#why did the gods curse me with ideas I lack talent to express

[haley-harrison]

wHAT do you mean the image I envisioned doesn't exist on the interwebs?

you're telling me I have to draw it myself, with my own two hands and mediocre artistic skills???

outrageous. unacceptable. I want my money back.

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

jester began falling in love with caleb in episode 103.

not any earlier in my opinion, and not later, either.

there's two elements to why i believe e103 is the turning point.

(1) the first is caleb's actions and jester's responses to them during the night they all sleep by the waterfall—his support of her idea to sleep underwater, his conversation with her after her commune with artagan, and his casting of programmed illusion in the dome.

(2) the second is the way her behavior toward caleb pivots around e103. before e103 is a noticeably different beast to how she begins to treat him after e103—the attention she pays him, her efforts to hold more standout interactions with him, and a dramatic swell of emotion and thematic meaning in these scenes’ respective subtext.

the rumblecusp arc is the point in which jester’s character growth, and caleb’s efforts to unconditionally support her, really begin to shine. throughout the complex growing pains that jester and artagan's relationship was experiencing, the one person who truly takes a moment to offer her support without any agenda or judgment is caleb.

(e103, 1:22:55, bold mine)

CALEB: You okay over there?

JESTER: (tearful) Yeah, I'm fine. Just—I'm just drawing.

CALEB: Maybe didn't go as well as you were hoping?

JESTER: Um... In some ways it went better. But no.

CALEB: I can't speak for him. But you do have us.

JESTER: I know.

CALEB: So whatever you land on, Jester, we'll make it happen.

JESTER: (shaky laugh) I have to figure out what I want to land on.

CALEB: That is the, uh—sticky wicket, isn't it?

JESTER: Yeah. Everything's confusing.

CALEB: Maybe... Maybe we sleep on it, it'll make more sense in the morning.

JESTER: Yeah. Yeah. Thank you, Caleb.

CALEB: I didn't do anything.

jester confesses that her commune with artagan didn’t provide the answers she was hoping for—that he knew about the curse on the island—and caleb doesn’t remark on what that seems like. he deliberately avoids speculating on why artagan is doing these things because “he can’t speak for him.” he doesn’t assume anything about what she might choose to do and explicitly leaves that choice up to her. jester vents briefly about how difficult the choice is, and caleb offers her reassurance, a reminder that some time will make things clearer. he doesn’t suggest solutions.

unlike fjord or beau, caleb doesn’t ask her to voice outright whether artagan is being a good friend. he doesn’t continually question his character and imply any personal opinions to her or what he thinks she should do. instead, he asks whether she’s okay. he listens. and he offers unconditional support.

this is consistently the stance caleb takes in the rumblecusp arc. and it’s not discussed much, i think, exactly how monumental that was to jester.

(hold on, this is a long one.)

jester is a young woman who grew up sheltered and wants to define herself outside of that shelter. for her, this campaign has essentially been a coming-of-age journey (talks for e76-77, 14:12). she is deeply sensitive to whether or not she’s respected because she’s aware of how her personality and general lack of experience makes others think she’s naive, immature, or incapable (talks for e79, 31:51).

it’s also incredibly evident that her relationship with artagan is unique. in e105 (1:15:01), jester tells the m9, “he really got me through a lot when i was younger, you know? and he was all i had, really.” he was her best friend from childhood in a home where she spent most of her time hidden in a single room. when she was younger, the few times she left the chateau, she was bullied by other girls (e110, 3:34:59). her best friend, though? her best friend was a god. a god with an incredible sense of humor, an aggrandizing attitude, and adoring respect for a young girl in a difficult situation who had as wonderful a personality as him. in every way that matters, artagan’s friendship undoubtedly saved jester’s life.

and she is so, so aware of this. she cares for him deeply, trusts him unconditionally, and is determined to be there for the one person who had been there for her when no one else was, not even her mother.

the renegotiation of this friendship after artagan revealed his full identity was clearly extraordinarily difficult for jester. she was having to reevaluate her entire relationship with the being that pulled her through a childhood of isolation and misery, question his intentions with her and whether they could even remain friends at all. and this was amidst her arrival at a dangerous island with her other friends to help him clean up his mistakes.

asking her to make a judgment on artagan before she’s ready to do it on her own, while managing some high expectations at the same time—not only is it a lot of pressure, it’s frustrating and painful. jester did not want to judge artagan without giving him his fair due and a proper conversation. knowing that her new friends dislike her old friend, besides being hurt by it, distracted her. she had to both defend him outwardly and interrogate him internally. and if she tried to explain how important artagan is to her, a lot of vulnerability would’ve been necessary when she was trying to be a leader and seem competent and capable, instead of a child who needs patronizing guidance.

this latter point is exceptional. because jester lavorre is so vulnerable when it comes to how much she thinks her loved ones respect her and consider her a valuable, equal, and trustworthy individual. and it’s difficult to feel like you’re being valued and trusted when people are repeatedly questioning you about a person and a relationship that they don’t understand in a way that, despite genuine concern, comes across as them doubting your own judgment of one of the most intimate parts of your life.

in this precise moment in e103, caleb is the only person who acknowledges—to her in person, even—that he doesn't have any place in judging her relationship with artagan. that it’s not what she needs from him or anyone else. that he’s content waiting for her to reach a decision. that he will respect that decision.

and jester can believe him. caleb’s done nothing but remain consistent on this stance. he repeatedly supports her choices to run travelercon, trust artagan, and come to his aid.

when other party members question artagan's legitimacy, caleb is the one who almost always speaks up to support jester (some examples: e61, 30:43 / e77, 49:17 / e95, 1:09:17 and 1:15:24).

he actively and enthusiastically offers his magical talents to her to provide for the event preparations. he has a whole conversation with her in e91 (beginning 1:53:41) where he expresses his immense respect for her and her personality, explicitly validates her faith in artagan, and shows her a tangible example of how he wants to help her during the upcoming travelercon. when she suggests some ideas, despite their arguable silliness, caleb takes them at face value and openly admits his lack of expertise in this area (e91, 1:58:35).

when they first arrive at rumblecusp, he directly reassures jester about the ‘travelercon 3000’ banner she leaves on the wrong beach by mentioning that he can make her a new banner (e101, 48:18). once preparations begin in earnest, caleb expends spells very freely, including ones of higher-level, to produce whatever jester requests.

in e103, he hears out her idea of sleeping underwater and gives it equal consideration in spite of other party members trying to shoot it down. the first time she suggests it (36:23), caduceus comments against it and no other party member acknowledges her except for caleb, who agrees with her quietly while the others move on. the second time jester suggests it (46:08), veth comments against it and caleb steps in to openly agree that it’s a good idea, even after fjord and beau join veth in being dubious.

compare these active, consistent moments of support and validation from caleb to similarly active and consistent examples of the other attitudes that manifest during the rumblecusp arc, in contradiction to people’s apparent claims of trust (one such claim of trust: e95, 1:00:21).

plainly insulting artagan to jester as if it’s a given, such as fjord’s “he’s generally full of shit, right?” (e107, 49:42);

fjord, beau, and caduceus’s conversation about “not ruining jester’s big day,” yet distrusting artagan to the extent of planning to keep her from being alone with him, preparing to attack him should he try to sacrifice 200 people for some speculated unknown ritual and/or hurt jester, and discussing all of this behind jester’s back (e108, beginning 15:41);

caduceus’s said shift to distrust of artagan because of a semi-disturbing conversation that jester was equally a part of (e107, beginning 20:40);

and the discussion right before jester’s commune with artagan where beau questions if artagan sent them to rumblecusp knowing of the memory problems, without regard for their well-being (e103, 29:40).

the unfortunate assumption being made by these party members’ repeated questioning and protectiveness of jester is that she cannot be trusted to have good judgment. despite their familiarity with some of the context of her relationship with artagan (especially after e105), they disregard her repeatedly-expressed support of him. they indirectly disrespect her ability to judge for herself whether someone is dangerous to her or her friends. they don’t acknowledge jester’s own role in creating dubious situations and instead direct all their negative feelings and sense of fault to artagan, minimizing her agency.

the e108 conversation is a dense microcosm of how the party perpetrates these assumptions throughout the rumblecusp arc as a whole. without qualm, they discuss deliberately controlling jester’s time with artagan to ‘protect’ her and their willingness to kill the evil image they’ve constructed of him, and dodge jester directly asking them what they’re talking about—even though it is a known given that the m9 would defend her with their lives with or without any prior discussion. the purpose of holding this conversation isn’t to make sure that jester is safe. like caduceus near-explicitly says, it’s to “feel better knowing” that “anybody else was on board with this” (20:26 and 18:57)—to validate their unacknowledged distrust of jester’s judgment with each other, behind her back.

and as laura has said: jester, with her very high wisdom, tends to know what’s going on even if she acts like she doesn’t (talks for e79, 32:39).

in e103, when jester is crying because she’s found out that artagan did know about the island’s memory problems, caleb doesn’t show any sign of taking this as proof of artagan's ill intent. what he does instead: he offers compassion for her pain with zero judgment. he promises to support her, no matter what she ultimately decides to make of this information. these are offers of safety and trust, ones that jester desperately needed.

then—caleb creates a programmed illusion of the m9’s lives. and it’s beautiful.

in comparison to all the analysis prior, this moment is straightforward. jester is an artist. she paints, draws, and creates, and she loves doing it. moreover, she loves making art for other people. though she doesn’t get many chances to do so, the mural of a flowery meadow that she paints for yasha’s room in the xhorhaus is a perfect example. similarly, she enjoys the art she makes when defacing other people’s property—altered signage or statue of the platinum dragon painted in rainbow—in part because they’re gifts to the traveler. she loves making those she loves happy.

happiness and love to jester is overwhelmingly about emotional intimacy. i’ve talked about this to some degree in a previous post about jester’s jealousy. please refer there for in-depth explanation. in brief, though, she puts value on how deeply she knows a person; how often she’s been able to be there for them. this is the love she learned from her mother and from artagan, and how she continues to love once she’s older.

caleb’s arcane rendition of the m9′s lives floating around the inside of the dome is a display of exactly this kind of love. not only is it art crafted from his magic and imagination and love—it’s blatant evidence of how much he cares for every member of the party and where they’ve come from. he remembers their stories and hangs them in the air in hopes that it’ll help them resist the memory erasing. he moves the memory of yasha and zuala in a meadow over to yasha’s pillow-side so she can watch it until she falls asleep. he creates a memory for vilya of her, her husband, and her daughter, listening to and respecting the emotional gravity of what she’s confiding in them.

only a few minutes after jester’s disappointing commune with artagan and her conversation with caleb, she walks into the dome and sees this art. she laughs and stares in wonder at all the memories (e103, 1:46:08). when beau points out the humorous memories of fjord being attacked by turtles so they can all laugh, she tells caleb with equal awe and joy, “wow. this is amazing, caleb” (e103, 1:47:04).

...of course, as lovely and meaningful as these back-to-back moments were for jester, it's not quite evidence of her starting to fall in love with caleb around this time.

that’s where the following episodes come in.

[id: three screenshots of messages sent in a discord channel by the user “prim” (the op). all are timestamped to friday, august 28, 2020, the day after the live premiere of e107. the first has an additional timestamp of 12:53 PM, the second 1:03 PM, and the third 1:30 PM. they read:

honest to god though i don't know if it's just the shipper brain that is making me think laura is trying to roleplay jester beginning to reciprocate caleb's feelings [...]

like........ the golden dick hunt teasing is definitely on par with jester's past shenanigans, but the compliments have been Catching My Attention bc it's honestly not normal for jester to compliment caleb of her own volition like that, just as a one-on-one "i appreciate you" reassurance

and i'm thinking less about the spells from last night's episode (although how much jester was emphasizing the compliments made me go "awwwww") and more of the moments like jester telling caleb "that was impressive" after getting cad out of the tunnel with beau's help

but laura is absolutely a shipping troll with jester this campaign so i'm here like "I'M MAYBE 80% SURE I'M BEING FUCKED WITH BUT IT MAYBE HOLDS UP????" [...]

basically laura keeps doing things that make the alarm in my brain go off and i don't know if i'm picking up something legit or if i'm projecting my hopes, like the recent pattern of compliments from jester LOL

/end id.]

i’m not going to lie, if i try to list every single receipt like i otherwise prefer to do in these metas, i think we (and especially i) would all lose our minds. so while i’m about to provide a lot of citations, they genuinely are just a few possible examples that will mostly be within the dozen episodes after e103.

the more important detail that can be observed from this is that e103 is a turning point.

prior to e103, jester does not particularly go out of her way to interact with caleb. by and large, most of their direct interactions are either initiated by caleb or prompted by the context of a general party conversation. the majority of other moments that could be referred to as ‘widojest’ are of caleb’s evident feelings. beyond early campaign days, jester rarely teases caleb about sexual topics while insinuating things about her own sexual life at the same time.

after e103, laura and jester begin to go out of their way to interact with and intertwine jester’s time with caleb.

the rate of jester’s compliments and enthusiastic gratitude to caleb skyrocket (some examples: e104, 30:36 / e107, 16:49 and 1:11:28 and 1:12:15 and 3:10:39 / e110, 15:58 and 3:37:24 / e111, 36:15 and 38:41 and 50:58);

several mature jokes/flirtations she makes involve both caleb and herself (examples: e107, 1:16:17 / e110, 1:18:07 / e115, 1:52:53);

she deliberately and specifically engages caleb in full-blown interactions, such as the conversations during the tour of her childhood bedroom (e110, beginning 1:11:38), hanging out with him on the icebreaker ship (e112, beginning 3:45:29), and the reading of der katzenprinz (e115, beginning 1:52:43);

as well as the expansion of more extended ‘conversations’ like their motif of dancing (e108, 13:39 / e109, 2:54:14), their parental relationships (e110, 20:44 and 3:38:41 / e115′s der katzenprinz / e121, beginning 1:52:12), and polymorph shenanigans (examples: e107, beginning 2:58:41 / e117, beginning 1:13:55 / e118, 43:57).

thrown in are additional background details that further tie jester to caleb, such as her determination to recover caleb’s amulet after their defeat of vokodo (e106, 25:33), the knowing comments on his purchasing of paper (e109, 22:32 / e111, 1:25:49), her deliberate choice to ride whaleb during the avantika chase (e113, 2:32:28), her retrieval of caleb’s coat when he’s attempting to remove the necromantic emerald (e115, 1:30:56), and her deliberate reference to der katzenprinz to iver (e120, 3:05:14);

and simply everything about the tower. it’s another example of the art and creativity caleb produces with his magic to make his loved ones happy, which jester acknowledges at least twice (refer to the e111 compliments). contrarily, jester also makes note of the signs that this tower shows less love to caleb than she thinks he deserves, in keeping with her value of emotional intimacy (e115’s der katzenprinz / e122’s floor 8, room 1).

the reading of der katzenprinz in e115 is arguably the pinnacle of these examples. it’s intentionally initiated by jester. she both takes the step to visit caleb's room and indirectly requests him to read the story to her. laura’s implication that she remembered this subplot because of beau’s reading of a very romantic letter from yasha is particularly suggestive. the story itself incorporates many similar characters and themes that are present in jester’s backstory: the lonely, sheltered boy and his single working mom as jester and marion; the dubious cat prince who ultimately gives the boy freedom and confidence as artagan; and the deep love between the boy and his mother because of how they only have each other, which compels a powerful being to have compassion and thus set the boy free so that they can be together. very similar to both jester’s depth of relationship with her mother and her pleas on artagan’s behalf to the moonweaver’s celestial servant.

and the post-story conversation—caleb’s confiding of its importance to him because of his mother. jester’s open willingness to compare the cat prince to artagan, knowing that caleb respects their friendship and has treated artagan fairly. jester’s lingering, repeated looks toward caleb while smiling and holding her copy of der katzenprinz to her heart.

with all this dramatic expansion of the emotional and thematic intimacy between jester and caleb beginning to roll down the hill after e103—in brilliant contrast to their more muted, less reciprocal dynamic before this episode—e103 is more than likely the turning point of jester’s feelings. and based on the events and context, it was caused by the combined emotional appeal of caleb’s offer of unconditional support and his display of love for his family in the programmed illusion of memories.

[cuquitalocita]

kids and car rides 2 -feysand

AN: well, you guys liked the one-shot, so here’s a part 2! this is five thousand words of plotless fluff- hope you like it! if you didn’t read it, here is part one

part three

~~

Rhys had known he was screwed from the very beginning. 

It was those damn eyes. It had to be.

From the first comment Feyre Archeron had made in Literature, Rhys had been hooked. Maybe it was the tone in which she spoke the words, almost as if she expected someone to disagree with her even -though what she was saying was brilliant- but Rhys was pretty sure it was the paint stains she always seemed to carry around all over her body, no matter the time of day. 

Gods, all he had wanted to do was brush a finger over a paint-stained strand of hair when she had been in his car earlier. Yep, because Rhys had somehow convinced the brunette to let him drive her home. He was still reeling. 

Rhys shook his head, running a hand quickly over his face before focusing back on the road in front of him. Soon enough he was pulling into the student parking lot in front of the high school, immediately spotting Cassian and Azriel standing by Cassian’s truck.

Rhys scowled at them before turning off the engine and stalking over to them. He still wasn’t quite over them leaving Thebe out of his sight. But of course, Feyre had been there to find her. And just like that, his thoughts returned to the grey-eyed girl. 

His friends fell into step beside him as they walked through the school in silence, still tired due to the early morning. He wasn’t sure whose brilliant idea it was to have football practice before and after school, but Rhys was still bitter about it. 

“So,” Cassian snickered. “Did Rhysie have an interesting night?” Rhys shoved him, glaring through violet eyes at Cassian’s shit-eating grin and Azriel’s small smile.

“Shut the hell up, Cassian.” 

“I think it’s a fair ask. You finally got the girl to spend some time alone with you and you’re telling me it didn’t go well?” Rhys rolled his eyes, arriving in the locker room. 

“Keep your voice down.” 

“Oh calm down, Rhys. It’s six in the morning- there’s no one else here.”

“Still,” Rhys insisted. He didn’t know what was going on with him and Feyre, but he doubted she wanted anything about them to start circling around the school. Especially when she was still dating Tamlin Hybern. 

Rhys scowled into his locker. How could a girl like Feyre be dating a prick like Tamlin Hybern? 

It didn’t matter, Rhys reminded himself. Because Feyre didn’t seem interested in him. So why should he even broach the thought of a relationship between them? 

But his thoughts dissipated, quickly replaced with a small smile as he pulled his jacket out of his bag. She had only worn it for a few minutes, but the scent of Feyre Archeron had clung to his jacket like glue. Pears and lilac. Gods, Rhys could get drunk off of it. 

“Dude,” Az’s voice rang through the almost empty locker room. “You coming?” 

Rhys closed his locker, leaving his jacket inside along with the feelings for a girl who would never return them. 

“Yeah.” 

~~

Practice was uneventful, his eyes constantly dragging to the empty bleachers, expecting to see- he didn’t really know what. Rhys had showered quickly, shoving himself out of the locker room as students began arriving and walking to their classes. 

He was walking to calculus, already dreading what the old man had in store for his students when he passed the art room. Rhys shook his head. There was no way she was here this early. Why would she be?

But he couldn’t help it. So Rhys poked his head through the opened door of the art room, almost dropping the cellphone in his hand when he indeed saw the figure of Feyre Archeron hunched over in front of an aisle. 

His heart was in his throat as he gazed at the girl in front of him. She wore a frown, clearly frustrated with whatever was going on in the painting in front of her and the sight brought a small quirk to his lips. Feyre had the tip of a paintbrush between her teeth and she seemed to be mumbling something to herself. Her hair was pulled into some type of knot in her head, also held together with a paintbrush, this one with a small bit of paint on it that was already falling into her hair. Not to mention the smear of yellow paint already on her cheek. 

Rhys was full-blown grinning now as he shook his head. 

He was shocked out of his staring by a strong hand clapping his shoulder. He recognized it as Cassian’s.

“Dude, you are so screwed.” 

Yeah. Yeah, he was.

~~

He saw her again after lunch. Feyre was back in the empty art studio, her brows drawn together as she examined the painting that now looked like a night sky. Rhys was sometimes taken aback by how talented she was. 

If only he had the chance to tell her. 

Rhys could practically hear Cassian’s voice in his head telling him to do it, so he did. With a light knock on the open door, he walked into the art studio. He couldn’t help but feel out of place with his clunky football gear around the beautiful paintings. 

Feyre had jerked up as soon as he had knocked, the paintbrush flying out of her hand as it went to her chest. 

“Hell, Rhys! You scared me.” Her gray eyes hardened as she took him in and Rhys couldn’t contain the grin on his face as he pulled up a chair and straddled it. 

“Well, that was clearly my intention, darling. What fun would I be if I walked in like a normal person?” Feyre rolled her eyes, regaining her paintbrush and turning back to the canvas as if he weren’t there. 

“I wonder, do things like that sound funnier in your head?” she arched a brow. For a moment Rhys was taken up in how simply beautiful she was. She looked like something out of a Disney movie with her big blue eyes and golden brown hair. Rhys was such a sucker for it. 

“Aw, come on. We both know I’m funny.”

“Funny looking,” Feyre snorted. Gods, that was cute. 

“I think we both know how you feel about my looks, darling.” His jab was rewarded with a pretty blush on Feyre’s cheeks that suited her a little too well. Finally, she placed her brush down and turned fully toward him. 

“Is there a reason you’re here? Or have you just come to annoy me?” Rhys grinned, leaning his head on his hands. 

“The latter obviously.” At her lack of facial expression, Rhys sighed. “Alright, I digress. I came here with an ulterior motive.”

Feyre arched a brow. “And that is?” 

“To schedule my first study session,” Rhys blurted, thinking on his feet. The girl in front of him scoffed, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, and Rhys was struck with the raging desire to twirl it himself. It was sheer self-control that kept him in his chair. Because Feyre didn’t see him like that. No matter how much he wished she would. 

“Sorry to tell you, but this isn’t the library.”

“That may be true. But my tutor’s here. I’m staring right after.” Feyre’s open-mouthed response was cut off by the bell ringing and Rhys cursed silently. 

“Look, Rhys. I would if I could. But I’m honestly just too busy. This project isn’t working and the deadline is coming up. I’m sorry.” Feyre hauled her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave the room before Rhys’s arm was shooting out to catch her wrist. 

“Wait!” His hand dropped her wrist as she whipped her head back to him and Rhys swallowed. “Come on, go over notes with me for… twenty minutes. Then you can finish your project. I’ll even help you.” Feyre’s eyes flashed gray-blue. 

“And how, pray tell-do you intend to do that?”

“By giving you inspiration of course,” he smirked, and the no-doubt accidental smile that broke on Feyre’s lips could have fueled his soul if he was the last man on earth. He shrugged, as if unaffected by the gorgeous smile on her face. “I’d say I’m pretty inspiring.” 

Feyre watched him before shaking her head as if shaking thoughts out of her head. “You’re definitely something Rhysand.” She cleared her throat. “Fine. Meet me in the library. Three o’clock. Don’t be late. Have your study material ready and we’ll study. For twenty minutes.” 

Rhys bet his smile was blinding as Feyre walked out of the room and down the hallway. He watched her in silent awe. But she had said yes. 

Rhys wasn’t even a little embarrassed by the fact that he pumped his fist in the air when he knew she was too far to see him. She was going to study with him. 

For a class, he didn’t take. 

Shit.

Rhys cursed, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing the recently used number. 

“Rhys?”

“Az, you take European Art right?” 

“Uh… yeah? Why?” 

“Please tell me you have some sort of notes for the class.” There was a sigh on the other end of the line. 

“This is for Feyre isn’t it?”

“Will you just answer the question?” Azriel huffed. 

“Alright, fine. There’s a blue notebook in my locker- it’s for art. Anything in there should work for study material. Stay away from the back, though. Those are too detailed. Feyre would never believe they’re yours.” 

Rhys grinned, ignoring the jab, and thanked Azriel. After sprinting to his friend’s locker and acquiring his notebook, Rhys was strutting back down the hall, a satisfying feeling in his stomach. 

She had said yes.

~~

How Coach had actually ended up letting Rhys skip practice to study was beyond him. He had an inkling sensation that it had something to do with Cassian muttering something about a girl to him. Coach had simply rolled his eyes and given him a bi. 

And that was how Rhys arrived in the library fifteen minutes to three. He hid behind one of the higher shelves, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and praying to the Gods that he didn’t mess this up. 

Rhys had poured over the detailed notes in Azriel’s journal, thanking the Gods that he had a best friend who was so organized. The class seemed relatively simple, nothing much for him to worry about. He just hoped Feyre wouldn’t think he was stupid for asking the questions he would have to make up. Not lying in the first place really would have been the way to go. But it was much too late for that now.

Twenty minutes. That was all he had. He sincerely doubted that Feyre Archeron would spend more time with him than was necessary. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

As if hearing his thoughts about her, Feyre, in all her glory, walked into the library at that moment, a phone held in between her ear and shoulder. A small pout was on her face as she shook her head, ignoring the looks of the librarian who clearly pointed to the sign saying phones weren’t allowed. 

“It’s not like that Nes…” she was saying as she passed by the bookshelf he was hiding behind. She clearly hadn’t seen him. “We’re just studying. He asked for help and he drove me home last Friday. It’s the least I could do.” The voice on the other end of the line bit something back and Feyre’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Gods! No, that is definitely not what’s happening. Besides, you know I’m going to end it. Nesta, would you please calm down? Look, he’s gonna get here soon, I gotta go.” Feyre rolled her eyes at the person’s response. “Yes, mom, I’ll be careful. Love you too. Bye.”

Rhys was slightly surprised that Feyre felt she needed to be careful around him. The prospect of anything that would even remotely hurt her caused his stomach to tumble uncomfortably. 

But he steeled himself and walked over to Feyre who was already sitting at a table at the back of the library, textbooks open. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly when she noticed him before returning to their usual indifference. 

“Ready to do this, Archeron?” Rhys wasn’t prepared for the wicked grin Feyre shot him. 

“I think I’m supposed to be asking you that. Bring it on, Knight.”

~~

The study session consisted of alternating between watching Feyre ramble through intricate art details and attempting not to be intoxicated by her perfume. Rhys seemed unable to do either without realizing how truly enthralled he was with the girl. 

Feyre looked beautiful when she talked about art, and Rhys quickly realized he only needed to ask a simple question to send her on a factual tangent. But he didn’t mind. Her cheeks gained a pretty blush and her eyes twinkled with each sentence. 

Yeah, Rhys could watch her forever. 

But the buzzing of his phone alerted him that he and Feyre had ‘studied’ for much longer than twenty minutes, and it was time for him to pick Thebe up from the elementary school. 

“Any other questions?” Feyre asked, without noticing his phone. 

“You ready to go?” She started in place as she finally turned from her textbook. 

“What?” 

“If you didn’t notice, our twenty minutes ended a while ago, darling.” Feyre scowled at the nickname but Rhys continued. “And it’s time for my end of the deal.”

“Your… what?”

“I told you I would help you with your art project. So let’s go. I have to pick up Thebe, but if you want, you can come home with us, and we can try to figure your project out.” 

Feyre smiled at the mention of his little sister and Rhys’s heart did a little relay in his chest. But Feyre shook her head, packing up her bag. 

“Thanks, but I don’t know how you could help. It’s a mental thing and I… should figure it out on my own.” 

“Come on, Feyre. Are we gonna do this again? Just let me try. Besides, Thebe misses you.” Rhys was smirking the moment he saw Feyre’s resolve crack. 

“Fine. I’ll do it for Thebe.”

~~

“Feyre!” Rhys almost frowned at the excitement in his little sister’s voice as she jumped into the back of his car. She had never greeted him like that. 

“Hey, no hello for your big brother?” Thebe stuck her tongue out at him in the rearview mirror and Feyre choked out a laugh from beside him.

“Of course not. Because you aren’t her game buddy, now are you? Right Thebe?” 

“Right!” Feyre smirked in triumph as Rhys gaped at her. But he couldn’t even be offended if the sickly sweet feeling in his stomach was any indication. Rhys had been amazed from the beginning with how good Feyre was with Thebe. She had always been a good kid, but recently Thebe had been on a rebellious streak. 

But the little girl seemed to have a weak spot for Feyre Archeron. Rhys couldn’t say he blamed her. So as Feyre reached over and turned on the stereo in his car without his permission and smiled at him when he looked at her, he decided he would be okay with being whatever Feyre wanted to be. Because he didn’t know if he could live without being able to see that smile. 

The ride to his house was silent and content, Feyre smiling at Thebe in the rearview mirror as she kicked her feet to the tune of whatever song was playing. The second he pulled into their driveway Thebe was out of the car and sprinting to the front door. After a kind scolding from Feyre about running away from her brother, Rhys unlocked the front door and led the two girls in. 

He could already smell his mothers cooking on the stove and sweet, melodic music flowed through the house. He gazed at Feyre as she looked around, a small smile on his face.

He was so screwed. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” Before Feyre could reply, Rhys was walking to the kitchen mumbling, “I’ll get you a water,” and leaving her with Thebe. 

“Rhysand,” his mother hissed the second he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She was in front of the stove holding a wooden spoon. “Is that a girl out there?” Rhys scratched the back of his burning neck. 

“It is.” He was rewarded with a smack to the back of his head. “And why exactly have I not had an introduction?” 

“It’s her first time over here, Mom. I don’t want to freak Feyre out.” 

“FEYRE?” Rhys winced as soon as he realized his mistake. “The one you and the boys talk about all the time?” He almost laughed at the resemblance between her and Thebe, but he was too busy blushing down to his toes. 

“Yes, now can I please go back out there? There’s a good chance she ran away.” His mother rolled her eyes. 

“Rhysand Knight, you bring that girl in here right now and introduce me to her. If she’s anything like Thebe tells me then something tells me we’ll get along just fine.” 

“Mom-” the look she shot him demanded he keep his mouth shut and do what she said. So Rhys walked back out the living room where Thebe was coloring something on a bright orange piece of paper. She was speaking to Feyre, her hands moving in all directions as Feyre watched her, nodding along in understanding. There was no way she understood what Thebe was saying. 

Feyre’s gaze snapped up as he walked into the room. “What’s up?”

“Uh, my mom wants to meet you. Is that okay?” Rhys was ready to start rambling before Feyre stood up and walked over to him.

“Sure thing. I’d love to meet the woman who raised my favorite Knight. I’m talking about Thebe, by the way.” Rhys rolled his eyes, shooting her a small grin.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go Archeron.” Rhys lightly pushed the small of her back forward and they walked side by side back to the kitchen where his mother now held a knife. Feyre’s laid back demeanor quickly diminished as she gazed at the older woman and Rhys had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. 

“Feyre,” Rhys said through a laugh. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Feyre. She’s here for some inspiration.” 

Whatever Rhys had expected to happen was thrown to hell as his mother surged forward and enveloped Feyre in a hug. In a short bit of hesitation, Feyre hugged her back and smiled. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard so much about you- from both of my children, surprisingly. Although Rhysand didn’t tell me how beautiful you were!”

“MOM!”

Feyre was blushing up to her roots but she smiled back nonetheless. 

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Archeron. Your house is beautiful. And your children saved my life last Friday at the football game. Quite the athlete you’ve got here by the way.” Rhys frowned. 

“I didn’t know you watched the game.” 

“Oh, I didn’t,” she said, turning to him and shooting him a sly smirk. “I was talking about Thebe. She’s pretty fast.” His mother laughed as Rhys rolled his eyes. “I knew I would like you. And I suppose I have you to thank that I have my daughter here today?” Feyre shook her head, accepting the water bottle his mother offered her. 

“I didn’t do much. It was a right place, right time sort of thing. Besides, I think we all run away when we’re children. I’m just glad she’s okay. She’s just a kid- I’m sure she’ll learn not to run off eventually.” 

“I hope so,” Rhys and his mother echoed at the same time. Feyre looked between the two, a small smile growing on her face as she reached into her backpack and pulled out a pen and a pencil. Rhys shot her a questioning look but she simply shook her head, letting him know that she was in no rush to stress about her project. 

“So, Feyre.” His mother had returned to her chopping board and was cutting some carrots. He crossed the counter and pulled out a cutting board for himself and began to help her, catching Feyre’s eye in the process. The smile he shot her was one of pure happiness, and if he had known her better, he would’ve guessed the one she returned was the same. “Rhysand tells me you’re an artist.”

Feyre laughed a little. “Artist'' is a broad term. But, yes, I paint. And draw sometimes too. Your son would know, since tearing me away from my work seems to be his favorite hobby.” Rhys would have paled if not for the twinkle of amusement in Feyre’s eye and he flicked a droplet of water at her, causing her to reach over and pinch his side. 

Rhys yelped, and Feyre’s smile turned positively wicked. 

“Are you…? Are you ticklish?” Rhys squawked in offense. 

“I am not!”

“You are too,” his mother and Thebe’s voices harmonized together. The little girl had wandered into the kitchen not long ago and was sitting on the bar stool next to Feyre, holding her own colorful crayons and paper. 

“Wow,” Feyre mused from across the table. “Rhysand Knight: star quarterback. Ticklish.” She let out a melodic laugh and Rhys knew he would allow himself to be embarrassed for life if only to hear it again. Thebe giggled from beside her and Feyre arched a brow. 

“I wouldn’t be giggling if I were you, Thee,” she warned, wiggling her dexterous fingers at the little girl. Thebe let out a high pitched squeal as she attempted to back out of the chair, Feyre’s hand behind her the only thing keeping her from falling backwards.

“No...no! Feyre no! Don’t-!” the little girl protested. But it was too late, and Feyre had scooped the little girl into her lap, tickling her sides with fervor until tears of laughter were streaming down her chubby cheeks. Feyre was laughing along with Thebe, even as the little girl tried to reach for her own sides to tickle her. 

Rhys turned around and stared at the wooden cabinets for a moment. This feeling, in his chest. He had never felt it before. Like every bit of sunlight in existence was shoving its way into his soul, and there wasn’t enough room for it so it simply grew bigger. He couldn’t explain the happiness that coursed through his body at the sight of Feyre with his sister. He didn’t want to. 

By the time he turned back around, the two girls had called a truce, yet they both gazed at each other, eyes in slits. 

“Finally found her weak spot, Thee?” Thebe pouted, crossing her tiny arms in front of her and shaking her head resolutely.

“She’s not ticklish!” the girl complained in a whine and Feyre laughed. 

“Sorry, Thebe. It’s an Archeron family trait.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Rhys stated, placing his knife down in the sink and turning back to Feyre, who was now looking at him with wide eyes as he approached her. Feyre backed up and out of the kitchen, her hands in front of her as if to defend herself. 

“Rhys, NO. Rhysand, don’t you dare. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare! Rhys no-” 

The rest of her sentence was replaced with a sharp gasp as Rhys reached for her, his longer arms and legs allowing him to easily reach around Feyre’s waist and pull her to his chest. She shrieked as his fingers found her neck, tickling without restraint and causing a cacophony of laugh to explode from her as her body attempted to spring away from his. 

Not ticklish my ass. 

“Rhysand Knight, you let go of me right now!” she managed to get out in between out of breath laughs. Rhys almost didn’t hear her over the overwhelming scent of her shampoo in his senses. But when he did, Rhys smirked. 

“Hmm… no, I don’t think I will.” He didn’t think twice before hauling Feyre over his shoulder and carrying her back to the kitchen, her fists pounding uselessly on his back. Thebe and his mother watched the two of them with wide smiles and his sister clapped her hands in excitement, reaching out for Feyre as Rhys put her back down.

“My turn!” Feyre raised a brow, clearly confused. But realization struck her face too late and Thebe was already reaching towards her.

“Thebe! Come on, we’re friends, right? What about being game buddies? Game buddies don’t do this to each other!” But she was a girl on a mission, and Rhys tugged Feyre towards his chest once more, ignoring how well they just fit as he held her arms down. 

Thebe tickled Feyre’s neck relentlessly until she had no choice but to shield herself. Feyre turned, burying her head in Rhysand’s chest. He ignored the fact that it offered no protection to her neck and pulled her closer, disguising the movement with the laughter in his chest. Rhys would trade anything for the moment to never end. 

“Okay you two,” his mother cut in. “Release the prisoner. We do want her to come back, don’t we?” Rhys finally released her, immediately missing Feyre’s warmth. She shot him a dirty look that held absolutely no bite and the twinkle in her eye and flush in her cheeks changed her face entirely, reminding him once more of how beautiful she was. It knocked the breath out of his chest for a moment. 

But he finally managed to pull himself together, returning back to the carrots on the counter as Feyre settled back into the chair next to Thebe. 

“Traitor,” she hissed playfully to the little girl. 

“Hey, don’t mess with the Knights. Right, Thee?” Rhys cut in from across the counter, reaching out to give his little sister a high five which she excitedly returned. He caught Feyre’s eyes and the blatant happiness in them made his heart flip. 

His mother watched the two with amusement, her cheeks shining with a happy blush. The knowing look she shot him had Rhys clearing his throat and returning his attention to the carrots in front of him. 

“So, Feyre. Do you have any siblings?” Feyre jerked, as if shocked out of her thoughts before smiling at his mother. 

“I do, actually. I have two sisters, Nesta and Elain. Both are older than me. Nesta is a freshman at Prythian and Elain is planning on going there next year too.” Feyre was twirling her pen around her finger and Rhys quickly realized it was a habit of hers. He found it adorable. 

“What about you?” he found himself asking. 

Feyre’s pen stilled as she looked at him, as if surprised he had asked. But how could she be? He wanted to know everything about her.

“Velaris. For art,” she said finally. “That’s where I wanna go.” Rhys hoped Feyre hadn’t noticed the change of pace of his cuts. Rhys had been born in Velaris, and had lived there until he was ten before moving to Prythian. He had loved it with everything in him. Still did. Rhys thought he was pleasantly surprised yet again by another thing he and Feyre Archeron held in common. 

“Really?” his mother asked knowingly. “How come?” Feyre’s eyes lit up, taking up an almost angelic glow. Rhys tried not to stare. 

“It’s gorgeous. The city itself, and the lights, and the stars, gods, I could look at the stars of Velaris for eternity.” The life in which Feyre spoke the words had Rhys meeting her gaze. And something so taut pulled between them, he thought something would snap, if not his self control.  

“What’s your project on?” he croaked out instead. Feyre cleared her throat, looking away from him and down at a scribbled on piece of paper next to Thebe. Her masterpiece. 

“Um,” her voice was hoarse. “Love.” Although she wasn’t looking at him, his gaze snapped to her, noticing her now red cheeks. 

“Love?” asked his mother.

“Love. A piece of art that represents my definition of love,” Feyre replied, finally looking at him. Gods, she was beautiful. 

“Rhysie! I wanna help!” Rhys startled, looking at his little sister who was now holding out her hands for his knife. Rhys laughed, shaking his head and placing the knife down far away from her. 

“Sorry, Thee. No knife today. Actually, no knife for a while.” His sister’s gaze narrowed, ready for war. But Rhys reached over the counter, careful not to brush his arm with Feyre’s, and picked up his sister, quickly sitting her on his shoulders. 

She giggled in glee and Feyre beamed at the little girl. Rhys had a feeling Thebe wasn’t the only one with a soft spot. 

“Here,” he said. “You can help from up here.” He tickled the bottom of her foot and grinned as she laughed. He loved this little goofball. 

“Rhysand, you drop that little girl and I will knock you on your ass so hard you won’t be able to breathe for a week,” his mother warned. Feyre let out a loose laugh at the statement and Rhys playfully glared at her. She returned it in kind.  

“I wouldn’t dare,” he swore. “Scouts honor.”

“Were you in scouts?” Feyre asked. 

“No,” cut in his mother. “No, he was not.” She hit the top of his head and Rhys winced through a laugh. 

“Aw,” Thebe cooed from above him. She began to rub his head. “There, there. Feel better Rhysie.” Finally Rhys smiled, looking up at the pair of violet eyes that matched his own. 

“Thanks Thee.” 

A rustling sound had him looking back to where Feyre was. She had grabbed a piece of Thebe’s construction paper on the table and was reaching for a dark blue crayola crayon. Rhys watched as she bit her lip in concentration and her hand began to move over the paper. 

Feyre looked up again only to find him watching her. He quirked a brow in question and the smile and shrug she gave him in return was the sun on a cloudy day. 

“I think I found some inspiration.” 

~~

Rhys was in love with Feyre Archeron. There was no denying it, as he stared at the row of finished final products in the art studio. The snarky and quick witted girl had captured his heart and Rhys was more than willing to give it to her. She could do with it as she pleased.  

He had fallen wholly and deeply for her. 

And as he gazed at the bright orange paper in front of him, at the sketch of a kitchen and a mother, a son and a laughing girl, he thought he might’ve fallen a little bit more.

~~

i love these two :)

[stay-tinystars]

Colors: Masquerade

Ship: Hyunjin x Fem reader

Non idol au, Soul Mate AU

Warnings: sarcasm, bitter feelings, tripping over things, slight hitting/slapping (nothing violent), Chan is a tease, reader is implied to be older, I think that's it.

Word count: 4.2 k

A/N: So I wanted to write something for Hyunjins birthday. I always have been intrigued by Soul mate AUs so I wrote one. I haven't seen this one done before, so I hope you all like it. I plan on doing a one shot for each SKZ member for this AU. So some skz members will feature slightly in this and future stories. The series will be called Colors.

I hope you enjoy! And Happy birthday to Hyunjin! He is amazing, talented, and just drop dead gorgeous! Happy 21st international birthday! --story published Mar 19 2021 6:00pm MDT

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

Most people couldn't wait to meet their soulmate. The one person who would change not only your life, but your eyes.

Everyone was born with two different colored eyes, they say those colors determined your childhood. Overall they generalized the colors; Blues usually meant they were inspired kids, inspiring themselves and others to do great things. Green meant they had luck on their side. Brown had resilient personalities, bringing a sense of dependability to others. Purples were very independent and creative. Grays had a sophistication that most children lacked. And so on and so forth. By the time you reached middle school everyone knew what their exact eye colors meant, and some say it predicted how you would find someone.

Eyes however didn't remain two separate colors your whole life. Once you met your soulmate they changed almost in an instant, color shifting for a few seconds until your eye color perfectly matched that of your mates. Some say time seemed to stop once they noticed their mates' eyes changing, but one thing was for sure no one felt their eyes change color, the only thing they usually felt was their heart speeding up. 

You originally couldn't wait to find your soul mate. You got caught up in the feeling of it all. You believed he would be everything you wanted and more. During your teens it's all you dreamed about, how you'd meet in some perfect way, how he would sweep you off your feet. However the past few years had made you bitter, watching friend after friend find their mate leaving you in the dust.

"You'll be the same when you find your mate" they would say as you grimaced as they would kiss and cuddle in front of you. Most of those so called friends never invited you to things anymore, because you couldn't relate because you didn't have someone. They said it was because they didn't want you to feel like the third wheel, but mostly you knew it's because they pitied you for not having someone. "It's a shame you don't have anyone, I hope he's still around somewhere"

You were starting to feel like you had some sort of disease, because that's how you were treated by those 'friends'.

Things only felt worse as you stared at the flyer someone slid under your door.

-----

Hyunjin pov

"Mandatory masquerade spring formal." He read as he lifted the flyer from the pile of mail next to his door. Hyunjin hated these mandatory regional events. At least this one was just a formal instead of a full costume ball, like the last one. The large cities throw these balls, three times a year. Anyone over the age of 20, who hadn't found their soulmate was required to go. This would be his third ball, he hoped it would be his last. Sure he wanted to meet his soulmate, but mostly he wanted all the girls who came to these things to stop throwing themselves at him, staring at his eyes hoping to see a change. Most would find it flattering, in fact Hyunjin did back in high-school he always loved the attention. Curious which girl would try during lunch that day. Now it was getting old, he wanted someone who truly saw his soul, not just his good looks.

Hyunjin sighed as he looked at himself in the floor length mirror, black suit pants, navy silk long sleeve button up with the top three buttons undone. A dark night sky scene was painted on the mask that rested on his nose. His long dark hair pulled away from his face. His eyes unchanged, still two different colors. One burnt umber, the other ocean blue.

He was curious of what color his eyes would change to once he met his soulmate, he heard it depends on how and when they meet.

For instance, his dad had similar eye colors to his before he met mom. They met on a stormy day, each on their way their jobs enjoying the rain. They met while dancing out in the light spring shower while waiting at a crosswalk. Now his parents both had beautiful bright gray eyes, the same color as the storm clouds as they parted for the sun that day.

Would his eyes turn the Navy he had chosen for this dance if he met her tonight? He sighed to himself, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his things and left his apartment.

--

Reader pov.

At least the food they provided at these mandatory balls was delicious, it seemed the only incentive that was worth the trouble of being here. The numerous hors d'oeuvres were delicious, and you had a plate full of all the different types to make sure they still tasted delicious.

Truthfully you hated being here. You had been to too many of these things to count. At this point you wondered if your soulmate was dead, or lost somewhere. Simply because you hadn't met him yet, and it felt as if time was ticking. Maybe that's because your friends all found their mates within the year you all turned twenty. Now here you were five years later, still with miss matched eyes. One pewter gray, one lavender.

You wore the same dress you always did to these balls. At first it made you feel amazing, like a princess. Now it only brought you bitterness. The purple satin that faded to blue, a galaxy made of glitter across the bodice. The mask on your face was silver, making your eyes seem to shine.

"You look bored" a familiar voice got your attention, as he sat at the empty table next to you. Dressed in all black as he usually was. Looking devilishly handsome as always.

"Chan, I'm always bored at these things. You're the only one who talks to me" you sighed leaning on the table as you looked towards him. 

Chan was a god send at these things. He became your friend a few years ago, during one of these balls. His dimples made every girl swoon, it was the first thing you noticed about him, but what made you stay was the wonderful caring conversation that was so rare at these things. He actually wanted friends, not just a soulmate. He was truly a social butterfly.

"Maybe if you leave the table, and stop glaring at anyone who approaches, someone might talk to you." His mischievous eyes of emerald green and royal purple danced beneath his black mask, as he stole some hors d'oeuvres off your plate. Popping one into his mouth.

"Shut up Chan, not all of us are as charming as you!" you playfully hit his arm. He gasped softly and grabbed his arm in fake pain.

"I'm sure you could be somewhat charming. That is, if you took the "F off" stamp off your forehead." he teased making a face at you.

"Very funny" Rolling your eyes, looking back towards your plate of food, then towards the dance floor which was filled with eager young people, all dancing and talking. Switching partners every song or so. You watched as one couple suddenly stopped dancing, their eyes growing large. She squealed, jumping up and down as he hugged her. Another happy couple, another soulmate found.

You wanted to vomit.

"I want to know how neither of us have found our match, we've both been too far too many of these." You groaned, sliding down in your chair. Not caring how unladylike it was. You glanced towards Chan, who was just enjoying watching everyone.

"I suspect my match is elsewhere" his words wise, his eyes looking towards the newest happy couple fondly. "I think they might be at one of these in their own region"

"She probably is cursing your name right now, wondering why you are taking so long to find her." you started.

"Like you are cursing yours right now?" You wanted to smack that smirk off his face.

"Chan you can be infuriating." You stood, smoothing out your skirt. Chan chuckled following you. Knowing you wanted some fresh air.

"Maybe you don't want to crash the next regional dance with me." he nudged you as you both walked around the main crowd, towards the large outdoor balcony.

"Now that is a good idea, I didn't think you had any of those left" you looked towards him with a shocked expression. Your foot caught on something, then someone's body bumped into yours.

That's when you ended up flat on your back, your mask slightly askew.

The music seemed to stop. In fact it had. You looked at your converse clad feet which were tangled in the electrical cords from the DJ booth. Chan was laughing. The DJ scrambled from the booth to fix the electrical situation. You shifted, untangling yourself best as possible from the cords. Muttering a slight apology to the frazzled dark haired man, as he gathered the cords quickly.

"I'm so sorry!" A new voice said as he stumbled to his feet beside you. His navy shirt hanging loosely around him. "I wasn't even looking where I was going," he said, dusting himself off. Then looking at you, and offering a hand.

"It's my fault too, I wasn't looking." You said taking his hand, to help you to your feet. Then glaring at Chan who was beside himself with fits of laughter. "I was too busy chiding my friend" you gestured towards Chan, shaking your head.

"My name is Hyunjin" the handsome man smiled, his mask shimmered as the little iridescent stars caught light.

"Y/N " you said with a slight bow, fixing your mask.

"It's nice to meet you, I haven't seen you here before." he smiled, he was ridiculously attractive.

"Well she's been here, forever" Chan exaggerated as he leaned on your shoulder. You shoved him away.

"Shut up Chan."

"Well you have!" He put his hand up in mock defense.

"I'm so done with you!" You walked away, then turned to Hyunjin and gave a quick wave. He gave a small nod, as a girl approached him tapping him on the shoulder.

You took that as your queue to leave. You felt so done with everything, still hadn't felt that spark everyone gushed about. You felt slightly embarrassed about cutting the music with your own clumsy feet. You made a fool of yourself thanks to Chan, you just knew you needed out.

When you got home you were exhausted, and changed out of your gown, and quickly washed your face then just went to bed.

------

Hyunjin

Hyunjin nodded, as the strange but cute girl practically ran away. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder his attention was brought to a girl in a pink poofy ball gown. The music was starting up again, he knew she was going to ask him to dance. Why had he come in from the balcony?

"So I've been watching you all night. And…." Her eyes widened. "What color are my eyes?" She asked quickly, her words stumbling out of her mouth.

"Um.." Hyunjin cocked his brows as he looked closer, kind of confused. "Dark blue, and light green?"

Her face fell, then he saw multiple emotions flash over her face, ending in anger.

"Why are you here if you already have a soulmate? Shouldn't you be with them!" She practically yelled. Hyunjin was confused, as the girl slapped his arm and ran away. What a strange turn of events. First he ran into that girl, Y/n? Now he just got some weird girl thinking he had a soulmate, these balls got worse every time, maybe he would call it a night.

He went to the bathroom, still bewildered by the weird situation that just happened. As he took off his mask he looked in the mirror.

"What the hell?!" He yelled at his reflection, leaning on the counter, getting closer to the mirror. Both ofHis eyes a bright flaming orange. He felt as if he was looking at a campfire in his eyes. His mind started reeling. How had he met his soulmate? He had barely talked to anyone all night, he had hid on the balcony outside for the first hour of this thing, just eating the hors d'oeuvres that were provided. He then came inside to try to make the night worthwhile, and while looking at the decorated ballroom, he ran into someone, literally. That's when it clicked, the girl he literally ran into, it had to be her. She was the only one he talked to!

"Y/N, I've got to find Y/N!" He grabbed his mask and ran out of the bathroom.

Two hours of searching later, Hyunjin sat defeated at a random table. He sat his mask down and slumped in the chair, as he watched happy couples in pairs all around the room. That's what was supposed to be happening to him right now, staring into his soul mates eyes, dancing the night away without a care in the world.

Who had ever heard of a soulmate who didn't know. A soulmate who didn't say anything. These stupid masks, they cover up half your face, distorting the eyes. The dark room. How did they expect people to see the change with those factors?

He always heard that when you saw the change and knew, but he hadn't seen her eyes change, plus she ran off so quickly. Maybe he should've gone after her. No, that would've been creepy, plus he didn't know at the time.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn't even sure exactly what she looked like. That's when he saw his chance. He swears that's Y/Ns friend from earlier, in the all black and black mask talking to the DJ right now. Hyunjin quickly stood and bee lined towards the man in black.

"Excuse me, your Chan right?" Hyunjin said, approaching him.

"Yes, and you're Hyunjin?" The man smiled, as Hyunjin nodded. Chan resumed watching the people on the dance floor in front of him.

"Yeah, I, uh, ran into your friend Y/N earlier" Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah you did, quite literally." he chuckled, side eying and gently elbowing Hyunjin.

"Well that's the thing. I kind of need to find her."

"Did she break your phone or something?" He asked.

"No, she's kind of my soulmate." Hyunjin blurted.

"What?" Chan choked on air, as his eyes bugged out. He turned and grabbed Hyunjin's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he saw the orange in his eyes.

"She's the first one I talked to tonight at this stupid thing. After hiding on the balcony. I didn't even know it happened til another girl started to flirt with me." Hyunjin now turned his attention to the dance floor.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but she's long gone." Hyunjin felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"I figured, since I've been looking for her for over two hours" he heard the other male grimace on his behalf.

"So I was wondering if you could help me out. All I know about her is her first name." Hyunjin looked towards his shoes, trying to distract himself with the nice polished shine.

"Well I could help," Chan smirked and Hyunjins head snapped up looking at him, "but I'm not sure I owe Y/N the courtesy of helping her out." Chans mischievous two toned eyes shone playfully.

"I thought she was your friend" Hyunjin was slightly confused, yet again this evening.

"Oh she is, she just owes me after bailing on me tonight." He looked at his phone. "And being as I have no messages from her freaking out. I bet she didn't even notice before she went to sleep"

They exchanged information, Chan excited to be in the middle of this. Curious of how you would react in the morning. Promising Hyunjin to keep him informed.

-----

Your pov

The blaring alarm on your phone made you groan, you silenced it and rolled back over. Some days you wish you didn't have to work, but being a manager over editing on the largest magazine in the city meant you couldn't miss work. Yet you still fell back asleep.

When your alarm went off to tell you it was time to leave you woke up in a panic. You quickly showered and dressed, grabbing some breakfast then you were out the door, not even bothering with makeup as you were going to be late.

"Oh my gosh! Tell me everything!" Joy, your second in command gushed as you entered the office.

"Nothing out of the ordinary at those stupid balls. Food again was the only reason to attend" you muttered as you set your things down on your desk, and plopped in your chair.

"Obviously that's a lie! Now tell me what really happened!" Joy pestered. Her vivid seafoam green eyes, staring you down. She found her soulmate just after she started working with you, but she always wanted to gossip and talk about those meeting their matches. It intrigued her for some reason.

"I told you everything. I went ate food, watched all the stupid romantic couples, headed outside. Tripped on the cords for the DJ booth then left." You huffed, leaning back. She put her hands on your chair making you face her. You cocked your eyebrows at her.

"You don't know? How can you not know" Her words confusing, and accusing.

"Joy, what are you talking about?" You groaned. She then dug in her purse bringing out her compact.

"I know I didn't do my makeup today." 

"Just look in the mirror"

"But-"

"Just look in the mirror Y/N" you grabbed the compact from her hand and looked at yourself, trying to see what she was talking about. Nothing seemed out of place, you didn't have any bruises from the collision last night. You went to close the mirror when you glimpsed orange. You immediately pulled it back to your face. Eyes wide.

"I…. What?" Your words lost and confused.

"Now tell me about him!" She sat on the edge of your desk looking at you.

"I only talked to Chan last night. And we both know he isn't my match" you sat staring at the mirror in your hand. Going through everything that happened, you grabbed your phone. Quickly texting Chan.

--What color are your eyes???

you hadn't heard of knowing someone for years before they became a soulmate but you had to ask.

"Well you had to have met someone new" she nudged your leg.

"That's the thing, I don't remember talking to anyone else. Just Chan annoying me, then-" the sudden realization hit you. "I ran into someone, literally"

"Of course that's how you would meet your match" she nodded. "You are kind of clumsy"

"Oh hush!" You pushed her slightly, she just laughed.

"So tell me about him"

"Um, he was handsome? I think his name was Hajun? No, Hyunwoo? I don't remember. I was a little frazzled last night. Plus we only talked for a second after we both ended up on the floor" you muttered, leaning back in your chair again looking at the ceiling. When your phone buzzed.

-why are yours perhaps a different color

-say orange? 😏

--Well I never expected you to be my soulmate after all this time….

- what are you going on about? My eyes are still a perfect green and purple.

--Chan what do you know...

- Far more than you think

--Chan tell me! Did you talk to Hyunwoo?

-I don't know a Hyunwoo.

-do you perhaps mean Hyunjin?

-- YES! Hyunjin! Are his eyes also orange

-- dumb question

--you told me orange before I told you what color my eyes are.

-this is actually very entertaining

- you're over thinking everything aren't you.

-- Shut up Chan!

-- Do you have his info

- Maybe, but you told me to shut up so I will!

--Chan! No!

-- Please!

--I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you! I need his number.

- Only if you do something for me

-- I don't like where this is going...

- you never do.

- dinner 6 pm tonight, at Ombu downtown.

- be there and I might give you what you want after you pay for dinner.

-- You only like me for my money

- I have more money than you!

--So you say, but I always pay.

- just meet me at 6.

"So Chan knows who it is, but won't give me his information" you said looking at Joy who was now actually working at her desk. Like you should be.

"Typical Chan, let me guess. Making you buy him dinner in exchange for the information." You nodded. "I swear whoever his soulmate is better cook well, he will do anything in exchange for food" she shook her head.

Work was over soon enough, and so you changed into jeans and a blouse, did a small amount of makeup and headed downtown. Ombu was your typical spot to go with Chan. Delicious Korean barbecue, their meat selections far better than the other places around. Which is why Chan always insisted on going there. 

"Welcome, Y/N! Chan is already waiting for you" Rose the usual hostess said guiding you towards your usual back corner booth, Chan loved this booth, he could people watch and it had the best hot plate.

"Thanks Rose!" You say as she motions towards the table. Your eyes grew as you looked at the table. Not only seeing Chan, but you couldn't stop staring at the orange eyed man next to him. "Hyunjin, right?" You said softly as you took your seat, he nodded a smile came across his face as he stared at you.

You finally started to understand why those couples would just stare into one another's eyes. His eyes were intriguing, bringing you a sense of peace. His eyes looked like the flames of the comforting campfires you enjoyed so much as a child. You almost wanted to just curl up and look in his eyes forever.

"Well, now I can see this is going to be awkward. So I'm just going to order food to get the dinner started" Chan said. You hadn't even realized the waiter had come to the table to take your order.

"Sorry" you and Hyunjin muttered at the same time. Followed by nervous giggles.

"I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," you said to Hyunjin. "Chan wanted dinner in exchange for your information. I didn't think he would bring you"

"Well, I asked him to keep me informed last night, after I couldn't find you. So once he told me you guys were getting dinner I wouldn't let him tell me no" his hand drifted towards yours on the table.

"So you're persistent," you noted.

"Very." He smirked moving closer.

"Look, guys I want dinner. Can't you guys make heart eyes at each other afterwards. I just want to eat. And if this continues, you guys are going to make me sick." Chan groaned.

"I'll try to behave," you said as you reached towards Hyunjins hand, taking it in yours.

"You don't know how to behave." Chan teased. You just rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You usually would say something back, but you were slightly distracted by the soft circles being drawn by Hyunjins thumb on the back of your hand.

Two weeks later you sat in Hyunjins apartment. Cuddling as you watched an action comedy. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped around you. You started to get to know your match well. You found out he worked at the large musical academy. He taught dance, and music history. He was doing quite well for himself, he had a nice place, a car, and was decently responsible with his money.

Hyunjin was your soulmate, your match. Aside from that first night at ombu with Chan; the two of you did your best not to be disgustingly cute in front of those who didn't have their match yet. Such as his roommate Han, who usually ended up joining the two of you for movie nights.

Truthfully life was good, you felt less bitter about it all. Of course it wasn't perfect, and you still had a lot to learn about the other, but this was what you needed. You needed someone who was whole, who had a kind heart and soul. And that was what you got, it was just a perk that he was ridiculously attractive.

Hyunjin was grateful to have finally found you too. He didn't mind being younger. He loved your caring heart, protected by its sarcastic shell. He couldn't believe he met someone who already had so much drive and compassion. He loved your playful banter with his friends, he was grateful you accepted his friends and did your best to make them comfortable. Plus he couldn't ever take his eyes off of you. In his mind you were perfect in every way, despite the flaws you insisted you had.

He felt lucky being the first of his friends to find his match.

-- Orange meaning: warmth, enthusiasm, success, encouragement, change, determination, stimulation, happiness, fun, sexuality, freedom, expression, and fascination. --

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Idk if you do child readers or not but if you don't mind could I get Utsuro, Mikado and/or Nikei x child!reader? Sorry for bothering you-

I do! I got a real soft/funny idea for this--

.........

"E-Excuse me, sir?"

Feeling a slight tug on his blazer, Utsuro blinked as he looked down to see who it was. And he saw you, a small child who seemed to be elementary school-aged. Though you looked as if you've been on the streets for quite some time.

"Yes?"

"I just..w-wanna say thank you for helping me. I don't know how you..c-calmed those dogs down but...you saved me." You stammered.

This man did save your life after you were cornered by large rabid dogs. He just showed up and suddenly they were laying down, perfectly calm, even letting you pet them.

"...don't mention it." He responded in his usual cold way, waiting for you to be scared off by his lingering stare.

But you weren't.

"Where are you off to?"

"Not sure. I just wander this earth without purpose."

"I...feel the same way.." You remarked, letting go of his shirt. "Could I..?"

Utsuro was quite surprised by your request, and especially at the gratitude you expressed--which is something he's never received in all his childhood.

But as much as he wanted to be on his own, he saw you and realized...you were just like him: having nowhere to go and lacking purpose.

So he sighed, picking you up effortlessly. "Perhaps we can search for a purpose together." He decided, before leaving the alleyway. "The name's Utsuro..not that you would care but-"

"I'm [y/n]..th-thank you again, Utsu. But...can I call you Dad?"

The man paused for a moment, and during that split second-silence he felt genuinely touched...but he buried the feelings and shrugged. "If it makes you happy."

You grinned and clung to him as you continued on your way.

Unbeknownst to either of you, a certain journalist had witnessed everything unfold, taking notes.

........

"You better be serious about this Nikei. Don't guide us towards false hope with some ridiculous narrative--"

"I am serious! I saw him with my own two eyes!" Nikei slammed his notepad down onto the table. "He helped some kid who goes by [y/n] and...they're accompanying him now. I don't know where but..we'll have an easier chance of finding him. I don't care what happens to that street rat."

"Oh?" The wizard's mask formed a confused expression. "Why so hostile about an innocent child? Is it perhaps...you see yourself in them? Do they reflect the way you have grown up--"

"SHUT UP!!" Nikei's eyes were glowing red at this point. "That brat doesn't know the true power of his divine luck...and they aren't worthy of hoarding it all to themselves!"

"Ooooh..temper, temper.." Mikado tutted, joyful to know he struck a nerve. "Well, you should probably get to know this [y/n] before anything else. So go get a "scoop" on their connection to him. They're not a mere obstacle. Surely they know more about him than we do, no?"

".....you tried burning down two orphanages and suddenly you care about this kid's safety?"

"People change, Nikei. I see those extreme methods aren't necessary anymore. Now be on your best behavior out there. Don't wanna scare them off, you know."

The journalist gritted his teeth, despising the way Mikado treated him like a child. But he just collected his notepad and stormed off.

..........

"So..if you just want something, you can get it instantly?"

"More or less..that's my divine luck." Utsuro shrugged, sitting back on the sofa. "But it's not as fun as one would think."

"How so?" Your curiosity was seemingly endless as you sat beside him. "I thought..it'd make you happier. I know I'd be happy."

Even though he had nothing but the clothes on his back, he managed to get a small flat for you two. It was temporary, but at least he had a reason to rest after so much wandering.

He just looked at you for a few moments. Indeed, he remembered how naive he was back then--thinking of his luck as a gift, when in fact it became a great curse.

"I used to think that too. But..do you wish to learn why I'm like this?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

And he proceeded to explain how he grew up with his divine luck, becoming apathetic after learning that there's no process to what he does--like if he wanted to drive, he already knew how to without taking any tests.

So nothing had any meaning to him anymore.

He left out his attempts to off himself, for obvious reasons, and went on to say how he goes around helping people..but it's merely to pass the time.

By the time he finished, you could only frown as you hugged him. "I'm sorry.." Was all you could say.

"Don't be." He put his arm around you. "I'm..gonna take a walk. Wanna come?"

"I'm okay. My legs aren't sore anymore but.."

"That's fine. I'm just going to the convenience store. Anything you want?"

After you told him your favorite snack, he got up and grabbed the key, departing for the store.

For some time you just watched television, though your mind kept wandering back to Utsuro and his story. At least you know understood why he was the way he was.

But your musings were interrupted by a door knock. 'Is he back already?' You got up and went to the door, only to open it and see a completely different man there, with black hair and dressed in a sandy-brown coat and hat.

"Why hello!" He greeted with a smile. "Is uh..your dad home?"

"What do you want?" You answered warily.

The man seemed taken aback by your coldness, though he forced his grin. "Well I'm a friend of his! Nikei Yomiuri! Y'know? Ultimate Journalist--"

"Never heard of you before."

Ouch. That was a stab to the heart.

"I-I'll just ignore that comment..and get the point." He sighed. "I've heard of his talent of luck and I'm hoping to get an interview. Rumor has it he's helped a lot of people in his life, including you! So if you can tell me where he is I--G-GAH!!!"

With a swift kick to the nards, you scowled at him as he crumpled to the ground almost immediately. "He said he had no friends..so you're lying. I'm not letting anyone use my dad's luck for themselves anymore! Get lost."

Nikei was mumbling a string of unintelligible curses, but he managed to get up and walk away, finally leaving you alone.

You huffed and closed the door, returning to the sofa. Only a few minutes later did you hear it unlock as you saw Utsuro return with some groceries.

"Hey, kid." After setting the bags on the table, he turned around just in time to see you hug him once more. "Hm? What is it this time?"

"Nothing..I just...I promise I won't be greedy with your luck. And I won't let anyone else be, too."

He blinked a few times, stunned. But he smiled just a tiny bit as he reached down to pat your head.

"..thank you."

Finally, there was something in this boring, dull world worth living for: And that was you.

..........

"So..what have you learned?"

"Th-That goddamn..piece of shit...a-asshole has one hell of a kick! I swear to fucking god I'm gonna--!"

"Ahaha! If only I was there to see it. But it seems we have a true child of Utsuro on our hands."

[watchtower-feed]

Waynesitter’s Dating Life

✧ …

✧ You don’t even get a day off. What makes you think you have a dating life?

✧  Least of all a normal one where you don’t have millionaire vigilantes with boundary issues dropping envelopes filled with complete profiles of your dates.

✧ You’re moping in the Wayne living room, sprawled on a couch because your last date turned out to be involved in a human trafficking ring in Gotham.

✧ Worse: Cass and the boys had to save you.

✧ “Get over it, Y/N.”

✧ “But Jason, he was soooo hot! He had sex lines!”

✧ “We have those!” Dick lifts up their shirts to show you his and Jason’s V-cut abs. You look but you’re not impressed and Jason swats Dick’s hand away.

✧ “I can’t believe you tried to convince us that he was just being blackmailed.”

✧ You sway your hand in the air, dismissing his comment. “Tim, he had a baby-face that could rival yours any day, and he was charming. How was I supposed to know he was the leader of their operation.” You finally sit up and rub your face down harshly. “Ugh! Why do I have the worse luck in dating? I must be cursed.”

✧ “Or you live in Gotham?” Cass teases you from the floor while she plays with your styled hair, twirling the curls. 

✧ “I gotta get out of this city or else I'm going to end up like Bruce.”

✧ Dick suddenly gets this bright idea to cheer you up and feed a little bit of his ego. He huddles Jason and Tim behind the couch to look down on you. “Why are you wasting your time with strangers when you have three perfectly well-mannered, well-off, and well-chiseled bachelors in front of you?”

✧ You and Cass bend down to look under the couch, “Where?”

✧ Dick props you back up and he’s grinning wider as he grabs your shoulders, “If you had to choooooose” he drags out the word as he pulls Jason and Tim back to your field of vision, “Who would it be?”

✧ “Questions like these start wars, Dick.”

✧ “Replacement’s right. Haven’t you read the Trojan War?”

✧ “That’s what you’re going with, Jason!”

✧ You sit up straight on the couch and stare at the three of them, making them stop. You make sure to deliver your retort with a deadpan expression, “I’d wait for Damian to turn 18 then live the rest of my life as a gold-digging cougar. Oh! And I would build a pool in the West wing.”

✧ “I’ll allow it,” Damian answers from one of the armchairs in front of you. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded in front of his face. “But after we condition your hips to be fit for child-bearing.”

✧ You walk out and cry to Alfred because Cass won’t even let you into her room. She’s too upset that you would choose Damian and the manor over her and a little apartment in the middle of the city like you’ve always talked about.

✧ “It’s one thing to be called fat, Alfred. But to be told I’m not woman enough by a 13-year-old?” Your eyes widen as you clutch the hem of his vest, “What does he even mean by condition my hips?”

✧ “Y/N, why wait for master Damian when master Bruce is already in his prime. He could use a woman like you to keep him in line.”

✧ You grimace. “Alfred. Are we working for the same guy? Would you date Bruce?”

✧ Alfred gives you a long look before he speaks again, “Perhaps I can introduce you to one of my nephews when they visit?”

✧ “Now we’re talking.”

✧ One day, you do fall for someone. Someone great and surprisingly none of the Wayne’s are hounding you with background checks, date stakeouts, or random texts asking if you need help bailing out on the date.

✧ You’re happy for a while but then you start getting suspicious because of the lack of Wayne activity. They’ve done it to all of your dates before, so why not now? 

✧ You start stalking your date every now and then, trying to catch him and see if he’s actually Dick in disguise. Or he’s someone Jason paid off to show you a good time. Or maybe it’s one of Tim and Damian’s alien friends. He could be Cass, too. You never know.

✧ In the end, your longest almost normal relationship ended because of your own paranoia. He broke up with you because of all the sleuthing and doubts.

✧ You were so devastated that you couldn’t bring yourself to walk into the manor. So you walk home and you text Bruce and Alfred that you can’t make it. It took you three hours to get back to your apartment and your feet are killing you. You slump over the couch and before you know it, you’ve been staring at the wall until past midnight.

✧ You hear a lot of whispers and scuffling from your fire escape. You groan when you hear them creak open your window. “Go away.”

✧ “We come in peace. We even brought Steph.”

✧ For every physical talent Cass and the boys possessed, god took back an essential social skill. Aside from you, Steph is their go-to empathy guru. “Oh, baby,” she watches you untangle yourself from the couch and hugs you tight. “Come here.” You bury your face in her shoulder and swallow back a sob. You can smell the gunpowder and smoke.

✧ “Did you have to come in your suits? You’re going to get Gotham on my carpet.”

✧ Jason bends down to look at you and gives you a proud grin and thumbs up. "Don't worry, Y/N. We made sure that guy regrets hurting you."

✧ You stare at Jason and you start snickering little by little until it turns into full-blown laughter. "He's Alfred's nephew!"

✧ "Shit--!” 

✧ “Dick, this is all your fault."

✧ "Woah hey-- It was your idea--Hey! Tim! Cass! Wait for me!"

✧ “Damian, you knew didn’t you!”

✧ “See you in hell, Todd.”

✧ You grin against Steph’s shoulder who’s giggling, “He wasn’t really, right?”

✧ “Nope. Now, they’ll race to see who can apologize to Alfred first.”

✧ “They’re going to dig their own graves!” 

✧ You sigh in satisfaction, "I feel better already."

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[its-nebula]

You Could Do So Much Better

Leon Kuwata x Fem!Reader, inspired by the song "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne

Warning: Some cursing, slight NSFW?

I wasn't really that fond of Leon before starting to write this, but then this idea popped into my head and as I did more research I think I like him a bit more!! Anyways there's a lack of fics for him so here y'all go. This is looooooooonnng so enjoy

You were starting to get impatient now. You looked like a loser sitting on the bench by yourself, with your arms crossed wondering where the hell he was. He was never usually this late! Seriously, he could’ve at least called ahead and told you he was going to be late, or even a text would’ve sufficed! Well, whatever. He would explain himself whenever he showed up.

“S/O! Hey!”

Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. With... oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no he didn’t. Who was that clinging onto his arm, giggling like a little schoolgirl? Did he really have the nerve, the audacity, the gall to bring his girlfriend Sayaka along? Without so much as warning you? Immediately, you could feel the blood inside your body start to boil, but you kept your calm, putting on the must realistic smile that you could.

“Hey, Leon.” You greeted, and then you turned to Sayaka. He didn’t seem to notice, but she also seemed to be displaying the fakest grin that you’ve ever seen. “Hello, Sayaka.”

“S/O! It is so good to see you again!” Sayaka greeted back, in the most annoying voice that you’ve ever heard in your life. “Sorry that we were late, buuuuuut Leon and I got stopped on the way here by some fans, and we just HAD to take some pictures with them!” You winced as you heard the emphasis she put on the word “fans”, as if to rub it in your face that they were famous and you weren’t. She was doing it on purpose, you could feel it in your bones. It made you want to scream inside.

Leon nodded as he agreed, with a sheepish look on his face. “Yep, hate to disappoint the fans, y’know? But really, we’re sorry. Come on, let’s go now. Are you hungry?”

You were honestly famished after waiting all that time. “Actually. I’m-”

You were interrupted by Sayaka getting in Leon’s face, a pleading look on her face. “Would it be alright if we went in the music store first? I’ve been meaning to get a new tuner.” 

Leon smiled at her. “Sure thing, babe! S/O, you coming?” He and Sayaka were already walking, so all you could do is follow behind them. At least you didn’t have to put on that stupid happy grin for a few minutes as the 3 of you walked around the gigantic mall. You did, however, notice her glance over her shoulder, smirking at you for a quick second before turning her head back to Leon. Oh, his girlfriend was such a bitch. Why was he with her again?

Well, he wasn’t always the “deepest” guy, in fact it wouldn’t be too inaccurate to call him quite shallow. She had everything he’d probably ever wanted in a girl; she was stunning, she was talented, she was insanely popular, and everyone seemed to like her. How could he not fall for her, while you were just some lowly Reserve Course student that he just so happened to take an interest in? He’d compliment you and pay attention to you sometimes, sure, but when Sayaka was around or when Sayaka called he would drop his so called “friend” and bow to her. Sayaka this and Sayaka that. Sayaka, Sayaka, fucking Sayaka. You hated it. You hated how he would talk about how hot her body was, or how good it felt to touch her in various ways, but he could talk about this stuff to you, because you’re just friends, right? 

Oh, whatever. All that did for you is confirm how you definitely won’t be anything more than friends anytime soon. Yes, you longed to be the one to feel his touch. How desperately you wanted to feel his lips on yours, his fingertips sliding up and down your sides, trying to pull you closer to him. “Sayaka who?” Is all you wanted to hear him say to you, before he started kissing slowly down your neck, biting and leaving marks that would surely be there for days.

 Alas, it was just a fantasy, and you were stuck with the couple laughing giddily with each other, listening to samples off various music CDs and commenting on them. It made you want to throw up, but you couldn’t help but think as to why that couldn’t be you. She was not right for him, and you knew it. That made seeing them kissing and forgetting about you-- even when you’re right there-- all the more painful. 

Finally, Sayaka found her way to the tuners, and she said that she would check out and would be right back. 

“Leon, you know you can do better than her.” You said bluntly, but quietly, as she sashayed off. 

“Pfft. What, better than a pop star? Do you think I’m stupid or somethin’?” He laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Get real, what isn’t there to like? I’ve met a lot of ladies, but she’s totally hot, she’s-”

“Rich, popular, blah blah blah, I know, I know.” You interrupted him angrily, rolling your eyes and turning your back from him, shrugging his hand off. You let out an even angrier sigh, trying your best to calm yourself down.

“Yo, are you okay?” His voice lowered. “You’re not still mad about us being late, right?”

“I’m fine.” You grumbled, and walked out of the store, deciding to just wait for them outside. You leaned against the wall, attempting again to calm yourself down. 

“Where are you going?!” So he’d run after you then. Just great. Why was he pretending to care about you now? Didn’t he have a girlfriend to look after? “You don’t look alright to me. Really, what’s wrong?”

“I said nothing, Leon, I’m fine.” You stated again. “Go back to your girlfriend who you love so much.”

“But I don’t...!” He let out a long sigh, crossing his arms. “What is it, did she say something to you? I wanna know!”

“Why do you care?” You snapped, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously you worship the ground she walks on.” 

Leon’s eyes darted back to the door for a second, but he moved closer towards you. His voice got quieter, and his expression got more serious. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you, S/O.” 

You could feel yourself blushing at his sudden closeness, but you couldn’t let yourself lose composure like this, or else he would definitely know how you felt about him. Instead, you avoided eye contact, but you couldn’t help but glance into his eyes occasionally. God, he was so close. You could smell his cologne wafting into your nose, and lord, did he smell good. All you wanted to do was just pull him closer and...

“Leon? Where did you go?”

“Shit!” He whispered and turned around quickly. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush on his face, but now the moment was ruined. “U-Uh, I’m right here!”

“There you are! What are you two talking about?” She asked innocently, her eyes darting back and forth between you two. However, you could tell by her expression that she saw at least something. 

“It was nothing! Nothing at all.” Leon laughed nervously, scratching his neck. You didn’t say anything, just looking away from both of them. 

“Right...” She eyed you suspiciously, before clinging on to her boyfriend’s arm once again. 

Leon cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. “H-Hey, um, do you guys wanna see me hit a few pitches? I know where the batting cage is around here!”

“Sure!” Sayaka chirped as they started to move together again. Well, it was fun while it lasted, but now it looks like you were the 3rd Wheel once more. Just what you always wanted, right? Yay!

As he went to set himself up in the cage, Sayaka turned to you. If looks could kill, you would most definitely be on the floor right now, dead as dust. “I see the way you look at him, you know. You need to stop.”

“Leon’s my friend.” You defended yourself. “We’re just friends. It’s not my fault you cling to him like a crazy bit-”

“Don’t. Say anything. About me. Do you really think he would believe me over you? All I have to do is give him one little night of fun and you’ll be gone so fast your head will spin!”

“I...” You didn’t have a rebuttal, because you knew she was right. You knew for a fact she was correct. After all, she had him, and you didn’t. She already won. “Fine. I’ll leave you both alone then.”

“He doesn’t need you, you know. You’re nothing. He has me. He probably won’t even notice that you’re gone.”

“Shut up.” Your expression darkened, and you balled your fists by your side.

“As if you actually have a shot with someone like him. Please, don’t make me laugh, If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay in your lane.”

Without thinking, you pushed her. She gasped, and she pushed you harder, causing you to fall on the ground with a thud. Leon heard this, and he turned around, his eyes widening as he saw the scene before him. “Huh? What the hell’s going on over there?!”

Sayaka instantly stopped what she was doing and started tearing up, trying to wipe her eyes of tears. People started staring at the both of you as she started to sob. Oh, now you’ve done it.

“S-She h-hit me! Why is she so mean to me?” Sayaka cried, and you could hear the crowd’s disapproval. Leon didn’t say anything as he looked at you pick yourself up and run out of the area.

Specifically, you ran to the nearest restroom, and started to cry to yourself while leaning on the wall. Who were you kidding? Everything she said was the truth. She and Leon were together, and you weren’t in her position, and you probably never would be. Why would you ever allow yourself to gain such an unattainable crush? You felt really, really stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...stupid.

It could’ve been hours, it could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been seconds, you weren’t sure, but you heard someone opening up the door, locking it behind them. Wow, you didn’t even lock the door to the bathroom. How else were you going to mess up today?

“I’m sorry, S/O.” You heard a very familiar voice say softly. You lifted your head up to see the face of the one that you love. You were a bit confused as to why he wasn’t consoling his girlfriend right now, but you were in no mood to argue. 

A bit of silence passed, and he decided to speak up again as you dried your tears. “So, she told me what happened. At least, her side of the story. I should’ve known.”

“Her side...? Y-You mean...?”

“I barely ever believe a word she says anymore.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky you don’t have to hear her whining and complaining every single day. Every time I try bringing you up, it’s like she turns into a total bitch.”

You blinked at him. You could honestly believe what he said, but why would he stay with her then? “But you always seem so in love with each other. You call her hot every single day.”

He shrugged. “She’s attractive, but truthfully, she’s nothing compared to the girl I really want to be with. At least she’s got brains, beauty, and personality.”

“The girl you really want to be with.” You repeated, thinking to yourself. “Who could that be?”

Without warning, he leaned down and connected his lips with yours. Instantaneously, your eyes fluttered to a close, and now you could feel yourself smiling. It just felt so right, being here in his arms. He laughed a little when he felt you smile, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

After a minute or two, you pulled away for air, both of you gasping breathlessly. “But what happened to Sayaka?”

He kissed over your ear, before he whispered into it, “I could do a lot better than Sayaka, don’t you think?”

That was all you needed for you to passionately kiss him again, one of his hands in your hair, with the other one sneakily creeping up your shirt, which you happily let happen.

Looks like fantasies come true after all.

[rogershoe]

Lights, Camera, Action

Part five

(Part four)

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a production assistant on the set of Cursed. The night before your first day at work, you opened your laptop to shockingly realise you’d be working with Daniel Sharman (and a plethora of other amazing actors), someone you’d been watching on screen since you were a teenager. You kept your expectations low, the PAs rarely got to interact with the talent…what was your chance?

Word count: 2.6k

Tag list: @sxperncturalimpala67 @mrsaaronkeener @tinygardensoul @disasterday​ @5am-cigarette @lancelotapricot @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @slytherlight @18somethingpsyche @ceruleanmusings@glxctt@cavillxhenry@lovelyapplessss@hereagainsstuff@linkpk88@aliceperdida@weeping-redemption@magicalsaladnacho@lancelotapricot@ineedyourskulls@fandomarstrash@cheythefangirl @pure-ghost @estrielle @tessxblxckthorn @isaac-lahey-is-bae​ @bubblyanis​ @proudhufflepuff77​

Warnings: age gap between reader and Daniel, swearing, blood/fear of blood, reader gets injured (cut on her finger), slow burn

Notes: This chapter is a lot shorter than the last one but also definitely more exciting!! I hope you guys like it and plzz lmk in the comments whether this was alright or not! I know that the plot of this part is a bit exaggerated but bare with me hahaha

You looked at Daniel and found that he had closed his eyes and Jasmine was dabbing a bit of powder over his T zone…probably to absorb the excess oil that she had proudly told you he didn’t have. 

“Do you do a lot of makeup yourself?” Jasmine asked you

“Not usually but sometimes I guess” you said

“So you know all the different brushes?”

 You thought back to the hours of mindless makeup videos you would spend hours watching at 3:00 am when you couldn’t sleep. 

“Yep, I do actually” you said confidently. Thank god you weren’t completely clueless in this new endeavour.

“Oh awesome! That’ll make all of this so much easier Y/N”

You laughed, happy that you were doing something right. You honestly just could’ve spent this whole time looking at Daniel but you obviously didn’t want to seem like a creep. You wondered if he recognised you from the battery station or his trailer. Not likely…you doubted that your face was all that memorable. 

“Can you pass me the spoolie?” she said, closing the powder and putting it on the counter. “It’s in the first drawer”

You quickly opened the drawer, and bent down to look through it. You were uncomfortably self conscious of how close you were to Daniel, your hips were almost brushing against his chair. 

Thankfully you spotted the spoolie and grabbed it, standing up straight and using your free hand to close the drawer. As you turned to give it to Jasmine, you took the opportunity to glance at Daniel. What you didn’t anticipate was to find his piercing eyes looking right back at you. His lips turned up and he smiled slightly at you. A small smile spread across your face and you felt your cheeks heat up.

 You hoped he didn’t notice you blushing and quickly turned away as Jasmine took the tool from your hand. You looked at her and saw her narrowing her eyes suspiciously at you. Trying to act natural, you looked around to see Cassandra walking back to you from talking to an extra across the trailer. Although she was one of the head make-up artists, she didn’t seem that old at all and looked to be in her early thirties.

“How’s it going Y/N? Not too overwhelmed I hope?” she said, a snide smirk on her face.

You swallowed slightly and attempted to sport a carefree smile on yours, “No, not yet”

She ignored your answer and instead went to look at Daniel. 

“Oh your beard needs a quick trim” she said laughing

Daniel smiled, “Do you have to? I’m trying to grow it out” he said laughing and running a hand across his jaw. You could tell by his expression that he was joking. 

Cassandra giggled like a little school girl making you raise your eyebrows and your stomach lurch. You could tell she was enjoying working with Daniel just as much as you

“Y/N, pass me the facial scissor” 

You looked towards the counter where she was pointing and saw a tin full of multiple small scissors, some open some closed. As you wrapped your fingers around one of the tools, you felt a sharp pain on your index finger and quickly pulled your hand away, the scissor clattering onto the floor. As you had snatched your hand from the tin, the scissor had probably dragged across your finger, making your injury deeper and longer. You looked at your finger, beads of blood falling from the deep cut and cursed under your breath. Why did you have to be so fucking clumsy?

You looked at the floor and saw the scissor at Daniel’s feet, where he was already picking it up. 

“ Oh god…I’m so sorry” you said and grabbed a tissue to try to dab the blood away. You looked at Daniel through the mirror and saw him looking at you. 

“Are you okay?” he said, and for a second after hearing his voice, you forgot all about your bleeding finger.

Before you could respond, Cassandra interrupted you, “I’m sure she’s fine…right Y/N?”

You nodded clutching your finger and trying not to wince, the pain was slowly increasing.

“Go and get cleaned up Y/N” she said, her face showing sincerity…whether it was real or not you couldn’t tell. 

“Thank you” you were about to leave when you heard Jasmine’s voice, 

“Can I go with her Cassandra?”

“Of course not…who else is supposed to help me if you’re gone too?”

You ignored her response and walked out of the trailer thankful that at least there was one person in there who liked you. 

When you got outside you weren’t surprised to find your vision going slightly hazy. You could watch hours of gory, bloody fights and killing on your TV but the second you saw anyone, (especially yourself) bleeding in real life, your warped brain suddenly decided it was time for you to start fainting. 

You walked to the side of the tall trailer and leaned against the vehicle, taking deep breaths. The metal was still wet from the rain this morning and so was the ground. Your head started throbbing and you hoped with everything that no one would walk out of the trailer and see you. The only people who had seen you before like this were your parents and Talia…it was rare for you to bleed anyways. 

For some reason your vision and head weren’t getting any better. It was probably the lack of sleep or food and water you had had since you had stupidly decided to skip breakfast this morning. You knew you had to sit down so you walked to the edge of the trailer farther from the door and sat on the tarmac. It was wet and you felt the water soak through your jeans. You put your elbows on your bent knees and your throbbing head in your hands. It was only your second week and you were already lightheaded. If only you had been more careful while grabbing the stupid scissor. 

You tried not to look at your finger that was now wrapped in the thin tissue you had hurriedly grabbed. That was probably a bad idea since the rough material would most likely start to stick to the blood. You took a deep breath and glanced at your finger to see the tissue was soaked through..how deadly was that scissor?

You suddenly heart footsteps coming towards you and quickly looked up, scared to see who it was. You breath caught in your throat and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating when you saw Daniel’s face come into view. Oh god….out of all the people it had to be him?

“Fuck, are you okay?”, you saw his lips move as he came over to you and knelt down.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine” you said and looked at him. Even in your awful state you noticed the way one strand of his hair fell across his face and how soft his dark blue hoodie looked. 

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah…definitely” you lied. To prove yourself right, you swallowed and put your uninjured hand on the ground and stood up. Of course you did it too fast and suddenly your vision went blurry again. You reached out a hand to lean it against the trailer but instead of feeling the cold metal of the vehicle, you felt warm skin. You looked up quickly to find that Daniel had taken your hand in his. Now that you were standing you were even more intimidated by how his tall figure towered above you. For a second that felt like minutes, you stared at both your hands….was he seriously holding yours right now? Maybe it was a sick illusion your brain had conjured up. 

“Oh no you aren’t” he said laughing slightly. He looked at the door of the trailer before gripping your hand tighter with his long fingers, probably afraid that you’d collapse again. Nevermind, it definitely wasn’t an illusion. Your heart beat faster because of the close proximity you two were in. 

“I think you should come with me” he said looking worried.

“What? No, I can’t” you said shaking your head, the concrete dancing underneath your eyes. 

You looked up at him and saw the confused look on his face, your head still throbbing, “Cassandra would kill me”

You saw the glint in his eyes as he grinned slightly, “Cassandra? I’ll deal with her…we need to get some fluid into your body or you could faint”

You knew he was right, you were just scared that if you were alone with him you might just end up fainting anyways. 

“It’s okay…honestly, I can just go get some water myself” you said not wanting to trouble him, he probably had to get back to the trailer anyways. 

“I have water in my trailer, I was on my way there to get my phone anyways”

You smiled through your pain and gave in, “Okay…thank you”

He smiled and started walking towards his trailer. You found yourself gripping his hand tightly, not because you wanted to but because you had to. Your knees felt like they would give away if you didn’t. The fact that it was Daniel Sharman’s hand was just a huge plus. 

Once you finally got to his trailer he stopped by the stairs and gestured for you to go in. You smiled gratefully and stumbled up the stairs into the familiar trailer. Your head was getting better now as Daniel had almost completely distracted you from your cut. 

He came inside behind you but didn’t close the door. 

“You wanna wash that up?” he said looking at the cut and grimacing slightly. He gestured to the door that you had suspected would lead to the bathroom.

You blushed and looked down at it, completely and utterly embarrassed. It was bloody and disgusting. 

You rushed into the bathroom and slowly peeled the tissue away, wincing at the pain. The blood had dried up and pulled at your torn skin. It hurt and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away quickly. You finally got it off and threw it into the toilet and then flushed it (not wanting to dirty his dustbin). 

You turned the tap on and ran your finger underneath it, closing your eyes in pleasure at the cool stream. 

“Do you need help?” you heard his voice from outside the bathroom.

“No no..I’m alright” you said quickly. He had already wasted so much of his time on you so you tried to hurry up and closed the tap. The bleeding had thankfully almost stopped but the cut was still raw. 

You walked outside and found him bending down looking through a mini fridge. 

“Oh good you’re okay” he said smiling and gesturing to the purple couch, “sit down”

He pulled a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and handed it to you, “Here Y/N”

Your eyes widened when he said your name. 

You grabbed the cold bottle, “You know my name?”. As soon as you realised what you had said in your hazy state you looked down and wanted to slap yourself. Had you really just asked him that?

He laughed showing his teeth and you couldn’t help but smile as well when he sat beside you on the other side of the couch, “Of course I do….Cassandra said it like ten times”

For some reason your heart ached at her mention. 

You suddenly felt a wetness where you were sitting and remembered the ground had been completely wet where you had sat down. You hurriedly got up and looked at the couch which was now also damp where you had been sitting. Fuck, you had lost count of how many times you had embarrassed yourself in front of Daniel just today. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry” you said, and clasped a hand over your mouth

“Oh no, it’s fine” he said sporting a confused expression. 

“It was raining outside” you said hurriedly, not wanting him to think it was some other accident.

He looked at you a soft grin on his face, “I know, don’t worry”, his voice was oddly soothing, calming your nerves almost immediately. 

He walked to a cupboard near the bathroom and pulled out a towel. He placed it on the damp spot.

“There we go” he said smiling. He put his hands on his hips, looking at you and then towards the couch, “you can sit now”

You did but decided you had bothered him enough for one day.

“I should get going now…I’m so sorry for troubling you” you said getting ready to get up. 

“Wait your cut…and drink some before you get up” Daniel said softly, pointing to the bottle in your hand. You opened it and took a sip, you could feel the sweet cold liquid travel down your throat and through your chest. You took another.

“Feels good doesn’t it?’ he said from his position on the counter. From what could you see, he was rummaging through his wallet. He pulled out a large bandage and came over to you.

“Here…it won’t do much but it’ll keep the cut covered until you can get it wrapped by the medic inside the studio” he quipped handing it to you. 

“Thank you so much…seriously” 

“Do you need help putting it on?” he said grabbing his phone and putting it into his back pocket. 

“Oh no, I’ll manage….I’m sorry again”

“I have to go now but you stay here as long as you like, okay?” he said. 

“Thanks” you said smiling, who knew he would be so nice?

“Oh and do me one favour” he said grinning, as he was making his way out the door.

“Anything” you replied, curious to hear what he had in mind.

“Stop apologising” he laughed, before leaving the trailer. 

You smiled widely to yourself. 

Had this all really just happened? Seeing Daniel was insane in itself but actually interacting with him? You honestly still didn’t understand how you got a word out of your mouth. He seemed intimidating, but when he spoke to you, his voice was soothing and you felt like you could’ve talked to him forever. You looked down in awe at the hand he had held. You knew you were acting like a crazy fangirl, but you couldn’t surpress your emotions all the time. 

You snapped back to reality when you felt your cut suddenly sting. He had said there was a medic inside the studio. You got up quickly, Cassandra was probably wondering where you were and you had to get your finger wrapped first. 

8:12 am

You took a deep breath as you walked up the stairs of the make up trailer to Cassandra, Jasmine, and Daniel. You hoped that Cassandra wouldn’t be mad at you for taking so long. You hadn’t realised how bad the cut actually was until you took it to the on set medic and he wrapped your fingers in who knows how many layers of gauze. 

Your heartbeat accelerated as you opened the door slowly. You thankfully calmed down when you saw that everyone was loud and bustling around, no one had even noticed you had entered. You walked over to Daniel’s chair, where Jasmine was looking closely at the mirror. As you got closer you saw that there were multiple pictures of the weeping monk stuck into the frame of the mirror. She whipped her head around when she saw you in the mirror. 

“Y/N!” A worried expression adorned her face, “are you okay?”

“Oh yeah I’m fine…It looks worse than it really is” you said waving your finger in the air to show her. 

“Are you sure? Are you okay to help us?”

“Oh yeah definitely” you said scoffing, “It’s nothing”

She smiled, “Okay good”

You looked in the mirror at Daniel. He was looking at you, a knowing smile on his face. You looked away. You still couldn’t believe that he had seen you in such a flustered and sick state. It had been exciting when he had helped you but now you realised that he probably thought you were some kind off freak, going berserk over such a small amount of blood. 

All of a sudden feelings of sadness, anger and embarrassment flooded over you. Sadness because this was essentially the first impression that Daniel had of you, and anger directed towards yourself for freaking out like you did.

[beca-mitchell]

if you wanted to, girl, we could cross that line (1/1)

Summary: Aren't you supposed to book the wedding venue after proposing? Word count: 3,316 words Author’s Notes: I’ve been thinking about recent discussion re: Chloe and Beca's relationship. Specifically how Chloe hates it when people think Beca is some uncaring/apathetic person. Or that Beca is aloof and distant in their romantic relationship. I had some ideas about that, but then it kind of spiralled into this which I don't even know if it addresses any of that discourse at all. But. Anyway. I've been binging Friends, so yes, this is totally inspired by Season 6, episode 22 (and a little of episode 23) of Friends. Fic title from Lauv's "Feelings".

Read below or on AO3.

* * * * *

“Aubrey this place is beautiful,” Chloe gasps, looking around the high ceilings and well-decorated walls of the country club lounge. “You’re really thinking about moving The Lodge to California?”

Aubrey flips through the brochure, nodding along to Chloe’s words. “It seems like a natural choice. Would be nice to expand out here. Lots of companies need their morale boosted.”

Chloe nudges Aubrey. “I’m happy for you, you know? You’ve done so much in the past few years.”

“Chloe,” Aubrey sighs. “Thank you.”

“And I’m so glad you didn’t move to Mykonos and become a doula.”

Aubrey frowns. “I don’t remember saying that.” She flips to the next page of her brochure. “Oh! Chloe, look! They host weddings here!”

Chloe shifts to lean over Aubrey’s shoulder to examine the glossy pages. “Oh wow, I’m sure they must be beautiful here. Expensive too. Oh!” Chloe points to the next page. “They can even host guests overnight.”

“Perfect for corporate retreats,” Aubrey muses.

“Or weddings,” Chloe says, tugging Aubrey’s arm along. “Just think about it. A beautiful day...a little bit of a breeze." Chloe sighs, somewhat wistfully, lost in her own world for a moment. "You’d look beautiful in the dress I have picked out for you.”

“Oh is this your wedding we’re talking about?”

To Aubrey’s immense surprise, Chloe glances away, clearly embarrassed. “I mean. It could be anybody’s wedding. I was just. Throwing it out there. You know.”

“Were you picturing yourself in the wedding dress?”

Again, hesitation from Chloe. “...Maybe.”

Aubrey moves so she’s standing in front of Chloe. “Hey, what’s this all about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You,” Aubrey gestures with a stern tone. “Getting all weird and shy about weddings of all things.”

It wasn’t that Chloe was fanatic about weddings, it was more that Aubrey knew Chloe was a complete romantic. And passionate about literally everything, on top of that. Plus, Aubrey, in her capacity as Chloe’s de facto best friend, knew just how much Chloe wanted a fairytale wedding. It was something that some people grew out of—Aubrey would know, being all about practicality—but it was also something that followed people and nestled within their hopes and dreams like a permanent reminder of what optimism and sunshine could bring.

Chloe is the embodiment of both of those things and Aubrey is fortunate enough to have experienced such a person in her lifetime.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Chloe begins, going for nonchalance which Aubrey disregards completely. “I just. I—I’ve been dating Beca for a year and a half. And then soon it’s going to be two years. And then...more.”

“That’s how time works, usually.”

Chloe glares at her. “It’s just. Beca isn’t...I don’t think she wants to get married.”

“Has she said that to you?” Aubrey demands, surprised that even Beca of all people would have so little tact to say that to Chloe specifically. Chloe who has had her wedding planned since she was in second grade. Chloe, who would go to the ends of the earth for Beca Mitchell’s smug, talented ass.

“No! No, God, Beca is amazing. And she—” Chloe sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s what everybody thinks. Beca isn’t like that, okay? She loves me and she’s in love with me. There’s no doubt about it.” Aubrey shoots her a skeptical look. “You’re so unfair,” Chloe complains, upon seeing Aubrey’s expression. “She’s an amazing girlfriend. Honestly. Everybody thinks that she’s this distant, emotionless little...” Chloe makes a noise of frustration. “Well, she’s not. She’s passionate and beautiful and so so good at that thing she—”

“Chloe!”

Chloe blushes. “Sorry. But it’s not that. I promise.”

“Then where did...all this come from?”

“Well, I just don’t want to...freak her out.”

“Freak her out,” Aubrey echoes, contemplating the word choice and wondering whether she really does need to talk to Beca about her lack of decorum. “Has she said that to you?” she demands again.

“No!”

“Then—?”

“I just. I know I can be a lot, okay? I know that I want things too much sometimes. And that I can get loud and crazy about things. But I want to…” Chloe glances around. “I want to spend the rest of my life with Beca and I don’t want anything to mess that up.”

“Why would you two getting married mess that up?”

“Um? Hello? Has she not complained about her parents before?”

Aubrey can concede to that. “Once or twice. But I mean...we’re not all defined by our parents’ mistakes.” Chloe shoots her a look. “Okay, you know what? This isn’t about me.”

Chloe giggles, relenting. She kicks her toe against the ground, following the movement with her eyes. “I just know that Beca isn’t thinking about getting married. We just moved in together.”

“Like two months ago,” Aubrey mutters.

“More like four months ago!”

“Oh, but who’s counting?”

Chloe flashes a quick smile. “Yeah, it’s been four months hasn’t it?” She softens. “I love living with Beca. And I love L.A.! Oh—and of course I love that you’re going to be moving here.” She pulls Aubrey in for a quick hug, right in the middle of the hall. “It’s just...everything is coming together. I love my life just the way it is.”

“Chloe—”

It is that moment that a couple decides to make their way through the hall, led by a man holding a clipboard. He appears to be listing off amenities and accommodations.

“—host many weddings a year, especially during June. You are very lucky to get on the waiting list.”

Chloe, never one to really acknowledge social customs, somehow manages to insert herself into the conversation midway. “Is there a long list?” she asks conversationally, a hint of amusement in her tone. She tugs Aubrey along despite Aubrey’s attempts to mind her own business.

The wedding planner scrutinizes their intertwined hands. “Are you two ladies looking to have a wedding?”

Chloe tilts her head before turning to look at Aubrey with a glint in her eyes. “And if we are?”

“Chloe!” Aubrey hisses.

“Well, the wait list is about two years long, so you’ll have to get in line.”

* * * * *

“What was that about loving your life the way it was?”

“It wasn’t serious. I just won’t ever contact them again.”

“Yes, putting yours and Beca’s names down for a wedding venue wasn’t serious.”

“Think of it as a way to drum up some press for when you host corporate retreats there.”

“How does this help me? This absolutely in no way helps me at all.”

* * * * *

Chloe forgets about her little relapse until two weeks later. She and Beca decide to go for a nice dinner at the country club—a place where Beca can maintain some anonymity while they engage in things that Beca would prefer prying eyes to keep away from.

Namely kissing.

“You haven’t touched your dinner,” Chloe murmurs. She smiles as she catches Beca’s next kiss head-on, tilting her head ever so slightly to elicit the quietest of whimpers from Beca’s throat.

“You haven’t touched yours.”

Chloe tenses her fingers, splayed on Beca’s thigh. “Maybe I’m more interested in my dessert.”

Beca blushes immediately and clears her throat, drawing back to take in Chloe’s swollen lips and playful smile. “I’m so happy that you’re mine,” Beca drawls, reaching up to cup Chloe’s cheeks. “But you have to stop saying shit like that in public.”

“Why do I have to stop saying shit like that in public?” Chloe asks innocently, letting her lips and tongue emphasize the word shit while her hand glides further up Beca’s thigh.

Beca’s eyes darken further. She hums, leaning in to capture Chloe’s lips in another kiss. “You don’t play fair,” she complains when Chloe finally draws back and refocuses on her plate of untouched food.

“But you just get so cute and flustered,” Chloe points out. “How can I resist?”

Later, as they are leaving, Chloe barely has time to recall just why she recognizes the man walking towards them before he is greeting them both.

“Hi, Chloe, right? I just left a message on your phone earlier this evening. I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Chloe opens her mouth, recognition dawning. “Oh it’s—”

“Hi,” Beca cuts in. “What message?” she asks curiously.

“It’s nothing,” Chloe says quickly, an unpleasant heat spreading quickly through her body. “I’ll check later,” she says politely.

“Of course! It wasn’t anything serious. Just letting you know that your position on the wedding venue waitlist got bumped up because we had a few cancellations in the past two weeks. We’re looking at much sooner than two years. Probably within the next year if you want to remain on the list.”

“The what?” Beca demands. “Chloe, the—” Beca looks like her eyes might pop right out of her head. “Chloe,” she hisses, following as Chloe quickly mutters a thank-you and tugs Beca’s wrist along until they reach Chloe’s car. “What the fu—”

“Don’t curse,” Chloe whispers.

Beca presses her lips into a thin line. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. Are you mad?”

“I’m just confused,” Beca murmurs, sliding into the passenger seat. “Are we getting married?”

“No!” Chloe exclaims quickly. “No, of course not—”

“Of course not?” Beca echoes. “What—”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just—it was just a dumb thing. Can we…” Chloe rests her hand on the steering wheel. “Can we talk about it when we get home?”

Beca stares out the window for a few long moments while Chloe pulls out on the main road. “Okay,” she finally agrees. “Okay, we’ll talk when we get home.”

The drive home itself is the longest and shortest of Chloe’s life. She shifts uncomfortably more than once, resisting the urge to look over at her girlfriend every two minutes. Scratch that. Every two seconds. She can’t believe that she forgot. That she wasn’t more careful. That a brief, silly moment with her best friend resulted in this. Whatever this is between herself and Beca right now.

It’s the last thing she wants, to have potentially messed something up in their life together.

When Chloe pulls into the private parking lot for their apartment complex, Chloe finds that she doesn’t want to leave the quiet of the car.

“Chlo,” Beca urges softly. “Let’s go inside.”

“I just wanted to see what it was like,” Chloe blurts, too stricken to restrain herself any longer. “I’m sorry.”

Beca reaches out to hold her hand across the console like Chloe wishes she had done during the drive home. The comforting feeling of Beca’s hand in her own makes Chloe look up, finally meeting Beca’s eyes for the first time since leaving the country club.

“Let’s just go inside,” Beca repeats, squeezing her hand.

Chloe hates that she feels too frazzled to correctly read Beca’s expression. She can’t figure out just what Beca is feeling or thinking and she hates that. She hates not knowing the one person she feels like she knows better than any other person on Earth.

“So...like.” Beca exhales, taking the keys from Chloe’s hands and placing them in their little shared bowl. “What did you mean? You just wanted to see what it was like? How do you just see what it’s like to reserve a wedding venue?”

Chloe bites her lip, still afraid to meet Beca’s eyes. She focuses instead on the flowery B&C engraving on their key bowl. It warms her. Comforts her. “I mean...it’s not really a wedding venue. It’s just a country club,” she points out evasively.

Beca snorts. “Where weddings are sometimes hosted.”

“Well. Yeah.”

“And you specifically put your name down—our names down—for a wedding. Sometime in the future.”

Chloe groans at that, covering her face with her hands. “Aubrey pressured me into it,” she lies, wondering if Beca will believe that.

Beca stifles a smile, instead choosing to step closer to Chloe in order to pry her hands from her face. “I bet she did.”

“You’re freaking out,” Chloe mumbles from behind her hands, though she does part two fingers in order to peer at Beca. “You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

“I mean...I was,” Beca admits. “That was kind of…” Beca ponders her word choice. “Sudden,” she finally says with a delicate tone.

Chloe sighs. “I know it freaks you out when I do...stuff like that.”

At that, Beca frowns. “Do stuff like what?”

“I don’t know. Think about the future. Talk about this kind of stuff.”

Beca’s heart seizes for the briefest of moments. “I don’t want you to think that I’m not…” she swallows. “That I’m not, like, into that. Because I am.” She reaches for Chloe’s hands, pulling gently. “With you.” She bites her lower lip. “I hadn’t thought about it much before you, but it—” Beca laughs, a little breathlessly. “It drives me crazy that we haven’t talked about it, you know?”

“I just thought you weren’t…” Chloe shrugs, though her heart pounds at all of the words Beca has just thrown at her. “That it wasn’t something you wanted.”

“That was before you,” Beca reiterates.

Chloe feels a flush rising up her neck and spreading into her cheeks rapidly. “Beca…”

Beca, to her credit, does not flinch nor shy away. Chloe has been privileged enough to get to know this side of Beca over the past year and a half and especially over the past four months of living together. She is smitten and completely head-over-heels for Beca Mitchell and she doesn’t care if anybody knows that. That being said, she completely understands that Beca might not necessarily be the same, at least in terms of expressing herself outwardly (“Love languages are a thing, Beca!”) but she has never doubted that Beca cares for her. Loves her, even.

Beca is in love with her.

The thought only makes her blush again and offer a shy, demure smile at Beca who merely looks perplexed at the sudden change in mood. “What?” Beca asks quickly. “What is it? What did I say?”

“Nothing,” Chloe chimes in, shifting so that she can wrap an arm around Beca’s shoulders. “Well, not nothing. For you, that was basically a public and cheesy romantic gesture. Like declaration-on-a-billboard level.”

Beca scrunches her nose. “What was?”

Chloe pecks her quickly, enjoying how squirmy Beca is becoming in her arms. “You saying that you think about the future with me.”

“I don’t know if I said it exactly like that.”

“A little like that,” Chloe pushes. She leans in to kiss Beca slowly, letting her breath linger against Beca’s mouth. “A little bit,” she murmurs when she feels Beca take a breath, likely to protest again.

“Okay, maybe I did.”

Chloe relaxes completely, wondering how she got so lucky to fall in love with her perfect match; how she got so lucky to find her soulmate in a world full of people who refused to believe in love like she did. That was a relatively painless conversation, resulting in some unexpected results. Namely that Chloe had been the only one standing in the way of this much-needed conversation, but also that Beca Mitchell wanted to marry her.

The thought only makes Chloe deepen her kiss, eliciting a noise of surprise from Beca. They kiss for a few more moments, hands beginning to wander more boldly and surely as their kisses deepen with each passing second. Beca groans when Chloe’s hands slip under the front of her shirt, fingers scraping up her stomach with purpose.

“Are we still talking about this?” Beca asks, snagging Chloe’s lower lip between her teeth.

Chloe hums, tilting her head to capture Beca’s lips in another kiss. “That can wait.”

“I mean,” Beca begins breathlessly, allowing Chloe to steer her towards the bedroom. “You are next on the waitlist.”

Chloe is already unbuttoning her jeans. “You talk way too much. Shut up, now. I want you.”

* * * * *

Another two weeks later and Chloe has all but forgotten about that wedding venue mishap, too caught up in the motions of her own hectic life and just how good her relationship with Beca has become. She hadn’t thought it possible, but she falls more for Beca every day.

“I can’t believe my girlfriend is ditching me to hang out with my best friend,” Chloe pouts. “This is so unfair. My two favorite people.”

“You could come,” Beca laughs.

“No, you know I have a long shift today.” Chloe sighs. “I’ll miss you. Say hi to Aubrey for me. I know she’s been busy setting up work stuff. Ask her if she needs our help.”

“I will ask her if she needs your help,” Beca says obediently.

“Our help,” Chloe corrects, leaning down to kiss Beca on the lips. “See you!”

Chloe heads out the door, without much thought as to the rest of her day.

Beca waits until she hears complete silence, then she waits for another few minutes estimating how long it would take Chloe to get into her car and drive.

Beca she’s gone, hurry up and get over here

Aubrey Rude. On my way.

Beca rushes to get ready in preparation for her day with Aubrey.

“What did you think of the place?” Aubrey asks when Beca climbs into the car. “Did you like the photos?”

“Yeah, but I kind of want to see it for myself. In person.”

Aubrey scoffs. “Chloe has amazing taste and so do I. We would never lead you astray.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Forgive me for wanting to see the place where I want to get married myself.”

“Beca, you don’t exactly strike me as the kind of person—”

Beca resists the urge to completely snap at Aubrey or say something snarky to cut off the other woman. She fiddles with the small box inside her jacket pocket before she pulls it out, running her fingers along the velvet surface. She smiles at the thought of Chloe’s expression—what her imagination provides at least—and suddenly she can’t quite wait another moment. She wants to marry Chloe immediately. She wants everything that she always thought she’d hate because of her parents’ own failed marriage. She wants that life and that future with Chloe and she wants it because she knows it’ll work.

It will work because they love each other.

Aubrey gasps loudly, pulling the car off to the side of the road and throwing her hazard lights on. “Beca! You didn’t!” She all but snatches the box from Beca’s grasp, both of them tussling over it for a brief moment before Aubrey finally shoves her shoulder and displaces Beca back into her seat. “Oh my God, you actually bought a ring. Without talking to me. Beca! How could you!”

“I didn’t know I needed your permission to buy a ring.”

Aubrey ignores her, opening the box. Her eyes widen comically and if Beca’s heart weren’t completely in her throat because it is now dawning on Beca that she absolutely craves Aubrey’s approval, Beca would laugh. But she doesn’t. She waits with bated breath as Aubrey lifts the ring closer to her face, eyes practically glittering.

“Are you...okay?” Beca asks. Is it okay? she wants to ask, but refrains.

“This is...beautiful, Beca. This is so beautiful.”

Beca exhales, feeling an entire year’s worth of tension leave her body. “For real? Like you’re not just...saying that, right?”

“No, Beca, I’m not just saying that. This is beautiful. And...and I’m so happy for you.” Aubrey presses the ring back into Beca’s hands before moving to grip the steering wheel with determination.

Beca waits, watching Aubrey for a long moment before she speaks up again. “Are we gonna go, or—?”

“I just need a moment to collect myself.”

“Oh, okay.” Beca flips the box open again, smiling at the ring. “Take all the time you need.”

She has never been more ready.

fin.

[theodora3022]

Cursed? No, Loved.

Pairing: Prince! Hitoshi Shinsou x F! reader

Summary: Being tossed into the suitor tournament as a pawn by his father, Hitoshi didn’t expect you to love him, at all.

Notes: So...this is a little headcanon collection I did after writing the Shoto fanasy AU piece. I got no inspiraration whatsoever, so the quality is meh. Would write a part 2 but no ideas head empty now... No yandere in this though, just how I want to cherish this precious purple boy.

Warning: fluff, past trauma?

Ever since he can remember, the whole Kingdom seen Hitoshi as an evil being. Because his mother died giving birth to him, the youngest prince was seen as cursed.

He was sent to the State church once he was able to walk, so his relationship with his family is somewhat estranged.

“To purify your curse.” What curse? 

It was not his fault the Queen died...

The church treated him fairly, prepared him for a priest career, taught him how to paint,sculpt, and music. Surprisingly, the prince got artistic talents and excels in arts. 

Then one day his father suddenly told him that he is going to your kingdom to serve as an ambassador, or more explicitly, to join the suitor tournament. 

However, Hitoshi is content with his current life. He got no thirst for power, nor did he desire to be the center of attention. Secluded, quiet monastery life had made him into a shy person. He can never be as bold as his oldest brother or be as charming as his second brother.

But he has to follow his father’s orders. He doesn’t have much attachemnt to his country anyways.

You greeted him with politeness and a warm smile. You do not seem to mind how he is “cursed”, treating him fairly as a guest.

You found him interesting, as he never flatters or praise you. He barely even makes eye contact with you.

Not the one for parties, after two dances Hitoshi decides to spend time in the castle gardens. 

By the light of the only candle you held, you saw the melancholic prince sitting on the bench in the gazebo. Moonlight pouring a layer of white frost on him, reminds you of the moon gods from the legends.

“Prince Hitoshi. Not enjoying the ball?”· 

 “I could ask you the same thing, your majesty. This is your coronation ball, after all. I’m just here for some fresh air.”

“The food and drinks are not to your taste, then?”·

 “They are thoughtfully prepared, though I must apologize for my lack of appetite. Are you enjoying this scenery as well, your majesty?”·       “Quite, when the sun is out, you can see the whole capital within a glance. Although I would not recommend here on a rainy day since the ivy-ceiling is not so waterproof.” That was a bad joke. But instead of laugh at it regardless like others, Hitoshi did not even smile.

“I imagine it will be even more beautiful after it rains. Your capital, covered in misty rain… I am an artist; therefore I think I would like to see both sides of beauty.” His eyes are closed, seems has started to sketch a picture in his mind. 

What a strange man. You thought. He seems to care more about his paintings then State diplomacy.

“Your majesty? Do I have something on my face?”

His voice pulled her back from her imagination. You realized you had been staring rather openly. “My apologies for staring, Prince Hitoshi. Would you do me the honor of join me in a dance? I bet they are looking for me already.” Glancing over your shoulder towards the ball room, you let out a sigh. Somehow, you do not know what his response will be. It seems he was enjoying his imagination of raining days more.

“The pleasure is all mine, your majesty.” 

“Thank you, I do hope I can undo my insolence somehow.” Letting him take your arm, you both marched back towards the ballroom, where the band of musicians were just playing some intermediate songs to avoid awkwardness.

“Do you hate being the center of attention, your highness?”

“I can’t say I enjoy it. I prefer the gazebo, but you had offered me a dance, your majesty.”

“My apologies for dragging you here.”

“Your suitors are burning holes on me with their eyes.” Hitoshi said when you arrived at the center of the room, bowed to each other before the waltz. His voice is no more then a whisper. “Are you sure those aren’t gazes of admiration?” You tease when his left arm lightly wraps around her shoulder blades.

“Hmm, if I am a woman, I will feel troubled by this.” He opens his palm slightly to allow your gloved hand to place on. You try to study his current expression, but you can only see worriedness in those lavender orbs. He still has the usual stoic face.

He requested to paint your capital from that gazebo, and you said yes, telling him that he could came in sunny afternoons.

You would drop by to chat in your break times, although he is not talkative, his presence is oddly calming for you.

Hitoshi is surprised but glad that you enjoy his company. Even back in the Church, people seem to avoid him like the plague. Interacting with him as little as possible.

“Why do you want to spend your free time with me, your majesty? I know how busy you are...”

Taking him by the hand, you sigh. “Even a Queen needs a break every now and then.” His fingers are littered with callous, from those 4 hour harp pratices.

You already learned why he was sent here, how his people treated him even he don’t deserve any of it. He was an infant, how can he intentionally caused the death of his mother?

No more of that, not if you can help it. Hitoshi had suffered enough colored view, enough cold treatments. 

You decides to make up for it, for all the affections he could have gotten throughout the years.

[destroy-the-cannon]

Title Pending Olivia x MC Fic, Chapter two

Hellooo! I’d like to start off with a quick apology. I had a bunch of family drama this week, so I’m aware that this chapter is a bit lackluster. I swear  that it’s not just a lack of talent! That’s only like ten percent of the problem! Anyways, here it is! 

Warnings: Sexual language, cursing.

Story Tags: (Eventual) lemon, slow burn, enemies to lovers, angst.

Taglist: @kingliam2019 , @kamilahsayeet2063

“Woah.”

Maxwell was craning his neck to inspect Paige’s outfit from where she stood on the steps. It felt strangely like a grown-up prom, gliding down the stairwell with all eyes on her (well, Maxwell’s eyes). She gave a little twirl, showing off her devastatingly expensive gown. The gown she’d had to buy herself. You’d think that riding with a noble would mean that they’d be willing to shell out a dime or two, but alas, she’d spent her own damn money on this. Not that she was bitter or anything.

She’d gone with the angel outfit. A glittery, cold shouldered bodice gave way to heavy skirts of layered tulle and silk. A delicate lacey mask fit over her eyes, and a fluffy little halo floated above her head. She felt genuinely angelic, like she could float right around the room.

“Man, you look amazing! You’ll definitely get the ladies in court talking.”

It was the night of the first ball of the season. Just a day ago, Paige had hopped on a plane and flown out to Cordonia. She was staying in the palace with all the other nobles until the tour started up. They were set to move all around the country to the various duchies of the various suitors. In the meantime, Paige was staying in a fabulous room in the back of the palace she’d spent all last night marveling at. Now, she was marching down to the introductory ball with Maxwell by her side. It was a masquerade event, hence the angel outfit. She was set to make an excellent first impression, something that was crucial to building the flawless reputation she was determined to possess. According to Drake, she was about to walk into a room full of bloodthirsty snobs, so it was important to look the part of a future queen. Her wardrobe was her armour, Hana had said.

Hana. That was the name of the girl Paige had met in the dressing room, who happened to be the fourth of those five people who would one day change her life. The two had gotten dressed and acquainted, and Paige was hoping to run into her at the ball. She had been sweet, helpful, informative, and gorgeous. What was it with the people there? She had never seen such a consistent concentration of ridiculously hot people in her life.

“Okay. It’s time.” They stopped in front of the ornate golden doors. Maxwell turned to her, adjusting his mask. “Before we get into the actual ball, you’ll need to give the herald your full name when we go in. Since you’re with my family, you could technically be considered a Lady. You’ll give him your name, and he’ll announce you as Lady Paige…?”

“Langley. Lady Paige Langley.”

“Hm. Not exactly traditional, but regal enough.”

With that, he pushed open the doors, and they strolled in. Paige gave her name to the herald, and stood as straight as she could on the steps. Maxwell gave her a quick, reassuring smile, and she felt slightly better. He was good at that.

“LORD MAXWELL PERCIVAL BEAUMONT, AND LADY PAIGE LANGLEY!” The herald’s voice boomed through the enormous room. At the sound of an unfamiliar name, heads turned to watch Paige strut down the stairs. Little gasps and murmurs rippled through the room as they stared at her. She resisted the urge to tug at her hair or adjust her halo. Any move that betrayed how self conscious she was feeling would definitely get her noticed. People like those could sniff out an insecurity like blood in the water. The second a confident exterior faltered, they went in for the kill. Paige kept her back straight and her eyes ahead.

“Okay. I gotta go talk to my brother. You stay here. Mingle. You can do that, right? Just mingle.” Before she could respond, Maxwell was gone.

Paige turned, looking around desperately for someone she knew. She spotted Drake, looking vaguely angsty and annoyed in a corner, still in his basic denim. She decided she might as well try her luck with him. She walked over, trying her best to step slowly and gracefully.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you looking pretty.” He sized her up. “You fit right in.”

“Well, you’re charming as ever.”

“Ha! Compared to most of the nobles here, I’m your best friend.”

“God, Drake.” she rolled her eyes. “Everyone here’s been perfectly nice so far.”

“Sure, to your face. What do you think goes on the second you leave the room? The people here will jump at the chance to shove you as far down the totem pole as they can.”

“Well, let’s take a look at some examples of their behavior, shall we? They’re letting you attend an extremely high-brow event for free, in your day clothes. You have access to expensive foods, interesting conversation and a bar full of fancy foreign cocktails. And instead of being grateful, you choose to badmouth these people whenever you can, complain, and act like you’re being some big hero by being here. You’re not even wearing a mask!” She hadn’t realized how annoyed she was, but she found herself surprisingly worked up on this. At the sight of her pissed-off expression, Drake softened slightly.

“Look. I swear I’m not trying to be a dick, just trying to be honest. It may look glamorous here, but these people are completely two faced. You’re the newbie, and without someone like me looking out for you, you’ll get clobbered.”

His explanation didn’t exactly soften her up. “If your way of helping is to stand in the corner and bitch about this place, then I’d say you’re doing an excellent job.”

Drake looked like he was going to respond, but he stopped suddenly. He went stiff as a board and completely pale, his eyes fixed right over Paige’s shoulder. Before she could ask what was wrong, she felt a warm hand on her arm.

“Pardon me, but I must steal her away.” The voice was warm, seductive, completely unfamiliar. Based on the alarmed look on Drake’s face, it must not have been a friendly one.

“Um, I’ll just…” He all but sprinted for the opposite end of the room. Paige turned to face the intruder.

Oh. The tiniest of gasps escaped her lips as she gazed into a pair of emerald-green eyes.

If you were to take the moment she first saw Liam, and multiply it by about a thousand or so, you’d have some idea of how Paige felt. Her heart threatened to beat right out of her body as her stomach swooped dramatically.

The woman before her was like no noble Paige had seen before. Where some, like Hana, chose to present themselves as a sweet, soft sort of beautiful, this woman was more sexy. An edgy, almost dangerous sort of drop-dead gorgeous that made heat pool in Paige’s core.

She realized, dazedly, that the woman was wearing the devil costume Paige had almost bought. Little horns peaked out from her pile of crimson hair. The red velvet of her gown clung to her rounded hips, and the neck of it fell as far down her chest as courtly etiquette would allow. She gazed down at Paige, her lips slightly parted. She seemed surprised, as though the other woman had caught her off guard somehow, and Paige wondered distantly what that meant.

“I am Lady Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos,” she murmured. Paige fought to keep her eyes from flickering to the duchess’s candy-painted lips.

“I’m-”

“Lady Paige Langley. Yes, I heard the herald announce you. That’s why I’m here.” She shook her head slightly. Her gaze became sharper as she smiled at the other woman. “I make it my business to know every name at court, and I’ve never heard yours before. Perhaps you’re from one of the humbler duchies?” She didn’t give Paige a chance to respond. “In any case, since you’re the new girl at court, I thought I might give you a bit of advice. You’re not from here, I take it? Cordonia, I mean.” Paige could only nod.

“Well then, let me give you a little tip.” She leaned in with a conspiratory smile, and Paige could feel Olivia’s warm breath on her skin. Her legs grew unstable beneath her, as though she were about to faint.

“When you go up to see the king, bow and kiss his right shoe. It’s a sign of ultimate respect here.”

Could that be true? Unlikely as it seemed, Paige did recall reading about a similar custom from somewhere else in Europe. She frowned. “Really?” She made a mental note to ask Maxwell about that later.

“Oh, of course! It’s lucky I was able to tell you, otherwise you would’ve looked like a complete fool!” She gave a light laugh. As soon as she heard it, the waitress wanted to do whatever she could to hear that sound again.

“Paige!” Maxwell ran up from out of nowhere. Paige did her best not to be annoyed with him for cutting her time with Olivia short. “Liam’s-” he cut himself off as he noticed the Nevrakis. “Um, I mean, Prince Liam, whose title I am always sure to use, because of my deep respect and admiration for him, is coming out to see everyone.” Olivia rolled her eyes and walked off to join a small cluster of ladies.

“Are you ready to see him again?”

Paige tried to paste on a convincing smile. “Totally. I’m totally ready for this.”

“Cool. Let’s go!”

The pair ran off to join a gathering of people at the side of the room, Paige resisting the urge to check over her shoulder for Olivia.

“There he is!” Maxwell pointed. And there he was, the prince himself. Liam stood at the end of the room, making conversation with a star-struck young woman clearly trying very hard to keep cool.

“Do you think he’ll be happy to see me?” Paige whispered.

“Only one way to find out, I guess. But first, you gotta meet the king.”

“Wait, what? You didn’t tell me that I’m meeting the king first thing! What do I say to him?

“Calm down. It’s easy. Just follow what the other ladies do, and you’ll be fine.”

“Wait, wha-”

“LADIES OF THE COURT!” An announcer’s voice boomed across the room. “LINE UP TO GREET THE KING!”

The women rushed to form a line leading towards the front of the room. Paige caught a glimpse of an older man taking a seat upon one of the gilded thrones at the front of the room, flanked by two guards. Hitching up her skirts, she hurried over to take her spot in the growing queue. She watched as each woman made her way up to the king, curtseying and-

And nothing. The bulk of heavy skirts and the towers of gelled-up hair completely blocked her view. It was impossible to tell if any shoe kissing had taken place. She tried her best to steal a glance, but the women in line seemed to take her rustling for attempted line-cutting. She received multiple dirty looks as well as one quick jab to the ribs.

The line was shortening quickly, and Paige was beginning to get panicky. She was already a commoner. She couldn’t afford to broadcast the fact that she also knew pretty much nothing of Cordonian culture. She’d be laughed right out of the court, right out of the country. She leaned to the side again, trying desperately to see what was going on. Nothing.

Finally, there were only two women left in front of Paige. She had given up on trying to see what they were doing, and was instead just trying to not let her nerves show. Elegant smile, straight back. She caught a glimpse of Liam standing across the room, making polite conversation with those who had already met the king. Out of his sweater and into his official suit, he looked so much more… official. That air of nobility that had seemed out of place at the bar suited him perfectly here. He looked so quintessentially prince charming, the poster boy for all that was good and wholesome. It was easy to see why so many ladies were here. In addition to the many gold diggers that Paige was sure were lurking about, many of these women probably actually liked Liam. She watched as a dark-haired young woman laughed a little too hard at a joke of his, slapping his arm lightly. Her eyes sparkled as she stepped closer to him. Her lips parted, as she pre-

“Shitshitshit!” She hissed under breath, before praying that nobody heard her. It was her turn to greet the king.

“Good evening, milady.” The king smiled kindly at her as she took a step closer. He was clearly expecting something.

“Good evening, your majesty. I am Lady Paige Langley, of House Beaumont.”

She dropped into a low curtsey. Her face was inches from the king’s shoe.

She risked a glance back at Olivia. The duchess was watching with not a look of hope, or excitement, or malice. She was looking on with a very clear expression of guilt on her face.

Paige stood from her curtsey, smiled once more, and left the line.

  * * *

“Hey! Where'd you go? I was looking all over for you!” Do you know how hard it is to find a pretty girl in a nice dress in a ballroom choked with pretty girls in nice dresses?”      

“Sorry. I got caught up talking to Hana.”

After the thing with the king, Paige had felt strangely paralyzed with anxiety. Well, maybe it wasn’t so strange. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that a total stranger had tried to humiliate her like a schoolyard bully. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that said stranger was gorgeous and intimidating and sexy and Paige had wanted for her to like her so, so badly. She knew that a trick like this alone wasn’t a big deal, but it hurt that much more coming from someone whom she had so desperately wanted to be some angel. So, instead of joining the growing crowd of women mobbing Liam, she had gone out to the balcony for a moment to breathe. That was where she had found Hana, and the two spent the next half hour talking. It had been nice to just talk to someone, with no expectations or rules. Hana was quickly becoming one of her favorite people at court.

“Wait, you know Hana? Actually, nevermind, we’ll talk on that later. In the meantime, you have to get in there with Liam. You’re one of the only people he hasn’t talked to yet.”

“You think he’ll be freaked out? We only knew each other for like a night before I decided to come out here, and now I’m trying to marry him? Isn’t that weird?”

“Ha! You think a night is too weird? That’s practically a year in royal time. He’s meeting some of these women for the first time tonight. If anything, you’ve got a leg up. He both knows and likes you.”  

“If you say so.”

“And I do. Look, I think he’s free. Go, go, go!”

Maxwell nudged her forward, and she strode across the room to meet Liam. He was finishing up a conversation with someone, and he turned to look at Paige as the woman walked away.  

“Hello, Lady-” He stopped short, his eyes going wide. “It’s you! Paige!”

“It’s me.” She smiled at him, hoping this was a pleasant surprise. Her hopes were confirmed when he broke out in a huge grin.

“Oh, Paige, I thought I’d never see you again! How are you even here?”

“The morning after I met you, Maxwell found me. He offered to take me here so I could represent House Beaumont and… become queen.” Though it was the truth, the thought of saying “marry you” out loud turned her stomach.

“That’s amazing! I’m afraid we don’t have too much time to talk, but that’s incredible news. For the first time all night, I’m actually enjoying a conversation.”

“Does this mean that you’re happy to see me?”

“Happy? I’m ecstatic. I truly like you Paige. I think we have something, and I’m glad we’re getting the chance to explore that together.”

Guilt stabbed at her insides. Liam looked so happy to see her, and yet she couldn’t say the same. She kept thinking back to the moment she saw Olivia. They had barely spoken, and still she had sensed more chemistry in those few minutes than she had after a whole night with Liam. He wasn’t the one she wanted, not even close. But he had deep, personal feelings for her. If she nailed those challenges, she had a real shot at being Liam’s wife. It was a thought that would have made so many of those courtly ladies cry tears of joy, but succeeded only in filling Paige with dread. He actually liked her. He wanted this.

“It’s a lot of pressure, isn’t it? All this, I mean. How are you holding up?” She hoped he wouldn’t notice how she changed the subject.

“I’ve known this was going to happen for some time now. It’s certainly not ideal, but perhaps it won’t be quite so terrible with you here.”

God, he really wasn’t making this easy on her, was he?

“Are the ladies here really that bad? Most of the people I’ve spoken to have been nice enough.”

“It’s not that the ladies themselves are bad, not at all. It’s the process I don’t enjoy. The whole thing is ridiculous and exhausting to all those involved. I know most of the women here, and they’re all incredibly smart and accomplished. And yet they’re being lined up like members of...of…” He paused. “What’s that american dating show? The one with the roses?”

“The Bachelor?”

“Yes! That’s it! This whole thing is one big episode of the bachelor.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through all of it.”

“Don’t be. It is my duty to serve my country however I can. If this is what I must do, so be it.”

Before Paige could respond, the guard behind Liam stepped forward to clear his throat. The prince winced apologetically at Paige.

“I’m afraid we’ve got less than a minute now. Before you go, can I give you a warning?” She nodded.

“This place, these people, are different. We’re not in New York anymore. There are codes, rules, that you’ll have to learn but never be taught. You’ll make friends and alliances, but be careful. Someone like you, here, can’t be too trusting. I don’t mean to scare you, but I care about you. I couldn’t stand to watch you get hurt.”

“Liam, I-”

“Ahem.” The guard coughed. “I believe it is time to move on, your grace.”

“Thank you, Bastien.” The prince turned back, looking regretful. “I’m so sorry, but I must move on. Shall we speak later?”

“Let’s.” She shot him what she could only hope to be a reassuring smile, curtseyed, and strode off, spotting a familiar figure by the drinks.

“Hey, Paige! It looked like that went well.”

“I’d say it did. He seemed happy to see me.”

“Of course he was! I told you he would be.”

“He was weirdly cryptic, though. He kept talking about how much of a drag this whole thing is, and how I need to make allies, and gather people I can trust, and watch my back-the list goes on.”

“Huh. That doesn’t sound like him. Are you sure you weren’t talking to Drake?”

“Unless Drake suddenly owns a body guard and a non-denim item of clothing, then no.”

“Hm. I’ll talk to him later. It’s probably just the pressure of everything getting to him. He’s not wrong, though. It’s good to form alliances with the other ladies. Most of them are outside right now. Go join them, grab a drink, socialize. Make some friends.”

“Got it. Any tips before I go? Who’s nice, who’s boring, who’s a snobby-ass bitch, et cetera.”

“Well, first off, save the cursing for later. One F bomb in here can and will get you kicked out. But to answer your question, Hana’s probably one of the nicest that you’ll meet. Friendly, not a known schemer. Penelope Ebrim is probably one of the more boring ones here, but she’s nice enough. Easily manipulated, but you didn’t hear that from me. Kiara Theron’s pretty interesting, but she can be sort of condescending, snobby. And if you want to talk about-” He paused.

“If you’re looking for witches with a b, then watch out for Olivia Nevrakis. She would kill, and I mean that literally, to become queen. She’s ruthless, cruel, and a known saboteur. Be on the lookout for her.”

“Oh. Good to know.”

“You’re welcome. Now get out there!”  

Hiking up her skirts, Paige strode out into a moonlit garden. The women were talking amongst themselves as they grabbed flutes of champagne. She was scanning the crowd when she felt someone come up behind her.

Turning, she found Olivia glowering at her, her friendly smile from before replaced with a pissy sneer.

“You seemed awfully friendly with the prince earlier, hm? You didn’t say you knew him personally.”

“It’s none of your business how I know Liam.” Paige savored the way the duchess blanched at the way the other woman skipped Liam’s title. “And can we get back to the way you lied to me about the shoe-kissing thing?”

“Yes, yes. Come on, even you have to admit that was funny.You’re the new girl, you’re going to get tricked.” Perhaps this would have been more bothersome if Olivia had been able to look the other woman in the eye, or stop fidgeting with her gown.

“Well, it’s done. You’ve gotten in your dumb little joke, and now it’s over.” At this, the duchess’s head snapped up, her mopey exterior suddenly vanished.

“It’s over when I say it’s over.” She took a step closer, her eyes blazing. Her voice had gone low and dangerous, and Paige hated the way it made her shiver. She tilted her chin, trying to look unfazed.

“Listen to me. I know you’re used to getting whatever you want from people, but that’s not how this is going to go. I’m not your servant, I’m not your follower. Whatever you may believe, you’re not entitled to Liam’s hand, and you’re certainly not entitled to my respect, fear, or loyalty.”

Olivia stepped back, surprised. Some of the women actually gasped as they watched the whole thing unfold.

“Excuse me? Clearly, you’re delusional. I grew up with Liam. I know him better than you ever will. Maybe you made for a fun distraction, but you’re nowhere near wife, or queen, material. The women here have been trained since birth to marry a prince, and if you think that you can just waltz in here and steal that from us, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Not a threat.” She was close, too close, and Paige wanted desperately to grab her even closer.

“A promise.”

[haley-harrison]

Trash-quality doodle for the few wonderful people who read The Remaking.

I tried. 🙈

[from-home]

𑁍 MARK LEE┊ 𝒔𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 / preview ˎˊ˗

𑁍 summary : the one where mark lee time travels back and forth throughout the past and future  with his crush, (y/n) ˎˊ˗

𑁍 pairing : mark lee x older!reader (by like three years lmao) ˎˊ˗

𑁍 genre : fluff, comedy (i hope??), minimal angst, time travel!au ˎˊ˗

𑁍 warnings : swearing, unrequited love (i know that shit hurts omg), my humour is ass, mark gives me slight second hand embarrassment in this, (y/n) does not show up physically in this preview but is mentioned here and there ˎˊ˗

𑁍 a/n : ahh i don’t usually write on here (i use another site for that!) but i figured i might as well try dsfjg - i'm still getting used to this site though!! although this is a preview, i'm not even halfway done with the first chapter of this series yet - assuming i even finish the first chapter without burning out :(( uni sucks >:( but yeah, i guess i'm just posting to see how it goes? i intend on at least trying to continue this no matter the response it gets (or even the lack thereof sdfhg), but if people really like it, then even better!!   ˎˊ˗

[ 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟬 : 𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝟬 ]

when your pastor dad’s best friend was the biggest nerd in high school and became an eccentric scientist

O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,

   What a beautiful Pussy you are,

        You are,

        You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!

O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,

 What a beautiful Pussy you are,

      You are,

      You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!

     If he could write like that, maybe Mark wouldn't need to be here in this boring literature class of his. Don't get him wrong, he liked writing, and he liked the way he could express his emotions through a pen and paper. But for the twenty-one-year-old boy who could barely sit still in one place without his mind wandering off into four different dimensions, it was hard to be interested in whatever the professor was rambling on about. Maybe Professor Jung was telling the story of how she met Dylan Thomas' widow's sister's friend's cousin, and how much of an artistic impact it had on her. She had told the story a good three times in the past two months - Mark kept count.

     Yeah, writing was fun and all, but literature class specifically was boring and dull to him. "Oh but Mark, why take this course then?" one might ask. But one should also know that it was a necessary course if Mark wanted to earn his oh-so-coveted diploma.

     Curse him for majoring in creative writing. His dad always did wonder why writers even bother writing when the bible exists.

     But maybe one day, an hour and a half of John Keats would produce him some ideas for a romantic poem that he could write and gift off to his love of seven years... and counting.

     (Y/N), the shiniest of all pearls and the most beautiful of all Mona Lisa's, the older woman and her beauty often left Mark stunned and helplessly in love. He first met her when he was fourteen, when she had been introduced as his seventeen-year-old tutor. She was so pretty back then, and still was now. In fact, it was as if she didn't age at all!

     Someone who resembled a goddess like (Y/N)  deserved only the most romantic of all romantic poems, and Mark Lee made it a mission to be the one to write it for her. He was so helplessly in love with her that he was able to channel his feelings for her into five different written forms: poems, song lyrics, an 'A for effort?' drawing of her, letters, and anonymous blog posts about how "unrequited love hurts".

     Sure, those blog posts were anonymous, but as good as Mark thought he was at hiding his feelings for her, everybody in town and their ancestors' spirits knew about the big crush Mark had on her. But no one bothered to tell (Y/N) about her not-so-secret admirer and nobody bothered to let Mark know that his mysterious crush wasn’t as well-kept to himself as he thought it was.

     But it was cute. Not the part where Mark slowly died on the inside as each day passed without his feelings being returned (that was pretty sad, everybody acknowledged), but the part where the adoration in his eyes were so clear for (Y/N). Legend went that he held stars in his eyes whenever his gaze rested on the older woman - like, actual stars from the galaxy. Or so the first-hand accounts go.

     Mark Lee was a talented and hardworking boy, that much was a shared sentiment by everybody in town. He excelled at all subjects, mowed the lawn twice just because he thought he missed a spot, gave it his all at church every Sunday by rapping and dancing in the name of Jesus Christ until he was reduced to sweat and threatening to rip his dress shirt off - he was a jack of all trades. There were even rumours that whenever it was time for a 'Make a Wish' patient to... make a wish in heaven, he would dress up as Spiderman and visit them in the hospital to make their final dreams come true. So maybe that's why it was so endearing, his one-sided love for his noona. If there was one person who could jump over that hurdle of "just friends" and out of the friend zone, it had to be Mark, the boy who's always gave it his all in everything ever since he moved here from Canada when he was twelve. It was one thing to have this crush that you desperately wanted to be returned, but it was another to have the whole town cheering for you - it said a lot about Mark's character.

     Which is why! There was no other perfect test subject for Scientist Kim, the local eccentric scientist who was obsessed with creating his "next big invention". He also happened to be the best friend of the town's pastor (weird combination, everybody knows), courtesy of their high school days and a misunderstanding over a carton of milk. The town's pastor also oh-so-coincidentally happened to be Mark's father, who had lived in Korea for all his life until he moved to Canada so his wife could give birth to baby Mark. He ended up moving back to his hometown, however, thus creating a new relationship between his best friend and son.

     Now Scientist Kim - who liked to go by "Cabbage" as a homage to his idol, Charles Babbage - didn’t really care about Mark's painful one-sided love, but he knew the boy could never say no to his father's best friend from high school, so there was no one better to try out his experiments and inventions than Mark. Like, there was literally no one else at all - the whole town swore Cabbage was out of his mind and were still waiting for the day the newspaper would come out with a headline that he's been charged with involuntary manslaughter. Everybody would be disappointed, but not surprised. But such an incident hadn’t happened yet, so for now, Cabbage was still freely working hard everyday to successfully complete and unveil the invention that would propel him to "the front page of every science magazine and a Nobel Prize in Physics".

     And it just so happened to be today, October 30th 2020, when Mark received a phone call from his dad's best friend in the middle of class. He was glad he kept his phone on vibrate, but god, was it distracting. To answer or not to? Why now of all times? Right, he forgot that some people don't have anything else to do with their lives other than... creating things that usually end up on fire by the end of it. You know, now that he thought back on it, the last time Mark willingly participated in Cabbage's experiment which involved some tinfoil, antennas, and laser beam machining, it left Mark's right shoe on fire - thank God he had brought a fire extinguisher over to Cabbage’s house with him.

     Just that memory alone convinced Mark to ignore the call, nearly forgetting about it once it had stopped ringing if not for the fact he received another call just seconds later. "What is this, an infatuation?" Mark grumbled to himself, before glancing up at the front to see if Professor Jung was distracted enough for him to take this call without her noticing. It didn't help that he sat three rows away from the front. But she still seemed to be rambling on about how much she loved Dylan Thomas' works, and that was a sign for him to accept the call. He kept his voice to a hushed whisper, however, "Hello-"

     "Mark! You have to come over!" There was no way Professor Jung did not hear that screech that came from his phone. He glanced up nervously, noticing his classmate's startled gazes on him. But his eyes wandered over to the front, and judging by how Professor Jung was now going on about Dylan Thomas' "attractive appearance", it seemed he was in the safe for now.

     "Cabbage, I'm in class, so could you keep it down?" Mark hissed quietly into the phone.

     "Right, right, sorry!" While he was still loud even after lowering his voice down, it was more than quiet enough for Professor Jung not to notice, thankfully. "Mark, I've just completed my latest invention. But this isn't just any invention, it's the invention of both my - and everybody's dreams!"

     Mark would be mildly curious if not for the fact that Cabbage said that about every invention of his, but he figured that his dad was going to urge him to go anyway, even if Mark didn’t want to. "But he's my best friend, Mark!" Jeez, because how could he possibly say no to the power of friendship?

     "Mark? Boy? You still there?" Cabbage’s voice pulled Mark out of his thoughts, and the boy could do nothing but sigh. This was just going to be like every other time - he’d be introduced to some machine that supposedly did one thing, said machine would catch on fire the next minute, and it would all result in Mark going home an hour later.

     "Fine, I'll be there. After class in like, half an hour." Mark reassured the scientist, and he swore, he could hear something catching on fire in the background.

     "Great!" He then heard rushed footsteps and... a fire extinguisher? "See you then!" And the call ended.

     He just couldn’t wait.

[lostsoulaltair]

OnS Theoires (12S). Eighth Theory - Three Michaelas that couldn’t become the real Michaela (Long Theory)

Hey guys, welcome to another theory season; I took a small break in order to organize some ideas but along the way, to relax a little. I hope everyone’s doing well!

Today, I want to talk about three characters that have something in common, therefore let’s begin!!

As you might have seen in the latest chapter, most of the characters that belong to the story are in a sole reunion point, said characters are: Mikaela Hyakuya, Crowley Eusford and Ferid Bathory.

Said characters have been labeled or referred as special. This is due to the fact they possess the Michaela trait, along the fact that Mika has both traits, the Michaela trait and Seraph trait.

This might seem repetitive but there’s something rather interesting with these three characters, but what?

To begin with, asides from possessing the Michaela trait, they’ve been chosen by a certain figure; in Ferid’s case, he was first chosen as a Michaela by Rigr Stafford but eventually he was discarted; next was Crowley Eusford, which is Ferid Bathory’s Michaela.

But then again, there’s something interesting with these characters, what could it be?

First of all, these three characters have become vampires, which means, the Michaela trait is pretty much inactive in that form, but still, they had the right to be Michaelas, but why?

They share unique traits other characters within the story don’t have, and for that, let’s describe what made these characters Michaelas

Ferid Bathory - The First Michaela

As of late, I’ve been talking a lot about this crazy vampire but well, he has gained my respect for how his plans end up working. But returning to the main focus within the theory, let’s talk about Ferid.

What exactly made him earn the title of Michaela?

So far, Ferid has displayed his eccentric nature in every moment he’s able to within the story, he’s often seen as a figure that wants to show the world he has the upper hand, an advantage and so far, he showed that to the Vampire Progenitors after he managed to move despite having his body sliced into pieces.

But before we can keep talking about his nature, let’s focus more on his past.

Despite him not having much information except on the actions he commited in the past, Ferid had a high resemblance to the angel sleeping in the coffin. Of course, said body is actually the real form of Sika Madu, but how can I state that?

To begin with, the body was kept, preserved and hidden until Ashera, Noya, Krul and Yu ended up peeking around the place to the point they eventually found said body; but within this, there was a hint about it being something that belonged to the First Progenitor, how is that possible?

Ashera stated they didn’t have the right to be in that place, which implies, only the First had the power to access, but within this, Noya was aware that they were failed products to become a Michaela.

Returning with Ferid, despite his resemblance, there was something he shared with the First Progenitor in a way, what may have that be?

Easy, Ferid and Sika Madu share intelligence, fast plannification and tactics. They’re always one step ahead of their respective adversaries. They give the advantage to them to the point they feel there’s hope and then, they end up bringing despair to said adversaries.

Ferid has always been a fast thinker, he has developed schemes even if he’s younger compared to other progenitors that have had more experience in life; he’s aware that he didn’t fulfill the expectations of his sire, which in return, he only expressed how wrong his sire was for ever having such idea.

You might wonder why I compare Ferid with the First, despite this being a theory, I believe that the First Progenitor was in reality the angel Michaela and eventually, some events happened to the point he required a new vessel or more likely a body on which his soul would be preserved.

Returning once again to Ferid, it is possible that Rigr saw that intelligence and cunning ideas Ferid had at a very young age along the fact his resemblance was quite similar to the angel, Rigr ended up having him as a Michaela.

But then, why did Ferid not fulfill the expectations?

Despite Ferid having talent and tactics, he lacked something which was empathy, gentleness, kindness, awareness, how can I state this?

Taking in count that Sika Madu, being the first, the progenitor of all vampires along the fact that his sin ended up making him get kicked from heaven, there was a possibility he could have had a kind side; which is somehow displayed in chapter 78, before the events on which his experiments were unraveled to Ashera.

Crowley Eusford - The Second Michaela

Crowley Eusford is well known for being a vampire that still has memories of his past, that still dwells on it and remembers his fallen comrades in arms thanks to Ferid Bathory.

Despite him barely knowing the 2nd Progenitor Rigr Stafford, Ferid became aware of his existance, Ferid even gave him the blood of Rigr so he could turn Crowley into a vampire. The reason behind this transformation is because Ferid saw potential on him, what do I mean?

Crowley was born with the Michaela trait, as to how exactly Ferid tracked down Crowley, it is somehow uncertain, but it’s possible Ferid did a deep research in order to track special humans with unique traits such as Crowley, now, with the previous point related to Ferid; you might wonder how exactly do Crowley and the angel Michaela relate when they share nothing in common in terms of physical appearence, therefore, let’s talk about it.

Crowley Eusford was a kind man for his era, he always worried about his family and comrades first instead of his well being. He treasured his comares deeply, he cared about them, and his faith back them was unshattered, he deeply believed in God.

Crowley possessed the trait of kindness within him, “love”, that emotion and feeling, a pure feeling that was within him towards his friends and those he swore to protect as a crusader.

Therefore, what can we conclude from this?

Crowley had virtues, such virtues are the main trait that belong to angels, but then again, why did Crowley end up as someone who didn’t end up as a complete Michaela?

Crowley lacked other elements that complemented a Michaela, despite him possessing virtues that Ferid saw in him which was something he lacked, the creation of a new Michaela ended up with a missing piece.

For Ferid, Crowley still has a role to play, as brothers from the same sire, as Michaelas, they’re aware they have the key elements to bring forth a new one, but at the same time, those traits alone by themselves aren’t enough.

Mikaela Hyakuya - The Third Michaela

As for the last person who was called a new Michaela, that character is no less than Mikaela Shindo/Hyakuya.

Mika was born with special traits, which is why his parents truthfully believed he could do amazing things despite the madness that they had after joining the Hyakuya Sect.

So far, I’ve seen that some state that Mika’s previous body was the one of the sleeping angel but humbly speaking, I don’t believe that’s the case, you might wonder the reason, but for that, let me ask you one question.

“Is it possible for a soul to have two bodies?”

My answer to that is no, but why?

First of all, if that were the case, Mika would be more of a character that would follow the rules or more likely, he’d aim to achieve what the First Progenitor aims to. And so far, it’s been clear that he opposes to such monster that turned and gave him the curse of eternal life along the other vampire progenitors.

Returning to the main topic, let’s talk about how Mika ended up as Rigr’s new Michaela.

To begin with, Mika has displayed in story  the traits Crowley has, such as kindness, gentleness, sweetness and most of all, the pure form of “Love”.

NOTE: Theories don’t include ships.

As we’ve seen, Mikaela told Yu he loved him; Yu literally meant the world to Mika since he was the last member of the Hyakuya Orphanage, thus, Mika was afraid that he could lose his last family member.

Within this, he told Yu he loved him, such a small phrase made a huge impact on Yu because the mentioned one didn’t think he’d ever be loved; he detested himself and thus he wanted to be worthy and useful to others, but within this, someone taught him that such thing is not the case, that he ended up having a loving family that cared for his wellbeing despite not knowing the truths lying around the world that is far from the squad.

Now, another trait that he shares with the other two, is the fact that he is smart, he thinks fast and knows how to take control of situations certain extend, which is something reflected in the LNs. When Mahiru was about to take one of the kids with her, Mika made sure to observe Mahiru within the shadows, but eventually, Mahiru ended up taking the kid anyways.

This only implies Mika was smart enough to planificate and make tactics against those who represented danger, but now, despite being the perfect Michaela for Rigr, there was something he lacked, what could that be?

Mika wasn’t merciless which is something seraphs have displayed, and angels such as the angel Michaela too.

Therefore, what can we conclude from this?

Despite having three main subjects with said trait, them alone can’t become the new Michaela Rigr’s been desperately seeking for centuries.

Personally speaking, I believe those traits alone are the proof of being special instead of transforming them into merciless beings. Within this, I highly believe said trait will keep playing its role, despite seeing Mika becoming a demon, perhaps said trait will give him something new; we can only speculate.

As for Ferid and Crowley, it’s likely they keep displaying that willpower, strength and uniquess they’ve been showing around the story.

What do you think? Which of them do you consider have reached closeness to become Michaela?

Let me know!!

[aspoonofsugar]

Yosano: The Decay of the Angel of Death

Yosano is introduced as a funny twist of the classical healer character:

Her power lets her cure others, but in order for it to work she needs to almost kill her patients and she exhibits sadistic tendencies (played for fun) while doing so.

However, once her past is revealed it becomes obvious that she is really a deconstruction of such a character and her story is extremely interesting because of that and because of the themes it explores.

This meta will try to analyze these things and will explore two major themes linked to the doctor of the Detective Agency.

THE ANGEL OF DEATH: THE STRONG LINK BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH

“After all to die isn’t the opposite of living. It’s merely a component of the process of life.”

In a sense Yosano is a character created to explore exactly what Dazai says here aka the link between life and death.

This is made clear since her battle against Kaji:

Kaji is a researcher who wants to investigate the world and to find answers to his questions. To be more specific he is interested in concepts like death, faith and God. In short, he is interested in things which are usually considered out of the scientific domain. Here, however, he makes a mistake in the way he approaches his subject of interest. As a matter of fact he wants to know what “death” is, but one can’t understand death without considering life. Kaji fails to discover the truth and sees death as mysterious and complicated simply because he refuses to aknowledge the importance of life. If one does, one can easily see that death is connected to life.

However, the definition proposed by Yosano is different from the one given by Dazai because it is one which gives much more importance to life rather than death. After all, according to her, death is not something which exists by itself, but simply the lack of something else.

This is because Yosano is a person who strongly loves life:

The reason why she followed Mori and became a war medic was not because she wanted her country to win the war, but because she wanted to save lives.

This is shown also by her ability which is said many times to be extremely rare among ability users. Why is that so?

The story has made clear that abilities are linked to people’s interiority. They are often representative of violent tendencies or complexes. Alternatively they are weapons who can be used against others. In short, they are indicative of one’s coping mechanisms. However, Yosano’s ability is different because it simply expresses a strong love for the act of living which is not very common among ability users.

This can be used to compare her to Mori in two ways.

1) First of all, Mori is a doctor like Yosano, but the way his ability reflects this is completely different from hers:

It has been shown that Elise can act as a nurse and an assistant to Mori, but she hasn’t any healing powers.

In other words, when it comes to healing, Elise is nothing special despite Mori being a doctor himself. This is interesting when one considers that Mori created Elise’s current personality, so that it resembles Yosano’s. This can be easily seen as Mori wishing that his powers were like Yosano’s.

However, it is obvious why they are not:

Mori doesn’t value individual lives, but thinks about “life” in an abstract way and talks about a regiment of “immortal beings” rather than patients he can help. This is why his ability could never become like Yosano’s. It is because deep down Mori doesn’t like life:

Dazai: “Who is this person I remind you of?”

Mori: “Me. Dazai-kun, why do you wish to die?”

Dazai: “Let me ask you, then. Do you really think there is any value in the act of living?”

2) Secondly, it is worth considering that, despite not having healing powers, Elise shows superhuman abilities when fighting. What is more, her preferred weapons are medical tools:

In short, her nurse motif is something that comes up while she fights and so while she hurts others.

This is something which is true for Mori as well:

Fukuzawa has commented about the immorality of a doctor who uses a scalpel to kill a person. This becomes even more evident if we remember that a scalpel is what Mori used to kill the former mafia boss who was his patient at the time.

So, Mori is a character who chose a profession which should save people’s lives, but he is strongly linked to death instead:

The same is true for Yosano as well:

However, she is so in a completely different way than Mori is.

As a matter of fact Mori uses medical tools to kill, while Yosano uses weapons to cure:

In both cases there seems to be a contradiction between their roles as doctors and the violence they use. However, Mori’s violence is born by his indifference towards life, while Yosano’s by her love for it. This is symbolized by Mori using things which should save people’s lives to kill them and by Yosano using things which should kill people to cure them.

This will be elaborated later on, but for now it is important to highlight that Yosano’s experiences in the war made her realize something important aka what she herself told Kaji about life and death being connected. This means not only that one can’t really understand death without considering life, but also that one can’t really understand life without considering death.

If Kaji doesn’t care enough about life when he meets Yosano and this is why he can’t understand what death is, then Yosano’s mistake as a child is the exact opposite. She only thought about life in simple terms without worrying about its link to death. However, as the war progresses she starts thinking more and more about this:

Until she realizes how much the two concepts are connected:

She is initially said to be an angel because of her being able to save lives, but later it becomes clear that her powers are simply making the deaths of the soldiers longer and more painful other than impossible to avoid.

THE DECAY OF AN ANGEL: “YOU ARE TOO CORRECT”

Another important realization Yosano has is this:

Because of her ability, the army she was a part of lost its right to “lose”.

As Yosano states, the right to lose is something humans have, so taking it away from the soldiers is something which dehumanizes them. Yosano blames herself for it, but she is actually the greatest victim of this dehumanization.

As a matter of fact Yosano is a character who is reduced by others to her ability.

This is not something new for ability users since we have seen this happening over and over. However, Yosano’s case is interesting because her objectification is something which is subtle and is not initially presented as negative:

Both Tachihara’s brother and the other soldiers praise Yosano for her ability and call it a very useful and positive power. After all, as stated above, the power of healing wounds is very different from other kinds of powers which are dangerous and could hurt others. Yosano’s ability is useful and it is perfect to help people. What is more, she herself has a strong wish to share it with others.

In other words Yosano’s situation seems ideal. She is a talented child with a powerful and wonderful gift and has the talent and willingness to use it for the greater good.

However, when things go wrong she is the one blamed for it:

It doesn’t matter that Yosano was motivated by the best intentions when she joined the army or that she is suffering just like everyone else. What matters to the other soldiers is that she is the reason why they are forced to keep fighting and she is also considered special enough not to be forced to fight. Her ability is so great that it can control the battlefield and so Yosano’s life is considered more important than theirs. Because of this, they stop seeing her as a person and simply see her ability.

In other words, the soldiers might have lost their right to lose, but Yosano has lost her right to be human and has become nothing more than an angel.

An angel is considered an existence above humans, but this also means that they can’t have human weaknesses. Yosano is not seen as a human by the soldiers and so her sorrow is neither considered nor accepted.

This idea is well expressed by Tachihara’s brother:

He initially states that Yosano is “correct” and adds that her ability is so that it increases the correctness of the world. However, as time passes the soldier’s mental health deteriorates and his final message is that Yosano is “too correct”. He writes this before killing himself and so making clear that he prefers death over the life Yosano stubbornly keeps saving.

The choice of the word “correct” is interesting and it can be applied both to Yosano as a person and to her ability.

As a person Yosano can barely be blamed for what happened. After all, she did her best to save lives and had no ulterior motives. If anything, she was a vitcim of Mori’s actions just like all the other soldiers.

However, as stated above, people are not interested in her personhood, but only in her ability.

She is either correct or wrong not because of who she is, but only because her ability is considered a blessing or a curse. When the war starts she is said to be indispensable to win, but once this is proven wrong her death is said to be for the sake of the world, as Jouno puts it.

In short, this part of Yosano’s character is linked to two concepts.

1) People should not be reduced to their abilities.

2) Expectations society has about individuals and why they are cruel.

Both ideas are also linked to Tachihara:

This detail is interesting and it can be read in different ways.

First of all, it is obviously something Tachihara does to unnerve Yosano and to make her understand that he is motivated by revenge. However, it is also related to Tachihara’s personal inferiority complex:

The soldier died lamenting that Yosano was “too correct”, but ironically it seems that Tachihara has very similar feelings when it comes to him. The man is implied to have been outstanding and Tachihara has even been told that it would have been better if he had died instead of his brother.

So, one wonders if the words “you are too correct” are really meant for Yosano in that scene or if they are words Tachihara secretely wishes to tell his brother, but can’t because of his death and his complicated feelings about it.

Finally, it is ironic that a Hunting Dog would say these words to a wanted criminal like Yosano and I think it is symbolic of the whole group’s hypocrisy.

The Hunting Dogs are so obsessed by the idea of justice that they forget to balance it with empathy. All in all, if there are characters in the series who are “too correct” that would be them and not Yosano. They have failed to realized it so far, but it is possible they will have to rethink their ways.

After all, as I briefly mentioned here, they are fighting against a group called the Decay of Angels. It has been said that this group wants to destroy the same society the Hunting Dogs want to protect and they are clearly using people’s ideals and biased concepts of right and wrong to manipulate them and turn them into accomplices of their scheme. All in all, they are the perfect enemies for the Hunting Dogs and the arc is clearly hinting at the fact that the Dogs will have to face their shortcomings (after all the current chapters are called Skyfall).

Yosano’s story perfectly fits this narrative thematically. After all, her past is basically the story of the decay of an angel whose blessings (a healing ability and a good heart) were used against her.

BUTTERFLY WINGS VS ANGEL WINGS

As we saw above, Yosano’s character is linked to two major themes.

1) The link between life and death.

2) The objectification of people which happens in society.

The symbolism of the butterfly can be used to represent both ideas.

On one hand the butterfly is a symbol of both death and resurrection which perfectly fits her ability to the point that You Shall not Die is represented by butterflies.

On the other hand the butterfly is also a symbol linked to Yosano’s status as an angel since she receives her butterfly pin when she is called an angel for the first time and she loses it when she loses her status as one and becomes an angel of death instead. Moreover, the chapters which talk about her past are called Dreaming of Buterflies, while the ones where she meets Tachihara are called The Sorrow of Those without Wings. So the story makes clear that the butterflies symbolize both an ideal and perfect reality which got lost when Yosano lost her innocence and her status as an existence above others.

I will now try to offer a conclusion to both these topics which have been explored in the two previous sections.

1) I have written previously that Dazai and Yosano’s definitions of life and death are different, but I think I should slightly correct this stance.

I think it is better to say that both arrive to the same conclusion, but they do so through almost opposite journeys because their starting points are completely different.

On one hand Dazai is a person who can’t find any value in the act of living. This is why he wants to die painlessly. However, throughout the events of Fifteen, he comes up with the idea that by experiencing death closely he might be able to understand life better and to find some kind of meaning. Even later on, when he chooses to protect the weak, he is inspired to do so because of the death of a close friend. In short, Dazai’s journey to give meaning to his own life seems to be paradoxically linked to death:

“People live to save themselves. You will understand that at the moment of your own death”.

On the other hand Yosano is a person in love with life, but she has to accept even its more painful parts. She has to accept that things are not black and white and that death can’t be avoided. Let’s also highlight that Yosano too loses a person dear to her because of Mori and that she is utterly crushed by it.

The result of Yosano’s journey sheds some light on the true nature of her ability:

Let’s underline that her backstory doesn’t put much emphasis on the fact that her patients need to be half-dead to be cured by her. This could simply be because it is something which is implied, but I would not be surprised if it were a condition which developed as a result of Yosano’s trauma:

If Yosano sees her ability as something which cheapens life, then it makes sense for her to use it only when a person is almost dead because it would mean that there is really no other chance to save them.

Ranpo even suggested her to stop using her ability altogether:

And let’s not forget that Fukuzawa’s ability lets the members of the agency gain more control over their powers. Moreover, this control is not something they develop consciously, but it is the result of Fukuzawa giving them what they need. In short, It is some kind of unconscious security net. We have seen that Kyouka was given independency and Atsushi more control. It would be interesting if Yosano were given a condition which would limit the use of her powers to when the situation is desperate.

This is just a headcanon, but even if her powers have always been the way they are now, there is no doubt that her sadistic behaviour is an aspect which has been highlighted much more in the series compared to when she was a child.

This could very well be Yosano’s attempt to make her comrades care for their life:

The risk of having an ability which lets you come back from death’s door is to become reckless and to stop treasuring your own life. This might be especially true for the members of the agency many of whom have self-sacrificial tendencies. However, the fear of being healed by Yosano makes so that they have to try their best to preserve themselves.

2) Yosano has been given her butterfly pin twice:

The first time, Tachihara’s brother calls her an angel and tells her her ability is much better than his despite how much enchanted she is by the butterfly flying elegantly:

The second time, Ranpo tells her that her ability is nothing special when compared to his and adds this:

In other words, Ranpo treats her like a person. He doesn’t care about Yosano’s ability, but about Yosano herself.

Once Ranpo gives her the pin she stops being an angel and becomes a person and the pin becomes the symbol of her humanity and of her grief which, like Ranpo said, has value.

All in all, abilities don’t matter.

-Yosano was just as amazed by the soldier’s ability to make beautiful things out of metal as he was by her healing powers.

-Tachihara’s control of metal is said to be stronger than his brother’s, but he still feels inferior to him and misses him.

-Finally Ranpo can be amazing even without an ability.

These are the messages conveyed by Yosano’s character so far and I can’t wait to see how her story will end. She was able to find a safe place with the agency, but she has now been asked to face her past and some unresolved issues have come back.

For example, despite how much she cares about life, it is obvious that she considers her own expendable to an extent:

And she still hates others sacrificing for her sake because she dislikes being considered special:

We will see how these issues will be solved.

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 17 (Gilgamesh, Hakuno, Hans)

Previous Part: One - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

_____

The door was knocked on again.

“Gil, go hide!”

The man raised a brow at her.

“Just- Trust me for a minute! Go hide in my room!”

She could hear a voice calling for her on the other side of the door, asking her to open up the door. Gilgamesh, on the other hand, was not moving.

“Open the door, Hakuno. Who is it?”

So he’d missed the introduction?

That was both good and bad. Telling him would no doubt turn this area and her front door into a bloodbath, leaving either one or two bodies for her to bury and/or explain away to the police. She was pretty sure that neither Ishtar nor Gil were going to back down if this door separating them went away.

“It’s ah… It’s someone awkward,” she told him.

She was technically being honest. Ishtar was incredibly awkward.

Especially in front of her door.

“I’m remaining here.”

“Gil!”

“Unless you would like to bargain.”

This was not the time! Why on earth would he pick right now to be bargaining with one another?!

“You will become my spouse.”

“Fine!”

She didn’t even hesitate. She needed him out of the room! Whatever he thought he could get her to agree to was pointless in the meantime. Even if she married him, it would be only by Sumerian standards. She’d lose her virginity and a bit of time.

He’d go home. She’d finish school.

Good deal.

“And,” the king continued.

“Gil! We agreed-“

“You will come back to Uruk with me.”

The pounding was getting more aggressive. Because what else did a goddess have to do on a perfectly legitimate Sunday night other than pound on the door of a woman’s house?

Hakuno held the doorknob and actually felt herself growl.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh moved closer, wrapping his arms around her. His mouth moved to her ear as he tucked a bit of hair behind it. “Agree to come to Uruk with me. It will ensure my safe journey home.”

“I will see you home,” she countered. “That’s all I’m agreeing to.”

“And the marriage.”

“FINE!”

The man smirked, all but parading through her kitchen towards her bedroom. His amused and pleased expression vanished a few moments before she heard the door to her bedroom slam shut.

Another pounding on her door and Hakuno found herself sighing.

She pulled the door open and found the woman from before waiting just outside the threshold.

“You know, it’s rude to slam doors shut on people.”

“It is, but I know nothing about your nephew Gilbert.”

“Gilgamesh. His name is Gilgamesh. He’s… suffering delusions. I don’t want to scare you, but he’s known for being dangerous. It would be best to know whether or not he’s been around here.”

“And I already told you that he’s not here.”

“May I come in?”

Hakuno gave the woman a bored look.

“I need to look for my nephew!”

“You need to contact the police and file a missing person report. I’m sure the police would be able to find him. In the meantime-“

“Are you married?”

Hakuno paused.

“Gilgamesh is a troubled person. He has been known to lure people into his bed and use them for his own personal pleasure. I just want to help you.”

“Then I would call the police and call a psychological hospital. If you’ll excuse me, I have an evening to continue. Knock again and I will phone for the police.”

She shut the door this time, keeping an eye out as the woman left.

She definitely looked a lot like Rin, especially from behind.

If Ishtar was around, then that meant that there was definitely a way to get Gilgamesh back to his time. She could go there, drop him off, say hello to his friend, warn his friend not to do anything drastic at Ishtar since the goddess was dangerous, and then come home.

Simple.

She locked and bolted the door this time, intending not to have company. In fact. She went to the living room and closed the blinds as well.

Privacy was turning into quite the thing right now.

“Are you going to bolt the windows too?”

Hakuno paused, glancing over as Gilgamesh leaned against the doorway to the living room. His arms were crossed, his eyes drifting to the windows.

“I’m tired of people coming to the house.”

She was.

Between Emiya coming over to ask too many questions and her friends barging into the house only to find her getting intimate with Gilgamesh. And now Ishtar coming to the house; it was all too much.

The man eyed her for a moment, walking over to her with his head held high. It was like, in that moment, the man could see straight through her. He could see that he had been bargained with to stay away from Ishtar trying to hurt him. He could see that she had just protected his ass from death or worse.

“I don’t like that look in your eyes.”

Hakuno stared up at him, finding him tilting her head back.

“You look scared again. You have me in your home. Nothing can touch you so long as you are at my side. Stop thinking about these fears of yours and focused on the more important things.”

She was focusing on the important things.

There was death lurking around every corner. There was a goddess knowing to knock on her door for some reason to ask about-

Gilgamesh was unbuttoning the shirt she had on again.

She was finding him leaning in, his arms going over her shoulders.

“Look at me.”

“It’s been very hard not to look at you, Gilgamesh. I’ve gotta say, you’ve been in front of my face all weekend.”

He smirked, stealing a small kiss from her.

He’s so damn cuddly.

“You’re mine.”

She could feel her face warming up at the words, her cheek rubbing just slightly against his cheek. There was some stubble there now.

A small shiver ran through her.

“Do you like that?”

“Gil,” she turned her face, but his lips were back against hers.

The man’s hands were pulling at the shirt around her, letting it fall to the floor. She was finding herself picked up, held against his chest as they walked back to the bedroom.

“Gil, I can’t…”

Her lips were taken again and she found herself draped across her bed.

Hours of that kissing from before was back. Hours of that stubble rubbing against her face and her chest. She could feel his teeth nipping at her person. She could feel her body responding to him, giving the softest of whimpers in return.

Hours upon hours of this endless teasing, leaving her to drown in her own pleasure.

The mysterious king of pleasure indeed, but Gilgamesh had a talent for touching.

It was those hands that she was thinking about when she was getting dressed in the morning. She could feel his hands still running over her legs and her thighs as she pulled on a pair of tights. She could feel his tongue slipping into her belly button, kissing along her waist as she pulled her skirt on and fixed it into place.

Her chest still felt sensitive as she put her bra and shirt on. She chose a turtleneck, for obvious reasons.

“We’re going to your classes?”

The man was yawning slightly, glancing over at her as he fixed the sleeve of his shirt. His jewelry gleamed on his chest, his shirt hanging open.

I can’t take him like this.

The man looked about five seconds from calling either calling a mob hit, throwing out some sick beats, or simply starting a harem.

Oh wait.

He had possessed a harem before.

And I’m technically one of them.

Hakuno sighed, moving forward and buttoning his shirt for him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home? There’s a lot of research you could do-“

“Hakuno, I have already informed you that I’m coming with you. Are you attempting to get rid of me?”

“No…”

A girl could dream that he’d listen though.

She lacked the spine for turning this man away. He’d been nice enough to not take her last night, instead getting her accustomed to him touching her. She’d been consumed for a good portion of the night, finding pleasure in every caress of those hands of his.

She’d fallen asleep half swearing that the man was purring against her.

She locked the house behind them, finding that Gilgamesh tossed his valuables back into those mysterious gates of his. They walked down to the car, taking a moment from their journey to campus to get something at the coffee shop again.

Hakuno slung her bag over her shoulder, sighing as they walked across the walkway from the parking garage to the campus building.

The man’s hand was in her own, his other hand occupied with allowing him to enjoy his bitter as hell coffee. Those red eyes of his drifted over the student body passing by, enjoying the view a bit as he walked by her side.

There was… a great amount of looks being thrown their way.

“Hakuno.”

“Emiya.”

She could feel Gil’s arm around her waist as she passed the man’s seat in the classroom. She had to force Gil to sit behind her a moment before class began.

“Excuse you!”

The teacher looked back for the fourth time that class period.

“Don’t you think you’re overexaggerating on the idea of the gods being assigned roles?”

The teacher frowned, shaking his head. “Although they were somewhat stylized in that manner by academics who were studying the Greek gods, the gods had roles assigned-“

“Are you quite sure that they were forced to be known in such manners? Could it not be that they were all supposed to be simply gods and divine and had tasks that just happened to be in those areas? I doubt one god or useless goddess, for example, would be restricted to something as paltry as cows or creation.”

“Well, no, but-“

“So you’re wrong.”

Hakuno nudged the man.

“Hakuno, be still. I’m ensuring your education.”

The man ended up in a fight with the professor.

She was grateful for the pills in her purse the moment they walked out together, finding the others mumbling to one another as Gilgamesh wrapped an arm around her waist.

Three more classes.

The man was falling asleep against her, actually daring to prop his feet up in her last class before lunch. She could see the ire on her teacher’s face.

They ate with the others, Gilgamesh mostly looking over Cu Chulainn’s work schematics again as Hakuno tried to bum rush her homework.

Rani and Rin snickered across the table as Sakura pat her shoulder.

“Sometimes I forget to do my homework too.”

The girl passed her the candy from her lunch.

“You’re the best,” Hakuno cooed, sighing a moment before she resumed her work.

It was half-assed. It was sad looking. However, she had her homework done and, soon enough, turned in. She could actually manage to look her teacher in the eyes as she listened to lecture today.

And then there was freedom.

She was never so happy to be done with school before. She leaned against Gil as the teacher released them and sighed.

His hand felt nice.

It felt incredibly nice, coasting through her hair and brushing it here and there.

“You have work tonight, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then that means we’ll be researching how to return to Uruk.”

The man sounded so proud. She couldn’t blame him. She’d be happy too if she were returning to her home.

They made it just in time for her to work, the man meandering off to look through the library. She noted he still had her cards from the living room, pulling them from his gates before he began pilfering through the selection of texts.

“What a cuck.”

Hakuno sighed, glancing over at the man behind the desk. She raised a brow at him.

“I’m being serious!” Hans closed the book he was checking back in, nodding at Gilgamesh. “That guy’s definitely one of those philanderers who meander from one home to the next, pounding into whatever hole he finds. Male. Female. Other.”

The man was complaining too loudly.

“I swear, literacy is ruined by the brainless thinking they can simply swoop in and flirt with every woman worth looking at. The degenerates actually think themselves smart by doing this.”

“Hans?”

The man glanced her way.

“He’s married.”

The man’s mouth hung open for a full minute. “Infidelity?”

“He’s ah… Devoted.”

“Is he?”

Hakuno just gave a small nod before setting to work.

The books didn’t return themselves to shelves, after all. Her amassed collection left her heading through the older books, listening to the pencil scratching and page turning of the library. She could see Gilgamesh had found himself a place in an armchair near the fireplace, his hands firmly around a text as he attempted to flip through more cards and translate.

At least he was quiet.

At least he was calm.

She could work peacefully, surprisingly enough. With Hans making the small remark here and there about their blond guest, things worked out fine.

Things worked out just fine.

Gilgamesh had amassed a few more books by the end of her shift that she checked out. They tossed them into her bag and stopped somewhere to grab dinner. The two of them settled in her kitchen to eat and then Gil read while she worked.

Things were good.

Things were very good, she thought, finding them both back in the position from the night before. The man’s hands were roaming over her person, once again nuzzling and teasing her rather than pushing limits.

“Hakuno,” he murmured.

She hummed softly.

The king claimed her mouth with his own and she sighed, letting him once again have free reign.

It felt better when he was touching her anyway.

She’d missed touching him while she’d been working.

Her lips pressed against his face in fleeting affections, her hands pulling the blankets over them so that they could finally rest with one another.

I wonder if the king had been this cuddly before his becoming a cat.

Perhaps it was just her.