this game, making it much more dramatic than it needs to be, but it's all for the right reasons. Jungkook will call you in the middle of the game, speaking through gritted teeth, warning you not to jump out at him because he knows you're prowling around the corner, just waiting for him to drop his guard. Neither of you even pay attention to the other players; if another player kills you, Jungkook kills them. It's how it works. You're Jungkook's only goal, and he is yours.

  Jungkook calls you after the ten minute mark. Whilst he speaks through clenched teeth, you speak through a mouthful of marshmallow.

  “Just tell me where you are, you piece of shit,” he demands.

  “Ask me nicely.” On your screen, his tiny block player is busy scrambling through some chests. It would be so easy to sneak up on him, stab him whilst he's too busy looting for gear, but you stay back.

  “Y/N, I swear to god, you're giving me anxiety,” he replies. “Just tell me where you are. I promise I won't kill you.”

  “Aren't you sweet.”

  “So?”

 “I'm not telling you where I am.” You equip your player with your new weapon. “But I just want you to know that I've just found a diamond sword with full strength still on it, so I'd watch out.”

  Jungkook groans. “I hate you. I hate this game. I hate that you're so good at this fucking game.”

  “You spend too much time worrying,” you say. “As soon as the map loads, you're trying to get away from me. Why don't you actually try and figure out where I'm going before you run off in the other direction?”

  “Because if I stay close to you, you'll kill me!”

   “That's the point!”

  Jungkook groans again, and you can imagine him tugging on the blanket he always has wrapped round his shoulders when he's on his laptop. “You need to cut me some slack.”

  “You've been looting plenty of chests recently, Mr JK. It'll be easy for you to just find me and kill me.”

   Jungkook pauses. “How did you know I was looting chests?”

  You grin. “A hunch?”

  “You son of a bitch.” His character spins around and looks directly at you. You let out a squeak of surprise at the same time Jungkook gasps, but you don't give him mercy. You dive out of your hiding place and slam the space button so many times your finger starts to hurt from the pressure; your character bashes Jungkook's character with their fancy new diamond sword until eventually the words GoldenJeon has left the server appear on the bottom of the screen.

  “Y/N!” he cries out. “You didn't even-”

  “I won, is what I did,” you holler, throwing your arms in the air, doing a little dance on your mattress. “I won again, I won again, I won again.” You put your hands back to the keyboard. “Another game before we go to sleep?”

  “No, you know what?” He sounds stern, and you're no longer sure whether to continue the teasing. “No. This is totally unfair. I'm on my way over.”

   You freeze, not sure whether you heard him right. “You're what, sorry?”

  You can already hear him shuffling around on the other side of the phone, probably grabbing his coat, or maybe a baseball bat. “I'm coming over. Get the kettle on, by the way. I have to walk, and it's fucking freezing.”

  “Jungkook, it's twelve am,” you hiss. “Stay where you are or so help me-”

  “See you in five minutes, you little traitor!” And then he hangs up, leaving you in a sudden state of panic.

  Whatever triumph you'd felt at winning the game has melted away and been replaced by an immediate sense of urgency. You jump out of bed, blankets flying left, right and centre. You don't bother going for your wardrobe – Jungkook has seen you in your pyjamas plenty of times before (thank you, Skype). Instead, you head directly for the kitchen, slapping the kettle on on your way past before you busy yourself with tidying up the mess you'd made this afternoon. Broken pens and pencils scatter the table; old takeout boxes litter the counter; your washing up basket is filled to the brim. You quickly toss a pair of underwear under the fridge and hope to God Jungkook doesn't decide to go snooping.

  You've barely emptied the bin before the door to your apartment is opening and Jungkook is suddenly there, in all of his fucking glory, with the most hard expression you've ever seen. You swivel up, drop the bag and say, “If you're here to kill me, I want you to know that it was all fun.” You pause. “But I still beat your ass in that game.”

  Jungkook rolls his eyes, and before you can process what is going on, he's crossed the threshold of your living room and is standing right in front of you. He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into him, startling you enough for a squeak to escape your throat.

  Jungkook leans down, his lips so close to your ear, your throat, the hinge of your jaw and suddenly you want to drag him into you and lose yourself in that warmth you were lusting over only a few weeks prior.

  “I've never been able to do this before,” he says, voice gruff.

  “D-do what? Kill me?”

  He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, and Jesus take the wheel, you've had it.

  “I've never been able to just come over to your house when I want to.” If it's possible, his voice is even lower. “Never been able to call you a son of a bitch to your face, because you should have told me where you were.” He nips your collar bone. If the world wasn't spinning fast enough already, it sure is now.

  You grip the counter behind you, breathing heavy. You want to continue the teasing, to make light of this situation, but your head is running at a thousand miles per hour and holy fuck is this really GoldenJeon holding you like this?

  “Jungkook, what are you doing?” you ask, breathless.

  He stops, detaching his teeth from your throat but he doesn't move away. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No!” You're eager, and that much is clear in your words. “No, please don't. I just want to know why.”

  “As I said,” he says, leaning down to bare his teeth against your flesh again, “I've never been able to do this before.”

  “I didn't know you wanted to.”

  “Then you're very, very oblivious.”

  “Not as oblivious as you. That's probably why I was able to kill you fifteen minutes into the first match.”

  He growls. His hand snaps down and grabs the back of your thigh, hitching your leg onto his hip. You squeal, tossing your head back just as he lifts you up and props you up on the counter. You bang your head against the cupboard. Jungkook pulls back, eyes wide with that concern you know so well, but you don't let him spoil the moment. You grab onto the back of his neck and drag him forward, slamming your lips against his before you lose your god damn mind.

  Because that's what it feels like. All of this is so sudden, so unexplainable and strange, but you're going to be driven absolutely insane if it doesn't continue. Your stomach clenches. You swallow his breathy pants, acknowledge how his lips twist, how his hands hesitate before he finally clamps them on your thighs and slowly drags them up until they're teasing the waistband of your unflattering pyjama trousers.

  “Shy little Jungkook,” you whisper into his mouth. “So confident a few seconds ago, and now you can barely touch me.”

   “Where do you want me to touch you?” he asks.

  The question hits you like a ton of bricks. Your eyes flutter closed. His mouth trails hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw as he waits for your reply, but you're not sure you can gather enough air to give him one at this moment in time.

  His grip tightens on your thighs. Your legs jerk, but he holds you down. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, Y/N.”

  “Everywhere,” is your reply, because you can't think of one specific body part this is burning hotter than the others. “Just – Just stop messing around.”

  Jungkook chuckles. His tongue darts out, dabs at the hinge of your jaw before disappearing, and you want to scream with how slow he's taking this, like he's savouring every moment even though you're trying to scoot closer to him, trying to capture his lips with yours again.

  “Do you want me to touch you here?” He curls his fingers around your leg, his fingertips moulding into the flesh on your inner thigh.

  You shake your head, pursing your lips. “Somewhere else.”

   He raises a brow, slowly lifts his hand to your mouth. His thumb scrapes along your lower lip, and you resist the urge to do that thing you've seen in movies where the girl sucks the mans thumb into their mouth – is that even considered attractive in real life?

  “What about here?”

  “Not good enough.”

  He tilts his head, starts to smirk. His hand drops from your lips, glides along your chin and disappears into the front of your pyjama top. “Here?”

  He's not close enough. Your only response is a strangled groan, to which Jungkook laughs and slips his hand lower, lower, lower until his fingers are moulding the area you need to him to be.

  You groan, tilting your head back when his hand traces the underside of your breasts. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, took you long enough.”

  He leans forward and kisses you. It's desperate. Now that he's heard your response to his hands, he can't get enough. He wants to please you. He wants to take this as far as he can, and he shows this by hitching both your legs around his waist, picking you up and stumbling from the kitchen.

  “Where's the bedroom?” he asks, breathless.

  You point in the general direction he's referring to before pressing your lips to his. No more talking. He could stumble into the bathroom for all you cared, and you'd have him in the bathtub with absolutely no complaints.

  It's your luck that he kicks open the bedroom door and presses you into the mattress. His lips detach from yours for only a second as he strips off his shirt and you strip off yours; he gawks down at your exposed chest, shakes his head and says, “No bra?”

  “It's midnight,” you say. “I haven't had a bra on since seven pm.” You grab his shoulders and pull him on top of you. “Now please stop talking.”

  He laughs, peppering kisses along your jaw that leave you squirming and warm and satisfied. If he were to just spend the entire night kissing you, you'd go to sleep in bliss. His lips work like electric shocks, startling you every time he makes contact, every time his tongue slips from his mouth and joins with your flesh. You feel hickeys burn into your skin, but you don't worry about them now because God, you're too far gone. Tomorrow doesn't exist. It's tonight and only tonight, and it's you and Jungkook and everyone else can go the fuck to hell for all you care.

  He whispers in your ear. His voice is rough. The soft spoken, excitable boy you used to talk to on the phone every night has melted away into something ravenous and hungry, and his hips are grinding into yours with only his jeans and your pyjama trousers as a barrier, until there is no longer a barrier and it's just bare skin against bare skin.

  He asks if you're ready. You say you are. He asks if you're sure, and you say you've never been more sure about anything in your entire life, and in that moment, you mean it. He kisses you, and it isn't the kiss you give someone on a one-night-stand. It's soft, holding memories and feelings and his body slides against your own and your groans contaminate each others mouths. You get loud; Jungkook gets greedy. You beg for more, and Jungkook tells you you're doing so well, so, so well. You unravel in each others arms. Jungkook falls to the side of you, nuzzles his head in your sweaty neck and you hold him so close because you don't want this moment to end.

  “Tomorrow isn't real,” you whisper into his hair. He nods his agreement, panting against your flesh. His breath tickles your new hickeys. You reach up, press your fingers into the forming bruise.

  Jungkook presses a soft kiss to the skin. He's loopy. You look down and see that tired smile playing on his face, the sweat drenched ends of his bangs hanging in his eyes. He shuffles up the pillows, wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

  You don't think he realises what he's saying when he whispers “I love you,” into your hair.

  You look up. His eyes are closed, his breathing even. Jungkook is peaceful, but his words play on a loop in your head for the rest of the night.

  ---

  When you wake up, Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

  Your heart immediately lurches into your throat; this can't be happening. You know Jungkook well enough to know that he would never just use someone like that before taking off – so he's either parading around your house, or he's dead.

  You slowly sit up, tucking the quilt under your arms in a pointless attempt at sparing your dignity. The sheets are stained with sweat and . . . other stuff, and you internally groan at the idea of having to wash them; your new washing machine is complicated enough with clothes.

  You make a promise that you'll deal with them later before slipping out of bed and tugging your dressing gown on. You slip into a pair of slippers and head downstairs.

  Immediately you are greeted by the welcoming scent of cooking bacon. It's only when you walk into the kitchen and glance at the clock do you realise what time it is.

  “Six am?” you mutter, startling Jungkook. He stands by the hob, swaying his hips to a song that is playing softly from his phone.

  He spins around, face lighting up at the sight of you, even though you're certain you look nothing short of bedraggled right now. Whilst he looks fresh as a daisy in a black shirt that is tucked lazily into a pair of belted blue jeans, your hair is knotted and your breath stinks, and you have absolutely no qualms about any of it.

  “Apparently,” Jungkook replies. “I was hoping to make you breakfast in bed.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” you say. “But also, you're a guest. You shouldn't have to make breakfast.” To prove your point, you grab the tongs out of his hand and nudge him with your hip. He chuckles, giving you the benefit of the doubt by over dramatically stumbling out of your way. You roll your eyes and start poking at the mostly cooked bacon.

  “At least now you'll be able to say you helped,” Jungkook says.

  You grin. “I'm nothing if not completely useless.”

  “Only sometimes.” He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, and it is this movement that brings you back to last night; the kissing, the sex, sharing a bed.

  The I love you.

  You'll be damned if you bring that up to him, though, because judging by the look on his face, he doesn't even remember saying it. He sways around the kitchen like he's lived there his whole life, a goofy smile on his face that has your chest constricting, because you're fairly certain it's you that has put that smile on his face. He grabs two plates from the cupboard above your head and lays them on the counter, before he goes back to watching as you poke the bacon.

  “How do you know when it's done?” you ask.

  Jungkook blinks. “It's been done for a good two minutes. I thought you just liked yours crispy.”

  You hiss, quickly turning the hob off. “You could have said something!”

    “Give it here.” He takes the pan from you and starts scooping the bacon onto the plate. You follow suit, grabbing the bowl of scrambled eggs he'd prepared earlier and adding a decent amount to each plate. Jungkook then spoons the beans and adds the toast to the side, and the two of you are prepared.

  You eat on the sofa, because of course you do.

  Jungkook eats bent over his plate. You don't know why you notice this, or why you're so intrigued by something so small, but you struggle to take your eyes off him. He presses the edge of the plate into his chest and bends forward, his eyes not leaving the TV as he struggles to rip a bit of fat from his bacon.

   You watch his Adams apple bob, remembering the feel of it beneath your lips. You regret not trailing your fingers along the column of his throat. You regret not unravelling him, completely taking over in the way you so desperately want to now; you had been so caught up in the logistics of what was happening that you didn't take a moment to focus on what you wanted to do; you realise now that you want to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head. You want to see him come apart.

  You swallow thickly and turn back to the TV, cheeks burning. You need to remind yourself that you have other things to worry about besides what happened last night; the work hasn't just stopped because Jungkook decided it was a good time to show up and completely ravish you.

  Jungkook finishes his breakfast before you. As he nibbles on the last remaining bites of his toast, he turns and glances down at your plate; it's nearly empty, and yet he still raises a brow. “You feeling okay?”

  Your eyes shoot up. “Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”

  Jungkook stares at you for a moment longer, urging you to tell him the truth. When you look back down at your plate and ignore his seemingly endless gaze, he sighs, sets his plate down on the coffee table before shuffling closer to you. “Is this about last night?”

  You let out a breath. “I really thought you weren't gonna bring that up.”

  “Do you want me to leave it?”

  “No!” You grab his arm. “No, Jungkook, of course not. I really think we need to talk about it, but I just . . . I wanna know your feelings on it first.”

  Jungkook narrows his eyes, tracing the lines of your face, the same trail he traced with his fingers last night. “I thought I made my feelings pretty obvious, considering I was the one who initiated it in the first place.”

  “That doesn't mean anything,” you murmur, looking down. “I could have been bad at it, you know.”

  A noise not unlike a croak escapes Jungkook's throat. It slowly morphs into a laugh, his hand coming down upon your knee and squeezing.

  When you don't join the laughter, his smile fades and he stares at you. “Wait. You're not serious, are you?”

  You throw your hands up in frustration. You hadn't even realised this train of thought was so prominent in the back of your head, but there's no denying it now. “Look, all of it was very unexpected. I didn't have time to – like – practice my strategy or anything.”

  “You didn't need to-”

  “Yes, I know that, but it would have helped,” you hiss, before groaning and slumping back against the plush sofa cushions. Your plate remains abandoned on the coffee table. Jungkook looks down at it, picks up a piece of bacon and takes a bite.

  “I definitely came.”

  He says it so casually that you very nearly miss what he's said at all. Your eyes burst open, cheeks burning with this news that isn't really news because you know what happened – you were there. You made it happen.

  “You made it happen,” Jungkook continues, as if reading your mind. “And you definitely came.”

  “Oh god.”

  Jungkook grins. “I think I have the qualifications to vouch for that.”

  “You're a dick.”

  His grin only grows. He leans over and presses a kiss to the space just below your ear; you hiss and pull away, hand snapping up to trace the edge of the hickey you'd forgotten was there. Jungkook pushes the hair from your shoulder and lightly touches it, biting his bottom lip to fight off the smile that is surely threatening to show on his face.

  “Lovely,” he says.

  “I'm gonna have to cover this now,” you grumble. “Do you know how difficult it is covering a hickey?”

  “No, considering you didn't give me any.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I'm missing out.”

  “Poor baby.”

  He shrugs, swings his legs round and stands up. He grabs the plates off the coffee table and starts towards the kitchen, but not before saying a casual, “We'll try again next time,” that hangs in the air even as the sound of the tap water shatters the delicate silence.

  You grin, biting down on your bottom lip. Butterflies are attacking your stomach. Memories of last night are lodged in your brain, and you know for a fact that there is absolutely no way in hell you'll be getting any decent work done today.

  ---

  Jungkook leaves for the dorms at seven. On his way out the door, he bends down and picks up a thick yellow envelope, handing it to you.

  “I think that might be the new catalogue pages,” he says.  

  You hollow out you cheeks, taking the envelope from him and tossing it carelessly over your shoulder. “Tell Mr Bang I'll get it to him as soon as possible.”

  “Mm, no,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Then the old man will know I've been here overnight, and that is awfully suspicious.”

  Despite knowing this would be the case, your heart still quivers a little. You hide it by rolling your eyes and ushering him out the door. “Fine then. Leave the hard work to me. You go and prance around your practice room for a few hours, and call me as soon as you get a chance.”

  Jungkook spins, planting his hands on the door frame. “One more kiss?”

  You narrow your eyes. “You're gonna be that guy.”

  “I believe this is called the Honeymoon Phase.” He kisses you, small and soft but it ignites something in you you've never felt before. Jungkook feels it, grins against your mouth before slowly pulling away and clicking his forehead against your own. “I'll see you later, yeah?”

  “We'll see,” you whisper, before you grip his waist and spin him round. “Now go! I'm not being the reason you're late.”

  “Alright, alright. Tell me how you really feel.” His voice and laughter fade into nothingness as he disappears down the hallway. You watch him leave, gripping the collar of your dressing gown like some kind of wife sending their husband off to war. You only turn and head back into your apartment when you hear the lift ding closed.

  ---

  You love your job. You really do. There is a power that comes with correcting other peoples mistakes, and you are not ashamed to admit that you have been thriving off it from the moment you picked up that red pen and started slashing marks into the pages.

  But this is a whole different ball game.

  You're hunched over your kitchen table, your third cup of coffee half-empty beside you, doing nothing to help the exhaustion. Your body is slowly beginning to realise that you were not made for being woken up at six am. Your muscles are sore, and your eyes are getting tired before you've even gotten through the fifth page of edits.

  You lean back, scraping a hand through your unwashed hair that is still sweaty from last nights mishaps. You told yourself you would take a break to clean up and pull yourself together, because going another day in this state is going to drive you to breaking point, and yet three pm is rolling around and you have yet to move from your kitchen table.

  The pages are littered with images of Jungkook. With Bangtan being the only group involved with Big Hit at the minute, they're using their maknae's adorable smile and doe eyes to the best of their abilities. It makes your job ten times more difficult, as you have to stop every few seconds to send a picture of Jungkook's face to your Whatsapp group with a teasing caption that Jungkook always chooses to ignore in favour of asking you how you're getting on.

  Not good, you want to tell him, but you don't. He's working just as hard as you; it would be cruel to distract him with your own pointless stresses.

  And so you lose yourself in the world of literature for a few more hours, until the last page is glaring up at you and your hand is cramping, and you're refilling the ink on your sixth red pen. Five pm rolls around, and once again you're shrugging your jacket on and bolting down the street towards the Big Hit building.

  Mr Bang is standing in the lobby.

  You freeze, one hand braced against the glass door, the other clutching the envelope tight to your chest; well, this is most unexpected. Though you and Mr Bang have spoken on numerous occasions these past few weeks, most of those conversations were had via phone call. You had convinced yourself that the small man in front of you lived in his office.

  He turns when you enter, immediately smiling an oddly cute smile that lights up his whole face and crinkles his dark brown eyes. He nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and steps towards you.

  “I was just about to call and ask where you were,” he says.

  You shove the envelope in his direction. “All done!”

   “Great, great.” He tucks the envelope into his coat pocket. You resist the need to wince; he better not crinkle those god damn pages, or so help you- “The edits aren't the only reason I was looking for you, though.”

  Your brain short circuits, and you aren't even sure why.

  Today has honestly been the day from hell. Your head aches, and your hand is cramped, and all you want to do right now is curl up on your sofa with a glass of wine and drink everything away. Instead, you place a smile on your face and say, “Oh?”

  Mr Bang sighs, looks around as if checking for anyone eavesdropping before he steps closer to you and lowers his voice. “Have you and Jungkook fallen out?”

  Okay. That certainly wasn't what you'd been expecting.

  You raise a brow, flicking a glance over the big boss's shoulder. Gertrude quickly lowers her head, pretending she hasn't heard anything, but it's obvious in the tilt of her head and the shy little smile on her face that she knows exactly what Mr Bang is asking about.

  You look back at him. “I don't – I don't think so. Why?”

  “Well, I told him I was going to offer you a job in one of the offices here so you don't have to keep running back and forth from your apartment,” he says. “Jungkook told me not to.”

  It takes a minute for you to untangle what all of this means. It's the most absurd thing you've ever heard. It doesn't make any sense, because you and Jungkook slept together and he held you, and he said he loved you and there's no way in hell all of that changed in the space of a few hours.

  But Mr Bang is serious. His eyes shift to the floor when you stay silent, and you watch as he slowly sucks in a breath.

  “I don't like it when my employees go against each other,” he says. “I asked Jungkook if everything was alright and he refused to tell me anything. He's young, so I didn't push him, figured I'd let him figure it all out on his own. But I just want you to know that whatever this feud is – you can't let it get in the way of your work.”

   “There is no feud,” you burst out. “I mean, not really. Nothing you need to be worrying yourself with, anyway.”

  Mr Bang's eyes light up. “Really? That's fantastic, Y/N. How about you come and join us for dinner then?”

  Before, the idea would have lit something inside you. The idea of sitting beside Jungkook and laughing with your friends would have excited you to no end, but you replay Mr Bang's words on a continuous loop and find yourself unable to gather that same excitement.

  You stuff your hands into the pockets of your jacket and say, “I think I'm gonna have to pass. I'm exhausted.”

  Mr Bang nods as if he understands. “Of course. I'll send the next few pages over tomorrow, then. Get some rest, Y/N.”

  You turn on your heel and exit the building. It feels permanent. You want it to be permanent. You want to walk to your apartment, pack up your stuff and never come back. You feel like a teenager, moping over some boy, suddenly willing to change the directory of life just because this certain someone slipped up and hurt your feelings.

  But that emotion is there. You grip the material of your pockets and inhale the cold air of Seoul, ducking your head down in case anyone were to notice your gritted teeth.

  ---

  It's nearly eleven when the knock echoes through your apartment.

  You're draped across the sofa, a glass of wine in your hand, the TV blaring re-runs of Friends. You've been sneering at Ross Geller for the past three hours, and quite frankly, you are in no mood to be disrupted.

  You stay silent and hope the visitor takes the hint.

  It's never that easy, though.

  The knock sounds again. And again. On repeat until you eventually throw your head back and push yourself off the sofa. You slam your glass of wine down and barrel towards the door, throwing it open to reveal GoldenJeon in all his glory.

  Your drunken state wants to spit on him.

  He's grinning from ear to ear, hands in his pockets, hair a tussled mess. Even in your state of tipsiness, you still reach out and flatten a strand against his temple; you pull your hand back just as quick, tucking it under your armpit as if to restrain yourself from touching him further.

  He frowns when he sees the state you're in. You have no idea what you look like, but you're purposefully scowling to the best of your ability, arms folded, the glass of wine bright and full on your coffee table – it wouldn't take a genius to figure out just what is going through your mind right now.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Why are you here?” you demand. “I didn't invite you.”

  Jungkook's frown deepens. A crease forms between his eyebrows. “Since when did I need an invite?”

  “Since you started showing up uninvited and interrupting my relaxation time.” You try to slam the door on his face, but he wedges his foot between the frame and pushes it open again.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, poking his head through the tiny gap he's created. “Are you gonna explain to me what the hell is going on?”

  “No. Go away.”

  “I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're mad.”

  “I'll literally call the police.”

  “No you won't.”

  You purse your lips, turn on your heel and B-Line towards your cell phone. Jungkook shoves the door open and follows after you. You pick up the phone, but Jungkook is quicker; his fingers curl around your wrist and it is with barely any effort that he plucks the phone from your hand and tosses it onto the couch. He keeps your wrist in his grip, staring down at you with a set of eyes that – any other day – would have you pouncing on him in two seconds flat.

  “Let go of me,” you say.

  He does.

  “And get out.”

  “I'm so confused right now. I thought we were okay.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Is this about last night?”

  You groan. “For crying out loud, Jungkook, I'm drunk. Why can't you just take the hint and piss off?”

  He flinches. There's a tiny glimmer inside you that wants to apologise, wrap your arms around him and tell him you didn't mean it, but then you hear Mr Bang's voice in your head and your senses draw back to you.

  “You didn't join us for dinner,” he says. It's almost a subject change. Again, you want to spit on him.

  “I don't think you'd have been too happy if I showed up,” you reply. You take another swig of your wine. “Apparently you only really like me when I'm underneath you.”

   Jungkook's eyes widen. His hands twitch by his side, and he reaches up to deftly rub at this throat. “What are you talking about? You know that's not true.”

  “So why don't you want me working in the same building as you?”

  There is no way to make that sentence sound intimidating, no way to get your anger across without sounding childish and needy; you and Jungkook spent one night together. If he thought it was a mistake, you would respect that – but he didn't need to cut you off from your work, didn't need to come crawling back when he was in the mood. If he found regret in last nights endeavours, it would be so much more merciful if he just left you alone.

  His face softens. It's an expression of realisation, the fact that he's been caught out dawning on him. It's enough to make tears rise to the surface, and you blame the wine but it builds in your chest, grabs at your throat. Jungkook sees it – he lurches forward. You don't even fight when he wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into his chest, his chin taking perch on the top of your head.

  “No,” he says. “No, I didn't mean it like that. Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I said it to protect you.”

    “Protect me?” You jump away from him, stumbling but managing to catch yourself on the sofa at the last moment. “How could that protect me?”

  “We're not meant to have what we have,” he says, running his hands through his hair. He's trying not to touch you. You're trying not to throw yourself into his arms.

  “What is that, Jungkook?” you ask. “What do we have that is so special? Because last time I checked, all we've done is slept together and played a few rounds of Minecraft.”

   “That's not true. We've got more than that. You're more than that.”

  You grit your teeth, turning on your heel. Your wine sloshes, drenches your wrist but you don't even care. It triggers you to take another swig, then another, and another until the glass is empty. “You know what? I don't think I wanna play this game. I've never let a man dictate how a relationship works, and I'm not about to do it now.”

  Jungkook groans. “I'm not dictating-”

  “Telling your boss to keep me off the fucking premises so you can keep our friends-with-benefits subtle-”

  “And we're not friends-with-benefits!” Jungkook steps forward, grabbing your wrist before you can reach for the bottle of wine. You glare at him, hoping and praying that your eyes look menacing enough right now; you want him to know how angry you are. You want him to see how bad he's hurt you.

  His eyes trace your own. He's looking for forgiveness, but you won't give it to him. His lower lip trembles and he sucks it between his teeth.

  “I don't want us to be friends-with-benefits,” he whispers, fingers still curled round wrist. “I got carried away last night, but I didn't show up just to have a quickie and then leave. I want – I want more.”

  You stare back at him, unsure of what to say. There are so many responses that are playing on the tip of your tongue, but none of them seem right. Not when his eyes look like that. Not when he slowly leans forward and presses a kiss to the flesh just beneath your ear – right over a hickey he sucked into your skin the night before.

  You shiver, wrist sliding out of his suddenly slack grip.

  “Tell me if you want more,” he whispers.

  You close your eyes, tilting your head to the side. Your drunk and angry and turned on, and at this point it's too late to turn back. You do want more – you want it all. You want everything he is offering, but you know better.

  You step away from him. He looks at you, analyses the way you're standing, the way you fold your arms over your chest because you're so scared you'll crack again, so scared you'll reach out and touch him and lose yourself entirely.

  “I want you to leave,” you croak out. The words are acidic. They're a betrayal, but you have to say them.

  Jungkook's features harden. He looks down at the ground, brushes his foot against the carpet only once before he nods and says, “So that's it then? There's nothing I can do to make this better.”

    “You can't expect me to like this arrangement,” you reply. “I'm not sneaking around with you. I've got too much going on as it is without stressing over being caught with you.”

   Jungkook nods, but you're not entirely sure he understands. Maybe he hides a ton of stuff from Mr Bang. Maybe sneaking around is his forte, but you haven't had as much experience as him in this line of work. You're not ready to put your entire career on the line to be with someone who clearly doesn't care about you enough to want a real relationship.

  And god the thought hurts. The realisation hurts. Before, you failed to realise just how much of an integral role Jungkook played in your life, but looking at him now and knowing it will be the last time you'll ever be able to talk to him like a normal human being – it breaks something inside you. Little fourteen year old Y/N L/N is screaming in the back of your head, asking you what the hell you're doing.

  You push them away.

  Jungkook says nothing when he turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look back at you, barely utters a goodbye. He certainly doesn't apologise. He leaves you numb, watching the door swing closed behind him. You listen to the lift opening, closing, going down. You force yourself to stay rooted to the spot, resisting the urge to scramble to the window so you can watch him cross the car park.

  You have to let yourself believe that he is nothing more than another chapter in your life – necessary for your story, but you have to move on to know the conclusion.

  ---

  The pages are getting few and far between.

  Months have passed. You still see Jungkook everyday, but it's not how it was. He doesn't smile when he sees you. He doesn't text you to find out if you got home safe. If he can avoid looking at you at all, that is exactly what he does.

  In the beginning, you didn't want things to be awkward. You smiled at him, asked Yoongi if he was okay, made sure to check up on him when you could, but it got tiring after a while and you lost the motivation eventually. Jungkook wasn't giving you the same enthusiasm, so you no longer saw a point in trying.

  It's your last few days in Seoul. You can feel the end approaching, even though none of the Bangtan boys nor Mr Bang himself wants to admit it. Mr Bang lengthens the deadlines on your edits just to keep you around that little bit longer. The Bangtan boys invite you out for dinner, but you decline because you know Jungkook will be there and you don't want that kind of hassle.

  All in all, you are disappointed to say your last few months in Seoul have been terrible. Full of stress and avoidance, life truly did not give you an easy time of it.

  But your days are coming to an end. You stand by your bed now, looking at the packed bags. A lump grows in your throat; you swallow it down, swiping a hand beneath your eye in any attempt to hide the tears that are threatening to rise to the surface. No one is with you – it would be easy to just break down, because God only knows when you'll next get a chance, but you don't want to. Not even within the comfort of your own company. Crying means admitting you've been affected by the sudden shift in your life. Crying means admitting you got attached.

  Stupidly, obsessively attached.

  To a boy who was meant to be nothing more than a few texts on your phone screen.

  You busy yourself by reorganising everything yet again. It's the fifth time you've done it, and each time has been completely unnecessary. Your clothes are folded beautifully, your toiletries packed away, your sheets and work gear all tucked away neatly; you just need to do something. You finished the last few pages of the catalogue yesterday evening, sent them out and fled the Big Hit building before Mr Bang could make you emotional with any kind of farewell speech. You just needed out of there. Once you get back to your actual office, back home, you'll be fine. You'll be able to start over.

   It's as your reorganising that you realise you've missed something.

  How you missed it is completely beyond you, considering you've been through this five times already. You shoot up, spin around and glimpse your laptop on your desk, untouched for three days now. You've been too busy to even think about logging on and catching up with your gaming; besides, you didn't want to game. Not if Jungkook wasn't on the phone, yelling at you for the most trivial of things.

  But now seems a good a time as any.

  You slowly open it up, press your password in and wait for the Minecraft game to load up. It's ten at night, so nobody you talk to will be active; the game will be full of complete strangers, will be no fun. You'll sign out of it in a few minutes and go back to moping round your apartment, but at least you can say you've tried. It's a step in the right direction, a sign that maybe the spell Jungkook cast over you has melted away a little bit.

  You click on the server you so frequently play on, and look through the list of people active.

  GoldenJeon.

  You should delete it. The whole game, just get rid of it. It's no fun without Jungkook, but after the fight you had, it's no fun with him either. You don't want to play at all, so what's the point of even having it on your laptop?

  Despite these thoughts, the sense of them, you're unable to do anything but stare at his name. Your little character waits for the timer to start, signalling the beginning of the game, but you're not even preparing yourself for it. You're just staring at his name, blinking in gold letters.

   And then your phone chimes.

  Even though he hasn't texted you in weeks, you know it's him. You glance over, catch sight of his name, and you ask yourself why you even kept his number in the first place.

  Jungkook: Please don't surprise me this time.

  You bite your lip. That son of a bitch; he knows exactly what he's doing. He's prodding at your competitive side just to get a reaction out of you.

   But he's done it now.

   The timer counts down from three. As soon as the sirens go off, your hands are glued to the mouse and keyboard, and you're latching your view on Jungkook as his tiny little box character makes a dash directly for the woods; fool. He has no weaponry. Whilst everyone else headed straight for the chests in the centre of the map, Jungkook turned the other direction, thinking he would be doing something good by getting away whilst everyone else was distracted.

   However, you are not one of them distracted people.

   You sprint after him, even as your brain screams at you to just turn the bloody thing off and get back to being an Adult.

   You follow him deeply into the match, your phone chiming away at the side of you; it's Jungkook having a crisis, begging you to not follow him this time. You know he's only saying this because you will – you'll follow him, you'll kill his character and then you'll be reminded of the last time you did it, when Jungkook realised he could come over and yell at you in person if he so pleased.

    His character sprints through the map, gathering supplies and you follow him until he finally comes to a stop and you calculate your chances of survival if you were to just whack his head off now. You make your character crouch, duck behind a door frame as he shuffles around an abandoned house made out of bedrock (bedrock!).

   Your phone rings. You click ACCEPT without even thinking.

   “Where are you?” His voice his gravelly. It hurts to hear it.

   “Now why would I tell you that?” you ask.

    “I don't know why I never learn,” he grumbles. “You do this to me, you know. You make my head go somewhere else, and I can't use my common sense.”

   Your heart thunders. “It works in my favour, so I don't really mind.”

    “Are you gonna pop up out of nowhere again?”

  “Would you like me to?”

   Jungkook pauses. “I would. I really would.”

   “But then you'll be out of the game,” you tease. “Poor little Jungkook, losing another round of Hunger Games because he can't think straight.”

   He growls. It startles you, distracting you for a moment too long. Your eyes snap down to your phone, and you're positive it's only for a brief second, but by the time you look back up at the laptop screen, your character is being beaten bloody by GoldenJeon's stone pickaxe.

  Y/N has left the game.

  Jungkook doesn't laugh, doesn't yell in victory like you do every time you win. There's a single breath of humour-filled air before he says, “Got you.” And then he hangs up.

  You sit there, staring at the end credits and trying desperately to catch your breath; what the hell just happened? What the hell just happened?!

  He called you, is what happened. He had the nerve to pick up the phone and call you as if nothing had been going on these past few weeks, as if he hadn't ignored you, as if he hadn't completely ripped your heart from your chest and forced you to end things with him.

    You grit your teeth. This is what he wants. He wants you to play right into his hands so he can get the control back, and you're not about to let him get away with it.

   So you stand up, grab your coat and march right out the door.

   You know where the dorms are. You've been invited over more times than you can count, have broken Taehyung's heart by declining these invites, but you can't think of a better reason to make an appearance now. You shrug your coat on as you march down the street, turn the corner and head straight for the front desk.

  You're recognised and let inside almost immediately. You don't realise your relief until you're halfway up the stairs, heart thundering in your ears – this scene is so familiar. It's been reversed, but it's so familiar, and it makes your heart rate speed up to a rate you're pretty sure is considered unhealthy.

    You had won the game last time. Jungkook has marched into your apartment.

    Jungkook won the game this time. It's only fair for you to give him the same courtesy.

    You rack your knuckles against the door and wait for someone to answer. It takes two seconds, and there is nothing but undeniable relief when it's Jungkook's grinning face that appears in the doorway and nobody elses.

  You slam your hands into his shoulders and push him backwards. “You son of a bitch. I wasn't even ready!”

   Jungkook loops his arms round your waist and tugs you into him. You're so lost. You're so worked up and he looks so good, and he's just beaten you at a game you prided yourself on winning each and every time. He did it to tease you. He did it so this would happen, and you've walked right into his trap.

  But god, he smells so good, and his hair is slightly damp from a shower, and you're honestly prepared to make a fool of yourself if it means getting a glimpse of his toned torso one more time.

    “Sorry,” he says. “But I believe I won that round fair and square.”

  “You used a distraction tactic,” you hiss. “We never use a distraction tactic!”

  Jungkook raises a brow, tilting his head to the side. “I don't remember distracting you.”

   “You being on the phone at all was distracting enough.” You bundle your fists in his shirt, debate pulling him closer. You eventually decide against it and instead flatten your palms against his chest. “And then you kept making that stupid fucking noise, and I couldn't . . . I couldn't concentrate.”

   Jungkook's eyes flare. “I can't help it if you get distracted just by my voice.”

   “It wasn't your – Stop that!” You slap his chest and groan. “The point is, we need a rematch. That game wasn't fair, and you know it.”

   His hands tighten on your hips. You want to scream.

   “I really didn't take you as a sore loser,” he says.

   You scoff. “Don't act like you didn't come marching into my apartment when I won the last round.”

  That does it. The reminder settles between you, and you don't pull away even though you know you should. Jungkook's eyes – if possible – turn darker. Your breath hitches. The world is spinning too fast. You just want him to kiss you. You don't want any of this back and forth, teasing, talking in low voices – you just want him.

  You knot your hands in his shirt again. This time, you do pull him closer, but not by much. It's a little jerk that has his chest hitting lightly against your own, but he still isn't close enough for your liking.

   He inhales deeply. “I can't believe you're here after what I did.”

  You close your eyes. “We don't have to talk about that.”

  “I don't want to just sleep with you, Y/N.” He pulls away then, rakes his hands through his hair as if trying to restrain himself. “I told you on the day we argued that I don't just want to be friends-with-benefits. I want to be able to talk about things with you.”

    There are cotton balls in your mouth. It's hard to speak, so you just stare at him, hope that gets your point across.

  He bites his lip. “Is that what you want, too? Is that why you're here?”

   Is that what you want?

  On that first night, the first night Jungkook slept with you, you thought that was what you had. You'd never taken Jungkook as the type to have sex with someone and then just . . . leave, and that isn't what he did. Waking up to him cooking breakfast and his scent on your pillows felt almost natural.

  So of course you want it. You want him – not his body, but him. All of him.

    You swallow thickly and step closer. “If we're gonna make this work, we have to sort a few things out.”

   He nods too quickly, too enthusiastically. It rips your heart out of your chest. “Of course.”

  “I'm going back home in a few days,” you say, and Jungkook's hopeful expression fades. “I don't know – I don't know what that means for you. I don't know if that will make things easier. I don't know if me not physically being here will suddenly make Mr Bang let you date me, but-”

   Jungkook groans low in his throat. “I don't care about Mr Bang. I care about you.” He steps forward and cups your face with one large hand. “I made a mistake. I was so caught up in my contract that I didn't even stop to think about how Mr Bang would take my own feelings into consideration.”

   Your jaw drops, eyes snapping up. “What are you talking about?”

  “Mr Bang knows we – we talk,” Jungkook stammers.

   You step out of his grip. “He knows you went against the contract?”

  “In the beginning,” Jungkook says. “He was disappointed, but he's known me since I was fifteen. I guess he took pity on me, because I was a mess when I went into work that day and told him. I'd just reached my breaking point.”

   “And he was okay with it?”

   “As I said, he was disappointed. Thought he could trust me and all that.” Jungkook winces. You place a comforting hand on his arm, knowing how hard it must have been for him to have disappointed one of the people he looks up to. “I said I was sorry, and then he – he asked me how things between you and I were going, and I got really confused. He said it as if we were together.”

   You bite your lip. “Okay...”

   “I turned round and told him you'd ended things because you didn't want to be sneaking around, and he just looked at me like I was insane. He asked me what I was doing, told me to talk to you and then he let me have the day off.”

   You swallow the golf ball sized lump in your throat, not sure what to say but knowing for a fact that you are really gonna have to thank Mr Bang for this.

   Jungkook rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “So I went home, logged onto Minecraft to see if you were there – you weren't, but I waited.”

  “You waited.”

  “And then you came online and I took my chance.”

   “You did indeed.”

   Jungkook lowers his voice to a whisper. “And now you're here.” It's almost like he's talking to himself, even though his eyes are burning holes in your own. “You're here and you're not saying anything.”

    You don't need to say anything. There are no words that can possible portray what you're feeling right now, so you do the next best thing. It's straight out of a cheesy romance movie, but you've learned from the best and you launch yourself into his arms, kissing him with the need and desperation that has been building in your system for weeks now.

   Jungkook grunts into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist. The two of you stumble until the back of Jungkook's knees are hitting against the arm of the sofa and he's falling backwards into the plush cushions; he doesn't let go of you, and your body ends up right on top of his own.

   You kiss him again, and again, and again. Not just on the lips, but everywhere. Peppered kisses behind his ear, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth, his chin, his cheeks. Everywhere until he's giggling and trying to push you away from him.

    “You still played unfairly today,” you pant, exaggerating each word with a kiss to his forehead. “I want revenge.”

    “I'm excited to – hey! - find out how you get that revenge,” he replies, crinkling his nose up when you go to press yet another kiss there.

   His fingers are just starting to grip onto your belt loops when the door behind him opens. Jungkook's head snaps up, his hands tightening to keep you in place. Taehyung and Namjoon walk in, side-by-side, but immediately stop and raise their brows when they see the position you are currently in.

   Jungkook wriggles beneath you. You shoot upright, struggling to find your footing again. Jungkook grunts when you're forced to shove against his chest to get off the sofa. You turn to the two members of Bangtan and grin as Jungkook flops back onto the sofa and groans.

    Namjoon is the first to speak. “Hey Y/N. . . I see you took Taehyung's invitation.”

   “I did!” you exclaim, and then quieter, “I did. It's a lovely place you've got here.”

   “Apparently we've also got a lovely maknae,” Taehyung says, wriggling his brows, and Jungkook buries his head in the sofa pillows. “I always knew something was going on with you two; you're the only person I know who can distract Jungkook long enough to break him away from his work.”

   You raise a brow, flicking your eyes down to the boy in question. He peeks at you with one eye, half of his face still pressed into the cushions, and grins an embarrassed grin. You smile right back, pushing down a laugh.

   “Come on, Tae,” Namjoon chuckles. “Let's leave them alone for a bit. I think they have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Taehyung rolls his eyes, mouths Use protection before he and Namjoon turn and leave the room. You glance back at Jungkook, raise a brow.

    “He's totally lying, of course,” he assures, voice muffled.

   You chuckle and bound back onto the sofa, circling your arms round his torso and going back to pressing loving little kisses to every part of his face you can think of.

   ---

   Jungkook presses his chin into the crown of your head and sighs yet again. “You're still so tiny.”

   “I'll literally start walking home now.”

  He groans, pulling you closer to his chest. “Don't say home. You're home is meant to be with me.”

   You close your eyes and tilt your head back. It rests in the hollow of his throat. You want to live there.

   “I'll visit you,” you say, even though it's not enough. It'll never be enough. “We managed to keep in touch since we were fourteen – this isn't anything new.”

    He sighs again. “I know. We'll make it work, just like we always do.” His arms tighten on your waist. “I'm just gonna miss this, that's all. I'm gonna miss you – you in your physical form.”

  “In what way do you mean physical form, Jeon Jungkook?”

   He leans down and nips your earlobe with his teeth. “Whatever form you're offering.”

   You chuckle and shake your head, beckoning him away. He goes back to resting his chin atop your head, the two of you looking out for the train that will soon be pulling up to take you home. Your bag is packed, but Jungkook placed it a few feet away because he didn't want to admit that all of your stuff was in there – that means permanent, apparently. Packing up your stuff means there's no option to come back. Looking at your suitcase, filled to the brim with the clothes he's seen you in, the clothes he's ripped off of you, made him uncomfortable.

    “I feel like adults are meant to handle this type of thing a lot better,” he says suddenly.

   You look up; his chin slides to your forehead as he refuses to move. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs. “Like – relationships. Love. Stuff like that. I should have grown out of my mine, mine, mine phase, but the idea of you just . . . walking away is literally ripping me open.”

    You bite your lip. “Jungkook...”

   “I get it if you don't feel the same way. I'm not asking you to.” He shrugs again, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back so he can put his chin back where he is most comfortable. “It's only been a few months and I already feel like you should just be by my side all the time.”

   “I wish I could be.”

   “You do?”

   “I don't think I've ever clicked with someone like I click with you, Jungkook. I feel just as awful about leaving.”

    He sighs. Again. If you made this into a drinking game – drink any time Jungkook sighs – you would be falling head first into the train tracks by now.

    He hugs you impossibly closer, and the two of you fall into a thoughtful silence. In the distance, the whistle of the train sounds and you close your eyes, as if in doing so, you can somehow transport somewhere far, far away, with only Jungkook to keep you company.

   But reality is a bitch, and it slaps you in the face when the train pulls up and people start piling onto the carriages.

  You turn, quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing him, putting everything you can into the way your lips mould against his. He groans against your mouth – he always does – and he tightens his grip and you hope to God he just refuses to let go. You two can just live here, in this underground station, tangled in each others arms forever. You'll become statues, a part of the structure and nobody will bother you again.

   But the conductor calls a warning,and you know you have to go.

  You pull away. Jungkook's face falls, and his thumbs swipe beneath your eye. You didn't even realise you were crying until he shakes his head and says, “Soon. We'll see each other soon.”

   You nod, biting your bottom lip. You say the first thing that comes to mind, which might not be the best strategy considering this is the last thing you'll get to say for quite a while, but nonetheless, it's a perfect parting confession.

   “I love you, GoldenJeon.”

   His eyes widen. You panic, because that was certainly not what you planned on saying. He reaches towards you, but you press a final kiss to his lips, grab your suitcase and dart off towards the train only seconds before the doors close behind you.

   As the train speeds off, you turn in your seat. Jungkook is still stood on the platform, one hand raised to his lips and his eyes lowered to the floor.

    ---

  You're in your pyjamas again. Boring, stupid old pyjamas. You'd left them behind for a reason – you're wearing them now because you're trying to get back into routine. You have to be at the office tomorrow. You have to look Mr Grey in the eyes and thank him for the opportunity even though he was the one who ordered you home. You shouldn't feel angry, but you do.

  You press PLAY on your movie once again, having paused it to go and gather some ice cream and your laptop. You and Jungkook have only texted the odd time since you got home, with him claiming he wants to give you time to rest and you promising him that you were definitely, one hundred percent in bed and only seconds away from falling asleep.

   Turns out, falling asleep without Jungkook's arms around you is a lot more difficult than you'd originally anticipated.

  It's so weird. It's a phenomenon, considering you fell asleep without him your entire life. But now that you'd got a taste of just how luxurious sleep can actually feel, it's difficult to go back to square one.

   You click on the tiny little Minecraft icon and watch the screen load. It's almost instinctive when you log onto the all-too-familiar server. Again, it's much too late for Jungkook to be online – he told you he was doing some late night editing for one of his Golden Closet Videos, and you've seen him when he starts editing; he won't be looking away from that complicated editing screen for another few hours at least. His attention will be nowhere near Minecraft.

    It loads up, and of course, the little shit has lied to you.

  GoldenJeon is online.

  You narrow your eyes, hoping and praying he doesn't notice the little Y/N is online that appears in the corner.  

   But he's GoldenJeon. He notices everything.

   Your phone chimes. You wince, cautiously looking over as Jungkook's name flashes on screen.

  Jungkook: You weren't asleep for very long.

  Y/N: you weren't editing for very long.

  Jungkook: It's gonna be very difficult for me to come over and have sex if you win this match, you know. You didn't think this through.

  Y/N: i'm sure phone sex will be just as sexy.

  Jungkook: Let's give it a go.

  The match begins, and you win. It's no surprise – at this point, you're fairly certain Jungkook is just letting you win because he wants an excuse to come over.

   Or in this case, an excuse to call you.

   You pick up before the first ring is even over. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness before saying, “Miss me?”

   “More than anything. Now talk dirty.”

   “I love you.”

   You freeze.

   “Oh, did you like that one?” he teases. You can hear him grinning. You want to smother him – or kiss him. Either way, you can do neither. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

   “Jungkook-”

  “I've loved you since I was fourteen years old and you were just a weird little character on a shit, low budget game.”

   “I don't want you to talk dirty any more. Please keep making fun of me before I combust.”

  Jungkook chuckles. “Tell me you love me back.”

   “I said it first. You know I-”

   “Say it again. We're having phone sex, remember?”

   You bite your lip. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

    He inhales shakily. You can hear it, the rattle in his chest, the way he bites his bottom lip. You can imagine him tilting his head back in that way he does so often when you insist on walking downstairs in one of his shirts, or nothing at all if you're feeling particularly playful that day.

   “You're right, you know,” he whispers.

   “About?”

   “Phone sex really is just as sexy as the real thing.”

[ezpezlemonsquez]

Okay, so I've heard about that theory in which princess Yue was to be the Avatar but since Aang hadn't died but just had frozen himself, the cycle was somehow broken and that's why Yue was born so weak and had to be saved by the Moon Spirit. This actually gave me a fanfiction idea, so

in this concept Yue is Sokka and Suki's child, as Lu Ten is Mai and Zuko's. They spend a bit of their vacation at their houses in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se. Everything is peaceful. Everything is fine.

***

Lu Ten was screaming. He didn't have any control over his body, needless to say, his mind. He just wanted it to be over. Suddenly, he felt a gentle tug on his shoulder and he shuddered. Then he felt the second tug, a little bit more intense than the previous one.

"Lu" said someone with a really soft voice. "Lu, wake up."

So Lu Ten screamed for the last time and this time he immediately woke up and sat up on his bed. He was panting heavily, the sweat dripping off his body. At first he couldn't see anything. Only after a few breaths was his vision slowly getting better.

"Everything's alright, Lu." The same voice rang out again, finally letting Lu Ten fully get back to reality. It was kind of like his anchor and though he had sometimes heard it in his dreams, it had never been so clear before. Lu Ten blinked and he realised why this time it was different.

"Yue" he whispered and lied down again, utterly exhausted, as he saw his beautiful friend right in front of him. Her dark brown hair tickled his face when she leaned towards him to make sure he's awake. For real now. Lu Ten took one last deep breath and got up from the bed. He walked to the table and drank some water he'd prepared himself in a cup. The rest of it he spilled on his head. Yue came up to him and gently touched his shoulder.

"Everything alright?" she asked caringly. He nodded.

"Yeah" he answered, not being completely sure if he reassured her, or himself. "Yeah, everything's fine, it was just, uhm..."

Yue raised her eyebrow.

"A nightmare?"

"No, no, I don't have nightmares, no." He forced a laugh.

"Right" snorted Yue. "You know, you may be one really powerful firebender but that doesn't make you any truthbender."

"You say so?"

"I literally heard you screaming, Lu Ten. I woke you up."

The boy shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe you needed something?" he suggested and he suddenly realised something. "Wait a second, why were you even here?"

Yue seemed a bit confused for a moment.

"Uhm, I heard your scream" she answered finally, trying to be convincing. "I walked in to make sure you're not in any trouble. As always."

"Very funny, Yu. You were saying something about being a truthbender...?" he said, as if he was wondering.

"Excuse me, I'm the daughter of Sokka and Suki, I was basically born with the power of truthbending. Gotta have a talent, you know?" she said jokingly, throwing her hair behind her back.

"Yeah, of course. Come on, Yue, what were you doing outside this late?" He nudged her teasingly. "Perhaps a date or something? You know, holiday fling?" He insinuated, while feeling a bit of jealousy that she actually might have confirmed.

"I wish." She winced. "I... I was, uhm, kind of having nightmares myself" she admitted finally. "I woke up and I decided to take a walk. Moon soothes me."

Lu Ten's face changed immediately.

"Yue, I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, really. Now come, you want to take a walk with me?" She held out the hand to him. He smiled.

"Sure. Let me just put on some shirt."

She nodded. After a while, they were walking by calm, peaceful streets of the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se. Neither of them was saying anything, they just walked silently, hand in hand, being happy of each other's presence. They stopped at the fountain. It was a clear, warm night, so they took off their shoes and sat down, letting their feet dip into water. They were sitting silently until Lu Ten spoke up.

"It's a beautiful moon."

Yue smiled.

"Yeah, it really is. You know, my dad used to tell me the history of a girl from the Northern Water Tribe. She was a princess, actually. She was beautiful, and kind, and very brave, because when the time came, she was ready to sacrifice her life to become the Moon Spirit. I was named Yue after her."

"Did your parents know her?"

"My dad, yeah. They seemed to have been pretty close, you should've heard how he talked about her."

"Yeah, listen, from what I've been told, you should've seen my granduncle's face when my parents told him I was gonna be named after his son. Apparently, he cried so much. My father told not once that it was the least he could do for him for... well, everything."

"General Iroh was more like a father to your dad than Ozai, wasn't he?"

"He was." Lu Ten nodded. "He still is."

Yue looked up at the moon, thinking.

"You want to tell me about this nightmare that's bothering you?" asked Lu Ten softly. Yue sighed.

"This dream it... It comes back to me every full moon. But please, don't laugh, okay?" She looked at him pleadingly, with a weak smile.

"I won't, I promise."

"Okay, so, in this dream... I am about to become the Avatar. I can feel it's a great power, so I'm preparing myself to take it in. I'm waiting and waiting and it exhausts me but I reassure myself that once I take in the Avatar's powers, all my strengths will come back to me three times as great. And suddenly, something happens. Light blinds me, but no new strengths came. Instead, I'm just getting weaker and weaker. I don't know what's happening, but I can barely breathe. It's like, the circle has been broken and I don't know what to do. I try to scream but I can't even open my mouth. It's... it's horrifying." Tears appeared in Yue's eyes. She lowered her voice to whisper and she just looked at her hands. "I'm dying" she said barely audibly. Lu Ten didn't say anything. He took her hand and gently stroked it. He wanted to remind her she didn't have to be scared, because he was there. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"Anyway" she said after a while, when she managed to collect herself. "That's when I wake up." She looked at him with a sour smile. "Every time. No sooner, no later. I don't know what it means, so."

"Have you told about it anyone?" he asked, moving closer to her. She laughed quietly.

"No, absolutely not. And I forbid you to."

"Okay, no worries, just... I want to help you."

"I know, but please, don't tell anyone. I'll manage. So, you wanna share your dream now?" she asked immediately, trying to escape from the uncomfortable subject. Lu Ten let go of Yue's hand and smiled sourly.

"My dream is strictly connected with this city" he started. "I'm in Ba Sing Se but this isn't, you know, our Ba Sing Se. I'm in the Fire Nation's Army uniform. I have my own unit under command. It isn't big but I feel like it's great anyway. I know I trust these people. And suddenly, we begin to fight. At first, we win. We're going further and further into the town and I feel I'm on a tear, so I don't stop. Somebody's shouting my name but I ignore it. I run and I fight. I shout I don't need any more people, I'm calling off the reinforcements. Everything's great. But then I'm trapped. Earthbenders, more than I can possibly take, surround me. It's just me, my whole unit has suddenly disappeared. I try to fight them but I can't hold off them all. Nevertheless, I don't call for help. I just... try to take down these people. They're an obstacle. Someone shoots me, so I scream. I feel warmth of my blood. My vision blurs. I give more shots, and I get the same amount at me. Finally, I collapse. In my head there's just granduncle's song. It bores into my mind, I can't think of anything else, I can't hear anything but this song. It's more powerful than any thought, any sound I try to focus on. It hurts more than my wounds. So I scream. And I scream again and again, until I can't scream anymore." He looked at Yue seriously. "I'm dying, too" he whispered. Yue didn't say anything. She just moved closer and hugged him. He hugged her even tighter. The tears started to fall down their cheeks. They were both crying, because that felt like the only right thing to do.

"Don't tell anyone" whispered Lu Ten after a while.

"I won't" promised Yue.

They sat there, hugging each other, for a long time. They barely moved. Then Lu Ten cleared his throat and slightly moved away.

"We should go back home."

Yue nodded, sniffling.

"Yeah. Yeah, we should."

"I bet granduncle Iroh could make us some soothing tea, if you'd like."

"I would love to, but tomorrow, okay? We'll go to The Jasmine Dragon."

"Okay. Come on, I'll walk you." He held out his hand. Yue took it without hesitation.

"Thanks" she said quietly, smiling weakly. They didn't talk on their way back home. They really didn't feel like it. When they arrived at Yue's home, she hesitated.

"What is it?" asked Lu Ten.

"Actually... uhm..." She looked at him awkwardly, then she shook her head. "You know what, never mind."

"No, tell me, what's wrong?"

"I was gonna ask you, since I won't be getting much sleep tonight, if you wanted to keep me company" she admitted, smiling. "But then I figured you'd probably want to catch even a few hours of sleep."

"Actually, no, not at all. And I'd rather sit silently with you than alone, so." He smiled. "I would love to keep you company."

She looked at him gratefully and open the door. They sat on the carpet, near each other, trying not to fall asleep. But after a while they didn't even realise they did. They were sitting, leaning back against the wall, Yue's head resting on Lu Ten's shoulder and his head resting on hers. And when they were together, no more nightmares bothered either of them that night.