#wish I could separate it but they’ve all become too linked in my mind

[catlliecal]

Ya know, it really does suck when a fandom ruins a ship for you. Especially when you do genuinely want to like it and might have even shipped it had you consumed the media in an isolated bubble. But when fandom shoots down your views on other ships you have in the same fandom by using the soon-to-be-ruined ship against you (along with fanon you don’t subscribe to)… you end up not wanting to interact with the ship as a result.

It seems silly, but it’s almost amazing how interaction with others can have such an impact on your experience.

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2022

Welcome to Whumptober 2022, in its fifth year of running!

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone new, WELCOME!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators, see what juicy whump they’ve created too! We wish you all the fun!

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2022 Prompt List

No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY

Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"

No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS

Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia

No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE

Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall

No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER

Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack

No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING

Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead

No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT

Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm

No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”

Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint

No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail

No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS

Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”

No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN

Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

No. 16 NO WAY OUT

Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”

No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT

Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker

No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE

"Just get it over with." |  Treading Water | "Take my Coat"

No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling

No. 20 IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY

Going into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner Trade

No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”

No. 22 PICK YOUR POISON

Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction

No. 23 AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE

Forced to Kneel | Tied to a Table | “Hold them down.”

No. 24 FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE

Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN

Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”

No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND

Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”

No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT

Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion

No. 28 IT'S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG

Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache

No. 29 WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME…

Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”

No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON'T GET KIDNAPPED

Manhandled | Hair Grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”

Alternative Prompts List

No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”

Ringing Ears

Whimpering

Dazed and Confused

Touch Starved

Ambushed

Sensory Overload

Protective

Made to Watch

Quicksand

Adrenaline Crash

Stabbed

Carried to Safety

Crutches

Emergency Blanket

Tears

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask - A link can be found at the end of this post. ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “bee”, you can create something about bees, about yellow and black striped baseball bats or bees on bandaids. It’s up to you.

Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme.  These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2022 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us, if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.14, #underpressure). If you post works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :) Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters using one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like to whump.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes,  but it only counts once

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?

Of course!

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

See this post

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start writing early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

Just tag the word, ex. emeto

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

If you want your work archived on the blog, then yes. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.  

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2022 tag

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box :)

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

[bluejayblueskies]

the before, the after, the in-between

Chapter One: white daisies Words: 2.9k

Relationships: Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin Tags: Post-Canon, Scottish Safehouse, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mute Jon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies

Summary:

There was no knife, no blood, and Jon was not dead. And when he heard a strangled noise from beside him and looked over to see Martin standing in the doorway of the safehouse, flung open and letting in the frigid bite of near-winter and sunlight, there was sunlight, he felt such a dizzying, intense wave of relief that he could hardly breathe around it.

Then, he opened his mouth to say Martin’s name, and nothing came out, and all of the relief fell away in an instant.

.

Jon wakes up in the safehouse in October of 2018, alive and well but without the Eye and without his voice. In the days that follow, he finds himself confronted with a world that has reset itself in space and in time, a version of himself that is no longer the Archivist, and the fact that death during the end of the world had not been so permanent as it had seemed.

Read on Ao3 (link in source)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five| Chapter Six| Chapter Seven

Or read below:

(cw for mentions of knife violence, mild blood)

There are white daisies on the kitchen table.

They’re what Jon saw first when he opened his eyes, awake and gasping for air, sprawled on his back on the floor and staring up at a brown ceiling and a brown kitchen chair and the bottom of a brown table and, amidst it all, a splash of white that caught his eye. He stared at the flowers, a memory tickling at the back of his mind—Martin cutting the flowers from a patch just outside the cottage, tucking them into a vase on the center of the table, Jon running a finger along the waxy petals and whispering, Daisies for Daisy—and then, with a rush, the rest of the memories came flooding back and he sat up so quickly his head spun, his hand going almost instinctively to his chest where the knife was—

But there wasn’t a knife. He was in the safehouse and there were fresh-cut daisies in a vase on the table and there was no knife. There was, however, when he pulled his jumper up to look, a scar—thick and raised, like it had been there for years.

There was no knife, no blood, and Jon was not dead. And when he heard a strangled noise and looked over to see Martin standing in the doorway of the safehouse, the door flung open and letting in the frigid bite of near-winter and sunlight, there was sunlight, he felt such a dizzying, intense wave of relief that he could hardly breathe around it.

Then, he opened his mouth to say Martin’s name, and nothing came out, and all of the relief fell away in an instant.

There are still white daisies on the kitchen table less than two days later, when Jon has fallen apart and picked himself back up again and fallen apart and picked himself back up again, more times than he cares to count. He sits in the hard wooden chair, legs crossed and elbows resting atop the varnished wood, and stares at the flowers, still as vibrant as the day they were picked nearly… six months ago? He wishes he knew how long it’s been, but he can’t. He can’t Know, and the Eye is gone, and he can’t speak, and his tears are soundless as he buries his face in Martin’s chest and grapples with the fact that for the first time in years, he’s never felt quite so human.

Martin thinks they’ve gone back in time. Jon thinks that time has caught up to them. Like the world, stitched back together and made anew, has simply picked up where it left off, unaware of how deeply scarred its inhabitants have become. Though Jon really doesn’t think it matters much at all.

It’s not the first argument they have. And it certainly will not be the last.

For now, though, Jon stares at the daisies, one hand tap tap tapping the cheap ballpoint pen on the moleskine notebook Martin had given him and the other wandering down to his left calf, where bite marks as wide as dominoes sit in even rows across his skin, scarred up before they’d even reached the next domain.

He rubs a thumb over one of the raised scars—the second set that had been left on his body by the same hands, both born from violence yet so distinct and different in Jon’s mind—and thinks, with a twinge of something deeply longing, I miss Daisy.

He’d missed her in intervals after he’d collected the bite mark scars on his calf. There had been so much to think about, so much to focus on, but in the quieter moments, he would think about the fact that she was gone—really, truly gone, in a way he couldn’t explain away like he could their first time in the safehouse—and feel the loss as acutely as a knife in his side. (Though now that he has experience with that specific brand of pain, he knows that the feelings aren’t quite the same. A knife is sharp and cutting, radiating pain. That ache was deeper, and it settled next to his bones, preparing to make itself at home within him forever.) Now, there is sunlight streaming in through the lattice windows and Jon closes his eyes when he sleeps and fear is as dull as a butter knife, and there is no limit to the moments of quiet. He looks at the white daisies, and he aches.

“Jon?” Martin says quietly, and Jon startles, still unused to not Knowing when somebody is near to him before they announce themselves. “Is… is everything all right?”

Jon nods reflexively, then bites his lip and slowly shakes his head. He looks down at the table for a moment before flipping open the moleskine, uncapping the pen, and scratching words neatly on the next available line despite the way his hand shakes ever so slightly as he writes. I miss Daisy.

He holds up the notebook, and Martin steps closer until he can make out the cramped words on the page. His forehead furrows like he hadn’t been expecting it, but after a moment, he says softly, “Me too.”

Jon gives him a flat, disbelieving look, and Martin sighs. “Okay, maybe I don’t. At least, not- not like you do. But I… I know you cared about her, Jon. I know she was there for you when I- I wasn’t, and I… I wanted to meet the version of Daisy that you pulled out of that coffin. Really meet her, I mean, without all of the loneliness and fog and- and end-of-the-world drama.” A corner of Martin’s mouth turns up into a sort of unhappy smile. “I guess I miss what could have been, then.” Quieter: “I’m sorry. I know that she… she meant a lot to you.”

Jon nods once, folding his hands together on his lap and worrying them together. He opens his mouth, then closes it with a frustrated sigh and reaches back for the notebook. Hastily, he scrawls, I think she would have liked you. Then: I wish you could have met her too. Then, hesitantly: I told her about you. I talked about you a lot. She never understood why I left you alone with Lukas, but she respected my decision to do so.

He holds it up, and Martin’s eyes scan the page quickly. Jon can see the moment Martin reads the last line, the way his jaw tenses and his throat bobs as he swallows. “Only nice things, I hope,” he says after a moment with a bit of forced cheeriness.

Jon exhales loudly through his nose—a breathy laugh, the only kind he can manage anymore—and shrugs.

Martin’s lips twitch into a smile, but it quickly folds under the pressure of the troubled look upon the rest of his face. “I’m glad that you had her,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry you lost her.”

She had me as well, Jon scratches, holding it up for Martin to see. Then, his train of thought continues and he holds up a finger, pulling the moleskine back down to the table and inking a few more lines onto the page. It was hard to be human, but we helped each other. I wish I could have helped her during the apocalypse, and I wish I could help her now. It hurts to know that she could have had this, truly separated from the Hunt, but that she wasn’t given the chance.

He holds it up, trying to keep his hands steady as he gives Martin time to read through it. Then, Martin takes the moleskine from him and sets it carefully on the table before folding Jon’s hand in his and squeezing gently. He rubs his thumbs across the back of Jon’s knuckles as he says, “I know, love. I know.” He lifts Jon’s hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to it. His lips brush against the back of Jon’s hand as he says, “Would you… would you like to do something for her? A memorial, or- or something to remember her with? I know there wasn’t much of a chance to do so back when—back before, and it… it might help.”

Jon looks down at his lap, considering. He knows that Daisy is gone; he doesn’t know if this would make the ache in his chest lessen or grow tighter, and to do nothing and stay the same feels like the safer of the two options. Then, he catches a glimpse of white out of the corner of his eye—the daisies, sitting on the table, vibrant and alive and glowing slightly in the bright sunlight—and, eyes still locked on those waxy petals, he nods.

“Okay,” Martin says quietly. “All right.”

.

.

.

They stand atop one of the grassy hills close to the cottage, a thick scarf wrapped several times around Jon’s neck to keep away the cold and his mittened hands holding the bouquet of cut daisies, their petals fluttering and stems bowing in the wind. The moleskine is tucked away in his coat, but he hasn’t used it since they arrived out here. Martin’s arm is tucked around Jon, hand resting on his opposite hip as he pulls Jon close to his side, and they’re both silent as they stare out over the grassy knolls, peppered with orange and white cows and brown pickets with wire strung between them.

Jon takes a daisy from the bouquet, holding it carefully in his hand lest it blow away too early, and watches it wave back and forth in the wind, flimsier without the support of the rest of the flowers. He remembers calling Daisy’s name with dirt clustering at the corners of his mouth and filling his nostrils, feeling terror grip him as the soil around him began to shift and move, rivulets of water trickling into his eyes and stinging as he tried to blink them away. He recalls the relief, all-consuming and so potent he thought he would choke on it (if he hadn’t already been choking on dirt, so much dirt, soil and clay and sand and gravel all mixed as one), when she had called his name in return. He takes a deep breath in, lets it out, and releases the flower, watching it catch in the wind and be carried away, down the hill and out of sight.

He pulls another flower out of the bouquet and thinks of the way Daisy’s hand felt in his when he finally made contact, fingers calloused and rough and fingernails ragged and caked with dirt. Her grip was so weak, muscles unused to the trial of being made to grasp and cradle and hold, but she held on as the dirt pressed down on them and they struggled to breathe and, still, with their lungs compressed and weary, they used them to form words. He thinks about not alone, though, not alone, and lets the flower go, watching it tumble away on the breeze.

He pulls another flower and thinks of when Daisy said that she’d planned to kill him, and how he wasn’t even able to muster up the energy to care.

The petals on the next flower are wet. For a moment, Jon thinks that it’s started raining and he just hadn’t noticed. Then, he feels Martin’s hand brush against his cheek, wiping away the next few tears with his thumb, and his next breath rattles in his chest.

He remembers being with Daisy in his office, him sitting in the chair behind his desk and her standing in the corner, trying to remember what it felt like to be vertical. He remembers sitting across from her at a sticky pub table, his hands wrapped around an equally as sticky mug of beer as she pulled a surprising amount of laughter out of his mouth. (He suspected that the warmth running through him by the end of the night was only partially due to the flush of alcohol in his system.) He remembers sitting on a now-ratty cot in document storage, one earbud in his ear and the other in Daisy’s as they leaned against the wall, thighs pressed lightly together and hands clasped in a way that felt easy, his nose wrinkling as The Archers played tinnily through the earbuds. He remembers being slumped against the brick wall behind the Institute, cigarette held between two shaking fingers as he tried to pretend like the nicotine would satisfy the burning hunger growing within him, and the shoulder that had pressed firmly against his as Daisy had slid down to sit next to him, a similar sort of hunger clawing relentlessly within her as well. He remembers standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom in the Archives, staring at his own eyes and wondering if they looked just a bit greener today, just a bit less human, and finally walking back out to see Daisy leaning on the wall next to the door, her voice leaving no room for argument as she said that she’d bought a bottle of whiskey and they were going to share it between them. He remembers lying on one of the cots and staring at the darkened ceiling, hearing her breathing deep and even beside him, one thin arm slung over his chest, and thinking about how much stronger than him she was, that she would rather die than be who she was before. (She never thought he was a monster. He hadn’t quite believed it, but he had been grateful for it all the same.) And he remembers what it felt like, slipping into the tunnels beneath the Institute and leaving Daisy and Basira behind to deal with the chaos that lay above ground, unable to shake the horrible, sickening feeling that it was the last time he would ever see Daisy.

Their last night together had been spent listening to the historical podcast that Jon had managed to convince Daisy to try. He thinks she only put up with it as long as she did because she spent much less time listening to the hosts and much more time listening to him talk over them, supplementing their research with his own and going off on long, rambling tangents that more often than not ended up a few subjects away from history. She never minded when he rambled, and he never felt that choking, itching feeling at the back of his throat that caused the words to die halfway through a sentence that he so often got when he felt that he was boring those around him.

They hadn’t even gotten to finish the episode they were on.

Jon remembers it all, and he lets the flowers go one by one, watching them tumble away down the hill until his hands are empty, hanging uselessly in the air for a moment before he drops them limply to his sides. He knows he’s crying in earnest by now, and he hates it. It’s a terribly vulnerable feeling, to be mourning out in the open, and he hates it. His breath hitches in his throat—he would choke his words if he could form them—and he hates it.

He hates it, but he doesn’t stop Martin when he wraps his other arm around Jon and pulls him gently into his chest, whispering soft platitudes into Jon’s hair as Jon buries his face in Martin’s scarf to hide his tears. Martin’s hands rub circles across Jon’s back and his lips press against the crown of Jon’s head and he whispers, “It’s all right, love. It’s all right,” and Jon allows himself one abrupt, hiccuping sob before he pushes all remaining sounds deep within him where they cannot escape.

And down below, near the base of the hill, the daisies lie scattered amongst the grass and the bushes and the weeds, like the first flakes of winter snow.

.

.

.

There are daisies on the kitchen table again. These ones are yellow, collected from the garden in the back before the frost has a chance to set in and wither them. Sunlight makes dappled patterns across them as Jon sits at the table and drinks tea for the third morning since he found himself able to do so once again, made with no milk and two sugars just as he likes. He can hear the gentle rumble of water from the bathroom, his own hair already shower-damp and pulled back into a loose braid. The jumper is Martin’s, too large and draped over his hands where they wrap around his mug, and the kitchen smells of tea and daisies and home. If Jon closes his eyes and shuts off his mind and focuses only on the seep of heat into his palms and the brush of fabric against his arms, he can almost pretend like everything between before and now had been a dream.

Almost.

Jon takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and takes a long sip of his tea. He’s halfway back to setting the mug on the kitchen table when there’s a creak, a rattle, and a burst of cold air as the front door of the cottage swings open.

The mug slips out of Jon’s hands and knocks sideways on the table, spilling tea across the varnished surface and rolling dangerously close to the edge before its handle strikes the table and brings it to a halt. He distantly registers that his jumper sleeves are stained with tea and that the puddle is seeping towards him, preparing to drip off the edge, but the thought is buried beneath an icy wave of shock as he stares, wide-eyed, at the open doorway. At the figure standing within it.

Daisy stares back, eyes wide with surprise, face streaked with mud and blood, one hand still on the door handle, and says, “Jon?”

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt1

hello! i’ve been writing this story over the past few days, just for myself, but i wanted to share it with you all since avatar is on the rise again :) this will be a multiple part series, and it will probably be pretty long, so enjoy!! 

part 2 (also linked at the end) here

“Those are my favorite, too,” A young voice said from behind her. She turned around very quickly and faced the reason why she was here: Prince Zuko.

She bowed quickly, incredibly surprised that the Fire Nation prince was speaking to her. “I wish I could’ve come in sooner. They’ve all been snatched up.”

Zuko looked around to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in closely to her. “They’re making more down in the kitchens, but people will be all over them as soon as they get up here.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Do you want to get some with me or not?”

---

(Y/N’s) servants had braided her hair too tightly. They were only following her mother’s orders, of course, but the headache that was forming at the roots of her hair only furthered her sour mood. 

The night was the tenth birthday of Prince Zuko and all respectable families within the Fire Nation were expected to attend. This meant that she could no longer sit in her room and eat Fire Flakes while listening to her mother complain about how the servants treated her oh so horribly. Instead, she was dressed in her nicest and most uncomfortable clothes to travel to the Fire Lord’s palace. 

She had never met any members of the royal family before, but her parents had many times. Her father was a very respected Fire Nation general and her mother came from a long line of wealthy Fire Nation aristocrats. (Y/N) had only just turned nine, and as her father put it, she was now old enough to attend royal events. She was not excited to attend Prince Zuko’s birthday celebration at all, but her friends were incredibly jealous of her. It had been the talk of their town for moths. She did not quite understand why, because to her it just sounded like a boring party full of the snooty friends of her parents. And she had never even met the prince before, so why was she being invited to his birthday celebration? It did not make much sense to (Y/N) why she was expected to attend. Regardless, the Fire Lord had invited her entire family to the celebration. It would be very dishonorable not to attend. 

“Try to put a smile on your face, (Y/N). You’ll get wrinkles from frowning so much.” Her mother was a beautiful woman and she remained that way because she rarely did anything. She did not want to go into the sun for fear of it damaging her skin. She made their servants do all of the work in her house because she feared that her hands would become calloused and rough. When she was not busy doing nothing, she chose to comment on every aspect of her daughter’s appearance. Her unruly hair, her complexion, and her rough hands from firebending were some of the many things of which her mother disapproved. 

(Y/N) frowned even harder and crossed her arms, slouching in her seat. She turned her head and looked out the window at the hundreds of houses their carriage passed by. They belonged to the regular people of the Fire Nation. The people who didn’t have to attend stupid parties. She wondered if she could ever have a normal life. One where she could run in the streets with her friends and not have to worry about what her punishment would be for returning home dirty, or where she could go to the market and buy a mango for herself and eat it right there on the spot.

Her family’s carriage arrived at the Fire Nation palace after sundown. Her mother exited the carriage first, the her father, and then herself, but not before she pulled out her braids. Her scalps felt instantly relieved as her fingers combed through her hair. The only part of the hairstyle that remained was the traditional Fire Nation topknot. She did not mind that as much as the braids. 

She hopped out and struggled to gather the train of her red dress. If she did not bundle it in her arms, her small feet would trip over the fabric. Her father looked at her disapprovingly and her mother held her tongue, but she could feel the literal fire behind her eyes. (Y/N) cast her own eyes downward as they walked into the palace.

The celebration was the grandest she had ever seen, her own friends’ birthdays paling in comparison. Food surrounded the outskirts of the ballroom, filling the air with the scent of cooked meat and hot pastries. The entertainment danced throughout the crowd, shooting fire from their hands, feet, and mouths in ways she had never seen in her own firebending training. But before they could join the rest of the crowd, they were led into the throne room. It was customary that the guests of the Fire Lord paid their respects before entering parties. It was something that she knew happened frequently, but she couldn’t help the pit of fear that was forming in her stomach. 

She had always thought that Fire Lord Azulon looked incredibly terrifying in the pictures from her schoolbooks, and her thoughts were only solidified as she entered the throne room. Azulon sat at his throne and while he was an incredibly old and frail-looking man, his demeanor was one that demanded respect. 

His son, Fire Prince Ozai, sat to his right. She had heard her father speak very highly of Ozai in the past. His face was contorted into a disapproving frown that scared her almost as much as Azulon’s face. To Ozai’s right sat the Fire Princess, Ursa. She sat with a small smile on her lips as (Y/N) and her parents entered the throne room. She had heard stories of Ursa’s kindness from the commoners that lived in her town. Ursa liked to go out and be amongst the people, much to the disapproval of her husband. 

Beside Ursa was Prince Zuko and Princess Azula. Zuko had just turned ten and Azula was eight, meaning that she was right between the two of them. The children looked very different from regular kids their age. They sat like royalty and both had the most bored expressions on their face. 

Both of her parents bowed to the ground and she quickly followed. To dishonor the Fire Lord and his family meant total disgrace of her own. She was only nine, but she had understand this lesson since she had been born. 

“General,” the Fire Lord said. Her father stood and bowed.

“Your majesty,” Her father spoke. “I bring my wife and my daughter, (Y/N).” They both stood. 

Azulon hummed. “Present the girl.” Her body became stiff with surprise. She looked up at both of her parents. Their faces were contorted in nervousness, even though they tried to hide it. They said no words of encouragement to her. They only parted to let her move closer to the Fire Lord. 

Her hands were shaking but she tried to hide them in the large sleeves of her dress. She bowed once more before speaking. “It is an honor to be in your presence, Fire Lord Azulon.” That is what her teachers had told her to say if she ever came in contact with a member of the royal family. 

“How old are you?” Questioned Ozai. The young girl gulped. Her throat was dry, and she had to swallow many times before she could speak. 

“Nine, sir.” Her voice was meek and she wondered if the royal family noticed it. 

“You have begun your firebending training?” Azulon questioned. 

“Yes, my lord.” 

“Show us.” Ozai demanded. His voice was oddly harsh for a man who spoke to a child. She looked back at her family, but their eyes remained focused on the royal family. 

Her dress was far too restricting to firebend in, but she knew she had to obey orders. She began demonstrating the lesson her and her teacher had spent months perfecting. It required many high kicks and flips, things that were almost impossible in her uncomfortable dress. 

She tried to imagine that she was back in the privacy of her own home, performing for her teacher. She was a kind woman who made firebending seem like a beautiful dance. (Y/N) hoped to be half as good as her master one day.

When she finished, she was breathing heavily and struggled to control herself. She closed her mouth tightly in hopes to regulate her breathing. 

“Dismissed,” was all the Fire Lord said. She bowed once again before practically running back to her parents. Once they had left the throne room, she demanded to know she had done. 

“Very impressive, dear,” Her father said, a smug smile on his face. She beamed up at him before turning to her mother. 

“All that bending isn’t good for your complexion.” Was all her mother said. 

“Why did the Fire Lord want to see my bending anyway?” 

“I’m sure he has heard remarkable things about your progress,” Her father said, before diving into a conversation with a ship captain. 

That made her feel good. Her father rarely expressed that he was proud of her, so she knew that was about the closest she would ever get. She didn’t try to talk to her mother, because she knew her disdain toward firebending. Her mother was a bender, but she saw it as a useless waste of time. 

Quickly, she separated from her family and made her way to the food tables. She hadn’t eaten before they arrived. She had been too busy being prepared by the servants. She stuffed food into her mouth as quickly as she could, but arrived at the fruit tarts a moment too late. Fire Nation fruit tarts were a local delicacy. If they hadn’t spent so much time in the throne room, she might have been able to eat a few before they completely disappeared. 

“Those are my favorite, too,” A young voice said from behind her. She turned around very quickly and faced the reason why she was here: Prince Zuko. 

She bowed quickly, incredibly surprised that the Fire Nation prince was speaking to her. “I wish I could’ve come in sooner. They’ve all been snatched up.” 

Zuko looked around to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in closely to her. “They’re making more down in the kitchens, but people will be all over them as soon as they get up here.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Do you want to get some with me or not?” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. 

“That depends. Are we gonna get in trouble?” Zuko laughed.

“Only if we get caught!” She laughed with him before following him out of the ballroom. He led her down a long and dark hallway that was only lit with torches. Tapestries lined the hallway and depicted images of Fire Lords in the past. She stopped at an image of Sozin, who stared down at her disapprovingly. She knew now, where Azulon and Ozai had gotten it from. 

“That’s my great-grandfather,” Zuko said off-handedly. “Are you coming or not?” She picked up her pace to catch up to him.

“Has anyone ever told you that your family can be really scary?” Zuko simply shrugged. She scoured her mind to find some talking points to share with the young prince. Their lives were so incredibly different. Would they ever be able to find common ground? “So, this whole celebration is for you and you’d rather be sneaking off to the kitchens to get fruit tarts?” Zuko sighed. 

“It’s a bunch of people I don’t know anyway. And I was said that I missed the fruit tarts and I saw you were sad about the fruit tarts, so I figured it would be better if both of us got in trouble rather than just one of us.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” They rounded the corner in silence.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way,” She said quietly.

“I know. I was in the throne room earlier.” He looked at her sideways. “Your firebending is pretty good.” 

“Thanks! I can teach you, if you want.” 

“Teach me? I have some of the best firebending teachers in the nation! Why would I want you to teach me?” 

“It’s called a joke.” 

“Oh. Sorry, I guess.” 

They had reached the kitchens. The servants inside bounced around the room, using their firebending to cook the copious amounts of food that the guests upstairs requested. She thought back to the parties that her own family had hosted. Their kitchens had never been this busy. 

The two children spotted the fruit tarts at the same time. They sat on a platter, stacked elegantly atop each other. She turned to Zuko. 

“You have to get them.” 

“Why me?” 

“You’re royalty! None of the servants are allowed to get mad at you.” She shoved him forward into the kitchens, mouthing, “Go!” At him. Zuko crept across the kitchen, trying his best to not be noticed by any of the cooks. Quickly, he snatched the platter of fruit tarts and ran back to her. 

“Hey! Get back here!” A cook with a gruff voice shouted after them. They ran away quickly and again, Zuko led her through the halls of the palace. He led her outside to a pond with turtle ducks swimming across it. They sat underneath the tree to catch their breath and immediately started eating. The fruit tarts had cooled since the run, but they heated them back up with firebending.

“What are you two doing?” The children turned to see Azula stalking toward them. 

“Nothing,” Zuko said defensively, his mouth full of fruit tarts. Azula rolled her eyes.

“Tell me now or I’m telling Father.” 

“We’re eating fruit tarts,” (Y/N) explained. “Would you like some?” She extended the platter to Azula. The young girl eyed her warily before taking one. 

“You were in the throne room earlier.” 

“I was. Along with my parents. Firebending in a dress isn’t really easy.” 

“I can do it just fine,” Azula scoffed, turning her nose up at her. The girl smiled awkwardly. 

“Of course you can, princess. I’m sure you’re one of the best firebenders in the nation.” 

“Did you steal these from our kitchens?”

“She didn’t steal anything, Azula,” Zuko groaned. “I took them from the kitchens. What’s the big deal? They can always make more.” 

Azula opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the voice of her mother. 

“And what are you all doing?” Ursa walked to the edge of the pond. Again, she stood and scrambled to bow to royalty, but she waved her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). I am Ursa, Zuko and Azula’s mother.” 

“And soon to be Queen of the Fire Nation,” Azula said proudly, stealing another fruit tart. 

“Zuko, I see you raided the kitchens again,” Ursa scolded. “What have I told you about doing that?” 

“That I shouldn’t...” 

“If I may, your highness,” (Y/N) cut in. “I am partially the reason why Prince Zuko stole the fruit tarts...the party was all out, you see, and he saw how sad I was, and--” 

“It’s quite alright, dear. It’s nice to know that Zuko was so kind to you.” 

She smiled up at the queen, who took a seat beside the children and popped a fruit tart into her own mouth. “If we don’t hurry and eat these,” Ursa said, “The whole party will start wondering where we are.” 

read part 2!

[shintorikhazumi]

“Diana.”

A/N: To be honest, I had wanted this to be a Diana-centric fic, from Diana’s perspective. I struggled to find a concept, and had a little help from a friend who sent me a random generator. (Thanks, Kate :>) And when I thought I’d just choose from a randomly generated idea, I came across this video on youtube which was actually a compilation of a tiktok series of the story of two neighbors. Of course, I changed bits of it, and obv the end so if you think you know what the source vid is, dw. I won’t hurt y’all like that ;-; And I’ll just link it at the bottom so no plot spoilers for those who don’t know what it is. Eyyyy.

This fic has a few song recs for y’all to listen to if you haven’t heard them already, lol. ;)

I had been looking for something... “emotional” for Diana’s bday fic. And I think... this works. At least for me, it does.  It’s not from Diana’s perspective, but... I think this works. So without further ado, Happy birthday Diana and...

oh, thank you to @tracedinairlwa​ for some help with the music :> that y’all will see later in the fic :’>. Without further ado,

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 It all started with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

No, it isn’t Akko’s piano. Her piano has been sitting in a corner of her room, collecting dust- untouched for months. And that is just the thing. Unless her piano has somehow become cursed and has decided to ghostly play on its own, then there had to be some other source.

The source of that gentle sound, Akko eventually pinpoints, is her apartment wall- or more accurately, what lies beyond that separator.

As she sits on her couch, admiring the expressive tones, her mind has decided that it wants to capture this special moment, and keep it stored lest she never experiences it again.

Making a quick dash for her bedroom, she opens her bedside drawer and fishes for her old camera from her university days in film club, back when she was an actual student of the Arts and all that creative jazz. She has tried to maintain it, but being under lockdown allows her few chances of seeing the outside world, and the few corners of her home don’t exactly spark ‘inspiration’ for any project.

Dusting the device off gently, she takes it back to the living room, placing it on her coffee table facing herself. She clicks the record button, thinking of making an introduction; but she quickly abandons that idea as she realizes it may take away from the sounds she wants to ring more apparent on tape.

Maybe she can just edit a few captions later on her laptop. Yes. That sounds good.

So she sits.

And the notes kept playing.

 //

[Video Diary(?) Diary? Is this a Diary? Day... Day 1. I hope it’s only Day 1. I hope there’s a day 2. And a three... and a five.

So anyway, Akko here. And uh... I got a new neighbor, I think. He/she plays the piano. I do too (kinda. Haven’t done that in a while, hehe).

I don’t know why I recorded this... this must seem like I’m being a creep, but... They just... played Chariot’s Melancholy from my favorite show and... it felt sadder than usual. The sound felt sorrowful. I don’t know...

I’m... moved.]

//-//-//-//-//

She does not know what compels her today, to slip that message under her neighbors door; but before she can even think about her actions, they’d already been done.

A simple, “can you please play ‘Ease My Mind’ by Ben Platt, maybe?” haphazardly scrawled on a piece of notebook paper is delivered with the anxious feelings of an interaction-craving Akko, starved of a social life since all this pandemic misfortune began.

She is sure she no longer knows how to string a proper introduction together after nearly a year of being by her lonesome.

This is about to change however. Starting today.

Maybe.

She counts down the hours ‘til sunset.

//

[Day 2! Yey! So uh... I kind of... went on the attack- no! I didn’t attack anyone! I just... You know how I have a new neighbor that plays the piano? I sent that neighbor a note.

And you might think that’s all fine and cute, but... I’ve never even met my neighbor... but...

I love his/her music. So much.

And I told them. On the note, of course. Duh, Akko.

I asked them to play ease my mind and... they did.

As you can hear in the video... I guess it was a yes. :>

 ...They eased my mind...

-Akko]

 //-//-//-//-//

She wants to try something today.

She has been thinking about it the past few days after continually being blessed with such beautiful music. Music that had attracted her like moth to a flame. The piano’s daily sunset singing compels her to come reunite with her own.

She had wiped it clean earlier in the morning and now sits awkwardly on the bench, punching down a random note here and there.

What a nostalgic tone.

The C major scale then the G. She plays it. A few arpeggios to warm up. F sharp major doesn’t sound too good, with her fingers tangling up as she traverses the scale. What was the fingering supposed to be like again? Right. Start with the fourth and second finger on the left and right hand respectively.

That sounds much better.

She hums a few tunes, choosing from a playlist arranged in her mind. She settles on something gentle and sweet. A Yiruma song. Just to get the feeling back in her hands.

A river flows as notes along the plain that is her silent room, adorning the quiet flourishes and curves, bringing color to her atmosphere.

She misses this. This tingle in her heart as music fills up her entire soul, not allowing her to think of anything else but this exact moment.

Yes.

This... This is nice.

And Akko plays until the sunset comes.

She can’t wait for it to come.

//

[Day 6. I... I haven’t played the piano in a while, and I’m a little rusty. But brave ol’ Akko here thought it’d be great to ask for a duet from the virtuoso across the drywall, haha. I left a note...

And I though we had something going. I was excited... I said that they could play once I stopped my part, but... did they forget? Or I guess they didn’t hear me.  

It’s okay... I can try again tomorrow.

I hope. Tomorrow...

-This has been Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

She excitedly videos this weekend ‘meet-up’.

Akko still doesn’t know who lives across the wall, but she sure knows his or her favorite songs by now, hearing it daily at the same sunset hours.

She admires the music, as usual, but this time it’s different. This time, they had sent her a note. An apology for missing out last time.

They request a duet with her, to make up for it. Of course, Akko accepts. And now she starts it off, praying and hoping her sound is heard through the barrier that keeps their music apart.

She ends her part of the duet, waiting in the most agonizing few seconds of silence. She briefly worries that her neighbor had forgotten their proposition; or maybe they couldn’t hear her once more.

It’s fine, she thinks... It’s okay. She scratches her cheek, wondering if she should hold on until next time again-

There it is. That beautiful sound, so personal to the one living across the wall. A sound of emotion that could only belong to whoever it was living there.

Akko had never heard anyone else play the way her neighbor did.

She laughs, she feels herself tear up a little. It hurts so sweet in her chest. It’s a fizzy, bubbling excitement. It’s a stretched-out joy across her cheeks.

A success!

A beautiful one, indeed.

//

[Day 8: Akko here. My wish came true. I... got to play with my neighbor! Yay!

... Maybe I should go meet them now...]

//-//-//-//-//

They do it again.

Akko excitedly bounces in her warmed piano seat, listening to her neighbor go first this time around. She listens intently. Once the wall music stops, she starts. This was their agreement, their deal.

The river’s flow stills a moment, and that’s Akko’s cue to pick up the current’s pace once more.

She plays with shy gusto, caressing the keys in a way that shows how she’s fallen in love again. With the piano? With music? Yes. With- ...

Love, huh. It’s such perfect timing too.

Today is Valentine’s day.

Akko doesn’t know whether or not her neighbor has anyone special in her life like that, but if they share the same situation, all alone in their apartments, locked in by the pandemic, she just wants them to know she receives the message their music is trying to get across to one another.

Her heart feels it. It translates it.

It cherishes it.

//

[Day 13.

Dear Neighbor,

I just... wanted to share the words we’ve exchanged, not through any verbal means, but through the sounds that reverberate against the very foundations of our connected homes. Thank you for this message.

I know that music is... our way of simply saying

“I don’t know who you are ... But I’m here. You’re not Alone.” This is for you too.

-Sincerely, Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

It is a challenge.

For Akko or for her neighbor, she doesn’t know. What she does know is that tomorrow is going to be the big day! She’s finally going to see the face behind the songs that have embraced her tenderly throughout the lonely struggle she hadn’t realized had weighed down on her so heavily.

The interactions they’ve had, the conversations, they brighten up her everyday, and Akko is somewhat afraid she’s gotten attached; addicted- if you will- to this unique bond she’s formed with another she has never actually met.

Her mind strays from her current piece, body autopiloting a song called, “Mind Conductor” that both of them just so happen to like, apparently. Another fact that makes Akko feel all giddy as they seem to share a taste in other media outside of music.

She feels herself vibrate with nerves and excitement.

It’s tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day.

//

[We’re Finally Meeting.

Tomorrow.]

//-//-//-//-//

Akko tells a story.

She’s met her neighbor, not knowing what to expect. Despite having a lack of said expectations, she could confidently say it was better than anything she could have anticipated.

She rolls up the sleeves of her flannel shirt, readying herself to write the melodious response to the already playing tune in the background of her video.

Though she tries to listen intently, waiting for her turn, she is distracted. She knows she is.

After meeting someone as wonderful as her neighbor.

Blonde hair and blue eyes invade her recall, flashes of a soft smile and calm voice playing over and over in her head.

Her neighbor is the most gorgeous woman she’s ever met. Breath-taking. Akko says this with utmost objectivity as her lungs struggle to function after first meeting the lady.

Hailing from Scotland, the twenty-five-year-old had introduced herself to Akko. They exchanged a few pleasantries, some questions and information.

Akko had asked how she’d never known she had such a talented neighbor, to which the response was an admission from the woman that she had just moved in and was only staying in the adjacent apartment temporarily while awaiting for a relative to come for her after selling their old house back in their hometown.

Her mother... rests. Having had a certain heart disease for a while, her immune system had proven very susceptible to the pandemic reaper that had claimed her life for its tallied count. She never knew her father, it seemed.

Akko’s heart breaks as she remembers these things.

“All I have left is the piano.”

That’s what she’d said to her earlier.

Akko’s fingers glide across the keys, playing her role in this drama for two.

“I play at sunset because my mother came home at that time from work... she was always stressed.

...I wanted to be of help to her. I was happy she loved it. As I grew up, it became a habit.”

Akko fumbles with a few keys, making a slight mistake. She hopes her neighbor can forgive her for being so distracted at the moment, and right after they’d finally met too.

“Thank you, Miss-”

“Akko is fine.”

“Thank you, Akko. You’re playing has, in truth, kept me motivated and less lonely.”

Akko remembers having promised before their parting to their respective units that she would keep playing with her until she moves out.

Akko blushes upon remembering the stunning smile she was offered afterwards.

Her neighbor had been camera shy and so Akko didn’t get the opportunity for a picture. She hopes for the best in the future. She’ll try again if ever the lovely lady was ready.

They have time, anyway.

They do.

//

[Day 20, folks! Akko here, writing another video caption entry, Diary, thing... haha. The song playing right now in the video is gorgeous right? It’s... her favorite song. It’s called, ‘In case you don’t live forever’. She said it keeps her loser to her mother. It keeps her in her heart.

She plays so beautifully...

She’s just as beautiful. She’s amazing.

She’s... a special soul.

I feel goosebumps.

I’m glad. For her. Her music doesn’t sound as sorrowful as when I first heard it. It’s still every bit as emotional, though. I could cry. Really, I could...

...I’m so happy she’s healing.

It’s a process, but... I’ll be here. I’ll be here for her.

I’ll be here for you,

“Diana.”]

//-//-//-//-//

There are times when Akko thinks she’d like to get to know her neighbor more, a little more chatting, a few more minutes talking. 

However, it always seems as though there’s this unspoken rule. This... ‘don’t-get-too-close’, ‘don’t-ask-more-than-you-should’. It’s like a boundary that keeps Akko from learning more, discovering more.

Neither of them purposely meet-up outside their closed doors either, this lockdown and what-not all up in their face.

They see each other around the building sometimes, wave a hand, shake a plastic bag of groceries, but building protocols don’t really allow loitering in the halls, and Akko feels she’d be crossing a line in inviting the girl over, and she doesn’t see herself getting invited instead either.

Despite this longing, she isn’t all too dissatisfied with the current standing of their relationship. Peculiar as it may be, she rather likes this.

A relationship built on a communication based on raw emotion delivered through their music.

If Akko ponders it deeply, it’s quite an intimate relationship, what they have. Thoughts and feelings in their purest form- unspoken, but not hidden.

She might not know too much about Diana. She may not know much of her past, or even her present, or general objective facts about the woman.

But what Akko does feel she knows is Diana’s heart. 

And Akko knows its utterly beautiful.

//-//-//-//-//

Moonlight Sonata has never felt so sad to her; its sounds reflecting something they both felt, Akko believed.

Akko feels her heart clench and ache in her chest, her face a little hot and her palms sweating.

Only a week left before the clock strikes twelve and the magic is broken.

Diana is finally moving out.

It is... their final duet.

How unfortunate.

Akko sighs, thinking about the pain she’ll feel later as she edits this portion of the video. Compared to the happy tones and build ups of all the others, this... is something she doesn’t know if she can do.

Maybe she can ask Amanda for a favor this time around?

She’s actually shown some of her closest friends her video logs, and they all had sent kind messages to Akko’s new friend, who in turn, felt worlds and worlds happier.

Akko feels happy as well.

Diana’s joy is contagious. It shows through her expressive music that gives away the feelings her face doesn’t show.

Speaking of Diana’s face... she still hasn’t agreed on showing her face on camera. Akko supposes it’s still too early. Maybe before she leaves? Oh Akko hopes so. She wants to have something to look at physically to remember Diana by. Not that she’d ever forget.

Still, a little memory help never hurt anyone.

Diana’s turn comes in smoothly through the wall, Akko unable to keep her smile from forming.

She’s going to miss this. The playing; the sometimes awkward, but unconventionally amazing duets; the letters shoved underneath door; and the very rare hallway meet-up where Akko can only smile at Diana as they exchange a literal word or two.

Akko reminisces.

The past... two months now, have been amazing. Incredible. Life-changing. Akko wonders what the future has in store for them both after they part.

Maybe they could meet again. Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.

Akko knows she’ll keep playing still. At the same time, on a weekend, as the sunsets. For Diana. She’s promised she’ll keep making the video logs. She’ll send them over to her so that they can still keep this music alive in some way.

//-//-//-//-//

[Day 62.

Hi, Diana. It’s me, Akko.

I... wrote you a song...? Or well, I started to... I’m not quite done yet, hihi. Got a little too ambitious and all... thought I could add some other instruments besides our- the piano... aha..haha...

When you first told me your story, I started picturing it out. A life dyed with all the colors of the spectrum. From the vivids to the grays, it was such a lovely imagery in my minds eye. A painting I could not get out of my head.

And so this song is... yeah. That.

A story.

A story about this wonderful twenty-five-year-old woman who so happened to move next door to this uninspired artist. She’d lost her mother to a stupid virus, and she’d never known her father. Her house got sold, and she had only one distant relative she knew of left.

She spends her days along in a box of white walls and empty silence. That is, until the sun decides to rest for the day, and it sends its golden rays of energy to the girl and to her piano that she thought to be her sole companion in this tragedy.

She plays her favorite songs, filling the emptiness with her own emotions; making the intangible manifest itself and cause a dumb girl next door to one day slip a scratch of paper underneath her door, asking for a song.

A note with a request... and with a message that she’d heard her feelings- her loneliness; and that she’d never let her be alone anymore.

And that’s how they became friends, huh, Diana?

Two pianos, Two people, and a wall that keeps them apart.

They didn’t know who was playing on the other side. But did it matter?

In this dreary, blackened time of the world,

‘You can be the light of somebody else’ darkness, so keep shining.’.

Dear Diana,

In case my playing isn’t as emotionally expressive as yours, I hope you at least know this now. Through this video.

That you were, and are... my light.

-Akko.

P.S. I hope I finish the song and give it to you before you leave.]

//-//-//-//-//

 She feels herself hyperventilating, her vision bleary. She can barely stand. She feels like vomiting, and dying, and screaming all at once.

Her anxieties run rampant all over the room.

If this keeps up, she may as well hurt herself beyond help.

She trudges over to the one thing that could ground her at the moment.

The piano.

Her hands are shaky as they do multiple attempts to turn on the keyboard, hitting the wrong buttons and turning the volume knob up too loud that when Akko accidentally leans against the keyboard, hand pressing down on many keys, the sound almost blows up her eardrums.

She curses, smashing a hand against those same keys, the cluster of notes echoing through her apartment walls.

“aaaaAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

She allows the scream to tear out of her throat; emotions, wild horses finally released into the open.

“AGH! AGGHHHH!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH”

She falls face first onto the keys, now ignoring the loudness of their noise, momentarily thinking it would be better to allow her ears to bleed out so she’d never hear a thing again.

She wants something, anything, to drown out the pain she feels right now.

...

She sobs against the keys, head lifting as she apologizes to her piano, wiping off the tears that are quickly replaced by fresh ones.

Akko gives up and plays a note. Then two.

Then she’s playing ‘you’ll be in my heart’ and she’s crying more.

She lets herself cry as she plays.

Today, she was supposed to see Diana off. She had left a final note the day before yesterday, asking if she could do so. Help Diana carry her things, maybe swap numbers, and just... maybe keep this connection going for years to come.

Last night, she’d said good night at Diana’s door.

The girl gave her the sweetest smile, an almost unnoticeable blush on her features.

Oh, but Akko noticed anyway.

Of course, she would. With how shamelessly she stared at Diana at that moment.

Diana laughed, stepping closer and patted Akko on the cheek- kissed her there- before turning about to shut the door, along with the lights Akko saw go off from underneath it.

She was excited for the morning.

But when morning came... Diana was gone.

Akko had been thrown into confusion and a frantic state that she’d bolted all around, searching for signs or a left behind message.

Nothing.

She had then run down to ask the land lady, and that’s where she’d found out.

The heart disease Diana’s mother had was hereditary.

Diana had had an attack, and with an emergency alerting device, she’d been able to contact her only family, and had been taken to the hospital.

That was good.

That gave Akko relief and joy.

...so why is she despairing now?

...She didn’t know.

No, not the reason for her despair. She knows that.

The reason she was in this state is because she didn’t know.

She didn’t know what had happened.

She didn’t know Diana had suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night.

She didn’t know where she was, or where whoever took her.

She didn’t know that Diana had that heart disease too.

She didn’t know because she never got to ask.

She never got to learn more, know more.

... Did she not know Diana then?

Her mind taunts her, her heart hurts her.

She doesn’t know a lot about Diana. Not as much as she thinks.

That’s what they tell her.

For all the emotions they’d exchanged through music, that was the extent of it. Had Akko been too presumptuous in thinking she’d known Diana so deeply because of what they’d shared?

When in reality she may as well be a random stranger playing her show tunes and disturbing her neighbors.

Akko almost believes it.

But no... no. She can’t do that. She can’t assume those things. Not about their connection. Not about Diana.

Because Diana had told her once upon a song that she- that Akko had been her light. Her comfort. Akko believes in Diana. So she believes these feelings as well.

Yet these feelings of her own were so conflicting, so daunting. They battle in her mind, questioning and justifying every little thing. All things relating to Diana. Diana and... Diana.

Akko coughs out a few more sobs, throat incredibly dry.

She stops playing for a moment, dragging herself to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Then she goes back to the piano.

She... doesn’t feel like playing again.

What should she play anyway?

What song does she want to play? What song... Song... Song... Diana... What was Diana’s favorite song?

Diana? Song? A song for Diana? A song about-

Akko falls off her piano bench as she scrambles for her coffee table, sighing in relief as the papers for her composition are still there.

With shaky hands, she takes the sheets and a pencil and brings them over to the piano.

And she writes a few notes, then a few bars.

Diana.

Diana.

Who is Diana.

What does Akko not know about her. Her other struggles? Her sickness? Her trials and her fears? Her past?

That melody... sounded too sad for a parting gift. Akko doesn’t want Diana to feel more sorrow when she moves out...

Then....

What does Akko know? About Diana?

“Diana is...”

Expressive, emotional.

Diana is intelligent, an intellectual.

Diana is sincere and sweet.

Diana is talented and tasteful in music.

Diana is... her neighbor, her... new friend,

....Akko’s... what?

What was she to Akko?

“You are my light.”

-Akko ends up writing as a title.

But that’s a little too embarrassing to give to someone who was just your neighbor and a new friend... right?

And maybe it didn’t exactly represent the whole thing Akko had written.

So she erases it, biting her pencil as she tries to come up with a new name, a new caption for this creation.

What could it be. That describes Diana in her entirety; her life, her struggles, her joys.

Who is she? Who is Akko’s neighbor?

Akko scratches her head in frustration, wracking her brains even more.

With a sigh, she replies to herself aloud, the simplest, somewhat plain, and stupidly obvious answer.

“Well, she’s Diana.”

And it clicks.

That she is.

She is Diana.

And Akko throws on a jacket, a mask, and some shoes and thinks no more.

//-//-//-//-//

[Dear Diana,

I know very little about you

But you’ve changed my life.

Really you have.

You gave me back my passion, and a little bit more of that even. Maybe aroused a new passion within me.

I’d say, “You’ll be in my heart”, but that sounds too much of a farewell, to be honest.

And I’d rather not say goodbye just yet.

Not like this.

Music... Is a powerful thing. Despite the rampaging emotions I’d felt as I found out what had happened to you today, I- I kept playing. It grounded me. It helped me.

Diana, you once told me I was your light.

And you know I’ve told you already. That you’ve been MINE.

Diana. This video might look incredibly shaky and chaotic.

But please forgive me for that, and know that it is because I’m running with all my might to find out where you are. I got a hint for the hospital you might have been taken too.

It kinda seems like I’m a stalker now, huh?

I’m sorry. I just... I-

I can’t say goodbye to you....

Not just yet...

I still... have a song for you.

So... wait for me?”]

//-//-//-//-//

Eyes blink, bright white melting into color. They scan the room, looking for hints to identify her location.

Her body aches, her chest hurts. Her throat is parched. Her head is throbbing.

What is that annoying beeping sound-

Ah. Of course.

The hospital.

Again.

She hates it. She hates the smell of antiseptic and sterile sheets. She hates the taste of badly prepared hospital meals, and too-dry food.

The water has this strange quality to it when you’re in the hospital.

She knows this well.

She hates that she does.

She sighs, sinking into her pillows. At least those are comfortable.

Ugh.

What bad timing, really. For an attack.

She was supposed to move out today. She was supposed to meet with her aunt- who actually has probably met up with her by now, seeing as Diana is in a hospital and her usual alert device seems to be charging within reach beside her. Also she sees Daryl’s purse on the seat.

Maybe the woman had gone out temporarily for something important.

That was fine.

It just meant Diana was left alone again. If only for a short while.

...Alone, huh.

These past two months, she hadn’t been that.

All because of one girl, one Atsuko Kagari that she’d met by chance through a piano and through a wall. The sound quite literally carrying over through a wall.

Diana can’t believe she used to be so skeptical of thin-walled living spaces, wondering how people kept their privacy.

Now, however, she feels blessed that that was the case.

Else she’d never have met... her light.

That’s right.

When everything, her vision, her hopes, her heart had steadily been dying out, through her dim came a glow. That glow was the connection she’d found through her neighbor across a wall.

It had surprised her the first time she realized someone was playing alongside her one sunset session, months ago. She would have thought it creepy had the person’s music been any less captivating.

There were just so many colors in the music, there was just so much warmth. It sounded a little rough, a few hinges rusty at first; but it came along after a few pseudo duets, and then Diana had found these duets to be a staple in her life.

Then she met Akko for the first time, and more warmth and color came into her life.

Diana found herself enjoying the musical conversations they had, intrigued by thoughts that they were actually able to communicate in that way and understand one another to that extent, no words attached.

And she enjoyed these nonverbal bonding moments.

But when they actually wrote to one another, or when they’d have their short greetings when they’d meet up in the hall, Diana found herself wanting to draw even closer, to get to know Akko even more.

And when Akko asked if she could do the same, Diana had found it so easy to open up.

She’d loved to know even more about the girl.

But how would she do it now?

They didn’t have the chance to exchange numbers, and Diana was probably moving as soon as she left the hospital. Her things were already being shipped to her new home, after all. There wasn’t much reason to return to her apartment, really.

“Idiot. Stupid, Diana. Not asking her sooner. What are you supposed to do no-”

Two knocks on her door.

It doesn’t open right away. It doesn’t seem to open at all.

Diana deduces it’s not a doctor or nurse then. And it might not be Daryl either because the woman would have already called the attending nurse to open the door already.

So then, who could it be?

Diana tries not to let her mind wander and get her hopes up, because there is no way- just no way- it’s who she hopes it will be.

The door opens, and her breath is unexpectedly bated- and she releases it, seeing it’s just the janitor.

Trying not to let disappointment leak into her tone, she greets him a good mor-

“I’m glad... I was right.... hah... hah... You’re here... Diana.”

And Diana really shouldn’t just assume things such as being wrong, and that maybe her neighbor was a creep two months back.

Because now her neighbor, all frazzled, sweaty, and out of breath, is right there in front of her, a bunch of papers crumpled in one hand as the other is held over her heart, trying to calm herself.

“You... hah... didn’t let m-me... Sa-ha-y goodbye... so... you’re not allowed... to leave me waiting in silence and never respond...” Akko huffs. “There’s no more wall preventing you from using words now.”

Her breathing finally slows, and she manages to look up.

“I still have a song for you, after all.”

Diana doesn’t realize, nor does she feel the tears flowing down her face.

Akko doesn’t either.

“L-Let me know what you think... It’s my first song and all...” She becomes this shy blushing school girl as she approaches Diana’s bedside, awkwardly handing over the worn pieces of paper, all wrinkled up from whatever adventure Akko had been on prior to arriving here. “... then maybe we could play a duet again or something...”

She mumbles it so quietly Diana almost didn’t catch it.

She smiles.

She doesn’t think about the reality that was supposed to occur today had she not been taken to the hospital.

Virtual duets aren’t really her thing. She much prefers hearing sound in person, in real-time. She prefers the ability to adapt and adjust to play alongside someone; to feel expression and emotion first hand; to experience a duet in full.

So it’s a simple reply that she has ready, along with a smile on her face as she takes Akko’s hand in hers.

“I’d love that.”

 //-//-//-//-//

 Diana has told her many times that it’s thanks to her that she was able to recover as quickly as she did, and be out of the hospital in only a week.

Akko sheepishly denies that every time.

They’re both just glad things seem to settle to be alright now.

Diana leans her head against Akko’s shoulder as they share a pair of earphones, listening to the composition play on the latter’s laptop.

“I love it.”

“I know. You’ve told me that the past 4 months, everyday.”

“And I will continue to.”

Akko tries her best to hide the smile that had grown on her face, but it’s impossible. It comes out in laughs and a few soft tears, and she rubs her head against Diana’s.

“You have all the time to, it seems.”

“Yes, and I won’t waste it.” Diana quips, turning her head up to look at Akko with the tenderest of smiles. “Care to play?”

Akko simply smiles, before wrapping Diana up in a hug so deep, and warm, and tender. Without a word, she stands them both up, walking them over to two keyboards now positioned side-by-side.

They take seat. With eyes meeting, and a small nod, they begin.

They don’t need words to figure out the rhythm they’ll fall into, or what they should do, or who plays what part for today.

Akko’s colors seep out, her warmth embedded in her music. Diana’s expressive emotions tell Akko all she needs to know, and they play in harmony.

Together, they tell a story.

A story that began with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

A story about its music and what lay beyond a wall.

A story once called, “Diana”.

Now,

“Diana and Akko”.

  A/N: ....  Hrmmm... I didn’t like how i ended it, tbh,,, hahaha. I just... lost my thought process now. I’m tired and lost.

Anyway.

Based off this story

The follow-up to this won’t be now, or anytime too soon. Or tbh, I could just end it like this. But there’s this ache in my heart that wants to know what happens next as well. Or more things such as how Diana ended up staying. But well,

...who knows.

Bye for now.

~Shintori Khazumi

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Animedia April 2021 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

Don’t Miss the Seriously Insane Decisive Battle Card!

After accumulating numerous dramatic incidents, “the time of the decisive battle” is finally arriving for a number of this term’s noteworthy animes. What sort of developments will they show… the seriously insane moment is near!

What Does Sesshōmaru (biological father) Think of the Yashahimes (daughters) As They Head Towards the Decisive Battle While Baring the (binding) Spell on Their blood?

“Hanyō no Yashahime” is nearing its climax and the insane truths like the details on how the three Yashahimes were separated from their parents have been revealed. During Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha’s first confrontation with Kirinmaru, Sesshōmaru appeared but contrary to the “emotional father-daughter reunion” we were expecting, Sesshōmaru left without saying a word. It appears Sesshōmaru is concerned about the twins’ mother, Rin, who is currently sleeping within the Tree of Ages. What he is trying to do and what he thinks of his daughters continues to be a mystery. On the other hand, Kirinmaru’s elder sister, Zero, is steadily reaching out her evil hand towards the Yashahimes. As half-demons and a quarter-demon (respectively), can Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha awaken their true strength in order to attack that evil hand… …?!

Character Bios

Higurashi Towa Sesshōmaru’s daughter and Setsuna’s older twin sister. She loses her demonic powers on the night of the new moon and her hair turns black. She treasures Setsuna and is slowly regaining their sisterly bond.

Setsuna Towa’s younger twin sister. Having had her sleep stolen by the Dream Butterfly, she is unable to sleep. She possesses strong demonic powers, but they are sealed by Monk Miroku.

Moroha The daughter of Inuyasha, a half-demon, and Kagome, a human. Having been separated from her parents, she was raised by the wolf demon tribe. When rouge is applied to her lips, her demonic power awakens, causing her to transform into “Beniyasha, the Destroyer of Lands” and go on a rampage.

Sesshōmaru Towa and Setsuna’s father. He protected his daughters immediately after their birth as Zero aimed for their lives, but he currently does not try to get involved with the two. His true motive behind that has yet to be revealed.

VS the People Who See It Through, Interview with Komatsu Mikako (Role of Setsuna)

“Please look forward to the climax that will be beyond imagination!”

— Looking back at the broadcasting up until now, which episode made you think “That was insane!”

Episode 14 where the truth behind the forest fire and Towa and Setsuna getting separated was revealed. I mean Homura’s (the one who caused the fire) intense love for Tamano was amazing. It was warped but his deep, strong love was incredible. On top of that, the shocking development of Zero being the mastermind behind Homaru and Sesshōmaru being present really made that episode “insane” in more ways than one.

— While there is curiosity about Sesshōmaru’s relationship with Zero and his motives, how do you yourself see him Komatsu-san?

Sesshōmaru doesn’t say much and his actions are hard to understand but I think he’s a character who always proceeds in his own logical way. As such, I think the current Sesshōmaru moves not because of the simple principle that “Love for a human has sprouted” but rather it is the result of him looking deeply at himself from different angles such as the curiosity at his own change of heart and/or looking at the general drift of affairs from the standpoint of demon. Also, I have a feeling that he has this belief that “He will protect and treasure things that are within his reach” so I feel real at ease about that. From Setsuna’s standpoint, I want to look forward to how he will show that through his actions from here on.

— The climax is right before our eyes, but could you give us hints as to what sort of future developments will unfold?

A development that is like “I didn’t imagine this kind of finale…!” awaits. Personally, I have a feeling that the “Test of Courage and Cowardice” that Sesshōmaru spoke of will become a keyword going forward. What did Sesshōmaru entrust to Towa and Setsuna and how did he feel? From here on is our critical moment. There is still the matter of the Dream Butterfly with Setsuna and many mysteries remain. I hope that one day, (the twins) can confront Sesshōmaru as father and daughter and that the things that they desire and have been entrusted with tie together. Please look forward to it!

The Yashahime’s Trump Card is the “Bond” They’ve Cultivated Amongst the Three of Them

Setsuna & Towa

Although Setsuna has not fully regained the memories of her past, while moving alongside Towa, she has started to acknowledge her as an older sister.

“At the beginning Setsuna didn’t really know Towa so she followed her movements out of the corner of her eye. But at some point, she started looking straight at her. However, she’s too embarrassed to show that change. Thus, I also control my emotions when I act” (Komatsu)

Gradually opening her heart ♪

Moroha & Setsuna

While battling demons, Setsuna and Moroha show that they’re a superb combination because they trust each other’s strength.

“I would say she’s not as worried about Moroha like she is with Towa. (laughs) She has a sort of peace of mind like ‘She’ll probably be fine’ and I think Moroha has become a comrade she can entrust her back to while fighting. Also, Moroha has a persistent “let’s get along!” type of personality so there’s a part of Setsuna that has been saved by that.” (Komatsu)

We asked Komatsu-san! Oh snap oh snap! Grand Prix

Characters with Insane Mysteries Best 3

1. Sesshōmaru

Sesshomaru’s level of mysteriousness stands out and I have a feeling he is continuing to evolve. However, after recording all the way to the final episode, I feel like the times where his intentions come through in a more straightforward way is increasing.

2. Riku

He’s a character whose investigations about him progress somehow so Riku’s level of mysteriousness is high. His human like sense and his birthplace are things I’m curious about.

3. Jyuubee

I don’t think Jyuubee of the corpse shop is a villain, but he seems to know things through his connection with Riku and he might surprisingly have an ulterior motive…? Although he could just be a regular middle-aged man (laughs)

We Asked Komatsu-san! The Enemy Prize

Who’s the number 1 enemy character you’re curious about?

Riku

“He calls Zero “elder sister” but we still don’t know what his connection to her is and Riku himself mutters things that have a profound hidden meaning so I feel like he has some kind of painful circumstance. Riku is the number 1 enemy (?) I wonder about.” Komatsu.

Cannot Overlook These Enemies

Those who are too dangerous

Kirinmaru A beast king on par with the Dog General (Sesshōmaru’s father). Having once received a prophecy from the Shikon Jewel that he “Would be destroyed by an existence that is neither human nor demon”, he is cautious of the 3 Yashahimes.

Zero Kirinmaru’s older sister. Due to her ties with the Dog General, she despises humans and half-demons. She is the mastermind behind the forest fire that separated Towa and Setsuna.

Oh Snap! The Yashahimes or Kirinmaru… Whose side is Sesshōmaru on?

When he sealed Inuyasha in the black pearl, Sesshōmaru behaved as though he was Kirinmaru’s ally. How he will deal with Zero who is after his daughters; pay attention to Sesshōmaru’s actions in the last 2 episodes!

Illustration Description

Towa and Setsuna prepare themselves while having complicated feelings towards Sesshōmaru. Moroha also faces the decisive battle with her characteristic cheerfulness.

[ghost-in-the-stalls]

Neil Josten's Playlist Part 1: Andrew

Masterpost and link to the playlist in its entirety

These songs are going to be the biggest chunk of the playlist. Are we surprised?

Okay here we go:

1. Take Me To Church - Hozier

I was not joking about Neil being a Hozier fan. You cannot tell me this boy doesn’t hear this song on the radio and immediately think of Andrew. Every time it came on he’d make sure the radio stayed on the station so he could listen all the way through. It got overplayed but he’s probably the only person in the world who never got sick of it at the time. He got used to listening to the same songs over and over again with his mom, so he's even comforted by repeating songs now.

5. Stay - Rihanna & Mikky Ekko

So one night, after several nightmares within the span of a few hours, Neil wasn’t too proud to admit that he absolutely wasn’t going to get any decent sleep that night. Andrew took him on a long drive without even having to be asked. The silence was shoving Neil even further into his thoughts, so Andrew turned on the radio. He settled on a station that was playing softer music that Neil probably wouldn’t hate, and he just kept driving. Once this song came on, Neil became enamored with it. It’s another one of those songs that makes him think of Andrew, but it’s more because he listens to the lyrics and realizes Andrew has said half of these things to him. It’s now a song that, even years later when he and Andrew are living in separate states and desperately trying to land contracts with the same team, Neil listens to on bad nights.

6. River - Bishop Briggs

Listen... this is just another really solid Andreil song.......... and I’m absolutely positive this is a song that Neil would like. Let me have this.

For Neil everything with Andrew is simultaneously loud and quiet and intense and gentle and hard and soft. He’s never known someone to make him feel so much yet calm him down from panic to nothing so smoothly. Even their intimacy holds so much complexity and weight to it. This is a song I feel like Andrew introduced him to, because it absolutely makes him think of Neil too (not that he'd say that out loud).

8. Dreams - The Cranberries

Renee likes the Cranberries and she got Andrew into them too. Andrew pretends this song doesn’t make him think about Neil but no one is actually fooled by that when they catch him listening to it. Least of all Neil because he feels the same thing listening to the lyrics. Not much explanation past that. Neil vibes with this song right from the opening lyrics (”Oh, my life is changing every day in every possible way”), to the comparison of a lover to a dream (he still remembers when Andrew called him a pipedream, even if he didn’t understand at the time), to the vocal breaks in the middle and at the end where it just sounds like someone singing their soul right out of their body.

Neil is a private person and not someone to ever scream his love from rooftops. But that doesn’t mean the concept doesn’t hit him deep. He’s been through a lot and he’s come out the other end with a love of his own that’s deeper and more than anything he ever imagined. His lack of expressing passion about most things (Andrew) doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel incredibly passionate about certain things in a way that cuts deep. He found love and it’s incredible

12. Easily - Bruno Major

I've mentioned this previously, but I hc that Andrew and Neil almost broke up in Neil’s last year at Palmetto. Not going to get into it, but this song had a big part in pulling Neil through that whole year, ESPECIALLY the situation with Andrew. Maybe I’ll make a separate, more detailed post about that sometime. But basically I hc that neither of them were in good spots emotionally. And Andrew was very close to giving up on everything - including Neil.

They managed to pull through and stop one another from giving up on it all, even when things got really hard.

15. Sunlight - Hozier

No I’m not done with the Hozier songs. Did I say I was done with the Hozier songs? Not gonna happen.

Anyway so the story of this song is he was talking with Allison and Nicky once about music and their SOs (well he was listening more than talking but he wasn’t ignoring them), and Nicky outright asked him if there was a song that made him think of Andrew. He’d heard this one for the first time recently and it was just the most recent of many songs that make him think of Andrew, so he threw it out there to humor them. They hadn’t heard it but were very doubtful that any song titled “Sunlight” could have anything to do with Andrew at all, so he showed it to them. They didn’t really change their minds and instead Allison went on another tirade about how Neil is gone for Andrew in a way that Andrew couldn’t possibly be for him and how she was worried for him. Nicky stood up for his cousin a bit, but ultimately was still agreeing with Allison to a degree that Neil may be expecting more than what Andrew could give him blah, blah, blah.

Neil wasn’t happy. Instead he found himself latching onto this song even further and becoming even more assured that it was a song for Andrew. Just because the others refused to understand who Andrew really is and the ways he’s learning to grow and heal and the fact that he’s someone worth loving god dammit, doesn’t mean Andrew is the monster they make him out to be.

For a while afterwards, he’ll put this song on if he’s ever given the aux cord. Because he’s petty. If Andrew catches on to what he’s trying to do, he never says anything.

19. Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men

This is definitely a song that makes Neil think of Andrew, though he'd never tell him that. They have both played both parts in this song, and it makes Neil's heart ache to think of all the bad nights that they weren't there for one another - whether it was distance or stubbornness or just general shitty circumstance. They both can get so trapped in their own heads in different (and sometimes similar) ways, and they're relationship has really been built in a lot of ways on the depth of emotional support they've learned to give one another in rough times. That steadiness, that presence that stays by you and keeps you grounded even when you want to crawl out of your own skin and hide somewhere far away. That is what they give one another.

24. Day After Day - Badfinger

This is another one he used to listen to with his mother, but he didn't really latch onto it until his final year at Palmetto when he and Andrew were doing long-distance. He learned in that year just how sentimental he had become in some ways. He finds it in the bone-deep longing he gets on late nights when he just wishes he could lie in bed next to Andrew - because he knew that's when he sleeps best. He'd listen to this song and let himself wallow for a little while, and then eventually put it away and carry on because he didn't have the time to slow down and feel things too hard.

Things are much better now and he doesn't feel as bad when he listens to the song. It's just a pleasant sound he leans into sometimes.

26. Don't Dream It's Over - Crowded House

This is another one that he first heard from his mother, but kept for himself without allowing it to be stained with her memory. It is one of those ones he listened to a great deal during his last year when things with Andrew got hard. He committed himself to not letting him go or breaking off what they had unless Andrew ever directly asked him to. He couldn't find it in himself to ever do that.

This song reminds him of that commitment and helps him stay strong with it, for better or worse. Everyone was convinced from the beginning that either Neil was bad for Andrew (Aaron) or Andrew was bad for Neil (everyone else except Renee and Nicky basically). This reminds him that he knows Andrew better. He knows HIMSELF better. He knows they aren't perfect, but he refuses to let himself fall into their blocked mentality where they choose to be blind to the reality of Andrew's character (or his own for that matter). He knows they are good together. He knows they help one another, they don't hold each other back. And he refuses to give up on them unless Andrew asks him to.

28. How Deep Is Your Love - The Bird and The Bee

This is another final-year-at-Palmetto one. He stumbles across this song while listening to one of Robin's playlists while he was driving her to practice. Listen to the lyrics and hear just how Andreil this song is. It fits so well, and Neil has to pull over and collect himself for a moment when he first hears it. It had been an especially rough week and he'd been struggling trying to balance giving Andrew space and support with communicating his own needs. This gives him the push he needs. He calls him later that night to talk and their time apart starts getting a bit more bearable for it.

29. TALK ME DOWN - Troye Sivan

This was Andrew's song that made him think of Neil. In every way. He found it while they were doing long distance. Neil first heard it on a midnight drive they took while he was visiting Andrew. They didn't say anything, but they didn't need to. Neil eventually asked him why he listens to this one when his taste is usually much louder stuff. He was expecting a stoically-delivered joke denying any potential relation to Neil or a comment about how Nicky got it stuck in his head or something while they were video chatting one weekend. Instead, Andrew just responded "You know why."

Neil stored the song away to listen to later on when they were once again sleeping in separate beds in separate states, knowing Andrew was probably listening to it as well.

38. Talking Bird - Death Cab for Cutie

Neil doesn't know why this song makes him emotional (yes he does). He doesn't know what it is about it that feels like it cuts so deep (it's because Andrew sent it to him). He doesn't get why Andrew showed it to him (it's because Andrew asked him to stay, but would never force him to if he ever did decide to run). He just listens and feels comforted.

44. I'm so Tired - Lauv & Troye Sivan

This is another one Neil found when he and Andrew were doing long distance. It was a bit of a rocky time for them and there were several of those make-or-break moments. You know, the kind any relationship has where you either pull through it together and are stronger for it, or end things where they are and go your separate ways. I imagine - during a particularly rough patch - Neil heard this song from one of his underclassmen roommates. He was thinking about Andrew (when is he not) and part of him wondered if Andrew was better off finding guys in bars to take home and have no connection to. It was a spiteful moment of self-pity that he let himself indulge in before coming to his senses and giving Andrew a call to smooth things over a bit.

He still listens back to the song sometimes. It has a nice, soft, smooth feeling to it. Now when he listens to it, he finds himself focusing more on the singer asking their lover to take them home so they can move forward because they're too tired to fight. He remembers how, when he and Andrew have reached that point, they've continuously chosen to fall back to one another instead of pulling away. It's a very comforting thought for him.

45. NFWMB - Hozier

I don't even know if I have to explain this one.

There are a lot of things that Andrew and Neil see in one another, but I think one major thing is how strong they both are in their own ways. Neither of them are someone you want to fuck with. This song is perfect for that.

And, once again I will say, Neil is a Hozier fan and I'll die on this hill.

50. It Will Come Back - Hozier

Another Hozier song look at that

Anyway this is song encapsulates exactly how Andrew feels about Neil repeatedly choosing Andrew (at least, how he feels about it in the beginning of their relationship). And Neil isn't blind to this at all. What he also isn't blind to (but that he knows Andrew forgets sometimes) is how Neil is also the stray Andrew showed too much kindness. Andrew is as stuck with Neil as Neil is making himself stuck with Andrew.

51. Love Lies - Khalid & Normani

If asked why he likes this song, he'd say it's because Matt showed it to him and it reminds him of Matt and Dan's inspiring relationship. There are very few people he'd admit the truth to.

Something about the song feels too typical and approachable to admit applying to him and Andrew. They don't have a "normal" relationship and there are a lot of norms they don't stick to. Neither of them are ashamed of that in any capacity (as they absolutely shouldn't be), and ultimately it just feels very strange to them both to consider what's between them as being on the same level of what other's have. Not necessarily in a better-worse context, more just an acknowledgment of stark differences.

But I think Neil also experiences a certain level of comfort when he catches himself relating to other "normal" people. So when he finds himself thinking of Andrew when he hears this song, he's not going to ignore that or let it go. He may, however, keep it to himself for a while. It just feels nice to do that.

72. 99 Luftballons - Nena

As a general rule, Neil doesn't like loud music. This one is an exception (though "loud" may be a bit of a stretch here) because he once got to hear Andrew singing along to it in the car late at night.

Andrew does that sometimes, sings along to songs when it's just him and Neil. It's never with a great deal of gusto or volume, more so just a soft mumble on a late night drive to ground them both. This song came on on a particularly rough night, but by the end of it Andrew was singing along louder than he ever did. Still not saying much, but it was a noticeable change to Neil.

Neil knows he was allowed to see something special that night - Andrew allowing himself to let out something he was feeling. Neil got to see Andrew in what amounts to a moment of vulnerability for him. It means the world to him.

74. Gooey - Glass Animals

This song makes Neil feel the way Andrew makes him feel. There's no other way to describe it. When it's just the two of them and they have moments of quiet intimacy, there's a specific feeling Neil starts getting - float-y but secure. Like he'd drift away if it weren't for an invisible string Andrew was holding.

If Andrew caught Neil humming this song one night as he fell asleep, unaware, he kept quiet about it.

75. Turn - The Wombats

This song Neil keeps because it's one Andrew specifically sent him. He didn't give an explanation, just "for your playlist, rabbit".

[raleighcarrera]

limits

the wayhaven chronicles | mason x mc (kira langford)

mason has a realization.

m tag list: @raleighcarrera @choicesarehard @tkyoon @zigtheeortega 💕

~5.6k words | M (18+)

the thing about fucking her is that one time is supposed to be enough.

it’s not like he’s got a rule or anything -- he doesn’t. sure, most of his flings are just that: one night stands he can fade away from gracefully, who understand what he’s about and take what they can get.

necessity or scarcity means that he’ll occasionally come back for seconds or thirds, and maybe he can convince himself that’s the case, here. wayhaven is a small town, with few prospects, and he spends so much time with kira anyway. maybe it’s just the reality of the situation -- the assignment -- that has him double-dipping.

it’s not, though.

it’s her. usually, even a spectacular fuck only lingers in his mind for so long. there’s no use dwelling when there’s always the next partner, a new chase or some other way to spend his time on the horizon.

but the detective stays in his memories after he sleeps with her. he finds himself thinking about it a lot more than he usually would, replaying the way she’d felt under his hands and the sounds she’d made in an almost absentminded way, so that he’s remembering it even when he’s not jerking off. even when he’s not trying to get back into her pants again. 

nothing much changes, after they start sleeping together. he continues to hit on her in an overt way and everyone around them starts to catch on to the fact that what’s between them is more than just words. 

kira lets him touch her in the woods, in her car, at the carnival, in her bedroom, at the warehouse. even in the common spaces. even in the kitchen.

surely if once wasn’t enough, then twelve times should be, right?

but it’s not. she remains a persistent distraction in meetings, on patrols and just about any time he’s supposed to be doing something other than fucking her speechless. which gets to be kind of annoying.

and he doesn’t pursue anyone else. but that’s not new, either.

so -- the warehouse feels a little different when he knows she’s on her way over. he can’t quite pinpoint exactly what it is, but there’s suddenly purpose in the day when kira’s coming by for a briefing or a meeting -- something he never felt on any of the other assignments he had.

“what’s got you so excited?” felix asks, looking pointedly at his tapping foot, a grin spreading across his face. 

mason stares blankly back at him. “i look excited to you?”

“well, you’re not scowling, which is about as close to happy as you get.”

his lip curls with a sneer, but felix just laughs at him. nate turns around, looking equally as amused. “do i need to separate you two?”

mason’s already diverted his attention to something else -- the sound of footsteps in the hallway, the familiar subtleties of kira’s heartbeat. as nonchalantly as he can manage, he slips from his seat on the couch to the arm of it, freeing up the space he’d been sitting in.

she smiles at all of them and the room feels a little brighter for it. felix waves her over from the other end of the couch, but when she sits down, it’s at mason’s end instead of toward the center. her shoulder bumps into his leg as she drops into the seat he’d been occupying just moments ago.

mason bumps her deliberately back. “watch it.”

the detective turns her smile on him. “hi,” she says, her proximity softening some of the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders.

everything that had felt so annoying before her arrival slowly starts to fade into nothing. not a minor annoyance -- nothing. his brow furrows with deep confusion; since when had she become so relaxing? “hey.”

agent langford clears her throat and starts passing out folders. mason startles, reaching for his more roughly than is strictly necessary. he hadn’t even realized she was there.

“here are the details on your new case. there’s been a series of kidnappings and robberies in town we want you to investigate. so far there’s no discernible pattern -- victims range in age from fourteen to eighty.”

kira hums, her eyes scanning the brief inside the folder. when she opens her mouth to speak he can tell she’s just had a coffee. “what makes you think our perp is supernatural?”

“all victims we were able to make contact with were injected with a very specific paralytic. our lab analyzed blood samples and discovered traces of fae venom in the toxins. those that were kidnapped turned up similar results at the crime scenes.”

kira grins. “like pixie dust?”

rebecca’s lips twitch with a barely suppressed smile. “something like that. i want you to split up and visit each of the crime scenes today. try to find something to link them together so we can predict the next target. let me know what you turn up.”

adam stands in front of them all as she departs, frowning down at the file in his hands. “i’ll take the office building. nate, you and felix visit the high school. mason, you and kira can take the church.”

felix laughs. “is mason even allowed inside a church?”

“come on,” nate grins, already heading for the door, “as much as i’d love to see him handle the high school...”

when he looks back at kira, her lips are pursed to stifle a smile. he sighs at her, shifting to stand. “don’t take their side.”

“hey, they have a point.” she squints into the sun as they step outside, then asks, “are you alright with walking? it’s not that far from here.”

“sure.” for once, it isn’t freezing in this useless town, and it might be nice to take their time. plus, “we won’t have to risk getting stuck somewhere in that trash heap you call a car.”

the detective laughs. “you wish we’d get stuck in my car together.”

“well, i can definitely think of one way to pass the time if we did,” he smirks, tapping his fingers on the sides of his jeans as they itch for a cigarette. she shakes her head at him.

his eyes drift down to her ass as she leads the way down the street. the jeans she’s wearing seem like an unfair tease, even though they’re more or less the same thing she wears every day. but they do make him suddenly aware of the fact that it’s been a couple days since they’ve had time to sneak off together.

mason clears his throat. “been awhile since you spent the night at the warehouse,” he says casually, “you could stay over tonight.”

the ghost of a smile appears on her face, the look in her eyes making it obvious she knows what he’s talking about, even though she plays dumb. “why? it’ll be early enough when we get done here.”

he licks his lips. “you know why.”

her footsteps slow to a stop, and he blinks as he realizes they’re already at the church. there’s crime scene tape in front of the steps, and kira reaches out to hold it up for him to duck under with an expectant nod. “come on.”

he waits for her to stand next to him before they walk inside, in tandem, closer together than they probably need to be. immediately, the smell of dust and incense permeate his senses and he wrinkles his nose, sighing as he starts to glance around for anything amiss. “remind me what we’re looking for, again?”

“clues,” kira says obnoxiously, grinning over her shoulder at him. she moves away to walk down the left aisle of pews and the annoying church smell worsens, giving him a headache. he changes course to follow her instead of walking down the right side on his own.

it looks like... a church. he’d had a hunch this visit was going to be a waste of time before they’d even left to come here, but now that he’s seen what they’re working with he’s pretty positive he’d been right. “there’s nothing here.”

“do you always have to be so negative?” she asks, her voice hushed. it’s then that he realizes he’s close enough to hear her perfectly, anyway, and backs off a little, maintaining a more respectful distance behind her. though he does find his eyes glued to her ass again.

“it’s part of my charm.” the little scoff she gives in return makes his lips twitch, and he leans back against the pew in the front row as she steps up to the alter, her eyes narrowed on the artifacts -- props? -- strewn across the table.

he’s content just to watch her work. kira’s methodical as she walks slowly across the church, her brow furrowed and her lips frowning. it only takes her a few minutes before she sighs and admits, “i don’t see anything.”

“i told you.” she crosses the room to be closer to him again, and he can feel his grin return once she’s within reaching distance. his fingers find the belt loops of her jeans and tug her hips forward. “doesn’t mean we have to let this empty room go to waste, though.”

her eyebrows arch. “this is a church.”

“so?” his gaze is heated as it slides down her body pointedly. he maneuvers her into the pew, then drops to his knees in front of her. “maybe i’m taking up praying.”

she laughs, but when he looks up at her she’s biting her bottom lip, and he can read desire in the way her pupils dilate -- in the way the lightest flush spreads out across her face.

“okay,” she grins, “go for it.”

he’s never been religious, but there’s something about the sounds she makes when he eats her out that make her seem like a goddess he’d have no trouble worshipping. she threads her fingers into his hair and pulls, and he isn’t satisfied until she’s had too much and starts pushing his face away with a whine.

the sun’s low in the sky when he stands, and though his dick is straining at the front of his jeans, begging for relief, he knows they’re expected back at the warehouse. they’ll be the last to arrive as it is.

he grabs kira’s hand when she reaches for his zipper and helps her up, too. “later,” he says, shaking his head. his free hand travels up to his mouth, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth to clean it off. the way she shivers makes his smirk widen dangerously. “stay over.”

“sure,” she agrees, reaching up to smooth down her hair. he knows she’s probably hoping to keep what happens between them private, but there’s no way the rest of the team won’t know exactly what they’d been caught up doing as soon as they get back to the warehouse, especially with that look on her face.

as expected, she shifts back and forth on her feet obviously when they convene in the meeting room and adam says, “so you searched the church... for three hours. and didn’t find anything?” his voice is slow, like he’s working up to an explosion.

mason shrugs. “yep.”

even nate is eyeing them with disapproval, but behind him, felix is grinning like a kid on christmas morning. mason glares at him.

the detective clears her throat. “did you guys find anything?”

adam’s jaw clenches before he responds. “no. the rest of the employees had already cleaned up the office building.”

nate pulls his pinched look of disappointment away and confirms, “the high school was empty as well.”

kira nods like everyone in the room isn’t staring at her. “tomorrow we should speak with some of the surviving victims. i’ll stay over tonight so we can be ready to go first thing in the morning.”

six eyes snap to mason to stare at him instead. “sounds good to me,” he answers, unfazed, “later.”

he turns and leaves without a backward glance, though he can hear felix teasing kira even when he rounds the corner and heads down the hallway to his room. the sound of her voice is unusually loud to him, until he shuts the door and makes a point of ignoring it. he’s sure he doesn’t want to hear whatever stupid shit they’re talking about anyway.

it’s over an hour before her familiar heartbeat tap dances back into his ears. he’s just starting to get annoyed, waiting for her, when she opens the door and slips inside without knocking, her steps purposefully light. she doesn’t want anyone else to know she’s here.

he lifts his head from the pillows where he’d been laying in bed and smirks at her. “you sure took your time.”

“i was talking to nate about the case,” she answers, taking a few measured strides closer. “why, did you miss me?”

“i miss being inside of you,” he says, standing so he can have the physical advantage over her, using the full breadth of his body to back her into the wall, “or did you forget you left me with blue balls back there?”

kira tilts her head back against the wall, smiling at him. “i don’t think you’d ever let me forget that.”

he’s already unbuttoning her jeans, eager to get to her bare skin. “you’re right about that one. but there’s a few other things i’d be happy to make you forget.”

they only get undressed halfway; she’s seemingly just as eager as he is to get to the good part, and even after they’re done and she’s shifting her clothes back into place, her moans still rattle around inside his ears, the sound of her voice when she’d said his name echoing through his head.

mason reaches up to swipe his hair out of his eyes, grinning at the way kira wobbles a little unsteadily on her feet when he steps away. “need me to carry you back to your room, sweetheart?”

she’d been eyeing his bed, but turns back to him, then. her mouth twists into a frown that’s all wrong on her face. “i think i can manage.”

she straightens up and moves toward the door. something seems to have shifted in the air between them, the mood from before suddenly gone in favor of something colder. his brow furrows at her back, and he opens his mouth to call out to her before thinking better of it, only letting his gaze linger on the line of her spine.

kira hesitates, but when he doesn’t speak up, she opens the door and leaves.

so much for the afterglow. an annoyance he can’t place fills him abruptly, made worse by the fact that her room isn’t far enough away for him to tune out the sound of her -- he’s hyperaware of her as she gets changed, paces around in her room, does something on her phone and then ultimately gets into bed.

a cigarette would dull his senses. she’s not here now to complain, so he could have one, but then he’d miss out on the sound of her breathing as it slowly evens out and she eventually falls asleep.

and he doesn’t want that.

mason loses track of time once there’s complete silence surrounding him. late at night, there’s hardly any activity in this part of the warehouse, and knowing that kira is around -- hearing her heartbeat whenever he wants -- is comforting in some weird, unidentifiable way, despite how fucking loud it seems. 

except that at some point her even breathing turns ragged, quickening like she’s panicked. he slowly sits up in bed as he hears her gasp, squinting into the darkness of his room suspiciously. she still sounds like she’s alone, but she’s undeniably afraid, tossing and turning and whimpering --

it all stops abruptly, and he realizes what it is when her door opens and then slams shut. he stands, walking to the door and listening silently. he can picture her out there as her back hits the door and slides down, a shaky exhale trailing off into deep breaths that are a little calmer, now. 

he should leave her alone.

except his fingers twist the door knob before he can stop them, and he steps out into the hallway to look at her. she’s exactly where he’d imagined her, slumped on the floor against the door of her bedroom with her head in her hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath.

“hey.” her head jerks up and she startles, like she’s surprised to see him there. that’s fair. he’s surprised, too. mason leans against the doorjamb, folding his arms across his bare chest. “another nightmare?”

she swallows, averting her eyes. he watches her push her fingers through her long, dark hair, and then she nods, staring off down the hallway. “yeah.”

nate or felix would know the right thing to say to her. he does not. “haven’t you gotten used to those by now?”

kira turns her cheek and her eyes find his in the dim light of the hallway. he can tell instantly that he’s said something stupid, and frowns at her when he notices just how tired she looks. she scrambles to her feet and snaps, “forget it.”

the detective storms off down the hallway and disappears out of sight before he can say another word. annoyance spikes once he’s alone in the hallway, and he sighs heavily when the door to one of the common areas opens and then slams shut.

something within him feels drawn to following her. there’s an instinct he doesn’t recognize telling him to go to the lounge and sit with her until she feels as calm as he does when she sits with him. 

his fists clench as the door to nate’s room opens and he pokes his head out into the hallway, too. nate stares at him, and then quietly asks, “are you alright?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” he growls, quickly ducking back into his own room and slamming his door closed, too. 

he stares at the ceiling for hours waiting for the sound of her footsteps to come back down the hallway again. at dawn, he finally hears the hinges of her door creak, and something tight in his chest loosens slowly, letting him relax.

kira still looks exhausted when they all reconvene an hour later. she and felix are together on the couch again, though he’s sitting closer to her this time, concern in his eyes as they talk quietly, their heads bowed together. 

he sits on the arm of the sofa and pretends not to notice the way they stop talking as soon as he does so. “morning,” felix smiles at him, though he barely nods back, staring at the way kira’s gone tense where she’s sitting. 

she only waits a minute before getting up, crossing the room to get herself a cup of coffee. she stands there stirring it for a long time before slowly sitting down in one of the empty armchairs next to nate. 

mason stares at her from across the room. there’s an empty chair on the other side of her, but it’s not like he can get up now, without a reason. annoyance fills him as he watches her pretend not to notice the way he’s staring at her; kira sips her coffee and chats with nate and looks at her fingernails and her shoes. she acts like he isn’t even there.

adam and agent langford walk in together, but he misses most of what they say, inexplicable displeasure settling inside him. he only snaps back to attention when he hears the detective say, “adam, you’re with me,” and watches, in surprise, as they leave the lounge together, something unpleasant twisting in his stomach.

there’s a long stretch of silence before agent langford says, “the three of you should go question some of the high schoolers. the rest of the debate team was around when sarah was kidnapped. maybe one of them saw something.”

working with nate and felix should be easy. it’s familiar enough to him. 

except that he’s spent most of the last few months alone with kira, and it’s odd to know that adam’s with her, now, working the angle he’d usually occupy.

“stop sulking,” felix directs, nudging him with his shoulder, “just because we’re not as pretty as kira --”

“i’m not sulking,” he bites back, “i don’t give a shit who she investigates with.”

“uh huh,” felix says, his disbelief obvious, “right.”

“i don’t,” he insists, “so shut up before i --”

“please,” nate sighs, “can we save it for later? it’s taxing enough talking to high schoolers as it is.”

he falls silent, glowering at nothing. everything is heightened in an unwelcome way and even his irritation feels dialed up to a new level. he pulls a cigarette out as soon as they stop on the sidewalk outside of the school, and pointedly turns his back on nate and felix when they head inside without him.

mason leans against a street sign and stares out at nothing, scuffing the toes of his boots against the curb. no one’s checking up on him like kira would be if she were here, and the silence is strange. time drags on at a glacial pace without her to check out or whistle at or snipe back and forth with. 

he isn’t exactly great at reading her, but he’s pretty sure she’s pissed off at him. that’s not new -- he’s annoyed her plenty since they first met, and probably said a lot worse than whatever had made her so upset this time -- but the way it unsettles him is. if he had to explain it, something just doesn’t feel... right. 

shaking the odd feeling out of his head, he smokes the rest of the cigarettes in his pocket waiting for nate and felix to return. they don’t look particularly happy when they do.

“find anything?” he asks, because he’s probably supposed to care about that.

“sarah’s teammates recall seeing a blue light when she was kidnapped,” nate answers, frowning. “but the way they described it...”

felix shrugs. “wouldn’t make sense for it to be fae. so either the lab got something wrong, or we have no idea what we’re dealing with.”

“great.” his thoughts drift to adam and kira without conscious effort. 

“hopefully kira had better luck,” nate sighs. “we’ll wait for them at the warehouse.”

except that it takes hours for them to return. the minutes continue to tick by agonizingly slowly, until he’s pacing in the lounge, fidgety and tense. 

“seriously?” felix asks as he lights up yet another cigarette, pulled from the emergency stash under his bed, “i’m sure they’re fine.”

“what?” his voice is a growl, his eyes set into a glare. he’s not worried about them. he’s annoyed they’re wasting so much of his time. the sooner they debrief on their progress for the day, the sooner he can get out of here.

“leave him alone,” nate directs to felix over his shoulder, “they had some kind of fight.”

“we didn’t have a fight,” he snarls, his annoyance building further, “and i don’t know what you’re talking about. i’m not doing anything.”

they exchange a glance right in front of him. fortunately, the sound of footsteps reaches his ears before he can argue with them further, though he’s forced to frown when her heartbeat follows the squeak of her shoes on the tile, a little faster than it should be. he puts out his cigarette and tosses it into the trash.

she looks normal enough when they enter the room. that it’s not immediately identifiable why her pulse is racing deepens his scowl. his gaze shifts to adam uneasily.

he seems to misread why mason’s looking at him. “we didn’t get much of a lead. our victim doesn’t remember anything that happened to him.”

kira sits down in one of the chairs across the room from him again and actually pays attention to whatever nate and felix are saying, doubtlessly filling her in on what they’d found out at the school. he skulks silently in the dark corner of the room, tuning them all out in favor of waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal.

it doesn’t, though, even when she stands to leave, grabbing her purse. he shifts to his feet in turn before he even realizes he’s doing it, and though kira looks surprised, she meets his eyes and asks, “walk me to my car?”

mason smirks at her, licking his lips. he nods, and doesn’t look at the rest of the team as they leave the warehouse, stepping outside. “it’s been a minute since we made use of that backseat,” he grins, the persistent, low-level hum of annoyance and unease he’d felt all day starting to fade away into nothing. 

he doesn’t even notice how quiet she’s being until they reach her car and she stops him when he moves to grab the door handle to the backseat, curling her fingers around his wrist. “actually --” he turns, and finds her staring out into the woods beyond his shoulder, looking at nothing. “about that.”

kira’s heartbeat is still too fast. her hand drops from his wrist and his falls back to his side, away from the car door. she finally turns and catches his eye. “when we started doing this you said it’d be fun for both of us. but it’s not fun for both of us anymore.”

mason stares at her in confusion as she rocks back on her heels, putting some space between them. “what?”

“i just --”

“it sure seemed like you were having fun yesterday.” what the fuck is she talking about?

“i was,” she agrees gently, “it’s not about that. of course i enjoy that. it’s everything else.”

“there isn’t anything else,” he bites out, voice filled with obvious frustration. 

“right. that’s what i’m saying.” she’s looking at him like he’s supposed to know what she’s talking about. he stares back at her in silence for a long time.

mason shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, dragging his tongue along his teeth. he sure hadn’t expected this when he’d followed her out here. “well, when you change your mind you know where to find me, sweetheart.” 

he walks back inside without looking at her, trying to put a name to the strange feeling swelling inside him. if he’s ever felt it before, he can’t recall when or why, but that it might be something new seems even more unsettling.

the rest of the team is waiting for him in the lounge when he returns. “what?” he demands, glaring at each of them in turn. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“i told you i didn’t want to have to clean up your mess,” adam sighs, his face pinched. mason bristles.

“there’s no mess. it’s not a big deal.”

nate glances at adam and then looks over at him. “it’s just that kira seemed -- upset. adam said she wasn’t like herself today.”

“well, we’re officially not fucking anymore, so i guess you don’t have to worry about it,” he bites out, reaching for his cigarettes where he’d left them on the table. it’s not like anyone’s around to tell him no.

“woah,” felix says, frowning over at him, “what? are you okay?”

he snorts. “like i care.” smoke billows in front of his face, obscuring the rest of the team from his view. when it clears, he sees that they’re all staring at him again. “what?”

“you know you can talk to us if you want to, right?” nate’s eyes look concerned. “we’re here for you no matter what.”

mason glances off with a shrug. “i know. but there’s nothing to talk about.” he pauses, inhaling deeply. smoke fills his lungs slowly, and that irritatingly unwelcome feeling starts to dissipate. “come get me if there’s any updates with the case.”

he goes up to the roof because his room still kind of smells like her, if he concentrates, and he doesn’t want to be tempted into concentrating. 

alone, he finally lets himself consider something he’s been putting off thinking about. the complicated parts.

she’d wanted those. and he said no.

that strange feeling starts to twist his stomach again. as he stares off into the sky, unseeing, it eventually starts to take a recognizable shape.

those two months they’d spent setting up the warehouse, when he hadn’t seen her at all -- he’d felt like this then. he remembers it and its strange ache with stunning clarity. 

he misses her. that’s what it is. he fucking misses her.

that’s never happened before.

he blinks, stunned by the revelation. “huh.”

slowly, it all starts to make sense. the way he feels better when they’re near each other -- how he’s always looking for her in any room, whenever he can -- 

unbelievable. he likes her. 

numbly, he finishes his cigarette and ducks back inside. his feet carry him back to the lounge like he’s sleep walking.

“oh, good,” nate says when he sees him, sounding pleased. mason can feel the way the expression on his face is still puzzled, his brows drawn together in complete confusion. “you figured it out.”

his head snaps up. “what?”

“the detective,” nate prompts, looking at him expectantly. “right?”

mason pushes a hand through his hair. it’s difficult to place -- almost impossible. he’s a hundred years old and he’s never felt like this before. “maybe there’s something else,” he admits begrudgingly, the words stilted. “besides the obvious.”

felix is practically vibrating from his position on the couch. “okay, you need to go over there,” he exclaims, his eyes wide, his smile stretching his face. “and tell her right away! seriously.”

he cringes. “just show up at her apartment?”

“yes,” felix insists emphatically, “you have to tell her right now.”

ugh. but he’s already told everyone here -- isn’t that enough? he looks at nate.

“i think she’d like that,” he says, which is the opposite of what mason was hoping for. he sighs, running his fingers through his hair again.

“are you sure?” 

felix opens his mouth, but nate leans in first. “only if you want to.”

well. he does miss her. he knows that now. 

still, he hesitates. there’s silence in the room until felix makes a strangled sound of impatience, and they all turn to glare at him again. “stop it,” nate scolds, “be patient with him, he’s having a crisis.”

“okay -- i’m going,” he announces decisively. from the couch, felix crows with victory, clutching his chest when he falls back against the cushions.

“love,” he sighs dramatically, “it’s so beautiful.”

mason looks at nate. “make sure he’s not doing that when i get back.”

“no promises,” nate answers, and he can hear them bickering distantly as he heads for the door and then kira’s apartment, as quickly as he can -- before he has time to change his mind.

he feels strange again when he knocks on her door and waits for her to open up. almost like he’s injured, somehow, a little weak and confused. well -- he is knocking. that on its own is strange.

she’s already in her pajamas when she opens the door and frowns at him. “mason?” she steps aside to let him in, seemingly unaware of how frantic and panicked he is. mostly it seems like she, too, is confused by the knocking. “what’re you doing here? is everything alright?”

“uhhhhh.” great. he’s a moron. how is he supposed to start? “well -- i was thinking.”

“dangerous, for you,” she quips, doing something funny to his stomach again. oh, holy fucking christ. he knows what that is. that’s fondness. he’s fond of her.

he turns his head and holds her gaze steady, ignoring, for the first time ever, the heat that forms between them. that’s not what he’s after. “i was thinking about the complicated parts.”

kira doesn’t say a word, but his eyes zero in on the straight line of her teeth where they bite at her full bottom lip. her body language is otherwise frustratingly difficult to read.

“maybe i want them -- out there. with you.”

anyone else wouldn’t be able to hear the tiny hitch in her breath when she inhales, but he does.

“do you?” 

he nods. there’s silence again, but just for a moment -- he only has a split second to figure he’s just fucked up in a major way before her face transforms with a beautiful smile.

“i want that, too.” the softness he used to turn away from is back in her eyes, again, but this time, he holds her gaze. “i care about you. a lot.”

there’s something about hearing her confirm, out loud, what he’d already sort of known. a million little things click into place at once, unlocking something inside of him. it feels like he’s had dozens of puzzle pieces waiting around for this moment -- pieces he’s only now able to put together. “yeah. me, too. i just didn’t know what it was. but now i do.”

her smile turns a little more private, and it’s all the more beautiful for that. “just like that?”

he shrugs. “you leaving today flipped a switch. i hated it.”

worse than that -- felix and nate were right. she’s obviously unbelievably pleased to have him in her apartment, saying shit like that to her. her whole face is lit up with joy.

“you could’ve just talked to me about it.” he arches an eyebrow at her and is rewarded with her laughter. “yeah -- i heard it as i was saying it. okay, fair enough.”

“look.” further delight blooms across her expression as he steps closer, closing the distance between them. “you’re going to have to get used to all of this, okay?”

“oh, yeah?” 

he loves the way she has to tilt her head all the way back to look at him when he gets too close. 

how could he ever think that any amount of time spent together would ever be enough?

“yeah,” he confirms, leaning down to close the distance their height difference creates between them, “because now -- i’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

[lightneverfades]

Tehee! The Frostiron Holiday Wishes challenge ❆ is officially closed for submissions, and OPEN FOR CLAIMS! 🎅🎄 (Wishlist)

Sorry for the delay in posting the wishlist! And thank you so much to everyone who’s submitted prompts! :D ♥ ♥ ♥ 

For those not aware of the challenge, you can see what it it’s all about in the original post here! :)

*** This post was last updated: 12/8/2020 ***

Rules for Claiming a ‘Wish’

❆ Artists can claim as many ‘wishes’ (idea/prompt) as they want and fill them (as all prompts are not designated to a specific artist)!

After you’ve picked up a ‘Wish’ to Fill 

❆ Please be sure to contact me (lightneverfades) via message which one you chose! ❆ When you finish creating the artwork for the wish (ideally before Dec 24), please be sure to send me the art/fic/etc you’ve made! (If you need help sending it to me, let me know and I’ll help!)  ❆ I know you might be excited, but the surprise is what makes this fun, so please keep your artwork a secret until Dec 24 & 25!

❆ On Dec 24 & 25 (Christmas Eve and Christmas Day!) 🎅🎄, I will post a MASTER POST including links/photos/etc of all the artwork/completed fills received for the prompts below! :)

Types of Fills ✨

❆ Any type of fan works is allowed - That means fan fics, fan art (drawings, digital graphics), fan videos and fan mixes!

Note: *= Anything with this means I couldn’t directly tag the user’s name. (Please contact me and I will edit it so that it works!)

FAQ ✨

Q: Is there a word limit?  A: Nope, there is no word limit! ;) Although it will be ideal if the fic in general is a complete work! 

Without further ado, here are the wishes received for the challenge! ♥

Requester: @kimmycup​  Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Invasion fic where Tony figures out Loki was mind controlled before Loki does: "But I WAS in control. Thanos didn't control me like I did Clint." "Yeah sure. And if you wanted to take over the world, what would you do?" Loki spluttered, fully aware that plan was dumb. Still, he would KNOW if he were controlled... Right? "But I wasn't mind controlled! It was me!"

Requester: @kimmycup​ Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki in Tony's MIT sweatshirt.

Requester: @worstloki​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: nothing nsfw please >:) Wish (Prompt/Idea): Tony and Loki both having panic attacks at the same time. just make it wild. whatever the reasons are, maybe it's the same reason? maybe they have shared triggers? maybe it's separate reasons? maybe the other avengers are around and don't realize the incoming attacks and keep bringing up bad memories? maybe one of them notices the other is freaking out and defends them? maybe drags them away only to also start having a panic attack? whatever. they're both freaking out and just kinda do that. they then bond over it. (this can be crack or angsty I don't mind)

Requester: Nivael * Rating: E (Explicit) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): I’d always had that idea in my head, that Loki somehow took notice of Tony during the events of Thor 1, when he was on earth/watched Thor on earth.He fell in love with the mortal that was at the same time so different yet similar to him. So when he fell from the Rainbow bridge and into Thanos’ hands he planned to sabotage earths invasion from the very start to save Tony. Fast forward to at least after the end of Thor 2, (when Loki takes Odin’s place in the MCU) Loki escapes to earth after Thor thinks he’s been killed by the dark elves. He knows Thanos won’t rest until the infinity stones are his and the earth is still in danger. So he watches Tony to keep him save. With all the self hatred and lack of self esteem he harbors, he does not plan to actually act on his feelings, because he does not think he could be worthy of Tony. Plus, he invaded earth, caused lots of casualties, he’s an ugly Frost giant and the god of lies...so... yeah. He cannot think of one reason why Tony could be interested in him.But his feelings draw him to Stark and one day while following him, Loki gets careless and Tony discovers him. (Maybe Loki even discreetly intervenes a few times when Tony is in danger and Tony doesn’t notice until one day he does...?). So Stark confronts him and bit by bit (because Loki is not very cooperative and the least he wants is for Tony to discover his "ugly" emotional secret) he uncovers the truth about Thanos, the invasion and how Loki feels for him. I can imagine Loki to react ashamed, dismissive and maybe aggressive when Tony finally finds out. Tony, not being stupid, already suspected something to be fishy about the invasion. With how much Thor told him about Lokis wit and cleverness, he finds it hard to believe that Loki would make so many obvious mistakes. But now that he knows, all makes sense.Loki still watches over Tony, but keeps his distance. Until one day he saves Tonys life during a (random) attack and gets badly injured. With Lokis life on the line Stark realizes he has feelings for Loki and he takes him in to take care of his wounds. Healing takes some time so the two have plenty of time to get to know each other and deepen their feelings. Smut may follow :D (Oh... I am SO SORRY this became so much. God, it is too much, isn’t it? And sorry for my english o.o)

Requester: Nivael * Rating: E (Explicit) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki and Tony are in an established relationship. Things go great, but Loki is still unaccepting of his Jotun heritage and body. While Tony is completely fascinated by it, partly because Loki tries to hide it so hard. So he gets a fancy magical gadget from Strange (amulet, bracelet,...?) to be able to avoid frostbite so he can touch Loki even when he's in his Jotun form. Then there will be smut! :D

Requester: @brianadoesart​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): MERMAIDS. I like mermaids. Either a fic or art, but I just want more content of mer-Loki or mer-Tony.   I always enjoy versions where Loki is an underwater prince who falls in love with a stupid human inventor by the name of Tony. He's never been 100% happy in the palace with Thor and the others, so he often would go to the shore to watch the humans. He sees Tony working on the beach one day and becomes interested in him from there on. Basically a little mermaid type thing... I am easy to please. I just like mermaids.

Requester: @brianadoesart​ Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): A.... Among Us au.......  Impostor Loki protecting his crewmate friend Tony from the other impostors.... I..... Tony and Loki as Among Us beans...

Requester: @arandomsewer​   Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: Mentions of trauma and past abuse and racism, maybe sex? Just some drama and comfort Wish (Prompt/Idea): I just want him to live on and being supported by his Friends and his brother recognizing him, that's basically the prompt. Tho here's the details of the Idea I had: Loki is living at the tower with the others (of course) too proud to say out loud how much he likes life on earth... The usual.Something happens and suddenly the magic that made him look Asgardian is just not working anymore. Understandably, he freaks out. Im talking hides in his room, crying, anger, hate, on himself and others... The whole lot, he just throws a major fit.The others know him and kind of understand and are patient... But it’s not getting fixed. Days pass, and he's stuck like this. After a while Tony snaps him out of It, and he slowly calms down and starts learning to accept this side of himself. It’s specially strange to him how he can just walk in a room and no one treats him different. How the others are even fascinated by this form. I expect Thor being shocked and curious and snapped at and reminded how he (and his people on general) have been unfair to Loki... And of course, there's the romance with Tony, Who loves him in all his forms (and they fit together 'cause he's kinky and Loki a shapeshifter)Also imagine Loki being terrified of touching Tony and then finding out he's cold to the touch but not actually dangerous (my headcanon: he's the son of Hella. Half giant and half Asgardian, and the actual heir... But that's for another fic)

Requester: @brianadoesart​​ Rating: G (General audience)   Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Tony has been living alone for so long that Pepper and Rhodey decide to find him a roommate. They've tried living with him themselves, but they're both so busy it didn't really help Tony's loneliness. So they put out an ad for someone who specifically works from home. Choosing to keep it secret WHO they need a roommate for, they get some applicants, but not the crazy amount they normally would. Rhodey and Pepper go through all the applicants, even meet with them, and they choose a nice, smart author named Loki. He's the perfect candidate- he's even excited by the idea that his new roommate has no idea he's even GETTING a roommate. He finds it funny. They introduce Loki and Tony and sit back and watch everything unfold. Obviously it ends up with Tony and Loki falling for each other in the end, but seeing the shenanigans of them trying to cohabitate would be hilarious. Just watching them learn each other and begin to care about each other. I would like to see it.

Requester: @brianadoesart​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Cupcake shop au!!!  One of our boys owns a cupcake shop and the other one is a FREQUENT visitor to said coffee shop. Lots of people think its because they have a sweet tooth, but they're just hopelessly in love with whichever one owns the shop.

Requester: @loufeysson​​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Hi! my prompt is teenage Tony and android Loki in a futuristic universe (in the style of Black Mirror, maybe?) 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 Thank you!

Requester: @blancoluna​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: CRACK, haha Wish (Prompt/Idea): Basically Friga wonders where she went wrong, asks the Oracle and goes on a guilt trip realizing she messed up to Valhalla and back. The idea is, being a queen-godess of family, she should be able to do something about it, maybe traveling in time or something... And Loki's gonna need powerful allies and Friends, like the Avengers, for example Now the same, but with detail. This is the way I imagined It. Perhaps it’s too much drama? I just don't know how to tackle It or how to go from here:After everything that happened, Frigga wonders where she went wrong, not just with Loki, but with Thor who didn't appreciate his brother, Odín, who treated him unfairly and even the servants, Who didn't respect him.She wonders if she could have done anything, and the guilt wont let her sleep until she goes to the well of wisdom, the Oracle, to seek answers.She is warned the truth may be even more painful. She may not like the answer... But she goes in.It is way worse than she thought: in one second she is reminded of all the times she should have acted, and chose not to, and she sees how It affected her family.She could and should have done something, and she had plenty of time, but at every chance she chose not to. And its perhaps worse than what Odin did because she knew It was wrong but chose to do nothing about It.But even more: It is confirmed to her that not only Odín never gave Loki a chance: he didn't find him. He stole him from the temple where he was guarded. He is not just the son of Louffey, but also of Hella, and thus, the actual heir to the throne of Asgard.She was supposed to be the godess of family, and here she was, consumed by guilt and shame, by having followed blindly a King Who abused her children and betrayed his own heir, aside from many other crimes.But Frigga can't just spend the test of eternity crying. She must do something. She was raised by witches!!Will she manage to get her hands on the time Stone? Or Will she just travel to another dimension to warn a younger version of herself? Will this be the beginning of a new multiverse? The possibilities are endless, when the godess of family must avenge her child...But first: for him to have a better Life he would need support, allies... Friends. (Enter the Avengers) 

Add-on: Frigga having this vision was just meant to be a one shot that would connect many different alternative stories, all with the 'what if Frigga did something for Loki' as a common base. All of them would be Frostiron 'cause I honestly believe they are just meant for one another! It is just so open to so many possibilities... That I never got to writing any of them. 

One of the first ideas I had following this concept was of Frigga introducing Tony and Loki early on somehow: as kids they would be like 'imaginary friends' then Tony manages to contact him and they are webcam buds... As young adults, they would help each other go a different path than they did in other lives.... and when Loki needed help, he had allies to back him. (The Avengers, whom Tony may have introduced to him earlier)

Requester: @snarkyship​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Human/no powers AU. Sort-of-enemies to friends to lovers.Tony rents this house/bungalow by the sea for the summer, with a kind of private beach where there is also a cute gazebo. Only that the gazebo is exactly halfway with the other property (by some mistake?). And the tenant of the neighbour bungalow is Loki, who's not so keen on sharing. So Loki&Tony will start a "war" to gain possession of the gazebo, doing their worst using the excuse of "this is my half, I can use it as I want". ((Optional: there is a table right in the middle, so at the beginning they sit at their own side glaring at each other, before starting deploying more convoluted tactics)).Mischief after mischief, they will start to know each other and of course everything will end with one of them inviting the other to their half for a romantic dinner and they'll end up sharing more than the gazebo <3((I hope it's enough clear and but also not too detailed??))

Requester: @snarkyship​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Finally Tony has managed to locate Loki's whereabouts. And it turns out the godling lives in a pretty loft in Manhattan, with all the comforts and the most advanced midgardian technology ((lighting, temperature and everything controlled by a tablet - the Stark latest model!- , appliances linked to the wifi, and has that roomba a knife??)).Tony decides to have a little fun: who said Loki is the only one who can do a little mischief?? So he takes control over Loki's apartment hacking its system; he starts with some flickering lights, the roomba changing suddenly trajectory to stab him, then blasting music in the middle of the night and so on.And Loki would be so frustrated: at the beginning he thinks about some failure in the inferior midgardian technology, then he'll think to be under attack, but he can't feel any magic signature!! Maybe he'll freak out a little, because there is some kind of unknown entity??? ((And while he may be using all the technology without problems, it doesn't mean he fully understands its working)).Tony will have fun, but he also will discover some cute aspects of Loki's personality, like he sings to his plants and he likes to wear fuzzy socks ((ok it sounds voyeuristic, but Tony would respect part Loki's privacy, maybe he'll spy on him only when in the living room or kitchen)).((And maybe he would help Loki as well? Like, the godling had a nightmare after falling asleep on the couch, and Tony would gently woke him up with music))Loki will eventually understand that Stark, the most clever midgardian, was behind all of this, and well, he's the God of Mischief, he can appreciate a well planned trick. Time to return the favor ;)

Requester: @martiszcz​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Someone is trying to break them up by making Loki jealous, mentioning Tony's playboy years, talking about the time they slept with Tony, talking about how much time he spends with some friend (Pepper, Rhodey, I don't care who) but Loki doesn't react - they trust each other.

Requester: @shinindragon​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): The Avengers + Loki fight a villain. Loki uses a lot of his magic, eventually almost draining his energy completely when he protects Tony from getting hurt. When the battle is over, they return to the tower, all of them exhausted. Tony notices Loki doesn't look well, he asks if he's okay. Loki barely gets a word out before he collapses into Tony's arms, unconscious. Thor carries Loki to Tony's and his bedroom, explaining to Tony that he'll be alright, it's just exhaustion from an excessive use of magic. Tony stays with Loki, taking care of him. Fluff and with a sprinkle of angst. 

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) or M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Detroit: Become Human AU - Young Tony Stark is neglected by his father, who is the CEO of CyberLife corporation. He craves for his attention and approval but doesn’t get it, causing him to become so bitter one day that he sneaks into one of the labs to sabotage whatever work he is doing. Tony comes across an abandoned RK800 model (also known as ‘Loki’), about to be taken apart for parts. He salvages the model before it gets destroyed, feeling sorry for this inanimate object that’s being thrown away so carelessly. He rebuilds Loki again in secret, and Loki becomes his friend through lonely times (Tony is there to help Loki understand humans, life, language, etc and Loki just keeps Tony company). Tragedy strikes the Stark family though, when his parents die in a car accident. Loki is there to help him and as Tony starts to grow up and become a man (he continues to fix Loki when he breaks down or updates him), Loki’s system starts to show signs similar to that of human emotions, although Tony is completely unaware of this. At a certain point though, Tony - in one of his bad moods - decides that he doesn’t need Loki anymore and shuts him down and puts him away in storage, resolving to move on with life without these ‘distractions’ to keep him company (image a scene where Tony is angry and throws that frustration and loneliness onto Loki, who tries to calm him down and sooth away his anxiety (’I understand you’) but Tony’s all (‘But you’re just a machine!’) and although Tony isn’t aware, Loki feels a spark of hurt, though even he can’t explain what this emotion means.)  Years pass and eventually Tony forgets about Loki. He earns a name for himself, having taken over his father’s company (which still creates androids and in addition, creates weaponry of mass destruction as well). Obadiah is watching over Tony’s company (he is the one who ‘suggested’ he focus on building a name for himself and to shut out any ‘distractions’ that get in the way: namely Loki. Over the years, he saw how Tony interacted with the android and he had the uneasy sense that the android had matured into something more than its primary use. He considers Loki a threat). The events of Iron Man happen, with Tony being captured by the Ten Rings and then escaping. During his days confined at home to recover, he stumbles upon Loki and decides to reboot him again (partly out of guilt and partly because he’s lonely again). He finds comfort with Loki once more.  Tony decides to crash the charity party by making an appearance with Loki as his ‘bodyguard’. Obadiah sees this and is not happy about this strange attachment Tony has over this android.  Loki helps Tony build his first prototypes of the Iron Man suit, and they get to reacquaint themselves. One day, Loki sees on the news that there are a number of deviant android cases and is confused by what he sees, but it soon dawns on him that he might be feeling emotions for Tony, finally understanding the true meaning, especially when Tony is injured (while Loki is out on an errand) and Obadiah ambushes Tony by stealing the mini arc reactor in his chest.  Shortly afterwards, to spite Tony, Obadiah hacks into Loki’s system and tries to eradicate the ‘deviancy’ he sensed in Loki years ago and turn the android against Tony (he tries to make Loki kill him). It doesn’t work - on the contrary, it finally frees Loki. Together, Tony and Loki go against Obadiah, who is intent on destroying them and taking over CyberLife corp.

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences)  Trigger warning: Sickly, happy song cliches! xD Hah! Wish (Prompt/Idea): In which Tony or Loki (you can choose) is cursed by Amora to relive a week in which their lives suddenly become a musical and everyone around them spontaneously bursts into dance and song. (I have this image of Loki bursting into song about something ridiculous and Tony’s like, “What the HELL, what’s going on!”). This could either be enemies-to-lovers or it could start from them already being in a relationship. Bonus points if the Avengers team all burst into song together and there’s actually lyrics!! (Then I can actually make up a tune/sing it during the last month of 2020 so this year ends with rainbows and fluff and HAPPY FROSTIRON THOUGHTS! XD)

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) or M (Mature) Trigger warning: FLUFF OVERLOAD! <3 Mpreg (might not be everyone’s cup of tea) Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki has a kid with Tony (eeehehe, go all in with the loving and caring Tony fussing over his pregnant enemy-turned-boyfriend-turned-husband), calls her Morgan. Tony is obsessed with buying baby clothes for their daughter to the point where he has a closet dedicated to socks (lol he can’t get enough of small baby clothes and the potential to make his daughter look like a rainbow?!). Lol, I don’t even know! Just domestic bliss I guess! <3 Bonus points if Tony buys Christmas sweaters for his fam, including the Avengers, who dote on baby Morgan like their own (Thor with his anime eyes). Or even better, if baby Morgan grows up and plays little tricks on Uncle Thor and Loki and Tony chuckle in the background as Thor lets his niece do whatever she wants, cause he loves him too much to care, lol~

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: CRACK, haha Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki is a yoga instructor and one day Tony goes to one of his classes and finds out the best positions to ‘relax’ - body, mind and soul >:D. (I love puns, so go crazy hahaha!) 

[matrixreimagined]

The Dream Chronicles Chapter 7

I always forget to post this here! lol

A03 Story Link

A03 Chapter Seven

Trinity woke with the ship.

The gentle hum of the systems rebooting, coming out of their overnight stasis. She heard the lights in the hall flicker on and reach their gentle hum.

She opened her eyes.

Neo was still lost to sleep, his face relaxed and content. She ran a hand down his cheek. Stubble was starting to form. The hair on top of his head was also quickly growing into what looked like a buzzcut. It was cute, she thought, but his haircut in the Matrix had suited him much better. It somewhat softened his features.

It would grow back, she knew. Just as hers had done, fifteen years ago.

She wished she could just stay and watch him sleep. But there were things to do and everyone had been slacking since finding the One. Morpheus was letting it slide because he was so excited himself, but they needed to stay on top of things. Especially repairs. The last thing they needed was for the ship to break down while everyone on board was celebrating and watching Neo kick ass all through the construct.

Sighing, she tried to slip out of his arms, only for his grip to tighten, pulling her back to his chest with a dissatisfied groan.

Try as she might, she couldn't help the smile on her face. For a poddie, Neo was already shockingly strong.

"Don't you dare," he muttered.

"I need to shower," she replied, squirming as she tried to fight his vice-like grip.

"Smell good to me."

She smirked. "I'd like to keep it that way." She slipped down and out of his arms, quickly stepping to her feet.

His eyes cracked open, a lazy grin on his face. "Want help scrubbing your back?"

"Some other time," she promised, grabbing a fresh set of clothes from her shelves.  She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back soon."

Neo hummed, closing his eyes. "Miss you already."

She hurried to the wash. It appeared that no one else was up yet. She could not hear the subtle creaks that came from the crew moving about on the metal ship.

While there were two bathrooms on the ship, only one contained the showers. It was usually a fight in the morning to get there first and Trinity nearly always won.

She kept her time to a minimum, scrubbing her body down and soaping her hair, all the while knowing it wouldn't make much of a difference. In a few hours, she'd be covered in dirt and sweat from running repairs.

Still, it was soothing. And while water was plentiful in Zion due to the recycling plant, on a hovercraft, they were much more limited. Most ships allowed for showers every two days. As the Neb rarely made port in Zion, they tried to conserve water the best they could. Meaning, oftentimes, they were limited to twice-weekly showers.

The urge to get back to Neo was surprisingly overwhelming. She told herself it was only because they'd have to spend the day separately and not because his absence weighed on her every moment that they were apart.

She had lived without him for decades but now minutes dragged by.

Trinity dried off quickly before dressing for the day and slipped back into the hall. Dozer's door was open, as was Morpheus'.

She opened the door to what had quickly become hers and Neo's room.

The man in question was sitting up in bed. He had dressed for the day and made the bed before sitting back on top of it, the datapad pulled down and resting on his lap.

He looked up as she entered, a smile forming on his face that made her heart fucking stop.

"What are you looking at?" she asked to distract herself from his contagious grin, tossing her used clothes into the laundry bag.

"Catching up on the history of Zion. You know-—trying to fill in the gaps."

"How's that going?" She sat next to him on the bed, glancing down at the datapad. He was reading about the Second Machine War, judging by the pictures.

Neo shrugged. "It dually makes sense and is hard to make sense of."

Trinity nodded. "Despite your dreams, you spent thirty years indoctrinated by the Matrix. It'll be harder to let go of certain things."

Neo powered down the datapad, pushing it up behind them to its rightful station. He leaned towards her, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Good morning."

"Morning," she echoed, resting her head against his. "How are you feeling today?"

"Mentally, pretty good. I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be."

"And physically?"

"I'll do anything you ask if you don't tell Apoc where I'm hiding."

She laughed, craning her neck to kiss his cheek. "Sorry, sweetheart. It's back to bootcamp, I'm afraid."

Neo was practically beaming at her and it took her a moment to realize the term of endearment she had laid upon him. She felt herself flush, but Neo kissed her before she could dwell on it for too long.

She let herself get lost, at least for the moment, in the tastes and sensations of Neo. She wanted to just say fuck it all… to call out sick and just stay in bed, kissing him, all day.

But it wouldn't be beneficial for either of them.

Neo still had to train, and she had a ship to run.

But a few minutes more wouldn't hurt.

............

While there was technically no time constraint on breakfast being served, they were definitely late, considering everyone else was already sitting when they walked in.

Switch wasted no time honing in on the tray in Neo's hands. "What's with the bowls and shit?"

Tank was quick to jump in on that as Neo and Trinity made their way past the table to the little kitchenette. "Oooh, that was from their date last night."

Trinity sighed as Neo set the tray in the soapy water. It was going to be a long fucking day.

"Date?" Switch nearly hollered, looking up. "What date? We're on the Neb!"

Dozer fielded that one. "They made do. Dinner, tea, bottle of my home brew."

"What? Ugh!" Switch shook their head. "I can't fucking take this."

"That's really cute, though!" Mouse piped up.

"I'm dying. I'm literally dying."

Neo stopped up next to Trin as she prepared their teas. "Think they've noticed we haven't said anything yet?" he asked, bending down to whisper in her ear.

"Definitely not." She gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry they're like this."

He kissed her head before reaching for two bowls.

"Just look at them," Tank was saying. "It's nearly nauseating."

"Nearly?" Cypher added.

"Hey, dumbasses," Trinity said loudly as Neo poured them each a serving of breakfast, "take a moment and remember who makes your schedules and decide if you really want to be doing overnights for the next month."

Apoc snickered as a collective sigh filled the kitchen. Trinity had never been so thankful for her one friend who seemed able to mind his own damn business.

She brought their teas over and sat at the end of one of the tables, Neo quickly following with their breakfast.

"You two look awfully domestic," Tank said, like he was unable to help themselves. It only made sense, thought Trinity. Of everyone on the crew, Tank was probably the least afraid of her.

"How long was that?" Trinity asked with a sigh.

"Not even thirty seconds," Neo replied evenly, slipping into the seat next to her, "although I'm not sure what you expected."

"You know what? With the exception of Neo, everyone on this crew has gone after me and Sparky for years. And now that I'm on the other side, I get it and I'm getting in on it!"

Neo smirked at the operator. "I'm not exactly innocent; I've definitely got in on going after you and Sparks on my end."

"See!" Tank said, raising a hand to accentuate his point. "This is my time to shine!"

Trinity rolled her eyes while the others chuckled, save Morpheus. He was eyeing Neo with that intense curiosity.

"You're remembering," the captain commented.

"More and more every day," Neo admitted with a glance to Trinity, remembering their conversation the previous night. "The problem is I'm not sure which dreams are reliable, and which aren't."

"What the hell does that mean?" Cypher asked.

"I mean," Neo paused trying to think of how best to explain, "it's undeniable that some of the things I know are accurate, but there's very little I trust implicitly."

"You dreamed of the club," Apoc noted, sounding curious.

"I did," Neo agreed. "Hundreds of times. And the scenarios ranged a few dozen different ways. But nothing actually matched what really happened that night. And even as far as meetings go, I had other dreams where I met Trin in a library or in a bus."

Trinity's head turned towards him quickly and he was met with a stunned silence from the rest of the room. She shook her head, sighed, and went back to her breakfast wordlessly.

The stares from the others didn't stop.

"What?"

"When Trinity and I were deciding how to make contact with you," Morpheus replied, "we discussed both your bus route and the library you frequent."

Neo glanced to Trinity and back to Morpheus.

Fuck.

"I wonder then, if instead of a fixed linear path, you've been dreaming multiple eventualities of the possible ways this could have gone."

"Oooh," said Tank, shaking his head. "Too many big words possibilities for breakfast conversation."

"Agreed," Switch jumped in. "I'd much rather hear about the shit the Messiah may or may not know."

Neo smirked, setting down his spoon into his breakfast, again leaning forward so he could see around Trinity. "Switch, with the things I know, do you really want to play with me?"

"Save the teasing for Trinity, Messiah. I want dee-tails."

Before Neo, Trinity reflected, she probably could have counted the number of times that other's antics had made her blush on one hand. She didn't embarrass easily, nor was she uncomfortable with people being sexually explicit. Case in point, three of her closest friends were Sparks, Tank, and Switch.

Now? It felt as if her cheeks were stained pink at all times.

"I can't speak to the entire validity of everything I know and remember from this world, however"—Neo kept eye contact with Switch—"do the words 'the Switch Shuffle' have the same resonance for you as they do for me?"

Trinity choked on her breakfast, coughing as she tried to swallow the goop. He looked to her, slipping a hand onto her back immediately as Switch spluttered and Apoc, Dozer, and Tank burst into laughter. The others continued to look on in stunned disbelief.

Neo continued rubbing Trinity's back in small circles as he handed her the tea. She took it gratefully, sipping to soothe her throat after the unexpected revelation.

"Oh, shit. Neo knows about the Switch Shuffle," Tank said, wiping his watery eyes. "New best day ever."

Neo shrugged, looking back to Switch. "Now, do you actually have to be drunk to perform the Switch Shuffle or is that just the only way I've seen you do it?"

"I dance better drunk," Switch confirmed, nodding in slight awe. "Okay, Messiah. Tell me about that dream."

Again, Neo shrugged, sliding his arm fully around Trinity's back to hold her against him. He stiffened as he did, remembering again that this was not his world and while Trinity was still his, she did not have the memories that he did. He went to lower his arm, but Trinity leaned into him in silent permission.

He swallowed while the others eagerly listened in. "We were in Zion at a celebration in the Temple. Switch had a little too much to drink when everyone was getting ready and arrived completely sloshed. Before Hamann could do any sort of announcements, Switch was demanding the drums start and proceeded to do the Switch Shuffle in front of half of Zion. No music, no one else dancing. Just a big circle cleared for you to… shuffle."

"That's bloody brilliant!" Switch said, nodding ferociously.

Neo picked up his spoon. "I enjoyed myself."

"What else happened?" they asked, drumming their hands on the table, bouncing in their seat.

"That was mostly it," Neo said, squeezing Trin's side. "Just dancing."

"Dancing?" Tank asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Or… you know… dancing?"

Neo said nothing, just took another bite of his breakfast.

The short answer, which he would not be sharing, was both.

He could still hear the beat in his head of the drums echoing around the Cave. Heat rolling around them with hundreds of people dancing in close quarters. Trinity pressed against his body, his arms around her as they swayed to the beat. Not caring about sweat or the people around them watching, just moving together.

Before stumbling home. Leaving the party early to kiss in empty halls and elevators. Fumbling to unlock their apartment as he pinned her to the door, before their clothes fell to the floor and their rhythm changed.

He tried not to shift as he felt himself harden.

Instead, he just took another bite.

"This is fucking wild," Mouse said, eyes wide. "I've never even seen the Switch Shuffle. I've only heard about it."

"That's because I don't drink around children."

"I'm seventeen!" Mouse whined.

"You're a baby."

"I'm old enough to drink and go into the Matrix. I should be old enough to see the Switch Shuffle."

"You're really not missing much," Trinity told him.

"Neo's seen stuff in his dreams that I've never seen in real life! How is that fair?"

"Don't worry, Mouse," said Tank, slinging an arm on the younger man's shoulders. "One day, you'll see real titties too. Just not Trinity's."

Trinity smirked, sparing a side glance at Neo. Years of worrying how the One would react to waking up in the real world were wasted down the drain.

When she had gone into the Matrix that night to find him, she was secure in the knowledge that she was at an advantage. She knew things about him. She orchestrated getting him out of his tiny apartment and to the club, had watched him for weeks on end.

And then he had said her name.

It was intimidating, sometimes, how well he knew them all. An odd anecdote about Switch's dancing skills or Deadbolt giving him a hard time, but it all came back to her.

Entwined, the Oracle had told her. Their fates were entwined and inseparable. "He'll be the One. But without you, he'll fall."

She had spent so long trying to figure out why life in the real world still felt wrong and incomplete. Like a breath caught in your throat. Taking in more and more but being unable to release. And then, he was there, and she could finally exhale.

"Oooh," said Switch, sitting up straighter. "Have any fun stories about Sparks?"

Neo blinked, tilting his head to the side in thought.

"Ease up," Trinity ordered the table softly. "Breakfast first, then interrogation."

Switch stuck out their tongue but started eating.

"You guys up for poker later?" Tank asked. "I know Neo knows all of us but maybe that would be a chance for us to know him."

Trinity glanced to Neo, inclining her head slightly and leaving the decision to him. She had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea, but he needed to do so on his own terms. When she gave no indication one way or the other, Neo nodded. "Yeah, that might be nice."

"Awesome!" Switch grinned. "I'll bring the cards, Neo brings the stories, and Dozer can bring the booze."

"I'll bring the stomach pump," Apoc added dryly before turning to Neo. "Finish up. I'll meet you where we trained yesterday."

Neo nodded, unsure what he was dreading more: the intense workout or having to let Trinity go from his arms. She felt so fucking right, leaning into him, tucked into his side. He finally understood why couples felt a need to display affection.

It wasn't about proving something. It was about never wanting to let go of something good in a world where everything else was bullshit.

The older man carried his dishes over to the sink, setting them in the water before saying a quick goodbye to everyone.

Trin leaned her head against his shoulder, briefly, before sitting up to continue eating her breakfast.

The crew at large still seemed fascinated with their interactions. Most were trying, subtly at least, to avoid staring at them.

Cypher, however, was blatantly watching them.

It made him a little uncomfortable and he tried to think back to his dream memories of the real world. While he had plenty of memories of Tank and Dozer and Switch and Apoc, even a fair few with Mouse, there were significantly less of Cypher.

He knew the man, vaguely.

Had memories with Cypher lingering in the background, watching Trinity a little too intently for Neo's liking. Mostly on the Neb. In fact, he couldn't think of any memories of Cypher in the Matrix or even in the city.

It was as if the man existed only on the ship.

He couldn't quite make sense of it, but then, things were still becoming clearer.

Trinity started giving orders out to the remainder of the crew, letting them know their jobs for the day, prioritizing a crack in the outer hull that needed to get repaired before they flew off anywhere new.

She turned to Morpheus. "I'm giving you a heads up—there's a good chance Lock is going to want a call. He wasn't too happy with the latest report."

The captain barely withheld a sigh. It was nice, Neo thought, to know some things never changed.

Neo waited for Trinity after he finished eating so he could take her bowl to the sink as well. She rewarded him with a small smile that made his heart skip a beat.

"Good luck," she said as he walked by.

He cupped her cheek as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head.  "See you soon," he promised, more for his benefit than hers.

He ignored the teasing sounds from Switch and Tank as he left to continue his training. Life was good.

.............

One by one, the rest of the crew filed out of the mess hall to get back to work. Cypher and Dozer went to work on the hull, and Mouse hurried along to help with the wiring on the bridge. Morpheus left to take inventory, leaving only Switch and Tank behind with Trinity.

"So?" Tank pushed.

"You can't just let things be, can you?" Even as she said it, her lips twitched into a small smile.

"Not for all the bread in Zion. Come on! How was your date?"

"It was good"—she found herself looking down as she thought back to the night before—"really good."

"It was his idea?" Switch asked, leaning forward.

She nodded. "Yeah. Said he wanted to make sure we did this right, despite all the memories and confusion. And he's more concerned with making sure I'm comfortable than he is with this transition."

Trinity wondered if it was wrong that it made her unbelievably happy to see him trying so damn hard to make her feel safe and happy.

"It's all he seems to be focused on," Tank agreed. "Much to Morpheus' dismay."

She considered admitting what the Oracle had told her. To unleash the burden that lay on her shoulders for fifteen goddamn years and yet… she stopped herself.

She had her reasons for keeping it to herself for so long, least of all that what the Oracle said was for her and her alone. She knew she would have been weaponized if anyone had known her ties to the One.

She'd thought about telling her friends before, just so she could talk to somebody about it.

But Tank would be too excited to keep it to himself. Even if he never told, his actions lacked subtlety and Switch would have kept it to themself but would have teased Trinity mercilessly, she knew. And there was always the chance of being overheard and found out.

Of course, now the secret was mostly already out.

She and Neo were bound together.

A profound attachment that she couldn't begin to explain.

But she stopped herself from saying more about the Oracle because… well, because the only person she really wanted to share that with was Neo.

And it was stupid—he had barely gone from her sight and she already missed him and was counting down to when she'd have an excuse to touch him again.

They had spent two nights together and the thought of sleeping in her own bed alone made her queasy.

The words were already on the tip of her tongue every time she caught sight of him, and her heart ached to say them.

I love you.

But he was still so new to the real world. He was still adjusting and the last thing she wanted to do was confuse him as he learned to separate his dreams from reality.

"Morpheus'll get over it," Switch said, pulling Trinity from her thoughts abruptly. "So, have you two fucked yet?"

"Will you stop fucking asking that?!" Trin said, staring at her friend incredulously. "In what world would I ever share that kind of information?"

"This world, Neo's dream world… who cares? Come on, I mean, he stayed the night after your little date, didn't he?"

"We're sharing a space." She didn't mean for it to come off defensive, but it definitely did.

"Whatever. The fucking is inevitable. What I'm curious about is, are you two married in his world?"

Oh.

Truthfully, she hadn't thought about it.

Marriage was, after all, a simple ceremony and a piece of paper.

It was low on her priorities long before she met Neo but now… the idea of putting some kind of formal claim on him was appealing. To have him marked as taken…

She had never been particularly possessive but now it crept through her. A dark urge to keep him for her own. To lock him away where he could be safe and protected and hers. It sounded far too good for her liking.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I feel like he would have said something if we were. He's been very honest about the whole thing."

"I don't know," said Switch, "you said yourself, he's concerned with making sure you feel safe. And you're kind of a flight risk. He might not be telling the full truth.""

Shaking her head, she said, "He wouldn't lie. He knows that everything between us right now is based on trust and…"

"Slow down," Switch narrowed their eyes, leaning forward. "Holy shit. You really trust this guy, don't you? Like actually trust him, trust him?"

Why did it feel like she was walking into a trap?

Trin looked away briefly before admitting, "Yeah. I do."

Switch looked to Tank. "Took this bitch years to trust me. Turns out, all it takes is a line about seeing her in my dreams and a swift make out."

Trin flipped Switch off.

"It is weird," Tank said with a shrug. "I mean, under normal circumstances, if someone walked up to me and said they knew shit about my future, I wouldn't believe them. Maybe it's because he's the One or maybe it's just because you two have your whole"—Tank waved a hand—"thing going on."

Trinity knew what he meant.

Tank tended to be as trusting as they came but the things Neo said were somewhat out of the realm of belief. And yet, she never doubted his words or his intent.

"And not for nothing," Tank added, almost as an afterthought. "I know you know more than you're saying."

Her crew wasn't stupid, that was for sure.

She nodded, unwilling to lie to her friends through anything beyond omission. "If there was anything that I felt was related to safety or the wellbeing of the crew, I would let you all know. But there are some things that don't need to be shared."

Switch snorted loudly. "You tell that to Morpheus?"

"Yes."

"How'd the Cap take that?"

"As well as can be expected." Trinity sighed. "There's a lot that I know. But there's a lot more that I don't. Until Neo and I are able to figure things out, he's just going to have to deal with it."

"Surprised you didn't figure things out last night." Tank had a teasing tone lacing his words.

"We talked some."

"Some?" the operator pushed, waggling his brow.

She kept a blank face. "Yes."

"Ugh, stop it with that!" Switch shook their head. "I get that you're keeping some things to yourself but at least tell me this: the One a good kisser?"

It took all her self-control to not let that question affect her. Because fuck. The care and attention put into each moment where they were fused together was outweighed only by the sheer passion and mutual adoration.

Kissing Neo was toe-curling, body-tensing, eye-rolling, breathtakingly perfect.

"Fucking amazing," she muttered before she could stop herself. She regretted it immediately, noting the shit-eating grins on both her colleagues' faces and Trinity sighed. "He knows me, okay? Like, in some ways we're starting this like it's new, but he still is coming in with all this information."

Tank bounced in his seat. "And when you say he knows you…"

She'd already alluded to it. In for a penny. "He's been dreaming about me for fifteen years. He knows my body better than I do."

Switch smacked Tank in the chest. "Can't take it. Can't fucking take it anymore."

"I'm literally dying," said Tank, shaking his head, "Trin, please, I am fucking begging you… let me tell Sparks!"

She shook her head. "Not until I talk to Ghost. I don't want him to hear about this third-hand."

Tank leaned forward. "Sweetheart, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this to myself. We message every day and I keep telling him ‘not much' is going on. Not much, Trin! When we've got a living, breathing Messiah walking around and you're saying shit like that!"

"I have faith you can keep this to yourself for at least a few more days."

"I don't!"

"I can always find more work for you if you think you have enough time on your hands to be gossiping," she teased. It was an empty threat and they both knew it.

"You owe me so big, mami."

Trin rolled her eyes. "On that note," she said, "I need to get back to work. As do the two of you."

"Bo-ring," Switch sang even as they stood up. "But I guess I'll have to wait for tonight. Playing poker with the One is sure to be fun."

"It'll be something."

Trinity could only hope the crew would behave.

[beca-mitchell]

wish i could pretend i didn't need you (2/?)

Summary: Beca Mitchell is born into a life of organized crime, directionless and despondent. Then she meets Chloe Beale.

Chapter Summary: One week later, Beca and Chloe go on their "first" date.

Word Count: 3,564

Chapter title from "What Am I" by Why Don't We.

Read below. AO3 Link under the cut.

“Beca, piano is about precision, of course. But also...a delicate touch. Precision and gentleness all at once. Watch.”

Beca watches carefully, eyes trained on the keys her mother presses. Very intently, she tracks each motion, making sure to memorize the melody.

“Understand?” her mother asks, lifting a hand to sweep a strand of Beca’s hair behind her ear.

Beca furrows her brow in concentration before she places her hands on the keys and mimics exactly what her mother had down, copying the melody precisely. When she finishes, she beams up at her mother who smiles at her with pride and a little bit of another, then-unidentifiable emotion.

* * * * *

 Beca glances at her phone for the tenth time since she reached the corner of the block she had agreed to meet Chloe at.

Radio silence from her father. He must be in a good mood. Better for Beca if he is. She has been riding a wave of being nervous over her first date with Chloe. Chloe Beale, a twenty-seven year-old vet with a heart of gold and a devastating smile.

The whole date thing—that pretty much came out of nowhere, smashing into Beca with the force of a thousand sledgehammers. Any ensuing breathlessness, however, turned out to be breathless excitement and anticipation. She wasn’t...opposed to going on a date. She wasn’t opposed to seeing Chloe again, despite telling herself that she was just attracted to Chloe on a physical level and only that.

After that first night—that first morning—they had exchanged numbers, content on simply staying in touch—at least Beca is sure that was how she had phrased it. She had caught the lingering dash of disappointment on Chloe’s face as she had slowly slid from the bed. Whatever had caused her to partake in her next actions, well she totally blamed her lingering hangover (nonexistent hangover), but she had kissed Chloe again.

It was just...that time of year, she told herself. Continues to tell herself.

“Stupid,” she mutters to herself, now absentmindedly tapping through her phone. Her last text from Chloe—a cheerful On my way!—stares innocently back at her. Is she dating this woman now? Are they girlfriends? Is there—should Beca have brought flowers?

Huge oversights everywhere. Red flags everywhere. Beca runs through all the possible options in her mind, thoughts of her father so far out of her mind.

Ultimately, worst case scenario: Beca had, quite simply put, been unable to resist Chloe Beale that night and she had found that she needed the company more than anything. She rarely found connections with other people, let alone strangers. It was something ingrained in her from the beginning—something that had been impressed upon her as a child, then as a teenager, and continuously as an adult.

Don’t become attached.

“I hope I’m not late.”

Beca startles, quickly putting her phone away as she turns to greet Chloe. She stops—freezes—and for once, finds her mind going blank. No thoughts about her calendar. No thoughts about missed phone calls. No thoughts about missed shipments. No thoughts about her father, obligations, or meetings.

Just one thought: “Chloe, hi. Wow. Hi.”

Chloe’s hair, carefully curled and flowing over her shoulders, ruffles in the wind. She is wearing a denim jacket over a black shirt and black jeans which Beca can tell hug her hips and thighs beautifully. Somehow, despite the simplicity, Beca feels underdressed in her own nice sweater and jeans.

“That’s a good wow, right?” Chloe’s voice holds a teasing lilt to it, like she knows exactly why Beca is so flustered. She probably does, Beca muses. Beca wonders if they can kiss—wonders why she has all kinds of knowledge about various weapons, business transactions, and how to get the deal she wants, but none—well, hardly any knowledge—about how to handle a normal first date with a beautiful woman.

She goes with the first thing on her mind.

“You’re…” Beca swallows, eyes tracking down Chloe’s body. “You’re beautiful.”

“I…” Chloe blushes, shy for once under Beca’s gaze. “Thank you.” Beca holds her breath, wondering if Chloe will kiss her; wondering if that would be odd. Chloe smiles, leaning in to press a kiss against her lips, allowing a brief moment of indulgence when Beca’s tongue sweeps across her lower lip, almost politely. It makes Chloe giggle, causing her to draw back to Beca’s disappointment.

“What?” Beca asks. She licks her lips unconsciously, taking a step back. It is so different seeing Chloe like this in the drifting sunset and on a public walkway, without the shadow of night and alcohol, all tangled up in their bedsheets. “Did I do something?”

“Nothing,” Chloe promises, reaching out to gently tuck a curl behind Beca’s ear. “You’re just a lot more shy today, considering what we did last week.”

Beca laughs, a breathless sound, tilting her body slightly so she can face away from Chloe just enough to hide the blush rising on her face. She can hardly compartmentalize the sensation that flows through her then. The ease she feels with this interaction—Chloe is hardly somebody she would consider a confidante. More likely to be a liability if anything. A danger to herself if she were to ever get too wrapped up in Beca’s life.

The thought makes Beca swallow. Too much thinking about the future. Too much thinking about a guaranteed future with a woman she slept with once.

A woman with whom she is about to embark on a date.

A first date with somebody who has no idea who she is.

“Beca?” Chloe’s voice comes back into Beca’s depth. “If that is your name. Beca Mitchell,” she drawls.

“Sorry, what?” Beca asks quickly.

“Nothing you just…got all quiet and shy. I was just kidding.” Chloe beams at her, holding out a hand. “Want to get going then?”

“Oh, um.” Beca smiles, reaching out to hold Chloe’s hand, resisting the urge to shiver at how warm and soft Chloe’s hand feels in her own. “Let’s. And yes, my name is Beca, you weirdo.”

“Are you okay with going to Victor’s?”

Beca blinks in surprise at the mention of one of the restaurants where her family frequently conducts business. “Oh, um—”

“I just heard it had good reviews, and it’s close.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been there. It’s fine.” Beca doesn’t think much of it. She hasn’t been there often enough and never really for business in a high profile sense. She’s sure it’ll be a relatively easy-to-handle situation.

She’s on a date. She knows she isn’t working. She knows that her father knows that. But still, she misses what Chloe says in response, too focused on the logistics that have momentarily flooded her mind.

“Hey,” Chloe says quietly, stopping them in their tracks. She tugs on Beca’s hand expectantly. Beca swallows, looking up into Chloe’s eyes as Chloe is seemingly unaware of the people having to walk around them on the sidewalk, grumbling all the while. “I’m glad I get to see you again.”

Beca finds that she has only the urge to tell Chloe the truth—to be honest and open with this woman. It is different. Refreshing. “Me too,” she replies, smiling again when Chloe leans in to kiss her again, soft lips tender and gentle against her own.

 * * * * *

 Beca finds that she loves talking to Chloe—loves her company and her presence. That first morning together had been more of the same humorous banter. They had kind of gotten to know each other, but mostly Beca had basked in the comfort of Chloe’s presence and her touch.

(And more of some of the same activities that had brought them into Chloe’s bed in the first place, but that was just a bonus, Beca told herself.)

Tonight, however, is something more. Beca feels it. It had been what she had anticipated, with no small measure of nerves, when she had accepted Chloe’s text asking her on a date only a few days after they had gone their separate ways.

Tonight, together, they sit in the quiet corner of the restaurant, staying for hours until the lights dim and they realize that they’ve stayed until closing. Chloe turns to meet Beca’s bewildered expression and they both burst into quiet giggles as they quickly gather their belongings.

“That’s never happened to me before,” Chloe comments. “Staying until a restaurant has closed.” She flutters her eyelashes at Beca. “You’re a good date.”

Beca smiles, taking a moment to make sure her phone is in her pocket. As she does so, she notices one of the wait staff gesturing for her to go into the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back. Just going to the bathroom.” She pecks Chloe on the cheek, quickly making her way to the back of the restaurant. When she’s sure that Chloe isn’t looking, she ducks into the kitchen, brow already furrowed and her mouth set in a thin line. “This better be good,” she points out, clearly displeased.

The maître-d cowers under Beca’s gaze for a few seconds before she grows bored and turns her attention to the restaurant owner who, to his credit, walks right up to her without a care in the world. “Miss Mitchell—”

Beca’s jaw clenches. “Beca.”

He smirks at her. Her fingers twitch against her thigh, wishing more than anything she had something more than a switchblade on her. “Miss Mitchell, so kind of you to stop by our restaurant tonight.”

“I’m kind of busy, so if you could…” she motions with her finger. “Hurry up a little, that would be great.”

“Is that any way to talk to somebody who extended restaurant hours for you and your…” his eyes cut to the door with a knowing glint. “Your friend.”

“I’m not working tonight,” Beca says lowly in lieu of responding to the obvious bait. “What do you want?”

“Seems your associates left something behind the last time they passed through here. And shortchanged us on some money. When we agreed to help you, it was simply that—to pass through.” He lifts a small package, carefully wrapped and tied in string. “We can’t have things like this here.”

Beca smirks. “Are you sure that wasn’t just one of your employees taking a little something for themselves?”

He presses the package into Beca’s arms before stepping back. “Send your father my regards—or maybe I can call him to let him know I saw you tonight?”

Beca swallows back the immediate rage she had felt when the package pressed into her arms roughly. She quickly tucks it into the waistband of her jeans, finding no pockets in her chosen sweater for the evening. Already, she feels the tension in her chest about to snap—a combination of anxiety and frustration with yet another business mishap. A business dealing that she can’t even address properly because Chloe is sitting alone at their table in an empty restaurant, simply waiting for Beca to return from the bathroom. Definitely not thinking about the package of questionable substances (drugs, Beca assumes dryly) tucked into her date’s jeans.

“I’m sure your friend will understand if you…end the evening early. But we would be happy to help you find an escort to get her home.” 

Beca’s heart races. She meets his gaze defiantly. A litany of words threatens to escape, nothing particularly appealing or fitting for the current situation. She steadies herself mentally, attempting to plaster a neutral expression on her face. She goes for calculated reasoning and an even tone, hedging a bet as to what exactly happened to have caused a mix-up at this level. “Next time,” she says, keeping her voice low. “If you ever try to steal from us again, at least make the effort to own up to it instead of chickening out. Trying to save your own ass like this?” She shrugs, making her way back to the kitchen entrance. “Not a good look,” she finishes, without looking back.

The short walk back to Chloe feels like a lifetime, but Beca makes it. She releases a breath she hadn’t known she was holding the moment Chloe turns to face her. Chloe, who is blessedly alone, stands and her eyes flash with concern. “I was about to go find you. Thought you slipped out the back or something.”

There is levity in Chloe’s voice, but Beca senses the underlying hesitation. The uncertainty. That same uncertainty is reflective of the sheer newness of...whatever this is and already Beca feels like she has done enough damage for one evening. For as big as Los Angeles is, she has come to know, through experience, that there is rarely anywhere to hide. “Sorry, just had some business to take care of,” she apologizes, offering a sheepish shrug to mask the momentary guilt and dread that had crept through her.

Chloe grins. “I mean. I didn’t ask. But thank you.”

Beca blushes even though she had totally said that with the intent of diverting Chloe’s attention while also going for some honesty, though she’s sure Chloe doesn’t need to know about what happened in the kitchen. She doesn’t need Chloe to know about any of that.

“Shall we?” Beca asks, opting to change the subject instead.

“Okay,” Chloe agrees. She stands, reaching for Beca’s hand. The gesture and all its casual intimacy makes Beca swallow. She doesn’t dare look back to see if anybody is watching; she doesn’t dare look back to check if any unsavory eyes are focused on their actions. She is suddenly so aware of how empty the restaurant is, how they really are the only ones there. She just had become so distracted and enamored by her conversation with Chloe—the way her eyes had sparkled so beautifully under the gentle restaurant lighting.

Still, with Chloe’s hand in her own, Beca finds that she manages to remain stoic, ramrod straight back and all. Together, they leave the restaurant, Beca’s heart somewhere in her throat all the while.

“I...don’t want this night to end,” Chloe admits as they walk down the quiet street. Beca shifts her gaze from assessing the parked cars along the street to meet Chloe’s eyes.

“I don’t either,” Beca admits.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Didn’t you kiss me already?” Beca asks quickly with a twitch of her lips. Before she can even form a full smirk, Chloe’s hand comes up to cup the back of her head delicately and her lips descend on Beca’s. Softly, she kisses Beca, both of their eyes slipping shut at the sensation. Beca sighs quietly, reaching up to grip Chloe’s shoulders as she tilts her head to fully sink into the kiss. She tries to memorize the way Chloe kisses her. It is a mix of desire, tenderness, and newness all at once. There is nothing to memorize however, not quite yet, as Chloe’s technique shifts and changes seamlessly with each moment.

“Come back with me,” Chloe requests, pressing her fingertips more firmly against the back of Beca’s head. “Please,” she whispers, breath ghosting against Beca’s jaw. Beca whimpers quietly, lifting her chin to catch Chloe in another kiss, both of them sinking into the sensation. Beca feels her back hit the brick exterior of the nearby storefront. Chloe presses closer still, sliding a hand around Beca’s waist to hold her close. The action incites Beca’s back into arching so she presses more solidly against Chloe’s front, enjoying the sensation of their bodies slowly beginning to meld together so naturally. Beca reaches up to hold Chloe’s face, losing herself momentarily.

She is abruptly brought back to reality when she shifts her stance to nudge her leg between Chloe’s and the rough texture of the package still tucked into her jeans rubs harshly against her belly. She gasps, pushing Chloe back slightly, placing her hands against the collar of her jacket.

“Sorry,” Chloe says quickly, looking rather contrite. “I’m sorry, I just—I haven’t stopped thinking about—”

“No, no, um. Me too. It’s…” Beca gently nudges Chloe back further as she steps away from the wall. “It’s...I have to be somewhere tonight. See my dad.”

Chloe’s lips—already pink and swollen, sending a flash of desire through Beca’s body—curve downwards, but she nods in understanding. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes again. “I just thought…”

“No, I just...yeah. He called earlier and I should…” Beca blows out a breath, running her fingers through her hair. “I should...go. See him, I mean.”

Chloe smiles reassuringly, both of them relaxing as Chloe takes one of Beca’s hands off her jacket. She presses a slow kiss to Beca’s knuckles, sending a shiver down Beca’s spine. “It’s okay. I’m not really a...put-out-on-the-first-date kind of person anyway.”

That breaks the rest of the tension that had been lingering in Beca’s body and she has half a mind to say fuck it to her father (not a new feeling) and all of this bullshit and just go home with Chloe. She laughs, pulling Chloe boldly in for another kiss, but stopping before they can go any further. “Well. I mean, something tells me that’s a lie.”

Chloe scoffs. “Please. That wasn’t a date. You were just a hot girl I met at a bar.”

Beca raises an eyebrow. “And now?” she asks, a twinge of curiosity seeping its way into her tone before she can help it.

“One of the best first dates I’ve been out with,” Chloe murmurs. “And I want to see you again.” Her eyes seem to shine even more than Beca had previously thought possible. “If that’s okay with you.”

Beca finds herself smiling—a smile that very nearly stretches her face uncomfortably because she cannot recall ever smiling that widely. At least not in recent memory. “That is...super okay with me.”

“Super okay,” Chloe echoes with a playful smile. The sight makes Beca’s stomach swoop, but at the same time, she is only reminded of the pressure against her belly from both the anxiety and weight (figurative and literal) of the package. “By the way?” Chloe chirps. “I would totally break that first date rule. Just saying. If we just forget all that bar nonsense.”

Beca groans. “Shut up,” she murmurs, though she does not mean it. She wouldn’t mind hearing Chloe laugh for the rest of the night, but she knows she cannot.

 * * * * *

 Beca’s good mood dissipates fairly quickly as she punches in the number to her father’s gated house. She trudges up the path, ignoring the greetings and acknowledgements from the guards she passes along the way.

By the time she reaches her father’s study, passing all the ornate decorative pieces lining the hallways along the way, she is clutching the nondescript package in her clenched fist. Without knocking, she pushes through the doors.

He barely glances up from his book. “Beca. What’d I say about knocking?”

“I forgot,” she says breezily. She tosses the package on the desk in front of him. “This is yours, I believe?”

He sighs, taking his time to earmark his book before he removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Such manners,” he mutters. He peers at the package, reaching out to turn it over delicately, noting the small writings along its edge. “Didn’t know I asked you to go to Victor’s today.”

“I was…” Beca pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I was just having dinner there. They recognized me.”

“Oh? Having dinner by yourself? How was the food?”

“Fine,” Beca murmurs quickly, avoiding the first question deftly. “I didn’t have to bring this back, you know? You need to pick better fronts,” she points out, daring to show defiance for just a few seconds. She’s kind of banking on her father still being in a good mood.

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“No,” Beca responds quietly. Obediently. “It was just unexpected.”

“The price to pay when everybody wants a slice of the pie and we’re only just too willing to accommodate.”

Beca grimaces. She hates this aspect of their relationship. Whenever her father attempts to impress upon her the nobility of what they do. Or the respect they command. It makes her nauseous and ill to even entertain the thought of doing this for the rest of her life. She cannot envision it — not for herself and not for anybody she happens to be friends with.

Not that she has many friends. Less friends means less stakes in the long run.

“Anyway, that was all.”

“You should stay the night. I’ll have Beatrice make you up some breakfast tomorrow. It’s late anyway.” His eyes flash up at her. “Unless you have somewhere else you’d rather be?”

Beca schools her expression carefully as her mind quickly fills with images of fingertips trailing up her arm, down her side, across her tattoos. Delicate sighs. Desperate kisses.

Kind, bright blue eyes and a trusting expression.

“No,” she murmurs. “Nowhere.”

 * * * * *

 “Was that okay?” Beca asks expectantly, searching her mother’s eyes for positive reassurance. “I got all the notes right.”

Her mother’s lips twitch though they still rest in a gentle smile. “My dear,” she says gently. “It’s not about just getting the notes right. Your hands and your heart need to be in concert with each other.”

Beca’s brow furrows, a pout gracing her lips. “In concert?” she echoes.

Slowly, her mother takes Beca’s wrists and places her hands back on the piano. “Try again, but play from the heart. Nothing beautiful ever comes from following the rules.”

fin chapter 2 |  AO3

[mimiplaysgames]

Terra Week Day 1 (Heart/Vacation)

Summary: Aqua needs to find her Keyblade, and Terra realizes he’s the only locked door left. He’s going to have to do something crazy to reunite them. After all, what’s the point of becoming a Master when all these loose ends need their closure? | Word Count: 1,909

Read on AO3

A/N: For Terra Week 2021! You can find that account on Twitter!

~*~*~*~*~

The Tenets of a Master, Ch. 1

For the Bearer to wield the Key, his mind shall not ache His will shall not yield, his Heart shall not break

Terra doesn’t understand why he’s re-reading this book. He knows why (a Yen-Sid-tasked-him-with-it type of why), but he’s already done his time. He’s already written essays and debated about it in classes long ago. He already spent a night in the Master’s office asking for something more useful. Aqua does not recommend it. Ven hates it.

And of course, Yen Sid is the one who assigned it for Terra’s second Mark of Mastery. A most vital book, he had said to Terra. How full of it.

Affairs of the Heart by the Master of Masters in its peeling leather glory, the dumbest book Terra has ever read (though Eraqus would have found offense to that). It’s muddled with archaic language, vague descriptions, and random limericks. It answers questions with questions, and couples answers with contradictions.The tiny nuggets of gold Terra could mine from it are hidden in four-hundred pages of grime. 

A complete waste of time, but if Yen Sid tasked Terra with it, then he has reservations about the strength of Terra’s heart. And Terra isn’t sure if he disagrees.

Terra can’t help but think about The Adventures of Robin Hood when he’s supposed to be studying. The story of a fox and his bear sidekick out to humiliate a maneless lion. Their goal: return stolen money, bring light into homes that have been dark, and destroy the shackles that unjustly imprisoned the common folk. Robin Hood is always smart enough to avoid getting caught. 

That, right there, is a hero. But when Terra suggested it as a book to study for Keyblade Master many years ago, the Master refused.

Perhaps Yen Sid will be more open-minded.

If he recalls correctly, Robin Hood sits on the same shelf, on the top floor. He enters the library on the third level, the foyer opening up to a U-shaped, five-story gala with forest green carpeting and windows that stretch to the ceiling. Aqua wanders through the bottom floor, carrying a conversation with herself.

She has her hand to her face—oh, she’s using her Gummiphone. Terra always forgets. He keeps his off, only carrying it in his pocket because she nags him to. That anyone can reach him in the blink of a thought sounds invasive. 

Scuffling downstairs, he overhears her saying, “I appreciate it. Thank you,” before hanging up.

“Who was that?”

“Ienzo.” She double checks her phone to make sure she’s back at the menu and has, in fact, hung up. Gummiphones are not the easiest to use and Aqua has kept someone on the other line before only because she didn’t understand the use of the red button. Terra shrugs. She continues, “One of the scientists at Radiant Garden.”

Terra still can’t put a face to the name but the mention of scientist and Radiant Garden turns his stomach. It all means the same: people who’ve studied, worked under, and followed Xehanort. It’s not their fault, just like Aqua keeps telling him that it’s not his fault either, but how is Terra supposed to look at anyone who’s known his face for years without ever hearing his voice? 

“What’s going on?”

Aqua is the kind of person who doesn’t mind looking anyone in the eye. When she is warm, it comes naturally. When she’s threatened, she wills it. She glances at the carpet for a moment. This is going to be another string of conversations he and Aqua will dance around. “I’m trying to find my Keyblade.” 

“Oh.” Terra stares at his shoes. Affairs of the Heart sits under his arm, useless. “Are they any help?”

“They’ll try.” She smirks through her frustration. “No one knows where it is, if they remember it at all.” Hugging herself, Aqua shakes her head, her attempt at keeping her eyes dry. “I just want to lay the Master to rest. I want Rainfell back.”

“I know,” he says softly. Every time they spar, it becomes a spectacle when she summons the Defender, a Keyblade twice as long as Rainfell. She’s honestly more intimidating with it, but it’s like looking at a doctored image. The Master’s Keyblade, still alive. They’ve spoken about what to do with it: take it up the mountain so he can watch over them, or leave it outside the castle so he’s always near, or display it in the entrance hall above the thrones so he can be proud. Terra would like it on the terrace. There’s always a beautiful sunset there, even when it storms. 

But without the Defender, Aqua is left weaponless. Terra’s been requested not to ask about it, and he wants to honor that. He wants to, but he doesn’t want to dance anymore. “Where did you last see it?”

She sighs. “If I don’t answer that, would you feel I was punishing you?”

“Most definitely.” Smile.

It unnerves her. Aqua says a lot more with facial expressions alone. This one tells him, I wish you weren’t so difficult. “I last saw it with you.” Realizing what she said, she jerks. “Well, not you.”

“Is that how we’re going to call it?” Terra pulls his lips to his ears. “You, but not you.”

“You don’t have to put on a brave face for me, Terra.”

“I’m not. Laughing about it just feels better.”

She grimaces. “I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I don’t either, but what else am I going to do?” Terra drops the book on a nearby table. “What’s the plan?”

“Well...” She wraps herself tighter. “I don’t know what I can do other than trace Xehanort’s steps. Ienzo mentioned several journals that he left behind.” 

Terra swallows a lump in his throat, his fist balling into itself like a feral in defense.

“Aqua—”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be so bad.”

“Stars,” he curses.

“It will be fine.” Her arms are still crossed, and she lilts ‘fine’ to be an endnote, closing the conversation. Stepping by his side, she eyes the book and frowns. “I’ll talk to Yen Sid. I hardly think it’s necessary for you to reread that.” 

While Terra appreciates her vote of confidence, she’s dodging. “Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

“I already think you’ve proven yourself—”

“Not that. With Rainfell.” And no, he hasn’t proven anything. Yen Sid clearly doesn’t think so, either. “I can help.”

“I’ll have to be brave, that’s all.” She offers a weak smile. “And if it gets bad… I like to think that the Master is with me. It’s nice.”

Sure, it’s nice, relative to other things. Relative to being imprisoned in Darkness and fighting not to fade away, it is nice. While your body is doing things without you, it is nice. When you’re trapped in hell all alone, it is nice. But it’s still a foreign Keyblade—not exactly comparable to a hug they’ll never feel again, nor does it speak for their own hearts. A part of Aqua is missing, out there, alone. She’d feel that, too.

“Anyway,” Aqua says (another endnote), hands cupping her elbows, “I think there are better ways to host your Mark of Mastery. Let me talk to Yen Sid. You deserve better.”

There’s something sick and twisted about Aqua following Xehanort’s history, a guttural laugh at your most humiliating memory. Worse if she’s going to read all the horrifying details of how he conducted his experiments. She’s the one who deserves better. She (always) deserves better.

Aqua is being Aqua when she prefers to look at a future when she has her Keyblade and he passes his Mark. Simply. A much-needed distraction for her but as Terra looks down at the cover of Affairs of the Heart, the title worn down so that the leather imprint bleeds out the letters, Terra realizes he simply doesn’t care right now. 

May your heart be your guiding key is a phrase they all grew up with, but the heart is fickle. A growing part of his knows one thing: he has to do something about this. 

His heart wouldn’t rest if he doesn’t try—it already barely takes a breath, what with remembering everything that’s happened twelve years ago. Aqua never pins it on him. Never, even when he asks if she blames him. What’s the point of accepting the title of Master if the honor of having it is empty? 

Terra enters the kitchen to no one else but Ven, who has his feet propped up on the dining table next to a half-eaten piece of strawberry cake with a Gummiphone in his hands. 

“Have you gotten Kairi’s message?” Ven asks. 

“What message?”

Ven sighs exasperatedly. “What is it with you and Aqua never reading texts? You guys act like old people.” He waves his phone. “Kairi. She invited us to hang out at Destiny Islands with everyone else. It’d be cool to have fun. Like a vacation. Ever heard of that?”

“Everyone else?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice of her.”

Ven slaps his forehead and drags it down his face. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m thinking,” Terra says while he pulls a pitcher of water out of the fridge, “of helping Aqua find her Keyblade.”

It’s an obvious statement—Ven of course would want to help, too—but there’s something Ven hears that Terra isn’t saying. He’s smarter than people give him credit for. “What are you talking about?”

“Rainfell was last with me.” Terra chuckles something hoarse. “Well, not me.”

“And?”

“I think I can find it.”

“Are you nuts?” Ven leans forward on his chair with both hands on the armrests and whispers (as though Aqua is next door and not on the other side of the castle). “She’ll kill you.”

Terra sits at the marble countertop that separates the kitchen from the dining room. The Master used to say an open layout like this made it a more wholesome environment. “I have to. I’m the missing link in finding it, and she won’t recognize that.”

Ven meets Terra on the counter. “But what would happen to you?”

“Nothing. It’d be like reading memories.”

“Do you hear yourself? What if you see something disgusting?”

Disgusting as in what Xehanort has done to other people. Experiments. Torture. People Terra’s face has lied to and comforted and ridiculed, maybe secrets that no one knows. Would Terra relive them or would he watch them from afar like he’s spying? Will it hurt? Will he have control or is he going to be forced to watch whatever comes to mind and deal with the collateral damage later? Someone has to pay for these crimes. Xehanort never did and Robin Hood doesn’t exist. 

Somewhere, deep in the gutters of his heart lives a thought he’d never voice to anyone: maybe a walk down someone else’s memory lane would let him relive memories of Master Eraqus. That sounds like a good exchange for everything else.

His heart can’t lead him astray, anyway. It can’t take him down a path to Darkness if he cares this much, if he’s this ready to throw himself into the fire and deal with the burns, so long as he keeps good company.

“I don’t think it’s fair that Aqua has to do anything regarding Xehanort. She deserves peace.” 

Ven groans. There’s an unspoken pact of keeping this a secret between them. “You owe me a second vacation just for stressing me out.”

“Done deal.” Terra takes a swish. “Apparently the stars are really pretty at the beach.” 

[baby-hyena]

Fearless | KHSxJJH Fanfic

Note: This will be the 3rd and last part of Kim Hye Soo’s POV. Thank you so much for reading and for your comments. 🥺💞 I really, reaaaly appreciate it. 🥰 Thank you. If you haven’t read the 1st and 2nd part, here are the links:

1st part: https://baby-hyena.tumblr.com/post/616456915659227136/begin-again-khsxjjh-fanfic

2nd part: https://baby-hyena.tumblr.com/post/617439729873567744/distance-a-khsxjjh-fanfic

P.S.: I’m sorry if this is too cheesy. 🤭🙈

P.P.S: Love you, fellow Hyena babies. 🤗

~

There's something 'bout the way, the street looks when it's just rained

The production had to rush the filming of Hyena because of Ji Hoon’s hectic schedule. They had to film separately so they can save time and quickly wrap up the drama. It’s also been a week since Hye Soo took care of Ji Hoon when he stayed outside and caught a cold. The morning after that, she woke up with Ji Hoon’s note saying he’s thankful and that he had to go because his manager went crazy looking for him. Hye Soo wished she shouldn’t have slept so she would’ve been with him a little longer.

There's a glow off the pavement, you walk me to the car

They didn’t have the chance to talk after that. And since Ji Hoon was busy, he couldn’t drive her home like he always did. He apologized to her and told her that he’ll make it up to her. Hye Soo reassures him that she’s fine and she cheers him up. Though, she misses him and sometimes she can’t help it she’d post him on her Instagram. Good thing she changed her username into junggumza so her fans would think it’s just her being in character. She’d also stalk his Instagram whenever she misses him.

And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot, yeah

It’s their last filming day, Hye Soo and Ji Hoon almost didn’t get to see each other on set. They’re all over the place, filming each other’s last scenes. Their last scene together was set on a pub where they’d drink and have dinner together with Team H. Hye Soo was excited for the scenes because she’d get to see Ji Hoon and his funny expressions. And when the camera starts rolling, she tried hard not to laugh because of it. I missed you, her heart whispers as she looks at Ji Hoon. They’d chitchat in between breaks during that scene and she’d wish that moment would last; but she had to go to her next filming site.

We're drivin' down the road, I wonder if you know

Hye Soo was walking to her car when she heard some heavy footsteps behind her. She turns around to see who it is. It was Ji Hoon walking to her, he’s wearing a baseball cap and he’s smiling wide. When he’s in front of her he says, “Lemme drive you home?” She chuckles, “Aren’t you busy today?” Please say no, a small voice talks at the back of her mind. Ji Hoon tilts his head and pouts, “Manager-nim told me I can take the day off.” He gave her a tight smile, she smiles back. Yay! Hye Soo can feel her heart’s dancing at the moment.

I'm tryin' so hard not to get caught up now, but you're just so cool

As soon as Ji Hoon started driving, he also started talking. And unlike any other day, Hye Soo’s full attention is on him as he tells her stories about his busiest days. She’d look at him amusingly and would react whenever it’s funny or sad or annoying. “You know this pandemic changed our lives.” Ji Hoon’s tone becomes serious. Hye Soo blinks as she waits for his next sentence. “Geum Ja and Hee Jae didn’t even get to kiss in their last episode.” Ji Hoon continues as he frowns and pouts. Hye Soo blinks twice and then she bursts out laughing.

Run your hands through your hair, absent-mindedly makin' me want you

They arrived at Hye Soo’s house and Ji Hoon is still talking nonstop. Meanwhile, Hye Soo is thinking of what she’d cook for them. When they enter her house, she looks at Ji Hoon who took off his baseball cap, “What should I cook?” Hye Soo asks. Ji Hoon fixes his messy hair because of his cap. Hye Soo didn’t realize she’s staring at him while holding her breath. How can he be this sexy?, she thought. Hye Soo clears her throat and swallows when Ji Hoon looked at her after fixing his hair. “You were saying..?” he asked. “I’ll just make us salad.” Hye Soo said then she walks away from him.

And I don't know how it gets better than this

Hye Soo was telling Ji Hoon stories as they eat together. “Doing that documentary was really, reaaally fulfilling for me. Thankfully, I got the chance to do it and Park PD was kind to give me that opportunity.” Hye Soo said before she grabs a bite. Ji Hoon looks at her while chewing his food. He gives her a tight smile, after chewing he speaks, “I missed you.” Hye Soo stops chewing and blinks. He caught her off guard. She looks away and mixes her salad then she says, “You beat me. I was gonna tell you that first.”

You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless

After eating, they were sitting while drinking their tea, Hye Soo on her couch and Ji Hoon on the floor. They’re listening to Coldplay’s Yellow. Hye Soo was singing some of the lyrics as she drinks from her tea. When the next song comes up, Ji Hoon speaks, “Oh, that’s my favourite song of them.” It’s Coldplay’s A Sky Full of Stars. Hye Soo giggles as she watches him sing and every time he sings the lyrics “I’m gonna give you my heart,” he points at Hye Soo. She knows he can sing and has a great voice. But she didn’t think she’d love it more when he sings for her.

And I don’t know why but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless

When the song stops, it began to rain. “Oh? It’s raining.” Hye Soo said. Ji Hoon looks outside and it’s pouring. “I checked the weather today, is it because of my voice?” He cracks a joke. Hye Soo laughs, “No way.” They watched the rain pour. “You know, I like it when it rains.” Hye Soo started talking. Ji Hoon looks at her and listens attentively. “It gives me a different feeling. It’s peaceful and calming.” Hye Soo continues as she stares outside her window. Ji Hoon sighs and looks outside, and then he speaks, “I love the rain, too. I love how it falls beautifully. Makes me think falling like that is not so scary.” It’s now Hye Soo’s turn to look at him.

So, baby, drive slow, 'til we run out of road in this one horse town

When the night comes and the rain stops, Hye Soo can feel he’ll leave soon. So, she prepared herself to let him go, without knowing when they’ll have this moment again. Knowing how busy he’ll get, Hye Soo can already imagine how she’ll miss him. She knows she’ll miss him even during her busiest days, at 3PM when everyone’s around her and all she can think about is him. She’ll miss him whenever she’s driving down the road. She’ll miss him showing up at her doorstep with coffee or food on his hands. She’ll remember the first time she told him those three words and she’ll miss everything about him.

I wanna stay right here in this passenger's seat, you put your eyes on me

Hye Soo’s train of thoughts stopped when Ji Hoon speaks, “Can I sleep here?” Hye Soo blinks twice at him, “What? I thought you’ll gonna be busy? Are you allowed to spend the night here?” Hye Soo didn’t realize she asked a lot. Now, that’s sounds annoying, she bites her lower lip before giving him a tight faint smile. Ji Hoon chuckles, “I’m allowed to stay here until tomorrow.” He said. Hye Soo’s tight smile widens. She couldn’t be happier.

In this moment now capture it, remember it

Hye Soo was over the moon knowing that she’ll spend the night with Ji Hoon. She’d stay up until dawn if she can, just to cherish each hour with him. “What would you like for dinner?” Ji Hoon asks, they’ve finished watching her favourite indie movie and now it looks like they’re both hungry. “Hmm, lemme think.” Hye Soo tilts her head as she tries to think what to eat. “Do you want me to cook an Italian dish?” Ji Hoon speaks. Hye Soo looks at him and smiles, “I’d love that.” She answered with sparkles in her eyes. She’d get to taste his food again, she tasted it before during the Episode 1, but she just had a bite. They didn’t get to eat the food because they had to film other scenes. Aside from the delicious food, the idea of him cooking for her makes her feel delighted.

'Cause I don't know how it gets better than this

Hye Soo helps in cutting the ingredients while Ji Hoon does the cooking. When she’s done cutting, she’d get a chair and watch Ji Hoon cook. “Come, have a taste.” He called her and she giddily went to him. “Hmm!” Hye Soo said and gave him thumbs up. Ahh, this is exactly what I’ve dreamt of having, she thought after having a taste of his food. She smiles and sighs then she walks away to prepare the table. And they started eating peacefully. 

You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless

After dinner, they sat on the couch with nothing else to do. They’d look at each other and giggle. “What should we do?” Ji Hoon asks as he pokes Hye Soo on her arm. “Hmm, lemme think.” She thinks of what they could do, “How about new set of movies?” she suggests, Ji Hoon shook his head. “Let’s watch movies later, how about an activity?” Hye Soo knows there’d be differences between them. It won’t always go on her way or on his. It happened before in her past relationship; the only difference now is that, she knows her love for this man will be bigger and greater than their differences.

And I don't know why but with you I'd dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless

If she’s the person she is 5 years ago, she wouldn’t open her doors like this to Ji Hoon. She won’t have him in any other way because she’s too scared. She’s scared of so many things; the public’s opinion, her friends’, her family. She’s scared of taking risks and getting hurt again. It’s strange though, how she’s not so scared now. She looks at Ji Hoon when she finally thought of an idea, she smiles. “Do you wanna try painting?” she asks him. She noticed how his eyes flicker when she said that. Hye Soo chuckles and nods, “Okay, I’ll get you some materials.” She stands up, “I’ll wait here and make a quick call.” Ji Hoon said.

Well, you stood there with me in the doorway

Hye Soo went to her mini studio while Ji Hoon stays in the living room. She’d grab a clean canvas and some of her pigments. She thought of painting the memory she had with Ji Hoon awhile ago, when they’re both staring at the rain. Before she goes out, she’d catch a glimpse of an unfinished painting. It’s merely a sketch but she knows it well. It’s Ji Hoon’s face. She grabs it so she can look at it closely. “What’s that?” Hye Soo almost dropped the canvas when she heard Ji Hoon’s voice behind her. She looked at him while he looks at the canvas she’s holding. Curiosity’s all over his face.

My hands shake, I’m not usually this way

Ji Hoon grabs the canvas from her and started walking to the living room. “Hey, I thought you were gonna make a call?” she asks him. Ji Hoon didn’t look at her and kept his eyes on the canvas. He’s smiling wide as he sat on the couch, “It’s me.” he utters while smiling at it. “It’s not even finished yet. Why are you so happy?” Hye Soo asks with an amused smile on her face. Ji Hoon looks at her with his puppy eyes; he didn’t say anything. Her expression softens, she sat beside him, “Why are you like that?” she asks. Ji Hoon sighs and right at that moment, Hye Soo trembles inside. When he puts down the canvas and hold her hands, she knows she’ll lose to him.

But you pull me in and I'm a little more brave

“I know you’re way out of my league.” Ji Hoon started talking. Hye Soo stares at him as he continues speaking. “You’re my sunbae and I know I shouldn’t feel this way. But I can’t help it.” Ji Hoon looks down as he sighs, Hye Soo smiles, “Hey..” she calls him. Ji Hoon sighs, “I think I like you, Kim Hye Soo sunbaenim.” Ji Hoon looks at her and shakes his head, “No, no, scratch that. I think I’ve fallen in love with you. Hye Soo-ssi.” Ji Hoon gives her a tight smile. Hye Soo can’t help but smile then she bursts out a laugh. Ji Hoon scratches the back of his head shyly. “Hey, don’t laugh at me.” He pouts and looks down.

It's the first kiss, it's flawless,

Hye Soo stops laughing. She pulls back her hands from him and cups his face. Ji Hoon is still frowning while she’s smiling at him. She lets go of his face and holds his hands. “I know you heard what I said that night.” Hye Soo said. Ji Hoon’s eyes widen. Hye Soo nods at him, “I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud that night but I couldn’t stop myself.” She felt her blood rushing to her face, she looks down to hide it, “I don’t think I can say that again—“ Ji Hoon pulls back his hands and cups her face. He’s smiling now, “It’s okay. You can say that again whenever you’re ready, whenever you want to.”

Really something, it's fearless.

If she can marry this man right now, she will. That’s what Hye Soo is thinking. Ji Hoon gently squeezes her face then laughs. “Hey.” Her voice’s muffled because of the squeeze. “I love you.” Ji Hoon says, he’s smiling at her but she can feel his sincerity. He lets go of her face. “That’s it?” Hye Soo said, dumbfounded. Ji Hoon gave her a questioning look. “You forgot this.” Hye Soo cups his face again and leans in to kiss him. Ji Hoon was stunned as Hye Soo kisses him softly. But it only took him a second to recover and kiss her back.

'Cause I don't know how it gets better than this

I knew it, I’d lose to him, Hye Soo thought as their kiss deepens. Ji Hoon’s touch makes her sensitive and she’s never felt so alive. It’s like they’ve been longing for each other their whole life and now, they’re finally one. Everything she’s been through now makes sense. She realized, she’s been with the wrong people. And now, Ji Hoon walked into her life and made everything worth it. The way he touches every part of her body makes her shiver. She lets out a soft moan when he touches her. She gasps as she cups his face to kiss him again. When he started moving against her, they both got lost to their own world.

You take my hand and drag me head first

They spent that night under the same blanket without their clothes on. Hye Soo felt Ji Hoon’s finger runs through her shoulders then he kisses it. “I love you.” He says and she chuckles. “I lost count of how many times you’ve said that.” She holds his hand and kisses it. “I love you, too.” She said then she buried her face on his chest and hugged him. She could hear his heartbeat, Hye Soo sighs, “Hope this lasts.” She whispers. She felt Ji Hoon pulls her in. “This will last. You’ll be my last love.” Ji Hoon whispers back. Then they fell asleep.

Fearless

Hye Soo wakes up with Ji Hoon’s kisses. “Good morning.” Ji Hoon smiles at her. She draws back, “I don’t smell good in the morning.” She covers her mouth, but Ji Hoon pulls her back to his arms and gave her a smack on her lips. “I still love you.” Hye Soo chuckles and kissed him back. “Let’s get up now; I know you’re busy today.” Hye Soo tells him then she gets up and picked up her clothes. An hour later, they’re eating breakfast together. Ji hoon speaks, “I already talked to my manager. Just tell me whenever you’re ready to reveal our relationship to the public.” Hye Soo bites her lower lip and sighed.

And I don't know why but with you I'd dance in a storm in my best dress

Hye Soo felt Ji Hoon’s hand on her. She looks at him and he gave her a reassuring smile. “Only when you’re ready.” He tells her then he squeezed her hand. That made her a little braver so she cocks her head. “Alright.” She utters and nodded confidently at him. She’ll never be ready. But as long as she has Ji Hoon on her side, she’s fearless.

Fearless

~

[thatonebirbnerd]

All Those Chains You Bear

Word count: 1417

Trigger warnings: Violence, injury/blood, death, goes into detail re: effects of (ritual) self-poisoning

So, this is a new fandom for me! I've loved LoL's lore for a long time, but never thought I'd be able to write fanfic for it... and then Aphelios came out. Something about him and Alune drew me in enough that I made a cover of their theme and finally wound up smashing out the first draft of this story in a clearly lunar (read: stayed up til 5am) frenzy. Now it’s polished, and I hope you enjoy the results!

The title’s from Aphelios and Alune’s aforementioned theme.

AO3 link

Breathe.

Come on. I've done this dozens of times. Have to just - breathe -

Dammit. 

Every time, I seize up and let go of the bowl. That moment of weakness could kill me. Can't let that keep happening.

But it's too late to try again now.

A familiar surge of energy rushes through me, forcing every muscle in my body under its caustic, unforgiving whim. But that's the price I pay to... not even to speak with her. Just to be with her.

As much as the poison shakes me to the core, it cuts deeper that I may never see my sister again. Our orbits, our paths in life, led us to separate realms, with this ritual the only way for her to find me.

I drop to the ground, catching myself with one hand. My throat tightens, and my breaths become shallow. It’s almost over. A voice creeps into my mind as I cough and sputter, no longer able to cry out. It is faint and distorted at first, growing ever clearer like the moon emerging from behind clouds. 

Aphelios. 

I'm here. It's okay.

I just wish I could talk with Alune for a while. I try to say her name, but I can only choke out a pitiful noise.

It always starts with pain. I'm sorry.

I kneel, letting myself recover between gasps for air. Another moment of vulnerability, but one I can use to collect my thoughts.

We have work to do. Raiders took one of our relics. Show them the moon's light.

If only I could answer. I must do that through action.

I stand up, as tense as a drawn bowstring, and leave the gloom of the temple. Every movement I make is awkward, but… I’ll get used to it. 

After all, I have to.

---

They're camped near the Rakkor, hiding from their wrath. Would-be climbers of Targon, carried away by their own greed. Even the Solari can't pardon thieves.

I'm not far now, but traveling around Targon’s slopes like this is deeply exhausting - more than fighting. But I never know what could ambush me in the night, and I need Alune. I can fight without the noctum, but not without her.

The dull ache breaks my focus and overwhelms my senses. I have to force myself to track a lone, unfamiliar war whoop, echoing from the valley below. My quarry.

There they are. Take this. 

Calibrum.

Gleaming stone and metal work their way into the physical realm, taking a slender form in my outstretched hands. The rifle Calibrum is all too familiar, a weapon I can use for anything. I can probably get a good angle from that ledge a few paces away. The brigands are downhill.

Breathe, focus... fire. A bolt of magic flies from my weapon, piercing a man who was standing close enough to my perch that I can see him bleed silver. They'll be looking for me now. I need to enter the fray.

You're fading a bit. Our thoughts separate.

I rarely dread words. These, however, the thought of having to take more noctum… I feel a pang of fear, through the numbness.

I crouch out of view, and take just another sip. The liquid glows like moonlit waters, even more than the night-blooming flower from which I distilled it. It is at once my strength, and the single thing most likely to end my life.

The fresh wave of agony always stops me in my tracks. But this time, I collapse. My limbs jerk, and I’m breathing hard, too hard. I lose control of myself, convulsing as my body rails against the poison in my veins. And then I panic, a primal terror that cuts through even the strongest of my walls.

Even if there were help nearby, I couldn’t scream for it - the best I can do is grunt. I can’t die like this - 

Steady, Phel. I’m still here. Starforger’s claws, you’re foaming at the mouth… Breathe. Let it pass.

I think it’s only been a few seconds, but it seems like an eternity before the spasms end. It’ll be a while before I can take on even one attacker, but I don’t know if that will mean minutes or hours. I rest, curled into a ball, recovering what little I can as the noctum urges every fiber in me to move, to fight.

The outlaws still haven’t found me, even after all this. Did Alune misdirect them, or are they merely so stupid that they can’t check the high ground?

Regardless… I wish I could thank her, that she could hear me.

At last I rise, still trembling, and head downhill.

---

Crescendum.

The firearm fades, and I reach for another - for Alune. The next weapon to enter my grasp is a chakram, round as the full moon.

There are only six people left in the camp. They're clearly confused. And no wonder; the Burning Ones stamp out whatever they can find of my people.

Of course, they finally grasp what happened when they see me striding toward the windswept clearing they’ve staked out. They cease their fireside chatter, and walk over to meet me. They expect a bargain. After all, one man cannot stand against a group - in their homeland.

"Whaddya want, kid?" The leader's Targonian is... shoddy at best.

I still try to give ultimatums sometimes, out of habit. This is one of them. It’s… embarrassing, not being able to force out a single word when I need it.

"Wildclaw got your tongue?" I don't understand the turn of phrase - it's not in any dialect of Targonian - but Alune laughs as she translates it for me.

Unlike my sister, I don’t have time for jokes. I look the ringleader straight in the eye, and with a flick of the wrist, I send the blade flying.

I'm still stiff, sore, exhausted. But adrenaline is stronger, and I need to stay alive. 

I weave between the warriors. They seem clumsy, and they all wield slow, heavy weapons that they now have to reach for. And like most foreigners, they’re unused to the thin mountain air. In seconds, the leader is on the ground, his blood shimmering just like his friend’s.

But the rest are ready now.  I've taken on more than five before, and the chakram easily leaves wounds in every one. A woman with a club covered in ice tries to swing at me. She misses, but her companion's axe lands low, grazing my leg.

Severum? Yes. You’ll need it.

I catch the chakram in my left hand, and it disintegrates, leaving this realm. The scythe that forms in my right hand is even smaller, but it fires a spread of magic that saps the life from the hooligans. I feel better, and my own wound shines as it knits itself together.

They're faltering. You can do it, Phel - watch out!

Her voice becomes urgent, ringing in my head, and I realize there's a greatsword headed for my neck.

Time slows down.

Only one way to save myself - 

I am with you.

- with the only words I wish I could see her say to me.

I throw my head back and let out a guttural roar. My throat burns from the effort, a feeling that spreads through me. Lunar power surges outward, staggering the few barbarians still standing.

But when the searing sensation ebbs, and ceases to cloud my vision, the cowards lie dead around me.

It’s over, Phel.

Give them traitors' burials before the sun rises. Their supplies will feed the Lunari.

I'm sorry it has to be this way, brother.

My muscles relax as Alune speaks, and her voice begins to fade from my mind. I call out for her - she might be the only one who understands whatever came out -

And she's gone.

The moon is cruel, to keep us so far apart.

For a moment, my mind swims, trying to think of a way to get her back, get her out of that lonely temple beyond this world… no. I can’t give in to that.

I'll bury these friendless fallen, and take back the stolen symbol of our faith. But perhaps I’ll do that closer to dawn. For now, I sit and reflect, surrounded by the carnage I wrought. To ground myself.

To remember the pain, to relive it, to force myself back to reality - away from her.

To feel anything else beside that pain, to hear my own voice again as the noctum releases its stranglehold. 

To mourn.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

bound to each other's hearts (this love is like wildfire)

Lizzington, The Blacklist. Sequel to Lost In The Forest Of This Heart. Cross-posted on AO3. Important notes can also be found there. 

I’m not in the fandom anymore and I don’t plan to make things for TBL ever again now that this is complete, but I had a surprising amount of fun rewatching the first two seasons in order to wrap up this series. Turns out, I do still love what it could have been. I’m glad to know that! And I’m grateful for the friends I made along the way. You all were definitely the best part of this show for me.

Summary: Between dealing with the Cabal and evading the FBI, Red and Liz try to figure out what the future holds for them both. 

He still doesn’t quite get it, Liz knows: that she wants more than separate lives, occasional dinners together or friendly evenings of chatting over wine and poker. Red isn’t fighting her on that front, but he doesn’t see himself in her picture. And if she’s being honest with herself, she knows that could be because she hasn’t yet decided on the specifics of it.

They settle into a new routine when they leave the Wisconsin safehouse, Liz full of single-minded determination and Red watching her warily whenever her attention is elsewhere. 

Much like he felt when they first went on the run, she is everywhere. Except it’s a different kind of awareness now, because she’s no longer so broken and he’s no longer an enigma. 

When she smiles at him, it’s unguarded, pulling him in. When she reaches for his hand or hugs him, he can tell she’s trying to make it commonplace. They are friends, or as close to it as they ever could be, and it’s eroding what’s left of his barriers. 

Over the next few weeks, they arrange meetings with Cabal members. Rather than by Red’s invitation directly, each is through trusted liasons, and Liz has fun playing with the disguises before they arrive at each site together. 

Red chooses the Cabal members they kill based on several factors, beginning with those who are high-profile and legally untouchable. It frustrates Liz to know it’s true, but some Cabal leaders are too powerful to be harmed by even the world-shaking effects of the Fulcrum leak.

Their list of targets is further trained on people inside the Cabal who have murdered or directed others to murder--especially on a large scale. That makes them especially dangerous enemies and also important to remove. It sends the message that no one who remains is safe.

At the third meeting, they take out two men simultaneously; Liz shoots the head of a multinational corporation before he can finish aiming at Red, and means it when she tells him later that she has no regrets. 

She feels safe with a gun holstered under her shirt again. She’s slowly moving past the guilt she’s been carrying since Connolly.

She feels even safer with Red’s hand hovering at the small of her back whenever they enter new situations. He expects her to hold her own, always has, but his presence--especially the way he’s reaching out more, relaxing around her--is a comfort. 

Liz has trusted him with her life since before it made sense, and that’s one of the things between them that remains the same. 

They’ve killed a handful of high-ranking Cabal members when something slips. 

Red thinks it was Julian, an associate he has trusted for decades. One he will never trust again. Whatever the weak link in his careful arrangements, instead of meeting Ingrid at the deserted farmhouse in dusty Kansas, they’re almost caught by the Task Force. 

Ressler and Samar are there, Samar’s eyes apologetic but her aim unflinching as she trains her gun on Liz. Ressler should be aimed at Reddington just as steadfastly, but his gaze flicks to Liz for the briefest of moments and that’s all Red needs. He takes the shot.

The second he does, chaos breaks loose between the FBI team and the men Red brought with them. Red and Liz take cover behind a rusted truck until Dembe pulls up in an SUV. Samar fires in their direction, but doesn’t stop their escape in the bulletproof vehicle.

Taking narrow backroads after that, they switch vehicles twice and don’t stop moving until they’re in Denver, letting the city swallow them up.

While Dembe is still driving, Red finds a bloody graze on Liz’s arm that she neglected to mention. 

“It was from Samar,” she tells him. "She could have fired on the tires or gas tank and stopped our escape entirely, but she didn’t.”

Their orders were clearly to capture, not to kill. This was just a warning shot.

She frowns. “But Ressler…”

“What about Ressler?” Red’s voice is gruff as he dabs at her arm. Since waving him off didn’t work, she lets him disinfect what’s barely even a wound. She hopes it’ll calm him down. 

“Red, you got a clean shot at him. Should we talk about that?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He runs his fingers around the edges of her bandage, making sure the adhesive will hold. Reminding himself that this is the extent of the damage. It could have been so much worse. 

Her smooth skin is still warm, alive. Her eyes keep trying to find something in his. He can’t bear to look at her.

“If that were true, I don’t think you would seem so upset. I’ve seen you shoot people before and barely blink. Red--I know you’ve shot Ressler before. So what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Lizzie. We’ve already talked about this. They’ll chase us until this mess is over, one way or another. I gave them a distraction so we could escape. It’s that simple.”

“It’s not simple at all, though, is it. You’ve fought back to back with Ressler now. You know him. To face him and pull the trigger...I can’t imagine it.”

“I hope you never have to. But as you said, Donald and I have a history that goes back to long before you joined the Task Force. We only fought on the same side at times...to protect you. We were both on your side. Allegiances shift. Loyalties change.”

She nods. “That is incredibly sad.”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs and gently pats her arm. “At any rate, his injury, like yours, will be a flesh wound. He will recover. But if we’re lucky, he won’t be able to chase us for a while. We need to regroup.”

****

They move to the coast, spending a few weeks in Seattle, then Portland. The crowds pose more of a risk, especially with the Task Force having seen their faces...but they saw a blonde Liz and Red in a dark wig under his hat. 

Though he doubts that will fool them, he can hope.

Urban areas are the better option for now, even with the risks, because the crowds also offer anonymity. People in cities wish to mind their business and be left alone. Because Red can’t postpone it any longer--the endgame is approaching--Dembe joins them in their various apartments.

Red lights up in his company, and Liz laughs more. 

Mr. Kaplan only contacts them by phone; Red invites no one to meet in person. But well-paid colleagues are still picking off Cabal members, now with stealth and finesse. 

“It’s almost time,” Red tells Liz over dinner. They’ve been ordering groceries, grateful that local markets cater to shut-ins and fugitives, and cooking all their meals together instead of taking turns. She insists.

“Time for…”

“The end of it.” He smiles, slow and satisfied.

Liz takes another bite of the French fish dish he suggested they fix that evening, thinking it over. “But we’ve barely gotten started with the Cabal. Red--what exactly is the endgame here? We’ve never talked about it.”

He glances at Dembe, who nods appreciatively over his food, then aims that dangerous smile her way. “You see, Lizzie, it was so up in the air. There really wasn’t much to talk about while we waited to see what needed to be done. We poked holes in their organization. We weakened their trust in each other.”

“And now?”

“Now it has become clear to me that the best way to stop them, to neutralize them, is not to wipe them off the map. It’s to stoke that power vacuum and step into it.”

“Wait.” She raises her hand, letting her fork clatter on the china plate. “You’re telling me that you want to join the people who want me dead? Who tried to have me framed for murder?”

“These are also the people who had me on the run,” he reminds her. “Even before they became a force in your life. Surely, if you’ve learned anything since we met, it’s that the maxim is true: the closer you keep your enemies, the safer you are from their attacks.”

“We’re their enemies, too. Why would they welcome our involvement in their organization? They have us on the run, Red. They’re winning.”

“Are they? Seven of them have died in the last six weeks. Their numbers are many, but not limitless. They’re unwilling to meet in public. And we put their secrets on full display. I think we’re not the only ones on the run.”

“So you propose, what, a truce? An alliance?”

“Oh, heavens, no.” He dabs at his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Those sorts of things require trust. A level of mutual respect that can transcend disagreement. You cannot form an alliance with someone you know will murder you at the earliest opportunity. No, my plan is much more straightforward.”

He stands, holding his hand out for her plate. Liz passes it to him, waiting for further explanation.

“While we’ve been on our own the last few weeks, Mr Kaplan has been using her many skills to gather information. Following leads, hunting down trails I suspected might be fruitful. Thanks to her, and to Dembe--” he toasts his friend with a glass, “the final pieces are in place. Now we make a trade.”

Her hands, no longer busy eating, are free to grip the tablecloth in a moment of sheer blinding terror. Red loves to make these moves behind her back, playing chess and telling her nothing until checkmate. It would be just like him to trade himself for her freedom.

The exact opposite of what she wants, the last thing she will ever agree to. Bold and brave but completely futile--because the second he gives himself up for her, she knows she won’t be able to rest until she gets him back. 

Will they never stop this? Liz wonders, listening to the pounding of her heart as Red pauses long enough to blink at her.

“A trade of information,” he clarifies slowly, watching her with concern. “Lizzie, are you alright? You look...”

She nods, swallowing the taste of fear along with a fair amount of shame for the conclusion she was so ready to believe. It takes her a moment to gather her words. 

“So, you’re going to blackmail them, to give you a seat at the table. And then you’ll...run the table.”

Red’s smug smile wars with lingering worry. “Quite right. You already know that the Cabal runs through governments and militaries and nation-states alike. With the right leverage, I can make their hunt of us a liability that will hurt them far more than any success would ever be worth. I may even be able to get your former position back.”

“It would be nice to no longer be a fugitive,” she agrees. “Buy my own groceries sometimes. It’s impossible to surprise you with a menu when you know everything that arrives on our doorstep.”

“I understand. You’ll be free to buy whatever you like, then. And invite me for dinner, I suppose, if the mood strikes you. I would be amenable to that,” Red says with a more relaxed smile.

He still doesn’t quite get it, Liz knows: that she wants more than separate lives, occasional dinners together or friendly evenings of chatting over wine and poker. Red isn’t fighting her on that front, but he doesn’t see himself in her picture. And if she’s being honest with herself, she knows that could be because she hasn’t yet decided on the specifics of it. 

She knows she wants Red. That part is easy. 

But if what he’s saying is true, that he can use their leverage to clear her name, she will have more choices to make. Harder ones.  She worked her whole life to become an FBI agent, to earn her place as a profiler. She knows it’s something she’s good at. A career she was made for, even. 

But.

And then.

Raymond Reddington in a box. 

She isn’t that person anymore, if she ever really was--the young woman with the loving husband and the dog, nervous about her new desk job working in DC. The edge she lives with now, the side of herself that can hurt and hunt and kill...part of Liz thinks she has always had that darkness. Since she was a child. Maybe she was born with it. 

God knows that despite the blame she’s flung at Red, he isn’t the source of her darker tendencies. He did everything he could to steer her away from being more like him. And with all the harm she caused, her work on the Task Force also helped her save people. 

Liz stills wants to save people. She wants to use her skills for some kind of greater good. But she can’t pretend she’s a paragon of virtue going forward, no matter how clean her record is once Red gets done with it.

Which leaves her where, exactly? 

****

Liz goes with Red to the summit he sets up with the remaining core of the Cabal. She feels useless there, since he also brings a full guard of men armed to the nines. And he certainly doesn’t need her help to negotiate. Yet he insists on inviting her, shaking his head when she questions him. 

“I’d like you with me,” Red says, without explaining further. The understanding that he means it for himself--that he wants her by his side not to protect her, or humor her need to be involved--is a gift. So Liz takes it, and bites down hard on the urge to speak up during the information exchange.

Even if all her presence does is affirm their new unity as a team, she can see the value in that, for their strength in the eyes of the Cabal. Word will spread in the underground Red travels, making its way eventually back to the FBI.

Everyone will know that Red has made a play for greater power, and that Liz was right there with him when it happened. She wonders what her old friends will think: if Samar will understand her choices, if Aram will worry that she didn’t make them freely. If Ressler will get that defeated look in his eyes and consider her a lost cause. 

She can’t blame any of them for their judgments from a distance--they don’t know what she knows. But she’s never felt clearer, not lost but found. The Cabal can be run by people who want her dead for threatening their supremacy, or it can be run by Red. 

Who she trusts to find the right balance between control and domination. Who she knows will keep the rest of the Cabal on a tight leash. 

As Liz sits with him in a glass-and-chrome boardroom, watching the Cabal give him the command he requires, she suspects he’s already seeking out leverage to hold over each member. 

Mr. Kaplan has been hard at work again, coming to their newest safehouse, passing Red messages. Now that he’s busily reining the Cabal in, he and Liz don’t have to move every few days--and his family can visit safely. Dembe stays over for a week, recommending books to Liz and telling her stories about Red when they first met. 

"Don’t believe a word of it,” Red warns her. “This man is a notorious fibber.” But his eyes shine with joy when he looks at the two of them. 

Liz has never seen him so happy. So settled. Power suits him. 

Red finds her in her room one night, strolling casually through the open door. He has learned the hard way that if he tries to return to polite formality, Liz will roll her eyes at him or ask “What are you waiting for, gold filigree?” without looking up from what she’s doing. 

“It took longer than I would have liked,” he says, unprompted. “But it’s finished.”

“What?” She has no idea what he’s talking about, since the Cabal restructuring was completed a week earlier.

“Your record has been erased.”

Liz sets her book down. “My criminal record?”

She’d forgotten Red was even working on that, and she knows she should feel excited. Or relieved. A rush of something should be washing over her. Instead she feels numb. 

“Yes. It’s been fully expunged, as though none of this ever happened."

And there it is, she thinks. That would be why.

“But, Red,” she corrects him gently, “it did happen. Erasing my record can’t take any of it back. I still have to live with it.”

He sighs. “I wish this could be easier, Lizzie, I really do.”

“Well, it’s not.” 

She reaches out and grabs hold of his hand, tugging him over to sit next to her on the bed. “It’s okay that it’s not, though, Red. It really is. I’m okay.”

“Yeah.” She does look okay lately, he has to admit. Red expected this news to bring her peace, but Lizzie seemed content even before it. 

Now she smiles at him, still holding his hand loosely. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” He turns a little more to face her, giving her his full attention. 

“Since you mentioned it, I’ve been thinking a lot about what comes next for me. All those choices I have now, you know? With a clean slate.”

Red nods. 

“I could go back to working at the FBI. As a profiler. It might take some string-pulling, but you’re good at that.” 

“I’m sensing a ‘but.’”

“That’s because you know me,” Liz says. “The Task Force only existed because you wanted to keep me close and take down the Cabal. Which means there will never be a Task Force again. Not like there was.”

“I know.”

“But even if they’re not hunting me...you cleared my name, Red, not yours. You will have to stay like this, won’t you? In the wind, still a wanted criminal.”

“Yes.” 

That doesn’t bother him; he’s used to his routine. But Red can’t tell what Liz is working towards in her explanation. It worries him.

“So the only way I can have a normal life is if I never see you again.”

“Not never,” he assures her. “You know that I’m capable of moving freely, off the radar of all manner of authorities. We can still...see each other.” Dinners maybe, he thinks. Game nights with Dembe. Arguing over which movie to watch.

“That isn’t going to work for me.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want a few secret visits a year, Red, while I pretend to be an upstanding FBI agent.”

“I would argue that you wouldn’t be pretending, Lizzie. Even FBI agents are allowed to have friends. Of all stripes.”

“That’s not really the point. With my past already laid bare for the world to see, who would ever let me keep a low profile at a desk again?”

Red frowns, following her logic.

“You can whitewash my record all you want, but my face was on the news. That future is gone. And without you in it, I wouldn’t want it anyway.”

“Well, then. What do you want?”

“I don’t belong at the FBI anymore, but I still have all my training. All my skills. Red--I think we should start our own Blacklist.”

He clears his throat, genuinely surprised. “Our own Blacklist?”

“Yes.” She let go of his hand to gesture with both of hers. “Just think about it. We stopped a lot of terrible people with the Task Force. We could go back to doing that, now that we’re done running. You have your own access, your own connections, and yours are better than the FBI’s a lot of the time.” 

“Lizzie, I understand wanting to help people--I love that about you--but I worked with the Task Force to my own ends. I was never on a crusade to better the world.”

“So? So what if you’re not looking to atone for your sins and make the world better? It can be my crusade. I have my own sins, Red, and I don’t need your reasons to be the same as mine. I’m asking you to work with me anyway, because we’d be good at it.”

Red flexed his empty hand, trying to imagine it. “I suppose I would be your best resource for catching uncatchable criminals.”

“You would. And if we had leads we couldn’t follow up on, I’m pretty sure we could find a way to tip off Samar or Aram, without giving up our locations.”

Liz bit her lower lip while he thought it over. “Well? What do you say?”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea.” 

Red grinned, his smile stretching even wider when she hugged him. “It sounds perfect for your talents--and I can certainly think of some people whose neutralization would improve my hold on the Cabal.”

“See? Win-win.” 

“But, Lizzie...you’re sure this is the path you want to follow? Playing judge and jury, outside the law? It’s not a decision you can take back, once you begin.”

She nods, a firm dip of her chin. “I’m sure. The worst criminals work outside the law, untouchable. You taught me that. Somebody should be responsible for them, and I’m in a unique position to try. Who will do it if I don’t?”

“Okay, then.” Red pats her leg, pleased. “It will be fun to have a reason to work together more closely again. I’ve been so busy restructuring the Cabal lately, I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” Liz eyes him across the inches that separate them on her bed. “Speaking of that.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to spend more time together.”

He shifts in place. “As I said, I look forward to it. Getting us settled and safe had to take priority, Lizzie, but of course I hope to have more time with you now. We should decide what to make for dinner.”

“No, Red. I don’t mean--” Liz takes a deep breath, trying to figure out how to explain without causing him to withdraw. 

“I love you,” she begins. 

He smiles at her, soft around his eyes. “I love you, too.”

One of the benefits of things settling down has been watching Red get comfortable with her affection. She says the words often, deliberately. Hearing him say them back is nice...but Liz knows he doesn’t mean it the way she does. 

He hears love and thinks family and friendship. And sure, they’re close in that way too, but she keeps saying it and waiting for Red to hear attraction and commitment, and it just doesn’t seem to be happening. 

With Red, blunt often backfires. Half the time, they end up in an argument, even when that isn’t her intention. But being gentle and trying to drop hints has been totally lost on the criminal mastermind she's all but living with.

So, blunt is the only option she has left to try. 

“Red...I’m in love with you.”

“You--what?”

“That’s what I mean when I say I want to spend more time with you. I want to spend it differently; I want to be closer to you. I want to share my life with yours.” She pauses, scared of the look on his face--it’s unfamiliar, and she knows his expressions well. 

“That’s the future I want: hunting Blacklisters, working together when you’re not busy with the Cabal...but also date nights. Early mornings and staying up late. Being together. Getting to a place where I know exactly what I want hasn’t been easy, Red, but I’m there now. I need to know what you want.”

Of all the situations he has tried to be ready for, Red feels shockingly unprepared for this one. 

A small part of him wondered, when she declared that she loved him in Wisconsin, if perhaps she meant it in this way. But he considered that part a traitor, hope running wild. Allowing himself to hope has often been--historically speaking--both foolish and dangerous. 

Lizzie has always been dangerous, because he can’t seem to defend himself against her. That’s what love is--being powerless. 

He loved her even before he walked back into her world; that was a lifetime of fondness mixed with debt and guilt. But it’s different knowing her as the woman she is now. He can’t imagine not loving her...and though he tries not to think about it, he can’t imagine not wanting her.

Admitting that out loud would be a betrayal of all Lizzie could have beyond him, and of the effort he’s expended to hold himself back from her.

“Being with me would make the target on your back infinitely bigger,” he tells her, hoping to walk the line between evasion and lying. “Combining our lives further...would be a terrible idea. Yours has already seen so much darkness, Lizzie. You don’t need to add more of mine.”

She’s patiently listening, though her hands are pressed down into the bed beneath them. He knows she’ll push back; he isn’t done.

“I need you to really think about what you’re saying. Lizzie, I know you’re a good person. In a way that I’m not. The idea that you and I could--” 

He swallows. “Have dates, or some sort of uncomplicated life, be a couple. It seems unrealistic given what I am, and who you are. You can love me and still keep yourself safe, keep a distance.”

“Reddington, I have no interest in keeping a distance. I’m trying to tell you that.”

Liz reaches up to touch his cheek. “I want less distance. I want you.”

“I will always choose you, no matter the harm to others,” Red explains. “Anyone who is a threat, even those you care about--it will always be that simple for me. I don’t have room for your morality.”

“I know.”

“How can you sit here and say that doesn’t matter to you?”

“Because it used to.”

Liz nods at the way he leans back. “I used to worry, a lot, about the way I felt pulled to you. Knowing everything you are, I worried what it said about me. Because it didn’t bother me--because I don’t care. Not the way I thought I should...the way a good person would.”

“The truth is, Red, I’ve made peace with it. I know you’re not a monster, no matter how often I used to throw that word at you. I know it because I’ve seen the real monsters. The people we caught, they were greedy and twisted and cruel. They were evil. But you’re not them.”

What’s coming next feels inevitable to Red. He can sense it, see it in her eyes. Evasion won’t be enough to save him. Nothing can save him. Salvation was never within his reach.

Sinning, though, he is well familiar with. Give me my sin again, he thinks foolishly, as yearning dislodges errant Shakespeare from the recesses of his mind.

"You don’t kill for pleasure, or entertainment. You’re willing to do whatever you have to, to protect others or save yourself. And we don’t have to have that in common for me to understand it.”

“I understand you,” Liz tells him. “Which is why I know as well as you do, you never answered my actual question. I did not ask you for a list of reasons why I should run for the hills rather than be with you. I asked what you want.”

She says it as though it’s a simple question. It’s probably the most difficult one he’s ever tried to answer.

“Forget the Cabal for a minute,” she offers. “Forget all our other enemies, including my old employers. Forget our complicated history, and think about the future. Yours and mine. What do you see?”

“Lizzie...”

“The manhunt is over,” she says, gazing into his guarded eyes. “It’s just us now. Here, in this moment, it’s only you and me. So tell me, Red...what do you really want?”

You. 

He watches her as she approaches, and doesn’t react at all when her lips meet his. It would be the easiest thing in the world to give in. That’s what scares him. 

When she finds herself kissing a statue of the Concierge of Crime, Liz hums a little in her throat and retreats, studying Red.

They’ve come so far from where they started; he’s not a mystery to her anymore. 

She can read his tensed muscles, coiled so tight he seems like he’ll shatter if pushed. A pulse is jumping along the column of his throat. His hands are motionless on the bedspread, but she sees the tips of his fingers curling into the material–gripping ever so subtly.

Raymond Reddington is holding onto himself for dear life, and that tells her two very important things. First, that he desperately wants to avoid touching her back…and second, that he has to stop himself from doing so with visible effort.

Which means that he wants his hands, and mouth, and skin, on hers more than anything in the world, but will not allow himself the satisfaction.

Liz smiles.

She can work with that.

[neonnhoney-rec]

Min Yoongi

Here are a few yoongi recs, most of them I've read and love, some are in my TBR. Tbh most of them are smut, but some are fluff and angst mostly angst. I will keep updating this woop woop.

I hope you enjoy tehee!

revenge- @lustfuldevils

fuck boy yoongs

request: yoongi teaches you to give a bj- @kpurereactions

says it on the tin

Theres no need to be nervous around Yoongi, he’ll take care of you and make you feel good no matter what it is you’re doing.

sangria- @minstrivia

a day at the beach has yoongi hornier than he’d like to admit.

missing link- @drquinzelharleen

You catch Yoongi playing with himself before a night out and some part of you wants to join him. That’s crazy though, he’s your best friend… Right?

talk- @httpjeon​

you walk in on yoongi on the phone with a customer

act on it- @dom-joonie

You learn that the cute barista you’ve been crushing on might have an…otherworldly disposition after you accidentally cut yourself.

too sweet- @justoneday-namjoonii

you smell so sweet to them the best they’ve ever had (vampire au)

moving to a university with a few secrets, has you falling for these boys who need your help

too hot to sleep- @gamerguk

“ Umm can’t wait to get rawed in our kitchen when I’m living with the love of my life ” 

can you turn off your phone- @btssavemylifeblr

Yoongi’s alarm clock wakes you up at 6 am on a Sunday and you are not happy about it.  At least, not at first…

grey area- @blushoseoks

and just like that, your fate was sealed - because min yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. but hell if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so. 

and sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.

dancing with the devil- @minnpd​

suga daddy suga

asphodel- @hayjeon

A series of drabbles and moments surrounding Hades, the god of death and Persephone, the goddess of nature

lifeguard yoongi- @gukgalore

who knew making eyes at a hot lifeguard would get you what you really wanted.

yoongi cums in his pants- @hobiorbit

dry humping yoongi till cums in his pants cause its hot

boy .girl- @floralseokjin

Boy. Girl. It’s as simple as that. Girl can’t get a good date—scrap that—girl can’t get a good lay, and boy is willing to help out with that… Friends with benefits seems the perfect solution, except for the fact, it’s not. It never is. Not when boy already has feelings for girl…

Evil- @littlemisskookie

Your life is pretty boring, apart from being the Alpha of your pack. But it gets a bit more exciting when you discover Yoongi wants to spend his heat with none other than you.

Bet i can make you cum without touching your cock- @cyphertrip

says it on the tin

boseong breakfast- @honeymoonjin

it may be misfortune that brings you to min yoongi’s door looking for a place to stay, but luckily holly lodge has a vacancy.

Love is for birds baby- @mininky

You refuse to believe in love. It’s a concept created by big corporations like hallmark to get sad saps like you to buy their shit. But it’s all fake. You’re convinced of that at least until a series of events with a certain tattoo artist who you loved to hate makes you question everything you’ve ever known.

Hands- @moonlightchildz

hand fetish? is that a thing?

Producer!yoongi- @matchakoo

where yoongi’s song plays over a really serene and domestic smut scene 

Please be naked- @floralseokjin 

ou find it’s easy to become addicted to a distraction…

Lonely hearts club-  @joonbird

 “In this world, currency is not money but life, and those who cannot repay their debts have no choice but to submit for the Separation - a procedure in which the soul and mind are extracted from their bodies, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. Jeon Jungkook is an underground tattoo artist hiding from the outside world. She has been waiting her whole life to be Separated. They were never supposed to meet - let alone fall in love.”

- or -

“Two lonely hearts collide.”

Rose garden dreams- @glossgf

you, a princess not yet betrothed, and your knight, Yoongi, have fallen in love. But what happens when a prince asks for your hand in marriage? What will you and Yoongi do then…?

single parent au- @yukheii​

your daughter is very fond of yoongi

Us, plus two- @deathbyyoongi

You and Yoongi sharing a moment, relishing in the glow of your growing family when your daughter has a nightmare, and Yoongi has to take care of those pesky monsters.

When the power goes out- @inkjam-moon

When a storm causes the electricity to go out, it becomes to dark in the apartment to study, so you and Yoongi have to find another way to pass the time.

Conveniently- @baeseoul

you live above a convenience store with your daughter, owned by a rather attractive yoongi. this is the story of how u and your daughter gained another member to your little family.

Destruction of a muse- @baeseoul

you’re in your last year of uni doing literature and lose your motivation, and it’s not till you meet a talented musician you get your ambition back. a. lot. of. angust.

Long distance-  @miss-noo-na

Yoongi misses the sound of your voice.

Conjecture-  @writingsofmyimagination​

Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.

Photoshoot tease- @shooting-stars-library

“Min Yoongi is a sexy little shit and he knows it.”

What if-  @blameblamebts

Being in a gang wasn’t a good thing, and it never would be, always looked down upon. But it isn’t what people think it to be. It’s worse. Much worse.

Aawake at night- @softyoongiionly​

You can’t sleep. Luckily, your boyfriend can’t either. 

Clair de lune- @yoonia

You were ready to leave a part of your life to move on to the next, and he is willing to give you a chance to end it glamorously. But at what cost? And will he be a part of the life you are leaving behind or will he be there for the next part of it? 

Reflections- @yoonia

“How could I ever forget about you" parent au

Faded- @yoonia

You were his soulmate, that part he knew well. Until one day he didn’t want you anymore. He couldn’t, when all he could see from you was light and all he felt within himself was darkness. Your love has gone cold as he retreated from you, burying himself deep in the dark. But what happened when Yoongi had to watch you start over with somebody else, when Yoongi let his selfishness gain control on him of you.

Monday- @strwberrytae

It’s that special time a month that brings you great pain yet great joy. Sure, there’s cramps and absolute uncomfort but your little monthly friend makes you insanely horny. Needy and desperate for a release that only your boyfriend can provide, will he cave and give you what you want?

Makeshift chemistry- @jungblue

Fleeting lust was all you’d ever known, nothing serious or long lasting, just a temporary fix to satisfy your needs. That is until you meet Min Yoongi who is determined to put an end to your binge of makeshift relationships.

What you did last summer- @winetae

Yoongi was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards to buy ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest ride for a spin without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function. 

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

Bad boys bring it to you- @yuengi​

tattoo artist yoongi

Fortuna- @readyplayerhobi

300 years ago, half the world’s population died when the experimental Fortuna virus escaped. The remaining male population has been rendered infertile with one loophole that has meant polyamorous relationships have become the norm.

Crescendo- @dreamyjoons

after hours of waiting for the grumpy pianist to leave the stage, you finally have it out with him in a way better than you could have imagined. 

Restraint-  @writingsofmyimagination​

As Jungkook’s best friend recently moved to Seoul, there is one of the boys you have yet to meet. This one has a dark secret and has to use all the restraint he can to control himself around you.

Curious- @honeymoonjin

Taehyung confides in you and your boyfriend Yoongi that he might be bi, and the two of you offer to let him experiment with you to find out. 

Gingham- @ropeseok​

There’s no place like home! At least, that’s how Yoongi felt after a long night of taking the little one trick-or-treating. He can’t wait to take his costume off - however, he seems to insist that you keep yours on.​

Somebody else- @jamaisjoons

yoongi doesn’t want you anymore. but he can’t stand watching you with someone else. post break up au.

Do you love me-  @caribbeanempressblog

Yoongi is bad at feelings

Love well done- @oraclemarie

You are the executive chef of your very own fine dining restaurant. A big company makes you the offer of a lifetime, setting you on a path straight to Min Yoongi-your drunken hook up. 

Pepero day- @kittae

Valentine’s with your best friend, yoongi

The last- @kittae

When the world’s gone to shit and you’ve taught yourself to stay alive while danger lurks around every corner, the last thing you need is another mouth to feed and extra “dead” weight. Yet you can’t bring yourself to leave another human being behind, and it might as well have been your worst decision ever… or was it the best?

Baby’s fist christmas- @hobisbeautifulass​

3 months after you give birth to your first child, you and your husband start putting together the perfect first Christmas for your new family of three.

This is just to say  – @btsiguess

To say it’s unusual to have a soulmate is an understatement, and most people desperately wish to have an elegant name scrawled upon their wrist. In reality though, you’d have to say it causes much more issues than it solves.

I like you – @iq-biased

A surprise visit from a friend leaves Yoongi with a night to remember, and something to say

Small things- @floralseokjin

you and vamp yoongi have an argument

Daddy diaries- @bts-reveries

yoongi started blogging his life on his social medias to prove everyone who thought he couldn’t raise a child alone wrong. but as his daughter’s birthday draws near, what happens when she wishes for a new mom?

Drink me- @njssi​

Your vampire boyfriend refuses to bite you in fear of not being able to stop himself. But you always get what you want.

Rule of thirst- @prolixitae

vampires were just folklore until yoongi became one. now he’s got only two emotions: you and hunger. and tonight, you let him feed off you.

A ticket to the sun- @seokeros​ (ao3)

In a world where a person's life is determined by a piece of paper on a monthly basis, love is practically impossible. But there's always an exception, and with that exception, there comes a price.

Alt: yoongo gets punched in the face by a girl who believes she is cursed, and he stupidly, helplessly, falls in love.

Wildest moments- @joonbird

“Min Yoongi is forbidden territory. And although you both know better, the two of you just can’t seem to stay apart.”

Breakfast in bed- @joonbird

“Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Hyung, open the door- @gotmetalkinginmysleep

You’ve been keeping the boys awake with your moaning for months thanks to Yoongi. Tae and Jungkook want to find out why.

The singularity theory- @dovechim

in your last year of undergrad, you find out what a gloryhole is at the expense of your final year thesis. it’s a classic example of a psychology experiment that went way, way wrong. 

You look like you need a drink- @dark-muse-iris

After a bad week with the worst luck imaginable, you happen upon a local dive bar run by an attractive young bartender who livens up your evening.

The married life- @jungnoir

being married is never a bore when your husband is a vampire king + inspired by  “Stop calling me Princess!” “I apologize, my Queen.”.

Taxi- @honeyedhoseok

 ❛  Drinks at a bar + a rainy night + a single taxi to share with the bane of your existence, Min Yoongi = one interesting car ride back to your apartment.  ❜ 

First love- @writing-in-ivory

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi. 

pugna- @jungwoohoos

he showed up at your doorstep one day, covered in cuts and testing your patience. you don’t know why, but you felt compelled to help him. you just don’t realize how deep that runs

Mean yoongi- @jjkpls

Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

Sour skittles- @softyoongiionly

WELCOME TO GLASSCLAW! The only city where you can get a homecooked meal and a hitman all on the same street! You moved to GlassClaw for a fresh start after a group of raiders invaded your previous compound. Unbeknownst to you, the city has its own collection of riff raff and, at the head of it all is your neighbor Min Yoongi. The mischevious merchant with one hell of a sailor mouth is known for swindling the rich and, serving the poor. The world has become convoluted and chaotic since the apocalypse but, two things were certain: You were so much more than pretty face and, Yoongi was so much more than just a thief.

Life’s little joys-  @littlemeowmeowschimmy

getting pregers with yoongi

Fear and dumplings-  @softyoongiionly

You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Min yoongi, library services- @kpopfanfictrash

When you accept the the offered research position at Bangtan University, you are well aware of your partner’s prestige. The only problem is - so is he.

Behind the stick-  @randombtsprincessa

Your bartender for the night and you take an interest in one another.

Mic drop- @ve1vetyoongi

when underground rapper min yoongi uncovers the dirty secret behind his biggest rival, your brother and hip hop champion kim namjoon’s success, he is determined to take home this year’s mic drop contest trophy no matter who he hurts along the way. you’re behind the camera, content with capturing namjoon’s picture perfect persona from the sidelines but when his hard-faced enemy Gloss, makes you realise you could be more than just the point and shoot, you start to feel your loyalties shifting.

Pinewood and poetry- @spicykoreantatertots

After getting closer to and developing a crush on your friend over the summer, you want nothing more than to cozy up to him as the seasons start to change. That is until your ex-boyfriend, Jung Hoseok, returns from his summer study abroad program. Will Hoseok stand in the way of your budding romance with your mutual friend, Min Yoongi?

His hands- @nahfamily

You hadn’t ever paid much attention to Min Yoongi until a stupid icebreaker at your office. Now, you can’t get him, and his hands, out of your head

Birthday boy- @btssmutgalore

Yoongi wants to give his best friend Jimin the perfect birthday gift… And it just so happens to be you.

Happy valentine’s day- @sweetwritertanya​

You have a very special idea for this Valentine’s Day, focused completely on your boyfriend Yoongi who comes home to an unexpected surprise. 

Happy birthday- @parkmuse

Your boyfriend Jimin has a bit of a surprise for you on your birthday, and he goes by the name of Yoongi.

Arranged-  @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong

Y/N is a struggling student in Seoul: working multiple jobs, living in a broom closet apartment, and often sacrificing her dignity for the sake of her livelihood. What happens when a handsome stranger presents her with an offer she cannot refuse at the moment she needs it most?

This tiny space-  @ubemango

Yoongi was always attractive—your sexy piece of ass, as you like to remind him often—and seeing the tight skin of his back when he undresses further makes the insides of your stomach churn in want: the kind that made you want to fall to your knees, grovel. You love having a kid, but it’s been too long.

The boa constrictor-  @tatertotthethot

You’ve always had a bad habit of drinking copious amounts of water just before going to bed every night, and for some reason, you always seem to forget that it’ll eventually lead to you having to wake up a few hours later with a dire need to pee. 

Dope- @honeymoonjin

The HSD is a branch of the South Korean government tasked with taking down the most infallible criminals in Seoul’s underbelly. Kim Namjoon, or RM, is their next target: the extremely well-spoken and careful leader of a cocaine dealing gang.

Listen closely- @avveh

Unintentionally, you stumble upon something that makes you view your coworker Min Yoongi in a whole new light.

The truth between us- @jimlingss

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle. 

Surround me- @minflix

after a very unfair and unjust firing from his bartending job, yoongi just wants to soothe his sadness by spending some quality time with his best friend - who he is very much in love with.

Cockwarming – @gukgalore​

Ngl the thought of cockwarming Yoongi is the only thing keeping me going at this point

Havana- @inkjam-moon​

You’ve spent the last six years following in your parents footsteps all the way to Cuba, trying to make them proud by finishing their research, but when you join forces with a snarky boat owner who knows more than he lets on, will things play out the way you planned them?

The equation of  love- @kookingtae​

When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

Workaholic- @hobiwonder​

Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. 

Different- @satisfractions​

in which tattooartist!yoongi meets floral!reader because he needs to practice drawing flowers for his job

Salud- @yukheii

ninja yoongi (Naruto au)

Toke temptation-  @strawbxxymilk​

You accidentally confess your feelings to Yoongi during a smoke sesh

Accidents- @jungxk​

dad!yoongi makes me soft and also h*rny

Fists- @badbhye​​

reader’s first time

The early shift-  @hobidreams​

your coworker yoongi is always infuriatingly late. except the one time he’s much too early.

Mixtape- @jungblue​

Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting.

Three squeezes-  @nomnomsik​

Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too. 

Yoongi cums in his pants- @gukgalore​

where u and yoongi are making out and u start grinding on him, and he tells u to stop bc he’s gonna cum his pants. But u don’t and he acc does cum his pants

Kitten- @yminie​

Yoongi’s focus on work has subjected your relationship to having a dry spell, and with a little prompting from your best friend, you tell him exactly what he should do. But you don’t make the rules kitten, and the game you’re choosing to play is a dangerous one.

Wine- @junghelioseok​

he makes staying after-hours absolutely worthwhile. restaurant au

Renatus- @mininky​

(y/n) finds herself in a very unusual situation where her fate seems to be woven with Hades himself, who’s too much of a jerk for her to even admit that sure okay he’s kind of really good looking.​

Cobalt and charcoal- @tayegi​

soulmate au

Touch of silk-  @floralseokjin​ 

In a world where vampires coexist with the living, there are many humans looking for a cheap thrill…you’re ashamed to admit you’re curious too, putting to good use a dating app you find…but Min Yoongi is nothing like you imagined a vampire to be…