#why do I always with tasks like these feel like I 'missed the topic' regardless of what I write xD

[starsmuserainbow]

☺ I guess!

Let’s make it a ‘Sweet Sunday’: Send me a ☺ and I will compliment your blog!

Thank you for sending one! (Also now I'm realizing maybe I should've reblogged the meme on Saturday so that my answer/s actually happen on Sunday, whoops)

So! This meme says I should compliment 'your blog' which I'm honestly not sure if there is much to talk about - I mean, I like the color-mix of white and blue, and the stuff you post is always really wonderful to see, but this all doesn't really feel like compliments - so I'm just assuming that this surely means you as RPer or person or anything too!

I'm very very thankful that we're mutuals! I enjoy our interactions a lot, be it on here or in any combination with our other muses of our sideblogs! I'm very grateful that you gave my sideblog a chance even as it only really has OCs so far! But uh, yes, this shouldn't be me voicing 'thank you', this should be me saying good things.

Okay, yes, well! I adore Tsubasa, I think you have done a really nice job with creating (and continuously working on) your OC there! She's wonderful and I feel like she fits well into the world of magical girls, even though I still haven't found the time to watch any PreCure so I wouldn't be able to compare it to the canon! From what I know or have seen, I think you're a very nice and friendly person and that's really great and I'm very happy that we're mutuals and interacting! I don't know any of them but I feel like you're bringing your characters to life very well and give them more... more, uh, more substance? If that makes sense? Than what they probably have by canon-default. You're also often sending things in to people, or at least I feel like you do that for/to me, which is a thing that I think many many people aren't quite able or brave enough to (like me) so that's a thing very much needed and absolutely wonderful that you are doing it!

I think you're great and I hope that you're having a good time, because you'd deserve to have that!

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of turmoil

Yandere!Childe x fatui!reader

[Previous chapter]

Just as you predicted that short and stifled conversation was a portent of future changes. Childe stopped trying to talk to you outside the business, he even avoided your eyes in those rare moments when you looked at him first. Normally obnoxious and persistent Harbinger seemed to deflate in your presence, as his swaggering and blustering attitude disappeared within mere moments.

You would be overjoyed for this turn of events, if you didn’t have any experience of dealing with and tolerating Tartaglia. Childe, as you already established, is a chaos personified, an erratic whirlwind that twists and ruins everything in its way wrapped in human skin and caged by human bones. It wouldn’t be a surprise if some nasty complications arose out of this faux armistice and sneaked upon your unsuspecting self.

Ajax wont do anything drastic, you reassure yourself - the Rite of Descension gets closer and closer with each passing day, he just can't afford to fail this, meaning that he will have to keep you on-field. It would be logical to do so, let you work, but logical sometimes means predictable and nothing about Ajax is predictable.

Fortunately he continued to keep this strange distance as days passed. Was your little episode and words you said to him enough to stop him in his pursuit? Maybe it truly hurt him, maybe it made him see how miserable he was making you, maybe his obsession with you ceased to exist, it’s flames fizzling and going out just as fast as they ignited. You doubt all of it, yet continue to hope for the better, despite the evidence of the opposite shoved in your face.

Ajax will never let go of you, not in the way you want. He killed and tortured people right before your eyes, sometimes had you assist him in doing so. Most of the time this was done in Tsaritsa’s name, for the future of Snezhnaya and her people, just another working assignment regardless of the blood curdling screams and alien agony.

However, in some rare cases the torment of others isn’t something that is totally impersonal to you, sometimes you’re the main cause. Childe is possessive, terribly so. He watches over you like a dragon guarding his gold, scaring away other possible admirers. And if his title and reputation wasn’t enough to keep away whatever poor sod who decided to tempt the dragon, well, other way more grim methods were used.

You never personally witnessed these kinds of torture, but you heard rumours and sometimes saw the bodies after, images that keep reappearing in your nightmares. Maybe this lull is nothing but a quiet before the storm, a short breather after he commits some unforgettable atrocity again.

He personally summons you the day before the Descension. You brace yourself for incoming nonsense, except nothing comes. “Agent [Last]”, he says, his voice tense and restrained.”I need you to attend the Rite of Descension with me. You will be disguised as a civilian", and then he dismisses you, no hint of mind games he likes to play in sight.

You want to hope that he changed, you succeed and fail at the same time - this new Ajax is pleasant, he’s cold and disinterested, just like any boss should be, yet you just can’t relax and focus wholly on doing the job - it’s a privilege only those who haven’t met Tartaglia can afford.

He’s a sea, treacherous and ever changing, calm and serene in one moment, yet violent and crushing in the other.

You spend the day torn between the anxious thoughts of Tartaglia and what he might do and the preparation for upcoming ceremony - it's a once in a lifetime event, it's Tsaritsa’s will and hope, it's Ajax’s eyes focused on you. You can’t afford to fail, you have no right to do so.

Wearing a simple Snezhnayan overcoat with nothing hiding your face is surely strange after years of donning a fatui uniform. Tourists and Liyuens alike pass by, not paying you any attention. Both vision and delusion glow under the thick fabric, asking you to use them.

You walk faster.

The top of the Yujing Terrace is lit with sunlight and full of human sounds, as merchants and other workers haste to finish their tasks and join the people at the top. You look around, quickly noticing the familiar ginger - he stays half-turned to you, his eyes focused on the figure of Tianquan. You quickly avert your gaze, as if not recognizing him, and shift it towards other people - you spot two vision holders among the crowd too - an electro and geo one, and a strange person cladded in the exotic clothes with some sort of flying fairy(?) floating around.

You walk to the altar placing Liyuen flowers nearby the multiple offerings of food, wine and gold, their simple white petals contrasting against the gaudy luxury of the rest.

"Qingxin flowers?", someone suddenly says, a speck of genuine surprise evident in the phrase. Their voice is too close for your comfort - you quickly turn on the heels, alarmed by a person somehow sneaking up on you only to be met with a pair of the golden eyes.

It’s a nicely dressed Liyuen gentleman, with the air of wisdom and elegance surrounding him, an inner dignity shining from beneath, and most importantly the one you saw wearing a vision at the back of the coat. You try to look as calm as possible, despite the senses telling you otherwise - after years of service any vision holder unadorned by the Fatui colors is perceived as a threat.

“Yes, it is”, you quip back, not wanting to look suspicious: “Is this improper? Qingxin as an offering?”, you mimic a light concern - something that would be appropriate for the foreign merchant who might have offended the god of commerce.

“No, not at all”, Liyuen laughs: “just in all of my years, I have never seen anyone offer these flowers”.

“Huh”, you smile, looking at the man before you. Is he a simple liyuen you thought of him at first? He has Geo vision - the symbol of Archaic Lord’s recognition - and the way he said “all of my years” carry more weight than usual, a mark of something hidden beneath the mundane phrase.

“Something tells me, you must have attended every rite of Descension”, you continue, the starter vague and innocent enough - a perfect way to fish out more information. For some reason, his golden eyes widen a bit, it’s subtle and quick enough to go unnoticed by most people, but you’re not the most people - all Fatui agents are trained to catch even the smallest changes and educated in multiple fields, physiognomy included.

What could have caused such a reaction and why did he react the way he did? The Rite of Descension is a prominent event in the life of every Liyuen, even if it’s annual, as thousands of thousands of people traverse great distances to see their god fly down from the heavens and grace his subjects with the wisdom of countless years. You remember seeing Liyuens living in Snezhnaya consistently take a leave every year for a week, when the prominent date showed on the horizon, missing working days and no doubt a lot of nerves, only to see the archon of their homeland.

So why did that man looks so surprised?

“You’re quite perceptive, aren’t you?”, he responds, voice calm and pleasant, despite the masterfully hidden surprise: “And yes, I have always tried my best to be at every Rite to this day. Rex Lapis shares his experience with his people, so it’s an incredibly important day. And what about you? What brings a foreigner here?”, he makes a gesture at your obviously snezhnayan clothes.

“Well, I am a travelling merchant as you can see”, you raise your hands, showing him more of the coat: “Having blessing from the God of Commerce won't hurt, right?". He, again, reacts in the way you haven't anticipated, a handsome face adopting a contemplating expression for a short second.

"Rex Lapis rewards diligent people, work hard and he shall bless you too", he says with an air of wisdom around him, like an old enlightened monk passing his knowledge to the disciples surrounding him: "And you shouldn't keep your vision beneath the layers of cloth. I feel its chill just standing here, who knows what it will do to your body?".

Then he simply turns away and goes to the exit of Yujing terrace, and it’s your turn to suppress the rising agitation - how did he know, where’s he heading now?

“Wait”, you say: “why are you leaving?”

“I dedicated my whole life to my job, which consists of a collection of small and incredibly repetitive tasks, they took up most of my attention and I slowly, but surely became a creature of habit, deaf and blind outside its limited field of experience and comfort zone. Time never stops, so I decided to leave the work I’ve been entrusted with, and I want to start it by breaking my strongest habit - religiously attending every Rite of Descension”.

“Ah”, you reply, equally impressed by his speech, and feeling that you are talking about two completely different and unrelated topics: “well, good luck on that”.

More and more people flood the terrace as one of the main threats to your plans finally arrives - stern and ambitious, Ningguang looks as elegant and intimidating as ever, geo vision and the tassel attached to it, shaking with every graceful step. She throws a short glance at Tartaglia - he stands surrounded by the rest of the agents - yet her face doesn’t change even a bit, whatever hostility she may hold for your faction masterfully suppressed.

You quickly look around - tourists and citizens arrive at the last minutes and milleliths come with them. Soon, all of the exits are heavily guarded by at least four soldiers, all carrying spears and clad in armour - surely a necessary precaution, given the presence of Fatui and their Harbinger.

There are no milleliths among the crowd though, not in the on-duty uniform at least. You study the group again, this time looking for anyone with weapons, as someone lightly pushes you away - it’s that foreigner again. “I am sorry, we need to go closer”, the pixie-like creature apologizes, as it flies after the stranger, and you conclude that there are no armed people, except you, Tartaglia, milleliths, Ningguang and that strange person.

“The hour is upon us”, Tianquan starts, after looking at the bright sun above, two women around her slightly bowing down, as she invokes the power of geo. The gold glow surrounds and illuminates her whole figure, before condensing into hard rocks of the same shade. They shine and fly around her for a bit, leaving the yellow trails behind before starting to spin around the shrine in the middle of the rock table.

Soon the golden inscriptions on the shrine start to glow too, before it sends a bright orange beam into the blue sky. The crowd "Oh!"s and "Ah!"s as the clouds deform around the pillar of light.

Tension, so thick it can be tasted, descends in the waves upon the Terrace as some - carefree and ignorant - hold their breaths in excitement and anticipation, whilst the rest focus in caution - Fatui and Qingxin alike. You shift, taking out both vision and delusion out of your coat, as your eyes frantically shift between Tianquan, Tartaglia and the spiraling clouds above, your whole being ready to aid Childe in his mission.

And then something unexpected happens: a majestic dragon does descend to his people. By falling straight to the ground. Serpentine body slumps around the crushed offerings, elongated tongue escaping the confines of the maw.

A long second of absolute silence passes before Ningguang collects herself, checks the body and orders milleliths to close off all the exits, as the crowd erupts into turmoil and chaos realizing what exactly has happened. You disguise amongst the panicking masses, hiding two glowing orbs in the deep pockets of your coat,before looking at Tartaglia again - he in turn intently stares at the blonde foreigner, who quite clumsily tries to sneak past the soldiers.

Milleliths catch onto that running after the stranger and you use this opportunity, turning invisible in the same second. People around you are too panicked to question your sudden disappearance or the unnaturally cold breeze swaying past them, as you make your way - Childe has already departed, chasing after the group of soldiers, and Ningguang is seen leaving too, giving the last orders, before turning to the Yuehai pavillion.

You contemplate for a second, unsure what to do - Tartaglia has ordered you to aid him in case of Qixing intervention, there was nothing about the death of your target and the glimpse into Tianquan’s actions might be a key to solving the mystery of said departure. The thing that you plan to do is opportunistic, reckless even - who would have known that Ajax will rub off onto you? You chase after Ningguang, careful to keep yourself invisible.

Who is Rex Lapis’ murderer?

She goes up to the aged man standing at the stairs of the pavilion, they exchange a couple of words before Ningguang steps up on the little floating island and it starts to levitate! You run after her, still unsure what to do - the platform is too small, Tianquan will no doubt feel the chill coming from you, but the opportunity to learn what Qixing are planning is too good to miss.

In the end, you come to compromise, jumping after the rising platform, as your hands clutch into its rough protrusions and you grit your teeth, enduring the pain and cold from the vision overuse. The little island rises higher and higher, as people and buildings underneath turn into small dots. Your fingers start to slide off a couple of times, yet you grab onto the island with a renewed strength everytime that happens, asking Tsaritsa to let fortune favour you.

The platform finally stops moving, and you pull up, once you hear her heels clicking away.

Jade chamber, as it turns out, exceeds all rumours, luxurious and opulent, shining above the prosperous city, it glows under the sunlight with a golden radiance. You would have stopped to admire it if it wasn’t for your goal. You sneak after Ningguang, following her to the office as she takes out papers and folders from the shelves. She focuses on them, as you carefully step near her, glancing at what she’s reading - it’s reports of fatui activity throughout the months, leading to this day, thankfully vague and very far from reality.

Does it mean that she also has no idea of what or who caused Rex Lapis’ death and tries to find his killer? Or does it mean that she looks for a way to deduct Fatui's next actions?

You don’t have time to contemplate, as the frost worsens and you feel cryo energy exhausting from the overuse - one more minute and you’ll become visible. You quickly walk away - you don’t have enough time to reach that platform, so you do the most logical thing - fling yourself out of the window, opening the wings of the glider halfway the jump.

You push the most of your invisibility, letting go of the cryo powers once you're only a couple of meters above the ground. In the end you find yourself tired and frozen to the very bones, slowly coming back to the Northland bank.

***

You approach the building as the Sun begins to set - its pink-orange rays dying everything in the warm glow. The bank looks glorious like that, sinking in the reddish tones, it looks like an illustration out of children’s books - a place of something miraculous, a place of something hopeful.

“Hi”, you throw to the tired Vlad and he nods, after suppressing an escaping yawn: “Is boss here?”

“Yeah”, he croaks, drowsiness evident in his speech: “came back like an hour or two ago. Can’t really remember”.

“Huh.. Well, thanks”, and with these words you enter the bank, pushing the doors and preparing yourself for the confrontation to come.

After chatting with Ekaterina and confirming that yes, he is in his office, you head for the staircase, all of the information you learned today buzzing inside your head.

Childe sits, hunched over the papers, as you enter, not paying you even the sliver of attention. For some reason he’s in a different clothes.

“Eleventh Harbinger”, you start the standard greeting, all formal and stiff: “this subordinate has finished the task”.

This finally prompts him to raise his head, cold blue eyes look at you, no hint of the usual obsessiveness in sight: "you may speak, agent" he succinctly says, putting the writing feather aside. You quickly report to him all you have seen today, without your own thoughts involved - they’re just baseless theories, after all.

“So you say, Tianquan was reading the reports about Fatui activity. Haven’t you destroyed those reports earlier?”

“Those papers contained nothing about the current situation, they were actually far from reality, I doubt that any of those reports survived the fire”.

“Seems, I’ll have to take your word for it”, a sigh, he leans closer in his seat, propping left cheek on the palm: “Why did Tianquan look at them? What was she trying to do? Pin her crime on us?”, he glances at you again, gesturing that you can speak your mind and you do.

“Highly unlikely, sir. From the short time I spent watching her and her reputation, I have an impression that Qixing Tianquan is a person who prefers to plan her every action. If she or any other Qixing higher up, were the one who murdered our target, then every needed preparation would be done months, if not even years in advance. She would somehow cast us as the killers right at the ceremony, in front of thousands of Liyuens, making us a scapegoat for public outrage and creating alibi for herself”.

“So, that’s how you think”, he hums, blue eyes deep in thought: “Your entire conclusion is based on the mere impression. With Tianquan’s ambition I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one behind this...”, a vague hand gesture: “catastrophic situation”.

“When I sneaked inside the Jade chamber, she looked very frantic, it didn’t show on her face, but her movements were harsh and quick, lacking any of her elegance. She looked like she tried to keep herself together”.

“Anyone would try to do that, especially after killing a god”, he looks somewhere to the left, no doubt imagining battling the dead archon: “Well, my conclusion isn’t based on anything solid either. We don’t know who killed Rex Lapis, but we still need to somehow obtain his gnosis”, the last part isn’t addressed directly to you, it seems that Ajax just decided to voice out his worries.

“You can go”, he says, standing up from the table. You are touching the door handle, when you hear him asking:”what’s with your hand?”. The tone is nothing like that time, yet shivers still go up your spine when you remember what happened that day.

"Frostbite, from my vision", he comes closer to you, hand outstretched to yours: “Can I?”, he asks and waits for your faint nod, before gently pulling it closer to his face.

“It’s a second degree”, he mumbles, inspecting the white-blue discolorations and small angry blisters - the skin throbs and aches at his touch, yet most of it remains numb, muffled, like sounds underwater: “You should get it treated”.

“I should”, you agree, eager to leave this room and situation: “I will ask medics for some..”

“I already discharged them”, his hand suddenly shifts, now resting atop of the door handle, his frame suddenly looming over you: “I have a medkit here, with the ointments and balms. Maybe you should stay here and let me patch you up?”

Why did you even think that Childe could change?

***

Ajax has you sitting on his chair, with sleeves rolled up to the very elbows, as he frets around you - checking the temperature, pulling the warm water closer to you and taking out needed medicine out of the kit. It’s mostly silent, except the tune he quietly hums - Childe looks peaceful and content like this, maybe he likes caring for you.

“Does it hurt?”, he takes a discolored finger, probing around the blister, as the warm hydro energy engulfs your damaged hand. The burst of sensation explodes at this action - pain, tingling, throbbing, even relief.

“Bearable”.

“Understood”, Childe gets back to his task, continuing to rewarm your hands, still humming that tune as he does so. He takes out the healing ointment, when the healthy color and warmth returns to your limbs and spreads it on the skin, bitter herbal scent filling the room in an instant.

“[First]”, he says, as he rubs the place between the index and middle fingers: “I think we need to talk. About that day and your reaction”.

“And what about it?”, you respond, too quickly and snappy for the calm-facade - the memories of that day, of what you thought he will do to you, of how he witnessed you falling apart - all of these are too much, a maelstrom of conflicted feelings rising every time your thoughts stray to this topic. He finishes applying the balm and now switches to the bandanges, wrapping treated hands in them.

“Don’t you think you treat me too harshly, [First]? I understand I may have been… unpleasant in the Past, but I thought we moved past that. What have I done to warrant such ire?”, he says it with his usual smile, but there's a tense, heavy tinge in his words. It’s subtle enough to miss, but you knew Ajax since you both were fourteen, so the strain doesn’t go unnoticed.

Everything, you want to coldly respond, but you stop yourself again - Ajax is still a Harbinger, even if he trailed your steps at the training camp like an overeager and highly murderous puppy not even a decade ago, no matter your own feelings or sentiments or even experiences he still holds that power over you, whether he realizes it or not.

“There were.. things”, broken bones, coppery scent of blood, someone else screams: “training with you wasn’t pleasant for sure”. Childe laughs at the last part, yet the tension clouding in the air doesn’t dissipate, turning more tangible instead.

“I see”, a long pause: “I want to prove you're wrong, I want to prove you that I will never do something against your will”.

You already did. You stay silent at that, anger and fury and frustration boiling underneath, burning and scorching your insides like a magma moments before the eruption. His hands finally wrap the last layer of bandage, tying the ends into a neat little bow, yet he doesn’t let your palm out of your hold, as his lips hover over it, breath burning the skin even through the fabric. And then he releases it, not doing anything.

“Good luck with that”, you finally suppress the inner storm, and stand up from the chair, quickly heading to the door. The place where he almost kissed your tingles and throbs with a renewed strength. Your cheeks burn for some reason.

[songofclarity]

so i’ve been reading through some of your metas, and i’m confused by a few things.

why do you attribute jin guangshan’s decisions and endeavors to jin guangyao? jgy lacked the authority to make those decisions, and even trying to object would have meant ostracizing himself as unfilial to his father (*and* his mother), or provoking far worse consequences.

specifically, you attributed the tingshan he situation, the imprisonment of the wens, the campaign against wwx, and the decision to keep xue yang around to jgy, when all of those decisions were made by jin guangshan

the other thing that confuses is me is that when the topic of nie mingjue’s conflicts come up, it seems like you argue that nie mingjue is some combination of rational, justified, and/or (morally) correct every time, even though one of the core themes of the book is that no one is always in the right, and that everyone is capable of, and *does* do harm, whether they mean to or not.

is that actually how you feel, or am i missing something? i promise i’m not trying to pick a fight, im just trying to understand your thought process.

I really don't know where to begin with all this, Anon, so this might take a moment lol

Jin Guangshan is even more pitiful (derogatory) than Jin Guangyao in my eyes. That man literally can't do anything on his own and we see it over and over from how he doesn't know how to handle the breaking of the marriage arrangement between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli to how he's having to desperately ask for help at Langya during the Sunshot Campaign to how he's cowed into silence when faced down by Wei Wuxian's boldness and later by Nie Mingjue's wrath. That man is afraid of his own wife because he can't keep his business in his pants and yet his solution is just to hide in more brothels.

Do we really think Jin Guangshan is the evil mastermind of this operation?

Jin Guangshan is a coward at heart, but he's a wealthy and handsome and successful cultivator who is busy chasing one honeymoon phase after another with all the woman who are willing to flatter him because he's also Sect Leader Jin. So you can bet he has dumbass ideas of grandeur floating around in his head, and it's only made worse when the Wen are gone and the skies are clear for the taking. He's dangerous in the way rich, indulgent men are dangerous in that he doesn't think about the lives he ruins in his misadventures, but no way does this man know how to actually achieve anything real or build things.

Jin Guangyao though? Jin Guangyao has been working hard all day every day of his life. He knows how to get shit done. He knows how to turn vague ideas into something tangible.

And Jin Guangyao is desperate, and desperation can make people do really awful, horrible things.

We see how he is in the Nie Sect and the Wen Sect. No one has to give him orders. He volunteers and picks tasks for himself just fine before they are given.

Jin Guangyao has also revealed that he doesn't care what lows he descends into if it means getting what he wants.

Please remember that it was popularly known by everyone that Jin Guangshan never wanted Jin Guangyao or any of his bastards in his life, and yet Jin Guangyao worked very, very hard to push himself into Jin Guangshan's life regardless.

So, "Trying to object would have meant ostracizing himself as unfilial to his father (*and* his mother), or provoking far worse consequences" doesn't make much sense to me. Jin Guangshan never wanted Jin Guangyao's filial piety and Jin Guangyao's reasons for going to Koi Tower come from a place of entitlement, not obedience, with the idea that he deserved to be treated with equal respect as Jin Zixuan and live at Koi Tower and be Jin Guangshan's heir. Jin Guangyao felt he was owed these things because he was born as Jin Guangshan's son, not because he was a dutiful one.

So what worse consequences are you talking about, exactly? Jin Guangyao's reputation was already rock bottom at the start. His life was certainty never in danger except for when he made choices that got people killed and even then Nie Mingjue was the only one trying to hold him accountable until the cultivation world caught wind nearly two decades later.

It's also important to observe that Jin Guangyao claims he doesn't have power or authority only when he's been caught red-handed of wrong doing and needs a quick defense. Because if he truly had no authority or power in the Jin Sect, then we should be crediting Jin Guangshan with helping Lan Xichen rebuild Cloud Recesses, not Jin Guangyao.

And one of our key pieces of evidence to Jin Guangyao's autonomy under the Jin is Chapter 118 (villainous friends extra).

He Su spun around, only to see a group of Lanling Jin Sect cultivators drag inside sixty or seventy people all wearing the same uniform. There were men and women, old and young. Every one of them was a cross between shock and fear, while some were already crying. Both tied up, a girl and a boy kneeled on the ground as they wailed at He Su, "Brother!"

He Su was shocked speechless, his face instantly as white as paper, "Jin Guangyao! What are you doing?! It's enough if you kill me--why drag my entire sect along?!"

Jin Guangyao looked down and fixed his sleeves, still grinning, "Weren't you yourself the one who reminded me just now? Even if I killed you, I wouldn't be put eternally at ease. The Tingshan He Sect teams with talent, and from now on, you'd unite and never surrender--I was quite frightened. After much thought, this was the only thing I could come up with." (ch. 118, ERS)

So, in a scene very reminiscence to the mood when Jin Guangyao murdered those Nie cultivator in the Sun Palace, he admits to his victims that this was his idea. Do we really think Jin Guangyao was truly frightened of these people as he explains all this with a grin on his face?

The only people here to witness are the Jin subordinates and Xue Yang, who is a subordinate to Jin Guangyao.

[Jin Guangyao,] "Will you be free the next few days?"

Xue Yang, "Won't I have to do it no matter?"

Jin Guangyao, "Go to Yunmeng for me and tidy up a place for me. Make it clean."

Xue Yang, "They say when Xue Yang attacks, he leaves behind not even the chicken or the dog. Do you have any other misunderstandings as to how clean my work is?"

"Won't I have to do it no matter what," Xue Yang says, because Jin Guangyao gives the orders to him. Xue Yang was founded by and recruited by and trained up by Jin Guangyao. But just as Jin Guangyao gives a task to Xue Yang and leaves it up to Xue Yang to interpret how to implement it, by all means Jin Guangshan does the same to Jin Guangyao:

Jin Guangshan always threw his tasks whether big or small onto Jin Guangyao's shoulders, while he indulged himself nights in a row, making Madam Jin throw her rage all around Koi Tower.

Jin Guangyao gives the order for Xue Yang to kill everyone at the brothel where he grew up. Are the people at the brothel doing him or anyone else any harm? No. But these are people Jin Guangyao wants dead. Jin Guangshan is not involved in this order as Jin Guangyao specifies it is for himself.

Even though He Su was framed for a fake assassination, which is possibly and rather likely one of Jin Guangshan's big tasks--get rid of He Su who keeps voting No on making Jin Guangshan Chief Cultivator--it is Jin Guangyao who decides to drag in and murder the rest of He Su's family.

So Jin Guangshan gives the task of murdering one person, and Jin Guangyao turns it into sixty--and then adds some torture in there for sport, because Xue Yang requests it of him.

And this is only one situation. Judging by the ease of it all, it's certainly not Jin Guangyao's first rodeo with causing great harm to a group of innocent people.

But in any case, while some orders came from Jin Guangshan, not all of them did, and Jin Guangyao had authority on interpreting and implementing them as he saw fit.

As for Nie Mingjue, of course he isn't always in the right, but considering his actions tend to focus on protecting and helping people rather than sacrificing them for his own personal gain, I do feel he is more right than Jin Guangyao in all their encounters.

That Jin Guangyao even confesses that he knows the things he does are wrong but he is OK with doing them if it means grasping onto personal and political power doesn't make me inclined to see his actions as justified or morally correct.

One of the core messages in MDZS is that everyone has a choice. Wei Wuxian chose to help Lan Wangji in the cave, he chose to give his core away to Jiang Cheng, he chose to torture the Wen in revenge, he chose to rescue the Wen Remnants, he chose to take his secrets to the grave. Nie Mingjue chose to give Jin Guangyao second chance after second chance. Jin Guangyao chose to stab the Jin cultivator, he chose to marry his sister, he chose to poison Nie Mingjue. Lan Wangji chose to protect Wei Wuxian in the face of his family, and then chose to abandon his side. Qin Su chose to protect the identity of the person who gave her the letter. Song Lan chose to confront Xue Yang first before teaming up with Xiao Xingchen. Nie Huaisang chose to bring Jin Guangyao's crimes to light.

We see how some of these choices weren't easy. We see how some of these choices were done under duress. We consider how maybe some of these choices were the wrong one. Maybe a choice came too early or too late. Maybe someone might have been saved if another choice was made entirely.

The reason Wei Wuxian asks for them all to stop talking and just start fighting at the temple is because even our weary protagonist has had enough of Jin Guangyao's excuses.

Jin Guangyao had the ability to make choices just like everyone else. He had authority in the Nie and the Wen and the Jin to exercise his own will and stretch his legs or run away. But he wanted what he wanted and his choices clearly tied in with his ambitions and desires.

When Jin Guangyao claims to Nie Mingjue at Koi Tower that he can't do anything about Xue Yang because of Jin Guangshan, thus claiming he doesn't have authority to act, please think about his options at that moment: to protect Xue Yang or to kill Xue Yang.

What would happen to Jin Guangyao's ambitions if he were to lose Xue Yang, the demonic cultivator he has been training up to appease Jin Guangshan's interest of power?

It was never about Xue Yang. It was always about Jin Guangyao. When Jin Guangyao killed Jin Guangshan, he was quick to get rid of Xue Yang, who wasn't needed anymore.

Jin Guangyao's interests were aligned with Jin Guangshan's until they weren't, and then Jin Guangyao had the authority to not order the rape-murder of a bunch of innocent women in his revenge scheme.

And yet he still picked rape-murder.

So really, is the idea of Nie Mingjue being the more rational, justified, and/or (morally) correct one in the face of Jin Guangyao really that confusing at the end of the day?

[saphirered]

Could you write another fic for Kingsley? I absolutely adored The Lovers and there’s so little content for the pirate tiefling, it leaves me so sad. I was thinking something where the reader and him have been flirting for awhile but he’s still doubtful of wether they like him as Kingsley or they just see him as Molly. (The reader doesn’t, and they end up comforting him, just overall some of that good Hurt/Comfort)

Don't know why writing is taking so long for me but I blame the double shifts. Sorry this took so long to write. I hope it was worth the wait 😘

Some things are doomed to repeat themselves. Mollymauk had always been a huge flirt regardless of actual interests in people he knew exactly what to do and say to make someone blush. That’s not something lost in the resurrections. Kingsley is no different. Flirting comes like a second nature to the lavender tiefling.

Molly’s goal had been to make you blush a task difficult to achieve so when you quipped back each and every time the flirtations escalated to what some might consider inappropriate to be spoken in certain social circles. This little back and forth turned into a bit of a competition to see who could make the other blush or gasp the most because you did manage to get those responses of each other.

It was your game and when Kingsley began with endearing pet names you automatically felt yourself falling back into that habit. You don’t really know when you got back to the point where you’d be outright flirting but the gradual escalation happened before you caught on and since neither you nor Kingsley seemed to mind or made any efforts to stop your little game you continued to play.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and you were both in full force with the flirtations where you might make others around you blush. Even those used to your comments. That’s something both you and Kingsley took pride in. Despite your words you’re always mindful of each others’ hardline boundaries. There’s a mutual respect. You always know when to stop and not take it too far. Though that doesn’t prevent you from walking that boundary like a tightrope.

Currently you’re standing on the bow of the ship looking over the ocean when an all too familiar voice calls for your attention. You look over your shoulder fully prepared in case you have to quip right back.

“Would you mind moving that pretty behind of yours somewhere else, love?” You watch Kingsley standing spyglass at the ready to take a closer look at the islands up ahead.

“If you wanted a closer look you could have just ask.” You wink and blow him a kiss as you move away from the bow to let Kingsley take your place and take a look as he does you catch him glance at you for just a moment. Of course you can do nothing but put on your best seductive face.

“If you’re offering, the lighting in my cabin will be perfect for the occasion.” Kingsley returns with a half smirk lowering the spyglass. Leaning on the wooden border you make sure to arc your back just a little crossing your ankles as you look over your shoulder thoughtfully.

“Hm. Any suggestions for a specific spot? Lighting can be quite tricky. Maybe you should show me every corner of the room just to make sure the view is perfect?” You tease. The Tiefling’s smirk widens, task forgotten, he wraps an arm around you pulling you close to him.

Kingsley leans in and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you. Not that you would stop him. You’d grown to like him but since he’s new to the world you didn’t want to push him into the deep end before having had a chance to discover and figure things out for himself. Your hands slowly snaking up his arms to his shoulders you wait for him to quip back.

“Don’t make offers you have no intention to make good on.” Kingsley breathes removing his arms from you and taking a step back. You’re confused. Mixed signals? Not at all. Not to you. You know he’s a tease and so are you but this is not a quip back. This is a statement. Why? The flirty demeanour drops so you’ll reply with a statement of your own.

“Who says I don’t intend to make good on it?” You gage Kingsley’s reaction but come up blank. Nothing that gives away the sudden mood change. He excuses himself and goes back to work so you do the same; replaying the events of the day to figure out what may have lead to this shift. Still nothing.

Next day comes around and every attempt at flirting is shot down. You know how to take a hint and at first just assume Kingsley just isn’t in the mood or headspace to play the game. You’ll leave him be for a few days to sort out whatever he needs to sort out. No more flirting for a while until he initiates it. Your conversations are more cordial and less warm than they used to be but Kingsley doesn’t avoid you so you at least take comfort in that.

After two weeks you’ve had enough. Another day of work gone by, sun setting slowly you find yourself standing in front of the lavender tiefling’s door. Rapping your knuckles against the wooden door you feel confident the knocks are audible. There’s no response so you knock again but again nothing. A little frustrated you try the handle and the door opens. You don’t fully open it just yet.

“Kingsley? Are you there?” You speak softly in case he’s asleep. You hear a muffled grumble and decide to step inside. There you see the tiefling sprawled out across the bed on his back, pillow over his face held in place by one hand. He doesn’t move but you see the rise and fall of his chest; enough to give away he is breathing and in fact awake.

You close the door behind you taking a look around the room. As expected there’s very few personal artefacts; a spare shirt thrown over a chair, a coin pouch on the table, coins spilled, blue book, a pair of fine boots, an empty bottle and a half full one as well as a half eaten plate of food presumably for dinner. The light of the setting sun bleeds through the paned window providing just enough lighting to make out the finer details of the room. It’s well kept and actually surprisingly tidy. The bed’s made and the pillows neatly placed, the shoes next to the side table and a chest at the foot of the bed. Not a speck of dust or grime to be found.

“Kingsley? Are you alright?” You ask sitting down at the edge of the bed hesitantly. You’re not really sure how to approach him. You don’t even remember your plan you had before you got here. There’s a hum in agreement as the pillow is lowered from his face.

“Yes. Yes, I’m totally fine.” Kingsley sighs staring at the ceiling as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. He rubs his eyes and sits up facing you. He looks a bit tired but what did you expect after a busy day of work. You don’t look any different.

“Are you sure? You’ve been a bit out of it the past few weeks. I miss my flirty tiefling.” He snorts at the latter. Does he know something you don’t? Why the attitude? You’ll have to get to the bottom of this because you fear your- whatever it is you have with Kingsley depends on it.

“Fine then. I’m worried about you. One second we’re doing our thing and the next you push me away distancing yourself from me and giving me the cold shoulder. If my words upset you you should have just told me like you’ve always done. Why the sudden change? If you wanted me to stop or if I made you uncomfortable you should have said so.” You twiddle your thumbs awaiting a response fearful his shift behaviour was because of you because what else could it be?

Kingsley doesn’t answer just yet. A single glance at you and your stupid pretty face has him melting like chocolate on a hot day. He’s filled with regret because you’re right. He should have said something. Anything. You deserve that much but no, he had to be stupid and avoid the topic in the hopes it would go away. Problems don’t disappear into thin air. It requires communication.

A hand hesitantly grasps your twiddling fingers. You cease the motions looking at the man. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the look on his face is guilt and pity as he finds the words.

“This is not on you. This is on me being an idiot instead of just talking to you.” There’s a brief moment of silence as he silently begs the gods will be kind and you won’t hate him for bring this up. Then again, you’ve been nothing but understanding and patient in the past.

“No matter how much I love our flirtations I think they should end. If not for your sake, then for mine. It’s not… healthy.” You see him glance at the blue notebook on the table. So he’s read it. That explains the sudden shift. You’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever comes next fearing that what he might have read about you and your past has driven him to push you away. It’s his choice and his right but that wouldn’t make it less painful.

“I know now you had this thing with Mollymauk and now you’re continuing that with me. It snowballed into what we have-had but it can’t keep going. You’re holding onto a thread of the past and I feel like I’m trying to fill the spot he left just because I like you. It’s not healthy for either of us.” You give him a sad smile, your fears have been pushed down and you’re happy it’s not what you thought was going to happen but how wrong he is; it’s almost painful.

Kingsley is conflicted because he really does like you and wants to be what Molly used to be but he also knows he can never fill the spot of a ghost. Nor can he compete with it. He won’t force himself to be someone he’s not or fight to live up to the expectations even if he really wanted to because that’s not what a relationship of any kind is about.

“Kingsley… You fool… You really are a shit communicator.” You laugh. Taken aback he doesn’t know wether he should be confused or offended.

“If you’d only just asked… You’ll never be Molly and I do not ever want you to be so never try to. I like you because of who you are and yes we might have fallen into a habit he and I once shared but that ended and what we have is not the same. Never pretend to be someone you’re not.”

“Well, not unless you’re conning someone.” Kingsley quips. The relief your words are honest washes over him. It’s like he can breathe again or was holding a breath he didn’t know he was. He had been so afraid that facing you with his conclusions would drive you away forever. Maybe he really needs to work on his communication skills to you?

“There’s the Kingsley I know. Never pretend to be someone you’re not for me because you feel like you have to. That’s not healthy. Just be you. If you’re gonna make me fall in love with you, you don’t need anything but your own charm and that grin of yours.” You can see him fight that very grin from crawling up his face but it does anyway.

“I think you got me pegged, love.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively and smirk as he swats at you but you catch his hands. You’re about to comment but he breaks your grasp and pushes his hand over your mouth to quiet you down. You fight against him so determined to make your comment to the point you’re on your back held down by the tiefling, giggles muffled.

“When I remove my hand, you promise to say literally anything but the thing you’re thinking?” You nod and hum in agreement. Kingsley gives you a threatening look before slowly removing his hand to reveal your grin mischievously. Still looming over you awaiting any kind of comeback.

“You know, when you said the lighting in this room was lovely you weren’t lying.” You pat his cheek and trace the peacock feathers curling up his neck and side of the face as you bask in the final rays of sunlight illuminating the room in a deep orange glow.

“The view definitely has improved.” His gaze is on you not at all paying attention to the horizon. You laugh. So cheesy and he knows it. You become more aware of your current position. Some people might think it inappropriate but neither you not Kingsley give a single flying fuck. As long as you’re comfortable be damned the opinions of others.

“You know, when I suggested you showing me the corners of the room I had hoped you’d be more creative than starting with the bed.” You obviously feign disappointment. Kingsley accepts your challenge as you weave your fingers in the hair at the back of the neck pulling lightly to tease him.

“Oh shush you. Your words might come back to haunt you.”

“Is that a promise?” You bat your eyelashes but the grin on your face remains. Of course it’s a promise. You’re counting on it and Kingsley tends to keep his promises. Maybe this miscommunication is exactly what you needed because it lead to where you are now and wherever it might take you. The possibilities are endless and unpredictable. Just the way you like it.

[junicai]

frozen hearts.

| summary | Aria and Yuta bonding, feat. some less than pleasant discoveries.

| word count | 2.5k

| warnings | bad parenting (?), neglect

| era | circa. 2014 through 2017

Underneath a frozen river, the water will keep running in a steady flow. It doesn’t care for the layer of ice blocking it out from the world; it has a sole purpose. To continue flowing, to continue rushing down the side of the slight hill. Rivers don’t stop for a cold snap.

Similarly, frozen hearts still beat despite their layer of black ice covering the outer shell. They are hard, and cold to the touch - almost unbearable to carry for any length of time - but they have warm blood rushing through them regardless. 

The thing is, about frozen hearts, is one cannot be born cold. 

Each life begins flooded with light and love and happiness and warmth; it fills up each corner of your vision and everything is bright, bright, bright.

Like a pot slowly brought to the boil, or the temperature slowly dropped degree by degree - you’ll freeze without even knowing it.

Aria likes to believe that’s what happened, at least. She can’t resent them, not as much as her head begs her too, for her heart pounds against her chest screaming no.

Too many fond memories filed away to be taken out and gazed upon with a bittersweet smile curling her lips makes for an impossible task when asked to burn the bridge connecting them.

Part of her was reluctant to let go, because she still needed them, still wanted their care and their comfort like she had once received in mountains. Like a drug, it had been snatched away from her without warning, and now she was an addict weaning herself off of it, trying to ignore the pang in her chest.

The other part, was scared. Terrified even. Scared that should she burn the bridge, should she cut the final chord, that they wouldn’t even feel it at all. 

Call her cruel, but Aria wanted them to feel the pain she did when the bonds were snapped. 

But how can a frozen heart burn?

A new perspective. 

A new perspective can change the world, said her mother.

A new perspective is all that you need to change a catastrophe into something else entirely. Aria wasn’t sure if it was her that she was talking to, or if she was trying to convince herself. 

Packed onto a plane with her abhorrently bright suitcase and a handful of folded papers to he name, Aria was given a pat on the back by her father, and a one-armed hug by her mother. 

“You behave now, you hear me? Make your parents proud of you.” Her mother stood up straighter, brushing the non-existent dust from Aria’s shoulders. 

Aria nodded, letting her parents take a final once over before she was packed onto a plane, with a red sticker slapped onto her suitcase. 

Unaccompanied Minor. 

It felt like a tag, and Aria could feel the eyes following her around the airport as she just barely managed to navigate her way to her gate and onto the plane.

At the gate, she fumbled with the folded papers in her small hands, and yelped when two of them slid out onto the ground and fluttered open. 

Tucked inside one paper slip was her airplane ticket, the words INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA printed in bold across the top.

The airport hostess smiled kindly at the young girl, crouching down beside her to help collect the scattered things. 

“And where would you be off to? Are you meeting your parents?” She asked, smoothing out the creases in her skirt as she scanned Aria’s ticket through and the light flickered green momentarily.

Aria shook her head. Her parents lived in Dublin.

“Aria, don’t be ridiculous. You have a full career ahead of you where you are right now, why would you throw all that away for a silly little dream?” Her mother sighed lightly.

“You’d never make it as a singer - I just don’t think you have it in you, darling.�� She shuffled closer to Aria, tucking the girl under her arm. “Let’s stop daydreaming, hm? You have an early practice tomorrow, you need to get some proper sleep before that.”

Moving past the questioning woman, Aria took back her ticket from the extended hand. “I’m going to become a singer.” 

Aria knew she was small. 

She was an inch short of average height, and normally it wouldn’t bother her but when surrounded by a group of boys all going through the various stages of puberty at once, it became glaringly obvious that she was, in fact, quite short. 

Kicking her toe at the floor of the practice room, she scoffed slightly. Stupid teenage boys and their stupid growth spurts and their stupid long legs and their stupid voice cracks. 

They’d recorded the same segment of the song four times, because one of the trainees kept shattering his voice box anytime he went above a middle C. 

Now, nearing ten minutes to twelve, the others had packed themselves away and left with a goodbye called over their shoulder - leaving Aria to pace the spring boarded floor mindlessly.

“Akari?” 

Aria jolted slightly, whipping around to face the doorway from which a boy was hanging from. 

“Yuta-san! Oh, hello!” Aria bowed a little shakily, startled from her own thoughts. 

Yuta moved through the doorway into the practice room. He scanned around, frowning when he only saw Aria alone in the room. “Are you here alone?” 

Aria nodded. “The others, they wanted to go home but I needed to stay so I told them it was okay.” 

“The others?”

“My team,” She explained. “I’m training with the boys right now, and we’re meant to be putting together a piece for the evaluation next month.”

He stepped forward. “You’re training with, Hyunjae’s group? Why?”

Aria shrugged. “I don’t know either. They just told me to come here now instead of the other practice room, so I did.”

Yuta still looked confused, but Aria spun the topic of conversation around before he had the chance to ask another question. “It’s late, Yuta-san, shouldn’t you be at home?”

He blinked once, shaking his head lightly and looking back at Aria. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s dark outside, I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” She rushed to protest. “I used to walk home at night a lot, I’m okay with the dark now.”

Yuta bit the inside of his cheek with how fast he turned. “They leave you here alone a lot?” His face had taken on an incredulous look, and his eyes had a dark tinge. 

“No no, that’s not what I meant,” Aria waved her hands about. God this was a mess. “Back home, I used to walk home after training. So I’m careful but the dark doesn’t scare me.” She emphasized home, not wanting an angry Yuta to come after Hyunjae in the morning.

It really was okay...

“Well the thought of you alone in the dark scares me.” Yuta said with finality, walking to the wall and picking up Aria’s jacket from the ground. “C’mon, it’s not getting any brighter.”

“You know, you said something. Years ago, and I’ve always meant to ask you what you meant but I never got the chance to.” 

Aria flipped over on the bed, lying on her stomach with one eye open as she peered over at Yuta. The laptop with a film paused was perched precariously on the edge of the bed, and was beginning to slide off the duvet just as he went to grab it. 

His fingers curled around the screen right before it fell off entirely, saving it from a broken spine.

Aria giggled. “Nice save.” 

Yuta smiled, and pushed the now closed laptop towards the head of the bed where it would be out of harms way. Hopefully. 

Not willing to drop the topic just yet, he sat up and put his hands on his knees. “You said something about walking home, that you were used to doing it in the dark.”

Aria hummed, half asleep with the warmth of the room. She’d wrapped herself in a blanket earlier on and it had kept her toasty - but now the warm air was slowly making her drowsy. “My parents didn’t really have time, so I just. Walked.”

“Your parents didn’t have time?”

“To collect me. From the ice rink, I mean.”

Yuta’s lips parted, but the words died on his tongue. His head tilted in confusion. “How old were you?”

“Mm, ten?”

“Ten?!”

Aria giggled, swatting at him and missing by a mile. “Don’t say it like that, it was fine! It was a ten minute walk, I wasn’t going to die.”

Yuta’s eyebrows were nearly touching at this point. “Your parents, made a ten year old girl walk home in the dark, what, twice a week?”

“Three times. I had morning practice three times a week, and evening practice three times a week.”

“You were ten?”

“Mhm.”

Yuta sat back. “What, were you training for the Olympics or something?” He joked, a half smile finding it’s way onto his lips. 

“Mhm.”

The smile fell. “What?”

“That’s what my father told me. H’said, I was going to the Olympics to make them proud.” 

“That’s, nice I guess-”

“To repay what they gave me.” She finished.

Yuta’s relaxed demeanor had disappeared entirely, and now he was staring in shock and slight trepidation at the sleepy girl lying on his bed. She had moved closer in the duration of their conversation, and was close to having her head pillowed in his lap.

“What did you say, Akari?” His voice was soft, hiding a more concerned undertone. 

Aria whined, shaking her head. “No, don’t wanna talk about this. M’tired, m’going to sleep.”

“Akari no, two more minutes.”

“Goodnight.”

“Akari,” Yuta patted her arm, pulling her up gently. “Two more minutes, then I promise you can go to sleep.”

She groaned, turning to plant her fact in the blanket beneath her. “What, what is it?” 

“Do you -” Yuta started then stopped. “Did you like ice skating?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Aria rolled over, throwing an arm over face as she eyed Yuta suspiciously. “Okay, you’re acting weird. Stop acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird!” He protested. 

“Yes you are! You’re making me feel like I’ve done something wrong, stop it.” 

Yuta sighed, moving to lay beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Okay, I’m sorry. You haven’t done something wrong, don’t worry.”

“Then what’s with the bloody interrogation?” Aria’s voice was ladened with sleepy frustration.

“I just...”

“You just...”

Yuta pinched her arm. “Don’t mock me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you could string a sentence together.”

Yuta let his thoughts gather, collecting them together.

It wasn’t weird, was it? A lot of kids felt a responsibility towards their parents, wanted to repay them for taking care of them, that wasn’t unusual. But on the other hand, it was normally the child who decided to take on that burden, they were rarely instructed to do so by their parents themselves. 

Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember a single time where Aria has mentioned her parents; not at holidays, not during promotions. He doesn’t remember her ever stepping out to take a call from them. 

Had Aria spoken about her parents at all? It wasn’t a thing he would have otherwise taken notice of, but suddenly Yuta was wracking his memory, trying to find a single time where Aria had mentioned her parents, spoken about them. 

Yuta didn’t know why he was so worried about this. If there was a problem, surely she would have come to him? Come to someone? 

Regardless of the logic telling him that, yes, everything was okay, there was a sinking feeling settling in the bottom of his stomach. 

When asked about her family, Aria had always said NCT. Said that, NCT was her family; her home.

“Akari, when was the last time you spoke to your parents?”

Aria rolled her neck to ease the growing crick. She was still burrowed beneath the blanket, and Yuta’s hug was only pushing her deeper into a comforting sleep. “Last month, why?”

“What did you talk about?” He pressed.

“There was a problem with my VISA. Some of the adoption papers got mixed up or the name change wasn’t filed right or something.” Aria mumbled the words into the duvet. “Can I go to sleep now?”

Yuta didn’t respond. 

“Yuta?”

Aria lifted her head, blinking blearily at the older boy. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Yuta was not going to be sick. It was just a lot to process. Yeah.

“You’re adopted?”

“You didn’t know?”

He spluttered lightly, “You never told me!” 

“It’s not exactly a secret! Any article written about me has something about my adoptive parents written in there. ‘The heroic couple who gave a young girl a fighting chance~’” Aria snorted through her nose. 

Yuta’s head was reeling. Aria was adopted. That was fine. Nothing wrong there. 

But something still wasn’t sitting right with him.

“Is that what you ‘owe them’? The fact that they adopted you?” 

“The orphanage I was in was being closed down - I think I was going to be moved to a group home, but the week before it shut, my parents adopted me. It seems fair that I’d owe them something for that, right?” 

“No?” Yuta let out a winded chuckle, eyes wide. “Akari that’s not, how adoption works?”

“Sure it is. And anyway, I was good at ice skating. It’s not a big deal.” Aria rolled over back to her stomach with finality, clearly trying to signify an end to the conversation. 

Yuta wasn’t done. He had finalized on what it was that wasn’t sitting right.

“You speak Japanese. I thought you - did your parents speak Japanese?” 

Aria hummed. “No, I took lessons. They said it was good for the media - it changed their perception of me, I think. Made me more appealing.” The words were mechanical, and not her own.

“What does that even mean?!” Yuta’s voice was raised now, the boy sitting up.

It was like Aria was being treated like a show horse, trained in a few tricks and then sold on. What kind of people - 

“Yuta, please.” Aria’s voice was soft, and her eyes were barely open. “Please, I just want to go to sleep. M’tired, you can ask me about this tomorrow, okay?”

He sat back, mollified. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. You want to stay here, or?” 

Aria snuggled deeper into the covers in lieu of an answer.

Yuta ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay, that’s. That’s fine. Goodnight, Akari.”

Aria’s phone lit up from where the girl had tossed it earlier, making a small ping. He looked over momentarily, catching the two small notifications before the screen faded to black again.

Mother [1:48] The transaction should have gone through. Make sure to approve it quickly, we don’t want to be waiting like we were last month. 

[Bank of Korea] $850 has been withdrawn from your account by your contact “Mother”. Would you like to approve this transaction? 

[attack-on-kiwi]

Jean alphabet ?🥲😌

The crush I have on this man is embarrassing-

Jean Kiirstein:

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Jean is a simple guy. Any time he’s around his s/o, he’s content. Usually, he will let them pick what they want to do. He’s not averse to just spending a day tending to the horses and riding around valleys on them. He finds it freeing. It’s especially enjoyable if they two are sharing the ride and his s/o is hugging him just tight enough from behind and laughing into his back. He doesn’t think that will ever stop bringing butterflies into his stomach.

He looks forward to any sort of domestic activity. Sleeping in and holding his s/o from leaving bed, helping them cut up vegetables for breakfast, surprising them with flowers or sweets when he has the opportunity to- anything classic, sweet, and intimate.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

They bring him back to reality. He’s not idealistic in any sense- instead he tends to get lost in his thoughts and can spiral into negative outbursts. He can also become closed off, so having his s/o, who can snap him back to his sense and remind him that not everything has gone to hell (even though, it’s pretty damn close to being so), means the world to him.

Jean is smitten. Another guy who thinks his s/o is the most gorgeous being to ever grace the earth. He thinks they’re the most beautiful when. they’re concentrating on a task. The way they refuse to let anyone or anything get in the way of their objective, no matter how menial or grand, bubbles pride in him.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Jean would drop everything that can be put off to help his s/o. He absolutely hates when they feel upset, and he’s not that good at comforting people. He’ll just crouch down (or bring them down if they’re taller) to eye level and ask them what they need him to do. His voice is soft, laced with concern. 

Jean damn near might tear up himself if his s/o is upset enough. He’ll stay with them for as long as they need to, and then some more. He’s likely going to hover or keep an eye on them for the next few days to make sure they’re truly all right.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Jean wants to get married and have a family. He doesn’t care if the kids are biological or adopted, but he wants kids. He could settle for a son and daughter, but it doesn’t really matter. He’d like at least two kids to keep him on his toes. He aspires to give them the most peaceful life and wants to be present in their lives for anything and everything.

He’s terrified of the idea of becoming a husband and father, but it’s one of the thoughts that keeps him going. He knows he wants his s/o by his side for the rest of their lives. Considering everything they’ve been through, he’s already planning on how to propose.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Jean doesn’t think of being dominant or passive in a relationship. He can take initiative in most cases, but he’s not going to impose on his s/o. He’s present in the relationship, and will often check in with his s/o. to make sure that they’re okay. It’s important to him that they be transparent and aware of how the other is feeling, though he might bury his own feelings quite often.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Being as confrontational as he is, it’s not uncommon to get into fights. He never gets physical with his s/o. The two are rather prone to heated arguments that can escalate to screaming at each other if the conflict is serious enough. 

Jean absolutely hates that he can’t hold himself back. He’s too forthright with his thoughts.. He does try his best not to hit low blows. No matter what, his arguments are based on fact and he won’t rely on jabbing at his s/o’s insecurities to gain an edge during a fight.

He needs his space. Usually, this just means the two separate and cool down a few hours. The longest he will go without speaking to them is a night. First thing in the morning, he’ll try to calmly confront them and apologize for his behavior, asking if they can try to talk the issue out now that they’ve had some rest.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Jean’s a grateful man, even if his slight pessimistic attitude can point you otherwise. He doesn’t verbally say that he’s grateful, but his actions truly speak louder than his words. He’s always got an eye on his s/o, he stops them when they’re overexerting themselves, he can sense when all they need is to be held for a few moments, and he’s always seeking out ways to make their day brighter. 

One way he might allow himself to be vulnerable is sitting behind them in bed and clasping their hands together, kissing each of their knuckles lightly. Jean likes to speak just above a whisper, listing why he loves them.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

No huge secrets. He does hide how he’s feeling at times, especially if he is stressed and doesn’t want them to feel pressured. Jean does press his s/o to tell him whatever is on their mind, though. The two have an honest relationship. You have to be blunt if you want to work with Jean, after all. He doesn’t mind if his s/o needs to keep secrets, as long as it’s nothing serious, like their loyalty to him shifting.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Jean allows himself to be more sensitive around his s/o. Normally, he would never entertain being overtly emotional or softer yet around his s/o, he’s quite different. There’s a gentleness about him which no one gets to see any other time. Truly, he will keep this persona for behind closed doors, but it does seep into his day to day. He’s kinder to people after he’s spent time with his partner. 

He is fighting for the people he loves-- to guarantee they can live fulfilling lives, grow old, then finally die peacefully. It’s all he wants, and having people to fight for is his heaviest inspiration.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He’s secure with himself in most senses, but there are times when Jean feels like he could be giving his s/o more attention or time. He may feel a twinge of guilt if his s/o starts to deflate at the idea of asking him if he has free time because it hurts that they worry about getting in the way of his work. During these episodes, it’s easy for Jean to become suspicious of other people, specifically other men, that are hovering around his s/o more than before. If it bothers him enough, he will call it out.

Usually, Jean is to ashamed of feeling insecure to outright explain why he’s jealous. His s/o can gauge if he’s uneasy by how clingy he is afterwards.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Jean’s kisses are either shy or extremely passionate. Depending on how much adrenaline is rushing through his body, he can encapsulate his partner in a fiery lip lock that will leave them short of an accidental asphyxiation (sorry I need to shut up). When he’s sleepy or has been missing his s/o, he’s prone to soft, short pecks. He likes to whisper into their lips, most of the time, he will be saying, “Just one more” as he dozes off.

His s/o is his first kiss, so it’s about as awkward as first kisses can get. His mouth and throat were dry. He wasn’t sure if he should tilt his face. They would get close then Jean would fumble, trying to adjust for better access. Finally, he got frustrated and just crashed their lips together for not even a second before pulling away, face glowing pink. Don’t worry, he’s gotten slightly better.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Jean discovers early on. Within months, he’s positive he’s in love with his s/o. He is terrified of telling his partner due to fear of abandonment and humiliation that stems from a childhood of being bullied. (pry this from my cold dead hands). Regardless of how strong he feels, he won’t outright confess his love until the two have been together for a good amount of time. That can amount to months or even a year or so, depending on just how serious he’s feeling about the relationship.

He’s the type of person that is practicing in the mirror how to confess, and unknowingly, his s/o will hear him. If he’s lucky, they feel the same way and just walk in to tell him they love him too and watch his brain short circuit as it processes what just happened. 

On a serious note, though, Jean would be nervous to confess. He’d make a date out of the entire ordeal-- choosing to take his s/o out for a nice dinner and at night, as they’re stargazing in a remote field, he’d hold their hand and say he needs to tell them something. Even in the evening, it’s easy to see him heat up. He’d whisper it at first. His s/o needs to let him collect his thoughts, and as soon as he’s gathered them, he’d confess full throttle. His voice shakes slightly, but his conviction is apparent.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Jean fantasizes of getting married quite often, and this only increases as he gets closer to his s/o. 

He’s honest with his s/o and the topic of marriage comes up in late night conversations quite often. He’s confessed that once the fighting is over, they’ll get married the next day. There’s no proposal, just a promise that keeps the two fighting to live another day. His mother actually gives him her own wedding ring, telling him to get it resized if need be, but she hopes it can become a family heirloom. Jean’s a romantic, and this gets him flustered yet excited.

Peaceful. Marriage with Jean is as mundane as can be. Sure, there’s going to be times when old friends come wreck havoc, but it’s all taken in stride. He likes waking his s/o up with a kiss to the cheek. If they want to pat his hair dry or brush it after his shower, he’ll try distracting them with sly neck kisses. He wants his kids to see how much he loves his spouse and groan in disgust as they try to get their parents to hurry up so they can all eat. Jean’s content/

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

He calls them by their name mostly. Sometimes he’ll shorten it or give them an alternative where it’s the first syllable of their name with -y at the end if possible. 

Jean calls them beautiful and gorgeous when he’s trying to make them laugh.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

The beginning is akin to puppy love. He’s so flustered but curious about everything they do and say. He’s kind to them and chokes up around them when he hasn’t had time to formulate a response. Definitely the type of guy who stares at his s/o wistfully with a dazed grin on his face. He’s been caught doing this to them across the room on multiple occasions. Needless to say-- everyone and their mother knows Jean’s smitten.

He tries to express his feelings by complimenting them. If he can help them out with errands or studying (if they met during the cadet training) he’s more than happy to shave off time to do so. He likes being able to take a load off their shoulders, so he won’t mind doing a little extra work.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Jean acts big, but he gets shy. The only time he’ll ever really kiss his s/o in front of others Is if he’s being teased or egged on and he wants to show he’s not ashamed of his partner. He loves them dearly, but showing affection in public isn’t the biggest priority for him.

 If they’re out in the market, he loves having them hold onto his arm as they lead him wherever the like. If there’s less people around, he won’t argue with locking fingers. His s/o might catch him off guard with some sneaky kisses that are sure to provoke him.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Everything about his hands. They’re not as rough as some other people, though they aren’t insanely soft. He can give amateur massages and knows how to exert just the right amount of pressure to make the experience enjoyable, even for the most fidgety/ticklish s/o. It’s his secret to helping them relax and release pent up tension.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Jean loves romance. He loves being in love and having an excuse to try his hand at sappy love letters and poetry. He’s not the best, but what he writes down makes his s/o’s heart flutter. He just wants them to know how much he cares about them, even if he has a hard time expressing himself accurately. 

He’s the type of guy who picks up pastries because he remembered his s/o liked them a few weeks ago and the bakery finally made them again. He’ll polish their shoes if they haven’t had the energy to do it themselves. He’ll remind them to eat. His idea of making them happy is making sure that they are well taken care of.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s their biggest fan and simultaneously their biggest critic. Jean supports their endeavors, but he will not mask his opinions just to make them feel better. He’s tough on them because he wants to see them succeed. He’ll help them if he can, but he won’t hold them back from their potential by lying to them. 

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Jean loves trying out new things with his s/o, especially once the world opens up to them. He wants to explore everything, while still having some sense of routine in their lives. No dates that could potentially harm him or his s/o. He’s spending time with them, not trying to fight for survival, after all. Dates can be adventures-- he won’t mind going on hikes or exploring nearby terrain, however, he’d much rather try new foods and experience new technology instead. 

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Jean likes to think he knows his partner inside and out, but he’s conflicted about the duality of everyone in his life when push comes to shove, so he finds himself wondering if he truly knows them. This is just his insecurity and hurt surfacing, but he can spiral into pondering whether his s/o care about him as much as he cares for them. He knows he gives them opportunities to tell them about themselves, and he’s picked up on their quirks over the time they’ve been together. In reality, Jean genuinely does know more about them than he thinks he does. It’s hard not to feel comfortable around him, after all. 

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship is extremely important to him as he’s always had issues with letting people in on his vulnerable side. He has insecurity issues stemming from a variety of sources and knowing how people could use him puts him off from working on most relationships. Finding his s/o and being slapped in the face by the reality that someone genuinely loves him and wants to learn with him is eye opening. Due to this, Jean tries extremely hard to work on himself and the relationship as best he can. There’s no way he’d half ass something so good.

Though Jean’s relationship is on the. top of his priorities, his mission is still going to overshadow his desire to be with his s/o. It’s not that the mission is more important-- it’s that he needs to complete the mission so that his beloved can finally rest. He wants to protect them, and protecting them means he has to put his life on the line, unfortunate as it is.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Jean’s a mother hen to his s/o. He’s always nagging them to eat, sleep, shower and make sure they’re taking care of themselves. He’s always been in tune with the health of other people, and he just naturally wants to make sure that his s/o is in optimal condition. He will literally snap and physically force them to sleep if he needs to. He gets irritated if they’re neglecting themselves due to the fear of them getting hurt or sick.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes!! All he wants to do is cuddle. He loves holding his s/o, but he loves being held more. When they run their fingers through his hair and mention a silly hairstyle he could try, he almost considers it. He falls asleep on their chest almost every night. 

If he’s upset, a simple kiss to the cheek or head is enough to bring a small smile back on his face.

His favorite place to be kissed would be his temples. There’s something soothing and homely about soft lips brushing past his hair to linger right above his brow. It’s also a surefire way of inducing drowsiness in him.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Jean just bites the feeling back and swears that he will see his s/o as soon as he can. The idea that they will be waiting for him is enough for him to power on. Occasionally, Jean may doodle them in the margin of a report or in his personal journal. He thinks about what their next date could be and wonders if they ever found that stray cat they mentioned a few conversations ago. He thinks about them and all the things they can do once they’re together, and it’s enough to motivate him.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’s literally tryna save the world for them lol

~~~

Based off @snk-warriors​ fluff alphabet prompt

[writesowhatnext]

does it ever drive you crazy? // george weasley

Summary: lovers // you didn’t know when exactly it got hard to be friends with george weasley

Request: nee

A/N: so this is the last part!!!!! Very much hope you like and much thank to Erica ( @ickle-ronniekins ) for being excited about this bc if she wasn’t, I almost definitely wouldn’t have written this ALSO ok but scepticism is such a weird word

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: swearing

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

It didn’t take a genius to know where Hermione would be, you thought as you searched around the library for her huddled figure. You grinned as you approached her, the book in your hand heavy as you got closer. She smiled when she saw you, watching you with curiosity as you dragged the chair opposite her out and sat down.

She looked at you expectantly as you pulled out the book from behind your back and presented it to her.

“A first edition Moby Dick?” she whispered; her eyes glued to the cover. “How on Earth-“

“My parents. It’s for you.”

Her head shot up so fast you would’ve thought she got whiplash.

“I couldn’t accept-“ she said quickly. “Why?”

“I heard you decked Malfoy last year,” you said with a smirk, leaning your chin on your hand, pleased to see her so happy about your gift.

“Oh.”

“I just wanted to support any efforts you had to repeat the incident.”

She grinned widely, looking back at the book in her hands, hugging it to her chest slightly.

“Thank you-“

“Don’t mention it, Granger,” you insisted, shooting her a smile before turning to leave, only to be interrupted by George, who was crouching behind the bookshelf next to you.

“Why are you being so nice?” he asked gruffly, frowning. “You’re never nice; isn’t it against some super-secret Slytherin code to be nice?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

“Perhaps,” you said. “But, I’m nice to you.”

“Right,” he snorted, tilting his head to the side before looking behind you for something, or someone. “Sure, you are.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “I could be if I wanted to be… I just don’t want to be.”

“Now, that’s a lie.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, raising your eyebrows as he stared past you. “I think that not telling Pince that you’re pulling a prank in the library is quite nice of me.”

His wide eyes shot to yours in panic, not at all relieved by your smug expression. You didn’t say anything else as you left though, and as he watched you saunter out, he frowned. Had your lips always looked like that when you bit them? Why had he noticed?

“Ready, Georgie?” Fred asked, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he looked between your disappearing figure and George’s confused face.

“Yeah, yeah, course.”

After spending the day with them at Hogsmeade, you started spending more and more time with the Weasley twins. You were more surprised than anyone at how much you were enjoying yourself. The new year changed nothing and so, as sixth year rolled around, you found yourself on quite friendly terms with the idiots you’d actually come to enjoy being around, even when they had a tendency to ambush you in corridors.

“What you up to, Y/N?” George asked, scaring the shit out of you as you walked down the hallway. His presence at your side was looming and you tensed at the proximity. Fred appeared over your other shoulder, gifting you with matching shadows.

“Causing trouble?” Fred said conspiratorially.

“Could I ever with you two prats around?” you said, only just noticing their massive grins. “No doubt whatever you’re about to pull will backfire astronomically.”

“Y/N,” Fred gasped, placing his hand on his chest. “Ye of little faith! Do you not trust us?”

You hummed as they stopped outside the Great Hall which was seemingly always full nowadays with people trying to enter their names for the Triwizard Tournament.

“Not particularly, no,” you said, eyebrows raised.

“Oh!” George exclaimed, clapping his palm against his chest exactly as his brother had done. “Dear Y/N, you wound us with your scepticism!”

You shot him a dry look, frowning lightly at the way your stomach twisted as he grinned at you. You leant in the doorway as they rushed inside; their entrance met with a chorus of cheers. Watching them talk to Hermione, you let your head rest on the stone archway. They were such idiots, you thought as you regarded them, your eyes lingering on George’s face, animated as ever.

When they moved closer towards the goblet, you were caught off guard by Hermione’s pointed stare, a smirk playing on her lips. You frowned in confusion and she only shrugged; a very irritating, very knowing shrug. Annoyance coursed through you as she avoided your eyes and you were in half a mind to walk over to her before Fred and George were all but ejected from the cup’s perimeter, soaring backwards as grey hair sprouted all over their faces.

A laugh of disbelief escaped your lips and your hand flew to your mouth as they began to scrap on the floor, rolling around like children even though they looked more like OAPs than reckless tweens. You snorted at them, not at all aware of Hermione’s eyes on you, a curious smile on her lips.

The Triwizard Tournament was the talk of the school and despite the undeniable rush that gossip and competition provided, you found yourself avoiding the whole business entirely. You didn’t know Cedric Diggory too well and you didn’t care all that much for Krum or Fleur Delacour; Harry was another matter, though, and whilst you cared about whether he lived or died, you didn’t think you’d be having sleepovers anytime soon. 

And so, you just kept to your studies. Regardless of how crass it sounded, life still went on and whilst the champions were battling dragons, you still had essays to write and tests to revise for. With that said, you did enjoy destroying those stupid badges that had swept through Hogwarts like the plague.

In your spare time, you found great joy in hitting them mercilessly with your quidditch bat, pummelling them until they turned black and stopped with that ridiculous “Potter stinks” slogan. Sure, magic would’ve done the trick, but it was nowhere near as much fun. You were on your fourteenth badge when a presence behind you startled you.

“What’re you doing?” George asked, his tone curious as he stood next to you with his arms crossed.

“Target practice,” you said, not pausing to chat as you threw another badge in the air and sent it slamming into the stone wall opposite.

George didn’t say anything for a moment; he just watched you with a small smile.

“You know, your heart isn’t as ice-cold as you want people to believe,” he said slowly, frowning as he examined your features.

“Is that right?” you asked, your voice deliberately devoid of emotion. “Anything more you’d like to tell me about myself?”

You could feel his eyes on you as you spoke and you cursed the part of your brain that wanted so desperately to blush under the weight of his stare. You swallowed, adjusting your grip on the bat. You could’ve sworn that he didn’t have this effect on you the day before, but your mind wandered back to the strange incident in the hallway outside of Snape’s class and you missed the badge you’d just pitched yourself.

Things with George had gotten weird. You couldn’t place when exactly, but the easy banter you’d developed hardened and you found yourself avoiding him more often than not. It wasn’t easy, though, given the fact that you were supposed to be friends and given the fact that you looked for him around corners, almost disappointed when he wasn’t there. 

On some occasions, it was much harder to avoid him than others and despite how much you’d have liked to, you could hardly move when they sat opposite you in silent revision. That would just be rude. You ignored them for a while, acutely aware of their presence when George started muttering to Fred, his voice growing louder and louder.

“Oi, pea-brain,” you hissed, clicking your fingers to get their attention, a strange feeling climbing up your spine as George’s eyes fell on you. “Shut up.”

Fred rocked his head from side to side, imitating you and earning himself a hard kick in the shin under the table.

They managed silence for a whole nine minutes before Fred started poking you with his quill.

“Psst,” he said loudly, prodding you with his finger this time. “Hey-“

“What?” you snapped, scowling at Fred’s pleased grin, not unaware of George’s gaze also on you.

“Did you see the first task?”

“Of course, I did,” you said, returning back to your parchment.

“And?” he pressed, leaning forward.

“And, what?”

“What did you think?”

You paused, looking up from your paper to meet Fred’s eyes. You’d known him well enough long enough to notice when he was up to something. You glanced at George to see if he had the same devilish glint only to see him looking down, though it was obvious he wasn’t doing much with his stationary quill. With your eyebrows drawn down, you looked back at Fred, watching as he raised his eyebrows pointedly.

“Cedric was great, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, I suppose…”

You leant back slightly, confused as to why Fred was pushing the topic so much. Then, though, you realised. It was the way George’s brow furrowed at Cedric’s name that sparked your interest and as you glanced back at Fred, you raised an eyebrow. Was George jealous? Fred nodded.

“He was brilliant, actually,” you said conversationally, rolling your shoulders back. “The transfiguration of the rock into that dog? Quite ingenious to distract the dragon like that.”

“Anyone can do transfiguration,” George muttered under his breath.

A smile quirked at the corner of your lips as you turned to Fred, only growing as he made an upwards motion with his hands, urging you to amp it up a bit.

“And Krum’s conjunctivitis curse? Sort of brilliant for such a meat-head…”

“Sort of brilliant,” George scoffed, shaking his head as his grip on his quill tightened. You considered your interest piqued as you watching him closely this time, gauging his reaction.

“And, well, Harry’s always been an excellent flier, hasn’t he?”

As George rolled his eyes, you snickered, looking to Fred in disbelief.

“George, are you jealous?”

His head shot up quickly as his wide eyes met yours. “Me? What?” he spluttered unconvincingly. “Why would I be jealous?”

His question, to his credit, stumped you. Why would he be jealous? You supposed that an attention seeker like him would love the fame of being a Triwizard champion, but Fred and George still managed to be the names on everyone’s lips with their betting service. It had to be that, though, right? There was no other reason why he’d be jealous.

“No reason,” you said shortly, turning back to your essay.

This time they managed seventeen minutes in silence before George started asking Fred about Potions, a subject Fred knew very little about given his partner was Angelina Johnson. To say he was distracted in those lessons would be a gross understatement.

“I don’t know, mate,” Fred said apologetically, frowning when George groaned. You told yourself not to, but the words were already spilling out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop yourself.

“I can help,” you offered, sealing your mouth shut. When you did you get so bloody helpful?

“Really?” George said, his eyes so earnest a lump formed in your throat. You could only nod.

“Brilliant,” he grinned, sliding over his parchment. “What the bloody hell does this mean?”

For all his faults, George, you had to admit, was smarter than he looked.

“So, you add horned slugs if-“ he cut himself off when Seamus Finnigan sat down next to him, immediately and easily drawing his attention away from his work. You couldn’t contain your eyeroll and you didn’t try to.

“Those Beauxbatons girls…” Seamus mused, shaking his head. “They’re grand, aren’t they?”

“I’ll say,” George agreed, lighting up. “There was this one the other day that me and Fred bumped into and blimey she was-“

“Maybe she could help you with potions,” you said, your tone more venomous than intended as you leant back. You recognised the prangs of jealousy in your gut and clenched your jaw at the feeling.

“Are you jealous?” George asked, barely able to fight the smile on his lips.

“Am I-“ you rushed, tutting. “Of course, not. Why would I be jealous?”

George narrowed his eyes but left well enough alone when Seamus once again garnered his attention and you were left asking yourself the same question over and over again. Why would you be jealous? 

You didn’t have an answer when Hermione stalked over to you in the corridor with a determined look on her face and an armful of textbooks.

“You like George,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You hoped it wasn’t.

“I’ve been accused of many things, Granger,” you said, walking away as she followed. “But never something as awful as that.”

She scoffed, much to your dismay.

“Right, but I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

You swallowed. “With contempt and thinly veiled hatred?” you suggested, though your tone was far from credible.

“Like you’re in love.”

That, of all the things she could have said, very quickly broke your composure.

“Give off, Hermione,” you said harshly, partially thankful for being able to so honestly and full-heartedly deny something.

“Fine, fine, alright,” she said, raising her eyebrows as you stopped before a staircase. “But at least admit you like him.”

“Maybe I like like him,” you replied childishly, trying unsuccessfully to avoid thinking about it.

She shot you a dry look.

“We both know you do,” she said matter-of-factly, disappearing back the way you came and leaving you to stew on her words as you stomped up the staircase.

You couldn’t like George, right? He was George. He was stupid and irritating and reckless and the year before you’d hated his guts. Things couldn’t change that fast, could they? Could they?

What you didn’t know was that George had been asking himself the same thing.

“Shut up, Fred, I do not-“

“Right, sure. You definitely do not fancy Y/N. Gotcha!”

“I’m serious, Freddie,” George said lowly, throwing a scrunched-up ball of paper at his brother across the Gryffindor common room.

“So am I, Georgie,” Fred said, sitting up. “Anyone with half a brain-cell could tell you’re mad for her.”

“Mad for who?” Harry asked, strolling through the portrait hole with Ron hot on his heels.

“Y/N,” Fred replied, smiling at George’s sigh.

“Oh, right,” Harry said, sitting in one of the armchairs.

“What the bloody hell do you mean ‘Oh, right’?” George said, his tone exasperated.

“Well, it’s kind of obvious,” Ron said, shrugging. “You guys hated each other a few months ago and now you’re making googly eyes at each other all the bloody time.”

“Oh, piss off, Ron,” George groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “You don’t know anything about girls.”

“Oi!”

“He’s right though,” Fred insisted, kicking at George with his foot. “Why do you think you were so jealous when she was chatting about Cedric and Krum?”

George, as a rule, hated it when Fred was right. He hated it even more when Ron was right and so, as he walked down to the dungeon to find you, he was not in love with the whole situation. It was annoying, really, that they thought they knew so much. It was more annoying that they did know so much. Even a broken clock, though, he figured, was right twice a day. 

As he slipped through the Slytherin common room charms, he was taken aback by the memory of him doing exactly the same thing not two years ago and a strange feeling clenched at his chest.

Seeing George Weasley in your common room was never a good sign, and as you noticed him by the doors, you knew that he would have to leave very soon before he got hexed or worse, before Malfoy started to talk to him.

“Oi, Y/N,” he said, finally spotting you as you walked towards him, already fully aware of his presence.

“George,” you replied, nervousness brewing inside your stomach. It was the first time you’d been alone with him in a very long time.

“Do you-“ he began, swallowing as he looked down at you. Your words lodged in your throat at the serious look in his eyes. “Do you fancy going to the Yule Ball, by any chance?”

You raised your eyebrows, your eavesdropping audience long forgotten as you stared at him.

“With me?” he added, frowning.

“With you?” you repeated, trying to ignore the echo of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Yes.”

You both stared at each other for a moment.

“Are you asking me out?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Your mouth twitched at his uneasy tone, finding his nerves quite endearing.

“Alright.” You said, nodding, a small smile growing on your lips.

“Yeah?” he asked, his whole face lighting up in surprise.

“Yeah,” you repeated, biting your lip as you grinned at him.

“Brilliant,” he breathed, his cheeks hurting as he beamed. His confidence seemed to flood back to him as he looked at you again, standing taller than he had been. “I mean, we could just skip the ball and just make-“

“Don’t push it, Weasley,” you said, raising an eyebrow. You wetted your lips, fully aware of his eyes on them. He glanced up to meet your gaze, pleased to see the same mischievous twinkle he knew so well.

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[tinisprout]

No Doubt in Us

Chapter Seven - They'll Be Fine *written chapter below*

Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader

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Synopsis: Life is great, you have your dream job, you finally got your first big break, and you are now engaged to the love of your life. Happier than you’ve ever been, you live life one day at a time. Then one day a terrible accident happens leaving you in a coma. Where you finally awake, everything is not as you remember. Amnesia takes away 3 years of your memory, forgetting your beloved Fiance. Faced with a reality that seems unreal, as your mind is stuck in a past with uncomfortable memories, your future with him is uncertain.

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Taglist:@my-summer-night @deputyjuyeon @juhaktheoneforme @sunqnew

Sorry for the late chapter I've been very busy

Word count: 3.6K

Neither of you knew who fell asleep first, let alone at what time you fell asleep. What you did know is that it wasn't enough sleep. Both of your eyes were red and heavy after waking up by your alarm. Maybe setting it to 9:30 was a mistake. You look at Haknyeon who was sitting up trying to keep his eyes open.

"You know I love you, but I blame you for this." He uses his hands to refer to both of you.

"Excuse me, if I remember correctly we both were tweeting, Diamonds aren't forever lyrics." Bickering like this with him seemed to be so far away before yesterday, but after talking with him last night you felt a lot closer, he felt like a friend.

"Ugh fine, equal blame." He smirked, enjoying this little banter. You get up from the floor hitting your face to wake you up a bit more.

"Better." You reach your hand out to him, and he takes it pulling himself up. "Alright, clean up time." You swipe your phone off the ground checking to see if there was anything new. Just in time, your phone buzzed a new message from your mom.

Mom: Hey Honey, I know we said we'd come over noonish, but your father got very excited to make something for you guys. He already bought everything, so forewarning. We'll be there in an hour give or take. See you soon.

You turn to Haknyeon showing him the message. When he looked back up at you, you asked, "Since when did my dad cook?"

"Hmm, maybe a year now?" He says almost unsure of it himself. "But that's a story for later, your dad will love to tell you. We have about an hour to get this place in order before they come." You text her an, “ok”, back.

"Okay, let's get some speed cleaning done." You both work together to fold the big comforter. "I'll bring everything back upstairs." Haknyeon nods at you.

"I'll take care of the kitchen area," he calls out to you. You felt a little bad, you left a lot of dishes there. I'll just work faster so I can do other things. The sounds of clinking dishes and shuffling feet filled the house, both doing various tasks around their home. When they were finally satisfied with their work they both went to sit down on the couch to rest.

As if cursed preventing you from resting, a knock came from the door, making you both stand up again. You check your phone, 10:53 a.m. a little over an hour from the time your mom said. You both scurry to the door. You could hear the familiar voice of your mother conversing with your father, it brought a smile to your face. It felt like it had been such a long time since you last saw them, and maybe that was the case, you weren’t sure. Still, you opened the door eagerly for them.

“Mom,” you say with a big smile on your face. You see that she is carrying bags in her arms and you take them from her, ushering her inside. “Come in.” Following behind her was your father with bags in his hands as well, “Dad.” You set the bags down and your father does the same.

Everyone except Haknyeon was crowding the entranceway. You looked at your parents, they seemed a little bit older than the image you had of them in your memories, and you felt your throat tighten. When they looked at you, they scanned you from head to toe, touching your face, lifting your arms, making sure you were really okay. Their actions make you chuckle, “I’m okay, I promise,” you say trying to reassure them. Their baby girl was really okay.

“You’re okay,” Your mother wraps you in a hug, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay, honey. I promise.” Your words being thrown back at you like that made tears prick your eyes. You brought one of your arms around your mother and your other hand reached out and tugged your father’s shirt urging him to join you two. Creating this group hug the three of you had a tearful reunion, saying I love and I miss yous to each other.

Despite how close he was to your parents he still felt like it wasn’t his place to be there in your moment, so he waited patiently by the side, smiling at the happy little family reunion. Your father pulled away looking and looked in Haknyeon’s direction while wiping away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Come here, son. You’re part of this family too.” Haknyeon was shocked by your father’s words.

Regardless of how close he was to your family, this moment felt like it was too personal to be a part of, especially with how things are now, so he hesitated to come closer. You and your mother pulled away from each other and she looked to Haknyeon as well. “It’s okay, Dear. Don’t act like a stranger.” As she said that, your mother spread her arms out, welcoming him. Your parents looking at him as one of their own, Haknyeon felt overwhelmed with emotions. They looked so sincere to him and he couldn’t deny them, so he came to them as they wished.

“It must have been hard on you too.” The three embraces and Haknyeon felt a different kind of comfort compared to his friends’ comfort. This parental comforting feeling that he didn’t know he was craving. Since the whole incident, he didn’t tell his mom about a single thing, he knew she already had a lot on her plate, he didn’t want to stress her out. Tears pooled in his eyes, your parents could feel his shoulders tremble and their hearts broke.

Crying the stress away felt so much relief and gratitude for your parents. Haknyeon thanks them and everyone takes a moment to clean themselves up, wiping away the tears, this peaceful calm now over the room. You and Haknyeon both take the bags your parents brought and lead them further into the house, dropping the bags off in the kitchen. “So, Haknyeon said I should ask you guys about Dad cooking. Why is that suddenly your thing?” You ask, bringing in a topic that should be a happy conversation.

Your parents hum at the same time thinking. “It’s definitely because of Haknyeon,” your mother says while nodding her head.

“It was when we came over. You are your mother went to go get something, so you left the task of cooking to Haknyeon,” your father chimes after. You look to Haknyeon and he nods confirming your father’s answer.

“I had your dad help out a little here and there. I think he first got interested in the seasoning process.” Haknyeon smiled as he thought back on the old memory. Your father and Haknyeon recounted their first cooking experience together, many laughs filled the house. Then your mother piped up at the end of the story looking at you.

“Needless to say when we got back home, take-out needed to be ordered. Whatever scaps they salvaged was not enough to feed the four of us.”

“I was lucky your mother let me touch a stove again, let alone walk in the kitchen.” Your father passes a playful smile to your mother.

“That’s right, you’re lucky that the scraps you offered were not that bad. Now that I think about it that was Haknyeon’s doing, wasn’t it?” She teases him and your father feigns sadness.

“It hurts me that you would think that way, Dear.” This familiar banter between your parents brought a smile to your face, they were still as in love with each other as you had always seen them. Your eyes subconsciously moved to Haknyeon, a smile still holding on to your face. You didn’t expect to see Haknyeon's eyes already on you, the corner of his lips lifted, your eyes went wide. Haknyeon, as if caught doing something bad looks aways, but realizing how silly he must look, his eyes found their way back to you.

He gave you a bashful smile and you tittered at the display. The moment is broken up by your mother motions you over to her. "Well you boys can have fun cooking together again, I need to catch up with my daughter."

"Have fun, Ladies. We'll call you if we're done here before you." Your father shooed you away from the kitchen and took your spot by Haknyeon. You and your mom decided to go out to the back porch, taking a seat at the small table set up you had.

"So, honey, how have you been lately?" You sigh.

"I have been better, but I'm working on it."

"And what about you and Haknyeon?"

"It was a little difficult at first, but we decided to try and work it out. He seems really nice and he is fun to talk to, but I don't know if I can fall in love again, it's all feels so sudden.”

“That’s understandable. We love Haknyeon, but if you feel he isn’t right for you anymore, don’t be afraid to say so. We’ll be here for you no matter what.”

“I know, I think falling for someone like him would be nice, but life isn’t that easy.” Knowing how your relationship was with Haknyeon, she thought it was almost impossible that you wouldn’t come to love him again, but she kept her mouth shut. That was something you needed to figure out on your own, she didn’t want you to feel like you had to be with him, even if that’s what she hoped for.

“What about your friends how have they been fairing with this?”

“We’re good, I think. They are understanding about everything even the ones I don’t remember. They seem like good people.”

“You always had good taste in friends, if Chanhee is any indication of that.” You release a deep sigh, feeling your soul shrivel up at the thought of Chanhee. Your mother looks at you with confusion, “What happened?”

“We got into a little argument.”

“Some things just never change do they,” She chuckles. Watching the both of you grow up she witnessed some of your fights and had sometimes been the one to help you two patch things up. “You’ll be fine,” she really wasn’t worried, the two of you always found a way to make up.

“Yeah, I’ll work on it.” The conversation veers off from its current direction. The two of you talked about what you could and couldn’t remember. She told you about stories of yourself she could recall, and then some stuff about her and your father. There didn’t seem to be a big change with them and that brought comfort to you, knowing that some things were still the same as you remembered.

Meanwhile, inside the house, the two men were cooking. Your father was instructing Haknyeon on how they were going to make lunch. When the cutting proceeded, your father spoke up first.

“So, have the two of you made any decisions yet?” it was a sudden question but he could only assume he meant about the status of your relationship.

“Well it was a little complicated at first, but she said she wanted to try dating me again, so we kind of started our relationship over again.”

“You think you can make her love you again?”

“I- I’m trying to be hopeful. What she saw in me before, she can see again.”

“Personally, I don’t think you should worry that much. I’m not saying to not try and win her over, that will still take some work, but I can’t see her not falling in love with you again. Do you know how much happiness you brought her? I think you’re already set up for success, just don’t screw up.” With his last words, the knife he was using slammed into the cutting board with a loud thud, cutting through a carrot and the cut-off piece went flying.

“Please be careful,” Haknyeon says as he picks up the carrot piece and throwing it away.

“That was an accident, I was distracted.” He stops trying to cut and looks a Haknyeon. “But on the off chance that things don’t turn out good and she decides that she can’t love you, through no fault of your own, then just know whoever she picks after, I won’t like them as much as you. You’re like the son I never had.” Nothing like a little dark humor to lighten the mood.

“Thank you, Sir.” Haknyeon felt sheepish at his words, even though it wasn’t the first time he’s said something like that. Light-hearted small talk continued as the two continued prepping, besides the one mistake in the beginning the cooking process goes on without a hitch. Soon enough the house filled with a tantalizing smell. When all is done, your father goes outside to call you can your mother back for food.

When you finally come back inside with your mother you are greeted with the sight of Haknyeon contentedly setting the table for everyone with care. Your eyes lingered on him, looking at the half-smile to yourself, His smile is nice. It gives him a friendly endearing look and you didn’t notice you started smiling looking at him till your mother nudged your arm, dragging you back to reality from the daze you were in, giving you a knowing smile as she looks from you to Haknyeon and back. You turn away from her not saying anything feeling flustered at the realization of what you were doing and walk ahead of her. You could hear your mother snicker, this causes Haknyeon to look up at you then your mother and his smile grow.

“What’s so funny?” You felt your face heat up, Why did he have to look now?

“It’s nothing.” You try and hide your embarrassment with a smile and Haknyeon looks at you suspiciously before letting it go and telling you both to have a seat at the dinner table. Taking up the offer you sat and soon the table was set and everyone was seated. To your delight, the food looked, smelled, and tasted good. “My compliments to the chief,” you nod at your father approving of his cooking, and glance at Haknyeon in acknowledgment of his help.

“Careful, Honey. Don’t inflate your father’s ego too much now or he’ll start to think he’s better than me.” It’s true, it wasn’t as good as your mother’s cooking, but he had potential.

“Just you wait, I will be one day.” Your father shoots a stubborn glare at your mother, causing everyone to laugh. The meal warms you up from the inside and you stuff yourself with your first meal of the day. Thinking about that you realized two things: Haknyeon also didn’t eat before this and this is the first time you’ve had a meal with him, so you glance over at him, catching him mid-bite. If your eyes could they would have gone as big as when he opened his mouth to take a bite.

Haknyeon greedily shovels the food in his mouth and when he notices you staring, he stops mid spoon, mouth still agape. You bite on your top lip to stop yourself from laughing at the silly look he had. Sure, it was shocking to see him open his mouth like he was about to unhinge his jaw, but in its own, weird way, it’s cute and charming. Haknyeon just felt like he was embarrassing himself too much today. You mouth an apology and he pouts his lips a little, your small interaction going unnoticed by your parents as they were currently in their own world.

Lunch with your parents continues with light conversation and when everyone had their fill you started to help clean up, but your mother stops you.

“Thank you, but we got it. You and Haknyeon go take a rest for a bit we’ll be done soon.”

“You sure?” Both you and Haknyeon ask.

“Yeah, go, go.” For the second time today, you are shooed away in your own house. You went going to cross swords in helping since you felt your tiredness hit you again after eating. The two of you decided to take a seat on the couch, leaning back into the cushions and leaning your heads back. You felt this amazing comfort perfect for dozing off, you wonder if Haknyeon is feeling the same.

“It’s not just me, right? I feel so warm and sleepy now.”

“Hmm?” Way ahead of you already he was starting to doze off too and you smile.

“Sleepy?”

“Yeah…” You both can’t help but let sleep take over you despite the noise coming from the kitchen. When your parents finish cleaning up they call out to the two bodies on the couch, but neither answers. So your mother goes up to both of you and holds back a gasp. She waves your father over and the sight he is greeted to is you and Haknyeon leaning on each other.

As if unconsciously drawn to each other’s warmth, your head rests on his shoulder and his head was laying on the top of yours. Both pairs of legs lean towards each other.

“I was planning to stay here a little bit longer, but I think we should leave now.” Your mother whispers to your father. He nods and they get prepared to leave. Your mother left a note on the counter and your father decided to take a picture of the two of you, making sure to send it to Haknyeon. They leave both thinking the two of you will be just fine.

***

You stirred in your sleep state bringing yourself closer to the heat you felt beside you, but the movement brought pain to your neck and shoulders waking you up. Opening your eyes you lifted your head and felt a terrible stiffness, you realize your head was laying on Hakyneon’s shoulder. Not just that, but you were also in close proximity to each other, almost like you were cuddling. You look at Haknyeon checking if he was awake but all signs led to a no, eyes closed, as his head was leaned back on the couch in an uncomfortable-looking way, his lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. You admittedly feel a little weird being with him like that but it wasn’t bad, besides the pain you felt currently.

You carefully get off the couch so you don’t wake him up. You grab your phone from your pocket, checking the time, 6:48 pm. Surely your parents weren’t here still. You find the note left on the kitchen counter.

I remember you said you mentioning you were tired, so we decided we should just let you two sleep. Don’t feel bad about falling asleep on us, we had a lot of fun see you guys again. Take care.

Love Mom

You go back to Haknyeon on the couch, looking at the position of his head again. Figuring it would be better to wake him up now or else he would end up having a greater pain in his neck. Drawing closer to him you get a better look at his face, his skin was flawless, it looked even better than Chanhee’s skin. You get even closer for a better look and before you realize what you’re doing your fingers slide across his face cupping his cheek, skin just as soft as it looked. You lightly shake his face calling to him, “Haknyeon... Haknyeon, wake up.”

His eyes flutter open, a dazed look on his face, like at any moment he could go back to dreamland. His eyes focused on the visage in front of him, blurry yet he could still see the ever recognizable beauty that was you. His lips moved in an arc and he brought his hand up to your face cupping your cheek in the same way you did his. That is what brought you out of your trance and you were petrified in an instant. You felt your heart shoot up in your throat when you saw the loving gaze he directed at you while rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

This killing blow in it all is when he called you, “Hey, y/n,” with a deep husky voice that you were wholly unfamiliar with. You felt your face and neck heat up, with the intimacy of the situation. Does he realize what he is doing or is he still half asleep? You shot up from the couch not sure if you wanted to know the answer, stepping away quickly, trying to distance yourself from the state of affairs. Startled Haknyeon sits up snapping out of his daze.

“I- uh, sorry.” Haknyeon looked as confused as you were shocked.

“Did I just- I thought I was…. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He truly thought you were just in his dream, it was such a common occurrence that he didn’t think twice.

“No, I started it. it’s my fault.” He recalled the touch of your hand, that kind of contact made it feel almost as if nothing between the both of you changed. Neither of you knew what to say at the moment, so there was a bout of silence. You opened your mouth again after thinking of something to say, asking a question straight from left field, “Can you help me? I need to apologize to Chanhee.”

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[spideymarvelws]

one true love.

Dark!Peter Parker x Dark!GN!Reader

Main Masterlist

Summary : Peter will go threw everything to keep you safe, protected and most importantly always his. He saw you as the person he observed and watched for the past few months, the sweet, kind girl that stopped to pet stray dogs or smiled at everyone who needed it. But somethings he never took notice of, some things that would’ve made him love you even more.

Warnings : THIS IS A DARK FIC! I am not responsible for your media consumption but if any of these topics or just dark fics on a whole trigger you please do not read! cursing, murders, blood, violence, mention of sexual assault, death, stalking, graphic description of a dead body, homicide, fluffy if you squint, use of guns and knifes.

A/n : If any description throughout the one shot does not pertain to a gender neutral reader please let me know :-) also if i missed anything in the warnings.

Word Count : 1.8k

...

The definition of love is something that never stays constant as its experienced from person to person. Even to that very being, the meaning changes every year, month, day even hour, from what that individual may feel in that moment. In some cases, it may be the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to someone, changing there life in ways they could never even imagine. 

In other cases, it could break a person whole, bit by bit, tearing down at who they once were. Emotions like guilt and regret, jealously and remorse running through there veins, thinking that love is only made to destroy the ones foolish enough to believe it exists.

Then you have the rare case of love at first sight.

Now, some may argue that this concept that only seems to show up in movies and TV shows is complete bullshit, that it doesn’t exist.

“You can’t look at someone and automatically know they’re the one for you,” Ned said to him one day, pulling his head out of his chemistry book,“What if they’re an awful person? What if they do something constantly that you don’t like? Seriously, looking at someone and knowing there the one is just basing It of there’s looks or something,”

Peter didn’t respond, afraid that he might lash out at the only friend he’s managed to keep throughout the years. He thought about the last statement a lot, wondering if all he ever really felt was the physical attraction.

But no, that pull you feel when you look at someone for the fist time, watching there movements with whatever tasks they’re doing at the moment, even if it’s nothing at all. Falling entranced with there every gesture, taking in every curve and colour, memorising every feature.

It wasn’t just looking at their appearance, it was taking note of how they moved, how they acted, how they laughed, god there laugh is like music to your ears. It was watching and observing, that’s what Ned missed in his little speech.

Then of course you have the people who don’t believe in love, which was something he could understand.

Before he saw you.

For Peter, love was not a strong enough word to describe what he felt for his one true love. The way you made his heart stop with one smile, his face red with one touch, his hands sweat with one word. In your eyes, he found his entire world.

And he destined for you to be his.

The countess nights he spent dreaming of you, laying besides him. He longed to touch you, to feel your skin against his, to mark you with his love. He shocked himself with the self control he had to maintain around you especially when it came to the people you hung out with.

The amount of times he wanted to run out of hiding and crack the skull of some idiot who decided to talk to you or dare even look at you in any suggestive matter. The thought make him gag every time, but he’d like to think that you already knew that he was looking over you, that you belonged to him. That’s why you never took any of them on, that’s why you turned them down.

He couldn’t blame them for trying, but they had no chance since they would be gone the next day.

Which is why he hoped you could forgive him for what he did, for what he had to do.

The body laid in the back seat, wrapped tightly in a bag. There was no blood spilled, sadly, only the indents of his hands on the base of his neck. 

It was fun, watching the life drain from his eyes as he listed off every bad thing he’s ever done, mainly to you, but he threw in a few more ex’s just to spice things up a bit more. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed him, maybe he should’ve just let him walk free with the threats he shoved down his throat.

But then he had to call you a bitch, from that point he knew his life would just be a waste of oxygen.

Peter let out a chuckle at the memory, at the fake confidence he showed, struggling in his hold. It truly was a sight to behold, one that made his realise why he enjoyed being Spiderman so much. 

Seeing people suffer for there terrible mistakes and knowing that he had the power to punish them.

The drive was long and quiet, one of his hands was on top the steering wheel, tapping to an imaginary beat while the other settled on the arm rest. The streets were rather empty at this hour to Peter’s surprise, making him smirk that he would get away with the murder.

Maybe he could’ve stolen a better car.

But he was doing everyone a favour and he was keeping you safe.

He took a right into a dense forest, his car moving with with the bumps on the course road. When he felt like he was deep enough down the path, he hit the breaks, cringing at the squeaking noise it made.

Regardless, the exited the vehicle, opening the trunk to grab a shovel. He knew that there were a number of more efficient ways to get rid of the body, one that could’ve used his position in the avengers to his advantage, but his old techniques started to grow repetitive. 

It didn’t take him as long as he thought though, the hole he dug was around eight feet deep and hopefully the right size to fit the body. Dropping the shovel to the floor, he walked back to the car not to worried about his surroundings knowing that no one ever visited this part of the forest. 

He grabbed the body from the back seat, throwing it over his shoulder carrying it to the hole and tossing it inside without care. He smiled at the bag as he filled the hole a quarter of the way.

“Time to find an animal now shall we?” He whispered to himself, pulling out the hunters knife from the back of his pants along with a flash light, “Just incase,”

As he walked threw the trees and bushes, keeping look out for any movements he heard a gun shot cut threw the air. He gripped his knife, walking carefully towards the noise. 

Oh how he was sorry for the poor lad that decided to be here this night, but he had too do what had to be done.

Suddenly he was sent back by a force jumping on his back. He fell to the floor with a thud, his body forcefully turned over with a gun pointed directly between his eyes.

“Y/n?” He froze, his breath becoming heavier at how close your face was to his. Now he understood why his spider senses didn’t alert him, because you weren’t a threat to him, you could never be.

“Peter,” you whispered, lowering your gun, scrambling off of his body much to his dismay, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” He asked back, still shocked at you proximity to him, talking with him, breathing the same air as him.

“You answer first,” you said quickly.

“No you,” Peter said back, crossing his arms.

“I-,” you started, but looked down, trying to hide your bashfulness, but it only drew attention to the blood dripping from your hair.

“Baby,” Peter whispered, walking up to you to grab your face, any sense of self control left his body after seeing the state you were in, “What happened,”

Peter thought it was some attack on you and judging by the amount of blood covering your skin, you had to defend yourself. He expected you to look up with the innocent eyes he’s studied for so long, finally getting a chance to get a closer look.

But instead, you raised your head with a sinister smile gracing your feature, you stepped out of his embrace, taking his hand in yours.

“Let me show you,” you whispered, in an almost sultry voice sending shivers down his spine.

You pulled him to a tree, taking the flashlight held in his fingers and pointed the light to the base of the trunk. Peter stared confused at the sight, walking forward slightly to inspect the slumped body. It was tied down tightly with rope around the waist and mouth, cutting threw the skin deeply showing signs of struggle. There was multiple stab wounds in the stomach, words carved in there legs that he couldn’t make out with the dirt and blood covering them. He did however notice his name on her forehead and the bullet wound in the middle. 

The streaks of blond in the hair falling in front of the face told him that this body belonged to Gwen Stacy.

“When she started talking to you I could see how uncomfortable she made you,” you started, looking to the floor while playing with the dirt with the sole of your shoe, “I- I didn’t like how close she got to you, and- and since she bothered you too I- I thought we were doing us both a favour,”

Peter stood back up, looking back at you. He wondered how somebody so insane could hide it so well. Even with the evidence painted over you, he still saw you as incapable of ever doing anything like this.

The thought made him laugh loudly, walking up to you and grabbing your face.

“I fucking love you,” he laughed more, making you smile brightly as he put his forehead against yours, “You’re perfect I swear,”

You laughed along with him, putting away your gun in your pack pocket, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’ve- I’ve so long for this,” you giggled, pressing your nose into his neck, basking in his sick scent, “But, what are you doing here?”

Peter giggled as well, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “Same reason at you my love,”

Your eyes widened, you placed your hand on his cheek, bringing his lips back into yours. It was longer and sloppier than the first, both of you getting use to the movements but also desperate for the feeling.

Peter backed you up against another tree, pressing his body against yours, his deluded mind not reregistering how fucked up the situation was, but he loved every second. His lips moved down to your neck, sucking and bitting at the skin, drawing out delicious moans from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you sputtered, biting your lip and tangling your fingers in his hair, both of you not paying mind to the blood, sweat and dirt, “I’ve- I’ve wanted this for so long Peter,”

“Me too baby,” he said, tightening his hold on your waist, “Me too, now how about we hide these bodies together hmm?” He tickled your sides lightly, grinning at the giggle you let out, “Then I’m gonna take you home and make up for lost time,”

...

--->Interested in more? check out my other Dark!Peter fic<---

Hearts, reblogs and comments always appreciated 🥰

Taglist: @jadegill​ @joyleenl​ @ietss

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 16

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Deaging~

Yes I know I left a cliff hanger. Yes I know it was evil. That my friends is the point! if I cannot be an evil gremlin whats the point in writing at all.

Ao3

First < Previous

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Damian blinks awake, head groggy and with an ingrained sense to pretend he’s still unconscious. There are bird calls and the sound of the wind. He isn't at the league's base. Last he remembers he was.

Then he catches the sound of movement, not from an animal but a human. He stays still. They look around for a minute before shuffling closer to him. Foolish, they were obviously untrained and stupid. Even more so when they poke his cheek talking with soft-spoken words.

Damian grabs the wrist lightning-fast making them yelp. He surges up turning the grip into a pin and going for his sword, which isn’t there. In fact, he has no weapons. This realization makes him zero in on the person below him. It’s a girl, his age, and looking terrified. As she should be.

“Who are you?” He demands, no weapons so he presses the wrist at a painful angle.

“Ma-Marinette!” She squeaks, Damian doesn’t let up raising an eyebrow, “Dupain-cheng!”

Damian doesn’t know that name. So she can’t be a threat and she can’t be important. He lets up enough that her wrist won’t break and takes stock of his surroundings. They’re outside, a tropical area judging by the foliage. There are tire tracks, some footprints, and that's it, no other people around. 

It must be a test from his mother or grandfather, those aren’t unusual. The question is what could it be. Certainly, it can’t just be to kill this girl, Marinette. Even without weapons he could have snapped her neck long ago. Information doesn't seem to be it either she doesn't have any training in resisting pain. But perhaps she can provide a clue, maybe that's her purpose.

“Why are we here?”

“I don’t know!” Or perhaps not.

He’ll have to look around. He drags Marinette over to a tree using the vines to tie her up.

“If I am meant to kill you I can do that later, it’s harder to unkill someone,” She relaxes, “Harder, not impossible,”

She is no longer relaxed. Damian paces through the forest, the tire tracks are clear, no effort to hide them, and can easily be followed back. He takes stock of his clothing. Someone changed those. They are all ill fitting, and now that he notices so are Marinette’s. Damian looks over his person for any details missed, finding a small notebook.

None of its coded which is strange in itself since it’s his had writing. Notes, a to-do list, Marinette is mentioned several times, something about a pet store, calculations and what he’s looking for; a location. They’ll head to Alaska then, he likely had to bring Marinette considering she was mentioned. He’ll have to find out where they are and move from there.

“Where are we going?” She demands as Damian unties her from the tree, not completely unbound as they start walking.

“That's not your concern,” Damian snaps pulling her along by a length of vine.

“Well, I am concerned so-”

“What?” He hisses turning to glare at her, Marinette shrinks under it.

“Fine,” She follows along in a few blessed moments of silence,  “... what’s your name?”

“That’s not your concern either,” Damian rolls his eyes, this journey is going to be insufferable.

“Is anything my concern?” Marinette snarks, Damian squashes the smirk down putting up his serious facade.

“Walking faster so I don't gut you,”

That's an effective threat, at least for a while. Damina followed the trail of snapped branches and squashed foliage. If this was a test tracking certainly wasn't what was being tested. So what was? How quickly did he have to figure it out? And what would be the punishment if he didn’t?

“Do you know where we are?” Marinette tries again, she’s incessant that certain.

“I will soon,” The dirt was kicked up into what could almost be a road. They followed to find a proper dirt road and follow the worn path.

There's a few tracks, recent enough to be the past few days which means it wasn't just the people responsible for their situation that have come through here. It was a long walk. Not that it bothered Damian he had trained for much worse. The problem was Marinette. She wasn't tired, actually the opposite which was a problem for Damian. Pounding him with a hundred questions a minute.

“I’m from Paris,” Despite her hands being tied behind her Marinette still managed to lean in front of him, “Where are you from?”

“That's none of your business,” And so he kept trying to shut down every topic, but Marinette seemed more afraid of silence than whatever threat he could dish up.

When night started to fall they set up camp off to the side of the road. With luck, a truck would drive by at some point and he could commandeer the vehicle. Damian was willing to set up a fire but not try and hunt. Without weapons and Marinette in tow, it would be a pointless task regardless.

“Do you like pastries? I live above a bakery,” Which only begged the question of why this girl was important. The daughter of a baker? He was the demon heir and son of Batman, why on earth was he left here with her?

“I don’t care shut up,” Damian rolls over, Marinette securely fastened to a tree. 

He wouldn't sleep tonight but maybe the illusion would keep her quiet. It doesn't. And Damina is unwillingly lulled to sleep. He only realized this when he was startled awake by Marinette warning him that a truck was coming. Damian readies himself to fight as the truck slows as it approaches them. Marinette has other ideas.

“Excuse me, we could use a ride,” 

“Why are you tied up?” the driver asks looking between them concerned.

“A-a prank!” She is not a convincing liar, “Could we please ride with you?”

“Uh, sure, just untangle yourself and let's go,” Damian weighs the advantages of just killing the driver here, but ultimately deems it not worth the effort. Letting Marinette free can’t be that big a risk he greatly outmatches her in speed, strength, and skill.

Damian will admit her habitual questioning comes as an advantage as she makes small talk with the driver. Figuring out where they are. They get dropped off at the main city and from there they go to the port. It’ll be easier to stow away on a ship than a plane even if it will take longer.

“Stay quiet and follow me,” Damian warns Marinette, hiding behind crates at the dock.

Marinette nods following along closely her steps louder than his practiced soft ones. They sneak onto the boat headed for Alaska, its easy enough to stow away hiding among the shipment during the security checks.

“Wow you move like my Maman,” Marinette whispers, once the security has left.

“I highly doubt that,” Damian scoffs perched vigilant high on the crates.

“No really, she always moves silently and sneaks up on Papa accidentally,” Marinette giggles leaning back on the crates.

“Ah-ha,” Damian dismisses watching her out the corner of his eye.

“Yeah she tried to teach me but I’m too clumsy,” 

“Teach you?” Damian actually looks over, “That would imply she actually trained,”

“She did, I don’t know where but I think it was with aunt Talia,” Damian freezes.

“.... Talia?” He hesitates, looking fully at Marinette now, “What's your mother's name?”

“Hm? Sabine,”

… well… it's a really good thing I didn't kill her Sabine would have taken down the whole league

“... So it was an act?” Marinette looks over at him concerned, “Surely Sabines daughter wouldn't be bested so easily,”

“What are you talking about?”

She must know something but what?

“Hey, wanna play hide and seek?” Marinette breaks Damian out of his thoughts.

“For training?” Damian puzzles.

“No silly,” She laughs, Damian can't bring himself to feel offended as it doesn't feel like she's laughing at him, “For fun,”

Hesitantly he lets her drag him along, taking turns hiding among the crates. At first, it does feel like training, staying silent, staying still. Then when she catches him he realizes the difference. There's no pain, no punishment, nothing. Marinette just smiles.

--------

no taglist :P

[yuzukult]

effortlessly pt. 4 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (not in this chapter) words:  3.8k on the shorter side note: again, i may need to do some proofreading!!! enjoy :)

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

The sun shining through the blinds warms your skin as you groan while rubbing your eyes drowsily at the contact. Sliding off Jungkook’s body and cloaking your face into the pillow, you sigh heavenly. Although still exhausted, after confessing your feelings to the sleeping Jungkook the night before, you felt relieved. 

Jungkook? He thinks he hasn’t slept a wink. There may have been a moment or two where he dazed off to the point that he thought he fell asleep but in actuality, he could barely get himself to close his eyes long enough. 

Well, you did tell him you loved him last night. 

How else was he supposed to react? He spent the entire 8 hours with a billion thoughts running through his mind incessantly. Sure, he constantly showered you with affection, occasionally slipping in some pick up lines, and flirting ceaselessly but he never believed that you would ever reciprocate those same feelings... or even come close to the point of potentially realizing how you felt. A hopeful dream was what it was and the only way to prevent heartbreak was to prioritize his aspirations to become a swimmer. 

Regardless of that... he’d been in love with you for over a decade, so what does this mean now?

You confessed to his sleeping body, or well— “sleeping.” Does he tell you that he heard everything you said? Would that be too much? It felt like he was eavesdropping on a conversation he shouldn’t have listened in on, even if you were saying it directly to him. But you said those things unfiltered, assuming that he wouldn’t hear anything.

Chewing his bottom lip with his brows wrinkled, he pondered in silence as your body beside him is shifting constantly under the covers, switching in different positions. Edges of his mouth twitching into a soft smile at the sight of you, he runs his fingers through his messy locks, finally coming to a decision.

Jungkook is going to take this opportunity to tell you that he loves you. The proper way, of course, since technically he isn’t supposed to know about your confession. He’s going to make up for what happened with what should have happened.

“You’re awake?” You grumble, voice husky. He chuckles at the sound, pinching your cheek gently. “Yeah, been awake for a while. Getting up any time soon?”

Shaking your head, you drop your face back into the pillow, muffling your words. “I just wanna sleep all day. Did you have any plans for today?” 

He hums a moment in thought, glancing over at you. “I didn’t initially, but I think we should do something today. Did you have anything in mind that you want to do lately?”

Turning your head, you glare at your best friend. “You’re the one who wants to go somewhere.”

“True but I wanted to give you the option to pick.”

Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips in response. “Let’s get pizza and go to the beach.”

“Beach?”

“Yeah, you said you wanted to give me an option to pick. I heard it’s going to be nice and hot outside, and if you’re not letting me stay indoors in the amazing AC, you’re taking me to the beach to cool down.”

“Sassy,” He says, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. “But okay. We can do that. I’m down for it.”

“Just us two?”

“Just us two.” You liked the sound of that.

The sun barely pecks your skin in the morning but it’s noon now, and the sun hates you. Toes digging into the sand as Jungkook leads to find a spot to put the umbrella, you’re weeping from the heat under your feet and the sun scorching your skin.

“Jungkook, I’m fucking melting.”

“Yes miss, we are all melting in this heat. We are all bitches to the sun right now.”

You’re grumbling, dragging your legs with you as you fix the straps on the duffle bag that sits as a crossbody on your frame. “Jeon, hurry up and pick a spot before I become one with the sand!”

“Quit being such a drama queen.” He rolls his eyes playfully, finally deciding on a spot that wasn’t too far from the water but wasn’t close enough to be swept in by the tide. “This seems like a good spot.”

“It only took months.” He flicks your forehead. “I said quit it, drama queen.”

After sticking the umbrella into the sand and setting up the rest of the necessities for the day, you throw your body onto the mat, groaning loudly in relief that the tasks had been completed. “I enjoy this, other than the sun burning my skin before I even got the chance to put on sunscreen.”

“You’re still in your denim shorts and T-shirt,” Jungkook comments, now shirtless with just his swim trunks on. “That’s why you’re sweating like that. Hurry and get ready, I’ll put sunblock on you.” Abiding by his instruction, you strip yourself from the shirt that clings to your body in sweat and the thick shorts that absorbed most of the sun’s heat. Left in your bikini, you turn yourself around to lay on the mat.

His breath hitches again— it seems to be a common reaction from him lately to anything that has to do with you. He wishes he could press butterfly kisses against your soft and supple skin but he shakes away the urges before squirting some of the sunscreen in his hands and rub your back.

“Hold on.” You say and he pauses, hands stopping in midair. Your arm reaches around to your back, pulling the strands of your black bikini to unravel, exposing more of your back and he clears his throat when he loses control of his breathing patterns. “What are you doing? We’re in public.”

“Tan lines,” you respond casually, resting your cheek on a folded towel. “Go on.”

Jungkook felt like he was having an inner argument with himself. Everything you did was almost in a teasing manner, and especially with the newfound knowledge that you’re in love with him— he can’t help but find you even more attractive than before. Maybe he was delusional, but he was starting to feel like you were doing this on purpose.

“Thanks.” Retying your top, you turn yourself around to lay on your back, lathering the lotion onto the front portions of your body. “You want me to do yours?”

“No.” He quickly replies, face flushed pink. The thought of your hands touching his skin... he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. Realizing how suspicious he sounded, he corrects himself. “I mean, no... I’m okay.”

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tighten your grasp before pulling him onto the mat and forcing him to lay on his stomach, squirting a decent amount of the product onto your hands. He’s groaning at the sudden impact, face pressed against the toughness of the mat, rubbing his face with his hand. “What was that for?”

“You’re just being so weird today.” Applying the sunscreen onto his back, you move in motions as his body tenses under your touch. “Can you just relax? You’re starting to be even more weird. Weirder than usual.”

“Weirder than usual?” He reiterates, words a bit muffled from his cheek being crushed. “I’m not being weird.”

“Yes, you are.” You retort sternly, slapping his lower back to insinuate your completion of the task. “All morning. You said you slept, but I can tell you didn’t because well... look at your eyebags! Jeon, what’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t worry about it! Let’s enjoy the day.” He says, finishing up the rest of his body before giving you a wave and jumping into the water.

Jungkook is and always will be insufferable.

Your favorite part of any beach trip is when the sun begins to set, the breeze from the ocean kicking in, and the fragrance of the salty sea is inhaled into your lungs, bringing you a sense of peace and tranquility. The best view along with this is Jungkook, who sits in the sand, feet and lower half of his body submerged in the water, enjoying the weather. The top of the evening was that both your stomachs are full with pizza for dinner.

Standing up from the little area that the two of you had made for yourselves, you invite yourself into a spot beside your best friend, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is nice. The weather, the water, just us. We haven’t had this in a while.”

Turning his head to glance at you, a soft smile appears on his lips. “We’re always together.”

“Not alone, not like this.” You sigh, fingers drawing shapes along the sand. “We’re usually with someone. Your team, Yura... anyone, really. I miss when it’s just the two of us. It feels like you’re afraid to actually be alone with me or something.”

“We have sleepovers though, what about that?”

“Do we ever really talk during movies? Then we sleep right after.”

Lately, it had occurred to you that despite all this “time” that you had been spending with Jungkook wasn’t really any time. Lunch had been inhabited by engaging with girls who crushed on Jungkook, and the remaining times were dedicated to socializing with Yura and his teammates. Movie nights were great, but silence would burden the room, and afterwards, he’d be too tired from a swim meet that he would fall asleep instantaneously. There was no more ‘you and Jungkook’ time. It felt like only just you.

“I guess... I really never thought of it like that.” He admits, fingers threading through his dampen locks. He senses the tenderness in your voice at the topic, a tightening feeling in his chest knowing that he’s the one making you feel this way. “I never paid attention to any of that. Did you feel that way for a while?”

“It’s alright though, just something I have to get used to.” Tearing your head off his shoulder, you lay your body completely onto the sand. “Sometimes I forget that we’re not together. It’s hard because there’s...” Sucking in a deep breath of courage, you continue. “... there’s a fine line between friendship and relationship. That’s why I didn’t want to... you know, have sex again. It felt as though you only wanted to do this because of sex.”

“What?” He interjects immediately, head snapping in your direction. “That’s crazy. I wanted to do it again because I was afraid I ruined it for you.”

“I thought I told you it was good enough!”

“But ‘good enough’ isn’t good enough for me. I love you, and I want to make you feel good, I want to make you feel what you’re worth, and that it wasn’t just some deployment to get rid of our virginities. I meant what I said, I really wanted to give mine to you.”

“Jungkook, you know I love you too. But don’t you want to do it with someone else?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t think you know what it means when I say that I love you.”

Furrowing your brows questioningly, you prop your head onto your arm. “What are you talking about.”

Sighing frustratedly at himself, he positions his body down completely beside yours, head resting on top of his forearm. “I’m in love with you. I thought that you’d never feel the same way about me. I know you thought I was sleeping last night, but I heard what you said.”

Your body is stunned rigid. Jungkook doesn’t stop. “You were my best friend since grade school, and I enjoyed every minute I got to spend with you. Truthfully, I think the time I started to fall for you was when we hit early high school and I realized that guys were chasing you. I never noticed it before, but seeing it then sparked a fire in me. I hated every one of them, even if they were a friend. Then again, who was I to tell these people that they couldn’t have you? I didn’t even have the guts to tell you how much I love you.”

Mouth agape, you inhale deeply. “I... you heard me last night?”

“Of course. I just... didn’t know how to react because what if I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable? You’ve vomited, farted, and took a shit in the bathroom as I was showering, and now you’re worried if I’m uncomfortable?” Sitting up with sand sticking to your skin, you ignore the discomfort and lock your gaze with his. “Jungkook, I really meant what I said last night. I... didn’t think you’d ever like me back because you seemed like you weren’t interested in any relationship, honestly.”

“And I meant what I said when I told you that you’re the only girl in my life.”

Lips pursed in the reticence, you dig your toes into the ground, hesitant about speaking. “What does this make us now?” 

Hair pushed back from swimming earlier and cheeks flushed pink from either being sunburned or from finally confessing his feelings for you, he watches your actions. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Everything is marginally outlandish on Monday morning after spending almost every waking moment with Jungkook over the weekend since the confession. There had been heated kisses, multiple cuddling sessions, and deep conversations that lasted through the hours of the night until one of you fell into a deep slumber.

But Monday morning? This means that the time together will include other people. Maybe less PDA, sure, but the thought of people finally knowing that the two of you were an item was... exhilarating, and if you were being forthright, you wanted to show off to the entire school population who Jungkook belonged to.

He’s standing outside of your house, waiting patiently with his car grunting after the start, leaning against the hood with a bright grin spread across his face. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You look beautiful today.” You think he looks cute smiling cheekily like this. He actually looks like an idiot in other people’s eyes because of how dorky he is.

“I look like this everyday.”

“I know. That just means you’re beautiful everyday.”

Clicking your tongue at the cheesy comment, you make your way down the steps of your front porch as he opens the passenger door for you. “Well, this is new. You’ve never done this before?”

“I’ve also never had a real serious girlfriend before, and here we are.”

“If I knew what I was signing up for, I don’t think I would’ve agreed to this.” He’s in the driver’s seat at this moment, eyes still darting hearts in your direction as he gives your nose a gentle peck. “I’m just happy you’re mine now.”

“So... I take it as you told him you love him?” Yura’s doing the thing where she’s stuffing food in her mouth as she talks, but this time it’s some type of Japanese bread she raves about. “Yura... you’re getting bread all over my desk.”

She rolls her eyes in response, showing you her hand before swiping the crumbs off the surface. “Done-zo. So what now? You guys are dating? Are you going to be one of those girls who will wear their boyfriend’s varsity jacket all around the school? Possibly flaunting that you were able to claim the untouchable Jeon Jungkook?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“No, you’re not being dramatic enough. What? How long has he been head over heels for you and you had no clue? Not even an ounce?”

“A decade?”

“A fucking decade, my dude. Don’t you just want to show off your new relationship because you’ve waited so long for this moment?”

Pulling off a piece of Yura’s bread, you shove some in her mouth. “Stop talking please, this is so embarrassing.”

“What’s so embarrassing about it?” She accidentally spits a bit of the bread in your face as you scrunch your nose in disgust, wiping off your cheek. “Yura!”

“Sorry. Anyway, what’s so embarrassing about it? You’re acting like he’s some guy who has done bad things and you were desperate enough to settle for a loser. This is your best friend, a potential professional swimmer, who is now your boyfriend. What’s up?”

“I’m kind of scared that all these girls are going to hate me now.” Yura scoffs at your response, shoving the remaining portion of bread in your direction. “You need some sweetness in your morning if you’re going to have such negative thoughts this early in the day.”

“And what about you? Didn’t you also say you had some crush on a guy?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, grabbing another piece of the carb. “He’s my brother’s best friend, not even an arms reach. Let’s switch the topic back to you, though.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore!” You grunted. “Well, too bad because Mr. Stole-Your-Heart is walking here now.”

Shooting your head around, you’re met with a beaming Jungkook with his swimming duffle slung over his shoulder as Hoseok trails behind. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“We keep greeting like this.”

“So we have.”

“Am I missing something here?” Hoseok impedes into the conversation, perplexity written all over his face. “Why are you guys talking like you haven’t been friends for years now?”

“Well,” Yura begins, eying the male. “They haven’t been dating for years so it’s still fresh. Hence the awkwardness.”

“Wait— you’re dating each other?” Appalled, he stumbles onto a desk behind him, hand over his chest. “You actually told her you loved her? This is crazy. Does this mean that you’re also the girl he keeps talking about that he lost his virginity to?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, glowing coral. “Potentially.”

Adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulders, he straightens himself before twirling his body around to exit the classroom. “Sorry bro, I gotta let the team know. I can’t believe you actually went through with it!”

“Hoseok—” Jungkook rubs his face tiredly when his friend leave before giving you an apologetic look. “I’m going to chase after him. I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll see you after class,” You confirm, and surprisingly enough, he leans in to give you a quick goodbye kiss before waving at Yura.

Yura’s eyes bulged to the point it looked like it would fall out of its sockets. “He— he actually did that? How much did I actually miss? Did you guys do it again?”

“How many questions are you going to ask?”

“All of them. Any single one that pops into my head. How could I not ask you any of these questions? What’s the point of being your friend if I can’t!” Yura jokes and you retaliate by throwing a pen at her.

“Look at who has arrived! The woman who has tamed our special Kook’s heart!” Namjoon exclaims brightly at the sight of you entering the pool’s arena, backpack over your shoulder as you make your way to your designated spot in the bleachers. “Jesus, stop embarrassing her.” Jungkook counters, pushing the guys away from your seat.

“Aw, come on. We never got to interrogate her as your girlfriend!”

“Isn’t interrogating her as my friend enough?”

“No,” Jin chimes in. “We didn’t get to ask her the girlfriend questions yet.”

Jungkook scowls at his teammates who bluster him at five against one. “What are you going to ask? I’ll answer for her.” 

“Is she the one you lost your virginity to?”

“When did this happen?”

“Is Jungkook even good in bed? He just looks good but what about his delivery—“

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” Jungkook interrupts, dropping his bag onto the ground. “My delivery? You’re questioning my performance?”

“Performance?” Standing beside you at the bleachers, the entire swim team turns their heads in unison at the voice, faces gleaming at the owner of the voice.

“Taehyung!”

“What’s wrong with Jungkook’s performance?” He raises a brow quizzically, adjusting his own bag that hands across his chest. “He’s a great swimmer.”

Hoseok has his arm around the other male, leading him toward the locker room. “Our little Kook has a girlfriend now, and we’re trying to interrogate his girlfriend about his performance.”

“Jungkook has a girlfriend?” When Jimin responds with your name, Taehyung’s gaze meets your figure as you’re leaning comfortably in the spaces between the bleachers, legs pressed against your chest with AirPods occupying your ears and a book in your hand. 

He never said, but Taehyung always had a slight crush on you. The rest of the swim team, including you, had all been around the same age, but he’d be ahead of the crowd in regards to education, therefore graduated earlier than the rest. Earning a swimming scholarship to study abroad restricted himself from ever letting you know his true feelings, but coming back around meant he could take the opportunity to at least let you know how he felt.

But he was too late. Or so you’d think.

“I got this for you, from the States, that is.” 

“A mug?” Lifting up the Starbucks cup in your hand that he wrapped in a bow so carefully, you’re afraid that you’d accidentally unravel it. Grinning from cheek to cheek, your eyes meet with his. “New York?”

“I visited New York for a little bit before coming back here. Thought of you when I saw that. Figured you would like it.”

Gingerly placing the gift back into its bag, you pull out another item that Taehyun has packed for you. “What— what’s this?” He has a mischievous smile washing over his face, tugging at the bow tie around the plush in your hands.

“A sloth.”

“A sloth?”

Taehyung nods in return, hands slipping into the front pockets of his jeans. “You remind me of a sloth. Always so tired, moves slow sometimes—”

“Tae, are you insulting me?” Laughing at your reaction, he immediately shakes his head in discrepancy. “No, it’s a good thing really. You’re cute, and sloths are cute. Grounded, even though they’re in the trees, relaxing to be around, and you can’t help but to like them.”

Nodding in response, you hold the stuffed animal in your arms, content with his answer. “I’ll take that. I really like this, Taehyung. You didn’t have to bring this back for me.”

“Of course I had to bring you something back.” He bends forward, playfully pinching your nose. “You were always coming to our games to support us. Anyways, there’s a letter in the envelope when you get the chance to look more thoroughly.”

“Yep. Well, if you’d excuse me, they’re going to nag at me for leaving the locker room so suddenly instead of getting dressed to practice with them. I’ll catch you later?” You bow your head in agreement as you watch him run in the route of the locker room before searching through the bag before your fingers meet with a thick piece of paper.

Your name is written on the front of the pink envelope. Something makes your stomach churn at the appearance of the item. Inhaling deeply, you tear off the flap, a little too aggressively that the note falls out and onto the floor.

“What’s this?” Jungkook asks, picking up the mysterious paper, handing it to you. “Who gave you that?”

“Uh... Taehyung.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 3 (Peter Parker x F!Oc)

Words: 1,756

Masterlist

Chapter 2  / Chapter 4

Tony Stark's trip to showcase the new Jericho missile is a success with the military, but when soldiers take him back, they’re intercepted and the billionaire is kidnapped.

Both Lily and Pepper find out by watching television. The call from Colonel James Rhodes confirms their fears. Although the information isn’t much, the important thing is that they’re doing everything to find him.

Pepper Potts concentrates on everything she has to do for the company without her boss. Working for Tony for so many years has formed a special connection, even if it is not the conventional one. Sometimes thoughts of possible horrible scenarios come to her mind, but she pushes them away.

Something she can be thankful for is the company of little Lily, who also can't help but worry about the man. He may not have been kind, but no one deserves to be tortured.

The tension remains for three long months, the wait for news from Tony along with the paternity results in the envelope which has not been opened. Nobody knows what to do in a situation like this.

Rhodes keeps searching for his best friend with the help of the army. Pepper and Happy take care of the little girl. The relationship between Tony and Lily's small circle has been strengthened in all this time, even Rhodey receives some calls from her asking if he’s okay and if he has found Tony. Regardless of the test results, they would protect Lily.

At the end of the three months, the new news give everyone a great respite. Tony Stark is alive and returns home.

Although Lily wants to meet Tony along with Pepper and Happy, they won't let her. Surely there would be a lot of reporters and they’d ask a lot of questions if they see the girl.

For those cases, Pepper had already arranged a babysitter. A difficult task, but she managed to find a twenty year old girl, she has no idea who the girl is, nor who hired her. The contact was a Stark Industries worker. With that problem solved, they both wait in Pepper's apartment.

Jessica the babysitter isn't so bad, Lily thinks. The only bad thing is that she spends a lot of time on her phone.

Lily searches all the channels for any news about Tony and finds one where they’re broadcasting a press conference with him eating a hamburger.

"That man must be crazy," Jessica says from the couch.

"Why?"

“He just said that he will no longer make weapons. His company produces the most. He’ll run out of money,” She explains.

Lily frowns.

Why would Tony stop producing what makes so much money?

***

"Did you think I wasn't going to find out about the girl, Tony?"

“Obie…”

Obadiah Stane raises his hand to interrupt him.

"It hurts me that you don't trust me.”

Tony sighs.

"I didn't have much time to explain everything to you and after my obligatory vacation, I couldn't do it.”

"Is she yours or not?"

“I don't know, I haven't seen the results. But, I don't think you called me for this,” Tony tries to deflect that topic as soon as possible. He can't handle this now.

They walk through Stark Industries until they reach the room where the Arc Reactor is. They argue about the actions of the company and how it affects Tony's decision. He tries to show Stane another form of energy, but in the end he fails to do much.

Happy waits for him in the limousine to take him back to the house. Tony gets in the car.

"Sir, Lily asked me to give you this," says Happy, handing him a folded paper. "She's already at your house," He informs and starts the car.

Tony unfolds the paper, finding a drawing made with colored crayons. A big house, the sea behind and three people standing in front. The names Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper are written under each person in crooked letters. The man can't help but smile, but what he’s really surprised about is seeing the fourth person in the air with outstretched arms. It's him with a big smile and the words 'I'm alive' next to him. He doesn’t know whether to feel fear at those words or simply laugh at the idea.

The truth is that during his experience in Afghanistan, he did think about her. How his life would be if the test was positive. If he’d manage to get out of that situation and return to have a family. Images from his childhood, everything he lived with his parents came to his mind.

Howard Stark was not the best father in the world. Tony doesn't remember loving or encouraging words from him, no matter how hard he tries. He discussed this with his assistant and his friend Yinsen, who was very helpful in giving real advice, but even so, he still doesn't believe that he’s capable of raising a girl. He doesn't have a clue how to do it.

“Sir," Happy interrupts his thoughts. “We’re home.”

***

"You're good?”

“Yes."

"You don't look good.”

"Well, I am," Tony answers, arranging some things in his workshop.

"Did you like my drawing?"

"It could be better.”

Lily frowns. It’s not the answer she expected. Maybe that means he wants more drawings, to see how much I can improve, she thinks.

“Okay.”

Tony takes off his shirt and leans back on a table. He connects several cables to his body. Lily looks at him curiously and notices the circle in the center of his chest.

"What is that?”

"You wouldn’t understand.”

"Doesn't it hurt?"

“No."

"How does it work?"

“You wouldn’t understand-"

“Try me,” She cuts him off. She’s sick of that answer. Tony sighs.

"This little wheel of light,” He touches it. “It's what keeps me alive, it works so that the shrapnel doesn’t reach my heart.”

"What is shrapnel?"

"Fragments of a missile that tried to kill me.”

She nods.

"And what are you going to do now?"

“Update it. Jarvis, call Miss Potts.”

"Can I ask another question?"

"You already did.”

"I'll ask another question," She informs. Tony brings his lips together to avoid a smile.

“Okay."

“Your dad was also an inventor. Did he answer all your questions?"

Tony frowns. He could never ask so many questions to his father. Howard kept him as far away as possible, but he had other teachers or he did research himself.

Pepper's arrival interrupts them. Her steps are nervous, she thought that finally her boss would want to know the result of the paternity test, but seeing that he needs her for something else, she leaves the envelope on a table.

The man explains what she has to do to replace the reactor in his heart with a better one. Lily looks amused as Pepper panics and Tony tries to relax her, but it only upsets her further.

"It's like the game ‘operating'."

"What is that?" asks Pepper scared.

"I know what it is, can I try it?"

"No!" The two adults answer. She makes a face.

When the machines sound faster on alert, Lily freaks out and looks around for something she can help out with, but she doesn't know what all of Tony's toys work for. But Pepper manages to solve it in time and everything ends.

“You're better?" She asks approaching again.

“Yes, Kid. Back off,” He answers, pulling her away a bit.

Pepper wipes her hands. Tony explains what she has to do with the old reactor, she nods, but after she clears her throat.

"We have a pending issue,” Tony turns to see them. Pepper points to the girl.

“Right," He sighs. "Just tell me if she's mine or not.”

"Don't you want to see the papers?"

Tony sits on a bench and looks at Lily.

“No."

Pepper opens the envelope carefully. Reads every detail and sighs in relief. She smiles and looks up at her boss.

“Lily's your daughter, sir.”

Tony doesn't take his eyes off the girl.

“Fine."

Pepper notices the tension between them.

"Just fine?"

"Yes, that's it,” Now he stares at the redhead. "Thank you, Miss Potts.”

The redhead nods unsure and leaves the workshop.

Tony makes a face and returns to the girl.

"You got scared?" He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“What did you think?"

"I don't want to lose my dad so soon,” She cocks her head. "I just found him.”

"I should take you to an orphanage.”

“You'll do it?"

“You’d be better with someone else.”

"But I don't want to be an orphan.”

“Nobody wants to be. I am.”

"Is that why you're always sad?"

He opens his mouth thinking of an attack, but he decides to avoid it.

“This is a bad idea. Being my daughter, I don't recommend it.”

“Well, not that I have a choice. My mom is no longer at home and…” She sighs. "I don't think she wants me back.”

Tony puts his hands to his face and groans.

“Fine," He gets up and looks around. "I have other things to do. Pepper will handle the paperwork."

“Can I help?"

Tony walks to a desk and touches the surface. Holograms of plans and folders are projected in front of him. Lily approaches the desk, Tony looks at her from the corner of his eye, maybe he can admit that it is nice to have someone who’s easily impressed.

He and Jarvis talk about a secret project, outside of any Stark Industries business.

"I don't want this to fall into the wrong hands.”

"What about mine?" Lily asks. She raises both hands showing him her palms.

He sighs.

“They're still wrong, but,” He cocks his head. “I guess you're a Stark now. That's enough,” He crouches down to her level. "You can’t tell anyone about this.”

"Not even Happy?"

“I'll take care of Pepper, Happy and Rhodes. This shouldn't get out of here unless I say so. Okay?" He offers his hand.

“Deal," They shake hands. “Can I help?"

"Only if you follow my rules.”

"Which are?"

“Don't get in the way. Do exactly what I tell you and don't ask so many questions.”

She frowns at the last rule.

"I can't help it, how can I help you if I don't know what to do?"

He rolls his eyes.

"Fine, we’ll have a limit of questions.”

“Fine," She answers in a deep voice, imitating his. She smiles looking at him, but she stops when he doesn't.

"This will be more complicated than I thought.”

Taglist

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[hellflame-for-a-reason]

Private tutoring

Lesson one: The safety check

"I'm sorry if I've done anything wrong ma'am, I hope everything's alright." Tenya Iida carefully approached the desk.

The r-rated pro hero Midnight was sitting in the chair behind the desk, looking at him. "You're not in trouble sweetie, just sit down, rest those pretty little legs of yours."

Tenya was used to people commenting on his legs so he didn't pay any mind to it, taking a seat behind one of the student desks. "What did you want to speak with me about then Ms Kayama?"

"Ugh," she shuddered, "don't be so formal Tenya! You've known me since you were little, what happened to calling me 'miss nemu'?"

"You're a teacher, I'm merely showing my respect."

"Ok well this conversation isn't part of my job so you don't have to respect me; it's either Midnight or Miss Nemu out of school hours, alright Tenya?"

"Yes ma'am," Tenya sighed, bowing his head in respect, "so what is the topic of this conver then? If not school?"

Midnight smirked at that, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk. Tenya suddenly felt an urge to lecture her but bit it back, knowing that she might not want to be treated like a teacher, he should still show her some respect. "That boy in your class; the green haired one, you like him don't you?"

Oh no, Tenya could feel his face heating up, and clearly it had turned a certain colour too if Midnight's reaction had anything to do with it. She laughed and whooped, "I knew it! Ha! You act the exact same way Tensei does when he's got a crush."

"I…" he stood, the light glinting off his glasses and hiding his eyes, "I have to object! This line of questioning is extremely inappropriate, I must ask you to stop."

"Calm down Tenya, sit down." She sighed, waving a hand dismissively, "I'm not going to say anything about your personal choices, and I won't say anything judgemental about your taste in men out loud. I just want to give you some advice in approaching him, alright?"

A sigh, "alright Midnight, what should I do?' Tenya didn't think he could argue with her much more than he already had, so he just sat down and shut up. Maybe her advice would be helpful, although considering her status, he doubted it.

"Well the first thing you need to figure out is how much do you like him? Are you thinking long term or just a fling?"

Tenya hadn't actually considered that, he knew that he had a rather large crush but he had never really allowed himself to fantasize too much. "I'm not sure ma'am, I never really thought about it."

Midnight sighed at that for a second time, "well I can work with that I suppose, it might be a little more difficult but not to worry, you're speaking to an expert." She picked up some chalk and began to write on the board, "phase one," she spoke as she wrote it down, "finding out if he likes guys and making him think about you more often."

Oh, so they were treating this like an extra subject? Ok then, Tenya could handle this. He took out a notebook, always good for studying, and found an empty page, copying down what Midnight had written. She continued to speak and he took notes in bullet points, "taking notes? Okay great. Now I don't know much about how to tell if someone's gay but personally I think your best course of action is to start the conversation in a group, I don't mean you have to come out. Like… maybe ask a group of people in the common area if they think anyone in the class is gay?"

"But Midnight?" Tenya had spotted an issue with that plan almost instantly, "what if he's in the closet? He might not want to say anything."

"Hm, you have a point there, I suppose you could go the celebrity crush route; get him alone or around people he trusts in a casual conversation and bring up the idea of celebrity crushes, asking him about his. It's probably best to say something yourself at that point, to at least make him aware of your persuasion."

Tenya nodded, that sounded like a really good idea. Obviously he was a little nervous about trying it out but Midnight was an expert so he definitely wasn't going to challenge her authority. He quickly made his notes, wondering if it would seem out of character for him to ask about that kind of thing. "How would I make him think about me then?"

"Show him that you think about him. Send him pictures of animals or flowers or clouds that remind you of him, if you see something in a shop that makes you think of him, buy it for him. Just anything you can do to ensure that his first instinct when he thinks of you is fondness."

He very quickly noted that down, very grateful for her advice, "that makes sense, thank you ma'am. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"I don't think so, no, you may go back to your dorms now. Good luck Tenya." Midnight smiled at him and opened the door for him to leave, she watched as he gathered his things to leave and hummed in thought, "how is your brother by the way? I haven't spoken to Tensei since before his...ah, *early retirement.*"

Tenya froze at that last part, sighing and adjusting his glasses, "Tensei is well, his recovery went well. Thank you for your concern."

"Does he still have the same number?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Great!" She clapped her hands together, "you have fun, good luck. I'm going to go try out some of my own advice." Midnight chuckled as she pushed him out the door, one hand already reaching for the phone on her desk.

"Thank you ma'am," he sighed, leaning against the door after she'd shut it, he sighed. Great, Midnight was off to hit on his brother whilst Tenya was tasked with doing the same to Midoriya, and heaven knows she's got a lot more experience and skills than him. He's definitely going to need all the luck he can get.

After school finished, Tenya slowly made his way back to the dorms. He sat himself down on the sofa after grabbing a glass of orange juice, allowing himself to relax. Midoriya sat next to him, with Todoroki on the other side of him, "how are you doing Iida? You've been a bit on edge since lunch."

"Ah? Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine… don't worry about it, Midoriya, I'm fine." He sighs, offering a gentle smile, "just thinking about my studies, didn't realise I was behaving strangely." In truth, Tenya was simply nervous about this first step, he didn't know if this would work, but he was definitely risking his own safety to do this. He just hoped it would work, and that if it did work, that it worked in his favour. Sadly he just sat there in silence for an hour, going over the pros and cons of bringing this up. One on hand people would automatically assume he was a homosexual, and correctly so, but that could be dangerous, but on the other hand it might not be. Even if Midoriya was of that persuasion, there was no guarantee he'd say anything, or that he'd like Tenya.

The fear was almost enough to prevent him from saying anything, but he didn't want to disappoint Midnight, so he had to. He glanced over the scene before him; Bakugo and Midoriya were bickering over some stupid thing, probably about All Might, Uraraka and Todoroki were playing noughts and crosses whilst Ashido did Tsu's nails on the floor, Kaminari's nails were currently drying and Kaminari was next in line. It was a lovely scene, not often did their friend groups merge like this and Tenya was almost scared to disturb it. He cleared his throat regardless and didn't meet any of their eyes, "I can't help but to wonder," he paused for a moment, realising that what he was about to say would come out of left field for them, so maybe he should have tried to soften the blow, "do you think anyone in our class is of a different persuasion?"

"Eh?"

"He means gay Bakubro," Kirishima spoke up, leaning back against the beanbag, "I mean, I think I am, yeah I'm probably gay." He shrugged, clearly not believing this to be that big of a deal.

"Why the hell didn't you just say gay then? Stupid fuckin' shitty glasses," Bakugo huffs, crossing his arms and glaring up at Tenya, "well I'm not telling you anything, it's none of your business."

Mina huffed at that, "oh don't be such a dick," she proceeded to smile up at Tenya sweetly, "I'm bi!"

"Same!" Came a chorus from Uraraka, Kaminari and, most importantly: Midoriya. Tenya knew was bi meant, it meant bisexual, a persuasion in which one is attracted to more then one gender. This was a good thing, it meant that he did have a chance with Midoriya, but it didn't necessarily mean he was his type, so obviously more research would be needed.

"I'm a lesbian! Ribbit." Tsu spoke up, smiling and licking her lips before continuing to watch Mina paint her nails a lovely shade of green, with a different pattern on her thumbs.

Todoroki peered over, staring at Tenya with the kind of inquisitive look that almost scared him, "and I'm a homosexual, what about you, Iida? What's your persuasion?"

"For fucks sake! Just say sexuality! God damn, do all rich people talk like this?!" Bakugo didn't seem to enjoy this discussion, and Tenya couldn't blame him; although he was the one who had brought it up, he was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. It seemed Midnight had been wrong, this plan would push him into telling his friends his sexuality, but he couldn't feel hurt by that, as that was what he had asked them.

"Mine?" He queried, pushing back having to answer for another second, unsure how to word it, "oh, yes of course… my persuasion…" oh he really didn't want to answer this question, so he continued to stall.

"Yeah, if you asked us that question you gotta answer it too," Kirishima spoke up, still very casual, Mina on the other hand, looked more empathic, smiling softly.

"Iida… do you-"

"I," he interrupted her, not on purpose but he just wasn't registering that she had spoken, "I personally happen to be an, uh… homosexual?" One hand went to the side of his neck whilst the other adjusted his glasses, still not meeting any of their eyes. He wasn't sure how speaking this truth made him feel, he was more then scared of their reactions, despite knowing they were the same.

"Ooohh!" Uraraka piped up, "is that why you started this conversation? Because you wanted to tell us?" She looked so pleased, even proud of him and Tenya felt a little guilty about his less then pure motives for doing such. Although the more he actually thought about it, the more it shook him to his core that he did indeed just officially come out to his classmates.

Oh god.

"I… I suppose so…" he looked at her, head lowered slightly, "I hope you aren't too mad?"

"Why would we be mad, Iida? It's perfectly fine, I think it was quite clever of you to test the waters first." She reached over both Todoroki and Midoriya to pat him gently on the shoulder, he smiled at her in response, glad that everything was fine.

Midoriya beamed at him, "I hope you're proud of yourself, Iida, cause that must have been hard to say."

"It, it was," he nodded, smiling in return. Tenya felt the butterflies that everyone spoke about and he felt fuzzy all over, Midoriya had such an adorable smile and it was almost fatal. This boy would be the death of him.

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 9 (Kiro) Final Part [Delayed Answer] & [Fissure] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

Here’s the rest of Kiro’s story from Season 2 chapter 9

For the previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 9: Part 1

Enjoy~

[Delayed Answer]

The day of the new song conference finally came to a successful conclusion.

Thinking that I could finally go home and rest at ease, I suddenly received a message from Savin, asking me to bring Kiro to the company right away.

After listening to my retelling, Kiro’s smile immediately froze on his face as if he got caught sneaking out for barbecue.

Kiro: Savin will definitely give me three hours of ideological education.

Kiro: ….Or I’ll just slip away and say that my stomach hurts.

MC: It doesn’t matter, I will help you intercede.

Kiro sighed. After thinking long and hard, he quickly aligned with me and prepared to proactively explain his mistakes.

Pushing open the door of the company, gold foil ribbons suddenly fell from the ceiling and cheers came one after another to my ears.

Kiro and I were stunned in place, surrounded by everyone.

Kiki: Congratulations to our company’s successfully held new song release conference by the ace artist, Kiro!

Willow: We did it!!!

The company is full of lights and festoons and the banners of “Today’s New Year” is displayed everywhere.

Kiro was pushed to the center of the crowd, surrounded by balloons, ribbons, and flowers. Soon, a huge cake was pushed in front of him.

Behind him was a long row of tables filled with tempting cupcakes and carbonated drinks.

A few golden letter balloons were fixed on the wall, piecing together the words “KILO”.

It turns out that everyone thought that Kiro rarely showed up these days because of the sullenness of the last storm so they prepared this surprise to cheer him up.

Kiro: Scared me to death…I thought I came to receive ideological education.

Savin: Don’t worry, there will be time for that later. ***Changed some wording***

With everyone’s urging, Kiro blew out the candles on the cake.

Kiro: Thanks, everyone!

His smile in the candlelight was captured by the camera. At this moment, the whole world is full of hope and life like never before.

After the celebration banquet, Kiro and I went to the company’s terrace for some fresh air.

As the sun sets, the evening breeze gently takes away the remaining warmth.

MC: Can you tell me now…?

MC: How did the “last-minute superhero” Kiro stop the train?

Kiro: It’s actually very simple. I briefly hacked into the car’s control system and activated the emergency braking function.

Kiro: As long as the startup program is disrupted, the train will be able to stop.

MC: What! I didn’t think of that before!

Kiro: The most important thing is that the boy changed his mind. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have worked even if I typed many lines of code.

MC: You’re right, but fortunately, he was not brainwashed by the people of GRAY RHINO.

Kiro: Because his heart has never changed.

Kiro: He lost his way and fell into a quagmire. All he needed was someone to pull him out.

Kiro: Therefore, we have also agreed that no one will say a word about what happened today.

The wind lifted his hair on his forehead and the eyes that looked at me were shining.

I nodded solemnly.

MC: No matter what, I will support your decision.

MC: What’s more, during that plane accident, he  changed his mind in the end and saved the person on that flight.

The real culprit is GRAY RHINO. They took advantage of this boy’s pain and weakness to achieve their goals.

If today’s crisis wasn’t resolved, perhaps the contradiction between Evolvers and ordinary people will incite into an unprecedented degree….

Thinking of this, my mind suddenly fell into a daze.

CORE is like a stone thrown by an invisible hand, constantly stirring up even bigger ripples. I’m also more and more certain that the most critical variable in this world is CORE.

But for most people in this world, some of them choose to move forward and some choose to retreat.

Some people stay where they are, while others are lost and don’t know where to go.

Therefore, there are many people with inconsistent paces and different destinations.

The history of this world is written by everyone, but not everyone’s fate will be recorded.

Can their voices be heard? Can these meager destinies be included in the “beautiful future” pursued by this society?

Regardless of whether it is B.S., the Special Task Force, GRAY RHINO, these self-regulated people at the forefront, how can they frame the correct choice at every step….

Kiro: What are you thinking about? Why do you show such an unhappy expression again?

I shook my head.

MC: I was just thinking that the pain I felt from that boy might only be one thousandth or one ten thousandth of how he felt.

I was able to see his past memories, but I can’t 100% feel his current pain.

Kiro put down the soda can, rested his hands on the railing, and looked at me quietly.

Kiro: Will MC suffer because of her own abilities?

I thought for a moment and shook my head seriously.

MC: Only when you are close to suffering, you are closer to reality.

MC: Isn’t it cowardly if you ignore the facts because you are afraid of pain?

MC: And so….

Before I finished speaking, Kiro suddenly took my hand and gently placed it on top of his head.

His tousled hair brushes my palm, ticklish. I looked at him, puzzled.

Kiro: Then MC can also feel my memory.

The corners of his eyes were bent, and the golden color of the setting sun seemed to flicker in his eyes.

Kiro: Since you have the ability to perceive pain, you should also have the same right to perceive happiness.

I stared blankly at him and couldn’t help but blurt out.

MC: Are you happy?

Kiro: Mm. When I’m by your side, I am happy.

MC: Is this comfort?

Kiro shook his head, giving me a serious expression.

Kiro: Not comfort, but a promise. By your side, I am happy.

The wind rustled the hair on his forehead, revealing his starry eyes and the sincere gentleness in them.

Kiro: But speaking of the topic just now, I also have a question for MC.

His tone suddenly became a little lighter.

Kiro: “If you don’t hurt people, you will be hurt”… what would you do with this choice?

MC: In fact, someone once told me this answer.

I looked into his eyes, as if I could feel a warm feeling pouring into my heart.

MC: He should be the one who chooses the latter without hesitation , but he can always get himself out of the situation.

Fresh and vivid memories. Some are complete. Some are fragmented and they converge like a river of flowing into the sea of memories little by little.

MC: But there is something he is a bit bad about—he likes to keep the secret until the end.

MC: …So I didn’t know for a long time after arriving.

Kiro blinked and suddenly sneezed twice in succession.

Kiro: Is someone speaking ill of me behind my back….?

I chuckled, the last regret in my heart seemed to disappear with the wind.

MC: Given that these days are so unlucky, let us be superstitious for a bit.

I took out a coin and put it in the palm of my hand, muttering something to the night sky.

MC: If it’s positive, it means something good will happen. If it’s negative, it means something generally good will happen----

Kiro: Miss Chips is so greedy. But----what if it’s in the middle?

MC: What a coincidence!

I retorted righteously and tossed the coin up while talking.

The silver coin drew an arc in the air. I held my breath and waited without blinking for the coin to fall back into my palm.

That’s when a cold gust of wind came and caught me off guard. With a shake of my hand, the coin slipped through my fingers. ***Changed some wording***

MC: !

Kiro clutched his stomach and laughed, but I could only watch the coin fall downstairs.

MC: Unexpectedly, there is such a thing as bad luck…

Hearing me sigh, he stopped laughing and looked at me seriously and tenderly.

Kiro: Maybe God thinks that this answer should not be revealed now.

Kiro: So, let us leave everything to the unknown tomorrow.

[Fissure]

The night is dark, like a deep ocean with turbulent undercurrents and unknown crises lurking within.

The old streets that no one cares about in the city form a narrow, unnamed area. Only a few dirty, industrial buildings stand here.

This is the Secret Research Institute of B.S.

I hurried out of the elevator, walked through the dark corridor, and opened one of the hidden doors.

I put the documents in my hand on the table and told the B.S. researchers who looked at each other.

MC: Help me find something.

MC: Without my permission, do not disclose it to anyone and do not tell anyone that I have been here.

MC: Including BOSS.

B.S. Researcher: But Miss Nox, this is not compliant—

MC: Don’t forget that I have the first level permission of B.S.

The winter seems to have sneaked into the city quietly and every narrow street has been immersed in the precipitous chill.

When I left this building, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The roof of the building in the distance seemed to glint with a hint of pure silver, almost melting into the moonlight.

I couldn’t help but look back, only to find that the streak of silver was gone.

A black shadow flashed in the night sky, and it quickly melted into the dark.

All the hustle and bustle in the city, the noise of people underneath.

As the cold wind passed by, he stared at the street where he lived alone in the night, holding his breath for the appearance of a figure.

??: Helios, it’s time for you to act.

Helios: I’m not doing things for you. You’re not qualified to order me.

The person on the opposite end sighed softly.

??: There has always been a big misunderstanding between us. In other words, between B.S. and GRAY RHINO.

??: I hope that our future cooperation can be built on the basis of mutual trust.

Helios: The assumption is that you don’t do unnecessary stupid things.

Helios: If you want to get something like that, just do as I say.

Helios cut off the call impatiently, and the man’s hypocritical voice made him feel very disgusted.

As far as he can see, a figure finally walks out of the building’s door.

He watched the figure until the girl disappeared into the night.

He pressed his lips, pulled the rope fixed to his waist, and jumped off the billboard.

The dark figure jumped vigorously, following the rope in his hand, simply and neatly, and quietly entered the building from the window.

??: Who are you!

Helios: Don’t move.

The researcher who had just picked up the gun was caught off guard against the man’s golden eyes, and suddenly his fingers on the trigger were unable to exert force.

The man played with the knife in his hand, walked to the table, and his eyes fell on the experimental report.

Helios: Did she only leave this thing?

B.S. Researcher: …..

Helios: Answer me.

The golden light flashed in the man’s eyes, and his raised voice was like an unsheathed coldness.

This invisible power. His vocal cord muscles contracted uncontrollably and a word was slowly squeezed out of his throat.

B.S. Researcher: ….Yes.

He finally remembered the identity of the man in front of him and the legends about him circulating in the organization.

B.S. Researcher: You, you are….

Before he could recall his name, the man had already turned around.

Under the dim light, he suddenly turned his head and the corner of his mouth formed into a mocking arc.

Helios: I command you all—

Helios: Forget everything that happened just now.

“The train will be arriving shortly, please stand behind the safety line and wait in an orderly manner…”

The first ray of morning light came into the platform. The boy remembered yesterday’s ordeal and subconsciously took a step back.

But soon, what the blond man had said, rang in his ears--

Kiro: Those who use past experiences to deny themselves are cowardly people.

Kiro: Don’t believe in the stories told by others, let alone the signs of the destiny you have altered.

These words shone like a beam of light into the abyss of his heart.

He made up his mind that no matter what the people in that organization say, he will not waver, let alone contact them again.

Thinking of this, he took a lively step forward.

He can do anything that makes him strong. Such as, submitting a transfer application form. Or give a severe beating to those who bullied him in the past.

And his Evol should be his booster, taking him to farther destinations, just like the train he is about to board.

The train stopped in front of the platform. The sound of running tracks overwhelmed the small sound of bullets in the air as well as the sound of the boy hitting the ground.

The gunpowder smoke from the muzzle quickly dissipated into the air like white mist from the breaths of pedestrians in winter.

The train doors opened and a few passengers stepped out of the carriage, yawning.

Soon, screams and chaotic footsteps filled the entire station.

The tall man standing at the top of the stairs grinned slightly, his smile fleeting. He put the gun into his sleeve and turned briskly to leave.

??: Mission completed.

The passengers panicked as messy, bloody foot-prints were left on the floor tiles.

??: The bait is ready and the fish should be hooked.

[bluemoonbeam15]

I've been listening to the film score "Forbidden Friendship" from How To Train Your Dragon and can't get this scene out of my head.

◇◇◇◇◇◇

He didn't bother counting the days anymore, but he figured he probably should now. The colony had kept him imprisoned for God knows how long. The only thing making the experience linger before his execution was the blasted ant that kept pestering him. What was his name again? Didn't matter anyhow. In a week's time the colony would decide the method and proceed with his execution.

Well...most of the colony.

The kid was here again, as if he couldn't feel the seething rage emanating off the grasshopper. Threats didn't work. Bribery didn't work.

He didn't expect that last one to work anyhow. There wasn't much of anything he could offer the kid. But it was a last resort.

Flik dared to shuffle a bit closer, webbing in one hand. He had his mind set on dressing Hopper's wounds, but that task proved more difficult than he first thought. Even after almost two weeks of coming to see him, Hopper bristled at the slightest touch.

"Please, Hopper, just let me help you. I swear I'll leave you alone for good if you do."

Now THAT was the bribery Hopper was going for. Shame that the kid was the only one who could offer something valuable. "As tempting as that is, I'm not letting you lay one finger on me. Now go away before I cave your skull in."

The threat was brushed off as quick as it was said. Flik -- whether Hopper would admit it or not -- knew that the threats held no meaning. For two weeks Hopper had the opportunity to kill him. And every day for two weeks Flik left the cell, unscathed.

He always asked for permission to help. Despite being denied every time, he was hoping and waiting for the day when Hopper would finally give in and accept his offer. Until then, Flik would go ahead and help, regardless of Hopper's answer.

Hopper flinched away when the ant brushed a hand over his cracked exoskeleton. The plate on his chest was sliced clean across. It had been Flik's target for days now. "Just hold still so it doesn't open more." Flik grabbed some fermented juice and carefully dabbed it on the wound.

Even without the restrained screams, Flik knew it had to hurt. But there was no healing an injury like that without causing pain. "I'm sorry," he glanced up at Hopper, "but there's nothing I can give you to ease the pain."

The grasshopper squinted his eyes open, teeth bared, "How about death?"

Flik sighed, "I can't give you that, either."

"Phyllis doesn't have an arsenal or something?" He bit out through the agony.

The ant's antennae pricked. He'd never heard Hopper call any of the colony by name. "No...we've never resorted to fighting before." He cleared his throat awkwardly, "That's...erm...what you guys were for."

Hopper managed a mirthless laugh, "So much for protecting yourselves. How do you expect to kill me without anything? I don't see you doing it with your bare hands."

Flik pursed his lips, "Can we change the topic?"

"Oh, is my death confidential? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Hopper deadpanned.

"No, I-...I don't want any part of it--"

"And yet, here you are."

"I'm trying to help you, Hopper. Believe it or not, I don't hate you. And don't ask me why," he said quickly when Hopper opened his mouth. "I think they're planning on taking you back to the bird. Since...you can't fly anymore." His gaze caught the bent, hardened wing on Hopper's back. The way it was hitched revealed the missing clear wing beneath.

Hopper didn't immediately comment, which made Flik look up to see him staring at the far wall. If it had been anyone else, they'd think he was loathing over the missing wing. And he very well could have, for all Flik knew. But there was that look of fear that he'd seen on Hopper's face the night of his supposed demise. It wasn't nearly as blunt now as it had been then, but the fear was still there. He didn't want to go back. Not even because of death. Hopper would accept any other method of execution. But going back to that bird was his nightmare.

Flik pushed down the brief thought to reach out and hug him. It was one of the few thoughts he was able to overcome. Voices screaming at him to kill Hopper while he had the chance. Others begging him to pour out his mercy. Every voice was so conflicting that it was bringing on a headache.

He wondered if this was what Hopper was going through in his own mind. Wanting so desperately to die, but not able to swallow the fear of going back to the bird. It was trauma, Flik realized. Anyone who'd had as many near-death experiences as Hopper would succumb to the fear of birds.

Flik's eyes trailed back to Hopper's wing. Another thought crept through in a faint whisper.

Fix it.

The new voice brought with it images. Mental blueprints of how Flik could essentially make Hopper a brand new wing. He could fly. He could escape. And if Hopper was even half as smart as Flik presumed him to be, he'd never set foot on this island again.

But mending Hopper's wounds was one thing. It was another entirely to give him an escape. That would be treason on all accounts. There wouldn't be a single thing Flik could say in defense if the colony found him to be the cause of Hopper's escape.

More than that, could he really sneak behind Atta's back and go against her?

Flik looked back up at Hopper. His expression hadn't change. Still blank as he looked to the wall. The ant forced his eyes downward. He needed to clear his head. All those voices were making him unstable. The last thing he needed to do was something impulsive. Maybe if he kept his distance from Hopper, those treasonous thoughts would go away.

Without a word, Flik sat back and gathered the supplies. The movement brought Hopper back to reality and he watched the ant stand up, situating the contents in his arms. "Where are you going?" Hopper tried to sound indifferent. This was good. The kid was finally leaving. He must be realizing that there's nothing he can -- nor should -- do to help the grasshopper.

But he couldn't fight that fear.

Flik refused to look at him again, lest those voices grow louder. "I have to go." It was probably the shortest sentence he'd spoken to him. He made his way to the cell bars, pushing the supplies through the narrow openings first.

"Are you coming back?"

The ant had one foot through the bars before he froze. That fear was audible now. Something inside Hopper was breaking from the weight of the trauma. The weight of everything crashing down around him. And the fact that he was subliminally calling out to Flik was what proved that the ant's effort these past two weeks had not been in vain.

Hopper was finally giving him permission.

He couldn't leave now. Those voices would torment him for God knows how long. But his heart was pulling at the chains, trying to silence them. No matter how much he fought, the feeling that overcame him was unbearably painful. To leave Hopper when he was at his lowest. To turn away right when he was calling out for help. To abandon him. The thought twisted his gut in the most nauseating way.

And he couldn't fight that pain.

"Yes." Now the shortest phrase he'd ever uttered to the grasshopper. And yet, a weight was lifted off both shoulders. Flik looked back at Hopper, seeing that fear for what it was. "I will."

Hopper held his gaze for a few heartbeats, as if trying to detect any hint of a lie. Whatever he saw, it must have been promising. He gave a faint nod before breaking the contact.

Flik watched him for a second, turning and sliding between the bars of the cell. He gathered the supplies in his arms and took a step--

"Thank you."

He looked back to Hopper, surprised, but his gaze was still downcast. Flik gave a faint smile, whether it was seen or not. The ant continued down the tunnel, mind and heart set on one thing.

Making things right.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

This isn't supposed to be chronogical to my Danger or The Aftermath series. These two are my favorite to write 🥰 I love their hurt/comfort dynamic.

[httpbread]

Hey there again!! I was wondering if I could request another dialogue prompt scenario with Hanako x Fem!Reader again with #33 "I only ever thought there were two kinds of love: The kind you would kill for, and the kind you would die for... but for you, my darling, you are the kind of love I would live for" and #34 "I want you. All of you, and not just half-heartedly, wholly. And maybe that's selfish, but I don't care." It can be past Hanako or present, your choice! Thank you again!! 👻👻👻

Pairing: Hanako x reader

Words: 7048 (mistakes have been made)

T/W: death mention, injury mention,a bit angsty but with a happy ending

On god I’ve written more than 10k for this bad boy with the amount that i have  edited and cut and rewritten but i have finally finished it. sorry it took so long!!

-

“Kisses can’t fix everything you know."

This was exactly why she found herself sitting on the floor of the third-floor girl’s bathroom, the door locked and a first aid kit spread out before her.

"Amane-"

"Please."

The alcohol-soaked cotton ball falters in her fingers at the desperation in his soft voice.

"Can’t we just talk about something else?"

She peers up at him under her lashes briefly. Lucky or unlucky, the boy refused to return the gesture, staring stubbornly off, a crinkle in his brow and a weight in his lips.

(Y/n) looks back down at her work, but not without muttering, "Only when you stop bringing me all these cuts and bruises..."

She knows he’s going to huff and puff, so she interrupts before he can, hoping a change of topic might put him in a better mood, "Because of you, I talked to someone about medical school today."

Amane utters immediately, "Huh?"

"Tsuchigomori-san thinks I should look into becoming a doctor," she keeps her gaze fixed on the cut she was treating, delicately dabbing it clean with the cotton ball, "I’m inclined to believe him."

Her friend is quiet and so is she, working methodically as ever.

"You’re good at what you do..." he mumbles, scarcely loud enough for her to hear over the unending silence of the afternoon bathroom.

"I know," she responds, adding pointedly, "You give me plenty of practice."

Glancing up, she catches his sour look with her small, sly smile. Sour, sour, sour those eyes were. Like two little lemons glaring back at her. Not intimidating in the slightest.

"That’s low," he enlightens her, making her snort under her breath.

Was it really considered a low blow to point out the truth staring them both in the face?

She lets out a long breath, the air slipping slowly from her lips as she returns her focus to the task at her hands.

"It’s only because of you," she reaches over for the antibiotic ointment, muttering, "If it were anyone else, I never would’ve taken any interest in first aid."

Squeezing the small tube so it oozes the gel onto her finger, she then brings it to the back of his hand, ever so gently smearing it onto the cut, "I would’ve never even thought twice about what I was doing."

She never would’ve been so careful.

After all, she’d grown up always having to be cutthroat and serious to get things done. She never had time to just slow down and look at things. There were a million things she had to strikeout. She was meant to act better than a machine, quick, efficient, and perfect.

And yet...

Even if it didn’t come naturally to (Y/n), Amane showed her that there was a need in the world for that kind of softness she all too often crushed and buried away.

Unknowingly, he had taught her many things over the course of their sometimes rocky friendship, but most of all... He taught her that she couldn't get through all her life constantly acting sharp and rigid.

Her wandering thoughts fizzle with the feeling of his eyes trained on her.

"Because we’re friends...?"

For a moment, she forgets herself. She’d gotten lost in her thoughts.

The words left a bittersweet taste in her mouth regardless... Soft on him because they were friends... How peachy.

She avoids his gaze, retrieving a bandaid for the last of his injuries, "Because I care about you, Amane. I don’t want to hurt you, so it’s made me slow down and think more."

While her words were no lie, they were nowhere near the whole truth, either.

However...

A subtle curve tugs at her lips.

"And..."

She can’t help but tease him.

"I realized that every time I help some hurt stranger... that they’re just like you."

He scoffs lightly, those narrowed amber eyes snapping up to meet hers, "In what way? You’re saying every stranger and I are the same to you?"

She shakes her head with a small laugh at his flare of thinly veiled jealousy. Geez. Someone was feeling a little defensive today.

"No. They just remind me of you," she admits, gazing down at his hand for a moment, her own absently stilled, "and then I know that someone out there is probably worried sick about their idiot."

She knew she was always worried about him, at least.

"Oh..."

She brushes over this matter with a new one.

"I’ll be in school for a really long time," she comments, busying herself with unwrapping the bandaid crinkling noisily between her fingers.

"And...?" He trails off, waiting.

"No. That’s all," she carefully slides the bandage out and places it over the cut on his hand, ever so lightly smoothing it out, "I just wanted to hear your thoughts on it."

Despite whatever thoughts and situations faced them, they were childhood friends after all. It made sense that she would care about his opinion... but maybe not as much as she ultimately did.

"Well, I think..." he’s quiet for a moment, searching for words, "I think you’d make a great doctor."

This makes the smile on her lips grow as she looks up at him, watching him gaze down at their hands, a thoughtful look marking his handsome features.

"You’re already good at scolding."

This makes her pause.

‘Bastard.’ She wants to huff at him.

And yet, instead, she pulls his hand up, (e/c) eyes flicking up to meet his quickly narrowing golden ones. She pays no mind to the suspecting look on his face and places an ever so soft kiss the bandaid she had just applied.

(Y/n) watches in silent delight as that familiar rose color blossoms across his pale cheeks.

She slowly sets his hand back down, though not releasing it from hers, muttering finally, "I suppose so."

She then gives his hand a squeeze, smirking a little, "Maybe I’ll even learn how to get my scolding through especially thick skulls like yours."

She couldn’t just let him slander her like that and get off completely scot-free.

"Okay, now you’re just being mean," he decides, stealing his hand away from her to cross his arms over his chest. Which, he was right, but only a little.

She only continues to smirk at him, undeterred.

"Says you," she notes, amusement lingering in her lowered tone, "You want away from me so bad you’re skipping planets."

"The moon is not a planet," he utters, scandalized by her words, his eyes sparkling a little with the way they widen incredulously, only allowing more light in their golden-colored depths.

She waves her hand dismissively, biting back her teasing smile, "Ah, right, right. Dwarf planet, yeah?"

(Y/n) turns her head away, adding the sprinkles to the top of her deceit before he can hastily protest, "Well, I guess since you’re kicking me to the curb, maybe I should find some rich husband to keep me company during my studies. Someone new I can take care of."

"Absolutely not!" Amane declares.

He was right, of course, but she was more than happy to let him think so highly of her. Her sharp tongue would never allow such a thing.

"Why not? Can’t you see it now?" She tilts her head at him, bringing a pointer finger to each corner of her lips and drawing them up in an award-winning smile, "Me, a trophy wife, a trophy husband, both fabulously rich. Three dogs. Maybe a kid."

He wears a look on his face that’s quite the opposite of hers, "Of course I can."

The sudden admission makes her falter in surprise.

"I just don’t want to," his eyes avoided hers.

She slowly lowers her hands, before setting them back in her lap.

"Then you need to get your eyes checked," she retorts bluntly, "The day I find someone who can tolerate me is the day hell freezes over."

Her eyes calmly find the amber ones now trying to burn holes in her.

"You, on the other hand..."

She can’t help her adoring smile.

"You’re going places, Amane."

She laughs a little to hide the slight embarrassment gripping her, eyes drawing to the window, "I mean, more than just the moon. I could see you going anywhere you put your mind to..."

The sun looks like it’s beginning to set, casting brilliant shades of oranges and yellows through the window to make the bathroom.

Yet, the sunset puts no hurry in her unmoving feet. She was sure Amane would walk her home, dark or not. He may be stubborn, and they did argue a lot, but he was loyal.

"Not without you."

She blinks.

"I’m not going anywhere without you, (Y/n)."

She turns to look at him, feeling almost incredulous.

"That’s a funny thing to say," she utters, cupping her cheek, trying to play it off to soothe her beating heart, "I know we’ve been friends for a long time, Amane, but..."

Her face softens with a teasing little smile at him, "Aren’t you tired of me yet?"

However, he doesn’t smile back, almost glaring at her like she’s said something stupid- sort of like when she muddled facts about the moon, except missing that shock factor, now replaced with something more firm.

"No."

He looks down at his hands as she blinks twice.

"I want you."

Her lungs abruptly come to a silent halt.

"All of you, (Y/n)."

Especially when he’s suddenly moving closer, taking her face in his kind hands, "Not just half-heartedly, but wholly."

For once, no protests come tumbling past her lips. She couldn’t even think of any. She almost wasn’t sure she had any.

He swallows, giving away his nerves, but doing nothing to stop those big beautiful eyes from burning bright.

"And maybe- maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t care."

She forces her lungs to work again, almost robotically evicting the breath from her chest.

But she can’t look away from him.

Or keep the big smile from curving at her lips as she leans forward, ignoring her nervous heart as she places her hands on either side of his face.

"(Y/n)...?" He whispers, voice quiet but his pitch is higher than usual, giving away his fear if she didn’t see the obvious terror glittering in his eyes.

"Oh, Amane..." she closes her eyes, leaning her forehead against his, "You’re an idiot."

The slight hitch of his breath makes her audibly clue him in.

"I’m already yours," she won’t bite her tongue now. He opened up to her, and she’d be damned if she didn’t meet him halfway- if not further. "I’ve been yours for a long time now."

She pulls away- but only a little. Just so she can look at him again.

He still hasn’t seemed to have closed those eyes of his, trained on her unwaveringly, surprise dancing in their shimmering depths.

They meet hers, and her heart feels full.

"I’m not sure if I should be hurt that you just called me an idiot when I’m vulnerable..." he elucidates, making her grin further, "Or just be happy that you feel the same."

"Well, I’d say..." she slides her arms past his neck, coiling around him and drawing him in close like the snake she is, "Take what you can get."

He responds by pulling her just as near with a light tug on her uniform, tilting his head a little to seal their words with a warm kiss- and (Y/n) couldn't be happier to follow.

Neither of them could have ever guessed what had lied in store for them, however.

They were both so bright and ready to take on the world by each other’s side, with hands held and fingers intertwined.

Neither of them ever thought that the future would be three graves sitting in a neat little row next to each other, not even two weeks later.

Everything had slipped between their fingers in an instant. They were a snap- two fingers slipping past each other, perfect at first until the friction caught up to them. With just a single little bang, they were far apart once again, as though they had never met in the first place.

No fairytale wedding on the moon. No handing out lollipops to patients. No graduating. No nothing.

Every inkling of a dream they had built came crashing down abruptly, leaving nothing but carnage and broken hearts.

—-

(Y/n) tugged at the bandage.

"Oi!"

"Oi!" She mocks in a higher pitch.

The blond mean mugs her.

She spits his look right back at him.

"Baby," she comments tartly, looking back down at her work, "If you want to start making complaints, stop getting hurt, why don’t you?"

Just about every day this kid kept coming back to her!

Sure, she knew he was an exorcist and all that and a cherry on top, but she also knew one boy wasn’t getting into all of this trouble by himself.

Almost made her want to march right up to that bathroom and give that mystery a piece of her mind.

Mystery number seven...

That damned boy.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"My bad," she quickly removes her hands.

Yeah. Okay. That time was actually her bad. That bandage was looking a teensy bit tight.

"Distracted, doc?"

Doc.

"No."

She looks down at his wrist, gently loosening the bandage on it.

(Y/n) (L/n) was not a doctor, nor would she ever become one.

However, the school had a funny way of taunting her, withholding her as the rumored mystery number eight- the medical mystery, it so happened.

Mostly, her job consisted of patrolling around and taking care of the living idiots. Fixing them up, popping a sucker in their mouth to shut them up, before she was on her way again.

The rest of her official job as a mystery consisted of gathering... specific- er, well, exotic goods, like mermaid scales for example, and things of that nature.

It wasn’t much, but it tended to keep her busy.

Well, that was a lie. Her job was all she had. Not to mention it wasn’t an easy one either. Sticking with the previous example, Mermaids weren’t exactly jumping all over the idea of showering her with their lovely little scales. Despite being a healer, her line of work got her into more fights than not.

"So... do I still get a sucker...?"

She blinks, looking up at the blond, realizing she was zoning out again.

"Hah?"

He smiles at her, nonetheless, a smile much like the sun, in the way that it makes her squint and look away.

"Yeah, whatever," she huffs, reaching into her apron.

She retrieves a handful.

"What flavor?" She shoves it at him, not at all intending to help him choose or find said flavor.

Okay, so maybe the candy wasn’t a required part of her job, but hey, a little bribery never hurt.

She’d much rather be rumored as the helpful little medic with the candy than the crazed doctor butcherer or something.

"Wh- Oi! Only one!" She slaps his hand away, glaring venomously as he laughs.

"Please, (L/n)-san!" He beams at her, bright as ever, not exactly begging, "The mokke are hungry too."

She looks down, not at all surprised at the gathering of pink bunny-like creatures at her feet.

"Right, right. Sorry."

She then promptly offers them the biggest smile she can muster, hoping to display just how sorrowful she was for them.

"Maybe I should start practicing my veterinary skills too!"

And just like that, they’re running for the hills, no more pink creatures crowding her, not even within her sights. It’s almost impressive.

She drops the smile along with the rest of the lollipops back into her frilly ivory apron in exchange for her usual deadpan expression, "Thought so."

But she notices there’s one particular annoyance left standing.

"What do you want, boy?" She drops a hand on her hip and her head to the side, (e/c) eyes narrowing "Got some internal bleeding or something I’m not seeing?"

He gives his head a shake, sending his spiky blonde locks bouncing.

"No. I was just thinking."

She comments immediately, "Well, I’m not into studying therapy either. Move along."

However, he only chuckles at this, amused as though she didn’t completely mean it.

"Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice?"

She looks up at the boy, and contrary to him, she is further unamused.

He only continues to smile at her, undeterred as ever, blue eyes bright with life.

"Maybe," she offers him a shrug, "I’m not a doctor."

(Y/n) decides she likes the way his whole face scrunches up when she pokes his nose, like she pressed some kind of button, "The only thing I am, is dead."

"Well, I think you’re very kind," he says, arguing his own point.

She flashes him a funny look. He was the one who implied she wasn’t nice. She just confirmed that theory. She agreed with him! So, why the hell did he feel the need to continue arguing with her? ... himself? She wasn’t even sure. What a weirdo this one was.

"You just show you’re kind in the way that you’re really mean and you nag a lot."

For a moment, the words make her falter.

For a moment, all she can see is loving amber eyes framed by long dark lashes and darker choppy locks.

For a moment.... they sound so much like something he would say to her...

"It just means you care! And you have a big repressed heart under all those sour looks!"

There’s a finger in her face, snapping her from those melancholy memories. She promptly brushes it away to reveal the scowl marking her lips.

"Yeah? Then explain why I don’t care, then."

But he’s on his feet now, waving away this idea as he grabs his bag, "You do. That’s why you help me all the time!"

No.

That was mostly so Teru didn’t exorcise that idiot no. 7. If he saw all the cuts and bruises Kou got from working under him...

Well, not that she cared about that idiot either.

As far as she was concerned, all these boys were idiots- and she was just going to calmly stay in her lane, away from them all!

That number seven boy was nothing to her except a poor excuse for a boss and distant memories.

The other blond was just a slightly taller menace.

And this smiling idiot was nothing but that. An idiot.

...

......

And… maybe just a little bit of a friend as well...

She waves to him.

"Don’t come back," she says to him.

Yet, he responds cheerfully, waving excitedly, "I’ll see you tomorrow, (L/n)-san!"

-

Tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes.

Week in. Week out.

It was all the same to her.

She did her job. She helped students. She got what she needed. She finished her work.

She kept herself busy and never glanced his way.

That was how it was.

That’s how it was supposed to be.

That’s how it always was.

"Long time no see, (N/n)-chan!"

But that familiar voice shattered any vague sense of order she had gathered over the fifty years since she had last heard it.

There’s a black patch on his cheek now, but changing the cover of a book didn’t change its wicked contents.

Nor did it remove the pages stained with her blood.

"You look well," he tells her, voice high with a giggle, "How old are you now? Sixty? Seventy?"

(Y/n) flinches as his lithe fingers brush her cheeks with unseen stains coating them, but she can’t move away. Her feet have sunken into the concrete below, holding her in place as her chest seizes, ever nerve lighting on fire with the need to disappear.

"You really don’t look it!" He tells her, and she can only watch as his lips pull up to reveal his sharp fangs, "Nope, nope! You don’t look a day past your last living one."

Her lips part almost desperately, but there’s a weight on her tongue and a knot in her throat that squanders any attempt for the words she already lacks.

"Or- well, your second to last day."

His fingers brush past her face to trace through her (h/l) (h/c) locks, a thoughtful hum trickling into her ears "You weren’t much to look at in your last moments, were you?"

As he pulls back his hand, her knees wobble, threatening to slip out from under her.

"Or should I say there wasn’t much left of you to look at?"

"T-Tsukasa-" It’s only one word but it leaves her nearly gasping, the weight on her chest more than paralyzing.

"Hmm~?"

She meets his eyes and finds her scarcely gathered will crumbling instantly.

Those big honey-hued eyes that could so quickly go from looking like someone she loved so dearly to narrowing, squinting as though he needed glasses, reminding her they belonged to something, someone different that was much more sinister.

"(N/n)-chan..." He says suddenly.

His voice is no longer light and airy.

It’s cold, detached, and the exact sound of all her hopes of coming out of this unscathed shattering at once.

"You know why I’m here, don’t you?"

-

"(L/n)-san!"

Kou wears a big smile as he marches into the elusive number eight’s boundary.

He was going to show her today!

Because today, Kou did not have a single bruise on him!

The second he finished up with Hanako and found his feet pulling him instinctively back to the apparition’s boundary, the realization hit him like a train.

Knowing he was perfectly fine, for once, he found himself practically racing to get to her boundary, ready to rub it in her pretty face that he could take care of himself! She’d know now that he was cool and didn’t always need her to baby him.

"(L/n)-san, you’ll never guess!" He throws back another patient’s curtain.

Only to once again reveal nothing but an empty hospital bed.

However, with half of the nurse’s office still unexplored, there was still plenty of possibility for the apparition to appear.

That’s what he told himself.

But deep down, a strange feeling was cuddling in his stomach.

(L/n) was always in her boundary right now.

She’d never admit it, but he knew it was so she could be here to patch him up after his duties with Hanako.

And sure, they didn’t always stay in the office when she fixed him back up, but they always met here.

So, throwing back the last curtain...

"(L/n)-san?"

His brows are knitted together as he asks the air around him.

Where the hell was she?

-

"I’m telling you! She’s missing! Vanished! Disappeared! Gone!"

Hanako draws a card from the deck sitting between him and the mokke in the third-floor bathroom’s window sill.

He places it down with the collection of cards littered in the space before him.

"Your move," he comments quietly.

"Hanako!"

He swallows.

Hanako should have known better.

He should have kept the boy away from her just as he kept himself away from her.

When Kou had first come to him about the pretty spirit he had stumbled upon- he had almost hit the nail right on the head, killing what could come from such an introduction instantly.

But he didn’t.

Because deep down, Hanako couldn’t keep away from her.

He needed some kind of tie- some measly form of connection to her- he longed for it, ached for it, craved it...

Until it came to him in the form of Kou, and his friendship with the medical mystery.

Kou was an open book. Especially when it came to (Y/n). One little question and he was rambling about the spirit. How she seemed, what she had scolded him about that day, how mean she was, how kind she was, how beautiful she was.

Jealousy would stick to his lungs like tar, making him feel sicker with longing than any cigarette would. The boy would talk about her like she put the stars in the sky- and would wonder to him just how she did it, a question he had been asking himself for over fifty years.

But on the other hand, hearing about her was refreshing. It was like a drop of water a second away from dying in a desert. He couldn't ever get enough of her. She was an addiction he could never quite get his fix of but sure as hell couldn’t get rid of either.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He was.

"I told you! She’s gone, Hanako!"

She was. She had been gone for fifty damned years.

Fifty years and he still didn’t have a single solid idea of what to do about it now.

"What if she’s in danger, or she needs help, or-"

"She’s dead."

The words leave a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He’s not talking to the boy.

But he responds, none the wiser.

"And?"

His eyes flicker over to the blond.

Kou stands tall as ever, his fists curled tightly at his sides, a burning emotion in his icy eyes that he didn’t even want to unpack.

"Dead or not, she could still need help."

He couldn’t even help her the first time she needed it.

What was he supposed to do now?

"Please, Hanako," Kou pleads, voice low with despair, "If something happened to her I would never forgive myself."

Hanako sighs at this.

Something had already happened to her once and Hanako still hadn’t forgiven himself.

He pushes to his feet.

"Only a quick look."

-

(Y/n) choked on her own breath, shoes slamming hard against the linoleum floor she’d known her whole life. The hall she’d walk to her classes in, linger in with old friends before everything hit the fan. The halls that once only held the danger of being late due to bustling crowds.

Burning liquid seeped between her trembling fingers as she pressed them firmer over her wound, a sharp gasp pushing past her already parted lips.

She just had to make it to the nurse’s office, her boundary.

Tsukasa couldn’t kill her there. Not as easily anyways.

The staircase was within sight.

She struggled to wedge a glance over her shoulder, fingers slipping from her wound slightly, making her grip her shoulder tighter.

Tsukasa only gazed after her blankly, dull eyes looking black, narrowed as he advanced, efficient and deadly in the way that he moved along after her.

A cry caught in her throat as she whipped her head back around.

The staircase! That was-

Oh god.

A dirty shoelace caught under a frantic foot.

The staircase greeted her greedily, peppering her face with kisses as it yanked her into its arms despite her protesting choked scream, wet hand slipping right off her injury as she desperately searched for something to hold, something to grab, something to save her as she came tumbling down.

But nothing could save her.

Nothing could ever save (Y/n).

She slammed roughly against where the stairs met the wall and turned, thrusting her hands out instinctively to claw at the wall in hopes of stopping only to accidentally shove herself down the rest of the depths.

Her butt met the stairs first this time when she hit, and she could only watch in blurry horror when suddenly her feet were soaring over her head- the next moment managing to slam her face against the floor again.

Fate was cruel.

Her head was spinning as she fought the earthquakes consuming her, forcing herself up on her hands and knees to stare down at a bloody floor. She needed to get a grip and she needed to get one fast.

Yet- her movements were painfully slow as she sat up and back on her knees, blinking the clouds from her eyes as she tried to look up, past the ringing in her ears.

Tsukasa descended the stairs in a much calmer fashion, grinning as he hopped down the last two- or four if her vision was anything to go by.

However, in truth, there was nothing to be done.

Her pounding head had been clogged with honey. Her limbs felt tingly from blood loss and the revenants of adrenaline. She was struggling just to blink in place.

Tsukasa smiled at her almost sweetly.

"Are you done?"

But they both knew the answer to that.

This story unraveling between them has already been written before.

She lifted her hands up to the crouched boy.

His smile curled into a grin as he grew ever closer to devour her as a whole.

But (Y/n)’s hands stopped at his chest and so did he.

She pressed. Pushing him.

Away. Away. Away.

It’s all her foggy brain could come up with in that moment.

His chest vibrates under her blood stained fingertips with a warm laugh.

It’s burning.

Scalding. Scalding. Scalding.

"Oh, (N/n)-chan... is that it?"

A labored breath falls past her lips.

"Is that all you’ve got?"

She squints up at him under the harsh lights above, fighting to give him the nasty look she so longed to give him- along with a piece of her mind.

She forces her lips apart, taking in a shaky breath.

"(L/n)-san!"

Tsukasa hums, mirroring her surprise at the sudden interruption.

"Now you’ve done it," he tells her with a bored sigh, "You’ve gotten us both caught."

If he didn’t want to get caught, then maybe he shouldn’t always be trying to kill her.

That’s what she wants to snap at him.

But her face twists, body erupting into flame thinly veiled by the adrenaline rushing back into her veins as the cruel boy drags her up onto her unable feet.

"What did you do to her?!"

Adrenaline or not- she feels like screaming out as he pulls her bad arm around his shoulders, draping her like some kind of shawl, his other arm coiled around her waist with a vice-like grip.

"Oh, nothing much really!" His singsong voice makes her head ache, "Nothing compared to what I want to."

"Can’t you at least lie?" She hisses through her clenched teeth, wincing too hard to even look at him as she desperately tries to will the pain away.

"Lying is bad, (N/n)-chan!" He huffs and she doesn’t even need to lift her head to see his sour pout.

"So is being mean to girls."

Tsukasa and herself have very different reactions to this voice.

"AMANE!"

She blinks her eyes harshly, not able to catch herself from looking up for him.

The blur dissolves from her gaze, leaving her with the sight of an all too familiar boy.

Amane stands in the wake, cape flowing out behind him. Those short choppy black locks tucked under his cap, amber eyes almost glowing as they peer under the brim. They’re almost narrowed as sharp as the kitchen knife clutched in his hand, knuckles tinted white with effort.

She realizes then that she hasn’t caught such a glimpse of him in a while now.

Of course, the way their shattered connection- or lack of to be more precise- that wasn’t an odd occurrence at all. It was expected.

But she remained like a broken record player, the stylus still catching at the old cracks in her heart.

Even more knowing that this situation was almost all too familiar.

"Aren’t you the one who was always saying (N/n)-chan was special?" She flinches in surprise, snapped right out of her thoughts as a hand grips her face, fingers digging into the soft squish of her cheeks, turning her head. She blinks rapidly, meeting those inquisitive golden eyes. "So- she’s not just any girl."

A scowl makes its way to her lips as she tries to tug her face away from his unbudging hand.

"Let her go, Tsukasa. This isn’t about her and you know it."

Tsukasa looks away from her at this, releasing her head, "Oh, Amane. That’s rich."

His arm around her waist squeezes warningly, "(N/n)-chan and I are friends too, y’know! You should learn to share!"

What a damned hypocrite.

"Friends don’t hurt each other!"

She almost wishes her fun road trip down the stairs had fully knocked her out.

Swaying useless on her feet, pounding head victim to the yelling around her- it was almost more hellish than the stab wound in her shoulder and that was saying something.

"Don’t you listen, boy?" Tsukasa sighs as she lifts her hand, trying to be subtle.

Her shitty plan was to try and push him away again.

But he only snatched it up, before it could even reach him halfway, giving it a squeeze.

"(N/n)-chan and I share a special bond!"

Yeah, it’s called ‘death’- which is what all murderers and their victims shared.

She tries to wiggle her fingers free from him but he turns to her with an unsettling grin, "Isn’t that right?"

She does reply.

"Get off me." 

It’s just not the one he’s looking for.

Tsukasa sighs, shaking his head with a pout.

She didn’t actually expect her request to work though.

But her head slamming back against the ground again is a sure-fire sign that he had let her go.

"Whoopsie daisy," he chirps as her vision swims.

She can vaguely make out his figure, towering over her.

But those eyes glaring down at her are unmistakable.

For a moment, staring up at him like this, panic stirs in her heart.

The sight was a carbon copy of the one as she was met with as she took her last breath fifty years ago.

The only difference this time was that she was already dead before her heavy lids sank shut.

-

It’s almost homely what greets her as she creeps away from oblivion.

Though, not what most would consider homely.

After all, the stinging smell of antiseptic and the blinding lights unavoidable even behind closed eyes were as impersonal as impersonal things could get.

But they were something (Y/n) knew well.

So, she wasn’t at all surprised when she finally willed herself to crack open her eyelids only to find a shitty poster staring back at her.

It was the kitten one.

‘Don’t forget to wash your paws!’.

(Y/n) is glaring at it miserably when she hears it.

"You’re awake."

"No shit," she croaks, but people always said she was ambitious- which is why she closes her eyes in hopes of falling back unconscious.

Anything to escape the shitshow she had escaped the first time by doing so.

Speaking of which...

"What happened?"

She almost doesn’t want to know.

He answers.

"That should be the least of your worries right now."

It’s not the answer she wants.

Her eye twitches, but she fights to keep them closed, still hanging onto the idea of sleep.

"You do realize when you tell someone not to worry they do exactly that?"

"I didn’t tell you not to worry. I just said that shouldn’t be your biggest worry."

She doesn’t respond.

He jabs.

"I don’t think you’ve ever stopped worrying for a second of your life."

She opens her eyes at this.

But not very much due to her glare which she turns her head to the side to give him.

Amane sits at her bedside, a chair dragged up next to her. He’s got his arms crossed resting on the mattress, his head nestled atop them.

Those eyes catch her own.

She looks away, a tired sigh slipping from her lips.

She looks for something to fill the silence.

Anything, really.

She just doesn’t want to be left alone with him. Left alone with her thoughts.

Left alone with thoughts of him.

"Who did this chop job?"

She finds conversation in the bandages wrapped around her arm/shoulder where Tsukasa had stabbed her. She sure they had never even so much as watched one of those stupid hot doctor shows before playing doctor on her.

"Me."

She looks up at him again, surprise pricking her.

She blinks at him as he holds her gaze again.

"You used to patch me up all the time... I must have picked up a thing or two."

"No, you didn’t," she squints at him, a scowl pulling at her lips, "This is the worst dressing I’ve ever seen- and I’m self-taught."

Her words linger in the air but are smothered by the silence after them.

They only gaze at each other for the longest time.

Before she watches the corners of Amane’s lips uncontrollably tug upward.

He quickly looks away.

"Really? I saved you and that’s the first thing you tell me?"

"Do better then," she turns away too, sticking her nose up as she utters, "Maybe open your ears and listen for once and I wouldn’t always have to scold you."

But she’s stunned, staring off as his soft chuckle sneaks into her ears.

When was the last time she had heard him laugh...?

She’s still as her hand is lifted.

Squeezed lightly.

"How do you feel? Can I get you anything?"

She can’t help but turn back to him.

She must look as sad as she feels because his face falls.

(Y/n) swallows, speaking up before he can.

"No. I’m fine."

But he still holds her hand in his.

Watching her.

Waiting.

But for what?

She was waiting too. Gazing right back. But she didn’t know either.

"I’m sorry."

She did know this wasn’t what she wanted, however.

He wears a deep frown, a vulnerable sparkle in his honey shaded depths as he looks down, holding her hand tighter.

"I knew he was back," he’s almost mumbling. If they were even an inch further apart she was sure she wouldn’t be able to hear him. "I just... I didn’t think he would find you so soon."

Her heart weighs.

She sighs, squeezing his hand.

"Amane, I’ve told you already."

She gazes down at their hands, telling him again.

"It’s not your fault. It’s not your job to protect me."

He never stays quiet after these words.

"It is. You should never have gotten hurt in the first place. I should’ve-"

She interrupts tiredly, "-Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. It’s been fifty years."

"You might be able to change the future- but the past is the past," (Y/n) reaches out with her other hand, gently hooking her fingers under his chin to get him to look up at her, "Amane."

He reluctantly shifts his eyes up to find her (e/c) ones gazing deeply.

"There’s nothing to be done. Let it go."

She watches his brows pull together.

"I don’t want to let it go," he says firmly, lacing his fingers with hers, "I don’t want to let you go."

She lets out a quiet breath, "I’m already gone."

He winces.

She’s unhesitating as she tells him, "But you weren’t supposed to be. You were supposed to live."

This was the part where he snapped at her. This was the part where they usually began to fight.

This was the part where they fought, got mad at each other, and then proceeded to avoid each other for the next ten years.

"Back then..."

His voice is low, tentative.

"I only ever thought there were two kinds of love."

She looks down, watching as his thumb runs along hers, listening to his careful words.

"The kind you would kill for," she immediately jerks her eyes back up to meet his, but he avoids her eyes, still looking down, "and the kind you would die for."

Well...

She guesses that was understandable to think given the rocky road of what their relationship had been.

"But I realize now... for you..."

He finally looks up at her, eyes gentle as they greet hers.

"You are the kind of love I would live for."

His words stun her.

So much that she’s genuinely speechless for the first time in a long, long while.

Amane seems to grow a little nervous with her silence, now looking down again, toying with her hand limp in his.

"Well..." she finally finds her voice.

And a scolding as she reaches forward to knock her fist atop his hat.

"It’s a little too late for that!" She tells him sternly, almost exasperatedly, "Fifty years? Couldn’t you have thought of that before you died?"

"Wh- Hey! Don’t be mean!" He glowers, trying to brush her whacking hands away.

But she leans forward just as quickly, yanking him ruthlessly into a hug.

"You idiot!" She huffs at him, despite the way she squeezes him tight.

It’s like a breath of fresh air- acting on age-old cravings like this.

Sometimes when you wanted something and found yourself longing for it- it sounded way better than what it actually was.

But this was exactly as she remembered it.

A big smile breaks out onto her lips, which she’s able to bury in the crook of his neck again, just like she once had. She melts like putty as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.

"I know," he grumbles sourly, admitting defeat, "I’m sorry."

"You better be," she says, uncaring that her words are muffled.

"If I say I’m stupid will you forgive me...?"

She pulls away from him after carefully masking her smile.

He blinks at her stony expression, worries instantly finding him.

She can’t help but give into temptation.

"You know, I’m pretty sure I read in one of my biology textbooks that kisses make everything better."

His anxieties melt right off his face- leaving him almost offended for a moment that she was teasing him now of all times.

But he smiles, running his hand up along her back to cradle the back of her neck.

"Oh?" He pulls her in close, and she can feel his breath tickle her upturning lips, "Well- I may suck at bandages, but I’m actually pretty great at kissing."

"Yeah?" Her eyes flicker up to meet his under her lashes.

He responds by closing the minuscule gap between them, his movements almost too sweet as she melts into them.

He was right. He was pretty great at kissing.